#almost gives you a claustrophobic feeling
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soupradio · 6 hours ago
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I know most of us see this scene as Sevika not knowing what to do or being afraid/worried in this moment, but as someone who has very similar crashouts to Jinx, this scene felt very refreshing.
Sevika's reaction isn't one we see a lot in media and it's kinda what solidified her as a comfort character for me because I didn't feel any judgement in her silence. We have yet, from what I remember, to see anyone in the show handle Jinx's breakdowns like this. And it worked, she (mostly) composed herself without hurting anyone.
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In the final episode of season one we got this scene of the mad hatter tea party scene where jinx starts having a melt down again. This scene was difficult for me to watch because of just how realistic it is. The yelling and fast movement from all sides of the room, mixing with the shouting and howling inside your own head, all of the overstimulation almost turning your brain into tv static in the most painful way possible, only pushing you further and further into this ball of humiliation, fear, and panic curled up in a space that feels like an empty ballroom and a claustrophobic cage all at once.
Despite both Vi and Silco trying to help jinx in this moment, it's only making it worse driver her further and further into that state untill something drastic happens. So it's a pleasant surprise to see a character not do that, and just wait it out, let it happen, give Jinx the space to allow her to calm herself with silence that no one else except I guess Isha gives her to do that.
Tumblr is testing my patients fr I've tried posting this like 5 times
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mydaylight · 2 years ago
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We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson: English covers
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megumi 🤝🏽 yuuji
dying even if it’s only for a good minute only to be brought back to life bc fate realizes if they died for real then they would need to find someone else to fuck over. those two are like fates favorite barbie dolls.
apologies if this post is going to seem all over the place, just bear with me. i don’t even know if you’re going to see this BUT it’s okay bc i need to get this out my system 😭.
starting off — god, imagine the chaos that will ensue when megumi tells nobara & yuuji about his very tragic history with the zenins. but like he wouldn’t even tell them straight up, he’ll just make a little deadpan joke (my sarcastic, sassy son) & the others would look at him like : ??? wtf do you mean by that sea urchin head???
like imagine itafushikugi going shopping for like traditional japanese clothes for a little festival or some shit (megumi was dragged by his spikes to come along) & nobara is having the time of her life finding outfits for her & the boys. like it got to the point where she’s dressing them herself & she shows megumi an outfit that looked similar to the robe he was forced to wear bc of the zenin (it’s obviously not the same) & megumi just refuses to wear a robe with similar color patterns to the zenin robe.
megumi: that looks like the outfit the zenin forced me to wear. i wonder what happened to it, cause the last thing i know, i got blood all over it. so as the second member of the zenin hate club, im not wearing that….
megumi: wait that blue one looks decent. i’m going to try it on.
nobara:
yuuji:
nobara: …did he really leave without giving us the “ getting blood on a zenin’s robe” story?
imagine maki complaining about naoya in front of the first years, & maki just brings up naoya’s onesided beef with megumi & her stories of how naoya was so petty back in his childhood made him remember who tf naoya is (megs have selective memory, it’s okay)
megumi: ugh, he was so annoying. i remember when he came to my middle school back when gojo was busy dealing with the aftermath of his evil ex boyfriend evil plan & he basically kidnapped me. i was stuck in a car with that man for 40 minutes..you would hate him nobara.
maki: yeah you would hate him nobara.
yuuji: i’m sorry he kidnapped you??? why did you say that so casually?
nobara: fuck that. megumi is a disney princess, we know this already. BUT we’re just gonna gloss over gojo had an evil boyfriend?
& imagine when megumi finally tells his friends about the zenin clan was when yuuji just came back from the dead & they were asking how tf that’s possible. & somewhere in that conversation megumi just let it slip that his heart stopped beating once & itakugi looks at him in silence:
megumi: yeah the zenin clan basically forced me to exorcise some curses & complete a ritual to get a snake — that snake fucking bit me. it was my least favorite. but yeah i basically died. then yuuta brought me back. then i was blind for a good minute.
nobara, yuuji, & even sukuna:
megumi: it was a terrible time for me. gojo was even more clingier & protective. it got to a point where he started treating me like i was 6 again… reading me bedtime stories, singing me lullabies & describing the pictures in the stories since i was…yknow blind.
cue itakugi & even sukuna wanting to burn down the zenin but ofc they can’t do that…so they settle for pulling pranks on the members & traumatizing them ofc.
IM ALSO imagining how funny it would be for yuuji to be jealous of yuuta. like bro is basically living yuuji’s fantasy world. i’m giggling at the idea of yuuji fighting for his life to be either megumi favorite or nanami’s favorite.
you also opened my eye to the potential of maki & tsumiki… like i also like to imagine that in a happier world, they would understand each other on such a deep level. but they would also find parts of the other that they wished they had. but on a happier note i like to imagine that megumi would suffer whenever it was brought up that his aunt is basically dating his step sister. like maki would be a menace to megumi. every little thing he do? maki is texting tsumiki in a corner.
maki watching itafushi cook together in the kitchen: i can’t believe megumi has a boyfriend. it’s so cute that he thinks that he can hide this from me. lemme go snitch to tsumiki.
maki listening to megumi describe his fight with sukuna, a cursed spirit who apparently has a stripping problem: oh my god. megumi is truly yuuta’s boy. they both got cursed spirits obsessed with them…i need to tell tsumiki.
maki to megumi after witnessing his suicidal tendencies: don’t make me tell tsumiki.
i honestly love your story. the way you added so much more to megumi childhood is beautiful. it just make soooo much sense. but also your characterization of gojo is so precious to me. i’m waiting for gojo to go apeshit on the zenin. i’m also giggling in anticipation at gojo finding out about yuuta attachment to megumi. i like to imagine him to be kind of worried about it actually, bc that’s not fucking healthy. but i imagine him getting used to it since megumi will have a protector in the form of yuuta & his power of love.
i’m also curious to see mai’s role in this story since.
*sighs in disappointment at gege writing choices*
since she had a crush on megumi…yeah. but imma just interpret that as she wants to be his family. it keeps me sane
i also wanted to ask if there’s a chance that you would write a megumi POV of what happened in the zenin clan? ofc i would understand if you wouldn’t since it leaves a much more ominous feeling to the events. plus yuuta running commentary is a good mix of angst & humor so ofc i understand.
Yuuji: man fushiguro almost checks the boxes for a Disney princess. except he was never kidnapped or enslaved
Megumi, sold to the Zenin clan, who later kidnapped him: *sweating*
Nobara and Yuuji would be the co-vice presidents of the "fuck the Zenin clan" club if they knew what happened. They would be the presidents but yuuta and maki are already in a death match for the position and they're trying to avoid the bloodshed. they are not allowed to be treasurer because neither of them know how money works.
megumi is unaware that a formal club has been formed.
Megumi is suffering SO HARD in any world where maki and tsumiki are together. they won't stop ganging up on him when it comes to his love life and general wellbeing and holding hands where he has to see it. maki lectures him about his suicidal tendencies in the field, holds up one finger, calls tsumiki, and lets her pick up where she left off. maki tries to talk to him about relationships one (1) time and he tries to drown himself.
see i'm pretty open to writing a megumi POV but it, like most of my stories, falls in this nebulous category of "if i have the time." like, i've thought about writing megumi's pov before, there's a lot of stuff that happened that exists as like, background knowledge for me that will never make it through yuuta's pov because it doesn't make sense for yuuta to find out about it. It would be very tonally different, but if i did write it, it would be a different work entirely and i'd be making sea glass gardens into a series.
i'm eternally tempted by the siren call of making my works into a series. If i did it with sea glass gardens, i would want to add a one shot of Megumi's pov during the time leading up to sea glass gardens and a short multi-chapter of the gojo, nanami, shoko teen parenting trio. If I have the time, it will exist; if i don't, it won't.
#ironically the one thing that WOULD endear yuuta to yuuji is finding out about all of this#yuuji would instantly love him for all he did for Their Boy. it's the only way i see megumi actually fessing up to what happened#i think megumi's just someone who's really private and uncomfortable with people knowing a lot about him and he would try to hide this from#itakugi for as long as he could. it probably eats at him that the second years all saw him like this. i think he just hates feeling vulnera#megumi gives him the /extremely/ abridged version of events to get yuuji and nobara to chill about yuuta and how he acts (yuuji is convince#that there's no one who could be that perfect nobara keeps looking for homosexual explanations) and they instantly veer hard into finding#out everything there is to know about the zenin and how to hurt them and also yuuta's like. beloved in their eyes. megumi is their boy.#they love their boy. yuuta saved their boy. ergo they love yuuta now. it's simple math.#tonal shift is a huge sort of struggle with me as a writer just because i change my styles with every narrator#which is why it's kind of hard to flip between works if the tone is too different. i was trying to juggle sea glass gardens and toy rosarie#and i was just internally screaming b/c yuuta and jack could NOT be more different with narration styles and i was like 'fuckkkkkkkkk'#with yuuta i structure sentences with a lot of 'space' in them. i don't have a better word for it i'm not actually trained in writing so#it's all just whatever shit i made up along the way i have no officially terms. anyway. Yuuta's sentences are structured to have this sort#of detached distance between the actual message and the start of the sentence. So we end up with a lot of sentences that start w/ structure#like “yuuta thinks” and Yuuta feels“ b/c I think of yuuta as a very detached person because of how he lived. it's a survival mechanism.#a lot of the meat of what he feels has to come in almost absentmindedly. So you end up with Yuuta's suicide scene and losing the knife and#him having a line like “He swears he never meant any of the bad things he did” and the fact that he thinks his own survival is a bad thing#/he's/ to blame for is almost backdoor'd in as a given premise. it's assumed. it's not even the point of the sentence. he's been living wit#jack murdock meanwhile is an intensively retrospective character that's meant to make you almost feel claustrophobic from how “close” his#narration style is. a lot of the actual message is conveyed through imagined scenarios and emotional recollection. he's a character steeped#in regret who has been torturing himself with it for years. yuuta's survival mechanism is isolation but jacks been yearning to get back wha#he lost for so long and dreaming of it that he's steeped in really vivid internal imaginings.#with jack you have multipage lamentations remembering his son buying cereal with him but yuuta drops the fact that his parents stopped#loving him at some point and it's not even the most important thing in the sentence. it's included as a qualifier because yuuta has accepte#so much of the bad things that happened to him when he shouldn't have whereas jack hasn't accepted ANYTHING that happened.#Yuuta uses a lot of very clean cut grammatically correct narration and jacks is riddled with a bunch of “ain't's” and grammatical errors.#he has an accent for lack of a better term. so you end up w/ two characters who convey information in different ways prioritize different#info in their sentences use different sentence structures etc. so megumi would have a /very different/ style and tone from yuutas that woul#sort of shape any fic that came through him because all of my fics are primarily shaped through the narrator's voice. it's also why I set#kind of hard lines about whether a fic can have any narrator or just specific narrators b/c it determines the whole tone.
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team-frightfur · 7 months ago
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(Theyre also blushing but i cant figure out why). Both Kenzan and Johan are more focused on Judai tho, which could either be bc theyre both gay for him or cause this takes place post s4 (so theyre happy to see Jou enjoying life again after his depression). Then you have Fubuki and Asuka in the corner. Fubuki is doing his standout uncoordinated cloudcuckoolander bit by not wearing blue/black/white/yellow like everyone else (get with the program, man!) Instead he's going for that... christmas ensemble? With the rare red....tho now I see it, there's also judais pants and the coke bottles and the red cups and oh my god it was a red/blue/green/yellow colour scheme all along. ANYWAY, while Asuka is more serious with her modest clothing and walking boots, she has this small smile. Like, clearly she's not super duper ecstatic over his dumbass ukelele serenades, but she'll humour him today of all days, not just because it's a special day but because she looooves having her brother back.
Final verdict: this pic honestly just gets better the more you look at it. It makes me wish i had synesthesia just so I could taste the cozy hot chocolate vibes. Like its truly utterly immaculate. Kudos to you for all time!!!
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#Incrredible absolutely incredible vibes here holy cow. Especially as an australian freezing in midwinter. Unmatched coziness#like it has that top tier cozy wood cottage setting (respect for graining the floor panels btw) so you can practically see the snow outside#I know they're drinking coke but in my heart that is hot chocolate ok it is beautiful hot chocolate and maybe there is pho somewhere#anyway I also really like how the orange/blue/green mesh together in this piece. It's not too uniform or restrained or blocky. Instead#the colours are diffused throughout the piece. This gives it a lot of balance while simultanously preserving the warmth and cohesion#like manjo asuka ryo and johan in their matching obelisk blues + the night sky outside + the blue books + the blue on Yugis poster tv etc#then ofc the green of the plants + yellow/green rug + Jims croco and fubus pants. The green works esp well to bridge the blue and orange#as opposed to a blade runner style scheme. Anyway I also love how you use blue/black shadows. Specifically how they go fuzzy at the ends#With a nice lil orange glow. I think the strongest example of this is Johan. his white shirt really shows off the blue/orange -> purple fuz#It makes the lighting feel really soft. Also mad respect for this whole setting concept like this room is impressively geometrical#and perfectly angled yet it has that lived in clutter vibe with the book under the tv + the abandoned singular sock + the unkempt comic#books + spread cards + etc. Theres also so much personality to it in the kitty rug smiling clock and posters all over.#Im gonna guess its judais place bc pharoah and the pic of Judai and Johan. Also its slightly irresponsible in a very Judai way.#this would NOT be jims place! he would NOT let his croco eat. uh. Movie film? its not croco food is all Im saying. Anyway. Adding into how#cozy and real this piece feels is the excellent lighting work. Not only is there multiple sources of light and shadow but they overlap#impeccably and have a subtle yet defined limit. I particularly love the two lamps by Asuka and Fubuki. The little shadow hatching on the#walls and window sills around them + the soft airbrush lighting makes this lovely subtle yet defined circle shape. Together with the#light coming thru the door its rly nice. Then theres the general shadow on Croco side of the piece with the deeper shadows from the house#ornaments and edo and such. Like its a small thing but it requires so much thought and dedication and fuckin math that I must salute#speaking of maths the most impressive part of this pic geometrically is the wall at edos side. The angle is sharp yet feels so natural.#yknow what I think that gets into the coziness too. The setting is so boxy and well defined that it almost seems to snug hug the characters#we get the sense of a limited space which is filled by the presence personality and warmth of this friend group. Nothing feels empty#this realisation makes me appreciate the cut off second floor that the stairs lead to cause it adds a roof which further boxes em in#the effect is like peeking into a moeblob yugioh diorama. But instead of being saucy or claustrophobic its just so cozy you could die#anyway last notes I love how the calendar on the wall has a little x we can infer is today!!! because the homeowner was So! Excited!!!#and I love the lonely fan on the bookcase and flower on the cactus (that is a well loved spiky boye). Anyway. Now onto the characters!#now onto the characters! (tho I feel like the environment deserves even more love I just dont have the words yknow) to start with#I love all the eye contact and how it economically explains so many relationships. Edo has this smug grin @ Ryo while Manjo looks both#annoyed and unimpressed (maybe because Ryo is late after work?). All of them have suits to show theyre all hard working pro duellists#Sho and Judai are also looking to Ryo but with a more casual vibe like “welcome home bro!” “welcome home bro of my bro!” Theyre also
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hacked-wtsdz · 4 months ago
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I love early seasons supernatural aesthetics so much. The isolated highways, funky motel rooms, neon signs, shiny guns and shiny cars, leather jackets, old books, through a film camera lens in seasons one and two, makes for such a specific atmosphere. It transfers the isolation Sam and Dean experience so well, cramped into the seats of a 67’ Chevy impala, claustrophobically un-alone while individually lonely. The nasty, sometimes created with horrible special effects, monsters really do look monstrous, unsettling more than outright terrifying. With yellow eyes, in dirty clothes, glitching and pale. The whole colour palette is grey-ish and cold, you almost feel the contrasted darkness, the distrust, the nagging belief that something wicked may be hiding behind every corner, behind every corner of your own self as well. Idk. The blood looks dark, the sulfur looks sickeningly yellow, the skin looks unnaturally pale. It’s all so horror-coded, and gives such an atmosphere of instability in your own existence in the world, which aligns with the themes of the seasons. This atmosphere, to me, makes it a better horror show than if it had had better special effects and scarier monsters. Because the horrifying is in the daily existence, in how you are, rather than what you face.
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soaps-mohawk · 18 days ago
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Cherry Red, Cimson Blood
Chapter 41: Revenge
Summary: A surprise trip to America has things turning in a direction no one thought they would
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 6,390
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, a/b/o, alternate universe, dead dove: do not eat, graphic violence, torture, on screen death, stabbing, knives, choking, punching, blood, aftermath of death, emotions, angst, trauma, very small hint of comfort
A/N: Please, please heed the warnings. This chapter deals with some heavy topics and rehashes a lot of Chapter 34. I've put a trigger warning before everything starts and if you don't want to read it then skip from there to the next section. You'll be able to put two and two together from there.
Also if you haven't seen, I went back and changed a pretty major plot point from chapter 34 onward and it will need to be read to really understand this chapter
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“You’re in charge.” John says, passing over the keys to Dr. Keller. “Hold down the fort. Take some time for yourself.” 
“Invite over Ashley.” Kyle winks as he passes. 
“Cute.” Dr. Keller says, rolling her eyes. 
“Call if anything happens.” John continues, ignoring Kyle’s remark. “You know how to get a hold of us.” 
“I do.” Dr. Keller nods. “I’ll make sure the cottage is still standing when you get back.” She glances at the car. “Take care of her.” 
“We will. We’ll make sure she’s still in one piece when we get back.” 
“You better.” Dr. Keller says, giving him a look. “Safe travels.” 
Kyle closes the car door, cutting off the rest of the conversation. You’re squeezed in the back of the car between him and Johnny. It is a tight squeeze between the two of them and their broad shoulders. It’s not the most comfortable position, but the decision to leave one car behind has sealed your fate. 
Simon is in the front passenger seat, looking about as happy to be there as you feel. His arm is leaned against the door, his gaze set out the front windshield. His scent is thick in the air, musky and leathery. It’s a mixed cocktail of scents in the small enclosed space, but Simon’s is the loudest. 
John opens the driver’s side door, climbing into the car. It felt cramped before, but now it feels almost claustrophobic. 
“Just an hour drive and you can stretch your legs.” He says, and you know he’s talking to you. 
“Where are we going?” You ask as he drives down the long driveway. 
“America.” He says, giving you the same answer he gave you before. 
“Why?” You ask, knowing what the answer is going to be. 
“We have some things we need to take care of.” He answers simply. 
“What things?” You pry, already guessing where this conversation is going to go. 
“I already told you.” He replies. Simon glances at him, but says nothing. 
“You told me nothing.” You purse your lips. 
“It’s a surprise.” He says, almost like he’s rehearsed this before. 
“I hate surprises.” You say, leaning back in your seat, your scent souring a bit. “If you bothered to pay attention you’d know that.” The last bit is hardly more than a murmur, but you know he heard you in the enclosed space. 
It falls silent in the car, the five of you sitting there awkwardly after the exchange. It’s been a long time since you’ve been so bombarded by their scents all at once, and it’s been a long time since they’ve been so surrounded by your own scent. It reminds you of that time months ago after Simon returned from his solo assignment when you’d kissed in the car and nearly drove them all insane with an explosion of your scent. 
Only this time, your scent has gone sour with your displeasure and agitation at the lack of information from John.
This time Simon is the first to cave, cracking the car window to let in some air and disperse the heavy scents. 
It’s going to be a long hour. 
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Traveling is your worst nightmare. 
Or, at least, traveling like this. 
It’s only the five of you on the plane, some private jet that Kate had procured. It’s a nice plane, but at the same time, being enclosed with your pack for nine hours isn’t exactly ideal. You thought the cottage was bad at times, but at least there you could go outside and escape from them. 
Now you’re really stuck with them. 
Thankfully they’ve mostly left you alone for the duration of the flight, letting you sit in your seat with a book in silence. John and Simon have been in a corner conversing for the better part of the flight, glancing at you every so often. Johnny has slept through most of it, reclined in a seat not far from them. You wondered for a moment if he was faking it to listen in, but when the snores started you knew he really was out. Kyle is in a position not unlike your own, huddled in a seat with a book, minding his own business. 
You really want to know what John and Simon are discussing, what has held their attention for so long. It’s gotten heated a few times, John’s brows pulling into a frown, his lips moving rapidly. Simon’s shoulders keep squaring and relaxing, giving you insight into the rise and fall of emotions during the conversation. You can imagine his face mirroring John’s, his brows pinching in worry or frustration or perhaps even anger. 
Whatever it is, it’s serious enough to last a good part of the flight.
You’re ushered into a car almost as soon as the wheels touch the tarmac and the plane has stopped. You’re stuck between Johnny and Kyle again, but at least the SUV is spacious enough to not have you crammed in like sardines. Your legs are stiff and sore after sitting for the better part of eight hours, but you’re not about to complain. Not with the way John’s hands are gripping the steering wheel. 
If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he was having second thoughts about whatever is happening. 
You still don’t know. 
They still haven’t told you. 
The airstrip the jet landed in looked to be a private one as well, isolated in a grassy area with rolling hills of green and a few sparse trees missing their leaves. You almost fear it might be Texas again, given the warmth of the air for a time so late in the year, but you want to believe they wouldn’t be that cruel to you. At least you hope that’s the case. 
The drive takes longer than the one in England, time seeming to stretch on endlessly as it did in the plane. You’re tired after the flight, but curiosity is keeping you awake and aware. You almost wish you had your book, but it’s stuffed in the back with the small bag you’d been allowed to bring. The others had small bags as well, and you can only imagine what is inside them. 
It makes your insides crawl with nerves. 
The exhaustion becomes too much as the naked trees and rolling hills continue to pass by outside the car. It’s quiet in the car, the tense silence not even enough to keep you awake as your head begins to droop onto Kyle’s shoulder. 
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You’re jolted awake as the car comes to a stop. 
The muffled sound of car doors closing outside reaches your ears as you peel your eyes open. 
“Come on.” Kyle says softly, gently shifting you with his shoulder. “Time to get up.” 
You let out a quiet grunt, rubbing your eyes. The world outside is full of grey sky and naked tree limbs from the angle you’re at. John and Simon’s doors slam as they exit the car, the warmth on your other side disappearing as Johnny gets out as well. Gravel crunches outside as Kyle opens his door, easing you so you’re sitting upright. 
The SUV is parked facing another one, and the world behind it opens into more green fields. Kyle slides out of the car, hitting gravel before offering you a hand. You blink the sleep from your eyes, taking the offered hand. 
There��s three other SUVs parked in the gravel, people dressed in plain clothes moving around an old, rickety barn. John is standing halfway between the car and the barn, conversing with Kate. You blink in surprise. You haven’t seen her since she dropped you off with your pack almost a year ago now.
Whatever they’re discussing, it seems to be serious. 
Kyle puts a hand on your back, leading you towards them. 
“Hi honey,” Kate greets you with a small smile, the seriousness melting on her face in almost a performative manner. “How are you holding up?” 
“I don’t know.” You say, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Depends on why I’m here.” 
“You didn’t tell her?” Kate says in surprise, turning back towards John. 
“I knew what she’d say if I told her.” John says. 
You purse your lips again, disliking being talked about as if you’re not standing right there.
Kate looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t, instead she takes half a step back. “Better get this over with, then.” 
John turns towards you, wrapping a hand around your wrist. “Come on.” 
You almost dig your heels in and demand he tell you, but you don’t. You have a feeling you’re about to find out regardless as he leads you towards the barn. Simon and Johnny are waiting by the doors, Kyle following close behind you. Nerves are starting to flutter in your stomach, your insides twisting in fear. What the hell is on the other side of those doors and why does everyone seem so serious about it? 
Johnny’s face is hard set, Simon’s eyes blank as John pauses in front of the door for a moment. 
They’re not themselves. 
You’re looking at Task Force 141. 
Simon slides the barn door open, your stomach clenching painfully. It’s dark in the barn, but not dark enough you can’t see. Grey light seeps in through holes in the roof and sides, giving the barn an eerie look, like you’re about to step into a horror movie. 
John’s hand tightens around your wrist, tugging you forward into the musty air inside the barn. You want to dig your heels in now, fight him and scream not to drag you inside. Your hand is shaking, curling in on itself until your nails dig into your palm. 
“Hi darlin’. Didn’t know you’d be joining us too.” 
You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut, the breath leaving your lungs. 
“Phil.” You breathe, nearly choking around his name. 
He’s seated in the middle of the barn, restrained in a chair. He looks far too comfortable and casual sitting there, greeting you like he would an old friend. 
There’s a table beside him filled with all sorts of instruments. Knives, scalpels, an ice pick. 
Your stomach twists as you realize what’s about to happen. 
The other four approach Phil, leaving a gap so you can see him as you linger behind. You have half a mind to turn and run out the now closed door, but something keeps your feet frozen to the ground. 
“You’re wasting your time.” Phil says, addressing the four members of your pack now. “I don’t know where Shepherd is.” 
“That’s not why we’re here.” John says, his voice deeper and rougher than it had been just outside. “You tortured a member of our pack.”
“Our omega.” Johnny says through gritted teeth. 
“Oh I see, a little revenge then.” Phil says, a smirk lifting on his lips as he stares at you. “And you brought a little audience.” 
***Content Warning: Torture ***
You jump as Simon takes a step forward, rearing back before punching Phil across the face. His head snaps to the side from the force of it, a grunt leaving his lips. Simon grips his chin, yanking his head back to the other side so Phil is looking up at him. 
“We’re going to do the same to you that you did to her.” He growls out. 
The words have a shiver tickling down your spine. 
Simon releases Phil before drawing his fist back to throw another punch. Nausea churns in your stomach as something cracks, the sound echoing in the silence. 
“Solid hit, big man.” Phil grins, spitting onto the floor before sitting up straight again. “You’re going to have to hit me harder than that.” His eyes flicker to you as you stand there in shock. “You can ask your omega how hard I hit her.” 
Johnny surges forward, wrapping his hand around Phil’s throat. “Give me a knife. I’ll cut his tongue out.” 
Phil lets out a choked sound, your own throat constricting a bit from the memory of Phil’s hand choking you. Tears fill your eyes as Phil’s face begins to go purple from the lack of oxygen. 
“Easy.” John says, easing Johnny off of Phil. “We’re not done yet.” 
Phil lets out a choking cough, his hands straining where they’re tied to the arms of the chair. “Not bad.” He coughs out, his face still red. “Gonna have to try harder than that.” 
John punches him in the face, sending his head snapping the other direction. Blood trickles from his lip, his tongue darting out to lick the wound. 
“Of course the alpha would spill the first drop of blood.” Phil says, letting out a chuckle, his gaze returning to you. “This is going to take a while, sweetheart. Why don’t you go back outside and wait for your boys to be done, hm?” 
“No.” John says, his hand closing into a fist again. “She’s going to watch every last bit of this.” 
Your stomach churns as he throws another punch at Phil, this one landing with another sickening crack. You don’t really want to watch this, but at the same time, there’s a sick sense of satisfaction filling you as your pack takes revenge on your behalf. Your omega is nearly purring, watching in glee as they drive punch after punch into Phil’s face. 
“You’re going to have to try harder than that.” Phil chokes out around Simon’s hand where it’s wrapped around his throat. 
“We’re just getting started.” Kyle says, grabbing a knife from the table. 
Phil lets out a pained yell as Kyle stabs the knife into his bicep, slowly dragging it down his arm. It’s deeper than Phil had cut you, blood pouring out of the open wound. Your stomach twists, nausea bubbling up into your throat. How easy this all seems for them. 
How easily Phil had tortured you. 
Your fingers trace the thin, pink line down your own arm, your skin burning with a reminder of what happened to you. 
The realization of what’s happening settles in as Kyle drives the knife into Phil’s chest, dragging it downward in another deep cut. You do want to turn around and go outside. You don’t want to watch this anymore. 
The soft call of your name has you coming back to yourself. Your pack has turned to face you now. You hadn’t even realized that you had turned your head away. Tears have trailed down your cheeks, your breath hitching. 
It’s John that’s called your name, his hand outstretched. He’s holding the ice pick. Your shoulder throbs at the sight of it. The memory of one almost exactly like it being stabbed into your scent gland has a whimper leaving your lips. You know what he’s asking, what he’s offering. Phil inflicted the worst pain you’ve ever felt onto you. Now you’re being offered the chance to do the same to him. 
Your omega is screaming, yelling at you to take it, to return what he did back to him. It’s his fault this happened. Weeks of pain and agony that you will always remember. He did that to you. 
You’re moving before you even realize it, your fingers wrapping around the cold metal. Your omega is taking over again, driving that instinctual violence forward again. Simon is standing behind Phil, holding his head to the side. He looks like shit, his face already bruising and covered in blood. The metallic scent of it is strong, your mind flickering back to those soldiers, his soldiers, the ones you killed with that knife. You wonder what happened to it, if it’s still laying out in the forest, the last lingering remnant of the violence that happened there. 
You stare down at Phil, at his exposed neck. He’s jerking against Simon’s hold, as if he knows and understands what’s about to happen, as if he can already sense the pain that’s about to be brought on him. Does he? Does he really understand? 
He’s about to. 
Your hand moves before you can stop it, driving the ice pick as hard as you can into his scent gland. He lets out a yowl of pain as the metal slides under his skin and into that sensitive spot. You remember it, the lightning-like pain rushing through your body, every nerve-ending on fire, every movement agony for days and days and days. 
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” You say, pushing the ice pick as far as you possibly can into his body. “It’s the worst pain I’ve ever felt. Worse than all those years I sat in that institute thinking about my family, the family you helped tear me away from.” You take a step back, leaving the ice pick in his shoulder. “You’ll never forget it, that kind of pain.” 
Simon wraps his hand around the ice pick, pulling it free. Blood seeps out of the hole, pouring down Phil’s chest. He jerks in his restraints, his eyes squeezed shut. 
“You deserve to feel that kind of pain.” You say, taking another step back. 
“Look at you.” Phil laughs, tilting his head up with a wince. His eyes are on you, focused solely on you as you stand there. “Tough little thing. Turning more and more like your father, aren’t you?” His words bite at the back of your brain, your omega screaming at the insult. His eyes leave you, instead roaming over the three members of your pack standing in front of him. “No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t hide her away from this world, could you?” 
He’s not talking to you anymore. 
“You’d always leave a stain on her. Eventually it would come around. She’d get caught up in a life like this, a life of violence and bloodshed. Proud of yourselves?” He lets out a chuckle. “You ruined such sweet innocence.” 
“Shut yer fuckin’ mouth.” Johnny growls as Simon moves back around so he’s standing next to you. 
“Ooh, hit a nerve did I?” Phil laughs, turning his gaze to you. “You know your dad never checked you made it to the institute? As soon as you were out of his sight he could finally stop caring about you.” Phil licks his lips. “I should have just taken you right then. No one would have known the difference. None of this would have happened. You’d still be just a sweet little innocent girl, just like you always should have been.” 
