#him letting out his relationship problems with her but it's

[moonchildstyles]

complicated

y/n meets someone, only to find out that he's going to be her stepbrother

wordcount: 17.3k+

—————

(Y/N)'s mouth pinched as she looked at the aisles of wine before her. Knowing her Uncle Mick, he wasn't even going to have a sip, not when he had whisky in the cabinet instead. But, it felt wrong meeting his new girlfriend—fianceé, actually, as of last weekend—empty handed. She wanted to make a good first impression, especially since she hadn't made any serious efforts to come by and meet her until her uncle dropped the proposal on her. 

Truthfully, it was because of her uncle; he was a hopeless romantic who had told (Y/N) on more than one occasion that he had fallen in love with someone he'd just met in the years since his wife had passed. It was hard justifying taking time off from work and booking plane tickets for a short-lived relationship.

But, that obviously wasn't the case this time. He'd been raving about this woman—Anne—for the last six months. Enough so that he purchased a ring and wanted to marry her as soon as they could thread something together. And her Uncle Mick wanted her to be a part of the whole process—she was the daughter he never had, he'd said. 

So, even if he wasn't going to take a single sip of whatever rosé she picked out, she was going to do it anyway. She needed to get to know this woman and let her know that she was going to be welcomed with open arms into this small, but loving family. 

Perusing down the aisle, (Y/N)'s eye caught a bottle with a golden foiling around the cork. The label was especially pretty, printed in French with a year on it that would take at least a couple of minutes for (Y/N) to do the math on. It was pretty, and undoubtedly more worth more money than she planned on spending tonight. But, that was the point, she thought. 

She'd make more money, but her uncle wasn't going to get married again. (She hoped, anyway).

The only problem? It was on the very top shelf and nowhere near the edge. She wasn't going to be able to reach it unless she called for help from one of the employees wandering around here. They didn't particularly seem to be in the mood, though. She didn't blame them, what with this being how they spent their Friday evening, watching every patron come in looking for some liquor to kick the night off. 

Looking around, she wondered if there was anything around here, one of those pokers that many retail spaces used to get high up t-shirts off the top racks. She knew the idea was stupid before she even finished the thought, but she couldn't completely ignore the hope that fizzled in her chest. 

Okay, maybe if she stood on the tips of her toes and reached really hard, then jumped she could reach it. Yeah, she could try that. Hopefully, she would only be able to reach the bottle she wanted and not knock over the plenty of other ones lining the shelves. 

With her hand blindly reaching the top of the shelf, fingertips grazing the empty surface, (Y/N) readied herself to jump as high and controlled as she could. 

"Do y'need help?"

The stranger's voice knocked her out of her plan. At the end of the aisle was a man with curling brown hair looking at her with a pinch between his brows. He had a white button up covering his torso, a light blue cardigan slouching over his form. He didn't wait for his answer before he started towards her.

"Um," she started, dropping to stand flat on her feet, "Yeah, actually. Thanks." 

"Of course," he smiled, relief unstitching his brows. "'M happy I caught y'before y'jumped. I don't think that would have worked out like y'hoped." 

"Me neither," she laughed, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, "But thank you. I was trying to reach the gold one on top." 

His smile was kind as he effortlessly reached for the bottle. (Y/N) couldn't help the way her eyes dropped over him, appraising every inch. Rings glittered on his hands, some with gaudy gems, others nothing more than brassy bands. The cardigan she had seen across the aisle was actually a knitted depiction of a cloudy sky, fluffs of clouds stitched into the material. His trousers were a warm brown, matching the belt cinched around his waist and shin of his shoes. As he reached, his hand had a cross inked between his thumb and forefinger. 

He was really cute. Really, really cute. In a real way, she considered if he was a model. Why a model like him, with a perfect nose and shattered green eyes, would be in the wine aisle of the liquor store of her home, she had no idea, but she was grateful for whatever circumstances put him here. 

Blinking away from him in hopes of concealing just how intently she had been staring at him, (Y/N) graciously took the offered bottle in his outstretched hand. 

"Thanks," she smiled, "Thinking now, I don't think my plan would have worked." 

The man in front of her settled in, hands in pockets as he gazed down at her. "Yeah? Rethinking the jump?" 

