#and so now i’m double fucking anxious and double fucking pissed off

[joe-spookyy]

omg i #cant even! does this:

[p0orbaby]

Mission Impossible

summary: you’re an agent at the top of your game, until a certain footballer distracts you

warnings: SMUT 18+, semi public (car), fingering, top!leah, dirty talk?

a/n: thanks for the request ! this was super fun to write

word count: 2.2k

-

“Remember to mute yourself if you go to the toilet, yeah?” your new technician's voice crackles through the earpiece you’d pay your life’s savings not to have to wear.

“You do know who you’re talking to, right?”

“Of course! The female version of double oh seven, duh. This is like, super cool that I’ve been assigned to you, by the way”

You roll your eyes and tap your fingers impatiently against the steering wheel of your car. “It’s my pleasure”

“But seriously, not to tell you what to do or anything but, please mute if you need to go potty. It’s just that I’ve got PTSD from the last agent because they-“

“Can you reroute me? This traffic is starting to piss me off and I’ve got a finite amount of time to, you know, do my job”

“Right, right,” he stammers. You hear the rapid clicking of keys over the comms. “Okay, take the next left and then a right at the lights. Should get you there faster”

“Thanks.” You sigh, flicking on your turn signal. The city lights blur past as you navigate the winding roads, every rev of your engine a reminder of the ticking clock. Or was that your indicator? Who knows, who cares?

“You nervous?” the technician, Mikey? asks, trying to make small talk. “I mean, it’s a big deal, right? Going undercover at something like this?”

“Nervous? No. Anxious to get out of this car? Absolutely,” you reply. The GPS recalculates, leading you into a quieter, more upscale part of the city. The kind of place where people hide secrets behind perfectly manicured lawns and pristine facades.

“Just remember,” he continues, his tone growing serious, “we’re here if you need anything. But you’ve got this. You always do”

“Thanks for the pep talk, Coach,” you say dryly, but there’s a hint of a smile on your lips at his compliment. “I’m pulling up now. Keep the channel clear unless it’s an emergency”

“Roger that. Good luck”

-

You hated places like this. Sure it’s probably the attendees' tax contributions who pay the bulk of your wages, but still. Everything is always so uptight, stiff, dry as hell.

“Tell me again why I had to wear a fucking dress” you say to yourself really, but you get a response because of you damn earpiece.

“Because as progressive as the world has become, a woman in a suit doesn’t really slide in environments like this”

You scoff, readjusting the strap of your gown. “I might put in a formal complaint. Undue distress in the workplace,” you mutter, weaving through the crowd. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the low hum of forced laughter.

“Just focus on the task at hand,” Mark? reminds you. “You’re looking for a woman in a blue dress, diamond necklace. Shouldn’t be hard to miss”

“Got it,” you reply, scanning the room. You catch glimpses of the high-profile guests, all engaged in their own worlds, oblivious to the undercurrents of deception that flow just beneath the surface.

You make your way to the bar, figuring it’s as good a place as any to start. You signal the bartender for a drink, something that will keep your hands busy without dulling your senses. As you wait, you let your eyes roam, taking in every detail, every potential threat.

“Remember,” Martins’? voice buzzes in your ear, “you’re just here to observe and gather intel. No heroics”

“Yeah, yeah,” you murmur, taking a sip of your drink. “Not my first rodeo, Champ”

What was with this kid?

A flash of blue catches your eye from across the room. You spot her, the woman you’re supposed to meet, gliding through the crowd with a grace that seems almost practiced. She pauses, scanning the room much like you did, and for a moment, her eyes meet yours.

You offer a slight nod, the briefest acknowledgment, before turning your attention back to your drink. No need to rush things. Timing is everything when it comes to these types of things.

“You look as bored as I feel”

A voice, smooth and unexpectedly unpretentious, cuts through your thoughts. You turn to find someone standing next to you, not in a dress, but in a sharp, tailored gray suit that makes her stand out in the sea of gowns and black tuxedos.

You muster a wry smile. “Is it that obvious?”

The blonde laughs softly, the sound genuine and easy. “Maybe just a little”. It’s her turn to gesture to the bartender. What gets placed in front of her is a tumbler of whiskey, dark and golden and a stark contrast to the champagne all the other women seem to be sipping on. “I’m Leah, by the way”

“Olivia,” you reply, shaking the confident hand she has extended for you. “First time at one of these?”

Leah shrugs, a casual gesture that is not encouraged at finishing school. She doesn’t belong here, you deduce. “Not quite. They get less and less interesting every time. You?”

“I’ve been to a few here and there,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “But really it’s a bit of a social experiment for me”

Leah grins, leaning against the bar. “A social experiment, huh? Sounds like you’re a people-watcher”

“You could say that,” you reply, glancing over the room again. Your blue woman is nowhere to be seen. “You can learn a lot about someone by how they navigate a room like this”

“True enough,” Leah says, her eyes raking over the crowd. “But mostly, you just learn who’s got the best bullshit and who can fake a smile the longest”

You laugh over the rim of your own glass. You’ve gone for vodka on the rocks. Clear liquids are recommended. “You’ve got a point there”

“I’m not just a pretty face”

Maybe she wasn’t, but she did in fact have a pretty face, that much was obvious. Those blue eyes. No, green eyes? Wait, was she talking to you? No, but she is smirking. Smirking at you like she knew all your deepest darkest secrets. Perhaps she did. Perhaps she can see right through you as you stand here staring at her like she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N, focus”. Your conscience is talking to you again. “You haven’t got all night, remember”

You clear your throat, down your drink and ask for another.

“So, what does Leah do other than being a frequent goer of boring events, and a smart ass?”

She laughs and you feel it fizz through your body. “Oh, you know, a bit of this, a bit of that. Mostly kick a ball across some grass and hope it hits the target”

“Football?”

She nods. “Looks like you’re not just a pretty face either”

You’re about to respond, unsure of what you’re actually going to say as your brain has shortcurited, when a butter knife is tapped against the side of a glass.

“Looks like dinner’s ready” Leah whispers in your ear. “Where are you sitting?”

“Table four” you respond as you watch everyone start to move around the room.

“Well, unfortunately for you you can’t be rid of me just yet”

-

This doesn’t happen.

You don’t do this.

You’re a professional, the best in the field, so why are you half naked in the back of your car?

“Look at you, look at how wet you are” Leah sighs as she cocks her head, looking at how you’ve exposed yourself to her.

Your mind is gone. Off into the stratosphere never to return. Partly because you broke your very stringent rule of not drinking too much on the job, and partly because you need her to touch you. Now. Which she is not granting you the pleasure of doing.

You whimper pathetically when her palms splay on the inners of your thighs. Warm and large and calloused. She’s not a keeper, you've found out, so you only suspect the coarseness of her skin if from when she grips around weights in the gym.

If her forearms are anything to go by, your suspicions would be correct.

“Leah, please”

“What do you want, hm?” She asks, cocky in a way that heats your skin. “Tell me what you want and I might just give it to you”

She leans forward and presses tortured kisses against your jaw. Bruising you, no doubt. But that is a problem you will deal with later.

“You” you say, strained and desperate as her breath tickles you and forces goosebumps to ripple over your skin.

“You can do better than that” she teases.

Sighing, you muster the strength to speak more than one word at a time. “I want your fingers”

“Fuck, sweetheart” is all she says before she’s peeling herself off of you, rolling her sleeves up further past her elbows, and to your shock, sticking her fingers in her mouth.

The first touch almost has you combusting on the spot. She knows what she’s fucking doing. The suit should’ve been a giveaway. The whiskey a second chance for you to catch on. But you had a job to do, your mind was elsewhere, until it wasn’t.

You did in fact get your intel, and now you’re getting your reward.

Leah works painfully slow. Her experienced fingers rubbing lazy circles against your clit. She’s testing you, or she is making the most of your time together. Whatever she’s doing it’s making you that impatient that your hips buck involuntarily in response.

“You like that? You like it when I touch you?”

“Leah, for the love of god, hurry up”

She laughs then. Soft and sweet as if she’s not got your dress tucked up under your chin, or that a film of her saliva is covering the most intimate parts of you.

“You ready, baby?”

So fucking ready.

You nod, and she smirks again. Smug cow.

Her left hand finds your leg once more, but this time she wraps her fingers around the underside of your knee and pushes. Opening you up and keeping you where she wants you. It’s her right hand that gets to work between your thighs.

She pushes a solitary index finger in first. With little resistance with your own doing and her spit making the job easy enough.

“Oh fuck” you whine. “Jesus fucking Christ”

“Saying the lord's name in vain? I must be doing a good job” she snickers.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up and make me cum already”

To Leah’s credit, she is very good at fulfilling instructions. At least after a time. You think she’s had enough of toying with you and is actually looking forward to having her way with you now. Which you couldn’t be happier about if you tried.

Her finger slips in and out of you at a pace that has you teetering on the edge. Not quite enough to push you off. Which she must realise by the way your nails dig into the skin of those amazing forearms of hers. She is quick to change tactics.

Two fingers now, and you feel deliciously full. She has perfect fingers, you think behind the haze of your lust. Just the right length to hit that spot within you that has you reeling.

“Keep going” you beg, rolling your hips to meet each thrust. “I’m close”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

“Uh huh” you breathe, nodding as you feel your insides tense up, the line ready to snap.

Which it does when her thumb finds your neglected clit. And the rest is history.

Your whole body goes up in flames. Seeing stars as your legs shake and the coil in your belly snaps at last.

“You’re so pretty,” Leah says. You think. The sound of blood rushing past your ears makes it hard to distinguish your moans from anything else. “Look at you, does that feel good?”

You can’t nod, you can’t speak. But fuck yes it does. And she knows it because even as you start to come down from the highest of highs, she leans down to capture your cries with her mouth. Keeping them for herself and her fingers curl gently inside you to ease you back to reality.

“You’re amazing,” she whispers, her voice a calming balm in the aftermath of everything. She shifts slightly, withdrawing her fingers carefully and wipes them on the leg of her suit trousers. Just breathe,” she murmurs, her breath tickling your ear. “I’ve got you”

You close your eyes, letting the remnants of your climax pulse through your body as you try to regain your composure. Something that you don’t misplace often.

“That was-“

“Better than the cheese boards they were going to force down our necks? I agree” she finishes for you as she leans back, finds her discarded shout jacket, and uses it to wipe you clean.

“Something like that” you say, your voice rough around the edges.

Leah straightens up, her eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place. “So, do I get your number, or do I have to crash another shitty event to see you again?”

You chuckle, stretching over to the glovebox. You pull out a sleek, plain business card with just a number printed on it and hand it to her. “Here. Use it wisely”

Leah takes the card, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. She leans in, pressing a dirty, lingering kiss against your lips. “Until next time, Olivia,” she murmurs against your mouth before pulling away and stepping out of the car.

As you watch her walk away, a crackle sounds through straight into your brain, followed by Mitch’s! disgusted voice. “Oh my God, I told you to turn off your fucking earpiece!”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Maybanks sister

Series masterlist, previous chapter

Chapter 6- you don’t need him

Summary: jj is struggling with the guilt he faces, Rafe and you help each other get through everything as always, and when Jj comes to apologize at tannyhill, how does Rafe feel?

Warnings: small short description of psychical abuse, slightly toxic!rafe, maybe ooc!jj?

“Dad! Dad-“ you shouted, desperately trying to get him off of your brother. Your shout was gut wrenching, your voice cracking and your eyes full of tears.

You finally managed to get him off, and you saw Jj staring at you, his face bloodied. His eyes struggling to stay open.

“Oh my God… Look what you fucking did! Look!” You cried, quickly getting down onto your knees next to JJ, ignoring your father behind you telling you he’s not worth it.

“It’s okay, JJ. It’s okay. You’re fine.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, wiping away the blood on his cheek and the drool that fell when his mouth hung open.

Your tears fell onto JJ, the memory forever engraved into yours and his brain. He was only 15 at that point, it was his birthday. You were 17.

You’d always protected him, always. He felt a strong sense of regret, having to fight the urge to turn back and come back to you, telling you he’s sorry. He was pulled out of the memory when someone came up behind him, a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay, man?” John B asked him, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Rafe took you to Tannyhill, the ride was quiet the whole way.

And when he got there, Ward was standing outside, police cars and boats around.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked back at Rafe. He held out an arm, telling you to stay in the car for a moment.

“I just saw Sarah.” Ward told him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The next days, during the sentencing for John B, you and Rafe stayed in. He had become anxious, and you were the one to calm him down every time.

He had gotten to the point of multiple panic attacks, asking questions like what if they found out or what if they caught him.

“They won’t. They won’t, Rafe.” You whispered quietly, your hands on his face, and your eyes searching his. He looked down, shaking his head to himself.

When you saw the news that John B was captured and in prison, it had calmed Rafe down a bit. But a part of you felt bad.

That was your brothers friend, your brothers friend who you practically watched grow up with him, your brothers friend who had a crush on you in his awkward acne and braces phase.

You knew that JJ was planning a way to get him out.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

“-They’re gonna eject you to the hospital. You remember cousin Ricky?”

“Cousin Ricky, the weed dealer?”

“He’s an EMT.”

“He sold us our first dime bag.”

“So? You can do both. Gig economy, bro.”

“Jesus.” John B sighed.

“Okay, but step 3 is extraction-“ Jj continued his plan.

“Times up.” Plumb spoke, interrupting the two.

“Yes, ma’am. You gotta trust me on this one.” Jj said, staring at John B. “Nothing to lose now. Eleven PM.” He stood up, and walked out.

He heard talking, when he suddenly saw a familiar face. He turned back, doing a double take, he stared out at the window, stepping closer.

He watched his father play basketball, and began banging on the door.

“Dad! Dad!”

“Let’s go.” Plumb said, grabbing him.

“Dad!”

“Let’s go.” She repeated, peeling him away from the window.

He turned back, his jaw clenched as he walked.

“I see what you did there, Plumb.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Rafe was speaking to his dad in the living room while you sat on the bed, texting back with your cousin.

You decided to tell him that Luke was in prison. He wasn’t very surprised. And somehow the topic went back to Jj.

“He’s an asshole, you know how he is.”

“I feel bad, tho.” You typed.

“Don’t feel bad, He’ll come back, I mean what’d you do for him to get pissed at you?”

“Pretty bad shit.”

“He’s always off doing pretty bad shit anyways. He’ll come back to you.”

“Hope so. Thanks Ricky.” You typed,

“Anytime.”

You shut off your phone, staring at the ceiling for a moment before you heard something hit the window. A rock.

You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your body, then standing up and looking out to see a small figure in the yard. Was that…

“Jj?” You mumbled to yourself, opening up the window. He waved.

“Jesus Christ.” You groaned, shutting the window and quickly gathering your stuff, and heading downstairs.

You opened and shut the door quietly, stepping outside and seeing JJ.

“What the fuck do you want, JJ?” You asked him, walking towards him. He stood, staring at you and back at the house behind you.

His hands were shoved in his pockets.

“You know dads in jail?”

“Yeah… so what?” You told him.

“And you didn’t think to tell me…?”

“I wanted to, J, but I couldn’t have-“

“Why? Why couldn’t you have, y/n?” His voice raising, you put your hand over his mouth.

“If any one of them hear you they’re gonna be fucking pissed. C’mon.” You mumbled, walking away from the house, but he stood there.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked again.

“Because, I thought you would blame me. I just found out not that long ago, and I didn’t know how to tell you.” You spoke, your back to him. You turned around now.

“I wouldn’t have blamed you.”

“Is that why you came? To just say that?”

“No. I’m sorry. I- I said some shit back at the dock… shit I didn’t mean…” he paused. “And I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widened at his words. It was rare for him to apologize like this. It was silent for a little.

“You have to get it, that I just… why him?” He asked, referring to Rafe.

“Because he’s the one who was there for me when no one else was. He was there for me when you weren’t.”

He stayed quiet now.

“But I get why you weren’t. Looking back at it, I haven’t treated you the best either. You’re my younger brother. And I should have protected you more-“

“Don’t.” He spoke up, quietly. “You did-“

“Well, what do we have here? Maybank, don’t you know you’re trespassing?” Rafes voice interrupted, stepping down to the both of you.

You both turned around at the voice.

“I was just on my way, cupcake.” He clicked his teeth, and turned around.

Rafe was behind him quickly, a hand on his shoulder, tightly gripping it.

“Don’t come near here again.” He whispered into his ear. “I will fucking shoot you on sight.”

“Mmm.. I’ll look forward to it. I would love to stay and join your tea party… but I have some other shit to get to.”

“You have some nerve showing up here, JJ.” He shouted when he began to walk away, Jj flipping him off from behind his back.

“Rafe, he was just-“ you began.

“Do I need to remind you that he was the one who made you cry like a fuckin’ baby the other day?” He turned to you now.

You were taken aback at his words. Stepping back as he walked towards you.

“I told you, you don’t need him. Or anyone else.”

“He’s my brother, Rafe…”

“And when has he ever done anything good for you?”

You stayed silent. He walked closer, a small sigh escaping his mouth. You slightly flinched when his hands went up. They made their way to your face, cupping it.

“I’m just trying to protect you, baby. Don’t want you getting anymore hurt than you already have been by him, or anyone else.”

—

Taglist:

@cassie0sstuff

@rafesgiirl

@fals3-g0d

@tiaamberxx

@callsignwidow

[writingsfromhome]

If you Love Something II

A/N: okayy I’m finally going to stop overthinking and just post this one. Please note the tw in part 1. Thank you all SO much for the comments and love on the original…hope this one meets ur expectations. It’s definitely more focused on the lost daughter relationship rather than you and Harry so p dense but...here it is 🫣

——————————————

Age 36:

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Harry informs me over the phone. “I went with chicken noodle soup.”

“Mmm,” I close my eyes. “I could use something hot and hearty right now. I’m freezing my ass off.”

“I didn’t need to make dinner for that.”

“So come here, warm me up,” I crane my neck to the left again. “Stupid delays.”

“I can come get you."

I’d mapped it out before calling Harry, it would take him too long to get here. “That’s alright. Doesn’t make a difference.”

The screen on the platform showed 6 minutes…for the past 15 minutes.

“I’ve either been living in the longest minute of my fucking life,” I mutter. “Or this line is taking the piss out of all of us.”

Two dozen of us had gotten off the last train when it announced it was out of service. Now the number on the platform had tripled waiting for the next one.

“Patience,” Harry says. “Is a virtue.”

“Easy for you to say in the warm flat with the chicken noodle soup.”

“It’ll be yours soon.”

Soon. I sigh and try to release the anxious energy with it. “Thank you for taking care of dinner.”

“Of course.” He replies. Like it was that simple. But being with Harry was like that nowadays.

Despite all the catching up we had to do with the 17 years we had lived separate lives, emotionally it’s like we picked up where we last left off.

I’d be lying if I said it was smooth sailing the whole year we’d been together. There had been a hard few first months where both of us felt unnerved by the peacefulness of the relationship. We weren’t used to such an easy quiet.

I’d tried to self-sabotage first by going awol and working longer hours than I needed to. I think I was scared Harry would wake up one day and realize too much time had passed and he didn’t like who I’d become so I minimized our time together. Until Harry called me out for it.

But then he went off the rails, and for a few weeks I’d been an even bigger ball of anxiety. Ultimately I had to give him the hard truth even though the last thing I ever wanted was to convince someone to stay with an ultimatum. But I’d told him, he had to at least attempt sobriety if he wanted us to work.

There were a few sleepless nights, I didn’t know if we were going to make it. But one morning he asked me to go to an aa meeting with him.

Going together, being in the same boat as a group of people gathered in the back room of a dusty church finally gelled us together. For good. He’d been sober since.

We moved in together 7 months ago. Even though it doubled my commute time—tripled with delays, I had never been more sure that I was exactly where I needed to be.

We held space for each other. Even the heavier bits; we knew what they were. What it was like to hold them on our own. We always joked about how our loads had halved despite taking on half of the other’s. Because just like our venn diagram of love, our venn diagram of hurting was the same.

“Oh god, I better not be hallucinating.” I nearly jump up and down when the twin headlights of the next train peek in the distance. The platform board still says 6 minutes.

“You’re cutting up what?”

“Nothing! Train’s here!”

“I’ll pick you up from the station.” Harry says before I hang up.

I spend the remaining 15 minute ride going over the lecture I’d given tonight.

3 years ago when I applied to be a lecturer I didn’t actually think I’d get it. But in the 10 years of my career I had collected, I had done exceptionally well. It was ironic with all the bullshit life threw at me, I had somehow channeled it into a determined work ethic. After failing many math tests in high school I had found a love for it in uni—it made me work hard, get out of my head with its constant thoughts. Harry now took to calling me a masochist for teaching something mathematical.

In reality it wasn’t that mathematical. I taught Management Econ which was a snorefest on paper but I tried to be engaging and include a whole host of ways to teach—I knew not everyone excelled with a textbook.

It had made the course popular, it went from being offered once a semester to 3 times this year because the waitlist spoke for itself. It was one of my proudest accomplishment—getting students motivated and interested. And because it was mostly first and second year students, they were still eager and not jaded by the uni system.

That was how I spent my evenings on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Otherwise I worked for the city the same hours Harry worked his creative exec job at a major firm in the city. Sometimes we met up for lunch. It was the little things like that, making time to see each other in the middle of the day even though we woke up and fell asleep to each other, that made this relationship feel so secure.

It felt like coming home each time I caught sight of his face, and knew his smile was just for me.

My thoughts drift to our daughter. She would have celebrated her 18th birthday a few weeks ago. I always lit a birthday candle for her, this year Harry and I bought a cake and a symbolic drink for her. Our baby was old enough to drink.

“Do you think she takes after her parents?” Harry had asked.

“I think she grew up alright.” I always imagined her to have. “I hope she has no reason to drink herself silly.”

“Being 18 is reason enough.”

We talk about her often. She slips into conversation as easily as inhaling. It keeps her with us.

When I spot Harry’s car at the station I nearly weep.

“Your cheeks are so cold,” Harry says after a peck hello. He holds them both in his heated hands and plants exaggerated kisses on each cheek.

“Please sir,” I kiss his mouth and continue in what Harry called my Oliver Twist accent. “Take me to the chicken noodle soup. I hunger.”

Harry responds in the same accent (although it wasn’t as good as mine) and pretty soon I’m forgetting the 20 minute delay, the lecture with 100 technical difficulties, and anything in between.

After dinner and completing my 20 step night time routine I crawl into bed beside a cozy-looking Harry.

“Whatcha reading?” I peek at his book. I can’t believe he was the reading-before-bed type. In a way it was so different from the 17 year old guy I knew. It was also a reminder that even though we knew each other through and through, there were still so many habits and stories and quirks to discover.

“It’s a boring as hell sci-fi novel, don’t ask.”

“Then why are you reading it?”

“I accidentally joined a book club at work!?”

He tells me the story of how he told some people he enjoyed reading, and then being unable to say no when they bought this month’s book for him and presented it to him a week later.

“I bet you that’s their ponze scheme. It’s like an MLM, the latest recruit has to guilt the next joinee. You’ll be doing it soon.”

Harry laughs and holds his book out to me. “That actually brings me to my next question with this very generous gift, do you like reading?”

“Nope.” I push the book away. “I also don’t like book clubs.”

He tosses the book down lightly. “Damnit!”

We laugh. I cuddle into his side and lay my head on his chest as he finishes his chapter. His heart beat is steady, like the life he’s helped me create as we committed to each other. I listen to it as it lulls me to a calmer place.

“So how was work? How’s your students this semester?”

“Work’s good. Same old right now. Teaching was interesting. It’s the second week of classes so still seeing a lot of people come and go. You start to see the regulars by week 3.”

“Full class?”

“Almost,” I tell him. “A few empty seats. There was one girl who was obviously watching tv the whole time, another guy that fell asleep halfway, and this other kid kept looking at the door like he was physically trying to decide whether he would stay. Weird lot.”

“They won’t be there next week.”

“Nope.”

“You think she’s starting uni? I wonder what she’s decided to study.”

“Mmm, I always think it’s something creative like you.”

Harry squeezes his arm around me. “I think she’s a masochist like you.”

We talk more about her, about the upcoming weekend, and as sleep visits we drift away still intertwined like most nights.

***

“Does anyone know why?” I ask the lecture hall. Just like I predicted, most of the people I knew wouldn’t make it were gone. Now there were just under 60 students in total. What had surprised me was the guy who looked nervous the second week stayed. He’d been joined by two friends who only showed up in week 4. He was probably the designated note taker.

A girl to the left puts her hand up and I point to her. “The growing gap between upper and middle classes?”

“Yes.” I give her a reassuring smile. Until I started teaching, I forgot that most answers they gave were questions. “Anyone else?”

The girl beside nervous guy puts her hand up. “The ageing population, it skews the demographic from what was initially projected?”

“Exactly,” I try not to show favourites but that was beautifully said. Maybe she didn’t need to come to all the classes.

“That would also affect the workforce,” a guy sitting in the front pipes in. I smile, pleased that a discussion was forming.

A few others join in and I nod at each point. I loved this job.

After class is over I always got a few stragglers asking questions. The nervous guy comes up to me.

“Um professor,” he hitches his backpack and glances back at his friends. “For the assignment due next week, can groups of 3 be okay?”

I glance at his friends, it was supposed to be in pairs but what the hell. “Sure. But I’ll need extra stuffing in the assignment to make up for it.”

I say it with a joking tone but he’s so wound up that he takes me seriously.

“Of course. We’ll increase the citations and make sure to include more research-“

“Philippe,” one of the girls is suddenly a few feet away.

“Thank you.” He says, finally meeting my eye. I smile and he relaxes. I turn to his friends, to acknowledge them but they stare at me like I’d grown a second head. One of the other students asks her questions and I turn my attention away—weird.

***

“Mid-terms?” Harry asks. I’m reading a textbook while I stand over the simmering pot. We had accidentally ordered 4 times the tomatoes on our online order last week and with three still left I’d decided to batch make spaghetti sauce. It had been a long time since I made it from scratch.

“Kind of.” I push the book aside. “Someone in the department wants to update the textbooks and they left notes in the old one for what needs updating. They asked me to take a look.”

“That’s cool,” Harry walks over to me. He smelled like cologne and outside, the way he usually did right after he came home on chillier days. “That he wants your opinion?”

“She actually,” I poke him. “And it is! I can’t believe I get paid to lecture about one of my passions.”

“Economics,” Harry makes a face like he smelled something bad.

“Makes the world go round,” I smile sweetly.

“Remember when you liked things that were cool like Harry Potter and Coldplay-“

“I still like them! If I recall you’re the one who motivated me to do well in maths.”

“I did?” Harry looks off into the distance but his slow smirk is evident that he was remembering. He tilts my chin up and brushes my lips. “You’re right. So how about now? Would that still work?”

“Do you want me to stroke your ego right now?”

“Amongst other things,” he muses, his hands drop down to my hips and then lower, giving my bum a squeeze.

“Cut it out,” I scold him but it’s cancelled by the smile on my face. I shake my head and go back to the simmering pot.

“Is that tomato soup?” Harry’s suddenly distracted by the pot. We’d been having a lot of it this week because…well tomatoes.

“Nope, I’m making spaghetti sauce. From scratch.”

“Hey, didn’t you make that one time? When we were kids.”

“Hm,” I think back. It felt like so long ago but something niggles at me. “I think? I used to help my mum—it’s her recipe. Maybe you had dinner on a night we made it?”

“Yes. Dinner at your place, around Easter.”

I remember that Easter clearly but not for dinner. It was a night Harry and I had talked our lives all out.

“Aw. We were so young then.” I wrap my arms around Harry.

“I’m still young,” Harry says. “I’m in my prime.”

I pat his cheek. “Of course you are love.”

***

“Taylor I can’t really do this right now!” I tell my sister as she whines to me. No matter how old we got we were always somehow 17 and 12.

“C’mon just call mom! Tell her you met him and he’s really awesome.”

“I’m not lying to mom so you can invite your newest loser boyfriend to dinner. Anyway I can’t talk. I have to get to class!”

“I know.” She says weirdly. And I understand why when I walk into class and see her sitting in the front row. Ugh she knew I would try to blow her off!

My sister had somehow taken up the bad habit ever since her mid-20s of having a string of shitty boyfriends. We all blamed it on her longterm bloke breaking it off around her 26th. I don’t think she ever fully let herself heal from that.

After two separate guys were invited to two separate family dinners and both ended in mum or dad exploding over something, they were banned. This new guy, as she insists, was different. Mature. He deserved an invite.

She holds up 9 fingers and mouths, 9 months! That’s a long time!

I shake my head and start setting up my laptop.

“Hiya,” one of the students, Kim, walks up to me as I do so. “Sorry I was just wondering when we’re getting our assignments back? Will it be before midterms?”

Midterms were in 2 weeks for this class. The assignments were in my bag, marked and ready. I tell her and watch the relief spread through her.

I spend the next hour teaching, and before we break at the hour I announce I’d return assignments. As I call them out student walks down to me and pick them up, leaving with a smile or a frown.

“Philippe?” He had stuck to his word and his group had gone above and beyond. It was a beautiful paper, albeit overly-sourced. But I appreciated it.

“He’s not in,” one of his friends comes down to get it. She looks at me in that same way again, with just as much fear as curiosity. It’s odd.

“C’mon then,” I shake the paper I was holding out. “I don’t bite.”

“Oh sorry,” she grabs it from me in a rush I nearly get a papercut. She doesn’t even look at the grade, turning quickly away before halting, pivoting halfway, changing her mind, and running back up the steps to her seat. That group of kids were weird. Maybe they were on drugs.

I catch eyes with Taylor and she raises her brow. I shrug and continue handing out the papers.

I don’t expect the girl to come up to me after class. Her friend stays hovering behind, close to my sister who I know must be desperate to have sat here the whole lecture.

“Um ‘scuse me. Professor?”

“Yes?” She was the last person in the small line that had formed after class.

“I had a question about the assignment? You um, you said we missed the equations for our answers but they’re um-“ her hands are shaking as she flips the pages to the last page. “They’re on the bottom here.”

“Oh,” I did remember they were missing it but my pen marks were all over the back of it. “I must have missed that, bloody hell sorry about that!”

“Yeah um, do we get the extra points?”

“Of course but I-“ I glance back at Taylor. She’s talking to the friend. I had to get her out of here before she said something ridiculous. “I have office hours after my Monday class. I’ll have it remarked by then and you can pick it up?”

“Um, okay?”

I quickly shut my things down and grab my sister, getting her out as quick as possible.

“I’m a professional,” she reminds me. “Jeez. Anyway Y/n listen it’s the longest I’ve been in a relationship since, well y’know. 9 months! It’s different with this guy. He works like you! A cushy office job. He’s serious. Please!?”

I hadn’t seen Taylor since last month’s dinner when she had tried to convince me to get on board with this guy. She’d been pleading for a month. “Fine.”

“Oh I love you!” She squeezes my arm. “Text me when mom gives the okay.”

I sigh. I’d really got myself in the middle again.

I retell this to Harry when I get home.

“She’s persistent. But 9 months is a new record.”

“I know!” Harry knew all about her string of boys, I’d caught him up months ago. “Anyway I can’t believe she sat through the whole lecture.”

“Maybe this is the guy. The One.”

“You don’t believe in that do you?”

“Yeah?” He squints at me. “Of course I do?”

“So I’m The One?”

“Baby do I even need to say yes? I knew it as soon as I saw you when we were 14. You confirmed it when you kissed me on the roof that day.”

“I can’t believe I did that. I had my first drink that day by the way so I might’ve been drunk.”

“You were not drunk when you kissed me,” Harry points his fork at me.

“Look at you getting all worked up,” I tease.

“I’ll get you all worked up,” he mutters into his plate. I grin as I stretch my leg out under the table and run it up his leg. He grips my ankle when it gets too high and the look he gives me across the table sends my heart racing.

“Oops,” I drop my foot and go back to eating.

We put on a movie after, something we can zone out to. It doesn’t take Harry long to get bored and nuzzle into me, and it doesn’t take much longer after that before the movie is just for show and we’re tangled in our sheets.

There were 17 years of experience Harry showed up with now, and it was another one of those things that made catching up on lost time all the better.

***

In the first half hour of my office hours, the girl walks in. I should remember her name but I just associated her group with Philippe. I was surprised he wasn’t here actually. He seemed to be their spokesperson.

“Hi come in!” I wave her into the tiny cubicle-like room I borrowed for a few hours every Monday. “I’ve got your assignment here all done.”

“Thank you,” she hovers over my desk and I hand it over. Her fingers fidget with the strings of her hoodie and I seriously consider the drug angle. Or maybe her and her friends had serious anxiety issues. I didn’t miss that part about being a teen.

“You wanna flip through one more time? I try not to make mistakes twice but…”

She sits down tentatively and buries her head in the paper as she flips through.

“It’s alright,” she says. Her expression is so serious it nearly makes me laugh. She had pretty hair—blunt cut bangs that I remember rocking in my early 20s, but on her they hide the expression in her eyebrows. Maybe that’s why she always looked so sullen. Her lips are painted a pretty mauve colour and it complimented her green eyes.

“I really um…your class is really interesting.”

Kids saying that was like injecting pure joy right into my veins.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” I smile at her. But it still doesn’t crack a smile on her end. “It’s dense material but that’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know if I was gonna keep the class.” It’s subtle but she inches back in the seat. The more she talks the more she relaxes back. “But I heard it was worth taking. And people were right.”

“Are you in your first or second year?” I ask.

“First,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. It’s covered in piercings.

“How are you liking uni so far?”

She meets my eyes for a second before they shift away. “Yeah it’s nice? I’ve never lived away from home but I have some friends here that I’ve known since before so it helps. It’s really different, less structure but I like the freedom.”

Wow, she really spoke a lot more when she was comfortable. But I find it endearing.

“That’s really nice. It’s good to have a support system, especially with such big change.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. Her eyes dart around the desk as she goes silent. I wait for her to get up and go but a minute passes and the room starts to feel even smaller.

I could ask her if she needed anything else, or maybe continue the conversation? Did she want me to ask about her? No, that would be weird.

“So um, was that your sister in class last week?”

Okay, didn’t see that coming.

“It was! My baby sister, although she’s not really a baby. Did she tell your friend that?”

She nods again. “She was talking to her.”

“You have any siblings?”

“An older sister yeah.”

“So you get it,” I say. “You love them, they get under your skin, you’d do anything for them, and the cycle continues.”

For the first time she smiles and my breath catches. For a moment…no. No, I was imagining things.

“Yeah. My sister and I were close growing up, but she’s the one person that really knows how to get under my skin. I swear she does it on purpose sometimes.”

“Probably,” I want to say something funny again. I just want to see her smile.

Back off, my inner voice says. Don’t do this again.

Some years back, when I was still in the throes of alcohol, I had followed a girl at the mall for nearly an hour. She had looked so much like my sister but with brown curly hair. I could have sworn it was her—my daughter. But after an hour of drunk stalking she had met up with her mum, a direct clone of her.

I couldn’t be obsessive again. Nobody knew about that phase. Not even Harry.

“D’you have any kids?” She asks. I don’t expect the question and it throws me off what with the thoughts looping in my head. She watches me, waiting for an answer.

“Um,” I usually answered no. To anyone who had asked in the last 18 years. But for some reason I nod today. “Yeah. One.”

I imagine it, I must have. Her face draws in for a second before she looks down. “Does she ever come to your lectures?”

“Oh no,” I feel the prick of tears and try to blink them away without being too obvious. “I’m not sure she’d find them interesting.”

“Oh.” She finally stands. “Maybe when she’s older…but I’ll see you on Thursday I guess?”

“Yeah,” I watch her go and realize she’d forgotten something. “Don’t forget your paper hon!”

She stiffens by the door before coming to get it.

“Sorry, it probably makes me a bad prof but there were two female names on the paper. Which one’s yours?”

“Bridget,” her voice cracks.

“Bridget,” I try to match the name to her face. It fit. “That’s lovely.”

She scurries out and I hear someone say “well!?” Outside followed by a “shh!”

I shake my head and try to focus back on my work, my heart racing an unusual amount.

***

It takes a couple days but I confess to Harry. He’d decided to meet up with me after class on Wednesday to eat out. We didn’t go far from the uni, a pub a few roads down. I actually spotted a couple former students there and they’d waved at me warmly.

“You’re not crazy,” Harry holds my hand on the table. “A few years ago I realized the volunteer interns we took on from the nearby school? They were the same age as her, teens? And I used to check up on them all the time, make sure they were feeling comfortable, until one of the guys on the team told me to quit being so weird and find someone my own age. I don’t know if it came across that way but…I got lost in that.”

“Oh Harry,” I squeeze his hand. “I didn’t know that.”

“I’ve never told anyone.”

“Me too,” I pop another chip into my mouth. “But really I’d kind of pushed those memories out of my head until the other day. I can’t explain it, when she smiled it just felt like I knew her.”

“Yeah. Maybe she just looks like Taylor?”

We finish dinner while Harry tells me about a story about some friends of his I knew. We reminisce about our old friends as we wrap up and head out into the brisk November air.

We’re near the station when I gasp and clutch Harry’s arm. Standing outside one of the nearby pubs, smoking with her friends, was Bridget.

“Harry! That’s her!”

“What? Who?” He’s so oblivious as he whips his head around.

“Hushhh!” I nod towards the northwest side. His eyes scan the group. “Red beanie. We have to walk past just look at her okay? Tell me if you see it.”

Harry laughs to himself, “This feels like we’re in high school walking past a crush.”