Anger and rage burns through you at his words. Years of repressed fears and emotions surging out all at once. Later you’ll wish you could blame it on your omega, that she took over in this moment, but that’s not the case. It’s you in your true form, in your own rage at Phil for his words, for his actions, for the ways he’s ruined your life even still years later. 
Time slows as your fingers wrap around the knife strapped to Simon’s side. It slides out of its sheath easily, your body moving forward as you grip it tightly in your hand. It won’t be the first time, your brain flashing back to all of those men, men who would have done worse things to you had your omega not acted on instinct. She’s screaming at you now, still, clawing at the poorly constructed cage you’ve forced her back in, calling for violence. 
You’ll give it to her. 
The knife cuts through his skin easily, sliding downward as you stab it into his neck. Blood spurts out, coating your hands in the slippery liquid. Adrenaline courses through your body, your vision going red as you yank the knife from his throat, blood spraying out of his artery from where you’ve severed it. It’s like some gruesome renaissance painting as you’re pulled back, an arm around your waist tugging you backward away from the quickly fading body in the chair, your mouth still open in an enraged scream. 
The knife drops from your hand as you’re tugged backwards, your body falling against a solid one. Your legs feel like jelly as the adrenaline pumps through your system, your blood covered hands shaking as you stare at the lifeless body of a man you once thought of as a family friend. A man who played such an integral part in your life behind the scenes. A man who was almost your alpha, a man who would have been your alpha had it not been for the woman standing outside. 
The man who tortured you and brought you more pain than you’ve ever felt in your entire life. 
He’s dead now. He can’t ever hurt you again. 
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Nausea churns in your stomach as you sit there, staring down at your blood-soaked hands. It’s deep red and sticking to your skin, no matter how much Kyle tries to wipe at it with a t-shirt. Your body has gone numb as reality has settled in. 
You just killed a man. 
“Easy.” Kyle says, his hand warm against your chilled skin as he wraps his fingers around your arm. 
You’d jerked away from him, nearly slipping off the edge of the trunk. The trunk of the SUV is open and you’re seated on the edge of it, toes pushing into the gravel below to hold yourself up. Kyle had been trying to wipe the dried blood off of your hands, but no matter how hard he scrubbed, some of it wouldn’t come off. 
“Here.” Footsteps approach in the gravel, the rocks crunching under boots. “Go help Simon.” 
Rougher hands replace Kyle’s, wrapping around your wrists. You jump when the cold water hits your hands, shocking you out of your dazed state. You lift your gaze up to John’s face as he wipes the blood from your hands, the shirt quickly becoming stained with red streaks. 
“This wasn’t our intention. I just want you to know that.” He says, his gaze focused on your hands. “We didn’t bring you here to kill him. I just thought you might want to know what was going to happen to him. Closure. Maybe you could rest easier knowing he wasn’t ever going to see freedom again.” 
“He won’t see anything ever again.” You murmur. 
“It doesn’t make you a bad person. Heat of the moment. He was saying some vile things to you.” John tries to comfort you. 
“But that doesn’t mean I had to kill him.” 
“Maybe not. He wouldn’t have lived much longer regardless.” Your hands are starting to feel raw with how hard John is scrubbing them. It’s almost like he’s trying to wipe the fact you’re a murderer from your hands. “None of us will think any less of you for what you did.” 
You stare down at your hands as John finally relents his scrubbing. The blood is gone, but you’ll always remember the look of it staining your skin. “I’m sorry.” 
John squats down in front of you, his hands closing around yours. They’re so warm compared to your own chilled skin. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 
“But I do. Phil was right. I’m not innocent anymore. I’m not a good omega. I lost that when I let her take over.” Tears slip down your cheeks, warm against your skin. 
“That doesn’t make you a bad omega.” John says, reaching up to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “You’ve done what you had to do to survive because of our failures. We failed to protect you like we promised and we forced you into situations you shouldn’t have ever been in. We will never be able to apologize enough for what we did.” 
“I’m scared, John.” You whisper. “I don’t want to be like this anymore.” 
His brows furrow. “Be like what?” 
“I still feel like she’s in control.” You say, more tears sliding down your cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve come back to myself at all.” 
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Tears still sting your eyes as you sit in the back of the car, watching the flames through the rearview mirror. 
“Unfortunate that the old barn burned down.” Kate says, her voice slightly muffled through the closed car door. 
“Feel sorry for the poor soul stuck inside.” John says. 
“Too bad they’ll never be identified.” 
Their words nearly make you sick again. How easily they talk about it, how easily they can detach themselves. It is their job, you suppose. This is just a normal occurrence to them. It scares you, how easily they confront death and dismiss it. It’s cold and unwelcoming, just like their attitudes had been upon your arrival. You should have known just by that. You should have turned and left when you wanted to. 
Maybe then you’d have less blood on your hands. 
Phil did deserve it, after everything. At least this way you know he won’t try to find you again, won’t try and get revenge of his own against your pack. One less loose string to worry about, John had said. 
There’s just one more that needs to be tied off. 
“Any sign of Shepherd?” John asks. 
“None yet.” Kate answers. “Alex and Farah are investigating a couple of leads. You’ll be the first to know if they find anything.” 
“Good. The sooner we can find him, the better.” 
“He can’t hide forever.” Kate says. “We’ll find him eventually.” She glances towards the car. “You’ll be alright?” 
John is quiet for a moment. “Eventually.” 
“You need anything...” 
“We’ll be sure to let you know.” 
Cold air rushes in with the smell of smoke as Kyle opens the car door. He slides in, quickly closing it. 
“We’re almost ready to go.” He says, shifting so he can put your seatbelt on for you. You’re glad he’s doing it. You’re not sure you could have managed it anyway. “Another long flight back to England.” 
You feel like you’ve spent more time on a plane in the last few hours than you have in your lifetime. You’re not even sure what day it is, or what day it will be when you get back. A week could have passed and you’d never even notice. 
“We’ll stop and get food before we go.” Kyle continues. You know he’s trying to talk to keep you distracted. “Anything you want in particular?” 
Food is the last thing you want right now. 
“Something we can eat on the road I suppose. Don’t want to linger too long anywhere.” Kyle trails off as the doors open, Johnny and Simon climbing in. It’s a tighter squeeze this time thanks to John’s coat that he put on you to keep you warm. You don’t really need it in the car, but his scent is the only thing keeping you sane right now. 
“Ye doin’ alright?” Johnny asks as he puts on his own seatbelt. 
You hum in response, not trusting yourself to answer. You don’t trust yourself to say much of anything right now. 
The smell of smoke hits your nose again as John opens the driver’s side door, climbing into the car. “Let’s get out of here.” He says, putting on his seatbelt before the car rumbles to life. 
You lean back in the seat, staring at the smoldering ashes in the rearview mirror until they disappear around a bend as John drives away from the scene. Warm fingers brush the back of your hand, Kyle’s gaze down on your lap as he slowly curls his fingers around your hand. You stare at his hand for a moment before you look away, curling your fingers around his. 
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You don’t remember much of the flight back. You slept through a good part of it, reclined in a seat just like Johnny had been on the flight to America. You barely remember the drive back to the cottage, spending most of it in a sleepy daze with your head propped on Kyle’s shoulder. 
Dr. Keller is there to greet you when you return, some delicious smell wafting from the open door of the cottage. It makes your stomach churn after hours of no food. You haven’t had much of an appetite, the memories of what had happened too fresh to allow you much else but the blissful ignorance of sleep. 
You drag your feet up the steps of the cottage, passing Dr. Keller in a haze as you head straight for the comfortable familiarity of your bed. You can hear quiet voices through the wall as you manage to work your heavy limbs out of your clothes and into something more comfortable. 
You just want to sleep more, sleep forever if it were possible. In sleep you don’t see the blood staining your hands, the spurt of blood from Phil’s neck where you’d stabbed him. You don’t see the light fading from his eyes, his body falling limp as he dies by your hand. In sleep you’re not a murderer, you can go back to when things were easier, when nothing mattered but being a good omega for your pack. Back when your only stress was making a good impression and doing your job like you’re supposed to. 
What a shitty omega you’ve become. You can’t even hold your pack together anymore. 
It’s not like they’re putting in much effort themselves, though. 
Maybe you should let things fall apart. Maybe it would be easier on everyone if you just moved past this, moved on to an unhappy, short life in a care facility while your pack got to live out the rest of their days with nothing but a painful memory of the short stint they got as a full pack. 
Phil was right. You’re not a sweet innocent little girl anymore. That person died as soon as you were forced into this pack. Maybe this was inevitable. By being forced with them you would always become like them. Good omegas learn to adapt to mesh well with their pack, giving up personality and wants in favor of making alphas happy. Maybe this is what they want, maybe this was the way things were always going to end up. You were doomed from the start to become just like them. 
You press your face into your pillow as tears slide down your cheeks, willing yourself to fall into the sweet embrace of sleep once again. 
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“John told me what happened.” Dr. Keller says as you sit outside in the cold morning air. “I just want you to know that it doesn’t make me think any less of you.” 
You wish she would. You wish she’d yell and reprimand you for killing someone. You wish any of them would call you a bad person, a wicked soul capable of taking the life of someone else. 
They’re all acting like it’s normal, like it was nothing. 
You hate it. 
“You’re not a bad person.” She says. 
“I killed someone.” You retort. 
“Did you?” 
Her words make you pause. You did. You remember the blood staining your hands, the warm spray of it from Phil’s neck. It was your hand that drove the knife. 
“I want you to walk me through what happened. Step by step.” She says. 
You let out a sigh. It’s not the first time you’ve been over it in the last day. “They were torturing him, but he wouldn’t stop talking. He said that he wished he had just taken me instead of sending me to the institute, and how that way I’d still be an innocent little girl.” Your voice starts to shake. “I got really mad. I barely remember grabbing the knife.” 
“Right there.” Dr. Keller interrupts you. “Walk me through that second by second. What were you feeling beyond just anger?” 
You pause for a moment, thinking it over. What were you feeling? “Blinding rage.” You say. “I was so angry because he helped ruin my life just because he wanted me.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Just the idea of being his...” Nausea churns in your stomach. “It’s like my brain went numb. It acted on instinct. I didn’t even know Simon had a knife until I was grabbing it.” 
“What was your omega feeling in those moments?” 
You pause to think again. You hadn’t taken into consideration your omega during your ruminations, when you’d told Dr. Keller your side of the events the last few times. “She was...angry too. But, at first, she liked it. She liked Phil being tortured. She wanted me to stab him with the ice pick.” You swallow thickly. “Why did I do that? Why didn’t I say no?” 
“Revenge is a fascinating part of human thought processes.” Dr. Keller says. “In the moment, it fires up those reward centers of the brain. It feels good, feels satisfying. The desire to act on those impulsive needs to dole out justice against someone that wronged you is natural. While it’s not the best idea, it’s just human nature to want to get revenge. In the heat of the moment, logic is the last thing on your mind. Throw in an uncontrolled omega and you may find yourself doing things you don’t want to do, and you don’t know why.” 
“So it was her fault.” You say, wiping your nose. 
“Not exactly. Instincts are complicated things to consider. Instincts don’t care about your feelings or what society considers acceptable. They’re natural, ingrained behaviors in response to certain stimuli and events. A bear chases you, you run. An alpha threatens you, your omega fights back. While yes, what you did may be morally questionable, in the moment, your omega didn’t care about morals or societal expectations. You felt threatened and uncomfortable and your omega acted on your behalf.” 
“It’s because she’s out of control.” You say. 
“Yes. You let her out of that specially crafted cage you learned to keep her in, and now she’s going to fight tooth and nail to stay out. You’re in a very delicate state and it’s not surprising your omega decided to act for you.” 
“She’s so violent.” You say quietly. 
“Omegas and alphas only show themselves for a handful of reasons. Usually those involve danger or extreme emotions. Omegas especially show themselves when violence is needed. We are all fighters at our core, even omegas. You yourself may not be a violent person, but your omega is unsettled. She’s on high alert and any perceived threat could set her off, or any moments of high emotions, such as witnessing what you did.” 
You look down at your hands, imagining them covered with blood again. “I wanted to leave. I should have.” 
“We can’t change what we’ve done in the past. Your omega was likely largely responsible for what happened in those moments. While that doesn’t absolve you of guilt entirely, that also means you weren’t fully in control of yourself when it happened.” She reaches out, putting a hand on yours. “I believe you when you say you didn’t want to do it. I don’t think you’re capable of it in your right mind. You’ve been through a lot over the last few weeks. I thought it was a bad idea to take you, but you know John.” 
“He thinks he knows what's best because it’s what he thinks is best.” You murmur. 
“You can confront him about that.” Dr. Keller says, leaning back in her chair. 
You snort. “That will go well.” 
“It might. Your pack has expressed their willingness to change, to adapt to what you want. You have the power to change your pack. If you don’t like the way they’re doing something, then tell them.” She gives you a pointed look. “They won’t know what to change if you don’t tell them what you want to change.” 
“I’m scared to ask them.” You admit. 
“Why? Why are you scared to ask them?” 
“Good omegas adapt to their pack, they don’t ask. They don’t ask their pack to change just for them.” 
She gives you another look. “Don’t go regressing that far on me.” She shifts in her seat, leaning closer to you. “We’ve talked about this before. You’re a part of this pack too, just as much as they are. You have a right to communicate your needs and your wants just as much as they do. You’re an equal in this pack, and they’ll be the first to agree with that. While their actions of late have been questionable, they do still care about you and want to make you a true equal in this pack.” 
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You huff. 
“Then let them show you.” She says. “What’s the harm in asking?” 
“They say no.” You say. “I don’t think I could handle it if they said no.” 
“But what if they say yes?” Dr. Keller squeezes your arm. “You’ll never know until you ask. In my professional opinion, I think you hold more power now than you realize. A lot of things happened to you, but a lot of things happened to your pack as well, and within those bonds.”
“Yeah. They’re all fractured now.” You say. 
“They’re in rough shape, but they’re not unfixable. You have to want to fix them. You’re the only one that can fix them.” 
“I don’t like that power.” You say. “Part of me wants to end things.” 
“But, that means there’s a part of you that wants to repair them. As your doctor, I suggest listening to those thoughts more than the ones telling you not to. It won’t be easy, but I think it’s worth your time to try.” 
Tears fill your eyes as you sit there, thinking over her words. You do want to try. You want to try so badly, yet you can’t help that nagging in the back of your mind that everything will go back to the way it was before. 
“What do you need?” Dr. Keller asks softly, brushing some of the hair from your face as you cry. 
What is it you need? A new brain, a reset button, some amnesia? All things you can’t have. You’ll have to choose with what you do have. What do you have? A pack that desperately wants to help you. They’ve told you that themselves. Kyle told you things would get better, but here you are with more blood staining your hands. Kyle wouldn’t lie to you. Not like that. 
You have the power now. 
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“Johnny.” You sniffle. “Get me Johnny.” 
NEXT ->
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spider-stark · 2 months ago
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EVERYTHING
Kaz Brekker x Reader
Summary - Kaz Brekker doesn't make any sense—and trying to understand him is getting to be exhausting.
Warnings - fem!reader, reader worked at a brothel, subtle hints at past abuse, some major dog / master symbolism idfk, mentions of blood/weapons, close proximity, could deviate some from canon, based more on book!kaz than show, NOT EDITED SO IF THERE'S A TYPO IDK
Word Count - 3.8k
!MINORS DNI!
// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //
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“Touch me.” 
You’ve only just slipped inside Kaz Brekker’s room at the Slat, and you’re convinced you’ve misheard him. The door’s still cracked, after all—and the mindless clamor of those playing cards down in the foyer is loud enough to play tricks on anyone’s ears. 
You push the door shut, habit making you click the lock into place before spinning around to face him. “Pardon?” 
The lanterns burn low, dim light chasing shadows across the spacious attic. Kaz stands over by his desk, leaning his weight against the edge in lieu of his cane. He’s dragging a gloved hand through his hair, looking uncharacteristically flustered. 
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me,” he snaps. 
Your laugh comes out breathy and awkward. “We both know I’m a shit actor, Brekker.” 
It’s why you’re never picked when the Dreg’s need a decoy—some girl to saddle up next to a sleazy merchant or another hapless mark, distracting them with batted lashes and a well-timed hand on their thigh. In Jesper’s words, you’re so socially inept that you’d probably blow the operation before it even got started.
To your dismay, Kaz doesn’t repeat himself. With his gaze carefully pinned to the tops of his black boots, he demands, “Why are you here?” 
Your brow quirks. “At the Slat?” 
“In my room.” 
The answer eludes you. Why did you come up here? It’s not like tonight was the first time Dirtyhands has ever skipped out on playing Blackjack with the rest of the group, and yet he’d caught your attention when he slipped from the foyer and went limping up the stairs. 
Then again, that’s not so surprising. Kaz always catches your eye, doesn’t he? 
In the year since you joined the Dregs, you’d earned an unfortunate nickname for yourself around the Barrel: The Bastard’s Pet. Wherever Kaz Brekker goes, you’re sure to be hot on his heels, following after him like a dog, loyal and clingy. 
You tell yourself it’s because that’s your job—to keep Kaz safe, to watch his six. But the devil’s got eyes in the back of his head, and you know Kaz Brekker doesn’t really need protection. 
So, it begs the question: Why are you here? In his room, at the Slat, as a member of the Dregs? Why does he keep you around? 
Unsure of the answer, you simply avoid giving one. 
“You should play games with them sometimes,” you tell him, giving a subtle nod over your shoulder. Their voices are muffled now, but you can still hear everyone downstairs exchanging jeers as they shuffle another round. “It makes you look like a recluse, always sneaking off to be by yourself.” 
Kaz drums one finger against the desk. It’s an erratic beat, following no set rhythm. “I am a recluse,” he grinds out. 
You almost snort. Clearly. 
It’s not like anyone joins a gang with the hopes of making friends—and none of the Dregs are dumb enough to think they’ll find a buddy in the infamous Dirtyhands, anyway. Still, you don’t think it’d kill him to try being a little more sociable. 
The others would like having him around. 
You like having him around. 
“I’ll ask one more time.” Dark eyes flick up, heavy as stones when they land on yours. Suddenly, the large attic feels awfully claustrophobic. “Why are you here?” 
A lie comes easily enough, slipping right through your teeth. 
“I got bored playing,” you tell him. “And Jesper’s cheating, anyway.” 
“They’re all cheating,” Kaz points out. 
“But Jesper’s bad at it,” you argue. Lifting a shoulder, you add, “It ruins the fun.” 
His finger falls still against the desk, ceasing its rhythmless beat. Warm light flickers all around him, dark shadows dancing over the harsh angles of his face. You watch his jaw tick, note the subtle curl of his upper lip. You’re overcome with the distinct feeling that you’re staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. 
Probably because you are. 
You’ve seen this face before. Been the one to clean the bloody mess left behind by whoever was unfortunate enough to find themselves on the receiving end of it. Now, as the one standing in the line of fire, you feel your stomach start to twist. 
You tell yourself it’s dread. Anxiety for what’s to come. 
“From where I was standing,” Kaz grinds out, his stare unflinching, “you looked to be having plenty of…” A sharp breath, his tongue gliding over pearly teeth. “Fun.” 
There’s something hidden in the word. A meaning that goes well beyond its dictionary definition. Is it a challenge? A dare, maybe? Or—perhaps the most unlikely of the options—some sort of plea? 
“And what is that supposed to mean?” you ask, finally daring a step closer, slowly drifting from the closed door. 
Kaz shakes his head. “It means what it means.” 
As you draw closer, he moves around the desk and takes a seat. He stretches his bad leg out in front of him, mindlessly rubbing a hand down toward his knee. It’s always bothering him by this point in the night. 
“Go back downstairs.” An order—not a suggestion. 
Across from him now, you place both palms on his desk. The smooth wood is cool against your skin, though the rest of you feels impossibly warm. It’s a side effect of standing too close to him, you think. The flushed cheeks and the vice around your lungs, always leaving your mind fuzzy and your pulse erratic. 
You hate him for it, sometimes. For the effect he has on you. 
“Why?”  you ask, riding out your little bold streak. “So you have a reason to gripe some more about me having fun?” 
“I’m not griping,” Kaz shoots back, very evidently griping. 
“Griping, carping, quibbling, or complaining—doesn’t matter how you word it, all of 'em fit you to a T right now, Brekker.” 
He’s not looking at you anymore, focused instead on the swirling patterns of the wood grain or the neat stack of papers or anything else that gives him an excuse to keep his head low. A month or so after you joined the Dregs, Kaz told you that you had a talent for getting under his skin. Maybe that’s why you don’t need to be able to see his face to know just how annoyed he looks. 
“Go downstairs.” 
“I will,” you vow. “After you explain what you meant.” 
Frustrated, he insists, “There’s nothing to explain.” 
“What did you say when I came in?” 
“Go downstairs.” 
You throw your hands up. “If you won’t tell me what you said, then at least explain why ‘fun’ is such a problem!” 
“Go. Down. Stairs.” 
“Make me.” 
Wood screeches, the chair flying back as he shoots to his feet. The stiffness in his leg makes the movement a little clumsy, and you don’t miss the subtlest flash of a wince before he leans against the desk. 
“Do you know why I brought you in?” 
For a moment, it’s all you can do to blink at him. Because, no—you don’t know why Kaz offered you a place with the Dregs. 
You’re not a sharpshooter like Jesper or a trained Grisha like Nina, not as smart as Wylan or as silent as Inej. You’re decent when it comes to sleight-of-hand and slightly above average with a blade, but even those skills are ones you’ve only learned since joining the gang. 
Back when you first met Kaz, you were nothing and no one. An unlucky girl roped into an indenture with Pekka Rollins, forced to work out of the Sweet Shop—the nastiest, most dangerous brothel in all of Ketterdam. 
“Because you’re secretly a big softie with a heart of gold?” You hope your sarcasm is enough to mask the twinge of shame brought on by your past. 
But Kaz is too good for that. Nothing gets past him—evident by the tiny wrinkle of concern that forms between his dark brows, instantly picking up on the faint dip in your tone. 
Fortunately for you, being observant doesn’t equate to being consoling, and so he doesn’t mention it. 
“Because you didn’t make me sick,” he answers, low and even. You’re not so sure if it’s an insult or compliment, and before you get a chance to ask, Kaz continues, “It was late. And raining. I’d just finished teaching a Razorgull lackey what happens when you breach parley. He was a real bleeder—made a mess of my suit. I ended up leaving him for Jesper to deal with. Thought I’d avoid eyes by sticking to the shadows, walking in the alleys behind the brothels.” Your eyes must be betraying you, because you almost think that’s a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “Imagine my surprise when a runaway harlot nearly knocked a helpless cripple like me off his feet.” 
You bite your cheek, still deciding if you want to slap him for calling you a harlot or laugh in his face. In spite of his limp and cane, Kaz Brekker is far from what you’d consider helpless. 
“So, what? You had me join the Dregs because I nearly bulldozed you in an alley?” That whole night was spotty for you, the panic you’d felt having rendered your memory foggy and incomplete. 
“Inej had told me about you,” Kaz says. “That Pekka Rollins got a new girl—an escape artist, always trying her luck at running away.” 
You didn’t know that, but maybe you should have. Inej isn’t the best spider in the Barrel without reason. She knows everything—and all she knows is reported directly to Kaz. Even so, you’re not sure you’re catching his point with all this. 
As if he can see you trying to mentally connect the dots, Kaz says, “Maybe I had another purpose in walking behind those brothels. Maybe I wanted to see just how quick on her feet Pekka Rollins’ escape artist was.” His head tilts slightly. “Or maybe I just didn’t want anyone to see me when I wasn’t looking my best. Either way, I left that alley knowing you’d be a part of my crew.” 
Your memory of that night may be spotty, but the one after is still crystal clear. A Suli spider had crawled through your window at the Sweet Shop, told you that Per Haskell was willing to pay a very hefty sum to buyout your indenture if you agreed to work for the Dregs. To this day, you’re still unsure of how Kaz managed to convince him you were worth it—or why he bothered. 
“You’re not making any sense, Brekker,” you admit, rubbing at your temple. A headache burrows there, seeming to grow worse with every minute. “Is that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then? Cause I’m… fast?” 
It sounds stupid. It is stupid. 
You’re no faster than anyone else—and you certainly hadn’t been fast enough to outrun Pekka Rollins’ goons. Everytime you made a run from the Sweet Shop, they dragged you right back, kicking and screaming the whole way. 
“No.” Kaz sighs. Drags a hand through his hair, tugging at the dark locks. “I wanted you-”
Kaz doesn’t finish that thought. 
A violent CRASH! steals your attention. Both of your heads snap toward the closed door, listening intently for any sign of danger.
Instead, you hear Jesper’s boisterous cackle chime. Wylan starts shouting about something indiscernible—vase, shattered, and moron among the words you catch.
A smile sneaks up on you. 
But, when you turn back to Kaz, it’s promptly wiped away. 
He looks like he’s had a lemon rind forced into his mouth, scowling at the door. “What’s going on with you and Van Eck?” 
You blink. “What?” 
“You heard me.” 
You did—but hearing him is a far stretch from understanding him, and it’s seemed like Kaz has been talking in circles since you came in. What’s Wylan have to do with any of this? 
“I don’t get what you’re asking.” 
“Stop making me repeat myself.” 
“Then stop being so confusing, Brekker!” you huff, crossing your arms. “I don’t understand-”
Kaz cuts you off with a look. Cold as death, he grinds out, “Are you fucking him?” 
Shock. Confusion. 
They course through you in equal measure, coupled with slight amusement. The latter must show on your face, because Kaz’s scowl deepens before he looks down at his desk, pretending to fiddle with something. 
“I have work to do,” he says stiffly. “Go downstairs.” 
Your feet stay firmly planted, the desk’s width all that separates the two of you. “Why would you think that?” 
Of all the assholes and degenerates in the Dregs, Wylan’s probably the closest you have to a real friend. It came with the territory—both of you having become newbies around the same time, trying to learn the ropes and fit in. 
You’re not fucking him, though. 
Kaz sinks back into his chair. His usually-squared shoulders curve slightly, as if some weight is pressing down on them. “Go downstairs.” 
“I thought you didn’t like repeating yourself?” you ask, almost taunting. 
“Go.” The word strains between his teeth. “Now.” 
For no good reason, you make a stand. Stare down the barrel of the gun, unafraid and unrelenting. How strange, you think. The tightness in your chest has never once been apprehension. 
It was excitement. Anticipation. 
You’ve always liked getting under his skin. Finding out what makes him tick, figuring out which words earn the sharpest glares. You want him to pull the trigger, if only because it means you have his attention—and like a dog waiting at its master’s feet, you could care less if it comes with an open hand or a closed fist. 
So long as it comes. So long as he notices you. 
“What did you say when I came in?” You uncross your arms, make yourself stand up tall. “Tell me.” 
Dark eyes shoot up. Kaz almost looks shocked, the dull echo of emotion creasing the lines of his face, parting his lips. You wait, but no sound comes out. 
Dirtyhands is used to giving orders. Not taking them. 
“You’ve heard what they say about me.” You wave a dismissive hand toward the shoddy window overlooking the Barrel. “Brekker’s Pet. Always with you, always following you around! Ask any sod in Ketterdam and they’ll say the same—the only way I’d have time to fuck someone is if you were in the room!” And even then, it wouldn’t be Wylan. 
A steel rod takes the place of Kaz’s spine, turning your words over in his head. “Fine. Maybe you haven’t,” he relents. “But you want to.” 
It’s a gamble. An unusually shitty one, at that. 
You blow out an exasperated breath. This whole thing is getting old. “Saints, Kaz. What’s your deal?” 
He opens his mouth. Shuts it. Then opens it again. 
“I saw you downstairs,” he says. “Touching Van Eck.” 
Your brows lift, fists clenching. You don’t know what you expected from him, but it certainly hadn’t been a bold-faced lie! 
But then you start thinking of the moments before you saw Kaz head upstairs, laughing and playing Blackjack before you folded your hand to follow after him. You’d been sitting cross-legged on the threadbare rug, wedged between Wylan and Raske, when you noticed—Shit. 
Kaz is right, and that makes you want to scream. Why is Kaz always right? 
It was after you noticed Jesper was cheating, that he’d poorly marked the deck with daub; a sticky, ash-colored substance. You’d leaned in close to point it out to Wylan—your hand against his forearm, your lips dangerously close to the Merchling’s ear. After he noticed the marks, you both exchanged quiet giggles over just how bad Jesper was at swindling. 
Still, there had been nothing sexual about it. Nothing between you and Wylan. 
But, even if there was, why would Kaz care? 
I saw you—touching Van Eck. His words race through your mind, pulsing in time with the dull ache in your temple. Touch me, touch me, touch me. 
All of a sudden, the fog begins to clear. Something in your memory clicks. 
That night behind the brothels—when you were running from the Sweet Shop, when Kaz had been drenched in the blood of some Razorgull. Barefoot and frantic, you really had almost knocked him off his feet. Gloved hands had held your arms tight, keeping you still. His hair had been messy and your mind a blur—and when you’d seen the crimson smeared across his cheek, you hadn’t thought twice before wiping it away. 
You’d done what so few have. You had touched Kaz Brekker, skin-on-skin. 
Because you didn’t make me sick. 
When you don’t speak, Kaz shifts in his chair. Straightens an already-neat stacks of papers. “You won’t try and deny it?” he asks. 
Maybe you imagine the quaver in his voice. Or maybe you don’t. 
Either way, you start around his desk. Your every step is slow—cautious. 
You stop beside him, and Kaz shifts again. You’re standing closer than you’d usually dare to get, so close that you can hear it when he swallows. 
“You should go downstairs,” he tells you, lower than before. 
Your head tilts, hair shifting over one shoulder. “Is that what you want?” 
His answer hides in silence so thick it’s a tangible presence. It curls around you, makes gooseflesh prickle along your skin. Your mouth feels dry, your stomach like it’s tied in knots. 
Suddenly, you don’t need him to repeat what he’d said. 
As always, Kaz was right—you'd heard him the first time. 
“Ask me again.” The words drip from your tongue, an order and a plea. “Ask me and I’ll do it.” 
Kaz gives you a look, one you’ve never seen before. Dark eyes rove over you, brimming with worry and stress and—and Saints, a sense of desire so strong it makes your toes curl in your boots, a feeling like lightning coursing up your spine. 
In a voice like stone on stone, raspy and urgent, Kaz breathes out, “Touch me.” 
So you do. 
You cup his face, graze your thumb over his cheekbone. Kaz stiffens, swallowing once more—but he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t try to pull away. 
“You know, to be such a bastard,” you start, a note of teasing in your voice, “you’re awfully pretty, Brekker.” 
Heat blooms against your palm, a deep blush crawling over his pale cheeks. 
“Shut up,” Kaz grumbles. 
You grin. “Want me to go downstairs?” 
A gasp rips from your throat as a gloved hand clamps around your wrist, Kaz pulling you down toward him. Anxiety still tightens his features, but beneath it he looks all too pleased with himself when you stumble clumsily into his lap. 
For the sake of comfort, you adjust your legs—careful for his bad one—and settle your arms over his shoulders. Then, when it fully settles that you’re straddling Kaz-fucking-Brekker, it gets a lot harder to breathe. 
