#but she just kept prescribing it for my sleep even though it fucked up my sleep so I stopped taking it

[neverendingford]

.

[jenniefromdblock]

Drained

[Originally posted on JULY 21, 2021 ]

I rushed my mom twice to the ER the other day (7/16/2021) due to her complaining about an excruciating pain on her left side.

I woke up with her moaning in pain around 7am, so I immediately got up and packed a lot of disinfectants and my laptop (I had to work) and drove to 2 goverment hospitals’ ER. The 1st one just referred us to the 2nd, the 2nd just prescribed meds. They were prioritizing COVID patients, even though their ERs are empty (shoutout to the 2nd which is QCGH). I’m not going to comment on how they handled our situation because I know they have their “reasons”. Since Mom was still in so much pain, we went ahead to Capitol Med. Yes, I know it is private and expensive but fuck it. It’s Mom.

We arrived at around 11am (I had no concept of time, I just wanted the day to be over) and we were immediately attended to. Mom was hooked up to an IV (omeprazole at first, then liquid paracetamol), blood works, urinalysis, and xray were done. When I asked her, she says the pain was level 8 and went to intermittent. There were also times that it goes away. According to her urinalysis, they found specks of blood, so they Rx’d Mom to be CT scanned for suspected kidney stones. During that time I kept on asking her if she can manage the pain, etc. She was like meh, and we were already given prescriptions so we decided that we will sign the waiver to not perform the CT Scan at that moment (the reason and backstory later). We were discharged around 4pm.

I was able to settle a bit when we got home and go back to working. Not even two hours later, Mom was again writhing in pain and she was crying “Lord, please make it stop.” Her pain tolerance is so high that seeing her in that situation was very alarming, so thats when I decided to ask my sister to call an ambulance (I was no longer in the right mental and emotional state to drive at that moment) while I prepare the stuff we need in case she gets confined.

We were brought again to Capitol Med because at least they already know us, the guard was literally like “Uy, parang kanina lang…”. We agreed to do the CT Scan and results says the pain is caused by kidney stones.

Also, even though my Mom doesn’t feel anything, they saw an 8x12x12 benign cyst on her right ovaries. While the doctor assured us its nothing and can be treated easily, they referred us to an OB GYN, who explained the next steps for treatment to us.

Honestly at that point, I hear garbled messages. I can no longer process anything because all I worry about was how the fuck am I going to pay for the hospital bills because I am super bankrupt.

The Backstory: I was retrenched in December 2020 and we were trying to survive off my separation pay (which isn’t that big amount so if you ask me, no I didn’t even have the chance to enjoy it). In April 2021, I got a freelancing job and I am in contract until December, which I am very thankful for. But what I earn is just enough for the utility bills and monthly groceries for 3 people. Yes, I also have been the provider in this house.

I only have Php 1,000 ($20) in my bank account. I have 2 credit cards that I have not been using and been paying off so I can cut it.

But I had to. I maxed out the limit of my first credit card to settle the hospital bills during our ER Visit #1. I had no choice but to do the same for my second to pay off ER Visit #2, not to mention the prescribed medicines worth 2 weeks. Oh btw, the OB GYN consultation fee needed to be paid in cash, so yeah goodbye 1k. Before, I psych myself bankrupt but I still have like 10k+ in the bank. But now, I am literally, really, very, zero balance.

At this point I am not sure how will I be able to bring her to a urologist, another OB GYN session and possible operation.

Well, going back to the main story… we got home around 12am. Mom was still in pain but at least we know the cause. Also, the pain reliever works so Mom was able to sleep enough.

I am still mentally and emotionally drained. Most of all, financially.

So that’s how the day went.

[lastoneout]

They were also SO weird about my daily meds. I wasn't allowed to take them on my normal schedule that my regular doctors have signed off on, apparently this hospital has a special rulebook for when and how often I'm "actually" supposed to be taking any given medication which takes priority over my current regular medication schedule and thus I was forced to adhere to it, so between that and the whole "the nurses are so busy they are constantly late bringing me my meds which HAVE to be taken at a specific time each day, meant I felt extra mega like shit. (Like I'm on Lamictal and you CANNOT just fucking stop taking Lamictal and they wanted me to skip a dose and take it in the morning "like I'm supposed to" even though my actual fucking psychatrist said I can take it morning or night, whichever is more comfortable for me, it literally doesn't matter at all. I also kept missing the times for my Propranolol which meant my POTs was out of wack and making me dizzy and my heart race.)

Also the on-site pharmacy didn't carry one of my usual medications so they gave me a choice between switching to an "equivalent" one the doctor approved of(a decision I was not present for so I couldn't even give informed consent, like I didn't get any info on this other med aside from it's name and the assurance that "it would do the same thing" which I found dubious at best given that this was prescribed by a specialist and my assigned doctor was not trained in that field at all) or just not taking it at all, and I was explicitly forbidden from touching my meds from home(my usual hospital has no such rule so idk why they were being like this about it, I had no reason to think me bringing them was against the rules) and they nearly forced my fiancé to take the ones I brought—since I knew I'd be there for two days and figured I'd like need my meds—back to my house, so I couldn't even just take my usual meds which I literally had in my bag, I was forced to take something else.

So yeah like the constant inability to sleep or eat given the cycle of intense nausea and excruciating pain no one cared to treat correctly was already stressing me out to the point that I knew I was going to have a fibro flare that would make it harder to recover, plus the whole "ignoring me for several hours when I was sobbing from how badly I had to pee despite being unable to on my own because they just didn't believe it was possible for me to have to pee that bad until my fiancé was pissed enough he went and found them(literally actively shit talking me when he walked up too) and essentially forced them to check again, which the assistant who was in charge of that did so carelessly it make the pain so much worse and she refused to even speak to or really look at me while she did it too, and then they had to rush to give me a catheter which meant they couldn't find a smaller tube(my urologist has told me I have an uncommonly small urethra and bladder opening) or be careful so it hurt really bad" thing, AND the saying they'd give me enough pain meds to help at home only to change the dose to a lower, less effective one which I only found our about after they discharged me and I was told because I'd been discharged the doctor wouldn't speak to me(the pharmacist literally said once you're discharged you're treated as "out of sight, out of mind" like he said those exact words) AND the surgery team just straight up not returning any of my calls today to try to get the medication thing fixed, I think this hospital is run by inhumane monsters who don't give a shit about their staff or patients, which in turn makes their staff unwilling to care for their patients basically at all and they should probably face serious consequences for treating people this way.

Oh, also I just remembered the surgeon said they would tell me what setting my shunt was at because I would absolutely need that information, but no one ever told me and right as we were leaving we realized that and mentioned it and the nurse was like "idk I can't find it written in your chart so I guess you'll just have to call the neurosurgeon" and then lectured me again about the dangers of pain meds before vanishing and not returning. Which I'm sure is fine and normal.

God I fucking hate that hospital with every fiber of my living being. Also they should decriminalize all drugs and I'm not kidding.

And I'm filing a fucking grievance.

I'm home from the hospital and I can confirm that the opioid crisis has made these places fucking insane about literally all medications.

[subwaysurf45]

Code Star

Summary: a code word you and Bucky share is used; but it’s not in a good way.

Warning: panic attack, ripping out hair, addiction(little bit)

Words: 2030

Masterlist!

"Agent. Agent. Copy agent?" Friday spoke through the speakers in your room, it was louder than normal and also in the middle of the night which was the reason you woke up with a gasp.

"C-copy," you spat out, you typically sleep with your mouth open, so it gets dry when you first wake.

"Mr. Barns is calling you, he says it's 'code star'." Your stomach dropped, from all the adrenaline from waking up with a scare and the code, you sprinted down the hall way.

-

It was late and you were in the kitchen, you were trying to separate from your sleeping pills because during your last mission you couldn't sleep because you forgot them, you were addicted to them. So you needed to take a step back, learn to fall asleep on your own.

After asking around there was a tea Wanda recommended, it was lavender tea and she said it's the best with honey. You were currently steeping your bag and had honey beside you.

You took the soggy bag out and turned to the compost bin, after dropping it in and turned around you almost slipped because Bucky was right there.

Standing frozen. Dead face. Staring at you.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You yelled, not caring if it woke someone up, "what's wrong with you?" You realized you clutched at your heart through your sweater.

He was on the other side of the island, but he seemed to be leaning over a bit, he looked down at your steaming mug and then back at you.

"I- I was going to say hi and then I liked the smell of your tea and then when you turned I looked up at you, I-I didn't mean to freak you out, that must have been really scary, sorry." He looked down into the cup again. "What is it?" He finally asked.

You let your guard down a bit, "lavender," you never looked away from him, "and honey." That was the most he'd ever said to you since he showed up two months ago, he stayed in his room the first month.

"Nice," he nodded, his metal arm coming up and rubbing the back of his neck.

"There's extra water, I can make you one." You knew he was going to ask for your cup, but you really need to hit the sack.

His face lit up in the dark, "perfect!" He half smiled.

You poured the other cup and steeped the another bag, then added honey as well. You both stayed where you were on either side of the island.

"Why are you up?" He asked while blowing on the tea, his voice was below normal level.

"Just can't sleep," you sigh and look over to the common room, no one was there but you really didn't want to meet his eyes.

"I get that," he spoke awkwardly and looked over as well, thinking you were studying something.

"I'm-...I'm trying to get if sleeping pills my shit therapist prescribed for me," you looked back at him, his eye brows raised and his head tilted forty-five degrees.

"Sleeping pills?"

"Insomnia."

"Oh..." he spoke to himself and looked down again, his thumb rubbing the smooth ceramic handle of the blue mug that wasn't his. "I get nightmares." He stated blankly, but he didn't look up at his statement.

"Is it..." you tried to find the right words to not trigger him, "before the war, like America...or later on…in life...?" You danced around the question, Steve had told you mentioning certain things can get Bucky really freaked out.

"My mind," he laughed sarcastically, "it likes to mix the two," he pulled one side of his mouth tight.

"Double-whammy," you whispered, then froze at the sound of a giggle, Bucky chuckled. "What?"

"No-I-I just...I get that reference," he seemed proud, his face seemed to fall quickly though, circling back, "my arm is weird, it's like my human arm but the star," he points to the red, "is like sewn in, I don't know what it means but..." he trialed off.

"Well, if you need help, just call a code star, I'll come to your room and bring you some tea, how about that?" You smile.

"What? Like a friend?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Okay," he smiled and nodded, "alright," his fingers drummed on the counter, "I'm gonna take this back to my room, but I'll remember that." He nodded and left, but caught himself at the corner to the rooms, "hey, agent," he spoke normal, you looked, "if you're gonna be my friend, don't ask 'what's wrong with me?', because trust me...I’ll talk you to your grave." He smirked.

“Noted, Sargent.” You’ve never seen him joke with you before, it felt comforting.

-

'Code star' had never been used for its newer purpose before, as the friendship and relationship grew 'code star' became 'code lavender', it happened after Bucky called 'code star' once while he was having a panic attack, you took so long to make the tea he was passed out by the time you showed up.

'Code lavender': make a tea, meet in the kitchen.

'Code star': panic attack, drop everything a come.

You sprinted down the hallway to the very last room, you could hear laboured breathing as you got closer. Typically you'd knock softly and come in quietly, not this time.

You whipped open the door to see Bucky staring slightly down on the edge of his bed, he was rocking back and forth as his fingers ripped and pulled on his long hair. His pupils blew wide and his lips curled causing his teeth to flash, he didn't even look up at you.

A loud bang from your knees hitting the hardwood didn't phase him either, you tired to duck down to meet his line of eye sight but you couldn't get down enough.

"Bucky, look at me!" You pulled his hands out of his hair, as you made him drop them to his side you found a pile of hair outside his thighs, "oh god," you whispered, your hand unlacing with his to pick up the locks, the free hand of his went straight back to tugging. "Don't do that, don't do that." You hushed and took it out again, a tuff came with it. "Bucky, look at me," you said calmer now, you needed to be the example. "Bucky, nod if you can hear me."

He didn't nod, his eyes stayed locked on your chest. They didn't move there, he was already looking there, it was like he was looking through you.

You kept his hands clumped in your right hand and your left hand began to trace around his face, starting at his cheeks that were dry, little circles led to cross the bridge the nose a couple times. You also started humming, a song you heard Bucky and Steve sing once while drunk and having fun.

His eye brows seemed to raise for a second at the tune, but he quickly fell back into his short shallow breathes. You kept going, your finger gently tracing his cleft chin, it was always something you pinched when joking around with him.

"Wake up, Bucky," you whispered after finishing the song, you started the tune again. His breathing seemed to slow a little and his almost black eyes moved around a bit, "there you go," you cupped his cheek, now just shifting your thumb back and forth. You didn't know if he'd start to pull his hair out again so you kept both the metal and flesh hand covered with your left.

His breathing went to normal, his rib cage expanding wide as he took voluntary breathes. His eyes were shut tight but you felt him lean into your hand that was still holding his cheek.

"Are you with me?" You asked softly, he leaned into your hand again, his hand slowly made it up to his face and he placed his hand over yours, gently guiding it down to his lips; his kisses to your palm were long and filled with their own language.

"I'm here," his voice cut out and became a breath, but you heard him. His eyes looked up before his head moved, he locked eyes with you and something changed.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time, eyes a little wide and confused; but knowing at the same time. They became misty the more he looked, he was never one to cry so he dropped his head to cover the tears.

"It's okay," you hushed, he dropped your hand and leaned forward, basically throwing his entire body weight onto you. You fell back to the floor and he cried in your chest, you saw some of his hair fall with him. "Let it out," your arms wrapped around him and began to rub all along his back, huge, gentle, soothing rubs.

"I-I killed you all," his voice sounded like a dog panting from his short breathes that came when he talked, "I- couldn't s-stop," his 's' slithered like snakes as he tries get sufficient air and talk.

"We're all here, just a dream." It was the same mantra, "we're all here, you're safe, it was a nightmare, you're out of it now. There you go, big breathes, you're doing great, you're a pro at this, keep breathing." You let the broken record play, he seemed to get smaller at every praise.

He sat up and leaned against the bed, Bucky pulled his sleeve around his fist to hold it tight. When he wiped his face it was aggressive, like he was mad at himself. He just stared at you like he always did, you were alway involved in his dreams so he needed to look at you to stay grounded.

"Sorry," his 's' still slurred, "I-...I'm sorry," he wanted to say something else, you could hear it in his tone. His head dropped, Bucky almost fell over at the sight of his hair, "did I do that?" He asked, his nose turned up.

All you did was nod, any verbal answer would've sounded almost grossed out or accusatory. He sighed and looked between the hair and you, he wanted to say something, he'd already stopped himself once.

"Tell me," you whispered.

"I want to cut my hair," Bucky responded softly, "I-I also want to sleep on the floor from now own." He seemed ashamed of the second ask.

"You like the cold?" You tried to figure him out.

"That and it's...comforting...I think," Bucky scratched his head, his metal hand slowing at the thin spot from tugging, "it just grounds me, I'm not used to fluffy things- nicer things."

"How about a mattress pad, you're back will scream at you in the morning." You tried to lighten the mood, he smiled a bit and then nodded. "How about you come sleep in my room tonight, just so I can keep an eye on you and if you want to sleep on my firm mattress you can hop on, how's that?" You stood and held your hand out, Bucky nodded and clapped his metal hand to yours.

You led him down the hallway and to your room, it was really quiet and almost off putting. You slept barefoot so the sound of soft footsteps from your feet was the only thing you heard, Bucky wore socks.

He went straight to your bed and felt the mattress, both hands pressing down on it to see the give it has. You felt a little happy when he was nodding in a positive way; his bottom lip also pouted out.

Bucky slipped in and you joined as well, he stayed still for a while, on his back and staring at the ceiling.

"Y'know, you can cuddle," you whispered, without another second to blink Bucky's face rested on your chest, his arm circled your body completely in a tight hug. Your hands found their way to his back and to his hair, softly lulling him to sleep, "I'll cut your hair in the morning."

"Love you," he murmured.

[lazysimp]

Normal Again /// Bakugou x Fem Reader (18+)

✧Click HERE to read Male version ✧

Rating: Explicit

Summary: A sequel to fine. You never expected recovery to be easy but you never thought it would be nearly impossible. In the weeks since your torture things between you and Bakugou had only grown more strained. Will you be able to save your relationship or is it a lost cause? 

Word count: 8.7k 

Warnings/tags: TW: Self hatred/violence, degradation (not in a sexy way), Angst, Explicit sexual content, Oral sex (giving and receiving), Anal play, She/Her pronouns, All characters are adults, SMUT 18+ Only

masterlist┃AO3

A vicious laugh filled the air as Bakugou’s boot connected with your cheek sending your body flying towards the ground. His deep red eyes were full of glee watching you spit out blood from your busted cheek. He crouched down, looking at you as if you were filth. 

“Look at you,” he sneered. “Just lying there taking it all. You are pathetic, honesty how did I ever see you as more than an easy fuck.” 

“Stop it Bakugou,” you beg weakly. You could not bring yourself to understand how such cruel words could come from the same mouth that used to worship you. 

His boot connects to your head once more sending blinding pain shooting through your skull. “Did you really think you were going to be with me forever? That I would tie myself to someone who can’t even stop themselves from getting kidnapped by a B-ranked villain.” 

His boot rests on your face, its thick rubber sole indenting its print into your cheek. “The only reason I kept you around this whole time was that you spread your legs whenever I wanted. You are easy, too easy and the whole office knows it. They all laugh at you, at how much of a whore you are.” 

Tears begin to leak from your eyes as he brought to light all your insecurities. You would rather he kept beating you than continue to torture you with his taunts. After every night of the same torture you had grown numb to the physical pain but no matter how hard you tried you could not escape his words. 

“If it wasn’t for you I would have already climbed my way to the top. All you can do is hold me back from my dreams with your constant failures. You make me despise you.” 

His heel digs into your temple creating an agonizing inescapable pressure. You were helpless to stop his merciless assault and you were not sure you even wanted to. All you really wanted was for all of this to stop. The constant pain and guilt had worn down your spirit, it was as though you had nothing left to even lose. 

“Look at you just lying there taking it. Why don’t you fight me you pathetic bitch? Why don’t you ever fight?” He screamed, emphasizing each with a blow to your head. You reach up to cover your ears not wanting to hear anything else but your arms were trapped down at your side, held by some invisible force. 

You try again to lift move your arms and then your legs but a warm tight hold tightened even further. Needing to escape the suffocating warmth you thrash around, lashing out at the invisible force. 

“Shh, baby it is ok,” Bakugou said above you his boot still on your head. “This is all just a dream.” 

You slam your eyes closed needing to escape the glaring red eyes that only brought you pain. 

“Mimic is dead and will never hurt you again I promise,” Bakugou’s voice grows closer to your ear. This was your chance! You manage to free one arm and reach up, blindly scratching at any body part you could reach. 

Your nails scream for mercy as you drag them viciously down his arm, their gliding made easy by blood. Despite the pain you know you must have caused, the invisible hold only tightened, trapping both of your hands. 

“Please baby open your eyes, you are safe I promise.” Bakugou’s voice cooed softly trying to pry you away from your own mind. 

You shake your head not trusting the voice, after all, it was the same one that had just been hurting you. With both your hands held still you are left with no choice but to use your teeth. You bite down on one of the arms holding you, sinking your teeth deep into the flesh until a rusty taste fills your mouth. 

“Open your eyes my beautiful girl please,” Bakugou’s voice grew clearer, the malice you had been expecting surprisingly absent. 

Reluctantly you relax into the warm hold and crack one eye open. A sweet smelling black tank top was the first thing you recognized. You blink your eyes a few times to clean them and get a better look around. 

The cold dark room you had been in only moments ago was gone, replaced by a soft bed and warm blankets. The tight suffocating grip that had held you earlier is now a warm embrace. 

You look at the strong arms holding you to your fiancé’s chest and wince. Deep red scratch marks littered his muscles and an already bruising bite branded his shoulder. With you no longer resisting he released your hands and started to run his fingers up and down your back. Despite his mask of relaxation, you could tell he was shaken up. 

“I did it again didn’t I?” you ask weakly already knowing the answer. 

Bakugou let out a sigh, “Yeah, it took me nearly ten minutes to get you back this time.” 

Overwhelming guilt filled your mind for the second time tonight. You had hurt the man you loved because of some stupid dreams. It had been months since your rescue and still every night without fail you dreamed about it happening. It was like the torture never stopped. 

“It is getting worse,” Bakugou says, continuing to pet down your back. 

You nod weakly. He was not wrong. Neither of you had gotten a full night’s rest since the incident. No matter what pills you took without fail you dreamed about Bakugou. Logically you knew it was not Bakugou who had been the one to hurt you. He was your hero and his reward is you flinching from his touch and attacking him in your sleep. None of this was fair. 

Bakugou’s lips softly pressed against your forehead as he pulled you in even closer. You ignored the spike of fear being close to him caused and tried to remember this was your Bakugou, not the sick twisted version Mimic created. 

“We can’t keep going like this baby,” he says weakly. “I think I need to leave for a little bit.” 

Absolute panic grips your heart, “No! Please don’t leave me. I’ll get better I promise. I will find another sleeping pill that one doctor prescribed worked for the first couple of weeks. We can figure this out, please don’t-” 

“Shh,” Bakugou pulled you in closer. “Right now I am not good for you.” 

You open your mouth to protest but he places his hand finger over our lips. “Baby you flinch every time I look at you.” 

You wanted to deny his claim but remember how his eyes felt on your skin and shutter. 

“My face, my voice, hell my smell are all triggers for you. I am hurting you by being near you. I am causing you pain by serving as a living reminder of your pain and I can’t do it anymore.” 

Hot tears start to fall from your eyes. You hated how everything he is saying is not wrong. He is a walking trigger for the memories of that night and you had no idea how to get over them. 

“So this is it,” you say, defeated. 

“No, baby god no. You and I just need some time apart until you are ready to see me again. I am planning on staying at Deku’s for a bit, the nerd offered me his spare bedroom.” 

Despair was the only thing you could feel. All of this was your fault and he should hate you for it but he doesn’t. Why doesn’t he hate you like you hate yourself? He should be screaming at you for causing all of this. The blame is yours and yours alone. If you had been just a little stronger you would never have been taken in the first place and none of this would have happened. 

“Until I can get you to talk to me about how you are feeling I can’t help you. All I am doing is making this worse.” His arms started to loosen their hold around you and for the first time in weeks you wanted them back. 

His arms pulled away completely, taking his warmth. “This is not permanent,” he assured. “It is just until you are ready for me to come back and I will wait as long as you need.” 

You start to reach out for him, to beg him to get back in bed but the silhouette of him above you sent a chill down your spine. You wanted to rip everything apart, every time you made progress there was something dragging you backward. 

You watch helplessly as he quickly dresses and leaves the bedroom, not looking back. You can’t blame him, you want to be free of yourself too. You could hear the front door to the apartment open and quietly shut, the lock clicking into place. 

Life moved slower when you did not have your angry gremlin by your side. It had been a few weeks since he left and you had never been more miserable. At first, you had agreed to the separation, after all, he was a giant trigger but you were quickly realizing it was worse without him. 

The anxiety of being alone at night had you reaching for your phone nearly every night, wanting to call him. It was a miracle you had managed to resist. With you not there to bother him maybe he would finally be getting some sleep. 

The only communication you had gotten from him was a couple of texts letting you know he was still alive. You know he was trying to give you space but the longer he was away the more you wanted to drag him back home. 

Your therapist had still not cleared you for fieldwork so the only thing you could to distract yourself was binge a couple of shows and try some cooking. Of course nothing you made tasted half as good as Bakugou’s cooking. By the end of the the first week your life consisted of sleep, tv, and takeout. 

Your glazed-over eyes half focus on the tv in front of you as you are lost in your thoughts. You hear a knock on the door and rush over to open it. Could he have changed his mind and come back? For the first time in a long time hope filled your chest but it was quickly shattered as you look through the peephole. Uraraka stood still outside your door holding a few grocery bags. 

You try to plaster on a fake smile and open the door. Uraraka did not wait for an invitation and barreled her way into your apartment. 

“Hello to you too,” you mumble, closing the door. 

She sets the floating bags onto the counter and releases her quirk. “Whew, you would believe the line at the store this morning. All the old ladies were fighting their way into the store for the 20% off sale. Of course none of them could beat me from being first in line.” 

You snort, no matter how many brand deals and hero contracts Uraraka had she never stopped being frugal. 

“How was your morning?” She asked, unpacking the many goods from the bags. 

You shrug, “Same as always, watched some tv and pretend my life isn’t falling apart.” 

Uraraka pauses and gives you a look of understanding. “You know he hasn’t forgotten about you, not for one minute.” 

You look away, “What does it matter, our relationship is practically over. I have not seen him in weeks and even if I did see him I would make everything worse with my stupid fear.” 

“You fear is not stupid, you went through something traumatic and need time to heal.” 

You scoff, “I have had time. But every time I make any progress something triggers me and I fall right back down to where I started.” 

“That is normal though! It took me weeks to even look at Deku without crying. You are both being too hard on yourselves.” 

“I am tired of waiting!” You yell, finally letting your anger out in the open. “I miss him so much it hurts. I miss how he would hold me every night after he helped me bathe because I was too sore to even lift my arms. I miss how he would pack my lunch every day because he could not stand watching me go hungry. I miss my Bakugou.” 

Uraraka wraps her arms around your shoulders pulling you in tight against her chest, letting you sob. It was the first time in weeks anyone had touched you. Her soft hands traced up and down your back, trying her best to soothe the pain. 

“I miss him so much,” you cry between hiccups. 

“So why don’t you call him? I am sure he would be happy to hear your voice.” Uraraka pulls out her phone and starts to dial his number. 

“No!” You snatch the phone from her hand and toss it over your shoulder. You wince as you hear the phone connect with the hardwood floor. 

The hand on your back stills, “You are going to replace that you know.” 

You nod, a worthy expense if it meant you did not have to confront reality just yet. At least with him gone you could pretend your relationship was not over. 

“Stop saying that! Your relationship is not over. What the two of you need is a good conversation.” 

You must have said the last part out loud. “What does it matter, even if we have a conversation and he moves back in I will end up having nightmares and keep him up for weeks. It is not fair for him to suffer through that for me.” 

“Ugh!” Uraraka shoves you off her chest and stands. “Both of you keep pushing each other away based on some convoluted idea that you are actually protecting each other. It makes me want to pull my hair out!