"Oh yeah," she laughed, "I think my bag alone would have knocked down an entire shelf." 

A short, breathy laugh fell from his lips. "Definitely. Would've ruined your night before 's even started." He gave a pointed look to the bottle in her hand. 

"Oh no, I'm just going to my uncle's house for dinner. He probably wouldn't have even noticed if I was soaked in wine with glass stuck in my jacket as long as he had food in front of him." 

The man hummed, giving a slow drag of his eyes over her form. "I don't know. You're hard to ignore." 

Her skin was decidedly warmer under his gaze. She couldn't bite back the grin that sparked over her features. 

"In a good way?" she chirped, blinking up at him as if he were the sun and she a flower. 

He had dimples. Her breath clung to her throat. 

"Only the best," he flirted, shifting on his feet as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He hesitated before reaching for the device. A beat passed as she let him read the notification, his lips thinning before glancing up at her. "I have to get going, but... I hope this isn't weird to ask, but could I have your number? Or whatever y'would want to share?" 

The man had come off so confident, approaching her without prompting. Lazily dragging his eyes over her with his hand shrugged in his pockets, entirely sure of what he could offer her should she take him up on it. But, now, asking for any way to contact her, he had struggled to find his words. She watched as he attempted to form the best way to ask for her number, a thin smile on his lips. 

She only nodded her head. "I can give you my number." 

The man before her brightened, dimples and bunny teeth on display. "Cool," he muttered, offering his phone up the same way he had offered the wine. 

Typing in her information, she glanced at him through her lashes. "My name's (Y/N), by the way." 

"Oh, yeah," he rushed out, breathing out a huff of laughter, "That's right—names. 'M Harry." 

"Nice to meet you, Harry," she smiled, passing his phone back, "Thanks, again." 

"Yeah, yeah," he grinned, looking down at the new contact on his phone. "Of course. I'll—um—I'll text you soon. Have a nice night at your uncle's." 

"Have a nice night," (Y/N) said, biting back her own grin.

Harry hesitated in his spot for a moment, looking at her with pretty green eyes and fluttering lashes before forcing himself to take off.

He only glanced back at her twice. 

—————

Sitting in her rental car, the drive to Uncle Mick's house mapped on her phone, (Y/N) took a moment in the silence. 

What kind of romantic comedy had she just found herself in? Giving out her number to random, pretty boys she met in the liquor store of all places. If she found out this had been a bad choice later, she would blame the cloud cardigan and the shades of green in his eyes. Anyone would melt when faced with those. 

Pushing the car into drive, (Y/N) allowed herself to wonder for a moment just how long she would have to wait for him to message her. She hoped she wouldn't have to wait very long at all before she had a chance to see him again. 

—————

(Y/N) felt out of breath as she approached the front door of her Uncle Mick's house, as if she had ran here instead of driven. 

The traffic on the way here had been humbling to say the least. And to think she called his place her hometown when she had turned into the wrong subdivision twice and was shocked every time another stoplight blocked what she remembered to be a straight path home. She could do another other than watch her arrival time drift further and further than the eight o'clock they had agreed upon. 

Clutching the neck of the wine bottle, (Y/N) figured thirty minutes late was better than not showing up at all. Despite having texted her uncle when she pulled up, she still pressed the doorbell. On the other side, she heard the clattering of overgrown feet with barking following shortly after. Flipper was awake, then. 

She was stuck outside for only a minute before the knob clicked and turned. Uncle Mick pulled the door open, smiling lips and crinkled eyes the first things she saw. 

"Hi, honey," he greeted, pulling her into a hug while Flipper went crazy behind him, "You made it." 

"Hi, Uncle Mick," she smiled, feeling suddenly emotional now that she was hugging him. It had been way too long since she saw him—the man that had raised her from the age of eleven. She hugged him especially tight at the thought. "I've missed you." 

"I've missed you, too. But you're here now, and we've got dinner warming in the oven for you." His kind smile only widened when he saw her gift in hand. "And you brought wine! Did I tell you this one was my favorite?" 

(Y/N) blinked. "Since when did you have a favorite wine?" she asked, passing off the wine as she locked the door behind herself. 

Her uncle shrugged, tipping his chin up in faux-superiority. "Can't a man change, (Y/N)? Or must I always drink acetone?" 