“Should I take that as a no?” It sounds like a pant, your lungs constricting. 
He lifts the hem of your shirt, the feel of leather cool against your skin as Kaz jabs a finger into your side. “Do I always have to repeat myself around you?” he asks. Dark eyes dip past your jaw, his tongue gliding over his lips. You don’t think he actually cares to hear your answer, which is good—because you’re pretty sure you just forgot how to speak. 
Kaz drags his finger up the curve of your waist, his touch tentative and featherlight. It feels a lot like being studied—the way his dark brows knit together, staring at you as if you’re a magic trick he’s yet to master, a puzzle he hasn’t quite figured out. 
“It’s not because you’re fast,” he says, somewhat distracted. It takes a minute for you to realize that he’s referring to your earlier question—Is that why you wanted me for the Dregs, then? 
“Good,” you manage. “Because I’m not.” 
The slightest twitch of a smile. “No.” He takes his time tracing over every divet in your ribs, slowly trailing up, up, up. “You’re not.” 
“But I didn’t make you sick.” You’re not prepared for the wave of sickness that comes with the reminder, stomach roiling. 
The Bastard’s Pet. Is that truly all you are? All you’re worth to the Dregs? Useless at saddling up next to sleazy merchants, but good enough to curl up at Kaz Brekker’s feet. 
As if he can read your mind, Kaz’s hand goes still against your side. “Wipe that sour look off your face, would you? If I only wanted you to touch me, I would’ve just come to the Sweet Shop instead of getting my ass chewed by Haskell.”
You wiggle just enough to knock one knee into his hip, glaring at him. Both of you pretend not to notice the catch in his breath—or the growing hardness straining against his trousers, pressed against your core. 
Gruff, Kaz continues, “You were in an alley and saw a man dripping with blood, and your first thought was to reach out and clean his cheek.” His head shakes, a strand of coal-black hair swaying near his temple. “It was ignorant,” he tells you. “And… decent. Innocent.” 
You almost laugh. Innocent. That’s hardly a word you’d use to describe yourself. Especially right now, your every muscle straining in an attempt to keep your hips perfectly still, hands folded at the base of his neck. 
“I didn’t know innocence like that could survive in the Barrel.” His hand starts again, tracing little shapes against your side. “Even if you never touched me again, I wasn’t gonna let Pekka Rollin’s crush someone like you between his grimy little fingers.” 
“So that’s the answer?” you ask, nibbling on your lip. “I’m in the Dregs cause I’m innocent?” What a reason to have someone join a gang. Hey, you seem pure! Wanna get corrupted? 
“You’re in the Dregs because you know how to persevere,” Kaz answers, holding your gaze. “How to get up and try again, no matter how many times you’re knocked down.” The sensation of smooth leather drifts higher. “Because you’re a survivor.” Your eyelids flutter, sucking in a breath as he palms the plump curve of your breast. “Because you’re loyal,” he starts, and it’s almost reverent the way he almost whispers, “my perfect little pet.” 
The world grinds to a halt. 
Outside of this room—this moment—nothing exists. 
Too quiet, you ask, “What do you want from me, Kaz?” 
You want him to feel in control, to be the one that decides how this is gonna go. But your self-restraint is a fraying cord, mere seconds from snapping in half. 
If it were up to you, how far would you go? How much of Kaz Brekker would you explore? As far as I could, you think, desperate. As much as he’d let me. 
That’s the trouble with dogs. They’re loyal and clingy, forgiving and insistent. They want for everything and take whatever they’re given. They’ll spend hours begging at your feet. Lick scraps from the floor until their tongues begin to bleed. 
When it comes to Kaz Brekker, you’ll take whatever he has to give. 
And you’ll never stop begging for more, more, more. 
“Everything.” His breath is warm against your lips, the leather cool on your breast. “I want everything.”
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a/n - just in case anyone couldn't tell, i obviously just finished reading six of crows (yeah ik i'm very late to the party). i randomly started writing this while i was stuck in traffic and it just sort of spiraled over the past 24 hours and now here we are! this was born! idk if i'll get anymore kaz ideas, but it was fun writing something more dialogue heavy (dialogue has my heart<3)
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docdudo · 2 months ago
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Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 7)
You and Johnny were at a standstill. You woke up not long ago from your nap, still safely tucked to his side in the nest in an almost claustrophobic way. You were ready to just get up and leave this situation, but Johnny didn't really let you, actually still insisting on playing with you, which resulted in now.
Both of you were staring eachother. You were satting quietly against the nest border as Johnny laid hid big body across the nest easily, laid on his side as he smiled smugly at you, hand holding his head up, his other hand resting quietly near your little feet. If you tried scooting backwards, he would pull you back easily with just a small tug.
"Pup, come on, ya knae ya want to play a wee bit~" He almost singsongs, voice low and provocative...
Still a bit babyish too.
"Wanna play tag?" As you shake your head quietly, he crawls a bit closer, keeping his big body somehow lower than your sitting position. "No tag? I'll play nice, papa always play nice!" He smiles big, sharp and long teeth on display, making you tremble a little.
You still shake your head, embarrassed.
"Hide 'n seek?" He pouts exaggeratedly, long, fluffly ears pinned back on his head. It looked... kinda cute, but you still shook your head a little. "Come on, Lass.... It'll make ya good to move around a wee bit..."
"Don't wanna play..." Your murmur quietly, still pretty much shy around them.
Johnny lets out a little whimper at that, which immediatly startled you a bit at the high pitched sound.
"How about... just a walk around, yeah?" He suggests gently, only to immediatly sit up a bit, getting excited about his own idea. "Oh, yeah, yeah, let's go for a walk, wee pup! That way, you can get to knae the place around the house, aye?"
"If they are going for a walk outside, they need to be properly dressed." Kyle casually remarks as he comes inside the room out of nowhere, clothes in hand. "It's already getting dark, and the temperature is dropping. Price said that it's threatening to snow tomorrow." "Already??" Johnny growls slightly, and that immediatly makes you jump back a little on the nest. "Oh, nae, nae, it's okay, pup, i'm so sorry, wee pup, come 'ere." He changes tones quickly, leaning over you to coo gently as he paws the blanket tangled around you, pulling you closer.
"Unfortunately." Kyle huffs a little, wings shuffling behing his back, getting fluffly. "I though we would have more time."
Johnny hums, frowning as he considers what to do next, his hands holding you to his chest, even as you squirm a little.
"It's probably okay for a human, aye?"
"If they are properly dressed, yes. Come here, chick." You didn't have time to react as Kyle bend down and picked you up on his arms, the blanket still wrapped around you.
Johnny got up too, stretching like a real dog as he watched Kyle gently set you down on the carpet and pat your clothes, straightening the sweater and pants that got rustled after your nap.
"Give me your hand, chick." Kyle smiles easily, gently, grabbing your hand after you hesitantly lifted it. "John got good things, thank god. This gloves and hat feel very warm."
"It has to be, right? Weren't them in a store that caters to humans too?" Johnny kneeled down by you, watching faithfuly as Kyle gently put the thick wool gloves on your little hands.
"Yeah, but you know how it is. They say they cater to these less common races, but in the end it's just a marketing scheme." Kyle roll his eyes slightly, once again dropping out of the gentle persona he usually adopts when near you. "But these are fine, they feel thick and warm, the wool is good quality, the type that will isolate the heat nicely."
Kyle picked up the new thick jacket they got you at the store, quickly helping you into it, zipping it up tight over the sweater. It did feel warm, almost too warm to your already warm room.
"And here's your beanie, Lass!" Johnny smiled big, picking up the wool beanie and using one of his big hands to push your hair back flatly, your eyes squinting at the action as you feel the hat being placed expertly on your head. "Does it feel warm?"
You nod quietly, feeling a bit too wrapped up in your new clothes.
"Good! Let's put on your shoes and go outside, aye?"
It didn't take long for the three of you to be making your way downstairs, immediatly caughting Simon's attention as he frowned.
"You're leaving?" He asks gruffily, posture immediatly changing as he crossed his thick arms over his chest, still frowning.
"Aye, going outside with the lassie to exercise a little!" Johnny quickly smiled, nodding as his tail wagged behind him.
"It's late."
"It's like, 6:30 p.m." Johnny smiles back, rolling his eyes a little.
"It's cold outside."
"They're wrapped up." Kyle adds, smiling a bit too smugly.
Simon squinted his eyes a little more, annoyed, which only made the younger two laugh with a bit too much arrogance.
"Stop going all mama bear, Si, they're gonna be fineeeeeeee~" Johnny laughs, gently nudging you towards the front door.
Simon growls quietly at that, but cuts himself off almost immediatly as they see you weaken your steps.
"I just don't like the idea of having them outside at this hour and at this weather." He replies, voice heavy and low, almost growled out.
"It's not good for them to be cooped up inside all the time." Kyle points out, Johnny quickly nodding to agree with his mate.
Both harpies and werewolves are very active and outdoors' species. Contrary of Wraiths, obviously.
"Let them go, Simon. It's good for the kid to walk a little too." John raises his voice for the others to hear him from the kitchen.
Simon huffs, but his posture relax slightly. He glances at you, that is obediently still by the door, Johnny big presence pressed against your back as he still smiles smugly at Simon.
"Be careful, eyes on them all the time, don't start with your little games yet, this is a little human kid we are talking about." Simon speaks slowly, clearly holding back on a growl as his fingers started to let out small wisps of shadows.
"I knae, Si! What do ya take me for?? 'M nae dimwit!" Johnny huffs, rolling his eyes before he lets out a big grin right after. "I'm not play wrestling this wee baby yet, it's just a little walk!"
"God, I also want to let loose and fly a little..." Kyle huffs a bit, stratching his wings, tho quickly tucking them back when he saw you take a small step away in intimidation. "But I'll let that for later. I'll help John with dinner."
"Be back before dinner." Simon warns Johnny once again, that just throws a mock salute his way and steps out of the house, taking you with him.
"Right, mama bear! We'll be right back!"
"Don't compare myself to the likes of Nikolai." Simon huffs as he turns away from the now closed front door, going to the kitchen to both help the other two with dinner and to watch Johnny and you outside the kitchen window.
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blackbirdsblackberries · 4 months ago
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I Hate The New Hero!
Pt 3: How bad can a day get?
Tim gazes at you. He doesn’t know what to do or feel.
He hates you, he really does, but at the same time he kind of enjoyed the afternoon with you. If you put aside the arguments and such it was kind of fun being in your presence.
He’s conflicted, he should hate you – you’ve done bad things in the past and you hate Aranea! But, hanging out with you gives him some kind of weird feeling – euphoria fills him when you make a sarcastic comment in jest or when you chuckle at one of his jokes.
There were times you both fought but it felt nice to see you come back into the room and not just leave – his parents tended to leave for the whole night if they got into an argument and he’d have to stay in his estate alone.
He watches as you sleep peacefully, you’re in the lower age part of his class – with you being sixteen and he seventeen – yet you look so much more youthful while sleeping, your face isn’t in a scowl or bored look, you look content.
Tim slowly gets up from the bed and looks around the small, cramped room. It's easy for anyone to feel claustrophobic and it feels wrong for someone to live in it who acts like how you usually do.
His attention is drawn to the toy chest in one corner, curiosity fighting with respect to open it. One peak wouldn't hurt and surely you wouldn't find out.
He walks over, one of the floorboards creaking, it was only two steps but felt longer for him. He opens the chest. As he stares down at it's contents he's filled with disappointment.
In the chest there's only diaries, metal and engineering bits and pieces. He guesses he should have expected this, you're a civilian, you wouldn't be hiding anything to begin with.
His eye catches on a childish diary decorated in stickers and press on jewels. Before his mind can register what he's doing he picks it up and turns it over in his hands a couple times, examining it.
The date goes back twelve years. So you'd be about four at the time. There's nothing to hide so he opens it - a sneak peak never hurt anyone.
Diary entry 1:
Today I got this diary from my mama! I can decorate it however I want! Mama said it's my birthday gift, I wanted a stuffed toy but this works too! I don't want to disappoint my mama by saying I don't like it!
My neighbor, Susan, is helping me write this! I love her, she's very old and wrinkly and I think she is going to turn to dust. Which is sad.
Bye now!
The first thing Tim noticed was the messy handwriting. It was endearing in a way to see it. The next was the way you spoke about Susan. It was blunt but it seemed you liked her.
He goes to turn another page when he hears the front door of the apartment open and talking entering the once quiet apartment.
He quickly places the diary where it was before and he packs away everything. He debates putting you into the bed before deciding that you're fine.
He walks out and is immediately met with a plate smashing the wall next to him as a frazzled man stands in the kitchen, cowering almost. Tim puts his hands up slightly to show he's harmless and the man's stiff form eases slightly.
The man raises his hands and signs out a sentence.
"What are you doing in my apartment?"
Tim raises a brow, should he sign back or just talk? After some consideration he decides to sign back.
"Your child and I are partners on a project for school"
The man's eyes darken slightly at the mention of his daughter - or who Tim guesses was his child, they bare some resemblance.
"So my child is a slut like her mother then?"
Tim stares, jaw dropped. No fucking way he just said that. Tim shakes his head.
"No, of course not! We had to do a poster!" He states, he doesn't bother with the sign language, the man didn't seem to be deaf judging by the scar on his throat.
The man points to the door before signing.
"You better go right now before my wife punishes you! As it is my child is in trouble!"
Tim, not wanting to cause a fight or scandal, walks to the door and leaves. He wonders how your father is going to "punish you", clearly you had to have been spoiled by someone to end up so rude - even if you were fun to hang out with for those hours.
Tim gets to the front of the apartment and gets into the car waiting for him. One thought was one his mind however:
Are you as bad as they all assumed you to be?
----
You wake up the next day to your dad and mother standing above you angrily. Not a good way to start the day and you had to sort out your red eyes before people asked if you'd been crying.
Heading to school was as uneventful as Gotham gets and when you get to the front gate you realize your two friends aren't at school today. Great. Your day is the best!
You debate sneaking back home and going on a day patrol, maybe running into Signal, though you hope not. He's nice and all but he along with the other Batman lackeys and Batman himself give you bad vibes, they set off your spider senses and cause you to feel icky when in their presence.
Before you can make a decision you hear your name being called out and Tim walking up to you with a serious expression. You think you're going to barf - now that you think about it, Tim gives you the same reaction Red Robin gives you - a feeling of anger and motion sickness.
Each vigilante gives a different type of icky feeling so it's crazy you haven't noticed Tim giving you the same feeling.
It's not your business though so you won't think about it further.
"Did you bring the poster?" He asks, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks to you in slight annoyance. "Duh. It's in my bag." You respond, rolling your eyes and handing him the poster.
He hums and puts it in his bag and you raise a brow. You won't question why he did it, probably just wanted the credit of handing it in.
With that you head to your first class of the day: Engineering.
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1-49 · 2 months ago
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bare sugars
╰► that’s my baby, that’s my sugar, i don’t need no honey on the side . . . that’s unconditiona-nal.
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pairing: f!reader × jaehyun ⁝ tags: motel. lotta tension. jae likes to show skin lol. history i allude to but never explain sry. short scenario inspired by this teaser photo. diabetes keep away 5k
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It ’s a place in between places, on the outskirts of some sunbaked desert town. What began as a hopeful promise, somewhere in the chaos of the last seven days , has faded into obscurity.
When this road trip kicked off, the entire crew was pumped on the : ‘No one’s getting ditched; everyone ’s got to be part of ─── no matter how intense the next adventure gets.’ Yet, here you are , left behind with the one person you were hoping to dodge.
A velvety green sofa sets the scene & the honey glow of golden hour falls on wood - panelled walls ─── Lying on his back , Jaehyun rocks yet another one of his 250+ crumpled print tees, retro lettering in: ‘The Grateful Dead.’ Its fabric hiked up , intentionally or not , giving his casual style a little extra edge.
─── This specific old shade of blue denim jeans, those grey Calvins, the belt that struggles to keep the outfit together ... His belly that just kind of vacuums in whenever it wants ... A plush land really ... The faux freckles on his cheeks which mimic sunflower seeds, and his hair that shines like a field of gold ...
A babe , though the design guilt he wears in his dark eyes remains as you capture yet another moment with your camera.
The two shy cuties in his cheeks and his keys lying abandoned on the pink carpet. His languid binks & perpetually movey lips. His Converse’s loose laces.. The unhurried. The lazy. The slow...
It’s all captured on film & as you pull the camera away from your face, he still keeps an eye on you, not necessarily looking for a reaction but... 
Well, you better... drop that feedback, or things might...
take a turn for the worse... 
And—
And they do... with him tucking his hand under his head & his shirt riding up thoughtlessly even more...
And it’s bad. It’s—It’s like he’s in charge of how you feel and is directing the scene. Like as if he’s your television & there’s no turning him off.
This almost ever so present paradoxical quality to him—a blend of approachability and impenetrability that’s hard to elaborate. Or his lazy attractiveness which simply defies logic: for he’s simultaneously doing nothing and everything, drawing you in completely without lifting a finger.
Or... how these are just a few of the countless reasons why you’ve never asked him to bring you the horizon, or, hell, dared to dream about having him.
Of how the four walls and the door close on you and how looking at him strikes you with a funny fear, making you want to melt deep into the contents of the floor.
Oh, to fuck with that...
-
Gently, you adjust the fine black lace along the hem of your brown silk dress; draw in the fluffy cardigan tighter around you; and to escape the perfect features of his perfect face, you walk up to the window. 
Yet, no matter how hard you search for a way out, the four walls of this claustrophobic room offer little in the way of escape. You’re fucking stuck... Counting your fingers anew whenever gets nothing done, and flipping through the channels on the tiny TV does nothing to clear the monotony. The minutes drag on endlessly, and no matter how many board games you play or photos you take, the clock seems to mock you. Each moment drags as if the world has hit the pause button, leaving you with him in this quiet space.
“Uuggh, coome oooon!” You stomp your feet, looking out the window. “The losers promised they’d be back by six!”
Jaehyun blows a bubble that bursts with a loud snap, grinning at you. “Ummm—You realize promises aren’t really being kept here anymore, right?”
Yeah, right... Fuck promises! You told yourself you wouldn’t get attached to him but look at you now...
Rolling your eyes, you glance out the window again, right as he asks,
“Why? Are you hungry?”
And sure, they were supposed to be the ones bringing the food, but it seems their adventure has taken a detour into yet another town at the end of the world; said, ‘This is what happens when you skip out—So, you two sort it out.’
“Some sweets would be nice. But no, um,” you tensely pull at your cardigan’s sleeves, clenching the ends in your fists. “Are they okay? I’m a little nervous.”
Though all he does is just casually burst another ridiculous bubble...“I’m sure they’re fine.”
Right… So next you’re left to watch him scrape bits of pink gum from his lips, and before you know it, a wave of irritation pulls you back to his side.
You’re barely balanced on the edge of the sofa, aiding in his clumsy efforts. Your thumb brushes against his bottom lip, and the air around him gets to your head just instantly, thick with the sugary scent of the sticky residue that you find yourself obliged to help remove... It’s so sugary that it borders on being revolting! Or perhaps it’s your sweet tooth that’s igniting this feeling?
Silly, cause you feed into this quirky theory that butterflies taste like bubblegum, and now that notion takes on a funny twist, well... considering the butterflies dancing in your stomach.
As you pull your fingers away from his lips, a rush of blood roars in his ears and he quickly adds, “Might have something in my bag, let me see.”
And totally! The bag that somehow collected a ton of pendants during this road trip does sit by the sofa, and with Jaehyun lounging back, stretching his arms overhead to grab it, his shirt gets pulled up even higher, & just like that, it becomes the cause for another thing you wish you never said.
Definitely not the sight you were hoping for... The tee hiked up, way above his ribs, exposing a good portion of his slim waist as he giggles, showing off that boyish grin while rummaging through the bag behind... still looking at you.
The eye contact ****
The fcking gum that just so erratically becomes his plaything, getting relentlessly crushed beneath the pressure of his teeth, repeatedly transforming into a sticky mass that fills his mouth, stressing the rugged contours of his strong jawline...
His fucking belly...
The happy trail...
Godsent personal hell!
Your heart is thumping away in your chest and your ribs aren’t exactly doing much to protect it. The stressed thing seems ready to pop like one of his balloons and leave you in an ever-sticker mess...
“Mmmmm...” he hums, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth and pulling a handful of candies from the bag behind him. “Let’s see what we have.”
Placing each treat onto his stomach as if the world were about to erupt in a frenzy of sugar-fueled chaos, Jaehyun carefully begins to arrange each piece, making sure they’re spaced out just right and sorted into rational portions in case such an outbreak actually happens. In no time, a vibrant array of treats sprawls across him and his funky-ridden shirt, everything from lollipops, chewy gums, gummy bears, and sour candies, to little chocolates.
Imagine a carnival! The flashy colors are super distracting, and those chocolate bars are practically begging you to grab them. Still, you can’t help but tease him a bit to annoy him, specially since you’ve been going back & forth for the past three days.
“Really,” you pout cynically, “You took this many?? You’re such a…”
With a burst of laughter that is hearty & sweet, Jaehyun sends the poor candies resting on the very sides of his waist to tumble down onto the sofa as if that earthquake had REALLY made its presence felt.
“Mmmmm- Why would I want to spend money on fancy treats? Besides...” He spaces out for a bit... then remarks with a smirk, “My theory is basically sweets are sweets.”
And he tightens his lips to seem all serious, but honestly, it just makes everything worse. The dude doesn’t even lift a finger to be funny; it’s like humour just radically appears around him, and the stuff he comes up with...
Poof! A total goof or a creative thinker? It really just comes down to your mood at the time.
You grimace once more, shaking your head at him, and subtly shift your weight to your legs rather than sitting on the sofa, your body ready to leap away at the slightest hint of contact.
With an adorable, surprised expression his eyes grow round as he stares at you, “What!?” His brows shoot up too in effort to justify himself.
“That piñata was there for everyone to go wild and, umm- grab whatever they could!” Lifting his hands defensively, he pouts, “Not my fault!”
Aaaand that fucking shirt of his?
Isss at it againnnn!@#£%^*
Your mind is reeling as the candy mountain spills over in a fun avalanche.
No, because why go through all that trouble to arrange them perfectly just to wreck it himself!?
Yeah,
anyway, you find nothing to match that, indeed it was up to anyone to snatch whatever they wanted, it just looks like he had deeper pockets than the rest of you idiots to stash all that stuff, that’s all there is to it. So you give in to the urge to ‘screw it,’ let out another eye roll, and grab a tiny bag of gummy bears.
-
As if he’s achieved something, Jaehyun’s hands find their way back beneath his head, and the flirtatious smile continues in his eyes. He just basks in the moment until your frustration—the sting of yet another cheeky defeat—causes you to fumble to open the bag and so all the gummy bears go flying everywhere. 
Add chaos?
Check!
Is he into it? 
Also, check.
The pack is but what that piñata was a few days ago, bleeding in beautiful colors and gushing all things sweet.
“Ugghhh!!” Tossing your head back, you groan dramatically.
And understandably so!!! While Jaehyun?
He beams as he sticks his tongue in his cheek, and snatches the empty bag from your hands. He casually spits his spent pink gum inside it, takes a pair of gummies from his abs, and gently runs them against his lips before sliding them in...
And t
And it’s so fucking frustrating that this guy has no clue about the importance of breaking eye contact! You’re always left searching for a word that’s stronger than ‘insufferable,’ but really, the dude just constantly goes all out with everything. Legit! 
It drives you crazy. He—
Munching on them playfully, Jaehyun thinks for a moment, swallows, & then quirks an eyebrow, smirking,
“Wanna hear what the gummies just whispered into my mouth?”
What the gummies have what??
You shake your head at his nonsense but arch a brow back. Because if you had to be honest, those jelly babies aren’t the only thing looking to spill some secrets in his mouth... So, yeah, you’re JUST listening! As a matter of fact, you’re all tuned in to catch what absurdity he’s about to dish out next.
Pushing his lips together, a bratty shape that just begs to be kissed, he sits with his answer. There’s something very precious and terribly frustrating about how he keeps his responses close like they’re the best puns ever. Then he eventually smiles, “Thank you for releasing us.”
........ Woaah, they’ve at least been honest with him! Which is... cool...
Cool! Great! Awesome! You next!
“Mmm-hmm,” for dummies, some skeptical eyes and a cynical head nod are all you have...
When the magnitude of his languid x menacing should be studied!!!
Really, a quirky cotton candy man! A sugar. A delicate toxic substance.
Like, fuck! He—He’s just- unbeatable. 
That’s an overwhelming amount of power for him to have... Like, that’s too much hot... Too much sweet… It’s no good… 
Like-
Like the doses got all jacked up when he was made... Accidentally spilled too much of each, and now he’s just a walking health risk.
Catch it!
-
The disease spreads just like it always has—quickly and definitely. This earthtone babe just knows exactly how to get under your skin.
So hard to resist... So hard to not take a bite...
It’s just how it goes, you know?
Things...
Eyes...
Fingers...
& before you realise it, your fingertips glide past his jeans, over to his skin, igniting a rush of sensations with each line you draw across his abs.
Inevitably, the air gets charged with an energy... that’s not innocent. You feel the sparks. Not the good kind of sparks, but the sinful ones... The—
-
It’s like a dream at first, experiencing the thrill of someone yearning for your touch so badly.
Jae is every bit as tough as he looks, but the moment your fingers brush against him, that narrative shifts entirely. It feels like he’s been craving your touch, and those days without it have been an unbearable! fucking! stretch!
Gentle, sensual skin, a supremely royal shade of luxury milk. Everything that’s connected with a beautiful sweet, sweet & touching is associated with him. 
He’s just spot on! And your stomach is growling. And you’re looking for a bite to eat...
In fact, you’re so down bad, your sweet tooth’s at an all-time high; honestly, you’d probably go as far as to start licking him right now.
In a straight line? Curved? In any manner that sparks your creativity? Anything real—
...The hot transference from his skin onto your hand? The way he teases his lip!?? The way he shyly and discreetly raises his hips against your touch as if silently pleading for
Thisss baddieee!!
Reading into all these crazy action bits has you all jittery that you completely jump when his hand lands on your bare thigh, right at the lace border.
nononono-
With a gulp, you instantly! rise from the couch. How—Just why did you end up falling back so e
-
Fast, desperation kicks in- just- again like those moments ago... and you’re back to pacing this same motel room, seeking an escape from him. Except every aspect now feels as if it’s been cranked up to ten times the difficulty.
The reddish-brown timber panels on the walls give off tough prison steel, and the pink carpet feels all squishy and weird under your bare feet right when you need a stable solid... All while Jaehyun is- just- there... planted in place, now seated, legs all spread, on the green sofa. There’s really nothing you can do but hope he stays right where he is. 
But! once something’s set in motion, it stays in motion. Like a wildfire racing thru dry lands, fierce and unstoppable. And you just happened to let a match slip past your fingers a heartbeat ago, screwing everything up...
Naturally, he gets up. Also, that belt of his really accomplishes nothing... it’s just there to be there, so he’s just got to pull up his baggy jeans himself before he can even take a step forward.
& what his rising does is kick off a frantic chase as you two whirl around the room in a relentless spiral, & he’s hot on your tail... The very thought of him catching up on you sends dopamine through your veins, making your pulse quicken.
Plus that stunning smile? Plus his unconditional happiness? Well, both make him even more irresistible but both also complicate things for you. The excitement mounts as he approaches in the chase, each heartbeat making the thrill even stronger; that once he abruptly stops, the sprinting exertion takes its toll.
His breath comes in heavier gasps, his cheeks are flushed with a pinch of peach, and his bangs are a tousled mess, dancing around him like dandelion fluff does in the wind. Just a pure, natural and effortless elegance. He’s so incredibly attractive it almost hurts to look at him.
The tension though peaks as his words build to a sharp climax of a fact.
“You-um- You’ve been avoiding me this whole trip.”
...That sinking feeling in your heart like a rock just hit it? Yeah...
Yeah, you wish that voice of his didn’t resonate through your very being, scraping against every nerve ending, but that’s what it always does. It freezes you in place, making you overwhelmed and powerless. 
It’s kind of wild how bringing up a heavy topic during a playful moment can make it feel that much more sincere. With so many choices, he went right for the thing that drives him crazy, and that should show you what’s on his mind... at least-
But, you-you
Instinctively, you pull the same fuzzy cardigan around you, clinging to it as though it were a barrier against him, and softly slide your hand from your sleeve, unveiling a lollipop—the only item you managed to pocket earlier.
And this should sweep everything away, right?
-
“Mhmmmm,” Jaehyun hums, back on trend —
acting like he didn’t just mention something that could spark a whole conversation...
— though this time he picks up the bat resting by the bedstand which at the beginning of the week tore through that heart piñata...
And currently, with the sun set, the moon in the sky, and the desert sky glowing a delicate lilac blue, his eyes narrow and his sly grin comes in the same old style as he twists the knob of the yellow lamp, teasing, “So... a thief, huh?” 
...It’s as if he’s putting you in the spotlight, pointing out your crime, and calling you out for being a naughty girl.
& sure, he’s got you in that tight spot he wants you in, okay? But you still tilt your head and nibble on your lip, still going at it, “Maaybee.”
-
& as you start to walk backwards, everything is still beside your breath and the gentle thud of the bat as he taps it against different surfaces. Only muted noise of what seems to be Spanish drifts in from the neighboring room, but neither of you pays it much mind.
His hands fist around the bat tightly, consumed with angry adrenaline, & veins bulge along his smooth skin, sending filthy pulses up his arms. 
It’s a sight that attracts goosebumps all along & across your skin, igniting a warmth that curls from your legs to your belly. The same very electrifying rush of adrenaline wraps around you as if he’s pulling you into the grip of that wooden bat... 
Hiss, twist, loosen, and turn, just like how his hands manipulate that wood...
And you know... it doesn’t take much to find yourself backed up against that mahogany wall.
At once, ‘trapped’ takes on an even greater weight than what it meant before. You feel twisted and turned in advance, completely taken apart by the sheer passion in his deep brown eyes.
Jaehyun lifts a brow. He’s all about this vibe. That big toothy smile of his. The way he’s locked in on you. The ‘Just a couple of steps away, baby.’
Uh-huh, but what about that horrible, horrible crave you’ve told yourself you CAN’T have!??
The itch sits on your tongue, fruity in flavour—perhaps strawberry or raspberry—you aren’t sure. A tang that lingers in your memory, the same as of candy gum that had been in the air around him earlier and one which grew bolder with each step he took toward you. This sickness makes you wish that your tongue is already wrapped in his, tightening for a deeper inspection. 
Yikes! Please, let’s just avoid that!
-
To drive away the feeling, you look down to your toes in the cotton carpet, shift your weight, and then peel away the wrapper of the lemon lolly, seeking a bitter flavor to replace the trace of his scent.
Then eventually, accept the proximity between you two as it is - as you let your back land against the wall, hoping the tension will melt away. 
Feeling the lolly along your lips, you grimace at the acid but take it...