You cross your arms over your chest, “Well I am protecting him.” 

She rolls her eyes, “Sure.” 

“Hey, don’t make me regret teaching you sarcasm. I’m being serious, my nightmares were getting so bad I started to attack him in my sleep.” 

“No offense but Bakugou can handle you with his hands tied behind his back.” 

“But he shouldn’t have to! It is not fair for him to have to worry if his fiancé will attack him in his sleep every night.” 

“News flash, life is not fair. It was not fair when I watched the love of my life get skewered in front of me. It was not fair when I could not look at him for weeks without crying. And it was not fair when Mimic tortured you. None of this is fair or just, it is all shit we are given and sometimes it is more than we can handle.” 

She holds your chin in her hands, “The only thing you are doing wrong is pushing away the person who you need the most.” 

“But I hurt him when he is close,” you argue weakly. 

Uraraka’s eyes softened, “You hurt him more when you push him away. His quirk is not mind reading, he has no idea how to help you, how you can both help each other.” 

You knew she was right, that what you were doing was not working. But you were stuck, unsure how to even start talking to him again. Even so, you had to try. 

“Alright, I will try giving him a call-” 

Behind you, Uraraka’s phone rang, its piercing ring tone cutting you off. Your heart sinks, that ring tone only went off when a hospital was calling. Without a word, Uraraka bends down and picks up her phone from the floor. 

“Hello, this is Uravity speaking,” she said into the phone. 

You watch her face for clues and your heart grew even heavier as worry danced in her eyes. 

“Are you going to transfer him to the Hero’s hospital in Tokyo?” 

Your breathing stops. No, the world could not be so cruel. Your hearing grows fuzzy making it impossible to tune into the rest of Uraraka’s conversation.

“Hey,” someone said in the background. “Hey, I need you to focus. Bakugou is hurt, I am not next of kin so they won’t tell me anything about his condition. I am going to drive us over to the hospital, he should already be there by the time we arrive” 

You nod, too stunned to speak. He was hurt. Your Bakugou was hurt and you were just standing around. Ignoring the pain in your chest your mind finally snapped into action. 

Wordlessly you and Uraraka rushed down to her car below. The drive to the Hero’s hospital was short, only a few blocks from your apartment. The front entrance was already packed full of reporters trying to catch a glimpse of your injured hero. 

You bite your tounge to stop yourself from cursing the reporters out. Those nosy assholes wanted to broadcast Bakugou’s pain to the public for a quick buck. Luckily disappeared from your sight as Uraraka drove past the and into the private parking lot. 

Uraraka had not even put the car in park when you shoved open the door and ran to the sliding doors. You could hear her yell to wait behind you but you kept running until you found the front desk. 

You skid to a stop in front of a shocked receptionist and slam your palms down on the counter, “Where are they taking Hero Dynamight?” You ask, holding your hero license out so she would know you were not a reporter. 

The receptionist winced, “I am sorry but only allowed to disclose information to the family of the patient.” 

“Well I am his wife and I am demanding to know where he is.” You retort, not caring about the implications of the claim. 

“Dynamight is not married, his paperwork states he is a single but nice try.” 

“Listen here you-” your rant was cut short by a soft hand on your shoulder. 

“It was a private ceremony, they have still not made it public yet so there is now paperwork. I know that is not protocol but won’t you please let it slide this once ” Uraraka smiles sweetly trying to play cute to get what she wants.

The receptionist shook her head, “ I am sorry but I cannot allow anyone who is not documented family to visit any patient.” 

You open your mouth to yell but Uraraka beats you to it. 

“That is fine, thank you for doing such a great job protecting our heroes.” She gently grabs your bicep and pulls you away from the desk before you could say another word. 

“What are you doing she is our only way of figuring out anything about Bakugou.” You hiss trying to pry yourself free from her hold. 

“No she’s not,” Uraraka turns her head to look at you and smiles. “I spent a few weeks coming in and out of this hospital while Deku was recovering. Going through the main entrance is the easiest way but there is a locked side door. With enough force, it can be wiggle open.” 

“Won’t it have an alarm?” 

“Of course it has an alarm this is a heavily secured building. Luckily they have a well-trained hero there to investigate the disturbance,” she winked. 

You laugh, being a hero did have its perks. It only took a few more turns before she found the small door. 

“Now when I open this door a blaring alarm will go off and two security guards will come rushing from either end. I will handle the one on this side but you will be on your own for the other. Try not to hurt them too much.” 

With that Uraraka wraps her hand around the door handle and pulls, her arm muscles bulging from the effort. You stand still, stunned to watch your friend pry open the solid steel door.

The door finally gives sending out a blaring alarm but you had already made it past the first couple hallways, hiding in a small doorway as a guard runs past. You wait another minute to make sure the coast is clear besides casually walking down the hallway until you found a nurse’s station.

“Excuse me,” you say, trying to sound as polite as possible. “The front desk told me to ask you which room my husband is in.” 

The oldest nurse looked you up and down skeptically, “What is your husband’s name?” 

“Bakugou Katsuki.” 

“Uh-hu sure, wait here a minute for me while I go find his nurse.” She turned and disappeared into the room behind the station.

Fuck, she was onto you. You slowly walk backward away from the door’s line of sight and rush down the hallway looking desperately for Bakugou. He had to be here somewhere but the hospital was a maze of hallways and doors with no names on them. 

You could not yell out for him that would only alert security to your position faster. You spin on your heels looking frantically for any sign of him but the more you look, the more lost you become. 

“Hey! You cannot be back here,” A security guard yelled, a taser already armed in his hand. 

You put your hands into the air, looking to your side for an escape. You could handle one petty security guard but you did not feel like explaining to the commission why you beat a guard. Sucking in a deep breath you run towards the officer who was too shocked to pull the trigger on the taser. Sticking your leg out you kick his feet out from under him sending his back to the floor. 

Without looking back you run down the hall taking as many turns as you could to find a hiding spot. One of these rooms had to have no camera in it. 

In your frantic looking, one door stood out. It was off to the left in a dead-end hallway. It had to be a good enough hiding spot as any. You sprint to the door and swing the door open into a pitch-black room. 

You felt bile rise in your throat at the thought of entering the darkness but you had no choice, security was hot on your heels. You close your eyes and step into the darkness, closing the door behind you. 

Your back rests against the door and you listen to the guards run past the hallway. For now they had no idea where you were. You let out a sigh of relief and feel around the wall for a light switch. 

Mercifully, you find it and switch it on. The room looked like any other hospital room except for one thing. There was someone in the bed and they were about to look up. 

Shit! You duck under one of the tables in time to hide from their view. 

“Oi, I thought I told you people to leave me alone! I already took the damn pills and agreed to stay the night.” 

Your breathing stops at the deep rough voice of Bakugou. You found him; he is not in a coma fighting for his life. He is in bed resting safely just feet away from you. A sob of relief climbs your throat, and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to mute it. 

The rush of blinding fear to find Bakugou suddenly turns into fear about seeing him. What if he did not want you to visit? Fuck you should have thought about this more before you left. 

“I can hear your breathing! Don’t make me get out of bed or I will kick your ass.” 

Not wanting him to hurt himself by standing you relent and force your weak knees up. You keep your eyes to the floor not daring to look at his face, “Surprise,” you tease weakly. 

“W-what?” Bakugou said, his voice high and full of confusion. 

“I-I heard you got hurt, no one was telling me anything, so I decided to come and check up on you myself. But I see you are fine so I will leave you alone. I am sorry for barging in.” 

“Wait! Don’t leave,” Bakugou winces as he sits up in bed, his abdomen covered in bandages. Instantly you rush to his bedside. 

“Don’t move that fast you will hurt yourself!” You lecture, gently pushing him back down to the bed. Bakugou looks down at your hands with shock, you had not touched him caringly since the incident. 

You quickly realized your hands were still on him and snatch them back to your side. You stand there awkwardly, unsure what to do. It was like the months of being together had been erased since he had left. 

“W-what happened?” You finally ask to break the silence. 

Bakugou looks down at his hands, “Some stupid kid ran out in the middle of the fight and almost got themselves killed. I didn’t have enough time to get them out of the way, so I had to shield them instead. Damn villain managed to shoot me.” 

“You got shot!” 

“Yeah, pathetic asshole knew he could not take me without a gun. Lucky for me he had terrible aim and managed to only graze my side. The only reason I am still in this stupid bed is because Rescue Girl is on vacation and refuses to come in and heal me.” 

The heavy weight on your heart lifted slightly knowing he was not seriously hurt but you still worried about his current condition. Bakugou was not one to sit around until he felt better. In the time the two of you had been together he only got sick once and it took tackling him to the ground and tying him up in bed to keep him from working. 

You knew him and Deku were on good terms now but dealing with a hurt Bakugou was a full-time job. “How long did the doctor say you have to be off work?” 

Bakugou scoffed, “She thinks I have to wait at least a week even with Recovery Girl. As soon as I can escape this bed I will head back to the office I have a villain to hunt down.” 

You put your hands on your hips, “Oh no you won’t. If the doctor tells you to wait a week you will wait a week.” 

A mischievous grin spreads across Bakugou’s face, “Oh, and how are you going to enforce that?” 

Blood rushes to your face making your cheeks feel like they were burning. To keep him from fighting his restraints the last time he was sick you had to fuck him until he was too tired to care he was chained up. By the time he had recovered from being sick you could barely walk and he had to be the one to take care of you.

“Don’t look at me like that when you are hurt.” 

“Then answer the question, how do you plan to keep me from working this week.” 

“What are you five? Do you really need an incentive to be good?” You taunt. 

A wolfish grin spread across his face, “Yes.” 

You throw your hands up in the air, “Ugh, you are terrible!” 

His hand reaches out and grabs your wrist to pull you in closer to the bed and for a second fear flashes in your eyes. All of the teasing had made you forget your fear but his touch brought is all back. 

Bakugou sensed the change in your demeanor and opened his hand to free you from his touch. 

“Wait, don’t move your hand,” you suck in a deep breath. “Just give me a second.” 

His warm long fingers wrapped themselves back around your wrist, holding still as you try to calm your heart. You were stronger than this fear. You could do this. 

“Baby, you don’t have to push yourself, I understand-” 

“No!’ You yell, taking a step closer to his bed. “This is ok, I will make this ok again.” 

You avoid looking at his face, needing to build up your strength before testing your limits. Being separated from him had helped your memories heal some but it was still difficult to see him. 

Forcing the tight fear in your chest down you intertwined your fingers through his and pull them up to your lips, gently kissing his knuckles.

“It is easier when I control where you touch,” you mumble to him, trying to follow Uraraka’s advice. 

“What?” Bakugou asked, unsure what you meant. 

“When you are the one controlling the touching, it makes me nervous because I don’t know what will happen next. It makes me feel like I have no control and that is when I start to freak out.” 

You look down to where your hands were joined, “When I am leading the touch I have some idea of what will happen next and it is easier to not feel scared.” 

“So you have to be in charge?” 

“I don’t have to always be in charge, I just need to know what you are thinking, what you are doing before you do it or I need to be guiding it.” 

Bakugou smiled, “So if I told you to sit on my face would that work?” 

A few incoherent words fall out of your mouth as you try to process what he just said. 

“Well, maybe, but you are hurt and need your rest. Besides, you should not be thinking about that while you are lying in a hospital bed. When you are discharged, we can try something like that.” 

Bakugou sat up straighter, “Oh no you don’t. I have gone without your taste on my tongue for too long. You are going to get that sweet ass over here and sit on my face.” 

“No, Bakugou. Look at the state of you. I could seriously hurt you.” 

That was the absolute worst thing you could have said, in seconds his teasing eyes filled with fiery determination. The last time he gave you that look was when you rejected going on a date with him. A week later he had your legs wrapped around his waist. 

He lifts his finger and points to you and then his face, “Come here.” 

You stubbornly shake your head, “This is not happening Bakugou. You could tear your stitches and have to stay in the hospital even longer.”

He shrugs, “Fine with me as long as you are here.” 

This damn man must be suicidal. “We need to talk more about our relationship before we dive right into sex.” 

“Your mouth will be free and clear to talk.” 

“This is an awful idea. What if I get freaked out in the middle of it all?” 

“That’s easy, we stop,” he gently pulls you in closer his face now only inches away. 

“Please baby I have missed you; I promise I will stop if it gets too much.”

You were conflicted. Neither of you were in a state where you should be fooling around. But the feel of his hand on yours was so calming and warm that you wanted more. 

“Alright,” you whisper. “But If you are in any pain you need to let me know.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I promise. Now get that pretty ass up here,” he pats his shoulders. 

“This is such a bad idea,” you mumble to yourself as you slip off your pants while Bakugou lowered the head of the bed. This could go wrong in so many ways but the longer you thought about his tongue on you the less you cared. 

“Fuck baby,” Bakugou groaned, “Climb up, you won’t hurt me.” 

You toss your pants to the side and do as he said. Climbing up onto his bed and carefully lowering yourself over his face. Your face was burning at the thought of what all he could see. Needing support, you grab ahold of the headboard. After all you did not want to hurt him. Bakugou was not having that. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you down until you had no choice but to rest your weight on his face. 

“Wait, you could hurt yourself,” you protested breathlessly. 

He only laughed, his hot breath teasing your aching cunt. He sat still under you for a few minutes letting you get adjusted to the feeling of his touch, and it let him soak in the sight of you above him. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled against the soft skin of your thighs. Not wanting to move too fast he first places a few sloppy kissing along with your inner thigh, giving you ample time to mentally prepare for his mouth on your cunt. 

You try to stop yourself from shaking but it was impossible. It had been months since someone had touched you and to have Bakugou beneath you, ready to worship your body, was almost too much for your brain to process. 

Bakugou’s mouth teased your other thigh before settling on your already soaking wet pussy.

“That’s my good girl, already wet for me. This pretty pussy knows who it belongs to, but does its owner?” 

“Bakugou stop talking to my pussy and get to work,” you growl. 

“Tsk, when did you become so greedy?” The hands on your thighs shift around until they were able to spread open your sex giving him complete access to you.

“You are lucky I miss this just as much as you do or I would tease you for hours. Tie your ass to the bed and not let you leave until neither of us could move.” 

You rock your hips trying to egg him on, “Sounds to me like you are all talk.” 

The hands on your thighs tighten forcing you to put all your weight onto his face. You try to pull yourself up, not wanting to suffocate your boyfriend but he refuses and goes straight for the kill. His soft wet tongue drags a straight line up the slit of your cunt, gathering up your juices. 

Your hands abandon the headboard and thread through his hair. Bakugou groaned, settling into feasting on your cunt. His soft lips slide through your folds, looking for your hidden button. 

“Ah please Bakugou,” you beg, “it feels so good.” 

You could feel his smile against your skin before his mouth latches onto your throbbing clit, dragging it into his mouth. 

While his lips teased your clit, one hand left your thigh to snake around under you. You lurch forward as two thick fingers slip through your folds, wetting themselves in your slick before they gently press at your entrance. 

Your hips buck away from the combined sensations fearing to be too much but Bakugou was not having it, he strengthened his hold on your thighs and pushed you down on his fingers. You sob at the feeling of being stretched, it had been so long the burn was more intense than normal. 

“Fuck baby you are so tight around my fingers, I can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,” he groaned. 

“Bakugou,” you whined. “You can’t just say things like that.” 

He releases your clit with a pop, “Like what? Like how I want to feast on this pussy until you are all I can taste for weeks. Like how by the time I am done with you, you will be a sobbing mess that I will have to take care of. Just listen to this sloppy pussy take my fingers. Fuck baby people would kill for even a sliver of this cunt but too bad for them it is all mine.” 

You shove a fist in your mouth to stifle a loud moan. The last thing either of you needed was someone barging in. 

Bakugou pulled your aching bud back between his lips and got to work. The two fingers inside you started to pump, curling to hit your sweet spot each time they were inside you. His delicious tongue flicked up and down on your clit driving you mad. 

Trusting you would not run away he releases your other thigh and reaches under your shirt. His large hand stroked up your stomach, caressing the skin there before latching onto one of your nipples. He pinches the soft peak between his fingers, rolling it until it pebbles. You arch your back into his hand and start to rock your hips wanting more. 

Bakugou moans into your cunt, able to tell you were growing lost in the pleasure. He loved it when you were too engrossed with feeling good to care about anything except him. 

Looking down in between your legs you could see his light blonde hair peeking out from the apex of your thighs and had a devilish idea. 

“Bakugou stick out your tongue,” you order. 

He releases you from his mouth and looks up, his chin soaking with your juices, “What?” 

“Stick out your tongue, like this,” You show him with your own mouth. 

A spark of recognition flashed in his eyes and he smiled. Good, he liked the idea too. With no delay, his tongue stuck out of his mouth. You reach down and spread yourself open, settling back over Bakugou’s eager tongue. His fingers abandon you in favor of holding onto your ass while you dig your fingers into his hair. 

With both of you settled you slowly begin to rock your hips, riding his tongue. You start off slowly, watching closely for any sign Bakugou was not comfortable but judging by his growl of pleasure you would say he is just fine. 

A red hot warmth started to grow in the lower half of your body, slowly spreading its tingle to your lower belly. Fuck, the image of Bakugou beneath you, letting your ride his face was almost too much to process. 

“Oh god Bakugou,” you moan. “Please, it feels so good.” 

He could only groan in response, his mouth too busy bringing you to your peak. When you looked down at him between your legs you could only see his bright lust filled eyes. They were intensely watching you fall apart. 

White spots started to grow in your vision and you increase the speed of your thrusts. The fingers in his hair tighten, now holding onto him for dear life. It only took a few more rocks of your hips before the white spots grew into a blinding white light.

Overwhelming waves crashed into you, sending glorious pleasure pulsing through you. Your body was not your own as the electricity ran through you making every muscle grow taunt and release in a never-ending cycle. 

Bakugou redoubled his effort, not letting you even finish your first peak before he was building you up to another. The idea that you would feel that pleasure again was enough to make you mad. 

His fingers slipped into your clenching entrance and curled forward, teasing your sweet spot. His lips returned to your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth and lashing at the tender bud with his tongue. 

You release his hair, afraid you will rip it out, and hold onto the headboard as all the clenching tension finally releases, sending you spiraling. Loud wanton moans ripped from your throat and you could do nothing to stop them. 

Bakugou toyed with you until you could no longer hold yourself upright. Only then did he gently lift you off his face and down onto his lap. You slouch over and rest your forehead on his shoulder. The world around you was fuzzy, your mind still reeling from how hard you finished. 

“Wait, Bakugou you are not supposed to be lifting anything!” You yell when your mind finally returns to reality. 

“Tsk, I already told you I am fine.” 

You fought the urge to slap him, “You idiot what if you had busted open your stitches!” 

“You did not seem too worried about that when you were rubbing your cunt on my tongue.” 

“Well, obviously I was not thinking straight,” you mumble. Damn him for being right. 

Bakugou gives you a sly smile, “You know I am feeling a little sore.” 

Regret slams into you, “Damn it Bakugou, I was worried this would happen. Where are you hurting.”

His hips thrust upwards forcing his rock-hard cock against your ass. “Right there baby.”

You flick your finger against his forehead, “I was really worried you asshole.”  

“But it aches, won’t you make it feel better?” 

“You are lucky you are hot,” you whisper into his ear before carefully descending his body. You settle in between his legs, pulling down the blankets to free his cock. 

You have to stop and stare at it. Everything about your boyfriend had to be perfect. His cock was long and proud, resting on his stomach with a small tuft of blonde pubic hair at the base. His cock had one large vein running up the length of it, pulsing with each heartbeat. God, you wanted to trace that vein with your tongue. 

Reaching up you wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He was so warm on your hand, like your own personal space heater. You shuffle your body to get your mouth a little close to his cock and then before he could say anything bring the head of his cock into your mouth. 

His reaction was instant, his hands shot down to grab at the sheets beside your head. You could feel his hips flex under you as he fought the urge to thrust up into your mouth. 

Feeling emboldened by his reaction you relaxed the muscles in your jaw and took more of his length into your mouth. His salty flavor spilled across your tongue as he started to release pre-cum. Your poor baby had gone too long without any attention. 

Redoubling your effort you bring up your free hand and wet it with your spit. Reaching under your busy mouth you slide your finger down until you find Bakugou’s tight entrance. 

“Hey, what do you think you are doing?” Bakugou growls, grabbing your wrist. 

You let his cock fall out of your mouth and look up innocently, “I am making you feel good baby, just lay back and relax. I promise this will feel good.” 

He looked conflicted but slowly the iron-clad grip on your wrist loosened enough to set you free. Not waiting for him to change his mind you begin to circle his hole with your wet finger. Before you could even try to push your finger forward you needed him to relax. You return to teasing his aching cock with your mouth, sucking on his tip just the way he likes all the while circling your finger around his hole, waiting for him to relax enough for you to slip it in. 

As you take another inch of him into your mouth you could feel him relax enough to slip your finger slip past the tight ring of muscle. You could feel Bakugou tense so you did not move the finger forward, giving him time to adjust to the intrusion. 

With your tongue on his dick it was easy enough to distract him as you slowly inch your finger in. Once you went in far enough you twist your finger around, looking for a soft spongy spot inside him. A sharp thrust up into your mouth signaled you had found exactly what you were looking for. 

“What the fuck,” Bakugou groaned, his hands going to hide his face. You smirk, finally, you were the one driving him insane. 

You benign to move your hand and mouth on his cock in time with your finger in his ass. Small pathetic whines were leaving Bakugou’s mouth and you felt like a god. You were so engrossed in bringing him pleasure you had no time to think about anything else. 

You could hear his breathing begin to grow more labored and his cock grow even harder in your mouth. “Fuck, baby I am going to-” Was the only warning you had before his cum shot to the back of your throat. 

You swallow his release down, making sure to ease your hold on his cock, now only gently pumping your hand and finger to lengthen his orgasm. 

Slowly the pulsing of his cock stopped and you released him from your mouth, wiping the spit on your chin off with the back of your hand. You could not help but smile as you watched Bakugou slowly come back into the real world with a beautiful dazed look on his face. 

He slid his hand under your chin and lifted your head to meet his eyes, “Where the fuck did you learn that?” 

“Being away from you for this long made me desperate so I watched a couple of videos to make it easier.” 

“Right,” he said breathlessly, “You need to show me that shit later if it taught you that.”

You laugh, “Gladly. Now lay down you need your rest.” 

Bakugou tilts his head, “What the hell do you mean rest? I have not been away from you for too long, I can rest later. Now I am going to get my cock into that tight pussy.” 

“Bakugou you just finished.” 

“So,” he thrusts his hips up, rubbing his already erect cock against your ass. 

“How?” You ask in amazement. 

“I have been fantasizing about fucking you for months baby. Did you really think once would be enough to satisfy me?” 

Without waiting another minute his hands grab into your hips and lift you up. Lining your entrance up with the tip of his cock. In a flash you involuntarily tense your body, the memories of that night rushing back into your head. No, no, no, not now, not when you were so close to being one with Bakugou again. 

His bright red eyes meet yours as he feels you tense. Fuck, why did you always mess everything up, this was all your fault. Why could you not just be normal, that is what he deserved a nice normal happy girl. 

“Hey,” Bakugou whispered softly. “Talk to me, what is wrong.” 

You wanted to keep your lips shut, to pretend that everything was fine but that would be lying. You never wanted to lie to him. 

“I can’t stop thinking about Mimic. One minute I am fine and the next he is all I can see.” 

Bakugou’s eyebrows furrowed, “You were fine with what we did earlier? What triggered it?” 

You shake your head, “It is different every time. It is just hard for my mind to differentiate from my Bakugou and the one Mimic made.” 

“So call me Katsuki.” 

“Huh?” 

“If you are having a hard time with there being two Bakugou’s, then try calling me Katsuki. That way there is at least one easy way to tell me apart from him.” 

“You want me to call you by your first name?” 

His eyes softened, “Yeah baby, I want you to call me by my first name.” 

“Katsuki,” You test his name out, loving how it feels on your tongue. You watch his face to see his reaction and see lust fill his gaze. Oh he liked it.

You start to whisper his name over and over again, like a prayer to remind yourself you were no longer under Mimics thumb. You were with the man who would kill anything that tried to hurt you.

“If you keep saying my name like that baby I am going to fuck you,” Katsuki growled into your ear.

Oh would he now? You wiggle your hips, teasing the head of your cock with your dripping slit. Pulling him in close you whisper one little word, “Katsuki.”

“You asked for it,” He laughed, hauling your hips back up until they hovered over his cock.

The hands on your hips gripped down with bruising force and his cock slipped into your entrance. All the play from earlier had left you more than prepared enough to take his length. The familiar burn started as his cock sank deeper inside you, opening you wide for him.

“By the time I am finished with you, this tight cunt is going to be fucking dripping in my cum. I am going to fill you to the fucking brim.”

A low groan was your only response he bottomed out inside you, his cock leaving no space unfilled. You could damn near feel him in the back of your throat. Normally he would be the one to initiate thrusting but you were growing too impatient.

Bracing your hands on his chest, careful to avoid his bandages, you lift your hips up until only the tip of his cock was inside. Then you slam your hip down, marveling at the feel of him entering you again.

His cock was perfect for hitting all the sweet spots inside you. Not wanting to be left out Katsuki grab ahold of your ass and uses his own strength to strengthen each thrust.  

You look down to where you both were joined and almost came on the spot. The sight of his cock pistoning into you was mind-shattering. He looked like a god beneath you. His large muscles building with effort, the thick veins in his arms standing elevated.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his bright red eyes filled with determination. “Right now you are mine, that means the only thing you are allowed to think about is me. About how good my cock feels splitting you open. Is that clear?”

You weakly nod your head, too overwhelmed to speak. A soft smile spreads across his face, “That is my baby, so good for me.”

His praise felt like a caress on your skin. You needed to distract yourself or this would end too soon. You lean forward and press your lips onto his. His tongue glided along the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You happily opened your mouth allowing his tongue to slip inside. The taste of his spit was mixed with your own flavor, and you still had some of his taste on your tongue. The combined flavor was so fucking lewd and hot.

The familiar tingled started to grow in your pussy, you were not going to last long. The muscles in your legs begin to tremble making your thrusts grow sloppy. Katsuki was not having it. His hips rose to meet yours, forcing your body to endure even more pleasure all the while he toyed with your mouth.

