#I NEED TO STOP I HAVE 3 ALREADY AND 2 ARE IN THE GRAVE AND ONE IS ON CONSTANT LIFE SUPPORT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bananayuyu · 4 months ago

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Cabin Fever [part 2]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.7k

Summary: The third day of your trip brings a storm, and even more cramps. You try to navigate the day the best you can, but really you just need to be taken care of, in the way it matters most.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, period sex, use of a condom, reader has really bad cramps again, some mxm (Seonghwa and Hongjoong)

A/n: I have had such a fun time writing this part, thank you all for the response on part 1! I am falling in love with this cozy world and wish I could live in it for real. Thank you so much to the anon who requested a part 2! I hope you all enjoy <3

Taglist: @pautiny27 @kierraperkins3 @yoonjikim @luvbit3z @pancake-freckle

I'm definitely planning on continuing the series for a while so if you want to be tagged for upcoming parts, let me know!

You can read part 3 here!

You stretch over to find your phone, unhooking it from its charging cable. The light is dim through the window, the room looks almost hazy. Squinting at the screen, you see a missed text from Seonghwa asking if you're doing okay, sent an hour ago.

"It's almost 11:30, we should really get up," you yawn, poking Yunho in the ribs to get his attention. He has once again wrapped himself around you tightly, face buried in your hair, and you're not sure if he's even awake.

"No," he groans, his voice low and gravely. It sends a shudder through you, and all of the feelings from last night surface again. You can already feel the pains starting in your lower abdomen, the muscles cramping. You wish it could be night already and he could be making you feel good again.

"We can't just stay in here all day," you say, much as you sort of want to. But you also don't want to waste a day of your time with all of your other friends. Yunho just groans, not wanting to agree with you but knowing you're right. He's just so asleep still, so in the haze of sleeping next to you. He really just wants to stay like this, forever.

"Okay, well, I really have to pee," you say, giggling, peeling yourself off of him. He lets out a small sound of disappointment but doesn't stop you. You turn around and see his tousled hair, his puffy, sleepy eyes. You lean down and place a quick kiss on his temple before making your way to the bathroom, another pad in hand.

The cramps hit you again when you're sat on the toilet, and you double over, feeling light-headed. It doesn't seem like you're bleeding quite as hard as yesterday but you still feel awful, despite all of the restful sleep you got. You gingerly clean yourself up, holding onto the counter as you stand, pausing for a moment so you don't pass out. You sigh, trying not to feel the frustration. But it's hard not to.

When you open the door you are met with Yunho, his messy hair now covered up by his hoodie, his eyes still very sleepy.

"Sorry for taking so long," you say, assuming he really needed to pee. You aren't paying attention, the cramps overwhelming you.

"Hey, look," he says as you start walking past. When you do finally look back you see that he's brought you pain meds and a glass of water. Your face softens immediately.

"Oh, thank you," you say, taking them immediately.

"Are they bad today?" he asks, a hand on your cheek. You just nod. "Go lay down then."

"I wanna hang out with everyone, though," you pout, looking at the floor.

"Well, go lay in the living room then," he suggests.

"Okay," you mumble, heading that way with your glass of water in hand. He watches you walk away, an obvious discomfort and weakness in your body, and it makes his chest hurt. When you were friends in high school he really only saw you on your good days, when you were feeling okay. It wasn't until living with you that he really saw the worst of everything, the truth of your health issues. You never spoke of them often, never truly explained it to him. Living together had forced you to, and when he showed himself to be genuinely good at caring for you, you'd let him in a bit more. He knew you didn't like the idea of people seeing you at your sickest. He never gave much thought to the idea when he was younger, that some people's bodies are wracked with issues from the start, that they never get to know what it's like to be able to rely on your body to carry you through everything. You were so young; though you were the same age as most of the rest of the friend group, you'd always been seen as the baby. He certainly always thought of you as small, in need of protection. He didn't want to tell you that, because he knew you'd hate the idea. It didn't help that you were smarter than most of them, when it came to the practical and academic aspects of life. You were far more mature in many ways. But they had the healthy bodies; they were the ones who were able to move out at eighteen, to become financially independent. It would take you many more years, and two very supportive friends to live with you, before you could move out.

When you make it to the living room you plop down next to Ari and San, snuggling under a blanket. The cabin was colder than you expected, the sky outside still dark.

"Has it been like that all morning?" you ask Ari, staring out the window.

"It was actually raining for a while earlier, it just stopped maybe thirty minutes ago."

"Oh really? No wonder I slept in so long," you reply, sighing into the warmth of your blanket.

"Are you doing okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, but I still feel like crap," you say, frowning. Sipping your water you try to relax, try to get your mind away from how terrible your lower abdomen feels.

"Do you need any pain meds?" she asks you, her face showing obvious concern. Even San is turned towards you and looking worried.

"No, no, I just took some. Thank you though," you respond, squeezing her hand. "I should probably eat something though, I'm starving."

"I think Seonghwa and Hongjoong are making some lunch, I'll go get you some," San replies, standing up.

"Oh, you don't have to," you start, taken aback by the kindness of this almost total stranger. But he walks that way anyway, not stopping at your words.

"He's so freaking nice, what the hell," you say to Ari.

"I know," she laughs, shaking her head. "I almost can't believe it's real sometimes."

"Men just aren't usually like that," you say, and right then Yunho crosses the room, making brief eye contact with you. He heads towards the kitchen, looking like his mind is set on something.

"The guys in our friend group are," she replies.

"Well, that's true. I guess I should say, straight men aren't usually like that, especially if they aren't romantically interested in you," you clarify. "At least not in my experience in the world, and I barely interact with men or go out in public."

"I know, the amount of horrifying behavior I saw at college is crazy. And even now still at my work. I know so many people tried to warn me to be careful around men when I was growing up, but I did not realize just how scary it would be to be in the adult world and have a uterus," she replies. She looks at you, earnestly; how nice it is to have another girl in your group, who understands what it is to exist in the world in your bodies.

"Uteruses should be banned," you say, placing a hand on your stomach. "This thing needs to get the hell out of my body."

Ari laughs, the bright sound raising your spirits. "I would have taken it out for you myself years ago, if I could," she laughs, resting her head on your shoulder.

"What just, reached up inside and like, pulled it out?" you laugh.

"Girl, your mind goes to the strangest places. Now I can't get that visual out of my head," she laughs, a hand coming to rest over her eyes.

"I wish I could do it myself," you reply, "just like-" you reach your hand down and spread your legs, miming the action; you both break into giggles.

"What was that?" Yunho asks as he sits down next to you, a cup of tea in hand. He holds it out towards you, careful to hand you the handle so you don't burn your hands.

"Y/n just being her usual self," Ari replied, still laughing. Yunho just looked confused, sipping at his own cup of coffee.

"I was showing her how I'd remove my uterus, if I could. I wish someone could just reach up in there and take it out," you clarify.

"You should make Yunho do it, he's got big hands," she says.

"Ari!" you shriek, crumpling into a heap of laughter with her. Yunho's ears go red, and he clears his throat to try to calm himself.

"You two are something else," he says, turning away, looking for anyone else to make conversation with.

"Wait, did Yunho make you that cup of tea?" Ari asked you, and at the mention of his name his attention stayed put.

"Yeah," you reply, not sure why she's interested. "He makes me and Hwa tea and coffee like all the time."

"That's sweet. See, we're so lucky to have these boys. He's the perfect example of a straight man who has no romantic interest in you, but still takes care of you."

You know she means it earnestly, from the way a small smile creeps onto her lips, making her eyes crinkle at the corners. But you and Yunho both stop dead in your tracks, your throats simultaneously going dry.

"Yeah, true," you say, trying to be normal. Like this morning, when Seonghwa found you in bed together. The words come out rough and you try to swallow, but it hurts and your eyes squeeze shut for a moment. You take another sip of your tea, trying to appear calm.

"What, Yunho, did I say something weird?" Ari asks, and you look over to see his stony face, his eyes looking almost distant. Something about it makes your heart drop for a moment, and you don't know why. Something in you begs for him to act normal too, but you realize there's no point. No point in pretending like nothing happened, even if you don't know what it means.

"I need to tell you something," you whisper to Ari, your face just inches from her ear. She leans even closer, clearly excited by your tone. You drop your volume even lower, putting your hand over your mouth to block the sound from going anywhere else. "Last night he like, fingered me."

"What?!" she asks in a whisper, her eyes going wide with excitement.

"Shh, please keep your face normal," you beg her, knowing that isn't possibly going to happen. But you don't want everyone to find out this very second, you'd like it to stay between the two of you. Ari does her best to still her face, knowing you don't want to draw attention. At least it's fairly normal, for the two of you to share secrets. The boys have always respected when you two say something is just for your ears.

"Yeah I was like, hurting last night and he like, made me feel better," you whisper, you both breaking out into giggles.

"Girl," she says, clearly wanting you to continue.

"I'll tell you everything once there's not like twenty people in the room with us," you say, a goofy smile not leaving your face.

"Aww," she says poking your cheek, and you swat her hand away, jokingly rolling your eyes. Ari keeps looking between the two of you, observing the way his body seems drawn towards you even as he sits a bit away, his legs stretching out to meet yours. She has so many questions, seeing as you'd never mentioned having a crush on him. His crush on you had been obvious to her for a while, but she'd never really mentioned it. It always seemed that people in the group had crushes from time to time, due to everyone's closeness. But sometimes they passed, sometimes they came to nothing; sometimes those crushes seemed like little more than someone mistaking their strong love and affection as something more. It was one of the reasons your group of friends had stayed close for so long; no one really forced closeness or forced information out of one another. Everyone let each other be, and let the cards fall where they may. Sometimes she felt like it made you less close than you could be. But she knew it also meant no one felt stepped on or smothered.

***

After lunch was served the weather had cleared a bit, and Jongho suggested that everyone play a game of basketball out on the small court to the south of the cabin. Not one of you had plans for the day, and with the way the weather was behaving that was definitely a good thing. You and Ari laid on the couch together, barely overhearing the conversation unfolding. You knew even if you wanted to you couldn't go and play, and the warmth of the couch was a lifesaver against the damp coolness in the air. The rain was not unusual for the time of year, but you swore it never had been this cold during your cabin trips.

"Will you stay inside with me?" you asked her.

"Of course. I wouldn't leave you alone in here. Also, I don't really feel like getting hurt today. You know how competitive they all get," she laughs, holding up her arm and showing you a large cut on the underside.

"My god, what's that from?" you ask.

"Wooyoung pushed me when we were playing waterpolo by the falls, and I scraped my arm on one of the rocks."

"Of course it was him," you chuckle, taking a closer look. "Did you wash it out yesterday?"

"It's not really that deep, but yeah. I'm sure it'll heal quick. I just really don't feel like playing basketball on a wet, slick court."

"And it's so cold, I don't know why they feel like going outside."

"It's not that cold," she says, looking at you confused.

"Wait, really?" you ask. She shakes her head. "Ok well for some reason, I'm freezing."

"One sec," she says, getting up and taking a blanket from the other side of the bed. "Y/n is cold," she says to the group, pointing to you all curled up in your one blanket. Everyone grabs their remaining blankets and one by one, layer them on you.

"This is too much," you whine, but you can't deny you like the attention. You really appreciate the way they all joke around with you; it always makes you feel better.

When all of the boys headed out to play, you finally got a chance to tell Ari everything.

"Your periods are still that bad?" Ari asks you when you tell her how you were feeling the previous night. "You hardly ever mention it anymore."

"It's just, so normal at this point. I guess. I don't know, you know it isn't fun to talk about. Plus this one really has been extra bad. I haven't had one this bad in a while," you respond.

"Well I'm glad he was there to comfort you. You know you could have told everyone how you were feeling yesterday. You didn't have to pretend like you were fine at dinner."

"I don't know, Wooyoung's cousins are here and so is San, I don't really know any of them," you say.

"Let me assure you, San would not care. And I doubt Woo's cousins would either, I mean we've been around them before, they seem very kind. He wouldn't bring them around you if he thought they'd be weird about something as simple as that. I know Woo acts like he doesn't give a shit about anything, but he really cares about you. I overheard him asking Seonghwa this morning how you've been doing," she replies. You look at her tenderly, thankful she shared it with you. As much as you wish Wooyoung would just ask you, you know it's not his way. It warms your heart to know he cares.

"So, how long have you liked Yunho then?" she asks you.

"Dude, I literally don't know. I don't even know what I feel right now," you sigh, shaking your head at her. "I mean, he was really just helping ease my cramps, cause I basically begged him too. And I get fucking horny on my period, I don't know." You put your head in your hands. "I don't even know what words were coming out of my mouth last night."

"So is it just a sexual thing then?" she asks.

"I'm assuming that's how he feels, I mean he's never said anything to the contrary."

"No, I mean for you," she clarifies.

"I.. I don't know. I don't hook up with people, and he's like, one of my best friends, I-" you cut yourself off with a groan, head spinning. "I'm gonna develop feeling for him and he's not gonna feel the same and we live together and it's gonna be a fucking mess," you blurt out, your mind racing out of control.

"Y/n, that man loves you," Ari says, squeezing your shoulder.

"I know Ari, I'm not saying he'd be an asshole about it. But it would still be so awkward for me, and if you love someone platonically that doesn't just change overni-"

"No, he's in love with you," she cuts you off.

"He's said those words to you?" you ask her, incredulous.

"No, but it's obvious to anyone with eyes," she says. You squint questioningly in her direction, feeling like she's just saying what she thinks you want to hear. "Dude I'm serious, Seonghwa has told me about it, the way he is around you. If he's not in love with you then I don't know what it could be."

"He's dated like multiple people since we've known him though, that doesn't make sense," you reply.

"Not since moving in with you," she says. "Has he ever brought any girls over to hang out with? Or to hook up?"

"No," you say, head still spinning.

"That's not because of like, a house rule or something, right?"

"No, we talked about it, we're all okay with bringing people over. Hwa brings over guys sometimes. Well he did when we first moved in, not really this past year."

"But Yunho never has?" she asks again.

You shake your head. "That doesn't mean anything, Ari. He's barely even spoken to me this morning, anyway. He doesn't seem like he's in love. Seems like normal Yunho to me."

"He brought you tea," she says, smirking.

"Oh my god, he always does that," you say, rolling your eyes and also smiling. "I- I don't know how to feel."

"Would you do it again?" she asks. You nod. "Do you like, really really want to do it again?" she continues, making you laugh.

"Yeah," you say, hiding your face in your hands.

"Well, at least you know that. Don't stress about it," she says. "It can just be a fun little thing, it doesn't have to be life changing."

You sigh, soaking in her words. You know what she's saying is absolutely right; it's the kind of advice you'd probably be giving her if the tables were turned. But something about your night with Yunho meaning so little doesn't sit right with you.

"Can you please not tell anyone, not even San? For right now, I don't know what Yunho wants to say," you plead.

"Of course, you don't have to worry about that. I don't share things with San just cause he's my boyfriend, I don't think that's fair to my friends," she responds, hugging you.

"I'm so thankful you're here," you say, sighing comfortingly into her embrace.

"Me too. I love them all but they can be a lot," she says, and you both chuckle. Tucked into your layers of blankets you feel warm and cozy, and your chest feels lighter having told someone about your previous night.

***

Close to 3pm, the storm rolls back in to the area; the winds pick up, the clouds darken, and suddenly rain is pouring down. It sounds like the roof of the cabin is being repeatedly pelted with golfballs, the dull sound surprisingly loud. Suddenly all of the boys are sprinting back inside, their wet shoes squeaking on the tile of the kitchen floor. All of them are thoroughly soaked, their hair sticking to their foreheads, clothes stuck to their bodies. They tumble in one after the other, Wooyoung the last to make it in, and you hear his scream all the way from outside. When they finally get inside they all start undressing, their clothes heavy and cold.

"Didn't realize we were staying at a strip club," Ari says, making you laugh. You know they're just uncomfortable, but you can't help but stare at Yunho as he disrobes, his light blue shirt dripping on him as he heaves it over his head. You don't really see him shirtless like this, even though you live together. He's not one for walking around like that. You'd forgotten how broad he really was, how strong his shoulders are. As he goes to ring out his shirt in the sink you see his tricep flex, and the smooth muscles of his back as well. He's tall and lanky, but you'd forgotten just how muscular he was too.

"You're kind of gawking, just so you know," Ari whispers in your ear, making you jump.

"Oh my god, I'm gross," you groan, burrowing your head in her shoulder.

"No not gross, not gross at all. Fuck, every time San is shirtless I want him to fuck me immediately." You glance over at Ari's boyfriend, already anticipating the muscles you're about to see. You could tell even when he was clothed how built he was.

"How often is at the gym?" you ask.

"Basically every day. He can like, easily pick me up and throw me around. And I'm not exactly the lightest person in the world."

"If that's not everyone's dream," you say, giggling.

"Can't Yunho carry you?" she asks.

"Yeah but I'm basically like a sickly little worm, it's not that hard. Even Hwa can lift me," you laugh,

"Okay, well, he can still lift you. And how big is your height difference?"

You just smile at her question, knowing you are blushing.

"God, if we aren't the most simple of women," she laughs.

"No no, I'll have you know I'm very full of logic and feminism and I do not care about muscles, or height, or anything of the sort. Never in my wildest dreams have I thought about how tall he is in comparison to me and gotten all hot and bothered about it," you joke, your blush having moved to your cheeks too.

"So you have thought about him like that!" she exclaims.

"Keep it down!" you chide, when you see Seonghwa shoot a look over at the two of you.

"Sorry, sorry," she laughs, pouting at you. "What are you looking at?" she says to Seonghwa, who rolls his eyes.

***

After the boys had changed and dried off, Wooyoung insisted that everyone watched a scary movie. You were all stuck inside, and everyone had already spent the morning talking and catching up.

"'It matches the vibe of the storm," he said. "It'll be so fun," he laughed, smirking in your direction. He knew how you couldn't handle jump scares and didn't like gore. He promised you the movie he'd selected didn't have either.

"It's more like, a psychological thriller, you know? It's really fun. Set in a cabin in the woods too."

"Okay, fine," you replied, hoping he was telling the truth.

He was, in fact, lying. You found that out about twenty minutes later.

The loud bang made you jump, causing you to launch sideways and grab onto the closest thing to you. It happened to be Yunho's arm.

When everyone sat down, Yunho sat himself right next to you, but didn't say a word. Everyone was chatting, the room filled with chaos as they came down from the adrenaline rush the storm had caused. Ari got up to sit with San and help him dry off, and when Yunho saw you sitting alone he was almost thankful. He didn't know why, but everything Ari had said earlier made him feel almost jumpy. He had seen the two of you giggling and whispering to each other, and felt like something was happening that he didn't understand. When he approached you your face looked distant, and he almost worried you didn't want him there, that you would have preferred her. He sat with his arm around the back of the couch behind you. But when you didn't lean into him at all, didn't seem comfortable with it, he pulled it back down to his side.

"Woo, you promised me!" you whisper yelled after you jumped, your grip on Yunho so strong it almost hurt. You felt so embarrassed at how easily scared you were.

"That wasn't even a jump scare, just a loud sound," Yunho said, and the room chuckled. You frowned, pulling yourself away from him. You weren't sure why you were so sensitive, but what he said made you feel small. And not in a good way.

Everyone else's attention was back on the movie in a second, but Yunho couldn't stop looking at you and your sullen face.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning ever so slightly towards you. "Come here," he said, moving his arm around your shoulders this time, gently pulling you towards him. You stuffed your head into his chest, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. You weren't sure if you even wanted his comfort. You completely tuned out the movie, closing your eyes. You mind raced with thoughts from the day, and you suddenly realized you hadn't had a chance to talk to Seonghwa. You had wanted to assure him of what was happening, because he lived with you both. You didn't want him worried that you and Yunho had been keeping something from him, sneaking around behind his back. But as you peaked around the room to find his face, you didn't see him anywhere. You felt confused, and exhausted, and suddenly realized how cold you were again. You tried to tuck yourself into the blankets more but it just wasn't enough, so finally you decided to go grab Yunho's hoodie from the library. Maybe one more layer would help.

You slowly crawl your way out of the room, careful not to block anyone's view of the TV. When you finally stand up you're at the edge of the very short hallway that leads to the library. As you stand you notice how dark the sky looks. This window faces out towards the fire pit, and sits where the cabin is directly under a few trees and your view is limited. Still, the view is beautiful. The rain has become more gentle now, and the soft sound soothes you as you look out across the land splattered with greenery. The plants, the trees, they're the reason you really like being out here. You hope that today's the last day you'll have to spend inside, nursing your body. Some movement in your periferral vision catches your eye, and you sweep your gaze back towards the fire pit and the ring of trees that surrounds it. Suddenly you realize why you couldn't find Seonghwa earlier.

Outside, on a lounging chair just to the left of the fire pit, Seonghwa and Hongjoong are kissing. They must have snuck out while the rest of you were occupied with the movie, you realize. You aren't sure how you missed them at first, but in the darkness of the storm and shadow of the trees they almost blended into the landscape. Seonghwa is sat against he back of the chair and Hongjoong is over him, a hand on Seonghwa's thigh. You see him move that hand to pull on Seonghwa's silky black hair, the kiss clearly passionate, heated. The rain patters down around them, but in the cover of the trees they don't look soaked. They certainly don't look bothered. You can't tell, really, from this far away. You shouldn't be trying to look that hard, anyway. You try to tell yourself that. But you're mesmerized, stuck to the spot. You feel overcome with how beautiful they both are.

Soon they're tugging at each other's shirts, and you can tell now from the way they take them off that they must pretty damp. In the struggle you see Hongjoong's muscular back and arms; Seonghwa's face is the picture of lust, his hands moving down quickly to reach inside Hongjoong's pants and start stroking him. They're kissing again, Seonghwa's lean chest heaving, Hongjoong grabbing his legs to wrap them around himself. Tangled together they look like a perfectly choreographed ballet, like they both know exactly where the other is headed. You see Hongjoong's hips start to buck, his mouth moving down to Seonghwa's ear, then neck, his iron grip on Seonghwa's thigh leaving a mark you can see all the way from the window. Seeing the red mark brings a heat to your cheeks; the image of your porcelain doll of a friend being marked up by such a muscular man is not something you thought you'd ever witness. Now that you have, you can't help but think they're perfect together. Suddenly Hongjoong is sitting back, his hands pulling on the band of Seonghwa's shorts and throwing them aside, and you see how hard Seonghwa is, his movements showing how obviously needy he is.

Fuck, I really should stop watching them, you think. You'd seen them both naked before, it's not like your friend group was uncomfortable with much. But this was obviously different, and the way your body was feeling while you witnessed it made you feel a confused and a little guilty. Still, you could not pull yourself away, as you saw Hongjoong lean down over Seonghwa and say something, and Seonghwa's lips curl up in a smile, his head turning to the side as he grabbed onto Hongjoong's arm. They looked so, so in love. With Seonghwa's legs spread Hongjoong reached down, his hand moving between his cheeks, moving in a way you could not make out from your distance. Seonghwa's head fell back in obvious pleasure, and his back arched slightly showing off his lean abdomen. Hongjoong moved his head down to suck on one of his nipples, making Hwa's back arch even further and his mouth fall open. He looked so completely content in such a vulnerable state, and it made your heart ache with happiness. In all of the conversations you'd had with him over the years, you knew he always felt so self-conscious in these situations. It was always shocking to you, given just how beautiful he was. He got propositioned out in public more than anyone in your group, and had to continually turn people down given the industry he worked in. But all of that attention felt uncomfortable to him, usually, and you knew that. To see him so unabashedly open with someone was a rare sight.

Hongjoong's hand moves up and then you see, a tiny glint of something metal in his hand. It must have been a plug Seonghwa had inside himself already. When had he put that in? It must have been after the game, so before the movie? When did he even have the time? You can't stop watching the way Hongjoong lines himself up, stroking a hand through Seonghwa's hair again, finally pushing himself in ever so slowly. The plug sits next to them on the lounging chair, and you swear the gem on the end twinkles at you. He starts thrusting slowly, kissing Seonghwa's cheek, the rain starting to pick up again. It all feels so cinematic, like it couldn't have been more perf-

"What are you looking at?" Yunho whispers into your ear, sliding up behind you. You jump, spinning away from the window and covering your eyes, your elbow hitting him in the ribs.

"Oh god, ow," he says, grabbing his side.

"You scared me," you pout, your head feeling full of molasses from all of the feelings you are having.

"I whispered," he replied. "Why are you so jumpy, are you okay? Why did you you leave the couch?"

"I was cold, I was gonna grab your hoodie. But then, the window, you know, it was pretty outside with the storm and stuff," you reply, averting your eyes.

"Seems like my hoodie is in danger of being re-homed," he replies. He's trying to joke around to lighten your mood, which is obviously not good at the moment. Your eyes on the floor make him worried, and you really don't seem yourself. Or rather, you seem like how you are when you aren't feeling well.

"Here, why don't we look out the window together?" he offers, turning you around to face it again, wrapping his arms around you to try to help you feel warm.

"Oh god, Yunho, no," you mumble as he turns you, and you start stepping out of his reach, mortified at what he's about to see. You feel his arms stretch out and his body begin to move with you, but then he halts.

"Oh, that's what you were looking at," he laughs under his breath, making you cringe. You hope he leaves it at that, that he doesn't say anything else. But soon he opens his mouth again. "Oh god, that's crazy," he says, and you look back to see his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looks almost horrified, and you wonder for a moment if he's even seeing what you think he's seeing, or if it's something else entirely. With a confused look on your face you scoot towards the window again, to catch a glimpse of whatever has him so shocked.

As soon as your eye line reaches Seonghwa and Hongjoong you too feel a shock, at just how hard Hongjoong is thrusting into him now, his hand on Seonghwa's neck. No longer do the two look like a balletic couple; instead one has clearly submitted to the other. You know from conversations with him that Seonghwa likes being taken like this, or at least has always liked the idea of it. He'd told you many times how he'd never really had any partners he trusted enough to go there with, but that he wished he could. You feel strangely proud of him, as you realize he'd had to have a difficult conversation with Hongjoong to make this happen.

"Yunho, stop," you say, tugging on his arm to pull him into the library with you.

"You saw what I saw, right?" he asks, his voice still low but sounding mildly concerned.

"Yeah, why?" you ask, seeing his hoodie on the corner of the pull out couch and making a bee line for it.

"You just, don't seem concerned," he says.

"Why would I be concerned?" you ask, your eyebrows knitted together. You really don't know why he'd have a problem with the two of them being together, but suddenly you worry there's something about Yunho that you didn't know.

"Hongjoong was being so aggressive with him," he says, voice even softer.

"Oh, Yunho, he-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to overshare. You're so thankful he doesn't have a problem with them for any other reason. "It's not really my place to share but, let's just say I know he likes that. I'm sure he asked for it."

"Well, I guess that makes a lot of sense," he laughs, his relief palpable. You cock your head to the side, looking confused. "Oh you know what I mean," he continues. "Hwa is so professional, pretty, put together all the time. Of course he likes being taken like a whore."