And as you look down, even in your peripheral view, it’s clear that Jaehyun is still watching you, & you realize he’s focused on your mouth. & after giving the lollipop a couple of spins on your tongue, you proudly look up, thinking you’re good and that you’ve totally neutralized the crave for him...
-
Because the suddenly too sure of itself face?
Your neck, your collars, the hard candy prodding at your cheek?
The sleek brown silk and the intricate black lace trim which ascends higher on your thigh as you shift your weight to one leg, elegantly placing the other in front as you find your stance? And then the glossy black polish on your toenails as you draw them from a point in the carpet, just barely hovering above it, & in a straight line with him... As in ???
Yeah, absolutely not; that’s far from a quiet invite...
No! You’re totally not just ‘asking for it.’
On the spur, the dynamics shift... As you let the lemon hang in your mouth, Jaehyun abruptly brings his bat up & uses it to delicately move a piece of your hair aside, and then the very tip of the bat makes a gentle tap at the heart of your collars.
Your breath catches in your throat, a fragile spectacle he zeroes in on as your cords constrict, and then, with knitted brows you swallow in the sour juice of the sucker. 
Really!?? What more does he want of your sorry soul when you’re just trying to get through each breath?
But no! You certainly didn’t ask for it… Just remember he’s not one to give up when told to quit. So, either pack your things or choose a better design, Sugar.
Though that’s the very thing... You can’t deny the magnetic pull of Jaehyun’s game...
Sure, you’re feeling the heat from your toes to the top of your head, but let’s keep things in check, yeah?
Feeling the groove, as you pull out the lollipop to give your lips a little lick, your eyes wander down to what could be seen as a ‘dangerous tool’, and you smirk.
Jaehyun sucks in on his lip, very slowly, very cheekily. The guy’s clearly amused with you. 
“Are you seriously just going to keep looking at me like that?” you ask eventually, taking a moment before adding, “I’m not a fan of it.”
“Mmmmm,” he gives his hundredth low hum, tilting his back head just so, & flexing that tight jawline that always seems to be up for something... something explicit and offensive.
However you pout and slide the lollipop right back in your mouth.
“Tasty?”
...You had to know that was coming, right? And so, as the duel continues, you shrug, allowing a slight grimace to escape your lips, piquing his curiosity about the taste he’s missing out on.
& it runs like a charm.
As Jaehyun lets his eyelids droop in the slowest blink imaginable, &, in his infamous deep voice, says, “I waaanna taste.”
Nuh-uh, even if you tried to reject, it wouldn’t make a difference since he’s right in your face; his mouth hanging agape, eager for absolutely, really absolutely! anything you might have to offer... Cause, there’s always room for a shift in sentiments, wouldn’t you agree?
Though the ‘weapon’ somewhat still stays pointed at you...
Take notes!
For sure! But being the fantastic person you are you tap into your generous spirit & pull out the candy with a satisfying pop while Jaehyun stares at you, mischief even spilling out of his open mouth.
With only inches between you, you gently slide the bad sugar in, pushing it along his tongue and unconditionally savoring the moment and the view.
-
His slightly downturned, sultry eyes as you still hold onto the other end of the white plastic, & he keeps sucking on the lemon in his mouth.
Those damn sunken cheeks of his. The tiny scratch on his nose from a few days ago which has mostly healed, but you can still see it.
The dense, dark brows in disagreement with his bleached hair with a still lingering odor of ammonium hydroxide... Really, a look born from a reckless bet on a chaotic road trip—a decision that seemed utterly foolish but now is somehow working in his favor...
In a way, it’s even funny how the flashy hair is soooo out there… but it’s there, being just one aspect of him. Still, you have to admit its impact is real. A gutsy choice that jazzes him up a notch. This new arc he’s projecting, where it seems, he’s flirting a bit more with his impulsive side? Yeah...
Somewhere between handsome and creamy tabby cat... He’s just bursting with the most obnoxious playfulness, and he’s paired with a smile that raises up his dimples.
The way he’s making you curious and wild >>>  He’s so sexy, it’s unmatched...
And you understand the gravity of wanting such a fine man! The—
(!) The despite knowing, yet failing... or at least in what you think you know and what you think is better.
-
You’re completely focused on his lips, and in an instant, reality just seems to melt away like it’s under a spell.
Tis a state... A mood! The ninth cloud where you can’t feel the air or the ground... All there is is his insane eyes scrutinizing your reaction to what he does to the lolly, and it’s honestly the worst kind of pressure.
Finished savouring, Jaehyun’s tongue casually circles his sensuous lips, collecting all possible leftover like he’s just finished you in style.
“Ummm…” Scrunching his nose at the flirty, piquant taste, he takes a step back. Mulls over the candy choice; pushes his cooked bangs; and hesitates before he says, “Nah, this isn’t the one... I-um... I bet there’s something better out there... It’s likeee” suppresses smile in advance of saying it, “It’s just on the tip of my tongue.” His brows flatten too, mans serious! “Help me think?”
OH, Sir!
A treat that can out-beat this bittersweet taste? A goodie that packs an even bigger surprise?
Your always rambling mind goes thoughtless, & that burning need to press on drops off like a light switch. The coming panic. Your gotcha moment. You go quiet. It hits you that this is the first time your playful teasing has backfired and that maybe you can’t be bailed out of what’s to come.
Worse, as it’s one of those silences that just hangs in the air, making things feel more tense. Your self-imposed rules about ‘what you think you know’ and ‘what’s better’ dissolved, leaving you fully present and stimulated.
& Jaehyun digs right in, spreading the cavity...
He lifts the bat again, its tip gently pressing into your belly, and it’s like you can almost feel his warmth seep through it, then past the fragile silken fabric to your skin. 
You get so hot. This bizarre ripple from your legs to your tummy as you tightrope between pleasure and unease, joy and hesitation... It’s like you two are finally on the same wavelength, knowing what the other is about to say before the words even come out.
A delicate crease develops between his bushy brows which deepens as he tenderly whispers, “I’m sorry.”
“Jae- don’t.” you murmur, your lips curving into a sorrowful pout as you gently shake your head ‘no.’
Needless to say, something nuanced only you and him know...
The result of everything that’s happened...
The ‘this whole trip has messed up the trajectory of our friendship.’
The reason why he chose to hang back today...
The tactics which kicked in since everyone piled into that Jeep truck this morning & sped away. 
The from ‘getting schooled’ in all the board games to the countless Polaroids he let you snap of him, to that little “I’m sorry” hand peck he gave you that had you making the death stare, and the “Don’t ever try to do that again!”
The rude ‘skin-feeding’ masked behind the pretense of a ‘generous’ food provider.
And how you slipped past every move, pushed back, and resisted until he has put you up against this wall... and now ‘the-no-escape’.
Still and all- your pushback’s like a sport. Be afraid of what follows...
-
For Jaehyun gnaws into the very walls of your sensitivity as if sensuality were his chosen medium. Each deliberate motion of the bat becomes a brushstroke in the masterpiece of your downfall...
He glides it along the contours of your waist, teasingly skimming over your curves, trails it down your legs and inners, and even lifts the hem of your dress just enough to make your skin hurt in anticipation.
Then, it finds its way to your stomach yet again, as if to indicate something deep & unexpressed, before tracing a direct path up your sternum, sweeping along your collarbone until he’s made your cardigan slip down your arm, taking the delicate strap of your dress with it...
So much of ‘Jae, don’t,’ huh? Oh, sweetheart… 
-
Certainly, the last thing you hope he avoids is the very thing Jaehyun does...
Trailing the bat along your jawline, ultimately he rests it under your chin... Something something about a ‘clear display of dominance.’ His insane eyes about render you completely motionless as he insists on glancing between your eyes and your lips the way one searches a dictionary for definitions. Again and Again... And then gravity happens...
In an instant, the bat slips from his grasp and tumbles to the floor, making you flinch as his lips finally find their way to your bare shoulder, where seems like he’s achieved something.
Oh, the bite-
An insidious heat stroke as you moan the most promiscuous hiss there is.
“Jaee, we shou—”
“Baby-”
Vibrationssssssssss...
It comes out even more whiny as he gets all of that word muffled against your neck. It roughly cuts into your focus, seeps into your ears, and goes straight to the wrong place.
The very last thing you feel yourself do is slide left against the wall, scraping for any last escape routes, but he just moves in sync with you.
Up to the moment he—
The sound of yearning?
Jaehyun’s palms slamming into the hardwood, spreading out like wings on either side of you, creating a cage of flesh. Brushing off the idea of consent, his hot body presses against yours.
With his hands up, that whimsical teddy bear tee yet again peels from his jeans. It constricts around his arm sleeves, flexing the impressive curve of his biceps. His veins, too, scrumptiously pushed in motivation: ‘All mine! You can’t outrun this, baby. I’m keeping you right where I want you.’
Really, the rest it’s all in your perception—either a trap or a safe spot.
-
A little motel inside a world of sand... you’ve never felt smaller than you do now with him towering over you—not literally, size in drive and ambition.
You watch yourself fade&wilt in his unsettlingly lazy eyes like Valentine’s flower petals from their vase falling onto the white desk dirtied with graphite from pencil shavings and candy wrappers. 
It’s so desertly calm, that your nails accidentally strike a chord in tune as your hands casually fall past his belt buckle...
A beautiful melody that makes his dimples grow deeper, though he still tilts his head, frowning adorably as he perpetually continues to figure things out just for the sake of figuring things out...
Yeah?
Cos, what is the motive here? As your hands do settle gently at the hem of his jeans, fingers teasingly dipping into the softness of his navel?
Hook + Pull = Gravity.
Oh, man, do you make him feel insane things? Cause you’ve been on your guard for the whole day, some goals are hard!
Are you coming ahead of all his sneaky schemes? Are you a baddie too?
Cause now you’re just holding up a higher card like you’ve been doing in every game today. Maybe you... are... on top of your game... The candy of victory is better when it’s hard...
Gravity... Your lips inch closer. 
Your slightly parted lips & that parched swallow might just give Blondie a hint of how desperately you want him to melt on your tongue. And you’re over worrying about it. You even yank at his necklace.
The way his hair falls over your lashes creates a delightful distraction as your noses nearly collide. And the best you can pretend in this intimacy is filthy, “I still haven’t forgiven you.” 
“Ummmmm...”
On brand! Disturbingly sexy hum that flows like honey—a sugary glaze, coating your lips in a deliciously gooey way. You’re hit with the sting & the toxin even before Jaehyun has a chance to consider kissing you or taking any steps. He smiles, he’s just that awful...
“You will.”
-
Alas,
the abrupt grating noise of tires screeching to a stop cuts through the dull ambience outside. A lively group seems to spill out of the truck, loud and as if they’ve just been recharged. A voice you both instantly recognize calls out, saturated with sarcasm and clearly wanting to grab ‘someone’s’ ears. 
“Greeat! We’ve just rolled into ‘Losers Place!’”
-
What a Dullass Bullshit Scenario... for Losers.
Jaehyun scoffs lightly, giving a flimsy half-eye roll, his lips pursed in a way that shows just how unimpressed he is with the moment... Inexplicable urgency drives his body into yours one last time, likely a final act of connection.
He hadn’t even had the chance to pin your hands above your head or hold your jaw in a way that would leave you feeling completely—
There was no pulling of hair, nor did you wrap your arms around his neck to-to—
Nor did your tongue map out the crossroads on his stomach...
Or—
Clear anger paints your temple, too, each line bearing frustration... Just there’s something about keeping it a secret that bodies the danger factor, making everything feel so much more smoky and intense.
& you pout as much, nudging your nose against his as to where you feel all deprived but electrified by simply- just- doing that, softly whispering against his lips, breath all drenched,
“Do you think they know?”
Girlie, Fuck! Do you know what you do to him?
© 𝟭-𝟰𝟵. do not copy, translate, repost, and modify my works.
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mariespen · 10 months ago
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Panic Attack ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧
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rafe x fem!reader ୨୧ summary: “What have you done to yourself?” warnings: mostly panic attack + comfort, abandonment
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ᝰ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
You could feel the soles of your feet dragging on the cold hardwood floor of Tannyhill. The entire house was deadly quiet except for your occasionally scratchy breathing. Rafe had left two days ago on a panicked mission of some sorts. You tried to protest his leave by begging him to talk to you, asking for anything. Unsurprisingly, Rafe gave you nothing. He shut the overarching front door abruptly, promising to be back soon. Two days passed.
The funny part was that you could see the regret in his eyes as if he wasn’t thinking about anything else. Rafe looked at you like he was being pulled out at gunpoint. You regretted things too, like focusing on your pleas for any explanation rather than taking in his features for what could be the last time.
Your feet were sore and tired from the endless pacing that took you by storm each day since he left. Your eyes were sunken into the deeper parts of your skull for no reason other than the weighted feeling of exhaustion paired with the inability to find any rest. Your hair was disheveled, thrown into whatever could keep it out of your pale face. Stress and anxiety wore down your heart until you felt as if you saw the world from two feet shorter. You had become a shell of the person you were before.
Until there was commotion at the front door. Your delayed reflexes caused you to only look at Rafe when he was mere feet away from you. Even though you had felt utterly lost, his presence was enough for you to feel your own eyes lighting up.
“Baby..” He whispered, looking at you with a horrified expression and walking up to you as you wobbled on your own feet.
Rafe wrapped you into a tight hug instantly, kissing the side of your head as you tried to register your own feelings, shaking in his arms. He took a step back, moving to cradle your face in his hands before looking over every sunken feature of your face that had weighed you down for the last two days. Rafe’s eyes were narrow with heavy concern.
“I didn’t mean..” He trailed off, noticing just how dire your condition was.
His eyes felt judging as they trailed over your face and body, almost like they were trying to seep into your mind. A thin layer of panic started to coat your lungs as his presence served to be less than comforting.
“Why did you.. leave me?” You whispered, your voice cracking as you felt your whole body shaking again.
“I..” The sentence died on his tongue, again.
Pushing away from his grasp, you stood back and tried to support yourself.
“What did you do?” Rafe barely whispered, furrowing his eyebrows and setting his sights on your disheveled appearance.
“W-what..?” You replied, everything weighing down on your shoulders all at once as his words broke the world around you.
“How did you let yourself..” “No..” You whispered, backing away and letting tears form on your waterline as your face contorts into that of a crying child.
“Oh, baby..” He walked back up to you, supporting you in his arms, “What have you done to yourself?”
Your chest heaved as you tried to suck in more air. Your heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of your claustrophobic ribcage. A gag left your mouth as you let a cry go with it. Tears finally freely streamed down your cheeks as you sobbed into him. Your legs collapsed beneath you and he helped you to the ground, giving you space and taking a seat in front of you.
Rafe had only been next to you through about two panic attacks this far into your relationship. Each one felt more traumatic from the last, but you both knew it wasn’t true. You relied on Rafe, so it was easy to let yourself crave his presence during your flash-panic attacks.
“Look at me.” He said clearly, hesitating with a hand in the air, debating if he should touch you or not.
Every part of your body felt like it was being squeezed dry as he tried so hard to bring you back to the moment. You wanted his touch, his skin on yours, his pretty words in your ear, but your mind was racing while your body stayed frozen. You resorted to begging him through your own thoughts, nothing else feeling capable.
“Deep breathes, baby. You’re safe. It’s okay.” He recited a few times, finally deciding to hold your hands in his.
“H-hurts..!” You managed to sob out, referring to the doom-ridden feeling in your chest.
“I know it, princess.” Rafe whispered.
You mustered up the energy to lean forward, watching as he got the hint and moved next to where you were piled so you could curl into his body.
“S’just me, okay?” Rafe repeated a few times, his hands finding a place in your hair.
Looking up at him and feeling him looking back slowly helped you calm your ragged breaths. He held one of your shaky hands to his chest so you could mimic his breathing while he kept your head up.
“I can’t.. can’t..” You started, feeling more out of breath after focusing on his patterns instead. “I know it, baby. It’s okay, just look at me.” Rafe said, holding your foreheads together and letting you relax into him.
He left innocent, chaste kisses to your cheeks while he made you hold eye contact, letting his presence sink back into you.
“I’m so sorry.” Rafe whispered to you when your sobs finally slowed down. 
With a deep breath, you nodded and broke eye contact by shoving your face into the crook of his neck. He let his hands find your hair again, kissing the side of your scalp right as you calmed down enough to breathe properly.
“I love you.” Rafe whispered, picking you up gently to support your weight on his own.
“I love you too.” Your voice cracked but you stayed strong, not letting tears fall again as you moved to your shared bedroom.
Rafe rubbed your back as you fell asleep on him, letting the lonely feeling disappear.
“My baby..” He whispered before you closed your eyes.
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ᝰ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
813 notes · View notes
justalildumpling · 7 months ago
Text
the aftermath (of champagne & tequila)
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synopsis: so maybe those few glasses of champagne and tequila wasn’t your smartest choice of beverages at your high school reunion. but how were you supposed to know that running into your childhood crushes absolutely wasted would have you dealing with the aftermath of making out with not one, but both within the same hour?
pairing: haechan x fem! reader & mark x fem! reader genre: love triangle, childhood crushes au, college au, fluff, humor word count: 7.4k warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of alcohol, vaping, weed, jokes about death and just a 'hol lot of y/n being a dumb drunk
note: there’s really no plot to this, just pure thirst and chaos but then again, isn’t that all my fics ever🙃 (and god forbid any of my irls see this bc they'll know exactly who everyone is based off of💀)
[ playlist: all my friends - snakehips / feels - calvin harris / pretty please - dua lip / one kiss - dua lipa / leave the door open - bruno mars / nasty - ariana grande / streets - doja cat ]
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IN YOUR DEFENCE, you weren’t planning on getting this drunk. 
In fact, you remembered reassuring your group of friends about this the day before, emphasising your astounding hatred towards the very limited selection of the free alcoholic beverages available at the bar (namely, beer and wine). 
Further backing up your case, you had initially turned up to your high school reunion an hour late with the lazy excuse of your last-minute decisions towards your outfit that day – which, considering your turbulent meltdowns about having no clothes at two in the morning, was a complete fucking lie – only covering up your actual reasonings of not wanting to face your high school year group. 
You didn’t exactly have any particular reasons to avoid anyone – a matter of fact, you liked to think you got along with everyone back in the day, often bouncing around from friend group to friend group with shiny eyes, inviting smiles and friendly banter – but there was something about reuniting your cohort again after a year which felt awkward. 
There was no doubt that everyone would have changed in some way shape or form. 
Heck, you were a completely different person from when they last saw you in the body of that wide-eyed girl in the crisp white blouse with the conservative knee-length pleated skirt. Plus, judging by the daily scroll of your Instagram feed, many of your peers seemed to don an altered version of their high school selves as well – meaning you had to get to know everyone all over again. 
You vaguely remember turning up at the congested bar next to your high school building. The entrance was decorated with popped bottles of champagne with only a few clean empty glasses left on the display tray. The rest are in the hands of the various levels of tipsy college kids packed together like a can of sardines in front of the bar, eagerly milking out the bar tab set by the committee. Despite your school renting out the entirety of the second floor, it felt a little too tight, almost claustrophobic inside as you discreetly tried to scan the drunken crowd for your usual group of friends. However, your search didn’t last long, resulting in you eventually giving up after a few seconds, opting to ease the mild squeamishness with some liquid courage.
The cheap champagne burned the back of your throat as you settled on painfully chugging the glass in mere seconds, sticking out your tongue in disgust. Regardless of your initial reaction to the first taste, you began lining up for another glass, maybe in hopes of finding your intoxicated friends swimming in the chaos.
“Oh my god, Y/N! Is that you?” 
Your ears perked at the familial voice amid of the loud chatter, head whipping towards the warm beam of Huang Renjun – a longtime locker mate/bandmate during school. Crushing you into a tight hug, you momentarily thanked the higher power of the universe for sending at least an old buddy as your first very sober interaction. 
Though you and Renjun had never exclusively shared the same social circle, your friendship went way back. It started from being in the school’s so-called “rock” band together to trauma bonding over some unfortunate extension English classes in middle school to being neighbouring lockers for the entirety of high school. You recalled Renjun being a wholesome-looking guy, uniform always neatly tucked in, hair short and well kept, so when you spotted his long bleached hair and a silver ring hanging off the left corner of his lip as you pulled away from his grasp, surprise was an understatement of your reaction.
“You pierced your lip!” you exclaimed, turning your face to various angles around him to have a closer look.
A hearty laugh escaped his lips, throwing his head back as he playfully modelled his new accessory with a childish smile, “I did! Though I would be lying if I said I got this voluntarily.” 
You cocked your head at him as the two of you received your preferred beverage from the bar counter, gesturing for him to elaborate. Renjun paused, sipping on the overflowing bubbles of his beer before adding, “I lost a bet with Donghyuck.” 
Lee Donghyuck, a name you would say you were well acquainted with. He was a popular figure with the female community of your school for his visuals and many other talents, an eye-catching part of Renjun’s circle and your childhood friend. Well, sort of.
The two of you met in second grade, the joyful period of a child’s life where everyone was automatically considered friends if you shared a class or your mothers exchanged more than two sentences and invited you to their birthday parties. Also meant, playing with the designated child of your mother’s chosen friend of the day until their hour-long conversation was over. 
Considering the sheer amount of afternoons spent with Donghyuck throughout your elementary school days running around with his family puppy on the school grounds, you would think that would automatically deem the approval of the “childhood friend” title. But the two of you didn’t really talk outside of your forced interaction nor did you share the same lunchtime activities much to your pathetic heart’s dismay. 
It would be a lie if you said you weren’t charmed by the warm scruffiness of the little boy, oftentimes guilty of shamelessly boring holes into the back of his head during class and daydreaming about your futures together instead of listening to your homeroom teacher. You had a feeling your mum knew of your little infatuation towards the boy, often sending you a knowing gaze after your weekly runarounds with him and after the mention of his name in conversation prompting you to believe that her coincidental run-ins with Donghyuck’s mother weren’t so accidental afterall. 
Though growing out of your shorts and summer tunic dresses and into your somewhat maturer age of a teenager; the validation of the excuse of your mother’s budding friendship to catch him after school expired alongside the dissipating giddiness you had once held for him. Something you saw coming for a while as you found yourself seeing less of him around which came as no surprise as neither of you shared the same class nor the same friends as you naturally started gravitating to different parts of your enlarging year group. 
Finishing off the remainder of your flat champagne, you raised your eyebrows at the boy, “Donghyuck? Haven’t heard that name in a while, how is he?”
Renjun hummed, fingers drumming on the sides of his beer glass, “Why don’t you ask him? He’s here today,” he began standing on the tips of his battered converses, peering around the bar for the boy in question.
You shook your head with a chuckle, “Don’t worry about it. It’s going to be impossible to find him-”
On queue, Renjun hollered Donghyuck’s name at the back corner of the room, waving at a shadowed figure exaggeratedly. You weren’t even sure how he was able to spot him within the chaos so quickly when you were still left in search of your friends. But that wasn’t your biggest problem anymore as you recognised Donghyuck emerging from within the darkness, jokingly shoving past the large group of huddled and what you assumed to be intoxicated boys. 
He didn’t look too different from the last time you met, maybe a few centimetres taller, skin sun-kissed from the recent summer weather but holy shit, was he still as hot as ever. If not more.
“Damn Y/N, is that you?” 
You were too sober for this. Sure, you had started to feel the buzz peppering various parts of your face; but your emotions, the logical voice in your brain remained intact, with it blaring “DON’T FUCK UP!” in bold capital letters the closer he got. 
Shoving your jitters further down your lame excuse of a brain, a playful smile was forced upon your lips, “The one and only.” 
Donghyuck grinned, lightly pulling you into a welcoming embrace, catching you off guard, “It’s good to see you again.”
You could tell the alcohol had already hit his systems judging by the uncharacteristically physical greeting and eyes lazily half-lidded as he pulled away from your grasp. “Looks like someone’s had a bit to drink tonight?” you teased, eyeing the lingering closeness between the two of you.
Donghyuck chuckled, softly shaking his head, “I haven’t had too much, maybe a couple of glasses of champagne at school and a few beers here. What about you?”
“Only two glasses of whatever they’re serving at the bar,” you shuddered at the thought, placing your empty glasses down on the side of the countertop. 
“So what I’m hearing is that you haven’t had enough yet,” Donghyuck sent a cheeky wink your way, completely forgetting about poor Renjun’s presence in the conversation as he lightly tugged at your sleeves back in front of the bar, ordering your preferred drinks with the bartender. Clinking your topped-up glasses with the boy, you wondered if making conversations with the boy was this easy before. It wasn’t like he was antisocial or judgemental during your high school years, maybe a little arrogant at times which initially caused your group of friends to have a slight dislike towards the boy.
“Y/N no,” you remembered your best friend Ningning immediately shutting down your thoughts followed by the excessive nods of your friends. 
The five of you sat on the floor in front of your lockers, the smell of the freshly made fries Minjeong had bought from the deli next door wafting down the corridor as you had your heated discussion for the day. How you ended up on the topic of your resurfacing feelings for Lee Donghyuck was a whole other question of its own. (Ah, you remembered. Minjeong tripped down the stairs as you and Donghyuck exchanged smiles and pleasantries, whilst she panicked about her one fry which flew out of the cardboard box, all you could think about was him)
Ningning scrunched her eyes, lips formed into a sour expression, “He’s just so…” 
“Egotistical?” Shuhua offered.
“Short?” Yunjin added, throwing a handful of fries in her mouth.
“Both,” Ningning affirmed. She patted your lap, a thin smile drawn on her face, “You’re too good for him Y/N.”
It was safe to say that the droplet of leaking feelings had shrivelled back up into your heart that day, both due to your friend’s confronting opinions towards the boy and the unapproachable aura he exuded. (Ok, maybe you admired his golden face from across the room from time to time but who could blame you? It wasn’t your fault his stupidly good looks started appearing at every extracurricular activity you signed up for that term) 
A full glass’ worth of conversation passed at this point, and the both of you head deep into your storytelling of your crazy nights out. Bursts of booming laughter thundered as he described canon bombing into his university’s questionable lake and audible gasps sounded as you described your New Year's celebrations earlier that year. Maybe you were wrong about your skepticisms towards the boy during your schooling years, blaming your tendency to catastrophize any minor inconvenience to blow his inherent “unattainableness” out of proportion.
Pulling your phone out of your handbag to check the time, you were greeted with several missed calls and spammed messages from your friends, slapping you back to your original goal in mind. 
“Everything alright?” Donghyuck’s face appeared beside your phone screen, eyes concentrated on your sudden change of expression.
“Uh-” you began typing your response to your group chat, reassuring them of your whereabouts in the heavily packed venue, ”-yeah. Yeah, sorry,” you clicked your phone shut, stuffing it back into your purse before facing him again, “Just reassuring a panicked group chat.”
He laughed, dipping his head in understanding, “I’m guessing I’ll have to let you go?”
You shrugged, offering him a small pout, “Unfortunately but hey, take a shot with me later?”
A soft smile littered Donghyuck’s face, hands squeezing the tops of your shoulders.
“Bet, I’ll come find you.”
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NOTE TO SELF: Don’t go into the female restrooms during a big event in a relatively logical state of mind.
The girls' restrooms were a lively place for the residents of your school, always scented with the popular fumes of grape ice and strawberry watermelon vape, the tile floors littered with abandoned pairs of laddered stockings in the winter and forgotten multicoloured hydro-flasks perched on the benches. With quite the vaping addiction of your school, it was always a fun game of guess who when you took the trip to the restrooms during class, which clique was occupying the stalls together, which flavour they were attempting that day or what piece of drama you were going to be handed. 
You realised that not much had changed when you found your friends huddling with quite the assortment of other girls in your year group in the bar restroom. The air was concocted with the nostalgic smell of blue raspberry vape and Maison Margiela, accompanied by loud loving gossip in the unoccupied stalls and the occasional drunken mirror selfies in front of the basin.
“Oh my gosh Y/N! You’re alive!” Ningning screeched, glomping you into a tight hug, “I was about to get up on the tables to find you out there.”
“Sorry, I missed your calls,” you wheezed as Minjeong came over to peel the girl off of your body, “I didn’t realise my phone was on silent.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” Shuhua slurred attaching herself to Minjeong’s side, “You must’ve been bouncing around like you usually do, judging by how long it took you to find us.”
“Yeah,” – if bouncing around meant from one drink to another with the same person – “You could say that.”
“Yunjin said hi by the way,” Minjeong interrupted, pulling up a photo of your absent friend striking a cute pose in front of a sushi train in Hawaii, “She said to drink on her behalf, which I don’t think is the best idea.”
“That girl’s probably drunk right now,” Ningning snickered, turning to face the large mirror to reapply her lip gloss, “But I’ll take any excuse to drink more.”
Minjeong raised an eyebrow at the girl, “Didn’t you say that you were saving your liver for next weekend?” 
Ningning merely shrugged, waving her off before grabbing ahold of your hand with an animated wiggle, squabbling about something along the lines of you looking too sober. You ran into many old faces on the short journey to the bar front, hearty laughter and juicy gossip unconsciously spilled and overheard from the neighbouring conversations (Though whether it was true or not, you weren’t sure, but considering the topics of accidental pregnancies and very messy breakups – maybe it would be best to wish for the latter)
You were on your fourth glass of champagne at this point, something you couldn’t understand as every sip you took attempted to change your mind; it really just tasted the same – like fucking ass. The state of yourself on the other hand arguably has made some progress, to your best friend’s delight. You had joined in on Ningning’s nonsensical babbling a half glass ago, nodding along to whatever came out of her mouth with a small giggle tickling up your throat. She leaned into your ear, slurring some muddled sentence that was drowned out by the screaming lyrics of ABBA. A nod came as a reflex for you, a dazed smile tugging at your lips.
She gave you a little squeeze on your shoulders, shuffling past a sea of people and to the other end of the room. The world seemed to move faster than what your brain could handle at that given moment, only registering the disappearance of your friend as well as the foreign group of kids gathered around you a few minutes later. 
There you were, at square one once again, like a clueless fish stuck between the school of other wandering creatures. Except, replace the ocean with flat champagne and cheap house beer.
With an exasperated sigh, you took a step back from the chattering circle, but what you thought was an empty space was in fact a person. A person with a full glass of beer – well, half full after you knocked into it.
“Shit- Fuck- I’m so sorry, is your drink o…kay?” Your words trailed off as you came face to face with your ex-best friend Mark Lee.
Ah yes. Mark Lee and Y/N L/N, quite the known duo during your middle school days. Inseparable, protective and unanimously voted as most probably secretly dating or housing feelings for each other – which to be fair, wasn’t exactly false. 
Your rather complicated feelings for the boy began in fifth grade when the boy slipped you a silly doodle of a duck in a top hat during math class. The two of you were seated a table apart from each other with your respective seatmates so you weren’t too sure of why he specifically chose you to gift his work of art but regardless, you giggled, pencilling in the words “Taffy the Duck” on the top of the page to pass back to him. Your little note passings continued throughout the rest of elementary school, leading to middle school where in your despair realised that you shared zero classes with the boy. Despite this, your friendship stood as strong as ever, hanging out during lunchtimes and visiting the local 7/11 after school until well – it wasn’t.