It all became too much, the different sensations all worked together to drive you up, higher and higher you were climbing until it was hard to even breathe. Then, just like that, all the pressure released sending you spiraling.

Your pussy clamped down on his cock, forcing Katsuki to erupt. The thought of him filling you only lengthened the brutal pleasure filling your mind. There was no room in your mind for anything but him. You had no care in the world but him just like he ordered. 

As the pulses of pleasure slowed you were able to finally catch your breath. You both laid still in each others arms for a few minutes, letting you come slowly back to earth. Of all the times the two of you fucked this definitely had to be in the top three. Though they did say that makeup sex was the best. 

“How are you feeling?” Katsuki asked, his voice rough. 

You rest your ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, “I feel good.” 

He places a soft kiss on your forehead, “Do you think you are ready for me to come home?” 

You take the time to think about it. Having him back in your life did not set off fear like it used to. Instead, it made you feel warm inside. You looked forward to going to bed with him instead of dreading it. 

“Yeah,” you smile. “Yeah, I am.” 

The arms around your waist tighten pulling you impossibly closer to his chest. You snuggle in closer, getting comfortable. Katsuki would never admit it but lying here with you in his arms safe and happy was one of the happiest moments in his life. 

Neither of you was healed from what had happened but you refused to push him away again. You will get past what happened and you will do it with him by your side. 

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 06 —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

‘‘ I swear I am going to have someone beat your ass Park Jimin!’’

‘‘ It’s not my fucking fault! I broke up with her but you lead her to the apartment  knowing she’ll follow!’‘

‘‘ Damn it Jimin im going to kick your ass!’‘

Your eyes pop open just in time to see Jungkook on-top of Jimin hitting him repeatedly on the face while Jimin manages to push him off of him and begin his fist fight against him. He straddles Jungkook to the floor and punches are thrown left and right. Now the sudden headache of seeing the two brothers fight has began in your head and you cannot stand hearing the groaning and yelling between them. Bringing your hand up to signal them to stop, you realize they don’t even know you’ve awakened.

 Jungkook on the other hand is not having it so he throws Jimin off of him harshly making Jimin groan. The way he grabs Jimin’s collar with venom fast strength finally gives you the courage to yell out to them.

‘‘ Stop! Damn it, you two are like literal fucking teenagers. Act your age!”

The both of them turn their heads toward you slowly. Jungkook drops his fist, which was going to connect with Jimin’s face. You take a good look at them. Freshly bruised from each-other. Great.

‘‘ You think fighting is going to solve this problem huh? Get over here now.” You say, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

Jungkook gives Jimin a death glare before rushing to your side and feeling your forehead. You slap his hand away and pull him down by his shirt only for him to recieve a harsh slap to the forehead.

‘‘ Shit!” He stumbles back and rubs his forehead. He shoots you a glare, wanting to yell at you but doesn’t.  You motion for Jimin to come to you too. He raises his eyebrows in amusement.

‘‘ I don’t think it’s necessary for you to do that..” He says, as if your death glare towards him isn’t enough to tell him you aren’t joking whatsoever.

He gets the memo when you disregard his comments before hanging his head low and bending down a little to your height. One slap against the forehead and two across the wrists.

‘‘ That’s for you fighting He was only looking out for me. The last two were for having a psychotic girlfriend who almost killed me. Look at my wrist!’‘

You hold them out to see two I.V’s, one for blood transfusion and the other a regular for nutrients on your right wrist. Both of them bandaged up which does need to be changed because of the old blood.

‘‘ I know and I’m sorry. I didn’t know she would be this upset.’‘ Jimin says, hanging his head low. Jungkook rolls his eyes at him out of annoyance.

‘‘ Whatever. I already called my lawyer for your case. Since Isabel tried to attempt murder to you, you will win this case for sure.’‘ He proudly leans against the wall hoping to atleast crack a smile from you.

You don’t smile though. The last thing you need is another scandal. If this were to make the news and blogs right now then it could be a bad thing. You’ve just started your modeling career again and right now would be the worst time to have something like that. 

Jimin leans on the wall with his hands in his pockets, still avoiding locking eyes with you which is something he usually does. Something tells you that he’s hiding something. Something that you just can’t put your finger on.

‘‘ The police will come shortly for witness statements and your statement. Then they’ll call for a court date as soon as possible.’‘ Jimin’s voice low, illuminating with a hint of sadness.

Out of curiosity you want to say something more. To ask him whats going on and why he’s acting rather like this. It’s really not like him. He’s hiding something for sure and you just cannot put your finger on it. You just agree and pull out your phone. A missed call from Ryan. You try texting her and she almost always responds immediately. This time she doesn’t. What’s really going on?

You don’t know but Ryan took it upon herself to pay Isabel a visit. Usually visitors aren’t allowed for people in holding but with a little sweet talk of hers she got to get atleast 10 minutes to talk. That’s all she needs. When it comes to you, her bestfriend, she never messes around. Hearing the news from Jungkook yesterday she almost went luncatic. Throwing things at him, calling his brother every disrespectful name in the book. Oh she hates him now for sure.

Jungkook had to stop her from going over to the hospital to beat his ass into a bloody pulp for causing you pain and getting together with that crazy girl just to break up with her. Ryan was heated. 

But now she can take this heat and serve some to Isabel right now. She walks with confidence into the room. Nothing and nobody can stop her and if they even try, she’ll chew them up and spit them out. Catching a glimpise of Isabel sitting at the table with her hands cuffed and security next to her, Ryan shoots her a devious glare.

‘‘ What brings you here? I expected my boyfr-’‘

A harsh slam from her hands hit the table as she bends a little to her seated level, ‘‘ He’ not your fucking boyfriend. You were lucky I wasn’t there to beat your fucking ass.”

The guard tenses up at the sounds and sudden movements. Ryan notices, and decides to take her seat to calm down before she’s the one sitting behind the jail bars too. 

‘‘ Ryan.. I thought we were friends?’‘ She frowns, pouting her lips while fake wiping tears away. 

Ryan scoffs,shaking her head ever so slowly with a devilish grin on her face. “ We aren’t. Don’t let me catch you un-attended without your manager or body guard.. Isabel.’’

Isabel laughs one of her evil laughs, throwing her head back then coming back up, “ Oh how cute. Is this a threat from little ol’ you? Me and Jimin were doing just fine before your bestfriend had decided to enter his life again. I’m not the only bad guy here. She should know boundaries for taken men. Ex’s aren’t supposed to be firendly and lovey dovey. Spending nights and going everywhere with each other. Especially when one’s a famous idol with another idol girlfriend. Do I make myself clear?”

“ Maybe you should take that up with your hoe of a boyfriend. He’s the one who can’t leave her alone.” She yells, inches away from Isabel’s face. The two stare at each other long and hard. Isabel is no match for Ryan though.

The guard clears his throat to break the two’s glares. The tension is thick in the air.

“ If you ever touch yn again, I’ll make sure you’re the one in the hospital this time around.”

‘‘ You’ll all see. I’ll win this court case. Trust me… there’s things you do not know.” 

Ryan rolls her eyes, strutting her way out the room with the sound of her heels clicking right behind her. Consider the message recieved. 

It’s been one week after the situation. In which in between those days you were dismissed from the hospital and have been in at Jimin’s house ever since. You didn’t want to be here. You want to be at home with your cat, Clara. Jungkook’s been going over to feed and play with her. Jimin kept pleading for you not to return home just yet because it could be a danger to you. It makes sense. You never know what Isabel has up her sleeve. 

So you’ve been sitting here doing the same old thing everyday. Eat, watch movies and netflix tv shows,  sleep, and repeat.

Jimin would come in and out of his home studio to check in on you. He still has to work on producing and singing his songs. He’d bring the food and your medicine he prepared per usual,  kiss your forehead, and go right back out to producing his highly anticipated album.

It all seems fake to you. Something is off. Something is not being told to you. You can feel it in your gut but can’t put a finger on it.

‘‘ This is so cliche.’‘ You murmur to yourself, switching the flat-screen T.V off.

And as if on cue Jimin comes inside your- well his room with a glass of water and prescribed pain killers for you. The slight smile on his face makes you want to smile but you don’t.

‘‘ Smile for ocne yn. Do you not like staying here?’‘ He says, sitting next to you on the side of the bed and places the glass in your hands.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, taking the two pills out of his palm. “ No.. but be honest with me Jimin okay?”

His face turns a quick shade of pink then pale as if you had said the wrong choice of words at the wrong time. As if he had seen a ghost at this very moment. That’s not a good sign at all.

‘‘ Are you.. hiding something from me?’‘

The atmosphere is thick and silence fills the room. You don’t say anything and he doesn’t either. Your eyes meet his and for once they don’t pull away first. 

Jimin doesn’t know how to break it to you though. It’s now or never.

‘‘ She will never leave me.”

You bite your lip hard, “ What do you mean?”

“ That she said that she’d do everything to ruin our relationship if we continue to persue one. She’d spready rumors about you to Dispatch. Make a scene whenver you’re near me. Anything she can do, she will do it.”

You don’t know how to take this all in. You knew Isabel was possesive but not this possesive. The thought of her doing things on purpose for you to make everyone hate you makes you want to cry. To just bawl your eyes out right here right now. You can’t.. you won’t do it. 

You won’t give in because thats what she wants. To make you cry. To ruin your reputation and work. Jimin came back into your life and of course you don’t know what to do or how to deal with it. But this is what you wanted right? You’ve been longing for you and him to get a second chance. It’s you. You’re the one who’s been putting things off and not letting things go with the flow. Maybe he came back to you because he realized how wrong he was for cheating on you. For leaving you behind. For not seeing things for truly how it is. 

You knew Isabel was bad luck from the beginning. Now is the time to try and take back what was originally yours. That will hurt her more than ever. 

“ She needs to have a reality check. Not everything revolves around her.”

‘‘ I agree. Putting her behind bars might give her a reality check. It should serve her right for harming people.” Jimin sighs. 

The silence is thick. You both don’t know what to say and it’s sure as hell awkward more than ever right now. Until that silence breaks. 

‘‘ I feel like you aren’t being your true self to me. If we are getting things out now.” 

His sudden comment makes you lift your head up from playing with the comforter. “ What do you mean?’’

‘‘ You.. don’t want to take actions on what you feel, say, or want to do with or about me. It’s killing me inside.”

He’s right. You do try to push your feelings aside no matter what the cause is. It’s just you trying to not set yourself up for hearbreak again. You do want him. You do want everything to do with him. Considering the things that happened in the past, it’s no doubt theres a fence guarding your heart from intruders. 

You exhale out heavily, “ Im just.. scared.’’

‘‘ Of? “

‘‘ Being hurt again.”

Dead silence again. This time he’s the one trying to come up with words to redirect your view of him. Yes, he broke your heart in the worst way possible. He wants you to see he’s changed. 

Jimin bites his lip, voice shaky when he begins talking again. ‘‘ How can I show you that i’m not the same anymore. Im not I promise you. I want you to see I have changed. I know it’s my fault. I destroyed you but let me fix it.”

It’s all come down to this. You’ve wanted this and now is the chance to get it. Now is the chance to have what was once yours. But the feeling of doubt had taken its course on you at the worst time.

‘‘ Jimin.. how do I know that for sure?’‘ You say, unintentionally fluttering your eyes at him. To you it’s to prevent from letting tears fall. 

Jimin see’s it as that specific thing you used to do when you wanted him. When you craved him and would drop hints. To be completely honest, you do crave him. You do want him. Make-up sex was something you two used to do often. It was your toxic way of saying im sorry. 

Somehow you want to put that toxic thing into action right now. As fucked up as it is, that’s how you two know you’re sorry towards each other. Actions speak louder than words. 

He closes his eyes for a quick second before clenching his jaw to contain himself. Your weak spot.

‘‘ Stop doing that. Unless you want to start something you don’t want to finish.” 

You smile just a little, hoping he’d get the memo. “ What if I do want to start and finish it..”

As if a car alarm went off, Jimin’s eyes pop back open with a suprised look. That’s the last thing he’d thought he’d be hearing from you. “ Are you sure about that? I mean we don’t have t-”

You lean in closer to where you guys are inches apart, his lips softly rubbing against yours. “ I’m all for it.”

Within seconds, Jimin’s shirt is removed off of you only revealing your blue panties which have became a little soaked with your wetness. He takes in the scent of you before his mouth connects with your thighs, slightly sucking to leave bruises on you.

‘‘ Jimin.. don’t tease me.”  You sigh, laying fully down to spread your legs even more. He hums against your skin making you catch chills up and down your spine.

‘‘ That’s my specialty baby. You know that.” He trails a kiss with each word all the way down to your core where he dips a finger inside. You tense up attempting to close your legs. He doesn’t allow it, spreading them open harshly again. 

‘’ Jimin-’‘ You barely utter before he begins to move his fingers in and out of you slowly. You let out a whine to try and make him go faster but it doesn’t work.

He comes up to your mouth and plants a wet, sloppy kiss. “ No whining. You’re gonna get what you want. Just relax baby.”

Is all he tells you before he goes back down to your core to tend to your desires.

The first lick between your legs is ever so gentle. Too gentle for you right now considering that you want release badly and Jimin knew exactly that. He opens his mouth and swirls his tongue up and down your slit. A groan leaves his mouth once he gets a taste of you which sends a vibration to your sensitive bud.

Each time his tongue laps against you your body jerked and shook but that only makes his tongue go faster. Sending you into a moaning and groaning mess as you tug on his hair.

“Mmh you even taste the same like always.” He moans with a smirk.

“Jimin please-” you cry out, locking your fingers into his hair when a finger is inserted into your dripping wet hole.

‘‘ No whining babygirl.’‘ His voice gentle as ever when he removes the finger inside of you making you pout a little. But that pout soon turned into your eyes becoming wide when he starts to take off his shirt, then grey sweatpants, then his underwear where his thick cock springs up.

Your eyes can’t leave his body. God it’s been a while. He looks pretty damn good. You wan’t to take all of his length in your mouth right now. To hear him praise you about how good your mouth feels against him. God you want it right now. 

He gives it a few strokes before walking over to you. Just before hovering over you, he gives you a passionate kiss while lifting up your legs and positioning them to his liking. Missionary.

The tip of him pokes at the entrance of you, teasing in and out. Soon enough he enters you slowly making both of you moan together.

You still wrap and fit around his member smug as ever, and he could not believe it. The feeling of familiarity of being inside you sends him into a moaning mess with each stroke. You can’t contain your moans and screams. He feels way too good. 

Jimin begins to deep-stroke you by pulling all the way out and slamming back in. You scream his name out in pleasure as your nails scratch up his toned back. Wet sounds fill the room with him picking up his pace. You take a glimpse of him only to admire his figure right now. Forehead forming sweat beads while he groans and moans biting his plump pink lips.

Your breathing becomes faster when that familiar feeling soon starts to take over. You turn your head to the side and let out a string of moans. Jimin isn’t having that though. His hand grabs your face gently and makes you make eye contact with him. Your legs start shaking as your head tilts back moans getting more faster. You finally let out one last one in sync with him, his hot sperm shoots inside of you.

Jimin pulls out, breathing heavily and collapses ontop of you. You let out a small grunt with the sudden extra body upon you, then giggle at him when he lays his head lays against your chest. This is what you wanted. He’s true. He’s sorry. 

‘’ I love you.”

That word surprises you. You weren’t prepared for it. Somehow though, you enjoy the fact that he’s said it to you. Love. Jimin’s love. Your love. 

‘’ I love you much more Jimin.’’ 

[lethargicsunlight]

Dabi XSpookyQuirk!Reader 'Phantasmagoria' (Part 4)

Another oneshot, and continuation of the SpookyQuirk!Reader series!

Please see my Directory for the other Parts to this series : Link

I'm organizing these tonight, I swear. Actually, I need to redo ALL of my stuff. lol

This is happing shortly after Part 3, and is more of a mini.

WARNINGS: phantasmal injury (burning), SFW, FLUFF, PINING.

━━━━━━━━━𝕯𝖆𝖇𝖎 ━━━━━━━━━

At first, it was just the taste of ash on your tongue.

Literally, like you had licked the bottom of a fireplace--or as though you had left the marshmallow in the fire too long and ate it anyway.

But soon, things escalate.

Like you were waking up in an inferno, and everything was just engulfed in white hot agony--scorching across every surface of your being. You knew it was fire, it was burning; but as though your nervous system couldn't calculate the right amount of pain to distribute, it also felt like falling into a frozen lake. Everything was sharp. Every nerve ending was screaming.

Some inner voice tells you not to open your eyes, but you do anyway. With some resemblance of a rebellious nature at the corners of your consciousness, like you could tell this was a dream, but who you were wasn't you.

It's unfortunate, though, because even with your eyes open--all you see is blue. A bright cerulean ocean of heat and violence.

----

When you awake, your body had jolted upright. It spasmed with a chill, and you fisted the sheets while your chest heaved--desperate for air.

You could swear you still smelled smoke.

You calm down, looking around the room, focusing on the texture of the bedding.

"...Well, that's a new one." You say, then swallow the panic for good.

You were pretty familiar with bad dreams. Seeing corpses walking around as a kid had quite the effect on your sleeping schedule. (As did the medications prescribed by your psychologists)

But, with the eventual understanding and then development of your quirk--random blood-soaked ghosts didn't wake you up anymore. The tendency for nightmares diminished to the normal standard. And, remarkably, they rarely involved corpses or ghosts; it was usually something living that tortured you.

But what the fuck was that?

You had been on fire--it definitely felt like you were dying--and the fire had been blue. It goes without saying that Dabi was involved, in some fashion. Perhaps that night the two of you had fought near the dock, the fire had scared you more than you realized. Maybe it was subconscious.

Or, maybe it was nothing and you were overthinking it.

There's a knock at your door, blissfully interrupting your inner debate.

"Yes?"

"Just checking in. You are usually up before this hour." Kurogiri.

There's no windows in your room, but Shigaraki had given you a cell phone when they realized you had actually joined the league, rather than being an unwilling participant in their endeavor. It was an odd exchange of trust. No windows, but you could call the authorities if you wanted.

Not that you wanted.

You tap the screen and check the time--indeed, it was a good hour past your regular schedule. It made you wonder if that nightmare had kept you asleep that whole time.

"...Yeah, sorry. Had some difficulties sleeping, I think."

"If it happens again, could I suggest some tea?"

You resist the urge to start your quirk up early. You wondered what emotion was bleeding into his aura. Would it be concern? Or was he faking it?

There was definitely something off about him, but you appreciated him nonetheless. He was a walking mass of misty purple.. stuff, so maybe his emotions didn't work like everyone else's.

"That's really nice of you. I'll let you know. I should be down in a bit," And you're already crawling out, finding your clothes.

"Understood. See you downstairs."

----

"What color is loooove?"

"Wh--" You blanche at Toga's question, peering at her with blurred vision over the glass of water you were sipping on.

"You see emotions riiight?" She asks, way too close to your face, way too loud for this time of the morning.

"Yeah," You set the glass down on the coffee table, waiting for her to continue. Don't complain, don't say anything mean, keep a little smile--don't forget to show her the drawings later, it'll keep her happy..

As much as you monologue about her creepiness, you weren't blind. Her aura bled the most melancholy of deep blues. She was the most sad when she was smiling.

"Well, then, surely you must know what the color love is right? Is it.. Pink? Red? OooH! I bet it's red like blood isn't it?" She puts her hands together, hopping and swaying her hips.

You offer a raised brow. "Why are you asking?" You lean in, feigning some interest. "Do you have a crush on someone?"

She gives an exaggerated gasp, hands flying to her mouth. "...Maybe." Then she's a giggling fit as she sits beside you, swinging side to side. "So tell me! What is it, what is it?!"

You let your shoulders follow your sigh. It's a little fun to act childish like her sometimes; even if it was demented. "Well.."

You can hear ice clinking, and your gaze slips past Toga's blonde locks to see Dabi seated at the bar. His head is tilted, just a bit, so his ear is towards you.

Well this is awkward now.

You clear your throat. It's not like this was something to hide--he didn't care. Right?

"I just want you to be okay."

You had both admitted it. Every hour since, you chest felt heavier and heavier--And, of course, you had both avoided the topic ever since. It was only a few days ago now, but there was always someone else in the room.  Thank god.

How were you even going to tackle that mountain? How would the dynamic shift?

You just didn't know how to handle it right now.

"Love doesn't really have a color. It's.. More a combination of colors. Love itself, really, is more complex than an emotion outright. There's a lot of factors involved."

"Hm?" Toga's head tilts and she looks a little disappointed. "So, how would you know if someone liked you? How do you know what all the colors even mean?! Ugh! I have so many questions!"

"Issalright, it takes a lot of practice." You try to de-escalate her excitement by sounding softer, "but, really it's hard to tell if someone.. Likes you that way. A lot of the time, our emotions can conflict with how we explain them. Like.."

You try to come up with an example, "When you're upset with someone. Obviously you're angry right? But, then, if it's because they've done something to hurt you; you're sad too. So you'll have two colors."

You watch the disassociation in her features in real time, and you can tell she's bored with you.

"Yeah, okay." She pouts, "I was just hoping you could look at someone and tell if they like me back.."

"Mm. I wish it was less complicated too."

Dabi shifts back into his original position to stare at the still full glass of whiskey he wasn't going to drink.

Back to old habits.. He muses, but the grin never graces his features. He never asked you about yourself; he simply eavesdropped or deduced everything, laying it all out in his mind and trying to piece you together.

Things were different now.

He couldn't completely return to the way he was before the escape and the dock and the way he had just--spontaneously combusted in the middle of nowhere. He couldn't return to loathing you for how kind and interesting you were.

But he also didn't know how to approach you.

He figured it would probably be easy. Everyone else was open with you. Even now, Toga sat at your side and didn't feel the need to twist a blade in her fingers or put on a show. You didn't judge, condescend, or conspire against anyone.

Yet the reality of it still scared him and kept his body rigid in place when you were close by. Accepting that you meant something to him was easier in his head--but doing it in real life meant... change.

It didn't change how he felt about his father, nor did it change how he felt about the League's mission.

But his priorities had undoubtedly shifted.

Inwardly, he groans, and his hand finds a way into his hair as he leans over the bar.

"I just wanted you to be okay."

His heart dances along with the lilt of your voice in his mind, thudding harder at the catch in your breath between the 'you' and the 'to be'. The rapture that small inflection causes is astronomical--and it makes the world spin from his stool at the bar.

It meant everything to him.

He just didn't know how to handle it right now.

[hesgunnalovethis]

Not That Bad

Leonard McCoy x Reader

Summary: You have the severity of your injuries in a twist sending Leonard McCoy’s blood pressure through the roof

TW: injury descriptions and strong language 

ft. bestie Jim Kirk <333

Masterlist!

Word Count: 1737

“Yes. No. I understand Mr Spock. Cuttings on your desk in 40 minutes. Got it.” You closed your comm and checked your watch. 

 You’d spent 16 hours Planetside and after a complication that had landed most crew in the MedBay, you agreed to help out botany to complete the mission report. Really you didn’t have a clue what you were doing but you concluded it couldn’t be that hard. 

 Cross referencing the plants in front of you to the list on your PADD, you picked up the plier looking utensil and began clipping the stems from the root. 

 “Maybe I should transfer to science.” You muttered to yourself after you’d successfully pressed the first few cuttings into their sample bags. 

Taking the next stem between your fingers you picked up the pliers and cut through the green and your fingertip, simultaneously. Blood shot upwards from your finger. You scoffed at the inconvenience. 

 You grabbed the first aid kit and examined the content that your Chief Medical Officer boyfriend had once talked you through and began to wish you’d listened. 

 Failing to remember anything, you wrapped a plaster around the top of your finger and watched it turn from white to red almost immediately. You tried layering another on top which bled through just as fast. After a failed third layer you took yourself from the lab and started towards the MedBay. 

 You stopped for a moment scouring your brain for which corridors to take. It had been so long since you’d actually journeyed to the MedBay by choice. You’d been utilising your doctor shared quarters. 

 Arriving at the desk you checked your watch again. 20 minutes before Spock was expecting you. You began to panic and turned to the receptionist. 

 “Could you ask Doctor McCoy to see me? It’s pretty urgent.” You said, grabbing a bundle of tissues from the display to contain the droplets falling from your finger. 

 The receptionist did as you asked and you heard Leonard through the comm.

 “On the bridge?” He asked. 

 “No, Sir. Here in the MedBay.” The receptionist in front of you responded. 

 “In the Med-“ You heard a fuss beginning through the comm and then a room number you were to be assigned. 

 No sooner had you arrived, a half scrubbed in Leonard burst through the door desperately searching for what heinous emergency had beckoned you to his MedBay. 

 “Are you being serious right now!?” Leonard asked ripping off the last of his scrub uniform. 

 “Always good to see you too, Lee.” You responded, smiling. 

 Sighing softly he shot you an apologetic look and planted a kiss on your cheek. 

 “Hi, darlin’” He whispered letting down his doctor guard and allowing his southern drawl back in. He began to look you over again, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

 You lifted your hand removing the tissue to reveal your slightly bloodied finger. Leonard took a step back rubbing his temples. 

 “Y/N, darlin’. PUT A PLASTER ON IT?!”

 “I tried that! It keeps bleeding though!” You whined. 

 “There are people DYING in here, Y/N.” 

 “Oh go on, please. I have lab work due in 15 minutes and I can’t work with this bleeding all over the samples!” 

 Leonard sighed and moved to the other side of the room to collect the dermal regenerator. Taking your hand in his he kissed the cut before placing it under the machine.

 He caught your eyes with his. “I left a 6 hour surgery for this.” 

 - 

 The next day you took your healed finger with you on your next mission where your team successfully released several hostages and transported their authoritative grasp to Enterprise Security.  

 “All clear, Jim.” You said to your comm after clearing the last room on your final check. 

 “Received. Take the turbolift to the bridge and let’s get out of here.” 

 Stepping into the foreign tube you found it very similar to Starfleet’s and got it moving towards the bridge. You began to hear Jim’s voice on the other side before the lift stumbled to a halt. 

 “Um, Jim?” You shouted through the metal. 

 “Great.” Jim said clocking the flashing error sign on the lift. “Don’t worry Lieutenant. We’ll... pry it open.” 

 “Full proof.” You said to yourself, getting ready to pull from your side. 

 After a brief plan outline and a countdown you began to pull. A small gap opened to the side and you managed to squeeze your body through before the door clattered closed on your newly regenerated finger. 

