#I want to see this moment - but even if we don’t

[zeltqz]

PICS & VIDEOS — caleb

✈︎ content warning | references hidden waves memory (sick caleb), phone sex, i made tara a freak cuz why not, simone hates caleb lol, suggestive texts, lingerie photos, caleb sends a dp, reader sends her wet fingers lol, no actual sex yet, just phone sex, sexually frustrated reader, caleb whimpers cuz i want him to, colonel caleb era, caleb abuses emoticons lol i love him ✈︎ synopsis | you are getting sick and tired of caleb always pulling away from potential kisses. frustrated, you take it up with your friends who give you advice on how to get him to fold. send him pics.

“I’m telling you Tara, he literally won’t make the first move. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

Tara rubbed her chin. “Hm. And you’re sure he likes you?”

Beside you, Simone scoffed. “Unfortunately yes. It’s obvious.”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to address her one-sided beef with Caleb. “Yes, Tara.”

“How is it obvious? I only met him once.”

“And you couldn’t see how obvious it was?” Simone added, genuinely surprised Tara missed the obvious clues. “He wouldn’t stop staring at her like all day. The whole time we ate, he was just staring at her. Not even subtle too. I would’ve thought you two kissed by now, or at the very least fucked.” Simone looked at you now. “Seriously, why don’t you just make the first move?”

“I dunno?! It’s weird…and as much as I dream about just grabbing his face and kissing him, in the moment I just chicken out…”

Tara hummed, stroking her chin again. “I see. I see. And you know for certain he likes you? Besides the staring, and all.”

You nodded. “Yeah.” You looked down at the table, at the fries sitting on your tray, reminiscing about the last time you were in Skyhaven. 

Caleb had caught a cold from standing in the rain for too long, and the two of you were on awkward terms after an argument. He didn’t want you to see him while sick but eventually relented and let you inside his room. You checked his temperature and he was burning up, so you didn’t want to take your hands off his face, caressing his red cheeks, embracing his warmth. You sang for him, and he leaned in, and you just knew it’d finally be the moment you kissed. You even closed your eyes shut, waiting to feel his lips against yours, but he pulled himself away and turned to the side. Obviously you were frustrated, no denying that, and you were about to just leave his room before he pulled you in for a hug. Though you didn’t kiss, the hug was more intimate than you’d imagined. Every time Caleb was sick, even in the past, he rarely let you see him in that state. To see him so weak and vulnerable, unable to stop coughing, his red cheeks and ears. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to just be with him.

You were unaware of how long you were just staring off into space as you recalled the memory from a few weeks ago. Tara and Simone share a look with each other. 

“Um, hello?” Simone waved in front of your face. You blinked yourself back to reality and looked between the both of them. Simone got a good look at your face and clicked her tongue. “You’re so whipped.”

“I’m not!”

Tara cheered. “Wait, were you thinking about him?!” She questioned, and your face flushed even harder. You looked away, and she cheered even louder. “Tell me what you were thinking about!”

Simone, who’d rather die than admit she was curious, rested her elbow on the table, cheek in palm as she turned to look at you, waiting for the explanation.

You sighed and told them the story in extreme detail about your last encounter with Caleb in Skyhaven. Though it started on bad terms, the two of you had been even closer than before. You text every single day whenever he can respond, and when he’s unable to come to the phone, you always spam him with funny videos, and emojis. And he responds to every single one of them. You two fall asleep on the phone almost every night, if he doesn’t come home too late from work, and wake up to see either him still dead asleep, or the call being cut, but he always follows it up with:

Sorry for hanging up, i had to head to work ;-; ill text you as soon as i come back :D 

You hadn’t spoken to him in the last few days though, as he was leading a team to explore the Deepspace Tunnel and would be out of service for at least 5 days. It’s only day 3 and you’ve been missing him so much, it’s crazy. He’s what you think of when you fall asleep, and wake up. You’re not even safe from him in your dreams.

“I’ve got a question,” Tara says, raising her hand up.

“Proceed.” You gesture for her to continue.

She leaned in across the table, cupping her hand around her mouth. “Can I be the maid of honour at your wedding?”

“TARA!” you exclaim. Simone nearly snorts her milkshake up her nose at your reaction. The two of them start laughing and you chuckle a bit yourself. They continue talking and you whip out your phone to open your messages with Caleb, eying the message you sent him this morning.

08:44 I just woke upppp. I’m heading to lunch with some friends today!!! I’ll send you some photos you can salvate over once u get back

You swipe to the camera and snap a photo of your half eaten burger with fries, sending it in chat with a yummy emoji.

13:33 Bet u wish this was u huhhhhhhhhhhh

You throw the fact he has to be on a strict diet in his face, adding a few random emojis before turning off your phone. 

“She was texting him just now,” Simone’s voice startled you. 

“No I wasn’t.”

���Look at that grin on your face.”

You quickly drop the smile you didn’t know existed off your face. “I’m not grinning!”

“You so are!” Simone cackled, leaning into your personal space, eyeing your phone. “Show me what you said.”

“It’s not much,” you say, turning your phone back on. “Just send him a picture of my food.”

Simone looked at the one sided replies, how you’ve been spamming him with messages for the last three days and he hasn’t been online since. She raised an eyebrow.

“Uh, is he ghosting you?”

“What? No.” You take your phone back and hand it to Tara who was struggling to see from the other side of the table. “He’s just on a mission right now. Five days long. I always spam him with he’s unavailable. He says I can tell him whatever is on my mind.”

“Mm-hm,” Simone hummed.

“You know what would be so crazy?” Tara said, scrolling through your messages. 

“What?” you and Simone say in unison.

“If you sent him nudes.”

You nearly choked on air, Simone’s eyes widening at the words coming out of Tara’s mouth. 

“It’s always the innocent looking ones, huh.”

Tara giggled. Meanwhile you were still in a state of shock. 

“Um??? Isn’t that a bit far?”

“Well, no,” Tara defended. “Think about it. You two are basically dating already, just haven’t made it official. And you said you want him to make the first move right? How will he know if its okay to do or not if he doesn’t know you are just as into him as he’s into you? And since you don’t wanna kiss him first, show him you’re into him at least with a few picturesssssss.”

On the surface she wasn’t wrong, you couldn’t deny that. Growing up, Caleb had seen your body before, it wasn’t unusual. Beach days where you were mainly in bikinis, heatwaves where you were wearing mainly shorts and crop tops. He’d even walked in on you changing a few times, and vice versa. It wouldn’t be anything he hadn’t vaguely seen before. But the thought of actually doing it make a knot form in your stomach. But it also made arousal pool between your legs at the thought of him seeing you in a different light.

Maybe this would be the transition you both needed to take your relationship to a different level.

You finally spoke after a while of contemplation. “I mean, sure. But I’ve never taken any before. I don’t even own sexy clothes.”

Simone waved you off. “It’s not that hard. Men are so easy to please. I got you.” She finished her milkshake in a few sucks and set the empty cup down on the table. “Come on, let’s go shopping.”

“Shopping?” you questioned.

Tara squealed. “Shopping, yes!” She quickly got up from her seat and dragged you out of yours. 

Tara and Simone led you out of the food court  and into Victoria’s Secret a few floors down. The three of you spent the next two hours picking different outfits, ranging from two piece sets, to one pieces, bralettes and panties. You ended up spending more than you thought you would’ve but it was all worth it. 

You took them back to your house and the photoshoot began. Was it awkward at first? Yes. You barely wore tight fitted, revealing outfits, especially ones as sexual as this. But after a few test photos, your body loosened up and you gradually became more confident. 

“Press your boobs together,” Tara shouted from behind the camera. You were laying flat on your back, your head hanging off the bed as you stared into the camera. 

“This position looks silly,” you comment. 

“You look smoking hot though!!”

Simone moves behind Tara and bends down to peek at the camera. She wrinkled her nose. “I agree. It looks a bit silly.”

You sat up, sighing. “Thank you.”

“Okay wait, what about sucking a finger into your mouth? Would Caleb be into that? Ooh! Or arching your back on the bed?” The longer you spent with Tara today, you realised she’s not as innocent as she looks. She really is the mastermind behind the operation. From picking out each lingerie set, to looking up seductive posts on Pinterest to make you copy. 

“Are the ones we took now not enough?” you asked, muscles and back aching from bending over and twisting your body in such unnecessary positions. 

“If you’re this tired after some nudes, how are you gonna get the stamina to get fucked hard by Caleb?” Tara retorted. 

“I—”

Simone grabbed the phone and began scrolling through the photos. She picked out one she really liked and turned the phone to you. “This is the one you should send.”

It wasn’t any of the over the top poses Tara suggested. It was plain and simple but it got the job done. You were laying flat on the bed, holding the camera up in the form of a selfie, and biting your fingernail. The camera covered everything from your lips, down to your mid thigh, covered in fishnets from the lingerie.  

“This one? Really?” you asked as you examined the photo. You weren’t denying you looked hot in it, but doubts were starting to fill your mind. What if he thinks you’re being desperate? Or if he thinks it’s distasteful to expose yourself like this for no reason. Though you know Caleb would never think of you that way, your brain can’t help but convince you otherwise. 

“Or or maybe I should just delete them,” you request in a panic as Tara and Simone go through all the photos to see if there’s any better ones. 

Upon hearing your request, Tara nearly breaks her neck with how quickly she looked up. “ExCUZE ME?! Delete them?! For what???! Why!”

“Because! What if he doesn’t like them? Or thinks I’m…desperate?” You scratch your arm, looking down at your thighs. 

Simone’s nose twitched. “Then I’ll beat his ass.”

Tara added. “Well, it’ll suck if he does. But with how you described him, I don’t think he’d look at you that way. And if he does, you can always just say “oops meant to send to someone else” to save face. OH! We can even do the prank where we dress up as a boy and take photos to make him jealous!”

Hearing that, Simone smirked. “I’ll happily do that for you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No you’re right. Caleb wouldn’t do that. He’s never as much belittled me or even insulted me before in my life. I genuinely cant think of a negative think he’s said to me.”

“Soooooooo what’s the holdup?” Tara commented. 

You shrugged. “I’ll send it. I just need time to process before I do it.” They both deadpanned you and you continued, feeling the urge to defend yourself. “You guys won’t understand! I’ve known him for over a decade! Almost 14 years! This kinda stuff you don’t send to someone like that without at least thinking it through.”

“You’re right,” they both hesitantly agreed. 

You don’t end up sending Caleb the picture that night. Or the night after that. The day he’s supposed to return from his mission, you’re in bed, scrolling back through your messages. With no fault of yours, you had gone months without contact with him, assuming he was dead and all, but now you can barely even handle a few days. 

His profile displayed a green dot beside his name and you sat up quickly, eyes darting all over your messages and seeing the “Read” Message pop up on each one. 

He responds to each of them one by one, and your smile can’t stop growing as you see him reach the final message, the one about the burger. 

Now you’re just showing off >:( 

Anyway I’m back safe and sound from my mission did ya miss me ;)

yes so much

You responded without missing more than a second. 

Oh didn’t expect you respond that quickly you MUSTVE missed me that bad huh

How much did u miss me? 

You could tell him straight up. Tell him about how you read his messages everyday, thought about him almost every second for the last five days. Or you could just show him. 

You opened your camera roll and picked out the photo. Your thumb trembled over the send button before finally pressing down on it. Your stomach dropped as you saw it send in chat officially. It was too late now. 

Caleb read it and stayed quiet. Thirty seconds passed and he didn’t respond and you felt like you wanted to throw up. Your thumbs were already typing out Tara’s excuse: oh sorry! I meant to send that to someone else 

And before you could press send, Caleb responded. 

Is that for me?

You swallowed. If you said yes, and he hated it, then your excuse wouldn’t work anymore. You decided to risk it all and simply respond truthfully. 

Yes. Is it…bad?

Caleb takes longer to respond than usual and less than thirty seconds later a picture sends in chat. His cock stands tall in frame, precum leaking out from the tip. His hand has a firm grin around the base off it, the tip a reddish hue in comparison to its natural pink colour.

Your breathing stopped as you stared at it. This was Caleb’s dick. You were fucking staring at his dick. 

You swiped out of the picture and sent a 😧😯😮😲 combination. The two of you often communicated through emojis and you weren’t sure how to respond with words. 

Caleb sent crying emojis. 

Did you like it?

Yes? You’ve been hiding that the whole time? 

Says you. I knew your body was gorgeous but fuck. 

You fought the urge to kick your feet together, curling into a ball on your side as you tried to not let his words get to you. Clearing your throat, you refocus yourself and send another message. 

Sooooo what now 🧍‍♀️

I dunno 🧍

You get ready to type a response before he double texts. 

Do you wanna call?

You never thought you’d see the day you’d actually be nervous answering a call from Caleb before. 

Yes

You barely had time to let the message marinate before Caleb started calling. Readying yourself, you pressed the phone up to your ear and swiped. 

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he responded, taking a deep breath. “Is it just me or is this sorta awkward now.”

“No it’s definitely awkward,” you joked, laughing under your breath. 

“I mean, I can always blame you for it.”

“What?” You almost shrieked and broke your back with how quick you sat up from your bed. “How is this my fault?!”

“Nobody asked you to send me that sexy photo out of nowhere,” he joked, tone light despite his words. You didn’t take anything to heart however. 

“Yeah, well be grateful. Otherwise you would’ve died without seeing a girl in lingerie before.”

“How do you know I haven’t seen that before?”

“Because I know you, Caleb.” You said each word slowly. “Or at least I hope you haven’t.” You paused, voice softening ever so slightly. “Have you?”

“I was joking around. Of course I hadn’t. I am assuming though you’d never seen another guys dick before?”

“Well obviously I have. Like in movies and stuff. But not in person.”

“What kind of movies were you watching?” he questioned, suspiciously. 

“You know! Just movies! Shut up,” you whined, ignoring his obnoxious laughter. “Anyway, dudes sent me unsolicited pics in college all the time. I’ve seen dicks before. They weren’t like yours though.” The words spilled from your mouth without even realising you said it. 

“Oh? What’s the difference between mine and theirs?”

You didn’t realise the interest in his tone with how distracted you were, eyes closed and picturing the sight of Caleb’s dick in the black fog of your mind. You could always go back and look at the photo, but you wanted to burn the sight in your memory first. 

“Yours was bigger. And for once, looking at a dick didn’t make me wanna throw up. Theirs were so…ew. Like it was never hard, which is so fucking offensive. If you’re gonna send me that shit unsolicited by the way, at least sprout a hard on or something. Fucking hell.”

Caleb laughed. “You should’ve seen how quick your picture got me hard. It’s not normal.” His voice dropped a little and you inhaled sharply. 

“R—really?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, sounding slightly out of breath, his breathing ragged. 

“What did you like about it?” you questioned, shifting down onto your back on the bed. 

“Everything. Fuck. You—why are you so hot?” His voice betrayed him at that moment. He let out a soft moan and you could hear wet sounds in the background if you listened close enough. 

Your hand trailed down your stomach, entering your panties and softly rubbing your clit. “W—what else?” 

“Your skin. Looks so soft—mm—and your lips around your finger? Holy fuck.” His filter was long gone now, freely speaking his mind about your body. Your thighs clenched together. 

“Do you wish they were wrapped around something else?”

“God yes,” he sounded so whiny, his hand moving faster up and down his aching cock. “You don’t know how much I love your lips.” He says your name and for a moment you freeze up. 

It’s not often he says your name, and you’ve been so used to just hearing him address you as Pipsqueak. Hearing your name roll off his tongue so easily, and with how whiny he sounds right now, you couldn’t help but insert a finger into yourself. 

Your legs twitched as you began pumping your finger in and out, back arching off the bed and an involuntary moan left your throat. “Caleb—”

“Yes, princess? What is it?”

“I wanna see you so bad right now—mm—fuck.” You gasped as you curled your fingers inside you, shoving them as deep as you could. “I need you.”

“I need you more. Shit. I’m gonna cum soon,” he announced, squeezing the tip of his cock whenever his hand reached it. 

“It’s hard to make myself come,”  you whined. You were never able to successfully have an orgasm on your own and it was frustrating. You wanted nothing more than to experience it first hand right now with Caleb. 

“I’ll help you. Shit. I can teach you. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Next time I see you, I promise.”

“Please,” your voice barely reached the mic. 

“Fuck!” he let out a loud moan as he came, heavy pants slowly turning to whimpers as his cock milked him dry. He couldn’t control his breathing for at least thirty seconds and you just listened to him pant until he caught himself. 

Letting out one more shaky exhale, he tried to swallow but his throat was dry. “Fuck my throat hurts.”

You laughed and pulled your fingers out. Unable to reach an orgasm, you frowned. But the promise he left earlier gave you hope. 

“Go drink some water dummy.” You looked down at your fingers, glistening with your slick and contemplated. “Wait Caleb.”

“Hm?”

“Check chat.”

You put the phone on speaker and opened the chat camera, taking a photo of your wet index and middle finger, a string of slick connecting them both. You captioned it:

Drink me instead

Feeling more bold, you sent it without even batting an eye. You could hear the exact moment Caleb processed your message with his sharp inhale.  You heard the sound of screenshots being taken, once, twice, then three times. 

“Okay okay damn chill out,” you said while laughing, Caleb joining in. 

“What does it taste like?” he asked, utterly curious. 

“Come find out,” you responded, voice just as sultry as your words. 

“Don’t tempt me. I’ll come over right now.”

“Wait now?” You glanced at the clock, the time reading almost 2 am. “You have work in the morning don’t you?”

“So what? I have bigger priorities right now.”

On one hand it would be so wrong for the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel to miss work over some pussy, but on the other hand, you hated the goddamn fleet. 

“Well what are you waiting for?”

authors note: can i just say i literally love this man with everything in me like WTF???? HES SO CUTE AND HOT AND I JUST WANNA SQQUEEZE HIS FACE

he brought me out of my writers slump😩🙇🏽‍♀️

[izumkay]

♡TANTRUMS♡

♡Synopsis♡- When Satoru returns home with your five-year-old daughter, she excitedly shares her day—only to drop an unexpected request. Seeing her friends with their little siblings, she decides she wants one too. Now, with wide, innocent eyes, she turns to you and Satoru, waiting for an answer neither of you were prepared for.

The moment Satoru steps inside, your five-year-old daughter clings to his leg, her face scrunched in deep contemplation. You barely get a chance to greet them before she stomps over, crossing her arms.

"Mommy," she starts, her tiny voice laced with determination. "I need a baby."

You blink. "A... baby?"

"Yes!" she whines, flopping onto the couch dramatically. "All my friends have little brothers or sisters! Hana, Yuto, even that meanie Reira! But me? I have nobody! It’s not fair!"

Satoru, unhelpfully, clicks his tongue. "Tough luck, huh? Must be lonely."

You shoot him a look, but he only shrugs, smirking. Meanwhile, your daughter sits up, her big, watery eyes locking onto you like a weapon. "Please? I’ll take care of them, I promise! I’ll share my toys and— and even let them play with my dolls!"

You sigh, kneeling beside her. "Sweetheart, having a baby isn’t that simple. It's a lot of responsibility."

"But I want one!" She throws herself back again, legs kicking against the cushions. "Daddy, tell Mommy!"

Satoru hums, rubbing his chin. "Well, love, if our little princess wants a sibling…" He turns to you, blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Should we start working on it?"

You gape at him. "Satoru!"

"What?" He gestures at your daughter. "She has a solid argument. We should at least consider it."

Your daughter nods eagerly. "See?! Daddy agrees!"

You pinch the bridge of your nose. This was going to be a long night.

You inhale deeply, gathering every ounce of patience in your being. "Sweetheart," you try again, voice soft, "having a baby isn’t just about wanting one. Babies cry a lot, need a lot of care, and—"

"I love babies!" she interrupts, sitting up on her knees. "I want to take care of one! I can do it, I promise!"

Satoru, the enabler, nods solemnly beside her. "She’s got a point. She’s very responsible."

You deadpan. "She once put her cereal bowl in the fridge because she thought it would turn into ice cream."

"Creative thinking," Satoru counters, completely unfazed.

Your daughter gasps, flailing dramatically. "Mommy, pleaseee!" Her tiny hands clutch at your arm, eyes glassy and pleading. "I’ll be the best big sister in the whole world! I'll teach them how to color and— and— I won’t even get mad if they mess up my toys!"

You raise a brow. "Really? You cried for an hour when your teddy bear fell on the floor."

She pouts, crossing her arms. "That was different."

Satoru leans back, arm draped over the couch as he watches, far too entertained. "Sounds like she’s pretty serious about this," he muses, grinning. Then, in a stage whisper, he adds, "And between us, I wouldn’t mind trying for another one…"

Your entire face heats up. "Satoru!"

"What?" He feigns innocence, winking at your daughter. "Mommy’s just shy. But don’t worry, princess, I’ll convince her."

Your daughter claps excitedly. "Yay! Daddy's the best!"

Oh, this was a conspiracy.

Satoru stretches, turning to you with a lazy grin. "So, sweetheart, what do you say? Want to give our little princess a teammate?"

You exhale slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose as your daughter bounces beside you, eyes wide with hope.

This was going to be an extremely long night.

You sigh, shaking your head as your daughter clings to your arm, eyes still wide with expectation. Satoru chuckles beside you, his amusement evident, but as you glance at him, his expression softens.

“Sweetheart,” you start gently, brushing a stray hair from your daughter’s face, “having a baby isn’t just about playing together. It’s a big responsibility, and Mommy and Daddy have to be ready too.”

Her lower lip trembles. “But I am ready…” she mumbles.

Satoru reaches over, ruffling her hair with a small smile. “You’d be the best big sister, no doubt about that,” he murmurs. “But sometimes, these things take time.”

She huffs, puffing her cheeks. “I don’t like waiting.”

Satoru gasps dramatically. “What?! My daughter—impatient? Impossible!” He tickles her side, making her giggle despite herself. “Wherever did you get that from?”

You shoot him a look. “Definitely not from me.”

He winks, but then his fingers find yours, giving them a reassuring squeeze. When you turn to him, he’s not teasing anymore—his gaze is steady, warm, and understanding.

“Hey,” he murmurs so only you can hear. “No pressure, alright? This is your choice too. If you’re not ready, that’s okay.”

Your heart melts at his sincerity.

You exhale, squeezing his hand back. “I know.”