"Yunho, what the fuck," you say, shoving your face in his hoodie to try to cover up your laugh. You can't help finding what he said hilarious, and his read of Seonghwa is completely spot on. But you can't believe the words actually left his lips. "How can you say that about him?"

"You're the one who was standing and watching them for what, five whole minutes? I waited a while to come and check on you," he says, staring you down as you finally put on his hoodie, your hair a mess under the hood.

"God, please don't tell anyone," you groan into your hands. "It's weird, I know, I'm sorry. I just, they seem very compatible, and I'm happy Hwa has found someone like that. I don't know."

"It's not weird, I know you like watching that kind of stuff," he replies.

"I do not, what are you talking about?" you reply, your cheeks feeling warm again.

"Ok I know it's only one example, but remember our school trip senior year? When those people in the hotel across the street were fucking and they left their curtains wide open? You couldn't stop staring."

"I'm never living that down," you sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with doing that, at least I don't think so. If people are fucking in public then they know someone might see. They probably even like the idea," he says, chuckling.

"I'm not a big pervert who reads smut all the time and likes watching people fuck," you pout, hitting him on the arm.

"I know," he murmurs, pulling you into a hug. "I'd still love you if you were, though."

Love. Your heart stops at the word for a moment, and you don't know why. You'd said it to each other thousands, probably tens of thousands of times in the ten years you'd known him. But now it's making you feel like your heart has fallen into your stomach, and you might puke it up. You sag against Yunho, pains wracking through you again. You almost feel relief, at realizing the feeling was just your cramps.

"I don't feel good," you groan into his chest.

"I know, I could tell," he says, rubbing a hand along your back.

"How?" you ask, tensing in anticipation of his answer.

"Cause you're being kind of weird with me today," he sighs out, hugging you even more tightly.

"I'm sorry," you say, having known it would be his answer. It was the thing him and Seonghwa had helped you realize; no matter how much you could hide the physical symptoms of anything, the changes in your personality were always there when you weren't feeling well. And those two, knowing you as well as they did, always picked up on it.

"Do you want to go back out there? Or stay in here?" he asks you.

"I just want to lay in here for a bit, by myself," you say, not wanting to expose him any longer to your sour mood. "I'll come out for dinner, can you let me know when everyone's eating?"

"Of course," he says, lifting you up and placing you on your bed. In the comfort of the library everything feels so intimate, and you tug him down to come lay with you too, for just a second. Wrapped around each other you both sigh, Yunho nuzzling his face into your neck and leaving a gentle kiss. He feels overcome with concern, his heart wanting to stay next to you like this, forever. But you'd said you wanted to lay by yourself. He pulls himself up, tightening the strings of his hoodie slightly and pulling your blanket over your shoulders. As he leaves he walks gently, trying not to make any sound. In the hallway he glances briefly out the window, to see Seonghwa smiling, him and Hongjoong cuddled up together in a gentle embrace.

***

Dinner passes in a blur, your entire body feeling achey and your head starting to hurt. You'd taken your pills, drank water; there was nothing else you could do. When Yunho came to get you you'd almost declined, almost asked him to bring you food in bed. Your bleeding was definitely slowing down, but your body was feeling weaker today, and your mind was all over the place. Throughout dinner you felt like you might start crying at the smallest thing, and you clung onto Seonghwa to keep yourself from doing so. Everyone could tell you weren't feeling well, Yunho and Seonghwa rubbing your back as you sat cross legged at the large coffee table in the living room, slowly sipping at your soup. When Wooyoung brought you the bowl he had leaned down to hug you, seeing just how out of it you were.

"You don't have to stay out here with us if you don't feel well," Seonghwa said, running his hand through your hair. You leaned against him, slowly blinking to try and calm yourself.

"I don't think I can walk right now," you said, your legs hurting terribly.

"I can carry you," Yunho piped up, downing his last bite of food. "Do you want to go lay down again?"

You nodded your head, the light in the room feeling too bright despite how dim it was. You bring your hands up to cover your eyes.

"Ok, let me clean up our dishes and I'll take you to your bed," he said, standing up with your bowl and his plate in hand. When he returned he gently grabbed your hands, moving them around to the back of his neck, and then moving your legs out in front of you, scooped you up in one fluid motion. You rest your head on his chest, burying your face into his hoodie that you're still wearing.

"Feel better, we love you," Ari said, a twinkle in her eye as she watched Yunho carrying you from the room.

"I love you too," you respond weakly. You feel yourself fading, but suddenly your teeth feel too gross to sleep. "Wait, I need to brush my teeth," you tell Yunho, groaning in frustration.

"Okay, no worries," he says, his voice gentle. He walks you to the bathroom and sets you down on the toilet seat, prepping your toothbrush for you, then helps you stand to spit everything out when you're done. "Wait, I need to pee," you say, holding onto his arm tightly. He helps you sit down again, helps take off your pants and panties. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry you have to help me like this," you say, your words nearly slurring together. You're really sounding out of it, and he feels himself in that space he gets in, when you're so broken down and he's the one there to comfort you.

"Shh, it's okay," he says, brushing a tear that fell down your cheek.

"No it's not, I'm a fucking mess," you continue, more tears starting to fall. "Why can't I figure out my damn body, why does it always catch me so off guard? It must be so weird living with me," you cry, everything tumbling out in waves.

"Y/n, listen to me. Everything is okay, I'm gonna get you to bed and you'll feel better tomorrow, I promise. You are not weird to live with, you're wonderful to live with. Are you hearing me?" he asks, moving your face up to make eye contact with him. "How did I get so lucky to know you?"

His kind words only make you cry harder, and you can't stop even as you get up from the toilet and try to steady yourself. He opens the door and picks you up again, carrying you finally to your bed to lay down. In bed your body feels heavy, like you're made of lead. You haven't felt this tired in a while, and you think sleep might envelop you immediately. But the pain radiating down your thighs and up through your stomach is too bad, and you toss and turn, unable to relax as Yunho readies himself for bed.

"Y/n, what do you need?" he asks, seeing your constant movements and pained expression.

"My legs to stop hurting," you mumble. Without even opening your eyes you raise your arms out to grab at him, even though he isn't right there. Your body is moving desperately again, and something about being with him in this room makes you loose all inhibitions. "Please make them stop hurting Yuyu," you plead.

"What would help, baby?" he asks, his body feeling electric. He moves over so you can grab him; he'll follow any request you have, do anything for you.

"Touch me, again, please," you beg, your thighs and pussy aching. Yunho again grabs a towel for you, gently placing it down on your bed and smoothing it out, lifting your hips to move you onto it. You keep making little sounds of desperation, unable to stop yourself. 'I know, I know, just relax baby,' he whispers to you, watching the way your face softens at the pet name. Soon your lower half is entirely naked, and he's massaging your legs, gently brushing past your cunt a few times, making you mewl from neediness. He wants to make you feel better but he also likes seeing you like this, likes hearing you beg for him. He wasn't prepared last night for what it did to him, and he thinks he's probably already addicted to that feeling.

Finally he slowly pushes a finger in, making you moan and sigh, the relief instant. Your reaching out to pull at his face, pulling him in to kiss him hard, your breath mixing as you open your mouth to slide your tongue across his. You moan at the feeling, his tongue wet and hot, making your clit throb. 'More,' you plead, your body feeling even more opened up than the previous night, even more ready to take everything he can give. He slowly adds a second digit, not wanting to hurt you, but he can tell your desperation is high and you're needing to be well and truly fucked. 'More, more,' you almost cry, your cunt clenching hard onto his long fingers, your hips rocking to match his movements. He inserts another finger, moving slowly again as to not hurt you. Desperately you claw at his back, hands reaching underneath his shirt, leaving marks in their wake. Yunho groans at the feeling, his own cock throbbing at how needy and wet you are. 'Faster, please,' you beg. The little sounds you let out are making him harder and harder; he starts rubbing himself against your leg as he fucks you with his fingers, his cock so hard it's starting to feel like torture.

"More, please Yuyu," you beg again, tears forming in your eyes from how good it all feels.

"More fingers? You feel so tight baby," he asks you, barely able to move his hand with how hard you're clenching down on him.

"No, need you inside me," you babble, feeling how hard he is against your leg. Yunho slows his movements a bit, propping himself up on his elbow to talk to you. He wants nothing more than to fuck you right then, but there's just one problem.

"Baby, I didn't bring any condoms with me," he huffs out, his frustration obvious.

"You should have," you whine, turning your face away from him but still moving your hips against his hand.

"How was I supposed to know this was gonna happen?" he asks, laughing.

You just whine again, eyes even more teary now at the thought that you might not get what you want, and you move your hands up to cover your face. Yunho stops his movements when he sees your disappointed face, sitting himself up to look down at you. He takes his free hand and gently brushes a hair out of your face.

"You really need me to fuck you right now?" he asks, earnestly. You nod your head, looking at him through the gaps between your fingers, your lips in a pout. Yunho groans and throws his head back, your sweet and needy face making him want to do every dirty thing he can think of. "Okay, I'll be right back," he says, slowly pulling out of you. You whine in disappointment, your pussy feeling devastatingly empty. "Just sit tight for a few minutes, I'll be right back," he says, kissing your forehead.

After cleaning off his hand Yunho walks through the cabin, trying hard to go unnoticed as he passes through the living room to the master bedroom. Everyone still seems to be awake except Hongjoong and Seonghwa who lay cuddled on a couch together; Wooyoung and his cousin Yeosang are playing what appears to be a very heated card game of some kind, while the other boys watch or scroll their phones, everyone clearly winding down for the night. He's thankful to not see Ari or San present; they must be in their bedroom as he'd hoped. His heart races from how potentially awkward this interaction could be, but he feels like he's on autopilot and there's no possibility of turning back. Not when you had begged him like that, and looked at him the way you did. There was no way he wouldn't find some sort of solution to his problem.

He knocks on the door gently, hoping he's not disturbing a private moment between the two.

"Yeah?" he hears Ari ask, sounding sleepy.

"It's Yunho, can I come in for just a sec?" he asks, trying to sound casual. He doesn't want to raise any alarm bells for them, or for any of the boys in the living room who might be overhearing. And if it had just been Ari, or one of the other friends he'd known for so long it might not feel too awkward. But there are three new people on the trip this year, and he isn't sure how comfortable they would be.

"Yeah, come in," she responds. Yunho turns the door handle slowly, hoping to avoid making any loud noise. Slowly pushing open the door, he spots San in the chair in the corner, reading over something on his laptop in front of him.

"Hey, sorry this is, well, random. Do you guys happen to have a, uh, condom I could borrow?" he spits it out, not wanting to waste a second.

"Oh, yeah, uh, let me see what I've got," San replies, closing his laptop and setting it on the bed before unzipping a small pocket in his suitcase. "Here just take this box, I brought two with me," he responds.

"Are you sure?" Yunho asks. He's frankly taken aback by how casual San is being about this, and by his generosity on top of it all.

"Yeah, of course. I've got plenty and I'm glad you're asking. It's always better to be safe," he responds, a genuine smile on his face.

"Be careful with her," Ari adds, unable to stop herself. "She's very fragile."

"I'm not going to hurt her, you know that," he replies, looking at her almost coldly. He feels slightly offended at the idea that she thinks it's a possibility, after all of the years she'd known him, seen him taking care of you.

"I know. I just had to say it, she needs all the protecting she can get," she says, remembering the state you were in during dinner. "I'm sorry if that was rude. I'm- I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to ask us," she finishes, hoping she didn't cross some sort of line with him.

"She's very capable of asking for what she needs," Yunho replies, wanting to stick up for you. But his face is soft, he isn't mad.

"Which is, that?" Ari gestures at the box of condoms in his hand, trying to hold back laughter.

"Okay, that's enough," Yunho laughs, looking away from her towards the door. "Thank you both, sorry if I made that weird."

Out the door he makes his way through the living room, trying to hide the box under the hem of his shirt. Mingi is the only one who glances up to see him, registering the shape of the box underneath the fabric. He's pretty sure he knows what it is, and he smirks to himself, too tired to say anything about it. But he's happy his friend is finally getting what he's wanted.

"I'm back," Yunho whispers when he reenters the room, your face and body awash in the gentle white light from the moon. He makes quick work of opening the box, removing one condom and throwing it on the bed. In a second he's on you, peppering your face with kisses, moving his hands underneath your shirt to pull it off.

"I'm so bloated," you say, breathless.

"I need to see you," he responds, not giving you any room to keep talking about yourself that way. You tug on his shirt as well and he reaches up, pulling it off and throwing it on the floor. In the moonlight he looks pale, his long torso perfectly shaped and beautifully lean. You bring a hand up to stroke along his stomach, feeling the strong muscles underneath his skin, brushing across a small happy trail going down from his belly button into his pants. You tug on his pants too, your neediness having only grown in the few minutes he was gone. The idea of laying stark naked in front of anyone, especially in your bloated, sickly state would normally make you shudder, but in this moment you feel free, ready to take anything. He moves down to kiss you again, passionately, his tongue forcing you to open your mouth wide, his hands possessively grabbing you. Him kissing down your neck has you moaning, nearly writhing underneath him. He moves up to whisper to you, biting your earlobe gently and making you moan louder.

"You're so perfect," he whispers, the words cascading down you like a soft warm rain, any worry you had completely melting away. You tug at his pants again, helping him move them down and finally, completely off. Quickly he rolls on the condom; carefully he lines himself up with your entrance, moving his stiff cock up and down your slit, already feeling how warm and wet and ready you are. Finally he presses in, achingly slowly, until he's fully seated inside of you, the muscles of your cunt being deliciously stretched in a way they never have before.

He's big to be sure, clearly just the perfect size, stretching you just the way your body needed. Slowly he pulls out, then soothingly pushes himself back in, his cock hitting every perfect place inside you. Your mouth falls open at the feeling; you've never felt so full, so complete. He moves a hand down to your hip, anchoring himself so he can start a slow rhythm, his head buzzing with how good it all feels.

"Baby, you're so tight, fuck," he says as he tries to find a consistent pace. "Does that feel good?" he asks, eyes not leaving your face.

"Yes, yes, fuck, Yunho," you mumble, not able to form a coherent sentence.

"Relax for me then, you're so tight I can barely move," he says, trying to find the perfect angle to make your body completely give in. Quickly he readjusts himself, moving his knee to lower his angle, adding more strength to his movement. You moan, clearly feeling even better than before, so he knows he needs to lower the angle even more. "Baby, lift your hips for me," he says, grabbing a pillow from beside you to move underneath your lower back. Once you're situated he kisses you again, acutely aware of just how surrendered you are to him, words no longer forming on your lips. Slowly he adjusts his knee again, his hand still on your hip anchoring you, and he begins fucking you again from his new angle.

The immense pleasure is immediate, your back arching and your head rolling back, your moans so loud you're probably being heard throughout the rest of the cabin. But Yunho doesn't care, he's not thinking about that. All he's thinking about is the way he feels your pussy pull him in even more, your hips and thighs finally relaxing some, your whole body reacting to his change in movement.

"Shit, there you go," he praises you, feeling your legs wrap around his back, pulling him in. He's been so careful with you, so focused on not hurting you, but he can tell you need more, so he starts fucking you harder, his face nuzzling in your hair to take in everything he loves about you. He can feel the muscles of your pussy start to clench again, but it's different this time; the flutter against his cock drives him crazy, making him thrust into you even harder. Soon he feels the muscles clenching hard, your moans reaching their peak, your hands a vice grip on his arm and back.

"Good girl, let yourself come," he coos, holding you as close to him as he can, kissing your cheek and nose. It's the most heated moment, he feels himself about to come undone too, but suddenly he's overcome with fondness, a warmth flowing through his chest, making him feel emotional.

"Fuck, I love you." The words tumble out of him without warning and your own chest warms, just as your orgasm starts blooming through you, your legs shaking as Yunho continues to fuck you. You're moaning and mewling, unable to say a single actual word, but you wish you could tell him just how perfect everything is, how you haven't came like that, ever. In the heat of the moment everything felt right, and to hear him say something so sweet just as you reached your climax made it all feel even better. His tight grip on you, the way he's nuzzled into your body, it makes you feel safe and grounded and so fucking horny.

Yunho comes just after you do, his thrusts becoming inconsistent, his body going taught and then absolutely limp on top of you. You both breath deeply, your chests heaving in the quiet coolness of the room. You wish you could bottle this feeling, the way your body is limp and buzzing with pleasure, his weight on top of you making your usually busy brain filled with nothing but the feeling of him. It feels peaceful, almost spiritual. You both rest for a few minutes, not moving a muscle, except when Yunho reaches over finally to kiss you again, making you giggle.

"How are you feeling?' he asks, still not daring to move.

"So good," you slur out, a dopey smile spreading across your face.

"Good," he replies, wrapping himself around you like he loves to do. "Can I pull out of you?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you respond, moving your legs to allow him to move. He cleans you up and helps you redress, stopping every few seconds to kiss you again, tickling you too when he realizes you're in the mood for it. It takes a while for you to come back to yourself, your mind so foggy from everything that had happened. But finally, once he'd gotten you both totally ready for sleep and wrapped himself up behind you, you found you could actually speak.

"I love you too," you whisper, squeezing his hand that rests on your belly. He just cuddles you closer, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

#ateez x reader #yunho x reader #yunho smut #ateez yunho #ateez smut

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phoenixyfriend · 7 months ago

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Something something Dooku survives the Clone Wars, the Imperial Era, and even a few years past the OT...

And Luke finds him while looking for More Jedi to help him teach.

Chewie recognizes the decrepit old bastard, and there is yelling, but being A Hundred And Nine has mellowed Dooku out in his own dusty hermit hut, on the other side of the galaxy from Ben and Yoda's hermit huts.

All the Jedi ghosts are unhappy with this but Dooku is… not REFORMED, technically, but he's old and tired, even if the Force keeps him a bit more healthy and energized than the average Old Guy, and humans routinely live to pretty unreal old ages in the gffa anyway so really 109 for them is probably like 85 for us.

But yeah. Old mountain hermit (to contrast the desert and the swamp) who's been in hiding from That Dick Sidious since he lost both hands to babyface Vader in 19BBY.

@jebiknights (Sammie) said:

Dooku finds out Luke was also trained by Yoda and is like "oh Yoda finally gave me a younger brother like I always wanted"

Alternately he could probably get Luke to call him Great-Great-Grandfather.

Sammie: Funniest option is he's both which makes Luke even more confused lmao Ghost Obi wan in the background like "stop fucking using non Jedi terms to describe Jedi relationships it doesn't fucking work"

Luke calls him, irreverently, Gramps, but also. Leia definitely recognizes him as a Recent Historic Political Figure, but not until AFTER Luke has already integrated Dooku into his new Jedi school.

"Why did Chewie let him do that?" He thought it was funny. (And/or if you like Chewku, you can make this some sordid exes thing.)

"Why did R2 let him do that?" Best keep evil man in electrical prodding range.

Sammie: Leia comes to the school for her biweekly Jedi lessons and sees the newest teacher was a traitor to the Republic 😭

Best if they can find Quin or Ventress out in the black. Partly because like. Does this make Ventress their step-grandma (Quinlan's on-off something) or their great-great-aunt (Dooku's 4th apprentice)?

Sammie: Both and also Luke's niece. Luke has a migraine by the end of it and Leia is ready to disown herself. Ventress: I didn't realize the Jedi were so incestuous Luke: war flashbacks to before he realized Leia was his sister

Ahsoka in the corner with Spacebucks, five years late "Y'all suck. Hey, Quin."

Sammie: I know you likely didn't bring up Quinlan thinking of QuinObi but now I'm imagining Quinlan declaring himself their grandpa when he meets the twins bc 1) he loves to cause chaos 2) he does/did consider Anakin his kid even if not in neat non Jedi terms and 3) Obi-Wan thought being considered Anakin's father made him sound old, and Quinlan needs to harass him beyond the grave

Dooku must have a cane that the ghosts heckle him about because He Clearly Wants To Be Just Like Yoda.

@lyntergalactic (Lyn) said:

I feel like evil gramps could really bring out Ahsoka's snark once she shows up and that would be highly entertaining Ahsoka is simultaneously his most and least favorite grandchild

She's the most experienced as a Jedi (Ventress went full Sith, not just leaving the Order but following the tenets like Ahsoka, and Quinlan isn't in the lineage), has never Fallen unless you count that thing on Mortis.

Also she WILL bitch Dooku out at this age, and honestly he kind of appreciates the brutal honesty.

Ahsoka: I'm not a Jedi. All the old people: Lies

She brings up the Hondo incident since nobody else is putting in the effort. Anakin and Obi-Wan COULD as ghosts but nooooooo she has to do everything around here.

Sammie: Oh but it sets them off so hard they can barely get the story off from laughing NGL I think the twins did not understand how truly annoying Obi-Wan and Anakin could be together until the Hondo story gets told.

They are The Worst.

#star wars #count dooku #luke skywalker #leia organa #asajj ventress #quinlan vos #quinobi #incest mention #(the canon incident)#quintress #obi wan kenobi #master yoda #anakin skywalker #force ghosts #phoenix posts

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moonagedaydreamsofrhiannon · 4 months ago

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IN DEFENSE OF TRAVIS MARTINEZ:

Because I’m sick and tired of seeing travis hate everywhere I go.

“Travis was sexist.”

Did he spout some sexist rhetoric in the beginning of the show? Sure. But it’s important to recognize that: A) he changed, and by season 2 he completely stopped, B) he was a teenage boy in the 1990s, and that kind of rhetoric was normal at the time, C) most of his sexist macho tough guy attitude was a complete act that he likely put on to compensate for his insecurity about his own masculinity, and internalized homophobia. (More on that later.)

(Also let’s be real, Travis is basically one of the girls anyway and I’m tired of pretending he’s not.)

2. “Travis didn’t care about Javi.”

Did we watch the same show??? Granted Travis may have had trouble expressing his feelings (also related to his insecurities about masculinity, likely learned from his father, as well as growing up in a patriarchal and homophobic society), but he cared deeply about Javi. In S1E4, Travis literally DUG UP HIS DAD’S GRAVE, through horror, tears, and vomit, in order to retrieve his ring to give to Javi. When Javi disappeared, Travis kept looking for him every day for months, and never gave up, even when logically it would have seemed impossible for him to still be alive. He comforted and reassured Javi when neither of them drew the card. He cradled Javi’s dead body and ate a bite of his raw heart (which was a metaphor for how much he loved him, and a parallel to Shauna eating Jackie’s raw ear.) Maybe Travis wasn’t always there for Javi in the way he needed, but he absolutely loved him, and it’s important to remember that Travis was also a traumatized, grieving, kid who just lost his dad.

3. “Travis slut-shamed Nat.”

As we are literally shown in the show, Travis was not trying to slut shame her, he asked how many times she had done it because he was embarrassed about the fact that he was a virgin, and worried that she would judge him, or that he wouldn’t measure up because he was more inexperienced than her. When she told him she hooked up with Bobby Farleigh, he did not get mad at her because she slept with another guy (he already knew about that, and was fine with it), he got mad because she hooked up with his bully, and then lied to him about it. I don’t blame Nat for this, she didn’t know about it at the time, and didn’t want him to get mad once she found out, but I also don’t blame Travis for being hurt and embarrassed and upset with her for lying about it.

4. “Travis was just kind of a dick.”

Sure, but so were all of them. He acted like kind of a jerk in the first season. So what? Shauna had an affair with her best friend’s boyfriend, lied to her about it for months, and refused to apologize. Misty tried to drug Coach Ben. Nat faked his brother’s death to him (yeah, she was trying to help him move on, but still not cool). All of them called him “Flex” (y’know, the nickname that was used to bully him for years). None of them are perfect or nice or likable all the time, and that’s ok; that’s the whole point. They’re realistic, complex, flawed, morally gray and sometimes unlikable people. They’ve all done bad things, but nothing Travis did is worse than what anyone else on that show has done. He was a traumatized teen whose dad literally just died. Also, me personally, if everyone around me was constantly calling me the mean nickname that was used to bully me since middle school, I would also probably act like a little bit of a dick.

5. “Travis is a straight man.”

Wrong. (Also not really a valid reason to hate someone… But most importantly, just wrong.)

Travis Martinez is clearly a bisexual.

So many of his issues: the insecurity, the bullying, the macho tough guy act, the whole weird complex about his masculinity, all of it stems (at least partly) from the fact that he’s bisexual and has internalized homophobia. The whole “Flex” thing is just thinly veiled homophobia. The main reason why he got bullied is because Bobby Farleigh spread a rumor about him getting back surgery to better suck his own dick. The unsaid implication there is that he’s a man who sucks dick, which is inherently queer, even if it is his own. If you look even slightly past the most surface level interpretation, it’s pretty obvious that Travis was bullied because of homophobia. His performance of stereotypical toxic masculinity was clearly over compensation for the fact that he doesn’t fit into the box of traditional straight masculinity, and was a reaction to the bullying from his peers, abuse from his dad, and internalized homophobia from growing up in a homophobic and patriarchal society. As the show progresses he starts to unlearn that toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia, and he allows himself to be more vulnerable, emotional, and feminine, and as a result, he becomes stronger, more confident, and more respectful of the people around him.

As for Travis being a man… Is he though???

In season 1, Travis is a man (narratively speaking); there is a clear distinction between Travis/Coach Ben and the girls. However, in season 2, we see a stark shift in how Travis is depicted. The separation between Travis and the girls pretty much ceases to exist. Narratively speaking, there is no distinction made between Travis and the other girls; they are one entity—one hive mind. Instead, the emphasis is now placed on the distinction between Coach Ben and the girls/Travis. When Coach Ben watches the Yellowjackets eat Jackie in horror and disbelief, Travis is right there with them, dressed in ancient greek robes along with the rest of them. In season 2, Coach Ben is the only real Man of the group (Travis has narratively become one of the girls, and Javi is just a boy, not a man) and he is shown staying separate from the rest of the group, and growing more and more uncomfortable with the cultish dynamics, while Travis, on the other hand, becomes more and more integrated with the group, as he falls deeper and deeper into cult beliefs, until he is a full-blown devout Lottie worshipper. Of the three males on the show, he is the only one who actually participates in cannibalism with the other Yellowjackets. Also he lost his virginity to a lesbian.

Whether or not you choose to believe that Travis is transfem (I do) you cannot deny that, at least narratively speaking, Travis is literally just a girl.

6. Travis is a victim.

I don’t know why nobody in this fandom seems to acknowledge this, but Travis is a sexual assault victim and I’m tired of people constantly overlooking and ignoring that fact. In Doomcoming, the girls (excluding Jackie, Nat, Tai, and Van) chased him down, sexually assaulted him, and then tried to kill him. That’s not something that’s up for debate or denial, that is literally canon. Stop pretending it didn’t happen. Stop pretending it wasn’t assault. Stop shaming him and making fun of him for struggling with sex, or not always being able to get it up. That’s a normal trauma response after being assaulted/raped. You guys are literally proving the point. This kind of treatment from society towards masculinity and male victims is just playing into the patriarchy and toxic masculinity, and is exactly what made him act the way he did in season 1 in the first place!