 “Again?! Why is it always you?” You asked your finger, pulling it from the metals grip and eying the purple residue left on it. 

 “Me?” Jim asked, doubled over from the effort he’d just exerted, before being distracted by his comm, “Bones! Yes, just calling to let you know of the ZERO injuries incoming to the MedBay!”

 “Zero injuries?” You cut him off. “This is a broken bone for sure.” 

 “Oh my god.” Jim said in disgust looking at the weird purple oil all over the metal, your finger and subsequently his uniform. “Why is it that colour?!” 

 “Dammit, Jim.” You heard through the comm before Leonard hung up and Jim reconnected to the transporter room. 

 You arrived back on the transporter pad to Leonard’s eyes burning a hole in you and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 “Broken bone?” He said walking towards you.

 “This bastard finger.” You said and Leonard took your wrist to examine it.  

 “THIS-“ He stopped abruptly and calmed himself. “This is a finger, Y/N. BARELY a bone.” He examined it further, “I’m not even convinced that’s broken?” 

 “Tell you what though, it really fucking hurts.” You petted your lip at him. 

 Slipping an arm around your waist he led you out of the transporter room and towards the MedBay. “Let’s get you patched up sweetheart, but we really have to talk about your hyperbole.” 

 -

 It was a few days before you were due to arrive at your next destination and Jim had roped you into helping with his ensign combat training. 

 “It’s basically target practice.” Jim said in conclusion to a confused looking group of redshirts. “The phasers I’ve given you won’t shoot, but will read on the side if you’ve hit your target. It’s like laser tag! You’ve all played laser tag, right?” The room was silent. “And that’s another added to the list of shore leave activities.” 

 “Captain Kirk and I will be over here as moving targets.” You started, taking over from Jim. “Try and shoot me without hitting the Captain. Got it?” 

 You and Jim moved over to the course beginning the same choreographed fight you’d been using for years. You heard the pathetic fake phaser shots over and over and were beginning to question almost all of your life choices as a deafening shot fired and struck your side. 

 “Y/N!” Jim fell to your side, “PHASERS DOWN!” He shouted to the group briefly trying to determine which one hadn’t followed his only instruction ‘Do not bring your own phaser.’ 

 There was a small commotion before you heard Jim’s voice again. “Kirk to MedBay I need a team to training room 1 immediately.” 

 You found yourself back in the same biobed you’d frequented for past 3 days consecutively and tried to keep up with the nurses’ quick conversations. 

 “Someone page McCoy now.” You heard one of them say. 

 “Not Leonard-“ You interrupted, “He’ll jus- is there anyone else?”

 “Not anyone who could patch you up like Doctor McCoy.” One of the nurses stated opening their comm. “Doctor McCoy to room 6. On the double. It’s-“ 

 “Lieutenant Y/L/N?” Leonard cut off the nurse. 

 “Yes.” She replied. 

 “For once I’m not even surprised.” 

 The nurses continued fussing around you and your biobed beeps became angrier. 

 You watched the door open and Leonard’s face turn from passiveness to urgency in a millisecond. 

 “My god!” He shouted, dropping his board and beginning to order nurses to different machines connected to your bed. 

 “Listen, Leonard it’s not THAT bad.” 

 “NOT THAT BAD?! YOU’VE BEEN SHOT?!”  Leonard flicked his eyes between you and your vitals. 

 “Yeah, but, shot in a controlled environment.” 

 “You’ve been in here with a cut and a stave, guns blazing, and now you’ve been shot it’s ‘NOT THAT BAD?!’” 

 “Granted this doesn’t look-“ You were cut off by a wave of pain that sent you wincing. 

 “Hell.” Leonard turned to his own station briefly. “You’re not gonna like this sweetheart but you can tell me all about it when you’re back in one piece.” Leonard planted a kiss on your head and a hypo in your neck, sending you into sleep. 

-

Coming back to, you heard your biobed beeping at a normal rhythm and a strong accent beside you. 

 “I don’t care what his test scores are, he shot a Lieutenant I want him gone.” 

 “Leonard.” You scolded. 

 “Darlin’” He moved to you instantly closing his comm without a word. “How are you feeling?”

 “I’m fine. Sore neck.” You said rubbing where he’d hypo’d you. His eyes were still racked with worry. “It was an accident. That’s why we train them we-“ 

 “Darlin’ if he isn’t removed from this ship the only accident will be me prescribing him with cyanid capsules instead of his iron tablets.” He looked over your vitals again before picking up his clipboard, “But you let me worry about that. You can worry about this.” He handed you a laminated sheet entitled ‘Doctor McCoy’s Guide to a Serious Injury.’ 

 You shot him an annoyed look. 

 “Just so there’s no more confusion.” He winked at you. You glanced over the ‘Serious Injury: To Be Reported’ column. 

 “I hardly think ‘A sudden cough’ is a serious injury, Leonard.” You scoffed. 

 “Oh sure. Let’s just let your DNA de-evolve into non humane codes exterminating crucial pairings.” 

 “Noted.” You said admiring the doctor’s bedside manner, “Is there a second page?” You said spotting another sheet in his hand. 

 “No. This is Jim’s copy.” Leonard replied. 

 “Of course.” 

 Leonard brushed your hair behind your ears and smoothed your forehead. “I’m glad you’re finally visiting the MedBay doll, but I would prefer if you kept your trips to mandatory immunisations and essential check-ups.” 

 “I wouldn’t hold your breath, Doctor.” You said brushing your lips against his. 

“And somehow I still wouldn’t change you for the world.” Leonard said quietly before closing the space left between you.

[ithebookhoarder]

can i request a peaky one-shot with tommy and he's with a reader who's kind of similar to him (can be closed off/mean when they're mad lol) and tells tommy off when he's rude to her and he ends up trying to make it up to her. just because sometimes i feel like he should get a taste of his own medicine 🤨 sorry if this made no sense :(

Fire Meet Gasoline: (Tommy Shelby x Reader)

A/N: Sorry this took me a couple of days! Life got a bit hectic, but I finally got the inspiration I needed to get this out. Thanks for sending this in, and it made perfect sense! I hope you like it x Also, side note - I just love how all my recent requests for Tommy have been about making him jealous or putting him in his place XD Clearly, we all love a power-Tommy moment, but we LOVE making this poor man suffer. 

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, smoking, references to violence, references to drugs, references to death (let me know if I missed anything)

Masterlist:

——

“Where were you?”

You froze at the sound of your husband’s voice, echoing around the all too empty hallway. Whereas once it would have filled you with excitement and comfort to hear it, tonight, it made you feel exhausted. As if sensing the confrontation awaiting the pair of you. 

Part of you had hoped he may have gone to bed and allowed this to wait until morning. But no. Apparently Tommy wanted to do this here and now, and who were you to deny him?

“Out,” you replied, beginning to shed your coat and hurling it on to the stand. “I’m surprised you’re still awake.” 

“Out where?”

You sighed, turning to stare at the man loitering in the doorway next to you, a glass of whiskey in hand as he clearly waited for you to return to your home. The clock on the landing chimed, cementing the fact it was late. Very late. 

“I went to see Polly, if you must know. After what you said earlier it was pretty clear you didn’t want me here so I did what you asked,” you explained calmly, despite knowing the impact your words would have on him. “I wanted her advice on a few things.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Tommy’s tone was dangerous, but nervous. You could sense it in the way he was watching you, as if afraid you’d march back out of the door again and leave him there. After all, he wouldn’t have been able to stop you. Not in his state. 

It had only been a month since he’d been discharged from the hospital, having survived the attack that had caused him to collapse in Ada’s house. The damage had been extensive, and the drugs he’d been prescribed to handle the pain had only made everything else worse. 

Tommy Shelby was dangerous. An idle Tommy? Well, that was positively lethal, as you’d found out. 

Today had been just another in a long list of spats you’d been having recently. Nothing you did anymore ever seemed to make Tommy happy, always irritating him somehow. 

Sure, deep down, you knew his frustration lay with himself and the fact he was essentially bed bound but it didn’t make his temper or harsh words hurt any less. 

“Like what to do when the man you love doesn’t want you around him anymore,” you stated coldly. “Like, what does it mean when he’d rather re-injure himself than accept your help because he can’t stand to think of letting anyone in. Letting anyone care for him.” 

“Y/N,” Tommy began, reaching for your hand as you took a hasty step away from him. Even now, he seemed unsteady on his feet as he tried to make you look at him but you couldn’t give in. Not when you knew that was what he wanted - for you to act as if this had never happened. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, eh? I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Not when you were trying to help.”

“Then why do you keep doing it?”

“Because… I…” 

“There’s only so much of this I can take, Tommy. You’ve always shut me out before, but you almost died,” you snapped, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You didn’t care if the entire staff heard you as you stared down your husband. It wasn’t like they weren’t used to this kind of scenario by now. Frances, in particular, often ended up in the middle of your rows. “You did die, Tommy, for a minute in that operating theatre and I… I had to sit there and watch, looking like a fucking idiot because I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know what you’d got us into or the threat we have hanging over us until it almost cost you your life.” 

Tommy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose at the hurt in your tone. 

“And now you do, you know why you can’t just take off like this,” he continued. “You left without telling anyone where you’d gone. You didn’t have anyone watching out for you.”

“I was at Polly’s! I didn’t know I needed a fucking armed escort. How could I when you don’t share things? After all, as you said earlier, I just get in the way. It would be easier without me here.”

“Y/N-“

“No. No, don’t you dare take that tone with me,” you seethed, hating how he stepped towards you, looking at you like you were simply a worked up toddler, having a tantrum. The arrogance was breath taking, especially considering it was him who had exploded at you for trying to help him down the stairs earlier. That was what had started this whole mess; his pride would be the death of him. “I am your wife, Tommy. Your wife. So start treating me like it and fucking listen to me.” 

The depth of Tommy’s rage and pain was evident in his eyes. It was a look you had hardly ever seen in your life; Tommy was scared. He’d been worried for you. 

Good. 

He’d felt a slither of the pain and agony of being kept uninformed, just as you had been. You were relieved a little to realise that, even if deep down, you felt guilt at being the cause of it. 

He was your husband after all. You may have hated him at times, but you loved him too. 

So, you took a breath and turned to make your way up to bed. You were too tired to fight and clearly neither of you could be trusted not to say something you’d regret in the morning. 

“It’s late, Tommy. I’m going to bed in the guest room. Frances can help you to bed and we can talk tomorrow.”

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Tommy pleaded, startled by your resolve. He’d rarely seen you like this before and he knew it was never a good thing when you sealed yourself away, as if trying to play him at his own game. To his horror, you were even better at it than he was. “Come to bed, eh? You don’t need to sleep in the guest room-”

“But I do, Tommy. I have forgiven a lot of sins on your behalf,” you hissed accusingly. “Over and over again you fuck up and leave the rest of us to put the pieces back together again. Well, guess what? Some of us are fucking sick and tired of it! So I am going to sleep. Alone. So I can fucking think about whether or not I can deal with this - with you - any more.”

Like that, you turned and marched away, leaving your husband staring after you with pain and disbelief in his eyes. 

———

Three days. 

It had been three days since that night in the hallway. Three nights since you’d spoken to your husband, or even looked at him. 

Yes, you were a grown woman, but you could be every bit as petty as your husband when you wanted to be so giving him the cold shoulder seemed a fitting punishment. As your mother had always said, if you didn’t have anything nice to say you shouldn’t say anything at all. 

It was this mantra you’d taken to heart as you carefully avoided Tommy for the following days, allowing Frances and the rest of the staff to watch over him and see to his needs. 

As you’d expected, however, that had gone down with Tommy about as well as a lead balloon, to hear you refused to see or speak with him. 

Even when he’d managed to convince Frances to help him downstairs into the sitting room, you’d simply moved yourself out onto the lawn instead. It was rather childish, but you couldn’t help it as you chose to sit in the afternoon sunshine to read, leaving your husband to watch from the window. 

Now, though, your temper had simmered down. Three days had been just about long enough to make your point to Tommy, but it had also been long enough to make you miss him… not that you would admit that, not until he’d apologised for his recent treatment of you anyway. Which was why you’d indulged Frances when she’d suggested you both had breakfast together in the dining room this morning.

“The sunlight would be good for him, Mrs Shelby,” she’d suggested softly, the twinkle in her eye enough to tell you she knew exactly what she was trying to do. Perhaps she’d had enough of him, and his Shelby temper, too. “He’s been in his room for the last few days. Perhaps a change of scenery would offer him a new perspective on things?” 

You scoffed. “Why not? Perhaps it will, Frances.” 

“Very well, Ma’am. I’ll see to it at once.” 

And she had. 

So, here you were, at opposite one another at the mahogany table, silently scraping your cutlery against the china plates breakfast had been served on. 

Not even Frances’s eggs, sunny-side-up, could brighten the dark cloud that hung over the pair of you. You didn’t think you could ever remember a more tense meal in your entire life - and considering the amount of Shelby family dinners you’d been to, that was saying something. 

Why had you chosen breakfast as the meal to do this confrontation? It wasn’t exactly acceptable to break out the whiskey before noon, even if that was precisely what you wanted. 

Instead, you had to make do with smoking instead, letting the process of inhaling the smoke soothe you. 

“I thought you quit smoking?”

Of course that would be the first thing Tommy said to you. It was almost comical given everything that had been happening. 

“I did, but it’s been a difficult morning.” 

“I see.” He cleared his throat, hearing the accusation loud and clear. “And what are your plans for the rest of the day? I thought I heard Frances saying something about you planning on going to see Esme?” 

You didn’t respond, simply blowing a thin stream of smoke out of the corner of your lips in reply. 

It was comforting to see the way Tommy squirmed under the weight of the silence that hung between you both, as if scared you were going to erupt any second. 

Maybe it was the blood red tone of your lipstick, but he could sense the danger lingering beneath your fixed smile.

You really were his equal in every way; no one else could meet his temper with a fury as strong as his own. 

“I… need to apologise.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Tommy stated firmly, throwing down his cutlery and turning his gaze to you. “I… I have been a fucking bastard, the last months, and a terrible husband. I work too much and I take you for granted.” 

You paused, your small encouraging nod a sign that you were listening. That he should continue with the direction this conversation was taking. “You do.”

“And my frustration at being injured has nothing to do with you and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” Tommy continued breathlessly. “I also know I shouldn’t have said the horrific things I did the other morning. Not when you were just trying to help, just trying to take care of me. It was cruel and I’m sorry, eh? I really am. I can’t stand it when you’re angry at me.” 

“I’m glad you think so,” you whispered, daring to look at him properly. “I love you, Thomas Shelby and I’d do anything for you, just as I know you would for me, if our situation was reversed. That’s why I allow you to lash out at me, but there’s only so much I can take.”

“I know-”

“No, no you really fucking don’t, Thomas,” you snapped, stubbing out the cigarette against your plate and sitting up straight. “You don’t know. You don’t know what it’s like to have your partner not trust you, to keep things from you. You don’t know what it’s like to have Ada call you in the middle of the night, screaming and panicking that you might be dying because of those secrets you’ve been keeping. I can’t… I can’t do that again, Tom. I can’t… Thinking I’d lost you…”

The tears that had been brewing in the corners of your eyes finally broke free as you bit back a sob. You immediately hated how embarrassed it made you feel, to crack in front of him when you’d been trying to be strong for so long.

You’d hidden your tears with impeccable skill whenever he’d been awake or talking. You’d also lost yourself in seeing to his recovery since that night in the hospital, knowing being busy was the best way to distract yourself from your terror.  

“Y/N,” Tommy whispered, reaching across the table. His hand caught yours, grounding you to him as he watched your tears fall. The sight was enough to hurt him more than his lingering injuries. This was why he’d hidden as much from you as he had. He’d only wished to save you from what he deemed as pointless worry, but clearly he’d been wrong about that too. “I’m here, eh? I’m here and I’m alive…. thanks to you, most likely, given your nursing. It won’t happen again though. I’m handling it. This matter is going to be resolved and we’re going to be able to move on. Be happy. Be safe.” 

“Then why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you’re too wise for your own good,” he teased. “Because I’ve been so terrible a husband that you have no reason to trust me - I get it. I’m going to do better, though. I promise.” 

You sniffed, allowing yourself a watery smile as you watched him rise from his seat and hurry to your side. Having him hold you was all you’d ever needed to feel safe, to feel loved. 

So, you wrapped yourself around him in return, sighing as he kissed you softly. 

“I’m holding you to your promise, Thomas Shelby,” you whispered. “Don’t betray me or my trust. This is your last chance - I won’t always be so forgiving.”

You knew he’d heard you loud and clear. He’d learned his lesson, for now. You were his entire world and he was in no rush to risk losing you again. 

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

I JUST GOT HOME FROM WORK AND SAW YOUR POST SO I HOPE I SENT THIS IN IN TIME, BUT DADDY!CLYDE TRAINING HIS BABYGIRL TO LACTATE WITHOUT BEING PREGNANT (BECAUSE THAT IS 100% A CLYDE KINK) AND BEING SO PROUD OF HER WHEN SHE FINALLY STARTS PRODUCING AND HE CANT STOP SUCKING ON HER TITS. OKAY LOVE YOU BYEEE!!❤️❤️

@clydesfavoritegirl SO, I HAVE BEEN WRACKING MY BRAIN ABOUT THIS AND I HAVE A WIERD THOT ABOUT IT. 

So, little fun facts about Sara, I have had a baby (she’s five now), I breastfed for about a year (very hard to keep up), and I have also donated my eggs for other people to have babies in the future. All of this mentioned above is not easy to accomplish and requires patience and willpower to do. 

Any way you have a child is valid no matter which avenue you are given in life. If you want kids by all means have them, if you don’t that’s totally and completely fine. If you want to use formula to feed them, do it queen all the power to you, the same goes for breastfeeding. Adoption is just as important as shooting baby out yourself and surrogates are true angels in my eyes. I had not considered this lactation thing until I did research on it, because I really wanted to know if it was possible to accomplish, and it is. 

Upon my research I saw that it takes months and months of hormone therapy to produce milk without being pregnant and even then, doctors prescribe it for couples adopting and or trying surrogacy for new babies coming into the family. SO, that being said, I can twist this into maybe Clyde and yourself looking at adopting or using a surrogate for a child, and you want to try to breastfeed them because you want to bond with your new baby. And of course Clyde is ALL about it because anything that makes you happy and comfortable!

PLEASE INDULGE MY THOTS ON OUR SOUTHERN BELL CLYDE AND HIS INEVITABLE LACTATION KINK.... 

**I’m gonna put warnings on here because it mentions some heavy stuff (plz don’t read if you are triggered by any of this): Infertility, hormone therapy, angst, depression, adoption, and surrogacy**

“Baby girl?” Clyde calls from the living room, his nose deep in the baby books you both had purchased over the months of trying to start your big happy family, fumbling though his phone at the same time.

“What’s goin’ on big bear?” you chime, busy fixing yourself up in the mirror after a relaxing shower to wash the sex from your skin after a session with big daddy. 

Adjusting you hair, wincing as you lifted your arms, “Jesus,” groaning out, feeling the soreness from your heaving breasts as they felt like concrete on your chest. 

_______________

Ever since you'd begun the injections and pills, your body was hating life. The raging hormone cocktails running through your bloodstream causing every single emotion to emit from your body at once. 

You’d be happy and cheery one second, followed by crying in your shared bed under the sheets in the fetal position, and finally raging about the fact that the TV was turned too damn loud in the other room, when it all actuality it was the same level you’d always kept it at. 

No matter the tears and agony, Clyde and yourself took all of this one day at a time, just as you had when you found out that children may not be a possibility when it came to the old fashion way of doin’ it. The pain was so hard to bear that day. You cried and cried, locking yourself away from the world as you cursed whomever was in charge of your fate, feeling like less of a woman the more the days droned on. 

It took a few months for you to smile again, Clyde painstakingly trying to solve your problems with everything under the sun, reading books, catering to your needs, holding you when you sobbed yourself to sleep over your vacancy. 

Cradling you when you felt like less of a person for not being able to accomplish one simple thing you’d both hoped for in the future. He’d hush your tears away, forcing you into him as he felt you shudder during the night, silent tears falling from his face as he prayed for some kind of sign or solution to all of this. 

Then it all fell into place one day. Clyde was working his ass off during the nights, leaving you to stew about things at home, which inevitably led you to the internet. 

You looked up all kinds of solutions, message boards talking about infertility, therapies, injections, adoption, and surrogacy. All of them possible in your eyes if it played out like it had for the folks at the various agencies you’d looked up. Finally, a glimmer of hope in this shit-storm of uncertainty, as you glanced over the testimonials and pictures of various families, so happy with their children healthy and happy. 

“This is it,” you had muttered under your breath, a flutter from deep in your stomach causing tears to well up in your eyes as you thought about Clyde and you taking home a sweet new addition. 

You’d brought it up to him immediately upon entering the house at and ungodly hour, to which you were scolded by your big bear after you’d made your sales pitch to him. 

“I think it sounds perfect baby girl,” he cooed as you both laid in bed that night, caressing your sweat sheened skin after a good punishing from his cock, “if ya want ta do it, m’ happy with anything ya want,” whispering as he felt you sink into him to relax for the first time in months. 

“I jus’ wanna make ya happy to big bear,” kissing his thick chest as you inhaled his musk, “I think this is the way we can have that family we want,” ghosting your lips up his sternum as he sighed into your touch. 

“Mhmm,” he embraced you further, “I’ll adopt as many babies as ya want honey. Yer jus’ gonna be the best momma regardless,” hearing your light cries in the quiet of the darkened bedroom. 

“T-thank you big bear,” you strained out, still hiding in his neck as the tears spilled, “I can’t wait ta make ya a real daddy finally,” gripping the back of his neck as you fell into another chorus of cries. 

_____________

“What’s up?” your v-neck t-shirt straining on your heaving tits, the bra you’d picked certainly not fitting you as the days went on and on. 

“I think I found the pump ya were wantin’,” he gulped, seeing the peaches poking through your top half as you bent forward to look at the contraption he’d found. 

“Oh ya!” you jumped slightly, your tits bouncing in a ripple at your excitement, causing Clyde to salivate at the sight. 

“Thank ya big bear!” jumping into his lap as you pulled him to you, kissing his cheeks as he buried his face in your pillows, running his thick hands over your sweatpants. 

“A-anythin’ fer ma baby girl,” he panted, burying his prominent nose deeper into your rock hard tits, “Gah damn yer so juicy darlin’,” lifting his head to place pecks all over the tops of them. 

“Ya like ma milky titties baby?” biting your lip as he started sucking a mark over the soft skin, “ya wanna taste a mama’s milk?” cooing in his ear as he moaned into his make out session with your chest, rubbing his head to press it further in the valley of them. 

“Ya think they’re finally full baby girl?” he glanced up, his eyes glimmering with love and lust in the same gaze. You pet his precious face, the hopeful look only making this more special as he’d been helping you with your injections since you’d gotten the go ahead from the doctor and the agency. 

“I think so daddy,” feeling them tense up at your words, the soreness pulsing all the way to both nipples as you tried to avoid making faces in front of him. He helped you remove your fresh top, exposing your lacy bra, the skin popping out with colored veins, gravid from the fullness of them. 

“Fuck me,” he drooled, reaching behind to undo the clasp, eyes widening even further when he saw them perked up out of their hiding spot. The nipples taut and ready for his lips to suck on at his leisure. 

“Ya look so damn perty baby girl,” raising his hand to grip the skin, feeling how heavy they were on your chest, “ya want daddy ta see if they’re ready ta go?” practically begging as he ran a thumb over the sensitive nipple. 

You reared your head back at the slight touches he made, “please daddy,” whining as he watched you fall apart from his motions, “suck on my tits big bear,” shoving your chest closer to his waiting mouth as he inhaled deep, a growl brewing as he went to latch his pink lips on your areola. 

“Mother fuck!” you cried out, the pleasure releasing from your throat as he sealed himself on your tit, massaging the sore skin as he coaxed the sweet liquid to fall from it. 

He vacuum sealed his lips, sucking lightly at first, feeling you writhe and find the back of his to grip his mane, pushing him further into your warm skin. 

“O-oh g-god baby,” you moaned out, feeling a burning feeling build in your boob that felt both uncomfortable and welcoming as he sped up his jaw on your nipple. 

“Mhmmmm,” he whined out, feeling the body temperature liquid seep from your tit, coating the insides of his mouth in a warm embrace as he sucked more and more. 

Just then, you felt your other tit release a trickle of fluid, the stream of white beautiful in contrast to your skin as you glanced down in awe and pleasure. The cement block feeling escaping as Clyde sucked down your sweet nectar. 

“Oh f-fuck d-daddy,” you gasped, a mixture of elation leaving your body, “I-I’m l-leakin’,” you winced out, feeling Clyde let up on your boob, picking his head up to reveal a white sheen covering his lips and part of his mustache. 

“That ya are darlin’,” he eyes completely dilated as he looked over at your stream sliding down the underside of your neglected tit, making its way down your stomach in a perfect line, “yer doin’ such a good job baby girl.” 

Gripping the other tit in his large hand, coaxing the nipple into his mouth sucking your sweetness down in a frenzy. Your hand massaging the back of his head as you arched your back into his motions, feeling a huge relief as he emptied your other aching tit. 

He lifted his head in a gasp, wiping his mouth from the mess he’d made, watching as your sultry eyes bored into him. The both of you panting and elated at the hard work it had taken to accomplish this huge step. 

“Ya perfect, baby girl,” inching his lips to yours as you tasted your milk in his mouth, sighing into his tongue wrapping around yours. 

He pulled away for a moment, the noticeable bulge in his jeans ever present as he fulfilled his fantasies he’d had since he’d met you, “I don’t think m’ gonna be able ta keep up with these tits though as much as I’d like ta suck on ‘em fer every damn meal,” giggling as he lowered his mouth to your neck, sucking more marks on the skin as you mewled under him. 

“Don’t worry big bear,” you purred, gripping his hair again, arching yourself into his lips, “ya can help me when I get that pump we saw,” feeling him smirk under your neck at the prospect of him watching that show. 

“But fer now,” you lifted him by the ears to gaze into his precious eyes, “I think mama needs ta take care a daddy,” gesturing to his now tented erection. 

“Please mama,” he begged, watching you get up from your spot to curl and index finger as you backed into your bedroom again for round two. 