She let out a bubbling laugh as she followed after him, petting Flipper on his shaggy head. Trailing through the living room, she could see the lighting in the dining room, the chandelier that had gone unused for most of her childhood now lit at full power. A scented candle now dotted the coffee table, along with fluffy throw pillows and a knitted blanket on the sofa. 

The entire house seemed... softened. Eased into another phase of life that included delicate edges and soft-scented air. This woman must really be something to get Uncle Mick to take down his fish of the month calendar. 

Approaching the threshold, (Y/N) braced herself to follow after her uncle. She was going to have to start the night with an apology. 

Mick started the introduction, stepping aside when he said her name as if presenting her to a ballroom instead of his fianceé. 

"Sorry, I'm late. I—" 

Her words became stuck in her throat. 

Sitting in one of the four chairs at the small table was Harry. Cloud cardigan and all. 

What the fuck was he doing here?

"You alright, kiddo?" 

Blinking back to earth, (Y/N) nodded her head. "Yeah sorry," she muttered, forcing out a laugh, "I forgot what I was saying, as I was saying it." 

A round of laughter filled the room. Including Harry's. 

Making a point to avoid the end of the table that his chair sat, (Y/N) pointed her smile at the pretty, dark haired woman sitting right next to where her uncle had set himself up. 

"Sorry," she started, again, walking around the table to meet the woman halfway. "I wish I could have come around to meet you sooner. You must be Anne." 

(Y/N) had her hand outstretched to shake, only to be pulled into a warm hug. The embrace was soft and comforting, just like the effect she seemed to have on her uncle. 

"Don't worry," the woman, Anne, smiled, "Mick has told me all about your job, so I understand. Thank you for taking the time to come down and see us. It's wonderful to finally meet you." 

She had kind eyes, hazel with shatters of a familiar green. Just the reminder had a flush plucking at her cheeks, knowing who was sitting just behind her. 

"It's really nice to meet you too, Anne," (Y/N) smiled, hoping the natural turn of the conversation wasn't the one that this would take. 

Her hopes were shot down when Anne gestured behind her, her grin only widening. 

"(Y/N), this is my son, Harry. He's down visiting from work too." 

Harry. Harry was her uncle's—who was really like her father for all intents and purposes—fianceé's son. The man that would be as close to a bother as she could get as soon as this wedding happened, was the same one she had thought about going on a date with all during the drive here. 

He seemed to have the same shock running through his system as she stood from his chair. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "Nice to meet you, (Y/N)."

Boundaries were maintained as they shook hands. Even if she was, unfortunately, taken aback by how large his palm was compared to hers. Warm and encompassing around her fingers. 

Matching his gaze, she could see the matching panic she was sure was also written on her face. They both felt that flirty energy in the wine aisle. They had only been cut off because they had somewhere to be—which happened to be the same place. 

Her name was in his phone with a pink heart emoji. 

And now they were just a wedding short of being step-siblings. 

"Nice to meet you, Harry." 

Forcing herself to pull her hand back, (Y/N) made the self-serving choice of looking towards her uncle. Whatever had conspired between her and Harry had gone unnoticed if the beaming grin on Mick's face was anything to go by. 

"I can help with dinner," (Y/N) offered, hoping for a reprieve in the form of the quiet kitchen, "You said it was in the oven, right?" 

"Oh yes, dinner," Uncle Mick laughed, "The lasagna is in the oven. Thank you, (Y/N)." 

That was all the permission she needed before scurrying off to the kitchen. She moved on robotic limbs to the appliance, but stopped short of pulling open the door.

Instead, she leaned over the stove, hands braced on the ledge. 

What kind of tragic comedy had she found herself in?

—————

"Goodnight, kiddo. Thanks for coming tonight." 

(Y/N) hugged her uncle that much tighter. She could hear the sincerity in his voice; this was about more than a dinner she had managed to make it down for. 

"Goodnight, Uncle Mick." 

Their embrace lasted a beat longer before she unraveled herself from his hold. Over his shoulder, she could see Harry having a moment with his mother. Seeing them side by side like that, the resemblance was so clear. Even down to the set of their teeth and the cheekbones. 

Especially when they smiled at each other like that. 

"Still on for breakfast in the morning?" Mick asked, fatherly affection painting his features. 