“Is that how you walked past me?” I tease.

“I did.” He looks at me in that way that still gives me butterflies. It never got old.

“Stop making me want to jump your bones out here. I have a reputation to uphold!”

“Hey I’ll still have a job to support us,” he whispers as we near closer to the group. “Feel free to do whatever you feel.”

“You’re a bad influence.” I whisper back. By now we’re a few feet away and I sense Harry slow down beside me.

Bridget’s nodding to whatever her friend is saying. Philippe is waving his drink around as he responds. We almost pass by unnoticed when someone completely different calls my name.

“Hey professor! Can we buy you a drink?”

I turn and spot a group of students I taught last semester. They were all friends, always battling out their wits during group discussions. It made my class lively, even distracting at times. But I tried going with the flow of whatever group of students I got.

“Hey kids!” I say. Then I have no choice but to acknowledge Bridget and her friends. “And more kids! Is this the new spot to be at?”

I sounded so lame but shite! We weren’t supposed to get caught.

“It’s always been popular,” one of my old students says. “Can we pick your brain? Buy you a drink? We can buy one for your friend too.”

“I uh,” I glance at Harry but he’s frozen solid. I look to what he’s looking at and it’s Bridget. They’re locked in some silent conversation and her friends eye each other. “Harry?”

“Huh?” He focuses on me, flushed and just as confused as I had looked on Monday.

“We’ve gotta get him home,” I pat Harry’s arm. “Our alcohol metabolizes differently at our age.”

“You’re not that old,” Bridget says. She seems to be surprised she said it at all and her eyes widen. “I just mean you look younger than my parents.”

“We’ll take that as a compliment.” I smile up at Harry who still looks a little lost.

“Miss aren’t you going to introduce your male friend?” One of my old student goads.

“Don’t assume,” the other chides.

“Aren’t you a nosy lot after a few drinks.” I missed dishing it back in class with them.

“Oops!” They laugh.

“Anyway. This is Harry.”

“You can call me Mr. Professor,” Harry jokes and it’s a crowd pleaser. God they were drunk. Harry leans into me, “I can see why you like teaching. They’re an ego-booster.”

“Not in a 6pm lecture on a Thursday night.” I whisper back. He hides his laugh.

“Are you guys heading home?” Now it’s Philippe. I’m surprised he was getting involved in the conversation. He was usually the quiet nervous type.

“We are. Need a good night’s rest so I’m not falling asleep in your lecture tomorrow.”

“We wouldn’t mind,” Philippe goes for joker but his face flushes. It’s cute.

“Philippe you take way too many notes during class for me to believe that.”

His two friends, Bridget and the other girl, look at each other wide-eyed before losing it. And I watch Bridget’s face transform again and I get the same feeling. I look up at Harry and he’s transfixed.

I tug his sleeve and he looks at me, swallowing like he was parched.

“Weird right?”

“Yeah,” he whispers but his mouth turns down ever so slightly.

The girls are too busy cajoling Philippe to say goodbye to so we make our exit quietly. We don’t talk much on the train ride home but Harry simple holds his hand out on my thigh, palm up, and I lock my fingers into his. Even when we didn’t have words, we never stopped staying in touch.

***

It’s exam and holiday season before I know it.

I was actually looking forward to Christmas this year. It was the first that Harry was going to join with my family. Taylor’s bloke was also showing. He had been a hit with my parents and even I could admit he was the better of all the guys she’s every brought over.

It’s the last 30 minutes of the last exam I was facilitating this year. I announce the time left to the group. There were only about 15 kids left.

Bridget is one of them. I watch her tuck her hair behind her ear and bite her lip. She’d been pretty quiet the remainder of the semester, and I tried not to let my eyes wander to her too much.

After that night, bumping into her with Harry, we hadn’t spoken much about it. The hope that was initially so buoyant turned crushing as we faced the reality that the odds were slim to none. That our wishes were just pennies tossed in a fountain, sinking to the bottom of the pool.

Dreary winter days pass by and Harry and I try to keep the seasonal depression away with regular outdoor dates, cozy nights in bed, and seeing friends as often as we could.

On Christmas we go to my parents’. It’s a loud affair as my grandparents and a few cousins join us. After dinner I go up to my childhood bedroom, it’s now a guest room but some of my things still lay around. I open the window, it was cold so I drag a blanket out and sit outside. The street is quiet, I see families in a few open windows and I watch the festivities through them. I feel a mix of nostalgia and an ache that goes even beyond that, like I was missing something.

“Y/n?” Of course Harry would find me even though I’d left the door closed and the window tilted.

“Here,” I say.

“Ah,” he struggles to hoist himself out. “Some things never change.”

“You need help?” I watch him climb on all fours.

“I’m steady,” he grins as he crawls to me. I open the blanket and he gets in.

We sit in silence for a bit.

“It was getting really loud downstairs wasn’t it?” I ask.

“I think your grandma’s in love with Taylor’s guy.” Harry says so bluntly that I burst out laughing. He joins in.

“I feel like old people get to flirt with whoever they want because it’s always harmless.”

“Maybe that’s the case with older women,” Harry grimaces. “Can’t say the same thing about old men now can we?”

“Jesus!” I laugh and then laugh even harder when Harry says: “it is his day.”

By the time I wipe my tears Harry’s gazing down at me.

“Sorry,” I lean my head against his shoulder. “You have to stop being so funny.”

“Nah,” he kisses my head. “Have I never told you how much I like your laugh?”

He had. On a night many years ago on a roof like this.

I go to remind him but he’s pulling away. I watch as he shifts to face my slowly. He pulls something out from behind him and my brain only connects the dots as he starts talking.

“Y/N, this is something I wish I could have done 18 years ago but only feels incredibly right to do now. Especially out here.”

“Harry,” I gasp. When did he get the ring? When had he planned this?

“We somehow found our way back to each other again y/n, and you know I love you more than ever before.” He clears his throat as it clouds with emotion. “Some 18 years ago I told you I knew you, because the first time I ever laid eyes on you my heart knew. You were something special. And I never ever want to spend another moment apart again. So Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honour and finally be mine? Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” If I wasn’t sitting on a roof I would launch myself at Harry. I settle for pulling his face down to mine and kissing it. “I’ve always been yours Harry. But yes, of course yes!”

He slides the ring on and it fits perfectly.

It was perfect.

When we go back down my mum knows right away, and if it was loud before it’s absolute chaos as everyone descends on me and demands to know how he proposed and how the ring looks.

“On the roof? When there’s a perfectly pretty tree here?” My grandma asks. Harry and I exchange a look then, trying not to laugh all over again.

We ring in the New Year with friends, as fiancés. I can hardly believe it. Apparently most of our friends knew Harry was going to propose and they all toast to us and our happiness.

Somewhere in mid-January, I drop by my parents’ house to drop off some groceries. That’s when my dad hands me a letter that had been mailed home.

“It came for you, I dunno who thinks you still live here but it looks handwritten.”

I take it from my dad as I say one last goodbye. I barely make it to the tube with wobbly legs. Because somewhere inside I know.

It’s a long and agonizing 2 hours that I wait for Harry to come home. He finds me sitting in the dark; the sun had set while I waited, and I’d been too busy staring at the feminine scrawl on the front of the letter to turn on the lights.

“Hello-y/n, what are you doing in the dark?”

Harry drops his things where they are when I look at him. “Y/n are you alright? Say something.”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I just push the letter forward.

He walks towards it. It’s like he hits a brick wall when he puts the pieces together, he halts a foot away.

“What is that?”

“Is was…” I try to swallow so my voice doesn’t sound so hoarse. “My dad gave it to me. It was sent to the house.”

“Is it…”

“I was waiting for you.”

Suddenly he’s in motion. He puffs his cheeks out and lets out a noisy sigh. Then he paces the floor one, two, three, four times before standing in front of the couch.

“We should read it.” I say.

“Yeah,” he deflates into the couch. I want to join him but it feels like my arse has been glued to the chair.

I inch it towards me and Harry nods. He wanted me to read it.

My mouth is parched. I can barely make out any sounds as I open it up. It’s three pages folded in two, the paper itself isn’t anything very special, it’s typed up so it’s literally just ink on paper. And yet it’s worth a whole goldmine.

“Y/n and Harry,” I read before my voice breaks and I bury my face in my hands. Our baby girl had written to us. She had reached out.

“C’mon love,” Harry’s suddenly beside me and his hand squeezes my neck. The touch gives me enough strength to stand with him. He sets me down where he just sat and leaves again, returning with water and the letter.

“Can you read it?” I ask.

He settles in beside me, we touch along every edge of us. The letter sits in between us like our love, our hurting—it’s where it belongs. He begins to read in his soothing voice.

“Y/n and Harry,

I hope it’s okay I’m calling you that. I don’t know if it’s proper but ever since I found out about you two last year that’s what I’ve been calling you.”

Harry lets out a shaky breath and I intertwine my arm through his. He kisses my temple and continues.

“When I turned 15, I asked my mum about you. I started to wonder where I came from. I knew I was adopted for as long as I could remember but it didn’t mean much to me for a long time—I had a mother, a father, and a sister. I had a family so why did I need to know where I came from?

But over the last few years it’s been like an itch I couldn’t get to. See when I was 15, what set it off is that my sister decided to look into her birth parents. They were separated, her father lived in Tokyo and her mother lived in Wales. It took her a year to convince our parents to go to Wales. I went with and I found myself in the home of a woman who looked just like the girl I grew up with. The whole time it ate away at me. I wanted this ending too.

I asked my mum and dad when I turned 15 but they were weird and evasive. I turned my skills to the internet but I didn’t really know where to start.

I felt the missing part more and more as I turned 16. I used to fall asleep thinking about you two, if you were alive, what you looked like, where you were, what you did.

I love my parents. They’re wonderful and amazing, they are supportive and never made us feel like we were anything but theirs. But I wanted to know my background.

On my 17th birthday my parents gave me a letter like the one I write today.” Harry stops reading and takes in a deep shuddering breath. “She got the letter.”

His shoulder shake and he pinches the bridge of his nose. I clench my teeth so I wouldn’t cry too. I wanted to finish this letter. I wrap my arms around him and hold him.

This was unbelievable, what we’d dreamed of. Her words, in our hands.

“Here.” I take the letter from him and continue. “Let me read it.”

Harry stays hunched over, so with my hand on his back I continue, “in it you told me how much you loved me. How much you loved each other, your families, where I came from. And Why you had to give me up. For a better life. I saw the picture of you, and I felt broken and complete at the same time. I realized I was the same age as you in the photo, I had to meet you but I was terrified. And I didn’t know how.

I spent a year agonizing and looking through every google page I could find about you. I learned a lot! But I needed to meet you.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve made decisions that may not have been the best but I’ve left my number and a picture of me when I was 5 in the envelope.

I hope you call.”

With shaking hands I turn to the third page that has one of those polaroids taped to it and a phone number in the same handwriting as the envelope.

“She’s beautiful,” Harry says while tears continue streaming down his face. I can’t even hide mine anymore.

She was beautiful indeed. She had his eyes, and her curly locks in a deep brown frame her chubby face. She had my nose, she looked a little like my sister as a baby. A scatter of freckles over her cheeks confirm it. She was ours. Our baby had reached out. We knew what she looked like.

“We need to call her,” I say. “We need to meet.”

“Yeah,” Harry wipes his face. “We…we need to do this carefully. It’s delicate right?”

I wanted to call her right now but what would I do but cry into the phone? No, I had to wrap my head around this. Harry was right. “Right.”

“She’s out there,” Harry turns to me. “She wants to know us. Y/n she wants to meet us! She saw the picture I-“

“I can’t believe it,” I whisper. “Our daughter wants to—did she leave her name?”

We open the letter and flip over every piece of it but her name is nowhere.

“Maybe she didn’t want us looking her up?” Harry offers.

“Maybe she has an awful digital footprint.”

Something about it makes us laugh and we can’t stop. But pretty soon it shifts back into tears and we’re left holding each other on the couch, tender and content and anxious.

Our daughter had made contact. Would she like us? Would she be mad at us? What did this mean for us?

The thoughts continue to spiral the rest of the evening. We don’t make much of an effort, we reread the letter and try to get dinner in us. We face each other as we try to fall asleep, whispering questions into the darkness. The darkness doesn’t answer, it grows heavier as does the night, and we fall asleep for the first time in our lives knowing the weight of a decision so long ago was a tiny bit lighter.

***

It’s a few days later. All I’d been thinking about was the letter, when I woke up, at work, during my commute, during breaks, when I went to bed.

It sits on our dining table, we glance at it as we pass by. It becomes part of the decor, three pieces of paper and an envelope. It’s so much weightier than that.

I come home from my lecture on Wednesday, a slight buzz of anxiety humming in the background. It wasn’t unusual for Harry and I to get busy at work and not talk the whole day but today Harry had been radio silent. He hadn’t answered my texts or phone calls in a very un-Harry way.

I walk in to Harry sitting on the couch in the dark, staring at the coffee table. On it sits the letter.

“Hey,” I don’t even take off my jacket. I slide next to him. “Is everything alright?”

“Hey,” he whispers. He stays frozen sitting forward, elbows on his knees, head cradled in his hand.

I wait for him to speak, to say something about what was going on. I rub my hand over his back and he glances up. I tip forward until our foreheads touch. “What’s going on in that brain of yours? Let me help you.”

“It’s a lot,” he whispers. It tears me in two.

“Hey,” I remind him. “Just one day at a time. Let’s just talk about today.”

“I want to call her so bad,” he leans away and buries his head in his hands. I wanted to call her too, I’d been waiting for Harry to give the cue since I knew I could be rash and impulsive about something like this. But something was going on with him.

“We will.”

“We gave her up. What if she hates us?”

“She wouldn’t have written us that beautiful letter, or sent a photo, or left her number if she did.”

Harry sniffles and then asks what he really wanted to, “what if she hates me.”

“Harry look at me,” He unfolds slowly and I make sure he’s looking at me. “You’re her father, you’ve carried her with you for the last 18 years. You love her. She wants to know you. Why would she hate you?”

“I’ve fucked up so much!”

“You’re not your mistakes.” I remind him. I get teary eyed as I feel the echoes of his insecurities. I’ve thought about it too: what if I didn’t meet her expectations? “She’s not going to see you and see every good and bad decisions you’ve ever made. She’s just going to see her father—her biological father, and see where she got her eyes from and her hair from and every other quirk she has.”

“You’re not worried?” He asks, looking at me with grief.

“Of course I am,” I confess, tears leaking out of my eyes damnit. “I’m so fucking worried. But my curiosity overtakes that, my love for her is what I’m focusing on.”

“I love her,” he says.

“That’s all that matters.” I cup his face and press a reassuring kiss to his lips. “That’s all she’ll care about.”

Harry untangles himself from me and my heart sinks. He paces the length of our living room a few times, running his hand through his hair.

“We really should talk about the letter,” he says.

“Yeah. I know. I want to call. Badly.”

He pauses. It’s like all the anxious energy drains out of him at once. He sits back down beside me.

“What do we do?” I ask

“How about Saturday? She’s probably going to be home then right? No school—if she’s in school.”

Two days. Two more days of agonizing over the letter.

At this point the letter is memorized, seared into my brain like I had an exam on it. I want to know the person behind it.

When we wake on Saturday it’s a cloudy day. I don’t take it as a bad omen.

We sit with our phones out after breakfast, just staring at everything before us.

“You should do the talking,” I tell Harry. “I’m too nervous.”

“I think you should.” Harry says. “She sent the letter to you.”

“Only because that’s the address my mum gave…gave her mum.”

It hits me again in another wave I try not to drown in. She was eighteen, she’d lived a whole life with a whole family. There was everything of her we’d missed out on.

“Please Harry?” I was already overwhelmed with the realization. I just couldn’t.

He watches me, must hear the desperation in my voice, and slowly pulls his phone forward.

It rings, and rings a few more times. When it goes to voicemail he turns it off.

“I didn’t think that was an option,” Harry says and we laugh. It feels good.

“It’s only 10 maybe she’s asleep. Try one more time?”

He pulls my phone and tries again but it still goes to voicemail.

We sit there, unsure of what to do. We agree to try again later, in the afternoon.

But around half past 12, while Harry’s working in our spare room and I’m scrolling through my phone, it rings. I don’t think much of it and pick it up automatically.

“Hello?” It’s silent on the other end. “Hello?”

I wait, but as I do it dawns on me. Who called me?

I check my phone screen and swipe through as I say hello again. I match the number. It was her.

I run to Harry but the phone is still silent. I wave the paper with the number saying hello again.

“Is this…well you never gave us your name. But we got your letter. We’re so gl-“

The line goes dead and so does my heart.

“You called her again?” Harry whispers, his brows furrowing as he stares at the phone.

“She called.” I think about calling her back but that was pushy. She was backing out of this.

All of a sudden I feel myself giving out. I catch myself against the wall and slide down.

“She’s backing out. It must be…too much for her.”

Harry stares at a spot on the ground, a million thoughts flickering through. Finally it settles on acceptance. He sighs.

“We can’t force her to talk to us,” he says softly what I already know. But his words are like a saw to my resolve and I just start crying. He gathers me in his arms but the grief feels endless. It felt like she was slipping away again; I’d lost so much and I lost her again. She had been so close. How could she do this? Why did she reach out if she wasn’t ready?

Questions without answers. More of them piled on top of the lifetime of questions I’d built for her.

I know Harry feels the weight of them too. We carry them together. That’s the only reason I hadn’t broken yet.

But I come close to it that day. We don’t hear back from her. And we don’t try to call her back. It didn’t feel right.

It killed me she was so close. And something changes inside.

For weeks I feel like I’m on autopilot. It’s like my first semester of uni all over again.

Harry tries his best to keep me together but he struggles too. It makes me feel worse I was taking the bigger hit, not being there for him as much as I wanted. But life feels like a a million blankets covering me.

I try to keep my usual momentum for my classes, but I’m always exhausted after. It pulls me deeper into my sadness, something I loved made me so tried.

It’s a Thursday at the end of the semester and I’m marking exams during my study hours when there’s a light knock on the door.

I’m surprised to see an old student.

“Bridget,” I wave her in. “Come in, what can I do you for?”

“Hi professor-“

“Call me y/n, I’m not teaching you anymore am I?”

“No,” she says with a stiff smile. The last time I saw her was in February, I’d spotted her with Philippe and a few other friends at a local coffee shop. She had been explaining something to one of her friends from a textbook.

Now her hair was short and more pronounced with waves. I wonder if she styled it, her longer hair had been pin straight.

“I had a question?”

You already asked it, I want to joke. But she was usually wound up so I knew it wouldn’t land well.

“What’s that?”

“Um, well.” She perches on the chair and I wait patiently for her to continue. “Are you taking any applications for TA next year?”

I wasn’t expecting that. She always found a way to take me by surprise. I stare at her for a few seconds, trying to remember what year she was in.

“Aren’t you in first year? If I do TAs they’re usually 3rd or above.”

“I know,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. “But seeing that one of my majors is in econ and my gpa is really high, and I did well in your class, I wondered if you would consider me?”

I hadn’t done TAs since my first year of teaching. I found I liked the work because it got me more familiar with the class.

“What’s your other major?” She had said one of them was econ.

“Sociology, I’m pre-law.”

Ambitious. “Why TA for my class?”

She balks as she meets my gaze. There’s something that flits through her face that I can’t quite read before she drops eye contact.

“Um, I really enjoyed it. I did really well. I think you’re super smart and would learn a lot by TA-ing for you.”

“I don’t give special lessons to my TA,” I let her know. “You’d typically attend some of the classes, mark assignments, and maybe teach exam tutorials, and have office hours of your own for students.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Why should I pick you?”

She pushes her shoulders back, “I’m responsible, dependable, I submit all my assignments on time and have experience teaching.”

“Teaching?”

“I used to tutor when I was in high school. I didn’t really get an allowance so I found a way to support my hobbies.”

“What are your hobbies?”

She blushes a little, was she still nervous? “I love reading, books are expensive.”

I nod. For Harry’s birthday I’d told him he could get any books from Waterstones and it had been over £100 for 3 only.

“I also enjoy cooking. And um, it’s been a while but my friends and I sometimes go to like. Do you know comic con?”

“Yes,” I’d seen things online.

“Yeah we liked to dress up for that sort of thing. We used to make our own outfits and usually the cost varies depending on what you’re making and how realistic you want it and…” she trails off as I smile. She was really enthusiastic about it. I couldn’t help it.

“Tell you what. Leave your number with me and I’ll think about it. I haven’t had a TA for the last few semesters but I am going to take this into consideration.”

“Really?!”

I laugh. “Yes. Really.”

“Um…” she starts to fidget again. “Can I leave my email? I’m getting a new phone soon so I-“

“Sure. Anywhere I can reach you.”

I expect her to get out a pen but she says it verbally and I type it out.

“Um, are you alright?” She asks out of the blue after I type in the last letter.

“Alright?” I raise my brow.

“I mean, you seem…I just heard, um.” She tries to backtrack but I ask her again and she spills. “Some people just said your last few classes seem scattered. Not that people don’t like you. I just…that’s what they were saying. And I don’t know if having a TA would help? And I just wanted to ask if you’re okay sorry I shouldn’t…it’s none of my business.”

God, this girl was so awkward. But she was sweet for caring, I think. “You’re not applying for the role because you feel bad that I seem…scattered right?”

She blushes. “Sorry. I think I said too much.”

I want to laugh but it strikes me that my students had noticed. I’d let it affect their learning. It didn’t feel very good.

“Life’s hitting me hard recently,” I tell her simply. “But I’m alright. Thank you for reaching out Bridget.”

As I finish up the semester I think about her. It wouldn’t hurt to have her TA for one of my lectures, see how she does. I didn’t care for TAs as a lecturer but something about her is compelling and I find myself emailing her in the middle of the night in June. She responds back a few minutes later,

Thank you!!! You’re the best. I’ll do whatever you need just tell me I can do anythingggh

Sent from iphone.

I laugh to myself as I put my phone away and go back to bed. My guesses were she was drunk at a party.

Harry’s asleep beside me and I reach out to touch his back but think better of it. He’d been busy at work with a project nearing its deadline and I didn’t want to accidentally wake him.

I turn around and try to drift off, thinking about my daughter, about how Harry and I hadn’t really talked much in the last two weeks, about my teaching, and my new TA.

Age 38:

It’s a depressing summer. The air of dashed hopes still hangs around Harry and I. It’s less thunder clouds and more of a fog.

One weekend morning, it’s one of those mornings that start off heavy. I can’t get out of bed, but I hear Harry pattering about doing his weekend morning thing. I hear the dishwasher turn on, and soon after he walks in with our laundry folded in a basket. I feel awful as I normally do, but not awful enough to get up and do anything about it. I think I’d have to feel less awful, to do that.

I don’t expect him to get in beside me once he’s finished putting everything away. He smells like laundry and shampoo, I must smell like rot and decay.

“Y/n,” he says gingerly. I just look at him in response. I felt too heavy to even reply. He sits up and calls my name again.

“Mm,” I say.

He sighs. Despite months of this Harry’s been nothing but understanding but this morning seems different.

Suddenly I’m being pulled up by my shoulders and I find myself sitting up in bed.

“Y/N,” Harry says again. I fold my arms as the duvet slips down and the cool air raises goosebumps. “I love you, which is why it’s so hard seeing you like this. You have to get on, my love. We have to move forward. It’s been months.”

All I could remember after our daughter hung the phone up on us was when I almost got to hold her. Right after she was born, I almost got to hold her but they took her away. And that piece of me that followed after her was nearly returned. It was that almost that was a death blow.

“It’s hard,” I feel myself tear up. It was hard not to these days.

“I know baby,” Harry scoops me into him. “I know. It’s hard for me too but we have to get better. We have to live our lives. She’ll come back to us, I just know it. She’s scared, we’re hopeful. Fear’s gonna keep her away. Hope keeps us patient.”

I cry into his shirt and he rocks me.

“I’m sorry,” I say into his shirt.

“It’s alright,” he grips the back of my neck.

So for Harry, for us, I try to get back to myself. I start to pick up my outdoor hobbies, I try to keep conversations going with Harry, I reintroduce my multi-step night routine. I look forward and re-light the candle of hope, even though I ache to blow it out before it can burn down to its wick.

My wounds inside stay tender.

We had booked our wedding for November and as the days approach we find ourselves with one thing on our mind.

Harry and I finally talk about it.

“I always thought she’d be there at the wedding once she reached out.”

We’re sat in an outdoor space near King’s Cross, coffees in hand as we people watch. We’d just come back from a cake tasting and neither of us felt like going home with such a glorious August day. Kids splash in the water sprinklers and couples sit around arm in arm. I touch shoulders with Harry unconsciously.

“Me too. I think that’s what’s kept me from mentally committing to the fact that the date is coming closer.”

“It can’t be forever,” Harry says. “She reached out. She just needs time. She’ll call again one day and we’ll meet her.”

“I know.” I lean my head on his shoulder. This was a realization I’d also been slowly digesting. I’d waited 18 years, what was a few more months, another year? Her baby picture lived on our fridge, at least we were one step closer.

And the love, I had to remind myself in these moments. Hold onto the love.

***

“I can’t stay for this class,” Bridget tells me. It’s the second week of classes and there were still 10 minutes until it officially started.

“Is everything alright?”

“Not really,” that’s when I notice her nose is red and her eyes are too. “My um, my parents had to put my dog down. She…she wasn’t feeling well yesterday and the-they found cancer? And she was in a lot of pain but she never showed it? And-“

I put my hand on Briget’s shoulder and lead her to the exit. There was no reason for the whole class to see this.

“Sorry. I’m-“

“Don’t apologize.” I rub her shoulder. “I understand. Take the time you need I have this covered.”

True to her word, Bridget had been a loyal TA over the summer. I considered it a trial run not expecting much but she had shown up, aced marking, and I’d gotten good feedback from the students at the end of the semester.

I’d also taken to her. She’d join me during my 2 hours every Monday and when no students would come she would loosen up. She’d told me all about the dog she grew up with, she showed me costumes her friends and her made, I’d asked her about the books she was reading and the classes she was taking. It was like having a younger sister again, except I was mature enough to appreciate her.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Bridget says and this statements seems to be the breaking point. She curls in on herself, shoulders shaking. I don’t even think, I just pull her into me like I would for Harry, for Taylor, for any of my friends.

“You have a lifetime of memories with her,” I hold her. At first she stiffens up and I almost let her go but she only breaks down further and wraps her arms around me. Tighter than I expected.

“I wish I said goodbye,” she says into my shoulder.

“I know hon,” I squeeze her against me, something maternal washing over me. “I know.”

After a minute or so she regains her composure, wiping her face with her sleeve. When she looks at me she looks so much younger, her face grief-stricken and regretful.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be.”

She seems to want to say something more but whatever it is, she swallows it and takes a step away.

I don’t see her for two weeks and I miss her.

When she walks into the lecture the first week of October I try not to rush her but I’m overjoyed seeing her face. It had become so familiar to me.

She smiles shyly when she walks up to me and I pull her into a hug. This time she doesn’t stiffen.

“How are you?” I whisper. Students were still trickling in so I use the time to catch up.

“Okay. Better than that day I cried all over you sorry again. I went home last week, thanks for letting me take it off.”

“Of course. You forget I’ve been doing this without a TA before you. I can hold down the fort.”

She cracks a smile, her dimple making a rare appearance.

“By the way, week 10’s lecture is supposed to be cancelled.” I tell her later during office hours. “But I wondered if you wanted to hold a tutorial that week for some of the material?”

“Really?” A light comes on in her eye. It’s fiery and bright with excitement.

“Yeah! You know the material! I’ll leave you with slides and you can go about teaching them.”

“I’d love to!” She grips her laptop close to her. “Wait why is it cancelled?”

“I’m getting married that week!”

The light dims. Or maybe I imagine it.

“Oh! I thought you were married already?”

“No,” I’d referred to Harry as my partner any time he was brought up. “We’re getting married in November. You’ve met him actually, kind of, that night we ran into you and some students at the pub. Last year?”

“Oh yeah I remember,” she says but her eyes are somewhere else. “So you’re getting married?”

“Yes Bridget,” I laugh. “Married. Tying the knot. You alright?”

“Yeah,” she blinks and she’s back. “You never mentioned the wedding. Do you have a dress?”

“Yeah! Just finalized the tailoring last week. Most things are ready, we’re just finalizing the rings!”

“Cool!” She fidgets with the hem of her shirt. “Is it in London?”

“Yeah, it’s not too big but we didn’t want people travelling too far. This is where Harry and I were born and raised so this is where we want to marry too.”

“Wow,” she seems lost in thought and she stays pretty quiet the rest of the time. I didn’t realize my news was that surprising.

Maybe I still didn’t have Bridget completely figured out.

***

“Harry I can’t pick them up! I need to get home and then head back out to class!”

“Y/n it’s on your way home!”

“Not really! It’s a 30 minute detour. Why can’t you do it?”

“Because you can still get to him right before he closes. I won’t be done here until after he closes. I’m sorry love!”

“Agh and why can’t he do tomorrow?”

“He’s off until Saturday! We need it today.”

It’s the Wednesday before we marry and our rings are still at the jeweller’s. He’d finished them last weekend but we’d been so busy with other things we hadn’t had time to pick it up. And now it was either today and be late for class, or the day of the wedding.

I had gotten delayed at work and missed Harry’s texts explaining the situation. I’d only responded while on the tube, but going out of my way for 30 minutes meant I’d be 30 minutes late to get back to class. And since I’d left marked assignments at home that the kids needed for next week’s tutorial, I had no choice but to head back.

The idea hits me at once.

I hang up on Harry and ring Bridget. She picks up right away.

“Bridget, I’m on a crazy tight schedule. I’m going to be late to class by half hour at least.”

“Oh no. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah it’s just wedding thing but can you do something crazy? And feel free to say no okay?”

“Okay?”

I explain to her that if she rode to my flat, Harry would be there by then and she could pick up marked assignment. She can delay class by taking them up.

She’s silent but eventually I get a yes. “Okay. Can you text me your address?”

“Yes! Yes. Thank you Bridget. I owe you your trip fare and lunch or something. I’ll text you now, leave as soon as you can!”

I call Harry again and confirm he’d be home by the time she arrived. Everything works out.

I get the rings, and have to head home so Harry can try his on. The jeweller was expecting both of us, and let me know he couldn’t do adjustments if I didn’t text him by today. Just my luck!

When I get to the flat I tell Harry not to read his inscription but to try it on and thankfully it fits.

“Hey,” Harry calls out as I try to rush back out the door.

“What?” I was out of breath and frantic.

“Slow down,” he pulls me into a lingering kiss and despite being breathless before, I get some air into my lungs when we part.

“Sorry, so hectic.”

“I know I’m sorry,” he strokes my cheek. “I would have gone if I could make it. Also don’t be mad.”

“Be mad?” I let go of the door handle. “What did you do?”

“Your TA stopped by, Bridget. I forgot she was coming so I didn’t have your papers ready. I invited her in and she was in the living room looking at our pictures and she stopped in front of the baby picture. Of our daughter.”

“Okay,” did Harry tell her our history? I get antsy. “And?”

“Well she asked if that was our daughter. And I didn’t know what to say, if you’ve said anything to her? I panicked?” Harry runs his hand through his hair. “I just changed the subject.”

“Okay, that’s not bad. What’s the bad part I don’t get it?”

“Well. I changed the subject and told her she should come to the wedding.”

My jaw drops. “Harry.”

“I know! I know I’m sorry! I know she technically works for you, she was a student, all that! You’re so fond of her though maybe it’s not a bad thing?”

“Harry that’s…she was my student! I’m a prof at that school I…is that even allowed?”

“Yes? I panicked and googled it.”

I groan, “I swear you’re getting worse the closer we get to the wedding.”

The other week he had tried to buy out a whole bakery in case there wasn’t enough cake for our guests.

“You can tell her we have a full guest list? I don’t know what came over me! She just looked at me with those puppy eyes and she asked about the picture and I tried to talk about something else but the only thing on my mind-“

I kiss him. Just to shut him up. I was getting really late.

“This is like that book club you were tricked into joining all over again-“

“Hey I really like that book club now! It might be a good thing!”

“We’ll talk later.” I shake my head at him. “It’s fine, it’s not a big deal. It’s weird but what’s one more guest?”

“I also said plus one.”

I let out a long exhale and then kiss Harry again. I didn’t want him spiralling while I was gone.

“Baby don’t worry, it’s okay. I’m fine with it. We’ll talk when I get home?”

I mull over it on the ride to uni. But I can’t find a way to uninvite her without it being awful. I text our wedding planner if we could squeeze in two more seats and she gives me the thumbs up.

I did have a soft spot for Bridget, and technically I’ve known her for over a year now.

During office hours, we get a few people in for the first half hour. Then we’re back to just the two of us.

“Thanks for taking over today,” I tell her. “I really appreciate it.”

“That’s alright. Happy to help out.”

An awkward silence slithers in.

“So my partner invited you to our wedding.”

“Yeah! I didn’t know if that was serious am I…?”

She looked so hopeful I couldn’t shoot her down. “Yes! I have a couple people from the faculty coming. And some colleagues from my day job. You’ll probably have to sit with them but?”

“That’s fine!” She’s chirpy Bridget again. “I’d love to. That would mean a lot.”

I watch her as the smile stays on and she gets out her phone, typing away. Maybe her friends, her plus one.

I realize I’m not entirely against it. It had happened, and I was okay.

***

I stare at myself in the mirror, smoothing down my dress in a nervous habit. I never thought I’d get married twice, I always thought after Tatum I was done with marriage, but Harry would always be the exception.

I feel a flutter of nerves thinking about him. Walking down the aisle to him. We started talking on a rooftop one day, we had just been two kids.

“You better not cry,�� Taylor threatens as she walks into the room. She had gone to fetch lash glue after my teary eyes loosened an edge.

“I’m not,” I say weakly.

She stands beside me in the mirror, “They’re all waiting downstairs.”

Just 30 minutes ago this room had been a chaotic mess. From my mum, to my friends, to the wedding planner. I’m kind of glad my lash came loose, I’m able to ground myself in these few minutes of silence.

Taylor talks about our family downstairs as she fixes my face. I get up with her help and she beams, but her eyes look misty.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing!”

“Why do you look sad what happened?”

“Oh my god calm down, I just can’t believe you and Harry are getting your happy ending! I’m just…emotional.”

“Aww,” I cup her face even though I want to squeeze my baby sister against me. But my white dress, although not entirely traditional, would be ruined for the ceremony.

A ping on her phone—mum. We rush out. It feels like getting caught when we were younger and quickly getting away from the scene of the crime. I grip my sister’s hand until I stand in front of the doors leading down the aisle.

I don’t remember walking, it felt more like floating. Even if there was a chimpanzee and a talking dog in the pews I wouldn’t have noticed. My eyes are locked on Harry’s teary ones, they anchor me as I glide towards the man I’ve never stopped loving. Who always saw all of me.

When he reaches for my hand I grasp it and I know I made the right decisions. Even the painful ones. After all, I wanted to be nowhere but here.

“Y/N,” Harry reads his vows to me and I try not to cry as he sweeps me away with his delicate words about our love story.

“To be so deeply known by another, without even saying a word, shouldn’t make sense and yet with us we have a language that goes beyond words. A brush of your hand or a look in my direction, it can be enough to unload whatever burden I’d just been carrying. I promise to do the same for you, and to never end this dialogue between us. To love you and to cherish you forever.”

Harry couldn’t keep the tears in and they slide down his cheeks as he reads his words out to me. I reach out instinctively and brush his tear away and he laughs because I was doing it again.

“You’re can’t make me cry in my makeup,” I tell him and our guests laugh.

I had sat and thought so hard about my own vows. In the end after 50 versions, I’d settled on short and sweet.

“Harry, when we first spoke on the rooftop of that party in high school,” I say at my turn. “You told me everything you wanted. One of them was to make the world a better place. And I don’t know if you still want those things as much now as you did then, but one thing is true. You’re made my world a better place. I can’t imagine doing life without you. I love you with all of my heart, there’s no equation that could calculate how much.”

Harry grins at me and my breath catches. My man, he was my Harry.

We finish our vows with a kiss and a lot of noise from the crowd. When we turn to everyone I’m struck by how lucky we were.

The absence of our daughter was tough but when it came to love we had an abundance of it. I see it in every smiling and shiny face in the crowd. It’s like photographing a sunny day with one of those old school films, the sun is covered by a dark spot but the rays still wash everything in gold.

Harry squeezes my hand and I look up to him. He’s already looking at me.

He holds his hand up and lets out a whoop before he pulls my face towards him again for an even longer and borderline inappropriate kiss. I feel myself start to blush in front of the crowd.

We start down the aisle and this time I beam at every guest I catch eyes with.

My mum and Harry’s wave with tear-streaked faces. My friends from high school shout out, always the biggest supporters of our relationship. I catch eyes with Bridget, forgetting for a second she was here. Philippe is beside her, but what’s surprising is her blotchy face. I didn’t take her for someone who got emotional at weddings. I throw her a wave and she smiles through the tears.

Whoever ordered weddings to have a small break between the ceremony and the reception deserved a billion dollars. Harry and I spend the quiet moment doing our outfit change but afterwards we hold each other and let the moment sink in. The day sink in.

“We’re married,” Harry whispers when I tell him we should get going so we weren’t late.

“We took the long way to get here didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” he tucks me under his chin again and even though we would be late we just sway together for a little while. Our own private first dance, before the one for our family and friends.