There was no pivotal moment when you stopped being as close as you were; in fact, it was a question that remained frustratingly unanswered throughout the years. It wasn’t like the two of you ever argued or had a major fallout – which could’ve given you a proper reason to either make up or talk to him again – but rather be described as a painstakingly slow drift, enough to the point where it was unnoticeable. Maybe it started with the branching of different friend groups then led to your attention on your respective crushes at the time – which now that you recollected on your past, think that your hidden feelings for each other at the time were the only thing holding you together.
Sure, you had attempted to revive your friendship at times, starting with the ever-so-awkward first hellos in the stairwell to a couple of sentences exchanged before classes started in your final year, but all efforts seem to have unravelled as you graduated from school and went on your separate ways, until today.
“Oh hey, Y/N?” 
You handed him a napkin from the bar, “Mark.” 
Shaking the excess residue off of his hand, he mumbled a quiet thanks as he took the napkin from you. You wanted to die, really. As a matter of fact, you were convinced that it would be a much more pleasant experience than silently standing like some dumb wooden doll in front of your ex-best friend, as he cleaned up after your mess. 
“So,” he cleared his throat, “It’s been a while huh?”
You gulped down the last sip of your drink, feeling the burn of the champagne trickling down your oesophagus, “Yeah, I mean the last time we talked was, one and half years ago?” – Technically, it was his birthday a little less than a year ago when the two of you last exchanged messages. It entailed your short greeting of “happy b’day mark!” and the equally blunt response of “haha thanks y/n”. However according to the Cambridge dictionary, a conversation is defined as a discussion about a particular subject and well, nothing was discussed.
“Well, how have you been? Your brother doing well?” Mark passed his fingers through his dark locks, turning his full attention to you.
You were surprised he remembered your brother, with him starting school not long before you guys stopped being friends, “He’s doing well, grown up a lot since you last saw him,” you snorted, remembering his little presence trailing behind the two of you after school, begging for you to buy him Mcdonald's fries, “How about you? You attend NCIT right?”
“Yep, studying Business,” he rolled his eyes, “Quite the regretful choice. How about you?”
“Communications at Yonsei,” you responded, “Though, I did originally transfer from Business, due to as you said. Quite the experience.”
Mark chuckled knowingly, raising his glass to take a sip of his remaining drink, “It suits you. Communications that is.”
“What? Because I’m loud?” you joked.
He shook his head, “You always had great ideas, people always looked to you for advice.” 
A warm smile made its way onto your face. It was a reassuring phrase to hear, short but impactful nonetheless. Especially as you struggled to figure out your path after school, switching from one faculty to another in hopes of finding the one that didn’t make you want to throw yourself off a cliff side. Communications was a spontaneous jump but it was the only choice that made you confident in your abilities so hearing this sort of external validation felt nice, especially from him.
Mark returned the gesture, eyes crinkling into the tender crescent shape. Despite the maturing of his facial structure, he still housed the same childlike smile. The one which stretched to the outskirts of his cheeks, softening his overall cold exterior. The one that made you fall for him in the first place. 
“How come I didn’t catch you at school earlier?”
You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, “O-Oh, I turned up pretty late so I missed out on the terrace drinks.” 
“That makes more sense,” Mark hummed in affirmation, eyeing you up and down, “I feel like I definitely would’ve noticed you if you were there.”
What. 
“Tequila shot?” he offered.
You bat an eye, “Uh, sure.”
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YOU SEE, you were an affectionate drunk – most often seen clinging onto your friends’ bodies for dear life or littering kisses on their cheeks towards the peak of your night outs. You concluded your drastic personality change was due to the massive confidence boost and the silencing of the practical parts of your brain, meaning that your already concerning amount of extrovertedness maxed the scale.
Before that evening, this quirky little trait of yours never caused you harm, only resulting in the multitude of ‘friends’ being made in the club’s restroom line or several new followers on Instagram the morning after – half of which you barely remember the existence of. 
It was barely eleven when Donghyuck snatched you away from your friends, keeping what you thought to be an empty promise of taking a shot with you. Although you were the one originally suggesting your actions, you won’t lie that you held low expectations for him to follow through – most definitely considering his current state of mind.
Clinking your shot glasses together, you downed the liquor in mere seconds, followed by the soothing taste of the lime, melting away the burn that chased up your throat. An electrified laugh sounded from your left as the familial chords of Bruno Mars blasted through the speakers. Donghyuck held no hesitation to grab your hands, dragging you to the front of the speakers as he playfully serenaded you throughout the way.
You could only shyly giggle as he twirled you around the circling crowd, blatantly avoiding his grand gestures for you to sing along. But your resistance didn’t last long as the chorus hit, finding yourself swaying to the beat of the music, accepting the enclosing distance between your bodies. You peered up to meet his eyes, still filled with the childlike wonder and life from the early days of your friendship to the sharp slope of his nose to his scattered moles down to his supple lips.
“You know Hyuck, you’re really hot.”
A satisfied grin laced Donghyuck’s lips, “Am I now?”
“Can I kiss you?”
You weren’t exactly sure what initially prompted you to blurt your relatively forward words to the unsuspecting boy. Maybe it was the lingering fresh taste of the lime on your tongue. Maybe it was the way he swiped his tongue against his bottom lip to soak up any last droplets of the liquor or simply because you just wanted to. Either way, what you didn’t expect was for a smirk to tug against Donghyuck’s lips, stepping closer to your body, eyes flickering to your lips as a finger grazed the underside of your chin. He momentarily wavered a couple centimetres away from your lips, warm breath fanning against your face before his lips met yours. 
The once horridly ear-deafening music of the room with the bubbling chatters of your cohort seemed to fade into the background as the ghost of Donghyuck’s hands skimmed the bare parts of your waist. His tousled curls tickled the sides of your cheeks as he nipped at your jawline, pinning your body firmer against the wall. 
“God forbid if our mothers saw us right now,” you let out a slight gasp as he kissed the sensitive part of your neck.
“Well, good thing our mothers aren’t here to see us, right?” a low chuckle rumbled from his throat before reconnecting your lips again, his tongue fighting for its place in your mouth. Your fingers gripped at the back of his head, tugging at the strands to elicit a staggered moan from the boy, filling your chest with a weird sense of pride and definitely not helping your already inflated ego.
You could conclude you had certainly passed your tipsy stage, with the last shot of tequila seeping into your system and pushing your brain’s irrationality almost a bit too far. You remembered once hearing your tenth-grade biology teacher talk about the effects of alcohol on the human body and how it altered your brain’s chemical composition. Specifically, how it lowered an individual’s inhibitions and social rationalisation.
And considering your ongoing messy but undeniably hot lip-locking with Lee Donghyuck, you began regretting zoning off in the latter part of that science lesson (not really. You did manage to beat your personal record in 2048) where she had subsequently explained how to piece together the drunken jumble in your brain as the following few words which tumbled out of your mouth, you would inevitably regret.
“Wait, I need to pee.”
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YOU HAD TO ADMIT. It was quite scary the amount of things you managed to figure out about yourself whilst severely intoxicated.
One, you really couldn’t hold your bladder. Evident by the frequent trips to the restroom every thirty minutes or the number of times you had bumped into the same group of girls gathered outside the basins, offering you a hit of their neon-coloured vape and a piece of their drunken secrets. 
Two, realising the sheer amount of time and money wasted spent trying to figure yourself out during your high school years as the one night of limitless alcoholic beverages seemed to be a confronting personality test in itself. 
Three, the emotions you spent years persuading to simmer down in your heart were capable of rapidly firing out in mere seconds alongside the memory bank of shitty pick-up lines and your apparent drunken rizz that went through the roof.
Four, maybe your best friend’s words of you supposedly being in your “hoe phase” were really true because at that moment, you really, really wanted to kiss someone – more specifically, Mark Lee.
It wasn't exactly the best course of action, considering your heated make-out session with Donghyuck not too long before – which you left halfway through, might you add. But wise decisions weren’t things you were great at making. Especially a few too many glasses of champagne and spirits deep.
According to your very skewed sense of time, it was around midnight when you stumbled into Mark once again, this time hidden within the shadows behind a pillar in the corner with another drink in his hand. Not many people lingered around this part of the room. You guessed it was due to the immobile bodies sprawled across the dingy carpet a few metres in front and a frustrating lack of both music and alcohol. With a light trip in your step, you made your way towards the boy.
“Oh my gosh Mark! What are you doing here?” 
A concerned grimace appeared upon Mark’s lips, prompting him to place his drink on the carpeted floor to steady your rocking body. The room had begun spinning at this point in time, with Mark’s face distorting ever so slightly to your hilarity.
A giggle bubbled up your throat, followed by your hands which gravitated towards the poor boy’s face, poking various parts of his features in such fascination. Mark could only sigh, registering his sheer lack of control in the situation, as he sat you on the plastic chair. 
A wave of peace washed over your bodies for a few minutes, with Mark quietly sipping on the remainder of his drink whilst you traced your fingers across his jawline. Though much to his despair, the calm before the storm barely lasted three minutes as your loud ass mouth began itching to dominate your brain.
“Mark, has anyone ever told you how fucking hilarious you are?” 
Mark deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest, “I haven’t said anything.” 
“SEE?!” You bounced out of your seat, “A fucking knee slapper that one!” 
Another sigh escaped his lips, getting ahold of your shoulders again to place you back down, “Y/N, how did you manage to even get like this?”
“You know Donghae? Haechang? Whatever his name is-”
“Donghyuck.” Mark corrected, eyebrows furrowing at the mention of his name, “What did that overgrown cabbage patch kid do to you?” 
“Relax, he just bought me a shot…” You drew out your words before pouting, “Or two, and maybe a couple drinks before that.”
Mark shook his head, patting your head, “I’m gonna get you some water.”
“Nooo! Don’t go, you’re so sexy!” You latched yourself onto his waist, fingers twisting around the belt loops of his jeans. 
You could feel him visibly freeze on the spot, occasionally twitching nervously the closer your hands lingered to his crotch. You staggered up from your seat again, hands grazing his torso to wrap around his neck. Despite only a part of his face being illuminated by the light behind the pillar, it was enough to make out his parted lips and widened eyes.
Just like Hyuck, you realised how much Mark had grown into his mature face over the years. His cheekbones were more prominent, and his hair styled with the hard gel he refused to use in middle school. You reached to pass a stray strand across his forehead, though your eyes never left his and your lips inching closer towards his.
“You’re drunk, Y/N.”
You shrugged, eyes flickering down to his lips, “I wasn’t drunk when I wanted to kiss you.”
“And when was that?”
“Middle school, high school,” You paused, pondering for a second, “After graduation.”
A moment of shock flashed across the boy’s face, lips partly ajar and what seemed like a rollercoaster of emotions tumbling within his eyes. You had always questioned what his response would’ve been to a potential confession back in the day; maybe he would’ve reciprocated your drawn-out feelings and lived as a happy couple to this day, or if you wanted to be pessimistic, suffered the horrors of a toxic middle school relationship and be forever traumatised by love for the rest of your life; or maybe he would’ve rejected your feelings and just remained as an awkward pair of “besties”. 
There was a little voice shrieking from the depths of your brain to shut the fuck up, most probably belonging to your sober self trying to save your face. However, it seemed as though the mystery to your decades-long question would be answered that night as Mark chuckled, clearing his throat.
"Middle school me would've gone crazy hearing this." 
You knew you were definitely wasted at that moment, his words of reciprocation to your elementary school feelings flying over your head and rather hyperfocused on the warmth of his embrace and the subtle gulp of nervousness he took.
"What about present-day Mark?” You murmured, your breath hitting his lips, “Is this making him crazy too?"
"Absolutely insane."
You were reminded of your friends’ comments on your drunken rizz, with apparently any form of embarrassment and dignity thrown into the gutter to crash and burn. With the amount of unknown dms you had woken up to the morning after drinking, you’d think you would’ve learnt your lesson by now – but your drunken alter ego was a stubborn bitch. 
A bitch who definitely needed some kind of therapy.
As Mark smashed his lips onto yours, it was then you were hit by your mother’s words about drinking responsibly. Obviously, to avoid alcohol poisoning, potentially blacking out and passing out on the side of the road, but most importantly, to avoid involving yourself in sticky situations in which your sober self had to deal with the aftermath.
But how were you supposed to anticipate that the aftermath of a fuckload of champagne and tequila shots was going to have you hooking up with your childhood crushes at your school reunion?
Oh, and blackout whilst you were at it.
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YOU WEREN’T GOING TO LIE, waking up in the comfort of your sheets came as a surprise for your tired self. 
You were quite proud of yourself for making it back in one piece, or even back at home at all and not passing out on the side of the road somewhere, considering the rather large gap in your memory and the fact that you were most definitely still drunk when you woke up. 
There was a slight wobble in your step as you made your way over to the kitchen, head pounding and face still numb as you took the first miraculous sip of water. Your phone screen lit up with a bomb of message notifications and Instagram tags from last night, in which you nervously opened your active group chat.
[ yunjin ] did i miss anything?
[ shuhua ] i shit talked about ppl with aeri and somi whilst high
[ ningning ] yk i don’t think i recall parts of last night
[ you ] i mean,, understandable. u were pretty fucked
[ minjeong ] y/n wrestling tongues with donghyuck was the most unexpected for me
[ shuhua ] you what😭
[ you ] we are not mentioning that…
[ ningning ] wait i swear it was mark, was it not?
[ yunjin ] lol plot twist: it was both
[ you ] …
[ minjeong ] YOU MADE OUT WITH BOTH OF THEM!??!?!?!
You chose to shut off your phone at that moment, predicting the bloodbath of capitalised screams and spammed Facetime calls from the group. Which, in all honesty, you severely lacked the willpower to deal with.
A soft shuffle of slippers sounded at the kitchen entrance, and you turned to face your mother. Still in her pink fluffy pyjamas, drowsily waved as she made her way to the fridge, delicately opening the door to grab the milk. 
“How was last night?” she asked, making her way to the milk frother.
You hummed, walking to the coffee machine with a mug in hand. “It was…”
An absolute clusterfuck of chaos – would be the correct answer. But telling your mother you had drunkenly made out with the sweet little son of her old friend and the name of a boy she hadn’t heard from for half a decade probably wasn’t the best piece of news to be told first thing in the morning – if at all.
You slipped a capsule into the machine with a crack, half haphazardly pressing buttons on the top before a mellow whir filled the silence, “... Interesting.”
A short chuckle resonated inside the refrigerator door, “What did you do this time?” 
You scoffed, offended by the direct jab of her question, “Hey! I don’t always get into trouble!”
“So you didn’t do anything last night?” 
You groaned, pouring the foamed milk into the coffee mug, “Well, no…” Dragging on the o, you passed the mug to your mum, huffing as you sat on the countertops, “How can you always tell?”
“I think I’ve heard enough drunken antics from you to know,” she took a sip from her mug, raising her eyebrows at your phone lock screen, “And I think the amount of notifications you’re receiving says a lot too,”
You reached over the end of the countertop, swiping your phone with a roll of your eyes. Your once pretty lock screen of you and your friends had been bombarded by the stacks of message notifications, fulfilling your prediction of incessant exclamation marks and illegible keyboard smashes. However, one contact profile stood out from the rest – that being a concerned Renjun.
[ renjun ] u feeling alright after yesterday?
[ you ] physically, pretty decent.  [ you ] mentally, very confused.
[ renjun ] haha fair, u did seem pretty wasted before u left
His message made you pause, attempting to dial back your inefficient memory to when you left the venue. 
Did you even see Renjun before you left? Pfft, who were you even kidding – you didn’t even have any recollection of how you got home in the first place.
[ you ] remind me how i got home..? :)))
[ renjun ] … mark left u with minjeong who called u an uber home [ renjun ] god, how much do u remember?
[ you ] … not a lot
[ renjun ] u free wednesday? i think we need a debrief
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“IS IT TRUE that you kissed both Mark and Donghyuck at the reunion?”
Now. When you agreed to get a casual drink with Renjun the following Wednesday, you had expected a few questions about your little flings with his friends to come up in conversation. But boy, did you fail to prepare for such bluntness so early on.
“H-how the fuck- did you- know?” Choking on the sharp intake of the unmixed gin at the bottom of your cocktail, the calm approach you had rehearsed on the way over to the bar fell apart as your response came out as a desperate splutter of coughs and stutters.
Renjun threw you a sidelong look, chucking the pathetic remains of the stale popcorn at your figure, which you barely dodged.
“Because those horny fuckboys told me, how else?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, the accentuation of the word fuckboys making you feel rather defensive over your drunken behaviour, “Just for the record, I don’t usually go around sucking faces with every hot guy I see.”
“I never accused you of doing so.” 
A smug look settled on Renjun’s face, clearly amused by your unfortunate situation judging by the quirk of his lips as you reached for your drink once again. 
“You are insufferable.”
“So-” Renjun dragged on, resting his elbows against the tabletop, “Who was the better kisser, hm?”
The alcoholic concoction got caught in your throat once again, sending both you and your rapidly declining self-preservation into a downward spiral. The straightforwardness of the boy is one of the contributing factors, the rest being the rather vivid flashbacks of your liaisons a few nights prior. 
It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked about this before – in fact, you recalled it being one of the first questions shoved into your face when you picked up your friends’ calls. However, whether you gave them the answers they were desperately seeking for, you weren’t sure because simply. You weren’t exactly certain about how to answer it either.
“I cannot believe that you hooked up with both your childhood crushes and managed to mess up both interactions,” you remembered Shuhua splutter incredulously through your FaceTime call with the approving nods of the rest following shortly after.
“I just- how did you get the courage to pull the two hottest guys in our year whilst being the drunkest you had ever gotten?” 
“It was because I was the drunkest I had ever been,” you grumbled in response, rolling your eyes at your screen, “I wouldn’t have otherwise.”
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t hook up with them again?” 
You chose to remain silent for Ningning’s question, neither wanting to directly confirm or deny any theorised accusations which plagued your best friends’ minds, but, with the growing giddiness which reflected on their faces, you realised that no amount of silence could ever hide your real thoughts from your friends, prompting the passing notion that maybe the silence was actually meant for you and your restless little brain. 
Shaking away your thoughts, you turned back to Renjun, “Why are you so interested in this anyway?”
Renjun slurped the last droplets of his cocktail, eyebrows raised in amusement, “Well, aside from the fact that you chose my two best friends as your hookups for the night – which, may I add, coincidentally happens to be both your childhood crushes – Let’s just say those two aren’t exactly on good terms right now.”
Your lips parted from the straw, “Aren’t on good terms?”
As far as you remembered, the three of them had been best friends since early middle school – a fact that made you want to coil up into a shameful ball of nonexistence – you recalled seeing them on the soccer field at lunch, oftentimes doubling over themselves over something on Donghyuck’s phone or the rare exchanges of shy hellos and flustered smiles when they had met up with Mark as he dropped you off in front of your classroom. 
Despite the drift in friendship from your end, Mark’s friendship with Donghyuck had always seemed to remain close – which, considering their shared activities of partying, sports and residing in the same social circle, made sense.
Noticing your puzzlement towards his revelation, he added, “Believe it or not, they fought over the same girl a few months ago.” Renjun popped the fries in his mouth as if he wasn’t casually spilling his best friends' secrets to a girl he randomly reunited with a couple days ago, “which is funny because that’s literally what’s happening right now.”
You groaned, slinking further into the wooden seat with your head buried into your hands, “Great. So what you’re saying is that I’ve just further ruined your guys’ friendship because of some silly drunken mistake.”
“I guess you could say that.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Oh, lovely. What a great reassurance to hear.”
“I was just offering my pure honesty, no harm intended.” 
The two of you slipped into a comfortable silence, ordering the last deserving round of the cheap happy hour cocktails before it was too late. As you waited for your orders to be delivered, Renjun spent the time scrolling through the photos of their drunken nights out, replaying the short clips of Donghyuck with a traffic cone over his head and his own unfortunate events of being rolled around the empty city in a stolen shopping cart.
With the number of snorts and giggles exchanged, it felt like no time had passed since your high school days – except for the increasing recklessness between both parties.
You began retelling your version of your nights out, from the gasps extracted as you mentioned witnessing a random street brawl in an alleyway to the disapproving tuts of his tongue about your case of being stranded on the side of a highway at three am. 
“You know Y/N? You really are the bringer of chaos.”
You could only chuckle in response as you reached for your phone, “Trust me, I’m not that bad.” 
However, as you unlocked your phone to read through your missed notifications for the evening, you realised that maybe you should fix your habit of making bad decisions whilst severely intoxicated, as what you found waiting on your lock screen served as a painful reminder of quite possibly your stupidest mistake yet.
Noticing your sudden change of demeanour, Renjun frowned, “Hey, is everything alright?”
You could only bat an eye, pushing your phone to his side of the table for him to read.
[ mark ] hey, what u up to?
[ donghyuck ] { image 1 } [ donghyuck ] wuju misses u :((
Yeah, you took it back. You really were the bringer of chaos.
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a/n: bro u don't even understand.. this has been sitting in my wip docs for like more than a year😭 but i finally forced myself to write and post something on this app that wasn't a longass smau OIHFOIWEHF anyways thank you for reading!! don't hesitate to leave a comment and rb this post if you liked it🥲
taglist: @polarisjisung @wooyoung-a @w3bqrl @ficrecnctskz @rv7hsua @n0hyuck @neosdaisy @baekhyunstruly @rum-gone-why @dinonuguaegi @alethea-moon @klovmasworld @moonchele @chernabogsbiggestfan @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @produmads @shwizhies @dearlyminhyung @barbkh8450t @cupid-yuno @mxnhoeuwu @haechansbbg @sehunniepot @ujisworld
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astrcmoni · 23 days ago
Text
⁖✦ ˖ flicker of light ˖ ✦⁖
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pairing: billie eilish x fem!reader
MASTERLIST
genre: angst
synopsis: Two years after a devastating breakup, you unexpectedly cross paths with Billie, the ex who shattered your heart, at a crowded party. As the night unravels, unresolved emotions, lingering tension, and unspoken truths collide, forcing you to confront the love and pain that still bind you.
wc: 3.8k
warnings: angst, smoking, slight cussing
authors note: hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it, let me know what you think.
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You never thought you’d see her again, not after the way she left. she had always been a storm—unpredictable, consuming, leaving wreckage in her wake. You tried to hold on, but there’s only so much a person can give before they break. When she walked out, it felt like she took the last of your light with her.
You remember the way it felt to watch her walk away—her oversized hoodie swallowing her frame, her head low like she couldn’t bear to face you. She didn’t even slam the door; it just clicked shut, soft and final. You told yourself you were done with her, but that was easier said than lived.
It’s been two years since that night. Two years since her voice, soft but certain, said, “I can’t stay.” Two years since you swore you’d never let her back in. But tonight, under the illumination of the glowing party lights you see her again.
Standing across the room like a ghost made flesh. drowning in her own sea of bodies as people danced around you both causing a claustrophobic separation. Her hair’s a different color now, and her face looks a little older—sharper in some ways, softer in others—but it’s her. There’s no mistaking those eyes.
You caught sight of her first, squinting at the back of her frame, not fully realizing who it was until she turned towards you. then, those blue eyes locked with yours. and it feels like the ground drops out from beneath you, leaving you weightless and frozen, suspended in a moment you can’t escape.
Your chest tightens—not just in surprise, but in something deeper. It’s like all the feelings you thought you’d buried are clawing their way back to the surface, making your heart ache in a way that feels almost physical.
Your breath catches, the kind of catch that’s barely noticeable but feels like everything inside you is short-circuiting. Time slows down, or maybe it speeds up—you can’t tell because everything is a blur, a haze of indistinct shapes and muffled sounds. You don’t even register the people around you anymore; they’re just noise, fading into the background as your vision tunnels on them.
And then there’s the sting, sharp and raw, a rush of memories slamming into you all at once. The sound of her laugh, the way she used to look at you, all of the things that were left unsaid. It’s like your mind is running a reel of every mistake, every moment, and you can’t stop it no matter how much you want to. You feel too much and nothing at the same time—numb and overwhelmed, like your body and your emotions are completely out of sync.
Party forgotten all about and it feels as if the world narrows to just the two of you, that was the last thing you wanted right now. The more you two stare at each other the more the air around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing down on your chest, making it impossible to breathe. Every sound around you—voices, music, laughter, clinking glasses—starts to blur together, growing louder and louder until it’s just noise, grating and overwhelming. Your skin prickles with heat, the bodies around you seemingly too close for your comfort and it feels like the walls are closing in, each inch tighter than the last. There’s nowhere to focus, no solid ground to stand on, and your pulse pounds in your ears, drowning out everything else.
You feel an urgent need to move, to get away, to escape the suffocating weight of it all. Your eyes dart around, searching for an exit, anywhere you can break free from the crushing space around you. Shoving past the partygoers without even registering as so much of a face. Mind fixated on finding some fresh air, something open, and quiet.
Your mind raced, thoughts and questions zipping pass one another. What in the actual fuck was she doing here? This was supposed to be a small event but you should’ve known better. It was a album release party for a mutual friend, but with sightings of her becoming less and less your worry began to dissipate. But that all went out of the window tonight, just your luck.
Finally you found a door, pushing through it and being greeted by the cool air of the LA night sky. you inhale the air, gulping it as if you were abandoned at sea and it was your lifeline. Finding a small curb, you take a seat on it as your hands found their way to your knees, clutching yourself as you tried to steady your breathing, allowing you to be present once more. It’s not instant relief as your mind was still racing, chest still tight— but at least you’re out.
The crack of the earth beneath feet reaches your ears—a faint shuffle of footsteps against the pavement, growing louder with each step. Pace steady but hesitant, like they’re not trying to startle you but can’t decide if they should keep going. The click of shoes echoes quietly in the still night, a contrast to the muffled hum of music emerging from the party behind you.
You don’t turn around at first, every instinct inside telling you to stay still, like moving would somehow make it real. But the sound gets closer, the steps slowing as they near. There’s a pause—long enough for your breath to hitch—and then the faint crunch of gravel as they shift their weight. You can almost feel them standing there, their presence heavier than the silence between you. Your eyes flicked over to the shoes of the person that stood beside you and they confirmed your already strong suspicions.
“Can I sit?” Her voice is low, almost timid, and it throws you. Billie was never timid. She was loud, unpredictable, and bold. Always the one who burned brightest in any room you were in together.
Could she sit? tuh. The question lingered in the air between you, heavy and unwanted. After all the pain and bullshit she caused you, after the nights spent choking on tears you’d promised yourself were the last, the instinct was to scream a hard, unshakable hell no. How does she get to just show up, and ask something of you? You wanted to tell her to leave, to walk away as easily as she had all those years ago. It would’ve been so simple—just a few words, and she’d be gone again.
But your heart—that damned, stubborn heart of yours—betrayed you. Beneath the layers of anger and resentment, beneath the memories of slammed doors and empty spaces she used to fill, there was still a soft, desperate ache. A quiet part of you, buried under years of resolve, that wanted to hear her voice again, to feel her presence even if it hurt.
So you hesitated. The silence stretched, sharp as glass, and for a moment, she almost looked ready to walk away without an answer. But then you tilted your head ever so slightly, a gesture so small it almost felt insignificant, and her eyes flickered with something you couldn’t place—relief? Guilt? Hope? She moved quickly, like she thought you might change your mind, lowering herself into the spot on your left.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. She sat with her hands clasped tightly together, her shoulders hunched, as though she could make herself smaller, less imposing. And you just stared ahead, watching the glow of the streetlights dance against the asphalt, trying not to think about how close she was, how her scent—something faintly familiar, like lavender and rain—drifted toward you in the cool night air.
You wanted to ask her why she came back. You wanted to tell her to leave again. But most of all, you just wanted to feel something other than the confusing swirl of anger and longing twisting in your chest. And so, for the first time in years, you sat together in the quiet, the unspoken words between you louder than anything either of you could say.
“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she says quietly, her voice cracking just enough to remind you why it mattered so much in the first place.
“yea…didn’t think I’d see you,” you reply. And you hadn’t. You’d spent months—years—working to get over her, scrubbing her out of your mind like a stubborn stain. Some days you thought you’d succeeded. But now that she’s here, all it takes is one look at her for the memories to pour back in.
The way she used to smile at you in the dark, like you were her entire world. The way her hand used to linger on yours, warm and grounding. The way she kissed you, like she was terrified you’d disappear if she didn’t hold you close enough.
And then the way she left.
The way you watched as her back disappeared the more steps she took, the way your heart shattered into what felt like millions of pieces and how you were left to pick up every single shard.
“So… how are you?”
Her voice cut through the silence like a blade, sharp and unwelcome. It lingered in the air, raw and exposed, forcing you to confront a question you hadn’t asked yourself in a long time.
How were you?
The truth was, you didn’t know. You’d spent the years since her absence piecing yourself back together, brick by brick, like a fragile tower of Lego blocks. Some days, the pieces fit; other days, they crumbled under the weight of the memories she left behind. You tried new things—picked up hobbies, traveled to places you thought might cleanse you of her ghost. You even let yourself fall into the arms of others on occasion, hoping someone else might finally feel right. But none of it stuck. None of it filled the void she carved into your chest.
Still, you couldn’t tell her that. She didn’t deserve the truth, didn’t deserve to know about the nights you stayed up convincing yourself you were better off, or the mornings when you woke to find her name lingering on your lips like a bitter aftertaste.
So instead, you told her the easiest lie. “I’m fine,” you said, your voice smooth, practiced. You didn’t dare look at her when you said it, afraid your eyes might betray the cracks still mending beneath the surface.
She nodded, a faint, almost imperceptible gesture, and for a moment, you thought she might believe you. But the way her gaze lingered—searching, gentle, and entirely too familiar—made you wonder if she could see through the facade, if she still knew you in ways no one else did.
You turned your eyes back to the streetlights, refusing to give her anything more. Fine was all she needed to know. Fine was all she was getting.
“I—” Billie stops herself, looks down. She does that thing where she chews her bottom lip when she’s anxious, and you hate that you remember it so clearly. “I’m sorry,” she finally says, her voice breaking on the words. “For the way I left. For… all of it.”
You scoff before you can stop yourself. “That’s it? You’re sorry?”
She flinches, and for a split second, you feel guilty. But then you remember the nights you spent crying over her, the days you spent forcing yourself to get out of bed, to move on. She doesn’t get to come back and expect it to be easy.
“I thought I was doing what was best for you,” she says quietly. “I thought if I stayed, I’d just keep messing you up.”
Your eyes roll so hard they could fall into orbit, a scoff bubbling from your chest at her words. The sentiment is tired, hollow, the same recycled bullshit excuse you’ve heard from past ex’s—but Billie? No, this was a new wound entirely. Of course, two years apart, and she’s already sinking her claws in, pricking at your nerves.
You fish into the pocket of your jacket, fingers brushing the familiar papered edge of a joint you rolled earlier, your lifeline in case the night went sideways—which, apparently, it had. With a soft click of your tongue, you press it between your lips, muttering a dry “tuh.” Seriously? This? Now?
But when you reach back into your jacket for a lighter, your brows knit together. Your hands shift to your sides, patting pockets with increasing urgency, fingers fumbling over fabric.