Your daughter watches the silent exchange, then sighs dramatically before crawling into your lap, small arms wrapping around you. “Okay… but if I have to wait, can I at least have ice cream?”

Satoru gasps, pressing a hand to his chest. “A genius bargain! Negotiation skills on point!”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile. “Fine. But only one scoop.”

Your daughter squeals in victory, and Satoru beams. “Guess it’s a win for everyone, huh?”

As he presses a kiss to your temple, his touch lingering just a little longer, you realize—no matter what the future holds, you’d never have to face it alone♡

A/N -I hope you liked this cute lil drabble that had been on my mind for a while🤭♡

—Check out my Masterlist for more!

Divider credit!- @cafekitsune

[moonstruckme]

my queen of comfort 🙇🏻‍♀️

can i pls request a marauders with reader who has seasonal depression and it gets bad especially during the winters??? thank u 🫶

Thanks for being patient with me lovely <3

cw: depression, no harmful thoughts but general apathy and lethargy

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 995 words

It’s warm in your bed. Almost too warm. The backs of your knees and the place where your arm is folded against your side feel uncomfortably heated. But Sirius kisses the back of your neck when he wakes, and you wouldn’t move for anything. 

“Let’s go to the farmer’s market today,” he says, voice sticky with sleep.

You look out the crack in the curtains covering your bedroom window. “It’s so cold out, though.” 

“So we’ll bundle up. You can put your hands in my pockets if you don’t feel like wearing your gloves.” His nose bumps your nape as he kisses you again. “It’ll be very romantic. The woman who sells the apple tarts said she’d be back this week, remember?” 

“Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” 

“You won’t let me get my girl a sweet? I thought you really liked those.” 

“I do, just.” Just. It feels like it’s all you say lately, like all you do is make excuses. Just, just, just. “It doesn’t seem worth it. It’s really gross outside.” 

Sirius’ arm comes around your waist. He doesn’t contradict you. It’s dreary and gray out your window, drizzling rain that bites like ice when it lands on your skin. You’d rather lose track of the day lying here with him, let it slip through your fingers and not think very hard about what it means that you have. Sirius’ fingers playing with yours make this all the more appealing. 

“What if we went to the cinema?” he asks. “That comedy film is showing this weekend.” 

“Didn’t James want to see that one?” 

“Think so, yeah.” 

“You should take him.” 

“I don’t want to take James.” Your joined hands press to your hip, a gentle request for you to turn around. But you don’t want to look at him, and Sirius doesn’t make you. He squeezes your fingers instead. “I want to take you.” 

That’s the important bit. Sirius doesn’t care about the farmer’s market, or even really about the film. You know he only wants you to get up, to go anywhere and do anything at all, and you feel like shit for resisting him. You shouldn’t, either. You know how sadness can sink its talons in the longer it holds you. 

“I’m sorry. Yeah, let’s go.” 

“Don’t be sorry, lovely girl,” he chides fondly. “We don’t have to go if you won’t enjoy it. What do you want to do?” 

You try to muster something for him, you really do, but after a handful of hapless moments you can only be honest. 

“I don’t think I want anything.” 

“That’s okay.” Sirius drops a kiss on your shoulder. “Hey, could you look at me? Please?” 

You roll over, miserable and made more miserable by the aching tenderness in your boyfriend’s expression. This new spot on the bed is colder than where you’d been, but Sirius’ knee bumps against yours, his palm slipping beneath your head on the pillow. He doesn’t hesitate to touch you. Doesn't treat you like you’re breakable or wrong or contagious. His hand flattens under your cheek and warms your skin like he can bleed goodness into you. 

“It’s okay,” he says again, softly. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Sirius tsks. “Now what for?” 

“Making things so hard,” you murmur. You’re trying not to disturb his palm with your mouth movements. 

“Sweetheart, nothing’s hard when I’m with you. I just want to be with you. We can just sit here and talk all day if you want.” 

“I don’t think I’m very nice to talk to right now.” 

“What does that matter? I know I’m awful to talk to half the time. We can be morbid bellyachers together.” 

With some effort, you lift one corner of your mouth. Sirius kisses it rewardingly. 

“You are a delight to talk to, by the way. Always.” 

“A delight?” you whisper. 

“Mhm.” 

There’s a piece of his hair that’s arching over his face, all sprightly and mussed about by the pillowcase. You’re close enough that it moves when you breathe. You blow, and it tickles Sirius’ nose. He smiles. 

“I don’t think I want to talk,” you admit. 

“That’s okay.” 

“I know I’m not fun to be around right now. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make everything miserable.” You look at the dip of his cupid’s bow rather than his eyes. “I love you.” 

It feels important to say. Even when you’re dropping it in his lap awkwardly, like a plea. 

Sirius tilts his head until his eyes meet yours. Dark lashes and silver pools, like moonlight glancing off water. “I love you,” he says, so sincere it burns. “I have another idea.” 

You hum. 

“We watch a film here instead. Or a show, whatever. But first, you tell me how to make french toast so we can have some for breakfast.” 

“You don’t want me to make it?” You don’t want to, but you’d try for him. 

“I want to do something for you.” He kisses you, soft and sweet. He tastes like sleep. “But you’re allowed to help if you like.” 

Allowed amuses you, though you don’t smile. Sirius’ eyes glint like he can tell just the same. 

“You do lots of things for me,” you say. 

“Good. I’d like to continue adding to the tally; it’s how I keep my edge.” 

You look at Sirius, thinking of how much you must love him for it to ache this deeply. Thinking of how he loves you, and how unfair it seems. He keeps doing it even when you give him every reason not to. 

Sirius can tell you’ve slipped away. He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “So, what do you say, gorgeous?” 

You don’t really want to eat french toast. You think you’d swallow battery acid if he made it for you, though. “It sounds nice.” 

“Yeah?” He grins. “Okay, let’s go then, yeah? I’m starving.” 

You give Sirius your hands when he reaches for them, and you let him pull you up.

[illusionaryrambler]

Ezekiel walks through the woods, trying to make as much noise as possible while arriving to a small clearing surrounded by mushrooms. You see, he wasn’t trying to be secretive. No. If anything he wanted to be noticed.

Only the luckiest are looked at, though Ezekiel wouldn’t consider himself that in the slightest. More like a privilege to be in the presence of a helpful annoyance. He clears his throat and begins to create as much noise as humanly possible(Ezekiel was only human after all).

“OH BOY, IT WOULD SURE SUCK IF THE FAE TOOK ME!”, cried the man, banging pots and pans together in the middle of the circle of mushrooms, “A TRAGEDY! A HORRIBLE THING! AN…ATROCITY!”, Ezekiel most likely looked(and sounded) hysterical at the moment. Desperate times call for desperate measures…or so they say.

“You know,” a coy, dreamy voice announced, “you don’t have to do this every time you want to gain my attention. Though, I must say, this is quite entertaining. Better than that weird stationary object that plays moving pictures.”

Ezekiel turns around and glares, “You’ve been missing for weeks! How else was I supposed to get you to listen? Your mother has been worried sick!”

“Oh, wee lamb, I’m sorry you had to endure her lecturing. How might I repay you?”

“By giving me back my sanity,” Ezekiel huffs and mutters, “and maybe help me with my astronomy homework.”

“It amazes me how little you know about the night sky even though you stare up at it practically every night.”

“We can’t all be magical, Adonis.”

“Of course, darling,” Adonis chuckles softly, “Now, what about this homework confuses your small, human brain?”

Ezekiel rolls his eyes and hands over the sheet of paper(filled with nonsense if he had any say in it), and Adonis squints at the blasted thing before scowling,

“What in Mother Nature’s tongue is this?!”

this prompt was super fun!! these are my characters, Ezekiel and Adonis. they’re idiots but i love them. there will be torturing of them soon(because i just can’t NOT torture them a little bit).

they just fit so well with this prompt, so i just had to write a little snippet of them for this.

"OH BOY, IT WOULD SURE SUCK IF THE FAE TOOK ME!" cried the man banging pots and pans together in the middle of a mushroom circle.

[lov3yv4mps]

Hii!! Can you please do a period comfort with skz? Please and thank you!!!

Yes of course anon!!

‧ ୨ period comfort with skz ୧ ‧

SUMMARY: How stray kids members comfort you during your period

Pairings: stray kids x fem!reader (separately)

Warnings: just fluff!!

v4mps note: I tried to make these as accurate as possible, but this is my opinion! If it doesn't suit your opinion, I apologize :(

‧ ୨ bangchan ୧ ‧

This man is always prepared—like always. And when I say prepared, I mean he probably has a whole app on his phone just to track your cycle, complete with notifications so he knows exactly when to stock up on your favorite snacks, grab extra pads or tampons, and make sure the heating pad is ready to go. He loves seeing the happy smile when you notice his attention and care for you.

The second he notices it's that time of the month, he’s already one step ahead—texting you things like, “I got your favorite chocolate, baby. You want anything else?” Or maybe he just shows up with a little care package because he knows what you need before you even have to ask.

And when the cramps hit? Oh, he's on it. He’s tucking you into his arms, rubbing soothing circles on your stomach, whispering, “I got you, love. No stupid cramps are gonna hurt my baby.” If you need him to, he’ll even warm up your heating pad and hold it against your tummy himself—because no pain is touching his love on his watch.

If he finds you crying over the smallest things—like your eyeliner not matching or your hair not cooperating—Chan’s heart immediately softens. He kneels in front of you, gently wiping your tears with his thumbs. “Baby, don’t cry over this,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead. With a small smile, he tilts his head. “Want me to fix it, or should we just cuddle instead?”

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ leeknow ୧ ‧

Lee Know notices before you even say anything. The slight wince, the way you press a hand to your stomach—he’s already on it. Without a word, he disappears and comes back with your heating pad, plugging it in and placing it on your lap. “You should’ve said something,” he mutters, but his touch is gentle as he tucks a blanket around you. He won’t make a big deal out of it, but he’ll make sure you have everything you need.

He acts nonchalant about it, but you know he’s paying attention. If you complain about cramps, he’ll scoff lightly. “Well, I can’t do anything about that.” But five minutes later, he’s sliding a cup of warm tea in front of you, pretending it’s no big deal. If you thank him, he just shrugs. “I just didn’t want to hear you complain later.” (But the way he subtly checks on you every few minutes totally gives him away.)

If he sees you getting emotional, he’s quick to shift your focus. He’ll plop down next to you, phone in hand, and start showing you cute cat videos like it’s urgent. “Look at this one. This is literally you.” If that doesn’t work, he’ll poke your cheek until you glare at him. “There she is. Thought I lost you for a second.” Anything to keep your mind off the discomfort.

Lee Know isn’t always the biggest on PDA, but when you’re in pain? He’s all yours. He lets you stretch out on the couch, head resting on his lap as he absentmindedly strokes your hair. “Just sleep,” he murmurs, his fingers moving soothingly against your scalp. He won’t say it outright, but the way he lets you cling to him, the way he adjusts so you’re comfortable? Yeah, he’s not letting you go until you feel better.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ changbin ୧ ‧

The moment Changbin hears you groan in pain, he’s on high alert. He rushes to your side, eyes full of concern. “Where does it hurt? What do you need? Say the word, and I got you.” He won’t rest until he’s sure you’re comfortable, tucking a blanket around you and making sure you have everything—snacks, water, even his hoodie if you want it.

If you’re feeling sluggish and mopey, he’s not letting you sink into the sadness. “C’mon, let’s go for a short walk, just to get some air.” If you refuse, he flops onto the couch next to you dramatically. “Fine, but at least let’s stretch a little.” He just wants to help you feel better, even if it means sitting there massaging your legs while making goofy faces.

He hates seeing you uncomfortable, so he’ll do anything to take your mind off the pain. He’ll put on a funny movie, tell you random stories, or even offer to do your skincare routine for you. “I’ve seen you do it a million times. How hard can it be?” (Spoiler: He gets way too into it, and you end up laughing at his concentrated expression.)

The second you lay down, Changbin immediately becomes your human pillow. He lets you rest on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. “You’re stuck with me now,” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—it’s all so comforting, you end up falling asleep in his arms, safe and loved.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ hyunjin ୧ ‧

If Hyunjin notices you're feeling off, he’ll instantly become the calm presence you need. He won’t rush to ask you a million questions, but he’ll quietly observe, sensing the shift in your mood. “You okay?” he’ll ask softly, his tone calm and gentle. Without making a fuss, he’ll grab your favorite blanket and wrap it around you, sitting close by, just quietly being there with you. Sometimes, he’ll rest his head on yours, offering his comfort through his presence alone.

When you’re feeling down or drained, Hyunjin knows that sometimes the best thing is a little peace and quiet. He’ll sit next to you, not demanding anything, just offering a steady, calming energy. He might gently stroke your arm or hair, his soft touch making you feel grounded. “I’m here, you don’t need to talk,” he’ll whisper, letting you know that just being near him is enough to help you relax.

Hyunjin has a way of bringing a calm vibe even in the quietest moments. If you’re feeling uncomfortable, he’ll quietly pull you into his arms, letting you rest your head on his chest. He’ll hum a soft tune, his voice low and soothing, creating a peaceful atmosphere that helps take your mind off any discomfort. “Just breathe, everything will be okay,” he’ll murmur, as you close your eyes, feeling safe in his embrace.

Even when he’s being calm and gentle, Hyunjin’s attention to you never wavers. If you mention cramps or feeling off, he’ll quietly get up to make you tea or get your favorite snacks, all without making it a big deal. When he returns, he’ll simply hand them to you with a small smile, his voice quiet but filled with care. “Here you go. Take it easy for now, okay?” His soft, caring nature always shines through in the simplest moments.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ han ୧ ‧

When Han notices you're feeling off, he’s the perfect mix of dramatic and calm. He’ll dramatically gasp and clutch his chest, “Noooo, not my baby,” but his soft, concerned gaze tells you he’s genuinely worried. He'll immediately get to work, grabbing your favorite snacks or a cozy blanket, all while maintaining that cool, quiet energy. “You’re gonna be okay. I’m here,” he’ll reassure you, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of sincerity that makes you feel safe.

If you're feeling overwhelmed, Han’s playfully dramatic side will come out to distract you. He’ll dramatically flop onto the couch beside you, letting out a huge sigh as if the whole world is crashing down. “The pain, the agony... I can’t bear to watch you suffer,” he’ll say, trying not to laugh as he gives you a playful look. He knows it’ll lighten your mood, and he’ll gently coax a smile out of you without being too much.

Though he’s playful, Han knows when to keep things quiet. He’ll sit next to you, quietly rubbing your back or running his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and steady. He won’t force conversation, just giving you the space to relax while still showing you that he’s there. “I’m right here… just rest, okay?” His calm, comforting presence wraps around you like a warm hug.

When you need comfort, Han’s sweetness comes out in the softest ways. He’ll pull you into his lap, his arms wrapped around you as he murmurs softly. “It’s okay, baby. Just sleep... I’ve got you.” He’s quiet, but his gentle touches and soothing words make you feel like everything’s going to be okay, even when the world feels like it’s spinning.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ felix ୧ ‧

Felix, being the sunshine he is, will first make sure you're absolutely comfortable. He’ll tiptoe around the room quietly, making sure to dim the lights, as he knows a soft atmosphere helps you feel better. He’ll gently ask, “Do you want me to play your favorite playlist? I know the soft songs help when you’re not feeling well.” He’ll make you feel like a priority, always quietly moving to cater to your needs without making you feel like a burden.

When you're feeling down, Felix has a very nurturing side that shines. He won’t just offer a quick solution; he’ll really dive into the comfort routine. “How about a warm bath? I’ll make it nice and relaxing, and we can watch a show after,” he’ll suggest with a gentle smile. He’s meticulous about the little things, running the bath at the perfect temperature, lighting a candle, and making sure the towels are soft and ready when you’re done. It’s all about making sure you feel pampered.

Felix might be the type to prepare a surprise snack for you, but in a subtle way. He won’t make a big deal out of it; he’ll just quietly come back with your favorite treat and a cup of tea, setting it beside you with a soft grin. “I thought you might need a little something,” he’ll say, offering the snack with a sense of quiet joy. He doesn’t need praise for it, he just loves to see you taken care of and happy, even in the smallest ways.

If you're feeling really bad, Felix will make sure you're completely relaxed in his presence. He won’t try to push you to talk, but rather let you know that he’s here for you. He might offer to play a gentle game or even suggest you both take a nap together, where he’ll wrap his arms around you to keep you warm. “I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry. Just let me know if you need anything,” he’ll say, his voice soft and full of sincerity. It’s all about offering that quiet, protective comfort that makes you feel like everything will be okay with him by your side.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ seungmin ୧ ‧

Seungmin isn’t the type to be overly dramatic or overly soft, but when he notices you’re uncomfortable, he steps up in his own way. Without saying much, he’ll disappear for a few minutes and return with a heating pad, a glass of water, and whatever snack he knows you like. He won’t make a big deal out of it, just setting everything beside you with a simple, “Here. Take this.” It’s his way of showing care without making you feel fussed over.

If he catches you whining about cramps or feeling miserable, he won’t sugarcoat things. “You act like you’re dying every month,” he’ll tease with a smirk, but the second you glare at him, he’s already adjusting your blanket and tucking you in. He’s playful, but he knows when to draw the line. After his teasing, he’ll sit next to you and absentmindedly rub your leg or hold your hand, quietly making sure you’re okay.

Seungmin’s love language during your period is distraction. He knows sitting around focusing on the pain won’t help, so he’ll casually toss you the TV remote. “Pick something to watch, and don’t make it something boring.” If you’re not up for a show, he’ll challenge you to a game on your phone, knowing that getting competitive will make you temporarily forget about how bad you’re feeling.

If you’re extra tired and just want to rest, Seungmin won’t be over-the-top affectionate, but he’ll stay close. He might sit on the floor beside the couch, scrolling on his phone, but every once in a while, he’ll check on you with a soft, “You still alive?” If you fall asleep, he won’t move, letting you rest peacefully while he stays right there—quietly looking after you in the most Seungmin way possible.

-♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎--♥︎-

‧ ୨ jeongin ୧ ‧

Jeongin may not always know exactly what to do when you’re feeling bad, but he tries his best in his own thoughtful way. The first thing he does is pull out his phone and search for the best ways to help with cramps or discomfort. “Okay, so Google says heating pads and snacks help... I can do that!” He’ll rush off to get everything, sometimes bringing back a completely random snack just because he thought it might cheer you up.

If he sees you curled up in pain, he’ll frown and sit beside you, resting his chin on his hand while observing you closely. “You look like you’re about to cry,” he’ll say, a little too bluntly, before quickly adding, “Do you want me to make you laugh? I’ll do something really dumb if it helps.” He’ll start making weird faces or doing a terrible dance just to see you smile, his own laughter filling the room when he sees it working.

Jeongin’s way of comforting you is casual but sweet. He won’t always say much, but he’ll stay close, scrolling on his phone next to you or playing a game while occasionally glancing over. Every so often, he’ll nudge your arm and say, “You good?” If you mumble that you’re not, he’ll sigh dramatically and hand you his hoodie. “Here. Hoodies fix everything.”

If you’re feeling extra exhausted, Jeongin will get a little softer without making it obvious. He’ll let you rest your head on his lap while he plays with your hair, humming softly without even realizing it. When he notices you getting sleepier, he’ll whisper, “Just sleep, I’ll wake you up if anything happens.” His quiet, reassuring presence makes you feel safe, and though he might pretend he’s not doing anything special, he secretly loves taking care of you in these little ways.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑻𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒔/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

Trying something a little different. Let me know if this is something you want to see more of <3

Alexia exhales slowly, rubbing her temple as Emilia lets out another frustrated huff.

It’s been a long day. From the moment she woke up, Emilia has been on edge. First, she didn’t want to wear the clothes Alexia picked out. Then, breakfast wasn’t right -her toast was too crispy, her juice too cold. Every little thing has been a battle, and Alexia’s patience is wearing thin.

Now, in the middle of the grocery store, apparently it was all coming to a head.

“Mami, I want it,” Emilia says, gripping the bright pink doll box with both hands.

Alexia shakes her head. “No, mi amor. Not today.” She had no problems buying Emilia the things she wants, and she often does anytime the little one asks, but she had no intentions of rewarding bad behaviour.

Emilia’s lower lip wobbles. “Pero, Mami…”

Alexia crouches down, steadying herself. “Listen, you have not been good today, chiquitina. Lots of tantrums, sí?”

Emilia drops the box and crosses her tiny arms. “No.”

Alexia sighs, reaching out to tuck a curl behind her ear. “You have, mi amor. And when we are not good, we don’t get treats.”

Emilia stares at her for a second, processing the words. Then, without warning, she stomps her foot. “I want it!”

Alexia’s jaw tightens. “Emilia-“

“I want it!” Emilia repeats, louder this time.

A few shoppers glance their way. Alexia feels her patience slip further, her fingers pressing against her temple.

“Emilia, enough,” she says, voice firm.

Emilia, however, is past the point of reasoning. “No! I want it, I want it, I want it!”

Then, to Alexia’s absolute horror, Emilia throws herself onto the floor, kicking her legs and wailing. Alexia closes her eyes briefly.

She knows this is normal -knows that kids have days like this, knows that Emilia is just overwhelmed, overtired, or maybe both. But knowing doesn’t make it any easier when her child is screaming in the middle of the grocery store. She takes a deep breath, then kneels beside her.

“Emilia,” she says, voice low but steady.

Emilia doesn’t respond, just cries harder.

“Mi amor,” Alexia tries again, resting a hand on her back. “You need to get up.”

Emilia shakes her head against the floor.

Alexia exhales, her patience thinning even further. “Emilia. Now.”

Still nothing.

Alright.

Alexia leans down, slipping her hands under Emilia’s arms and lifting her effortlessly. Emilia kicks, fists pounding weakly against Alexia’s shoulders, but Alexia doesn’t budge.

“Shhh,” she murmurs, rubbing slow circles against Emilia’s back, her free arm beneath Emilia’s behind to keep her supported. “Respira, chiquitina.”

Emilia sniffles, face pressed into Alexia’s neck, and Alexia sways gently, rocking her in the middle of the aisle.

“It’s okay, mi amor,” she whispers. “I know you’re upset.”

Emilia lets out a muffled sob.

Alexia sighs, kissing her temple. “But this is not how we ask for things, sí?”