“We did it all quite backwards actually.” I look up to him.

“Yeah, but we were never ordinary.”

“No, and I don’t think anything we’ve ever done is either.”

“Including our kid. I really wish she were here.”

“We’ll tell her all about it one day,” I promise him. His face eases into a loving smile, the fact that we’d made it to a place again where I can comfort him about this said a lot. Said we’d make it through everything, despite.

“I don’t want to do life with anyone else y/n, I have everything I need right here.”

“Remember that day at Whole Foods?” I remind him. “The first time we bumped into each other.”

“It’s a core memory,” Harry remembers. “I feel like the sun never set on that day. Getting to see you after all those years…it’s cheesy but it felt like coming home.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Me too. I recognized you by the back of your head did I ever tell you that?”

“Stared at it enough in maths, of course you did.”

“That’s probably why I did so poorly that year remember,” I laugh. “Just staring at the back of your head.”

“That’s why I never sat anywhere but in front of you.” He swipes lightly down my nose and I smile. “Now I get to see every angle of you whenever I want.”

“Oi,” I slap his chest. “Save it for tonight.”

He brushes my cheek. Under his gaze I’m stripped naked. There was nothing to hide with him, ever.

“I understand how long it took you to get ready,” he says in his deep silky voice. My stomach flips. “So I can’t do anything right now. But y/n, our wedding night will turn into a wedding dawn, and then to day again. I promise you.”

I tip-toe, even in my heels, and brush my lips along his cheek. In his ear I whisper, “I don’t expect anything less.”

I step away, feeling unravelled by the look of desire in his eyes. I’m sure I had the same look of want. But before we can give in to what we wanted to do, I open the door to our suite and embrace the gust of cool air.

“You should get some air too,” I say and he laughs, following me behind.

***

“Bitch!” Taylor comes up to me on the dance floor later that night. We had dinner, Harry and I had our first dance, there’d been toasts and tears in between. I was finally letting loose as the wedding party crowds the dance floor. We had been taking pictures all night, after this next glass of champagne I was going to call it quits on photos lest anyone captures anything that’s not an elegant bride.

“What?” I turn away from Harry to face Taylor. She’d been running around all day making sure my wedding day was perfect and seeing her just warms me with love. I squeeze her against me despite her protests. “I love you Taylor. Thank you for everything!”

“Ugh c’mon,” she wriggles out. She’d never been very affectionate.

“Where’s your bloke?” I look out for him.

“He taking a call. Anyway don’t change the fucking subject!”

“What subject!?” I ask as someone dances past me, fluttering their fingers in my direction. I blow them a kiss.

“C’mere,” she’s annoyed I’m distracted. She drags me off to the side and I hold a finger up to Harry as he watches us. “When the fuck were you going to tell us about her? And you invite her to your wedding and everything and nobody knows anything!?”

“What?” I was drunker than I thought or Taylor was making no sense. “Wha?”

“The girl you just took a photo with? Don’t act stupid Y/N jeez I can’t believe it. You hid it from me when it happened but why are you still hiding…”

My sister grows more upset as she talks, I realize it was serious. Taylor rarely allowed herself to get this worked up in public.

I put my hand on her shoulder but she shakes it off. I think hard about who she was talking about. Who had I just taken photos with?

Some of Harry’s friends took a picture lifting us up, then there was a photo with my cousin but that can’t be who Taylor was talking about. There was Andie, a few other friends and their partners, then Bridget and Bridget and Philippe.

Bridget.

“Wait what are…who do you think that is? Taylor I work-“

“Your daughter! Why are you still acting fucking clueless!”

“What’s happening?” Harry walks in mid-way into the conversation.

“God you too!” Taylor turns to him and hits the back of her hand on his chest. He rubs the spot and stares at her like she’d gone crazy.

“Me too what?”

“Harry?” His mum walks up to us, her brows pulled together the same way Harry’s does when he’s confused.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s that girl? With the brown hair? Purple dress?”

She’s eyeing Bridget who’s laughing with Philippe.

“Bridget?” Harry glances at me and Taylor grows more pink.

“Bridget? That’s her name?” Taylor blinks away tears. “Really y/n? I get when it happened I was a child, you and mom kept it from me. But she’s, you invite her to you-“

“Invite who?!” I shout. What the hell did Taylor think.

“Y/n,” Harry puts his hand on my lower back in warning.

“Your daughter?” Taylor says with teary eyes and a look of betrayal on her face. “That’s your daughter isn’t it? She looks just like…”

“Jesus I thought the same thing,” Anne looks at all of us. “Harry?”

“That’s not-“ he stops talking and we all look over at her. I had to say, right now she really could be. With her hair curled and wearing what she’s wearing. She could be family.

“She’s my TA. I’ve known her for a couple years guys I’ve bloody taught her. That’s not our daughter. She wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight? Harry invited her last minute.”

They all turn to look at me. Taylor looks miffed, she bites her lip as she looks at her one last time.

“That’s weird. Nevermind.”

She leaves like she didn’t just make a big scene. Anne covers her hand with her mouth and shakes her head. “I’m sorry loves, I didn’t mean to upset anyone-“

“You didn’t do anything,” I reassure her. Taylor did. And she couldn’t even say sorry.

“Don’t worry mum,” Harry pays her arm. She fades into the crowd and Harry stands in front of me so all I see is him. “She’ll get air, she’ll be fine.”

“But how could she just cause such a big scene like I’d hide something like that from her? On my wedding day! And then leave without even apologizing ugh! She is still such a brat sometimes!”

“I know, she’ll apologize later just let her be.” He knew Taylor enough. He knew her at 13 and he knew her now. That’s exactly what she would do. “We’re getting you a shot.”

“That’s the last thing I need! I’m already kinda tipsy Har.”

“This won’t tip you over c’mon. Shake it off.”

He leads me to the bar and we take a shot. I nearly spill half of it, it was awful whatever it was. I lose Harry as we get back to the dancing and end up behind Bridget instead. Philippe noticed me first and slows his dancing, which signals Bridget to turn around.

“Y/n!” Her smile is so bright it hurts to look at. It dims as I just stare at her.

It would be crazy. It was a big fat coincidence. She had a mum, a dad, a sister, she told me all about them. Her childhood dog and the time she twisted her ankle playing football in year 4. She wasn’t who we wanted her to be.

“Are you alright?” I read her lips. There’s only ringing in my ears. “Hey! Y/n!”

Philippe is suddenly on my other side and I’m being led to a chair. He disappears and Bridget pulls a chair beside me.

“What’s,” my voice sticks and I clear my throat. “What’s going on between you two? He’s your date?”

“Philippe?” Bridget’s brows draw together and I can’t stop looking at where they meet. I knew her. I didn’t know her. I was too afraid to ask. “No just friends.”

“That’s not the way he’s looking at you.”

“What?” She tucks her hair back. “No we’ve been friends since high school. It’s not like that?”

“What would you do if he got a girlfriend?” It was a random conversation to have, here and right now but it helps me from tumbling anywhere else. Especially into a pool of what-ifs.

“I’d,” she shrugs but a flicker passes through her face, for a second her jaw clenches. “Be happy for him.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not! Why are you asking?”

“You two like each other. I see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. Why did you invite him tonight?”

She shrugs, picking at something on her arm. “I dunno. He’s good at being a plus one. He always supports me? He’s always been there for me.”

“Sorry,” he shows up with a glass of water. “I swear the guy behind the bar was ignoring me.”

“Thank you Philippe,” by now I didn’t really need the water but I hold the icy glass in my hands. “Let’s see the pictures you took. I want them in my inbox or something soon. We don’t get our official photos for months.”

“Oh yeah here,” Phillipe hands over his phone after opening the photo. There are a couple of all of us, and then a few with just Bridget standing between Harry and I smiling.

I look between all three of us and feel something in my gut. But it’s too scary and big to unpack right now. I shove it away. I couldn’t do this. Not today, not tonight.

“You look beautiful Bridget,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Did I already say that?”

“Yeah,” she smiles awkwardly. “You said that before the photo.”

“You do. And so do you Philippe. Thank you for attending my wedding.”

“Thanks for inviting us,” Bridget looks at me wide-eyed, like she’s about to say something but when Philippe’s hand lands on her shoulder she looks down.

“What?” I ask anyway. Her eyes dart like prey to me, to Philippe, and down to her hands. I grab her hand and force her to look at me, like I could read something in her eyes. Like I would know. “Bridget.”

She looks up and her eyes well with tears as we look into each other’s eyes. My throat feels tight like I was having an allergic reaction, it travels down to my chest, I inadvertently feel myself squeezing her hand.

“I’m so-“

“Bridget,” Philippe’s voice cuts through whatever Bridget was going to apologize for. I look up at him and he’s burning a hole staring at her that hard. Over his head I see Harry.

“Oh look I see my husband,” Harry’s spots me too, relief in his features. His eyes stay on my face as he walks towards me and his eyes keep my steady. I want to tell him something, but everything that just happened was so non-verbal and unreal that I think I made it all up. I must be because this was insane and there was no explanation other than I was drunk, and sadder than I realized. “Gotta go kids. Have fun. I think I need another shot.”

I remember the rest of the night in snapshots. I forget myself later, giving myself up to Harry after that. We actually make it to dawn in a mixture of love and declarations, filthy words and I love yous, laughter and deeper conversations. It’s everything we were. It’s just like he promised.

***

Life moves on and I don’t bring anything up to Harry. I couldn’t, either I’m wrong and get his hopes up, or he thinks I’d gone insane in my sadness.

I feel like Bridget avoids me the week after, I return to class and she sits there, even takes questions after class, but she makes an excuse of studying during office hours and I barely get a few words with her. The week after she has an exam and she skips out after class.

I’m antsy. I want to know more about her; from her. I’m tempted to find a way to access her profile, get more info via the school. But I wait.

Harry notices, as we prep for our honeymoon booked over the holidays, he continues to ask if I was alright. And I try to convince us both I was.

About 3 weeks after the wedding, it’s a Saturday afternoon. Harry’s making lunch and I’m sitting in a pile of our books trying to decide what can be donated.

“Can you get that?” Harry asks.

“Hm?”

“The door?” He says just as there’s another knock. I’d been so entranced in the book I’d randomly started reading a passage of I hadn’t even heard.

I scramble to get it before the next knock and nearly stumble back when I find Bridget at the door.

“Hiya,” she says with an awkward wave.

“Hi…Bridget. What…come in what’s going on?”

“Sorry? Now that I’m here I should have called first.” She comes in and I go further in, waiting for her to follow. She hesitates before peeling her wet boots off.

“Harry? We have a guest,” I announce as I take her further into the home. I guess she’d already been here once before. “Bridget what can we do you for? Did you need something?”

“Bridget!” Harry pops out of the kitchen into the adjoined living room when we get closer. “Nice to see you again! I’m nearly done lunch, did you want to stay?”

What was it with Harry randomly inviting Bridget to things that were not pre-discussed.

“Um, I no. I probably shouldn’t. I just, came by to talk?”

“Sure,” I lead her to our dining table. “Is it about school? Did something happen?”

I sit across from her and Harry mumbles something, turning the dials down on the stovetop before sitting beside me.

Bridget’s eyes dart everywhere, from me to Harry, to the pictures on the wall, the kitchen, the books all over the floor.

“I was just doing a clearout,” I say to fill the silence. “Hey you like books right? Look through that pile there later if you want any of ‘em.”

“Actually,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. I feel Harry tense beside me. “I have a book for you.”

She leans down to where her tote rests and pulls something out. She lays it on her lap first, where we can’t see it. When she looks up to us she has tears in her eyes and her chin quivers.

“Please,” she whispers before pausing. My stomach drops as I take her in. Her face is blotchy and her hair hangs around her face, hiding half of it. She’s definitely cried before coming here, and I almost feel like deja vu as she places the book on the table. “Please don’t hate me.”

She slides it across to us. It’s just a simple leather hardcover, about 30cm by 30cm. The thing in my gut, the suspicion or the intuition, it turns into a cackling ball of energy and moves up to my sternum. I put my hand over it, and then move it to Harry’s leg. He’s frozen like a statue, staring at the book.

“Please open it?” Bridget says with tears streaking her face.

When Harry doesn’t make a move I pull it the rest of the way towards us. I open the first page to a few baby pictures.

I’d never held her in my hands, never even saw her. I’d pushed her out into this world, into another’s arms. But somehow I know who this is.

“Bridget,” I don’t even look at her. I start to frantically flip through the pages. The baby grows, 2 months, 6 months, 1 years old. Another girl joins in some photos, she always has an arm around the other child. I flip and flip and flip and even though I’m expecting it the photo stops my breathing.

I stare at the clone, or the original, of the photo on my fridge.

I’m frozen until another photo is slid towards us. It comes into view: two teenagers on Halloween night. The guy is dressed like the girl, the girl is dressed like the guy.

I throw my chair back and in the time it takes to walk to Bridget she stands too.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs but I just do what I wanted to do the second she was born.

I hug her. I hold her to my chest the way I never got to over 19 years ago. She belonged here. She never got to be here.

She was finally home. My daughter.

“Bridget,” I cry into her hair. Harry’s hair. She had Harry’s hair, his eyes. She got my nose and everything else. I was holding my daughter. She was in my arms, finally.

She really did look like Taylor as a baby.

“I’m sorry,” she cries again. “I was so scared and I screwed up and-“

“No.” I say fiercely. I push her out of the hug so I can grab her face. I wipe her tears and I nearly cry again. How many tears had I missed? Over skinned knees, playground taunts, first crushes and friendship breakups. How many tears had I missed? “Don’t say that. You’re here. You’re—Harry!”

I turn to him, why wasn’t he here?

He’s sat exactly where he was before. Frozen, staring at a spot between the picture of us and Bridget.

I let go of Bridget and move back to him.

“Baby,” I touch his arm and he springs up. Tears coat his lashes.

“‘Scuse me,” he brushes past me and heads out into the hall. Away from us. I want to go after him but I don’t want to leave Bridget—our daughter, alone.

“I’m sorry I knew I would ruin things I-“

“Please,” I want to go after him so bad but I go to Bridget and pull her into a gentler hug. When we part I keep hold of her shoulders. I never wanted to let her go. “He’s just processing it. He’s fine. He’s not mad at you I promise. Promise.”

She bites her lip, it reminds me of Taylor. She was a bit of everyone I knew and loved. She was the love that Harry and I always had. She was ours.

“I just got so scared when I tried to reach…I didn’t mean to deceive you. I didn’t. I felt terrible every day.”

“It’s okay,” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “There’s nothing to be sorry about-“

“But I saw you,” she cuts me off. “After I finally called you back and then just like, ghosted you. And every time I saw you at school it was like…I knew I was to blame. And it made me want to tell you even more but I got more scared any time I came close to it. I almost said it at your wedding—it would have been so stupid. Philippe stopped me.”

“I understand,” I did. I also didn’t care about any of it. She was here. That’s all I cared about. I wanted to know everything about her, I needed Harry here though. “Look Harry…your…Harry. I’m just going to check on him. You stay here and just…”

I trail off and leave. I had to be sure he was okay.

He’s not in the bedroom, or the office. I try the door to the toilet and it opens, he’s sitting on the edge of the tub with his head in his hands.

“She leave?” He asks in a hoarse voice.

“Oh baby,” I crouch in front of him. “No. She’s still here but I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m pathetic,” he buries his hands in his hair. “I’ve been waiting my whole adult life for this and all I do is freeze. Her first impression is of her dad just freezing and then running away.”

I try not to laugh at his dramatic retelling. “Har you know that’s not true. She’s known you before this. It was a shock-“

“You were fine.”

“You know I…always suspected. Especially after the wedding.”

He looks up at that, finally. “You never said.”

“Harry, I felt crazy. Saying it out loud would have forced me to check myself into the psych ward. We all react differently, it doesn’t matter though. Our baby girl is here. The day we talked about!”

He takes a deep breath, and then another one. I guide him to stand and he looks so limp and sad that I squeeze him in a hug. “She doesn’t care how you reacted. She just wants to know you.”

Harry sighs again, he splashes his face with water and we walk out. I was nervous for him.

We walk back into the living room and my heart sinks when Bridget isn’t there. But her things are?

A few steps further and she’s at the stovetop, stirring a pot.

“Oh sorry,” she steps back and nearly throws the spatula into the pot. “It was boiling a lot and-“

“Bridget,” Harry ignores most of what she’s saying and she freezes at the sound of her name. He’s a foot away from her now. I watch him raise a hand to her face and then drop it. His face is a cross between heartbreak and awe as they drink each other in. I wait in anticipation.

“Hi,” she finally says shyly. But it breaks the ice. Harry pulls her into a hug and she returns it tenfold from the looks of it. I can’t tell who’s crying, but I give them their moment as I turn the dials off on the stovetop.

It was just a regular Saturday, except it wasn’t. Our worlds exploded with our past and was putting itself back together again, all the old broken pieces were being mended back together with love. My chest drowns in it, I can barely breathe. In Harry’s arms, there’s no denying she’s ours.

***

“Thank you,” Bridget says as we tuck into dinner. Harry’s lunch prep had gone cold as we’d all sat down and talked about how Bridget found us (looking me up, finding out I was teaching a course she was interested in, forcing her friend Philippe to take it to see if I was who she thought I was), and going through her album. I found out more about her sister Louisa and her parents. It was weird seeing pictures of them, in my mind they were the people that took my baby as their own and for Bridget they were mum and dad.

We finally decide to do something about food when our stomachs rumble. Harry goes back to cooking, showing Bridget what he’s doing until she leaves to take a call. I recognize Philippe on the caller ID.

I take Bridget’s place but I’m more of an extra weight tied to Harry’s back as I hug hun from behind. We don’t even have words on what this all means to us. For now, just touching each other keeps us grounded, it keeps is in what was happening together.

Bridget comes back from the call when we’re nearly done.

“I just want to say I am sorry��and I know you said not to be,” Bridget says quickly before I can get a word in. “But I never meant to deceive the both of you. My plan was to take your class, leave the letter and then talk. I Googled you so much it felt like I knew you. Yet when we spoke in your office that day, you felt familiar but In a different way than the person I studied. I just liked you so much, and I wanted you to like me. I was scared maybe you wouldn’t. So I just screwed the plan and messed up everything.”

“Hey,” Harry hands her a tissue and she takes it. Under the table he squeezes my hand. “It’s in the past.”

“I know. Still made me feel awful. And I couldn’t tell you but I also couldn’t stay away. I applied for TA and, it felt like having a friend and a sister and a mentor all in one. And I…I screwed up. I took it too far. And then you invited me to your wedding—I got to attend my parents’ wedding! It was so absurd. I couldn’t stop crying.”

Sounded like me. But I don’t say anything. We listen to her attentively.

“I only told my sister. I wanted to tell you two before I told my parents.”

I think about my parents. Harry’s. I didn’t want to overwhelm her but I couldn’t wait to introduce her to everyone that already loved her.

“I just hope…no, I know I hurt you two a lot. I didn’t mean to. I am really sorry about it all.”

“Bridget,” Harry’s hand comes down on hers. “What’s done is over. There are so many things we wish we did differently but ultimately it’s all done. All that matters is you’re here, now. You’re our daughter we never got to meet and you’re finally here.”

Harry’s voice cracks on the last word and he sits back and laughs away the tears. “Sorry. I’m a mess today aren’t I? Your first impression of me is a crying mess.”

“That’s not my first impression,” Bridget laughs but her eyes also fill with tears. “That night at the pub. When I saw you two together I nearly bloody fainted! When I looked you up y/n, there’d been an old wedding registry with another bloke. But then seeing you two together?! I just couldn’t believe it—I thought I dreamed it. And then I nearly cried because my bio parents were somehow together?? And the way you just stared into my soul it felt like you knew who I was.”

I laugh, remembering but also knowing exactly what look Bridget was talking about. “He does have a piercing look doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. It could gut someone!”

“That makes it sound awful!” Harry laughs. “Don’t say that.”

“It nearly gutted me! I really thought oh shite—“ Bridget freezes and looks between us like we were gonna scold her for swearing and I nearly leap across the table to hug her again then. “I uhm, I thought you knew who I was.”

“We thought it then,” I let my eyes roam over her. I realize I’d always been a mother, despite not having my daughter. Holding her earlier had awoken an instinct in me and now every time I look at her I feel a rush of love and something fierce. I wonder if Harry felt it too. “But we thought we were mental!”

Her phone chimes as we laugh. She flips it around and then tucks it into her purse.

“You need to take that?” Harry asks.

“No it’s just Philippe. He was at the wedding? I was just talking to him, I hadn’t texted him in a while he wanted to know how it went.”

“Philippe,” I say with a knowing smile. Bridget blushes and Harry asks what he’s missing out on so I fill him in.

“He sounds like a good lad,” Harry comments.

“A good lad?” I repeat. “Are you hearing him?”

Bridget laughs behind her hand and I can’t stop staring at her. I have to force myself to go back to eating.

“He is. I might have told him about how I felt?”

“Wow,” I put my fork down. “You’re confessing an awful lot lately.”

She blushes even deeper. And suddenly I’m grateful of the weird and layered way she’d come into our lives. Despite hiding the truth, it had allowed us to get to know each other as people first. Without any baggage or give me any inclination to fit who I thought she should be onto who was in front of me.

I got to know her for the young woman she was first, so did Harry in a way. And I would be forever grateful for that despite all the pain in between.

“Sorry,” I get up. The affection was overflowing from my cup. “I’m going to give you another hug because I just can’t believe all this.”

“Ohh,” Bridget stands to meet me and we wrap our arms around each other. Here was a girl I already knew, here was my daughter waiting to be known.

“God, she really is our daughter.” Harry quips from his side of the table. He explains when Bridget looks over at him, “y/n is known to be a big touchy person, I’m kinda like that too.”

“Oh my god,” she smiles at us. “I’m like that too! My sister hates hugs. My dad’s 2 pats on the back man, 3 if he’s feeling a lot. I always wondered if…”

She trails off. It seems to hit all of us all over again every so often. For me it’s when she talks about her mum and dad and it’s not Harry and I. The reminder that she went 19 years becoming her own person that we now were catching up on.

For her, it seems it was realizing all the parts of us that were in her.

“You got Harry’s hair, and eyes.” I comment.

“I did! I realized that as soon as I saw a photo online. But I do look a bit like you.”

“You do! I should show you some younger pictures of us and our families. You’ll see more similarities.”

“Wow. So you have a younger sister. How about you Harry?”

“Older sister. Seems we all have sisters.”

Bridget and I make eye contact, remembering a conversation we had what feels like ages ago about having sisters.

We continue our dinner, swapping stories and filling her in on anything she wants to know. She leaves after, claiming to have to get back home, she had an exam on Monday to study for.

When she leaves Harry and I can’t stop talking about her. Or gushing would be more accurate.

“Did you see the way she laughs?” I’d tell him. “Pure you!”

“The way she tucks her hair back,” he would retaliate. “Just like you. You did that especially back in secondary.”

We talk until we’re exhausted, crawling into bed just staring in wonder. There were still so many details to figure out, so many things to cover, it could drown a person thinking of it all.

But like an anchor in the sea, Harry and I fall asleep with hand clasped together. We keep each other buoyed amidst it all.

It was going to take time for this all to sink in but all I’ve ever had was time, and questions. I think I was finally getting time and answers.

Age 39:

Harry’s pov: Having our daughter in our lives is simple and complicated at the same time. At first there were a lot of things to untangle but as time went on, the knots loosened until our lives became their own knots, tangled into each other.

Meeting her parents, the people I met once many years ago, was likely the strangest part. They already felt so familiar as soon as they greeted us in a warm embrace, as if we were there own children. I guess the last time they saw us we were.

“Oh look at you,” Bridget’s mum had squeezed us tight. Her dad had pat us three times and we took it to mean as much as a hug.

In my mind they were always the age they had been then. They were probably around the age we are now. Seeing them sport greys and fine lines, it was like stepping into a time portal.

Lou, Bridget’s sister, eyes us for the first little while before warming up and sharing all kinds of stories—especially the embarrassing kind with us.

When Bridget meets Y/n’s family, I can tell they’re loud and overwhelming at first but we’re all surprised when Taylor embraces Bridget and takes to her immediately.

She brings out old pictures they had of Y/N and I, but every time she says, “your mum and dad…” when she talks about us through the pictures, I notice y/n protesting less and less.

It makes me feel funny, I keep thinking I was going to wake up and find out it had all been a dream.

“This feels very full circle to me,” y/n’s mum says. She’s watching Taylor talk about her baby bump—she was 3 months along. “I saw Bridget as a wee baby when they handed her over to her parents. I remember running late to hospital and making it to the room just in time to see it. I blinked and now she’s in my living room!”

“Sometimes I feel the same way,” I confess.

My family is slightly quietier but they all fuss over our daughter. They ask a million questions and when it’s all over we take Bridget for ice cream. It’s a pseudo-recreation of a life we never had.

Bridget eases into it too. At first she had bouts of disappearing on us. No more than a couple days. But we give her space, understanding it was overwhelming.

Every time I see her, I see her mum—y/n. I was never there when y/n gave birth. We had to drive up from London when we got the news and by the time I got there the dust had settled.

I never even had the potential of seeing her. I’d always been more sympathetic of y/n; her loss had been physical, mine was slightly more abstract.

Even though I’d spent every year since regretting that I wasn’t there to at least glimpse her, I’m glad now I hadn’t been there to see her. If I had to live the last 18 years with this feeling in my chest I don’t think I could have lasted that long. I don’t know how y/n did it. It’s a concoction of deep unconditional love, and tenderness, and recognition, wrapped in a shell of protectiveness. It took me a while to sort through it all but I had a conversation with my parents one night at dinner Y/n and I had visited. And they’d laughed because they had told me that was simply what being a parent was.

“Maybe she regrets it,” I had said the second time she ghosted us. Really it had just been over a day where she hadn’t gotten back to us. But I couldn’t help the overthinking, being tuned into any potential of loss with our daughter.

Somehow, y/n was the cool headed between us two in these moments. Maybe it was being a mum, maybe it was knowing Bridget beforehand, but she was very in sync with her.

“She needs space. The last thing we want her to be is overwhelmed too. Now don’t overwhelm yourself love, at least she’s in our lives.” She’d say.

It takes us the start of the summer and all those meets later for Bridget to finally feel at ease.

We invite her on a road trip, we were renting a place in the Cotswold for a few days and told her to bring Philippe. When she doesn’t even hesitate to say yes Y/n tells me we’d done it: she was finally more comfortable than overwhelmed.

“Y/N made me a better man,” I say after a couple drinks. We’re all sat around a fire outside the house. Despite it being a warm day of hiking the night had cooled significantly and we’d decided that boozy hot cocoas was the way to go. “I’ve lost my ways a lot of times as an adult. But she’s always been my north star. Even when we got back together she led me to being sober and getting my shite together.”

“Oh…” Philippe looks down at his drink. “Are you…”

“No,” I laugh, Philippe was the most-conscientious teen I’d ever met. “I got sober to get my life in order. But…it’s in order now. I haven’t done anything crazy for over a year now.”

A little before our wedding I decided I wanted to end my sobriety. It had been a thought for months, and I had waited before giving in. But I really felt more in control of my life. I faced my life decisions head on, I confronted my past with y/n’s help, and I didn’t think I’d lose control again. It had been a shaky first week but I was right. It was a proud moment for me.

“You two really have something special,” Bridget comments.

“They do,” Philippe adds. “I can’t believe you got your happy ending after so many years!”

“Yeah,” y/n says as I lay my hand on her thigh, palm up. “Y’know what they say about loving someone and letting them go.”

“I guess you did that with me,” Bridget says so quietly we almost don’t hear her. But out here in the countryside we do.

“We didn’t want to,” I remind her.

“No I know.” She smiles, it’s a bit sad. Philippe tugs her closer. I could see how much he cared for her in that small gesture. “I’m not saying it like that. I hear your story and I just imagine how different my life would have been if I was raised by my, by you two. I wouldn’t have this life. And I really like this life.”

She looks at Philippe and I feel y/n squeeze my hand. She often said they reminded her of us when we were younger; the kind of love you’d do anything for.

“But you two loved me enough to let me go. To let each other go. It’s fucking sad but it’s beautiful. Life’s weird.”

“Here here,” Y/N raises her nearly empty cup of hot cocoa. “Life’s weird, sad, beautiful, but lately my life’s been full of so much love. I wish I could sell all the excess, I think I could solve a lot of world problems with it.”

“Wow,” I lean over and kiss the top of her head. “That’s one hell of a speech.”

“I have a speech,” Philippe stands, a little tipsy, and clears his throat. Bridget rolls her eyes but they shine for him. “Bridget you’re the love of my life. Since we were 13. But Harry and Y/N, I think I love you too. Ever since we were 15, I’ve watched Bridge struggle for answers about her past. And you two have given her all the answers, welcomed her—and me actually, into your lovely life. I’ve watched her become old Bridge but even more confident. I’m falling harder for her these days. And I can’t thank you guys enough.”

“Aw Philippe come here,” y/n lets of my hand to walk around and give him a hug. How quickly strangers became family.

Bridget grumbles about being left out and joins the hug. Soon I join in too. I want to create a mold of this moment, I think as I squeeze them against me, I’d make it out of plaster and let it dry. Any time we wanted, we could always find our way back to this moment here.

Age 40:

Y/N and I watch our daughter cross the stage. Beside us are our parents and in front of us sits Bridget’s parents and her sister. She has a whole army cheering for her. This was the first milestone event we could all really show up for, and show up we did.

“I can’t believe this,” I was so proud of her. I know the kudos went to her parents, and herself, but I beam with pride. Honestly Bridget could spin in a circle in front of me and I would be a proud dad.

“We need to get photos,” mum leans over and says so seriously, as if we hadn’t planned on getting a million already.

We have a framed picture in our hall, Y/N and I on our wedding day, our daughter in between us. Her graduation photo is definitely making it. She makes fun of this wall, calls it the Styles hall of fame, and I never mention it but she always lingers a few second longer in front of the photo of the three of us.

I do too.

“It makes me so sad you won’t be so close to me anymore,” my mum tells Bridget later. We’re all piled in our flat, drinks and celebratory cake in everyone’s hands.

It reminds me of mine and y/n’s 40th birthday, we had gathered our family and friends here and it was some of their first times meeting our daughter. Today is more intimate, and focused on Bridget.

“I know it makes me sad too, but I’ll be here often, visiting Philippe.”

“Only visiting Philippe?” I raise a brow.

“Is there someone else I’m supposed to be visiting?” She mirrors my raised brow.

As Bridget’s gotten more comfortable, me and her could banter for hours if you let us, it’s one of those things that brought us closer together—having the same sense of humour. It’s allowed us to have just as deep heart-to-hearts, a handy joke always close to the surface.

Y/N always says seeing me like that, thoughtful and silly, reminds her of the boy she fell for. I can’t deny that I’ve been feeling closer to my 20 year old self than my 40 year old self lately.

“She’s too cheeky,” Bridget’s mum says. “But I have to say I’ll be glad to have her back.”

Lou, Bridget’s sister, was moving to Wales. Apparently she wanted to know more about her background, and take a trip with her bio mum to visit her bio dad.

I think Bridget was moving back to Coventry to keep her parents’ loneliness away; she said she would commute to Birmingham for school. Even though she got accepted into law schools in London, going to a uni close to her parents just showed me how close she was to her parents. It was a bittersweet feeling.

“I’ll have somebody to watch cricket with again,” her dad says.

“Ohh,” Bridget throws her sister a side-eye. “I love cricket…”

We all laugh at her complete lack of concealing her true feelings.

Later that night, it’s just Bridget’s parents and us. The kids are on the balcony talking.

“I know we’ve said it before,” I say after a long silence. We’d just been watching the kids talk and laugh outside. “But I want to say thank you again.”

Bridget’s dad shakes his head. “It was the greatest pleasure of our lives getting to raise those two girls.”

He looks over at his wife and they smile at one another. Seeing them interact, I’m grateful that somehow fate had led us to them. While Y/N and I were figuring life out, while I fucked up a lot of things, she was raised on a steady and stable foundation.

“She’s incredible,” I murmur. “She’s gonna be a lawyer. She’s going to change the world.”

“She sure will,” her mum says. “We should be thanking you two. For giving us Bridget. I know it wasn’t easy, you told me you thought about her nearly every day. But we can’t imagine our lives without her.”

We sit in a comfortable silence, looking out at the kids until they notice and start to ask questions through the glass.

“She’s happier,” her mum says smiling at Bridget and Lou exaggerating their words through the glass. “She stopped being like this before she left for uni. We thought we lost her but…I think everything worked out for the best.”

Y/N glances at me. Her eyes crinkle when she finds me looking at her first, her eyes steady me as she says what I was thinking, “I think so too.”

Age 45

Your pov: “When did she say she would be here?”

“6?” Harry says for the tenth time.

“It’s 6:20 do you think something happened? She hasn’t texted has she?”

“My love,” Harry puts down the cutlery he was arranging on the table and holds my face in his hands. “They’re driving from Coventry, they probably hit some traffic.”

“Maybe I should call her?”

Harry sighs and squishes my face.

“Don’t! You’ll make more wrinkles.” I warn.

“I love your wrinkles,” Harry kisses my forehead right where the pesky wrinkles had been growing deeper over the last few years despite the additions to my night routine.

Harry always said our wrinkles were just the stories of our lives showing through. I told him to get himself undereye cream.

“You don’t think I’m aging handsomely?” He strokes the moustache he started growing last year. At this age, even I couldn’t deny it made him even more attractive.

“Well it’s no good if you’re ageing handsomely and I age like a troll.”

“I will love you if you age into a troll.”

“But will you love me if I turn into a worm?”

“Do you even have to ask? I’d buy you the best soil and keep you in a beautiful pot.”

“You wouldn’t take me fishing?” I ask. He sighs. Last year while we were taking a trip up north for Lou’s wedding, we’d gotten into a fight and when I asked him the question while he was still stewing he said he’d take me fishing. It had, ironically, broken the iciness of his anger and we’d laughed about it so hard he’d nearly had to pull over.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he wraps me into his chest nearly suffocating me.

I’d spent half my life with a lot of difficulties, but life now felt easy compared to it. I had the privilege of getting older with the man I adored, got to watch my daughter flourish as an adult and a lawyer, watch her get married to the love of her life, and all the while live comfortably in the heart of this city I called home.

When Bruno starts barking though, I gasp and push myself off of Harry, “that’s them!”

Bruno continues to bark as I rush to the door. We’d got him a couple years ago as a pup and I can’t believe it had taken us that long to get a dog. He filled our lives with laughter and long walks. We loved him.

“Down.” I say to him. I open the door and hold my hands out while Bruno runs in circles beside me.

“Ahhh sorry we’re late!” Bridget steps into my hug and I tug Philippe’s hood so he can join. Bruno goes for Philippe when they walk in, he’d gotten obsessed with him after Philippe took care of him while Harry and I took an anniversary trip last year.

“Where are my hellos!?” Bridget says to Bruno and he barks, standing on his back legs to paw at her leg.

I hadn’t seen the two of them since March, that was 6 months ago. It had been their wedding, and they’d gone on a month long honeymoon after that, after which Harry and I had taken time off to road trip around Europe with Bruno, and then time had just zipped by.

After a hearty dinner, Harry and I carry out the birthday cake we’d been hiding.

“You didn’t have to do this!” Bridget fans her face but we treat it like we do any special occasion, plus making up for all the ones we’d missed. We get photos and exchange presents, she cries reading the cards and the whole time she says she had a present for us.

It’s a small bag, Harry and I guess that it was something for Bruno but when we take out a box it doesn’t sound like much when we shake it.

“Is this a prank gift? There’s nothing in it?” Harry asks.

“Open it!” He was making me antsy.

“You open it,” he hands me the box. Bridget and Philippe stare intently at my hands.

I undo the bow and slowly open the box. There’s a small square of tissue paper, and then a piece of paper. I remove both but something catches my eye.

I flip the paper over and stop breathing.

“Is that-“ Harry stops talking too. We stare at the piece of paper in our hands. It looks so much like one I had held 28 years ago. But it’s not.

“Bridge,” I look up at the couple. The parents-to-be.

“We’re having a baby,” Bridget says. Philippe and her are gripping hands and I throw everything off of me to launch myself at her.

“A baby!” I hear Harry say and joining us. “You’re having a baby! Y/n!”

“I never thought we’d be grandparents,” I look up at Harry.

“Those wrinkles were coming in for a reason,” he teases.

We never did have any other kids. Quite frankly, neither of us wanted any. When we first got together we were just starting to get comfortable with the reminder that we had a daughter out there and we could talk about her freely with each other. It felt like having a third person in our little family.

After Harry proposed, while we planned our wedding, we talked about it but we never thought it felt right. We both had first marriages where a lack of conceiving had just put a strain on the relationship we didn’t think we needed. We’d also felt like it was betraying something, before we met our first child.

When Bridget did reach out, it became about catching up on lost time. And then with her in our lives we knew what we suspected all along. We had each other, and that was enough. Bridge was our bonus. And getting to be aunt and uncle to our nieces and nephews it was enough. It was a full enough life.

We never even dreamed in our 20s we’d get to be parents and now we would get to be grandparents! I never realized until this moment that I wanted this. Really wanted it.

“Do you know the gender?” Harry asks.

“No,” Philippe answers. “We were thinking of doing one of those reveal parties? But not for a couple months.”

“Wow,” my hands drift down to Bridget’s belly and I remember I had something. I leap away from the group and find the box in my closet, it’s painted pink with random collages from old magazines. It hosts old diaries, photos, a hospital bracelet, and an ultrasound.