___________

God I hope I did this ask alright for you honey! Thank you for sending it in so I could learn something from it, as well as indulge in this juicy Clyde thot!

oneshot taglist: @maybe-your-left, @safarigirlsp, @clydesfavoritegirl, @emeraldsiren20, @thepalaceofmelanie, @bpdbensoloblog, @hopeamarsu, @caillea

🖤,

ray-nal-beads 

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 68

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It was one of those old crush dreams. And I could tell it was a dream. It had Weiss in it and she was wearing her old Beacon era outfit so I knew it was fake. That it wasn't real. It put the dream in that odd category of semi-lucid.

I was dealing with the Boarbatusk in Ports's old classroom. I was using my old sword. I felt small as I fought it.

"Save that kid!" Weiss shouted down at me. It was disorientating like she was shouting through molasses. "Jaune, save him."

I turned away from where she was alone in the seats calling to me. There was this kid down in the pit with me. I couldn't make out his face. It was that kind of dream. Colors blurred and I slew the professor's Boarbatusk.

Instead of dissolving into ash it turned into a matted mess of worms and centipedes. They overran the kid who called out something as a centipede slid over his wrists and locked tight.

I took a step forward but my legs got wrapped up by one of the Grimm worms. It wrapped over my flesh and the slime it left behind stung me.

A centipede wrapped around both my wrists and locked tight. It looked at me. It made a smug, Grimm face at me.

I tried to scream as the bugs ran over my body.

I woke up trying to scream but it only came out as a meek groan. I couldn't move and my wrists and legs still burned where the bugs had touched me.

I was awake enough to know what I was going through. Sleep paralysis, they called it. I drooled on myself a little and couldn't shut my mouth as I lay in the cot they'd stuck me in.

I waited and eventually I was able to move again. I sat up. An orderly came by in the hospital. They had to check on us every thirty minutes just in case one of us tried to commit suicide. That was the kind of ward I was stuck in. It seriously sucked.

I stood up, tired of being watched from the doorway when the nurses came by. They hadn't taken my armor or my huntsman clothes. That told me that they wanted me comfortable. Just so long as I wasn't dangerous.

I was still dangerous. I had my gods damn semblance. Nothing could take that from me.

I striped the clothes off and hung it all next to the sink as I stepped into the in suite shower and washed myself down. I felt fucking disgusting and my dream had left me shaking. My wrists and legs burned still.

Sleep didn't even hit the same anymore.

I couldn't trust it. I couldn't trust in my mind while I rested. I wasn't allowed to rest. It fucking sucked. Plus they took my weed from me and I hadn't had the chance to talk to a doctor who could prescribe something real for me.

All I had was reality. Cold and sober even in the hot shower. At least Neo could bust me out anytime I wanted, basically. They'd taken my scroll too so I couldn't call her but she'd be around. I might just take her up on it, too.

They had me locked in this place. This hospital had us under watch from the doorways at all times even through the night so my rest wouldn't have been restful even if I didn't have the nightmares.

I scrubbed at my eyes hard and thought about the people I was doing this for. Ruby. Weiss. Yang. Blake. My old friends. I had to give this a try otherwise I was a coward. Otherwise I wanted to be sick.

I picked at the inside of my ear as I stood in the shower. I could feel things crawling around beneath my skin. The shower water pounded against the ground and with it came the whispering sound of Mother's voice.

“Come to me… lend me your strength…”

I shuddered.

“I have a favor to ask you, child. Run. Run away.”

I wanted to slam my head into the shower tile wall. I hosed myself off with the little soaps they'd provided me and tried to relax as best as I could. It wasn't working so great. I wanted to hurt myself. I wanted to smoke. I wanted to die. I wanted to see my friends.

My feelings were all bottled and mixed up into a hue of utter nothingness.

It was still fairly late and I was sure I wouldn't get any more sleep tonight. Nothing good would happen to my thoughts if I did. That was when she got me. While I was sleeping I was vulnerable to her.

I was so fucking unsafe and had been for a long time. A month or more. Ever since that day I'd murdered my own friends nothing had gone my way. The things I'd learned about myself only dragged me down.

I hated it. I hated being alive. For the thousandth time I cursed Merlot who'd doomed me to this existence without a care in the world. My creator… I would make him pay. He would suffer for bringing me into this world and dooming me to be tortured so. I could feel her fingers on the surface of my mind.

They were surgical and touched me so gently but they were there, digging deep into my thoughts like tentacles. It would feel so good to give in to them. It could be everything I ever wanted.

"Mr. Arc? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I called out to the nurse outside of the bathroom. "I'm the same as I've always been," I whispered in a quieter tone.

I could get through this. I was a hunter damnit. That meant something to me.

Does it?

The voice questioning me was my own. And it had a good point. All my dreams about being a hunter were fake. It was as fake as my name. It was given to me by an alien goddess.

She was working her way into me. She was breaking me down. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep it up. It felt like water against a rock. Eventually it would erode. Except the rock was my mind. It was my psyche pit against hers.

"Can I get you anything Mr. Arc?"

"Something to help me relax and sleep?" I asked back.

"Just a moment." The male nurse walked away. He came back and placed a pill on a counter. "It's Clonazepam, just let it dissolve under your tongue. It should help with anxiety and sleep."

"Thanks," I breathed.

I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I savored the rough feel of the towel against my skin. The cloth was low quality and boy it felt good. I took the pill and let it dissolve under my tongue. It was incredibly sweet to the taste. I swallowed.

I immediately felt a little more relaxed but it was a bit more relaxed about being mind raped. There was only so much the drugs could do, surely. I was in it for real and I was in deep.

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"So tell me about what brings you in here Mr. Arc." My counselor was a woman. Middling height with brown hair and green eyes. She looked trustworthy. A strong jaw and high cheek bones made her classically good looking, too. She was maybe fifty, maybe a bit older. She didn’t have the good looks of a hunter, though.

Dr. Caulbaugh was her name. And after a short introduction I was supposed to share with her my deepest darkest secrets. It was necessary for this thing to work.

"The general didn't tell you anything?" I asked. We were locked alone in a room. If I so chose I could rip her in half. Probably not a good sign that I was thinking like that. But I was.

"No, he didn't. It's up to you what you share with me. But the more honest you can be the better we can make things for you." She smiled at me and picked a pen at the corner of her mouth. An actual pen as opposed to a data pad.

"And you work with hunters?" I asked.

"Primarily. My background is in trauma victims. The overlap, I think, would surprise you."

“Not really.” As far as trauma went hunters had to be up there. Between killing people and watching their friends die day in and day out there was a lot of trauma to be had. I maybe knew a thing or two about that. I nodded and flushed out my half cape in the chair. I swept it behind me."That's why you lot let me keep my armor and clothes."

"Hunters are more comfortable in their wear. And armor isn't exactly a threat." She smiled again, trying to disarm me. That's the real reason she let me keep my cloak, armor, and clothes. That's the real reason I wasn't in a gown.

I kept nodding anyway.  

"Please, tell me about yourself, Mr. Arc."

"My father was a test tube and my 'mother,'" I gave the word quotation marks. "Was an incubator. I was created in a laboratory by a scientist named Merlot from the genetic material of a woman named Salem. My other mother."

"You're serious?" Her jaw dropped a little. It shouldn't have been outside the range of possibility. Especially in a technophilic place like Atlas.

I nodded again.

"Okay." She started writing.

"I'm biologically twenty but I'm chronological three or four."

"Oh my gods." She swore a little. She seemed a little shocked. I had been too, though. So there was that.

"Yeah. I joined Beacon academy when I was 'seventeen.' I was there when the academy went down. My partner was killed in the action. Her name was Pyrrha."

"Okay." She murmured scrawling at her clipboard.

"I killed for the first time maybe nine months after that. I just ripped this bandit in half."

"How many people have you killed?"

"I've lost count. Maybe a hundred. Maybe more," I confessed. "A lot of people."

"Okay. Alright." She kept writing frantically. "You're very young to have such a high body count."

"You've met other four year olds with a higher body count than me?" I laughed.

"N-no."  She mumbled. She picked the pen at the corner of her mouth. A nervous habit, maybe.

"Sorry. Bad joke."

"No, please go on."

"I was there when Haven was attacked. A month ago or so. Not sure if you heard about it."

"I hadn't…"

"I'm sure some details are classified. But while I was there my Mother, Salem took control over my mind. She made me kill two of my friends."

"You mean, like with a semblance?"

"Kinda," I shrugged. "I bet details about my Mother are classified above top secret. I'm sure I can't share much with you."

"That's alright."

"And ever since then I've had tactile, visual, and auditory hallucinations. I hear her voice. I see shadows. I feel bugs crawling around in my face and in my eyes."

"I see. I see. Then what happened after Haven?"

"I found my 'father's' laboratory. That's where I learned the truth about me. I had fake memories, you see. Then I came here."

"From Mistral?"

"I snuck into the country. Report me."

"I'm not going to report you."

"I was so worried you would," I said facetiously. "So what do you think, doc? Do I have PTSD?"

"Almost certainly," she was still writing very quickly. "Mr. Arc you have quite the tale to tell."

"Do I make your list of top ten weirdest patients or what?"

"You just might." She laughed. "Have you ever tried to take your own life?"

"Just after I killed my friends at Haven I tried to kill myself."

"What happened?"

"Couldn't focus. My aura wouldn't let me." I squeezed a fist as I recalled the memory. I inhaled deeply and tried to relax like I was about to try it again now.

"I see. I want to run through some mood scales with you. Is that alright?"

"Sure." I shrugged. I had no idea what those were.

"Now I want you to tell me if you've experienced these things over the past month. If you've experienced it all of the days, most of the days, half of the days, a few of the days, or none of the days."

"Shoot."

"Feeling down, depressed or hopeless?" She asked.

"All of the days."

"Feeling like a failure, like you've let yourself down?" She went on.

"All of the days. My father classified me as a failure of an experiment, even."

"Feeling like you'd be better off dead or having thoughts of hurting yourself?" She was unrelenting.

"All of the days."

"Poor appetite or the reverse, over eating?"

"A few of the days."

"Poor sleep or the opposite, getting too much sleep?"

"All of the days."

"Which one?"

"I have nightmares from Mother. I can't sleep. I'm even afraid of sleeping. She gets me while I sleep."

She wrote notes on her clipboard. "How have you been sleeping since you arrived?"

"Poorly."

"Okay, I'll prescribe you something for that. Next scale. Moving too slow, to the point someone would have noticed or the opposite, being more fidgety than usual?"

"None of the days."

"Fear or worrying about a great many subjects?"

"All of the days."

"Well Mr. Arc…"

"What? Never had a mind controlled patient before?"

"I can't say that I have. It seems to me you don't believe I'll be able to treat you."

"That's because I'm not actually crazy. I have someone else in my head."

"I don't think you're crazy Mr. Arc. That's not what PTSD is. I'm going to get you started on some of our atypical antipsychotics. They'll help stabilize your mood and you should notice the effects immediately."

"Which one?"

"It's called Asenapine. Have you heard of it?" She asked.

"No." I shook my head. I hadn't heard of any of the medications. I was no expert. My brain was in this woman's hands. I had to just trust her.

"Well it should help stabilize you. I want to run a genetics test on you to see which medications you'll respond best to in the meantime."

"I'm willing to bet my genetics are classified."

"Because of your origin?"

"Yeah. Because of my creation."

"Well I'll see about getting through on those. In the meantime I'm keeping you on Clonazepam and Asenapine."

"And you think that'll help?"

"Well it's not an exact science but we should be able to find a medication combination that works for you," she returned.

"We'll see, doc. I'm told you're who I should talk to about being released. About getting my weapon back, too."

"You hunters are all about getting your weapons. You're not ready to leave here, Mr. Arc. I'm putting you in for a three day hold."

"Three days?"

"Three days minimum. It's my professional opinion that you need serious help. You don't need a weapon in your hands right now."

"I could be doing real serious good. I could be saving lives."

"You could also be taking them."

"That's the job. That's what hunters are for. Let alone what I am for. I was made to kill people. I think. I’m not sure."

"You mentioned your friends. What were their names?"

"Ren and Nora." She looked over her board at me, looking deadly serious.

"Unless you want there to be more like that you'll remain calm and go through the therapies I recommend."

"Very well."

"You still seem doubtful. That sort of obstinacy is counter productive to your treatment. A large part of it is your belief."

"I'm being mind controlled. There's no cure for that. And the things I am? Where I came from? That shit's permanent."

"This mind control event is where your psychosis started? It's why you resorted to marijuana?"

"Maybe. There might have been psychosis before.."

"Then let us help you Mr. Arc. This isn't forever. You'll be back out in the field. It's my firm belief that your stay here is temporary. Have faith in the treatments. I think we can make some serious progress with your psychosis."

"I agreed to this in the first place."

"Then have faith. You're not doomed, Mr. Arc."

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-WG

[shslpunkartist]

All in My Head

(This is an au I've had in my head for months, but I never talked about it because it's VERY ooc of Keith and Pico. This is a basic explanation of it through Keith's eyes. If people are interested, I'll talk more about it.

Btw, the only characters that would be involved with this au is Keith, Pico, Amelia, and Otis, but Ami and Otis aren't mentioned here)

He's always been there, for as long as I can remember.

I can't think of a time when I was younger that he wasn't around. He was there every time I woke up, when I went to school, when I played games at home, and when I went to sleep. He wasn't creepy though; he was a kid, just like me, and he was my friend. He played games together, we did my homework together, we talked together.. We did everything together. 

His name was Pico.

My parents told me that he was my imaginary friend, which is something all kids had. I didn't quite understand it though, because he felt real to me, and he wasn't based on anything I have ever seen before. But he was my friend, and it got my parents and sister to act like he was around, so it was nice! 

But.. Pico never went away, like most "imaginary friends" did. He grew up with me. I never had a problem with it obviously. I didn't WANT my best friend to disappear! But it got my parents worried.. I was talking to what seemed like nothing, which confused a lot of people at middle school and their friends from work, who were judging me for being a lonely weirdo. They didn't want my life to get harder when I continued to grow up, so..

They tried to give me "medicine". They said it was to make me "feel better". I didn't know what they meant, but I didn't think much of it, so I took it before going to sleep.

The next morning, Pico wasn't there.

At first, I thought he had gotten up before I did and left the room, but he never did that; he always waited until I got up, so that we could have breakfast together. I got up and looked around the house, but I couldn't find him, no matter where I looked. I called for him, I tried to listen out for his voice, but.. nothing. I started to panic. He's never left me before, but now, he was nowhere to be seen. 

I cried to my parents. "He's gone!" I said, "Pico is gone!" 

"It's ok!" They responded. "It's ok that Pico is gone!"

"That's what is supposed to happen!"

…..

I felt sick.

That's when they explained what that "medicine" was: it was a drug prescribed by my doctor to help fight "delusions". "Schizophrenia", the doctor said I might have. If I take that medicine for a long time, Pico will stay gone, and I can finally live a normal life..

They gave me that drug again. I put it in my mouth, drank my water, and opened my mouth to prove I took it. They were happy that I was doing this, and they promised it was for my own good..

Once they left, I threw it up.

It hurt so much, but I did it anyway. No way in Hell was I going to keep taking something that took my best friend away! I might as well have murdered him when I took that drug! That whole day was absolute torture because all I could think of was how I killed Pico.. even if I was tricked, I still took that drug, and that's what killed him, and I didn't know where he was anymore. Everything felt wrong, everyone felt against me, I was scared, cold, I wanted to cry, I wanted to find him..

The next morning, he was sleeping by my bedside.

He wasn't sleeping on the bed with me, but rather resting his head on the side while sitting on the ground. I shot awake and shook him, and he looked up with dull eyes. His whole face looked paler than normal, and he looked very weak.. but he still smiled and said, "Good morning, Keith. Did you miss me~?"

I told my parents I wasn't feeling well, so they let me stay home from school. I kept myself locked in my room and laid in bed the whole day, hugging Pico and crying out apologies until my voice gave out. He didn't hate me at all, though. Not once did he blame me for what happened. He was mad at my parents for tricking me, but he didn't hate them either. 

I kept pretending to take the medicine. I pretended Pico wasn't around when I was near people. But I always saw him, and I always talked to him through my thoughts.

Years later, he's still with me. He's still my best friend. 

When I'm thinking about something I saw, he acts it out in front of me to help me remember. When I listen to music, he moves along with the song. Even the scenery begins to change once he starts dancing. When I wake up from a dream, he tries to tell me as much as we can remember about it. 

When I'm sad, he's there. When I'm happy, he's there. When I'm lonely, he's there. 

….

He was my first kiss, too.

It happened after a girl confessed to me in high school. I didn't know her very well, since she was only in one of my classes, and we hadn't talked much at all with each other. It left me confused. She wasn't ugly at all, really pretty actually, but I didn't know anything about her, so.. y'know, why would I go out with a stranger? 

"Have you ever had a crush on someone before?" Pico asked.

"No," I answered, "But you already knew that answer."

"Heh heh, true." He laughed a bit. I remember him swaying a bit in his seat, until he leaned closer to me, his expression turning soft. "Y'know, I have a crush on somebody.. Do you know who it is?"

I didn't answer. Because I already knew the answer.

So that's why I didn't move away when he pressed closer to kiss me.

That kiss? It felt so real.. it was sweet, it was gentle.. he tasted like apple and cinnamon, which was his favorite flavor in anything. I wanted him to keep kissing me, so he did. He gently pushed me down onto the bed and climbed on top, kissing me more and more. I could feel his hands travel under my clothes, raising my shirt to touch my chest, slipping into my pants to rub between my legs..

"Pico.. Pico, nn.. a-anh~"

"I love you, Keith.."

"I-I love you too..!"

"Let's stay together forever, okay?"

"Y-Yes..! I-I wanna be with you, I wanna love you more, I.. Ah~!"

A loud knock on my door startled me awake. "Honey, dinner's ready!" My mother called out. 

I looked down at my body. One of my hands was grabbing my chest, while the other was buried beneath my pants and underwear. I looked back up to see Pico at the door, facing away from me, rubbing and squeezing his own arm. 

.. I started to cry. 

I know Pico isn't real. The countless pictures taken, the way he ends up in places no normal person can get to, the fact that nobody else can hear nor see him but me.. I've accepted the fact that Pico was just someone my brain created for some reason, ever since I was a baby. No matter how hard I wished.. no matter how hard I tried to think of him as a real person.. 

He will always be something my fucked up brain thought of. 

.. but I never want him to go away. Even though I know and accept the fact that he's a hallucination, he's always been there for me in ways that nobody else would ever be. He helps me sleep at night, he makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside, he's always supportive of me..

And he'll always love me, just as I will always love him.

[plutowatchesyou]

MELANCHOLY NIGHTS PT 1 | NCT DREAM

a/n : heyy guys so it seemed like y’all wanted more of this and I did enjoy writing it and even though I’ve started school this week, I’m still in quarantine so i really have nothing better to do. 

𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽

genre : fluff, bad boy au, retro au, high school au

pairings : nct dream x reader

warnings : swearing, mentions of drugs, mentions of drug usage

words : 2,6k

summary : after a chemical high you come crashing down into the hell hole that is reality when the town’s so called bad boys move in next door.

prologue 

masterlist

holy shit.

you were so happy. you were so calm. you floated around this colourful void that had unnaturally coloured palm trees and broken statues of naked people that you swore you knew but you also didn’t really care because “hehe look how small your dick is dude.”

you floated aimlessly not really knowing where you were headed. Now you were in a castle with your brother and Taeyong, they both had on crowns that were titled and clothes that clearly looked like costumes bought from the reject shop next to the bakery down the street.

you sat between them giggling, at what? you don’t know, and frankly you also didn’t care. You turned to Johnny who was laughing his ass off and asked “the fuck you laughing at?” 

he wipes away a single nonexistent tear in a dramatic fashion while gripping your arms tightly “we’re flying Jack, we’re flying!” All three of you burst out laughing as the wind blew your hair in your face, you looked down and saw that the couch you three were sitting on was now floating in the clouds.

usually you would be crying and screaming to get put down but the euphoria running through your system just made a wave of giggles past through you again as you watch your legs dangle over the edge. 

This was nice, you cuddle up to the boys in the hammock that was tied to between the two thick trees in the jungle as you shut your eyes. You were so happy.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ m e l a n c h o l y   n i g h t s ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

ughhhhhhhh.

you woke up feeling like shit, so just a normal morning for you. You turned to your left and almost shit yourself at the sight of your brother. You didn’t remember Johnny getting back home, he must’ve been hella tired since he was still completely dressed. 

after 3 failed attempts of pulling yourself up you finally succeeded, you felt like a ton of rocks, you gripped your head and let out a yawn. You turned to the other side of the bed to find a knocked out Taeyong. You reached over his naked chest and grabbed your phone next to the remaining joint that you and Taeyong shared last night. You tugged at your phone a couple times before the charger detached. 

Opening your phone and scrolling through instagram and twitter for awhile before the intense urge to pee came upon you, you crawled over Taeyong not before taking a snap of Johnny’s drooling face and sending it as streaks.

you entered the small bathroom and closed the door, going straight to the toilet. after doing that shit you wash your dam hands because you ain’t no detty pig. You stared at the mirror. 

yikes.

you dragged your hands over your face and let out a groan. You opened the mirror cabinet grabbing the antidepressants that your doctor prescribed you who knows how long ago.

you slammed the mirror shut and grabbed a tube of concealer that was on the verge of falling off the sink and squeezed some onto the back of your hand before dabbing your finger in it and aggressively rubbing it under your eyes.

you heard groaning as the door slams open, Taeyong stumbles in going to turn on the shower. 

“hey Tae where’s the eyedrops?”

“ughh shit, we need to get more of those, um i think i saw some under the bed.” Taeyong said as he rubbed his already messy bright red hair. You nodded and left the bathroom, not before popping one too many happy pills into your mouth.

you got on your knees and looked under the bed. “god since when last did we clean under here? oi Tae what did we say about having friends over?” you smirked as you turned to Taeyong who had just stopped taking off his pants at the sight of an old used condom dangling from your fingers. “oh shut it y/n, that was ages ago, plus it was the last time she ever saw this fine piece of ass again, she couldn’t even-” Taeyong’s rant was cut off by his own girly screech as the old condom came flying at him. 

you giggled as you grabbed the eyedrops behind a sock and unscrewed the cap before squirting it somewhat evenly between both of your eyes.

you walk into the kitchen and open the cupboard, grabbing a muesli bar. You sit on the counter and start eating it as Johnny stumbles into kitchen turning the kettle on.

“hello sleeping beauty.” you smile at him as he reaches over your head to grab a mug. “morning sunshine.” he replies back, pecking you on the cheek. “when did you get back? must’ve been late since you’re still fully dressed.” you take another bite of the bar.

“yeah, got into a fight with some people last night and decided to drive back home. By the time i got back here the joint you shared with Tae was already out.” he said taking off his shoes and tugging off his jeans before replacing them with one of the many sweatpants lying around. “you drove from the city Johnny, you must’ve been driving all night, I mean what about your classes?”

Johnny smiled and took off his shirt before pouring the hot water into the mug and plopping an instant coffee packet in it. “it’s fine I only missed one class this morning, and plus I would’ve been close to leaving around this time anyway.”

you rolled your eyes as Johnny sipped his coffee. There was a sudden loud knock at the door, you and Johnny looked at each other raising an eyebrow. The knocking soon progressed into banging as it continued. You stuffed the rapper of your muesli bar into Johnny’s pocket and drank some of his coffee.

“for fucks sake will one of you idiots get the damn door!” Tae yelled popping his head out of the bathroom as steam seeped out. You and Johnny laughed and replied in sync “yes mum!”, a slam of the bathroom door came seconds after.

you rolled your eyes at your brother before hopping off the kitchen counter and making your way towards the door, your skyscraper of a brother following you to do his duty of being the overprotective older sibling™.

You unlocked the door and opened it, catching the fist of your door’s assaulter. You released it with a groan as you came face to face with Jeno, behind him was Jaemin and Chenle. “what the fuck do you want?” you said crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.

The three boys stood shocked and silent in front of your door, just staring at you and your brother. Your brother. Oh fuck Johnny was shirtless and you were dressed in one of his shirts. 

See everyone in the town knew you were related to the walking lamp post since when he was school he made sure nobody messed with you, but everyone also hasn’t seen Johnny in almost a year now since he usually stayed inside whenever he came home from the city before driving back there. 

you stopped yourself from slapping the three boys when you saw a blush make it’s way onto Chenle’s face as Jaemin looked down ears red and Jeno’s lips trembled as he kept looking between you and Johnny.

“oh for fucks sake he’s my brother! god males nasty.” you put your hand up before Johnny could protest, “oi you can’t say anything.” Johnny let out a grunt.

“you three how do you know y/n?” you rolled your eyes as you could feel the overprotectiveness radiate from Johnny. The three stumble over their words, you scoffed, so much for a bunch of bad boys. 

“they don’t know me, they’re Jisung’s friends. Why they came banging on our door i have no idea, and frankly i could care less because i’m gonna be late.” you walked under johnny’s arm that was propped on the door frame and walked to the bathroom. 

You opened the door and grabbed the jeans you left in there and tugged them on. “off to work love?” Taeyong asked as he combed his fingers through his hair. “sadly. where you off to?” you asked as you grabbed a brush and started to tug at your own hair. “no where really, i can give you a lift there if i can get a free breakfast.” he gave you a smirk through the mirror. “a discount is all you’re getting.” he just chuckled and pecked your cheek before leaving the bathroom. 

you followed after him and caught the sneakers he threw your way, slipping them on and grabbing your bag and jacket, stuffing your phone and earphones into the pocket of it. You and Tae made your way to the door where a shirtless Johnny still stood. 

“see ya slut.” you giggled slapping him on the ass before squealing when he picked you up giving you a hug before putting you down after Taeyong gave him a smack upside his head. “bye you two, oi wait where you headed?”

“work.”

“breakfast.”

You and Taeyong both replied still walking to the stairs and past the three silent boys that were just observing the moment. “bye you two.” Johnny said as he closed the door.

Tae grabbed you hand and started to ramble on about what he wanted for breakfast, you turned your head to look back at the three boys and frowned at them when you saw them all staring.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ m e l a n c h o l y   n i g h t s ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

you looked up from the magazine as the shops door bell rang. You let out an annoyed sigh as Mark, Haechan and Jisung walked in.

“thought you worked at the old diner y/n” Haechan called out to you as he started flipping through a stack of records. “haven’t seen a girl with two jobs before Haechan?” you smirked back as you used your feet that was propped against the counter to swivel your chair side to side.