There’s no response, but the kicking stops and Alexia takes that as progress. She walks them toward a quieter section of the store, away from the curious glances and whispered conversations. She finds a bench near the pharmacy and sits, keeping Emilia cradled in her arms.

For a while, neither of them speak. Alexia just holds her, rubbing her back in slow, soothing motions.

Eventually, Emilia’s sniffles quieten.

Alexia tilts her head slightly. “Better?”

A small nod.

Alexia brushes her curls back. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong, chiquitina?”

Emilia shifts, her little fingers twisting into Alexia’s hoodie. “I don’t know.”

Alexia hums, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “That’s okay.”

Emilia sighs, rubbing her eyes. “I just feel yucky.”

Alexia’s heart softens instantly.

She cups Emilia’s cheek, tilting her face up slightly. “Mi amor, you can tell me anything. You know that, sí?”

Emilia nods. “Sí.”

Alexia kisses the tip of her nose. “Even when we feel bad, we have to try to be good, sí?”

Another nod, this one more hesitant.

Alexia smiles gently. “And when we are not good, we do not get treats.”

Emilia pouts. “I know.”

Alexia chuckles, squeezing her a little tighter. “Do you want to help me finish shopping?”

Emilia nods.

“Vale.” Alexia stands, settling Emilia on her hip. “Let’s go, chiquitina.”

Emilia rests her head against Alexia’s shoulder, her tiny arms wrapped tightly around her. From that moment forward, Emilia doesn’t cause any more trouble, but she doesn’t let go of Alexia either. She stays wrapped around her, her small arms slung around Alexia’s neck, her head tucked right under Alexia’s chin

Alexia doesn’t mind -not really. She’s used to Emilia being clingy on her bad days. It’s just, as strong as she is, shopping with a five-year-old stuck to her hip isn’t the easiest thing in the world.

“Mi amor,” Alexia murmurs, adjusting her grip on Emilia as she reaches for a carton of milk. “I need both hands.”

Emilia shakes her head and clings tighter.

Alexia sighs, balancing the milk in one arm and maneuvering the cart with her foot so she could place the milk inside. It’s ridiculous, really, but she makes it work.

Emilia puffs out a tiny breath. “Mami.”

Alexia hums, absentmindedly scanning the cereal aisle for Emilia’s favourite. “Sí, chiquitina?”

“I’m sorry,” Emilia whispers.

Alexia shifts her hold, pressing a kiss to Emilia’s forehead as she pats her behind softly. “I know, mi amor.” She assures.

“I was naughty,” Emilia mumbles.

Alexia shakes her head. “You were upset. It happens.”

Emilia sniffles. “Still feel bad.”

Alexia cups the back of her head, rubbing her thumb in slow circles. “We all have bad days, chiquitina. Even me.”

Emilia lifts her head, looking at her with wide, serious eyes. “You do?”

Alexia nods, shifting the little one so she was settled on her front as opposed to her hip. “Sí. Sometimes I am grumpy too.”

Emilia frowns. “But you don’t cry on the floor.” She points out.

Alexia chuckles. “No, but sometimes I want to.”

Emilia giggles, a soft little thing that makes Alexia’s chest warm.

“You’re not mad at me?” Emilia asks, her voice small.

Alexia shakes her head. “Never, mi amor.”

Emilia exhales, nestling back against her. “Okay.”

Alexia runs her fingers through Emilia’s curls. “Almost done. Do you want to help me pick some fruit?”

Emilia nods but makes no move to get down, and Alexia smiles to herself as she grabs a few more things before finally heading to the checkout. Emilia still doesn’t let go, even when the cashier coos at her and tells her how cute she is. Emilia just burrows deeper into Alexia’s hoodie.

By the time they get to the car, Emilia has gone completely quiet.

Alexia buckles her into her car seat, brushing a thumb over her cheek. “Tired?”

Emilia nods, rubbing at her eyes.

Alexia smiles, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s go home, mi amor.”

The drive is quiet. Alexia keeps one hand on the wheel, the other stretched toward the back, letting Emilia hold onto her fingers. When they get home, Emilia doesn’t even have to ask Alexia to scoop her up again.

“Nap time,” Alexia whispers, carrying both Emilia and the groceries inside, setting the bags on the counter before making her way into the living room.

Emilia doesn’t argue, just curls into Alexia’s arms, clinging like a little koala.

Alexia sighs, settling them both onto the couch. Emilia shifts, making herself comfortable on Alexia’s chest, tiny legs straddling her hips with her head nestled under her chin.

“Mami?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Alexia’s heart melts instantly. She tightens her hold, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of Emilia’s curls. “I love you too, chiquitina. So much.”

And just like that, Emilia drifts off, safe and snug in her mami’s arms.

**

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[illuminatedquill]

How are you watching this episode and then your immediate reaction is that Mark and Gemma did not have a good marriage.

SHE HAD A MISCARRIAGE. THEY WERE GOING THROUGH AN INSANELY TRAUMATIC EVENT.

They were suffering apart - Mark growing increasingly frustrated and concerned because of his inability to reach his wife and Gemma becoming distant and obsessed with finding ways to overcome their infertility issues - but they still loved each other! They were still together through it all!

And my God - my heart breaks for Gemma even more in this episode. She is so fucking resilient through this hell and desperate to see Mark again. SHE’S ALIVE AND REMEMBERS HIM AND WANTS TO GO HOME.

The lie that creep doctor told her about Mark having moved on and then saying that “maybe she has too, and he’s seen it” - I need him to be boiled in a vat of acid. Gemma’s stoic facade breaking just for a moment, denying it but you can see the doubt creep in. Only us, the audience, knows that is an absolute lie and that Mark never moved on.

Gemma making a run for it, almost making it out only to be thwarted by the damn severance chip in her head. Her breaking down in the elevator, realizing she’s stuck in this hell transitioning to the shot of Mark seeing the police outside his door as he’s slowly swallowed into the darkness. Incredible.

What is Lumon doing to her? What the hell is with all these rooms. Did Dichen get a sense of deja vu as she read the script and realized they were essentially having her do Dollhouse again, LOL. We still don’t know how they got a hold of her. Did she agree to some scientific procedure that would resolve her infertility issues? Oh, Gemma. She made a deal with the devil it seems.

Dichen finally being able to show her acting range at last. Engrave her name on an Emmy right fucking now.

I want to be happy that all the people saying that Gemma is definitely dead or comatose and doesn’t remember Mark at all (or that she loves him) are wrong but I’m certain that Lumon didn’t take her escape attempt lightly. What punishment they gave to her . . .

Mark, YOU NEED TO LOCK IN NOW MORE THAN EVER. GET HER OUT.

There’s so much more I want to say but ahhhhhh, I need to sleep.

[lethalchiralium]

Simon is a liar.

Well, it’s not that he lies often, but he does do it and you have no idea unless it’s with the girls. Getting them to sleep by telling them that they’ll get candy in the morning instead of eggs, telling them the tooth fairy has the day off on Fridays, and even telling his toddler that he goes and saves puppies some days instead of the world. He lies, but not without reason.

But as he follows you around as you shop, he feels the need to lie. Tell you that you look good in an ugly color dress just to get you to laugh. Deny that your grip on his hand hurts. Say that he doesn’t want another leather jacket, even though he does. He wants the one you keep showing him - nice detailing, shiny silver zipper, and thick lining to keep him warm. One that wasn’t ripping at the seams, has cigarette burns, or holes that dotted its worn flank.

“Simon, please, I just want to buy something nice for you.” You say, looking at him with those sweet eyes and genuine care.

He hates himself at that moment when he lies.

“I’m alright with what I got.”

The nod of understanding, knowing that pushing will not get you far, distressed him. He knows he shouldn’t be this way, that he should bend at the knees every time you even begin a sentence. But the leather jacket is something he can’t do that for, and he can’t stomach telling you the reason.

You pull out pretty dresses and tops to show him, he always agrees with the ones that make your eyes pop. Your hand squeezes his every time you walk back and forth in this little boutique and he knows quite well that you’re purposefully passing this perfect leather jacket multiple times. Exposure therapy.

He doesn’t like upsetting you. He knows you want him to have nice things instead of the worn down clothes he has, but he cannot allow himself to have better things when the money should be going towards his children and their needs. He can go without a new leather jacket, even if you had saved over the course of a year for it. He’d rather buy Winnie the dollhouse she really wants, buy Mellie the beanbag she always has him look up online, maybe even something for the baby like a new high chair. He could buy you a nice ring with that leather jacket money, even though you’d say no.

In a way, you two are the same.

You finally stop the games and stand next to the jacket, hand squeezing his impossibly tight before loosening. “Do you not like it?”

“It’s nice.”

“Then try it on.”

He shakes his head. “No, ‘m okay with this. We can use the money on you.”

Your shoulders droop, his heart hurts, and you softly murmur, “Why aren’t you letting me do this for you?”

He feels the need to lie, the itch that takes hold of his throat and shakes it. His head dips down, his eyes level with yours. “Because this jacket means a lot to me. Don’t want to start over with a new one.” Another lie, it doesn’t mean a lot, it means everything.

You stare at him for a while, digging in his eye with such a disappointed glare. Stiff, aggravated, but still docile. “What’s so special about holes and torn seams?”

“I first met you with this on.” He confesses. “First met Winnie with this on. Mellie fits in a wrap in it like a glove, and it was Tommy’s.” His hand comes to rest on your bump where the baby kicks lazily, your forehead rests against his.

In the back corner of a shop, he tells the truth. Says a prayer as he kisses you, thanks God when you finally see the ratty jacket for what it truly is - a symbol of loyalty.

Another kiss pressed against his lips before you move away, your hand brushes his hair away from his forehead before cradling his jaw. “That’s all you had to say. No more lies.”

Simon is a liar, it’s sometimes all he knows. A second skin, a way to protect the keloids made from wounds he suffered forever ago. But when he looks in your eyes, cradles your belly that grows his baby with a ring on his hand that matches your own, and lets you in his marred head, he can’t bring himself to lie to you.

“No more lies.”

[linoxpudding]

Second Chances - Han Jisung

summary: when your husband fails to show up for your family, you bring up divorce — only then does he wake up

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, married with kids

word count: 1318 words

a/n: remember the twins in jisung's part of this fic? here's a little years later scenario where they have a younger brother now

-

The Kids: Twin Girls (Jisoo, Minsoo - 7 years old) and Son (Jihoon - 5 years old)

~°~

You were exhausted.

Physically, emotionally, mentally—every part of you was stretched thin, fraying at the edges. The weight of everything threatened to crush you, and tonight, it finally broke you.

One of your twin daughters, Minsoo, had her first-ever ballet recital at school today. The one she had spent months practicing for. The one where she had asked, with those wide, hopeful eyes, “Will Appa come this time?”

You had smiled, smoothed down her tutu, kissed her forehead, and whispered, “Of course, baby. He promised.”

But promises didn’t mean much anymore. Not when they came from Han Jisung.

Because when the curtains lifted, and Minsoo stood on stage, her little eyes scanning the audience with anticipation, her smile slowly faltered. Her twirls lost confidence. And when she finally spotted you, sitting alone, her lips wobbled.

And your heart shattered.

Just like it had last month when Jisung missed Jisoo’s science fair. And the time before that, when he forgot about Jihoon’s first-award ceremony at school, where your youngest won an award for being 'most creative' in his class.

How many times were you supposed to make excuses for him? How many times were you supposed to be both parents while he drowned himself in work, in schedules, in music, in everything but the family he promised to cherish?

Not anymore. You reached your breaking point.

Jisung felt it the moment he stepped into the house.

Something was wrong.

The lights were dim, the air heavy. His bag slipped from his shoulder, and he rubbed a hand down his face, exhausted from a long day in the studio.

“Baby, I’m home,” he called out, toeing off his shoes. He glanced at the clock. 12:37 AM.

Late. Again.

The guilt gnawed at his chest, but he pushed it down. He had deadlines, commitments—he was doing all of this for you and the kids, wasn’t he?

Still, when you stepped out of the kitchen, arms crossed, eyes void of warmth, his stomach twisted.

“We need to talk.”

He sighed. “Babe, can it wait? It’s been a long—”

“No.” Your voice was firm. “It can’t.”

Something in your tone made him look up. Really look. And for the first time in a long time, he saw something that terrified him.

You weren’t just mad. You were done.

“Baby—” he started

“Let's go to our bedroom,” you cut him off, “the kids are sleeping, i dont want to wake them up.”

He followed you quietly, and as soon as he shut the bedroom door behind him, you said it.

“I want a divorce.”

The words left your lips like venom. You had imagined saying them before, but you never thought you’d actually do it.

Jisung blinked. Like he didn’t hear you. Like his brain refused to process the words.

“W-What?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I want a divorce, Jisung.”

His bag hit the floor. His breath hitched. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.” He shook his head, laughing weakly, like this was some cruel joke. “You’re just mad. We fight, we argue, but we always—”

“I’m tired, Jisung.” Your voice cracked. “I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of raising our kids alone. I’m tired of watching them get disappointed over and over again.”

His jaw tightened. “I provide for them—”

“I don’t care about money!” You snapped, voice breaking. “I care about our kids growing up with a father who actually shows up! You keep missing everything, Jisung! Do you even know how much it hurts them? How much does it hurt me?”

Jisung’s breath came out uneven. “I—”

You let out a shaky laugh, eyes stinging. “You know what’s funny? If we get divorced, maybe then they’ll actually get to see you. Because at least then, you’ll be forced to make time.”

Jisung’s lips parted, but no words came out. He looked at you like you had just stabbed him.

Then, suddenly—

Thump.

He dropped to his knees. He felt the world tilted. His ears rang.

Jisung’s knees hit the floor before he even realized what was happening. His hands shot out, grasping at your legs, your hands, anything he could hold on to.

“Please,” his voice was barely a whisper. “Please, don’t do this.”

You flinched, stepping back slightly, but he held onto your legs tightly.

“I know I messed up,” he choked out. “I know I’ve been the worst husband, the worst dad, but please—please don’t leave me.” His fingers curled around your waist, his grip desperate. “I’ll fix this. I’ll be better. Just… don’t give up on me.”

Your face crumpled, and you teared up and gently you pulled away from him.

“Jisung… it’s not that simple.”

“But it is,” he pleaded, voice trembling. “It is to me. I’ll do anything. I’ll quit music—”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “You love music, Jisung. I would never take that from you.” Your voice wavered. “I just need you to love us just as much.”

He let out a sob, his chest shaking. “I do.” His voice cracked. “I do, I do, I do. I love you. I love our kids. You’re my whole world, please don’t leave.”

Jisung, the man who once stood on sold-out stages with a mic in hand, now knelt before you, crying.

And it broke him.

The memories hit him all at once.

The way Jisoo had tugged at his sleeve last week, asking if he could just stay home for one day.

The way Jihoon had slowly stopped telling him about his day, because he knew Appa was busy.

The way Minsoo had once whispered to him, “Appa, do you love me?” Even though he reassured her, he knew this question shouldn't even have crossed her little mind in the first place.

His heart clenched so painfully he thought he might die from it.

You exhaled shakily. “Jisung, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

His breath hitched. He looked broken.

His face was crumpled, his hands shaking, his entire body trembling as he knelt before you. And you hated it.

You hated that even after all this, after all the pain and loneliness, you still loved him.

And maybe that was the problem.

You let out a deep breath. “Jisung, I—”

“Then let me prove it,” he whispered. “Give me one last chance. Let me fight for you, for our family.”

Silence stretched between you.

Then, you reluctantly said, “…one last chance.”

Jisung let out a broken sob, he quickly got up and pressed his forehead against yours, then cupped your face before whispering, “I won't let you down ever again.”

He then pulled you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you so tightly it almost hurt.

But deep down, a part of you wondered.

Would things really change?

Or were you just delaying the inevitable heartbreak?

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

The next few months felt… different. Not perfect, not magically healed overnight, but different.

Jisung started coming home earlier—first by an hour, then two. At first, the kids were hesitant, unsure if this was temporary, but slowly, their walls began to lower. Jihoon started showing him his drawings again. Jisoo asked him to help with her homework. Minsoo hesitated before ballet practice, glancing at him nervously.

“I’ll be there,” Jisung promised.

And this time, he was.

He still made mistakes—forgot to pack Jihoon’s lunch one morning, burned dinner when he tried to help. But instead of brushing it off or making excuses, he tried again. He listened more. He asked questions. He showed up.

And you?

You watched. You waited. You guarded your heart, afraid to believe in him again. But every night, when he reached for your hand—just a small touch, a silent reassurance—you found yourself hesitating less and less.

Maybe love wasn’t enough to fix everything. But effort? Effort could.

And for the first time in a long time, Jisung was finally trying.

[gothicflowers]

damn why did Kyle’s ass block us tho

Continuing this Gaz blurb

*4 months later*

Gaz still felt guilty, and even worse… he couldn’t get off without recalling the way your body moved and voice sounded that night. Gaz was ruined. The innocent pictures he had of you when you two went to the beach once were like a playboy magazine to him. He tried a few hookups from shitty pubs but none compared to how you made him feel. Loved, warm, safe… happy.

He tried going on a few dates… one he accidentally called her your name as they were making out in his car. The other looked like you but lacked personality. Needless to say karma was biting Kyle in the ass.

“So you blocked her, after you took her to the fanciest steakhouse, wine back at her place while sharing secrets… and had the best shag of your life” soap says from the other side of the aircraft. “And let’s not forget all the cute couple shit you two had been doing”

“Who we talking about” ghost questions.

“Lass that Gaz was seeing months ago, and bloody blew it after a quick shag from the sound of it” soap snickers.

“I thought you were still seeing her” ghost questions.

“I didn’t think I’d actually sleep with her, that wasn’t my goal. And no, it’s been a while” gaz defensively replied.

Soap pinches the bridge of his nose “so your original plan was essentially a break off date”.

Gaz shrugs “I didn’t want her last memory of me to be me saying see you later after our usual Sunday walk. Plus we were never technically together”.

Prices eyebrows raised “So you just strung her along for a month and you were going to ghost her regardless of how the night ended”.

“Well… yeah and it was actually more like five months” gaz sheepishly replied.

The men went silent as they gathered their thoughts. Price being the first to speak up after a painful awkward silence “five months, you bastard she probably was falling in love with you, then you decided to pull the shittiest move a man can make”

“I panicked” Gaz shrugs and diverts his eyes from his captains burning gaze.

Ghost chuckles “wrong, you premeditated disappearing from her life. Sounds like you got a fear of commitment”.

Gaz defensive responds “I do not, it’s just with what we do it’s not worth the risk. I mean what if something happens”

“Sounds exactly like something a person with commitment issues would say” ghost quickly replied.

Soap decides to add fuel to the fire “Aye didn’t you do the same thing with the last gal you liked. Maybe it’s the chase you like. Love ‘em and leave ‘em“.

“Fuck off soap” Gaz responds trying to control his irritation.

Price sighs “I didn’t realize how much of my life I wasted having that mentality when I was your age. Had some fun one night stands but the loneliness catches up real quick. Granted things are turning up for me but boy do I feel like I missed out on that young love”.

Gaz starts to think about what price said. After a plane ride home in deep thought he asks price one last question before departing base “So what should I do to get her back”

Prices brows furrowed “You want something optimistic or something realistic”

“Fuck, realistic I guess” gaz leans against the doorframe of prices base office.

Price stands next to a filing cabinet and shakes his head “Honestly I’ll be amazed if she gives you as much as a moment to explain. But if she’s does let you, be honest about why you left and apologize. No point in lying when you have everything to gain and you can’t lose what you’ve already lost Sargent” price gives him a sincere look “regardless of how it turns out you need to let this be a teaching moment. Because maybe she doesn’t take you back, maybe life sends someone else your way. But if you get that lucky you know better than to fuck it up like this ever again”.

Gaz nods “Would flowers be a nice addition to the apology”.

Price smirks “I don’t think flowers will help your cause much, but maybe it’s sweeten her up”.

Gaz nods “thanks, see you later captain”

Gaz needs a plan to get you back, forever hopefully.

*the next day*

She wasn’t even home. So Gaz decides on waiting to see if you’ll come home anytime soon by sitting on your front door steps for two hours. He has no plans to leave until he sees your pretty face.

Gaz scrolls endlessly on his phone when the sound of heels awaken his senses, only to actually look up when he hears your voice “What are you doing here” you very clearly are not happy to see him.

Gaz stands up with flowers in his hand, clearing his voice he carefully starts his plan “I came to explain, but more importantly apologize”. Gaz sheepishly said.

Your eyes look down at the flowers in his hand, appalled. “No need honestly, I’ve moved on and I think you should to”.

Shit this isn’t going well Gaz thinks. Time to take the soft puppy dog approach. He takes a step forward to you and his eyes fill with hurt “Would you at least let me explain, if you don’t want to hear it I’ll leave now but at least let me be honest as to why I ran off”

You huff defeated, hard to say no when he’s looking at you like that but you can’t give in. “Nothing you can say will change my mind”.

“My job. It’s dangerous and I was worried that it wouldn’t work out because of the demands. And I didn’t plan on sleeping with you. Honestly I just wanted you to have a nice night before I disappeared” gaz trying to reach for your hand, you move back.

“That’s great Kyle. Well my boyfriend just left his office and I’m making dinner, so I really don’t have time for this” you fumble with your keys, as they slip to the ground Gaz picks them up and unlocks to door for you.

“At least let me help carry all this in for you and I’ll be on my way” he politely asked. Praying you’ll let him in.

You sigh a defeated “Fine”. You walk in the door first as Gaz grabs the rest of the bags on the porch. He watches as your hips sway, he can feel the blood in body start to boil. Stay calm, stay fucking calm.

Your home still smells like fresh cotton and lavender. Still perfectly tidy and comfortable. He looks over at that corner sofa where you two made out. He closes the front door and walks to the kitchen and sets the groceries on the counter, he notices a silver watch with a rather large band. Must be a big fella. That’s when he hears the front door open and close. A heavy set of footsteps approaches silently.

“I think you should get going now” you say plainly avoiding Kyle’s burning gaze. He hurt you too much for you to have a moment of doubt.

A deep voice speaks as the footsteps stop at the kitchen “Sargent”.

Gaz turns around to the voice in the room and swallows hard.

“Captain”

Pt.3

[alwaysanundertone]

high sex drive | poly! marauders x fem! reader

hurt/comfort + smut

TW: NSFW, piv, non-protected sex, oral (f/m receiving)

Sirius was drawing patterns on your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing the supple skin there ever so slowly while his head rested on your belly. Your other two boyfriends were cuddling each other, they were all spent after coming many times, so why weren’t you?