“This was you once,” I show her the picture when I get back. “I carried you like that once upon a time.”

She takes it with teary eyes, holding it close to her face to make out the shape of her. She hands it to Philippe and grabs my hands.

“I’ve thought about it before, but when I got pregnant I couldn’t wait to tell you-“

“She kept telling me I had to make a trip out to London just so she could give you the news.” Philippe interrupts, eyes scanning the ultrasound still.

“No really,” Bridget laughs. “I did. It’s like I got this new perspective.”

She puts my hands on her belly and covers mine with hers. I feel everything at once then, all the heartbreak I ever went through to get here.

“I can’t imagine giving this baby up. And it’s barely 3 months. What you were willing to do to give me a better life-“

She breaks off and Philippe squeezes her shoulder. I watch my daughter try to gain control of her emotions. I remember when I was pregnant with her, anything would set me off.

“It must not have been easy. After carrying me like this for 9 whole months. Thank you-“ she looks up to where Harry’s standing. I barely register his hand on my shoulder. “Thank you as my mum and dad, for making the hardest decision I can imagine ever making, so I could have something you knew you couldn’t provide.”

I reel my tears in, save them for later that night in bed while Harry holds me tight against him.

Right now I kiss my daughter and tell her what a good mother she will make. I tell her and Philippe how proud I was of them, how excited, how wonderful this was.

Age 46

The day we meet our granddaughter is seared into my brain. We get the call at 8:35pm, Harry and I were staying in a B&B in Coventry despite Bridget’s mum insisting we stay with her. We’d been here all weekend, booked it all week, not wanting to miss Bridget’s delivery date.

“Y/N she’s here,” her mum whispers into the phone. Her voice is filled with joy and giddiness. “She’s here.”

“We’re coming,” I say. Harry’s already at the door and we rush out into the night to see our granddaughter.

She has the perfect little face, and when she finally wakes up I gasp when I see Harry’s eyes looking back at me. I turn to him, to see if he noticed, but he’s teary-eyed and gazing at the baby in awe. I soak it in for a second, imagining this exact look if we’d kept our baby so many years ago.

Bridget’s parents had given us the room, to give us a moment alone, and I can’t be more grateful. Bridget encourages us to hold her and as her soft body is pressed into my body I let out a sob and hand her over to Harry. I excuse myself and step outside the room.

Lou’s kids sit on the floor outside, playing with whatever toys are spilling out of a miniature backpack. I focus on the flashy colours, trying to calm down, counting the number of toys falling out.

My life was a 180 from 10 years ago. This moment would go down in our history books as one of the best days of our lives.

But I can’t deny the bittersweet. The experience threatens to push me into the bitter past of not even getting to hold Baby Bridget. But with it comes an undeniable sweetness of getting to experience this now.

I take a deep breath and walk back in. Harry and Bridget stop mid-sentence and turn to me. Bridget’s face is streaked with tears, Harry’s looks concerned but I smile. He sits with the pink bundle to his chest and I ache.

“Don’t look so obvious you were talking about me,” I try a joke.

“Are you alright?” Bridget asks.

“May I hold her?” I ask in return.

I sit on the edge of the bed and she’s placed in my arms; she’s perfect. Just as perfect as Bridget must have been.

“She’s got Philippe’s hair,” I gently stroke the wispy blonde strands.

“She’s got my eyes, her grandpa’s eyes.”

I look at Harry. And he catches the stricken look on my face when Bridget tips forward and whispers to her baby.

“Look baby, this is your mumma’s mum, and your mumma’s dad. You’ve got his beautiful eyes. Say hi to grandma!”

My throat tightens. “Bridge.”

She leans away, her eyes dart between us. “I know I call you Y/N and Harry. It made it easier at first but…you are my mum and dad. Even though I have another pair. You are my mum and dad. And I want her to know you like that.”

“Oh love,” Harry leans down and kisses the top of our daughter’s head. She keeps her green eyes trained on me, grasping my hand that’s wrapped under her baby’s.

I mouth a thank you, my voice couldn’t pass through the block in my throat. She squeezes my hand and it sets the baby off. Remembering when my nephews were this young, I just hand her back to Bridget knowing she only wanted her mum.

Harry and I stay in the waiting room. We couldn’t go home, even though we had spent our allotted time we had inside the room, we stay there.

We watch Lou’s kids as Bridget’s family gathers in her room. We stay as they fall asleep, draped over us. I remember when Taylor’s kids were this small, they would fall asleep anywhere.

We talk in whispers, I don’t remember what about exactly. Mostly how excited we were. How there was so much to look forward to. How different our lives looked a decade ago.

“One day we’ll tell our grandkids,” I remember Harry saying. “We’ll tell them all about us, how we met, how our love burned so bright it shone in the sky. We lost each other but our love was always there to guide us back home.”

“We’ll see them grow up, all the memories we missed.”

“We’ll change diapers.”

“We’ll change diapers,” I giggle, half-delirious by the lack of sleep. It was probably 2am and I was tired.

When I gaze up at Harry I remember him holding our granddaughter. I replace her with Bridget. For a minute I allow myself to imagine how that would have been.

“I think you would have made an amazing mum if we did things differently,” Harry whispers into my hair.

“You too.” I whisper back.

“An amazing mum? You think?” The edge of his lips tug upwards.

“Harry,” I warn. We had kids sleeping on us we were trying not to wake.

“I love you.” He says in response. “To the stars and back.”

On our drive home I can’t stop looking at him. I always wondered how it would be like to grow old with someone; when I was younger and watch my own parents celebrate anniversaries. And then when I was older and my first marriage was so rocky.

But thinking about it now is like a simple mathematical equation. You take two lives, two individuals, and you bracket them in love. You add an exponent—the decision to continue choosing each other. And you get a lifelong commitment. No matter the situation, no matter the challenges or the changes, you choose to choose each other.

His side profile lights up by an oncoming car. For a second he’s the same boy I feel in love with, a few more gray hairs, a few more wrinkles, and a moustache. But he’d always be the boy I followed out to the roof, who held my hand in our high school hallway, the one who turned an I into a we when I got pregnant, I see the man I had coffee with after a run-in at the Whole Foods, I see the broken heart from a harsh life sitting on the steps of a church, I see a bookworm, I see a father, a husband, and now a grandfather. I see the one person who knows me like the back of his hand. The one I am home with always.

“What is it?” Harry asks as we pull into our b&b. “Have you been asleep this whole ride or have you been staring at me?”

“Staring at you?” I ask. “You think I was staring at you the whole ride?”

“Well you were really silent. And facing me

“I was thinking.”

“About me?”

“Why are you so desparate!? Do I not show you enough love regularly?”

“I could always use more,” Harry looks half asleep as we reach our door.

“The people are right: you give someone a hand and watch as they take the whole arm,” I tease.

“When you gave me your hand, I made you a wife.” Harry retorts.

“Ooh,” I poke him. “I have to say that’s a good comeback for being half-asleep.”

Harry grins back. “You keep me sharp.”

“And you keep me happy. Now open the door so I can stop freezing out here!”

We walk into the warmth of our b&b.

For so much of our lives, our past decisions haunted us. We let so much go. Now life was repaying us, returning it all back, with interest.

***

In a small b&b in the middle of a town called Coventry, two lovers crawl into bed. They’d just become grandparents and they carry an exhausted buzz about them as they try to fall asleep. They’re both thinking of the other, of their daughter, of the tiny bundle they held in their arms today.

Some 20 minutes away their daughter lays in a hospital bed, an exhausted buzz putting her to sleep. She dreams of her mother who gave her up, how she had found her parents in the end, and dreams about the kind of mother she’ll be.

A few doors down lay her newborn daughter, she doesn’t dream of much, not yet, but she’s in for a lifetime of love.

Most of life is what we made it. Y/N and Harry loved deeply enough to make it.

———————————————

TAGLIST: @quinnwritezz @unknownnbihh @dilfhrrys @umadirectioner @hermionelove @anonymous-91 @meganxfddf

[porcelana-r0ta]

The Curse of Sight

[Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3] 

Ao3 Link: [Part 2] (Ao3 link is available only to Ao3 users)

Summary: When Wes Weston meets Tim Drake-Wayne, the dots start connecting. And those dots form a Bat.

Wes wasn’t 100% positive about whether or not Tim was joking when he said to get him a coffee on his next coffee run, but he’s nothing if not a (reluctantly) efficient worker. Well, that, and Jade was always looking for any reason to complain about him, so it’s best to not give her a reason. 

So when he’s sent on his daily coffee run the next day, he orders one trenta Death Wish coffee. He even remembers to request blond espresso since that kind has more caffeine than dark. 

When he makes his way back to WE, he’s able to slip into the elevator after one of the scientists, who pityingly presses the floor button when Wes asks. He thanks her, and is luckily left alone when she gets off twenty floors before him. Blessedly, no one joins after her, and he’s able to get off at Floor 73 in peace. 

He’s immediately assaulted by the caffeine-starved workers just like yesterday, and he luckily doesn’t have to worry about figuring out where to drop off Tim’s coffee, because Rebecca Gray, one of the younger employees who actually treats Wes like he’s human, spills some tea to him, and even presents it in such a way that she’s just helping him with his delivery: “Kid, your mom’s in the Grayson Conference Room with the Waynes and some people from the Board. There was a break-in last night. They’re trying to come up with a press plan. You’ll have to take her and Jade’s order in there. Remember to knock.”

See, Wes didn’t need to know all that. He only needed the last two sentences. But Rebecca is a decent human being who gives other human beings basic human respect, even if they are lowly interns that double as unwilling nepo-babies. He appreciates that about Rebecca. 

“Thanks,” he tells her, and she doesn’t ask questions about why he has three coffees left instead of two. 

“No problem,” she chirps, then rubs her hand roughly through his hair. He has a free hand now, so he swats at her, but she’s already frolicking off to her cubicle. Probably to make memes and then come up with a pitch to his mom on why they should be posted on the Wayne Enterprises official Twitter. 

They were good memes. Wes liked them, anyway. But he’s not sure it’d be very PC of a corporation to post a supposedly “joke” Tweet about giving one million dollars to the first person to kill the Joker and provide proof. 

Wes walks over to the conference room and knocks on the solid mahogany. A few seconds pass, and then a man’s voice calls out, “Come in.” 

Wes opens the door to a group of men and women in suits that are more expensive than any amount of money he will ever have in his bank account at one time surrounding a table that overlooks a flat screen TV. He’s quick to spot his mom and Tim, and unfortunately, quick to spot Jade and Bruce fucking Wayne, who’s, you know, the fucking Batman. 

Wes sweeps his gaze away and smiles nervously, hoping he just looks like a dorky intern who is scared to piss off the Actual Big Boss™. “I have coffee,” he offers, raising the coffee holder a bit higher, as if they couldn’t see from where it was. 

“Thank you, Wes,” his mom says, and he takes that as his cue to enter in farther, distributing the coffee first to his mom, then Jade (who glares at him, ugh), and finally, Tim, who takes it with a look of surprise that forces his eyebrows up his forehead. 

“It’s got every shot of espresso they can legally sell,” he tells him, an anxious smile tugging at his lips a little too hard. He is so stressed right now. 

Tim takes a sip, and then says with the expertise of an addict, “This is blond espresso.”

“Blond has more caffeine, so….” 

Tim looks at him with wide eyes, “You are a coffee god.”

“Ahaha, I’m just the intern,” he says tightly, feeling Bruce Wayne’s gaze bore holes into him. He wonders if anyone else can feel it when he’s just Brucie, or if he’s only noticing because he knows. “Anyway, I’m just gonna….” He gestures to the door, and as he does so, his eyes catch on the screenshot displayed on the wide flatscreen TV. 

It’s clearly been pulled from security cameras, and police have definitely already had a look at it (and the Bats, obviously) if the Waymes are letting the PR team look at it. The camera is surprisingly clear—or maybe not, given the Waynes’ nightlife—and has been zoomed in, so Wes can make out the villain in all their suited up glory, Kevlar(?) and green mask and all, and even their laptop that’s hooked up to some scientist’s desktop computer (if Wes had to wager a guess, anyway). There’s also a shadow behind the villain, indistinct but invariably human. Probably Batman right before interrupting the villain. 

Batman’s definitely smart enough to avoid showing a picture of himself in a cape and cowl to his closest coworkers while in his Brucie persona. 

Huh. That’s odd: the laptop is covered in distinctive stickers. He can even read one of the stickers that quotes an old but widely known fanfiction: “Why couldn’t Satan have made me less beautiful?”

Well, that’s a stupid move. Why go through the trouble of having a whole entire super villain costume made if you’re just going to pull out your personalized laptop? What a dumbass. If Wes were a villain, he’d at least be smart enough to have two laptops: one for business and one for personal use. 

And God, not the My Immortal quote. Embarrassing, really. (And, honestly, a little intimidating. Talk about having no shame!)

Oh, well. It’s not his business. He’s not the super intelligent, super paranoid vigilante. The Bats can figure this one out, thank you very much. 

He walks out of the conference room and rushes to Rebecca’s cubicle, throwing his body onto the stool that he’d brought over one day while helping make memes and then never removed.

“Rebecca, guess what.”

Rebecca jumps, choking on her iced latte. “Christ, kid, what?”

“You have to guess!”

“Uh, I dunno, Jade said that she’s sorry for being a bitch?”

“Maybe when the Bats make friends with the Joker,” he says, and she snorts.

“Wow, already picking up on the Gotham lingo,” she compliments. 

“I had my first mugging a week ago. I think that counts for me being a Gothamite, right?”

“Maybe after your first big time villain attack, kid.” She shakes her head at him, then asks, “Okay, so what is it?”

“They had some security camera screenshot in the conference room,” he tells her excitedly. “The villain who broke in was on it. They had this laptop to hack some computer, and—God, this is hilarious—they had a My Immortal sticker on their laptop.”

Rebecca’s face flushes in delight and abhorrence all at once, “Holy outdated Internet references, Batman, you’re kidding.” 

“I’m absolutely not, Rebecca!” he insists. “I saw it, clear as day! Brucie Wayne doesn’t skimp on his security. It was right there in print: Why couldn’t Satan make me less beautiful?”

“Dear God.” She shakes her head, then asks, “Aren’t you a little young to know the sacred texts?” 

“You’re never too young for culture, Rebecca.” 

She nods sagely, “You have a point, kid. You have a point.” She clears her throat. “Hey, do you wanna help me with a project?” 

“What kind of project?”

“A pitch to your mom to convince her to get Wayne Enterprises an official TikTok account. It’s criminal that we don’t have one yet! Did you know that the New York City branch has one? We’re the headquarters! Why don’t we have one? It doesn’t make any sense!” 

It’s Wes’s turn to nod, “Yes, that is a grievous mistake. We need to make social media amends, and quickly. Before someone becomes a social media villain and attacks corporations that don’t have TikToks.” 

“You’re being sarcastic—”

“I’m really not—”

“But you shouldn’t joke about that in Gotham because it’ll happen if you speak it.”

Wes wants to laugh that notion off as paranoia, but then he remembers Desiree. 

“Okay, you have a point.” He knocks his hand on her head, “Knock on wood.” 

“That’s it, brat. You’re fired from my project.” She sticks her tongue out at him. 

“Wait, no. I take it back. I take it back!” 

Rebecca spins her swivel chair around, leaning back and humming, “Hmmm, maybe…. But it’ll cost you.” 

“I wanna right this social media injustice, Rebecca. Please!” 

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. But!” She raises a finger when he looks too excited, “You have to agree to be in the first TikTok.” 

Well, now he’s wary. 

He wrinkles his nose, “I don’t know about that.”

“Then no social media for you.” Her voice is a taunting singsong, and something in Wes breaks. 

“Ugh, fine. I’ll do it.”

An evil, smug grin cracks through Rebecca’s face, and Wes’s stomach curdles. What did he just agree to?

“Excellent,” she says. “Then let’s get started.”

An hour into their project, the meeting in the conference room comes to an end. Wes knows this because it’s when Jade decides to butt her head in his business.

“Weston,” she barks as soon as she sees him crouching next to Rebecca while they debate the merits of “Connecting to the Youth” as a topic for just one slide or multiple. “Stop distracting Rebecca from her work. I need you to deliver a file to IT.”

“Wes isn’t distracting me,” Rebecca politely corrects Jade, even though she shouldn’t because Jade doesn’t like her much, either. “I needed a second opinion on—”

“Another meme?” Jade asks spitefully. “That’s a waste of company time, Reb—”

But Jade is interrupted by the grand appearance of Timothy Drake, who waltzes up and asks, “Something wrong, Mrs. Oswald?” 

“Nothing, really.” Jade is quick to become all smiles. “Weston here is just interrupting Rebecca’s fine work.” 

“I heard something about a meme?” He raises an eyebrow, and Wes has to smother giggles. Red Robin is standing here, asking after a meme. 

“Oh, yes,” Rebecca jumps at the chance to discuss her memes, which are only accepted to be posted on the company Twitter about 25% of the time. She deftly switches from the slideshow tab to Canva, where she has a meme ready to go. 

Wes is impressed with her resolve. 

“As you can see, sir,” she gestures to the computer, where a meme in the Drake format is shown, but with Batman in his place. Instead of the bottom Batman being accepting of the proposal to the right, both images of Batman are grimacing. “I am using a classic format, but stylized to fit our very own vigilantes. As he is the Batman, he doesn’t really smile, so it’s just the same picture of Batman frowning like an angst lord. The top text reads, ‘When the Batburger is out of jokerized fries,’ and the bottom text reads, ‘But their ice cream machine is running.’”

Batburger is Gotham’s “not like other girls” version of McDonald’s, Wes has discovered. 

Tim cracks a laugh at the meme in front of him, and the light dies from Jade’s eyes. Wes feels just a little warmer for it, and not guilty at all. 

“That’s pretty good,” he compliments. “You think you could photoshop an ice cream cone on the Batman on the bottom?”

Rebecca lets out a gasp of delight, “Genius! That’s why you’re the CEO, sir!”

Tim laughs, his eyes crinkling, and he says, “Photoshop it in, then send it to Ms. Rolland. I want to see it on WE’s Twitter tonight.” 

Rebecca gives a two-fingered salute, then swivels back around to face her computer. 

“Wes, can I speak with you for a second? I won’t take long.” Tim may make it sound like a request, but he’s the CEO, so it’s more of an order, and Wes stands on uneasy legs as Jade storms off without a word to her boss. 

“Yeah, sure,” he agrees, and follows Tim. 

Was I obvious? Do they know that I know? Surely not, right? I mean, I’ve been in Gotham for barely three weeks. Who figures out that kind of thing in that kind of time? Who figures out that someone has figured it out in that kind of time?

Wes is about to work himself into a panic attack when Tim stops at the conference room door and holds it open for him. He gulps. Is Bruce Wayne waiting behind the door to question him? Fuuuuuuck me.

He crosses the threshold and has to hold in a sigh of relief, as well as keep from just straight up collapsing to the ground. No Brucie Wayne. No Batman confrontation. 

“W-what did you need to talk about?” Wes asks as Tim steps in after him, the door clicking shut.

Tim pauses to collect his thoughts, then says, “I wanted to ask you about Jade Oswald. She seems… aggressive with her coworkers.”

Peace, I knew thee too quickly. 

“She’s just intense,” Wes says, even though he’d kind of like to see Jade get some HR hell rained on her. “And stressed. And I kinda got this job through my mom, so she sees me as this kid who doesn’t deserve to be here when she probably had to, like, work for everything, and I’m just, like, here because my mom wants to keep an eye on me so I don’t get mugged. Again.” 

Oh, sure. Great idea! Bring up the mugging! Definitely not suspicious at all! Maybe I would be stupid enough to bring a personalized laptop with me on an intelligence heist.

Tim’s face is concerned. Wes would applaud his acting skills if he wasn’t more stressed than a 15th Century serf in Russia. “Mugged? Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah, totally. I was rescued by Red Robin. That part was kinda cool, honestly.” Good, good, give him subtle compliments so if he does ever find out, he can remember that you think he’s cool and will hopefully give you pity. 

Tim still doesn’t look reassured, and his instinct is to tell him about wacky Amity Park hijinks, like when he joined Fenton’s teen militia to take down Youngblood and save all the adults, but he clamps down on that hard. Don’t talk about Amity to a fucking Bat, you dumbass.

“You’re sure?” His voice is soft and caring, and Wes suddenly feels suffocated. 

“U-uh, yeah. I’m sure. I appreciate you asking, though!” 

“Of course,” Tim says. “I’ve had my fair share of Gotham scares.”

“I bet,” Wes laughs. This is safer territory. “You grew up here, right? You probably know all the protocol for living here.”

“Ohhh, yeah,” Tim joins him in laughter, his tone fond for the cesspool he knows so well. It’s something only Gothamites have perfected because most people with common sense react with revulsion to this filth they call a city. “Word of advice? Get a gas mask.”

“Mom has that covered, believe me.” Wes scoffs. “Mom went and had mine fitted. I get the concern, but wow.”

“Bruce did the same to me when I first moved in,” Tim says, and Wes doesn’t ask why the Drakes didn’t already have one fitted for him since they were also rich. There’s a reason why Brucie Wayne adopts every black haired child he sees, after all. “That’s just what parents do, I guess.”

The good ones, Wes thinks grimly to himself. 

“Haha, yeah. That’s true.” He thinks of Rebecca, then thinks, Well, in for a penny…. “Hey, me and Rebecca were wondering—why doesn’t Wayne Enterprises have a TikTok?”

Tim blinks, caught off guard, then answers, “Well, we don’t really use social media for traditional advertisement, I suppose. Usually, we do social media sponsorships with influencers…. Huh. I guess I never really thought of it? I know the New York branch has an unofficial account that we haven’t shut down since it’s been rather harmless.”

That makes sense. The teenager who spends his nights parkouring across the rooftops of Gotham is too sleep deprived to remember the marketing potential of TikTok. 

“Right,” Wes says. “Well, Rebecca is working on a pitch to my mom about it. She’s, like, super into it. She has at least a dozen scripts written for the first TikToks she wants to post, and has a bunch of emails drafted to get some departments in on it. She says it’s important to humanize a company before posting ads so we have an audience who is sympathetic to the company. Which, like. Wow. Kinda messed up. But good business tactics.” 

“Huh.” Tim blinks again, and Wes is starkly aware of how wired but tired he must be. “Okay. Have Rebecca go ahead and make the account, but keep it private, and film a first TikTok. Send it to me before posting it. I’ll have filming equipment sent down. Work on it with her, yeah?” 

“O-okay! I can do that,” Wes agrees. “Are we sending this through email, or…?”

“Right.” Tim nods, then grabs a sheet of paper from a notepad left behind on the conference table. He pulls a pen out from his suit jacket and scribbles something down, tears the page out, and then hands it to Wes. 

It’s his work email. And also his personal phone. And Wes knows it’s Tim’s personal phone number because the number has “personal #” written next to it. 

Cool cool cool cool cool. No need to freak out. It isn’t like Tucker would kill him to have this opportunity or anything. It isn’t like he has the personal number of the literal Red Robin superhero or anything. 

“Oh, thanks!” is all Wes can squeak out, and Tim sends him a charming smile. 

“Today was just luck. Text me next time you’re getting coffee so you know where to meet me.” 

“Will do!” Wes agrees, and Tim nods, opening the door for Wes to exit, then follows him through. 

They say a quick goodbye, and Wes beelines for Rebecca. 

“You were in there for a while,” she comments, not looking up from her screen when he collapses onto his stool. She’s currently manipulating a photo of a Batbucks ice cream cone. “Did you two make out? I won’t rat you out. I may be in my twenties but I’m still cool like a teen.”

“No!” Wes blushes redder than his hair. “And that was, like, the lamest sentence ever. You’re lame. I regret scoring a Wayne Enterprises TikTok account for you now.”

This tidbit of knowledge rips Rebecca from her computer screen. “You’re kidding!”

He grins widely, “Nope! Our CEO says that you can go ahead and make an account, but keep it private. He says that he’ll send filming equipment down, and that he wants to personally approve of the video before posting.” 

Rebecca lets out a squeal of excitement, “You’re the best intern ever! Does your mom have to send you back to Illinois in August? Are you sure we can’t keep you?”

“Sorry, but I’m in high demand.” 

“Clearly. Ugh, you’re a little genius.” She looks at the meme on her screen. “Wow, this is boring now that I know we’ll be getting a TikTok.” 

“Tim wants to see it by the end of the day,” he reminds her. 

“Eugh. I knooowww, but still. Boring.” She sighs. “Do you think Batman is more of a vanilla or a chocolate kind of guy?” 

Before figuring out that Batman was technically one of his Actual Big Bosses™, Wes might have cracked a joke about someone who dresses up in a BDSM fursuit to fight crime having no chance of being vanilla. With his current knowledge, Wes winces, and says, “Oh, vanilla all the way. He doesn’t have the creativity for anything else. I mean, the Bat Signal? The Batmobile? C’mon.” 

Rebecca nods like this is totally rational reasoning, “You’re right, you’re right. Besides, I can’t spend the time on changing the ice cream now. Now, we have a TikTok to plan.” 

And suddenly, Wes remembers his promise to be in the very first TikTok that Wayne Enterprises posts. 

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.”

--------

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[rougepancake]

The Summoning (chapter three)

Ft. Leon x F! Gym Leader! Reader

series m.list

SUMMARY: Before you read this and think “what the fuck pancake this makes no sense.” YES IT DOES!! YOU’RE DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE JUST GIVE IT SOME TIME TO HIT PLEASEEEE

Exhibition matches were both your favorite and least favorite thing about running the gym in Ballonlea. Tons of challengers faced you, but not many advanced further. Both you and Raihan were put there to filter out the challengers. In truth, only the most committed trainers made it to face the champion.

Your gym was designed to be challenging, from the trial to the actual battle, trainers were kept on their toes. Everything was set up to make those who entered question themselves. It was not for the faint of heart, which was why you disliked your matches so. There had been many times where you had defeated a child, only for them to wallow in their misery. The older ones could handle defeat, thankfully, which made things a little easier for you.

When you got up in the morning, you found that Leon had already left. He was considerate enough to make the bed and tidy up the room some, so that was a plus. You were thankful, really. With Leon out of your house, you had nothing to worry about. Now you’d be able to fully dedicate yourself to the gym today. Allister would be there to watch, as well as the rest of the town.

Due to where you were stationed, your matches were rarely sold out. Many people disliked the idea of having to go through the Glimwood Tangle just to get to Ballonlea, so they opted to stream instead. Your matches were the most streamed out of the gym leaders. Raihan was a very close second, but because he was in Hammerlocke, his live audience was much bigger than his virtual. Same for Leon.

“I’ve reserved you and Mimikyu a seat for the matches today,” you spoke as you brushed through your hair. It wasn’t styling the way you wanted, and it was starting to piss you off. “If there are any complications, don’t be afraid to go and speak to one of the staff members.” You knew no one would give him problems. In fact, the people of Ballonlea loved him. You just knew how anxious he could get.

Once you finished up with your hair, you went on to do your makeup. You finished that up in no time and moved to finish layering your outfit properly. You looked yourself over in the mirror before heading out and grabbing something to eat. Allister had already headed out, no doubt playing with Mimikyu by the backyard.

You felt your Rotom phone ring, causing you to startle. “Hello?” You double checked to see who was calling you.

“Hullo. It’s Piers. I saw that you donated a bunch to Spikemuth’s charity fund,” he paused, his tone awkward. “I just wanted t’ say thanks. If you ever need anything, Spikemuth is in your corner.”

Before you could even respond, he had hung up. It was true that you had made quite the hefty contribution to the fund, mainly because you felt for them. You were rather fond of the city, so naturally you felt inclined to donate. You did that with Turffield and Postwick too. Small towns like them deserved the proper funding, and you were more than willing to help.

Your phone began to ring again, and you thought it was Piers calling you back. Gordie’s contact photo stared at you as you held your phone in your hands. Gordie didn’t call unless it was something important.

“Hey, I’m sorry to call you before your matches, but I thought you should hear this. Sonia and a few of the meteorologists in Wyndon recorded data on yesterday’s storm. They were able to deduce that the Pokémon are acting oddly because of the unique weather pattern. According to them, storms that intense haven’t touched the region in about three thousand years,” he gave you a second to process everything. “Something bad is coming, and I think that kiddo was seeing the ultimate future of the region.”

“I see… I’ll send it what I recorded yesterday. Other than that, I don’t think I can aid them any further,” you paused, looking at the entrance to the gym. “Thanks Gordie, I owe you one.” You heard him chuckle before hanging up. The news he gave you was… something, no doubt. You pushed yourself past your fans, aiming for the locker room. Your Pokémon were more than ready to battle, but you weren’t. Three thousand years? How did they even come to those conclusions? And what was happening three thousand years ago that so greatly affected the region.

A sigh passed through your lips as you heard your Gengar break free from its Pokéball. It was antsy, so you decided to take it onto the field with you. According to your schedule, you had a lot of challengers lined up for today. The chances of them beating you were slim, but you’d encourage them nonetheless. That was your job after all. Challengers of all ages were welcomed by your gym, and you supported them attempting your challenge multiple times. Most didn’t, but the determined ones would, and those ones would usually make it past you and move on to Raihan.

You patiently sat inside the locker room, watching the camera footage of the gym to see your first challenger enter the trial. Poor thing couldn’t have been no older than twelve, and looked scared out of her mind by the thought of the ghost type gym. She was going to be in for a scare, unfortunately, since your trial was an ever changing maze. It was a labyrinth, designed to be complicated and confusing. The challengers always had the option to call for help if they got lost, but you could see the determination in this one’s eyes. She was scared, but she was smart. Any puzzle that was thrown at her, she knocked out of the park. The trainers you assigned for today’s matches stood no chance against her.

She knew her stuff, seeing as her team was filled with dark type Pokémon.

Before you knew it, she had made it to the field. She was confident, you could see it in her eyes. You met her gracefully on the field, introducing yourself with a small smile. The two of you went to your respective sides of the field and called out your first Pokémon. Hers was a petite Umbreon, while yours was a massive Trevenant. You watched her confidence waver as you made your first move.

Allister watched you battle from the seat that you had reserved for him. He had always enjoyed watching you battle. It seemed like every time he saw you fight, he learned something new. He’d then apply it to his own battle style and go from there. This time, however, he just wanted to watch you. He admired you more than anything, and refused to listen to anyone but you. You were his whole world.

The commentator announced your victory to the stadium and the crowd roared. The little girl hung her head in defeat, holding back tears on the field. It broke your heart. Carefully, you walked towards her, placing your hand on her shoulder and looking into her eyes.

“Come back and challenge me tomorrow. This is only a temporary setback, I promise,” you whispered sincerely, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She nodded and left, leaving you to stand on the field alone. You gave your spectators a wave before heading back to the locker room.

Gengar broke free of its confines once again, floating around the room mischievously. The sight made you smile a little. What a troublesome thing it was.

The door to the locker room was thrown open, causing you to startle. You rose to your feet to meet the staff member that was standing in the doorway. He was incredibly out of breath, and could hardly get a word out. You caught on to his message and quickly canceled your next match, running out of the gym at full speed with your Gengar following after you. According to him, there was trouble on the main path of the Glimwood Tangle. You could feel a disturbance in the air as soon as you left the gym.

The sky was a weird purple color, and it only got darker the further you went into the forest. It didn’t take you long to figure out what was going on, as you were now faced with the sight of a Dynamaxed Aromatisse. No one appeared to be in area, which meant that you were going to be doing this alone. The fairy type Pokémon roared loudly, sending powerful vibrations through the air. Your Gengar looked at you in anticipation, and you recalled it. You Dynamaxed your Gengar, quickly taking out the Aromatisse. You captured it and fell to the ground, holding the ball in your hands.

“What the fuck…” you whispered. Your body was shaking. The sight of the Pokéball in your hands only meant one thing, and you feared that thought. You shook your head and rose to your feet, storing the ball away in your pocket. As if reading your mind, Gengar handed you your Rotom phone with a grin. With shaky hands, you called the first person you could think of— Leon. Why Leon? Fuck why not. He was the only one you could think of that could help you. Not even that, you just needed to tell someone.

“Y/n? Is everything alright?” His voice came through the receiver.

“Allister’s premonition… it’s coming true sooner than I thought…” Silence followed your statement. You had sent your head staff member a message to let Allister fill in for the rest of your matches. He didn’t think he was, but you knew that he was more than ready to take over. “Leon?” You questioned, double checking to make sure that the call had gone through. Thunder rolled in the distance. Another storm was on its way.

“I need you to…” he stopped himself, “I need you to meet me at Wyndon Station. I’ll book you a room at the Rose of the Rondelands. Please get here as soon as you can.” He didn’t elaborate further, but you could hear the urgency in his voice. Panic spread through you as you stared at the blank screen of your phone. How long were you going to be away? Was Allister going to be okay on his own? You quickly sent a text to one of the leaders within the community, asking them to keep an eye on the child, before running out of the Glimwood Tangle and summoning your Runerigus.

This Pokémon knew teleport, by some unique chance. You had gotten it studied when you found that in its move set, but no one had been able to explain it to you. You weren’t too fond of using the move. It was known to be dangerous for humans to teleport with a Pokémon, but you were making an allowance today.

Runerigus used the move, and you appeared outside of the Wyndon Station. People were everywhere, and when they noticed you, they crowed you, begging for autographs and league cards. It overwhelmed you greatly, so much so that you were beginning to feel dizzy. Thankfully, Leon appeared, forcing the crowd to dissipate. He extended his hand to you and led you to the hotel. No words were exchanged between the two of you as you walked. This only caused the tension between you to grow.

Once he had you inside the suite he had booked for you, he collapsed onto the couch, exhaustion in his golden eyes. He gestured for you to join him, but you were frozen in place.

“I fought a wild Dynamaxed Aromatisse, Leon,” you took the ball it was in out of your pocket, holding it up for him to see. “I fought it in the Glimwood Tangle. On the main path.” The ball was set aggressively onto the nearest surface. You stormed towards him, stopping just before you got to the couch. “I know I said I wasn’t going to make you speak up, but I think now would be a damn good time to.” Rain had begun to fall outside. The wind howled and whipped against the window as you spoke. “Damn it all! How many have you seen? How many have you caught and turned in to the Chairman? Hm?”

Leon let out an exasperated sigh, hanging his head at your words. “About ten now…” he frowned.

“Are you serious?” You could feel yourself getting weak in the knees. “What does the Chairman have to say about all of this?”

“He… he keeps telling me that it’s under control…” he sighed again, finally meeting your gaze. “It’s not safe for you to get involved.”

“It’s too late now. If it’s happening in my town, then I’m involved simply by association. And don’t think that I won’t help Stow-on-Side.” You got closer to him with each word you spoke. “You’re not giving me the full story here, and it’s pissing me off.”

“I could you but it wouldn’t make sense…” Leon shook his head and held it. “You wouldn’t be safe it you knew.” The tone of his voice was very telling, as was his body language. If it weren’t for your current state, you would have felt bad for him. “The Chairman… he’d only involve you, and I don’t want that…”

You watched him closely, your confusion turning into anger. “Fine. I’ll do my own research then. But you’re not going anywhere. You may be Rose’s loyal lapdog, but you’re now my acquaintance. You’re guilty by association, and that makes you just as stuck with me as I am you.” You scoffed, finally sitting down beside him on the couch. He flinched slightly before looking at you. “How long am I staying here?”

“I don’t know…” he trailed off, “I’m not trying to keep you from going anywhere, really… it’s just… I’d feel so much better if I knew you were safe. Out of all of my friends, you’re the one I’m worried about the most. You can still keep up with your gym, of course, but you’d be staying here in Wyndon.” His words made you frown. “Ballonlea will be protected, I promise. I just need you to work with me behind the scenes… if we can tackle this together then maybe…” His golden eyes searched your own, pleading with you to just listen to him. “I…”

“Allister will be protected?” He nodded. “Alright,” you crossed your arms and leaned back, “I’m all yours. But as soon as I catch word of bad things happening in Ballonlea, I’m ditching this project and protecting my village.”

“Thank you, y/n,” he offered you a small smile, but you didn’t return it. You felt nauseated. It was all so sudden, and you were having a hard time wrapping your head around what was going on. He couldn’t tell you, but he wanted to look out for you. It bothered you greatly.

“So what now? Are we working together?” You tilted your head as you spoke, searching his face for answers. He continued to smile, not answering you. “I just don’t get it. With everything Gordie told me earlier, and with the sight of the Dynamaxed Pokémon in the wild, what are we supposed to do?” You could feel your eyes watering at the thought. “How in the bloody hell are we supposed to change the weather?”

A gentle hand rested upon your knee and you frowned. “Let me tell you a story,” he began slowly, his smile unwavering. His voice was as soft and as sweet as his gaze, allowing you to ease up as you sat next to him. His thumb circled around your kneecap, and his eyes searched yours for a brief moment before he spoke. “Its going to be a little complicated, but I’ll do my best to retell it…”

“Three thousand years ago, a mysterious Pokémon descended unto the region. It fed off of Galar’s energy to survive, which caused a red light to shine up to the heavens like a beacon. This led to what we now call the Darkest Day. This mysterious phenomenon took the form of a black storm and caused the wild Pokémon of the region to Dynamax. They went mad in the process, and nearly destroyed the region. Things only ended when the Pokémon was defeated by the Galarian kings of legend.