#yellowjackets #travis martinez #travis yellowjackets #travnat #natalie scatorccio #natalie x travis #jackie taylor #shauna shipman #misty quigley #yellowjackets s2 #yellowjackets season 2 #natalie yellowjackets #javi martinez #javi yellowjackets #doomcoming #transfem travis martinez #bi4bi travnat #yj

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givehimthemedicine · 2 months ago

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time for my big lumax rantpost. I used to be way more of a shipper but upon reexamining some of my GA-era assumptions, I'm here to tell you why it sucks, and why I don't look forward to lumax endgame if it's the same lumax we've been getting.

lumax has fantastic potential, but needs lots of work to actually become the ship most of the fandom thinks it is.

I get the sense most on here consider lumax ST's darling perfect ship which is sullied by weak and/or racist writing. while I wouldn't argue at all that the writing does right by Lucas, I do think it's important to recognize lumax as an intentionally-written badly flawed relationship, NOT a poorly-written perfect relationship. (the writing for 5 has a lot to prove so we'll see)

lumax is obviously happening. no ending to Lucas's story makes sense other than him getting the girl. however, I don't like that from either character's standpoint.

from hers - Max is not a prize. and from his - Max is no prize.

Max is a pretty shitty girlfriend.

we've never seen her show Lucas any interest in learning anything about him. I can't remember a time she's complimented him, said anything nice about him, or done anything purely for his benefit. virtually all of their serious conversations have been about her, and the scant few that are sort of about him are inevitably just a lead-in to him offering support to her.

Lucas and Max's relationship - pre, during, and post dating - is 100% about what he can do for her. he's the one making 100% of the effort.

it seems like most of their interactions are him walking on eggshells trying to placate, reassure, or convince her, all for the reward of.... what. being allowed to continue existing near her? like yeah, she's a cool girl, but. that can't be it.

what good is getting the girl if the girl doesn't really offer anything?

. . .

through the seasons, semiquickly:

season 2

Lucas and Dustin both like Max, so they invite her trick or treating, offering to protect her from bullies and show her where the good candy is. in other words, the first Max / Lucas interaction is him offering something to benefit her. Max returns no appreciation or even response to the invite, yet still shows up to reap the benefits.

that pretty much sets the tone.

Max wants to be included, but that's a sensitive subject, so she puts on aloof airs to protect herself. it's an act, but nonetheless it's all Lucas receives.

the facade slips on multiple occasions though; Lucas is permitted to see her vulnerability, and we can see she's actually more desperate to make the connection than he is.

Dustin seeks Steve's manipulation tactics to use on Max, but Lucas wins her over by treating her like an equal and offering her genuine friendship.

he risks both his place in the party and his safety/life to include her, gives his undivided attention when she talks to him, asks questions that show his interest and concern, he reassures, uplifts and compliments her, and physically protects her.

in return, Max. uhh. well she does apologize for being a jerk, although she doesn't exactly stop, lmao. this is one of only two moments I can think of when Max reveals any regard for what Lucas thinks of her.

lumax is off-balance before it even starts, although s2 is when I think that dynamic is most permissible. since Max is a newcomer, Lucas has the advantage in many respects, and it makes sense for him to be the one extending a hand to her.

when Billy attacks Lucas for hanging out with Max, he could be gravely hurt if not for Steve taking the beating instead. Max joins in the momentary group hug but never says a word about this. (I suspect the writers mean for Max's bus apology to have proactively served as a veiled "sorry my stepbro is racist" but more felt needed in that moment.)

then they go to the dance and she kisses him and it's cute and everything is happy for ten whole seconds.

between 2 and 3

even though the summer of '85 is "the good days," this relationship is already careening downhill.

we learn that Max has dumped Lucas five times - such a regular occurrence that he takes it in stride and is well practiced at winning her back as a result.

unfortunately it's Lucas taking to heart the "happy wife happy life" policy from his dad that's set up lumax as something that seems to serve only Max. her awareness of the policy means she holds all the cards.

season 3

Max has secured her place in the party and the relationship, and now it's time for her to bring something to the table, but I honestly can't name one thing. it's still Lucas bending over backwards and Max sometimes being a bit of a jerk. (another act. we'll come back to this)

from the start of 3 we see an excessively secure Max and an obsequious Lucas. she doesn't show him any of the vulnerability that made her endearing in 2. they share fun moments, but we can infer that she doesn't treat him very well in ways that matter.

at one point she even plays mad just to watch him panic. you get the feeling this boy can never feel secure in his relationship. yeah she's just teasing, but do you think Lucas is allowed to tease too?

when El comes to Max for advice, she tells her that "boyfriends lie all the time" and this is before we see Lucas lie to her.

when Mike comes to Lucas for advice, he confidently schools him on how to get back in El's good graces by buying her a present - making clear he's been following his dad's advice all summer long and it's been working:

L: Dad? When Mom's mad at you, how do you make her not mad? C: First, I apologize. Then, I get your mother whatever she wants. L: Even when she's wrong? C: She's never wrong, son.

the mall confrontation is the first time we see Lucas really lie to Max, but even then, the girls don't actually have proof Nana isn't sick.

it's telling, actually, that Lucas's loyalty goes to Mike instead of Max in this moment. in s2 it was the other way around (Lucas pissed off the whole party by including her in the group and telling her the truth - a technically banishable offense). but now he's back to his s1 bros before hoes policy, and not only backs up but expands on Mike's lie. after dating almost a year, his loyalty to Max should be even stronger, but here we see the opposite. if Max had been at least as good a friend to him as Mike, I'm inclined to think he would at least have tried to be noncommittal here.

Max is so confident Lucas will have nothing on his mind but winning her back, as always - meanwhile who we actually see Lucas apologizing to is Will.

she may have had Lucas wrapped around her little finger all summer, but we're seeing that start to uncoil. if Lucas apologizes, it's offscreen.

when Billy tries to break out of the sauna to kill Max, Lucas slingshots him and body shields Max during the fight. next thing you know, Max is back to being cliquey with El in the bathroom (making fun of Mike even though he was the only one who did anything to save El's life?? girl you're being shitty to boyfriends that aren't even yours)

they seem to be a couple again by the end of 3, but the relationship is weakened...

between 3 and 4

..which sets the scene for how the two apparently drift when Max ends it once again. she's not playing this time - she uses the term "break up" instead of "dump" and Lucas has accepted that it's over.

depression makes it hard for Max to connect with him, but the way she treated him in 3 has likely also eaten away at his insistence on prioritizing her. if you push someone away over and over you can't be too surprised if they stay further away each time.

so Max withdraws socially and Lucas apparently doesn't go to his usual lengths to pursue her.

he's still making effort though! the "stalking" comment makes it clear he's been trying to approach her. we know he's been inviting her to his basketball games. him already knowing her favorite song as of 4x4 is more evidence of him taking an interest in her between seasons.

he clearly still cares a lot about Max, but good for him for pursuing his own hobbies and friendships as well.

season 4

Lucas finally asks Max to do something to support him for once (come to his game), but she shuts it down hard.

we know Max still cares about him, but that's just it - WE know. he doesn't. to his face, it's bristling rejection even while he literally begs for the chance to support her.

saving Max's life is a group effort, but Lucas knowing her favorite song is the key that saves her life, and it's only after that that she's friendly towards him again.

the only time I can recall Max expressing any concern for Lucas's wellbeing is when she asks if he's okay in 4x6 - and he only gets a few sentences to process Patrick's death before it's time for him to turn it into an apology to her. sigh.

Lucas is the only one of Max's friends to voice any objection to her suicide mission of a Vecna plan, and pitches for them to gamble a stranger's life instead. he once again risks his life to hang out in the Creel house with Max, personally taking on the huge responsibility of making sure she doesn't die.

Vol 2 Max finally shows Lucas some long-awaited appreciation ("you might have been there" and "I'm glad you're here") which is very nice to see.

I'm conflicted about the movie invite scene, but we'll talk about that later. textually: he asks her out, she accepts, it's totes adorbs.

unfortunately, Max being tranced out by the time Jason walks in means it's time for Lucas once again to get attacked by an older, stronger guy who's wrongly convinced he's a danger to her. (again not her fault, but kinda because of her)

everything goes sideways, Max gets Vecna'd, and Lucas holds her while she dies. we end on a bruised Lucas sitting loyally at Max's bedside, reading to her just in case she can hear it inside her coma.

Lucas hasn't been perfect but he has spent yet another season physically protecting and emotionally supporting Max at great personal expense, and with little appreciation and no support in return.

. . .

the movie doodle didn't fix lumax

Max has had an epiphany, but a change of behavior has scarcely begun. being nice isn't the same as making amends. they've resolved zero of the old issues, plus 4 (even if the plan had worked) has heaped a ton of new shit on both of them.

she's still a grieving, neglected, depressed and passively suicidal child of a triply-broken home. dating doesn't fix that. they already broke up once under the same conditions.

plus Max has new catastrophic emotional traumas, some of which which explicitly exacerbate those very issues. she has catastrophic injuries and disability to cope with (and this is a girl who withdraws under stress normally). with a shred of realism, she's waking up in less a mood for dating than ever.

Lucas has also taken on new traumas, between the basketball team stuff, getting beaten up and almost shot/strangled, and watching Max get Vecna'd and die. he already has a history of guilt about not being there for her enough, so he's going to have a lot more about failing her in that moment (definitely not his fault but he'll still feel bad) and will likely be even more focused on her.

to me, this all sounds like a recipe for the same old dynamic except worse than ever. if they get sleeping beauty'd directly back into lumax, it'll be a disservice to both characters.

. . .

now let's talk about why Max treats Lucas the way she does 🔬

she's not a conniving bitch, she's just a scared kid from a toxic home. that doesn't excuse her behavior but it does make it understandable.

Max CAN be a great friend. she's just not to Lucas.

Max absolutely showers El with the good qualities she'll barely show Lucas. in fact I could loosely say Max is to El what Lucas is to Max.

Max is suspicious and disparaging towards Lucas, even while trusting that he can be counted upon to grovel. meanwhile El never apologizes for intentionally hurting Max both physically and emotionally, yet the moment El acknowledges her (only because she wants help), Max is instantly forgiving, kind, gentle, caring, generous and supportive towards her.

she throws her loyalty behind a friend of 1 afternoon over her boyfriend of a year who's been the only person in Hawkins to show her any true kindness and emotional connection.

if Max was half the friend to Lucas that she is to El, she'd be a decent girlfriend. why isn't she?

we can name a few reasons why Max IS so nice to El, but why she ISN'T to Lucas is a separate question. kindness isn't zero-sum.

she told us why. boyfriends lie.

and it's ANY boyfriend, not just hers. Nana's sick? more like Mike's a lying piece of shit! Suzie from camp? fake! Dustin's obviously lying! the only one of the boys Max has never accused of lying is Will - the only one who's been single the whole time.

just. the state of being a boyfriend (or even just liking a girl is close enough), makes any boy automatically a liar.

Max believes "friend" and "boyfriend" are mutually exclusive

"Friends don't lie!" "Yeah, well, boyfriends lie all the time." <- it's all right there.

back in 2 when Lucas was her friend, she was more open and trusting. she gave him the benefit of the doubt that monsters were real and he knew a girl with magic powers. starting to date flipped the switch, and now she doesn't trust him about mundane stuff.

now they're not friends, they're boyfriend/girlfriend, and she expects to be treated in a whole different way, including all the baggage that comes with romantic relationships in her mind.

what baggage?

Max's childhood is full of examples of awful, manipulative men and abusive, broken relationships.

her dad: I'd only be speculating about why her parents' marriage failed, but in 2 Max misses California because her dad is still there, then by 4 acts like it's doubtful he can even be tracked down for delivery of what's basically her suicide letter. it's clear she desired a relationship with her dad but was abandoned. Neil: abusive asshole who rules the household with an iron fist. I'd be shocked if he hasn't abused Susan, and see little reason he wouldn't do it in front of Max (after all, we see him verbally and physically abuse his first wife in front of his son, in a bad fight over suspected lies/infidelity). in his grief over Billy, Neil and Susan have "bad fights" and he leaves the family. he's not missed, but it's still a second abandonment by a father figure. Billy: Max's peer example of guys in relationships: a sleazy, two-faced asshole who treats girls like trash and completely changes his persona to manipulate them for sex or whatever else he wants (Max appears to be all too aware of his sex life and is disgusted). abandonment issues with him too: a good relationship with a big brother would've meant the world to her, but he rejected and probably abused her for years; her letter at his grave reads "ever since you left" - same word she used for Neil.

Max desperately hopes Lucas is an exception to the rule, but these are the behaviors she would naturally fear from any guy she dates.

Max is especially terrified of being abandoned (and that she deserves it)

to be abandoned over and over can naturally leave a kid wondering if it's their fault, if this is the treatment they deserve.

Lucas is overall quite honest, and there's not an abusive bone in his body. the most realistic one of Max's fears to apply to him is that someday he'll leave her, too.

and that's the worst fear Vecna chooses to voice in Lucas's form: realizing he's been wrong about her, that she's fundamentally bad and he's glad she's going to be killed. a gutting abandonment from the guy she most wants to trust.

Vecna-Susan also tells Max that she deserves what's going to happen to her, that she's "broken everything" and that her letters can't make things right. because he's in full Vecna mode when he says it, I just took those as very general condemnations at first. but they hurt even worse when I remember they're still coming from "Susan" - revealing that Max feels she has broken her family.

she wanted Billy to die, and she figures Neil left because Billy died, so that's two of the abandonments being "her fault". if that's true, Max would also feel responsible for destroying her mom's life - having cost her her marriage, home, and financial security.

in her addictions Susans has, in an emotional sense, abandoned Max just like all her other family members - and Max fears she deserves it. how desperate she was for this hug... :(

anyway, back to lumax: let's reexamine those s3 dumpings

what exactly did Lucas even do? we never find out.

on first watch, I took "boyfriends lie" at face value and assumed Lucas got caught fibbing. but that doesn't fit so well.

he's maybe the party member most invested in "friends don't lie". honesty to his friends is a pillar of his character. again, he caused friction in 2 because he so strongly prioritized honesty to Max. to assume based on one line from an unreliable narrator that he randomly became a huge liar over the summer is unfair.

via their counseling of Mike and El, Lucas and Max tell us what's been going on with lumax

Max tells El:

He'll come crawling back to you in no time, begging for forgiveness. I guarantee him and Lucas are totally wallowing in self-pity and misery right now like "ohh, I hope they take us back!"

I think we all clocked that one: Max thinks that because El followed her technique, Mike will come crawling back - because Lucas has come crawling back to her several times now.

but I haven't seen much discussion about how the spying scene (which "he'll come crawling back" is paired with) shows Lucas assuring Mike that he's been dumped for an unfair and illogical reason because that's what Max has done to him several times now.

M: I just don't understand what I did to deserve this. L: Nothing. Nothing. That's my whole point. You are the victim here. Stop asking rational questions. M: I know, I know, you're right. Because women act on emotion and not logic. L: Precisely. It's a totally different species.

Max is pissed. but has she been irrational, acting on emotion and not logic, and dumping him for no apparent reason all summer? signs point to yes.

and I understand Lucas saying this. it's not pure misogyny out of nowhere; he's been told that his mother expects gifts and apologies even when wrong, Max acts that way too, and now so apparently does El. all of his examples concur that this is just how women in relationships are. (Charles Sinclair how many relationships will your advice destroy lmao)

both Max and Lucas are bringing preconceptions from home.

Max acts this way on purpose

I don't think she's dumped him over truly nothing (although that's how it looks to him). I'm thinking she blows real, minor missteps out of proportion.

any time Lucas does something slightly insensitive, it looks like the first red flag to her, and instead of communicating in a constructive way, she just throws up this "boys aint shit" force field and dumps him. of course she doesn't truly want to be rid of him, she's just sorta snapping the leash.

I think Max knows what she's doing. I think she wants to keep Lucas always on his back foot, because the relationship isn't as scary if she feels like she holds all the power.

she's always trying to cover up fear/sorrow with anger, because anger gives an illusion of control. and she's been conscious of that anger, and the fact that it's unfair to Lucas, since the beginning - that's what she apologized for on the bus. "I guess I'm angry too, and I'm sorry."

she was mature enough at 13 to see the error in her behavior, but still not mature enough by 15 to fix it. every season has just been a slightly different flavor of "leave before you get left".

so, that's my take on Max's relationship behavior. but again, explanations aren't excuses. Lucas deserves to be treated well, and that's not happening.

what needs to happen?

simply maturing more will help them both a lot. being 15 is a terrible condition in of itself.

I don't see Lucas dumping Max's ass, but she should take her own advice before the relationship continues: explain herself and fix the garbage parts of her behavior.

before Max can be the girlfriend Lucas deserves, she needs a substantial period of physical and emotional healing.

she needs renewed connections with her friends and family, and a lot of general growth in the area of communication and processing her feelings.

in regards to Lucas, she needs to work on her trust issues, and learn to extend him the treatment warranted by his behavior, not the behavior she fears from others. she needs to learn that "friend" and "girlfriend" aren't mutually exclusive, that real friendship is the key to their relationship, and is a two-way street.

any Billy racism/assault acknowledgement would be better years late than never, especially if grieving Billy continues to be a focus in front of Lucas.

Lucas could also use a little work

the relentless positivity doesn't serve Max well. often it turns out to be empty reassurances which make her feel let down (so, a soft version of the lies she fears). she let him know in 4x4 that this hurts her, but he kept doing it for the rest of the season.

but the big one is that "happy wife happy life" doesn't serve him well, and rewarding unfair treatment perpetuates the problem. yes, the ability to compromise, swallow pride, and be the bigger person are healthy parts of a relationship, as well as the willingness to extend grace to your partner/friend when they're struggling. but it always being on one designated person is a recipe for dissatisfaction and resentment.

Lucas should voice to Max that he, too, has struggles and needs support. I'd like to see him pursue outside interests unapologetically.

no, this isn't an exhaustive list, and I don't expect to see everything fixed at once, or explicitly processed onscreen. but I sure hope we get some evidence of change, and that this has all been part of an arc.

for instance, I'd love for the final lumax reconciliation to be Max asking Lucas to take her back.

I kind of hope not to see them officially together until the very end. in fact I'd so much rather see ST end on a good Max / Lucas friendship with an implied romantic future than jump back to the status quo.

l don't want to see lumax until it's a new lumax, based on real, reciprocal friendship.

#even with the length I rambled this is still oversimplified and left out stuff re: both. but. just to get the conversation started.#you don't want elm*x because lucas. I don't want lumax because lucas. we are not the same #I think people fawn over lumax because they're kind of a milkvan foil and therefore must be perfect?#lowkey seeing lucas date someone else for a bit would straighten 4 max out. girlie careful acting like you're the only fish in the sea <3 #the more I think about it the more I'd like lumax to completely break up and live in different towns and then try again as adults #if the max waking up scene has a kiss in it I'm turning off the tv #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #lumax #givehimthemedicine analysis

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nofomogirl · 7 months ago

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We need to talk about body snatching

I'm not a massive fan of the 1827 minisode - if you're curious why it bothers me, I've explained it in my post about two GO canons - but there's no denying it does an amazing job at exploring the complexity of morality and moral choices. It starts with a very black-and-white two-dimensional image and gradually adds shading and perspective, making it harder and harder to judge as we go along.

I think it's worth digging into (pun not intended but I'll take it).

Layer 1: body snatching bad

We learn someone did something

It's those first few seconds where we see a person robbing a grave, and since we know that robbing graves is a crime and generally not a good thing to do, we can quickly form a tentative conclusion that this is wrong.

Okay, in this exact instance, we immediately get enough context clues to see that this kind of judgment would be oversimplistic and superficial. Only Aziraphale, who for some reason acts as if it was his first day on Earth after a thorough memory wipe, is ready to condemn Elspeth based on just that.

Nevertheless, this is the first layer - the deed itself with no context.

Layer 2: body snatching acceptable

We learn about the person who did the thing

That's the whole journey with the first dug-up body where we get to know Elspeth and become privy to her circumstances - she's desperately poor, she has another person depending on her, she robs graves to survive. Aziraphale's suggestions that she might earn her living by selling books, weaving or farming just serve to prove how inaccessible more honest and dignified professions are to her. In turn, her comment about how she's not hurting anybody who isn't already dead hints that from the realistically available options, Elspeth could have chosen something much worse.

Technically this layer is a significant step up from layer 1 but it still isn't really challenging. Things are spelt out really loud for us, and most importantly everything we learn about Elspeth is just attenuating circumstances. To top it off both she and Wee Morag are immediately endearing. The takeaway is that sometimes things that in theory are bad can be excused which is important but the verdict still comes without any second thoughts.

Layer 3: body snatching complicated

We learn the larger context around the thing

This mostly happens when Aziraphale and Crowley discuss body snatching with Mr Dalrymple. We learn that the stolen corpses are used for a medical study that can advance human knowledge and make it possible to save living people and that surgeons have no legal means to obtain enough of them for their research - hence their need to buy them from body snatchers.

At first glance it's just more of what we got in layer 2 - more agruments in favour of body snatching that aren't all that nuanced and don't really give us any pause - just from a larger perspective, beyond Elspeth's individual experience. But if you glance more than once you'll notice this is when things stop being straightforward and easy to judge.

The moment we enter a proper grey area is when Aziraphale asks why Mr Dalrymple doesn't acquire the bodies himself. This is a very valid question - while we might easily agree that studying the human body to further medical knowledge is a good thing, and with just the slightest hesitation admit that it's acceptable to resort to using stolen bodies if that is the only way the research may continue, it's not as easy to excuse taking advantage of the poor and the desperate to do the actual stealing that we know is very dangerous.

The moment we know without a doubt we are in a proper grey area is when Mr Dalrymple laughs at Aziraphale's concern.

Objectively, the surgeon is right that it's more effective if he doesn't risk his own life in the graveyard and uses his time on actual research, teaching students and saving lives. But it's also clear he doesn't exactly see people like Elspeth as actual human beings and feels he has every right to use them. On the one hand, he is paying, on the other, he happily benefits from the cruel class system and is not even one bit remorseful about it. On the one hand, he takes risks too, on the other he has a chance of rewards Elspeth will not benefit from. It's not the poorest whose lives will get bettered by the progress of medicine, even though they're the ones who pay with their lives for that progress. And if Mr Dalrymple gets lucky and is knighted for his work (we know he wasn't in the end but it was a possibility), the poor still won't be pardoned for stealing for him. Nevertheless, he has no issue with that.

As I said, things get nuanced.

Layer 4: it's different when it's someone you know

The thing actually happens in your life

I think you'll all agree that the turning point of the minisode is when Elspeth decides to sell Wee Morag's still warm body. This is what finally leaves us speechless.

That's because up until now we've been approaching the issue intellectually. It's not that we didn't care about the characters, but we were allowed to keep a safe distance. The whole thing was like a problem to be solved - "Is body snatching right or wrong? Discuss in 500-1000 words" - and everything we've learned so far was data for this assignment. I believe that one of the reasons why this detachment came naturally was that there was a very thick line between people involved in body snatching and the bodies that were being snatched. The former were, well, people, obviously. The latter were inanimate objects.

It isn't until Wee Morag is to be sold that we are forced to see a person in a dead body. This is also when real emotions enter the equation.

This shift forces us to question our judgment for the first time. It was easy to justify Elspeth when she was selling a nameless corpse. But the fact that she decided to sell her closest companion - and most likely lover - shocks us. Something inside us strongly objects to how quickly she makes the decision.

And then there's the transaction, and it is also different when it's someone we know. The fact that we knew Wee Morag fully exposes Mr Dalrymple for the heartless jerk that he is. The way he treats Elspeth is the absolute worst and if you haven't realized he was a hypocrite earlier, you should be disillusioned by now.

But at least Elspeth is not a hypocrite, right? It may seem cold that she sold Wee Morag but it just proves she simply believed it's all right to sell a dead body, doesn't it?

Well, about that...

Layer 5: it's different when it's you

You are forced to face the thing happening to you

This layer is reached when Elspeth plans her suicide and asks Aziraphale and Crowley to bury her "somewhere where no ghouls will ever dig her back up again".

It turns out Elspeth McKinnon really was a filthy liar.

Not long ago she was insisting that body snatching doesn't hurt anyone who isn't already dead, and asking why she should let Wee Morag rot in the ground when she starves. But she wants to make sure it doesn't happen to her own body. The idea that someone might dig her up terrifies her and she calls people who do it ghouls. So why was digging up other people okay again? Why should she rot in the ground while other people suffer? There were other people living in the street where she and Wee Morag hid. Why not ask Aziraphale to give the money to them? Or just anybody in need? Why not ask to sell her body as well and use the earnings the same way?

Also, if you look at it from a certain perspective, Elspeth betrayed Wee Morag in the worst possible way. Wee Morag believed that if someone's body gets cut, that person's soul cannot enter Heaven. Yet Elspeth sold her to Mr Dalrymple, claiming that Wee Morag would have wanted her to have the means to survive. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps Wee Morag would have made that sacrifice. But then Elspeth decided to kill herself and use the money she got for Wee Morag's body for her own funeral.

But does it make Elspeth wicked? Certainly not. She's simply torn by grief. I seriously doubt she's been planning to commit suicide when she was taking Wee Morag to Mr Dalrymple. She might have genuinely tried to carry on but the reality of what happened caught up to her. Mr Dalrymple's cruel words certainly didn't help her cope with a personal tragedy. I even suspect one of the reasons she sold her friend was that she had no idea what else to do with a dead body.

Does this excuse her actions? Kind of, but not really.

Elspeth was a tragic character, not an innocent lamb with a heart of gold.

The point is - can any of us really judge her?

Which, coincidentally, is a question that the original Good Omens book toyed with quite a lot.

If you've reached this far, thank you for reading!

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #season 2 episode 3 #the ressurectionists #elspeth #wee morag #body snatching

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just-some-random-blogger · 7 months ago

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Edge Of Ever After | 3

Part 1 2 3 4

Sandor runs his fingers down my spine and sighs, "everything I ever touch goes to shit." He grabs my hip and pulls me close. I turn to him and nestle my face into his chest. He traps me in his arms, "but you... you turn my shit into gold."

Sandor Clegane x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, smut (slight dubcon, piv, degradation), mentions/depictions of violence, heckling/cat calling, sunshine x grump, remnants of forced marriage, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, miscommunication, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: hello everyone its been a while a;sjkhdfa;sklfhas;lkfhs it feels weird to post fics on tumblr again after my tumblr got sent to JAIL but its only fair that i continue posting this here <3 (i post this on my ao3 first then bulk post here).

When Sandor enters the Brown Wood meeting hall, he is greeted kindly by many of the people who wished to seek audience with his wife. He vaguely overhears a conversation about someone's babe, but it's cut short.

She turns to him, just as the townsfolk flock over to him like a moth drawn to flame. She smiles, then shoos them away, concluding the meeting for the day.