You found every touch maddening, it didn’t make sense for you to be so wound up; it wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten off, because you had, and plenty of times.

The problem was your sex drive. Your desire wasn’t something that your ex boyfriends accepted, nor did they deem it normal, one of them even suggested to go see a sex therapist one time, and you did. The session failed to give you answers, and after some time you just gave up, resigning yourself to a life of not voicing your own needs.

It went good, as good as faking being satisfied would go, but it wasn’t that bad after all. With these guys, though, it was really difficult to just pretend.

“Love?”

You looked up, finding three pairs of eyes focused on you. “Mh?”

“Where did you go, dove? You’ve been awfully quiet. Sirius just asked you if you are hungry, we thought about ordering something, is pizza good?”

You refrained from blushing, hating the fact that you weren’t able to mask your true feelings even in a peaceful moment like that. “Sorry, I’ve just been lost in my own thoughts, I guess” You chuckled, sounding suspicious even to your own ears. “Pizza’s good, thank you”

You felt Sirius mouth closing over your inner thighs, its teeth piercing the supple skin there, making you gasp. “Come on, darling, you know you can tell us anything”

The thing was that every boyfriend you had started this conversation like this, telling you that it was okay, that he would have taken care of you, and then when they found out that they couldn’t change you, they’d start to call you a nympho, making you ashamed of yourself. So no, you weren’t sure you could tell them anything.

“You’re doing it again, love” James was looking at you through pleading eyes, it was really hard to resist him when he was acting like this, but you had to. The guys were the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and you weren’t willingly letting them go for something as stupid as your sex drive.

“Oh, uh” You blushed. “I think I’m just kind of tired, you know? Nothing crazy”

There was a moment of silence, then Remus spoke up. “This thing won’t work if you’re keeping stuff from us, dove. You have to understand the importance of trust, if you don’t want to talk about it now, fine, but at least tell us the main topic that’s bothering you so much you’re not even listening to us when we’re talking to you”

His words felt like a harsh slap to your cheek, bringing true tears to the surface, which you tried to fight against, to no avail.

“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, I do trust you, it’s just-“

“Was sex too much? Were you unconfortable? You’ve been like this since we had sex, did we hurt you?”

Sirius sounded horrified, and you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of your mouth, you had to fix this.

“No, no it’s quite the opposite actually” They were all looking at you expectantly, you sighed. “It’s just- I have a high sex drive, okay? And I hate it, I know it’s twisted and disgusting and not right but I need to get off multiple times a day and sometimes having sex worsens the situation because then I keep wanting more and I hate it, you evet got me off so many times I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” Now that the words were comung out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them. “And I’ve been to sex therapists but they don’t know how to turn this off and just- I’m so sorry you’re probably regretting even-“

“Do not finish that sentence for the love of God”

You furrowed your brows. “Sirius what-“

“No, I should be the one saying sorry, I’ve been torturing you for the past hour and I didn’t even notice it.”

“And you’re not disgusting” James piped in.

“Dove, it’s nothing crazy, we can just-“

“No you can’t fix it.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth even if you tried, years of shame weighting you down. “Every ex that I had told me that they could fix it but it just doesn’t go away and I know it’s a burden” You pressed your hands to your face, hating this situation and hating yourself even more for letting it happen.

“Dove, would you please let us finish?” You nodded, your hands firmly locked in place. “Okay, I was trying to say that you can tell us if you’re needy and we’ll be really happy to help. There’s three of us, and if we aren’t available, there are your toys, you know? I don’t know what douchebags you dated, but this would never be a burden to us” His eyes were pleading you to believe him, and you found yourself wanting to.

“I think it’s anything but a burden, darling” You blushed slightly at Sirius, who was now laying on his belly, his head hovering right above your centre. You squirmed unconfortably, he smirked at you. “I’m being mean, aren’t I? Hovering just above you, so close yet so out of touch” His lips were now grazing your earlobe, making you shiver head to toe, the movement of his hands on your inner thigh maddening. “Such a pretty little thing, so flustered, what do you want now, love?”

You tried to tell him, but being vocal about your needs was something you weren’t used to, especially after years of slut shaming in your past relationship. You tried to avoid his question, wriggling your hips. “You know what I want”

He tsked. “No, I don’t. Do you want my mouth?” He lightly kissed you above your panties and shorts, making you grunt. “Mh, interesting. Maybe it’s my fingers that you want?” He caressed your nipples over the thin fabric of your -James’s- shirt. “My cock?”

The moment was interrupted by a pornographic grunt, coming from a very flustered James. “Fuck that’s so hot” He palmed his dick over his boxer briefs, making you blush.

“Look at him, darling, you’re making him needy. I think we should give him a show.”

You whimpered. “Sirius, please”

“I can give you everything you want, love. Just ask me”

You swallowed your pride. “I want your mouth, please”

He tutted. “Where do you want it? Here?” He grazed your forehead, the slightest touch sending you ablaze with need.

“No, Sirius, fuck, I want it on my pussy, please eat me out, I’m begging you” You couldn’t recognize your own voice, it sounded breathy, restrained, too close to begging.

“Gladly, darling” He pushed your shorts down, ripping the soft fabric of your panties in two. You didn’t have time to complain, his mouth immediately landing right on your clit.

His tongue started massaging the little bud, making you gasp as he flicked it repeatedly, moaning while doing so.

“You’re so wet, darling, I’m kind of mad, you know? You were really trying to keep this from me, from us” You shivered as you felt his index finger teasing your hole slowly, making you arch your back.

As he entered you, Remus was right above you, his dick in his hand, stroking your cheek with his free one. “Open up, dove, make me feel good”

He didn’t have to ask twice, your mouth opening right as Sirius thrusted into you with his fingers. “Fuck, she’s so wet James, fuck the show come here”

Suddenly, all three of your boyfriends were on you, James lining the crown of his cock at your entrance as Sirius lips closed right on your clit, sucking on it hardly. You felt one of Remus’s hands right over your right nipples, pinching it slightly, making you arch your back.

Your head was spinning, you felt awfully close to orgasming. “Fuck, love if you squeeze me like that I won’t last”

“That’s fine” Sirius piped in. “That’s why there’s three of us, to keep her satisfied” He tutted as you tried to close your thighs. “That isn’t nice now love, is it? Keep them open for us, stay still”

You loved when he was mean during sex, loved how he made you feel like you were at his mercy. “Sirius, close, god”

He chuckled. “You’re already coming, aren’t you? You’ve been such a good girl, telling us what you need, I think you deserve to come” You felt Remus’s cock swelling in your mouth, you rushed to swallow every drop of him, trying to focus on it, but it was difficult when you had two of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen between your thighs.

“Come now, darling. Be a good girl and come for us”

It was all it took for you to explode, your mouth wide open, eyes shut as you gripped Sirius head with all your force. He wasn’t complaining, though, still lapping at you, while James got off inside of you, his thrust loosing force and rhythm.

Just as you were coming down from your high, you felt another cock probing at your entrance.

“What…”

“Hush, love, I think you got one more in you, don’t you?”

You weren’t able to respond, your long-haired boyfriend immediately started rutting into you, his hips hitting the back of your thighs at a punishing rhythm.

“You’re so hot, fuck” The sounded that came out of you were pornographic, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, you could already tell that this orgasm was going to shake you thoroughly.

All you could manage to do, to say, was chant your boyfriends’ name like a prayer.

“Come on now, dove, give us another” Remus leaned down to kiss you, his tongue caressing yours, you couldn’t help but moan in his open mouth.

You obliged, drenching Sirius’s cock as your brain completely shut down. You could feel your boyfriend coming inside of you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself down to Earth.

You found yourself in a hot tub, James massaging your shoulders behind you while Remus stood kneeling outside of it, rubbing your feet.

“How do you feel? Good?”

You hummed, looking up at your long-haired boyfriend, your hand reaching up caress his face.

“Really, love? Me and Remus are both cuddling you, and it’s him you reward?” James’s tone had no bite in it, still you reached your other hand behind his head, scratching his scalp.

“Hey, it’s me who ate her out, it’s only fair, really” He winked at you.

There was a bit of silence, then you felt Remus hands wondering up your thighs.

“What-“

He smiled at you. “I think I can get another one out of you, just relax against Jamie and let me do the work”

You moaned lightly, nuzzling against your boyfriend’s toned chest, wondering what you’ve done to deserve them.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓀𝑒𝓎 Our Girl: Growing Up | 𝒮𝑜, 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃’, 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃’, 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐵𝓎 𝑀𝑒

summary: leah and jordan are finally made aware of the extent of abuse monkey has suffered at the hands of mark

our girl: growing up masterlist

“Honestly, Mum. I don’t know what he was thinking,” Leah sat at the kitchen table, elbows resting on the surface as she rubbed her temples in frustration. Jordan and Amanda sat across from her, mirroring her serious expression, “You should have seen acting the way he was at the match. It’s no wonder that Monkey is so… terrified of him.”

Amanda’s expression darkened, “Did he really say that? In front of everyone?”

“Yeah, without a care in the world,” Leah sighed, nodding in agreement, “He just came up to us at the end– And he was loud enough for everyone else to hear!”

“You’re kidding?” Amanda’s voice was laced with disbelief.

Jordan let out a humourless laugh, “We’re not. It’s like that man has no shame now. Like, he doesn’t even try to hide it anymore, Amanda.”

Before either Leah or Amanda could respond, the shrill ring of Leah’s phone cut through the tense atmosphere. Instinctively, she reached for it, her stomach twisting as she saw the caller ID.

“Who is it?” Jordan asked, curiously as she noted the worried expression on her girlfriend’s face.

“It’s Monkey,” Leah murmured, an uneasy feeling creeping into her chest.

The three of them exchanged a look, dread settling between them like a heavy fog.

Leah quickly swiped to answer, pressing the phone to her ear, “Monkey?”

A trembling whisper came through the line, barely audible over shaky breaths, “L… Le! I need… I need your help. Please.”

“What’s wrong, my girl?” Leah shot up from her chair, her heartbeat hammering in her ears, “Where are you? I’m coming. I’m coming right now!”

“I… I need you, Le. Please. Help me,” Your voice cracked, choked with fear, “I… I’m scared, Le. I’m so– I… I don’t want him to hurt me. Not again.”

Leah’s grip on her phone tightened, “I’m coming, Monkey. I’m coming. Just… Just stay on the phone, yeah? Don’t hang up, alright?”

“O… Okay,” You shakily replied.

“Where’s my keys?” Leah frantically scanned the kitchen, “Where are they? I can’t see them anywhere! I need them. I need to get to Monkey. Now.”

“They’re right here, Bubba,” Amanda motioned to them, handing them over.

Jordan was already on her feet, “I’m coming with you.”

Amanda’s face had gone pale, “Be careful. And bring her home.”

Leah barely nodded, her phone still glued to her ear before she was out the front door and climbing into her car, her entire world narrowing to one singular thought.

Get to you. Now.

“Le, slow down,” Jordan warned, gripping the dashboard as Leah sped through the dark streets.

“I’m not stopping until we get to her,” Leah’s voice was razor-sharp, her knuckles turning white against the steering wheel.

Jordan exhaled a sigh, “Le, listen I know you’re worried, and so am I. But if you don’t slow down, you’re going to end up in a wreck before we even get to her.”

Leah barely registered Jordan’s words, her mind solely focused on you–on the terrified, broken voice that had been whispering through the speakerphone for the past five minutes.

“Please hurry, Le,” Your voice trembled, cracking under the weight of fear, “I’m… I’m scared. I don’t want him to hurt me again.”

Leah’s jaw was clenched, stomach twisting painfully as her grip on the wheel tightened, “We’re on our way, Monkey. Just… Just hang in there, alright? Stay on the phone with us. We’ll be there soon.”

“Le,” Your voice was small, almost childlike, “I’m… I’m really scared.”

“I know, my girl,” Leah exhaled sharply, forcing herself to keep her emotions in check, “I know you’re scared, but we’re coming. Just stay on the phone and talk to Jordy, yeah? Talk to Jordy for me.”

“Uh huh,” You mumbled hesitantly. After a moment, your voice wavered again, “Jordy?”

“Hi, little one, I’m here,” Jordan reassured you in a soothing tone of voice, her own voice being a steady contrast to Leah’s barely contained rage, “We’re right around the corner now. Just hold on for us, okay? You’re being so brave, Monkey.”

“I’m scared,” You whimpered in fear, “I… I don’t like this.”

Jordan swallowed a lump that formed in her throat, “I know, little one. But just a few more minutes, and you’ll be safe in the car with us, yeah?”

“Please hurry,” You sniffed, your breath shaky, “Please, I… I don’t want him to find me.”

Leah clenched her jaw so tightly it hurt. If she ever saw your father again–no, when she saw him again–she didn’t trust herself to hold back.

None of that was important right now. You were her priority. Getting you out of there was all that mattered.

“You’re near?” You asked.

“We’re round the corner, my girl,” Leah replied as she turned the corner.

Her heart leapt into her throat.

There you were. 

Small. Shaking. Curled in on yourself near the edge of the pavement with your arms wrapped tightly around your knees. The loose-fitting football kit you were still wearing was drenched in the night air, clinging to your trembling frame. You looked so tiny–so scared.

Leah slammed on the brakes, barely shifting the car into park before she threw the door open and sprinted toward you, “Monkey!” 

Your head snapped up at her voice, your breath hitching as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks, “L… Le,” You whimpered.

Leah was on her knees in front of you in an instant, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug. You collapsed into her, your body wracked with silent sobs as you buried your face in her shoulder.

“I’m here, my girl,” Leah murmured, her voice soft but unshakable, “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

You clutched at her jacket with trembling fingers, holding on as if she might disappear if you let go, “You… You came,” You choked out, “I thought… I thought he would find me. I thought he would hurt me again.”

Leah felt something deep inside her crack.

“Of course I am,” Leah whispered, pressing a firm kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll always be here when you need me. You don’t have to be afraid anymore, okay? I’ve got you.”

You peered up at her, searching her eyes, “You… You promise?”

Leah exhaled shakily, “I… I can’t promise, my girl. But I swear I will do everything in my power to keep you safe now. He won’t touch you again.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Your voice broke,  “I don’t want to go back to that house. Please don’t take me back.”

Leah tightened her arms around you, her decision already made, “You’re coming home with me, my girl.”

There was no need for her to say anything else. She just scooped you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing, and settled into the backseat of the car. Jordan had already moved to the driver’s seat, eyes dark with determination.

The warmth of the car was an overwhelming contrast to the cold night air, but you still trembled. Your small hands clung to Leah’s coat, refusing to let go. Leah pulled you against her chest, wrapping both arms securely around you.

“You’re safe now, my girl,” Leah whispered, rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back.

Jordan glanced at the rearview mirror, her brows furrowed in concern, “She looks absolutely freezing, Le.”

“I know,” Leah murmured, shifting to wrap more of her coat around you as she pressed another kiss to your temple, her voice unwavering, “We’ll get her warm as soon as we’re home.”

“Mum? We’re back,” Leah called as she stepped inside, tightening her grip on you.

“Oh, thank God,” Amanda’s voice was laced with relief as she saw you, before turning to Leah with a firm look, “You’d better have not been speeding in the car, Leah Cathrine!”

“What– No! Of course not,” Leah huffed, shaking her head, obviously not going to tell her the truth.

“The way you rushed out of here, I had my doubts…” Amanda raised an eyebrow, “And you’d better have not been speeding with Monkey in the car, either!”

Leah exhaled sharply, not in the mood to argue, “Mum, I need to get Monkey warm. She’s freezing and trembling like a leaf. I’m running her a bath.”

Amanda’s expression softened as she turned to you, “Hi, Monkey.”

“Hi, ‘Manda,” You barely managed a whisper.

“I have an idea,” Amanda crouched slightly, keeping her voice gentle, “How about after your bath when you’re all comfy in pyjamas, I make a hot chocolate? It won’t be as good as David, but I promise it’ll still be pretty great.”

You hesitated before giving a tiny nod, “O…Okay.”

Leah pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Come on, my girl.” She murmured, leading you upstairs, and guiding you gently while you clung to her.

As soon as you reached the bathroom, you sank onto the closed toilet lid, too cold and drained to move as Leah busied herself with the taps.

The sound of rushing water filled the space, steam curling into the air. Leah turned back to you with a small smile, “Do you want a lot of bubbles? Or just a few?”

You didn’t answer. You just stared into space, you didn’t know what to say.

Leah watched you carefully, her heart aching at how small you looked, curled in on yourself, trembling. She kept her voice soft, and gentle, “Monkey?”

You blinked slowly, still shivering before shrugging a little, “A… A lot?”

“A lot of bubbles, coming right up,” Leah smiled and poured in a generous amount of bubble bath and sat on the edge of the tub, swirling her hand in the warm water as the bubbles grew. She glanced over, taking in the sight of you–curled in on yourself while sitting on the toilet lid, your arms wrapped tightly around you, and looking so small.

“I’ll let you get in, yeah?” Leah murmured, standing up and wiping her hands on her joggers, “I’ll be in my bedroom if you need me.”

You nodded stiffly with your gaze fixed on the tiled floor. Leah hesitated, waiting to see if you’d say anything else, but when you remained silent, she turned towards the door.

“W… Wait,” Leah’s hands were about to grip the handle when your voice, small and hesitant, stopped her.

Leah turned back immediately, “You okay, my girl?”

Your fingers curled into the hem of your football shorts. You swallowed, not meeting her eyes.

“Can you… Can you stay outside? On… on the other side of the door?” You mumbled.

Leah’s expression softened, “Of course, Monkey. Whatever you need,” She said, before stepping outside, pulling the door almost closed but leaving a small gap, just enough to show you she was still there.

You heard her settle against the wall, the quiet rustle of fabric as she sat down.

Taking a shaky breath, you forced yourself to move, peeling off your kit piece by piece. Your body ached as you climbed into the tub, the heat of the water making your bruises sting. You hissed, biting your lip as you sank lower.

The warmth helped, but it didn’t take away the exhaustion that weighed on you, nor the way your limbs felt too heavy.

For a few minutes, you just sat there, knees drawn up, letting the water lap at your skin. But then, as you reached for the shampoo bottle, your hands trembled.

You poured some into your palm and hesitated. The moment you tried to lift your arms, you felt a sharp, searing pain shoot through your ribs.

You sucked in a breath, wincing, “Ow,” You whimpered in pain.

You tried again, but your limbs felt weak. Useless.

The frustration burned behind your eyes and your throat tightened.

You hated this.

You hated feeling this weak.

Your fingers clenched into a fist, nails digging into your palm. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t do it.

And the worst part? You knew you wanted–needed the help.

But if you called Leah in… then she’d see the dark, ugly marks trailing along your ribs, your back and arms.

You knew she’d see the proof of everything–You didn’t want to see her face when she looked at you, and you didn’t want her to see how broken you were.

But your arms hurt. Your ribs ached. And no matter how much you willed yourself to move, you couldn’t.

“L… Le,” Your voice wavered, a lump formed in your throat, ”I… I need help.”

The door opened instantly, and Leah stepped in, her movements were quick but careful.

But the second she took in the sight of you–curled up in the tub, your arms wrapped around yourself and the bruises littering your skin–she froze.

“Oh…” Leah’s breath hitched, “Oh my God,” She looked horrified as a storm flashed behind her eyes, something dark, something furious.

Until her gaze flickered back to you, and she saw how small you looked. How vulnerable.

Leah inhaled sharply through her nose, forcing herself to push the anger aside. That could wait. Right now, you needed her.

“I… I need your help to wash my hair,” You stuttered out.

“Alright, my girl,” Leah murmured, kneeling beside the tub, “That’s not a problem. Lets’ get your hair washed, yeah?”

You nodded wordlessly.

Leah rolled her sleeves up, scooping some water in her hands before gently wetting your hair. Her touch was light, and delicate, as if she was afraid you might shatter under her hands.

Working in silence, Leah carefully lathered the shampoo before rinsing it out. Her fingers gently massaged your scalp, slow and soothing. She could feel the tension in your body, the way you were still curled in on yourself.

She didn’t rush. She didn’t push. She just kept moving, steady and calm.

When she finished, she grabbed a towel and held it open, “Come on then, out you get, my girl.”

You hesitated, but eventually, you let her wrap you up, her arms tightening just slightly around you.

Leah pressed a kiss to the top of your damp hair, “I’ve got you, my girl.”

“You get dressed, yeah? I’ll be outside the door. I’m not going far,” Leah reassured gently, her voice softer than usual.

“O… Okay. Do… Don’t go far,” You mumbled, clutching the pyjamas she handed you.

“I won’t, my girl. I promise,” Leah promised you before moving to step outside of the bedroom door, closing it with a quiet click before leaning against it. She pressed her back against the door as she tried to steady her breathing. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms. 

The image of your bruised skin, the way you had flinched when she touched you–it was burned into her mind, and the rage in her chest only grew heavier with each passing second.

How could he do that to you? 

You were so young. You were small. You didn’t deserve any of this. Swallowing hard, Leah tried to keep it together. But when she heard footsteps on the stairs, she didn’t even need to look up to know it was Jordan.

The moment Jordan reached the landing and caught sight of Leah’s face, she knew there was something wrong.

“Le,” Jordan’s voice was cautious as she stepped forward, “Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked, stepping closer.

Leah let out a sharp, ragged breath, her whole body vibrating with tension. And then, suddenly, it all came spilling out.

“She’s covered in bruises, Jord,” Her voice cracked, and she slammed a fist against the wall beside her, “Fucking covered in them. That bastard–”

Jordan’s jaw tightened, “Leah–”

“No, don’t,” Leah’s voice wavered, her eyes burning with fury, “If you’re going to tell me to calm down then I don’t want to fucking hear it,” She turned on Jordan, her whole body trembling.

“I wasn’t going to,” Jordan murmured, exhaling a sigh and without hesitation, pulled Leah into a hug.

And just like that, Leah broke. The anger, the fear, the helplessness–it all came crashing down at once, and before she could stop it, she was sobbing into Jordan’s shoulder.

Jordan didn’t say anything. She just held on, letting Leah get it all out.