”This Pokémon is known as Eternatus. The Chairman… the Chairman is striving to cause a second Darkest Day to avoid a shortage of Dynamax energy. That’s all I can tell you, because that’s all I know. He’s well aware of the crisis happening right now, and he truly believes that doing this will solve our problems— but—“ he cut himself off, frowning. “I fear that if he awakens Eternatus, things will only get worse.”

“Eternatus…” you mumbled to yourself, looking down at the floor in thought. “How come I’m only hearing about this now?”

“Well the tale of the two kings is told throughout the region, it’s just the rest that’s been locked away, like Eternatus.” He took his hand off of your knee and turned to look out the window. “You know, I gave Hop and a close friend of his endorsements to compete in the gym challenge early this morning…” the statement came out of nowhere, tearing you from your confused stupor. “If things go south in the region, at least I know he got to follow his one true dream,” he smiled sadly, his eyes fixated on the rain.

“Oh Leon…” you frowned and sighed.

“He’s already set out, and should be getting to Turffield soon,” he turned to look at you, determination shining in his eyes. It reminded you of yourself when you were younger. “Let’s save the region, for his and Allister’s sake!”

Ah, so he hasn’t changed since he himself had been competing in the gym challenge. His determination was admirable, however, you felt a twinge of sadness at the thought. So determined, yet so hopeless. How has he made it this far?

“You know, I have some acquaintances that would be more than happy to aid us,” you suggested, thinking of Piers and the town of Spikemuth. “Does Raihan have any idea about any of this?”

“He doesn’t, despite Eternatus being kept underneath his gym in Hammerlocke. I wanted to tell him, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy by the Chairman. The only reason I told you anything is because you were just so close to figuring it all out,” he sighed and ran a heavy hand through his thick purple hair. It was then that you noticed that he didn’t have his signature hat. Maybe he had left it at your house.

“This whole situation is just so complicated to me…” you sighed softly, shaking your head. Your Rotom phone began to ring suddenly, startling both you and Leon. You expected to see Allister’s name appear, but the sight caused your heart to sink in fear.

Chairman Rose had taken it upon himself to call you.

“Hello?” You answered the call, standing up and walking off to the side of the room. The phone was pressed to your ear, the sound of his breath echoing into your head. It made you cringe, but you didn’t dare hang up.

“Y/n!” He sounded glad that you decided to pick up. “I’m so happy you answered! Are you in the Wyndon area? I was hoping the two of us could talk about what happened at the meeting yesterday! You’re not busy, are you?” The joy in his tone was fake, grating on your ears like nails on a chalkboard.

“Of course. I’m in the middle of having lunch with a colleague, but I’ll be over in no time,” you hung up and gave Leon a look of frustrated confusion. “He said he wanted to talk about what happened yesterday,” as you spoke, you began collecting some of your things. The Aromatisse that you caught earlier was sitting where you had left it, and you snatched it up without another word. You shoved it into your bag and looked back at the champion. “You can stay here if you’d like. I’m sure you’ll want to hear about how it went.”

“Yeah…” he stood up and walked over to you, awkwardly looking into your eyes. “Just be safe, please.”

“No problem.”

꧁ ༺ ─── ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ─── ༻ ꧂

Rose Tower was a sight that you weren’t too fond of. You had always found the building to be slightly atrocious, especially when it towered over the rest of Wyndon. It had exactly one thousand floors, each dedicated to some form of nonsensical research, no doubt. You thought of it as a display of wealth and power. Clearly he was loaded, so why wouldn’t it be?

His head assistant, who you now know to be Oleana, met you at the entrance, staring at you solemnly. The rain had yet to cease, and it seemed to create a barrier between the two of you. You subconsciously clutched the handle of your umbrella as you neared her. Without saying a word, she opened up the door and led you inside. There was a spot for your umbrella, so you set it to the side before following after her.

You had been inside the tower many times, but you had never been past the first floor. Today, Oleana had taken you to the large elevator, trapping you inside with her. She looked to be in her thirties, and looked very full of herself. Every now and then you’d catch her glancing at you. She was plotting something.

“I don’t understand why the Chairman would summon you of all people,” the blonde finally spoke up, looking at you with unmasked disgust. She seemed jealous, almost, and you found that to be rather amusing. You said nothing as the elevator continued its trip up to the top of the tower. The higher up you went, the more you began to feel dizzy.

A few more minutes of tense silence passed before the elevator came to a stop and Oleana led the way for you once more. The top of the tower was wide and open, with nothing but two chairs and a small table set up by the edge. The woman leading you huffed and turned around, leaving you in the large room with the Chairman, who was looking down at the city of Wyndon.

He turned around, gesturing with a smile for you to join him. The closer you got, the more you realized that he wasn’t all too intimidating. You had known the Chairman for quite some time now, so you blamed your fear on your adrenaline and moved on. He seemed to be gentle and tired, but you could tell something was off.

“When I became the chairman of the Galar region, I vowed that every decision I made would be with the greater good in mind.” You now stood beside him, gazing down at the city of Wyndon in slight awe. “I’ve been the chairman for many years now, as I’m sure you know, and I’ve had to make many tough decisions that would affect the future of the region. Dealing with these storms has been one of my toughest decisions yet,” he turned to face you, still smiling. He led you over to the table and pulled out your seat for you. Once he was seated in front of you, he continued to speak. “Your plan for handling this situation was a very good one indeed, however, I cannot simply make such a rash decision based on the dream of a child.”

“Chairman, Allister’s premonitions are an enigma. I’ve never met anyone else who has been able to see the things that he does,” you explained, maintaining eye contact with him. “I refuse to dismiss his premonitions just because the concept is a little strange.” He watched you intently, still smiling. “That boy saw the destruction of the region at the hands of Dynamaxed Pokémon, and I fear that it’s playing out sooner rather than later.”

“You think so?” Rose questioned, his hands folded neatly on the table. The rain fell against the window roof harshly, and the sky was still dark, despite it being midday.

“I know so.” It was then that you pulled out the Aromatisse you caught this morning. “This Pokémon was on a rampage today in the Glimwood Tangle just outside of Ballonlea. I stopped my exhibition matches to handle it. It Dynamaxed on its own in the wild. My people could have been hurt. Travelers trying to see my matches could have been killed.” You set the ball on the table and stared at him, searching for some form of physical reaction. “If my plan were to be executed, then maybe we could get this under control. Until then, the routes between cities are far too dangerous for the public to travel through.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I believe that Dynamaxing is the future of Galar. To see wild Pokémon doing it is a miracle, is it not?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I believe…” Rose turned his head to look outside, “I believe that means that Galar’s energy is so abundant that even the Pokémon have taken advantage of it. It’s wonderful. The region is thriving.” His soft smile had turned into a grin. You felt like your argument wasn’t getting through to him.

“Rose! This is dangerous! Innocent lives are at stake here! What will you do when the entire region is wiped out by your so called ’miracle’?” You slammed your hands onto the table, practically pleading with him to listen to you. Slowly, he turned to meet your gaze once more. His expression was off putting in the worst way, making you wish that you had declined his offer.

“Galar will be fine, y/n,” he said gently. His hands were folded neatly in his lap, and he sounded confident in his words. Unfortunately, you couldn’t seem to make any sense of it. “I refuse to let anything bad happen to our home. Though I must say— everything that I’m doing now is for our future generations. Trust in me, as you have many times before.”

A defeated sigh left your lips, and you hung your head. There was no point in arguing with him. “I have to go,” you mumbled, raising from your seat slowly. You refused to meet his green gaze. In your eyes, he was a villain. He meant well, really, but he was being rash.

“Thank you for joining me. I hope you have a safe trip back to Ballonlea,” Rose waved kindly before turning to look out of the large window. The rain was persistent still, relentless in its assault on the region. He sighed and thought about his interaction with you. It pained him to see you so set in your ways when he was doing wonders for the future of Galar. You reminded him of himself when he was a young trainer. He was calm and collected, but also brash and impatient. That side of him was the main reason that he and his brother didn’t get along. Rose frowned at the thought, looking down at his hands.

He missed his brother.

It took you three knocks before Leon opened the door. He looked exhausted, his hair pulled into a— very messy— ponytail. Books were littered around the common area of the suite he booked, with many opened to specific pages. His notes were also placed around the room here and there, making you rather curious as to what he had been up to.

“I was only gone for an hour and a half,” you said as you walked into the room, your eyes briefly scanning across the books you passed. “How were you able to get all of this done in such a short period of time?” You spun around to face him, awe painting your expression.

“Every book I’ve read has no mention of Eternatus, but rather the two kings, and their two Pokémon companions,” he stumbled forward, picking up one of the books and handing it to you. “I studied the history various monuments dedicated to the kings, and found nothing on them until I recalled the museum in Hammerlocke. It hints at the two Pokémon that aided the kings in their battle.” Leon stretched with a groan before handing you a sheet of paper. “The Sword and the Shield Pokémon. They haven’t been spotted since that day all those years ago,” he led you to the coffee table, showing you even more of his notes. “But— Hop and his friend Gloria ran into a Pokémon that matches the description of them in the Slumbering Weald.”

As you reviewed his notes, you couldn’t help but admire his intelligence. His thoughts, albeit messy, were pointed in the right direction. With this kind of thinking, the two of you were bound to come up with a solution in no time. Carefully, you set the papers down, giving him a reassuring nod.

“Why do you think that is? Could it be that they deem your brother and his friend to be special? Or maybe…” you trailed off, looking past him and out the window. “Maybe they can sense what’s coming. They could be trying to reach out to them for help.”

“Hop is in fact very special…” he mumbled, holding his head in his hand as he thought. “If that were the case, don’t you think that they would have reached out sooner?” He paused to collect his thoughts, changing the topic slightly. “Why is it that Eternatus has not once been mentioned… all I could find was the history of the Darkest Day.”

You gasped sharply, sitting upright and looking into Leon’s eyes. “There’s an altar hidden away in the depths of the Glimwood Tangle. Opal showed it to me when she began mentoring me years ago,” you paused, “I haven’t visited it in quite some time, but from what I remember, it’s dedicated to something beyond the Ancient Kings.” Your brows furrowed as you thought, and a frustrated sigh escaped you when you came up with nothing.

“I say we investigate that tomorrow,” Leon pondered before standing up. He rose his hands high over his head and sighed. The fitted shirt he was wearing rose slightly, and you found yourself taking a glance at the little skin it revealed. The champion turned to give you a sheepish smile, nervously scratching his neck. “You wouldn’t mind if I roomed with you tonight, would you?”

“Of course not. As long as you don’t snore, then I don’t mind,” you joined him in standing up, stretching with a soft yawn. The two of you bookmarked the pages of the several books he had found and put them away. Once everything was taken care of, you directed your attention to the weather. It seemed to have calmed some, yet the sky remained dark. Checking your phone, you saw that it was only about five in the afternoon, which meant that you had many hours ahead of you before nightfall came along.

“I was planning on showering and heading to bed a little early. I feel incredibly exhausted,” you admitted with a sigh. “You’re welcome to take one yourself. As for where you’ll sleep… I do believe that there’s a door that connects the bathroom to another bedroom. You can stay there if you’d like.”

“Don’t mind if I do. My body is practically screaming with how sore it is,” he grinned and patted your shoulder before heading off to the room. When you heard him close the door, you walked past into your own bedroom and began getting undressed. Your shower was warm and comforting, easing the slight tension that was beginning to build in your shoulders. Once you changed into the sleepware the hotel provided, you turned off your lamp, closed your curtains, and plopped down onto the bed.

It didn’t take sleep long to find you, thankfully, and you were allowed to properly rest for the first time in days. However, your gratitude was short lived. Your dreams were filled with sights of the Darkest Day and the Sword and Shield Pokémon. You saw the two kings defending themselves against what you assumed was Eternatus, and you saw them lose. Lose? They won in the original story, so why couldn’t they achieve victory once more? Images of Eternatus continued to flash across your mind, only causing you to toss and turn in your sleep. The sight of it was nightmare fuel on its own, but the fact that you were seeing it in your dreams was much more fear inducing. You had never seen it before, so why were you picturing it so clearly now?

Unless… unless it was reaching out to you.

You gasped and quickly sat upright in your bed, drenched in a cold sweat. Why would such a dangerous thing contact you of all beings? Your hands shook as you ran them through your hair. For a moment, you considered waking Leon to discuss your dream, but you chose to keep it to yourself until you were sure that it was real.

Sudden noise from the other room caught you off guard, causing you to jump slightly. Leon. Of course he snored like an Ursaring.

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

gif credit

Chapter I: Everybody Get Together

masterlist | playlist

summary: You meet with your record label, where they drop the news of a cross country tour in your lap. Your big break, finally, but with a huge catch.

tags: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, gn!reader, estranged lovers, angst

a/n: i got so excited i wrote this in a little over two hours. don’t get used to the consistent updates just yet, but i’m so excited about this story! Please reblog to support the author!

Spring 1992 (present day)

Seattle

Your POV

The Sub Pop office is a small one, the walls covered floor to ceiling in magazine clippings, polaroids, and scribbled signatures of the label’s crowning achievements. When Death Dance Approximately was signed, you’d never freaked out so hard in your life. To be on the same label as Nirvana was something you never would have imagined, but now you’re here, with four of your closest friends, waiting for the executives to tell you the news.

“I told you, all I know is that they have a tour scheduled for us.” Steve looks at his planner as he leads you, Robin, Sylvie, and Lilith into the cozy board room. The four of you had harassed him all morning, begging to know what the meeting was for. “I have no idea who we’re going with, or when, and it’s starting to piss me off.” You’d hired Steve as your manager the second you were able to pay him. Selfishly, you’d missed having him around, and he was good at the job. He took care of you all, and loved you just as much.

“But why wouldn’t they tell you who we’re touring with? That doesn’t make sense. It makes me nervous.” You bite at one painted fingernail, an anxious habit you’ve been trying to break. You enter the meeting room early, the speakers playing Territorial Pissings at an insanely high volume. You huff as you plop yourself into an office chair, bouncing your leg as your band mates surround you.

“Welcome, Death Dance Approximately!” The double glass doors open, making way for label head Bruce Pavitt, a bald man in a flannel shirt and ripped jeans. He’s always been very hands on with his bands, making sure they have whatever they need before any performance. Part of you suspects it’s to keep his own reputation, but you appreciate it regardless. “I’m sure Steve’s told you why you’re all here today. We have set up your first ever cross country tour! You’ll be supporting Corroded Coffin on their Freak Show album tour. You’re not necessarily openers, but because they’re so big, you’ll be the second band on the bill …” Bruce’s words are lost on you after that, your vision blurring as every sound in the room becomes a jumble of noises and voices. Your mouth is dry, and you can’t breathe. Is this why you weren’t told? They knew of your history with Corroded Coffin, or worse, with Eddie? You haven’t seen him in years, and the thought of touring together makes your stomach flip.

“How long has this been planned?” You interrupt finally, attempting to keep your voice level. You feel everyone’s eyes on you, and chance a look at Steve, whose face has fallen with pity for you, and to Robin, who’s chewing her bottom lip feverishly as Lilith grips her hand. Sylvie drops their head in their hands, a sigh escaping their lips.

“We finalized with CC last week.” Bruce answers flatly, attempting to gauge your reaction to the news.

You nod curtly, and heave yourself out of your seat. The second you’re out of the office, you have a cigarette between your lips, and you’re struggling to light it with shaky hands. It isn’t long before Steve is beside you, offering his own lighter to the end of your cigarette.

“What the fuck?!” You look up at your best friend, and all he can do is shake his head. “Did you know about this? Tell me the truth.” Your voice is panicked, paranoid. Why wouldn’t they tell you sooner?

“No, I had no idea. I promise. I don’t think Eddie knows either.” You roll your eyes at his words. You don’t like remembering Steve and Eddie still talk, but it comforts you knowing he’ll be blindsided too.

“When do we leave?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?!”

“The Freak Show tour tickets have been on sale for months. They didn’t invite us on officially until today, but it’s been a plan for awhile. But I didn’t know. Eddie never mentioned waiting for another band. I don’t get it.” Steve is defeated, knowing how pissed off this news has made you, how stressed out you’ll be for the next three months. “I’m so sorry, Y/n, if I had known-“

“You would’ve told me, yeah yeah, I know. But you didn’t know, so you couldn’t tell me. There’s no use beating yourself up over it. This will be good for us. CC is huge, and to be invited to tour with them is gonna launch us to another level. If I survive it.”

Steve wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug which you return, sobbing freely into his chest. What the fuck are you gonna do?

-

Los Angeles

Eddie’s POV

Eddie kicks his feet up on the table of the Elektra Records meeting room, lighting his second cigarette in twenty minutes. He’s barely listening to the suits talk, discussing the details of the Freak Show tour. But something catches his attention when his manager mentions “that femme grunge band.”

“Death Dance?” Eddie looks up, the cig dangling from his lips. Jeff and Gareth send each other a look of worry that Eddie clocks, and he looks back to the executive at the head of the table.

The bald man nods. “They just signed on as your featured band. They’ll go on before you, after the openers. That okay with you, Mr. Munson?”

Eddie runs a hand through his curls, staring at the table like it’s the most fascinating piece of furniture in the world. Eddie’s not a drama queen. But he’s so close to losing his shit right now, trying to let the news sink in.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Sounds good.” He inhales again, trying to soothe the anxiety that’s gathering in his chest. It’s been years since he’s seen you. He can’t imagine what this context will do to him. He drank himself silly when he saw you on MTV for the first time, your music video for Pretty Boy in regular rotation, causing him to fall into a months long depression he only clawed himself out of recently.

He picks at the skin around his fingers, peeling the calluses formed over years of performing. He can feel the nervous sweat on his brow, the chills on his arms. The conversation dies then, the room visibly more tense as people shuffle out, leaving their frontman to deal with the anvil that’s been dropped on his chest.

-

It’s nighttime when Eddie finally gets home. His house in LA isn’t special, a two story home with a big yard and a basement studio, but nothing extravagant. He practically punches the phone as he dials, not able to calm his nerves all day. The buzzing in his head has gotten louder, more persistent.

“Hello?” Steve picks up on the third ring, sounding exhausted.

“Hey, man.”

“Eddie, shit, man. I meant to call you. You hear already?”

“Oh, I heard. You know about this?” He accuses, bitter venom leaking from his tone.

“Why does everyone think I knew about this? Of course not, dude. I would have warned you. Both of you!”

Eddie sighs. “How’re they doing? How is—“

“Y/n? They’re freaked, Eddie.”

“You think I'm not? You think I’m super jazzed about this?”

Steve groans, and Eddie can practically hear him rubbing his face in frustration. “No, obviously not.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it now. Tour starts in two weeks. It’s not like we have any say over the labels.”

“You’ll be alright. It’s been, what? three years?”

“Two.”

“I thought you broke up in ‘89?”

Eddie bites his lip. “Yeah, officially. We stopped seeing each other in 90, though.” It was the worst six months of the relationship, sleeping together without any of the love, any of the passion you once harbored for each other. It broke Eddie’s heart more than he ever had thought possible. He’s still recovering from the final time you left him.

“Regardless,” Steve’s voice snaps him back to the present, “You’ll be alright. I got you. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I can’t believe, after all we’ve been through, you still feel comfortable saying those words. It’s like you want to get your shit rocked.” Eddie chuckles, and Steve laughs with him. “Thanks, man. Really. And check on Y/n for me, yeah? I still worry about them.”

“Of course. They’ll never admit it, but I know you’re on their mind too. Goodnight, dude. See you soon.”

“See ya, Harrington.”

-

Your POV

“Who was that?” You plop down on Steve’s couch, a joint between your lips. Robin makes grabby hands at you, and you pass the toke to her before reaching for the chips in Sylvie’s lap.

“Uh, Eddie, actually. He got told today, too.” Steve takes his spot next to you as Robin passes him the joint. “How’re you doing?”

You read the earnestness in Steve’s eyes, and you can’t bring yourself to lie. “I’m scared. Our album releases the first day of tour, I never would have thought he’d be around for it. What’s he gonna think? When he sees that cover, if he listens to it? I’m screwed!”

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t believe that. Eddie’s never had a bad thing to say about you, all this time. Sure he’s hurt, you both are, but there’s no chance you’ll make him mad. I don’t think it’s possible.”

You roll your eyes. It’s almost a challenge. Maybe you want to piss him off, at least then you’ll know he’s hurting. Corroded Coffin has plenty of angry songs, but none of them sound like they’re about you. Maybe you’re clueless, though, missing what’s right in front of you.

“Hey,” Robin chimes in, scooting closer to you on the floor. “You have us, okay? You’re not going into this alone. We love you, we’ll make sure you’re okay the whole time.” Sylvie nods at her words, and Lilith reaches for your hand. You entwine your fingers with hers.

“I love you guys.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but it draws your friends into you, surrounding you in a group hug.

-

chapter II

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt | send a message to be added🫶

[fuckyeah-bears]

im sorry. i did not think i was ripping you off. i was very inspired by your blog, and was excited that you had responded to me. i was anxious, and honestly offended that you had called us a "meh knockoff" in your anon asks about the tag on my posts, i will be honest. it also did make me want to double down, yes, because i thought the pun of pandopamine was something cute and clever, and i had already thought about changing the names before. i apologize. it truly was just inspiration, not an attempt to rip you off. many of the aspects of my blog were inspired by you. im sorry for upsetting you so much, i just wanted to make a place for panda posts, a positive place to make people happy like your blog made me happy. i didn't think it would cause such anger. i do wish you had directly messaged me to talk this out, rather than vague post about me to so many, including with the anon that had said my name. i have gotten anons now with very hateful messages. im sorry for making you upset, i just wish this could have been handled more,,, civilly.

For fucks sake can people not ever send hateful anon messages to people?!? I’m pissed at the people who sent this person rude hateful messages.

Yes I have been immature about this and I know it and I’m terribly sorry that people have been dumbass shits and decided to go send anon hate like assholes. Yes I unintentionally fueled that. Yes I take responsibility for that. I was annoyed and angry and felt disrespected and wanted to vent but I intentionally tried not to put a blog name in my posts to avoid this.

So I’m sorry. I will delete the posts.

But for genuine fucks sake people. For the love of god NEVER send rude hateful messages to people. What the actual fuck?!? The whole deal with bearotonin is to spread positivity to make this shit ass world more bearable. Sometimes I get grouchy and irritable and post less positive stuff on here where I don’t have to maintain brand continuity and be all rainbows and sunshine and positivity all the time because I am fucking human and just need to vent and be a grouchy imperfect flawed human being sometimes. but honestly. use common sense. If I spend THAT much time trying to uplift people and spread positivity, do you really think I would ever in a million years condone nasty anxiety n hate and harassing messages?!?! What the fuck.

Ugh. This whole thing is such a stupid mess. Fucking occasional bears always starting shit ffs

[gwydionmisha]

Personal: I Ain’n’t Dead

It took about an hour and a quarter total, but we will find out if i had a heart attack or not on Tuesday.  They I had to chase down the asshole agency as they had not called to tell me the cleaner wasn't coming, so it's now rescheduled for Tuesday.  Then I waited on hold to try to schedule the mobility assessment, only to discover the number they gave was for central processing.  They were going to transfer me when call waiting beeped, so i made them give me the direct line number and extension.  (It was meds.  Pharmacy was delivering meds and they only wait five minutes so that was the correct call on my part.)  The making appointment direct line was faster by far, but I had no clue which wheelchair vender I was interested in. O.o  apparently they have the vender in on assessment days, so that effects scheduling.  I let her pick.  She was like: We like this one better, but we have to offer both.

Forage delivery still hadn't arrived.  It was now really hot and polleny outside.  This is relevant.  I can't leave food out there very long or it will spoil.  Inside, i have air conditioning and extra filtering.  I can breath inside, but not outside.  I was exhausted and frustrated and really pissed off about the medical stuff.  My chest was still tight.  There is a band of intense pain keeping me from lifting my arms  properly.  I manage to drag the laundry basket to me room anyway, but I'm not remotely up to the pain involved in folding it.  Livia wants her love.  I climb into bed for Livia loves.  My experience is, getting ready to sleep summons Forage Delivery somehow.  Livia is done with her love.  I've been in bed over an hour waiting.  Tavy insists I should sleep with claws to my nipple, because health stiff makes him anxious.

The phone rings.  We have the conversation where we double check which porch to put it on.  I lie there a bit, working up to the pain of levering myself out of bed.  I lumber out there.  No food boxes.  so I'm thinking did he think left instead of right?  So I'm out in the mid day sun with my crutch and bare feet, struggling to breath because I can't breath in the heat on a good day and this isn't close.  I have no idea how I will get the food boxes to my apartment.  My best guess is crawl on the pavement pushing them ahead of me because there is zero chance of my arms even lifting them.  It's not on the patios of any building facing the gazebo.  Me: did they drive past and hit the wrong side of my building?  So I hobble around the other side in baking heat and it's not on the logical patios.  I have to then hobble all the way back to my patio, exhausted.  I simply can't be out any longer or I will collapse.  This is why I have forage delivery, so I don't have to seriously endanger myself getting the food.  Which i am now doing and failing at miserably.

I try last call return.  No one answers.  Fuck!  I restart the computer and look up forage delivery dispatch.  I get a live human without a long wait on hold for the first time in two days.  This is possibly a miracle.  I am still struggling to breath when I explain and ask if they could at least give me a hint as to where the food is because I can't be out in the sun searching anymore.  She puts me on hold and reaches them.  she says they will come back.  

So I go lie down in my room where the air is best and wait.  He’s like: I’m right here.  The food is here.  I go look.  No man.  No food.  I used my stop a kid from across the playground below to see if we could get a Polo for my Marco.  No dice.  I had cleverly left the phone off the hook when I went to look on the grounds that the food was definitely not on my patio previously.  

It turns out that they'd put it in the middle of the other side of the building, expecting me somehow to drag it all that way over carpeted halls.  O.o  I didn't think to look there because we'd discussed patio locations in such a super specific way moments before he'd put it at the main entrance instead of a patio.  He was nice enough to bring it around and drop it right inside my door.

I have recently learned Millennials generally don't know the word "gazebo" and are afraid to ask or look it up because of the cleaners.  I am now wondering if patio may also be too bougie to be familiar, but lots of apartments around here come with small patios if they are ground floor, even the shitty apartments I can generally afford, just like tiny balconies are super common on upper floors in this region.  Surely jungle of plants and blue chair were hints though?  IDK.  We've lost a lot of delivery people in the decade we live here too. Something about the complex confuses people.

Forage delivery guy looked like a thiryish Mr. Clean and really was very kind, just confused.

Goth Millennial was sweet enough to come in on their day off to work and extra two hours looking after me, and then we finished the back third of a movie we'd been re-watching together.  I'm not great, but improving.  I also have a new unexplored theory about what is wrong with my arms from the article about statins I linked in this space.  I guess I'll run it by the doctor when I see them.

[percontaion-points]

TBWSIMBW chapter 18

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Click here for the rest of the series!

Chapter 18

“Wow, we really have some sluts at this school!” I whispered to Liam.

She says to the biggest manwhore there, after she herself slept with him after only a week of being in a romantic relationship. 

Look, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to have a lot of sex. Even with a bunch of people. But my problem is coming from Amber’s immense double standards here. 

“You can sit with me if you want to,” Kate offered, licking her lips slowly as she looked [Johnny] over. 

I’d rather sit on Mars without a spacesuit, thanks. 

“I still think you cheated, but people say that it’s only fair that you get the money, so there it is, Emo bitch,” she growled angrily. 

Holy crap! Did she just give me over four thousand dollars? I actually won the money? 

Kate stepped closer to me. “Jessica, you better back the hell off before I make you,” she spat angrily. 

I smiled happily. “It’s OK, Kate, there’s no problem. Thanks for this, Jessica,” I said, waving the envelope proudly. 

“Make sure you don’t lose it,” she stated with a smirk on her face. 

I had no doubt in my mind that she had some sort of plan that probably involved me dropping this money down a drain or setting fire to it somehow. Suddenly, I had a great idea that would seriously piss her off. I grinned happily as I turned to Liam. I stepped up close to him as I shoved the money down the front of his jeans, pushing my whole hand down there too. Liam grunted and looked at me, shocked. 

I ain’t even angry, that’s a good move. 

Lucky for me, my teacher was late too otherwise my tardiness would have earned me a detention.

Luckily for me, the only thing the author hates more than sexual abstinence is responsible adults. 

The next month passed really quickly.

What’s this, an actual fucking timeskip?! I’m kind of shocked the author would do something like this. 

Our relationship with Johnny had changed a lot too. He was actually a really close friend of mine now; he was such a nice guy and seemed to be growing in confidence every day.

I’m still kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop with Johnny. 

“Amber,” he said quietly. He smiled and I felt bile rise in my throat.

Chapter 18 summary: The next day at school, Jessica actually gives Amber the money that she won from the bet. However, she makes it seem like she’s going to get Amber to do something with the money, so in response, Amber shoves the big envelope down Liam’s pants. Liam laughs over the entire thing, but promises to look after it for her. They talk about what they want to do with it, but can’t really reach an agreement. 

Some time passes, and Amber becomes closer with her half-brother. One weekend, she agrees to go to one of his skateboarding competitions, although she’s really anxious about the thought that he might get hurt. She can’t even watch as he does his run/routine/whatever it’s called, and then is upset that she couldn’t watch. He ends up winning third place.

After, she suggests that they should get dinner together, and he invites her to his house. Amber is obviously upset over the thought of it, but only agrees when he promises that his mum and step-dad took the baby on a weekend get-away. So they go over to the new house. Amber is kind of sickened with how much that they have in comparison to how she and her own family are getting by. 

Then, because of course you knew it was coming… Here’s daddy!!

[area51-escapee]

I’m sorry I’m still so pissed off about this. I’ve been dealing with this for nine months now. I’ve been seeing doctors for eight months now. I have repeatedly been dismissed and brushed off, misdiagnosed multiple times, outright lied to, I’ve left multiple appointments in tears after once again being told my tests are clear and that’s that, but today??? This shit????? I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind, this was by far the worst and I just keep repeating it but I’m so angry, I’m angry that it happened and I’m angry that I didn’t tell this doctor to fuck off like I should have, but also I was just so stunned I spent most of the appointment just staring at him like

For nine months now, I’ve dealt with a series of symptoms that seem to have appeared just. Out of nowhere. What started as a minor ache in my left knee progressed into serious pain, pins and needles in my legs, severe fatigue, a constant tremor in my hands, losing the ability to walk unassisted, I began using a cane in December because I become so unsteady after a short while, a noticeable change in gait, I developed weakness in my legs to the point it took four months of physical therapy to get me close to where I was before, and finally involuntary movements in my limbs, including dystonia in my right leg. And I don’t care if I’m over sharing my medical issues online I don’t give a shit I’ve spent months talking to medical professionals who won’t listen so who gives a shit if I share it all here too since it doesn’t seem to be that important.

I’ve been to several doctors about it, all of them say the same thing, my tests are normal, so I’m fine, or I need to see a different doctor, or I need to make a second appointment if I want to address the thing I originally came in for that they chose to ignore. I had to stop seeing my PCP after she told me that my problems were above her pay grade, that they are too overworked and underpaid to do the things they say they will, and then cutting me off of a necessary medication because she was angry that I asked her to switch me to the generic version. I started seeing a new PCP and when I told her all my problems she referred me to this neurologist. This is the second neurologist I’m seeing for this issue. The first ran all the tests, they were normal, I’m out of luck. I also saw a neurosurgeon who told me that my symptoms weren’t neurological and to see someone else. So I’m referred to this neurologist, who specializes in movement disorders, particularly for the spasming in my right leg. The first appointment is with an internal medicine doctor who gets all my history and symptoms and also told me the leg spasms are dystonia. Today was the second appointment with the movement disorder specialist and I’m just. I’m going to list the things he said to me

He told me that wearing a mask is useless and ineffective.

He told me I’m addicted to my ADHD medication (I am not)

He told me repeatedly that all my symptoms are drug induced (I have been assured several times, including by the internal medicine doctor I saw two weeks ago, that the meds I’ve been on since long before these symptoms started are not the cause)

He told me things like “the garbage in our food” and “plastics” and implied that even childhood vaccines cause the symptoms I experience

He told me I need to get off all my meds and find alternatives for them

He told me I need to replace my preventative migraine medication with Botox injections (solely because Botox injections aren’t Pharmaceuticals I guess. Also it took me many painful years to find the right migraine medication for me)

He told me I’m overly anxious and terrified of catching an infection and dying (his only source was I’m on anxiety medication and I choose to mask)

He kept saying my symptoms weren’t “too severe”. When I tried to explain the extent to which I cannot walk without a cane he just doubled down and told me it’s not that bad because I can still “get around” (I am 24. I started using a cane at 23. I am not ashamed of using a mobility aid but needing one suddenly at this age is a sign something is WRONG)

He sent me home with information about diets that cut out anything slightly enjoyable and prescription protein drinks that aid in intermittent fasting (if he had listened to me for even a second I would’ve explained how my symptoms stopped me from preparing food and how I have no appetite and no interest in food the majority of the time. I have a feeling he wouldn’t have cared and would’ve continued to blame it on the Drugs™️)

I kind of wanted to laugh, I kind of wanted to cry, I kind of wanted to start beating him with my cane. And I’m still so angry. I waited months for this. I took off work for this. I paid a copayment for this. I put so much hope into this and all I got was. That.

I want a second opinion before messing with any of my medications. They have overall been a positive in my life and especially the psychiatric meds are not something I want to play with lightly. I’ve already scheduled a follow up with my PCP who referred me to him to. Discuss all that. Ideally I’ll be less angry by then.

I just feel hopeless. I’m scared because I don’t know what exactly is disabling me, I just know I suddenly became disabled one day, more than I was already I guess, and it’s been nine months and I still don’t know. Why. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know if it could get worse or happen again. I don’t know how to treat it, if it can be treated, I don’t know anything, and all the people who are supposed to know keep looking at the tests and telling me it’s good news! My tests are clear! And then ignoring the fact that all the symptoms are. Still there. I don’t know what to do. I think about walking into traffic or jumping off something high up not to try and kill myself but to just be hurt enough that people can see it, that people will believe me, that finally something will be done to help me. It’s not something I would actually do and the thoughts scare me but I’m so scared from not knowing what to do. If it were a broken arm or a fractured leg they could see that, they could treat that, but they can’t see it, they only have my word to go off of and the test results, and my word says I’m falling apart and the test results say I’m perfectly normal so what is there to do I guess. I don’t know.

[meetmyothersouls]

I’m your biggest fan & totally obsessed with the Halloween theme! Can I request 🔪Hotel of Horrors

You're so so kind! Thank you so much, never thought I'd have a fan :) This one's for you!

Hotel of Horrors

Warnings: creepy hotel, mentions of ghosts, curses and death, knives and lots of threatening

Timothee x first person reader

I'm pissed.

I slam my hand against the bell on a counter that no one sits behind. Not only is my room a mess, but it smells like a dead raccoons ass. I wish I was kidding, but it's pretty fucking bad.

"Hello?" I slam my palm once more on the bell, breaking it in the process. "Does anyone work in this shit hole?"

"I do," a shaky voice says as a body shoots up from behind the counter. He knocks over a vase behind him and barely saves it from shattering on the ground. He couldn't save the dying roses or the water from spilling out. "I do," he repeats.

His whole entrance startles me, and I step back a few inches. Did he not hear me torturing the bell sitting on his counter? And what the hell was he doing on the floor? A slew of other questions come to mind, but the timid man behind the counter starts talking again. He's tall, skinny and deathly pale. He reminds me a lot of a Tim Burton Claymation character. Dark circles surround his eyes rimmed in red and he licks his lips nervously. "S-so sorry, ma'am. I'm Tim Chalamet, a-a-and I run this establishment." His fist pounds on the counter and the action startles him even though he's the one who did it. "Wha-what can I do for you?"

"Well, you can start by chilling the hell out. You need a xanny or something? You're making me anxious as fuck, dude." Tim swallows hard as I speak. He looks around the lobby like a scared, tortured puppy, waiting to be attacked. By what? I'm not sure but he's gotta cut that shit out. "And second, have you or anyone else been in room 794? It's actually offensive."

"7-794?" Tim's shaky hands move to the keyboard of an old computer. He types what I assume to be my room number as his eyes bounce across the screen. "Oh," he says, his face draining of what color remained in it.

"Oh? What do you mean 'oh'?"

"N-nothing. Nothing. I'll gladly reimburse you and give you a new room for free. No one should be in room 394."

"And why is that?" I ask. He's peaked my curiosity.

Tim's hand shoots up and runs nervously through his hair, tousling it. He grabs a handful off it, but lets it go before he pulls any of it out. This dude is going through it. "Uhhh, died. Someone died in there. Multiple someone's actually."

"Multiple!?"

"Y-yes 34 to be exact. Rooms cursed. I'm so sorry."

I'm not sure if he's apologizing because of the mishap of me getting the room or the fact that there's a very grand possibility that I am now cursed myself.

Fuck.

"You're fuckin' kidding."

"No. No, sadly not." Tim shoots back down and pops back up with a new room key. 795. I can't help but roll my eyes. Like room 795 is any less cursed than its lovely neighbor 794. "Here's you're new k-key. Enjo-oy your stay." He drops the key on the counter and turns, making his way to a set of swinging doors, I assume lead to a break room of some sort. I've still got to get my stuff out of my old room, but at this point I'm too spooked to go by myself, but I'm writing a new book and need several of the things out of that room. Fuck, this place. I don't want to go alone. In my head I'm whining and stomping like a four year old. Tim has already disappeared behind the double swinging doors and I hear a TV flip on. I've got to convince Mr. Pantophobia to help me get my shit from the cursed room. I don't actually need help and I would usually never ask a man to help me lug my things around, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I pull my shirt down a little bit, exposing some cleavage.