“The fuck?” you mutter under your breath, shuffling and searching as your irritation simmers into something hotter, more desperate. Something in Billie’s gaze says she knows exactly where it is.
“Oh, here,” she says.
The sound is sharp and intimate, slicing through the quiet like a whispered secret. A metallic click, clean and deliberate, breaks the stillness, followed by the soft scrape of the flint wheel turning. Then comes the bloom of the flame—a faint whoosh that carries a warmth you can almost feel. It’s steady, alive, crackling faintly as it dances in the dark, casting flickering shadows against the night. The scent of singed butane drifts into the air, sharp and chemical, grounding you in the moment. It’s such a small sound, but next to you, it feels impossibly loud, like a heartbeat outside your own.
She never indulged in your smoking habits, never shared in the way you leaned into the soft haze to escape reality. But she always carried a lighter. Always. For you. Because somehow, no matter how many times you bought one, you had a way of losing them, and she had a way of knowing.
Your heart ached at the thought. Even after everything, she still carried that lighter—still kept this tiny piece of you with her, like muscle memory she couldn’t unlearn.
She held the flame steady, her hand shielding it from the wind with practiced ease. You didn’t move, your hand hovering near her but never quite closing the gap. Instead, you watched as the fire danced, the golden glow illuminating her face in the dim light. The wind teased the flame, threatening to snuff it out, but she guarded it instinctively, her other hand cupping the lighter as if it were precious, fragile.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away, trapped in the flicker of light and shadow, as if the fire itself held some kind of spell over you. Or maybe it wasn’t the flame at all. Maybe it was her—the quiet familiarity of her gestures, the way she still did this for you, even now, even after the years and the pain.
To anyone else, it might seem like nothing. An ex lighting her ex-girlfriend’s blunt, an act so casual it hardly deserved a second thought. But to you, it was so much more. It was a thread connecting the past and the present, a bridge over the chasm of two long, lonely years.
It was intimacy. A kind you hadn’t felt in so long it almost scared you. The kind that knew your rhythms and your faults, that carried lighters for your bad habits and lit them without judgment.
Your mind screamed at you to pull away, to extinguish the fire before it burned you again. But your heart—foolish, stubborn thing that it was—ached for this moment, for this tiny act of care. So you stayed still, watching the flame dance as your heart and mind waged their quiet war. She watched and waited to see what you would do, and without thinking your body leaned forward, towards that bright ember of a flame. And when she finally lit the blunt for you, her fingers brushed yours for just a second too long, it felt less like a habit and more like a confession.
You watched as the flame stretched toward the blunt’s tip, small but fierce, its edges flickering and alive. It kisses the paper, and for a moment, it clings there, glowing brighter as it bites into the wrap. The paper darkens and crinkles, curling inward as the flame consumes it, leaving a thin line of blackened ash in its wake.
Your eyes meet hers, still in your crouched position, and for a moment, everything stills. The laughter and music fade into the background, muffled by the weight of her gaze. It’s so quiet in this bubble that it feels like you could stay here forever, wrapped in the soft, strange serenity between you.
But you don’t. You blink, the spell breaking as reality creeps back in. This moment isn’t yours to keep, no matter how much you wish it was.
A wisp of smoke rises, twisting lazily into the air, carrying with it the faint scent of burning paper and the earthy undertone of the tobacco or herb inside. The ember glows softly, pulsing like a heartbeat as it takes hold, the flame retreating once its job is done. What’s left behind is a smoldering edge, fragile and jagged, the beginnings of something that burns slow and steady.
Leaning back, you withdraw the joint from your lips, letting the smoke roll slowly from your mouth. You blow it to your right, away from her, the exhalation curling into the night air like a phantom. You’ve always been careful, always mindful, because you know how much she hated it.
You remember the first time you sparked up around her, the way the cloud drifted lazily in her direction and enveloped her. She coughed, sharp and sudden, her face twisting in discomfort as her hand shot up to wave it away. Later, she told you how it made her feel—the way the smoke clung to her throat, thick and choking, leaving a sour taste at the back of her tongue that wouldn’t go away. How it wove itself into her hair and clothes, lingering like an unwelcome ghost she couldn’t shake.
“I don’t mind you smoking,” she’d said back then, her voice soft, almost apologetic, “but just… not near me. It feels like I can’t breathe.”
Her words had stuck with you, burrowed deep into your memory, because they weren’t an attack—just honesty, delivered with that quiet gentleness she used to wield so well. Since then, you’ve been careful. Always turning your head, always blowing the smoke away, no matter where you were or how distracted you might be.
Even now, with her sitting beside you after years apart, it’s instinctive. The smoke twists and curls into the night, a hazy ribbon that never touches her. You glance at her from the corner of your eye, watching as she sits unaffected, her gaze somewhere far off, and feel the smallest tug of relief.
It’s such a small thing—redirecting the smoke, sparing her the discomfort—but it feels like an unspoken promise. A habit born out of care, out of knowing her in ways no one else did. And even after everything, you can’t seem to stop yourself from caring.
You laugh bitterly, picking back up on your conversation . “And leaving didn’t?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she looks at you with those ocean-deep eyes that always seemed to pull you under. “I didn’t stop thinking about you,” she says, so softly you almost don’t hear it.
And there it is. The part of you that still aches for her, that still wants to believe in her despite everything, starts to flicker back to life. But it’s just a flicker, nothing more.
“Why now, Billie?” you ask, your voice sharper than you mean it to be. You leaned your head on your right hand as its elbow rested on your knee. Spliff burning in between your middle and your index fingers as you slightly began swaying in thought. “Why come back?”
She hesitates, and for a moment, you see the storm inside her—the guilt, the hope, the fear. “Because I’m tired of pretending I don’t need you,” she says.
“So, you’re apologizing because you need something. Not because you’re genuinely sorry.”
The words leave your mouth, calm and measured, though they sting with the weight of years. You don’t look at her, not yet, but you can feel her gaze, warm and searching, on your face. You take a breath, letting the silence between you stretch. It’s the first time in a long while that you’ve allowed yourself to speak with this much clarity, this much honesty. And it feels both liberating and painful at once.
She’s silent for a moment, and when she speaks again, her voice is softer, quieter. “That’s not true. I am sorry. For everything.”
You nod slowly, processing her words. She’s sincere, you can hear it in the tremor of her voice, but that doesn’t make the past go away. The years of waiting, the nights spent wondering why she left, wondering if you were ever enough for her.
She hasn’t moved since she sat down, but the space between you feels vast now, like an ocean that neither of you can quite cross.
“But you hurt me,” you say, your voice quieter now, tinged with something raw that you haven’t let surface in so long. “I loved you, Billie. I loved you so much, and you just left me. No explanation. No call. Hell, you didn’t even leave me a damn text.”
You finally look at her. Her eyes are wide, full of regret, and for a split second, you almost forget all the reasons you’ve been angry with her. Almost. But the hurt is still there, simmering beneath the surface, and you can’t let it go. Not yet.
“I know,” she whispers, her voice breaking just slightly, the words thick with remorse. “And I am truly sorry. I’ll never stop apologizing for what I did.” Her gaze drops to her lap, and she takes a deep breath before she looks at you again, her eyes pleading. “But I love you. I do.”
I love you.
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s holding its breath. You want to respond, want to say something sharp and dismissive, to keep the walls between you up and firm. But instead you take another drag of the joint in your hand, as your heart—damned thing that it is—pounds in your chest, betraying you in the quiet of the night.
You swallow, the lump in your throat too tight to speak, and for the first time in a long while, you wonder if the distance between you could ever truly disappear.
You know what letting her back in could mean. You know the pain she’s capable of causing. But you also know the way she made you feel when things were good—the way she made you feel alive.
And as you sit there, staring at her in the glow of the streetlights, you realize you have a choice. You can let her back in and risk it all, or you can walk away and finally put her behind you.
Your heart races as you weigh the options, the silence stretching unbearably between you. And for the first time in years, you’re not sure what to do.
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fear-is-truth · 2 months ago
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tags: mature content 18 +・fem!reader・smut・unprotected p in v・car sex
the old honda civic rattled slightly, the worn-out shocks barely holding up against the weight shifting inside. rough fingers dug into your sides to keep you steady as he shifted, the car groaning beneath you both, the air thick with sex and sweat. your eyes flicked down, catching sight of a few crumpled burger wrappers scattered on the car floor, an empty soda cup rolling with the movement. it felt cramped, claustrophobic almost, the windows fogging up even more as you tried to adjust your position, hitching your hips trying to get him to move along.
every slight shift of your body made the seat groan, but he wasn’t giving you much room to move. his body was pressed flushed against yours, his belly pushing you deeper into the worn seats. the friction from the cracked leather scraped against your ass, making you wince, but the uncomfortable sting somehow only heightened the intensity of pleasure. ralph’s — no, randall’s new scraggly beard scratched your skin as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, a grunt escaping him as the car swayed just a little from side to side.
“mhmph, f-fuck… ralph,”
you moaned, pressing the flat of your palms against his chest, but he didn’t let up. instead, his hips rutted in a more shallow, more frantic pace, and you couldn’t help the small, shaky breaths that escaped you every time you feel the tip of his cock bully into your sweet spot.
“stay still for me baby,”
ralph grunted with effort, pausing for a second to reach his hand between you; irritably adjusting his balls to keep himself from coming too soon. you tried, digging your heels into his ass to anchor yourself as he proceeded to fuck into you with a rough, frustrated need. his mouth found yours again, that goddamn fucking beard tickling your chin as he wiggled his tongue past your teeth and started to explore the wet cavern. you whimpered into his mouth, fingernails digging into his pale skin until he broke the kiss, strings of a saliva connecting you. ralph’s frustration came through in every deep thrust, every grunt as his laboured breath came in hot, uneven puffs.
a strained moan reverberated through the cramped space when he came.
fingers tangled in your hair as he continued to twitch and throb inside you, and when you opened your eyes, you saw that ralph’s face was contorted into an expression that could only be described as euphoric rapture. your walls expanded and contracted rhythmically, fluttering around him as he came down from his high.
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© fear-is-truth 2024 — do not repost, modify or translate
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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 9 months ago
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A Surprise^**
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Hello friends, thank you so much for your patience. I ended up having quite a disastrous day and it took longer to finish editing! But here is the one shot based off of this request. Hope you like it!
Warnings: TW! abusive partner: mentions of love-bombing, gaslighting/accusations of infidelity, verbal arguments, intimidation tactics (psychological and physical), physical altercation between M/F ( described, but more intimidating than violent or aimed to hurt), physical altercation between M/M (not described but the aftermath is mentioned, bloody nosy type of thing), mentions of law enforcement and law enforcement processes. Mentions of sex, unprotected sex, oral (M/F receiving), fingering, unplanned pregnancy, ultrasound procedure.
WC: 18.2K
You were nervous as you rode up in the elevator. You weren’t claustrophobic or anything, so the feeling of it closing in on you was one you had no idea how to deal with. You were trying to keep your breathing as calm as possible and clearing your head of any irrational or negative thoughts, but it was truly a challenge. It had been a nearly a year since you and Harry had been in any space together and it was nerve-racking. What was originally supposed to be a month or two-long break, turned into all this time and distance. He said he wanted to talk and get some closure, which you thought was bull shit, and that’s why you were so nervous.
Before “the break” you and Harry had been dating for four years. Things had been going really well up until he started getting antsy to work again. You’d moved to London for him and now that he was finally “off” you saw that he was jumping into the next thing he could. You understood that he felt like he needed to do something with his time but soon enough he was back in the studio for hours at a time while you just hung out at his house. You lasted a year like that before you told him that you couldn’t do it anymore. You felt lonely in your relationship with him and you saw that he wasn’t ready to slow down and settle a bit like he said he was before. That was the whole reason why you’d even moved to London for him. So when you suggested a little time apart to have him sort through his priorities he freaked out on you. But the following morning the tune was different, he was more open to this idea of taking some time apart.
You had assured him over and over again that you loved him but that you were ready for the next step and he clearly wasn’t. He then assured you that you were the love of his life and that he’d take a month or two to just tie up all the loose strings with his current project and then focus back on your relationship. You even went back home to LA to give him all the space he needed. You checked in with each other a lot but when the two months were up you reached out and didn’t get a response back until two weeks later. Much to your dismay it was just an “I’m sorry.” And with tears in your eyes you just deleted the entire messaging feed you had with him.
A few months later you were back on the dating scene. One of your co-workers set you up with her cousin, Steven. He came off as sweet, smart, and mature. He mostly had his shit together from what she’d said and you had seen, so you gave him a real chance. Yeah, he was no Harry, but no one would ever equate to Harry, so you stopped comparing and got to know him for who he was. Soon enough you’d started to develop more feelings for Steven, he showered you in attention and time and affection, it was almost too much, you thought. But then you recalled that things had been so cold with Harry towards the end that maybe you just weren’t used it anymore. It wasn’t love-bombing, it was just a man who is interested in showing you what you meant to him. After two months of seeing him casually you started talking about the future, about starting a real, committed relationship. You talked about properly meeting each other’s families and taking serious steps forward, you were gearing up to properly move on with someone who clearly prioritized you! And then Harry called. 
He was jealous, you heard it in his voice when he called, but the fact that he was jealous pleased you in a way. Honestly, you thought you’d be so well off that when you spoke to him you’d feel above him somehow, but when you heard his voice your heart ached with longing and your small victory suddenly made you feel a bit sadistic. He then asked to see you to get some closure and you quickly agreed because you needed it too. But that’s how you ended up at his hotel just an hour later. So far you were just standing there at his hotel door just taking each other in. Quite frankly, you were just pleased you had made it out of the elevator alive. But it felt like it’d been ages and no time at all at the same time, your heart was racing in the confines of your chest, making it hard to breathe once again. It made you so happy, but hurt your heart at the same time to see him. It was so confusing, feeling relief and joy and disappointment all at the same time. 
“You look great.” He complimented you after a few moments of staring.
“Oh! Thanks.” You smiled timidly, “H-how are you?”
“I’m alright. Come on in.” He said moving aside and you wandered in. You sat at the couch in his suite as he headed to the kitchenette.
“Can I offer you some water or tea?” He asked.
“No, I’m alright.” You assured and he nodded before coming over to sit near you on the couch. You sat in silence for a few moments again before he chuckled in slight disbelief and shook his head.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here.” He confessed with a shake of his head.
“Me either.” You chuckled a bit humorlessly. He had wronged you…the only thing that you knew about him right now was that he did not love you as much as he said he did. If he did he wouldn’t have left you hanging like he had. “I guess I just…needed to see you one more time. I don’t think that we left off on a good note so-”
“Exactly. That’s why I wanted to see you.” He said leaning forward and taking your hand and your facade of stoicism and ease melted away immediately. The hurt from his actions just came to the surface and made a pang of pain ripple from your chest all the way out to your fingertips, you swore even your scalp hurt as his eyes met yours apologetically.
“Harry, it’s almost been a year.” You pointed out and he frowned.
“I know, love.” He confirmed, “And I haven’t even tried t-to apologize since that text I sent you.” He said and your eyes started welling up. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just…I got scared that if I took that step forward with you it meant that my work was gone.” He explained and you scoffed.
“Harry, no! When I asked you to slow down that’s all I meant. Slow down, not stop! I’d never tell you to stop.” You sighed, exasperated and upset that he even thought that you’d ever make him stop doing what he loved most, “I just wanted you to slow down a little and enjoy your life for yourself. Spend time with your mom and your sister and your cousins and nieces and nephews!” You vented, “W-with me.” You added towards the end and he nodded in understanding. “What you do with your work matters to me. I see how happy it makes you. And I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me about your priorities.” You said and he shook his head.
“You didn’t. I should’ve talked to you about it all, Y/N. I know I fucked up, big time, but I love you and-”
“No you don’t…” you interrupted with a scoff as you pulled your hand away from his, “You’re just jealous because I’m ready to move on with someone else now.” You said to him and he glanced up at the ceiling and smiled sadly.
“Yeah, of course I’m fucking jealous!” he confessed through a pained, breathy laugh, “And I still love you and whether you believe it or not because of my previous actions, I respect you and you deserve an apology. That’s why I wanted to see you.” He explained as his eyes met yours again, “I know that I’ve lost you, Y/N.” He said sadly, “Believe me, I didn’t come to try and talk you out of that decision. I just wanted to tell you, in person, that I love you with my whole heart. I should’ve fought for you. You showed me so much love and gave me all of your care and support all the time! I shouldn’t have been scared t-to talk about it. I shouldn’t have let you go.” He explained, “I’m going to have to live with that for the rest of my life, Y/N. I know that.” He sniffled and you wiped your tears carefully. “I just needed you to know that it’s not anything you did. I love you, even still, I think I’ll die loving you.” He said.
“Jesus, Harry…” you inhaled sharply before standing up quickly. You grabbed your purse from the coffee table and started rushing back to the door.
“Baby! Baby, baby, baby-” he rushed in front of you blocking the door, “J-just wait.” He sniffled, he looked panicked.
“Why should I?” You questioned him, “Why now?” You asked for clarity and he swallowed thickly, “You had this whole fucking time and now that I’m just about t-to forget about you, y-you show up and…” you trailed off as your anger boiled over and your tears started to trickle down your face more heavily.
“Y/N, I’m sorry-” He started.
“Y-you better not be trying to manipulate me!” You warned, your voice raised in accusation and he shook his head.
“I know it might seem that way b-but I’m not, love. I’m not looking for anything from you, I know I don’t deserve it. I just needed t-to see you and apologize to you and tell you how I feel before you wouldn’t entertain the idea of me in your presence ever again. And I know you probably hate me so much right now-” He explained and you inhaled sharply with a disappointed shake of your head.
“That’s the stupidest fucking part of this whole thing! I-” you stopped and shook your head, “I felt so happy when I heard from you.” You confessed, “And I still have so much love for you.” You sniffled and felt sick to your stomach just admitting it. You felt like an idiot for it.
You had gone over a very similar scenario in your head if not millions of times before while daydreaming or lying in bed. You dreamed of him coming back and apologizing and you having the strength to not come crawling back to him after whatever excuse he gave. Except you’d gotten it wrong. Harry wasn’t standing before you asking you to come back to him with an underlying arrogance that came with knowing that your love was enough to have you come back to him. He was actually just coming to be accountable for his mistakes and to apologize to you for hurting you. He came with humility and sincere repentance for his errors, no ulterior motives. And well, you weren’t nearly as strong as you thought you’d be by now.
“Oh, baby…” he sighed, “I don’t deserve it.” He recognized, “And I know that you’re happy.”
“I am.” You sniffled.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel confused, I really didn’t want that. I really just wanted to make things as right as I could after all this time.”
“Thank you.” You responded and he gave you one firm nod. “I think I should go.” You said and he glanced into your eyes and just waited for a moment and when you didn’t waiver he exhaled and moved out of your way to let you leave.
You reached for the door and opened it up before stepping out into the hall, pulling it shut behind you as you cried quietly as you walked back to the elevator, what seemed like a trap before now felt like your much needed escape. You were just about to step inside when you glanced back down the hallway at his door, questioning if you’d been too harsh. After all, you did miss him and you still loved him…you’d definitely regret not giving him a hug goodbye or even just confirming to him that you forgave him. So with all the strength you had, you ignored that pull to return to him and got inside and left. It was time to move on.
****************
You’d been quiet and in your head all afternoon. Internalizing everything you were feeling was weird because you were never one to just let things brew in silence. You had to talk about it and your best friend was back in the UK and she had an important work thing in the morning so you couldn’t interrupt and you just wanted to talk to someone who would be 100% real with you. You decided to just distract yourself until stopped by for dinner, surely his company would provide an adequate distraction.
But even when Steven arrived you found yourself ruminating on how awkwardly you’d left Harry. You certainly got what you needed but you were out of there so fast that you had no idea if he got the closure he needed from you and now you felt bad! That’s what you were thinking about, but your silent and pensive demeanor had Steven feeling iced out which he did not like. So after sitting in your little living room on his phone for half an hour in complete silence as his football game droned on, on the TV he figured he’d just ask you.
“Babe, are you upset at me?” He finally asked as he came into the kitchen. You were just grating some carrots into the salad you were making for dinner.
“No.” You assured him with a small smile as you glanced up at him briefly.
“Well, you’ve been oddly quiet since I got here. More than half the time I’m wishing you’d just shut up for five minutes but I don’t know anymore…it’s weird.” He joked, trying to make light of the situation. But upon hearing that your brows pinched in confusion and offense at his “joke”.
“That’s quite rude and not funny at all. I heard you turn on the game and you don’t like it when I talk to you when you’r watching so I just stayed quiet.” You mumbled a bit spitefully before going back to grating and he came closer and placed a hand on your hip.
“Damn, you’re so sensitive, it was a joke.” He said mawkishly and your irritation continued blooming so you refused to look at him, “Y/N, you’re clearly in your head about something and now you’re taking it out on me.” He said and you sighed.
“I’m not taking anything out on you, Steven. I’m just thinking some stuff through.” You shared with him.
“Stuff like…?” He pressed.
“Like…my ex, Harry.” You said and he straightened up at the mention of Harry’s name.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asked with a sardonic smile and you put down the carrot and glanced up at him.
“You asked.” You emphasized and he huffed out a sarcastic laugh, “I’m not done, so listen up because it’s good news for you.” You said and he clenched his jaw and nodded, “Well he’s in town and he asked to see me so we could talk,” You explained and Steven’s expression twisted into a disconcerting look, “so earlier I met up with him and we talked-”
“Wait.” He cut you off, “Why the hell would you think to go see your ex?” He asked you, fully offended over what you’d done this afternoon.
“I went to get closure! And well, considering we’ve been talking about starting a relationship in the near future it’s good for us that I just close that door for good.” You explained and he shook his head.
“And you didn’t think to tell me about this before you went there?”
“It happened so fast and I know you were meeting clients all day so I-”
“You should have at least asked if I was fine with you doing that!” He groaned with frustration and you frowned.
“Like…ask you for permission?” You asked and he shook his head.
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Y/N.” He snapped quickly.
“I’m not, I was asking for clarification. You said I should’ve asked if it was alright with you before going. Is that not asking for permission?” You asked and he sighed.
“Look, not permission but like…at least consider me! Like, have me be there so he doesn’t get any ideas.” He said and you looked at him like he was completely delusional.
“W-what?!” You asked in disbelief, “Why would I invite you into a conversation with me and my ex about our old relationship?” You questioned.
“Because, I need to make sure nothing weird is going on! And if you didn’t want me there, which you clearly didn’t, then you should’ve asked if I was cool with you going to meet him all alone! It makes me uncomfortable to think of you two alone.” He said and you were complete confused at his logic.
“And what if you said that no, I couldn’t go?” You asked.
“I would’ve said no and you would’ve not gone.” He rebutted confidently and you were in total shock, “You have no business talking to him again, Y/N.” He added and you sighed and shook your head in exasperation.
“I wanted answers and an apology, Steven. I am owed at least that! And he took responsibility. He was able to give that to me.” You said and he scoffed.
“You’re…you’re so fucking naive.” He said and you looked at him in confusion, “It’s a test. He was testing you! Testing you to see if you’re still loyal to him. Testing to see if he still has power over you! And guess what? By going there all alone the moment he called you up, you confirmed that for him. You confirmed that he still owns you!” He was speaking to you in the most belittling way. You felt your rage flaring up inside of you.
“What are you even saying?!” You scoffed in disbelief, “It was just a conversation! I was in and out of there in less than 10 minutes!” You laughed incredulously.
“10 minutes? Really? That alone fucked you up so much you couldn’t talk to me?” He asked with a sardonic look on his face and you rolled your eyes, “See now, I’m not so sure that something else didn’t happen between you two.” He soft-launched his accusation and you scoffed.
“Nothing happened! I’m telling you that he said what he needed to say and I just left!” You explained, “I’m just thinking on it because I don’t feel right about just having left like that.” You explained, “It was awkward, the way I handled it. I didn’t even ask him if he had any questions for me or anything else to say, I was selfish. I just got the apology I needed and that was that.” You said a bit sadly and his jaw clenched for a second before biting down on the inside of his cheek.
“You promise that was it?” He asked you after a few moments of silence.
“I promise! Literally we just talked.” You reiterated and he nodded.
“Fine. I’m sorry.” He said grumpily, like a child who is dying inside because they had to apologize. You imagined he was feeling a bit ashamed or even embarrassed for jumping to conclusions like that and being so off the mark. So you walked up to him and hugged him tight as you rested your head against his chest. You relaxed in his arms and smiled when you felt his hand grab your jaw and angle up your face. Your eyes met for a few tense seconds, you were preparing for him to ardently kiss you but suddenly his hand fell from your jaw and grabbed around your throat, right beneath your jaw. Your eyes widened in fear as his grip got a bit tighter by the second. His eyes were dark as he stared into yours.
“S-steven.” You gasped in concern as you started to run out of oxygen. You tried to wiggle out of his grip, eyes watery and full of fear as your nails dug into his wrist hoping to startle him out of whatever possessed him to do this.
“I don’t want you talking to or seeing him again. Never again. Do you understand me?” He demanded and you felt your entire body just turn cold. You had no idea how to even react to this change in Steven’s demeanor so you just nodded. “You’re going to be mine soon and I need to know that I can trust you fully.” He said “I want to trust you. But can I? Can I trust you to stay away from him?” he asked and you nodded again, you’d do anything to get out of this situation, “Then say it. Swear to me.” He insisted darkly as he loosened his grip around you.
“I-I’ll never talk to him or see him again.” You whispered, “I swear.” You insisted with tearful eyes and he let you go before walking out of the kitchen silently. 
You grabbed onto the counter because your legs unexpectedly lost their strength. You were panting, struggling so hard to breathe as this entire interaction processed in your brain. You suddenly felt extremely nauseated as a wave of fear overcame you. You trembled wordlessly for a bit, feeling so devastatingly mortal. You’d never had such little power. You’d never felt so small. After a short, uncomfortable, and contemplative moment you grabbed the carrot you had been working on and got back to grating. You just had to take deep breaths and grate.
You were walking on egg shells for the remainder of the night, doing anything and everything to act as normal as possible and not bait him into another aggression. Meanwhile, he was genuinely chatting with you so casually, as if he hadn’t just grabbed you by the throat like that. It terrified you that he wasn’t acting, he was genuinely fine. You were questioning yourself now, wondering if there were signs you missed? Granted, you were now getting into more serious turf, but there was nothing that you’d seen before that indicated towards him ever behaving this way. Even as you lay in bed attempting to get some rest you just stared at your ceiling thinking about that moment. How dark his eyes looked…did you need to tell someone? It’s not like he’d actually hurt you…or threatened you…he just made you promise to stay away from Harry. There wasn’t even a mark on you. Who would believe you or what could you even do about it?
He sweetened up intensely after that though and it had your mind reeling. Even when you’d had sex earlier he had been so possessive. Normally, any type of sensual talk got you going but when he told you he was “going to make you his” as he finished it didn’t have the usual or intended effect, it made you feel uneasy and made you regret having slept with him after what had happened earlier on. You immediately hopped into the shower because you just needed to wash off the memory of him of on you. You held in your tears because you thought he would join you but he just called out a goodbye after some minutes. But even in your solitude you were practically frozen and emotionless. You’d never experienced him like that and it worried you, so you decided to talk to your friend about it.
*****************
You were nervous to talk to Marie about this because she was also his cousin, but you just needed to know if there was a history to Steven that you didn’t know yet. Maybe he’d done something like this before, just got aggressive and overly possessive with another partner? Or perhaps he’d been cheated on and severely overreacted because of his past hurt? But Marie’s sort of distant demeanor should’ve tipped you off that things were not going to be good with this conversation.
“Thanks for meeting me. I actually wanted t-to talk to you about something important.” You said as soon as the waiter left after bringing your drinks. “Something that happened w-with Steven.” You said and she pulled away from her straw.
“Look, you don’t need to tell me what happened, Y/N.” She interjected, “Steven already told me.” She said flatly and for a second her anger seemed just. You were glad she was angry at him for you. “And look I love you and you’re my friend, but quite frankly, I can’t believe you’d go and hook up with Harry after how good Steven has been to you.” She said and your jaw dropped in shock.
“W-wait what?” You asked incredulously.
“Don’t do that with me, Y/N. I know how weak you are for Harry.” She said and you shook your head, “I mean…I did warn Steven early on t-to be careful and take his time with you because you’d probably cave and run back to Harry.” She said and you frowned, “But after all this time? I mean Jesus, Y/N! The man pretended like you didn’t exist for almost a year! How little self respect do you have t-to allow him back in after everything?!” She questioned you with disappointment and a harsh judgement.
“Is that really what you think of me?” You asked her and she sighed.
“Look, I’m sorry for being so harsh but I love you and I’m angry at you for cheating on my cousin. He’s a good guy!” She defended her stance and you shook your head.
“I didn’t cheat on your cousin. We’re not even in an official or exclusive relationship so even if I had fooled around with Harry he has nothing to be upset over! He’s the one who hasn’t wanted to be exclusive yet!” You corrected and Marie smiled incredulously down at her drink, “You don’t have to believe me about Harry if you don’t want but believe this, Steven? He’s not a good guy.” You said and she looked up at you again fully offended.
“Y/N, look-”
“No, listen to me. I just need you t-to hear me out. Last night he…h-he grabbed me really hard by the throat and made me swear I would never talk to or see Harry again. He terrified me.” You confessed and her eyes didn’t even soften up, “I came t-to ask if maybe I’d struck a nerve by mistake, looking to justify how he behaved towards me but the fact that he got to you first and lied about what happened…that just confirmed to me that I want nothing to do with him. He’s a ticking time bomb and I refuse to be collateral damage.” You said as you stood from your seat.
“How dare you.” She said and stood as well and you shook your head. “You can’t just go around throwing accusations about someone like that! Especially about this sort of thing! It could ruin him, Y/N!” She said with a quiet and calculated rage.
“Believe what you want, but I want nothing to do with either of you ever again.” You said to her and walked off. When you sat in your car you were trembling with rage, you could not believe the last 24 hours of your life. You were just collecting yourself before taking off, you didn’t want to get on the road with that much anger flowing through your veins. You jumped in surprise when your phone started ringing loudly from your purse and you groaned and reached for it and when you saw Harry’s name on the screen you just felt a wave of comfort and then it turned into fear. You knew Steven wasn’t here but you couldn’t help but glance around your immediate surroundings before answering the call.
“Hello?” You spoke into the receiver tentatively.
“Y/N, I ummm, I need you to come down to my hotel right away if you can.” He said to you and you felt your stomach drop.
“W-why?” You asked him nervously.
“Your boyfriend broke into my suite and tried to attack me.” He said and you gasped. “Are you alright?” You asked instantly.
“Yeah, thankfully. But now h-he’s telling the officers that you put him up to this.” He said lowly, “Just come and we’ll sort this out.” He assured.
“Okay, I’ll be there soon.” You said and took off despite your heightened emotions.
Just before you arrived to Harry’s suite you saw a pair of officers guide Steven away down the hall in hand cuffs. He had a bandage over his nose and a busted lip. He barely held eye contact with you as they pulled him along. You rushed down the hall and hurried into the open suite more than relieved to see a paramedic only icing Harry’s hand while he talked to one of the officers looming over him.