Sandor watches how she commands the room. One by one the people trickle out of the hall. He watches as she sighs and rubs her belly. He watches as she walks over to him and asks him what he needed.

His eyes remain on the hand she kept on her stomach, "I wanted to… …" gods, have they upset her.

She raises her brows, "to?"

"… are you alright?" He takes her other hand with grave reluctance, "are you hurting?"

Immediately, she drops the hand she had on her stomach and grows rigid. Sandor catches the discomfort she masks with a smile.

She shakes her head, "I'm well."

Sandor frowns. He gently rubs her skin, in case his palms were too rough, "… I wanted to show you… the strawberries."

Her eyes twinkle, "oh? Have they begun to bloom?"

Sandor is winded by how brightly her face seemed so suddenly. He motions with his head, "want to see for yourself?"

The two of them head to the garden.

"Heel, pups. Dammit," Sandor hisses when the three dogs run in front of them.

With one sound and a look, the pups turn to Lady Clegane and move out of the way. Sandor grumbles and nudges them out of the way as he passes, "fuck off."

"Sandor."

"They started it!"

When they get to the garden, the puppies run around the yard, no longer interested in their masters, but instead the birds that had made the unfortunate mistake of resting dormant on the Brown Wood grounds.

Sandor was a natural fast walker, considering his stature. He's always loathed slow walkers. And though he could never loathe his bride, in this moment, he particularly itched to show her the strawberries sooner, so he took her hand and pulled her towards the garden.

He didn't notice the squeak that fell from her lips when he did so. All he knew was that she had to slightly catch her breath when they stopped.

Sandor bends down and turns to her, glancing once at the pups to see what they were barking at. When he realizes the fuss was over birds, he turns back to her and speaks, "I have a strawberry now."

She peers down and knits her brows, "… where?"

Sandor raises a brow and looks at the branch, "here."

She walks closer but only spots it when the man points at the marble sized greenish fruit.

"Oh!"

Sandor turns back to her and nods, "there are many of them already. Do you want to see?"

Before she can reply, Sandor is already examining his garden, looking for something to show. He doesn't just walk off however. He reaches his hand out to her, rather absentmindedly, and mutters something about caterpillars.

He doesn't notice how she sucks in a breath before taking his hand. He doesn't notice how her lips curve when he tells her the things the gardeners taught him.

Sandor doesn't even notice how her eyes water when he tells her that they could trade tasks, she could do the gardening and he could talk to the townsfolk, so not to burdened by their worries; she scratched the tears away by the time he looked.

The only thing he notices is how her face fell.

Gods, he done it again.

"… what's wrong?"

Sandor's insides feel like their being pulverized when he catches the way her lips quiver. It's even worse when she smiles and says, "nothing."

A line forms between his brows.

"I am just… I'm am pleased to see you look so happy."

Sandor knits his brows.

She gives an airy laugh but tears stream her cheeks in spite of it.

Sandor stutters out her name, cautiously reaching out to her.

"No," she chuckles, bringing his hands to her cheeks, "I am not sad. Truly. I am happy. I am happy for you."

Discomfort doesn't leave him when she says this. He wipes her cheeks with his thumbs and nods, "aye. I am happy because of you."

She laughs through tears again.

He feels an overwhelming urge to kiss her.

And so he does.

He pulls her close and leans down. He kisses her like he means to drink in all the sorrow she was lying about. His one hand cradles the back of her head, the other brushes down the small of her back.

He ponders how she chuckles between kisses. Maybe, she wasn't lying. He pulls away and examines her face.

She chuckles again and rubs his chin.

She sighs and licks her lips, "I like it when you kiss me like that."

His brows quirk, "like w-"

She kisses him again. He is caught off-guard when she grabs him by the collar. Sandor can't help the groan that rumbles in his chest as she brings her arms over his shoulders. He snakes his own around her torso and lifts her up.

When she pulls away for a breath and tries to wrap her legs around him, he jostles her body up, allowing her the momentum to do so. He wastes no more time keeping their lips separate. He kisses her as he heads inside.

Unfortunately, Sandor had to see to get to their chambers, so he has to pull away. She makes him cuss when he kisses her neck. He nearly kicks the fucking door down on his way in. He does the same to the chamber door then slams it shut.

Sandor throws her on the bed and heaves like a rabid dog as he looks down at her body and her wanting face. He feels himself go hard with how she licks her lips as he undoes his top. He's never loathed clothes quite as much as he did this moment.

And then she stands up and tilts her pretty face up at him. He towers over her as she grab his hands and slowly pushes them away.

"Let me," she mutters, tugging his top out of his trousers.

He has to bend to help her get it off and it amuses her. She giggles, "you're so tall."

He stirs at the sound of her voice. He wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her mouth. He can taste the sweetness of her laughter on her lips.

He huffs when he pushes him away.

She rubs her nose against his, "lie down, puppy."

His eyes widen.

She bites her lips, feeling nervous over his shock. She manages to convince herself to power through and grabs his arms. She pushes him toward the bed, "lie down."

He doesn't have to hear it another time.

Sandor sits down on the side of the bed, then sequentially gets on his back. His feet stay put on the floor and he keeps his head up to watch her closely. He is visibly straining in his pants and the sight makes her face warm. She bites her lips harder and slowly lifts her skirt up.

"Fuck," Sandor hisses, heart pounding in his chest and his cock.

She removes her smallclothes then slowly crawls on top of him, stopping just before his pelvis.

"Fuuuuccckkk," he sighs, dropping his head. His hands dig into her hips as she undoes his trousers, "you're driving me mad, seven fucking gods, woman."

She hums and giggles softly, "that's right, Hound. I'm a woman."

"H- fuck-" whatever he meant to say gets crushed into a groan when she grabs his throbbing length then aligns herself on him.

He rips at her skirts when she sinks down and leans on to his chest. She rubs his body hair, "your woman."

"Fucking hell," he rubs her sides, "all fucking mine, that's right."

She whimpers when his hands squeeze her breasts. She clenches around him, making him throw his head back. She heaves, "you take such… good care of me… wanna do the same."

Sandor nearly passes when she begins to move. She starts out slow then eases her way into a quicker pace. He groans through his open mouth as she leans further, allowing her to move more surely.

"That's it, love. You feel so fucking good, fuck."

She is encouraged, "like this?"

He doesn't have the words to agree and merely hisses.

Eventually, Sandor can't just lie down. He slowly begins to buck into her and gods does he love the face she makes.

Like a man starved, he pushes himself up, sitting himself down, and kisses her neck. He wraps his arms around her and guides her movements. He brushes his lips down her neck and hisses, "that's it, love," he nips her neck, "so fucking good for me. My lovely wife."

Sandor loosens the ties at the back of her dress. He is frantic about it that he eventually gives up. He resigns to yanking enough of her dress down to expose her breasts. He promptly licks a stripe on her soft flesh and leaves marks wherever his mouth can reach.

She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs at the roots, "Sandor."

He hums and kisses her jaw, "my love."

They share a kiss until she has to break away and catch her breath from her rigorous movements.

He brings his hand under her skirts and squeezes her thighs, " 'm gonna come."

She squeals when she feels him rub her sensitive nub.

He hisses, "so fucking wet. Mmm, fuck, I'm gonna come inside your hot cunt. Then I'll pin you down and come some more."

"F-fuck, Sandor-"

He hisses as he clutches her neck. He doesn't put any pressure but he still has her whining, especially as he grazes her skin with his teeth. He says hotly, "I need you to be a good girl and make me come first."

She grabs his shoulders.

"Don't you want me to fill you up?"

She hums, "y-yes."

"Good girl."

She bounces on him harder.

"Fuck," he grabs her hips and helps her through it, "yes, yes, yes, just like that-"

She comes first, and she comes hard.

Sandor has to maneuver her roughly to chase after his high, and by the time he does, she's a shaking, loud mess, babbling only his name, cause that was all that's left in her head.

It takes a good while before he finally slows. He makes sure that he rides out the pleasure and fucks every drop of his seed into her softness. Then, they both go limp on the bed.

Sandor heaves. His wife does the same atop him. She can feel her cunt spasm. She can feel their hot spend leaking, but she's too tired to care.

Sandor rubs her back as he sighs, "you're incredible"

She is too dazed to say anything but, "Sandor."

Sandor wraps his arm around her waist, "I'm here, my love. I'm here."

She nuzzles her face into his neck.

He sighs in content.

"Sandor."

" 'M here."

"Is this enough for you?"

"…"

"… what?"

She lifts her head and sucks in a breath. She sighs deeply before replying, "sex… and strawberries?"

Sandor looks at her face. He is in awe of her beauty. What treachery it is for her to believe it isn't.

His silence make her eyes glass.

He grunts as he brings them back into a sitting position. He kisses her neck and rocks her back and forth, "honest to every god in the sky-- old, new, or otherwise, if I died this second… I would die the happiest I have ever been in my whole life."

Her heart throbs. When he looks at him, she knows he isn't lying. Still, she can't help to want to disagree.

And Sandor can see it. He sighs.

"I will tr-"

"Let's go to Volantis."

Her expression drops.

Sandor tucks her hair back, "this is more than enough for me… but it isn't for you. I want to be enough for you too."

She is unable to speak.

"I don't trust that fucking leech, Littlefinger, but if there is a chance…"

Her eyes blur with water.

"… at least we can say we tried."

The next second, she wraps her arms around him and shudders into his shoulder.

"Sandor."

A crack of thunder startles me, and the two horses beside us.

I watch as my husband grumbles something under his breath and hands me the lead on his horse. He steps out of the shade of the tree we were under gets drenched in the pouring rain water. Well, more drenched.

To be fair, I was still getting wet too, but it was not as bad from where I stood.

I adjust the hood covering my face to look at him. He looks around then back at me. He shouts over the rain, "we've no choice but to walk!"

I fix my hood and hand him his lead. I follow after him and we slowly trek through the wet ground, the reason why we were not on horseback. He says it was a horse ankle killer.

"You know!' I scream over the rain.

Sandor's clanking armor is still audible through the pouring rain.

"They say rain is a sign your journey will be great!"

"Yeah, and who told you that?!'

"My aunt!"

"Your aunt's a dumb bitch!"

I shoot daggers at the back of his head, "Sandor!"

"Tell her to shove mud up her arse!"

"Stoooop!" I whine.

Sandor and I continue through the sludge with our horses walking by our sides. I can vaguely hear him grumble under his breath and my worry for him, and the horses especially, begin to worsen.

"Puppy!" I call, slightly frantic, "maybe we should find some shade for a moment!"

Sandor does not look back at me, "it won't matter! The rain won't stop any time soon!"

I look at my poor steed and wipe her dripping face. I am overcome with guilt when she shakes her mane.

Without warning, a crack of lightning lights up the dark sky then a roll of thunder effectively spooks my horse, causing her to stand on her hind legs and her lead to slip out of my grip. Sandor's horse remains relatively calm, beyond the huffs she gives.

Sandor is quick to come to my aid, or rather my horse's. He pulls me back, so not to be trampled on, then manages to grab hold of her lead, shushing her until she was as calm as she could be in the middle of the storm.

I watch as his hood falls off. His face is immediately drenched with water. I frantically put his hood back on and my husband turns to me. He shakes his head disapprovingly then leads both of the horses himself. He screams louder than needed, "IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO TURN BACK, GIRL!"

I watch him as he continues to walk. I come up behind him.

"I bet your wench is worried sick over you! I bet her and your pups are at the door, praying for your return!"

"Stop calling Lucy names!"

Sandor looks over his shoulder only to look forward again and grumble.

I really don't mean to pick a fight, especially not in this weather, but I also really didn't want to go back, not when the whole of Brown Wood knew we would be leaving for Volantis to get rid of the curse. In hindsight, my integrity took the best of me in that moment. I could have just said I wanted to travel… but the again, I did not want them to think we would be leaving them to fend for themselves purely for my wanderlust.

I decide not to speak a word, but then I catch a light from afar.

"SANDOR!" I gasp and point, "LOOK!"

The Hound turns and sees the glow of a fire.

"I think it's an inn!" I exclaim, heading towards it at once.

I hurry over to the direction of the light and thank the gods when I find that I was, in fact, correct. A sizable inn was now only a few paces away from me. I turn around, seeing the struggling man and our horses slowly coming towards me.

I'm about to run back to him, but he barks out, "GO IN AND GET US A ROOM!"

I nod and rush towards the inn.

I push the door open and sigh when I feel warmth envelope me. I cautiously enter and hover by the door. The place is packed. It seems everyone here was caught in the storm, judging by how some of them were still dripping, and others had towels around their shoulders.

I look at the puddle that builds beneath my feet and feel guilty at the mess. The wooden floors were already muddy and I did not want to add to it.

I shrug off my cloak and wring it out of the open door, proceeding to do the same to my skirt and my hair, at least as much as I can.

"Oooh, lovie, oh dear!" a voice says. I turn and see an old woman approaching me, "don't bother with that and just come in."

I give a bashful smile as she reaches out to me, "what will you be needing? Some towels? Soup? I'll be happy to help, for a price, of course."

I nod, "both would be lovely. I'd like two sets of each and a room for me and my husband."

She nods, "of course. You arrived just in time. We have the one room left. I'll need you to pay upfront though, because our Golden Deer Inn is bustling, as you can see."

"Oh, of course, of course," I nod and prepare my coin purse. As I pay her, I remember, "oh. We also have two horses. I would like them to have a towel and some hay as well."

I pay her handsomely and her face brightens.

"As you command, my lady," she curtsies after taking my coin. "Go find yourself a seat, I'll bring you and your husband some supper in a jiffy. If you need anything else, or if anyone bothers you, holler for Trysha," she places a hand on her chest and nods.

I nod back, "thank you, kind Trysha."

"Of course."

Trysha walks off and so do I. I shudder as I look for a vacant table, rubbing my arms as I gaze upon the packed room. I quickly realize there is none and rub my hands. I decide to head for the fireplace and at least warm myself in the meantime.

A man seated by the warmth stares at me, suddenly uninterested in his meal. I ignore him and slowly move away.

"Oi, you, girl!"

I feel agitation build in my stomach.

"You! At the fireplace!"

I suck in a breath and ignore the call.

"OI!" the voice calls louder, "OI, YOU!"

When another voice screams through the bustle of room and I hear someone stand, my instincts takeover and I turn around. A man, stood by a table of six, is looking at me.

"So ye'rent deaf," he says, making the men at his table laugh and turn to me.

I gulp and simply stare at him. I roll my shoulders back, feigning confidence. I raise my brows in expectation.

The man with a cut on his chin rolls his jaw and chuckles, "ye wonna share a table with us? You look awfully sad and lonely o'r there. All wet and exhausted."

I feel sick as he motions to the men at his table, their eyes on me like I was nothing but meat, their next meal, "we could keep you warm."

The group cheers with laughter. One raises their pint and another whistles.

"I am not interested," I say firmly, "I am waiting for my husband."

They laugh and howl like wolves. One of the table speaks, "that's what they all say."

"I don't see your husband here."

"Come on, don't be shy."

"You dogs leave her alone!" Trysha hisses as she reenters. I immediately feel relieved at the sight of her. She walks up to their table holding two bowls, "I will not have you disrespect my customer when you lot haven't even paid for your grub!"

The man glares at her, as if testing if she'll back down.

Trysha narrows her eyes, "if you're not scared of me, which you should, you'll be scared of my sons."

And as if on cue, a large man walks in serving a plate of roast chicken to one table. The man with a thick chest and thick arms to match scowls when he spots his mother, "these blokes bothering you, ma?"

"And that's just one of them," Trysha mutters. She turns to the man, "I'm not sure yet, love."

"Ligh'en up, woman. We were only playin'," the stood man sits down, "isn't that right, sweet'eart?"

Trysha, her son, and the men at the table turn to me.

I cannot give them the satisfaction. I grip my chest and shake my head, "you brutes have a sick sense of humor and the gods will soon punish you for it."

Trysha's son squares up, "you botherin' the lady?"

"We was jus' joking!" another says, "she's a stuck up bitch."

Suddenly, that man is grabbed by the collar. Trysha's son pulls him to his feet and he begins to choke, "now, I've had a long day. It would be my joy to break all of your stupid faces, but then I'd have to mop off blood on the floor."

Trysha steps back as the rest of the table stands.

"Go on," her son says, pulling out a knife, pressing it to the man's neck, "apologize to the woman and I'll let you pay for your meals once you've finished."

"You mad fucker!" one of the six scream.

The man being held hostage begins to wince when the blade on his neck draws blood. Immediately he begins to apologize, "I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY!"

The large man releases him and demands they pay up and leave.

They collectively reach for their coin and leave some on the table before leaving.

Trysha turns to me and smiles, "your table's ready."

I watch as the men exit and slowly come towards them. I watch as her son clears the table. He steals a glance at me and mutters, "sorry about those fucks."

I offer him a smile, "you need not apologize for their uncouth nature."

I place a hand on his shoulder as he takes all the plates and pints. He stills as I ask, "may I ask for your name?"

He looks at me and clears his throat. He straightens up and mutters, "Riley."

Trysha places the bowl on the table and then wipes off the surface.

"Thank you, Riley," I smile.

Riley clears his throat and nods. He then walks off.

"Right," Trysha says, "I'll go get you your towels."

"Thank you, Trysha."

I sit down and keep my eyes on the front door. I begin to sip of my soup, surprised by how flavorful it was and relieved by how it warmed me up.

I perk when the front door opens but deflate when I see a group of men enter.

Trysha comes out with towels, the converses with those said man, telling them the inn was fully booked, but they were welcome to stay for a meal if they liked. The men talk to themselves and Trysha walks over, handing me the towels.

I thank her for it and she smiles, "we have some pie and mead, if you'd like."

I wipe my face the wrap myself with the towel. I nod, "yes, I would. Only one pint of mead, however. If you have any more stew," I pull out some coin, "I'd like a bowl as well."

Trysha smiles and nods, "I'll have Riley bring you some roast pork too."

As Trysha walks off, I continue slurping my soup. When I turn back to the front door, my sight is obscured. The group of men who entered were now at my table. My heart leaps into my mouth.

"Pardon my companions and I. We have travelled far and have grown weary. Do you mind if we share a table with you? None else are currently available."

I look at the four men and feel uncomfortable under their scrutiny. Though they appeared more civilized then the ones before, I was still uneasy.

I manage a smile and motion to the bowl of soup across me, "I'm waiting for my husband."

The man looks at the other bowl, "ah. … But otherwise, you would let us sit?"

His adamance makes my stomach churn. I take a breath and shake my head, "I do not know you, ser. I do not like to dine with strangers."

The man seems taken off-guard by my response, judging by the way he chuckles dryly. He turns to his friends, who now carry sour expressions on their faces. The man seems emboldened by this and releases anger, "it is not as though you own the seat you are on. Why won't you let us sit?"

I turn uncomfortably to my soup then back at him. I muster up the resolve to speak, "I was ushered personally to this table by the innkeeper. What I do here is my business."

The man stares at me. I can see how the comment seeps under his skin.

"Squirrel?" a loud voice calls out.

My heart races and I gasp under my breath, "Sandor." Against myself, my eyes begin to water.

One of the men look over his shoulder, and it is enough for me to catch sight of my husband, face dripping with rain water and worry. Thank the gods he spots me as well.

His face immediately shifts and he marches over to me. Without another thought, he grabs two of the four men and yanks them away from me.

I instinctively stand but could do nothing but watch as the Hound drags the two bodies out of the inn with him. The other two follow after, unsheathing their swords.

The whole place goes silent as screams sound off from outside.

I gulp.

Riley walks in. He sees me standing and presses his lips together. He places the tray of food on my table and slowly asks, "everything alright?"

I turn to him an debate if I should tell him. I don't.

I flinch when the Hound enters the next moment. Riley looks back and Sandor sheathes his sword. My husband stops when he sees the man beside me.

"Did you kill them?" I mutter frantically.

Riley turns to me and Sandor speaks, "who's he?"

"He's the innkeepers boy. He brought the food. Did you kill them?"

Sandor eyes Riley as he slowly walks over to me. Riley eyes him back and moves out of his way. The two of them stare at each other and I have to pull Riley away from him.

"Stop it!" I hiss, "Riley's no trouble ," I lightly nudge the said man away, "you're merely hungry."

The Hound glares as Riley hesitantly walks off. He looks at me one last time and finally goes back whence he came after I give him a nod of encouragement.

Sandor looks down at me as I take the other towel and wipe his face.

He grunts, placing his hand on my arms, keeping my towel on me, "I leave you for a few minutes and there's another man swarming you."

He pushes my arm down. His brows knit as he examines my face. He looks irritated, but more than this, he looks worried, guilty even.

I sigh and shake my head, "Riley saved me from a different group of men."

Only fury is left on his face, "what different group of men?!"

I sigh once more and sit down, pulling him down with me. He sits beside me and I recount what happened. His face is hard and his body rigid after he hears it.

"He should have slit their throats when he had the chance," the Hound spits on the floor to his side, "fucking craven."

"Sandor…"

He grabs the pint of mead, some of the liquid splatters on his hand and the table. He downs it in one go. His armour clanks as he sets the cup down with a bang.

I knit my brows and grab his arm, "I'm glad he didn't kill them."

He looks livid as he stares at me.

"Please tell me you didn't kill those men."

He chuckles dryly. He yanks his arm out of my grip, causing me to yelp when his armour cuts me.

I turned to my hands, thankfully finding no blood, and he immediately freezes. The next moment, he is overcome with guilt. He clenches his jaw and releases a deep breath. He takes my hands, examining it. Sandor shakes his head, "I didn't slaughter the fuckers, no. Just broke some bones they didn't need."

"Sandor…"

He shakes his head quicker. He releases my hands, "you're too kind for your own good, far too kind."

"I'm kind for the both of us, my love."

Sandor stares at me upon hearing this. I wipe his face with the towel again.

"Men are dogs… you know this, sweet squirrel."

I leave the towel on his shoulders and shrug, "I happen to like dogs more than men."

Sandor says nothing.

I brush his beard with my thumbs, "my puppy."

He sighs and takes my wrists. He pulls my hands away and shakes his head, "I'm not a puppy."

"No, you're my puppy."

He rolls his eyes, "eat. We need to get changed quickly."

I press my lips into a frown, "okay, puppy."

"Enough," he says. He begins to feast on the roast pork.

I raise my brows at how quickly Sandor was eating. I stare at him as he chomps through half a chicken as though it was a sweetie. He washes it down with some mead and muffles through a mouthful, "tastes fuckin' shite."

He grabs a spoonful of stew and stuffs it in his mouth.

"Sandor," I call through furrowed brows, ceasing to eat.

He seems not to hear me with how violently he was chewing.

"Sandor," I speak louder, placing a hand on his arm.

His cheeks are stuffed as he turns to me. His mouth is slightly open, as he stopped mid-chew.

I giggle and sigh, "you don't have to eat so quickly. You've stuffed your cheeks like a squirrel."

"Hmp," he continues to chew and muffles out, "you think you're so clever with that?"

I squint as I watch him swallow so much in one go. He takes another bite of meat.

"Beating up shitheads cost two chickens at least. Why do you think I'm always hungry?"

The notion sounds ridiculous, and yet I knew better than to contest it. In fact, I feel somehow guilty at the thought. I cannot help the chuckle that leaves lips though. I turn to my plate and shake my head, "forgive me. It's not funny."

"Quit it and eat then," he pushes my plate towards me.

He continues to inhale his food and I continue to watch with both parts amusement and concern. I consciously chew slower consequently. That is, until, Riley walks up to our table.

Sandor immediately tenses we he does.

"Are the burly brown horses yours?" Riley asks.

"Why d'ya ask?" the Hound retorts without missing a beat.

"My brother had to move them to another stable. They were too big."

Sandor takes in a breath before responding, "fine… anything else?"

"…"

"Ehm, my mum told me to tell you that she prepared hot water in the tub in your room."

I smile, "oh, thank you. Please tell Trysha I am grateful for it."

"She probably meant for me to to tell you so that you'd go before it's cold."

"Oh," I look at my plate, "alright, we'll finish up quickly."

"If you like, you could bring it up," Riley offers.

"Oh, we can? That would be splendid," I immediately stand and gather my plate. Sandor stands and grabs the satchels of our stuff from under the table.

"I can help," says Riley, picking up the rest of the plates.

We head up to the second floor and Riley leads us to our room. It's a modest psace with minimal furniture. The tub is in the corner, the water in it steaming. The bed was on the other corner, and beside it was a table with two chairs.

Riley places the plates on the table, so does Sandor, then myself.

"If you need anything, just come down and look for someone to help you," Riley says to me.

I smile and nod, "thank you. We will."

With that, he walks out and I close the door behind him.

"Don't smile at him," says Sandor, coming up behind me to lock the door. I watch him as he walks back the table, sits, and continues to eat.

"Why not?"

"Because he'll fall in love with you."

I snort at the ridiculous notion and walk over to him. I place a hand on his shoulder then turn around. I remove the towel around my shoulders and undo the ties in my hair, "help me, please."

Sandor knowingly undoes my dress.

"I don't think that's how it works."

"…"

"Falling in love, I mean."

Sandor pulls the wet dress off me and grabs me by the hips. He spins me around and looks up at me, "then you've learned nothing, little girl."

I press my lips tightly together as I am rid of my drenched clothing. My husband pulls the sopping dress down to my feet and I step out of it, kicking it aside.

Sandor eyes my body. The shift I still on me was effectively stuck on me with how wet it was. I watch him as he looks at me. My breathing gets heavier as I notice him clench a hand when he leans back on his chair.

I am reminded of my cold I actually was when a shiver runs down my spine and my skin breaks out with gooseflesh. I continue to comb out my hair with my fingers, but do so quicker. I huff in realization, "I won't be able to do my hair as good without Lucy."

The Hound lifts his gaze up and drags his chair closer. He parts his legs and positions me between them. He slowly reaches for the hem of my shift, pushing it up.

My breath hitches.

"Mmm, we should go back home," he mumbles, hand coming in contact with my thigh.

We both hiss at the feel; I, at his heat, him, at my chill. Sandor hisses, "gods, you're freezing."

My toes curl when he rubs my flesh. I lean one hand on his arm and huff, "w-well, I'm wet."

He chuckles, hands hiking up to my waist. I squeak when he drags my smallclothes down and looks up at me, "are you?"

I feel my face burn at his question and find myself pushing him away. I pull my pants up and point a finger, "so are you!"

I hear him laugh as I rush towards the tub. He sighs, "what's gotten into you, pretty squirrel? Don't like it when I'm filthy?"

I bunch my shift up then snap as I turn over my shoulder, "are you getting in, or--"

The sound of a chair skidding fills the room. I hear footsteps, but before I feel him behind me, he stops.

"Actually… I'm a lot grimier than you. You should bathe first."

I turn around and look up at Sandor. He seems to be breathing quickly. I lick my lips and remove my clothes. I feel his stare as he watches me get into the tub. The warmth is so welcomed. I sigh in relief as I scrub myself with my palms.