"Tim? Hellooooo?" I knock on the wooden counter and he comes back out. Thank god. "Oh good you're still here. Okay, so...I'm probably going to need some help gathering my things." I see his pupils dilate as he assumes what I'm about to ask him. "Think you can help a girl out?"

His stutter gets worse as he reaches underneath the counter. He brings out a ring of keys and shakes vigorously. "S-s-s-s-sure. Yeah. Yeah sure." I know he doesn't want to, and he didn't even put up a fight when I asked. He didn't even look at my tits. We walk silently, to the elevator, and my curiosity gets the best of me.

"Sooo, you got any inside details on any of the 34 murders?"

Tim doesn't move his head but his eyes travel to the side until he's looking at me in what would seem like a painful manner.

"No."

Liar.

"Oh come on! You've own this place! You've got to know something about at least one of them!" I egg him on as he we arrive to the elevator. Tim uses a long bony finger to press the up arrow on the vintage elevator. It's definitely been upgraded since the hotel originally opened in the 50's, but they've kept the same old timey look to both the inside and the outside of the hotel. It would be really nice if the place wasn't so fucking creepy. Two sets of doors open and we step inside. They close slowly and Tim presses his finger against a round button with a number seven printed on it and we lurch upward.

"Th-this hotel has been in my family since it opened. We aren't sure wh-why it's plagued with misfortune, but we try not to dwell on it too much."

"Why not? History is history. It happened and it happened here, dude. You can't change that."

I'm actually shocked that this place doesn't get more business. I've not seen more than five people since I arrived here and that includes Tim. Usually haunted or cursed hotels bring in tons of business, especially when there's a possibility of catching a ghost on camera.

Tim is silent for a moment after my response, and it's probably because I'm fucking right and he doesn't want to admit it. But when he opens his mouth to speak, I'm not prepared for what comes out of his mouth or the chills that pepper my body.

"They don't like when we talk about what happened."

"Th-they who?" Great. Now I'm stuttering. The elevator dings and we come to a stop. Tim steps off and I trail behind him. He's giving me the creeps now and it doesn't help that the lights flicker as we walk through the hall of floor seven. "Tim, what does that even mean? 'They don't like when we talk about what happened.'"

We're in front of room 794 in no time, and I suddenly have the urge to just take my shit and leave all together. Tim's freaking me out and so is this creepy fucking hotel. I feel like there are eyes on me even though no one is here. Tim brings the ring of keys up to the knob and I notice he's less jittery, less nervous and for some reason that makes me more nervous. The fuck is going on? The key Tim separates from the rest is old, rusty and much longer than the others. It goes in with ease and twists only once until the door opens.

Suddenly this room is a whole hell of a lot more unwelcoming knowing it's cursed. Tim holds his hand out into the room as if to say after you and follows it up with a jerk of his head into the darkness. Why didn't I leave the lights on before I came downstairs to complain. I suddenly feel stupid that I requested his help to move my shit one door over.

"You know what? I think I got it from here. Thanks...for the escort."

"Nonsense," Tim replies, kicking the door shut behind him. "I'd be happy to help." He's no longer stuttering and his movements look confident and lethal.

I'm scared.

I'm shaking as I haphazardly throw my clothes back into my suitcase, not caring whether or not they're dirty or clean. I want to get out of this room and more importantly, away from Tim. Why'd he have to shut the door? The room seems stuffy now, and I'm sweating even though all I'm doing is throwing my shit back into my suitcase. I add my laptop and pocket my cell phone before I zip up my suitcase.

"Okay. Done. Let's go."

Tim has a half smirk on his face and one foot against the door behind him. He looks absolutely dangerous and I really, really miss it when he was afraid of his own shadow. "You want to know the real reason this room is cursed?" He asks, stutter long gone.

"N-no, I just want to get to my new room." I muster up the courage to walk toward him. He's skinny as fuck, I probably have more muscle than he does and can easily shove him aside, but when I come within a few inches of him, he stands up straight and towers over me.

Was he this tall before?

He's got a hand behind his back and when he pulls it out from behind him he reveals a knife. I mentally kick myself in the ass, knowing that's what he went behind those double doors for before we came up here. Damn it. He points the tip of the blade at me and I begin to walk backwards.

"I'll ask again, y/n. Do you want to know the real reason this room is cursed." He grits out the last word and pushes the blade into my stomach ever so slightly. I gasp at the contact, but play along. I have to play along if I want to get out of this.

"Y-yes. Yes I do. Tell me."

Tim pulls the knife away, but only so that the tip is no longer piercing the flesh of my abdomen. He cracks his neck and the sound of bones popping is overwhelming in this quiet room.

"Guess."

A tear slips from my left eye as my back hits the wall. No where else to go.

"I don't like guessing games, Tim. Just tell me."

"TOO FUCKING BAD," he screams, slicing into my jeans, making a clean cut into my thigh. It's deep enough to inflict pain but not deep enough to cause me to bleed out. He's got experience. "I do. Now, take a fucking guess or I'll push this knife so deep into your stomach, your organs will come with it on the way out."

A sob escapes my mouth and it takes me a minute to catch my breath.

I'm going to fucking die in here.

"You're taking to long, y/n." Tim raises his knife, the blade gleams in what little light shines from the heavily curtained window. "And I don't like to be kept waiting." He moves quickly, plunging it toward my stomach. I'm lucky enough to catch his wrist, and from sheer adrenaline alone, I'm able to hold him back and give him an answer.

"BECAUSE," I scream. "Because your family is batshit fucking crazy and you are the ones that kill here."

He smirks at me and I curse myself for even thinking that he looks the least bit attractive in this moment.

"Very good, y/n," Tim praises. "You know, I feel bad about this." The confusion must be evident on my face. He yanks his hand from my grip and uses the knife to scrape away the hair that's fallen into my face. "Don't be dumb. I mean the killing you part."

"Let me go then, you asshole." I'd love to knee him in the dick right now, but I don't. I want to leave this with as few stab wounds as possible.

"No. No, can't do that. Not when you know the family secret."

"Oh, geez. I won't tell anyone," I lie. He lets me go and I'm spilling my fucking guts.

"Yeah, like I haven't heard that one before. You're very pretty, y/n, but lying makes even the prettiest faces ugly."

I roll my eyes. This is taking too long. "Just kill me or let me go, you fucking psycho."

Tim taps the knife on his chin, contemplatively. "I don't think I'll do either."

My heart sinks as I think of the torture he has planned for me. This has taken a sick turn and I'm feeling more and more hopeless the longer this goes on. Why did I have to go downstairs and complain. Why? "Then what the fuck are you going to do?"

"Marry me."

"What?" He doesn't like the tone in my voice and by the look on his face, he's feeling a bit stabby. "I-I'm sorry. I'm confused."

"You seem to think you have an option in this. You marry me and you join me in carrying on my family business. I put a few kids in you so they take over. Or I kill you. Make a choice and do it quick. I'm missing my show."

A million thoughts cross my mind. The main one being the fact that he thinks I'll let him close enough to stick his dick in me and get me pregnant. The next one being that either way, I never get to leave this hotel of horrors.

"You're taking to LONG, y/n."

Tim raises his knife again and I have no choice but to join him.

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp

[sashi-ya]

For the mini nsfw event, Ichiji using his germa 66 genetics on you. Rough and hard that ended up with you overstimulated, squirting and even pissing all over him. Some more kinks I would like is size kink and belly bulge🥵🤤

Hiii my sinful anon, here I am with your request! I chose to write this fic as maybe a continuation of my first Ichiji fic! You can read it even if you haven't read the first one tho! I hope you enjoy 😈💖 ~

😈💜Sashi's Dark Corner💜😈

NSFW ~ Vinsmoke Ichiji x F! Reader ~ The Prince Is Back

tw: NSFW. Rough sex. Overstimulation. Squirting and pissing all over the damn Vinsmoke. Size kink. Belly bulge. Oral. Face fuck. Gag. Vag. Kinda cute ending?

a/n: you can read this fic as the second part of this one or by its own ~

wc: 2.9K (heh)

Like this event? masterlist ~

A slow morning that soon turns to afternoon finds you in complete peace. The sun is setting over the horizon and the breeze of the Grandline plays with your hair. Living in the castle, as his personal… bitch, as he likes to call you, has been a really good experience. You are still a servant, but not like the others. You are his “woman”.

Ichiji has changed since he met you. At first you were supposed to be just a semen container, an incubator for the next prince, but he found something in you he had never felt before… Is not that he suddenly became like his brother Sanji, so delicate and lovely, but for a Germa prince to sleep with the same woman on his bed every night is a lot.

In the distance, while you look through the balcony of your lover’s -owner- room, you can see the flying flag with the double 6 on it. Ichiji is coming back, the next King will be received with pompous canticles from the army of clones but he won’t mind, and instead he will come straight to your room… and for that you should get ready; the adrenaline of fighting and slaughtering enemies makes him extremely aroused and horny.

It is not that you are not anxious, in fact you are, your body is. They have told you not to fall in love with him, that he won’t feel love for you, because he can’t. But what do they know? They know nothing. And the exhilaration on your bowels at the anticipation of him taking you is everything you are focusing on now…

You are completely naked, just like he wants you. He doesn’t like to waste time undressing you -ripping apart your clothes-. He likes you waiting for him kneeling in front of the door, with the perfume of roses he specifically asked them to prepare for you. For some reason, that special rose oil turns him on like crazy… maybe it has to do with the fact that you were the “girl of the red roses” when he first saw you around the castle…

or maybe it is not that romantic.

And you wait, kneeling over the red velvet carpet, pressing your core against your heels, moving side to side to ease the anxiety of Ichiji coming home.

A loud bump on the door opens it in front of you, revealing him still wearing his crimson raid suit. White cape, so different from the rest of his brothers, his face a little stained in blood. Blood you are not sure whether comes from him, or from his enemies -most likely from others-.

“Where is my bitch?”

“Here I am, Ichiji-sama ❤ ~”

“Come here, bitch ~”

Sparking Red lifts you up with just one hand, so strong, body hard like steel. A yellow glove around your naked waist, tickling your flesh with the half leathery half cold feeling of them. You take off his glasses and throw them to the ground. You are the only one allowed, because he has specially granted you the privilege to do so.

Sky blue, deep like the ocean, so full of lust, eyes fix on yours. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, bitch… so fucking hard. Today I wanna keep the suit…” he says, with that classic smirk, paralyzing yet sexy, announcing how sore you will be tonight.

The white cape that covers his neck ends up on the floor, there is no need for him to use it here, the hardness of his skin and especially his dick is enough density for the time.

You fly to the bed as he throws you like you were made out of air. “Spread!” he commands, just like the first time, he always wants you spreading your legs for him. “Gonna ruin that little slit right there…” he laughs, taking off his special belt and sticking his tongue out. A little string of saliva from his mouth falls over your entrance, making your squirm at the warm touch of it.

“Let me see…” he says, taking one of his gloves off his hand and passing his thumb up and down your sex. “So wet, bitch… have you been playing without me, hhm?” he asks, always smirking, never mad at your arousal.

“I… I was a little horny while waiting for you, my Prince” you confess, biting your lower lip and pressing your knees together as you balance yourself from side to side. “Oh… you did? I should leave you tied next time so you don’t touch yourself waiting for my dick” he perversely communicates to you what he is probably doing next time. “In fact, I think I wanna tie you now, too…”

Ichiji passes his hand through his hair, undoing his fancy hairdo. Red longer strands fall over his shoulders giving the prince an extra wild look. Beast so horny for you, unties the red fine scarf around his neck and pounds over you. While his pulpy lips linger over yours and desperate pants warm the reddish tone of your smile, he ties your wrists over your head with his bandana. The tightness that you can definitely feel in your skin, the silky material sharply leaving marks on it as he pulls more and more from it to constrict it.

“There, there is no way that you could touch yourself now. I am the only owner of this pussy and I get to choose whatever I wanna do with it”

You moan at his supremacy statement; you are nothing but his cum doll and you love it since the very first time…

Ichiji-sama sticks, not subtly but ferally, his middle and ring finger inside you. Pressing your lower belly, a little too hard, he goes in and out with beckoning motion. He hits that special part, the heavenly pressure inside you that makes you squirm and moan louder. “M-more” you whine. “What? This? You like...this?” he smirks, going in and out faster and rougher. “Y-yes… my prince I…”

The red haired demon has just started touching you and you are already on the verge of tears, pleasure tears. He knows how to make you tremble, and he always wants you to lose control, complete and total control of your own body. As a ruler, as a future king with clear royal ideals there is nothing he likes more than to be the maestro of your body orchestra to make you play the most beautiful melody with your moans.

You, on the verge of climax, can only moan and let him do as he pleases. And even if you wished you could touch him, the knot of the bandana around your wrists it’s too tight for you to free yourself from it.

He sticks his fingers out, playing with the strings of your arousal elixirs. Always smirking as he inspects the wetness that covers them up, so proud of being the one to make you so horny and needy. “Taste test, heh” he mumbles, and takes his hand to his mouth. He devours his own fingers, tasting your fluids’ ambrosia, closing eyes in delight.

“I’m kinda hungry…” he says, and flops into bed with his face in between your legs. He does not wait a single second, and uses his whole tongue over your sex, making you scream at his initial touch. “Ooff, bitch you are wetter than ever. Did you miss me?” he asks, muzzled by your throbbing anatomy. “I did… baby… my prince…” you moan, slipping a sweet “baby” in the middle, realizing you have probably committed a huge mistake…

You hear him laugh, whether sarcastically or for real you don’t know, but definitely you will face the consequences of such a cute nickname. “Baby?” he asks, cleaning the mess of your sex on his chin with his forearm. “I… I’m so sorry, Ichij-sam-” you mumble, but he is not mad, and instead kisses you with salty lips.

“You love me, don’t you?” he asks, burying his nails on your cheeks. “Tell me you love me, come on…” he insists, eyes on fire and perhaps with a special sparkle behind. “I… I do. I love you, my prince” you mumble, sad because you know deep inside, he is asking because he think his worth only comes for how good he is when fucking you… damn Judge, raising monsters that believe the only love they deserve is given if they don’t fail…

He smirks, once again. A huge grin, in between perversity and relief. You wouldn’t expect for him to be insecure, but he is, and he needs constant reassurance. “I love you so much” you dare to repeat, just to make the idea settle into his brain.

“Good girl” he grunts, and you hear the zipper of his red pants go down. And you tremble, oh you do… you don’t know if it’s just part of his normal body or because of the genetic modifications, but he is huge. Really huge. And you, compared to him, look like a little nymph.

Ichiji’s length now rests over your belly, he gets ready to fuck you and you know that means feeling you are being ripped apart. His Germa powers make him extremely strong and resistant, and also fast. His hips are fast, his hips move mercilessly in and out every time he takes you… and today it won’t be different.

His pants finally fall to the ground as he stands next to the bed. You, so ready for it, wait for him to finally attack. His hard, long, sex barely covered by the long upper part of his suit, drips precum into the floor. Your mouth gets watery, but you want him fully undressed. His body is a perfect work of art to be covered by clothes.

The prince looks at you up and down, ocean eyes scanning your naked body. He spits on his hand and takes it to his dick, while pulling his red shirt up with the other. “Come here, kneel on the edge of the bed” he commands, and that means just one thing; first, you will be faced fuck, then he will destroy your insides.

“Yes, my prince” you diligently say and crawl closer to him with difficulty as you still have your wrists tied. “Call me baby, if you prefer” he whispers, looking at the side, and you could swear his cheeks tinted in red after that statement. “Sure, baby ~” you tell him, smiling sweetly. Step by step… he is learning the meaning of love.

His thumb plays with your lips, before commanding you to open your mouth and receive his sex inside. You do as he tells, feeling your cave stuffed. He is so big and even if the tip of his dick hits your throat repeatedly it is impossible for you to take it all inside. You gag, tears in the corner of your eyes, gasping for air, strings of his honeys form on your tongue. Your eyes fix on his head thrown back, and the way his sharp jaw pulls and tense his neck’s muscles.

With grunts, like a beast, he thrusts in your mouth while pulling from your hair. “Swallow” he orders, and you feel his gland get imprisoned by your throat flesh, making him moan with that sweet sexy voice tone he has. “Bab…Bitch, you do it so well… you were done for sucking my dick”

But the twist and pull of your nipples while he keeps fucking your mouth are not enough and you sincerely want him to fuck you… and call you baby.

“Stop, stop. Let me fuck you now, I wanna fill you up and I want you to moan loud enough for the whole castle to hear you, ok?” “Yes, baby”

He pushes you back, falling over the mattress with your back. But Ichiji won’t fuck you in a classic missionary position, of course not. “Turn around” he orders, helping you lay on your belly. You watch his reflection on the window next to bed, and before him taking off the long sleeved upper part of his suit, he takes a look at the orange sky. You know this man too well to notice there is more than lust in those eyes…

He flops over your back; his crushing weight makes your chest to barely and superficially move in order for you to get at least some gasp of air. Your wrists hurt; the bandana gets tighter every time you move your hands. Your arms rest over your head and you use your forearm to separate your face from bed.

“Let me take this out for you” he utters, placing first a kiss on your back that makes your skin go bumpy. His veiny hands skilfully untie the bandana revealing red marks around your wrists. “Auch” he giggles, grazing the marks with his index. But as much as the whole red marks situation is getting most of your attention, you can't ignore how his hand is now guiding his sex in between your legs.

Ichiji keeps your legs closed with his own, on each side and sits softly over the back part of your thighs. “It will feel tighter, you know? Bite my bandana” he warns and commands you, making you get the cloth inside your mouth. You close your eyes, and bite so eager to receive this man inside you. He slides inside you, slowly -torturing you, not to protect you from any pain-. Your walls stretch, as you feel him filling your cave. The position makes his dick’s subtle up curving form hit your g-spot and just when you thought he was completely inside you, he gives you a violent blow. Deep, so deep. You could swear you felt the tip on your stomach.

He grunts at your clenching, constricting walls around his length. You moan, shouting louder not because he has asked you for it, but because you genuinely feel the need to do so. “Ich… Ichiji…” you moan, biting the bandana, getting drunk with the scent of his skin. Classical, delicious, sweet like a treat, like a dessert.

Ichiji grunts, and annoyed pulls from your hair. His lips graze your cheek, and he whispers in between moans “Ichiji?”. “Baby…” you whine, so sorry for disrespecting your owner. “That’s. So. Much. Better” he says, each thrust pronouncing a word.

And he goes rough, rough, and hard. Huge palm open that sometimes squeezes and sometimes slaps your ass. You feel stuffed with his member inside you, sweating and out of breath, leaving you once again on the verge of climax, you are losing control of your own organic functions.

“Come here” he whispers and stops his hammering motion just to turn you around. You end up sitting over his crossed legs, Ichiji grabs your waist and pushes you against him. He goes even deeper now, and your eyes widen to see how the bulge in your belly shows every time he impales you. He doesn't need to make an effort, his hips move in and out of you quickly, hard, strong.

You rest your arms with sore wrists over his naked fair and wide shoulders, almost going limp, almost crying. The stimulus of his dick destroying your inside, the way he breathes into your mouth, panting, grunting, sometimes biting your lip, everything is making you ascend to heaven.

You feel a pressure so soon to be relieved, pressure that builds up on your lower belly, getting wet by increasing arousal fluids but also about to lose control even from your bladder.

"B-baby… I feel like I'm gonna pee myself here" you moan, desperately because you don't want to ruin the moment but you are desperately trying to regain consciousness on the administration of your own body parts.

"That means you are about to burst and come, do it" he moans, this time less serious and letting himself go into the upcoming orgasm that soon will hit him too. "But..." You whine, tears in your eyes from the overstimulation, from the incapacity of control yourself.

"Shut up and let it go...baby" he insists, kissing you, burying his nails into your ass so he could make you hump even faster over his dick.

Baby… baby… he called you baby…

You moan, he moans too and the pressure inside you releases. Squirting, letting your bladder do whatever he wants, wetting his lap, you come. This is the first time you are experiencing so freely to allow your body to do whatever it pleases, while fixing your eyes into his, feeling soon how Ichiji gets extremely aroused by your fluids lets himself go, filling you up with his warm release.

Messed sheets, kissing passionately like never before, his arms around your waist, caressing your back up and down in loving motions. "Baby…" he smiles, with his lips pressed against yours. He is happy, so happy to pronounce a sweet nickname to you, this is a new him, a free him.

Every time your bodies encounter, he takes a step further into understanding that what he feels for you might be something they say he is unable to experience; love…

"Come on, let's take a shower" he says, and even if you thought he was telling you to go get clean by your own, you were wrong. Ichiji carried you in his arms, and both enjoy the warm feeling of a soothing bath, together 💜~

[adonis-koo]

Star Struck

| 2 |

↳ Summary: You’re a creature of habit, you plan everything from each hour to each day, so you can imagine the chaos which ensues after you discover a random guy leaking black goo in a ditch- who just so happens to be an alien.

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: lowkey strangers to lovers, alien!jungkook, fluff, smut, 

Word Count: 13k

Tags: tentacle sex im sorry, foreplay, oral (f) but not?? jungkook is technically a virgin by human standards ayyy, penetration, nipple play, over stimulation, double penetration, squirting, sub!jungkook, breath play, spit kink, jungkook can make his own lube??, anal im so sorry, praise kink, they become soul mates on accident oops,

Previous | Next

You didn’t see nor understand what JK was talking about at first, he just fumbled along between alleyways and roads and nobody, or what little people were on the streets didn’t look at you twice given your friend was as tall and broad as he was. Perks of being with a man you guessed. You still didn’t know what he was actually talking about except for the assumption that he had found his...friends…?

Eventually JK had dragged you through a lot of fields which had made you increasingly anxious, what if a kidnapper was out here? True you wouldn’t mind him using his talon like tentacles then but still...You also didn’t want to go to jail for assisting a homicide...Standing in an empty field, at the dead of night, was not what you intended on doing on a friday night.

JK seemed excited though as he bounced, grabbing a hold of you, he pressed his thumb to your forehead, your eyes fluttering shut on instinct from being so close to him suddenly but your brows pinched and an uncomfortable ache throbbed in your head before he released you. Rubbing your head you whined before you looked up again, only jumping with a screech at the...ship...in front of you...which was NOT there a moment ago. 

“Home!” JK announced proudly as he grabbed your hand, tugging you along against your will, was this really...his ship? Oh god what if he was abducting you...You didn’t have time to think as he ushered you inside. It looked small on the outside admittedly but on the inside it was all glossy and clean, a sleek futuristic look dawning the interior.

Futuristic, he was an alien, you weren’t shocked at the assessment but still. This must’ve been the hanger or...living area… or...hell if you knew ship terms, it looked like the dining room but you didn’t expect two others to appear. All of them speaking in that same throaty tongue as he ran to them, embracing them with pure excitement on his face before he pointed to you, a look of pride on his face as he cleared his voice, “Y/n.” He spoke clearly as if introducing you.

 You gave an awkward stiff wave before immediately dropping your arm, you were going to be extremely pissed if this was the LSD trip you thought you were having yesterday. You watched them all speak to one another before the one on the right nodded, saying something before gesturing JK off, who hurriedly ran off leaving you alone....with two aliens…

They both looked at you expectantly as you looked around, “Hi…” You offered an awkward smile, “You guys are terrifying…” Watching the one on the right grab a watering can to pour over a small...purple colored...tree? “You less so…” You turned to the other one, his eyes dark and piercing and wow…if you thought JK was hot you hadn’t even thought about what it would look like to seem someone attractive from his species, “You the most…” You wrapped your arms around yourself uncomfortably. 

“He’s just assessing you, Taehyung’s like that with anyone associated with our Jungkookie.” You nearly wheezed at the sound of the one on the right speaking full...English…he offered a dimpled smile as if anticipating that reaction, “Apologies. I’m Namjoon, I’m sure you’re extremely confused and scared with everything going on.” 

“...You could say that…” Your twisted somewhat painfully as you nodded rapidly, it was midnight and you were in a fucking spaceship, “Ummm, where did JK go…?” 

Namjoon as he called himself suddenly snorted, shaking his head as he sighed, “Told him he should’ve paid more attention in the academy,” He rolled his eyes, “Jungkook,” He emphasised the name, “That’s his full Earth name. He just forgot it because he never pays attention,” He offered a weak smile, “And he’s in the memoir chamber rememorizing English so he can actually speak to you. It’s handy for us Orionian’s in case a situation like this happens and we don’t know archaic languages like English.”

You didn’t understand a word of what he just said, “I’m sorry...I think I’m too dumb to talk to you, honestly…” You felt extremely stupid but much to your surprise Namjoon laughed in delight, as if endured by your words. 

“You humans are pretty humble huh,” He hummed as he continued watering the rest of his  plants, “Anyways, our ship crashed here on Earth on our way to the andromeda galaxy and Jungkook ended up falling out, it was an...extremely rocky crash…” His smile still weak as if a vague memory entered his mind, “You have our utmost thanks for taking him in when he was injured and housing him.” 

“It’s no problem, I would’ve done it for anyone.” You shifted a little, smiling a tiny bit despite still not feeling as comfortable as you wish you could be, it was just difficult to take in everything that was rapidly changing but your words still stood, you would have. Especially for...Jungkook...you lingered on the same, it sounded more fitting for the tall puppy like boy. 

“So what are your intentions with Jungkook?” You jumped at how deep the second voice was...Taehyung if you remembered correctly and he only looked about as hot as he was intimidating, “Why did you take him in if you knew his identity.” 

You flailed a little, intending to speak yet no words came out...you...you hadn’t really thought about it...at all honestly…”I...I ummm...well…” 

“Are you working for them?” Taehyung stepped towards you, his expression becoming cold as you feebly took a step back looking towards the ground and unsure of how to answer or if you’d even given him a satisfying answer. 

“Stop.” The new voice was raspy and low, not too terribly deep, but just enough to sound charming and rather rugged, Jungkook had appeared again only this time, immediately standing defensively in front of you, “She found me and even after finding out about me being an Orionian she didn’t report me to any Earth officials. I trust her, and you should too.” 

He...he could speak...perfect English now...What!? 

Taehyung’s eyes narrowed onto you, still distrustful but he laid off, “Right...and what is this about you bonding with her? I don’t think she’d be a good vessel.” 

Jungkook’s jaw twitched and you could see the glow of the crescents on his hand burning in red, “Well I’m not asking for your permission to bond with her.” He spat back, his brows furrowed and his lip twitching in anger, suddenly he didn’t look so cute and puppy like anymore, “And it’s not like we’re getting off Earth anytime soon with the ship in this state, so it’s best if we just resume the plan as originally intended.” 

“You think I’d choose a vessel as inferior as humans to have my offspring?” Taehyung’s face curled as if that was the biggest insult he had ever heard and yet you nearly choked at his words, vessel? Offspring? Uh what? 

“Stop fighting,” Namjoon sighed and much to your surprise both of the two boys quieted down, Jungkook still stood in front of you, shuffling a little closer as Namjoon sighed, “Jungkook is right…” He made a noise of victory as Taehyung’s mouth twitched in anger, the marks along his body burning a deep red that was just a little scary to watch from afar, “With the technology at hand here on Earth and with Arbitrators searching for us, it’s in our best interest to make the most of what we have here. Besides, Earth is unsuspecting and was one of our forerunner’s best creations. It’s not too far off irony to let them be the vessel of our offspring.” 

You stared up at Jungkook’s broad back in disbelief...this man was trying to impregnate you after a half a day of knowing you!? You weren’t sure plan B was prepared for this shit. Jungkook looked deeply satisfied at Taehyung’s reaction though before he turned to you, his expression soft and puppy-like as he smiled somewhat timidly before speaking as if he was a little giddy, “Hi…” 

You could’ve said anything in this moment, in which Jungkook looked like he had been excitedly waiting for, and yet your choice of words had been admittedly poor.

“You’re gonna have to bag another bitch, I don’t do kids! I...I did NOT sign up for this!” You immediately backed away from him like he was poison and you didn’t know how these fuckers procreated and at this point you weren’t sure you wanted to learn!

Jungkook’s lips parted and he looked a little hurt before he quickly approached you again, “I don’t expect you to want to carry my children yet….” 

“Yet!?” You shouted out making all three of them flinch a little, “I...I just let you stay at my place because you looked like you were dying in a ditch, and now! I’m in a spaceship, I can’t find the exit and you can suddenly speak English and you’re talking about kids!? This...nu-uh this is going way too fast. I...I really need to get home.” 

Jungkook’s lips trembled a little as he reached out for you, “I’ll take you back! Or-! Or you could stay here until the morning, you shouldn’t be out alone, Earth has proved to be unsafe at night.” He tenderly held your forearms as your expression awkwardly twisted. 

“Nothing worse could happen to me than what happened earlier tonight,” You shook your head rapidly as you sighed, “Just show me the exit, I’ll be fine, really. I’m happy for you! Seriously! I mean it looks like you’re reunited with your kin so there’s no reason for us to stay in contact and it’s been fun and out of this world- literally.” You laughed a little as you rambled, all three staring at you wide eyed, “But like, seriously I’ll keep this to myself and just hope it’s a really shitty drug trip like I originally thought it was…”

Jungkook sighed, lowering his head in defeat and his lips trembled a little in that sulky way it had been this morning as he went to the hatch where you both had come in, dialing a few buttons he waited a moment as he mumbled, “I just want to explain everything to you, I owe you that, at least…” 

You said nothing waiting for the door to open as he dialed a few other buttons, and a few more, and again...and again…”Um,” He cleared his throat a little, “Namjoon…? The door?” He asked, his eyes doe like as he stared at his companion who sighed, squeezing between you both as he also dialed a few numbers into the glowing pad. 

They both waited before Namjoon’s lips twisted into a sigh as if somehow expecting this to happen before he spoke, “Doors’ jammed...again…”

“This is fucking perfect.” Taehyung swore with a sigh, gritting his teeth as his eyes glared into you briefly, causing you to sheepishly back a little towards Jungkook, “I’m going back to my pod, I can’t deal with this.” He brooded before leaving as you looked between both aliens. 

“...Jammed? The door? As in…?” 

Jungkook’s lips twisted into a nervous smile, his marks glowing a light purple as he coughed, “Looks like we’ll have plenty of time to talk now…” Fuck! Why did things have to be this complicated, it could have been worse, but it was the same annoyance you had when Youtube played an unskippable ad, or when the lead in your pencil broke, a cookie falling onto the floor, that type of inconvenience.

Unshockingly Jungkook didn’t hold the same feeling as he spoke gently, “I can show you to my pod, it’ll be awhile before the door gets fixed…” He gave you an endearing apologetic smile. 

“...As long as you aren’t gonna try to knock me up then sure.” You stared at him in disdain, making him weakly smile as he stepped back up the metal stairs and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed he was actually happy you were stuck with no other choice but to stay. 

“Once you see her to your pod, a word please Jungkook...” Namjoon’s gaze was fixed on the door quizzically as if already trying to deduce what had made it jammed, he made no effort to look back at you both but you could tell it was probably important. 

Jungkook only nodded eagerly and kept your hand in his as he lead you down the small the hallway, lights flickering and while you were anything but an engineer or mechanic, it wasn’t hard to tell they had crash landed, Jungkook ignored the mess against the walls as he typed in something before a door slid open revealing what you assumed was his room, the door slid shut behind you making you jump a little as you investigated the space. It was a minimalistic room, a few trinkets laid around and a messy bed was against the wall.

“You can sleep if you want...I know you were tired when I woke you up…” Jungkook’s marks glowed a soft pink as he bashfully looked at the ground, scratching his cheek as if he didn’t know what to say, “I um...I should go speak to my brother.” 

Before you could even say anything Jungkook had already left looking somewhat sheepish, leaving you to curiously look around the room, it was spacious and in tones of deep brown and black, a few gadgets laying around on his nightstand as you tilted your head. 

His pod...so basically...a bedroom. You assumed as much as you couldn’t really make a distinct difference between the two. True you could’ve slept like he had suggested, you were exhausted but too wired to even think about sleeping at the moment due to how bizarre of circumstances you were in. You were in an alien’s bedroom, on a space ship...

You had took your time browsing around the room, curiously holding a few trinkets in an attempt to figure out what they were, time passed slowly and for a while, you began to wonder if this was just a set up for them to butt probe you like Jimin had original thought they would. Not that you would mind as much as him but- besides the point, the longer you were left with your thoughts, the more that piled up.

When the door abruptly opened you nearly jumped out of your skin, hurriedly setting down what looked like a portable flame thrower before whirling around, Jungkook looked a little timid as he smiled, “I’m sorry that took so long...Um...” He closed the door gently before he gestured, “Please, go ahead and rest, from my understanding...um...humans have a standard sleep cycle yes?” 

You didn’t fully understand what he was asking besides if you slept at night, rubbing your neck you did as he gestured, taking a seat on the bed before you jumped a little as it did not feel like a normal bed, “Uh I guess...? Why...why didn’t you just leave? You...didn’t have to wake me.” You mumbled, scooping your feet up as you laid down, shifting a little as you tried to get comfortable.

The bed felt almost like a marshmallow, something in between water and memory foam as the bed moved in slow, lapping waves as you attempted to get comfortable again with a pout tugging on your lips. 

Jungkook watched you with endearment before he laid on the bed next to you, “You have to stop moving, coranium matches the pattern of your body to keep everything aligned and slowly adjusts to the movement of your body throughout your sleep duration.” 

You rolled onto your side to look at him as you curled up a little, his marks still a light pink and his smile a little shy as he spoke, “To answer your question I mean...I feel like it should be obvious, I want to make my bond with you so it was natural I wanted to take you with me. I don’t know Earth well enough to confidently navigate it on my own without getting lost. I couldn’t risk leaving you and then being unable to find my way back. As well as I knew I’d be able to learn English fast in the memoir chamber, so then we’d be able to talk…” he smiled a bit timidly, his eyes fondly washing over your face as you awkwardly scooted a little away from him. 

His eyes downcasting a little at the gesture as he frowned, and once again, even despite speaking english now it didn’t help his case in looking like a kicked puppy, “Well...am I supposed to know what a memoir chamber is? And….bonding and...literally everything you guys have said thus far?” 

Jungkook rested his chin on his hands as he hummed, thinking about your words carefully before he spoke, “The memoir chamber is in most Orionian ships, it helps us adapt to the planet around us and depending on what region we’re in, the language. Our kind carry human DNA- or...moreso the other way around, so inherently we know all Earth languages as they descended from Orionian dialect, but…” He scratched his cheek, marks glowing pink once more, “I had a difficult time studying earth languages in the academy. It’s unrealistic for us to know them all, so the Memoir serves as a rebrief to put in the language back into our minds.” 

God what were you in now? A shitty sy-fy film? You rolled onto your back as you said no more, thinking about his answer for a good long minute before you parted your lips only to shut them...Hold on one damn minute- did he just insinuate his kind created humans? Knowing all languages? What!? “I don’t even know how to unpack that sentence…” You muttered, staring up at the ceiling which twinkled in a galaxy of constellations and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve assumed it was an open glass ceiling to outer space.

It aligned with nebula’s and stars, planets for what looked like miles and miles. You could stare at it for hours in awe, how did you not notice that until now.

“I could only imagine being human, it’s a lot to take in,” Jungkook offered a gentle smile, “As for bonding…” He was pink all over as he scratched his cheek again, eyes fluttering away from yours almost shyly, “It’s what it sounds like, when we Orionian’s find a person who we like and want to share our life with, we begin a bond, and it takes awhile for the bond to grow but once it’s finished, we’d complete it with a mating cycle, and then...We’re celestially bond together.” He mumbled a little shyly, his eyes looked like stars twinkling as he talked about it, almost in a dreamy fashion. 

“....” You couldn’t even find the words to say anything before you muttered, “You’ve known me for a day…” True Jungkook was cute, but all of this stuff about bonding and space really made it difficult to grasp the concept in a way which wasn’t him basically proposing to you.

Jungkook looked as if he had been abruptly pulled from his little fantasy world as he frowned, propping himself on his forearm as he spoke, “Time is only a concept for Orionian’s, when we know who our bond is meant for, we just know. It doesn’t matter if I’ve known you a day or your whole life, my feelings won’t change. I want us to bond.” His voice lowered a little, his eyes doe-like and filled with a sugary sweetness as he closed the gap between you both. 

You were speechless. Many times in your life you had felt this way, but genuinely, you had no words. An alien just professed his love to you within twenty four hours of knowing him all because...what…? You fed him twice? Let him sleep in your bed once? What had you possibly done for him to think you could be his...his wife!? 

“I’m not getting married, I- I mean I’m flattered! I am.” You sat up, once again, pulling away from him as he mirrored you, his lips jutting into an almost frustrated pout, “But like...I just turned twenty one this year....I’m hardly a person let alone wife material.”

“Bonding is hardly even close to the equivalent of human marriage,” Jungkook wrinkled his nose, almost a little endeared, he knew little of human marriage from the media he had watched when you weren’t present, and while humans had similar ideas of romance, it was hardly comparable, he spoke gently, “It’s far more special and permanent. Being bonded is…” He closed his eyes, a half dimpled smile on his lips as he hummed, “It’s like feeling like the universe has completely aligned on your behalf, and that the planets and stardust gifted you a celestial mate who would never turn their back on you, who would always dry your tears and heal you when you’re hurt. The bond extends past this lifetime and into the next and so forth.” 