You kept your eyes locked onto the magazine when you saw Jisung start to make his way over to you. He leaned on the counter and just looked at you. “aren’t you going to ask if i need any assistance.” you could practically hear the grin when he said that and you resisted the urge to return it. “you’ve been here before you can figure it out.” 

it was silent between you two for a bit before Jisung spoke up, “did i do something wrong.” this made you take your feet off the counter and stand up as Jisung got up from leaning on the counter. 

“i don’t know Jisung, what do you think?” you bit back as you walked out from behind the counter and picked up a stack of records and made your way to the shelves, Jisung following after you like a lost puppy. “okay so can you tell me what exactly did i do?” Jisung mumbled as he watched you sort the records.

“do you wanna tell me why three of your little friends were outside my house banging on my door this morning?” you turned to him and leaned on one leg giving him a ‘you’re gonna get it’ smile.

Jisung gave you a cute confused tilt of his head. “what? who?” you rolled your eyes at him, “who do you think idiot, Dolphin boy, muscle man and pretty boy were just standing at my doorstep this morning, and they even though I slept with my fucking brother.” you walked around the shelves and shuddered at the last part. 

“pretty boy?” he asked innocently with a hint of something else. “I mean I don’t even talk to your moron friends so why the hell were they at my house?” you questioned as you stopped walking and turned sharply around to face Jisung.

“p-pretty boy? who’s pretty boy?” you rolled your eyes and walked past the tall boy and towards Mark and Haechan. “oi since utility poll over there is malfunctioning, why don’t one of you tell me why your friends were banging on my door this morning.” Mark looked up and looked around before his eye landed on you, his mouth still slightly opened.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” Haechan asked, “Chenle, Jeno and Jaemin were knocking on my fucking door this morning and when i answered it they just stood there, opening and closing their mouths like fucking fish.” you leaned against one of the shelves as Jisung comes up behind you. “wait which one of them is ‘pretty boy’?” he pouted and you gave him a ‘seriously dude?’ look before turning your head back to the males in front of you.

“afternoon love, your shift is over for today.” Chris walked in from the back and gave you a bright smile, you returned it. 

“wait did you say Jeno, Chenle and Jaemin?” Mark suddenly asked. You gave him a nod and his eyes widened, “what? what about them Mark?” Haechan asked the older boy. “they were checking out the people who were living near us.” 

silence.

“excuse me, the fuck?” you asked. You turned to Jisung, “oh yeah i forgot to tell you that me and the guys decided to live together so we found this place to rent, Renjun knows the owner of the place so we were able to get a bit of a discount.” you cut Jisung off by walking away.

You made your way to the counter where Chris was and grabbed your bag. “Cheers Chris, will I be sharing the tomorrow’s shift with you?” “uh, um yeah we are.” you smiled and gave him a quick hug that he returned and jumped over the counter. 

“Jisung! you’re walking with me. Come on!” you said storming out the door, Jisung following close behind.

When you made it out onto the street it was pouring down with rain, you pulled your jacket tighter to yourself and jogged across the street to the undercover. Jisung came up beside you, “why you mad at me?”. You looked at him “because how the fuck did you forget to tell me you were moving in with those morons, and how fucking stupid are you to not realise that it was the same building I lived in?!” You started to make your way home through the rain, Jisung walking beside you. “well, you never let me in your house-” “no, you can’t use that excuse. You’ve walked me home multiple times and you’ve even come to my door too.”

the walk back to the apartment complex was just you questioning Jisung and him trying to deflect it. By the time you were climbing the stairs it was silent between the two of you. “look, i’m sorry y/n.” you stopped, turning to look at your friend over your shoulder. “i really am, this was part of the reason i didn’t want to tell you, i was scared of how you would react, i know that you don’t really like the boys, so i didn’t want you to know that i was not only moving in with them, but that i was only just down the hall from where you lived.”

you turned fully around and looped your arms around Jisung’s neck. “look Jisung, i understand why you moved in with the boys, honestly as much as i don’t like those idiots, i’m glad you’re living with them, you’re safer with them. I’m not mad at you, just a bit disappointed.” You hugged the boy and let out a sigh. 

Both of you walked up the stairs, “want to see it?” “huh?” you turned to Jisung raising an eyebrow. “want to see where i live now?”, you shrugged “sure.”

Jisung smiled and grabbed your hand, walking up another flight of stairs, passing your own apartment door and walking down the hall. You both stopped in front of one door and Jisung pulled out a key from his jacket pocket and unlocked the door. hands still linked the two of you walked through the door. 

“what the fuck? don’t tell me you two walked in that rain?!”

end

𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽

like & reblog for part 2 :)

[find-felicity]

Yet another part of my deh fic

I thought I would never finish this fic but I just wrote a scene for the third time and... I'm seriously considering actually doing it. Maybe on ao3 or wattpad. Would anyone be interested? If so please tell me which one would you prefer.

Here are the other two scenes:

https://find-felicity.tumblr.com/post/641319228376547328/another-part-of-my-deh-fic

https://find-felicity.tumblr.com/post/640961612463915008/a-sneek-peek-of-the-deh-fic-ill-probably-never

About the story: in this au after Connor’s suicide attempt he falls into a coma, but he is also seen as a ghost by Evan (actually, only by Evan). Things happen pretty much the same as they do in the musical. This scene takes place after Connor storms out of the computer lab

DISCLAIMER: attempt of suicide

To sleep for days, weeks even

Connor felt exhausted even though he's been lying on his bed for the past 3 hours. His stomach growled which reminded him that he hasn't eaten anything since breakfast and even that was basically cut in half by the argument he had with his mother.

So, like some toast maybe? Or some milk... I can't even remember.

Thinking about food only made him feel worse, so he slowly got up and headed to the kitchen. His knees shaked comstantly, and he could loose his balance any minute. He had to firmly grab the handrail while going down the stairs and still managed to stumble down the last few steps.

Luckily noone was home. Zoey and Cynthia went shopping together and Larry was working late as usual. The house was really quiet. Uncomfortably quiet.

Connor's arm felt week as he opened the fridge. The first thing he saw was the leftovers from last night neatly packed in new tupperware. One of the containers even had his name on the lid. It was spaghetti which he quite liked, although since Cynthia experimented with keto noodles it was harder to enjoy.

He almost smiled thinking about his mother's spaghetti. Same recipe since he could remember but some ingredients always substituted according to Cynthia's newest ideas about a healthy lifestyle.

Like it's going to make any difference in this house. That's almost pathetic.

Suddenly he could clearly remember why he didn't eat dinner last night.

Pathetic. That's what his father said when he told his parents he's thinking about skipping a year before going to collage. Originally, his reason was to gather some ideas and finally figure out what he's going to do with his life, but...

Larry did not care for that. He could only talk about how he wouldn't give him any money if all he wants to do is spend it then do nothing all day.

Connor couldn't even argue with him. He was too mentally drained to even listen to his lecture or his mother's whining about him wasting his opportunities. He just got up, went to his room and stared at the ceiling while listening to some music. Couldn't really help with feeling any better.

Later Zoey came upstairs too and gently knocked on his door.

"Hey, if you... "

"Leave me the fuck alone! " he shouted almost immidiately.

"I just wanted to say" he could hear the sudden change in her voice as she shouted back at the closed door "that you should probably eat something! But fine, starve to death then! "

That is more and more likely to happen each day. Connor thought as he closed the fridge.

His hunger turned into something more like nausea. There were tons of fruit, yogurt and whatever else his mother could think of while grocery shopping but it was already too late. He filled a cup with water and went back to his room. It was still more than nothing.

He placed the glass on his nightstand and laid down again. The ceiling seemed to slowly rotate above him. His eyelids were heavy and his head felt like it could shatter into a million pieces any minute.

Who could say no to another depression nap?

But somehow he couldn't fall asleep. His thoughts kept wandering back to what his father has said to him.

"All you do is sitting in your room! What do you need time for? To figure out your newest addiction? "

How would he even know about the things I do? Of course Larry's always preoccupied with his very important duties as the head of the house. Almost as busy as his lovely wife!

Connor turned over a little too fast and knocked a pillow on the floor.

Fuck both of them.

He bent down to pick it back up but something under his bed caught his eye. He climbed down and pulled out an empty peanutbutter jar. Well, almost empty. Something was ratteling inside and as he wiped some dust off the lid he could clearly remember what it was.

A few months ago his mother was prescribed sleeping pills. He could even remember the proper name: diazepam. It was a serious drug so at first she refused to actually take any. But as time went by she slowly gave in and the pills disappeared from the little orange prescription bottle.

What a familiar feeling. Connor thought with a bitter smile. That's almost ironic.

Cynthia didn't even notice he had taken some of the sleeping tablets. She instatly hid the bottle but it was easier to find than the candy from last halloween. Plus she became forgetful because of the diazepam.

He shaked the bottle so the pills landed in his palm. He grabbed the glass of water and started swirling the liquid around.

I could sleep for days.

Larry may have guessed that Connor had taken some of the sleeping pills but he certainly couldn't find the jar. Instead he found some weed so they had a huge fight as usual.

Maybe he needs some diazepam too. Fuck, diazepam for the whole family!

Connor felt a sudden rush of anger. With one quick move he shoved all the pills in his mouth and swallowed them with a few big gulps of water. He almost choked but managed to get them down.

Seconds, minutes or maybe hours have passed he couldn't tell. His arms and legs started to shake and he dropped the glass he was clutching in his hand. It shattered into a million pieces as Connor's vision started to blur.

It's really happening. I can't believe it.

He collapsed as the front door opened downstairs. He could barely hear their voices.

"Hi, honey! We're back! I bought you a nice new shirt. It's not black but I hope you'll... Connor? "

"He's not even home. "

"He is. His bag is right here. "

There were a few seconds of silence as Connor's room turned into a dark abiss. He could hear his mother coming upstairs and calling his name but her voice was muffled and more and more desperate.

"Connor? Did you lock your door again? Connor?"

Then he couldn't make out the words anymore. With one big sigh everything disappeared as if someone has blown out a candle. Something was pulling him down and Connor was more than ready to give in.

Finally. I could sleep for weeks.

[ursa-mediocre]

My dog died today, and it fucking sucks.

She’d had symptoms of a collapsing trachea for a while, mainly a weird cough when she got excited or if pressure was put on her neck. Around March she was due for a dental cleaning where they intubated her and I asked the vet if that’d be an issue but they didn’t seem worried about it so I went ahead with it. Afterwards she had a different sort of cough for a long enough time that I contacted the vet again and they said it was most likely irritation from being intubated that should clear up. I did make her an appointment when I called but it was for a couple weeks out and in between then the cough did get better to the point I considered cancelling it.

A week before her appointment she had what turned out to be an arthritis flair up and I took her to the Emergency Vet and so decided to keep the appointment at her vet. At the appointment the vet was more worried about the cough while I was more worried about the arthritis since the cough was sorta back to pre-intubation frequency. He prescribed a tapering course of prednisone which seemed to help both issues a lot but there wasn’t any discussion of follow up after the course was over. But during and a couple weeks after she was fine so I wasn’t too worried about it.

Then a few weeks ago she started coughing again, and it was sort of up and down. I wanted to wait and see if it’d improve when the weather did, because at this point I was feeling like every time I went to the vet freaked out about something I left feeling silly. Tuesday I finally made her an appointment, but they were booking out a month so it wasn’t until August 17th.

Today my family is having a memorial service for my uncle who died a few months ago, because his family wanted to bury him here but lived on the west coast. After the service the plan was to have people over our house, so we’ve also been preparing for that and have had people over the last two nights (she got lots of affection from my cousin’s kids which was nice).

Last night she was coughing really bad. I could hear her pacing in the hall, going back and forth between my parents’ room and my room. I’ve been giving her honey to try and help sooth her throat, and tried to get her to calm down, but it seemed like she couldn’t lay down without immediately having to stand up and cough.

Around 4 AM I took her to the emergency vet. I thought they’d just have to give her some sedatives or cough suppressants and maybe a prescription for steroids or anti-inflammatories. They put her on supplemental oxygen and said she’d probably have to stay the day to stabilize and then they’d take chest X-rays to see what was up and let me know.

So I got home around 5:30 and tried to sleep, and they called me around 2 hours later to tell me that she was still having trouble breathing, and they weren’t able to take X-rays yet but had done an ultrasound and found fluid in her lungs and asked me for permission to intubate and do CPR if necessary, which I’ve been asked about for other procedures so I consented not thinking they’d actually have to.

Then they called again an hour later and said that they had intubated her, lost her heartbeat, were performing CPR, and asked how quickly I could get there.

My mom drove me and when I got there they had gotten her heartbeat back but she wasn’t aware of anything. They took me to see her, and said that they weren’t sure if the fluid was from congestive heart failure, a blood clot, pneumonia, or irritation from the collapsing trachea, but that she’d probably need to go on a ventilator for any further treatment. We opted to try to get chest X-rays before deciding because she said that heart failure could possibly be treated. But when they went to do that they lost her heartbeat again so I had make the decision to let her go.

It was kind of funny when we got back to the room she was in because this tiny dog was surrounded by like a dozen women (one was standing on a chair?) and they had just gotten her heartbeat back again. But the vet had them unhook her from everything and took us to a room to sit with her. I held her wrapped up in a blanket like a baby. I couldn’t help but think that my own mother there with me had lost an actual baby and how unbearable that seems when my heart’s this broken over a dog.

I don’t know how long she was actually still alive while we sat there. There were a couple tiny coughs and noises when they first handed her to me but I don’t remember feeling her try to breath at all (she had had to be intubated after all, so she probably couldn’t). I told her I was sorry, because I was. I wish I had been a better medical advocate for her with her own vet, because not being able to go into the room with her through covid during appointments made it really difficult to know if they were seeing what I was seeing with her. I wish I had taken her in sooner. I wish I had known at 4:30, when she climbed into my lap as we pulled into the parking lot, that I should have said a proper goodbye then rather than immediately hand her over to the vet tech that came for her. I wish I had spent every moment I could have with her, giving her non stop attention. I told her that I loved her. I told her she was the best dog. The best Lola she could be.

I had to remember to call her previous owner, a girl that’s a few years younger than me. We had had visits every so often after I got Lola, but hadn’t in over a year because of covid. She texted me a few months ago saying that if it were possible she wanted to be with Lola when her time came. Part of the reason I wanted the X-rays was to get even a day or two so we could do proper goodbyes. But I had her talk on the phone with her instead, even though I knew she wasn’t really with us anymore.

I told her my plan was to have her cremated so she could have some of the ashes. We went over that with one of the vet techs, who helped set it up with a facility they partner with. She offered to take a paw print and I had had her make it with her paw that was missing a toe because that was uniquely Lola.

Lola hated people touching her paws. She never would’ve sat still in my lap for so long. She hated getting wet, she wouldn’t go for walks in the rain, and the top of her head was soaked in snot and tears. In her younger days if she caught me crying she’d try to lick up all my snot and get up my nose because she loved the taste of boogers. Her tongue was sticking out the whole time and turning blue before I finally stuck it back in her mouth.

I didn’t want to stop petting her. Her fur was so soft. Her little ears were so perfect and round from her last haircut. I don’t want to pet my dad’s dog because it feels like a betrayal. They walked her to the door with us, but wrapped her back up kind of clumsily so her back legs and tail flopped out and up like how she used to sleep when she was younger and it was hot. I used to grab them and call them her ‘lil chicken legs’.

I don’t want to think about where she is right now. Everyone there was very kind and respectful, I know the practicalities of body storage. I don’t actually want her to be cremated, but I also don’t want to bury her. I just want her to be here, I want to touch her fur and see her dumb foxy face. But I’m not about to fucking taxidermy my dog.

So now it’s about 2:30. My dog has been dead at least 5 hours. I hate it so far.

My dad and older brother were waiting outside when we got home. I put her paw print in the fridge until we can bake it. I went into the living room and saw her bed on the floor and had to go back outside for a minute. I poured out the water bowl I kept in my room for her. My family left for the memorial service, I tried to sleep more. Around 1:30 I got up and ate something for the first time today. There are people coming to the house soon to mourn an actual human.

I have to cancel her vet appointment. I have to cancel her CareClub and flea & tick medicine subscription. I have to clean her dishes, beds, toys, etc and figure out what to do with them. There are still treats in ‘her’ backpack, the one I would take with us hiking so she could ride in it when she got tired.

My family is very supportive, I have savings to cover whatever the final medical expenses will be. Lola was 14 (and 1/2!) and spoiled rotten. I hope she knows I loved her and did my best to take care of her. I hope she knows that’s why I took her to the hospital and wasn’t too scared there.

I’m not good at talking about my feelings. I just end up crying and I don’t like crying so I try to avoid it. I don’t really want or need anything other than for this not to have happened, which isn’t something anyone can provide. I think writing this all out has helped. But this happened today, and it fucking sucks.

[looselucy]

Epilogue

August 22nd – Harry’s POV Thirteen years of living with her, and I still wasn’t quite accustomed to how it felt to wake beside Alfie every morning.

Each day was met with this quiet elation, especially when I was lucky enough to wake up first, watch her peacefully slumbering. I would simply lay on my side and embrace those few moments of harmony, playing with her hair and not taking my eyes off her for even a second. It was exactly how I’d wanted to spend my Monday morning. It had been how I’d spent most of my mornings for thirteen long years. I’d only been back in Rosebury for three months before I asked her to move in with me. She had been adamant that we take things slowly, go about things as though it was a brand-new relationship, but I wanted to live with her so badly. She was round at mine most of the time anyway, so to me it had made sense to just ask. And though she said no the first time I asked, after a few more months of practically begging her, she moved into the home I had initially bought for my mother, and we made it our own just in time for Christmas. Thirteen years and I was still in awe of how it felt to wake in our bed, to know I had a life with her. I leaned into her, placing the softest kiss I could upon her lips in the hope of not waking her, but as I pulled away, I noticed there was a smile on her face, proving that I hadn’t quite managed it. She opened her eyes, the morning light unforgiving as she blinked in the new day. “Morning.” Her voice was sweet, fractured. “Morning, Fee. Happy Birthday.” “Oh shit. It’s my birthday?” She whined, turning her head into the pillow. “Yep.” I chuckled. “Another year older, still as beautiful as you were the very first time I saw you.” “What, in my neck-brace?” She looked at me again and laughed. “Well it’s not hard to be, is it?” “Fair point.” I snickered. “You still looked good though.” “You talk shit.” “M’serious!” She didn’t have to believe me because I knew it was true. Even with her neck-brace and her gym-wear on, nothing could have covered how beautiful she was. She caught my eye so quickly, and I knew she’d always thought that was because I’d spotted her injury, but I wasn’t sure that was entirely to blame. She went all shy, rushing to give me a peck on the lips before she went back into hiding, burying her pink cheeks into the duvet. “You should’ve stayed asleep. M’gunna make you breakfast in bed.” I said. “Hm.” She didn’t seem too impressed by the gesture. “What?” I queried as she revealed herself to me again. “Y’know what’s better than breakfast in bed?” She smiled. “Cooking breakfast with you.” That’s what I loved about her and our relationship. There was always this sense of teamwork, solidarity, cooperation, support. There was no more give than there was take on either end, we simply worked together as a unit and that was what made us happy. She knew that she’d get more pleasure from spending her time making breakfast with me than she would simply receiving the breakfast. There was more to gain that way. “Alright, let’s make breakfast together then.” “Kiss me first.” She demanded sweetly. “You needy thing.” I hushed, leaping to lay my body on top of hers and kiss her the way she deserved to be kissed; with every ounce of strength and love I had in me. It felt incredible to see her so bright, so happy. I could feel the way she smiled as I kissed her, something I didn’t think I could ever tire of. Every day with her felt exciting. We were settled with one another and our lives together, that much was clear, but there was an exhilaration there that I was confident would never fade. Maybe it was partly to do with the fact we’d lost each other at one point, like there was an appreciation there, an awareness of what life was like without the other, how bland and meaningless. Or maybe that’s just what happens when you’re with the right person. Maybe real love never loses its light. I kissed her until she was breathless, then swiftly I clambered off her, smirking and watching her whilst I grabbed our dressing gowns from the back of the door, throwing hers over her happy little face before putting mine on and fastening it tight. “C’mon then!” “Okay, I’m up, I’m up!” She cried, throwing herself out of bed and putting her gown on before she started chasing me out of the room. She caught up to me and grabbed at my hand, rearranging my fingers so that she could slot her own between them, my stomach still leaping due to the contact. Thirteen years, and my body still burst with giddy glee at the most minor of touches, everything from hand holding to how she would sometimes search for me in her sleep, her mind trapped in dreams and her physical form finding me, as though I was the embodiment of her subconscious fantasies. I loved the life I’d built with her. After she’d moved into our home, we spent some time debating over what we should do with her old apartment above the shop, and we’d eventually realised that our best option was to turn it into a gallery. I kept my most precious pieces there, the few I didn’t want to sell, and people would travel to Rosebury to see them, wander up into that small space and immerse themselves in what I regarded as my favourite pieces. It was a wonderful space. I still painted and Alfie still worked in her shop when she could, and other than those times where I’d need to travel for work, we spent most of our time together. Whenever we were apart it physically stung. I always rushed home to her. “You make the brews.” I grinned as we walked into the kitchen, lightly smacking her arse as she headed towards the kettle, laughing at how she squealed delightedly over my touch. In my younger years, especially my darkest years – at university and my first time living in New York, I hadn’t ever really thought about my future, how it might look, what I wanted. I had been so lifeless and lost that considering how things might be down the line had never been something that entered my mind. The only time I ever started thinking about the future was when I’d met Alfie. I should have known instantly that was because she would be the centre of my life from that point forward. From the very first fucking time we’d met, she had eclipsed my life then and every day since. I knew that wasn’t ever going to fade. I knelt down and opened the cupboard door ahead of me to get out all the necessary equipment. “So what do you fancy?” I asked her, continuing when she didn’t answer. “Summat little or Full English? I feel like we should go all out. With it being your birthday. Fee?” I turned to her, noticing her blank expression, the way she just stared forward like she’d seen a ghost, zoned out and empty. I dropped everything that had been in my hands, the pans and cutlery clattering on the floor as I practically jumped to her, standing in front of her in an attempt to grab her attention, snap her out of it. “Fee?” I tried again, but there was nothing. I really didn’t want to panic. I really didn’t want to expect the worst, but I could feel her fading. I could see a haze clouding her mind and taking everything away from her. I could fucking see it. The mug she had been holding fell from her loosening grip, shattered across the kitchen floor, and that’s when I couldn’t hold in my fear any longer. “Fuck, Fee, stay with me.” I grabbed at the side of her neck, pressed my forehead against hers, holding her as steadily as I could when she stumbled due to my strong hold, but she was still completely blank. “Please stay with me. Listen to my voice, okay? Listen to my voice, I don’t wanna lose you.” It wasn’t working. Slowly, she was fading away again, right before my eyes. Everything I loved about her, all our memories, all of who we were, just disappearing into nothing. My bottom lip began to tremble, fighting tears. “Alfie, do you remember who I am? Can you tell me my name?” She didn’t have an answer for me. She didn’t have anything other than the drop of her brows, which was almost an answer in itself. It told me she was confused, desperately searching for the correct, or any, response to my question, but she was unable to find one. It told me she didn’t know my name. It told me that her Alzheimer’s was flaring up once again.

2 years earlier… “No. No, that can’t be right.” Harry blurted from beside me, keeping desperate hold of my hand. “Please tell me that’s not right. She’s only thirty-six! That can’t be right!” “I’m really sorry.” My doctor replied simply. “I know you were both hoping for better news.” It was the worst-case scenario. It was the exact news we’d been dreading. It had started with really small things that Harry had noticed before even I had, how I would misplace things, struggle to find the right words. Then my memory really started to fail me, and even things like my vision took a hit, and that’s when Harry forced me to book an appointment with the doctor. I think he’d done that in the hope that we could rule Alzheimer’s out for good. But the opposite had happened. “Well… What can we do? How can we stop it?” Harry wailed as I sat in silence, attempting to let it all sink in. “I’m afraid there’s no known cure at this moment in time. But what I need you to do is have a good routine,” He addressed me. “Keep your mind active, and for now that’s all we can do.” “But-” “I’m sorry, Harry. Maybe further down the line if she’s having depressive episodes or struggling to sleep, there are things we can do and medications we can prescribe. But other than that, the best you can do is take it day by day and keep her happy.” I had no idea what to say. All I could do was hold his hand as tightly as I could, prove to him I was still there with him even though I couldn’t say a word. Maybe I’d been expecting the diagnosis in some ways. I knew it could be hereditary in some cases, so it was something I’d worried about sparsely since my mother was diagnosed, but then I’d always pushed it to the back of my mind, told myself that it wouldn’t happen to me. It was terrifying to have to acknowledge that it was already happening. “H-how long do we have?” Harry asked next. “It varies. You could have many, many happy years together. Just because she’s been diagnosed, doesn’t mean that it’s the end. Best-case scenario, this is the extent of it. It might not get any worse.” “And worst-case scenario?” Harry hadn’t needed to ask that. It had been a matter of months between my mother’s diagnosis and her moving into that home for assisted living. That’s all it had taken. Harry knew that already; I don’t know why he needed to hear it from my doctor. I guess it was disbelief more than anything. A refusal to face what we both knew. As scared as I was, I couldn’t imagine how that felt for him. If and when my mind began to truly disappear, I wouldn’t even know about it. Harry was the one who would have to watch it happen, to witness my demise, to lose me in the most painful way. He would be the one handling the most agonising repercussions of my illness and that made it even worse. I didn’t want him to go through that, ever. I couldn’t imagine how he felt then, having to acknowledge the possibility that in just a few months’ time, I might not even be able to recognise him. “Maybe… a few months…” My doctor managed to say, before Harry broke completely, dropping his head into his free hand and sobbing. And still, I sat in silence, hoping I had more time than my mother had, hoping that this illness wouldn’t be something that ruined Harry’s life as well as mine. I hoped he could be more selfish than my father had managed to be, but I knew he wouldn’t be. It would be history repeating itself all over again. I kept tight hold of his hand as he wept, still unable to find any words to share. I was terrified.