Sandor walks over and kneels at the side of the tub. His eyes are glued on my legs.

My heart races and I tut him, "no, husband."

He turns to me, "what?"

"We can't do anything tonight."

He stiffens and scowls. Slowly, he becomes dejected, "… is it because I broke those fuckers' bones?"

I whimper at the thought, "gods, Sandor, how many bones did you break?"

"…"

"… … … not letting me touch you won't fix them…"

I laugh begrudgingly and move towards him, "it's not that," I cup his cheeks, "though I do not encourage you to break bones."

He scowls again, "they're lucky I maimed them and not hung them by their entrails."

"Sandor," I whimper, shaking my head.

He pouts, about as much as Hound could.

I raise my brows.

He sighs, "… forgive me."

I frown, "all is well," I rub his cheeks, "I just don't think it would be proper for us to couple at an inn. That's all."

He is dumbfounded. He stares at me, as if trying to assure whether or not I was joking.

I was not, obviously.

"Fuck," he sighs, "I've forgotten you're a lady. A proper lady."

I furrow my brows at that and continue to wash myself, "one if us has to be."

He chuckles leans on the side of the tub. He watches me as I clean my chest. I feel conscious as I rub my breasts.

"I can help."

"No. You are filthy."

"Rude."

By the time I finish, I ask him to get me a towel and he does. He does not hand it to me however, instead, he opens it up and instructs me to stand. And so I do. I fidget a bit under his hot gaze, especially with how unabashed his eyes rake me over. He wraps me in the towel and plucks me out of the tub.

I squeal as he walks over to the bed. He drops me on the cushion.

"Sandor! I'm wet!" I scold as I quickly crawl off the bed.

He removes his shirt and walks back to the tub, "so you keep telling me."

I glare at him as I wipe myself down. I watch as he strips, turning away when I see his bum. I clear my throat to mask the tingle on my cheeks, as well as my giggle. I few moments later, I hurriedly run off towards our bags to get dressed.

"Don't you dare put on a lick of clothing," Sandor says as he scrubs himself down.

"Sandor," I whine, "I am serious. We cannot-"

The Hound emerges front he tub, dripping wet as he walks towards me. He yanks the towel off me and wipes himself down. I instinctively wrap my arms around myself.

"On the bed," he nods as he wipes his face and chest.

"… d-did you even clean yourself?"

"Clean enough to get dirty with your come, lover."

"Sandor."

He chucks the towel somewhere without looking and forces me back by walking closer. I press my hands on his chest to try and stop him. He hisses and stops, but not for the reason I think.

"You're fucking ice, girl," he grabs my wrists. He rubs my pulse before kissing it. He nods towards the bed, "we have to fix that. On the bed."

"But-"

"Or I'll put your smart mouth to good use."

My heart races as I walk backwards 'til my calves hit the bed. I slowly sit down and scoot up to the middle of the mattress, circling myself into a ball in an attempt to cover myself.

The Hound chuckles as he stalks over, "such coyness from my bride."

My stomach flips when he places a hand on my knee.

"Open up," he mutters, "lest you forget I've fucked you like a bitch in heat before."

I gasp out his name.

He chuckles and says my name, as if to taunt me.

I can hear my pulse in my head. I can also feel it sharply between my thighs.

"I've tainted your innocence far too much for you to act shocked," he says under his breath. "Now, on your knees."

I gulp. I feel my breathing shorten as Sandor takes his hand off me, only to grab his hardening length. I make a sound as I catch him stroking himself, pressing his thumb on his tip. I slowly shift on my knees. I prop myself on my arms and bite my lip in both agitation and expectation.

Sandor doesn't waste any time in climbing behind me. I shudder when he grabs both sides of my arse and slowly squeezes them.

I whimper when he releases me with a laugh. I whimper louder when I feel his fingers touch my center. My body tingles when he rubs my slick folds.

"Well, well, well, you are wet."

"Sandor."

"D'ya like being called a bitch?"

I make a visceral sound when he fidgets with my clit.

"Mmm, my bitch?"

My arms begin to give out as his two fingers pump shallowly into me. I groan into the sheets and arch my back. My hips involuntarily buck against him.

He hisses and grabs my hair. He clamps on my roots and tugs slightly, "that's a question I need an answer to."

I whine and push myself up again after he releases my hair and ends his prodding. I catch my breath and press my forehead on the mattress. I breathlessly reply, "I-I… yes."

Sandor moans in satisfaction and grabs my hips.

We both let out strangled groans as he mounts me. He slowly thrusts and kneads the flesh on my sides, "good girl."

His words ignite a spark in my belly. My toes curl. I clench around him. He hisses.

He moans as he quickens his pace. He deeply plunges into me one, only to stop himself and barely move at all. He releases as shaky breath, "d-does my good girl need to be bred like a bitch?"

My voice gets louder when each rut of his hips get rougher. I lean down and release my lewd noises into the sheets.

"No," my husband growls, grabbing me by the hair again, "I need to hear you. I need all of them to hear how I take my wife."

With his reminder, that we were fucking in an inn, I tense and try to muffle my sounds, "n-no- f-fuck, Sandor-" I let out a sharp cry when he rubs my clit.

He releases my hair and grabs my hip, "ooooh," he coos, "think you have a choice, do ya?"

Against myself, I make noises that are louder than I'd like. I still muffle them as much as I could but it becomes hopeless as I grow breathless.

Sandor heaves like a bull plowing through dirt. He cusses, louder and faster as he chases his rising high. The sound of his thrusts fill my ears. The wet slaps are so powerful and lewd I can only hope it was still raining outside. I feel my thighs begin to falter as the promise of hot release coils in my belly.

I choke on my spit when I come. My throat is hoarse by the time I do. I am completely limp as Sandor uses me to pleasure himself. My belly shivers. My thighs barely do any work of keeping me up. He slaps his hips into me roughly, desperate and erratic. He finally comes to a halt after a guttural grunt.

I feel my cunt flutter and clench on his cock. I feel warmth cascade in my belly. I squeak when he rubs my clit. He laughs, as if wanting that reaction.

I whine as he slowly pulls away.

"Fuck," he hisses. His hands are the only things keeping my body hoisted up.

I shiver as I feel his come drip out of my swollen cunt. I shakily whine.

"Oh, fuck," he says again, mind wild at the sight of his come leaking out.

I wince loudly when he plunges his fingers into my whole. I twitch, eyes watering at the oversensitivity, "S-San-"

"As beautiful as your cunny looks leaking with my come," he hums.

I whimper and trembles as he pumps in and out of me a few times.

"I'd rather knock you up now, so we don't have to fucking go to Volantis."

"Sandor."

"Mmm? You need to lie down?"

I slowly look to him, but squeak instead when he turns me over. He pulls his fingers out of me as to get me on my back, and I immediately feel come gush out.

He checks my thighs and clicks his tongue disapprovingly, pushing his fingers back in. He then crawls up to my side and kisses my shoulder. He grabs one of the pillows and tucks it by my bum. He slowly pulls out and rubs my belly, "that should do."

I grab his hand just as he's about to moves away. He freezes, looking at me in expectation.

My eyes begin to water at a memory of a similar scene, "the last time you did this, you left me alone…"

Sandor is struck with the realization, "… oh…"

I scratch my eyes to mask the twinge of the memory.

"I just want to clean you up, my lady."

I release his hand. A pit of dread forms in my stomach but I manage to nod, "alright."

Sandor stands and does just that. He wipes me down with a towel and even helps me get dressed into my nightgown. He bashfully asks me if he can finish his meal and by then, my dread is gone. I chuckle softly and, allowing him to do as he pleases.

Still undressed, he seats himself on the table.

"Wait, shouldn't you wash-"

Sandor eats his chicken with little care for what I have to say.

"San-"

"I love pussy flavored chicken."

120 notes · View notes

writingsfromhome · 10 months ago

Text

Dos and Don’ts II

A/N: the story kinda got away from me so it’s getting a part 3. Would love to know what you think of the characters/choices!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

It’s a beautiful morning; the late summer heat is right around the hour but for now the morning clouds keeps the city cool. I’m sat at Harry’s dinner table with stacks of paper around me, sorting out paperwork whilst on hold with a private venue he was playing in the fall to sort out some details his manager asked me for.

I had become good at my job, multitasking like a pro and not having to leave the room to make a call. After all, it had been nearly half a year of this.

And yet, my relationship with Harry Styles had stayed the same. Sometimes it felt like it got worse.

My other relationships, in the rest of my life, had definitely gotten worse.

“Riley just called said he’s sent over some prints I bought for the bedroom,” Harry pops into the room. “Can you call someone to put them up?”

“Yeah, where do you want them?” I get up so he can show me.

“Somewhere that looks good in there,” he waves his hand. “It’s pictures of me.”

“Of course they are,” I know how big-headed he could be. “Above the bed?”

“Hm,” he heads off to the bedroom so I follow. He examines each wall of his bedroom which was pretty neutral and relaxing to be in. “Why not? Yeah. Above the bed’s good.”

“Great.” With that I head back to my makeshift office.

I wondered why Riley didn’t message me directly about the prints considering we avoided getting Harry involved in these minor decisions.

Maybe I’d ask him tonight. We were having drinks—we tried a bunch of times to get together seeing we were “coworkers” but our timing rarely worked out. Since Gray was out of town the next two nights I’d reached out to Riley.

Evening comes quicker while I’m still buried behind paper. I start tidying up after 7.

“Going home?” Harry asks. He’d been out most of the day at voice lessons.

“Yes, your dinner’s in the oven and Roy said he left cocktails in the fridge.”

“Lovely Roy,” Harry rubs his hands together. “He makes the best drinks.”

I smile and go back to work.

“There’s enough for two,” he calls with his head in the fridge. “You want to join?”

Of course the one night Harry asks me to join him personally—a time I could use to get on his good side, I’m going out.

“I’m actually heading out for drinks myself.” He’s already placed the jug on the marble countertop.

“Oh.” He freezes awkwardly. “With your fiancé?”

“No,” for some reason I feel flustered at his mention of Gray. “With Riley actually. We’ve been meaning to get together for drinks since…I started. Wow. That’s been a long time.”

“Riley,” Harry purses his lips. “Does your fiancé know?”

“It’s a friendly drink,” I feel my temper flare. “I don’t need to report to my fiance.”

“If my fiancé was going out to drinks with a man with loose hands, I’d worry.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re not engaged,” I mouth off before I can stop myself. He raises a brow and the single movement has me backpedaling. I was such a coward. “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Y/n you get away with a lot but I’d remember who’s working for who.”

I clench my teeth. Just seconds ago he was inviting me for a drink and now I’ve dug myself a grave. I couldn’t be stopped.

I grab my bag and head to the elevator.

“Don’t turn your back on him once he’s got a few drinks in.” Harry calls out.

Asshole, I think.

***

God, Riley talked a lot. He’s got 3 drinks to my 1.5 and really got the gift of the gab.

That is until he starts asking me about Harry.

“Do you find him hot? He’s kind of a lady’s man yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” I laugh. “Got ‘em all lined up.”

“And you?” He asks casually. “Has he got you yet?”

“Riley! I’m engaged,” I flash my ring.

“Didn’t stop the last girl,” he mutters.

“What? What’s that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” I poke him, knowing he wanted to talk about it anyway.

“Just that the last PA he had for…less than a year? She had a boyfriend and everything but one time I pop in early to set up for this masseuse right—I’m there and I hear someone in the bedroom with him. No big deal whatever. Then Harry comes out and he’s fuming just seeing me. Tells me to get out and leave the rest, that I should have called him. All this shite. And then I see her jacket, she wore a very specific jacket, and her shoes off the way. He was angry cuz I caught them.”

“Woah,” I think about the way Harry treats me. “Well I don’t have to worry about that. He can be a right dick with me.”

“He can come off that way. Until you get to know him. Well. He used to be nicer. It’s changed a bit since I started.”

“How long?” I ask, curious.

“Uhh I was his PA for a year and now this for one and a half?”

“Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know. Too long. Well, big things are coming for me I can feel it. How about you? Are you staying long? I hear the way he talks to you, I don’t know how you put up with it.”

I thought he talked to all his PAs that way. Maybe he was different when Riley was his. Of maybe it was that Riley was a guy. Maybe the fame got to his head. “Uhm. I want to stick around for at least a year. What do you mean the way he talks to me?”

“He’s rude.” Riley runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you find him rude? You’re surprisingly…graceful, but he’s always bossing you around and then ignoring you.”

I feel a pit in my stomach. So I wasn’t imagining it. “I thought that’s just the way he is.”

“No, you should have met him a couple years ago. A really cool guy. He taught me a lot.” Riley suddenly sobers as he looks off into the distance. “I grew a lot with him. I’m thankful for that y’know?”

“Right,” I nod. “Yeah. I dunno. I’m hoping to learn a lot here.”

“Well if you want to stay connected, keep my number. When you wanna jump ship just let me know.”

I’m surprised Riley is talking so openly about helping me leave. I would have thought he was a Harry die-hard.

“Yeah. Hey are you the one that’s created all those notes on the phone? They’ve been a life saver.”

“Notes? Oh the lists. I made them when I was his PA. I don’t know if the last girl updated any…”

I think of the snarky additions. She definitely did.

“Well I owe you my first-born because without them I’m pretty sure I would have been fired.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” he smirks.

“Uh yeah, I forgot to bring his bloody tablet to the studio the first day. He was so mad.”

“He wouldn’t fire you y/n,” he cocks his head to the side. “Not with the way I see it.”

“Huh?” I ask but Riley’s turned to the bar to ask for another drink.

I excuse myself and freshen up, checking my phone for messages. Gray’s sent me a picture of his hotel view and I send him a quick text back. I wish he was here. Maybe it was time I got home, I was starting to feel tired.

“I’m thinking of heading home,” I tell Riley when I get back.

“Now?” He looks at his watch. “Night’s still young y/l/n.”

“I’ve been up since 6 I’m dead.”

“Fine, I’ll walk you outside.” Riley knocks back half his drink and stands, swaying slightly. I put my hand out to steady him and he smiles down at me.

The pub is crowded as we walk past people, shoulders brushing against strangers. It takes me a second to feel the hand on my back sliding down to my ass.

I whip around to chew out whichever stranger thought he could get a grope but the only person behind me is Riley with a cocky smile.

“You alright? Let’s keep going.”

I can hear the blood pumping in my ears and I stumble back, Harry’s words echoing in my ear.

“I’m alright.” I try to put distance between us. “I’ll walk myself out you should look after your drink.”

“Nah c’mon,” he reaches for me again and I inch back.

“I said I’m okay,” I know my voice comes out harsh due to the fear coursing through my body. But I don’t care.

“Bloody hell alright then,” Riley shrugs. “Night y/n.”

I wait for him to turn and leave before I get out of there. The night air cools down the flush in my cheeks but I can’t get my heart to stop racing. Harry was right and for some reason it makes me angry at him. I’m furious.

All these men just made me feel small and confused all the time. Is that what I had to accept working in this industry? Was I just naïve for thinking things could be decent? That people could be decent?

I wish more than ever that Grayson was here. I imagine him on his own in another city. Then I imagine him alone, at home, while I’m working all the time. It felt like we were on a piece of ice drifting through the ocean and the middle was cracking leaving us to drift alone. My heart feels like it’s cracking with it.

I call Gray on the ride home just to see his face. I listen to him talk about his day and slowly my grip on the anger loosens. Slowly with his voice in my ear, I come back down to earth.

***

It’s a couple weeks after the Riley incident. I’d come into work the next day and managed to ignore Harry for most of it just like he did me.

Today I’m back at the dining table waiting for Harry’s publicist to call me to take me through what was left for this upcoming weekend for a small awards show Harry had been nominated in that was happening Sunday. Riley would be on the call too, the first time I’d seen him since that night. I just hoped my pokerface was good enough to move on past any awkwardness.

“Let me get your thoughts on this,” Harry sits down across from me with a yoghurt. He’d just come from the gym and seeing him shirtless now was just another Thursday afternoon.

He’d taken to using me as a soundboard lately which started out interesting and got old quickly. He loved to hear himself talk, I’ve concluded. And I was forced to listen. And he always lied. He never wanted my thoughts on anything, just an ego stroke.

And just like usual he launches into a song he’s working on and something about string progression and inversion. I nod along until my phone rings and I pick it up instantly.

Graham and I speak about the details of event and I reassure him everything would run smoothly. When I’m done Harry’s nearly done the smoothie he grabbed while I was on the phone.

“Austria tomorrow, everything’s prepped?”

“Yep, for you.”

“Not for you?”

“I have the rest of the week off?” I remind him just like I’d been doing for the last two weeks. So this wouldn’t happen.

“You do? I thought that was next week. What am I gonna do without you there it’s 4 days.”

“I reckon you’ll survive,” I say with a light tone but I’ve learned the art of backhanded jokes. It felt like the only way to get some of my aggression out. “Plus Riley’s joining you Saturday afternoon.”

“So I’ll be alone on Friday?”

I look up from my laptop, “Are you ever really alone?”

“I guess I’ll just have to invite one of my girls to keep me company,” he continues watching me. “Keep my bed warm.”

“If you’d like,” I hated when he tried to make me uncomfortable. “Let me know which one and I can cut her a ticket.”

He clenches his jaw and levels me with an irritated look. “I’m sure Vienna has many beautiful people to choose from.”

Ignore ignore ignore. I go back to my screen and leave him on heard.

***

“It’s been too long,” Gray clinks his glass with mine. It’s Friday night and we’re having an early anniversary celebration.

This whole weekend I promised Gray I would be his from Friday though Sunday even though our actual anniversary was on Monday.

Our relationship that was once so strong, supportive, and loving had started treading rocky grounds. I felt jostled and very close to being kicked right off the ride altogether.

I look at my fiancé’s face, his dark features and serious looks made him look intimidating but a flicker of his smile and you felt like you were on the ins with him about something. I had missed him.

The last time we did anything together was at the beginning of summer. I had a long weekend off and he’d driven us to lake district, soaking in the sun and hiking along the peaks. We’d had a serious conversation about our relationship but a lot of it had felt like me apologizing and him accusing.

“You look radiant,” Gray reaches for my hand. “How are you?”

I didn’t think he wanted the real answer. I hold back a sigh and replace it with a smile, “Alright. Better now to be with you.”

He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach flutters. “Me too. I’m excited for this weekend.”

“Let’s see we’re seeing friends tomorrow for brunch, then doing old school movies and dinner in the evening.”

“That was one of our first dates don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s a classic I’m excited. It’s been so long since I saw a movie with you.”

With Harry, I’d seen a few. I was always told to tag along on premieres Riley passed on.

“And Sunday we’re just being lazy bed bugs.”

“Mmm that sounds amazing.” I could use a day in bed. A week in bed would be even better.

The night is perfect and romantic and it soothes the heartache I’d been carrying, the guilt that I was killing my relationship. Gray is attentive and we laugh like we always did.

I don’t mention work. It makes me anxious knowing I had to put the biggest part of my life on mute in order to keep the good vibes going with Gray.

Saturday brunch brings me back to life. I’d missed our friends and catching up on their lives, all the chatter and the laughter. Gray keeps reaching for me at the table and I feel like I belong.

“So how’s the tyrant?” My friends had started calling Harry that since he always kept me from most of our social outings.

“The usual,” I try to keep it short for Gray’s sake.

“Grayson was complaining that you spend more time with him than your actual fiancé!”

“Is that so?” I turn to Gray with a teasing expression but he’s serious.

“I wouldn’t have helped her with the job if I knew,” Gray jokes when I nudge him. The table laughs but I fake it, knowing the kernel of truth in it.

“He can’t be all that bad?” Another friend asks.

“Nope. Pretty consistently bad,” I tell them. “I’m just telling myself it’s vital experience. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“When she sleeps at all,” Gray slips in another passive joke and I try to distance myself from it.

“Just wait, in a couple years I’ll be living my best life.” I raise my glass.

“To y/n’s best life,” the table cheers.

On the walk home from brunch Gray and I swing hands in between us. I want to bring up his passive comments but it feels stuck in my throat. His hand feels like lead in mine.

“Gray-“

“I’m sorry. I got a bit salty at brunch,” Gray admits. I nearly deflate completely with the sigh that comes out of me.

“That’s okay,” I kiss his cheek. His hand feels like an extension of mine again. “I know there’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, I know my job doesn’t make you happy. But I appreciate that you still support me and keep the peace even when I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”

“Hey,” Gray stops and tugs me to him. “I love you. Nothing changes that.”

“I love you too,” he kisses me with the same passion he did last night, our first intimate night after a couple months. With the urgency in his kiss I can tell it wouldn’t be another couple until the next.

***

We get back in around 8 and I happily kick off the dress and boots I wore to dinner to snuggle in my pjs. I watch Gray remove his contacts as I comb through my hair.

“I still can’t believe that ending,” Gray says to me in the mirror.

“Same, I feel like everyone’s kept it so hush I didn’t even know there was going to be a plot twist!”

“I kind of saw it coming-“

“You did not!” I flick Gray. “Why do guys love to brag about seeing a movie ending coming.”

“It’s our roman empire,” he grins.

“You’re using that in the wrong context,” I roll my eyes. “Josie would be so disappointed. Oh I didn’t even turn my phone back on after the movie, Josie had texted me something.”

“Just leave it,” Gray calls out as I go back into the room to get my purse. “Let’s keep our phones off, stay unplugged tonight.”

“Too late,” I grin as my phone powers on already.

I know Gray stayed nervous about any call I got during our down time because he always thought it was Harry. To be honest I was surprised he hadn’t bothered me more than asking for a password yesterday.

As my services connect my phone vibrates with a dozen oncoming messages.

“Y/n,” I hear Grayson say in warning but my eyes stay glued to the screen that flicker with notifications.

I look up once they settle, my eyes are as wide as saucers and Gray’s watch me through the mirror, heavy and resigned.

“Please, ignore it,” Gray pleads just once.

“I just…I need to know what it’s about.” I plead back.

“It’s going to spiral,” he warns. “You can’t just look y/n you’re gonna get involved.”

“What if it’s an emergency? He wouldn’t message like this unless it’s an emergency!”

“Like the documents on Josie’s birthday? Or the hospital appointment that one bank holiday? Or his empty fridge on-“

“I get it. But Gray I have 14 notifications. And it’s from his manager too it’s gotta be an-“

“You have a life y/n!” Gray turns around quick like a pistol whip, I stumble back into the doorframe. “He has other people in his life other than you they can figure it out! Why do you keep putting your job, this man, before me? Before us?!”

“I’m not trying to! I’m not!” I stutter.

“What’s the worst case scenario huh? He tries you, and you don’t answer because you’re off. And he’ll find someone else to help—those type always have someone else.”

“You don’t get it-“

“I get it.” Gray lowers his volume. He looks around for his glasses and slides them on. “I get it clearly. You’re just scared you’re replaceable to Harry Styles.”

His words stun me a little. All I can do is watch as he puts on jeans and grabs his phone.

“Do you ever wonder who else in your life’s replaceable?” Gray says before he slams our door shut.

I sink back and my mind races with everything Grayson just said. I was awful, he must feel even more awful and I-

My phone vibrates. Jeff.

“H-hi?” I answer.

“What the fuck y/n! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last 2 hours-“

“My phone was off-“

“Have you even gotten any of the messages we’ve left you-“

“I’m not working today-“

“Obviously,” He cuts me off for the hundredth time. “Harry’s in Vienna alone with god knows who!”

I don’t point out the contradiction in his sentence.

“Isn’t Riley supposed to be with him?”

“Riley quit.”

“What?! When?”

“Today. Apparently the sneak’s been cozying up with one of Harry’s supposed friends. He’s left us high and dry!”

“Is that why you’re calling me?” My confusion grows.

“Jesus no. Just look at your bloody messages.”

I put him on speaker and check the link to the photos he sent me. I gasp.

Harry looks a mess, one in a bar and another right outside it. With a questionable choice of friends.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Jeff continues. “Nobody can reach him and Riley decided to courier the stupid phone back to the penthouse so we don’t have access to his gps. But you do. That’s why I’m trying to reach you y/n. You’ve gotta go there and get him home.”

“Get him home? He’s in another country!”

“Yes, for that niche fucking awards show. You gotta get him back to his hotel and sober him up. We paid some fucker way too much money not to leak these photos and I don’t want to find out some other fucker took more.”

“Isn’t this something his publicist should be doing? Or you?” I’m starting to get angry. Why was Harry like a big fucking toddler that I had to go get when he was misbehaving. “I took the weekend off-“

“Listen. Y/n. We will pay you 5 times your rate if you just get on a plane and sort him out. I’m in Iceland right now. On holiday! Nobody is paying me 5 times the amount to deal with this and I don’t get back to the UK until tomorrow.”

“His publicis-“

“And Graham is the one that caught all this but he doesn’t fly out until tomorrow. So that leaves you. Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

I think about Gray, should I call him? Let him know? Fuck. Fuck Harry and his ability to ruin my whole life.

“I don’t have a choice here do I?” I ask wearily.

“Sure you do, one gets you a nice pay check. The other doesn’t.”

“Fuck,” I swear just loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know when the next flight is.”

“There’s a private jet that can leave within the hour I’ll text you the address can you make it?”

I map it. 30 or so minutes away. I look around my room—I had my emergency duffle with my passport the Harry Survival Guide told me to keep so I didn’t need to pack much.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

***

“Out of all the fucking nights,” I swear as I take the elevator down. The flight had been under 2 hours and I’d kept my eyes glued to Harry’s phone locator. He’d moved one location so far. The hotel wasn’t too far from this location so I drop my bags off on the en-suite and head out into the beautiful city.

It’s buzzing despite the hour and I wish it was a calmer trip so I could take pictures and soak in the beauty of Vienna.

Instead I trudge on to the little dot on my phone and avoid thinking about Gray and how much he would love this city. And how badly I betrayed him tonight.

What to do when he won’t answer the phone: track his gps, get good at lock-picking and don’t be shy to call whoever he’s out with to get ahold of him. Harry not answering his phone unexpectedly usually means bad decisions.

I find Harry in a kitschy club but it’s not easy. In the flashes of blue and purple lights I sort through all the men about the same height as him. None of them are him.

I knew he was here. I scan the room a second time, he had to be in one of the private sections.

I walk the perimeter until I see a flash of a familiar laugh.

“Harry!” I shout but a man in a suit steps in front of me.

“Private area,” he says in a rough accent.

“I’m his assistant I need to see him!” I point to Harry but he just steps in my way again. I shout Harry’s name and on the second try he looks up.

“Heyy!” He lights up and picks his way over the people sitting around him. He loops his arm around the brick wall in front of me. “That’s y/n! Y/n you came let her in!”

“Thank you,” I shoot the man a dirty look even though I knew he was just doing his job. He was the difference between a PR disaster and no disaster. “Harry we-“

“Have a drink!” He slurs. My heart quickens when I get a glimpse of the table with an assortment of drugs all over it. “Relax. C’mon c’mon!”

Harry pours me champagne and leads me by the hand to where he was just sitting. A couple shift away to make room for me but I stay standing as Harry sinks into the cushion.