“...You lost me at ‘more’ permanent…” For a woman with a whole baggage load of commitment issues Jungkook was really not selling this idea to you well, “Sorry but I think you got the wrong girl.” You could appreciate the bizarreness of this situation and admittedly you felt like you’d always have a superior ‘main character’ moment story to one up somebody with but this whole business about being stuck with someone for multiple lifetimes and having alien babies was really not something you could follow up with.

Jungkook looked severely hurt which made you do a double take, not quite anticipating such a pitiful reaction as his lips quivering and his eyes even looking somewhat glassy as he spoke, “O-oh...I see…” 

wow way to make you feel like an asshole. He had shuffled a little curling up against himself as if trying to make himself appear small as he looked away from you. Sighing you ran a hand through your hair, well fuck, what did you have to lose at this point in your life?

“...Jesus christ, okay...what...what does...you know…” you coughed a little, rubbing your neck as Jungkook’s doe eyes looked at you timidly before darting away when you met his gaze, “What does this bonding shit entail anyway?” 

Jungkook was incredibly attractive, there was no denying it and the worst that could happen would be things didn’t work and you just went back to normal non-tentacle men. Jungkook perked a little at your question, still seeming a bit reserved as he mumbled, “Well...bonding is a long process...it’s not something out of human fiction that just immediately happens. When a bond is first created it’s incredibly delicate, you have to be careful and make sure both partners dedicate time to strengthening the bond.”

Laying your head against your arms that were folded in front of you while listening intently you hummed, “And let’s say hypothetically, could the bond be broken?” 

Jungkook’s expression crumpled a little as he mumbled, “It can be severed, but the more strengthened the bond is, the more painful it’ll be for both partners. But yes, it is possible. I should also mention a bond is only possible unless both partners are in agreement and want it just as much as the other.” 

You hummed, thinking about his words, so technically it wasn’t really possible given both of you had different alignments right now, “Alright well, here on Earth we call it dating, which is a lot less intensive than that, so if you want me to do that then you’re gonna have to go by human standards first.” It was reasonable enough and a happy compromise.

You wouldn’t deny you felt a pull towards Jungkook, ever since he had arrived yesterday morning your life had been anything but normal and yet you embraced every twist and turn so far and...there was admittedly a secret giddy part of you that revelled in old childhood nostalgia that someone had actually fallen from the sky and would now show you a world of many possibilities outside of earth. 

The only thing holding you back was the logic and reason that your family held and pushed onto you at a young age, long gone were the days of staring up at the stars in hopes of seeing something supernatural and daydreaming during recess about being whisked off earth. You didn’t know how to connect with that childlike side of yourself anymore, it had been so long since you bothered with those thoughts that now that the opportunity was presented to you, you genuinely didn’t know how to react.

Jungkook had immediately perked up his brows raised and immediate interest in his expression, “I’ll do it! If it means winning your affection,” his smile was a little toothy and innocent as he spoke, “How do humans date? What do they do?” He tilted his head in curiosity while waiting excitedly for your reply.

You couldn’t help but smile a little at how enthusiastic he was, “Well…” you drew a breath in thought, “It’s not too different then it is from now, we’ll go out to eat together, get to know each other, stuff like that.” 

Jungkook deflated a little, confusion in his eyes as he frowned, “But that’s stuff we do now...as...friends…” his frown furthered on his lips, “What sets friends and dating apart if we do the same thing…?” 

You rubbed your neck, beginning to get a little flustered at his question as you shifted a little, mumbling, “Well the difference is friends are strictly platonic, dating someone means you’re interested in them romantically and...you know...we hold hands...or cuddle or...I don’t know romantic shit…Stuff friends don’t do.” 

When did Jungkook get closer to you? His head tilted in curiosity as he spoke, “...And? Is that it? I’m sorry,” he apologized a bit bashfully, looking rather pink, “I’m trying to discern possible differences in boundaries set between a regular human relationship compared to Orionian’s…I don’t want to do anything that might make you...uncomfortable…” 

You stared at him for a good moment, as if trying to discern whatever he was trying to say without actually saying it, “Well...I’m not sure how different it can be…” Jungkook said nothing, fidgeting a little as you looked at him for a long moment, “...I’d tell you if you made me uncomfortable.” Was this...going where you thought it was going? 

Jungkook shuffled a little closer, his nose nearly brushing yours and his lips that looked so soft jutted into a slight pout, his eyes could hardly meet yours as he timidly asked, “...How...intimate are humans in their relationships?” 

Your face felt like it was on fire though as you muttered with raised brows, “Uh pretty hands on...if you wanna fuck me you can just ask.” You looked up at him, feeling a bit bold given he was a little more on the shy side, you could tell just him asking that had obviously taken a lot of courage on his part.

Jungkook’s marks had suddenly filtered from baby pink to a deep maroon, his face looked nothing except shy and a bit hazy as he mumbled, “Would you let me…? I don’t...exactly share the same anatomy as your male counterpart...Orionian’s...intimacy looks a bit different.” 

You felt intrigued and horny at the same time, it was tentacles wasn’t it? Please god let it be the tentacles, “You can’t threaten me with a good time,” you laughed a little, trying to take a little bit of the nervous edge off Jungkook as you offered a small smile, “Just show me, I’m...what other humans would consider pretty kinky. Doubt it’ll scare me off.” You couldn’t admit that his tentacles were immediately making your panties soaked because god did you want to be filled up like a scared hentai girl right now.

You squeaked at Jungkook suddenly climbing on top of you, his eyes hazy and he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, revealing the strip of glowing maroon that led up the center of his arms and wrapped over his shoulders, his tentacles suddenly emerging from his back much to your horny excitement, “Our tendons are both are strongest and weakest point of our body.” Jungkook mumbled against your neck, the feeling of something extremely foreign wrapping around your thigh, almost something between like a soft silicon and jello substance. 

Not sticky like you had anticipated, but soft enough that it could be almost considered wet, “They protect us but they’re also what we use to procreate with, if they’re cut off or majorly damaged, we become sterilized. My eggs…” He suddenly became a bit timid as he mumbled, “They aren’t fertile yet...But regardless I wouldn’t fill you unless we were bonded, so you won’t have to worry about impregnation. Intimacy is still an act of strengthening a bond though, so it’s utilized a lot at the beginning of an Orionian relationship.”

You weren’t fully paying attention at this point, too busy nearly drooling at the feeling of his tendon slithering along your clothes, “I can understand if you’d prefer to not do this though.” Jungkook seemed somewhat embarrassed and timid, his tendons slithering around your pajama band but doing nothing further.

“No!” He nearly jumped  at how you almost yelled it, your eyes frantic and you were nearly dripping at how horny you were, your voice needy as you whined, “I’m literally a slut Jungkook, I’m more than happy to experiment.” 

Jungkook didn’t need anymore confirmation then just that, his tentacle that had been playing with the band of your pajamas immediately pushing underneath it as you whined, your legs immediately parting for it as it ran up your panties, the soft wetness that ebbed from it soaking whatever was dry of your panties, was this arousal of his own? He moaned softly as he pressed his face into your neck, “I know you feel this is fast, but Orionian’s tend to not like to waste time.” His tentacles slid along your panties before pushing inside the band.

Your lips parted at the soft wet sensation of it gently prodding along your clit in exploration making a yelp escape you.

Jungkook jolted a little in concern as he looked down at you, somewhat shyly and his cheeks were a deep maroon much like his marks, “Keep…! Fuck!” You whined at the way his tentacles as if testingly flicked along your clit, another tentacle which had been floating behind him absently had suddenly emerged forward, making quick work of your pajamas and panties as the other continued working along your clit making you whimper as your back arched a little. 

The second tendon slowly brushed along your soaked cunt, embarrassingly wet sounds could be heard throughout the room as Jungkook moaned in contentment, “This feels so nice,” he mumbled with a whine, the second tentacle which had been stroking you slowly wiggled against your entrance making you squeak. Your horniness couldn’t be put into words at how bad you wanted this man to shove all tentacles inside you.

Your lips immediately parting at the tip of the tentacle pushing inside you, it was too soft to be considered that of a toy or dildo but too firm to be anything foreign, you couldn’t resist propping yourself up onto your elbows, your legs spread as you looked down, your face twisting and cheeks throbbing at the lewd sight of two tentacles hard at work on your cunt, one continuously flicking your clit and rubbing along it while the other began to testingly thrust inside you. 

Your lips dropped open as you moaned feeling Jungkook push it further and further inside you before giving it a testing wiggle, a scream nearly ripped from your throat at how it hit all the right spots.

Unable to even support yourself as you dropped back down with a whine as Jungkook quickly began to pick up the pace even more, “Fuck,” he moaned softly, the tentacle pulsed and throbbed as it squished and wiggled while being thrusted back and forth in short motions, your cunt was so tight and your walls kept trapping him further and further inside you as you whined, “Mm, females of my kind don’t have anything like this,” he moaned two more tentacles had suddenly appeared from his back, one pinning your wrists above your head and the other wandering to your flimsy shirt before pushing underneath it, and much to his delight Jungkook found nothing underneath except your soft breasts, “Nothing this- mmm, fuck,” it came out more of a whine this time as you felt his tentacles wiggling in delight at the way your cunt clenched around him, “small, and warm...Fuck,” Jungkook dipped his head, running a hand through his hair, the third tendon wrapped around your nipple making you whimper, jolting as your cunt squeezed around the tentacle that was beginning to roughly split apart your walls as it discovered your g-spot, your mouth parting as whined spilled from your lips at the insane feeling of the tip of his tentacles flicking up against it rapidly.

“Ah! Fuck fuck fuck, Jungkook!” You whined as your back arched, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head at how many sensations were going on, between him finding the sweet spot of your clit, the tip of his tentacle flicking up into your g-spot the other one squeezing with just the right amount of pressure on your nipple. 

Jungkook’s lips parted and his eyes were hazy but in awe at the way your body contorted, your small little walls nearly entrapping his tentacle as you came harshly, whined and whimpers escaping you as he forcefully kept flicking up into your g-spot, his other rubbing gently against your clit as your body frantically moved, yet your hips kept thrusting up to try and take more of his tendon as you whined, “Fuck…! Jungkook! Ah..!” Jungkook moaned softly as he gave you just what you wanted, pushing himself further inside you until he was dangerously close to your cervix.

His tentacle was soft enough that no pain was even involved as he kept wiggling it into you, soundless moans escaped you as your cunt began wrapping convulsing around him, your clit burning in pleasure due to sensitivity as he kept letting the soft tendon rub against the tender bud.

“Fuck!” You whined, liquid suddenly spewing from your cunt much to Jungkook’s surprise, his tentacle had immediately restricted at the feeling leaving your cunt feeling empty and tears nearly escaping yours eyes in frustration due to it despite his second tendon continually abusing your clits sweet spot, within the second the first tentacle entered your once more pushing with no hesitation right back to its original position as Jungkook began wiggling once again with short thrusts. 

Your walls kept squeezing around him causing him to moan as he whined, “You- you need to stop doing that...feels too good.” He mumbled shyly against your skin as you nearly convulsed in pleasure at the way his third tendon was wrapped around your nipple, giving the bit of pressure that had your cunt squeezing around his tentacle, too busy in your own pleasure to care about what he wanted, your hand wrapped around his throat making his eyes widen and his lips part submissively, “I’m gonna keep doing what I want baby- fuck...I think you like it when my little cunt squeezes around it.” You purposely clenched around his tentacle and you could physically feel it throb inside you.

Jungkook’s lips trembled a little a moan escaped him at your hand squeezing lightly around his throat his tentacle immediately fucking you even faster in comply as your lips parted in glee, your hips rolling a little to slide along the slick thick tendon, “Thats right baby boy, I bet you’ve never felt a cunt like this before huh?” You let out a shaky cackle as your hand sadistically squeezed harder around his neck. 

His gaze dropped and he only whined, quickly crumbling to your dominant hands that only excited you further, it was one thing to cross off your bucket list getting fucked by an alien, it was two being able to dom one, “Oh am I suddenly in control now?” You mockingly pouted before a twisted smirk curled on your face at how Jungkook wouldn’t meet your eyes any longer.

Power was practically leaking in your veins, you were getting fucked by a tentacle alien and he was a shy little sub? Your squeezed harsher around his neck, a whiney moan suddenly escaping him as his tentacle harshly pulsed inside you before it frozen, his face buried into your neck, impatient and now knowing you could boss him around freely your hips lifted, squelching and slipping around the tendon with ease as his lips trembled against your neck, “Mmm! P-please! You have to slow down…” he whimpered a little at how cruel you were being with him. 

You could care less in this moment though, too busy living out your dream fantasy bucking your hips against the soft subtle material, your cunt squeezing around him as you moaned softly.

Your moan twisted to a growl at the feeling of his tentacle pausing in your clit, your hand finding his hair as you harshly balled it into your hand, “I didn’t give you permission to stop.” Jungkook’s gaze lowered and his eyes a little watery despite the angry pout on his face.

“You aren’t listening to me.” He mumbled stubbornly and your lips twitched, outwardly showing displeasure but inwardly seeking the chase he was trying to give. Jungkook fumbled with you had pushed away, briefly his tendons pulled away in semi surprise, at first assuming you had taken his shy words the wrong way but he was quickly mistaken when he was shoved onto the bed, a whine escaping him as the tentacles quickly adjusted to be semi flattened. His lips were quivering at the sight of your naked body straddling him and your hand on his jaw, “Truthfully, I don’t think you want me to listen baby.” You pouted mockingly, the feeling of his stretched tentacles seekingly wrapping around your thighs, “Open.” 

Jungkook’s lips parted a little, his eyes watering and looking a little confused at your words, but you had took advantage of the opportunity, spitting into his mouth as he suddenly whined, his ears bright red following along with the magenta color coursing through his body as your hand wrapped around his throat in a firm grip, “Good boy.” You smiled loosely, wiping a stray bit of saliva from his lip as he whined, a tentacle beginning to stroke against your soaked cunt once more but this time he did nothing except in hopes of an invitation.

“Such a good boy, go on, I know you want to.” You cooed out, your head hanging a little and your lips parting at the feeling of the tentacle plunging back inside your warm walls with a loud squelch, “Stay still.” You commanded sharply and with a noisy whine from Jungkook as he obediently listened, you could feel the foreign tendon inside you pulsing still as if it nearly killed him to do so. Your hips steadily began to move along the tentacle, your cunt clenching around it as you took more of him it only got fatter and thicker the more you took. 

“Ahh, fuck. That’s it baby, c’mon keep filling me up. I know you want to. I can see it in your face.” You taunted, feeling his tentacle doing a test wiggle inside you as you slid along it, arousal coating him as he whined, you had a great view of his other tentacles sliding from under his back and extending upward, the second quickly made way for your clit much to your excitement, your lips parted and a whine escaping you as it kept rubbing into your sweet spot it had previously discovered. 

You were too busy trembling and moaning, attempting to fight off another orgasm at the feeling of your clit almost feeling like it was being ate out at how soft the tip of his tentacle was gently lapping against it and a soft wet arousal of his own leaking from the tip, you had bounced against his tendon in short motions, craving all of him inside you as your body began to convulse, your hands balling against his chest with a whine at how difficult it was to stop yourself from cumming immediately.

Jungkook wasn’t letting go without a fight though, a third tentacle had surprised you, pushing between the cheeks of your ass making you nearly gasp a whine, “Fuck! Fuck, please.” You mumbled in a moment of weakness, giving your consent that you’d like to trust he’d be able to make this feel good. Jungkook didn’t hesitate for a second, the tentacle oozed a slippery liquid, his own arousal along your puckered rim. You were almost too fucked out to even pay attention, your body busy still riding him and trying to focus on anything but the feeling of the slippery tentacle flicking at your clit and finding nearly every pleasurable nerve physically possible. 

It was difficult to miss the third one pushing slowly into your ass as your lips jumbled something nearly incomprehensible, your body collapsing semi against him, only being held up by your weak forearms, “Mmph! Fuck baby keep going, just like that. Such a good boy for me.” 

Jungkook squeaked out what sounded like a pleasant noise at the praise, perhaps sensing your body beginning to crumble as his tentacles took back over, quickly thrusting inside you once more and wiggling to his heart's pleasure as drool nearly dropped from your lips. Unable to even do anything or say anything with two tentacles plunged inside you. 

The tip of the tentacle was just narrow enough to slip inside your ass with a gentle sting but pleasurable enough to make your toes curl and whines escape you at the feeling of the force of his thrusts on either side of your body. His second was still lapping up around your clit, finding that perfect spot that nearly made your vision go white and you weren’t sure what escaped your throat other than possibly the best orgasm you would ever experience in your life. 

And it didn’t stop after a second, it just kept going with his tentacles drilling inside you and lapping around your delicate hyper sensitive clit as you whined and cried against him. Jungkook moaned softly as you felt what potentially might have been a second tentacle greedily pushing inside your cunt, whimpers escaping you at how harshly he was thrusting up inside you and how stretched your body was. 

Your mouth parting at the feeling of the forth tentacle pushing its way to meet the first as you squeaked and whined against him, a tentacle wrapping around your waist to hold up your lower body that nearly collapsed as your vision blurred with tears at how hard you were being fucked. Jungkook’s eyes were shut tightly and his hands had finally grabbed your waist as extra support as his third tentacle wiggled its way further into your ass. The pleasurable sting becoming more and more noticeable as you cried out at the feeling of one tentacle flicking up against your g-spot and the other harshly thrusting into you while your clit was hypersensitive at the feeling of being rubbed and flicked. 

Your last orgasm couldn’t even compete with this one as you cried out, body convulsing and cunt tightening as you nearly scrambled almost looking possessed to the unknown eye, your body had clenched up so hard at being so filled you hadn’t even heard the sharp whine from Jungkook. Hot liquid suddenly spurted everywhere the majority of it inside you but some getting on you, over the bed, everywhere. 

Jungkook whimpered and whined, digging his face into your neck and his tentacles were pulsing sharply as if literally pumping out every drop of liquid they could inside you. You were so fucked out you could hardly even ask what in the actual hell he just injected inside you. You had already been tired before but your body was burning and aching, feeling as if you had literally been ripped to pieces. 

At least you finally got a piece of that tentacle action.

You were not someone that fucked and then immediately slept afterwards, typically after a one night stand, depending on your relation with the person you would either ghost them by pretending to go to the bathroom, talk and hang out afterwards, or go get something to eat together, or by yourself, you weren’t picky.

Rubbing your blurry eyes you yawned, your body aching with even the slightest movement, Jungkook was the first man who had ever fucked you so hard, you had little to no choice but to fall asleep afterwards, you probably couldn’t even stand if you wanted too. He was curled up against your chest at the moment, his head pressed into your breasts looking way too content at the moment. 

Your eyes trailed down at his fluffy raven hair before down the warm tawny skin of his back, something in your chest stirring, it felt like it was almost physically tugging you closer to his body, your hand finding its way to his hair making him stir a little. Jungkook’s arms wiggled against your waist to make himself comfortable once more before relaxed with a content sigh. 

The marks on his back glowed a sentient purple, you had never gotten a good look at his back before. 

And while this wasn’t that great of a position to view, you were still curious with what you could see, they formed two long strips down his back widening a fair bit and they stopped just at the smallest part of his waist. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve remarked that it looked like he had wings ripped from his back.

As morbid as it sounded, and that is of course if they glowed like this. Jungkook really was the prettiest thing you had ever seen, your hand hadn’t even meant to pull from his hair down his neck, you couldn’t help the tug in your chest wanting to touch.

However the moment your fingers grazed over the mark that covered his left shoulder blade Jungkook nearly flew out of your arms making you jolt in just as much surprise as him, his lips parted and he had sat up, gaze sharp as he looked around as if for any possible intruders. Slowly as he woke up though he came to the realization it was just you and him, your smile becoming somewhat sheepish as you mumbled, “Um, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You cleared your throat feeling bad now, was it just that sensitive? You might not know much about Orionian’s but you could take a guess and assume that was the opening to where his tentacles laid dormant, and given they were also how they procreated...It was natural Jungkook was probably a little defensive about them being touched. 

Jungkook said nothing though, only staring at you for a long moment before he whined a little, suddenly crawling back up to you before collapsing on top of you as you huffed, “You can’t startle me like that, my scaling is sensitive.” He mumbled a little shy, grabbing your hand as he placed it back on top of his head obviously wanting affection. 

Your fingers dug back into his scalp making a pleasant noise escape him as his body relaxed once more, “...Scaling?” Your brows furrowed at his words, complying with his silent demand to have his hair played with as he curled up against you, his lips tugged into a smile as he rested his face between your breast. 

“Yeah, my scales.” Jungkook nodded as he held up his arm, pointing at the glowing marks making you frown, that...looked nothing like scales....Jungkook smiled a little as he rested back down while explaining, “There filled with hyper plasma so depending on the hormonal chemistry of my body will change colors.” You got that part, even before he could speak English, but still...when you thought of scales, you thought of stuff like fish and...scaly things. Not aliens. 

Jungkook only smiled happily as he looked up at you, it looked like thousands of stars twinkling in his eyes and the dim lights reflected off his iridescent skin, little tones of purple and blue could be spotted as he lifted his hand up to cup your cheek, his fingers carefully trailing down your jawline. There was a wave in your chest, something strong like...the only thing you could describe was pure happiness, “Hey what did you blow inside?” You hadn’t even meant to ask that question but it had abruptly crossed your mind. 

Jungkook’s gaze faltered a little, his scales suddenly turning bright pink and his bashfully lowered his gaze, pressing his cheek on your chest as he mumbled, “It was just plasma, it’s what helps carry eggs when they’re released but...I already told you...my eggs aren’t ready yet. You have no possible chance of getting pregnant without my prior knowledge.” 

His fingers tethered against your stomach as if saddened at the idea that his future kin weren’t in your stomach, a wave of sadness fleeting inside your chest briefly as you frowned, why did you feel so odd? You weren’t even the least bit sad about not being pregnant. 

“Okay...good I was just..wondering since…” You coughed a little, not finishing your sentence which you were originally going to say because he used you like an actual cum dump- not that you minded. But still. It was good to know. Jungkook said no more, only burying into your chest with a pouty whine. 

Yawning you stretched out looking around before grabbing your phone which had somehow made it alive on your night stand, your notifications flooded with Jimin’s drunk texting on where you went last night and why you weren’t home...Wait, your eyes darted to the time, it was noon?! You had a lecture in half an hour! 

“Fuck! I have to get to class!” You immediately jolted up making Jungkook whine as he was jostled onto the bed as you limped along in search of your clothes, your body aching and resisting with each fumble before you nearly collapsed out of fatigue while grabbing your panties. 

“Can’t you just stay? Just for a little longer?” Jungkook mumbled, his lips in a large puppy like pout as he held out his hand to you, something stirring in your chest that wanted to just curl back up against him, his eyes doe like and soft, almost pleading for you to cuddle back up against him. 

“I have midterms coming up Jungkook, I really can’t afford to skip class.” You offered an apologetic smile, “Besides it’s not like we can’t go get something to eat later or anything.” Pulling your pants up you wobbled to the door, frowning as you pulled your sweatshirt back over your head, where was the door handle…?

“..B-but!” Jungkook fumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head before hurrying over to you, “Just five more minutes? Or two? Please…!” There was something urgent in his voice as his lips trembled as if he would be devastated if you left. 

Examining the door your lips parted as you pushed the button on the wall, jolting a little as the door slid open, “Jungkook,” You paused briefly, feeling a dull ache in your chest, a brief desire to do as pleaded as you looked up at him, “I really have to go to class okay? I’ll drop by later when I’m finished for the day I’m sure you...have stuff you need to talk about with your...um...kin…” You raised your brow a little awkwardly before you back walking down the hallway, something inside the back of your head almost tempted to stay with him. 

He looked so panicked and whiny, it made you feel bad for having to go, and furthermore you secretly wished you could stay longer but you couldn’t afford to miss class with midterms so close. 

If your memory was correct this should lead to…! Aha, you felt victorious at the sight of the main, living area?  The circular table was towards the smaller three step ledge that went up into the control room and the purple bonsai-like plant which had just been freshly pruned sat delicately on the other side of the room. 

“No! I....Can I come with you then? And then we can come back here together later?” Jungkook pleaded, his lips trembling and his eyes almost watery as you paused with a sigh, he was really tugging on your heart strings huh...It was almost easier to deny him back when he was unable to actually speak his wants to you. 

“Jungkook I- I mean I guess you could…? But like, it’s just lecture, it’s boring, I have to be focused the whole time and no offense but...I feel like if you came I wouldn’t focus.” You pulled a little away from him with an awkward smile while silently hoping the door had been fixed. 

“Morning you two,” You turned around at the sight of Namjoon appearing from the large opening of the control room Taehyung who still looked sour following after him only to lean against the wall with crossed arms, Namjoon stepped down the three steps as he offered a polite smile, “I hope you slept well, I’m sure it’s a lot different compared to human dorms.” 

You looked away from Namjoon unable to speak at the question of having slept well, you hardly slept half the night after getting your back blown out, but he was right, it was nothing like human- in any aspect whatsoever, whether it was the bed or who you got fucked by last night. 

“It was fine...um the door....Is it fixed?” You pointed your thumb behind your shoulder as you offered a weak smile. 

Namjoon nodded stepping closer before he abruptly paused, his brows furrowing before he looked between you and Jungkook without so much as a word, it made you somewhat self conscious as you shuffled in your spot at nobody volunteering to get the door open, “Yeah, it’s fixed, umm…” His smile was a little tense before he looked between you and Jungkook, “Are you both going out? Already?” 

Jungkook refused to look his elder in the eyes, his lips plush and pouty, hair dusting over his eyes as he shuffled in his spot refusing to answer whatever unasked question his elder had, “Uh yeah, I’m going to class, Jungkook can stay here though, I’ll be back later.” You shrugged, not understanding what their problem was. 

Taehyung had not interjected into the conversation yet, his dark hair brushing over his eyes only in the opposite effect of Jungkook, making him look as if he had a death warrant with your name on it, “And leave Jungkook alone?” He gritted his teeth looking like he was ready to snarl at you, your lips quirked a little and your brow lifted in confusion, wasn’t that typically what people meant when they said they had to leave…? 

“Uh yeah, and I’ll come back…?” You trailed off, making it sound more like a question then a statement before Taehyung suddenly pushed off the wall, his walk was by no means in any hurry, but his shoulders were squared and his steps were paced with determination that had you taking a step back at the sight of him not stopping until he was right in front of you. 

The energy of the room had gone tense before Taehyung snarled, “You bonded with my little brother and now you’re going to leave him!?” 

You shrieked at suddenly being shoved against the wall, your ribs throbbing in pain as Taehyung’s hand wrapped around your throat, crushing your windpipe as you gagged, “Humans really are pathetic selfish people.” Tentacles suddenly wrapped around Taehyung’s hand before he was ripped away from you, hot red scales were a blur as Jungkook stood in front of you protectively. 

Your hands rubbing your sore throat as you leaned against the wall gasping for air, “Stay out of this!” Jungkook growled, his lips twitching and his eyes burning into his brothers, “This doesn’t involve you, let me sort it out and if you ever fucking touch my mate like that again I won’t hesitate to rip your eggs straight out of your utaria.” 

You jolted at the sight of Taehyung lashing out at Jungkook, both of them slamming into the wall near the hallway as they grappled and yet you could only stare in shock at what had just happened and what you had just heard. Namjoon was immediately between them both separating the two as he growled, “Taehyung that wasn’t necessary! I doubt she even realizes what happened!” Namjoon immediately twisted towards Jungkook with a scowl, “And you! What did I tell you last night?” 

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched, his scales a hot burning red that matched Taehyung’s and yet his eyes couldn’t meet Namjoon’s, his lips twitching a little as he glared into the wall, his expression slowly melting as Namjoon snapped, “What did I tell you!? Why can’t you two ever listen for once? If you had we probably wouldn’t even be stuck on Earth right now! This is your mess Jungkook, I told you it wasn’t a good idea to bond this early on in our stay on Earth.” 

Jungkook’s expression had turned neutral but something in his eyes still seemed bitter as he stared at the ground now, perhaps too scared to look up at you, who had backed away from all the men in shock. You...but...Jungkook said…The silence set in and slowly each brother turned their gaze towards you before Jungkook was the last, his face filled with remorse at your expression as your lips parted, “You…! You told me-” Your lips parted variously before you finally forced out a sentence, “You lied to me!” 

“I didn’t!” Jungkook immediately hurried over to you, his expression filled with guilt and desperation, “I- Y/n I wasn’t even aware we had bonded until Taehyung pointed it out! I’m sorry I had no idea I…!” All you heard was excuse after excuse though, something indescribable filled your chest and your vision blurred in anger. 

“I’m going! I can’t…! I can’t even look at you right now Jungkook!” Upset felt like it had magnified tenfold in your chest as you rushed down the metal stairs, punching against the button before the door opened, your throat felt squeezed and like you were suffocating as you ran as far and fast as your legs could take you. What was happening to you? 

“I’m fine…” 

Jimin and Seokjin exchanged glances, light poured in from the opened door behind them of your bedroom, the blanket wrapped around your body has you held it up above your nose, “Uh don’t lie bitch,” Jimin quirked a brow, his lips twitching in anger at just the sight of you trying to tell such an obvious lie, “It’s been three days since...whatever happened with JK- “Jungkook,” “I don’t give a fuck what his name is, you’ve been a recluse ever since, what happened?” 

Just the mention of Jungkook’s name made your chest physically ache as you curled further into yourself, you weren’t in physical pain, you couldn’t even fully describe it. 

All of your feelings just felt so amplified, like they swirled at just the surface of your chest and ready to burst out at any given moment. It felt like a physical string around your heart that squeezed and tugged harder and harder that left you in a depressed state with no energy left to do anything except what you had been doing.

Weakly sleeping half the time or scrolling on your phone in a useless attempt to think about anything other than Jungkook. You couldn’t even understand how you felt so attached to him and how much your body ached to just be wrapped up in his arms, but you were still so upset at what had happened. 

Questions swirled in your mind and to which you didn’t have the answer too and it made you even more upset that you wouldn’t get answers unless you went back, “Y/n, we’re just worried.” Seokjin raised his brows, his expression apprehensive but softened at the weak state you were in, “You haven’t been out of your room ever since the morning after the party. Midterms are just around the corner, I doubt you slack off for a shit reason.” 

You only curled up further before you sighed, closing your eyes as you finally caved in and mumbled an explanation as to what had happened and what you were now suffering under. Seokjin seemed more calm but Jimin’s lips were twitching in anger as he scowled, “You’re joking! Well let’s just go and demand he cut whatever alien ties he has on you.” 

You knew he was just trying to help but you only shook your head, “...Taehyung said I was the one that had apparently formed the bond, I didn’t even know that was possible.” You mumbled, you buried into your pillow, a feeling of guilt building into your chest as you tried to forget the ghost image of Jungkook’s hurt eyes in your mind. 

“Well it’s obviously affecting you mentally and physically, I mean seriously, you haven’t showered in days, you aren’t eating, Y/n…” Seokjin kneeled down, a frown on his face, “You need to swallow your pride, as stubborn as you are, and go talk to Jungkook about this. We’ll come with you, you probably won’t even have the energy to get there, but he’s the only one who can help.”

You managed to roll over to your side, your back facing them both now as you pulled the blanket over your head, you didn’t want to face Jungkook again, you weren’t sure you were ready to. You had so many mixed feelings and you weren’t even sure what to begin on asking questions. 

Neither said anymore before you heard Seokjin reluctantly sigh, “I’ll leave it for tonight, but tomorrow morning you’re giving us directions and we’re going to get this sorted.” They both left shortly after and closed the door sinking the room back into a depth of darkness. A heavy weight back on your chest and sudden ache filling you as you curled up, a dull sense of urgency inside you but you couldn’t distinguish what for. It felt like you needed to cry even despite not feeling sad, but maybe as a way to just release this energy.

But you didn’t do anything besides lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling as you sighed, trying to ignore the dull ache of your head, what a shit show. If you had known what your life would come to by just trying to be a good person, you would’ve left him in that ditch. ----

It felt like your body was being dragged through the mud, through the fire and hell maybe even gitting shit on at this point, “This is so stupid.” You mumbled, curled up in your hoodie as you hugged your knees into your chest in the back of Seokjin’s car. 

“You’re the one that fucked an alien,” Jimin snorted, twisting in his seat as he cocked a brow, “Which, what possessed you to do that seriously? Your stupid little hentai fantasies?” He stared at you with a bizarre expression as you snorted weakly. 

“Yeah pretty much.” 

“Fucking knew it,” Jimin collapsed back in his seat, “We could get our assholes probed by aliens now because she couldn’t keep her panties on at the sight of a slimy tentacle.” He raised his hands dramatically and you could’ve sworn you heard Seokjin try to keep from laughing at you both. 

“They’ll probe you with their tentacles too, apparently they make their own lube home made so they’ll slide it right in no problem.” If you had the energy you would’ve died laughing at the way Jimin whipped around in his seat in horror. 

“No fucking way. You WILLINGLY let him do that to you?” 

You couldn’t stop the weak laugh escaping you as you leaned your head against the window, “I’m a slut.” You shrugged before you lifted your head a little, “Right there! It should be in the field. I think it has some sort of cloaking shield or something.” Seokjin pulled off on the old winding back road which looked familiar enough.

He hadn’t been going fast to begin with and you had already stopped twice and the two other fields had been empty so this one had to be it, and if it wasn’t then it was safe to say you broken Jungkook’s heart right in two and he and his other space fuckboy brothers left Earth for good. Which you hoped not because you felt like you were in a weird limbo between life and death at the moment. 

Stepping out of the car you paused as you heaved a breath, leaning against the car as you sighed, the energy feeling like it had been sucked straight out of your soul every passing minute. Jimin looked at you mildly concerned as you waved him off, slowly pushing yourself straight up as you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

The comforts of your hoodie keep you warm as you ignore the dull ache in your chest, Seokjin and Jimin both kept close as you all looked like idiots wandering around in an empty field. The empty field however, upon stepping forward had suddenly blurred before the familiar sight of the ship came into view. Seokjin and Jimin were dumbfounded at the sight as they both stared. 

You only trudged forward towards the door before you slammed your hand against the metal door, “Well? What are you both doing just standing there?” You asked with a furrowed brow.

“Well sorry I didn’t fuck an alien the first chance I got.” Jimin fumbled out with a huff as he hurried over along with Seokjin. 

The door had immediately been opened to a relieved looking Namjoon, his eyes briefly landing on Jimin and Seokjin warily as he spoke, “I’m glad you came back! Come on, hurry in.” He ushered you in, “...I’m assuming these are your...friends…?” 

“Best friends, roommates, the same guys that also allowed your little space fuckboy to stay with us.” Jimin growled out as he crossed his arms, standing as a big brother you never asked for as Seokjin snorted. 

“Chill,” He shoved Jimin a little who only grumbled under his breath before he spoke, “I’m Seokjin and that’s Jimin, we’re Y/n’s roommates we’re already uh...aware of what you guys are we just...we don’t know what’s going on, we just want Y/n to be okay.” 

Namjoon nodded slowly, still a little wary but it was to be expected, he said no more as he widened the latch for the three of you, “Y/n left right at the beginning stage of their bond when it’s imperative that the newly bonded couple stay together and establish a stable connection. If not, it becomes unstable and drains the life force out of both individuals causing a wide variety of ailments and illnesses to take over. It’s good you guys came back when you did, Jungkook is doing even worse sense he was the Si in the bond.” 

“What is she doing back here?” Your lips twitched a little at the snarl from Taehyung who had shot up from his seat at the table, his eyes glaring holes into you and honestly, if he could vaperize you into dust at the moment you were sure he probably would. 

“Here to break the little probe ass connection your fuckboy put on her,” Jimin snapped back unappreciative at someone talking this way to you especially in the condition you were in right now.

Taehyung’s lip twitched as he shot out of his seat, “My little brother may be naive but he had good intentions and she took advantage of his fragile state! He wasn’t in any sort of headspace to do anything!” You only curled away from Taehyung with mixed feelings, you wouldn’t necessarily describe Jungkook’s state of mind at the time, fragile as it was just horny. 

Namjoon sighed as he looked at Seokjin before at you and then the two feuding men who were practically glaring into one another, “Taehyung, don’t do anything irrational, I’m going to get Jungkook.” Namjoon disappeared and it was quiet inside the ship as a tension took over the room. 

You tried your best to ignore it as you slumped against the wall, listening to the whirling on the interior running. Not a minute later you heard a loud flutter of steps as you looked up, Jungkook’s hair had been ruffled and he had looked extraordinarily tired, his scales however were lit up a sky blue, his lips parted as if trying to figure out if you were real or not before he hurried to you. 

His arms wrapping around you and a small whimper escaping him as his nose rubbed into your neck, your face pressed into his chest with a sigh of relief, the dull ache in your chest fading quickly as you basked in the warmth of Jungkook’s arms. You had hugged many people in your life before and sure it was nice, but you couldn’t even describe the wash of comfort and love that radiated through your entire being at being curled up in this man’s arms. 

Jungkook’s nose nudged at your neck a little and buried himself into your embrace as his fingers fiddled with the thick material of your hoodie, “Jungkook,” Jungkook shuffled a little, his body practically wrapped around you as his eyes slowly looked up from his content figure to meet Namjoon’s gaze, “You both should go lay down and begin to properly set your bond together, I’m sure you’re both exhausted.” 