“Oh my god, I’m glad you’re okay!” You exclaimed in relief and he stood right away and hugged you tight as you leaned into him and that’s when all of your emotions from even the night before caught up with you and you started to cry. 
“Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m alright.” He assured you lowly.
“Yeah, but sometimes you minimize things to not worry anyone so…” you reminded and he chuckled a little as you pulled back, “I’m so sorry about this, H. Sincerely. Genuinely! I-I can’t believe he went as far as pulling something like this.” You expressed, still quite flabbergasted at what had gone down. Harry rubbed over your back in comforting circles.
“It’s alright. I’m alright.” He assured you, “He’s worse off than I am.” He smirked a bit as he delivered this news.
“Oh, I saw.” You chuckled through your tears and he hummed. “You’re not gonna get into any trouble, are you?” You asked.
“No, love.” He assured you, “I acted in self-defense so we’re all clear there. He did give me a good scare though.” He said more seriously and you sighed. 
“This never should have happened…I just don’t get it where this came from? I swear, this is not at all like him! I’ve never seen him behave this way in the couple months we’ve been seeing each other. Even last night was just so out of character for how he’s always been towards me! And I’m not trying to make excuses for him. Clearly this is fucked-”
“Wait. What happened last night?” Harry asked you more seriously and you sighed and shook your head.
“Nothing, really.” You said to him and he gave you a look, not a scary one, just an insistent one. You sighed and shrugged, “Last night when I…when I told him we met up to talk and get closure he got really angry at me. Like, he was livid. It was truly an overreaction to me mentioning that I was really happy over having received that apology from you but that I felt like I had been awkward about it and left it weird with us.” You explained, “Then, he asked why I didn’t ask for permission t-to talk to you or see you or why I didn’t ask him to come with me? And I explained that I agreed to meet with you so that we could clear the air so that I could move on with him in peace and he accused me of fooling around with you.” You explained monotonously as you felt like you were there all over again, “I assured him we just talked and he then pretended like it was fine and apologized half-heartedly… and I went in to hug him but then it’s like a switch flipped.” You recounted what had happened, “I thought he was going t-to kiss me but he…” your voice faded out into an exhale, “H-he grabbed me so hard by the throat and made me swear that I wouldn’t see o-or talk to you ever again-”
“Miss?” One of the officers interrupted and you turned towards the officer as Harry released you just a bit. 
“Yes?” You asked softly.
“Can you elaborate more on this altercation?” He asked and you swallowed thickly.
“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” You said softly, eyes now laser focused on Harry’s dangling pendant as your vision started to blur with more building tears. You were scared more than worried about getting Steven into any more trouble and Harry could see that. “Love, look at me.” Harry insisted and you blinked rapidly as one of your tears trickled down your cheek before you looked up at him, “If he did anything to scare you, you need to report it.” He said, “He’s fucked as it is for this, he can’t do anything to you ever again. He won’t.” Harry assured you and you nodded.
You proceeded to explain what had happened and how he had grabbed you. You explained that you felt intimidated and frozen and unsure of what to do next after the altercation. You were asked why you didn’t call the police or make a report and you explained that you didn’t think there was anything to report. He hadn’t technically hit you or injured you. You had no visible marks on you or anything to prove this apart from the fear you’d been harboring ever since. But the officer informed you that even a forceful grab is considered assault in the sate of California. And that speaking to you that way, exerting any tactics to make you feel subdued or intimidated were also considered acts of aggression and intimidation that were reportable offenses. And after a few more questions and you assuring them that he had never done anything like this to you before they moved back to the situation with Harry. With police reports filed they went on their way and you offered to get Harry a new place to spend the rest of his trip.
**************
It was just a few hours later and you were sitting in your living room waiting for Harry to come out of the shower and for his lawyer to arrive. You felt awful for this whole thing with Steven, you really had no idea he was a psycho like this. Marie had actually tried calling you almost 20 times and had sent you about 15 texts asking you to call back and that she was sorry for not believing you earlier. You were still too angry at her to respond so you put your phone on “Do Not Disturb” and just focused on the TV and wondered if it was a good idea to have brought Harry to your home. You had found another place for him to stay but before you booked it he asked if it would be alright to use your guest room because he was concerned for your safety since Steven knew where you lived. 
His concerns were valid. And you knew that Steven was well connected and had several lawyer friends who you were sure could get him out on bail by the morning, so you agreed to let him stay. You just didn’t want to also put Harry in harm’s way again. You would never forgive yourself if Steven did anything to hurt him. All in all, none of this felt real, you felt like you were in an unhinged daytime soap episode just waiting for another tragedy to befall you and those in your life. You were so on edge that you flinched in fright when the doorbell rang. Once the shiver passed through your body you hurried over to see through the peephole and saw Harry’s lawyer waiting there.
“Hi Darius.” You greeted him with a smile and he smiled back upon seeing you as well. It’d been quite a while.
“Y/N! Wow!” He chuckled, “It’s so great to see you!” He greeted you happily as you led him inside.
“Likewise! I think Harry’s just finishing up his shower, he had quite the day.” You said as you locked up behind him and he sighed.
“Yeah. I’m so sorry to hear about that. But I’m glad he’s safe and that you’re also safe.” He assured you and you thanked him before guiding him over to the kitchen and allowing him to get set up while you went to grab the Coca-cola he’d requested. 
It was just a couple of minutes before Harry joined you two and caught up a bit with Darius before he got into the story of what happened. Harry was going to follow through on pressing charges and he was even more motivated to get it all done ASAP when he heard what Steven had done to you the night before. He wanted to give Darius his statement as well while it was fresh in his memory so that it matched up perfectly to what he’d told the police and so he started answering the questions while Darius recorded and took notes as well. But hearing it in detail for yourself made it all the more sinister for you. You weren’t even thinking about it all that deeply when you reached for Harry’s hand under the table and he paused and briefly looked at you.
“Sorry.” You mouthed and started to pull it away from him but he instead tangled your fingers together and kept talking.
You stayed at his side for the rest of the time until Darius left, assuring you both that he’d let you know as soon as any headway was made in this case. With a final farewell you were locking up behind him as Harry waited for you just a small distance away. You sighed and turned to him.
“I’m so, so sorry about this, Harry. If I had know that he would do something like this… I mean, I just shouldn’t have said anything to him about you or-”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. How were you supposed to know, love?” He asked as he grabbed your face gently, right under your jaw and you swallowed thickly and he quickly slid his hands down to your shoulders. “Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot.” He said and you shook your head.
“It’s alright. It’s still fresh.” You reminded and he sighed and shook his head.
“I’m sorry…if I had just come back to you when I was supposed to we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He said and you sighed.
“You weren’t happy though, I mean…you preferred to be alone all this time instead of back with me so…it was the right thing for you at the time.” You said to him.
“You forgive me though, right? For not…” he trailed off and you nodded.
“Yeah, H.” You assured him and he pecked your lips quickly.
“Thank you.” He said quietly.
“Of course.” You whispered back. Your lips still tingling from his quick kiss. 
“Sorry, I just needed to kiss you.” He said and you smiled slightly.
“I get it.” You assured him. “D-do you want to…sleep with me?” You asked with a little bit of hesitation.
“Yeah, love.” He said without a hint of a doubt, “Of course. I’m a bit shaken up myself.” He said and you nodded.
“C’mon then.” You said and grabbed his hand and guided him to your bedroom. You guys washed up and then cuddled into your bed. 
You faced each other silently, just looking at each other, taking each other in. You were telling each other you had missed each other with your shared, longing gaze, but you refused to touch. You both loved the static and electric feeling buzzing between your bodies far too much. It was masochism in its purest form. It hurt to be apart, you missed his vibe. His energy. His presence…Harry was a warm, little ball of light, even on his dark days. He was the kindest, most thoughtful person you’d been is fortunate to encounter. He was so hard on himself also, and you knew he was angry at himself right now. You didn’t want him to be though, you wanted him to be here with you and enjoying this reunion, however unfortunate the situation was that led to it. 
The amount of love you felt for him was impossible. As you laid in silence you smiled because you had truly missed the sound of his breathing. You inhaled his exhales, feeling more than grateful to be within his reach. You wanted to feel him on you, skin to skin. You shivered as you felt this intense love just surge through you.
“Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” You said softly and sincerely. His eyes glanced down, averting from your gaze as he smiled in disbelief. “I mean it.” 
“Even after all this time?” He asked, “After everything I’ve done?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t hurt by you.” You smiled and he chuckled, “But yeah, I still love you despite those things.”
“Enough to give me another chance?” He asked.
“I…I mean, yeah.” You chuckled nervously. “And I don’t know i-if I’m a complete fool for that?! But I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, baby. More so lately…” he said and you hummed.
“Why’s that?” You asked.
“Umm…I was cleaning out your side of things. Like to send ‘em back to you and I just…I found this little box in the corner on your side of the closet-”
“The memory box!” You exclaimed, remembering its existence.
“Yeah…I just got to see all of the wonderful things we’ve shared together. How you’ve been there for absolutely everything. You’ve never let me down.” He said softly, “And I just…felt like a total fool for dismissing that. Nothing feels the same without you, you’re the thing that just…tied everything together, you know? You made my heart feel…whole.” He explained, “When I say that I miss you that’s what I mean. I’ve been incomplete without you around, Y/N. I’ve been missing you from everything. I’m so sorry that I waited until I almost lost you to reach out to you…” he whispered with shame. You frowned and reached for his cheek
“Everything happens for a reason, honey.” You whispered, “I mean, I’m glad you came along at this time because you saved me from a potentially dangerous situation.” You said more solemnly.
“I’m glad I was here for this. May-maybe this is a…sign of sorts for you to come back home with me.” He said a bit carefully. 
Harry was nervous to bring this up to you but he really just didn’t want you staying anywhere near this man. He wanted to be certain that he could keep you safe, that he could protect you and ensure that you were never so easily in harm’s way again.  And on top of that, his love for you continued simmering lowly in the background, it had never gone out. He just fled out of fear and he regretted it so much. He had been selfish and didn’t realize it until far too late. It filled him with gratitude that you’d even hear him out for an apology, let alone give him another chance. A chance that he may have blown with this suggestion he’d just put out there.
“Ummm…I…I’m not sure w-what to say to that.” You responded honestly, “Like, my first instinct is to say yes.” You chuckled nervously and while he was relieved to hear that, he held off his excitement to hear what would come next, “But like you’ve acknowledged a couple times already, we’ve been apart for a while and I think we both hurt each other to some extent and I worry that…in jumping right back into where we left things off that we’ll forget about all of the issues that led to us breaking down instead of working through them.” You said and he hummed.
“Yeah, that’s extremely valid.” He responded, “And I guess I want this right now mainly because I don’t want you here all alone.” He explained, “I realize we have things to work through before we can get to where we were before all this. And I’m so willing to put in the work with you to get to that stage again. But right now I just want to ensure that you’re safe and far away from that prick, Steven. That’s my main concern as of now, baby.”
“Well thank you for worrying about me. I would love to leave with you but I don’t think it’d be a smart move.” You sighed.
“Even just for a few weeks until things cool off a bit? I can set you up somewhere else even.” He said and you bit your lip pensively.
“I’ll think about it.” You responded.
“Okay, that’s…that’s enough for me.” He whispered back.
***********************
It  was a couple weeks later when Steven finally showed up at your place. Obviously you had the locks changed, so his key didn’t work, which really angered him. And when you heard him shouting at you and pounding on the door, threatening to break in if you didn’t allow him in, you immediately called the cops as you had a restraining order filed against him. You also recorded everything this time as you tried to calmly coax him into leaving before they showed up. He was angry that Harry was pressing charges against him and he wanted you to talk him out of it. You knew better than to say anything about Harry’s case, so instead you asked Steven how he even got access to Harry’s location. Up until this point it was all speculation, you just assumed he grabbed the information off of your phone, that really was the only way. But there was no proof yet that this was a premeditated aggression on Steven’s end. So when he confessed to you that he searched for the information on your phone you were relieved and would submit that as further evidence to get a more strict order against him.
He refused to leave and the longer you didn’t let him in the angrier he got and even broke a window. Thankfully, the police were just arriving when this happened and they submitted an Emergency Protective Order, this was far more strict than the restraining order but that was really all they could do. You really didn’t feel safe anymore so the next morning you contacted your landlord and explained to her what had happened and let her know that you’d have to terminate your lease early for your safety. She was kind and didn’t make you pay the extra fee or even make you finish out a whole month, she just hoped you’d fine somewhere else soon. 
You contacted Harry and of course, he said you could stay with him for a little bit. You felt stupid for not just doing that to begin with like he had suggested. But the reality was that he had also hurt you and let you down and you were worried about what moving in together again so soon would do to impact your future. But for the time being this felt like the safest choice. Steven knew your friends and co-workers in the area thanks to Marie, so there was no one you could go to in LA that you felt he wouldn’t think of. It pained you to quit your job and pack up your life and go, but you needed to. Of course, Harry welcomed you with open arms and you were grateful to know that you were a whole continent and ocean away from LA right now. 
*****************
It had been three weeks of you living with Harry and things had been going well so far. You felt drained though, like completely fatigued from everything, you often felt this way when you were anxious or depressed so you prioritized reconnecting with your therapist from before right away. You were seeing her every week so far and were eager to see and feel the results of doing this deep and healing work after what had happened to you and Harry in LA. You also reconnected with a few friends and they were helping you network a bit to find a job. Harry assured you that he was more than capable to take care of you but you didn’t feel comfortable with that, especially since your romantic future together was still a bit up in the air.
You two were doing well, you were reconnecting as friends more than anything right now. Living with him was comfortable though, you had lived together before though, so you knew how to exist in the same space together. You soon noticed that just being in a situation that was familiar to you both was making you both more affectionate towards each other though, which you both had been working hard to keep at bay. Of course, the feelings were there, but having those little things that reminded you, you weren’t alone made you smile, like now…
“Baby, I’m home! Are you here?” Harry called as he came into the house.
“Yeah, I’m in the laundry room!” You called back over the rumble of the washing machine as you folded your laundry. Moments later he was coming into the small, warm room with a smile on his face.
“Hi, love! How was it today?” He asked as he came up to you and hugged you.
“It was good. I met with Poppy and her friend, Sheila, she’s the one who just started up her own tanner line or something and needs an accountant? She’s interested, so I’m meeting with her and her partner again her next week when she’s back from her vacation to see about the position.” You shared.
“That’s really good. Hopefully it pans out.”
“I hope so too.” You said as you dropped the t-shirt you were working on in the basket with folded laundry so that you could interlace your fingers as you clung to him.
“And like I said before though, no rush, okay? You’re doing plenty to help out here. And after everything else you’ve been through, taking it slow can’t hurt.” He added.
“Thank you. I really do appreciate that, H.” You smiled.
“Of course, love.” He hummed. You pulled back slowly and looked into each other’s eyes. “I’m really happy you’re here.” He reassured you.
“Thank you, baby.” You whispered.
“Baby?” He asked with a grin and you rolled your eyes and sighed.
“Well, I mean…you call me that, so…”
“It feels right, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah.” You agreed with a smile.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” You whispered with a smile. He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your cheek.
“Can I kiss your for real?” He asked you quietly and you just nodded. Moments later your lips met in a tentative kiss. There was a little bit of hesitation at first but seconds later you were kissing with more depth. Your hands held his as he cupped your face tenderly as you continued to kiss. You’d kissed very quickly a handful of times since your arrival but nothing like this where you could feel yourself getting all hot and bothered by it.
“Baby…” you mumbled into the kiss.
“Right…sorry.” He hummed and let you go breaking the kiss abruptly and you chuckled as you blindly reached down your leg and finally grabbed the dryer sheet that was half hanging out of the dryer and tickling your leg. You crumbled it up and tossed it in the garbage bin just a few feel away from you before turning back and looking up to him.
“You can continue now.” You said with a small smile and he grinned before picking you up and setting you on the dryer as your mouths met with more urgency. Your kiss and need started to grow and grow and boil over very quickly.
It really wasn’t planned when he carried you to his room and got you undressed. Even though you’d yet to resolve everything from before, you didn’t feel worried or wrong about this. You felt comfortable and beautiful as you felt his bare skin against your own. You were eagerly awaiting it as he kissed down your body and made you feel so good along the way. He wasted no time in getting down and going down on you, showing you just how much he had missed you. He savored you and gave you his best until you were starting to lose your grip on reality.
“Oh fuck, I missed you…” you giggled through a moan as his tongue did it’s wonderful work between your legs. You were tingling all over as he flicked over your clit until you were trembling and then he started to suck, “Oh my god!” You gasped as your eyes started to roll back. “I’m getting so close!” You warned. 
Your lips parted and you started to pant when he started to work two fingers into you. Your breath hitched when he curved them up into your g-spot. You felt your body melt into the bed for a second before he started to fuck into you harden until you were so tense your legs trembled as you started to come. The soft moans flowing from your lips were egging Harry on, making him even more hungry for you. You pulled him back up to you and your lips met eagerly as you reached for the button of his jeans.
“Want ‘em off?” He asked and you nodded, “Sure, baby?” He asked and you nodded.
“Yeah, baby. I want you. I need you.” You whispered and he smiled before kissing your lips quickly before pulling back a bit.
“I just…I need you to know that if we do this I want us t-to be the thing that means we’re going to try again.” He said and your gaze softened, “Obviously, I’ve missed your body and having you like this, but this is more than that to me. I want it to  be more than that.” He said and you nodded.
“I do too, baby. I want to try again. I really do.” You said to him with welled up eyes and he smiled and kissed you slowly again.
“You are everything to me.” He mumbled as you helped get his pants off blindly as he tugged the material down, “I’m never going to forget that again. I swear it, baby. You make me so fucking happy.” He panted as he toed off the pants before he climbed over you and pulled you up with him towards the the top of the bed. You climbed over his lap and kissed his passionately. Harry’s hands roamed your naked body with expertise. He knew the spots to touch and to pay mind to as you guys worked up to the love-making bit. You too appreciated his body. You touched and kissed over his body and took his length into your mouth, working him up just a bit more before you two had sex. 
“Shit, baby…fuck that’s so good!” He groaned as you sunk down on him until you gagged around his tip. You weren’t as used to his size as you once were. 
“Careful, baby. Go easy.” He reminded as he stroked over your cheek lovingly before running his thumb along your stretched out bottom lip. He loved seeing how you fit him in your hot little mouth. It had his abs clenching hard as you rolled and fondled his heavy balls in your hands until he was fighting the urge to start thrusting in your mouth. “Baby, please…please, I need you.” He panted and you popped off of him and glanced up at him.
“Can I get on?” You asked and he swallowed thickly.
“A-are you sure you want this?” He asked and you nodded.
“I do, H. I want this with you. I want everything with you. Everything that we had, I want it all back. I love you more than anything in the wor-” he cut you off with his kiss and laid you down. You were dying of impatience as hi heavy erection glided against your slicked up and swollen folds, you were so ready to have him back.
“I love you. I love you so much.” He whispered as he lined up to your entrance.
“I love you too. Please just…I need you.” You begged and so he pushed forward until he was sinking deep in your hot, wet little hole until he bottomed out. 
You hissed as you adjusted back to his size, he was great about it, so patient and eager to get you going by rubbing over your clit until you were so wet you were sliding up and down his shaft. He watched you hungrily as you lifted your hips up and down to feel him moving inside of you. But it got to the point where he needed to take over and just get you both to come. His thrusts were deep and slow, he was bottoming out with each one, it was making your brain blank each and every time he sunk into the deepest part of you. Your body was tingling and your walls fluttering and pulsing around him with every movement. Everything felt so good with him. He was looking down at you with so much adoration it was making you even more emotional.
“Baby, baby don’t cry.” He chuckled as he kissed your forehead as a few tears streamed down your cheek.
“It just feels so…good.” You sniffled and he kissed you quickly, “It feels so good to be with you.” You hummed as you rolled your hips up against his and he moaned lowly and kissed you again.
“Yeah? Are you gonna come for me?” He asked and you nodded. “Good girl, let me know when you’re getting close.”
“I will.” You whined out as he delved deep and ground against you until your eyes squeezed shut, “Shit!” You gasped as he started thrusting a bit faster into that spot until you just felt yourself leaking around.
“Fuck…” he laughed, “Fuck, you’re so wet f’me, I-I’m getting close.” He panted and you whined and started to rub your clit to catch up to him.
In a few moments you were right there on the edge with him. Your back was arching as you moaned his name as your orgasm nearly took you out. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurring as you started to come around him. He started to thrust faster to get off, but he was drawing out your orgasm until you were trembling.
“Fuck…fuck, I’m coming!” He warned as he started to press himself up to pull out. “Oh fuuuuck…” he moaned as he started to stroke himself as he came all over your mound. He thrusted his sensitive cock through your folds, making a little mess of you before kissing you ardently. “I love you. Love you so fucking much.” He whispered, his voice cracked as he started to cry and you pulled him into your chest and held him tight as you both just let your raw emotions out in this moment. 
You both needed it desperately. After he settled down he hurried to get something to clean you off and then you started to talk about you two. What you wanted, what you hoped to see in the future. You’d had these conversations before but even now the things that Harry was saying to you were complete different than before. Losing you seemed to be the thing that woke him up to how much he’d been taking you for granted. He’d gotten used to it, he’d gotten complacent at your expense.
“It’s going to be so different this time.” He said softly as he looked deep in your eyes, “I will be different this time.” He assured and you sighed.
“I believe you…there’s just a little part of me that is still not ready to let you back in.” You explained after he had explained how he was going to show up for you from now on, “I want to just trust you fully, but I’m afraid that you’ll make a fool of me again. That you’ll hurt me again.” You explained, “And I know y-you won’t but I just need to let you know that I’m still learning to trust you fully again.” You explained. “So please just…be a little patient with me.” You requested and he smiled.
“I know, baby. I will be patient with you and I will do everything I can to prove to you that I will never do anything to make you doubt choosing me again.” He said and kissed you slowly. You smiled into the kiss and let him pull you closer to him again and that’s how you fell asleep, nestled close together.
….. ONE MONTH LATER ….
In this short amount of time things had drastically shifted between you and Harry. You’d started to go on a date a week, doing thoughtful things for each other, sharing your feelings as they arose, communicated openly…he’d matured a lot in your time apart and helped you overcome your fears faster than you anticipated. You were so proud of him and it was spilling over into every moment. Like now, you were filled with a surge of love as you wandered into the kitchen to see him pulling out your favorite salad dressing from the fridge.
“Hiya, baby. What’re you up to?” You asked.
“Just making us your favorite salad for a light lunch.” He said.
“Wow, lunch already?” you asked and he smiled as you went over to him and hugged him from the back as you peeked over to his hands, eager to direct him on how much dressing he needed to add.
“Yeah, love!” He chuckled, “We had breakfast at 8! It’s already past 2pm.” He informed you and that surprised you. But you’d been so sucked into your work that it was very possible that you forgot to even feel hungry.
“Oh, I didn’t realize.” You explained and he frowned a bit.
“Baby, have you been feeling alright? It’s not just today, I’ve noticed that you haven’t had much of an appetite at all lately.” He pointed out and you frowned as you gave it some thought and realized that yeah, this was something you’d been feeling for at least two weeks. Maybe it was intense PMS? You hadn’t gotten your period since moving here, so you hoped it was just your body finally catching up with itself.
“You’re right…I mean, I have very visceral reactions to stress and big changes…I mean, my whole body and system have just been out of whack for a little but they’ll balance out again.” You assured him and he hummed.
“That’s true, it’s been hectic for you.” He said as he opened up the dressing bottle, “Honestly, I was thinking that-” he stopped as you gagged as the scent of the dressing wafting up towards you. You had to let him go and go hunch yourself over the sink as you felt the scent of the dressing just linger in your nose and mouth. “Baby…?” Harry came over and rubbed your back slowly, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah…” you grimaced, “But I think the dressing is bad. Didn’t you smell that? It was rank!” You turned to him with a disgusted look on your face and he frowned.
“I didn’t smell anything. You look a bit awful now though. You’re all pale.” He said feeling your forehead and you exhaled slowly to ward off the nausea that you suddenly felt making your head spin.
“I might throw up, the dressing smells so bad.” You explained and he frowned and turned to the counter and brought it up to his nose and it smelled just fine to him. He even checked the bottle for the usage date and it was still good. 
“This is fine…should I mix your salad with something else then?” He asked and you shook your head.
“I think I’m fine. I’ll just have some toast.” You said and he nodded. Eventually, you had to go back to your “office” and leave him hanging for lunch because you could not handle the look and scent of the salad, especially that dressing. By the time dinner rolled around you were still feeling a little off so you just had some veggies in a chicken broth and that was that.
*******************
You’d truly forgotten about your sensitive sense of smell until once again, you were assailed by an unbearable scent. Except this time it had happened at your friend, Poppy’s house. And this time you did actually get sick.
“God, I’m so sorry, P.” You apologized as you returned to her kitchen with embarrassment, “I swear its not your cooking, my nose has just been so sensitive lately and I get to grossed out by certain scents. I’m not sure what exactly yet though.” You explained to her.
“God, you sound like my sister when she got pregnant.” Poppy chuckled and you froze. That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Yeah, you’d missed your period for the last two months but literally everything impacted your period, your cycle was fickle, especially when you were under as much stress as you’d been. You weren’t surprised that it hadn’t come at all. Truly, this wasn’t new to you, especially when you were stressed out, regardless of whether or not you were on the pill (which you weren’t after moving back here, you’d run out the week before you came out). Then, you recalled that when you and Harry had sex the first time he hadn’t used a condom. Yeah, he’d pulled out but that was never a guarantee.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Poppy asked you with concern.
“I think I should probably take a test just to rule that out. I mean, it’s…very unlikely but I was a bit irresponsible a bit ago and just need some peace of mind.” You said.
“Okay, I have some in my bathroom, let me get you one.” She offered and you nodded so she hurried off to get it for you.
You were sure you were good, but you just needed to see it for yourself. There was absolutely no way you could be pregnant, you weren’t ready for that. Harry wasn’t ready for that. Like emotionally you guys were, but you had just rekindled your relationship, the last thing you needed was something this crazy to throw a wrench in things so quickly after you’d gotten back together.
“Alright, here you are, babe.” She said handing over the box as she came up to you again.
“Thanks.” You smiled nervously.
“W-would you mind if I did it here?” You asked her and she smiled and shook her head.
“Of course not.” She assured you and with that you were off to the bathroom again, sitting there, willing yourself to pee enough to saturate the stick and finally it came and you put the cap back on it and washed your hands before coming out. “I hate to be that person but what if you are pregnant?” She asked and you sighed.
“I have no idea…” you confessed through a nervous chuckle while you stared at the wall blankly, “I mean, H and I just…God, we’re just getting back into the groove of things. Throwing a baby into the mix at this time isn’t going to make anything easier. It’s just not what we need right now.” You explained to her.
“Yeah, I get that.” She chuckled, “Cam and I try and then we stop because of the same thing and like…ugh, it’s just a vicious cycle! And genuinely, if you have that many doubts it’s just that you’re not prepared for it, you know? That’s what I had to tell Cam after a few months.” She explained and you nodded in understanding. “I-if you are…what do you think Harry’d say?” She asked and you sighed.
“I have no fucking clue…” you admitted, “Obviously, before, we had said we wanted to have a family together. But again, that was before everything went to shit with us.” You sighed, “And like, we’re in such a good place right now…” you sighed, “Like I know he wouldn’t be a prick about it but we’re not quite ready for that yet.” You chuckled nervously and Poppy nodded in understanding.
“Well, don’t worry, you’ll see in a few minutes that everything is fine.” She smiled with encouragement. 
You decided to believe her that everything was going to be fine. You were already booked for a full body, deep tissue massage next week with Poppy when your timer went off. You turned off the timer and then brought the test up closer and your heart stopped beating and you stopped breathing for what felt like an eternity. Staring right back at you, clear as day, were two little pink lines.
“Th-that means I’m…right?” You asked showing Poppy and she bit her lip nervously and nodded.
“Are you okay?” She asked you with concern and you just exhaled slowly. You were completely taken by surprise. Then you started to get worried.
“I ummm…I think I need to get home.” You said to her, still in shock. You swallowed thickly as you tried to imagine how Harry would react to the news that he would be a father.
“Do you want me to drive you over?” She offered, since you had walked from Harry’s to hers. It was just a 20 minute walk, you guys lived quite close.
“No, no, P, it’s alright. I think walking will be good for me, I need to…I need…” you trailed off as your eyes started to well up with tears as you started to imagine the worst case scenario.
“Hey…Hey, hey, hey, c’mere.” She said pulling you into her arms as you started to cry, “It’s going to be alright, babe. H is not gonna be angry, you know that.” She assured you as she rubbed comforting circles into your back as you held her tight. “You have options, yeah? You know that he’ll have your back no matter what.” She said and you nodded, “Let me get you home, yeah?”
“Okay.” You whispered to your best friend and she gave you one more squeeze before letting you go.
  Once you got to your place she encouraged you to have a shower and that she’d get some tea going for you. You texted Harry that you needed him to come home as soon as possible, you didn’t want this solely on your chest for another minute. You took your time and when Harry started pulling into your driveway Poppy popped in and let you know before shouting a goodbye to you. You sighed and relished in the warm water for just another moment before turning off the water. You were soon reaching for your robe and slipping into it. You padded over to the mirror to wash your face and you bit your lip before untying the robe and looking over your body. You looked the same, you saw no evidence of a baby.
“Baby?” You heard Harry calling from downstairs. Soon, his footsteps were heard coming up the stairs and you quickly tied your robe up and got to lathering your face wash in your hands.
“In the bathroom!” You called back before rubbing it into your skin. He rushed into the bathroom and looked more than relieved to see you intact.
“Are you alright?” He asked and you sighed and quickly bent over to rinse your face. You then dabbed it dry as you reached for your toner.
“I think so…” you responded after a little bit, “I don’t know.” You sighed as you grabbed your moisturizer.
“Well what’s going on? Hmmm?” He asked you as he came over and kissed your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your middled and pulled you in closer and suddenly you had to throw up again. You gasped and wriggled out of his hold and turned around to face him. Your eyes started welling up with tears again and you were just building up the courage to say it. “Baby, you’re worrying me.” He said softly and you swallowed thickly.
“Ummm…I…I’m pregnant.” You said and his jaw slightly dropped. He let out a small and nervous laugh before he just pulled you back into his arms without a single word. You hugged him back and just held each other for a little bit.
“What do you want to do?” He finally asked you and you shook your head.
“I have no fucking clue…” you said and he let you go and hoisted you up onto the counter. You draped your arms over his shoulders as he held your thighs, “I mean, what do you think?” You asked and he sighed.
“I don’t fucking know…I mean, that’s gonna be our baby so I…like I’m inclined t-to give it a try. But at the same time I don’t know that our relationship is ready for something like this. I mean, I want this with you in a few years but we’re just getting started again.”
“I know…I don’t even know how this…like you pulled out.”
“I know, but it’s not always a guaranteed thing.” He said and you sighed.