“Mr. Styles we-“

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Harry says seriously before bursting into laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this uninhibited before. One part of me is nervous and another part finds it intriguing.

He tugs me down and I tip into the couch, the champagne sloshing over the rim. What the-

“Relax,” he whispers into my ear. It goes straight to my stomach. “Have some champagne and enjoy the night!”

“I want to-“

“Your fiancé won’t let you drink with me? Is that the issue here?”

“No,” I bite. “I am taking you back-“

“I,” Harry sits up and hovers over me. “I am not speaking to you until you drink! Good god woman, lean back! Relax! What do Americans say take a chill pill?”

“I don’t need a chill pill.”

Harry mimes zipping his lips closed.

I roll my eyes and bring the champagne to my lips to take a mock sip but he must anticipate this. Using his finger he tips the glass even further. Half of it drips down my chin.

“Agh!” I jerk the glass away but Harry just laughs. “This is so not funny.”

He leans in smiling. I expect him to stop but he continues moving into me until his lips are on my jaw. His mouth coasts over my skin before he buries his head in my neck where the champagne had dripped down leaving a pool of heat-

“Harry!” I jerk away and push my hands into his chest to prop him up. His eyes are half-closed but as intense as ever as he looks into mine.

What the fuck. What the fuck just happened.

My hands are shaking, steady only because of the force of Harry pressing into them. I feel the tears springing to my eyes, why the fuck did he just…

“Sorry,” he smiles, his finger brushing my cheek. “Y’had some champagne there.”

It was nothing, I tell myself. He’s drunk and taken god knows what. He’s out of his mind. And he was going for the champagne, not me.

I loosen my arms but he comes back towards me again.

“Fuck this,” I mutter. I push him back into the sofa and get up. “We are going back to the hotel. Now.”

“Just stay a little longer here. It’s life. I’m bloody famous!” His hands come around my waist to pull me towards him but I dig my heel in.

I grab him by the shirt and haul his lanky body up, it’s like lifting a slab of marble. We nearly fall into the table but I catch us on my back leg in time.

I get us outside and call a taxi. Harry sways into me and I help keep him up.

“S’cold,” he complains.

“It’s really not.” I look back to him but he doesn’t look good. I lean him against the wall gently. “Harry look at me.”

He eyes stay closed but his head bobbles and he starts to tip forward again.

“Harry!” I nearly slap him. Instead I push him against the wall and use my body to keep him propped upright. I grab his face in my hands. “Harry look at me you’re scaring me.”

“You’re scaring me,” he slurs.

I shake his face a bit and try to pry open an eye which makes him laugh.

“I was alone,” he mumbles.

“I am not carrying you into or out of that car so you better stay conscious.” I tap his cheek.

“You’re no fun.” He says and I ignore him. “I was alone but you came.”

“Not out of any choice,” I mumble.

Our taxi arrives and I’m shaking him every few minutes to keep him conscious. At the hotel I get some help to his room when they recognize his face.

I drop him in bed with a sigh of relief. He looked pathetic like that. And I wanted to cry out of frustration.

I take his shoes off and then his shirt, deciding to keep his trousers on. I leave a bottle of water on his bedside with painkillers and head to the bathroom. For the second time tonight I get ready for bed.

I scrub the sticky champagne out of my neck and block out the feeling of his lips on me. Block out the confusing feelings that arose.

I grab my phone and pray for a text from Gray but there’s nothing. I update Jeff and he sends me a thumbs up. All that and just a fucking thumbs up.

***

Still no text from Gray the next morning.

Harry’s still in bed when I get up. I crack on and order both of us breakfast, ordering the most expensive things just to get something out of being here.

Harry wakes to the smell of coffee, groaning as soon as he sits up. I don’t know what he took last night but it serves him right.

“Y/n?” He sounds just as confused as last night.

“In the flesh,” I nearly growl.

“I thought Riley’s s’pose to be here?”

“So you do remember I’m supposed to be off all weekend.” I can’t hold back on the sass. I’m too mad at everyone.

“Yeah…what?”

“Riley quit.”

“Riley…quit? That’s why you’re here?”

“No.” I want to throw my cup of coffee in his face. “I’m here because you weren’t answering your phone last night and the only updates we were getting were compromising pictures of you absolutely pissed.”

“You sound like my publicist.”

“Your publicist had to pay the photographer off.”

“It couldn’t be that bad,” Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed and winces. He notices the painkillers and pops them. “Did you undress me?”

I pull the photos up on my phone and show them to him. He throws the phone down on the bed after a glance.

“Okay so he sent you to get me back to the hotel?”

“Jeff called me.”

“Jeff’s on holiday.”

“So was I.” My anger brews over. “I had 2 fucking days off Harry and I couldn’t even get that! You had to go to Vienna and get pappd doing the stupidest shit and of course I have to come in and save your ass because I can’t get any time these days to just be!”

He groans as he gets up and shuffles towards me. My heart picks up speed but he simply reaches for the coffee and takes a big gulp. The silence stretches out after my outburst and I wait with an anxious anger for what comes out of his mouth.

“You didn’t have to come. I could have lived with the consequences of being an idiot last night-“

“Jeff didn’t give me a choic-“

“There’s always a choice,” he holds up his finger to my face, hovering an inch from my lips. “Jeff can’t do shite. If he fired you he needs my final say. So again, I didn’t ask you to come here.”

Fuck him, I think. Does he really think I could have said no and gone on with my night? Since it didn’t come out of his mouth, he vanishes any accountability? He’d totally at fault here.

“Secondly,” he wasn’t finished I guess and his eyes are like laser beams into my soul. “It’s Mr. Styles.”

Anything I was about to mouth off on disappears. Like a sinkhole it all collapses below the surface and I’m left feeling as I always did—humiliated.

“Now,” Harry puts his cup down. “That’s not to say thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. I don’t remember a lot of it so I’m not sure what happened but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”

I don’t answer. I bite my tongue until it falls right off and I can swallow it. I wish I could also swallow the memory of his lips that spring to mind.

“It is a Sunday, if you’d like to take it off feel free. The stylist team is coming around 4 to get me ready for tonight.”

“Well, you’ll need me to coordinate this evening since that was the point of Riley being here,” my voice comes out smoother than I felt.

“Ok,” he dismisses me. “I need a shower.”

He leaves and I clench my fists to keep from throwing everything within range at him. How could he flip the script like this? Turn my life upside down and then act like he did nothing wrong?

I go to my phone and hover over Grayson to call him but i have a notification from him. He’s sent me a message, it’s a link.

I click it. It’s a small article in a tabloid about Harry Styles and his mystery woman. You can’t tell it’s me but our pose looks intimate from last night—him leaning against the wall with my knee in between his legs and my body propping him up while my hands hold his face.

But Grayson knows its me.

I get my other phone and message it in the group with Harry’s publicist.

He responds casually: It’ll blow over don’t worry. Can’t see your face plus romantic is better than looking fucked up like the other pics.

It would blow over for Harry but not for me.

I try to call Grayson but he doesn’t pick up.

I close the room door and bury myself in bed, aching so hard it was hard to believe I was still breathing. It felt like an end, I know I could talk it through with Grayson and explain once he saw the other photos. But something feels like it died tonight.

***

“Y/n?” A voice sings outside my door. “Helloo?”

I feel hungover as I open my crusty eyes. I’m in an unfamiliar room and-

“Hello hello?”

I sit up. I was in a hotel suite and I had to help get Harry to his show. Shit.

I look at the time, it’s nearly 5.

“Sorry!” I shout at whoever was behind the door. “Sorry one sec!”

One look in the mirror and I know I had to throw my hair up. I swish some mouthwash around and exit to the lounge.

“Hi,” a woman I’ve never met smiles kindly at me.

“Sorry. Did you need something from me?”

“Yes,” she takes my arm and leads me towards where Harry was getting his hair done. He looks amused as he watches me. “I need you here. We need to get you ready.”

“Oh no,” I say but sit where I’m told by this commanding woman. “Oh I’m just helping coordinate so you just focus on Mr.-“

“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice cuts me off. “Riley comes with me to these things when Jeff isn’t around. Since neither are here you’re joining me and Graham.”

I look for his publicist but I’m told he was running late. Great.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” I say as the woman takes a wet wipe to my face. “I thought I had Sunday off.”

“You reminded me you’re replacing Riley,” Harry says. “And I got the team to get you a few things but I don’t know your size. I’m sure one of them will fit. Kit can tailor it if you need.”

“Wha…” my face is positioned to the side and cream is dotted all over. I shut my mouth and glance at Harry which becomes a glare when I realize he’s enjoying this.

“Lighten up Y/N, it’s not the end of the world.”

He didn’t know. It was the end of my world.

***

The red carpet or whatever this imitation of it was is a sensory nightmare. Graham had explained on the car over I was to stick to the shadows with him and his security detail. I don’t know why they stuck me in this beautifully tailored pantsuit just to be in the shadows. But apparently I could keep it so I was happy about that.

While Harry gets his name shouted and photos taken I watch from the side, hiding behind Graham’s shoulder so I don’t get caught in any pictures. The flashes still make my head hurt.

Again, we stand off to the side as Harry gets interviewed by labels I recognized and others that must be local. One woman has the nerve to ask,

“So Harry the whole internet is dying to know who your mystery woman is. Would you like to give our viewers a hint?”

I stiffen and Graham glances my way with a warning look. He’d already prepped Harry in the car but I couldn’t believe someone would be so bold as to ask. But that was show business.

“Ah you know what the media’s like, all out of context. I love the theories especially the one about this being my secret fiancé but I would like the viewers to know I’m not engaged, very much single, and not to believe everything you see online.”

I hold my breath as Harry answers but he’s a natural, I had to admit. He went off script a little—he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the content of the photo, but he did so with grace and humour. Wow. I could learn a few things.

Graham relaxes beside me once the reporter laughs and asks if he sees himself not being single any time soon. When we finally move on Graham wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gives it a shake.

“You did good kid,” he kisses his cheek with all the leftover adrenaline from the carpet. “I’ll see you in there. I see some friends I want to catch up with first.”

Then it’s just Harry and I, and his shadow of a security detail who Harry dismisses while he’s inside the room.

“So I guess now’s the part you go to your seat?” I ask. There was no What to do at an Awards Show so I was clueless and I decided I would create one myself to keep the legacy of all these dos and don’ts.

“It is,” Harry looks…nervous? His eyes flicker around the room and his jaw twitches. I do a sweep of my own, there’s a lot of people I don’t recognize and those I do I’m just about dying trying to stay casual.

“I thought that reporter was going to propose after you cleared up how single you were.”

“Hm?” Harry looks at me—in heels I was finally near eye-level to him. His gaze clears as he takes in what I said and I consider it a win getting him back down to earth. “Oh. Her, yeah she was cheeky with those questions wasn’t she?”

His smile makes me stomach dip. “Yeah she slipped them in so expertly. I thought ‘I have to take some tips from her’. And you, you were good dodging the question.”

“I didn’t lie,” Harry’s now fully engaged in our conversation. I give myself a pat on the back. “It was just you and I am still single.”

Just you. I fake a laugh, “Yeah. That photo is proof that I’m stronger than I look because you were deadweight and I managed to get you to bed y’know that.”

His green eyes flicker up and down my face for a beat. “I know that. I…hope that picture didn’t get you into any trouble.”

I look away, unsure how to answer. He brings a hand to my arm. “I can talk to someone if it helps?”

“Oh no,” my cheeks flush. “No I don’t think that would make anything better but thank you. I…appreciate the-“

“Harry? Oh my god it’s you!”

I retreat in a quarter of a second, invisible once again for Harry to shine with his colleagues. It’s a singer I recognize but I only remember her stage name, Dragon something. I watch them embrace and I try to wind up the spool of thread I’d released when Harry showed some kindness.

I think I had some issues, I became unrecognizable every time Harry was nice for a moment. I had to remember that it was temporary and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross.

Yesterday flashes into my mind. God, was it just yesterday?

Harry starts walking with the other musician arm in arm. It comes to me as I follow why I knew her. There were rumours shortly before I interviewed with Harry about seeing him on the town with this woman. So they had history. Of course.

By the time Graham joins me in our seats I’ve become part of the wallpaper and I feel like I’m being torn away when he acknowledges me to ask if everything had gone ok. I stay invisible for the rest of the evening and I try to remember that’s how it would be.

***

We’re sat on the tarmac for the ride home and I try to refresh my messages over and over but Gray hasn’t responded after I’d told him we had to talk. He was stupidly good at the cold shoulder and I felt like a needy bitch whenever he got like this.

“Could I get a water y/n?” Harry asks from across the aisle. He has his head tipped back and he looks awful—consequences of an after party where he drank himself silly again and relied on me to get him home. I did make friends with some other PAs who were roped to the party so that was the only highlight.

“Sure.” I go to the front of the jet where Graham is typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the rest of us. I grab Harry a coffee too. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

Harry accepts it graciously and I go back to refreshing my phone.

I thought he’d fallen asleep an hour into the flight until he unbuckles his seat and slips in beside me.

“Can I get your phone?” He holds his hand out.

“Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“You’re driving me crazy refreshing that thing it’s like you’re getting paid per refresh.”

I was lost in a trance doing it. I put the phone facedown on my lap but he takes it from me.

“Hey-“

“I’m keeping this until we land. I promise you if you haven’t gotten any messages by now you won’t get any at all.”

His patronizing tone wriggles something loose and I have to look away, out the window, so he doesn’t see the tears.

“My offer still stands,” he says quietly after my silence. I shake my head.

“Thanks,” my voice wavers. “It won’t help. He just gets…quiet. Any time there’s an issue he just goes quiet and it drives me f…crazy. I feel crazy.”

“You kind of look it.” I’m ready to throw him a dirty look but Harry’s smiling when I look at him. I was rarely on the receiving end of such a handsome look that I forget I was going to be mad. “What? You do, hunched over your phone pressing down over and over. My neck hurts just looking at you.”

I sigh and leans back into the seat, trying to straighten myself out.

“Sorry,” I sniffle. “I just need some sort of proof of life from him. He knows it drives me crazy when he ignores me but he does it anyway. He could be dead for all I know. Anyway, I’ll stop now you can give me my phone back.”

“Mmm no,” Harry pats the pocket he put it in. “You listen to me. It stays here.”

I don’t fight him. It was for my own good.

He sits with me for the rest of the flight. It should be uncomfortable but having another person’s presence beside me—knowing there was a shoulder pressing against mine, makes me feel a little less lonely today.

He probably didn’t intend that, I rethink the thought. Harry wasn’t thoughtful like that, he was probably just too lazy to move back.

We take the car home when we land but Harry tells me to take the rest of the Monday off even though it was already 2.

“And y/n,” Harry stops me before I exit the car where it stalls outside my complex.

“Yes?” I wait for the other shoe to drop—I had the day off but…

“If he knows it drives you crazy, and he truly loves you, he should respect you and give you a chance to talk. You deserve that.”

My breath catches at the unexpected words. I feel my defences go up.

“You’ll work it out,” he rushes on when I don’t respond.

I’m left feeling slightly reassured and mostly confused.

“Thank you,” I look at him a beat too long and it feels awkward so I scramble out and head up. To someone I hope was willing to listen like Harry said.

***

Like a baby calf out of the womb, my relationship stays on shaky grounds. It feels like building a foundation all over again after thinking that was already done with, but Hurricane Harry had caused a lot of damage.

Now 9 months into my new job I wasn’t always so on edge. But I was busy.

With no Riley, the team had decided to hold off on hiring anyone new and my work load had tripled. I’d brought it up casually and just as casually Harry had let me know I would be compensated.

I thought about Vienna a lot. Things were done and said there that should change our dynamic but didn’t. Not much. Harry was still an ass, he still demanded most of my time, and I still suffered from major anxiety about my life falling apart.

So maybe I was still on edge, just about different things.

“G’morning,” Gray whispers to me. I wanted to sleep in and cuddle with my fiancé but I’d already snoozed my alarm and I knew I had to get to work. I had errands to run all over town.

“Morning,” I burrow my head into his warm body. “I don’t wanna work.”

He kisses the top of my head. “How about I join you on some of those errands you mentioned? We can get coffee?”

I’m suddenly excited about going to work.

Gray laughs when I climb over him and kiss him like a lunatic, and we’ve been together too long to be embarrassed about morning breath or pillow face. I can’t believe I almost lost him.

The day is perfect as Gray and I move around town doing odd bits. We get to grab lunch together and I’m so glad what a good sport Gray had been about it all since I’d forced him to carry any heavy items.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” Gray drops me off at Harry’s. We linger in the lobby for a few minutes. “I’m cooking.”

“Mmm can’t wait,” I kiss him before taking the load from him. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

“I had fun, I hate to admit it.” He grins as I walk backwards to the elevator. He takes my breath away.

Grayson’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but I collide into a body behind me before he can warn me.

“Oh shit sorry I-“ I turn and Harry stands behind me with Jeff walking off the elevator. He was probably headed to the studio and I was late. Dammnit!

“Y/N,” Harry says.

“I’m so. Sorry,” I look between Gray, Jeff, and Harry. Do I introduce everyone? Do I apologize and rush to drop these things off so I could join them like I’m supposed to?

Jeff makes it easy, walking away on his phone. Then it’s Harry and Gray.

“I’m sorry I meant to be upstairs five minutes ago.” I tell Harry who’s expression is hard to read. “Uhm…this is Grayson my fiance I don’t think y’all have met he was just dropping me off since I had my hands full. Um. Gray this is…well you know who this is I-“

My blabbering is cut short as Harry steps forward to shake hands and I nearly die at the steely look Gray gives him. Also, why the fuck did I say y’all?! I wasn’t even southern.

“Grayson Duran yeah? Nice to meet you,” Harry says. I’m surprised he knows his full name. He must have asked his friends.

“Yeah,” Gray drops his hand. “The infamous Harry Styles—I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Harry says, glancing at me. Why would he say that. “As much as I’d love to chat, y/n you’re late and we’re heading to the studio. Can you give all that to the concierge?”

“Yes,” I nod. “Have you got-“

“I grabbed my things yes. I’ll see you in the car.”

Harry nods to Gray and leaves an air of cologne and annoyance behind. Gray and I lock eyes and I burn with embarrassment.

“What a dick,” Gray mumbles.

I’m offended, wait, why am I offended? It’s not like Harry wasn’t a dick.

“Yeah, I gotta go sorry babe.” I rush to the concierge and explain the delivery.

“Y’all?” Gray asks when I rush back to him.

“I know I know,” I cringe. “It just came out. I gotta go but thank you so much for today. Loveyoubye!”

I give him a quick peck and rush out, nearly collapsing into Harry’s car.

“Sorry about that, being late. That won’t happen again I meant to be there before you left-“

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Harry says stiffly, staring out the window. He was a dick, Gray was right. But why was I so offended at him saying that right after meeting him?

Things felt so confusing these days and I just wanted time to catch my breath and figure things out. A few more weeks and I’d get some time off for the holidays at least, I was looking forward to that.

***

Even though I planned the intimate holiday party and spent countless hours on the phone making sure every detail would be perfect I can’t help but criticize it as I join.

“Maybe I should have gone with a live band,” I mutter as someone takes mine and Grayson’s coats. Tonight I was supposed to shut my brain off as Harry said, and enjoy the party as a guest. But that part was hard to shut off after nearly 10 months of re-wiring it.

Grayson was tough to convince but finally he’d agreed to come to the party. Things were mostly back to normal with us. I tried to be home by 7 most nights and didn’t talk about work too much.

But sometimes it felt like a volcano lived inside me with how much I had to compartmentalize and keep in and when times got really tough, I wanted to spew everywhere.

“Josie told me your mom’s doing bohemian Christmas?” I ask Gray as we hover by the foyer. I’d just had a catchup with her yesterday now that she was finished exams. “Do you know what that means.”

“Mum’s crazy,” Gray sighs. His relationship with her was always followed by a sigh, an eye roll, a heavy resignation for who she was. I never quite understood it.

Josie, on the other hand, loved their loud and free-spirited mother. As for me, I thought she was the most interesting woman I ever met and we’d gotten along instantly.

“She’s always got some new idea up her sleeve,” I try to make things more positive. “What do you want a bet it’s going to be vegan?”

“I don’t bet when I know that’s what she’s serving. That’s why we do dad’s for lunch and hers for dinner. We’re too stuffed once we get there to care what she’s serving.”

“Remember when I tried to get you to go vegan and-“

“Y/N! Hi,” I’m interrupted by a friendly face in the crowd and end up chatting with people I’d worked with the last few months. We introduce our partners and they chat but I keep an eye on Grayson, in case anything changes.

I watch Harry’s friends trickle in and Gray lights up when he sees Liam and a few other people he trained.

I flit around the room with ease after that, knowing Gray had friends to keep him company. I make sure drinks are filled and catering is setting up. Until a hand stops me.

“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” Harry reminds me.

“Yes. Right. Well…”

“Y/N,” he warns.

“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Not working, here look I’m enjoying myself!”

I pick up a random drink and take a big sip. Champagne. Suddenly I remember the last time I drank champagne in front of Harry and I nearly cough it back up.

“Ugh,” Harry hands me a napkin and I try not to bristle. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yeah sorry just…just not a fan of champagne.”

We lock eyes and I’m gripped with the sudden and very real possibility that Harry may actually remember parts of that night.

When his eyes flicker down to my neck, it’s confirmed. Oh god.

“Well! I’m off to find a better drink!” I turn too quickly, nearly taking out the caterer who was setting up hors d’œuvres on the table. “Sorry!”

Oh my god. Harry remembered.

Did he remember this whole time? Was he pretending to forget that night? Did he ever remember the moment randomly in my presence like I did?

I had to stop freaking out. It had been months!

Where was Grayson.

I locate my fiancé in a random group but his eyes are already on me. I raise a hand and he smiles, raising a finger to tell me he’d be there in a moment.

My mind races in the meantime, wondering if I should mention the incident to Harry and tell him I was fine. Or maybe that proved the opposite. No. I should just keep it unspoken like we had this whole time. Oh my god!

“Quite a turnout,” Grayson comes back to me. Two drinks in his hand. “I saw you talking to Harry why did you look so scared? Did he say something?”

“Oh!” Of course Gray saw. “No. I just…almost choked on my champagne the fizz y’know? And then I didn’t want to make a scene so I left.”

“Hm,” Gray wraps his hand around my waist. “Hey I see a mistletoe I’m going to nudge you in that direction.”

“You don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me babe.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

I let him lead me to it and he kisses me with a knee-bending passion.

“Woah,” I feel dazed when we finally part. “That was fucking romantic.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Excuse me!” Harry’s voice rings over the crowd and the room hushes slowly. “Uh hiya! Thank you all for coming tonight and making me feel like I have friends during the holidays.”

A quiet laugh rumbles over the crowd. Harry looks magnetic on his makeshift podium, he’s in a cozy red sweater that I know cost more than my month’s salary and a collar peeks out from under it. He’s got on navy slacks and tinsel thrown over his shoulder. I’d bought that sweater, I remember. But he managed to pull the rest of the outfit together well.

“…a few people.” He continues. I’d zoned out. “My manager Jeff of course—this year has been a roller coaster and you’ve managed it all. Charlie, Claire, Niji, Elin, Sarah, and Mitch. We had a ball playing our hidden shows this fall but we have so much planned for the year ahead. I’m beyond grateful that you all came into my life and we get to make music together!”

A few whoops in the crowd and the people he mention raise their hands and shout out their own praises to Harry.

Harry thanks a few more people and says some more kind words. I don’t expect him to zero in on me.

“Last, but not least folks, I want to thank somebody who joined my team this year. She’s seen a lot—she’s been in the trenches my friends, she has. But she’s stuck with me. She’s planned everything tonight so really you’re all here because of her. Y/N, please make yourself known and everyone should give her a thank you if you talk to her tonight for tonight.”

Oh god. I am as bright as Harry’s sweater and with every single eye turning on me I’m sure I also turn every shade of the rainbow. I paste on a grin that feels like I’m the Joker and hope it looks normal.

I wave awkwardly and make eyes with Harry across the room who looks like he’s having a ball putting me in the centre of everyone’s attention. I was really going to wring his neck but he winks at me and finally turns the attention back to him with a few closing words, then starting the music and food.

“Am I alive?” I ask Gray beside me whose hand had dropped from my waist during the last few minutes. “I think I died of embarrassment and turned into the ghost of Christmas’ present.”

I turn to Gray and he looks around me. “Hello? Is someone talking to me?”

“Gray!” I push his shoulder and he laughs. “I hated every second of that.”

“I know,” Gray laughs again. “You hate attention.”

“I do! I swear Harry was up there gloating didn’t you notice? Ugh I hate him.”

Gray’s expression shutters for a second. “Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.”

“Y/N, quite a shoutout.” A voice says from my right. It’s Liam who I hadn’t seen myself in ages. I go in for a hug and hope my embarrassment clears away as we catch up.

As the night goes on I ease up a little, enjoy the mingling and the drinks. Especially the drinks. The evening’s embarrassment and everyone coming up to me knowing my name was hell so I drink to keep up the liquid courage.

Coming out of the toilets for the tenth time that night with all the drinks I was downing, I notice a light on in the room.

I go to it, in case it was a guest in a place they shouldn’t be.

I don’t spot him at first, flicking off the lights only to see a shadow move. Harry.

“Oh! It’s you. Is everything alright?” I lean in the doorway. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in this office actually. He always hovered outside it like I was now.

“Yeah yeah, just came for some air.” He walks up to me and I step out of the way so he can leave. But he stays just inside so I move back to my spot.

“Air? In the smallest room here?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like he’s been caught. “I was looking for you. We ran out of ice I just don’t remember where you stored the rest.”

“Well I’m not working remember? So I don’t know.”

“Touché. I guess the guests will just have a shite time with their lukewarm drinks.”

Ugh. He knew me too well.

“Fine. I’ll get the bag. By the way, that wasn’t funny. What you did earlier.” I put my hands on my hips, ready to give him a piece of my mind for embarrassing me.

“What!? It wasn’t meant to be funny. I’m expressing my gratitude y/n.”

“In front of a whole room of random people who are all looking at me? You know I would have hated it!”

“Let’s just say I’m trying to get you out of your shell,” Harry teases. He smells of his usual cologne, the fresh soap he used, and scotch. I spot the empty glass on my desk.

“I’m plenty out of my shell thank you. You know, you could have just said it to me privately. That would have meant more.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He inhales sharply and turns around.

“What?” I ask his back.

“Nothing.” He turns back around. “You do good work y/n, people should know.”

Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I only seemed to do this when Harry was nice. Because otherwise I knew how mean he could be. Why couldn’t there just be a balance.

“Why are you so randomly nice to me?”

Oops. All those drinks made for some loose lips.

“What?” He’s taken aback.

“Yeah,” I feel fired up now that it’s out. “You ignore me half the time—not that I expect to be bffs but at least a hello now and then would be nice. Then when you do talk it’s grunts and clipped answers. You’re pretty mean to me! And suddenly out of nowhere it’s like-like this 180 and you’re really nice. And praising me in front of a crowd. What’s up with that?”