I opened the door to Robert, saw the way his smile dropped as soon as he’d noted the exhausted look on my face. He had planned to come around and spend the day with his daughter on her birthday, but he could tell instantly that he wouldn’t be so lucky. The sun was no longer shining, dark clouds hanging so low I thought they might be touching the tops of the trees that surrounded our home. It sometimes felt as though the sun couldn’t shine without her. “How is she?” He asked before he could even greet me. “Not so good.” I answered, stepping aside to welcome him. “What’s happened?” He asked as he entered, taking off his coat. “I dunno, I just lost her.” I tried to stay calm, to hold in my tears. “She was fine and then she just… She just disappeared.” “Where is she now?” “She’s upstairs sleeping.” “Okay. We’ll leave her to it. Hopefully she’ll wake up feeling more like herself. Let’s have a cuppa, eh?” I liked having Robert around. He understood my situation better than anyone else, though I’d gotten much luckier than he had with Rita. It had been over two years since Alfie was first diagnosed, and most days she was okay. It wasn’t often she completely vanished like she had that morning, whereas Robert had all but lost his wife in a matter of weeks. Rob was never condescending, he never compared my situation to his, and as agonising as it was losing my Fee that way, I could never imagine how he felt. To have lost his wife to that disease and now his daughter, I couldn’t even comprehend it. To have had to witness them both slowly fading away. He always remained resilient, positive, trying to make the most of the horrific hand he had been dealt. No one had my respect in the way he did. “You sit yourself down, son.” He demanded once we were in the kitchen, heading towards the kettle. “Talk to me.” “I… I don’t even know what to say.” I sighed. “It’s good to talk. Not so easy, but good.” He knew I wasn’t much good at talking. Alfie had always been the person I wanted to talk to, the person who I was most comfortable expressing my feelings to. When it came to everyone else, it didn’t come quite as naturally, even after all the therapy I’d had over the years. Fee had helped me to see that just because I’d stopped seeing my therapist in New York didn’t necessarily mean I should stop altogether. So, after moving back to Rosebury, I did some research and travelled fortnightly to our closest city to see a therapist, to continue learning and growing. I’d done that for a few years, until I truly felt in my heart that I was ready to stop. I knew how beneficial talking was, even though it was difficult. I couldn’t talk to her, not about this. I had to confide in someone else. Robert was the best person for that. “I’m angry.” I admitted, ignoring his instructions to sit down and instead washing up the items I’d used that morning, still making breakfast in the hope of bringing her around, but I’d failed. “Okay. Angry about what?” “So many things. I’m angry on your behalf. Aren’t you pissed off?” I asked him. “Uh… I try not to be. But… sometimes. Yes, sometimes it makes me angry.” “You don’t fucking deserve this. No one does, but least of all you.” I rambled. “And doesn’t it piss you off the way that people try to… own things that are fucking traumatic?” “What do you mean?” “When something bad happens, somewhere or to someone… people really latch onto it. They use it like it’s their own. Talk about how well they knew them. Or how they’d been somewhere where something bad happened, y’know? You wanna see the way Chloe talks about Alfie. They haven’t been close for years and yet Chloe talks about her like she’s lost her best friend and it makes me so fucking angry. Like someone else’s pain is her opportunity to gain some sympathy, it’s fucking twisted.” “Mm.” “People try to own trauma for their own gain, and I keep seeing that happen with Alfie and it makes me so, so angry.” Tears began to fall, my voice began to quiver. “Bu-but when you encounter real fucking trauma, that’s when you know you don’t want anything to do with it. You want to stay as far away from it as fucking possible, you don’t wanna fucking claim it and draw yourself towards it. Why the fuck do people do that? I don’t fucking want this.” I lay my hand on my chest, crying heavily. “If people want that pain so much, take all of it. I don’t want an inch of this, it’s fucking awful.” “I know it is. I know.” I loved Alfie with everything I was, everything I ever could be. She meant everything to me, and I would stick by her through anything, but it didn’t make our situation any easier. It made it harder, if anything. Some days I’d look in her eyes and see her fucking soul, but when her Alzheimer’s sparked that way I would see nothing at all, no sign of recognition, no love, no evidence of the woman I had been with and built a life with for so many years. The agony of looking into her eyes and seeing nothing was beyond any pain I had ever experienced in my life. That sort of loss is something I had never been able to imagine and would never be able to describe. And I was so frustrated by the way people had started using her as a pawn for attention and cruel compassion. Only a few weeks earlier, myself and Libby had been having a quiet drink in The Tin Mouse when we’d overheard someone talking about her, some lad who barely knew her, talking about how they’d been friends, how sad it was, talking about her mum like he knew anything. I was glad Libby was there to calm me down, tell me not to listen, drag me away from him. She’d had to lure me away from a fight that evening, my first in years. I was so close to snapping. No one can speak openly about things like that if they really hurt them. You don’t just nip down the pub and express your darkest sufferings, talk to whoever’s around you about it like it’s nothing. If they really wanted that pain, they could take all of it as far as I was concerned. “Pay them no mind.” Robert simply said. “You’ve got enough to worry about here without concerning yourself with how everyone else is dealing with it. Just focus on how you’re dealing with it.” “I don’t think I’m dealing with it well. I know I’m lucky. I know it could be worse, but like… even now, I miss her. I miss her so fucking much. I miss her presence. I miss her knowing my name. Because it’s not just her memories that go, it’s all of her.” “I know it is, Harry. I know.” “How did you do this?” I wept. “How could I not?” He simply stammered through a heavy breath, and it made perfect sense. It wasn’t necessarily this feeling of responsibility, like I had to do it because I loved her and I’d told her I would spend my life with her. It wasn’t that. It wasn’t that I felt obligated to stand by her, or that Robert had felt obligated to stay with Rita even when she reached the stage where she really didn’t know who he was. It was because I loved her. That was why there was no other option than to just do it, to face it head on, to be there with her and for her through everything. She was the person I wanted to spend my life with, whether or not that was a life she recognised or remembered, it was the life I wanted. She was the person I wanted. I had to stand by her through everything. How could I not?

12 years earlier… We swayed one way as the room swayed the other, my arms hung around Harry’s neck as he lay his hands on my waist and we stepped side to side slowly. “Look at ‘em.” He grinned, nodding towards the newlyweds. I looked to my left, the way Libby lay her head on Louis’ shoulder, a new place she could call home for the rest of her life. He just held her, the two of them dancing close-by, central to all the couples who were on their feet slowly dancing to Across the Universe. “M’so happy for them.” I sighed softly, laying my head on his chest. “Mm. I know. Me too.” He kissed the top of my head, the two of us dancing in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “Do you want this?” “Want what?” I lifted my head to look at him. “Y’know. Marriage.” He looked down. “All this stuff. Is it something you want?” I took a few minutes as I considered his question, looking around the room and taking in the sights, thinking over what we’d witnessed that day and what it all meant. As wonderful as it was, I knew my answer hadn’t shifted. As wonderful as Harry was, I knew I didn’t feel any differently about marriage than I always had. “Not really.” I answered honestly. “It’s a lot of fuss, innit?” “Yeah,” He sniggered. “If you look at it that way.” “I dunno. I guess it’s just another one of those things. I don’t have that desire in me. I don’t really want any of this. I mean… I want you.” I told him, noticed how he blushed like he wasn’t already well aware, gnawing his lip shyly. “But I don’t really need any of this additional stuff to prove anything, or confirm anything. M’happy just being with you, y’know?” “Mm.” “Unless… Unless you want this stuff?” “I don’t.” He grinned. “You don’t?” “No. If it was something you needed, then I’d have proposed in a heartbeat. Anything to be with you, anything to make you happy, you know that.” Now I was the one blushing. “But I feel the same way. I get why it means something to people, and I love that. But… maybe m’just one of those cynical people who thinks it’s just paperwork.” “I know exactly what you mean.” “I don’t need that to promise I’ll be with you through everything. I’ll just promise it. Out loud. I’ll… scribble on a piece of paper. I’ll paint it on every canvas I own.” He was making me laugh, in this weird way of endearment, somehow. “Because it’s definitely not through lack of commitment. That’s not why. I’m committed to you more than you’ll ever know. But… I don’t need this.” “I don’t either.” I loved that we felt the same way about it. It was like how we’d always felt the same way about not having children; it just made our lives so much easier. It’s topics and things like that which can ultimately tear couples apart, bring an end to good relationships. When there are fundamental differences in what each person wants and desires at their very core, it can break love down. We didn’t have to worry about that. We wanted the same things, felt the same way. Sometimes it truly felt like we were perfect for one another. “I promise I’m yours.” I whispered up to him. “And I promise I’m yours.” He whispered back. “Forever. Through everything.” It was so extraordinarily wonderful to hear that and not immediately question him or have any doubts. Since Harry had come back into my life, he had proven to me in every single way he could that the promise he’d made then was one he intended to keep. He had instilled this confidence in me that I might have thought was impossible during the earliest months of our relationship, taken away those doubts I’d had. I didn’t think he was going to disappear, I didn’t ever feel like I was trying to work him out or figure out who we were as a couple, I didn’t feel distant from him in any way. I had always thought the world of him, and he knew that, but there had been parts of our relationship that I really struggled with, things I wanted to change so we could be better and work better as a pairing. Those changes had been made. “I love you.” He told me quietly as we continued to dance. I closed my eyes, lay my head back on his chest, listened to the beat of his heart. I didn’t need any more of a promise from him than that.

By the early afternoon when Libby, Louis and Niall arrived, the rain outside was relentlessly unforgiving, meaning they’d driven the short distance to get to ours, but even the walk from the car to my front door seemed to have left them all drenched. “Uncle Harry!” Ronan squealed as he leapt up into my arms. Niall and Sean had adopted him only a few days after he was born, meaning the little lad had been brightening up my life for over three years. Me and Alfie had never wanted our own kids, but it was amazing to have Ronan there, a little one we could look after and love without that full, lifelong commitment that neither of us had ever desired. But there is something incredibly warming about children. Having him leap from Niall’s arms right into mine, to wrap himself around me like that, it was the first thing to make me smile for hours. We loved being Uncle Harry and Auntie Alfie. The three of them let themselves inside and took off their coats as I continued cuddling him, feeling comforted. “Y’alright?” I eventually asked them all. “Yeah, good.” Louis answered. “Where’s the birthday girl?” “Um… She… She’s not doing so good today.” “Shit.” He knew what I meant straight away, and unsurprisingly, his first concern was me. “You alright?” “Yeah, m’fine. Rob’s here, so… y’know. That helps.” “Is your mum coming?” “She’s here too. She’s upstairs trying to talk to Fee.” She’d arrived around an hour earlier and then gone upstairs to try and get some sense out of Fee about fifteen minutes before they’d arrived, but due to the fact I hadn’t heard a peep from either of them since, it didn’t seem like she was having much luck. My mum definitely saw Alfie as her own, the daughter she’d never had. They had this bond that I couldn’t describe, like they’d known each other their whole lives, like they connected on a level I couldn’t even see. I knew that had only deepened when Jack died. It had happened around four years earlier, when she’d received a call saying he was in a hospital not far from her. Despite everything, she called me and we had both rushed to him, forgetting all the suffering he’d put us through, all the bad things that had happened, the grief he’d caused. He was still her son and my brother. That was one of the few times I could clearly see just how strong love and forgiveness could be. It was the first time since I was a child that my family had felt strong in any way shape or form. We felt like a unit again, like people who wanted to help and heal one another rather than abandon and tear each other apart. But we’d lost him. He was only thirty-seven when he’d died. Jack’s lifestyle hadn’t changed much since we’d both seen him last, when he stole from me and my mum without either of us knowing, targeting the two of us in just matter of days. He’d still been in and out of prison, he was still on the dark path he’d chosen for himself and refused to step off, but that path had lead him into the belly of the beast. He’d crashed his car when fleeing a home he’d broken into, and though he’d put up a decent fight, two days after the accident his body had surrendered, and he’d passed away with me and our mum by his side. It had been so much more trying and upsetting than I could have ever anticipated. He’d brought me nothing but anguish for so many years, and he’d done nothing to change or better himself since before he’d even reached his teenage years, but we both still felt this inordinate guilt, similar to how we had when my dad Billy had taken his life. There was this unpleasant and unsettling sensation, that thought of what might have been different if we had done more for him, supported him more, helped him to help himself instead of wanting to run from him for our own sake. I wasn’t sure we would have ever been able to get through to him, but maybe there was more we could have done, but it was too late to ever know. Thankfully, this loss brought me and my mum closer together, unlike when my dad had died. I’d half expected us to shatter again, but we’d thankfully learnt from our mistakes and allowed the harm to bring us this new bond. We knew we couldn’t lose each other again, not after everything. We were the only part of our family left and we needed to cherish that in every way we could. “You lot get settled,” I sighed, handing Ronan back to his dad. “I’ll go check on them.” “Do you need anything?” Libby offered. “Nah, m’good.” “Tell her I’m here.” Niall forced a grin. “She’s bound to remember her favourite person.” Niall had always been soft, covering his insecurities and fears with humour, but he seemed to struggle that little bit more when it came to what was happening to Alfie. Even then, he’d tried to make some sort of joke, but I could tell how much it was actually breaking his heart. He didn’t cope well when she wasn’t herself. None of us did. They went through into the living room to join Robert as I headed upstairs to see how my mum was getting on, rushing up to our room to find Alfie sat on the edge of the bed and my mother crouched at her side. “Hey, look who it is!” My mum was overly cheery, trying to bring some life out of Fee, who sat despondently staring into the distance. “You know who this is, don’t ya?” I got down on one knee next to my mother, right in front of Alfie, catching her eye and her attention, smiling as brightly as I could and taking her hand in mine, acting like nothing was wrong even when I saw the way she looked over my face, trying so desperately to place a name to my face, trying to recall the millions of memories we shared, but it was as though they were no longer there. If death was the belly of the beast, that disease was the mouth, the enlarged jaw, the sharpened teeth, the thirst for blood and the saliva it drew. Losing her was like being devoured alive. I gave her the most encouraging smile I could, squeezing her hand. “C’mon, boss.” I tried. “I’m missing you. You wanna come downstairs? Everyone’s here to see you.” I wasn’t getting through to her. I could see it in her eyes that what I was saying did not make sense. She withdrew her hand so that it was no longer mine to hold, looking down to her lap. “M'sorry, I have such a bad headache.” She trembled. “Can I be on my own for a while?” “Fee-Fee-” I started to shake. “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling myself.” “I know.” I gripped her hand again, becoming frantic, even though I knew that wouldn’t help. “I know you’re not, b-but I think if you just came downstairs and saw everyone, you’d-” “When’s my mum getting here? I shouldn’t be here without my mum.” Tears poured over my eyes as rain crashed unremittingly against the windows in our bedroom, my heart breaking all over again. I just wanted her to go downstairs and talk to the people who had been in her life since she was a child, because maybe that would make sense to her. Maybe that would bring her back to me. I always thought back to the theoretical bookcases she had, what I’d learnt about Alzheimer’s when she’d first told me about her mum. It helped me to make sense of her mood changes, the things she said and the way she acted when she was going through a particularly bad spell. When things got bad, I would picture her bookcases in my mind. The bookcase on the left; old, feeble, holding her memories. And then the bookcase on the right; strong, secure, in charge of her emotions. Every time she vanished that way, I took it as though an earthquake had hit, rocked each case, and the books on the left had fallen from their place, leaving her with only the option to pick books from the lower shelves. She seemed to be talking as though she was young, like her mum was still alive and should have been there with her holding her hand through this. She was lost and confused and sad and it killed me to see her like that. That was why I wanted her to go downstairs, talk to her friends, talk to the people who had been in her life since she was so small. Her and Louis had known each other since they were babies, and if her mind could only pluck at her earliest memories, I knew that he would be there. And if he was there that might calm her and that might keep her happy, which was the most important thing. Nothing mattered more than keeping the bookcase that shelved her emotions filled with books of joy and content, even if she didn’t remember where they’d come from. I wanted to bring her back to me. I just wanted my Fee-Fee back.

13 years earlier… During his first few weeks back in Rosebury, Harry hadn’t really made himself known. We’d stayed sort of cooped up in his house, figuring things out, falling in love all over again, catching up with one another and deciding how our relationship should look moving forward. But over the past week or so, he’d started to reintroduce himself to our little village, make himself at home again. He’d been to the pub with everyone, told them he was planning on moving back, that he even wanted to start running his classes again. That night, the two of us were in The Tin Mouse, sat side by side, waiting for everyone to arrive so we could break what I felt was some of the most important news Harry had to share with everyone. “Lincoln’s gunna hate me.” He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. “He won’t. He’s not like that.” “Y’know… me and Lin proper got on when I first moved here. Proper got on. But then as soon as I clocked on that he liked you, I got all weird about him.” He turned his head and looked at me. “I dunno why I’m like that. I don’t wanna be like that. And I don’t want him to hate me.” “He kinda already knows, y’know. About us, I mean.” “He does?” “Yeah. He guessed before you came around to mine that morning, when he was there.” “When I told you I loved you?” “Mm.” I nodded. “And Louis knows. I mean, they don’t have a clue we’re back together now, but they know we were together when you lived here before.” “What about Niall and Libby?” “Clueless. I mean, both of them had little inklings back in the day, but nothing more than that.” “They had inklings too? Shit.” He huffed, picking up his pint and taking a sip. “We really mustn’t have been as sly as I thought we were. Like, I thought we hid it well.” “M’not too sure.” I chuckled. “Maybe it was too big to hide.” He acknowledged profoundly, then snapped. “Also, I go proper doe-eyed when I look at you, which is probably very noticeable.” “You should try and get that under control.” I smirked. “Trust me, I’ve tired.” He grinned. “It’s impossible.” I leaned towards him and kissed his cheek, which spurred him to turn his head and grab my jaw so he could pull me back to him and leave a luscious kiss upon my lips, lingering his love upon my pout. When he pulled away, he looked at me with those exact eyes he’d just been speaking about. I couldn’t wait to tell everyone about us. I couldn’t wait for everyone to know and to finally be in a relationship that wasn’t happening behind closed doors. What I had with Harry was the most magnificent thing I had ever experienced in my life, I was bursting to talk about it with the enthusiasm and joy it deserved. I didn’t want to admit it to Harry, but I was pretty apprehensive about Lin finding out too. I imagined he already had an idea since Harry was moving back, and the same could be said for Louis, but everything that had happened with Lincoln was still really fresh. He didn’t have a bad or bitter bone in his body, I knew that, but it was bound to be strange for him. He was the first to arrive, stepping into the pub only a few moments after mine and Harry’s kiss, but I was glad he’d caught us in a less compromising position. I’d asked him to get there a little earlier than the rest, just so we could tell him without the others being there. As soon as he saw us, his face dropped somewhat, before the door had even closed behind him. He knew. I shot an encouraging smile his way, noticing the way he took a deep breath in as though to prepare himself, before he came over to our table, sat himself down across from us. From the corner of my eye, I saw Harry drop his gaze, looking down to the table rather than at him. It seemed like this was in my hands. “You okay?” I asked Lin. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He sighed. “How’re you two?” “Yeah, we’re fine. We just kinda wanted to… chat to you.” “Yeah. I think I know what it’s about.” He sniggered dejectedly. Harry still couldn’t look at him. I should’ve known he’d be like that, all defensive and jealous and ridiculous until it got down to actually facing Lin, acknowledging his feelings. Harry wasn’t a bad person; in fact, he was incredibly caring when it came to others, incredibly conscious of other people’s feelings. He was good at picking up on things and going out of his way to make others feel better. It was why he’d always been so good with those self-defence classes. Beyond the jealousy, when it actually came down to Lin and how he was feeling, when it actually came to sitting down in front of him that way, Harry’s anger and arrogance was nowhere to be found. “M'sorry, I hate doing this, it feels so weird, but after everything’s that’s gone on recently, I feel like I should.” I got straight to it. “Me and Harry have been talking a lot since he came back and figuring stuff out and… we really wanna try and… make this work.” “As in… you’re getting back together?” “Yeah. We… We have a lot of history, and we-” “Yeah, I uh… I saw that coming.” He smiled. “As soon as Harry said he was moving back, I figured. It’s fine.” “I just-” “Alf, as long as you’re happy, that’s the main thing.” He interrupted, but I actually felt the main thing he wanted right then was to avoid the weird sympathy we were giving him. I imagined that didn’t make it any easier for him. “Look… I-I knew it was a risk when I asked you out and I wasn’t expecting it to work out, genuinely. It would have been a bloody miracle, to be honest. I just wanted to try, and we did, and it wasn’t meant to be. I’m not mad that you’ve found the person that’s gunna make you happy, Alf. I’ll find that too. It’s all good, I promise, you really don’t need to explain yourself to me or worry about me. As long as you’re both happy.” Harry lifted his head, scoped Lin out for a few seconds before he turned his head to me. “Are you seriously picking me over him?” He was somewhere between joking and being completely serious, forcing a laugh out of both me and Lin. “I feel like that’s a poor decision on your part. He’s a better man than I am.” They finally looked at each other, sharing a smile, this strange acknowledgement that I couldn’t quite understand, but it seemed like a positive thing. “I’m sorry.” Harry said to him. “Don’t be. It’s all good.” “And if I was ever off with you or anything-” “You were.” “Yeah, I know, shit.” Harry shook his head, smiled awkwardly. “I’m sorry. It’s just because… I just love her so much.” “Then don’t fucking leave again, alright?” Lin grinned, reaching his hand across the table. “You won’t find a better girl if you do.” “M'not going anywhere.” Harry reached back, the two of them shaking hands over the table. I imagined Lin wanted to forget the whole thing, frankly. I really hated the thought of him regretting asking me, but looking at how it had all unfolded, I couldn’t blame him for just wanting to forget that he’d ever proposed a date in the first place. As long as he was alright, that was all I could hope for, and he seemed to be. It seemed more than anything, he just wanted to move on. He and Harry got chatting, returning to normal, the atmosphere much nicer than I’d been anticipating, but I really shouldn’t have been surprised. They were both just incredible men, I was lucky to have them both in my life. Not too long later, the rest of them arrived. Louis and Libby hand in hand, with Niall close behind, shooting a wink to Sean behind the bar before they came over to the table. “Right, what does everyone want to drink?” Niall offered. “I’m going to the bar to flirt with Sean, so I might be a while getting the drinks back to you, but still. It’s the thought that counts.” “Mate, it’s barely the thought that counts when your thought is that you want to go to the bar to flirt with Sean. You don’t wanna get us drinks!” Lin laughed. “You make a fair point, Crosby. I barely wanna sit with you lot, to be honest. I just wanna sit at the bar and make eyes at him all night.” “Okay, before you do that then,” I yelped, wanting to keep him with us. “Can you sit down for a second? I’ve got some news.” Louis’ eyes lit up in a second. I hadn’t told him exactly what had been going on, but the last time I’d spoken to him about it properly I’d said I was going to go and talk to Harry, and since then I’d been very coy about the whole thing. He’d have been a damn fool not to figure it out, but he’d given me my space to let me announce it in my own time, and I could tell from the giddy look on his face that he knew that time had finally come. Libby didn’t look so excited. “What’s happened? Are you okay? Do I need to kill someone? Who hurt you?” “Lib, it’s fine, it’s nothing like that. Just… sit down a second, I’ll tell you.” They all pulled up a stool and sat themselves down, Harry tensing beside me. These were incredibly unfamiliar waters for him to be treading. Harry had lived his life in lonesome shadows he had created, hiding in the darkest corners he could as a way of protecting himself. He wasn’t used to being open about any section of his life, especially a part as intricate and evocative as love. Though it was clear the therapy he’d experienced since he’d left had helped him, there was a difference between him being open and honest with me, someone he’d been so close to and shared with before, compared to sharing such delicate truths with everyone else. This was new to him, it was bound to be scary. I reached for his hand beneath the table, squeezed it tightly. Eager little faces awaited the news I was about to break. “Okay… so… as you all know, Harry’s moving back.” “Woo!” Niall cheered. “Cheers, Niall.” Harry grinned and winked at him, laughing a little. “And uh…” I tried to continue. “I guess I’m kinda extra happy about it, because… Well, before he left, me and Harry-” “WERE YOU FUCKING?” Niall screamed, interrupting the entire pub as he did, cringing and then turning to address our fellow pub-goers. “Apologies! Excuse my French.” I had to drop my head onto the table, everyone else trying to hold in their laughter in an effort to show a little respect to the old blokes who were sat drinking and genuinely unhappy with Niall’s language. “For fuck sake, Niall!” Libby scalded. “Keep your voice down! If you wanna yell shit like that, we’ve gotta spend more time at The Royal Rose.” “I’m right though, aren’t I?” He pretty much ignored her, eyes darting between me and Harry. “Tell me I’m right?” “We were together.” Harry worded it much more eloquently. “SHUT THE FUCK UP, NO YOU WEREN’T!” Libby yelled. “Oh my god, Libby, shh!” I cried once I’d whipped my head back up. “Who needs to go down The Royal fucking Rose now, eh?” Niall huffed. “Sorry, everyone! Sorry!” Libby bellowed around the room before she turned back to us and whispered harshly. “Were you really?” “Yeah.” Harry smiled. “Were you in love?” “We were. We are.” “Alfie! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” “Sorry, we didn’t tell anyone.” I shrugged. “But that’s why we’ve kinda gathered you all, because… well, now Harry’s moving back… we’re getting back together. I mean… we’re already back together.” “Knew it.” Louis smirked. “What do you mean you knew it?” Libby turned to her fiancé and gave him death eyes. “Did you know about them being together last year?” “Sorta.” “Wow, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. The wedding’s off.” “What? I’m good at keeping secrets! If anything, that should make you want to marry me more! I’m very trustworthy.” The two of them started sweetly squabbling between themselves, Harry and I moving our attention across to Niall who still had questions. “So, wait… you two are serious about each other? It wasn’t just sex?” “Nah. It was never just sex.” Harry said, to my surprise. I didn’t know why he’d said that, but I wondered if he might have done it as a way for compensating for the things he’d said to me when I’d told him I loved him the first time and he’d told me he only saw us and our relationship as sexual, nothing more than that. But knowing what I knew then, being aware of how he actually felt about me, maybe he really hadn’t ever seen it as just sex. Maybe I hadn’t either. Maybe we’d always meant more to one another than we’d known. “That’s wild. Why’d do you leave? Did you break up?” “Uh… Sort of, I guess.” Harry choked. “But that’s not gunna happen again. This is it now. It’s me and her.” Niall was beyond excited, happily asking Harry every question he could think of, even the ones he must have known Harry would find awkward to answer, but he answered regardless. It was yet another way I could see Harry stepping up for me, doing things and removing himself from his comfort-zone because he knew it would make me happy. It was nice that I knew it would make him happy too, he merely needed to get used to the change. We both did. Being in an open relationship with Harry was going to be different, but I’d never been so excited about anything. Our future seemed, so, so bright.