“I swear to God, if I ever see him again, I won’t be able to stop myself,” Leah whispered, her voice shaking, “I’ll fucking kill him, Jordan. He hurt her. He hurt our Monkey. And she was too scared to tell anyone about it. I knew it was bad… but fuck, I didn’t know it was this bad!”

Leah’s breath hitched, the anger cracking into something else–something raw and broken. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, blinking back the tears that blurred her vision.

“She’s here now,” Jordan told her, squeezing Leah a bit tighter, “With us. And she’s not going back.”

Leah nodded sharply, exhaling through gritted teeth, “I need to make the call to social services. I need to tell them that she is here.”

Jordan hesitated for a moment, “If you think that is the right thing to do.”

“As much as I don’t want to, I have to,” Leah muttered, voice thick with emotion, “I have to play by their rules.”

Jordan sighed, rubbing a hand over her face, “At least make the call when Monkey is settled and in bed. She’s been through enough today.”

Before Leah could respond, the door behind her cracked open.

You stood there, small and hesitant, wrapped in the warmth of the pyjamas and fluffy socks that Leah had brought you earlier in the week. They were slightly too big, but that only made them cosier.

Jordan’s face softened instantly, “Hey, speak of the devil. How’re you doing, little one?”

You hesitated, “Were you… Were you guys talking about me?”

Leah forced a small smile, crouching down to your level, “We’re just concerned about you, my girl. We’re going to do everything we can to make sure you’re safe.”

Your eyes darted between them, uncertainty clouding your expression, “I… I don’t want to go back there.”

“No, no,” Leah’s stomach twisted as she reached out, brushing a hand over your arm, “Not if I can help it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, “H… He scares me, Le.”

Leah’s heart ached at the broken whisper. She cupped your cheek gently, “I know, my girl. I know you are. But I’m going to do my very best to make sure that doesn’t happen, alright?”

“O… Okay,” You hesitated, giving a tiny nod.

“Right then,” Jordan sensed the shift in mood and clapped her hands together with a grin, “I know for a fact there’s a hot chocolate downstairs with your name on it.”

The change in your expression was instant. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a genuine flicker of happiness in your eyes.

“Wow. That looks great, Monkey!” Amanda praised, smiling warmly at you as she admired the LEGO set you had just finished assembling.

“T… Thanks,” You stuttered, your fingers fidgeting slightly with one of the pieces, “Can I build another set?”

“Yeah, we should!” Jacob chipped in eagerly, already reaching for another box.

Leah glanced at the clock, her expression shifting slightly. It was only 8:30 pm. Tomorrow was going to be long enough without you staying up for longer.

“It’s getting a bit late now. Let’s put it aside for now and you can continue it tomorrow, can’t you?” Leah suggested, bracing herself for the inevitable protest.

“Nooo,” You whined, shaking your head stubbornly. Your grip on the LEGO tightened.

“Mhm, I think so. Judging by the tiredness in your eyes and the whining, it might be bedtime, hm?” Leah teased, arching a brow.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “N… No, not yet! I’m still buildin’ LEGO, Le!”

Leah didn’t waver, pursing her lips, “And it’ll still be there for you tomorrow. It’s not going anywhere.”

You pretended to ignore her, prying open another set, hands moving faster.

“Monkey,” Leah gave you a warning look.

“It won’t take long to do!” You insisted, ignoring her gaze and emptying the contents of the LEGO on the carpet.

Leah exhaled a sigh, shaking her head, “Er no, I don’t think so madam,” Gently attempting to retrieve the LEGO set out of your hands, “I’ve already said no.”

You glared at her, hugging the LEGO set to your chest like it was a lifeline, “You’re being mean!”

“That’s okay to think that,” Leah replied, keeping her voice calm, “But it’s been a very long day. I know you’re tired now, aren’t you?”

“Give it back!” You whined, your voice growing sharper as you snatched the LEGO back from Leah.

Leah sucked in a surprise breath. That was new.

“Monkey,” Leah said firmly, shocked where this sudden misbehaviour had come from, “You don’t snatch. I’ve already said no, three times now. It’s bedtime.”

Your heart pounded. Bedtime meant quiet, and quiet meant your thoughts creeping in. The darkness, the loneliness–it was too much.

You shook your head quickly, refusing to let go of the LEGO set. You went as far as to rip open one of the packets, sending the small bricks spilling onto the floor.

“Hey, little one,” Jordan stepped in with a gentle but firm look, “I think it would be a good idea if we listened and put the LEGO away for tonight, yeah?”

“Don’t wanna,” You murmured, tearing into the next packet as though the plastic was a distraction from the lump in your throat, “I don’t need to go to bed.”

Leah exhaled a sigh, wordlessly collecting the spilled pieces from the carpet.

“Leah!” You turned and shot her a glare, “I was building that!” You shouted, voice shaking more than you wanted it to.

“And I’ve already told you–not tonight,” Leah said, still gentle but unwavering as she placed the LEGO out of reach, “I think you need to start using your listening ears, my girl.”

“No, I don’t want to go to bed. I want to build more LEGO!” Your voice rose in panic as you threw yourself onto the floor.

Leah didn’t bat an eyelid. She was more prepared for the emotional outburst while Jordan and Amanda exchanged shocked glances, and Jacob sat frozen, confused.

“It’s bedtime, Monkey,” Leah repeated, watching as she watched you have a complete meltdown in the space of less than five minutes.

“Sweetheart,” Amanda tried a more gentle approach, “I know today’s been a lot. I think getting a good night’s sleep might help, don’t you?” She tried her luck to get you to listen.

“No! I don’t wanna go to bed,” You mumbled, barely glancing in Amanda’s direction, “I don’t want to!”

Leah rubbed her temples, this was completely different to how it had been earlier on. The exhaustion of the day was catching up to all of them, but especially you, “Right, come on, enough of this. Bed, now.”

“I don’t wanna,” You whined, not making any attempt to get up from the floor.

Leah sighed, but this time, she softened slightly, crouching down next to you, “Monkey, listen to me.”

You turned away, arms crossed, “I… I’m not going! You can’t make me!”

“I know bedtime might feel a bit scary tonight,” Leah murmured, rubbing your back for a moment before gently taking your hand, “But you’re safe now. You’re not alone. I’ll be right there, okay?”

“No!” You screamed.

Leah didn’t hesitate, “Alright, that’s enough,” She murmured, scooping you up off the floor in one swift motion, “Bedtime, now.”

You let out a yelp of surprise, “B… But Le–”

“No buts,” Leah’s voice was firm, her grip secure as she held you against her hip, “It’s clear that you’re tired, I’m not going to stand here and argue with you about this now, so come on.”

Your pre-teenage attitude was nothing Leah or Jordan were prepared for, in comparison to the 360 mood change.

Your body tensed, but the warmth of being held was grounding. Your limbs twitched in weak protest but ultimately sagging against her.

Leah adjusted you in her arms, rubbing soothing circles into your back, “Come on, now. Let’s say goodnight.”

You huffed, glancing at Jordan, “Night, Jordy.”

“Night, little one,” Jordan smiled softly, ruffling your hair.

You turned to glance in Amanda’s direction, “Night, ‘Manda.”

“Night, sweetheart. Sleep well,” Amanda said kindly.

“Goodnight, Monkey!” Jacob grinned, peering up from his phone.

“Night, J,” You grumbled, slumping your shoulders. Then, desperate for another delay, you blurted, “Wait! I need to say goodnight to Bella!”

Jordan chuckled in amusement, “Pretty sure she’ll follow you up.”

“I’m thirsty,” You tried next.

“Oh, how convenient,” Jordan teased, rolling her eyes, “I’ll bring one up to you in bed.”

“Hello! I’m home!” David called as he stepped inside the house.

Your eyes lit up. A perfect distraction, “David’s home!”

“Oh, I thought I heard your voice,” The older man smiled, stepping into the room, “Well, this is a nice surprise having you here. Are you here for the night?”

“I’m just trying to get her up to bed but it’s proving difficult,” Leah said, shifting her grip on you as she shared a playful knowing look with David, “Maybe you’d have better luck?”

“You heard Le, time for bed champ,” David ruffled your hair, gesturing in the direction of the stairs.

Your face scrunched in defeat, “Fine.”

Leah hid a smile, carrying you up the stairs to stop you from making an escape,  “I’ll be back down once she’s settled.”

“You sound very grown up,” Jacob snickered.

Leah huffed, rolling her eyes, “Shut it, you.”

“Do I even want to ask what that was about?” David chuckled, amusedly, glancing at Amanda.

“Probably not, no,” Amanda responded.

“Sounds like Leah has her work cut out for her tonight,” David noted.

“Teenagers,” Jacob quipped.

“Speak for yourself,” Jordan laughed as she got up off the sofa to go make you a glass of water per your request.

“That’s not the way to the bathroom, last time I checked,” Leah noted with a raised eyebrow. She’s placed you back down on the floor once she was sure you wouldn’t try to make a break for it.

You ignored her completely, your focus snapping to something familiar on the bed. A rush of relief flooded through you as you darted into your temporary bedroom, eyes wide with excitement, “My monkey!” You gasped, snatching up the stuffed toy you thought you’d lost forever.

Leah’s stern expression softened, her arms crossing loosely over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe, “I thought you’d miss it.”

“You found it! I thought… I thought I lost it!” You clutched the plush close to your chest, the comfort of it grounding you in a way you desperately needed.

“Jacob found it on the stairs the night you left. I kept it here safe for you,” Leah explained gently.

You squeezed your stuffed toy tighter, the overwhelming emotions making your throat tighten, “I’ve missed him.”

Leah smiled faintly, “I know.”

But she didn’t give you too much time to get lost in your thoughts, “Right, come on you. Bathroom–go brush your teeth. I want to see those pearly whites,” She instructed, nudging you lightly toward the hallway.

You groaned, dragging your feet, “Pearly whites?”

“It’s just another phrase for teeth,” Leah clarified, walking beside you to make sure you actually follow through.

You begrudgingly brushed your teeth, only because Leah was watching you like a hawk the entire time. When you finished, you hesitantly turned to face her.

“Let’s have a look–” Leah leaned forward dramatically, inspecting your mouth with exaggerated scrutiny, “Ooo,  they’re lovely and shiny.”

You rolled your eyes but giggled despite yourself, “You’re silly.”

“It’s the best way to be,” Leah smirked, following as you wandered back into the bedroom. She pulled back the duvet, patting the mattress, “Right, into bed.”

You didn’t hesitate to crawl under the covers, still clutching your stuffed animal, “I’m not tired.”

Leah gave you a knowing look, “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “It’s too early to go to sleep.”

“It might be usually, but you’ve had such a long day, and tomorrow is going to be just as busy,” Leah reasoned, keeping her tone of voice soft but firm, “I just want to make sure you’ve had enough rest.”

You frowned, “J’s still awake, though.”

“Well, J is a little bit older than you, isn’t he?” Leah reminded you.

“Not fair–” You shifted restlessly, then suddenly sat up, “I’m hungry! Can I have a biscuit?”

Leah exhaled a sigh, “You’ve already eaten dinner, and you had pudding as well. And chocolate. I think if you have any more, you’re going to end up with a bit of a tummy ache, won’t you?”

You pouted, “Please, Le?”

“No, Monkey,” Leah remained firm on her decision, “Come on now, it’s time to sleep.”

You flopped back onto the pillow with a dramatic groan, “How can I sleep if I’m not tired?”

“You have to close your eyes and try,” Leah smirked, tucking you in, “Now, any more questions?”

Silence lingered for a moment before you blurted out your next question, “How much do sharks weigh?”

Leah blinked at the sudden change of topic, “I… I don’t know.”

“That’s no good,” You let out an exaggerated sigh, “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

Leah snorted, shaking her head, “I am smart, Monkey. But I don’t just have random shark facts stored in my brain.”

You frowned, “Well, Google it, then. Duh.”

Leah shot you a pointed look just as Jordan appeared in the doorway, holding a glass of water.

“Still fighting the bedtime battle?” Jordan teased, handing the glass over.

“Just a bit,” Leah deadpanned before turning back to you. She arched an eyebrow, “Alright, little miss attitude, why don’t you tell me the real reason you don’t want to sleep, hm?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the hem of the duvet, “I… I’m just not tired,” You muttered.

Jordan lingered for a moment, watching the exchange before giving Leah a knowing look. She knew you’d settle faster with just one person in the room, “I’ll leave you to it,” She murmured before quietly slipping out, pulling the door ajar behind her.

Leah waited until she was gone before lowering herself onto the edge of the bed, “Come on, Monkey. This is me you’re talking to. What’s really going on?”

Your throat tightened as you clutched your stuffed animal closer, “I… I don’t want to sleep. What if… I… I…” You struggled to get the words out.

Leah’s expression softened, “You can do it, my girl. Tell me how you’re feeling. I’m listening to you.”

“I… I don’t want you to leave me,” You said, tears pricking at your eyes.

“I’m right here, my girl,” Leah’s heart clenched, “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to be scared about that.”

“You promise?” You asked, holding out your pinky finger.

Leah wrapped her own pinky around yours, “I promise, Monkey. You’re staying here with me, I’m going to make sure of it this time,” She told you, “I love you so much, my girl.”

Your lips wobbled slightly before you whispered, “I love you too, Le.”

Leah smiled, leaning forward and running a hand through your hair, “I don’t want you to go through any more hurt or pain, and I’m going to fight to protect you. I messed up before, but I won’t let it happen this time.”

Without any hesitation, you leaned forward and threw your arms around her, “I was… I was so scared. I thought he would find me before you both arrived. I didn’t… I didn’t want him to find me.”

“I know you were,” Leah murmured, gently continuing to run her hands through your hair as she held you close, “But you’re safe now. You’re with us, and nothing is going to hurt you anymore. We’ll always keep you safe, I promise.”

You buried your face into her chest, feeling the warmth of her embrace wrapping around you like a shield, “I… I didn’t want him to hurt me. I thought he… I thought he would, Le,” Tears begin to flow, a flood of emotions finally pouring out all at once, “I don’t want to go back there–I don’t want to!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re here now, you’re here with us, and I won’t ever let him hurt you again. Okay?” Leah fought to push down her own anger, focusing instead on comforting you as she held you tight, letting you cry in her arms.

You sniffled, still not fully able to shake the fear that had gripped you, but slowly, you relaxed yourself into her arms.

Leah gently wiped away a tear from your cheek, her heart aching at the vulnerability you were showing. She held you tighter for a moment, feeling her protectiveness instincts surge as she kissed the top of your head, “I won’t let him hurt you again, I promise. No one is ever going to hurt you again,” She whispered, her voice low and soothing.

Eventually, after a few minutes, Leah pulled back just enough to look at your face, “You’re so strong, Monkey,” She said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, “And I’m so proud of you. You know that?”

You looked up at her, your eyes wide and vulnerable. You didn’t have the words, but you nodded slowly, feeling comforted by the tenderness in her eyes.

With a final reassuring squeeze, Leah helped you settle back onto your pillows, smoothing the covers around you, “I’ll stay right here until you fall asleep, okay?” She said, her voice a gentle murmur as she tucked you in snugly, “Do you want me to read you a story?” She teased.

And to Leah’s surprise, you nodded, “I want that book,” You mumbled tiredly, pointing to the familiar book cover of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone resting on the nightstand.

Leah grinned, picking up the book and flipping it open to the first page, "Mr and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much,” She began, glancing down at you with a mischievous smile, “I don’t know about that now, do you?” She joked, her playful manner still in her voice.

You were too tired to respond, but you listened to the rhythm of her voice, the warmth of it enough to make you feel safe as your eyelids began to flutter shut.

Leah, absorbed in the book, glanced down at you and noticed your half-asleep state, “I think that’s enough reading for tonight," She murmured with a soft smile, gently closing the book and careful not to disturb the peace of the room, “Sweet dreams, my girl.” She whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“Night, Le,” You mumbled, your eyes barely open as you clutched your stuffed Monkey tightly in your arms, “Love you.”

“I love you too, Monkey,” Leah smiled softly, standing up from the bed, ready to turn off the bedside light.

“No, don’t,” You panicked slightly, your voice small, “Can you… Can you leave it on, please?”

“Of course,” Leah replied with a warm nod, her heart softening at the request. She left the room quietly, pulling the door ajar just enough so she could hear if you woke up and needed her. She lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching over you until you fell asleep.

You were safe. You were home.

“She’s finally asleep,” Leah murmured as she walked back into the living room, exhaustion evident in her posture as she flopped down on the sofa beside Jordan, “I wasn’t prepared for that battle tonight.”

“You handled it well, Bubba,” Amanda reassured her with a soft smile, “I was just filling your dad in on everything that happened today.”

David hummed in disapproval, “She went off to sleep okay?”

Leah nodded as she took a seat, her eyes softening as she thought about the moment she’s just shared with you, “Yeah, she’s asleep now. Took a little while, but she’s settled now.”

Jordan glanced up from where she was sitting, a warm, knowing smile on her face, “It’s good that she’s getting some rest. It’s been a long day.

David let out a low sigh, still not entirely convinced about the situation, “I just don’t like how all of this is affecting her. It’s not right, Leah.”

Leah met his gaze, her expression firm but compassionate, “I know, I don’t like it either but I’m going to do everything I can in my power to make sure she’s safe. I’m not going to fail this time.”

Jacob looked up from his phone briefly, his casual demeanor replaced by something more serious, “I’m glad she’s got you both. It sucks what she’s been throgh,” He paused for a moment before his eyes shifted back to the screen, “But is she… okay?”

Leah exhaled softly, a slight frown tugging at her lips, “She will be. It’s just going to take a bit of time. But we’ll help her get there, one step at a time.”

“We’re here to support you, Bubba,” Amanda gave Leah a reassuring glance, “You’re not going to be alone in this. She’s got a solid support system. That counts for something.”

Leah smiled faintly, looking down at her hands for a moment, “Yeah…I just want to protect her from everything that’s happened. All of it,” Her voice softened with the weight of her words, “I won’t let anyone hurt my kid again.”

“I know you won’t,” David’s expression softened a little, though still edged with concern.

“Do you think the hot chocolate helped?” Amanda joked, shifting to keep the atmosphere in the room light with a playful smile.

“It might’ve done the trick,” Leah said with a tired grin.

“Not as good as mine, I bet,” David said with a knowing look.

Amanda shot him a playful glance, “I tried my best.”

“Did you find out what that meltdown was all about earlier?” Jordan asked, curiously.

Leah exhaled a sigh, running her hand through her hair, “Yeah… she didn’t want to sleep, because she was afraid that I would leave her. She thought that tomorrow morning she’ll have to go back to her dad’s house.”

“I see,” Jordan replied, exhaling a matching sigh, “She’s a good kid, ain’t she? She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“That scumbag never deserved her,” Leah spat, her anger resurfacing now that you were asleep, and she didn’t have to hold back.

Amanda placed a calming hand on Leah’s arm, “Bubba, I know you’re angry, but lashing out isn’t going to help.”

“Your mum’s right, sweetheart,” David added gently.

Amanda gave her a sad smile, “We need to think about what happens next, don’t we?”

Leah nodded, her thoughts already shifting to the practical next steps, “I know. I need to call Monkey’s social worker,” She mumbled, not exactly thrilled to have that conversation, but it was necessary.

It was now or never.

Leah dialed the number, her fingers hovering nervously over the screen before she placed the call, “Hello, this is Leah Williamson. I need to talk to a social worker about an ongoing case.”

“Is Monkey going to live with us now?” Jacob piped in, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“We don’t know that yet, son,” David replied with a heavy sigh, trying to follow Leah’s conversation as she explained the situation briefly.

When Leah hung up, she exhaled in relief, setting her phone down on the sofa, “They’re sending someone round tomorrow afternoon to talk to us.”

Jordan nodded, rubbing a hand over her face, “Alright. That’s good.”

Leah’s expression darkened again, “She doesn’t have anything here. Other than her pyjamas which I brought her, and her football kit, she doesn’t have clothes–nothing.”

“She didn’t have a bag with her?” David asked, frowning.

“No, she came here with clothes on her back,” Leah replied, “She’s going to need more. She needs… just– she needs stuff. Jord, go to Tesco. Grab what you can. Anything she might need.”

Jordan blinked in surprise, “Uh–what stuff?”

Leah huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “Clothes, Jord. Pyjamas. Socks. Toothbrush. Just… I don’t know. Whatever she needs. Just get it.”

Jordan shifted awkwardly, “What size is she?”

Leah groaned, rubbing her temples, “I don’t fucking know–just guess, Jord. Use your common sense!”

“Leah!” Amanda snapped, her voice sharp, “We know you’re frustrated, but don’t swear at Jordan. We have raised you better than that.”

“I… I’m sorry,” Leah quickly apologised, her anger deflating with the reprimand.

“You need to take a minute to calm down,” Amanda told her firmly, standing up and grabbing her car keys, “Look, Jord and I will go to Tesco now and grab some essentials for her. You stay here, in case Monkey needs you, okay?”

Leah nodded, finally taking a deep breath as her frustration gave way to exhaustion, “Thanks, Mum.”

“I’m coming!” Jacob insisted, wasting no time to grab his trainers, “She needs snacks. Food always helps when you’re feeling sad, don’t it?”

Amanda chuckled, nodding in agreement, “You’re right there, son. Come on then.”

“I know you’re frustrated, sweetheart, but you have to stay calm,” David told her as the two of them sat alone in the room, “You won’t be any good to Monkey if you’re letting your anger get the best of you.”

“I know, Dad. I just… I don’t want to let her down. I can’t let it happen. Not again,” Leah’s voice trembled with emotion.

David nodding in understanding, reaching forward to squeeze Leah’s knee in reassurance, “Just… don’t burn yourself out trying to fix it all at once.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Leah met his gaze, a small but grateful smile playing on her lips, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“This will be worth it in the end,” He added with a teasing grin, “Mind you, I never imagined your mum and I would become grandparents so young.”

“Le?” Jordan shifted, waking up to find Leah awake, “How long have you been–”

“Can you hear that?” Leah cut her off, gesturing to the faint nose in the background, “It sounds like…” Her words were cut short by a blood-curdling scream that shattered the night.

Leah’s heart stopped for a moment before it began racing in her chest. She shot up in bed, the panic rising in her throat, her instincts already pulling her towards the door. Jordan, Amanda and David were right behind her.

“Monkey!” Leah yelled, as she hurried into the hallway, her feet pounding against the wooden floor.