His expression retreats the more I talk and I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. Forget the whole speech just now I’m pretty sure I’ve just written my own termination notice.

“I have to be,” he says simply after an awkward pause.

“Have to?” I demand. “You have to be mean to me?”

The long deleted Dos and Dont list when I first joined flashes through my mind. Did that have something to do with it?

“Because when I spoke to Riley that one time for drinks, he told me you weren’t always this mean. So is it me? You just said to a whole crowd how helpful I am so I just don’t get why you’re so mean sometimes!”

“What else did Riley say?” Harry hangs on to that.

“I…a lot I dunno! Riley faffs a lot. He’s also a creep but that’s neither here nor there I-“

“What do you mean he’s a creep?” The room feels even smaller as he zeroes in.

“I-“ I try to stutter something to change the subject but he stays on, asking me again. “It’s nothing. He was drunk and he made a pass at me-“

“He did?! Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s zero space between the two of us now.

“Why would I? It was something that happened outside work hours, plus you warned me and I didn’t listen-“

“Y/n you should have told me,” he swears. “I let that little shite get away with way too much.”

“Yeah well he’s not the only person working here who’s made a drunken pass at me so let’s not make it a big deal okay?”

I guess I wasn’t holding back.

Harry closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. One mississippi two mississippi three-

“You’re right.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I want to get out of this room, find Gray, and stay in the light. Because this small, dimly lit space was becoming too intimate. And yet, I can’t seem to will myself to move.

“I am?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it—what I did was incredibly wrong. Being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse and I promise I don’t go around doing that to everyone-“

“I know,” I say before thinking. It was weird of Harry to do but I never felt unsafe with him. I understood what he was trying to say.

“You can make it a big deal if you want. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

I feel weird having the roles reversed—Harry apologizing to me. Promising not to do something again. I recognize what he’s doing is right but I don’t know what to do with myself. My breathing’s shallow with Harry so close to me, practically hovering over me. I should’ve worn higher heels to really equal the field.

“Thanks,” I finally manage. It’s low and raspy and I barely get in enough air to speak it. He doesn’t respond.

We stay in the tableau, our breathing irregular, in between a single decision that both of us knew wouldn’t end well. Yet neither of us are strong enough to end the frozen display.

“You clean up nice,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as he compliments my getup. I’d worn a simple cowl-necked slip dress and strappy shoes with my hair in an up-do. I was definitely underdressed after seeing the other guests but I believe Harry means it.

“Don’t look as haggard as I usually do, you mean?” I find my voice again. I barely have to whisper for him to hear.

“You never look haggard,” Harry says as he brings his hand up and traces the curve of my dress strap. My heartbeat was loud and surely showing through my dress.

“You should go,” Harry adds in a whisper.

My head feels like it’s filled with carbonation as I nod in agreement. This was bad. With a capital B. I had to go.

“I…should go.” I repeat. Slowly I inch sideways on the wall and Harry leans away. We stare at each other for another long moment before I scurry away, my heart in my throat and my guilt where my heart should be.

“Don’t forget the ice,” I hear Harry call out from the room. Miraculously this is exactly when Grayson turns the corner.

“Y/n? Where were you?”

“Oh I-“ I imagined I looked fucked up. Because I felt high and out of my mind. The white lie comes out, attached to a thread that unstitches something within. “I drank too much, so I was in the toilet.”

“Oh,” Gray looks relieved and I’m sinking with guilt. Technically I did nothing wrong. I didn’t even have feelings for Harry. But whatever physical magnetism he seemed to have nearly made me do something I’d seriously regret. “Did I hear someone say something about ice?”

“Yeah!” I laugh and it comes out like I had never learned how. “I just bumped into Harry, we ran out of ice. So much for not working huh?”

“At least everyone knows how hard you work,” he jokes.

I stick to Gray’s side for the rest of the night, not touching a single drop of alcohol. I had to forget everything in that room ever happened if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity. I had to be a better person, the devil was handsome and I had to stop playing into his tricks.

I call it quits a few hours later when I notice Gray low on energy.

“I’ll get our coats,” I tell him. The relief on his face is palpable.

I go through where the spare closet was but hear voices in Harry’s darkened room. The door’s open so I go to investigate. I regret it instantly.

Harry’s inside with a woman, I don’t see much of her as she’s on the bed but I know it’s Harry with the tone of his voice as they exchange words.

My stomach drops and it’s like an accident on the side of the road, I’m mortified but I can’t look away.

I watch him kiss her and I feel like I’m sinking through the floorboards.

“Oh!” The woman notices me when she turns her head and pulls the sheet up. She whispers, “you didn’t close the-“

“Oh it’s fine,” Harry laughs. He sits back on his legs and looks at me, his expression void of anything he was tonight. Like the moment in the room didn’t even happen. “It’s just y/n.”

Of course it didn’t matter to him, I scold myself. I was the one with fucked up issues that couldn’t make up my stupid mind about how I wanted to feel about this man who literally paid me to be around. Who treated me like shit most of the time. Who was nice to me sometimes and I misconstrued it to mean a whole lot more.

What was I thinking? Did I think suddenly this man who’s known to be a player had a single one-sided intense moment with me and that would change him?

I was an absolute idiot.

“Could you get the door?” Harry asks so casually, so nonchalantly, that it punches me in the chest. It was closer to some combination of humiliation and self-inflicted hurt but for now it feels like my chest aches.

“O-of course.” I shut the door and stand there, taking in deep breaths as I try not to think about everything that just happened. Tried not to think of all the million ways I was the worst girlfriend in the world. Tried not to think about the fact that I had to quit sooner than later because things were getting tangled up and it was not okay.

xxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld

I’m trying to make part 3 the last—it includes your final decisions and returning to the present to find out what happens (from the beginning of the story). Thank you, as always, for reading <3 xx

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #slow burn

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just-a-ghost00 · 3 months ago

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Crush series : will they ever confess their feelings?

To pick your group select one of the following emojis. 🥳 🚘 🫧

Group 1 | The lovers, page of swords, 8 of cups, Hanged Man, 8 of swords, 4 of swords 🥳

If this person ever confesses feelings, those might not be what you want to hear. They seem keen on keeping their distances with you. They would tell you that they feel stuck in this connection and need time to heal from that. That they need time to reflect on what they want out of love. That this cold energy they feel is not something they seek and deserve. That they would rather move on and try building a life without you than stay in a state of confusion, being in the cold, not knowing what you feel or want from them, not knowing whether this could be anything more. They would keep it short and clean and then stop communicating, maybe they’d keep an eye on you from afar but that would pretty much be all. This person is in pain, crying over something they think will never be.

Group 2 | The Sun, seven of swords, Queen of wands, The Devil, Justice, 10 of wands 🚘

I feel like this person is doing their best to hide their intentions towards you. But the truth is it is seeping out of them because it is starting to eat them alive. They feel burdened by how attracted they are to you. But this attraction feels a bit obsessive. This person would rather die than admit how they feel. However they can’t lie to themselves and they can’t lie to you. If their mouth isn’t speaking their eyes do the trick, as well as their body posture, their moves, their actions. This person has already said I love you in a thousand different ways, trying to strategically show you their interest without being too obvious about it (or so they think) and they don’t know what more they could do to get the message across. For some of you, I’m picking up on someone entertaining two different relationships at the same time. They might not feel satisfied with their current partner which led to them taking interest in you.

Group 3 | The Sun, five of wands, High Priestess, 7 of swords, 8 of swords, The Emperor 🫧

I don’t think this person will ever share with you how they feel about you. They are likely to take their secrets to the grave. This person is hiding behind layers and layers of masks and secrecy. They want to remain in control of where things are going. Showing you their true nature would mean being vulnerable and that is something they cannot afford. They take pride in being strong, independent, unstoppable. They take pride in being a leader, showing the way and having a sure footing. If they let room for feelings, they think that they will lose their power and balance, give you an opportunity to hurt them and have the upper hand. This person values their freedom over anything else so sharing their feelings is not an option in their mind. I mean there isn’t a single cup card in this spread and most cards indicate secrecy and/or having your guards up, being closed off. Strangely I couldn’t pick up on any song for this group.

#crush series #just-a-ghost #pick a card #pac reading

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jellojelli · 5 months ago

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Penacony Big 3 Hurt You're Feelings/How They Make Up for It

*a/n: idk if they're really the big three but they are in my heart*

Dr. Ratio

Veritas Ratio likely said something hurtful about your intelligence. He's no stranger to being critical and cold when it comes to academics and if you struggle in a field he is knowledgable about well, oopsies buddy. dear aeons if you are bad at math like I am you will probs be at the table like a child getting yelled at by him

"Are you really so simple-minded and ignorant that you can't even do this much? Really, why did I even agree to be with you?"

Veritas really didn't mean it.... he loves you dearly but he's Bad at Feelings™ and well academics are his thing and he can be kinda bitchy about it, especially with a lover since he holds you in such a good light, and high standards

If you get angry Veritas gets angry back, and then goes cold. He'll stop arguing with you and simply let you stew in it to let you calm down. Even if he does want to solve this issue immediately he won't because you and him need to calm down, but he doesn't let you know that's his intention for walking away so it looks bad

If you're the type to cry he gets shocked and feels instantly guilty. He would never want to make you cry because of his words. But again he is Bad at Feelings™ and his pride won't let him just apologize after making you cry so he's going to scoff and walk away like if you got angry, letting you calm down before he goes back in, but it looks really bad since he just scoffed and walked away from you

No matter how angry you get please don't say something over the top or targeting to him because if you mention Nous or the Genius Society he will be genuinely hurt and may not speak to you for a while i.e: a week because that's a real thing he is angry and maybe even a bit insecure about

Veritas will make it up to you, but in his own prideful way. Don't expect some grand apology, begging, or tears from him because that is not him at all. And don't think he will gift you anything either because he doesn't want to taint the notion of gift-giving with anger and hurt. Instead he'll si you down, apologize curtly and possibly make you something or do some things he knows you hate doing, like a meal or some dessert or doing some chores he knows you dislike to show you he is really sorry

Maybe he'd even invite you to bath with him and destress, this is not an invitation to have bath sex because 1) don't ruin the sanctity of his bathtub and 2) sex is already rare with him and he again refuses to ruin the notion and beauty of intimacy with you with anger and hurt

If you said something mean to him you better apologize sincerely to him about it in return or he may hold onto the fact that you like to use things against him and he won't tell you shit anymore because despite his demeanor and attitude he doesn't like his supposed major short-comings thrown in his face

Aventurine/Kakavasha

Aventurine goes through this back and forth with himself about being in a real relationship. One minute he's happy and genuine with you and the next he's stand-offish and arrogant to you. It's the Trauma™ and he doesn't mean to be this way towards you but he's scared one day you'll realize you could do better than him and just up and leave him for someone way better so he said something to try and push you away from him and make you realize this sooner rather than later

"Hah, you think you're special to me? I could have anyone I wanted, you're nothing much to me."

Aeons he is such a liar and the second those words leave his lips he wants to punch himself in the face, or let you punch him instead because why would he say that to the best thing in his life? The best person he's ever met?

If you're someone to get angry he doesn't match your energy. He won't yell at you or fight with you, instead, he digs an even deeper grave and continues his aloof and dismissive behavior, laughing and scoffing at your words while he screams at himself in his head with each hurtful word and action he throws at you. He'll stand his ground until you walk away or tire yourself out and go to bed/nap and then just sits by himself somewhere in the house in a pensive silence thinking about how much of a fucking idiot he is and how his 'luck' can't seem to help him when he needs it to

If you cry instead, oh boy.... Aventurine feels like a real piece of shit but that doesn't stop him from continuing until you run off somewhere in tears. He again sits in silence for a while, cursing himself out and nearly bringing himself to tears as he berets himself for making you cry when all you ever did was love and support him. He feels so toxic and icky that he can't even look at himself right now.

I repeat, DO NOT throw his insecurities in his face because these aren't simple matters that can be overlooked with minor consequences like with Dr. Ratio. If you bring up his past or his home this will be the last you ever see of him because those are things he cannot take lightly and he will never feel comfortable in your presence again because all he will think about is how you view him as a sl**e still or someone not even human. If you do this it will really break him because he really does love and trust you, even if he can't stop himself from trying to push you away at times

Kakavasha will make it up to you via a lot of different things. He starts with getting you a grandiose bouquet of you're favorite flowers. Buying you something you wanted for a while or something you mentioned wanting a while ago that you thought he wouldn't remember. And he will make sure you come back to a spotless and beautiful home after you calm down. Not to mention he transfers 100,000 credits to your account while you're out or asleep. And when you finally are in front of him again he will apologize sincerely, dropping his cocky and suave tone for a genuine and sad-sounding one

He's also willing to do whatever you want after. Shopping at his expense? Cuddling all night? Making him cook you something? Whatever your heart desires he will make it happen for you

Also, expect to be asked to come with him to casinos more often so that he can keep you near and dear during his wins, you are his lucky charm after all ;)

Sunday

This man is tricky. He always presents himself as a cool, collected, and intelligent man who cares deeply. And he does care deeply for you. But sometimes he has his moments, the ones that are darker, selfish, greedy, and just downright mean. He may have said something hurtful while stressed and told you that you're a burden and an annoyance to him, but he didn't mean a single word of it.

"Aeons you're an annoyance you know that? Why must you be a burden now of all times? Can't you see that I am doing more important work and that coddling you will never be my priority?"

Oops... He didn't mean to say that, but that's something he realizes after he's cooled down and had time to reflect. Sunday doesn't mean anything he said, truthfully, he just exploded and said anything to get some alone time... and now he's fucked up big time.

If you get angry Sunday can and will argue with you. He's not for a screaming match, but he will spew venom to beat you're anger and make you stop talking/yelling, even if that leads to him saying even more hurtful things that make you angrier/sadder. In the moment of anger and stress, he doesn't even think about what he's saying, for once he just lets out all his feelings and that unfortunately means he's letting out decades worth of anger and stress onto you

If you start crying, in the moment Sunday says one more hurtful comment about you being pitiful and emotional before stalking off, leaving you alone. Once he's calmed down he stares off into space with a haunted look on his face as he replays the things he said to you and the look on your face before he left. He feels like a dick, like a failure. You were the second person he promised himself to never hurt and now he's made you cry and feel like some worthless burden.

If you throw something he's insecure about in his face he can take it, but in the moment it causes some more venomous anger to come from him. It will prolong the current fight and he's going to start trying to hit below the belt to match your energy. He feels this is fair and just in the moment since you're trying to hit below his belt. Later though he just feels childish and bad since he was the one to start this argument and he deserved to be told those things and he shouldn't have responded to them at all

Sunday will make it up to you by finding you after some time. He sends a text first so you know he's coming, and to let you tell him that he should stay away a little longer if you need some more time to calm down and think. He comes with a bouquet of flowers, a custom one that in flower language means he's regretful and incredibly sorry. He will tell you from his heart that he is sorry, and that he didn't mean any of those things he said. He'll ask what he can do to show you that he is really sorry and means his apology. And he will do anything at all. Buying you something, doing something for you, he'll even do something embarrassing despite being the head of the Oak Family if it means you will accept his apology and continue to be with him

And don't even try to apologize back for anything said or done. He will stop you in your tracks and make sure you know he isn't hurt by anything said, if anything he deserved every word and more in his opinion

#honkai star rail #hsr #dr. ratio #hsr aventurine #kakavasha #sunday hsr #headcanons #scenario

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 9 days ago

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Sacrifices (Book 2 of 3 BTR Series) a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 28: Mamba.. why?

Jey led Morris through the quiet halls of his and Rhea’s home, his jaw tight as he tried to keep his emotions in check. He could still hear the faint sounds of the party outside—the laughter, the music, the sense of family and celebration—but it felt distant, like a memory slipping away as the tension in the house thickened.

As they neared the stairs, Jey came to an abrupt stop, noticing Morris lingering behind. He turned to see the man standing in front of a photo on the wall—a framed picture of Jey and Rhea. In the image, Jey stood behind Rhea, his arms wrapped protectively around her, his hands resting on her stomach, a symbol of their future together: their first child.

Morris’s lips curled into a faint smile as he reached out, his fingers hovering near the glass. “My Mamba,” he murmured softly, the words laced with a kind of wistful possession that made Jey’s blood boil.

“Don’t,” Jey snapped, stepping between Morris and the photo. His glare was sharp enough to cut. “You don’t get to call her that. Not here. Not ever.”

Morris raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk widening. “Relax, Joshua,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “It’s just a memory. Nothing more.”

Jey’s patience was hanging by a thread. “This ain’t about memories,” he said through clenched teeth. “Now move. My office is this way.”

Morris lingered for a moment longer, his gaze flicking back to the photo as if he were burning it into his memory. Then, with a slow nod, he followed Jey down the hall and into the office.

The room was quiet, the weight of the conversation to come pressing down like a storm cloud. Jey took a seat behind his desk, his posture rigid, while Morris remained standing, his demeanor calm but unsettlingly confident.

For a moment, neither man spoke. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension, until Morris finally cleared his throat. “I took care of Mamba’s problem,” he said, his voice steady, almost casual.

Jey’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, you took care of it?”

Morris leaned slightly against the edge of the desk, his hands resting casually at his sides. “My snakes,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “They’re gone. I made sure of it.”

Jey’s stomach churned. He didn’t need clarification to know what Morris was implying. Still, his voice was sharp as he responded. “We didn’t ask you to do that.”

Morris shrugged, as if the decision had been obvious. “You didn’t have to,” he said simply. “I would do anything for Mamba. You know that.”

Jey’s hands curled into fists on the desk, his knuckles whitening. “So why are you here, Morris?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “If you’ve already done what you came to do, what’s the point of this visit?”

Morris’s smirk faltered, his expression shifting to something more serious. He straightened, his gaze locking with Jey’s. “Because there’s a snake that isn’t mine,” he said, his tone grave. “And I can’t find him.”

Jey felt a cold chill run down his spine. The weight of Morris’s words hung heavy in the air, their meaning clear but their implications even darker.

“And what exactly does that mean?” Jey asked, his voice steady despite the unease growing in his chest.

Morris’s eyes hardened, his calm demeanor cracking just enough to reveal the intensity beneath. “It means you’ve got a problem of your own,” he said. “And if you’re not careful, that problem’s gonna strike when you least expect it.”

Jey’s mind raced, but his face remained unreadable. “You know something I don’t, Morris?”

Morris smiled faintly, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Maybe,” he said, pushing off the desk, “Or maybe I’m just giving you a friendly warning. Either way, watch your step, Joshua. Not all snakes hiss.”

Jey’s eyes followed Morris, his movements calculated, his expression betraying nothing. “This isn’t a game,” Jey said firmly, masking the unease bubbling beneath his calm demeanor.

Morris tilted his head slightly, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corner of his lips. “But it is, Joshua,” he replied, his voice cool and deliberate. “A game of chess. Only our pieces are snakes, and the stakes… well, they’re everything.”

Jey’s jaw tightened, his hands resting on the edge of his desk. “What are you trying to say? Speak plain.”

Morris moved closer to the bookshelf, idly trailing a finger along its edge, his tone measured. “Someone had whispered to my snakes. Told them lies. Told them that Mamba… could be touched.”

Jey froze, his breath catching for a split second before he regained his composure. “Touched?”

Morris turned, his expression dark. “Yes. Someone planted that idea, Joshua. They wanted my snakes to test the waters, to see if they could reach her. They wanted to see how far they could push before the beast woke up.” He chuckled bitterly. “And they found out the hard way.”

Jey’s voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room. “Who whispered to them? Who told them that?”

Morris let out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “That’s the thing—I don’t know. But whoever it was, they knew exactly what they were doing. They didn’t just want to rattle the cage. They wanted to set it on fire.”

Jey’s fists clenched, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the implications. “So, what? You’re here to tell me you’ve got no answers? You’re supposed to be the guy who knows everything, Morris.”

Morris raised an eyebrow, his expression cold and calculated. “I know this much: whoever it is, they’ve moved their piece. They’re gambling everything on the idea that I’ll clean up their mess. But this isn’t just only about Mamba anymore, Joshua. This is about you and Mamba.”

Jey narrowed his eyes. “Me?”

Morris nodded slowly. “You’re the knight. The piece that protects the queen. And as long as you’re standing, the game stays alive. That makes you a target.”

Jey’s voice dropped, calm but dangerous. “And what about you? What’s your role in all this?”

Morris smiled faintly, the kind of smile that sent a chill down your spine. “I’m just a player who knows how to read the board. But whoever’s pulling these strings isn’t here to win. They’re here to destroy the game entirely. You think they’re after Mamba, but they’re aiming for the king.”

Jey took a step forward, his tone sharp. “What’s their next move?”

Morris shrugged lightly, his demeanor maddeningly relaxed. “That’s for you to figure out. The best chess players don’t just react, Joshua. They anticipate. Know your enemy’s next move before they make it—or this whole thing collapses.”

Jey stared at him, weighing every word, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Protect your queen, Joshua. But don’t forget about the king. Without him, there’s no game left to play.”

“Jey, baby, are you in—” Rhea’s voice trailed off as she opened the door and her eyes landed on Morris. The shift in her demeanor was immediate; she stood still, her gaze locking on him with an intensity that only deepened as Morris’s familiar smile spread across his face.

“The Black Mamba,” Morris said softly, his tone reverent as his eyes settled on her. His attention lingered on the curve of her stomach, his expression flickering with something almost tender. Slowly, he reached out his hand toward her.

Jey, still seated, stiffened, his sharp gaze darting between the two. “Morris—”

But before Jey could intervene, Morris spoke in Polish, his voice smooth, carrying an air of familiarity. “I trust he has taken care of you.”

Rhea’s brows furrowed slightly, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she placed her hands gently over Morris’s, guiding them away from her stomach. Her response, spoken in fluent Polish, was calm and measured. “He has.”

Jey stood, his presence commanding, as he stepped beside Rhea. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice low but laced with authority. “You speak Polish now?”

Rhea glanced up at Jey, her eyes soft but steady. “It’s from… a long time ago,” she said, her tone holding a weight that Jey immediately recognized as something she wasn’t ready to explain fully.

Morris, unbothered by Jey’s rising tension, chuckled lightly. “She is full of surprises, isn’t she, Joshua?” He stepped back, folding his hands behind him. “Mamba always had a way of commanding a room.”

Jey’s jaw clenched, his protective instincts flaring. “Enough of the cryptic talk. Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here, Morris? Because this sure as hell isn’t a social call.”

Morris tilted his head, his eyes flickering between Jey and Rhea before he finally took a step back toward the door. “I’ve said what I needed to say. The snakes are quiet—for now. But remember what I told you, Joshua. This game of chess isn’t over.”

He turned to Rhea, bowing his head slightly as if she were royalty. “Mamba,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of finality before he exited the room, leaving the tension behind him like a coiled spring.

The door clicked shut, and Jey immediately turned to Rhea, his eyes searching hers. “What the hell was that about, Rhea? Polish? Morris acting like he knows you better than I do?”

Rhea sighed, stepping away and placing a hand on her stomach, her expression troubled. “Jey, it’s complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it,” Jey said firmly, his tone softening as he moved closer. “I need to know, Rhea. Especially now.”

She looked up at him, the conflict evident in her eyes. “It’s not something I can explain in just a few words. But… I’ll tell you. Just not tonight. Tonight’s about Jaciyah. Let’s not ruin it.”

Jey exhaled heavily, clearly unsatisfied but respecting her request. He pulled her into his arms, placing a protective hand over hers on her stomach. “Fine. But when Jaciyah and Daya leave for their movie date, we’re talking. No more secrets, Rhea. Not now. Not ever. I’m getting sick of it.”

She nodded, leaning into his chest, her mind spinning with thoughts she wasn’t ready to face. But deep down, she knew the truth wouldn’t stay buried for long.

—

12:11 AM

Jey, Trinity, and Jon sat in the living room on the couches, their expressions unreadable as Rhea stood at the center. Her hands fidgeted nervously at her sides, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. Jey’s piercing gaze didn’t leave her face, his silence urging her to speak.

“What I say here tonight,” Rhea began, her voice steady but heavy with emotion, “could get me thrown in jail for life.”

The room remained silent, the tension thick.

Rhea inhaled deeply before continuing, her eyes flicking between the three of them. “When I met Demetri, he was just a small-time drug dealer. He started taking me along on his runs, introducing me to his world. That’s when I first met Charles—his supplier.”

She paused, her voice faltering slightly. “At first, Charles was just a name to me. But he started noticing me, talking about how I could ‘tap into the wrestling world’ to expand their operations. I didn’t know what he meant at the time.”

Trinity interrupted, her voice sharp. “Wait—are you the reason we had to take drug tests every month from 2018 to 2022?”

Rhea’s face fell, and she nodded reluctantly. “Yes. I only dealt to Tegan and Bayley at first. They started sharing it with others on the roster, and it spread.”

Trinity leaned back, crossing her arms in disbelief. “Unreal…”

Rhea sighed, forcing herself to continue. “Once Charles realized how much money I was making, he had Demetri ‘train’ me.”

Jon’s brow furrowed. “Define ‘train.’”

“Let me finish,” Rhea said, holding up a hand. “Demetri taught me how to shoot—precisely. He called it ‘preparation,’ but I didn’t understand why at first. Then he talked to Morris about my aim, and Morris brought me on. That’s when I became The Black Mamba.”

Jon exchanged a wary glance with Jey, but neither interrupted.

“Demetri was Viper,” Rhea continued, her voice growing steadier. “His friends—Thomas was Cottonmouth, Adam was Copperhead, and Brent was Ball Python. Morris… Morris was our King Cobra.”

Trinity gasped softly, but Rhea pressed on.

“Me and Demetri would make monthly runs to Phoenix, moving product and completing jobs. We always got paid when we came back. It was good money, but…”

Trinity raised her hand again, this time more gently. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but why did Demetri start hitting you?”

Rhea’s expression darkened, her voice softening. “I made a pass at Dustin,” she admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor. “From that moment on, every time I tried to stand up for myself, Demetri would ‘correct’ me.”

Jon’s voice broke through the tension, his tone laced with anger and confusion. “Why would you even do this, Rhea? NXT pays well. I don’t see why you’d need to get involved in this kind of mess.”

Rhea hesitated, pain flashing in her eyes. “Because my mom got diagnosed with breast cancer,” she said, her voice breaking. “At first, I sent my salary to help with her treatment, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t getting by, so I kept doing it.”

Trinity’s face softened, but her voice remained firm. “So you did this… for four years? From 2018 to 2022?”

Rhea nodded, her shoulders slumping. “Yes. It’s what you do when you want to keep your mom alive.”

The group fell silent, the weight of her confession settling over them like a storm cloud.

After a moment, Jon urged her softly, “Go on.”

Rhea swallowed hard, her voice trembling slightly. “In 2021, Morris and I…” She paused, the words catching in her throat.