“I should’ve said something then…” you shook your head as you rubbed your forehead with one of your hands.
“Hey, there’s no point for any would’ve-should’ve-s,” he said, “It’s gonna be alright. We’ll figure it out soon, okay?” You nodded, “Just take your time, baby. Whatever you decide, I have your back.” He assured you and you nodded. He grabbed your face and kissed your lips until you were smiling.
“Stoooop.” You giggled, “M’not in the mood.” You pouted through your smile and he smiled.
“I think you’re lying.” He hummed and you rolled your eyes. “Look, how about we get an appointment with the doctor and see how far along you are and maybe that’ll help us decide what we might want to do.” He said and you nodded.
“Yes, good thinking.” You smiled, “God, I was so scared to tell you.” You sighed and he tutted.
“What made you think to take a test?”
“I smelled something P was cooking and got sick.” You said, you felt tour cheeks growing hot in embarrassment. Harry chuckled and then furrowed his brows pensively. 
“Didn’t you almost get sick at the salad dressing a bit ago?” He recalled and you chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s true…” you remembered, “I mean, I know I haven’t gotten my period but-”
“How was that not a sign?!” He chuckled in disbelief and you proceeded to explain how your period often skipped when you were under a lot of stress so this wasn’t an odd thing for you. But he was sweet, he was calm, but you could see the cogs just turning at full speed in his mind. You hoped he wasn’t angry at you, but you couldn’t help but think that he was and that he would run again. “I’m not angry, you know?” He mumbled softly and you glanced into his eyes and smiled a bit, “I can see it in your eyes, you know?” He whispered.
“You sure?”
“I am, baby. But I am…excited too…I mean, I don’t want to dwell on it too much incase we decide not to proceed with this but…I am. I mean, you’re the only person I want to have a life with. No matter how it happens, it’s you that I want to have babies with and raise them with and just share that experience with. So if you did want to continue with the pregnancy that would be good with me too.” He hummed.
“Okay. Thank you for your opinion.” You whispered before kissing his lips and hugging him tight against. You kissed at his neck as you just nestled yourself in the crook of it. “I love you.”
“I love you.” He smiled.
…. TWO DAYS LATER ….
You currently found your self peeing into a cup at the doctor’s office. You knew you were pregnant, but the doctor wanted to verify before they did an ultrasound to see where you were at. Once you finished you closed up the little jar and left it not he shelf as instructed. You washed your hands and then scurried across the hall and back into your room to see Harry intently reading the poster on the wall abut pregnancy.
“You know you get super horny during the second trimester.” He said in amusement, “As if you needed any more of that while pregnant…greedy.” He mumbled with a grin and you chuckled.
“You’re dumb.” You said as you went back over to the bench and sat again. You dangled your feet back and forth for a bit before Harry came over.
“What’re you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that…this is fucking insane.” You chuckled.
“In a good way?”
“Yeah…bad too.” You hummed and he nodded and leaned in to kiss your cheek.
“It’s going to be just fine, baby.” He assured you right as the doctor knocked at the door. “Come in!” Harry called and soon the woman was coming in.
“Hello, Y/N!” Dr. Sallow greeted you sweetly, “Glad you’re back!” She said with glee and you smiled.
“Thank you.” You replied, “And ummm, this is Harry, my…partner.” You said and she turned to him and smiled.
“Harry, wonderful to meet you.” She smiled and extended her hand and they shook them quickly before she walked over to the screen. “So, you’re here because you are pregnant.” She said and you nodded, “I can confirm that.” She smiled and Harry squeezed your knee when you inhaled sharply. It sort of felt official now. “So we can definitely do an ultrasound if you’d like, the room is available. Or did you have other questions?” she asked.
“Definitely an ultrasound. Want to know how far along I am and that sort of thing.”
“I’d assume fairly early if you’re just noticing any symptoms, so don’t be too disappointed if we don’t see much of anything just yet.” She forewarned and you both nodded. “Alright, I’m gonna have nurse Debbie set up the room and then she’ll escort you over and we’ll get a look at you.”
“Thank you.” You smiled and soon she excused herself before fluttering off to her next patient. You only waited a couple of minutes before nurse Debbie came to escort you to the ultrasound room and got you all set up. Harry was practically bouncing beside you with anxiety as he waited. 
“Let me get the doctor.” Debbie said and hurried out. You glanced over to Harry.
“Hey, hold my hand.” You said and he dragged a chair over and interlocked your fingers. “I’m so excited to see.” You whispered and he grinned wide.
“Me too.” He confessed and you chuckled. “Maybe we…think a bit more about keeping it…” he suggested and you smiled a bit.
“Yeah? You mean it?” You asked softly and he nodded.
“I do, baby.” He smiled. 
A few moments later Dr. Sallow was announcing herself again before coming in. She explained the procedure and then got the gel on you before grabbing the camera and gliding it over your tummy, looking for the best spot.
“Oh…there we are.” she hummed and Harry immediately shot upon seeing the image projected on the screen.
“Oh my god…” he whispered as he squeezed your hand tight and you smiled up at him quickly before you both glanced back over to the screen.
“So that there is the head and the arms and legs…” she pointed out and shifted the angle, “Do you want to know the sex?” She asked as she turned to you and you chuckled.
“That’s…ummm, isn’t it a bit early to know that?” You asked her and she shook her head.
“Not at all, we can tell as early as 10 week if the position is right.” She explained and you’re heart stopped.
“And I’m already 10 weeks along?” You asked shakily as the realization of what this meant started to settle in. You felt Harry starting to pull his hand away from yours.
“Oh no, you’re more like 14 weeks, dear.” She said and that’s when Harry completely pulled away from you and you felt the air completely leave your lungs. You turned to him and he just clenched his jaw as he ran his fingers through the top of his hair. “So do you want to know?” She asked and you were so frozen that you nodded quickly as your eyes teared up. “It’s a girl.” She said with a smiled and you just nodded.
“That’s…that’s so great.” You whispered and then brought a hand up over your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound as started to cry. Dr. Sallow turned to you quickly with concern and then you felt Harry’s hand grab yours again. You turned towards him and saw he was crying too. “I’m sorry.” You whispered and he shook his head.
“We’ll talk about it.” He said to you softly and you nodded.
“Is everything alright?” Dr. Sallow asked and you sniffled.
“Sorry, yes. I just didn’t mean to say that.” You explained and she apologized but you assured her it was fine. 
You just wanted to get out of there… you were mortified. This wasn’t Harry’s baby and now you really had no idea what to do. You always used condoms with Steven, but now that you knew he was psycho, you had no doubt that he was capable of sabotaging you like this. More than anything you were so hurt and angry that he had taken this from you and Harry. For a second you almost turned and asked for an appointment for an abortion but you glanced at the screen and you were flooded with guilt for even thinking that.
“Ummm, I’d like to leave.” You said as you started to sit up and Dr. Sallow was quick to clean you off. Harry helped you off of the reclining seat and you were back on the road not even ten minutes later. 
You were just silent the whole way home, you felt like shit. You felt awful for getting Harry all excited only to know that this was not his child you were carrying. You were so confused right now, you almost wanted to pinch yourself and hope you woke up. You could feel Harry continuously glancing over at you but you couldn’t look at him. There was no way you could look at him after this. It was over between you two…there was no way you could ask him to stay with you after this. It wouldn’t be fair to him. When you got to the house you made it to the stairwell and plopped down as you started to sob violently.
You moved to the side when you saw Harry coming over, assuming he was just going to go up to the bedroom. But then he crouched down and sat a step above you and pulled you into him by the shoulders.
“It’s o-”
“Don’t say it’s okay.” You cut him off, “This is not okay.” You whispered sadly. “I hate Steven.” You seethed and he swallowed thickly as you started to sob and he pulled you closer and kissed the side of your head.
“I love you, okay? This doesn’t change that for me.” He said to you and you shook your head.
“I would never ask you or expect to stay. It’s not fair to you, Harry…” you said sadly, “I was about to tell Dr. Sallow that I wanted to abort but then I saw the screen again and I just…I don’t think I can do it. That’s like…a part of me too and I just…I don’t think I can go through with it.” You said again, sputtering on your tears. “If that means that we’re over, I get it. I totally understand it.” You sniffled.
Harry frowned deeply as he heard you say this. His heart was completely torn right now. He thought you were reacting this way because you were going to terminate the pregnancy upon finding out that it wasn’t your baby together. But hearing you say that you wouldn’t be able to do that, it made him so angry and so hurt. Despite his own feelings about this, he fully understood why changed your mind. After seeing the tiny little thing tucked inside of you his heart was in shambles too. He was fully ready to advocate for you guys keeping it, but hearing how far along you were, it completely shattered his heart. He felt physically ill as the moment replayed in his brain. You’d both slept with other people during your time apart, so he wasn’t angry at that, it was more that it was Steven’s. A man who had hurt you and disrespected you and that scared you. It made the hate he felt for him grow even more intense than it already was. He was livid, he could kill him for taking this from you two. Harry had to decide how he would proceed from here. You were fully prepared to leave him again in order to keep this baby and the thought of it put so much sorrow in his heart. He didn’t want to lose you.
The idea of leaving you and letting you do this all on your own made his sad. You didn’t deserve that. You deserved to have a good pregnancy, one that came with a supportive partner, someone to share the experience with. He wanted to be the person to be there for you but right now the thought of that little thing growing inside of you made his blood boil with hatred. He couldn’t think clearly in the slightest. 
“I ummm…I love you so much, baby. I just, I think I need some time t-to process this and just think about it all.” He said to you and you nodded. “I love you though. You know that right?” He asked and you nodded again as he kissed the side of your head.
“Love you too.” You whispered and he hummed. “Should I go for a couple of days?” You asked quietly.
“No, baby.” He said quietly, “You stay here and rest up.” He hummed lowly, “I think I’m gonna go up north and just spend a few days with my mum, clear my head, if that’s alright?” He asked. You wanted to say no, the last thing you wanted right now was to be all alone with this information. But you had no choice but to agree, you had just put him in the most impossible position and he deserved to have the space to think about it as calmly and comfortably as possible.
“Yeah, sure.” You whispered.
“Can I tell my mum?” He asked and you sighed.
“Why the fuck not…” You chuckled through your tears and he pouted.
“Hey, look at me.” He insisted, “I won’t if you don’t want me to, baby. This is about you, about your body. If you want me to keep it to myself I will.” He assured.
“Sorry. I’m just afraid that it’ll change how she feels about me.” You explained nervously. You’d had a wonderful relationship with Anne. You missed her wisdom and kindness and friendship during your time apart from Harry and hearing that another man had impregnated you, her son’s girlfriend, well you’d understand if it upset her. 
“No…I mean, things happen. Accidents happen.” He said and you shook your head.
“Baby, I-I don’t think this was accidental because we used a condom every single time. I’m certain of it!” You wept, “Like I’m not stupid, or careless like that.” You assured.
“You think he ruined the condoms?” He asked and you sighed as you recalled all of the overtly possessive things Steven had been saying to you during sex the last month or so that you had been together. Things about making you his forever, about giving him babies one day, making you a mom…you thought he was just introducing some of his preferences in bed with that kind of talk, but maybe it was more than that. 
“It’s very possible.” You said softly.
“Jesus…” he shook his head, “How fucked up was this guy?” He asked you and you shrugged.
“I never saw that side of him before all of this.” You said and Harry sighed and nodded. After a moment of silence he cleared his throat.
“Ummm…I’m just gonna pack and head out soon, want to avoid that rush hour traffic near Birmingham.” He said and you nodded. 
He stood up and then offered to help you stand as well before you guys went up to the room. You sat on the bed as you watched him pack a couple days worth of clothes. You wanted to ask him to stay, but you couldn’t be that selfish. This was the least you could do for him after that a-bomb was just dropped on him. Not to mention the a-bomb you’d just dumped on him too. When he finished packing up his bag he went over and kissed you quickly.
“I’m not running away from you, okay? I just need to clear my head.” He reassured you, his words were mumbled against your forehead before he kissed you there, “I love you so much.” He whispered before kissing your lips.
“Love you.” You mumbled, “Text when you get there, yeah?”
“I will, baby.” He assured.
“Be safe.”
“Always.” He hummed before he bid you farewell once more before he left. 
Once you heard him pull out of the driveway you just curled up on your side and started to cry. This couldn’t be real…there was no way this could be real. You felt completely defeated. The only thing you could think that made you happy was that you never wanted Steven to know about this, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You had no idea how that would go down with your child in the future, but right now you wanted him not to know a single thing about you ever again. After coming to that conclusion you ended up calling your mom and telling her everything that happened. You talked and cried for nearly an hour before she had to go, but not without promising she’d call again and chat the next day in order to keep you some company, even from afar. 
After that you decided to draw yourself a warm and relaxing bath, that always made you feel so calm. So you started out on that, letting your bath bomb melt in the warm water as you made yourself a nice cup of tea, your last caffeinated one for the foreseeable future, and then got inside.
*****************
Harry had been driving up the M1 motorway for a bit before he quickly texted his mum his ETA. This caused her to call him right away and ask what this surprise visit was about, but he couldn’t speak when he answered her call. He just sobbed, he sobbed for nearly 15 minutes before he shared what had happened that morning at the doctor’s office. He explained everything he was feeling, even the bad things he was thinking, but the one thing that kept coming up was how much he loved you.
“I love her so much but I just don’t think I could get past the fact that, that prick is the baby’s dad…I cannot for the life of me sit with that information and not become enraged by it.” He said, it pained him to spare Steven a thought.
“D-do you feel angry at Y/N for being with him?” She asked and he frowned.
“No/ It’s not like I didn’t see other people but I hate that she thinks that I couldn’t be with her after this. Like, I think about letting her go, like she’s saying, and it absolutely guts me.” He explained. “And like…I feel bad that it crossed my mind at some point, but not for the reasons you might think, it’s just that I don’t know i-if I am even prepared to take that role on.” He sniffled.
“No one ever is, even when it’s meticulously planned, H.” She reasoned and he sighed,
“Are you concerned about him wanting to come back into her life?” She asked and he nodded.
“Yeah…a bit.” He admitted, “I mean, I don’t think he’s the type to take any accountability for his actions but if he finds out about it he’s so arrogant that he might want to just to make her uncomfortable. I mean, Y/N thinks it may have been deliberate because she said she always made sure t-to use protection. I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that, the man was completely mad.” He shared and his mum hummed in understanding.
“Well sweetheart, it doesn’t sound to me like you’re all that conflicted. It sounds to me like you don’t want to end things with her.”
“Of course not! But what if I…what I can’t love that baby as much since I now know this?” He asked.
“I-is that what’s holding you back?” She asked and he hummed on confirmation. He felt like a complete prick saying that but he was legitimately concerned about this. What if you went on to have your own kids together and it just changed something in him? What if he was open to being with you now but then changed his mind? What if he saw Steven every time he saw that baby and only felt anger instead of love? The chances of something like this happening were extremely low, practically non-existent, but not 0%. And in the end he would hurt you and that baby even more if he walked out because one of these things happened.
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you will love her just fine, H. You know why?” She asked and he hummed, “Because out of everyone in the world you know the impact that one incredible and dedicated man can have on a child.” She said and he sniffled, “You’ve seen for yourself that a biological connection is not needed to give someone unconditional love and support. You’re lucky, you got that from two fathers.” She said and he smiled.
“Yeah.” He whispered.
“I’m not saying that it won’t be scary and difficult at times t-to do this, but it can also be extremely beautiful and rewarding. You’re both such wonderful people that if you decided to stay and do this together you could impact that child’s life for the better, just like yours was.” 
“Right…” he said softly
“And well, honestly sweetheart, these concerns you have, they’re things you need to figure out with Y/N. She will listen to you, H. I mean, if you’re feeling this conflicted about things I can’t image how she must be feeling now.” she said with sympathy and when he saw himself nearing Birmingham he felt awful. It got as bad as him feeling sick to his stomach as he pictured your fearful and distraught face back in the bedroom. He’d done it again, he’d left you hanging at a time when you needed his love and support the most. He loved you so much, he could not believe he’d left you alone in that state. And in two seconds he started to signal to get off of the motorway.
“Mum, I ummm…I need to go back and be with, Y/N.” He decided, “I shouldn’t have left here there by herself after everything she had to hear today…I’d be surprised if she was still there after I just walked out…fuck!” He groaned in frustration.
“H, she loves you so much.”
“I love her too…why do I keep doing the wrong thing and hurting her?” He cried now as he got off at the next exit. He was waiting for the traffic to clear before he could make his turn to turn around.
“I think it kind of scares you, how much you love her. And I think in a way you might feel like you could lose her, so you pull back regardless of how that might make her feel. It’s self preservation.” She explained and he swallowed thickly. Hearing this helped him mentally decide that he wasn’t going to run any more, after everything he’d done you’d given him another chance regardless of the possibility of him hurting you again. This was his chance to show you that his love for you was bigger than everything else. “Don’t be afraid to open your heart, sweetheart.” She added and he hummed.
“Alright, thank you for listening. I’m just gonna call Dr. A and ummm…hopefully sort some mental things out before I get back to Y/N.” He said.
“Okay, bub. Be safe, please let me know when you’re home safe. I love you.”
“Love you.” He mumbled before he hung up and got back onto the motorway but heading back towards the South. He wasn’t going to do the same thing again and leave all alone to guess just how much he loved you, not this time. He was going to be there for you and support you and love you both.
*****************
It was a bit odd to you when you heard the large gate to Harry’s house opening up. But then you recalled that sometimes his PA would do errands that required him to come to the house. So you just got out of the tub quickly and rinsed your body off in the shower before getting into your robe in case he came upstairs for any reason. You were just getting one of Harry’s hoodies when you heard his voice.
“Baby? Are you still here?” He called out as you heard the front door shut heavily against the frame. You hurried into the yoga pants you’d grabbed and rushed out to see him coming up the stairs. 
“You came back.” You sighed in relief as he hurried up and he just pulled you right into his arms and you started to cry.
“I’m so sorry. I should never have left you like this, baby.” He sniffled as he kissed your head over and over again. “I love you so much. I love you so fucking much.” He assured you. “I’m not leaving you alone with this, baby.” He said to you and you pulled back a bit to look at him.
“What do you…mean by that?”
“It means that we’re doing this together.” He said to you and you shook your head.
“I can’t…I couldn’t do that to you.” You said to him and he shook his head.
“You’re not doing anything to me, baby. If you’re keeping this baby I am choosing to do this with you. I know it’s going to be hard but I will be there for you every step of the way and love our little babygirl with everything I am. I love you far too much to not see this through with you.” He said and you just broke down and hugged him tight.
You had no words, there was just joy. You knew this would be hard and challenging and even sad at times, but he’d come back to you and he wanted you to stay with him.
“I love you so much, H.” You finally whispered before kissing his lips.
“You’re everything to me, baby. We’re gonna get through this.” He smiled and you smiled.
“Promise?”
“I promise.” He smiled, “It was actually my mum who reminded me that biology had nothing to do with being a great father, so…she doesn’t hate you.” He said and you chuckled through your tears.
“Good, that would’ve definitely been the worst outcome.” You said jokingly and he smiled. “And look, I know that there are a lot of logistics and other things to discuss and I’m still sorting through that mentally, s-so if you can just be a little patient with me while I…get that together in my head I would really appreciate that. I’m still processing that there’s a little person forming in there and it’s kind of…freaky.” You said as you looked up into his eyes and he sputtered on a laugh. You frowned at his reaction, “What?”
“I thought you were going to say it was magical or amazing, not freaky.” He giggled and you did as well. 
“Oh…well, I…I don’t feel…happy about it yet.” You confessed to him and this brought on a fresh wave of tears, “I feel like shit about that. Like I’m gonna be a mom, I should be happy, not freaked out, shouldn’t I?” You asked him.
“Not necessarily. You can feel however you want about it, baby.” He assured you, “Especially in this situation, it’s come as a surprise to you. I don’t judge you at all for not feeling happy about this yet, baby.”
“Promise?”
“I swear it.” He promised before pecking your lips again quickly.
“Thank you.” You whispered and he nodded and smile at you.
“Wanna do something to take your mind off of things for a bit?” He asked.
“Like what?”
“We can…sort through the pantry and fridge and see what foods you’ll have an aversion to?” He offered and you smiled and shook your head at his bizarre, yet completely productive suggestion. “I see you trying to hold back your smile.” He teased and you finally gave in.
“That’s the wildest but most genius thing you’ve ever suggested.” You giggled.
“I know. Imagine how smart our kid’s gonna be?! We’ve got this in the bag.” He said confidently.
“You think so?” You asked and he nodded.
“With you as her mum, I know so.” He smiled.
…. 1 YEAR LATER ….
You woke up feeling completely refreshed and renewed. It was absolutely quiet in the house and it was strange to wake up in silence. When you rolled over and looked at your phone you saw it was nearly 10am and shot out of bed. You had no idea how you’d slept in that much! The baby needed to be fed and changed! You hurried over to the nursery already thinking up an apology in your head for Ellie. But when you made it into the nursery it was empty. Harry had some work to do for Pleasing today so you knew he’d be out. Maybe he called someone to come look after the baby? When you passed by his home studio on the way to the kitchen you heard his voice along with others, so you knocked on the door.
“Come in!” He called quickly and you peeked inside and immediately smiled when you saw Harry spin around in the chair with Elara sitting on his lap, she was literally just chilling there while she drooled all over one of the newer nail polishes Pleasing would release soon. He smiled at you over the sounds of whoever was speaking right now. “Hey guys, are we good for today or is there anything else we needed to go over?” He asked with a smile as you waved from the background.
“We’re all good!” You heard and then heard the multiple voices bidding farewell to you and baby Elara before he hung up.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You said to him as you walked into the room to grab her from him.
“It’s alright, baby, we were just chatting a bit.” He assured you, “Weren’t we?” He asked the baby who just ignored him to keep attempting to bite the bottle in her hands before he started to rub at her back.
“I know you had work, you should’ve woken me up.” You said as you kissed his head.
“No way.” He chuckled, “You know, you slept through two whole alarms, you clearly needed the rest. I thought you were dead for second there.” He said with grin and you tutted.
“Don’t even say that.” You scolded.
“You’re right, sorry. Bad joke.” He corrected himself, “But really, my love, I don’t mind doing these launch plan meetings online, it’s none of the fun stuff so.” He shrugged and you smiled, “Besides when I have Ellie on camera everyone is so obsessed with her little smile that they’re so agreeable, so it’s a win-win.” He chuckled and you smirked.
“God forbid the paps see her and exploit her for money, but her own father is exploiting her cuteness for sway in the board room.” You said with a grin and he chuckled.
“Hey, she likes hearing all the commotion too.” He added and you smiled before kissing the top of her head and she sighed and laid over his chest making you both coo. “She finally slept through the night. Sorry you missed it.” He said softly and you chuckled.
“I’m sorry you’re so used to waking up to her crying that you noticed!” You giggled as you raked your fingers through his curls easily and he hummed.
“I don’t mind it. Reminds me that this little cutie is finally here.” He said and you smiled at how sweet he was with her.
“I can’t believe she’ll be six whole months tomorrow.” You said in disbelief.
“I know…S’your half birthday, bub.” He said to her and she just blinked tiredly, "She’s perfect though, isn’t she? Your little twin.” He hummed with pride as he looked down at her and then at you again. You nodded and watched him with her for a few moments.
Harry had nothing but love for baby Elara. He adored her completely. He almost felt silly for being so worried that he wouldn’t bond with her as genuinely as if she were his biological daughter. Once he saw you starting to show and you guys started shopping for the nursery, and picking out baby names, every ounce of doubt he had melted away. That was his daughter in every sense of the word. He had so much love for the both of you that he felt like his heart would burst sometimes.
“I love you so much.” You said to him and he glanced up at you.
“More than Ellie?” He smirked and you chuckled.
“The same, I think.” You hummed and he looked surprised.
“Oh wow, I was expecting a firm no.” He laughed.
“Oh my god…I love you both. It’s a bit different for sure but I somehow get it all to fit in my heart.” You said and he smiled as he stood up.
“Look at her, she’s about to pass out again.” He said as he looked down at the baby.
“I think we should get her back in the crib and have a cuddle. We can watch that show you’ve been pestering me about.” He suggested
“Love is Blind?” You gasped and he nodded. 
Soon enough you had washed your face and brushed your teeth, as you did every morning, all while Harry got Ellie down. But he soon joined you in bed as you waited for him to return. He climbed into the bed beside you and like a magnet, you immediately scooted right up against him and kissed him gently, it caught him by surprise.
“Thank you for letting me sleep in, baby. That was exquisite.” You confessed and he smiled and pecked your lips again.
“Of course, baby. Anytime.” He smiled. “I do have a question for you though…when are we going to have another baby?” He asked you and you giggled.
“Ummm, ask me in a year!” You laughed.
“A year?” He scoffed.
“Hey, it’s hard work!” You added and he smiled.
“Yeah, but it’s so worth it, isn’t it?” He asked with a smile and you sighed happily at his response.
“Yeah…” you hummed, “It’s all worth it.” You smiled.
“Our little family makes me so happy, I just want one more.” He said and you glanced into his eyes.
“Just one more.” You agreed and he chuckled.
“Yeah, just one.” He assured you, “So in a year I’ll ask again, okay?”
“Okay.” You sniggered and kissed him quickly again before you got the show going.
You were explaining a little bit about why you were suddenly so interested in this show without trying to give away too much of what you knew had gone down, thanks to your friends and social media. He easily got sucked into the narrative and when you both started commenting as you watched on you just got so happy that you could share something so simple together and then also something as huge and serious as a baby. It made your tummy flutter and swirl with love for him and you then realized that maybe it would be less than a year before you’d be trying for another baby and you were perfectly alright with that.
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venus-haze · 2 months ago
Text
Reach Out, Touch Faith (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)
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Summary: Day 22 - Thigh Riding. Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No spoilers for the show in this fic. I finally caught up on Grotesquerie and had to write something for Father Charlie! Shoutout to @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok for even putting this show on my radar. Title comes from Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.
Word count: 1.1k
Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving a member of the clergy, thigh riding, some degradation.
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Only Father Charlie could walk the line between a wet dream and a saint. You found this out rather quickly after becoming a parishioner. It’d been years since you went to church, but moving to the small town offered little in the way of a social life outside of work, so you swallowed your pride and began showing up to mass, and then getting involved in everything from the soup kitchen to movie nights. He didn’t judge you when you admitted you were there to make friends. In fact, he encouraged it.
“People feel increasingly isolated these days,” he had told you. “The church used to be a place for people to meet and make connections, I’m glad it’s serving you that way. Gives me hope for the future of our parish.”
After just a few weeks, people actually got to know you, to the point where you were invited to get coffee with some or join others for dinner. But in your heart, you knew you were mostly showing up for Father Charlie. Especially since he followed you on Instagram, and you almost considered softblocking him so he couldn’t see what you were up to. Morbid curiosity got the better of you, and you followed him back, dragged to the depths your desire by the videos of him exercising on his feed—his toned muscles flexing, skin glimmering with sweat. Your hand flew to your mouth when he squirted water from a bottle on himself. What the fuck kind of priest even did that?
You could hardly look him in the eye the next time you saw him. When he cornered you after a book club meeting, it was almost like he knew.
“You know, for everything you’re involved in, all of the meetings and events you show up to, I’ve never had you for confession,” he said.
It was the way he said it—had you—that made you take pause. As if his being a priest obscured something close to lust, almost implied consummation.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to know who’s confessing,” you said.
“I’d know your voice.”
“I guess I’m just scared, Father.”
“Of what? God’s judgment?” he asked. “He’s merciful if you bring your sins to Him.”
“More along the lines of what you’ll think of me.”
He smiled. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”
“God, no!”
“Well, there’s blasphemy,” he joked. “Come by tomorrow at seven. No one else will be here. No pressure.”
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Sitting in the confessional almost made you feel claustrophobic. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you folded them across your lap, waiting for Father Charlie to speak from the other side of the screen.
“How long has it been since your last confession?”
You paused, trying to remember an exact date, but nothing came to mind. “A few years, probably.”
“That’s alright. What sins do you bring forward today?”
“I don’t know,” you lied.
“You don’t know?” he repeated incredulously.
“No. I can’t think of anything.”
He scoffed. You could practically see the sneer on his face through the screen. “I can list off some. Pride, selfishness, leading others into temptation—do you have any idea what you’re capable of doing? The depths you can cause a man to sink to? The sins of the flesh proliferate every aspect of our modern lives and you—you just—”
“Father?”
After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke your name softly. “I want you to leave the confessional. If there’s no one around, come over to my side.”
“What?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Against your better judgment, you left the confessional and rounded it to the other side. When you opened the door, he looked at you expectantly, curling his pointer and index fingers to beckon you inside.
You hesitated. Almost took a step back, except he reached for you, pulling you in with him. If you thought it was claustrophobic before, your body, cramped in so closely with his, would have been enough to make you anxious on its own, but the proximity, his body heat, his dark brown eyes blazing with a vengeful lust, drew a whine from you when you were maneuvered onto his lap, one of his thick thighs between your legs. You suddenly wished you hadn’t worn a skirt—knee-length, modest enough when you picked it out, but woefully inadequate for the way his hand slipped up it, his fingers brushing your pussy through your panties.
“You should be ashamed of yourself, dripping with arousal in the house of the Lord.”
Rage filled your chest at his taunt. “You have some fucking nerve to accuse me,” you hissed. “Your socials are shameless. I almost thought I was on OnlyFans, the way you flaunt yourself.”
“But you liked what you saw, didn’t you?” he pressed. “Why else would you have come to confession if not for your guilty conscience?” He flexed his muscular thigh beneath you, a pathetic sounding whimper echoing from your lips in the confessional. “Unless you’re only chasing lust, that fleeting, deadly sin.”
“For the love of God, put up or shut up,” you snapped.
He was at a loss for words, then, and letting your pride get the better of you, you kissed him—claiming him was more like it, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip until he shivered beneath you. 
Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you rocked your hips back and forth against his thigh, the friction from the fabric teasing your clit so perfectly, you couldn’t help the cry that tore from your throat until he silenced you with his mouth on yours. Sweat rolled down your back at your exertion, making your blouse stick to your skin, the confessional almost suffocatingly hot.
“Is this what you had in mind, Father?” you mocked, your voice husky and almost cruel, though you knew if anyone walked in, they’d be able to hear. Wouldn’t take very long for a keen listener to figure out what was going on. “Is this my penance?”
“God, yes,” he groaned, his strong hands kneading your ass.
You chased your orgasm, finally finding it when he moaned your name in your ear like a prayer. Rode out your ecstasy on his thigh, a sick thrill rushing through you at the thought of the wet spot you’d leave on his pants, the physical evidence of your debauchery, if the only witness to it was the ever-silent, omnipresent, judging eyes of God.
“Is that all, Father?” you asked breathlessly, glancing down at the prominent tent in his pants.
With a shaky sigh, he leaned his head back, palming his crotch. “Go—go say ten Hail Marys.” 
When you knelt down at the pew just outside of the confessional, you began the first of your penitent prayers with the sound of his groans and soft curses echoing in your ears.
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