Jacob appeared out of his bedroom, half-asleep, he looked confused, “What’s that noise?”

David placed his hand on Jacob’s shoulder, “I think Monkey had a nightmare. You should go back to sleep, it’s late and you have school tomorrow,” He told him with a knowing look, “Your  sister has it under control.”

Leah burst into the room, her eyes immediately finding you thrashing under the duvet, your cries raw and panicked as you gasped for breath between sobs. Your arms flailed, hands twisting into fists as you kicked at the sheets, trying to escape something only you could see.

“Monkey! Monkey, it’s okay! You’re safe,” Leah’s voice was firm but gentle as she reached for you, but the moment her fingers brushed against your arm, you recoiled violently, another piercing scream ripping from your throat.

Jordan winced at the sound, glancing at Amanda with wide, uncertain eyes, “She’s not awake.”

“Shh, sweetheart, we’re here,” Amanda’s voice was soothing as she flicked on the lamp, casting a warm glow over the room.

Your chest heaved, breaths coming too fast, too shallow. You didn’t like the light. It was too bright, too sudden. You curled in on yourself, hands flying to your ears as a whimper escaped your lips. The noise, the movement–it was all too much.

Leah crouched beside you, hands resting on her knee and making sure she wasn’t too close, “Monkey, it’s me. It’s Le,” She said softly, “You’re safe. You’re at home, my girl.”

At the sound of her voice, your head jerked up, eyes wild and unfocused, “He… He was–” You breath hitched as your face crumpled.

“I know, my girl,” Leah’s heart clenched, nodding slowly, “But he’s not here. I promise, you’re safe.”

You let out a broken sob, still trembling, your whole body buzzing with restless energy. Leah hesitated only for a moment before reaching forward again. Only this time you didn’t flinch away when she gently wrapped her arms around you, pulling you against her chest.

“I… It was real–It felt so real,” You whimpered, clutching at her like she might disappear.

“You’re okay,” Leah murmured, rocking you slightly, “Breath with me, yeah? In… and out…”

You tried, but your breaths were still shallow, your body still twitching like you needed to move–like you couldn’t stop moving. Leah ran a hand up and down your back, grounding you.

“Feel my breathing, Monkey. Can you match mine?” Leah encouraged.

Slowly, you did. Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of Leah’s shirt as your gasps evened out, your body sagging against her as exhaustion started creeping back in.

“I’m sleepy,” You mumbled, voice thick with tears.

Leah nodded, adjusting you slightly so you were more comfortable, “I know, Monkey. I’ve got you.”

She felt it immediately–the dampness seeping through your pyjamas.

Your whole body tensed as you realised what had happened.

“I… I didn’t mean to… I–” Your voice came out small, barely above a whisper.

Leah didn’t let you finish, “It’s okay,” She said simply, squeezing you a little tighter, “You got scared, that’s all. It’s not a big deal, I promise.”

But you wouldn’t meet her eyes, curling in on yourself.

“I didn’t even feel it,” You mumbled.

“I know, my girl,” Leah soothed, “That happens sometimes when you have a really bad nightmare. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Amanda, still standing in the doorway, gave Leah a soft nod and quietly went to grab clean sheets. Jordan followed, muttering something about getting you some water.

“Come on,” Leah coaxed gently, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You hesitated, but when Leah stood and offered her hand, you took it. She helped you into the bathroom, running warm water and handing you a fresh pair of pyjamas from the improvised late night Tesco shopping trip that Jordan, Amanda and Jacob went way too overboard on clothes and toys.

Leah never rushed you, she didn’t make a big deal out of it, but instead she just talked to you softly about Coco Pops and the cartoons you could watch in the morning.

Your fear returned when it was time to return to your bedroom. The thought of being alone again sent a shiver down your spine. You clung to Leah’s arm, trembling as you shook your head, tears still clinging to your lashes, “I… I don’t want to go back. Please don’t make me.”

Leah’s heart twisted at the sight of you, “You’re okay, my girl. You can go back to bed, it’s safe now.”

You didn’t budge, you shook your head, your body trembling with exhaustion and fear, “N… No. Please… Please don’t leave me,” The words were barely above a whisper, desperate. Your lip wobbled as fresh tears welled in your eyes.

Leah crouched down, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, “Hey, you’re not alone. I’m right here, I promise,” She murmured, her voice thick with emotion, “I tell you what–tonight, you can sleep with me and Jordy tonight, just for tonight, okay?” Ultimately she would have preferred for you to go back to sleep in your bed, but she could tell how shook up you still were, and making sure you were okay was the priority right now.

You nodded quickly, your whole body sagging with relief. You felt safe, finally. You didn’t care that you were 12 or that this was probably a little silly–right now, all you wanted was to feel loved, protected, and not alone.

Leah gave you a gentle time as she helped you into bed, “We have a guest joining us tonight,” She said to Jordan, glancing up at her as she settled beside you.

Jordan’s eyes softened, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she watched you curl up close to Leah, “I see that,” She replied, her voice warm, “Hi, little one.”

Your thumb found its way to your mouth instinctively. Your fingers trembling as you sucked it in, a habit you hadn’t relied on in a long time, but right now, it brought a sense of comfort that nothing else could.

Leah’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close against her chest, “You’re safe with us, Monkey. I’ve got you, my girl. You can close your eyes and sleep now,” She said, her fingers stroking your hair.

“M’ sleepy,” You mumbled, your eyes fluttered closed, the warmth of Leah’s embrace making you feel like everything would be okay, even if just for tonight.

The rhythmic beat of Leah’s heart and the steady sound of Jordan’s breathing surrounded you like a cocoon, and eventually, you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of their arms.

“Le, can I… I have cereal for breakfast?” You asked, excitedly as you bounded into the kitchen still dressed in your pajamas, your hair wild like a lion’s mane, “You promised I could!”

“Of course you can, Monkey. You can have anything that you want,” Leah replied, the tiredness evident in her own voice.

Your eyes lit up, “Even Coco pops?”

Leah smiled and nodded, “Even Coco pops.”

“Yeah!” You exclaimed, bouncing on your toes.

Despite the nightmare from the night before, you were up and ready at 7 am, wide awake. Leah, reluctantly getting up with you, switched on the TV for morning cartoons while she made you the promised bowl of Coco Pops.

You sat on the spinny chair in the kitchen, pushing it back and forth, spinning in circles, “Why did Jordy stay in bed? She’s missing out on Spongebob!” You giggled, pointing at the screen. 

“I’m not missing out, I’m just avoiding the early morning Spongebob chaos,” Jordan appeared in the doorway, her voice groggy but playful, “Besides, if I have to listen to Spongebob’s laugh one more time before coffee, I might just turn into Plankton.”

Leah chuckled softly, shaking her head at Jordan’s antics, “Jordy isn’t much of a fan of early mornings,” She explained, “Do you want a bit of milk or a lot of milk?”

“Hm, not too much. It’ll make the cereal yucky!” You scrunched your face in mock disgust as you inspected the milk bottle.

It was remarkable to see how quickly your joy had returned, despite the nightmare that had shaken you both in the middle of the night. Leah had hardly slept, and neither had you. Your scream had woken up the entire house, sending everyone into a flurry of concern, but now, here you were, laughing over breakfast.

Leah sat at the kitchen table, fingers tapping anxiously against the wood. Jordan was across from her, just as tense but they both kept a brave face for you as you sat opposite them, oblivious and munching on your breakfast.

You stared at your bowl, then looked at them, your thoughts turning inward. You knew it was Monday. On Mondays, you always went to school. So why weren’t you today?

“So, Monkey,” Leah began the difficult conversation, keeping her voice soft, “Today, someone is going to come round from social services to talk to us–well, to you.”

“Why?” You asked, your stomach dropping at the unfamiliarity of the situation.

“Because it’s important that it happens I’m afraid,” Leah replied softly, but there was something about the way she said it that made you feel uneasy.

Your eyes widened in fear, instant panic taking over your face, “No, no… They’re just going to send me back to my dad's!”

“They’re not. I won’t let them, okay?” Leah shook her head quickly, her voice firm but gentle, “Not this time. We’ll talk to them, we’ll explain everything that happened, okay? There’s no need to be scared.”

“O… Okay,” You whispered, the fear still gripping your chest.

You really didn’t understand, but you didn’t want to ask again. You hated it when people didn’t answer your questions the way you wanted them to. It felt… off. You didn’t know why, but it made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t like.

“Eat your breakfast before it goes cold, little one,” Jordan encouraged, trying to lift your spirits. 

You giggled, poking your spoon around in your bowl, “It’s cereal, Jordy. It’s already cold.”

“Of course, silly me,” Jordan smiled at you, her voice light, trying to coax a smile from you.

Leah shook her head with a fond smile, “What’s she like, eh?”

“Silly!” You said, a genuine smile spreading across your face as you took another spoonful of your cereal.

By the time lunch had rolled around, the house was filled with the sounds of laughter and light-hearted jokes. You were sitting on the floor in the living room, building your Lego set, your fingers moving quickly as you pieced together a colourful castle. Leah and Jordan were sitting nearby, Leah with her phone, and Jordan struggling to assemble a poorly designed tower that kept collapsing.

“Jordy, that’s not how you build it!” You giggled, pointing at the mess she was creating, “It’s all wrong! The pieces don’t go like that!”

Jordan pouted, clearly amused by her own failure, “Oh, really? I thought it was a… modern abstract tower, that’s all.”

“Nooo, it’s awful!” You told her, grinning as she made an exaggerated face of frustration, “You have to build it properly!”

Leah laughed softly at the two of you, shaking her head, “You two are something else.”

You giggled mischievously in response, feeling more comfortable with them than you had in so long.

But as you clicked the last piece into place on your Lego creation, a sharp knock on the door interrupted the moment.

Leah stood quietly, her mood shifting as she turned towards the door, “Stay here,” She said, her voice gentle but firm, “I’ll go let them in. It’s going to be fine, yeah?”

You nodded, clutching the Lego piece in your hand, feeling a nervous flutter in your chest, “I’m scared, Jordy,” You turned to look at Jordan for her help.

“Hey,” Jordan shifted to move closer and wrap a protective arm around you, “You don’t need to be scared. Leah and I are going to sort this out. We’re not letting you go this time.”

Leah opened the door before the second knock could land, her eyes immediately locking with the woman standing there. The woman was in her mid-thirties, with an expression that was professional but kind.

“Miss Williamson?” She asked.

Leah’s grip tightened on the doorframe, “Yes.”

“My name is Hannah, and I’m from social services,” The lady introduced herself, showing proof of her ID card.

Leah’s jaw tightened, unfamiliar with this lady, “You’re not Monkey’s… I mean, you’re not the one I spoke to before at social services?”

“I’m afraid her case has been reassigned to me,” Hannah explained, her voice steady but with a trace of sympathy.

Leah stepped aside, her eyes momentarily narrowing with a mix of frustration and concern, “Right. Come in,“ She said, ushering the woman inside, “Monkey is in the living room with my partner.”

The moment the door closed behind them, you stiffened, instinctively shrinking back into your seat on the floor, your eyes darting between the unfamiliar woman and the safety of the room.

“Monkey?” Leah approached you with a cautious look, “This is Hannah. She’s from Social Services, and she’d like to talk to you. Think you can do that?”

You froze, feeling a lump in your throat. You didn’t want to talk to her. Didn’t even want to look at her.

“Hi, Monkey,” Hannah greeted you, though you could hear the professionalism still, “I’m Hannah. It’s nice to meet you.”

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Instead, you focused on your Lego, avoiding eye contact, desperately trying to make yourself small, to disappear into the safety of the pieces in your hand.

“I understand that you stayed here with Miss Williamson and her partner last night, is that right?”

“Her name’s Leah, not Miss Williamson,” You mumbled, your voice barely audible.

“Right, of course. You stayed here last night with Leah, and her partner,” Hannah corrected herself, glancing in Jordan’s direction.

“Jordan,” Jordan answered curtly.

Hannah nodded, making a note of it on her clipboard, “So, you stayed here last night. Can you tell me what happened before that?”

You tensed, shrugging your shoulders and uninterested in talking. Your fingers trembled as they fiddled with a piece of Lego, keeping your eyes downcast. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak–not now. Instead, you scrambled up off the floor and reluctantly glued yourself to Leah, pushing to sit directly in her lap as she wrapped her arms around you protectively.

She wouldn’t force you to talk, not if you weren’t ready.

Jordan noticed your withdrawal and sat up from where she was sitting on the carpet originally beside you to move to sit on the sofa beside you and Leah, “Maybe it would be better if one of us spoke about it?” She suggested, offering you a silent but supportive glance.

Hannah nodded, understanding the hesitation, “That’s perfectly fine,” She agreed, her gaze flicking from you to Leah.

Leah inhaled sharply, her voice steady but filled with an intensity that you hadn’t seen before, “I got the phone call from Monkey last night. She was in distress and needed our help. We found her hiding out on the street, terrified and cold. She didn’t want to go back to her dad. Mark. He’s… He’s been hurting her,” She paused, the words heavy, but she didn’t look away, “I tried to talk to her old social worker, and every time, I was brushed off. And now look what’s happened. I’m not letting her go back to him. That’s not an option.”

Hannah regarded her carefully, her face softening with empathy, though her eyes still remained sharp, “Leah, I understand that you’re worried, but–”

“No, you don’t understand,” Leah’s voice cut through, unwavering, “I’m not letting her go back. She’s staying here. With me. With us.”

“Leah,” Hannah’s eyes softened as she took a slow breath, her clipboard held tightly in her hands, “Legally, there’s a process we have to follow.”

“Then follow it. But you’re not taking her away from me,” Leah responded firmly, her posture rigid as she pulled out her phone, “I’ve got proof. I’ve got everything–pictures, recordings. You need to see what happened. The bruises, the fear in her eyes, the way she recoils at the mention of his name–And last night, she had a nightmare. She was screaming blue murder. I had to get up with her in the middle of the night because she was terrified. She had an accident because she was so fearful. She was shaking when I finally got her back to sleep.”

Hannah’s face paled as she watched the footage, looked at the pictures of the bruises, the evidence unmistakable. Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak right away. Instead, she took a moment, her fingers gripping the clipboard harder.

“I’ll be escalating this immediately,” Hannah murmured, her voice low and serious, “This isn’t something that can just be swept aside.”

Leah exhaled sharply, but relief was short-lived. Hannah wasn’t done yet.

“There will need to be a court process,” She continued, “For now, we can arrange for emergency placement with you both, but a judge will need to approve the custody arrangement.”

Leah clenched her jaw, her heart racing, “And what happens if he tries to fight it?”

“The court will give him a chance to try and change his ways. But…” Hannah explained, her voice dropping in tone, “I’ve seen cases like this before. With the evidence you’ve shown me… I doubt they’ll risk sending her back.”

Leah’s stomach churned, but she nodded, her body tense, still holding onto the hope that you were safe. That she had done the right thing.

And somehow, for once, the system worked. A court order was pushed through, and Leah and Jordan were granted joint custody. Your dad was given a second chance to change–He had been allowed to have supervised visits.

Leah wasn’t thrilled, but at least this way you were safe with them for now.

As you sat in Leah’s lap, still curled up, she leaned down and kissed the top of your head softly, “You’re here, you’re safe. This is exactly what Jean wanted all along.”

Leah held you a little tighter, her arms a protective shield around you, and the words hung in the air for a long moment. Jean had always wished for Leah to have custody of you, to keep you safe from your dad.

Now, it was finally happening. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to relax, the fear in your chest easing as you let yourself believe it.

You were safe. You were home.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[ditzydoe444]

Dad’s best friend Jason! Who sees reader get broken up with at a restaurant he’s at and offers to take her home and comfort her (and also fuck her in the back of his car lmao)

-🐁

MDNI 18+

best friend’s dad! jason x reader

—ㅤ꒰ྀིㅤ jason todd x reader ಿৎ

▐ age gap, reader is in their early 20’s and jason is late 30’s to early 40’s, vaginal sex, brief mentions of blow jobs and car sex, not proof read

jason knew it was weird to watch his best friends daughter get broken up with, but it wasn’t like he could avoid it. you were outside the restaurant, yelling at your boyfriend for cheating on you, and well you had quite the audience. jason didn’t know the exact details between you and your boyfriend, but he knew enough to understand that he didn’t like him.

so the moment your now ex boyfriend drove off away in some snobby sports car of his, leaving you all alone and stranded outside the restaurant in the small town, he couldn’t leave you there alone. his shoes crushed the dirty on the messy pavement, your smaller form crouched down on the steps as you wrapped your arms around your waist, shivering in that tiny outfit of yours.

“getting dump in his cold weather and in that outfit isn’t the ideal way to end the day is it?” jason’s gruff voice spoke up, your wide eyes staring at him slightly glassy and red from the recent break up. “now, what type of man would leave you alone out here?” his tone slightly teasing as he took a spot next to you, your sweet perfume filling his senses. you scoffed, still bitter from the break up, “well clearly he’s not a man,” you spat, avoiding eye contact.

jason chuckled, “well, can someone like me, a real man take you home so i don’t have to worry about your safety?”

you wanted to refuse, you didn’t need anyone. “i can handle myself,” your tone sharp and clipped. right, your stubbornness that drove jason insane, but also turned him on. “i know you can, but would like to make sure my daughter’s best friend is able to get home safety.” he didn’t want you alone in this dimly lit area, god someone would have to drag him out to leave you alone. “just a ride, we don’t need to talk,” he assured, “but, if you do want to complain about that shitty ex boyfriend we can do that as well,” he added when he saw your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

you two did neither of that. instead his truck was parked in an abandoned parking lot where the two of you were in the back seat, your ass up in the air whilst he fucked your cunt. “such a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be crying over a boy that couldn’t even make you come,” he grunted as he watched your ass ripple with his thrusts. “this pretty pussy deserves more than he’s small dick don’t you think?”

you moaned, your saliva dribbling all over your chin then staining the seats, “you ok sweetheart, i’m not fucking going too dumb am i?” he cooed as he gently rubbed your ass cheeks, pink from his spanking previously.

you decided to taunt him, push your boundaries where you sucked him off as he drove on the highway, purposely delaying his orgasm before he finally pulled into the parking lot to teach you a lesson.

“good girls get to come when they behave, and clearly you fucking don’t,” jason grunted as he fucked you back into the seats, your smaller form quivering begging for a release. your cunt was making the most lewd squelching noises, as he continued to fuck you. “don’t cry over a man who doesn’t even know how to make you come alright?”

“mm, jay, im close,” you whined as you gripped onto the seats, your nails scratching against the leather material as the window fogged up, the truck creaking with jason’s thrusts. “fuck, gonna come sweetheart? i want you to make a mess.”

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Like Us

Where Y/N and Harry thought they had lost each other, fate gives them a second chance.

Word Count: 7,222

Content Warning: Cursing, alcohol, mentions of Zayn leaving.

Y/N had been with Harry through it all. Through the late-night calls filled with exhaustion, the frantic texts that barely scratched the surface of what he was feeling, the moments of silence where he didn’t have the words to explain what was breaking inside him. She had been there before Zayn left, and she was still there now, following him on tour like a quiet anchor in the chaos.

The energy backstage wasn’t the same anymore. Ever since Zayn had left, there was a palpable shift—like a table missing a leg, still standing but wobbling with every move. The crowds were still loud, the shows still electric, but behind the scenes, it was different. Unease lingered in the air like a storm waiting to break.

On his days off, they escaped together. Away from the arenas, the cameras, the questions. They did the kind of touristy things that made Harry feel like himself again—exploring tiny coffee shops tucked into side streets, wandering through museums with their hands intertwined, laughing at the ridiculous souvenirs in gift shops. She took pictures of him when he wasn’t looking, the city lights reflecting in his green eyes, the weight on his shoulders momentarily lighter.

But even in those moments, she could see it. The exhaustion. The restlessness. The way his mind was always somewhere else, thinking about something he wasn’t saying.

It was late, the city glowing beneath them as they sat on the small balcony of their hotel room. Paris had been a dream—long walks along the Seine, stolen kisses in quiet cafés, pretending for just a little while that the world outside didn’t exist. But now, reality was creeping back in, threading itself between them like an unwelcome guest.

Y/N glanced at Harry beside her, his gaze distant as he traced patterns on the rim of his wine glass. He had been quiet all day, his usual spark dulled by something he wasn’t saying. She knew him well enough to wait, to let him come to her when he was ready.

Eventually, he sighed, leaning back against his chair. “The band’s ending soon.”

The words weren’t surprising, but hearing them aloud still made her chest tighten. “You don’t know that.”

Harry let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “I do. Even if we don’t say it outright, even if we call it a hiatus, we all know what it really means.” He looked over at her, his green eyes filled with something heavy. “It’s not gonna be the same after this.”

Y/N studied him, searching for something—reassurance, maybe, or hope—but all she found was exhaustion. “Is that what you want?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his curls. “I don’t know. I just know I need… something to change. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. It’s all I’ve ever known.” He turned his gaze to the city below, watching the headlights blur together in streaks of gold and red. “And if it ends… I don’t know who I am outside of it.”

She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his, grounding him the way she always had. “You’re still you, Harry. Band or no band.”

He squeezed her hand, but the look in his eyes told her something she wasn’t ready to hear.

“I think,” he said slowly, carefully, like he was testing the words as he spoke them, “there’s gonna be a break.”

The air between them shifted, heavy with unspoken things. Y/N felt the weight of it settling in her bones, but she didn’t let go. Not yet.

And Harry was right.

A few months later, the band officially announced their hiatus. At first, it was meant to be temporary. Just a few months to rest, to breathe, to figure things out. But as time passed, the months stretched longer than expected.

One night the rain tapped lightly against the windows of Y/N’s apartment, the soft hum of an old record playing in the background. Harry sat on the couch, one leg bent beneath him, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the ring on his index finger. He had been quiet all night, lost in thought, his gaze distant even when she spoke.

Y/N curled up beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. “You’re thinking,” she murmured, her voice soft.

He let out a small breath of laughter, tilting his head toward hers. “Always am.”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, her fingers brushing over his arm. “What is it?”

Harry hesitated, chewing on his bottom lip like he was trying to find the right words. Finally, he exhaled. “I think I wanna do something on my own for a bit.”

Y/N’s brows lifted, but she didn’t look surprised—just curious. “Music?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I mean, I love the band, always will, but… I wanna see what I can do by myself, y’know? Find out what my sound is. And—” He hesitated again, his fingers still fidgeting with his ring. “I think I wanna try acting, too. I’ve always wanted to, and now feels like the right time.”