Jey’s voice cut through, low and steady. “Finish it, Rhea.”

Rhea exhaled shakily, her gaze locking with his. “In 2021, Morris and I made a pact. He promised to protect me from Charles and Demetri, but in return… I had to make sure certain shipments got through. Clean and untouched.”

Trinity’s eyes widened. “What kind of shipments?”

Rhea’s hands fidgeted again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Weapons. High-grade ones.”

The tension in the room thickened as Rhea's words hung in the air.

Jey's voice broke through the silence. "Anything other than weapons?"

Rhea exhaled heavily, her hands gripping the edge of the table, her fingers trembling. "Morris' personal shipments of his money," she said, each word weighed down with the gravity of the confession. "I had to make deposits in Switzerland. In total, I moved around... 800 million."

The room went still, the weight of what Rhea had just revealed sinking in. Jon's eyes widened.

Trinity blinked, her mouth slightly agape. Jey, however, stayed quiet, his jaw clenching as he absorbed the numbers.

"800 million?" Jon repeated, voice barely a whisper.

Rhea nodded, her gaze flickering around the room. "It wasn't just money. It was the logistics of it. I was a runner. But then, something went wrong."

She paused, gathering her thoughts.

"Morris was raided by the feds. I didn't know it at the time, but Demetri told me-and everyone else-that he had been named King Cobra," Rhea continued, her voice faltering. "But the truth is... I was actually supposed to be in charge. I never knew. I never got the chance."

Jon's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean you were supposed to be in charge?"

"Demetri stole from Charles," Rhea went on, her eyes flickering to the ground. "He killed him during one of our runs in Phoenix. Demetri took over everything. And then..." She looked up, her voice breaking. "You know what happened after that. I ended Demetri's life in May."

Jon leaned forward, pressing. "But you ended his lite because he sold you as a sex slave, right?"

Rhea's lips parted, but no words came out. The silence stretched painfully.

Jey, unable to hold his emotions any longer, shot up from his seat. "That's why those Polaroids said YOU LIED!" he snapped, his voice raw with fury.

Rhea struggled to find the words, her body tense as she shook her head. But before she could speak, Trinity stepped forward, her hand held out to Jey in a gesture of calm.

"Jey," Trinity said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You need to let her speak."

Jey stood frozen for a moment, chest heaving as his anger simmered just below the surface. He shot a glance at Rhea, his eyes filled with frustration, before finally sitting back down.

“I didn’t lie… I just saw a way out.” Rhea said.

Trinity looked at Rhea, her eyes soft but determined. "I know you have your brain injury, Rhea, but... what do you remember? What happened?"

Rhea exhaled slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ever since Titusville..." She paused, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I remember everything."

Jey's heart clenched at her words, but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

"The three men," Rhea continued, her voice cracking, "they were the ones that raped me. Thomas—he was the one that broke into the house in Titusville. But there's one thing I don't know..." Her voice trailed off, as if even speaking the words pained her. "I don't know who put them together. I thought it was Matt, but it wasn't."

Jon's expression hardened. "What do you mean, it wasn't Matt?"

Rhea's face twisted with confusion, her brow furrowed. "I don't know. I thought it was him. But the way everything happened... the way they were put together? It wasn't Matt. I don't know who it was. But they had been planned, had been brought to me... to us."

The room was eerily quiet, everyone processing the enormity of what Rhea had just revealed.

Jey's fists clenched at his sides as the implications of her words washed over him. His heart twisted at the thought of her pain-of all that she had endured without him knowing.

Rhea wiped her face with her sleeve, tears freely falling now. "I never wanted to bring this up. I thought I could protect you. I didn't want you to see me like this... broken. But I don't know who to trust anymore. I don't know who I'm dealing with."

Jey's voice softened, a mixture of concern and pain. "We'll find out, Rhea. We'll find out who's behind all of this. And we'll take care of it."

Rhea looked at Jey, a mix of uncertainty and relief in her eyes. “You’re not mad?” she asked, her voice emitting worry.

Jey studied her for a long moment before responding, his tone even but serious. “Is this the last time? No more surprises?” He paused, looking at her closely. “Cause you speaking Polish threw me off.”

Jon and Trinity, who had been silent until now, exchanged confused glances. “Polish?” they both asked in unison, their eyebrows raised in surprise.

Rhea sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. She glanced at them before answering, her voice carrying the weight of years of hidden truths. “I speak it fluently,” she said, a hint of frustration in her voice as if the revelation had somehow exhausted her.

Jey, still processing everything, leaned in and kissed her gently, his hands cupping her face. “Whatever happens, we will stay together,” he said, his words firm but full of emotion. “Jeremiah, Jesse, and Jeremy will stay here as long as they need to.”

Rhea nodded, her breath catching as she held him tighter, grateful for his reassurance. Their hug lingered, a moment of comfort in the midst of the chaos.

Trinity, breaking the silence, spoke up, her voice casual yet probing. “I mean… what happened to Demetri’s brother, Dustin?”

Rhea’s gaze shifted to Trinity, her expression hardening slightly as the memories flooded back. “He went with his girlfriend, Valerie, to Texas after everything,” she explained, her voice cold and distant.

Trinity nodded, her face thoughtful. “Well, that crosses him off the list,” she said, as if putting a mental mark on Dustin’s name.

Rhea exhaled, the weight of everything she had been carrying now more apparent. “Yeah, but there’s still so much left to figure out,” she murmured, her mind racing through the tangled web of lies and betrayal.

Jey rubbed her back comfortingly. “We’ll figure it out,” he said with quiet determination, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice too.

Trinity raised an eyebrow, looking between the two. “I think we need to keep a closer eye on things. We can’t let anyone slip through the cracks.”

Rhea nodded slowly, her resolve hardening. “We can’t afford to trust anyone anymore.” She looked at Jey, her eyes softening. “But with you… with all of you… I think we stand a chance.”

—

8:11 AM March 8th, 2025

Somewhere outside of Raleigh, NC, Morris sat in the back of his SUV, his mind racing with thoughts of the past and present. The world that he had carefully crafted around him, the empire built on fear and bloodshed, was suddenly feeling fragile.

The hum of the engine and the quiet of the morning did little to settle the unease gnawing at him.

Instead of his trusted bodyguard, Ken, it was Brandon, another bodyguard that use protect Charles. Brandon's eyes flickered nervously in the rearview mirror, his grip on the steering wheel tighter than usual. The silence in the car felt heavy, like something was about to break.

Brandon suddenly pulled over into the agreed upon gas station. The engine cut off, and the headlights cast long shadows across the empty parking lot despite the sun gleaming. Brandon unlocked the doors to the SUV.

He turned to Morris with a look of guilt in his eyes.

Morris raised an eyebrow, his irritation rising.

"Why'd you pull over?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Brandon hesitated, swallowing hard before responding. "I'm sorry, boss."

Before Morris could react, the door on the opposite side of the SUV opened silently. A figure in dark clothing stepped inside, moving with calculated precision. In one fluid motion, the figure produced a cheese slicer, its blade glinting under the dim light.

Morris' eyes widened in shock, but there was no time to react. The blade was pressed to his throat, cutting deep, swift, and lethal. His body went limp, blood pooling beneath him. The once-feared drug lord of Orlando, FL, was now nothing more than a lifeless corpse.

The figure stood over Morris' body, their eyes cold and unreadable. They turned their gaze to Brandon, who was frozen in shock, his face pale.

"Let's start, shall we?" the figure said, their voice calm, almost detached. The words carried a chilling finality.

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thedvilsinthedetails · 11 months ago

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rosekiller band au microfic pt2

yayyy part 2 is here! (Again if there’s any typos lmk ty)

(also yeah I changed their ages slightly, the skittles r now 23 not 25 what r u gonna do about it?)

anywayssss here’s the ppl that asked to be tagged/said they wanted more so im tagging them anyway (sorry if u didn’t want that): @always-reading @lady-stardust-incarnate @lulublack90 @idk-what-to-put-here-123 @weirdtinkerbellversion @depressedtheatrekiddo @blu3stars @nikholascrow @good-oldfashioned-lover-girl @picklerab23

(As always if u wanna be tagged or not tagged pls lmk I won’t mind at all <3)

Link to Part One

Link to Next Part

***

Evan woke up the next morning to the harsh bleep of his phone that always managed to elicit pure terror in his body. He groaned and rolled out of bed. He’d forgotten to turn off the alarm and of course he was awake at six in the fucking morning on a Saturday.

He threw on a dressing gown over his tank top and plaid pyjama bottoms, slipped into his fluffy slippers and trudged to the kitchen for some coffee.

Once he got to the kitchen he saw Dorcas was already sat at the little island she passed him a warm cup of coffee as soon as he sat down. Dorcas had always been the earliest riser of the band, always eager to get ready quickly and get the hell out of the house, he supposed that’s what growing up as the eldest sister to four brothers did to you.

“Heard your alarm go off, figured you’d forgot to turn it off.”

“Dorcas you lifesaver. And I mean seriously a lifesaver, I might have murdered someone without this coffee.”

Dorcas laughed.

“Who?”

Evan rubbed his eyes.

“Barty probably. He’s fucking annoying.”

“Any excuse to get up close to him then more like.”

Evan’s head snapped up.

“What?”

Dorcas rolled her eyes.

“Please you’re shit at hiding it.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout Cas.”

Evan mumbled, taking a long drink from his mug.

“Please, save the crap. If you don’t have a crush on him, why do you get so worked up by people calling you a couple. It consumes your every waking thought, now why is that? Tell me.”

“Ughhh I don’t want to think about it.”

He groaned and stared into the brown murky depths of the mug he was cradling close to him.

Dorcas softened.

“Look, Marls and Barty are really close, our next tour stop is London which means she’ll obviously drop by rehearsals. I can get her to ask him if he-“

“He doesn’t.”

Evan ran his thumb over a tiny chip in the ceramic. It was a mug Barty had painted around four years ago, Dora had decided for her sixteenth she wanted to go to a pottery painting place like when they were little. Barty was- honestly pretty shit at painting. The background was covered in vast uneven strokes of black. He’d tried to paint a white ferret on it - ‘Ev this one is for you, if you were any animal I’d say you’d be a ferret.’ - thing is it looked more like a snake with legs that was also, well, a zombie. It was Evan’s most prized possession. He’d be taking it to the grave. He turned it to look inside the handle. Barty had been too lazy to paint that part so instead he’d just written crudely with the brush - ‘B + E forever bitches!’. His eyes crinkled fondly as he read it.

“I just need to get over it.”

His expression hardened and he looked up at Dorcas again.

“Get over what?”

They both turned to find Barty in the doorway. His hair was sticking up in all directions. Fuzzy spikes of green and black. He stretched his arms all the way up as he yawned, flexing his wrist so his ‘SKITTLES’ tattoo was on full display. He had one of Evan’s jumpers on over his pyjama top. Evan really wanted to reach out and hold. Why’d he have to go and look so soft? Wasn’t fucking fair.

“Nothing Jr.”

Barty nodded in response as he padded over and sat himself in the chair next to Evan.

“Why’re you even awake?”

Dorcas asked.

Barty dropped his head down onto the island counter dramatically.

“Forgot to turn off my alarm.”

Dorcas laughed out loud, fully threw her head back and everything.

“Two birds of a fucking stupid feather you two are.”

She got up and put her mug in the sink before heading out of the kitchen. Barty turned his head up to look at Evan as soon as she was gone.

“You don’t have to tell me anything Evan, but if you want to you can. You know that right?”

Barty lifted his head and propped it up on his hand as Evan nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah I know Barty.”

“Good.”

Barty shuffled his chair closer before dropping his head onto Evan’s shoulder and falling quiet. It was instinctual, the way Evan brought his arms up around him. After a few moments he looked down though, Barty was suspiciously silent.

“Bee?”

He whispered.

“M’awake. You’re just comfy Ev. You’re really good at hugs.”

Might be ‘cause I was built to hold you.

Damn that’s a fucking stupid thing to say. Fuck I’ve turned into Reg whenever he’s around James.

Yeah Evan needed to get over this like fucking yesterday.

•••

Barty breathed in deeply, face buried in the crux of Evan’s neck. He couldn’t help it really. Evan smelled like home. Probably a creepy thing to say, oh well wasn’t like he said it out loud. Evan was home though, plain and simple.

He didn’t want to move, probably ever. Still eventually as the rest of the group came pattering into the kitchen and things got livelier he had to shift away.

•••

They got on the train at noon, ready to head to London. Evan took the window seat watching as the city turned to rolling hills turned to city again. Barty kept sneaking glances over at him, wasn’t really sure what he was looking for honestly but-

“What?”

Evan asked finally, tone irritated.

“Nothing, just bored.”

“Oh um-“

Evan glanced around, he and Barty were in a two seater while the rest of the band sat around the table in front of them, chatting animatedly.

“S’fine Ev, not anything you can do about it, I’m gonna be bored till we get off this bloody train. Fucking buzzing.”

“Excited for tomorrow then yeah?”

Barty turned to him with shining eyes.

“D’you remember when we were eighteen? First time at the O2 for a concert? Fuck d’you remember seeing it like that, covered in all the lights ‘n shit. Eventim Apollo doesn’t even compare.”

Evan chuckled. They’d gone to the O2 for the first time June 2019 to see a concert when Evan was still in his backstreet boys phase, something no one was allowed to talk about now under any circumstances.

“D’you remember what you said to me?”

•••

“Look at that stage Ev. Imagine playing there. For all these people.”

Evan turned to Barty and ruffled his hair.

“One day Bee, we’ll be playing here. I promise you yeah? We’ll be playing here and it’ll all the fucking sold out.”

“You think?”

•••

“Yeah. Yeah I do.”

***

AHHH I HOPE U LIKED ITTTT (idk when part 3 will be coming but hopefully soon <333333)

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5-puthyyy · 4 days ago

Text

The Apprentice (Agatha x Rio x Reader) - Chapter 8

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary:

Life has been about survival for you ever since your coven banished you for the simplest thing: desire. Since then, you've travelled from Inn to Inn, making ends meet, until you sense a powerful Magick presence coming from two mysterious women. They take you in as their apprentice and you end up learning far more than what you came for...

CHAPTER WARNINGS! -- (18+ ONLY) SEXUAL CONTENT

A/N -- this chapter is a quick 2.6k words of pure smut as a xmas gift <3 merry christmas y'all 🎄

Ch.1 ~ Ch.2 ~ Ch.3 ~ Ch.4 ~ Ch.5 ~ Ch.6 ~ Ch.7 ~ Ch.8 ~ Ch.9

The soft sound of breathing is what you finally wake up to. It’s dead silent other than that; even the birds seem to be staying away to avoid the consequences of disrupting the sleep of three exhausted witches. When you do slowly stir awake, the first thing you notice is how warm you are. It’s comforting being stuck in an embrace like this, a body pressed to your back and another to your front.

Strong arms have pulled you in, protective and possessive by nature. Another body is against your front, her arm draped over your side, and despite the warmth you can feel hard, peaked buds pressed against your own chest. It causes a shiver to run down your spine and her arm just holds you closer in reaction.

Finally blinking your eyes open, they land on Agatha’s peacefully sleeping face. Her lips are just slightly parted as she breathes evenly, her brows free of that deep furrow you’ve seen more often than you’d like to see. You’re close enough to count every eyelash and you’d happily do so if it meant being stuck like this forever.

“Mmm,” Rio hums from behind you, seemingly waking up from her sleep too.

Reality begins to set in for you and you go still as you recall your night with them. It all happened so fast. There are far too many questions that need answering and all of them start running through your mind so fast you can’t catch them all. Your breath hitches as you feel that familiar panic begin to settle in your chest, the pit of your stomach suddenly tightening.

“None of that,” Rio grumbles sensing your sudden dilemma. She pulls you in deeper, taking a long, deep breath as she buries her face into the side of your neck.

There isn’t room to argue in her tone, that being clear despite how mumbly she is, but it doesn’t stop you from pouting and shaking your head to yourself. “God, I–I was meant to tame my desires, not let them take over me like some–some kind of–”

Rio grunts this time, nipping at your neck in warning. “Stop it. You’ll wake Agatha with your woe-is-me monologue.”

“Hey!” you huff in annoyance, shuffling to try to glare at her over your shoulder, but she’s too strong and you’re too trapped.

Rio hums again, but this time it’s deeper, more gravely as she shifts her hips up. “Feels good,” she mumbles, sighing into your neck. It’s then that it hits you that she’s nude too, her lower half pressed against the curve of your ass. You can feel her, warm and slick against your skin, already wet with anticipation. The realisation makes you whimper softly, rolling your hips back, dragging out a well-earned, “Fuck,” from Rio’s lips.

She grunts that needy, animalistic sound again, clearer than before, as she forces the sleepiness away to focus on the pleasure taking over. Rio thought she could get away with it, grinding her hips against you like a rabid animal, but the movements stirred Agatha awake. You freeze, not sure what you’re expecting as a reaction from her. But her eyes flutter open, those blues so beautifully bright in the mornings. You fixate on her with your own eyes open wide, taking her in and letting that light into your soul. God, she’s beyond captivating.

“Good morning, little dove. Sleep well?” she husks, her voice deep with sleep. The sound has you whimpering again, needing to lean forward and bury your face in her neck, taking a deep sniff of her sweet scent. Agatha simply chuckles, warm and comforting as she rests her hand on the back of your head. Her eyes clearly catch Rio though whose grunts have turned into quick pants as she selfishly chases her high. “Oh, good morning to you, too, my love,” Agatha teases, biting her lower lip as Rio groans at the sound of her lover’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter into Agatha’s neck, words incoherent, but she understands your tone and shushes you.

“Oh, it’s not your fault. Rio has a high libido,” Agatha jokes, knowing that’s not the reason you’re apologising, but it’s reassuring even if it’s a deflection from the issue at hand. You do need to talk about this, about last night – and clearly about what’s inevitably going to be happening this morning.

Before you can conjure up another word of protest, Rio’s hand sneaks around your waist and slithers down until she’s pressing against your already wet centre. You gasp right in Agatha’s neck, teeth accidentally grazing her neck. The act has her gasping though, her fingers gripping your hair tightly, eliciting a pathetically desperate sound out of you.

“Don’t give me that look,” Rio groans in complaint from behind you, the sound equally as desperate as yours, “You have another one in you,” Rio adds.

Agatha sighs, lazily rolling her hips against your thigh which you hadn’t realised has slotted between her legs. “Ugh, I woke too early,” she grumbles, clearly not a morning person. But pleasure quickly fogs her mind, hiding those thoughts away until all she can think about is the heat between her legs.

You can do nothing but stay still and let them use you as Rio continues grinding against the curve of your ass while Agatha rolls her hips against your thigh. It feels wet all over, the sensation driving you insane; you’re overcome with a need to touch and take that opportunity when you catch sight of Agatha’s marked neck again. Rushing in, you immediately suck at the skin harshly, mixing your kisses with a brush of your tongue to soothe her.

“Oh, yes,” Agatha hisses at the sensation, her moan slipping out directly into your ear. You groan into her neck, biting down as your hand grips her hips to guide her down harder, faster, wanting to make her come as fast as you can.

Rio whines behind you, attempting to hide her sounds of pleasure with a bite to your shoulder which has already been marked excessively by her. She adds another claim, and another, until she’s satisfied with her work. Your own needs become apparent as she suddenly starts moving her fingers again, sinking them lower through your folds.

“Yes, right there, please,” you gasp, your hand slipping from Agatha’s waist to grip Rio’s wrist, refusing to lose it.

Rio moans at your easy pleading, moving her hips faster as she reaches closer to her release. But as her eyes drift shut, Agatha snaps her fingers forcing them back open. She reaches over you, her hand gripping Rio’s neck as the latter gasps at the contact.

“Are you forgetting the rules?” Agatha states, not asks, “Not before me,” she practically hisses as she reminds Rio who grunts in annoyance. But you feel her slow down behind you, clearly obeying Agatha’s command. Her painful whimpering tugs at your heart though, so you immediately sneak your hand to the mess between Agatha’s legs, a thumb to her clit. “Y/N,” Agatha breathes your name out in surprise, clutching Rio’s neck tighter in response. Her blue eyes flutter shut as she begins to rock her hips, already flushed in the cheeks.

It’s impossible to tear your gaze away from her, captivated by how wild but free she looks like this. Her dark curls are nest-like in the mornings, untouched still. You bury your face in her neck, nuzzling until you feel her soft hair against your cheek, all while feeding that need between her legs. Your fingers stay persistent in their brutal pace, circling over her clit as fast as they can go.

“You’re so pretty,” you mumble innocently into her neck, kissing it tenderly. Her hand’s suddenly gripping your biceps as she freezes, choking on her breath. You coax it out of her, letting her cling to you as she topples over the edge, but your own ache amplifies, hitting your core at full force at the intoxicating moan she pants into your ear. It’s so intimate being this close, feeling her orgasm, the pulse between her legs, the way her legs twitch and how she convulses with each wave.

Seconds later, Rio’s panting and growling behind you, needing more friction than what your body is offering. She grabs your hand away from Agatha and forces it behind you between her legs instead. It’s an awkward angle but you gladly let her use you when your fingers finally meet her cunt and feel just how soaked she is.

“Fuck, Rio,” you groan in disbelief, twisting your head back enough for her to come forward and bite your lower lip. She doesn’t kiss you, just holds you that way, grinding her wet heat into your hand, and her wild brown eyes lock onto yours. It’s an intense stare – as all of hers are if you’re being honest – and you submit, matching her with your own raw gaze.

The whimper she lets out as she finally comes is a vulnerable sound, one that can only come with a look in her eyes that communicates trust. She trembles against your hand, hips twitching from sensitivity as you brush over her clit again and again until she practically yanks your hand away.

The three of you lay there for a moment as you all catch your breath, shifting until you’re all on your backs. For a moment you begin to think they had forgotten about you, the desperate ache between your legs still being ignored, but Agatha lets a soft sigh, the type that’s loaded with something else, something powerful, teasing, something that promises euphoria.

She twists until her thigh is draped over yours, and her face is suddenly close, her flowery scent invading your lungs. A hot tongue slides up your neck to your ear, teeth nipping playfully before she whispers, “Where would you like my tongue?”

The simple words elicit a strong reaction out of you, your blood pumping loudly in your ears as you whimper, hips writhing under Rio’s touch. The brown-eyed witch has snuck her hand to your abdomen, keeping you still, and while it frustrates you it also adds fuel to the fire between your legs. The show of strength and subtle flex of her bicep as she does so has you whimpering again, whines getting caught in your throat before they can escape.

“No holding back,” Rio warns with a wicked smile, kissing down your chest until she reaches your flushed breasts. With one last teasing smirk, she latches onto one, the act devastatingly pleasurable. You can’t deal with more teasing, not after what you just did for them. Making them both come like that against you has left you far too desperate, your body trembling for release, almost fever-like as you shake your head with a pout. There is only one cure for this fever.

“My cunt,” you plead, telling Agatha exactly where you want her to bury her tongue, your request vulnerable and unguarded, “Please, I need you, Agatha.”

She turns stiff at your request and the pure want dripping out of your tone. It takes her a moment to come to her senses, then latching her mouth to yours like she’s been starved. It’s shameless the way you moan immediately into her lips, opening your mouth to let her smooth tongue in. She swipes at every surface like she’s trying to memorise it, map out your insides so she can never forget.

“Fuck,” you pull back to let out a gasp as Rio’s teeth scrape against your nipple, paired with her fingers slipping through your folds playing a song of pleasure.

Rio looks up at you radiating power, her eyes flashing green in a moment of weakness, losing her self-control when she sees the fire in your eyes, the rose tinting your cheeks, your lips so plump and swollen from Agatha’s harsh kisses. Agatha’s impatient though, dragging you by the hair roughly to kiss you again; it seems she’s just as obsessed with your lips as you are with hers, moaning into the kiss as her hands wander down your body.

You’re pliant to their touches, keeping your legs spread wide as Rio’s thumb presses against your clit but remains unmoving, telling you to roll against her instead. You do just that, panting into Agatha’s parted lips as she scratches down your body until she can slap Rio’s hand away. Within seconds, Agatha’s crawled down, now positioned between your thighs. Rio’s right by you, her hand on your thigh, gripping, digging, holding you as wide open as her eyes.

Agatha gasps at the mess between your legs. “So needy,” she slurs out, as if drunken from one inhale. She leans in to lick at the slick coating your inner thigh and you squirm under the touch, needing it badly. “What do you need, little dove?” Agatha asks again, her voice hoarse with desire and filled with teasing confidence.

You groan as she lays a tender kiss on the patch of hair above your aching, glistening lips. “I need your mouth on me,” you plead as you lean your head back and arch into her.

Agatha chuckles lowly against your skin, nipping playfully. “It is on you.”

The groan you let out is downright filthy, dripping with the need to be devoured. Forcing your heavy head back forward, you lock eyes with her, intense, fiery, and firm in your desires. “I need you inside me.”

The growl that escapes Agatha is feral, a sudden determination in her eyes to devour you until all you can say is her name. She gives no verbal response but that, wrapping her hands around your thighs before diving in. Her tongue is like velvet, smoothly sliding through your folds with a controlled determination. Your whole body reacts to her, toes curling, back arching, thighs twitching. She holds you in place as Rio’s kisses travel to your chest, littering your skin with marks.

The sensation is overwhelming. Rio’s rough but Agatha, God, she’s so controlled but still overstimulating. It’s slow strokes that hit the exact right spots, and a curl of her tongue, a flick over your clit at the exact right moment. Your hands fly down to grip her wild hair and you can feel her grinning wickedly against your cunt as you tug and tug, begging for something. For mercy, for more, for less, God, you’re just begging for her. The rhythm she sets is maddeningly slow, her tongue poking at your entrance gently until it slides in, completely sheathed in you.

“Yes,” you hiss, raking your nails over her shoulders. Hunger takes over her as she growls into your cunt, wet and primal; her tongue fucks into you greedily, nails digging into your smooth ass as she tugs you closer to her. You can only last another minute like this before your ankles lock her in behind her back, gasping, whining, writhing as you reach your climax.

“That’s it, baby,” Rio soothes, tongue circling your nipple before sucking it in, “Come for us,” she demands and you give, all you can do is give with a hand to Agatha’s head and the other gripping Rio’s locks. They stay where they are, letting you ride your climax until all you feel is feathery bliss.

As Agatha slides her tongue out, you let out a whimper. She refuses to take that as a warning of sensitivity, instead lapping at you refusing to let a drop go to waste. When she sits up, she gently guides you until you’re flipped over, pulling at your legs until your ass is up for her, back arched down. As Rio manoeuvres in front of you, spreading her legs open to welcome you in, Agatha’s fingertips press to your soaked entrance, and you think maybe you can push back the talk you need to have. This is far more important.

masterlist + guidelines

#agatha all along #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness fic #agatha x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x rio vidal smut #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x reader smut #agatha harkness fanfiction #agathario x reader #agathario #agathario x reader smut #rio vidal x reader smut #rio vial x reader #rio vidal x agatha harkness

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