“Harry!” Louis’ voice was loud, sending shockwaves through my body as I bolted upright, cursing, my heartbeat racing. I looked around, agitated and anxious, noticing we were in the reading room, noises coming from the distance proving I still had a good number of visitors. Thunder and lightning crashed outdoors, light splitting the dark skies whilst the thunder bellowed its dominance as I came back around, a little woozy and lost for a few moments but gradually, things came back to me. I could recall I’d gone in there to give myself a bit of space after me and my mum had tried to speak to Alfie, but I must have nodded off at some point. “You alright?” He was concerned. “Uh…” I was still half asleep, my hands resting firm on the chaise beneath me as I gathered myself, reintroduced myself to the literal world. “Yeah, sorry, m’fine. Sorry.” “Don’t apologise, mate. I can’t imagine how you feel.” I budged up and tucked my knees closer to my chest so he could sit himself down at the end of the chair. Louis had become for me what he was for Alfie. Since I’d moved back to Rosebury, we’d gotten much closer, and he possessed this aura that made him incredibly approachable. Sharing felt easy when it came to Louis. Alfie had always used him as the person she went to when she needed to talk about anything, and I felt a similar way. He could sense that I needed to talk. “Sorry our little ones aren’t here.” He started gently. “They’re getting harder to control now they’re older. They’d rather spend the day with their grandparents on the farm than with us.” “It’s alright. Kinda feel like… the less people the better.” “Mm, I bet.” It wasn’t long after their wedding that Libby told us she was pregnant with Ben, their eldest. A couple of years later, they’d welcomed Amelia to the world, two more kids who referred to me and Alfie and their auntie and uncle. They were good kids, but how could they not be with their parents? “You’re handling all of this really well, Harry.” Louis was kind, encouraging. “Better than most people would.” “The thing is, I’m lucky right now.” I rubbed over my eyes. “With Fee… this isn’t happening often. This is the second time this month, and that’s the most it’s been since she was diagnosed, y’know? She struggles with the little things, and small lapses, but this sort of thing is rare, and I’m so, so lucky that that’s the case two years after her being diagnosed. It could’a been so much worse.” “It could, you’re right.” “But when this does happen… I can literally feel myself falling apart. It fucking kills me. To know she looks at me and… she see’s nothing. It’s agonising. It’s a physical pain, I can’t describe it.” “She doesn’t see nothing, Harry.” He tried to comfort me. “She might be a little lost, but you’re there, deep down. She could never look at you and see nothing, I know how much you mean to her.” I hoped he was right. I knew I’d comforted Alfie with similar words when it came to her mother, and I’d meant it, but it was so much more difficult to see that as the truth when I was so directly involved, when it was me losing the love of my life. “It’s probably gunna get worse. How am I gunna cope when it gets worse?” I asked him rhetorically. “We’ll be here for ya, the whole time. Whatever you need from us, whenever you need it.” I knew he was telling the truth, and it was incredibly comforting. “And maybe your luck won’t run out. Maybe this is how it’s gunna be for her, maybe she won’t deteriorate more than this. Don’t write her off yet, you know how strong that girl is. She’s got a hell of a lot of fight in her.” I’d barely realised I was smiling over his words, nodding. He was so right. She had so much strength in her, I’d known that since the second we’d met. She’d never really been able to see it herself, but she had such a desirable sustainability, this power and fire in her gut that had seen her through some really difficult times. I loved every part of her, every inch of her body and every piece of her soul, but that strength was something really special, something that had always drawn me to her in ways I couldn’t fight. “You gave her some really incredible years, Harry.” “But I want to give her an incredible life.” I explained exhaustedly. Her Alzheimer’s had made it seem as though that was no longer an option, that any life I could provide or that we could build would be lost, either in the depths of her mind or quite literally, if she maybe had to go into care as her mother had. I’d struggled to understand Robert when I was younger, when I saw what he did for his wife, the way he upped and moved to be with her, altered his whole life to be at her side, but now it was happening to Alfie I completely understood it. It no longer seemed preposterous, it no longer seemed like something completely heroic that he’d done. It was the only option. If I had to, I’d do the same thing, I knew that without a shadow of a doubt. But I wanted to keep her at home for as long as I physically could. I wanted to give her a life full of love, a life worth fighting for. “You still can. You will.” Louis smiled. “Do not waste these years worrying about losing her completely when she’s still here. I know it’s easy for me to say that, and with how she is today… it’s fucking awful. She’s my oldest mate, it hurts me too. But right now, like you said, this is rare. So fucking cherish her whilst she’s here. Do whatever you can to keep her here. Think of ways to bring her back. If anyone can do it, you can. I have every fucking faith. Don’t start to let go when she’s still holding on.” He commanded. I nodded, absorbing his words in every way I could. There was something incredibly special about the love between me and Alfie. When I’d fallen in love with her all those years earlier, she’d made me realise that love could truly do some remarkable things. I had to hope that love could keep her with me for many years to come.

9 years earlier… I wrapped the towel tighter around my frame as I anxiously approached the red curtains, nervously hiding from Harry who sat in room ahead of me, canvas and colours all set up in preparation, sun setting between the trees, exactly how he’d wanted it to be, the light breaking into the room and projecting the most fascinating shadows. I peered through the small gap in the curtains, not moving any closer. “C’mon, Fee-Fee. I’ve seen you naked a million times.” He said without turning to look at me. “This is totally different!” I cried. “It’s not!” “It is! This is nude! Which I feel like is not the same as naked.” “It’s exactly the same.” He cackled. “It’s different! It’s a different sort of experience entirely. No one’s ever painted me nude before.” “Good, I should fucking hope not.” He laughed. “This is my privilege.” “I feel really nervous.” “How can I make it better?” “You can’t, it’s not you, Harry! You make me feel very comfortable in my own body, there’s nothing more you can do.” I explained truthfully, standing in silence for a few seconds before I spoke up once again. “What kinda painting is it gunna be? Is it gunna be abstract, or are you gunna be able to tell it’s me?” Harry had been painting everyone of recent, actually asking them to sit for him. He’d already painted me plenty of times since we’d gotten back together, but he’d branched out, painting Louis, Libby, Lincoln and Niall. He’d even done one of his brother, though that hadn’t been in person. He’d gone off memory alone, but I knew he was hoping to reach out to Jack at some point, try to help him and mend their relationship again. It was just a matter of plucking up the courage and tracking him down. He'd even painted Chloe a few weeks back. Her and Sam had recently split up, which meant for the first time in years, she’d attempted to spend time with us all, get herself back into the group, but things had changed. It almost felt as though it was too little too late. I had no bad feelings towards her, I’m not sure any of us did, the water had passed under the bridge years earlier, but it just hadn’t felt the same. It didn’t even feel genuine coming from her, like she’d only come back to us because she felt we were her only option. It was disappointing and it truly was a shame, but it just hadn’t worked. I think that was why Harry had wanted to paint her; not because of the friendship, but more the lack-thereof. But the thing with Harry’s recent work was that they had been varied in style. His older work was entirely abstract, pieces in which I’d barely been able to see myself even when he’d tried to point out exact features. His recent work wasn’t like that though, with some pictures being the most detailed portraits I’d ever seen, so lifelike it sometimes felt as though they could start talking. He kept them all in the gallery above the shop, a collection he continued to add to. “M’not sure yet.” He confessed. “Depends how I’m feeling once you’re in place. If you think it’s too detailed, I won’t put it anywhere. It’ll be your call when it’s done, alright?” With that confirmation, I finally felt comfortable enough to step into his most creative space, shuffling past him and heading over to the podium he’d set up, balancing my knee on it first so I could climb up and sit myself down as gracefully as possible, knees bent, legs to one side, body as upright and straight as I could make it, clutching at the top of the towel, holding it against my chest. I took a deep breath in, steadied myself, made one final request. “Will you make my nipples nicer?” “Your nipples are perfect as they are, idiot. I wanna paint you, not some idealised version of you. There’s nothing wrong with you right now, as you are. I promise.” Harry made sure his voice was warm, the sound alone making me feel at home, like I should be proud to just be myself. “Whenever you’re ready.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath in, tore the towel apart and then dropped it to the ground. The first thing I could concentrate on was the way he took a deep breath in, his chest swelling with the intake of air, like he needed to calm himself down as his eyes ran all over my body with care, slowly moving over every inch of me. I felt so exposed and yet it was overwhelmingly intimate too, like my body belonged to his eyes, like I would be invisible to anyone else. I was infatuated with the way he looked at me, because it was all there in his eyes, every emotion and every memory and every loving feeling he had towards me. After figuring out how to remain somewhat calm, he spoke. “Okay. Could you… have one knee up? Just lift your right leg, have your foot pointing right at me.” He instructed and I altered my stance accordingly. “And just link your fingers together and hold around your knee. That alright?” “Mm.” “Are you comfortable?” “Yeah.” “Good.” With that acknowledgement, he began, mixing a few colours and studying me in silence for a few moments before he put his brush against the canvas, proceeded to paint me. From what I could tell, from his point and with my position, my body would be both hidden and revealed. I imagined the shadows that were casting on me only added to the affect, and maybe that was why he’d chosen that time of day, when the sun was going down, when the world was glowing and yet infiltrated with tenebrosity. He had a vision, and I was the centre of it. Strangely, I’d predicted that I would be totally conscious of the time, that the clocks in my mind would strain and my body would ache and tire with speed, but that didn’t happen. Though we didn’t speak whilst he worked, the time flew. Occasionally, he would purposefully catch me eye, smirk at me, bite his lip, probably as a way of easing me, because when he did that, I’d notice my body relax even though I hadn’t realised I had tensed. Harry knew me so well. He knew my mind and my body and my soul in ways that were way beyond my understanding. He saw things in me that I couldn’t, loved parts of me that I hated, understood conundrums within me that I could never comprehend. I loved him so much. “You look amazing.” He said after almost three hours. “I-I dunno. Sometimes it feels like you’re the inspiration I’ve always needed. Proper little muse, aren’t ya?” I tried to keep hold of my position, stay quiet, not blush too much, but it was a complete honour to be his muse, the perfect stimulant for him to be able to create some truly beautiful pieces, none of which involved blood. Wine had been his calling for years, finding its way into most of his paintings, especially the ones of me. But he often got creative too, not always because it worked effectively as a substitute for paint, but as interesting addition. He used fruit juices, my perfume, put petals within his paints or blades of grass. He took his surroundings, pieces of Rosebury, and he made art. More time passed, Harry concentrating intently on each stroke as I slowly began to rearrange my limbs, but he didn’t notice until my legs were both dangling off the front of the podium, still facing him. “Alf-” He began, but I managed to stop him talking when I slowly opened my legs. That was how much confidence he could bestow upon me. I’d gone from being nervous to even walk in the room, to spreading my legs for him, letting him decide what he wanted to do with the woman ahead of him, whether that was painting her or otherwise. Harry looked almost dizzy, eyes transfixed on my core and plump lips parted. He stepped to his side so that the easel and canvas didn’t block an inch of me from him or vice-versa, so I mirrored him, dropped my eyes down to his crotch and saw how much he appreciated the sight. He was rock hard. I bit at my bottom lip, hoping to lure him closer to me, hoping I’d inspired him beyond the canvas. “You’re something else.” He was breathless, a look of amazement clouding his eyes. And yet he remained still, purposefully building the heat. I didn’t realise us saying nothing and not even touching could do that, but I was sure I’d never wanted him more. I had never felt such intensity between us. My whole body quivered the moment he finally snapped, storming towards me. His hands went to his belt as soon as he started walking, the jingling of the metal he was fiddling with sending shockwaves through my body. He was still working on it when he reached me, taking one hand and pulling harshly on my hair to make my neck snap back, forcing me to look up to him. His other hand continued to loosen the leather from the slack trousers he was wearing, the two of us panting even though we’d barely done anything, looking into each other’s eyes. I could feel his hand moving, hear the pleasing titter of the buckle rattling. That alone got me worked up, those two senses sparking a million sensations. Then before I knew it he’d pushed into me, so much force behind his hips that I almost fell backward before he pulled me back to him, shot his head down so that he could bite my bottom lip. His touch was strict, severe, strong. Even with my lip still gripped between his teeth, he managed to smirk, aware of how much power he had in those moments, but it was my power that had brought him to me. He let my lip loose, his hand moving from my hair to my jaw as he began to kiss me, surprisingly gentle, his hips beginning to wind, gradually moving in and out of me. I loved how he could feel so tough and unforgiving whilst also moving with such a gentle ease. I didn’t understand how he could be both and yet he was, and he was with ease. He was the light and the dark. The night and the day. The sun and the thunderstorm. The fighter and the artist. My fingers clung frenziedly to his t-shirt, possibly puncturing holes through the thin material, closing my eyes and breathing him in, barely able to kiss him with how ethereal I felt just being with him. “You feel so good. Fuck, you’re amazing.” He wheezed. I wrapped my legs around his, my heels digging into his backside, pushing my chest up and putting my arms behind me so I could keep myself propped up, Harry slowly taking his kiss away from my mouth trailing it down my chin and then over my chest, causing pretty palpitations that skipped through my body, his hands lowering to my backside and yanking me closer to him. Ever since the day I had seen his paintings for the first time in person, there had been this magnetism between me and his captivating work. Being around his pieces, touching them, breathing them in; it was fascinating and overwhelming and it always brought out such powerful emotions from me. So when I actually became a part of his art, that intensified, took all those feelings to an entirely different realm. That was one of the reasons I felt we had gotten carried away in such a physical sense. We connected when he painted. He took hold of my legs, curving his fingers behind my knees and gripping tight as he picked up the pace, head lifting so he could gaze down between our bodies, watch the way he worked in and out of me as I watched him, the way he bit his lip, even scrunched his nose, concentrating all his strength on me. I moved one hand so I could touch myself, stealing his focus. He watched my fingers move over my clit, the sight bringing new groans from him, and I could tell I was leading him to his finish. I knew all the signs, his giveaways. Nothing turned me on more than seeing him unwind that way. My moans were getting louder and louder, my eyes closing just a few seconds after I noticed a grin spreading across his lips, smug over my pitch, like he always was. “Oh fuck.” He seethed piercingly as he came, and I was able to feel the way his whole body trembled, the ripples riding against my heels and the parts of my legs that came into contact with him, moving my hand until he gasped. “Please finish. I wanna you feel. I wanna watch you.” So I moved my hand back, touching myself for those final few moments before it happened, Harry watching me in awe the whole time. As soon as we were both calm enough, Harry took my neck in his hand once again so he could bring me closer to him, kiss me with enough passion to knock me out completely. I slung my arms around his neck, feeling his smile grow against my lips. “I love you.” He gasped as we kissed. “I love you so fucking much.” “I love you too.” “You’re fucking bliss, I’m so obsessed with you.” He was rambling, spewing his thoughts, and it only made me smile more, my cheeks genuinely hurting even though I was still trying to kiss him back, butterflies in my stomach and rose tinted glasses perching on my nose and altering my vision. When our kiss ended, he stayed close, rubbing his nose against mine, closing his eyes and breathing steadily as I just watched him, just as obsessed with him. I stroked the backs of my fingers over his cheek, transfixed. “You make me so, so happy,” I whispered to him. “I feel like my heart is gunna burst.” “Nah, fuck that.” He sneered. “I need you. No heart bursting, please.” “I’ll try.” I giggled. “I make no promises though.” “I’d be lost without you. I’d hate it. Stay with me, okay?” “Okay.” He kissed me again, lightly gliding his tongue into my mouth, so tender with me I thought I might cry. I never wanted him to feel lost. I would always stay with him.

Everyone had stayed with me for a good few hours, keeping me company on Alfie’s birthday seeing as she couldn’t quite do that herself. Lin and his wife Jessica had shown up eventually too, all of them being upbeat in their attempts to lift my mood, and temporarily, it had worked to the extent it could. But then as soon as I had closed the door on them, all my sorrow had come flooding back. My only aim then was to make sure that Alfie was happy. That was why I’d thought up a plan. “Just follow me, okay?” I encouraged her, finally having gotten her downstairs, though I could tell she was still confused and wary of me. “Where’re we going?” She asked, tracking my steps as the two of us tiptoed through the living room. I was walking backwards so I could keep my eyes on her, conscious that she might cower or run at any second. She glued her eyes to me, as though she was slowly teaching herself to trust me, a flicker of recognition darting through her eyes. I smiled. “Alfie, I just wanna show you something. It’s something you’ll like.” “Uh-” “You can trust me, I promise.” “Ca-can I hold your hand?” At first, I couldn’t even find it within me to reply to her, in a state of shock that she’d even asked that of me. But what it told me was rousing. It told me that I wasn’t entirely a stranger to her. It reminded me that even when she couldn’t quite place me, there was a sense of trust between us that remained. Even though it wasn’t immediate or obvious, it was still there. “Uh- Fuck, yeah, of course you can.” I held my hand out for her to shyly slot her fingers between mine, almost bashful when she did, like it was the first time we’d held hands, like we were giddy teenagers who were dating one another. And I wondered then if that was how I should start viewing it, when her Alzheimer’s attacked her that way. Maybe it would help if I started thinking of it as though I had to win her back and win her over, as though she was someone I needed to charm and woo, a girl I really fucking wanted but needed to earn. Slowly, I lead her through the kitchen and then into the conservatory at the back of the house. I took her to my paintings. Her pupils blew up in seconds, a new galaxy appearing in her eyes, looking around the room in wonder, gazing at all the art in there, the abundance of canvases that still sat in that room. There were paintings of her, paintings we’d done together, paintings of her friends and loved ones, paintings that had been in there the very first time she had been in there. It had the potential to be a really good space for her. She let go of my hand, unhurriedly exploring her surroundings. “Did you do these?” She enquired. “Mm.” “You’re talented.” “Thank you.” I nodded. Her fingers played over a painting I’d done of her, but she was clueless, unaware she was the inspiration behind almost everything she could see. Under the guise that she was a guest, she worked her way around the room like blood running through veins, oblivious to the fact that she was actually the beating heart. I didn’t want to tell her that she was a part of so many of the paintings she was looking at, because I didn’t want to obscure her reality and upset her. Sometimes it was just better to go along with however she was feeling, whatever she felt was real. She spent her time leisurely wandering and inspecting the work that grabbed her the most as I headed towards the prime piece, the painting I had wanted her to see most. Earlier, I’d propped it up against the back window, central, ready for her to inspect. I pulled the cloth that had been covering it away, hurling that tattered throw to the ground beside me. She was so engrossed she didn’t even notice. “Alfie?” I caught her attention, watching her spin on her spot. Her face dropped. I’d captured her attention entirely. It was the Blood Sun. Before my mum had left, I’d asked her to keep an eye on Alfie whilst I rushed to the gallery and grabbed the painting to bring back. Me and Louis had covered it to protect it from the rain before throwing it into the back of his car and getting it to mine and Alfie’s house as soon as we could, hoping for the best. That painting was hers. It belonged to her, and as its owner, I knew the emotional reaction she had to it and how that never tired. Every time I’d seen her around that painting, it had affected her in such severe ways, like it spoke to her, as though it could touch her both physically and mentally. My gut was telling me that connection would still be there. I watched her intently as she took steps towards the Sun, seeing the familiar look of awe that she always had when she was close to that painting, blinded and dazzled and struck with wonder. “It’s beautiful.” She whispered as she stopped ahead of it. “You… You should feel it.” I suggested. “What? Touch it? I can’t do that.” “Course you can.” I grinned. “It’s mine, and I say you can.” She stared at me like I’d gone mad, but I just nodded, willing her to do as I’d asked. She had this beautiful, dastardly look in her eye as she reached her hand outwards, the tips of her fingers only grazing the red for a moment before her hand retracted, like it had stung her. It was rather fascinating to watch her. Within seconds, she was touching it again, and I could see that her mind was whirring. I couldn’t even begin to guess what might be going on in her head, how she might be feeling, what she might be thinking. It might have been an entirely new experience for her, or it might have been shining a light to parts of her mind that had spent that day in darkness. I moved so I was standing right behind her, my body only an inch from hers, admiring the way she let her fingerprint distinguish the paint like brail. I reached out, lay my hand on top of hers, gently guiding her touch. She inhaled heavily, my touch affecting her, my stomach twisting. “Tell me how you feel.” I was quiet, hanging my head just over her shoulder, able to see the profile of her face. “I… I feel sad.” She explained. “There’s so much sadness here.” When she said that, I found my eyes looking at the hand that I had resting on top of hers, seeing the scars that were still so prominent, even after all those years. Looking back, I couldn’t even imagine feeling that way, being able to cut myself like I had. Seeing those scars reminded me of how lucky I was to have wound up with such a wonderful life, so full of happiness that harming myself that way was almost incomprehensible. Seeing those scars was a reminder of my current wellbeing. Alfie had helped me build that life, she had been the one that pointed out just how harmful my old technique had been, and that was why she’d always been able to sense the pain that would forever remain trapped in that painting. “But…” “But what?” I tried to spur her to say more. “There’s something else, I don’t know.” “Tell me. Just tell me how you feel.” “It’s like… home, and warmth. I… I don’t know.” “Like us.” I hushed. She closed her eyes, and I noticed a tear pool over, stream down her cheek. Something was happening. I was rapidly short of breath, keeping my eyes on her. “Fee? Please talk to me.” “I remember the first time I saw this in real life. I remember.” She trembled. “I remember the feeling. I remember crying.” “What else?” I begged, tears beginning to build in my eyes. I could hear my heart beating, observing her memory reform and construct in her mind, filling her drop by drop when all I wanted was for everything to flood into her consciousness again. I adjusted our hands so that I could squeeze hers, resting my forehead against her temple, whispering, pleading with her to search a little deeper. She took a shaky breath inward, overwhelmed. “Harry.” She whispered, and I thought I might collapse to the floor, simply hearing her speak my name. “Yes! Look at me.” I cupped her cheek, not pushing but trying to encourage her to turn her head. “Fee-Fee, please look at me.” She turned to her right, eyes sparking as soon as she looked into mine. She knew me. “Harry?” She questioned. “Holy fuck, Harry!” She scrambled so that she could wrap her arms around my neck, throw her body against mine and take me into her. I’d never held her so tight. Though there had been a few similar occurrences since her diagnosis, none had gone on for that long. I’d spent the entire day wondering if that was it, if she had reached her breaking point and her memory just wouldn’t come back. It was terrifying and excruciating. But she was with me. She was home. My body was frail, using all my might to hold her, but it was as though that meant strength was retracted from elsewhere, my legs giving way beneath me. I crumbled down to the floor, taking her with me, first landing on my knees and then falling back, Alfie straddling my legs, the two of us still gripping onto one another. I pulled my head back so I could look in her eyes, grabbing her cheeks. “Are you okay? Do you feel okay?” “Wh-what’s happened?” “I lost you. I lost you, I’ve missed you so fucking much. It’s been so hard without you. I hate it.” I sobbed, brushing some hair from her face. “How do you feel?” “I’m okay. I’m sorry.” She wept. “Don’t be sorry. You don’t have to be sorry, Fee-Fee. M’just so glad you’re back.” We kissed, another way of coaxing her back to me. I knew from previous experience just how disorienting it was for her, coming back around like that, I couldn’t even imagine how it felt. All I could do was talk her through it, be there for her, kiss her, remind her of her life in the kindest way I could. I kept the kiss brief then pulled away, eyes darting across her face and keeping her close. “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked. “I’m fine!” She cried, clinging onto me. “Please don’t be upset, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Another horrific addition to her illness was the guilt she felt when she came back around. All she would focus on was my feelings, how it would have hurt me, as if it wasn’t fucking bad enough with everything else it did to her. She was strangely selfless about the whole thing. “Fee, you’ve gotta stop apologising to me, please. You’re here, that’s all that matters.” “I love you.” She wept. “I love you too. I love you so much.” I’d only recently realised the importance of being there for her when she found herself again. Every time, I was elated that she was back, and she was all I could focus on, but I had to be caring and present and not just break over how difficult I’d found it. I kissed her tenderly, breathlessly continuing to tell her I loved her at every opportunity, the words losing themselves upon her lips and swelling within in her mouth before hopefully finding their way to her heart. She was all that mattered. Doing everything I could so that she could find herself and fight that disease was all that mattered. I saw it as my responsibility to give to her and help her to sustain the best life I possibly could, and I wasn’t going to give up on that or give up on her. That disease was venturing to steal our happiness, and though it could gain temporary success, I refused to let it consume us entirely, to rob us of the sublime life we had created. Our love had more fight in it than any disease ever could. “I missed you.” I shuddered when our kiss soothed. “When I touched the Sun… It’s like I saw your face.” She enlightened me. “I saw your face and heard your voice and you were telling me you loved me and then everything started coming back to me. Everything.” Though I had been there physically, it was her mentality that had needed to alter, to shift and shake and align once more. When she had touched the Blood Sun, I had re-entered her mind and memories, my voice calling upon her soul and willing it back to the present. I could never underestimate the power of us. I could never underestimate the power of her mind and just how engrained I was within it. “You were there. You brought me back.” She whispered, laying a loving and gentle kiss upon my lips. “You brought yourself back.” I told her. “You’re so fucking strong, Fee-Fee. Keep fighting it.” “I will, I promise. As long as you’re here-” “M’always gunna be here, Fee. You know that.” She dropped her head. “Hey!” I placed my thumb beneath her chin, lifted her head back up so that she was forced to look into my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens, I’m yours. I’m here. We fight this together, okay?” “Promise?” Her bottom lip quivered. “I promise. It’ll always be us. Just me and you.” “Just me and you.” She repeated back to me. She needn’t fear that I might leave, that I may tire of the tumultuous routine of our lives, that her illness wouldn’t merely steal her memories but it would eventually take me from her too. She didn’t need to worry for even a second. I wanted to be her support system. I wanted to be her life, her lover, her confidant, her centre. No matter how difficult things got, even if one day she disappeared indefinitely. I would never love another person the way I loved her, no person would ever compare to her, no life would ever come close to the one we had. I was with her, skipping through fields during the days of sun or sailing with her through the eye of the storm. It was just me and her through everything, always. That was my promise.