Jungkook nodded wordlessly, perhaps not trusting himself to speak as he began to lead you towards his pod, “Woah, wait hold on.” Jimin cut in only for a snarl like growl to escape Jungkook, tentacles suddenly shooting from his back protectively pulling towards the front of his body to create a barrier between you and any threat that might take you away from him. 

“Woah holy fuck!” Jimin nearly screeched, holding his hands up and freaking out a little at seeing a killer glare on such an innocent face, “We didn’t come here for this…! What, what do you mean, set a bond? I don’t want Y/n out of our sight…!” 

Jungkook’s lip twitched in annoyance as he set his chin on your shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist and you could see the red glow of his scales slowly deepening further into a dark maroon, he did not look happy. 

Namjoon put up a hand, offering a tense smile, “All that entails is them being together and being close, they need to stabilize their bond. Once it’s set they can figure out whether they want to...bond further or…” Namjoon didn’t finish his sentence, is eyes warily lingering on the younger’s expression which was sharp and annoyed, “...You get the idea, I would advise against stopping him, trying to separate them now when he just got her back….I can’t guarantee I’ll keep you both alive.” 

Jimin and Seokjin shared a wary glance before stepping aside, Jungkook’s gaze broody as he watched them sharply as he trudged you both forward, his tentacles still out and floating behind him now as if ready to strike on contact. The tension didn’t leave until you were back into his pod once more, the room having not been changed except for a lot more clutter accumulation- much like your own room. 

You hadn’t even had the chance to open your mouth before you were suddenly picking up, your legs wrapping around Jungkook as you squirmed, “Jungkook!” You squeaked out, his hands gripping your ass tightly but his face kept nudging into your neck as he whined,  the killer aura he had not seconds ago immediately disappearing, “Don’t ever do that again,” You were nearly crushed when you were dropped onto the bed before Jungkook collapsed on top of you, “Please.” Guilt nearly devoured your heart at the way Jungkook held back a sob, his voice pleading and cracked, “It’s not fair! You-! You can’t just do this to me then leave. Never again.” You felt warm substance dripping onto your skin and your heart was pounding in your chest. 

An innate need coursing through your veins to dry his tears as you did so, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry okay?” You whispered out, your hands cupping his cheeks, that iridescent glow on his skin and his eyes watery and big, “I’m just…! I was just scared, I didn’t know what was going on and I just thought I needed time to think. I had no idea what the effects were and what would happen if I left. I’m not going to leave okay? I won’t leave.” 

Jungkook only closed his eyes, tears falling down his cheeks and you couldn’t help but watch in a melancholy awe at an almost glittery substance filling his tears, making the stains on his skin glisten and glitter under the dark lights of his room, Jungkook said no more, perhaps not trusting himself too and only curled himself further against your as your hands soothingly ran through his hair as his body melted into yours. No words were further spoken between you both as you curled against him once more, your nose burying in his hair with the innate need to comfort him. 

Feelings were too intense and magnified, as if you could feel every speck of hurt and misery Jungkook had suffered without you and despite being cognitively aware you in any other case wouldn’t be like this, you still were. You didn’t understand what happened, or how it happened, but what you did know was that despite all of the uncertainty, Jungkook needed you. 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, neither of you had talked for what seemed like hours, only staying close in one another's arms, and slow but surely, that unstable feeling in your chest was beginning to fade and was replaced by what you could only describe as a warm, bright thrum.

Both of you were awake, but Jungkook’s eyes looked far away, his face still laid against your chest as you tenderly stroked through his hair, “Jungkook,” He didn’t respond right away, shifting a little before those doe eyes looked up at you, his lips jutted into a soft pout that nearly broke your heart out of guilt, “What....what’s going on? I don’t understand anything.” Your fingers delicately traced his prominent cheekbones, his face immediately nuzzling into your hand as his eyes closed. 

Jungkook’s lips trembled only a little as he mumbled, “...I...I’m not sure...I told you before that in order for a bond to be created it has to be wanted between both parties involved,” His nose nudged your hand as you tenderly thumbed his cheek, “Wh-which means...even if it wasn’t a surface thought you still energetically reached out and initiated the bond making you the Fi and me the Si since I accepted without realizing.” 

His lips went pouty before he pressed his head back against your chest as you stared down at him mildly confused, perhaps realizing this he spoke further, “Fi and Si are considered sacred opposites, in a bond both people take on one or the other, the initiator the Fi and the receiver the Si, it makes sense you didn’t feel as much as I did, the Fi in the bond isn’t affected nearly as heavily as the Si is because you were the one who created the bond.”

You still didn’t quite understand other than this being a Yin and Yang equivalent with a dash of omegaverse on the side, but then again, if humans had descended from Orionian’s then the apple truly didn’t fall too far from the tree. 

“And...the Fi is what…? The more dominant one?” You quirked a brow, a smile threatening to tug on your lips as Jungkook looked up at you, an unfair pout of his face as he set his chin on your chest, leading you to believe there was some merit to your words. 

“Not exactly, it just means you were the one who established the bond, making you the one who, in more primal words, the caretaker. With newly bonded couples, it’s imperative that you be together for the first few days to stabilize the bond. Si tends to be more....” He shifted a little, his scales becoming pink as he buried into your chest, “...Clingy...and Fi tends to facilitate and care for Si while the bond stabilizes.”

Your hand made its way back to his hair as you tenderly combed through the soft silky locks as Jungkook’s relaxed back against you, practically melting into your touch as you hummed, “And...if it isn’t stabilized?” 

Jungkook shifted a little against you as he mumbled, “...Well, both people become....I don’t know how to truly describe, if a bond isn’t stabilized...it becomes difficult to distinguish your own feelings from your partners, and with the bond unstable it causes an emptiness to fill both which causes sadness and pain, but because feelings can be mutually felt, it magnifies those feelings tenfold...Until eventually….” Jungkook frowned as he shrugged a little timidly, “Both go insane, or end up commiting suicide out of despair. Si feels it a lot more intensely then Fi though because of being the one who was tethered into the bond rather than creating it.”

Oh…

You said nothing, feeling even worse now knowing what had happened and what you could have possibly caused, not only this but for Jungkook to suffer through so much all because you couldn’t just hear him out for less than five minutes, “Don’t blame yourself,” Jungkook sat up a little to look at you earnestly, as if knowing exactly what you felt despite not saying anything, “You don’t know anything about Orionian’s, I...I should’ve handled everything better then I did…” His gaze lowered looking a little glassy as he sighed, “Just...please never do that again.” He collapsed back against you with a quiet mumble, “I was miserable.” 

“I won’t baby.” You ushered softly, pressing your lips into his hair as he basked in your love, the silence taking over once more as you relaxed back down against him, intending on letting yourself fall asleep again before you felt a low rumble in your stomach, before you sighed...Well he did say since you were….Fi...that you were supposed to be a caretaker....?

“Hey, I’m starving...you want me to get us something to eat?” You sat up a little as Jungkook shifted beneath you with a whine, his cheeks puffing a little as he huffed, saying nothing but you had a suspicion that he was definitely hungry, “I’m getting us something to eat, what do you want babe?” You got out of bed making Jungkook scramble with another whine. 

He immediately latched himself to you as you sighed, “Then we’re going together. Do you guys even have human food here?” 

“We have plamatic barrettes.” Jungkook perked a little in excitement as you frowned. 

“Can...Are...are they edible for humans?” You raised a brow as you opened the door, doing an awkward waddle as Jungkook back hugged you, happily nuzzling into your neck before he frowned.

“Well...um…” He rubbed his head as you tutted, it wasn’t that you weren’t willing to try it but you were really craving some fries right now and whatever it was they ate, didn’t sound even close to a potato. 

“We can try it later babe, I brought my wallet so we can go get something to eat, if Jimin and Seokjin haven’t left it’ll be like a two minute drive.” You shrugged as you both entered the common space. 

“You both aren’t going anywhere.” Namjoon had been running around with Taehyung while Jimin and Seokjin were working frantically on...what looked like an engine box as the man turned around with a serious expression making you and Jungkook twist into concern, “The Arbitrators are here on Earth, which means we’re leaving.” 

You didn’t quite understand the gravity of the situation but...you had a feeling this wasn’t an ideal situation.

[obeiii-mee]

Can I angst for Mammon where he is in a really bad mood and his brothers are at it again calling him names. And already ask them kindly to leave him alone but they keep at it. And Levi says something and it's the last straw. The air around them get cold for a moment as he slowly looks up and he flat out threatens them to shut up before he puts them back into there place with a really dark and threatening voice, before leaving. And the look could rival Satan's or even Lucifers glare.

I think Mammon takes the abuse of his brothers but sometimes he isn't in the mood and want a little peace and it is very very rare for him to get pissed

Like he's the kind of person who would yell when he's upset but when he's down right pissed it's like really fucking scary

People forget that as much as he lets his brothers push him around he is still the second oldest and is powerful so 😬

Brothers+ undateables reaction

Mammon snaps:

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This is something I’ve mentioned in previous posts, but I basically second everything you said. I believe that Mammon dislikes getting into confrontations but isn’t by any means weak or stupid. He is the second eldest. However he is also, arguably, the one with the most self control out of them all. He has an overwhelming amount of patience when it comes to his siblings and I like to think he puts up with all of their insults because he loves them. Then again, it’s very possible for him to go berserk after years worth of build up.

Thanks for the request!!! I had a bit of trouble at first because I didn’t know how I was going to format it but I like the way it turned out so I hope you do too. Uhh also I reached my word limit writing this so I couldn’t include Simon, Luke and Solomon. I do plan on writing for them as well but at this point I’m just trying to get this done. Let me know if I made any grammatical errors! I double check my writing all the time but sometimes mistakes got over my head! The undateables are short because honestly I view the brothers as the ones who will suffer the most out of everyone. I hope you enjoy reading it anyway!!

•Characters: Lucifer, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphagour, Diavolo, Barbatos.

⚠️Warnings: Cursing, mentions of blood & gore and that’s about it.

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For the past few months, Lord Diavolo’s pleasure of hosting parties and inviting people over had become more and more noticeable. It was pretty obvious that the Prince was lonely, isolating himself from others due to the responsibilities he has as the heir to the throne and a leader in the making. Attending his gatherings seemed like a down right chore for most of the brothers but you never had any problem tagging along. Besides, it felt nice knowing he seemed you worthy of coming to such important meetings. Your seven demons were, of course, also invited and per Lucifer’s orders, they all got cleaned up and dressed in fancy clothing to impress the regals prancing about the castle. Though the outfits themselves came with their own set of problems. Levi’s was way too tight; the collar seemed to annoy him more than anything else, judging by the patches of red skin on his neck. Satan accidentally ripped one of the buttons from his jacket off in a fit of rage earlier that day and was now silently fuming while poking his finger through the hole he made. Even Asmo spilled some water on his shirt before they arrived, ruining his pretty pink suit! Not to mention Beel was munching on his tie, having last eaten about 15 minutes beforehand. Lucifer pulled it out of his mouth and scowled at the saliva stains that were left behind. Safe to say they were all in a miserable mood to begin with.

“I expect all of you to behave in a respectable manner,” Lucifer flicked Belphie on the back of the head just as he began dozing off, making the youngest growl at him. He shot Mammon an irritated look “I’m especially talking to you Mammon. Don’t try to steal anything or I’ll cut your hands off.”

“I told ya big bro, ya don’t have to worry about me! I’ll be a golden child today! Promise!” Mammon held up his pinky as if he was committing to some kind of oath. The eldest darkened his glare and opened his mouth to say something else, but you interrupted in hopes of avoiding any bickering that might’ve followed.

“Look, there’s our table! Let’s go sit down. Lord Diavolo’s speech is going to start any minute now.”

Beel leaped at the table as soon as he sniffed out the appetisers, which were neatly arranged on the expensive tablecloth, shoving at least half of them in his mouth by the time the rest of you caught up with him. Having been seated, you quickly glanced around the room in hopes of spotting Diavolo. You bumped into Solomon and the angels before entering the castle, chit chatting with them for a while about the event. Even now, Luke was excitedly waving at you from across the room, using both of his arms. However, Lord Diavolo and Barbatos were the ones in charge of this party and you were yet to see either of them.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mammon eyeing the golden utensils laid out in front of him. Not the biggest of surprises really. Anytime Mammon sees something along the lines of gold, he can’t help but snatch it away. And there’s obviously so many valuables scattered all over the place, including the silverware that was proudly presented on every table. You sucked in a breath of anticipation when he reached for one of the spoons, only to exhale in relief when he placed it on the bridge of his nose, trying to balance it.

“MC, look at this!” He tapped your shoulder, as always wanting your full and undivided attention as he demonstrated his newfound skill. You giggled at his antics with fondness as he accidentally let the spoon drop with a clatter and a quiet ‘shit’ coming from him. Lucifer pulled on his ear, like a mother scolding her child and whisper-yelled at him to stop acting like an idiot. The only reason the oldest chose a sit right next to Mammon was to maintain order and peace. Basically, he did it for disciplinary reasons.

“I understand that being impertinent is your full-time job, Mammon but keep this up and I’ll throw you in Cerberus’ room. Let him do with you as he pleases.”

“Lucifer, it’s not a big deal-“

“Yeah, OK,” Mammon hissed, picking up the spoon from the recently polished floor with a slight grin that didn’t quiet reach his eyes “I gotcha. Can-“

“Speaking of Cerberus,” Levi suddenly piped in, no longer fussing about his collar or nervously twiddling with his thumbs because of the massive crowd of demons surrounding him “Didn’t you force me to walk him last week when it was your turn to do it?? I only agreed because you promised to buy me the newest Ruri-Chan limited edition body pillow that came out last Tuesday! And you never did! And now they’re out of stock, you scummy piece of-“

The third eldest would’ve leapt across the table and aimed for the throat if you hadn’t pressed a gentle hand against his chest, making him sit back down with a huff. People were starting to stare at the commotion coming from your table, turning heads and muttering between themselves. You were slowly dying from embarrassment by the way, since you guys definitely became the topic of conversation for the other guests. The brothers were being too noisy to even notice and Lucifer himself was too preoccupied to see the scene they were creating which made you further slouch down into your chair, silently hoping for the ground to swallow you whole. The night really wasn’t going as intended. You could hear Solomon laughing at the brothers’ antics from three tables down.

“I guess that’s Mammon for you,” Belphie yawned, barely raising his head from table “He lies everyday, all day. What exactly is new here? And that says something since it’s coming from me.”

“I apologised for that!” Mammon whined, referring to Levi’s accusation and choosing not to address Belphie’s insult “I was gonna buy it but then I realised I spent all my money earlier that week anyway so I couldn’t!”

“Perhaps that wouldn’t happen if you learned how to save the money you earn properly,” Satan muttered, sipping from his glass of whatever beverage he had snatched from the servants earlier “Not like you know how to earn money in any way besides stealing it.”

You watch as Mammon clenched his fist “Can we please just move on-“

“I can’t believe that I was cursed with this moron for a brother,” Asmo sighed, almost theatrically, as if he was performing. And, in a way, he was. People were getting really interested in the drama unfolding over there. It was making you even more anxious, all those eyes staring at you. The Avatar of Lust was leaning so much on his chair, you were sure he was going to topple over and at this point, you kinda hoped he would. Anything to stop this momentum of hatred aimed at Mammon “You’re always getting us in trouble, you know. Hmph, we can’t go anywhere with you Mammon! You always end up ruining it for us! With your stupid schemes and-“

“I’m hungry-“

“Not now, Beel!”

“Cutting him up into tiny pieces for the witches will always be an option,” Lucifer chimed in, smiling at the thought.

Mammon snapped his head upwards at that. It was such an abrupt reaction, it made you jolt a little in your seat. You couldn’t miss the tension radiating from him, how quickly his body stiffened and exactly how hard his hands were gripping the edge of the table. His brothers were still paying him no mind, blaming him for this and that under their breath or being silently judgemental in Lucifer’s case. You worried for him because Mammon rarely acted like this; feral, in a way. Just so you know, he definitely noticed it. The look of concern plastered all over your face. That’s the only reason he released the table from his vice-like grip and slouched back against his chair. Satan went quiet and was staring at Mammon in bewilderment.

He disliked the idea of you watching him lose control of himself. He was your guardian. Your first pact. It’s important to him that your relationship is build around a pillar of trust. And he can’t even expect you to trust him if he exposes you to his demon form every time something inconveniences him. Mammon would rather cease to exit than have you fear him. So he kept his breathing regulated as the fog cleared his mind. The Avatar of Greed isn’t an angry demon. Snuffing out the the flame of rage he had fanned up until then was relatively easy. He just needed to get through tonight, then he could go home and complain to you about it once he got out of his brothers’ earshot.

“Why does he get to spend so much time with MC anyway? He’d probably sell them for a few Grimm any time of the day, wouldn’t he? It’s so fucking unfair. He won’t change no matter what so why risk MC’s safety? I will summon Lotan on him if he starts getting on my nerves.”

It would be an understatement to say that those words rubbed Mammon the wrong way, judging by the lack of immediate response. It was unexpected for him keep his mouth shut at a time like this. What was even more unexpected was the abrupt, delayed reaction he had a few seconds afterwards, resulting in his chair being flung back about 5 feet in that general direction. The seemingly deafening thud it made when it collided with the floor echoed around the dining hall, bouncing off walls and whacking people over the heads with the aggression behind it. A moment of pure, indescribably loud silence filled the crowded space as everyone else stared in shock at their brother, mouths agape and eyes bulging out of their sockets. Mammon would’ve laughed at their faces if it weren’t for the circumstances leading up to that point.

“What gives any of you the right to treat me like some sort of punching bag?” Mammon drawled, accentuating his obviously superior nature to almost every single demon at that table. He laughed, in an oddly half hearted way, before his sea struck gaze landed back to his siblings “Do not try to push me into a corner, because I will not handle it well. You’ve been having a field day with me for centuries now and I’m starting to get really ticked off, ya know? But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’ve done everything in my power to keep MC alive for the past few months and y’all are acting as if I’m out here playing with their life. Complain about me all you want. But...” He thumped the table, loud enough to make all the noblemen in the room flinch.

“Don’t you dare insinuate that I would ever put MC in danger, willingly or not because I will rip out your insides and paint the walls of this palace with them while hanging your intestines from these chandeliers. I will pluck your hairs out one by one, then your nails, then your eyeballs and then your teeth. You’re the ones that have put MC in danger’s way time and time again in the past few weeks, and you’re out here trying to suggest that I would even think about hurting them? Unlike every single one of you, who almost killed my human-you’re lucky I don’t have your fucking heads.”

He smashed his fist into the table again, using even more of his strength this time and effectively breaking the whole thing, the wooden legs giving out and shattering into thousands of splinters. Mammon spoke again, his voice lowering “MC forgave you. I didn’t. And I have no reason to. Not with how you’ve been treating me.”Once he spit that out, Mammon turned on his heel and left, slamming the door shut behind him hard enough to shake the whole building, leaving his siblings in dazed awe.

......

Even more silence. For some reason, all of the brothers at the now broken table ended up looking your way, silently questioning what they should do. It often ended up like this

You gave them all an unimpressed stare and a half-assed shrug “Don’t look at me. You guys fucked up.” Before sliding out of your seat and following Mammon out of the castle, sending an apologetic smile to Diavolo on your way out. Hopefully, you could manage to calm him down before everyone else gets home otherwise this might drag on for a while.

Lucifer:

-In all honesty, he probably saw the signs from a mile away and still decided to ignore them

-Maybe because he believed they weren’t being all that harsh on him, even if in Mammon’s eyes they were

-‘Harsh’ in Lucifer’s vocabulary usually means being hanged upside down from a ceiling or publicly executed, not a couple of mere insults

-Not to mention the eldest had always been horrible at communicating with his brothers when it came to emotions

-Despite Mammon clearly suffering from the treatment he received from his brothers, Lucifer refuses to believe he’s the root of the problem

-As the Avatar of Pride, he always had a hard time realising that all those words and the constant teasing, which he deemed to be pretty harmless, scarred Mammon a lot more than expected

-Once he actually comes to that conclusion, and after getting over the initial shock, Lucifer would probably feel the guiltiest out of them all

-Being the eldest means he carries quite a few burdens on his shoulders as most responsibilities fall on him due to his prideful nature

-He would blame himself for Mammon’s outburst simply because he’s the older brother and he should’ve known better, not just because he sees how a big of a role he played in all of this

-Usually, if his brothers do something bad, then he’s there to fix it within hours, that’s how it always worked

-Except he doesn’t know how to fix this exactly

-The problem is he has no idea how to approach Mammon after that sudden meltdown and he has no idea how to talk it out with him because he sucks at expressing himself verbally

-And since this took place in a public space, Lord Diavolo’s Palace no less, he felt really conflicted on what should have been done at that moment in time

-There was a lot of frustration, embarrassment and confusion in him for a good five minutes after Mammon slammed that door shut behind him and even after he gathered his thoughts together, he was still in shock for the rest of the night

-In any case, the whole event was promptly cancelled and everyone ended up going home earlier than expected, after Lucifer apologised to Diavolo about the spectacle they created (several times)

-When they finally get home, he decided to give Mammon his space instead of trying to knock at his door and instead went back to his room

-He knows they will need to solve this matter soon but there’s no way Mammon will want to see, let alone talk, to any of them just yet

-He’s sort of hoping he can apologise best he can next morning at breakfast, cross his fingers and wish for the best but judging by the venom that laced Mammon’s voice the night before, it’s not likely he will forgive any of them that easily.

Levi:

-If I were to guess, he saw the ending credits of his life flash before his very eyes as soon as those words left his mouth

-Levi felt a panic in him like never before, not even while playing his engaging horror visual novels at 3am in complete darkness or that one time he used Lucifer’s credit card to buy merch before being found out

-Must’ve forgotten his brother technically ranks higher than him on the power scale for a second there

-Or maybe he didn’t think his insults were going to affect him much

-They usually don’t

-Or at least that’s the impression he’s been under for a while now

-Mammon doesn’t snap easily under pressure but Levi must’ve really hit a nerve there that night

-While everyone was sitting in a short silence after Mammon left the building, he started twiddling with his fingers again the more he thought about it

-Because now he went from nervous to fucking terrified of what the hell was waiting for him when he finally got home

-He does feel guilty, nowhere near as much guilt as Lucifer feels but still pure shame

-However most of that guilt is swallowed by a steady fear and the constant worry of ‘how do I stop my brother from killing me?’

-Unlike Lucifer, I honestly don’t see him taking any sort of initiative when it comes to apologising to Mammon

-Not even because he doesn’t want to, but he would freeze up if he were to come face to face with him after that incident and then scamper back to his room like a rat in hiding

-So without your help, it’s likely the two won’t be speaking to each very soon which can honestly make life at the House of Lamentation so much more miserable

-In the end, if either you or Lucifer forced him to, he would say sorry by selling some of his merch and then giving him the profits (in secret but we all know it’s him)

-That is a big sacrifice on Levi’s part considering how precious his merchandise is to him

-But the idea that he’s gonna get murdered in his sleep by his older brother was getting a tad too real

-Besides, Mammon is still his brother and if he has to sell a couple of items in order to make him less mad, he would do it, albeit with a bit of grumbling

-Despite that, Mammon still refuses to come out of his room and sort of relies on you to bring him food because he doesn’t want to see his brothers

-Levi and Mammon would probably have to rebuild a lot of their relationship after this but it could easily take months for that to happen since Levi is too terrified to look him in the eye and Mammon is too upset to even hear his voice

Satan:

-He wouldn’t be the Avatar of Wrath if he couldn’t spot the anger within someone from a mile away

-He’s always been able to recognise the fury building up inside of him so for Satan it’s second nature to just know when someone’s on the brink of snapping

-It’s no surprise to say that he probably noticed Mammon’s wrath spilling out before anyone else did

-But alas, he realised it too late

-If he had reacted quicker, maybe he would’ve been able to diffuse Mammon before he exploded on them. Or not

-It’s difficult to tell if he could’ve actually helped because who was he to tell Mammon to calm down??? If anyone told him that while he was throwing a fit, he would probably break their necks-

-In the end, he just pressed his lips into a straight line and watched his brother throw his chair across the room

-Not gonna lie, he found it a bit entertaining purely because of the look on Lucifer’s face

-Satan had to try really hard not to crack a smile because he knew Mammon would probably smash a glass against his head or something

-Even so, he was the first to stand up and offer to go after him, though he wasn’t sure he could do much consoling

-Being so experienced with anger meant that he knew Mammon had built himself into a rage that he won’t be able to escape out of too easily

-Which is why he advises Lucifer to give Mammon his space once they get home

-Overall, the most understanding out of all of the brothers

-At this point in time, probably the least judgemental out of everyone and once Mammon comes out of his room for the first time in a while, either him or Beel is going to apologise to him first

-He may push and push him alongside the rest of his siblings but I feel like Satan doesn’t want to reach a certain low, like cornering Mammon into the frenzy he had that day ever again

-He might get pissy with him if he’s being too stubborn to forgive anyone after coming down from his intrusive thoughts

-And he really hates that Mammon had to remind them about all the times you had nearly died because of them, because he knows they won’t be able to make it up to you so why is Mammon upset about this????

-But he will try to maintain respect for his older brother from then on

-Even if the sharpest of remarks is on the top of his tongue!

Asmo:

-Asmo is the type to laugh it off and then start feeling really upset about it later on, the longer he thinks about the whole thing

-After Mammon storms out, he just assumes it’s another one of those ‘Mammon’ things and tried to brush the feeling of unease off him

-Even so, later that night the memory of Mammon kept coming back to him while he laid in his bed, unable to have a nice rest for the first time in how long? He’s always been really strict about his sleeping schedules after all

-Asmo’s observant, almost on par with Satan himself when it comes down to it. He definitely saw the gleam of anger, pent up frustration and hatred in his brothers’ eyes that moment and it legitimately scared him, even if it was for just half a second

-Honestly, he begins neglecting himself out of anticipation and worry which is a huge red flag for the Avatar of Lust who always holds himself at such a superior level compared to everyone else

-It may start out slow, but it has the same effect as a snowball rolling down the hill. It becomes more of a problem the longer it’s ignored

-Because he spends most of his days now debating whether he should try to coax his brother into coming out of his room and apologising to him, he forgets about himself

-Skincare routines are missed, pedicure appointments have been cancelled; hell, if Mammon’s keeps being stubborn, he may let his hair become absolutely filthy

-Asmo sort of relies on his brothers to provide the living environment he revolves around. If something is off with his brothers, he can not work properly either because it doesn’t feel right to do so

-Imagine a machine not working anymore because one of the clogs in it got stuck

-I can see Asmo feeling a decent amount of guilt when it comes to the situation but he still blames Levi for completely pushing him over the edge at dinner

-So now those two aren’t talking (it’s honestly so exhausting since they’re shoving the blame onto each other without stop)

-If Mammon decides to come out and hear them out, Asmo might get on his knees and beg because that guilt bubbling up inside of him may end up being his demise

-No seriously, MC might need to keep an eye out on him too while comforting Mammon because whatever he is doing isn’t healthy

-Takes Mammon’s outburst pretty badly and tries apologising to him many times but the second eldest still hasn’t said a word to any of them

-And that’s driving him into a fucking swirl of insanity at this point

-Of course, much like Mammon’s mental breakdown, this builds up over time but the result can be devasting

-If you pass by his room at night, you could probably hear him sob about how his brother hates him and it’s really heartbreaking to hear pained cries like that coming from such an overly confident demon like Asmo

Beel:

-Literally the only one here that doesn’t dish out insults onto Mammon every hour of the day

-He joins in very rarely and even when he does, it’s usually in good nature rather than malice

-Unless food is involved. Feelings (and Mammon) might be hurt if that’s the case

-Beel wasn’t listening to his siblings as they were diminishing Mammon, he was way too hungry to comprehend what the hell they were on about

-So he just started wolfing down appetisers until he noticed you looking all weary

-That’s the first thing that put him on alert

-And then the second born’s aura was also...off putting

-Might’ve actually tried to nudge Belphie to stop him from saying anything offensive to Mammon in this state when he realised how tense the atmosphere got

-Flinched when his brother left the palace, almost cracking the whole doorway on his way out

-Hunger is all but gone and at this point he wants to go home to check up on him

-Beel is a bit of a softie and he wears his heart on his sleeve a lot of the times

-He never did anything particularly bad to Mammon, not on the same scale his brothers did certainly and yet he still felt extremely bad

-Perhaps because he didn’t step in as much as he should’ve...?

-Either way, when his loved ones suffer, he has a tendency of putting the blame on himself because he feels it’s the only logical answer

-Honestly, he feels guilty enough to the point where it’s affecting his eating habits-which is obviously not normal for the Avatar of Gluttony

-Beel knows Mammon doesn’t want to talk to him but he still brings him food and leaves it at the doorstep of his room since he doesn’t want to come out and have dinner with them

-Or he relies on you to give it to him

-The thought of Mammon being so mad at them that he doesn’t even want to eat makes him feel so vulnerable

-As soon as he sees him for the first time since that night, he will probably be the first to apologise, even if Mammon isn’t in the mood to hear apologies

-Again, he’s trying to use food to make up to him (bringing him his favourites and paying for them)

-Even if he gets ignored, he’s still going to do it

-Beel is trying his best to say sorry to his older brother the only way he knows how to do so, but Mammon still doesn’t give in

Belphie:

-Could’ve been asleep the whole time Mammon was thrashing about

-Or at least that’s what it looked like to the average passer-by

-Kept one eye open to watch as Mammon finally snapped under pressure, having to raise his head once his brother broke the whole god damned table

-“OK, alright, storm off I guess-I have a splinter now-“

-Don’t trust that sarcastic commentary, he’s in deep thought on the inside

-Maybe he should’ve expected this but then again, he never would’ve guessed Mammon had it in him to be so aggressive

-Will narrow his eyes at him when he talks your death and scowl

-As if he didn’t already feel like the world’s biggest piece of shit, he had to bring that up

-As soon as he leaves, he turns to Lucifer and goes “See what you did? You broke Mammon. You suck, Lucifer.”

-The shifting of blame suits Belphie really well (it takes Beel side glancing him to get him to shut up)

-The Avatar of Sloth is too tired to even try to communicate with his brother so he goes straight to bed after getting home

-However, he actually visits Mammon’s dreams that night

-Or at least tries to, if Mammon is getting any sleep after that showdown

-It’s his way of checking in with his brother, helps him evaluate the situation

- Whether that works or not, there was definitely an attempt that required a lot of effort and you don’t see that very often with Belphagour

-It really demonstrates how much he actually cares for his family, even if he hides behind snide remarks and the likes of it

-However, if Mammon refuses communication, then he can’t do anything but give up

-He clearly won’t be able to convince him to step aside for a chit chat and why waste energy trying to force him to do so

-When the time comes, Belphie knows his brother will willingly talk to him (or at least someone else because he knows he’s not any good at comfort or apologies)

-At the same time, a lot of the things Mammon said during that party rubbed him the wrong way and seeing his twin suffer because of it is also pissing him off so patience may be running thin with Belphie

-Like Levi, there may be a lot of ice between the two from then onwards so it won’t be easy for them to find the middle ground in this whole argument either

-It could lead to a strained relationship if no one intervenes or even a physical fight if the youngest pushes all of Mammon’s buttons properly

Diavolo:

-The Future King feels guilty too, for some reason

-He is clearly not involved but he’s under the impression his party was a catalyst of sorts to the fight that broke out that night

-Diavolo wasn’t even in the same room when it happened-he heard shouting and growling from next door whilst talking to a noble about future arrangements in DevilDom and rushed in

-The sight was something to behold really; Mammon cornering all of his brothers and threatening them with pure venom in his voice wasn’t something you saw everyday

-More often than not, it was the other way around so the Prince had every right to be concerned

-He tried asking Lucifer what was going on after the second eldest slammed the door shut behind him and left but to no avail; the Avatar of Pride was in a state of shock and the only thing he did was apologise to him about a million times before his departure with the rest of his siblings

-Despite his worry, Diavolo tried not to get involved in the aftermath either, believing it’s not his place to interfere and hoping they would solve it out amongst themselves

-He did give Mammon permission to miss RAD classes for that week, thinking a small break is what he needed most

-Even drops by every now and then to check up on him (he just asks you how he’s holding up because he doesn’t want to pry)

-He can’t do much but watch from the sidelines, I mean this is a family dispute so it would be wise to just give them all a bit of space

-If it drags on for too long, however, he will be forced to do something because the brothers are all distracted and can’t get on with their student council work because of it

-Lucifer is even more stressed than usual and can’t even focus during their meetings so for the sake of his friend, if nothing gets resolved quickly, he will intervene and it won’t be pretty

-For now, he’s counting on you to make sure there are no further incidents but it’s unlikely you can stop a train once it’s set in motion so just hope Mammon doesn’t come out of his room until he’s calmed down

Barbatos:

-The butler is a Time Lord so it’s probably no surprise to find out he already knew this was going to happen eventually

-Not like he believed Mammon was going to take his brothers’ insults for much longer anyway

-Being the quiet and observant demon he is, he’s been keeping a close eye on the Avatar of Greed knowing damn well he was going to lose his patience soon enough and go on the offence

-If he knew this was going to happen at such an important moment in time, he would’ve warned his majesty beforehand but he failed to see the potential catastrophe awaiting his breakdown

-Again, he has no right to intervene

-Unless, of course, Lord Diavolo asks him to do so but really the most he can do is give you tips on how to deal with miserable demons

-I mean, you’re the one that’s going to be stuck with them for the rest of the year and this isn’t the type of conflict that gets resolved too easily

-Barbatos is clever so if there is still bitterness between Mammon and his siblings after an amount of time passed, he might try to change timelines (with the permission of Diavolo)

-He’s had enough of Beel coming over to eat his cakes and cry about his older brother hating him (believe it or not, the butler is definitely a bit fond of the sixth eldest so his cries did pull at his heartstrings)

-Basically, in the same position as the Prince

-He relies on you to get them all to make up but he knows it’s not likely to happen any time soon

-For now, he’s getting ready for the chain reaction this fight set in motion because there was no easy way to end this, considering they’re all vicious demons and all

—————————————————————-

Al~ im mad I couldn’t add Simon, Luke and Solomon-I want to write for them too >:(

[sokkas-first-fangirl]

Prompt: 16 years old Bruno is trying to hide from a teenager boy who keeping asking him on a date and won't leave him alone until Felix and Agustin protect him along with telling him he has to deal with Papa first.

A very good friendship between Bruno, Felix, and Agustin when they were younger.

Technically covered this in my A/B/O ‘verse! But we can never have enough Fab Trio shenanigans 💕

More Omega ‘verse!

Manuel Sanchez was a dick. Bruno wasn’t normally one for swearing but God above, Manuel was such a fucking dick.

For once, Bruno didn’t even feel anxious. Let Manuel brag about being an Alpha- what did Bruno care? Manuel could make all the gross suggestions he wanted, it wouldn’t change Bruno’s mind.

Relationships just didn’t interest Bruno. Romance sounded nice in theory (it made for good stories!) but it just wasn’t for him.

Granted, it wasn’t romance that Manuel had in mind.

“C’mon,” Manuel said, his hand on Bruno’s hip. “No need to be shy, your sister isn’t around.”

Manuel should be thanking his lucky stars that Pepa wasn’t here, or she’d surely zap him again. Bruno should have been quicker to leave school when the bell rang, but he’d stayed behind to ask about an art assignment and now he was cornered.

Stupid Alphas.

“Get off me,” Bruno said quietly, firmly. He held his books to his chest like a shield, trying to push past Manuel.

“Oh, lighten up!” Manuel’s grip tightened as he tried to push Bruno towards the trees. Okay, shit, maybe it was time for Bruno to start screaming. “We can-”

“SANCHEZ, GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HIM!”

Bruno’s jaw dropped as Félix came sprinting. He’d never, ever, heard Félix sound so angry. Agustín was right behind him, waving a big stick like a sword, screaming a rather high-pitched battle cry.

Manuel let go of Bruno at last, but he didn’t get far: Félix grabbed him by the shirt collar and knocked him into the wall of the school house. He even grabbed Agustín’s stick and hit Manuel with it.

Between the legs.

You get the picture.

Agustín, fifteen and gangly, pushed Bruno behind him, arms outstretched and a grimly determined look on his face, like he was on a battle field.

Félix, on the other hand, kneeled down to be eye level with Manuel as the other Alpha doubled over in pain.

“Remember how Pepa zapped you?” Félix asked pleasantly. “That wasn’t fun, right? Well, you come near my friend again and I’ll make sure you’re nice and soaked from the river when Pepa zaps you. That won’t be nice, will it? You don’t want that?”

Manuel shook his head, red-faced. Bruno could only stare at Félix in shock. Where had Mr Class Clown gone? He’d never seen Félix threaten someone like this.

“Then piss off,” Félix told Manuel. Staggering slightly, Manuel began to hobble off.

“Uptight bitch,” he muttered, glaring at Bruno.

Félix picked up the stick again.

Manuel did the smart thing and ran.

“Are you okay?” Agustín asked. He had Bruno by the shoulders, looking very closely at his face.

Despite everything, Bruno smiled. “I’m fine, Gus,” he said.

If anything, this just confirmed his sisters would never let these boys go. He’d be sure to tell them.

And…Well, it was nice to know he had friends watching out for him. It made a big difference.

“No one messes with my brothers and gets away with it,” Félix said firmly. “Now let’s get out of here, Pepa and Julieta have been looking for you, bro.”