Y/N watched him for a moment, taking in the way he spoke—cautious, hopeful, nervous. She reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I think that’s amazing, Harry.”

He glanced at her, his lips parting slightly. “You do?”

She smiled. “Of course I do. You’ve always talked about wanting to try acting, and your own music? That’s exciting.”

He nodded, exhaling like he’d been holding it in. The rain kept falling, the record kept spinning, and for now, they sat there together, wrapped in the quiet of what came next.

Harry was quiet for a long moment, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the back of Y/N’s hand. The rain outside filled the silence between them, steady and rhythmic, but inside, everything felt still—like the moment before something irreversible happened.

He finally looked up at her, his green eyes filled with something heavy. “I’m gonna be busy a lot,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “With the music, with acting… with figuring out who I am outside of all this.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, a sinking feeling creeping in. “I know,” she said softly, watching him carefully.

Harry swallowed, his grip on her hand tightening for just a second before loosening. “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “And because I love you… because I respect you… I don’t think I can be in a relationship right now. Not while I’m trying to figure myself out.”

The words felt like a slow, unraveling thread, pulling apart everything they had built. Y/N held onto his gaze, searching for something—maybe a way to change his mind, maybe a way to understand. But deep down, she already knew.

She nodded once, her throat tight. 

Everything shifted.

Y/N felt her breath hitch, her fingers trembling slightly in his grasp. “Harry…” she started, but she didn’t know how to finish.

His face twisted in pain, like he hated every word coming out of his own mouth. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I don’t want to do this, love. God, I don’t. But I need to.”

Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes. “Why?” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Why do you think we can’t figure it out together?”

Harry inhaled sharply, his hand cupping hers, like he was trying to memorize the feel of her skin. “Because I don’t know who I am right now. And I can’t drag you into that mess. I can’t ask you to sit around waiting while I run off chasing things I don’t even fully understand yet.” He let out a shaky breath. “You deserve someone who is sure, someone who can be there for you in every way. And I—I don’t know if I can be that person right now.”

Tears slipped down Y/N’s cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away, hating how fragile she felt. “But you love me.” It wasn’t a question; it was a desperate grasp for something solid, something real.

Harry’s eyes softened, filling with sorrow and something deeper—something that hurt just as much as it loved. “With everything in me,” he said. “I love you so much that it physically hurts to say this.” He let out a broken laugh, running a hand through his curls before gripping the back of his neck. “I hate this, Y/N. I hate myself for saying it. But if we’re meant to be, we’ll find our way back.”

Her chin trembled as she tried to process it all. “And what if we don’t?”

Harry’s breath hitched. He blinked rapidly, like he was trying to keep his own tears from falling. “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering what if.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, willing herself to stay strong, but her heart was shattering. “I don’t know how to be without you.”

He let out a soft, broken sound, his forehead falling to rest against hers. “You don’t have to figure it out all at once,” he whispered. “Just promise me something.”

She swallowed hard. “What?”

“When the time comes—if we ever get another chance—promise me you’ll let me fight for you.”

A sob escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes, feeling his warmth, memorizing the way he smelled, the way he held her like she was something precious. She didn’t know how to promise him that. She didn’t know if she could.

But in that moment, with her heart breaking in his hands, she whispered the only word she could.

“Okay.”

And just like that, it was over.

They laid together for a long time, neither speaking, neither moving—just breathing in the same space, clinging to the last moments before everything changed. Y/N listened to the steady rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat beneath her cheek, memorizing the way it sounded, the way it felt against her skin.

His hand ran absentmindedly up and down her arm, slow and soothing, like he was trying to calm them both, like he wanted to keep this moment suspended in time. But time didn’t stop. It never did.

Eventually, he stirred, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of her head before shifting beneath her. She knew what was coming before he even said it, but hearing the words still made her stomach twist.

“I should go home,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

Y/N didn’t move, didn’t lift her head from his chest. If she did, it would make this real. And she wasn’t ready.

Harry exhaled shakily and brought his fingers beneath her chin, gently tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at him. His green eyes were glossy, his expression torn, his lips parted like he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. Instead, he leaned in, pressing the softest, most devastating kiss to her lips—slow, full of love, full of sorrow, full of everything they still were but couldn’t be anymore.

When he pulled away, he lingered for just a second, his forehead against hers, his breath warm on her skin. Then, without another word, he stood.

She didn’t watch him leave. She couldn’t.

That night, she laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, the ghost of his touch still lingering on her skin. She waited for sleep, but it never came—not that night, not the next, not for a long, long time.

And even when exhaustion finally won, she woke up empty. Every single time.

Five Years Later

The late afternoon sun streamed through Y/N’s apartment windows as she flipped through the stack of mail she had just pulled from the box. Bills, a few random flyers, and then—her fingers paused as she caught sight of an envelope with elegant gold script.

Her heart lifted immediately.

Tearing it open, she pulled out a beautifully embossed wedding invitation, the words practically sparkling off the page: Mallory & Ethan—Join us as we celebrate our love!

A grin spread across Y/N’s face. She barely took a moment to admire the details before grabbing her phone and dialing.

It rang twice before a familiar voice answered. “If this isn’t Y/N calling to say she got my invitation, I will be thoroughly disappointed.”

Y/N laughed. “Guess you won’t be disappointed, then.”

Mal squealed on the other end. “You got it!”

“Of course I did. And obviously, I’ll be there. Like I’d miss my best friend’s wedding.”

“Ugh, I’m so excited! It’s getting so real now. I was just finalizing the seating chart and—wait.” Mal gasped dramatically. “Are you bringing a date? Tell me you’re finally letting some poor soul take you out.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling as she walked into her kitchen and leaned against the counter. “No, Mal. I’m not into dating right now.”

Mal groaned. “It has been years, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“And you’re telling me no one has caught your interest? Not a single, ridiculously attractive, emotionally stable man?”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Nope. No one’s been worth the effort.”

Mal sighed in defeat. “Fine, fine. You can be my honorary date instead.”

Y/N grinned. “Gladly.”

The girls dissolved into laughter, the excitement buzzing between them. It was going to be a beautiful day, a celebration of love.

The following months passed in a blur of wedding excitement—not hers, but Mal’s. Still, as Y/N shopped for a dress, something about it felt personal in a way she hadn’t expected.

She stood in front of the fitting room mirror, smoothing her hands over the fabric of yet another gown. It wasn’t even white, just a simple, elegant dress for a bridesmaid. But every time she looked at herself, every time she turned to see how it moved, her mind wandered to a place she tried so hard to ignore.

What would Harry think if he saw me in this?

And then the thoughts spiraled.

What would I look like standing next to him at a wedding? What if it were our wedding?

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to shake the thoughts away, but they always came back.

Harry had always been the one. Even when he wasn’t.

They used to talk about it—getting married. Not in a serious, let’s-plan-this-right-now way, but in the way that two people who love each other deeply do when they think forever is inevitable.

She could still picture it—late nights in bed, her head resting on his bare chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his tattooed skin.

“What would your dream wedding be like?” he had asked once, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/N had smiled, shifting so she could look up at him. “Small,” she had said. “Somewhere beautiful. Maybe Italy or the English countryside. I want twinkly lights everywhere, candles, good food, and dancing until our feet hurt.”

Harry had hummed, running a hand through her hair. “Sounds perfect.”

She had smirked. “What about you? Or do you just plan on showing up in a suit and letting me do all the work?”

He chuckled, his dimples deepening as he turned onto his side, facing her. “I wanna write my vows the night before. Just me, a glass of whiskey, and all my thoughts about you spilling out onto paper.”

Y/N had rolled her eyes. “You’d procrastinate on our wedding vows?”

Harry grinned, brushing his lips over hers. “You’d love ‘em anyway.”

And he was right. She would have.

She would have loved anything, as long as it was with him.

But now, standing in a dressing room, staring at herself in a dress that wasn’t even a wedding gown, it hit her. 

Still, every dress she tried on, she imagined what it would look like if Harry was standing beside her. If she was choosing a dress for him, for them.

And God, she hated that even after all these years, part of her still wanted that life with him.

The airport was bustling with the usual chaos—rolling suitcases, hurried announcements over the intercom, the hum of travelers moving toward their destinations. Y/N clutched her boarding pass, shifting her carry-on higher on her shoulder as she navigated through the crowd.

She had traveled alone before, but this time felt different. There was an unshakable feeling in her chest, something stirring beneath the surface. Maybe it was just wedding nerves, maybe it was seeing Mal walk down the aisle, maybe it was the inevitable string of questions about when she would settle down.

Or maybe it was something else entirely.

The flight was smooth, and she spent most of it staring out the window, watching the clouds shift below her. Her mind wandered, drifting through old memories, old conversations, old pieces of herself that she thought she had let go of. But that was the thing about love—about Harry. It never really left.

After landing, she gathered her luggage and stepped out into the crisp air. The venue for Mal’s wedding was a dreamy countryside estate, nestled just far enough away from the city to feel like a secluded fairytale.

The car ride from the airport was quiet, scenic views rolling past the window as she watched the world blur by. When the car finally pulled up to the venue, her breath caught.

The estate was stunning—classic architecture with ivy climbing up the stone, fairy lights already twinkling along the pathways. It was exactly the kind of place she and Harry used to talk about for their own wedding.

She sighed, pushing the thought away as she stepped out of the car.

Before she could grab her bags, an excited squeal filled the air.

“You’re here!”

Y/N turned just in time to see Mal rushing toward her in a sundress and bare feet, arms outstretched.

She barely had time to drop her bag before Mal threw herself into her arms, squeezing her tight. Y/N laughed, hugging her back. “I told you I was coming.”

“I know, but now you’re actually here!” Mal pulled back, her eyes sparkling. “Come on, I need to show you everything! The venue, the flowers, my dress—I have so much to tell you.”

Y/N grinned, letting Mal drag her toward the estate, momentarily allowing herself to get lost in the excitement.

For now, she focused on the wedding, on Mal’s happiness.

What she didn’t know was that somewhere inside this very venue, Harry Styles had also just arrived.

Y/N followed Mal through the estate, taking in the stunning surroundings—the sprawling gardens, the delicate string lights woven through the trees, the elegant reception area where tables were already being set up with crisp linens and gold accents. It was breathtaking, the kind of wedding Mal had always dreamed of.

“I know it’s a little over the top,” Mal said, grinning as she led Y/N toward the main hall. “But Ethan wanted something classic and romantic, and honestly, who was I to argue? I’m marrying the love of my life—I’d say I’m winning here.”

Y/N laughed. “It’s perfect, Mal. Seriously. It’s like something out of a movie.”

Mal gave her an approving nod before looping her arm through Y/N’s. “Speaking of perfect—are you sure you don’t want me to set you up with someone at the wedding? Ethan has some very attractive friends.”

Y/N groaned. “Mal—”

“Okay, okay! Just saying. No pressure.” Mal smirked. “But I do expect you to have at least one fun, flirty dance with someone. It’s a wedding, Y/N. You deserve a little romance.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll think about it.”

They stepped inside the main hall, where final touches were still being put together—florists arranging centerpieces, staff preparing tables. It was a flurry of beautiful chaos.

And then, just as Y/N turned to say something to Mal, she heard his voice.

“Mal?”

The world around her froze.

That voice. That voice.

Slowly, she turned her head, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes landed on him.

Harry.

He stood just a few feet away, looking exactly like she remembered and somehow entirely different all at once. His hair was shorter than it had been back then, but still slightly tousled, his sharp jawline even more defined. He was dressed casually in a white button-down, sleeves rolled up, tattoos peeking through. But it was his eyes—those familiar, heartbreakingly green eyes—that sent a shock through her system.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed.

Mal, oblivious to the sudden tension, grinned and rushed toward him. “There you are! I was wondering when you’d get here.”

Harry tore his gaze away from Y/N, hugging Mal briefly. “Yeah, just got in. Thought I’d check in before the rehearsal.”

Mal beamed, then gestured between them. “You remember Y/N, right?”

Harry’s gaze flickered back to her, something unreadable flashing across his face. His lips parted, and for the first time in five years, he spoke her name.

“Y/N.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t casual. It was heavy with everything unsaid.

Y/N forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat, to keep herself steady.

“Harry.”

The air between them was thick, the past pressing in on them like a ghost.

Mal, still completely unaware, clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect! You two already know each other! Harry is one of Ethan’s best mates, and I was just about to tell Y/N she should have a dance with someone at the wedding.”

Y/N nearly choked.

Harry’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk playing there, but his eyes stayed locked on hers.

Mal grinned between them. “Okay, I have a million things to do, but you two should catch up! I’ll find you later, Y/N.”

Before Y/N could protest, Mal was gone, leaving her standing there with him.

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Harry cleared his throat, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Y/N let out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah. Same.”

And just like that, the past wasn’t so far away anymore.

The silence between them stretched for a moment, thick with years of unsaid words and lingering memories. Y/N could feel her pulse in her ears, her heart slamming against her ribcage as she tried to figure out what the hell she was supposed to say to the man who had once been her whole world.

Then, Harry’s lips parted, and his voice was softer than she expected. “You look beautiful.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t just polite small talk, it was genuine. His gaze lingered on her like he was memorizing every detail, like he was seeing her for the first time all over again.

Y/N swallowed, shifting her weight slightly. “Thanks,” she said, her voice coming out quieter than she intended. She forced herself to shake off the nerves, tilting her head as she took him in. “You cut your hair.”

Harry let out a small chuckle, running a hand through the shorter strands. “Yeah. Needed a change, I guess.”

She nodded, her eyes flickering over him, the tattoos on his arms more defined, his shoulders broader, his presence somehow even more commanding than it had been back then. But beyond all that, there was something else—something settled in his expression, in the way he carried himself. He had changed.

“Looks good,” she admitted.

A small smirk tugged at his lips. “Yeah? Thought you liked it long.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a familiar warmth creeping up her spine. “I did. But you pull this off, too.”

Harry laughed, a sound that sent a flicker of something dangerous through her chest. “High praise, then.”

She exhaled, crossing her arms over her chest as she studied him. “You’ve been busy,” she said, her voice even. “The albums, the movies… you’ve done everything you said you would.”

Harry’s expression softened, his hands still tucked into his pockets. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess I have.”

Y/N nodded, a small, bittersweet smile pulling at her lips. “I’m happy for you, Harry. Really.”

He held her gaze, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. “Thanks, love.” The old term of endearment slipped out effortlessly, like it had never left his vocabulary, like five years hadn’t passed.

Y/N’s breath caught for just a second, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she offered a small smile and looked away, focusing on the wedding preparations happening around them.

“So,” Harry said after a moment, rocking back on his heels. “What about you?”

Y/N turned back to him, raising a brow. “What about me?”

His gaze was steady. “How’ve you been?”

There was something in the way he asked—something deeper, something careful.

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Good. Life’s been… steady. Work, friends, the usual.”

Harry’s lips pressed together like he wanted to ask more, but before he could, a voice called his name from across the room.

Ethan, the groom.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, giving a small nod in acknowledgment before turning back to her. “I should probably—”

Y/N nodded quickly, stepping back. “Yeah, of course.”

He hesitated, then gave her a small, lingering smile. “It’s really good to see you, Y/N.”

She swallowed, her heart doing something stupid in her chest. “You too, Harry.”

And just like that, he was gone, walking toward Ethan, blending into the crowd like he hadn’t just turned her world upside down all over again.

Y/N wanted to scream.

Scream in anger for the way he had just waltzed back into her life like five years hadn’t passed, like he hadn’t left her lying awake at night, wondering if she would ever stop missing him.

Scream in joy because—God help her—she had missed him. Seeing him again had ignited something in her chest. 

But instead, she took a shaky breath, pulled out her phone, and opened her messages.

Y/N: Naomi. Emergency.

A few seconds later, the typing bubbles appeared.

Naomi: Omg what happened?? Did someone spill wine on Mal’s dress? Did you trip in heels?

Y/N: Harry. Is. Here.

A long pause. Then:

Naomi: I’m sorry. WHAT.

Y/N: HE IS HERE. AS IN, PHYSICALLY PRESENT. IN THE SAME ROOM AS ME.

Naomi: WHAT THE HELL. HOW. WHY. ARE YOU BREATHING.

Y/N: BARELY.

She could practically hear Naomi screaming through the phone screen.

Naomi: Start from the beginning. How did it happen??

Y/N exhaled sharply, moving to a quieter corner of the venue as she leaned against a column, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

Y/N: I was with Mal, she was showing me around, and then I heard his voice. I turned around and there he was. Just standing there like he wasn’t about to send me into cardiac arrest.

Naomi: Holy. Shit.

Y/N: He told me I looked beautiful.

Naomi: YOU’RE KIDDING ME.

Y/N: I WISH I WAS.

Naomi: What else did he say??

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip before typing:

Y/N: We talked a little. He asked about me. I told him I was happy for him. It was… weird. Like no time had passed, but also like a lifetime had.

Naomi: Oh my god. Are you okay? Like, genuinely?

Y/N let out a breath, staring at the screen for a long moment before responding.

Y/N: I don’t know.

Naomi didn’t respond right away, and for once, Y/N was grateful. Because she really didn’t know.

Naomi finally responded after a long pause.

Naomi: Do you need me to fly out there? Because I will.

Y/N smiled slightly, shaking her head even though Naomi couldn’t see her.

Y/N: No, you’re off the hook. I’ll survive.

Naomi: Will you?

That was the real question, wasn’t it? Would she survive this? Would she survive seeing Harry, being near him, pretending that it didn’t shake her to her core?

Before she could respond, Mal’s voice rang through the hall.

“There you are!” Mal rushed up to Y/N, her eyes bright. “I need you to come to the rehearsal dinner in like, twenty minutes. Bridesmaid duties. You’re sitting at the head table, by the way.”

Y/N blinked, still slightly disoriented from everything that had just happened. “Wait—what?”

Mal rolled her eyes. “You’re basically my sister, of course you’re sitting with me. Ethan’s groomsmen will be there too, obviously.” She paused, her expression turning smug. “Including Harry.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop. “Mal.”

Mal grinned innocently. “What? You two used to know each other. Might as well catch up.”

Y/N groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. She quickly looked at her phone. 

Naomi: Why do I feel like something is about to go down?

Y/N sighed, typing back.

Y/N: Because it probably is.

She locked her phone and exhaled deeply.her.

Y/N stopped in her tracks, gripping Mal’s arm before she could walk off. “Mal.”

Mal turned, eyebrows raised. “What?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart pounding. “Harry… he’s the ex.”

Mal blinked, not catching on immediately. “What do you mean ‘the ex’?”

Y/N stared at her, her throat tightening. “The ex, Mal. The one I never got over.”

Mal’s jaw dropped. “Wait. Wait. Harry is that Harry?”

Y/N just nodded, feeling her stomach twist.

Mal’s eyes widened in horror. “Y/N! Why didn’t you tell me?! I just—oh my God—I just forced you into sitting at a table with him! I basically told you to flirt with your ex-boyfriend!”

Y/N let out a weak laugh, rubbing her temples. “Yeah. You did.”

Mal looked genuinely panicked, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “Okay, do you want me to change the seating? I can put you somewhere else. I can banish him to the other side of the room if you want.”

Y/N hesitated, her heart a mess of emotions. Every logical part of her was screaming yes, but deep down, there was something else. A tiny part of her—one she wanted to ignore—knew she wasn’t ready to run from this.

She swallowed hard. “No… don’t change anything.”

Mal searched her face. “Are you sure?”

Y/N exhaled slowly. “No. If I’ve spent the last five years surviving without him, I can survive one dinner.”

Mal groaned, shaking her head. “I cannot believe I was the one to unknowingly throw you into this situation.”

Y/N gave her a small smile. “It’s not your fault. I never really talk about him.”

Mal frowned. “That should’ve been my first clue.”

They stood there for a moment before Mal squeezed her hands. “Okay. If at any point you need an out, just say the word, and I’ll stage an emergency.”

Y/N smiled despite the nerves in her chest. “Thanks, Mal.”

Mal smirked. “And for what it’s worth… the way he looked at you earlier? Yeah. That man is not over you either.”

Y/N’s breath caught, but before she could respond, Mal looped her arm through hers and started leading her toward the dining hall.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Y/N walked into the rehearsal dinner with Mal, her stomach twisting into knots. The dining hall was breathtaking—soft candlelight flickered across the elegantly decorated tables, and laughter filled the room as guests mingled. It should have felt warm, exciting, celebratory. Instead, it felt like she was walking straight into the eye of a storm.

Her eyes scanned the head table, and sure enough, there he was.

Harry sat near Ethan, laughing at something one of the other groomsmen said. He looked relaxed, at ease, but the second his gaze flickered up and landed on her, something shifted. His smile faltered—just for a second—before he quickly masked it. But Y/N caught it.

And it made her chest tighten.

“Breathe,” Mal whispered in her ear.

Y/N inhaled deeply, forcing a polite smile as Mal pulled her toward her seat.

“Alright, everyone, take your seats!” Ethan’s voice rang out, and people began settling in.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she approached her spot at the table. As fate would have it, she was seated directly across from Harry.

Of course she was.

Mal slid into her chair beside her, oblivious to the internal battle raging inside Y/N’s head. Or maybe she wasn’t—because when Y/N hesitated for half a second too long, Mal gave her a subtle nudge.

Y/N had no choice but to sit.

As soon as she did, the table conversation picked up, and for a few moments, she thought maybe she could get through this dinner unscathed. But then—

“You look nice.”

The deep, familiar voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She looked up, and there he was. Harry. Looking right at her.

For a second, she forgot how to breathe.

She cleared her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks,” she murmured. “You do too.”

He gave a small smile, but there was something behind his eyes—something hesitant, something unsure.

Ethan, oblivious to the tension, clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Mate, did you know Y/N used to date a musician?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink.

Harry’s brows lifted slightly, amusement flickering across his face. “Oh?”

Ethan grinned. “Yeah! I don’t think she ever got over him, asshole broke up with her to go fuck around.”

Mal visibly cringed. “Ethan—”

Y/N wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

Harry’s gaze was steady, his lips twitching like he was fighting back a smirk. He looked at her, his voice smooth as ever.

“Yeah?” he mused. “Wonder what happened to him.”

Y/N shot him a glare across the table, her face burning, while Mal reached for Ethan’s hand and squeezed it in warning.

Ethan frowned, confused for a second before realization dawned on his face. His eyes darted between Harry and Y/N, his mouth dropping open. “Wait—no way.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face. Mal let out a nervous laugh, while Harry just sat back, looking far too amused.

Ethan whistled low. “Wow. Okay. This just got interesting.”

Y/N peeked up at Harry, who was still watching her with that unreadable look in his eyes.

Ethan finally shut up after a pointed glare from Mal, and conversation around the table shifted away from Y/N’s romantic history—or rather, her history with Harry Styles. But the damage had already been done.

Y/N felt the weight of Harry’s gaze every so often, his eyes flickering toward her between conversations, his expression unreadable. She did everything in her power to ignore it, to focus on the food, on Mal’s wedding plans, on anything but the fact that Harry was sitting across from her, looking like a damn dream, completely unbothered by the chaos he had just walked into.

Eventually, the dinner plates were cleared, and drinks were passed around. Mal and Ethan stood to give a short thank-you speech, and while everyone was clapping and toasting, Y/N took the opportunity to slip outside for some air.

She stepped onto the balcony, the cool evening breeze brushing against her skin. She exhaled slowly, gripping the railing, trying to steady herself.

The air was crisp outside, a welcome contrast to the warmth and noise of the rehearsal dinner. Y/N gripped the railing, inhaling deeply, trying to calm the storm brewing in her chest.

She heard the door creak open behind her, followed by the familiar sound of footsteps.

“Running away already?”

She closed her eyes briefly before turning her head. Harry stood there, hands in his pockets, watching her with that same unreadable expression.

“Not running,” she murmured. “Just… breathing.”

He hummed in response, stepping closer until he was beside her, leaning against the railing. Their shoulders barely touched, but the proximity sent a ripple through her.

Silence settled between them, the weight of five years pressing down on both of them.

Harry exhaled, his fingers tapping lightly against the wood. “I tried.”

Y/N frowned slightly, turning to look at him. “Tried what?”

His jaw tightened for a brief moment before he met her gaze. His voice was steady, quiet. “To find something that felt like this.”

Her breath caught.

“Like us.”

The words settled between them, thick and heavy, cutting through the cool night air like a blade.

Y/N swallowed, her fingers tightening around the railing. She should say something—anything—but her mind was blank, her heart betraying her with how hard it was pounding in her chest.

Instead, she forced herself to look away, staring out at the dark horizon. “Did you?”

A beat of silence. Then, just as softly—

“No.”

The quiet stretched between them, filled with everything they weren’t saying.

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, exhaling through her nose. “Harry…”

He let out a quiet, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I know.”

But he didn’t move.

And neither did she.

The weight of his words sat between them, thick and unmoving. Y/N stared out at the night sky, her grip on the railing tightening.

She had waited.

For months. For years.

She had waited for the moment when he would come back, when the universe would prove him right—that if they were meant to be, they’d find their way back to each other.

But he never came.

And so, she had forced herself to move on, to let go of the idea of him and the promises they had made.

Except now, here he was. Standing beside her, his presence as overwhelming as ever.

She turned to him then, her voice quieter, but firm. “You told me if we were meant to be, we’d find our way back.”

Harry inhaled sharply, his gaze locking onto hers. “I remember.”

Her throat tightened. “I waited, Harry.”

A shadow crossed his face, pain flickering in his eyes. “I know.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

She shook her head slightly. “I told myself I wouldn’t. That I couldn’t. But I did anyway.” She swallowed, the emotions she had buried for so long threatening to surface. “And the thing is… I didn’t have to let you fight for me.” She met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “Because you were always the one.”

Harry’s breath hitched, his hands curling into fists at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for her.

She didn’t look away.

“I was yours, Harry,” she whispered. “Always.”

Harry let out a sharp exhale, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He looked like he wanted to say something—needed to—but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, he did what he had always done.

He looked at her like she was his entire world.

The space between them was thick with tension, a storm neither of them could outrun. Y/N’s heart pounded, her breath coming in uneven waves as she tried to steady herself.

Harry looked wrecked, his hands twitching at his sides like he was holding himself back, like the only thing keeping him from reaching for her was the fear that she’d pull away.

“I thought about coming back a million times,” he admitted, his voice raw. “But every time I convinced myself it was too late. That you’d moved on, that I’d lost my chance.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I waited for you, Harry.” Her voice cracked, but she didn’t care. “You said if we were meant to be, we’d find our way back. And I believed you.” She swallowed hard. 

His jaw tensed, pain flashing in his eyes. “I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That you deserved better than someone who left you.” His voice was barely above a whisper, like he hated himself for even saying it. “Scared that if I came back, I’d ruin you all over again.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her emotions bubbling too close to the surface. “And what about me?” she whispered. “Did you ever think about what it did to me when you didn’t come back?”

Harry flinched like she had physically struck him. He took a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair before looking at her again, his green eyes burning into hers. “I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N. Not for a single day.”

She sucked in a breath, her hands trembling at her sides. “Why now, Harry?”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Because I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t stand in the same room as you and act like I don’t still love you.”

Y/N’s heart slammed against her ribs. “You—”

“I love you.” His voice was steady, sure. “I never stopped.”

A strangled breath escaped her lips. Every wall she had built over the years, every defense she had tried to put up—it all crumbled in an instant.

Because she loved him, too.

She always had.

And maybe she always would.

Before she could stop herself, before she could think about the consequences, she surged forward, her hands gripping his face as she crashed her lips against his.

Harry let out a soft, surprised sound before sinking into her, his hands flying to her waist, pulling her closer, like he had been starving for her.

The kiss was desperate, aching, filled with everything they had lost, everything they had missed, everything that still burned between them.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and shaken, Harry rested his forehead against hers, his hands still firm on her waist.

“Tell me it’s not too late,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she cupped his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek.

“It was never too late,” she whispered back.

Harry let out a shaky breath, his forehead still resting against hers. His grip on her waist tightened, like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go.

Y/N felt the warmth of his skin, the way his chest rose and fell in sync with hers, and for the first time in years, she felt like she could breathe.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her fingers still cradling his face. His green eyes were glassy, searching hers for something—reassurance, hope, maybe even forgiveness.

“I can’t do this again if you’re not sure, Harry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I barely survived losing you once.”

Harry shook his head instantly, his hands cupping the small of her back, holding her like he never wanted to let go. “I’m sure,” he said, his voice firm. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. “You say that now.”

“I say that because I know what it’s like without you.” He swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “I’ve spent five years trying to figure out who I am, trying to find something that felt even remotely close to what we had. And I couldn’t.”

Her breath hitched, and she let her hands drop from his face to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

“So what now?” she murmured.

Harry gave her a small, almost nervous smile. “Now I prove to you that I mean it.”

Y/N felt something crack open inside her, something she had kept locked away since the day he left.

Before she could second-guess herself, before doubt could creep in, she nodded. “Okay.”

Harry’s face softened, and he let out a breath of relief. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

A slow, almost disbelieving grin spread across his face before he leaned in again, pressing the gentlest, most reverent kiss against her lips—like he was sealing a promise.

Y/N melted into him, her fingers curling into his shirt, anchoring herself to him, to this.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy.

But it was them.

[mairon-goth-minion]

so I took some liberties with the prompt whoops word count: 1542

I remember the day I first met Cain like it was yesterday. It was a coincidence, as his parents took him to a ball the instant he turned eighteen despite his being sick. The same ball I attended after I’d just finished my training. He was young, I was younger and I was foolish, but foolishness is a trait shared by most seventeen years old, I believe. Nevertheless, not knowing who he was, not knowing that his station was far above mine and that he was not the son of a knight as I was but the heir to a duchy, I approached him.

Despite his feeble demeanor, he… shone. Was it his golden locks, falling as a river down to his waist? Was it his emerald eyes, brighter than any jewel I’d ever seen? Both? I do not know.

So I went towards him. At first, he looked surprised to see someone reaching out. Did he not know just how beautiful he was? His first words to me were “‘Who are you?’” ‘Hector of Redenbrough, but you can call me Hector. Or Hec. Whichever you prefer.’ I grinned. ‘Hector…’ he said, his voice but a whisper. ‘I am Cain.’

At first, I had believed that the lack of last name came from an embarrassment on his behalf, and had believed him to be born in a rather low station. I could not have been more wrong.

‘Well, Cain, will you offer me this dance?’ I could have asked anyone else, but I didn’t want to. It was all about Cain, and it always has been ever since. His cheeks flushed, he took my hand. It was plainly obvious that he’d never danced before, but I gently led him. I did not care about the amount of times he stepped on my foot. He was too light for it to hurt. It was a happy moment.

The second time we met, he was twenty five, and still terribly sick. A gaunt, pale thing. His father had passed and he had become the Duke of Sulinard, as well as my superior. I think that he recognized me, when he looked at the legions of knights standing in front of him, kneeling. Why else would he have chosen me to be his bodyguard? Was it a coincidence?

I remember the surprise that I’d felt that day, both because of learning his identity as one of the most powerful men in the Kingdom and because I was selected amongst so many others.

“‘Congrats, Hec!’” were words I heard many times, and I remember getting drunk in a tavern with friends, celebrating my new position.

It was a year later that things began growing sour. Cain’s health was rapidly declining, as were my hopes.

See, Cain and I had become friends. I don’t think that he ever had anyone to talk to before I came along and took him to the dance floor, and I didn’t mind spending my days talking with the most intelligent and beautiful person I’d ever met. He fascinated me. He was gentle and frail, but held within him an infinite curiosity for the world, and I could have spent my entire life merely watching Cain talk of things he’d read in his books. So when he was too weak to leave his bed, I became desperate.

I knew that his illness had no cure, and what could I, a mere knight, do when his rich family had tried everything? Well, there are certain things that desperate men will do when all hope seems lost that not even the vilest of humans would even consider. I made a pact with a vampire.

Following rumors and whispers, and after months of research, I found Hara in a small shepherd’s village, where she fed off of sheep. She was starving, and I offered her my blood in exchange for Cain’s life.

Hara didn’t want to, at first, having promised herself never to kill, but I was a desperate fool, and I would have done anything for Cain. So she drank, and drank, and drank, for the first time in her life. I think that she would have drank all of my blood had I not stopped her. When I brought her to Sulinard, Cain was on his deathbed. I was nearly too late. Everyone had lost hope, and he laid on the cold sheets alone with no one by his side.

I took his icy hand, pressing it to my lips, tears staining my cheeks as Hara sank her teeth into his neck. Was I a monster for doing this to him? After all, I had condemned him to an eternity of thirst for my selfish desire to remain by his side.

When she was done, Hara turned to me, grief in her eyes. ‘You know what you made me do, don’t you?’ ‘I do.’ ‘He will never forgive you.’ ‘I do not care if he hates me for ever, as long as I can see him smile one last time.’ I was compelled to honesty. ‘I do not care whether or not he lives an existence of misery, if it means that I know that he breathes still.’ ‘You condemn him to a life of shadows.’ ‘I know.’ ‘He will be hated.’ ‘I know.’ ‘He will be alone.’ ‘I know.’ Hara shook her head, furious. ‘You are the true monster here.’ ‘I know.’ She left, and I never saw her again. Perhaps she still feeds on sheep in faraway villages.

When Cain woke up, I cried of joy. My master had opened his eyes. ‘Hector? Wh- Why am I alive?’ When I told him what had happened, I saw horror in his eyes. ‘You did what?’ His voice was sharper than my sword, and I nearly flinched. ‘You are an undying, My Lord.’ ‘No,’ he said, crestfallen, looking truly afraid. The fear was soon replaced by a glorious fury I’d never seen before in his eyes. ‘WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?’ ‘I couldn’t lose you.’ Grief flooded in his eyes as I said those words. ‘So I will be the one to lose you?’ Clenching my teeth, I nodded. ‘No,’ he whispered once more as the room became suddenly dark. ‘You will remain by my side, Hector, and you may never leave it.’ Shadows twirled all around us, lashing at my skin, leaving red bleeding wounds, but I did not scream nor feel any pain, too lost was I in his eyes, darker than the void of a starless night. ‘Magnificent…’ I murmured as the shadows tore open my chest and entered my heart. It was more pain than I’d ever felt before, shooting through my body as poisoned needles in my veins, and I screamed and screamed and screamed, crying of pain. Yet through this I laughed. I was happy that it was Cain who was hurting me. What a sick and twisted monster I am.

When I opened my eyes, I was in his bed, blood covering the sheets, and he was standing next to me, his clothes and mouth tainted red. Whose blood was it? I would have said mine had my flesh not been completely void of scars or wounds. I soon learned that it was the other members of this household whom he had killed. His mother, his sister, his servants, all of them. I did not mourn any. All that mattered was that Cain was still standing.

The shadows apparently had left a black mark on me, on the back of my neck. As long as he lived, I would too, and I was to belong to him forever. I was the happiest man alive.

For centuries, I stood by his side, as his bodyguard, as his friend, as his companion. I killed any person daring to try and harm him, and I did whatever he asked of me.

I am different than I was. At first, I remained a proud knight despite my belonging to a vampire, only slaying in duels or war. But now? I am no better than an animal. When I fight, it is no longer as a knight. I am a dog, a vicious one, a dog that’s lived for centuries by his master’s side. When I fight, it’s with my teeth and nails, in alleyways where no one can see the bodies of those whom I mutilate.

Cain still resents me, I think. He sent me to war many times. I have seen horrors. I have seen trenches of blood. I have seen the loss of faith. I have seen what Men can do when they let go of morals. Cain resents me but still he loves me, sharing with me his bed and body.

“‘Who are you?’” His words from a distant past echo in my ears, sometimes. Today, my answer would be ‘I am yours’.

You are the knight bodyguard of a vampire, but as the centuries went by it became less and less noble. Now you're mostly just a glorified servant, and when you fight it is not an honourable duel, it's shanking someone in an alleyway.

[amara-scott]

Never been loved.

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Slytherin!female Reader Tags: Angst, Angst, Angst

Prompt: "You've never been loved, I can tell."

It would have been a beautiful spring day in the courtyard of hogwarts. But standing before Mattheo—you knew this was possibly a turning point about to happen. Your best friend. Having built that trusting relationship with him was hard. On both sides. But you stuck together and knew each other well.

But now the tension between you and Mattheo is thick, like a storm ready to break. You can feel it in the air, the unspoken words that hang between you both, electrifying the space. And yet, the weight of it all crashes down with the finality of your words, words that you didn't even realize held so much truth. "You've never been loved, I can tell." You don’t know why you said it, why the words slipped from your lips like a confession, an accusation. But the moment they leave your mouth, they settle over him like a shadow, dark and unavoidable.

You watch him, frozen, as his gaze falters, as if a part of him dies with your words. His shoulders drop, and for the briefest moment, he looks almost… human. Vulnerable. The walls he so carefully constructed around himself seem to crack, and for the first time, you see the weight he’s been carrying—the one he’s never let anyone see.

But Mattheo doesn’t speak. Not right away. His lips tremble, just slightly, as if the words he wants to say are too much to bear. His breathing is shallow, uneven. It’s a quiet sort of pain, the kind that threatens to swallow him whole, but he refuses to let it. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, the harshness in his voice an attempt to mask the tremor you caught. His jaw clenches, his eyes narrow, but they can’t hide the flicker of something deep within them.

You wish you could take back the words, erase the hurt you’ve caused him, but you can't. The damage has been done, and now all you can do is watch him retreat behind that mask again.

“You don’t know me,” he snaps, cutting your thoughts off. The rawness in his tone pulls at your chest, makes your heart ache for him in a way you hadn’t expected. He’s breaking, but he won’t let you see it. His walls go back up, taller and colder than before, as he presses his lips together, trying to maintain control.

“You don’t know my name,” he continues, but it’s not the name he’s referring to. It’s something deeper, something that has been built over years of pressure, expectations, and burdens no one should ever bear.

You reach for him, words forming on your tongue, but they choke you as he takes a step back. The tears that threaten to spill seem to freeze in your throat. You want to apologize, to explain yourself, but the words are too heavy, the apology too fragile.

He shakes his head then, and you feel the weight of his emotions like a physical blow. “No,” he says, voice cracking. “You don’t have the right to talk about me. Talk about love. You don’t know anything about me.” His voice raises, and you flinch, a tiny part of you bracing for the anger that you know is coming. But then—then his eyes soften, and a single tear escapes, rolling down his cheek, tracing the path of all the years of grief he’s kept locked away.

The world tilts as you see that tear. It shatters everything you thought you knew about him. The bravado, the indifference—it all crumbles. He’s not invincible. He’s not the cold, untouchable boy he’s shown everyone.

You want to reach out, to take his face in your hands and promise him that it doesn’t have to be like this, but the fear that grips you—fear of what he’ll do, of what this moment will mean—paralyzes you.

When he speaks again, his voice is low, but it cuts through you like a knife. “I think it’s best if we part ways from now on.” The words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything goes still. The wind dies, the distant sounds of the castle fade. His voice is the only thing that matters now.

Before you can process what’s happening, he’s turning away from you, walking toward the castle with a speed that leaves you breathless, leaves you empty. You stand there, a hollow ache settling in your chest.

Your feet move before your mind catches up, and you grab his arm, forcing him to stop. “Mattheo, no—don’t say that.” But he doesn’t even look at you. His body stiffens, his hand brushes yours off as if it’s a weight he can’t bear.

“I’m only saying what you would expect of me. Your image of me is quite apparent. Since you know me so well.” His words are cruel, but they are truth. And it cuts deeper than anything he’s said before. You step back, your heart sinking with the realization that he’s right.

With one last glance over his shoulder, he’s gone, leaving you standing in the shadows of the evening, alone.

Days pass. You bury yourself in your studies, pretending like it doesn’t matter. You let the ache settle in your bones, telling yourself that you’re stronger than this, that you’re better off without him. But every time you close your eyes, you see him—his face, the way his eyes softened for the briefest moment before he pulled away from you, the tear that marked the end of everything.

Pansy finds you in the library, but even she can see the storm brewing inside you. She drags you out, forces you to confront what you’ve done, and somehow, you find yourself standing at the threshold of the common room, looking at Mattheo across the room.

You stand frozen at the entrance to the common room, your breath shallow, heart pounding. The noise around you seems to fade into a dull hum as you lock eyes with Mattheo. He’s sitting there, looking as casual as ever, but there’s something in his gaze that stops you cold—something colder than you’ve ever seen before. It’s like he’s trying to shut himself off from you, a wall rising in the space between you that feels miles wide.

Pansy’s grip on your sleeve is the only thing keeping you tethered to the present, but even her silent pressure on your arm doesn’t make your feet move. She knows what’s going on in your head, even if you’re too caught up in the chaos to say it.

Mattheo’s face remains unreadable as his eyes flicker between the fireplace and the others in the room, but the tension in the air is thick. You can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt, or simply indifferent—but the chill in his expression tells you enough. It’s the same kind of look he’s given you every time you’ve pulled away, each time you’ve said something wrong, like you’ve been a weight dragging him down.

“I think I should go,” you mutter to Pansy, your voice barely louder than a whisper. You can feel your hands trembling, the nervousness creeping up your spine.

Pansy doesn’t let go of your sleeve. Instead, she gently pulls you forward, her usual playful tone gone, replaced with a sharp, no-nonsense edge. “No. You’re not running away this time. Not from this.”

Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you feel like you might suffocate under the weight of it all—the fight, the guilt, the fear that he’ll never forgive you. But Pansy is already moving, leading you towards the fire where the others are seated. The firelight flickers in your eyes as you step forward, your body feeling heavy, like you’re walking through quicksand.

Mattheo doesn’t look up right away, but when he does, you feel the full force of his gaze. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask you how you’re doing or what you’ve been up to. It’s like the space between you has grown into something vast and impenetrable, and no words can bridge that gap. You wonder if that’s what you deserve after what you said, after what you did.

“You don’t have to do this,” Pansy says softly, but there’s a firmness beneath her words. “But if you don’t, you’ll never know if things could be fixed.”

You can’t breathe for a moment. Everything in you screams to just leave, to hide away again, but you know she’s right. You’ve never been good at facing what you’ve done. But if you leave now, you might lose him forever. And you can’t do that.

You stop in front of Mattheo, the words stuck in your throat. For a long moment, you don’t know where to start. It feels like you’ve already said everything you could say, yet nothing at all. But it’s different now. You’re standing here, staring at him, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not running.

"Can we- talk?" You don't hear your own words as you speak and hold your breath while you wait, still contemplating if you could make a run for it—but Pansy is right. Mattheo doesn't spare you a glance as he simply stands up and walks past you, toward a secluded corner in the common room, two armchairs next to each other, a dim lit candle and tall bookshelves rising to the ceiling. You join him as he sits, fiddling with my robe until you take a deep breath, finally looking up at him.

“I—I’m sorry.” The words feel like they’ve been stuck in your chest for so long. You swallow hard, voice cracking slightly. “I never meant to hurt you.”

He stares at you in silence, his jaw tightening, but there’s something there now—a flicker of recognition in his eyes, something that tells you he’s listening. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. You don’t know if that’s a good thing, but it’s a start.

“I know I fucked up. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I—” You pause, unsure of what to say next, your chest tightening with the weight of all the things you should have said before. “I care about you, Mattheo. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone.”

He doesn’t speak for a long while, and for a moment, it feels like the world has frozen around you both. But then, slowly, his lips part. His voice is low, almost like it’s coming from somewhere deep inside him, a place he’s been hiding for too long.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.” His gaze is soft, almost vulnerable, and it shakes you to your core. “You don’t have to say anything you think I want to hear.”

“Then what do you want to hear?” you ask, almost desperately. “Because I don’t know how to fix this.”

“You don’t have to fix it. Just… be here. With me. No more walls.”

Your heart beats faster at his words. It’s not perfect, it’s not the answer you hoped for, but it’s something. Something you can work with.

And when he stands, taking a small step toward you, you feel the knot in your chest loosen just a little bit, so you stand as well. His arms, warm and familiar, slide around your shoulders, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel so alone.

“Let’s not do this again,” he murmurs against your hair, pulling you close as you clutch his dress shirt, shutting your eyes tightly.

And you nod, knowing that no matter how long it takes, you’ll keep trying. You’ll keep showing up, even when the storm inside you feels too strong to bear.

For him. For you.

For what you both deserve.