"If you can pick me up, yes," she conditioned, batting her lashes and beaming up at him. 

"As long as you're up and ready to go, I can make that happen." 

She pulled him into another hug to show her thanks. "I'll see you in the morning. Love you." 

"Love you too, kiddo. Get to bed so you don't keep me waiting." 

Heading towards the door, (Y/N) threw a glance over her shoulder, intending to wave to her uncle one more time, only to catch Harry following in her footsteps. Her lips thinned. She knew he was on his way out too, but she had hoped she was moving faster than him. Now It would be weird to rush out ahead of him and let the door slam in his face. Especially if this was now her soon-to-be stepbrother. 

Harry's pleading eyes met hers. Begging her to wait just a second for him. She supposed, even if she wanted to avoid it, they needed to talk about this at some point. 

Now, they both were waving goodbye to their respective parents. Final declarations of how nice it was to meet one another were shared, following them out onto the chilly stoop. Silence fell over them as the door sealed behind them. 

Just the two of them now. (Y/N) and her almost-stepbrother. (Y/N) and the guy she had just short of fantasized going on a date with only hours earlier. 

His steps slowed to match hers. 

"So," he started. 

She didn't offer any words. Was now when they acknowledged the obvious flirting they shared in the liquor store? Or were they going to save that for the wedding? 

"Kind of fucked up, huh?" 

At that, (Y/N) couldn't help but to laugh. The sound was surprisingly loud, breaking into the quiet neighborhood. 

"That's exactly what I was thinking," she murmured, coming to a stop next to her car. Daring to look up at him, she caught him already looking down at her. His eyes were just as pretty now as when she saw him for the first time that night. Before she knew her adoptive dad was marrying his mom. "Did you... You didn't know before, right?" 

A pinch appeared between his brows. "No. Had no idea. The last time I was down here was two years ago, when I helped my mum move."

"That's crazy. The last time I was here was two years ago, too." 

A rueful smile touching his lips. They were both having the same thought. 

If only...

"They seem really happy together, though," (Y/N) posited, knowing they were going to have to accept the terms of their newfound relationship. 

"Really happy," Harry agreed, glancing back at her childhood home, "'S been a long time since I've seen my mum that happy." 

"Same for my uncle." (Y/N) nodded her head, her smile thin when Harry turned back towards her. Whatever she had started knitting for him this evening, now needed to be severed. "It was really nice to meet you, Harry. Thanks for everything tonight." 

Faint dimpled dented his cheeks. "It was nice to meet you, (Y/N). Get back to your hotel safe." 

"You, too," she reciprocated, pulling open her car door. Harry took a step back, his hands in his pockets as his eyes followed her. "Oh," she gasped, "You should probably change my name in your phone, by the way. I think the emoji might throw some people off." 

At that, she was granted Harry's bursting laughter as she climbed into her car. She probably felt a little bit too much pride over that. 

Pulling out of her uncle's driveway and out into the street, she couldn't help but peek into her rearview. Though a part of her wanted to think Harry had his eyes following her, the other part of her was quick to send a reminder that that wasn't something she should want. Not anymore. 

While there wasn't anything serious that had conjured between them, the potential having been torn from their hands was enough to feel a little bit of loss. They hadn't even had time to mess it all up themselves. 

Now they'd never know. 

 —————

Tucked away in her cubicle, (Y/N) smiled at her phone. 

The group chat labeled Wedding Party complete with every floral emoji the keyboard had to offer was going crazy. But, she still went to the single message from Harry first. 

     I love my sister so much but I think I'm going to have to block her if she sends one more Pinterest board to my mum. This whole thing was supposed to be small and now we're looking at a gelato bar for the reception.

     There wasn't even supposed to be a reception.

She covered her mouth as if that would make the grin growing over it obsolete. She knew well what he was going through. For the first two months of this engagement, all talks of the wedding had been flippant, that the ceremony would happen when it happened. In a matter of weeks, everything had changed. There was now a joint bachelor and bachelorette party to plan. 

Harry had been her lifeline through this roller coaster. They didn't talk about the night in the wine aisle, never breaching the previous terms of their acquaintance. Instead, they had grown to be friends. Good friends. The kind of friends that had separate conversations outside of group chats. The kind that would send anything that reminded them of one another. They had inside jokes now. 

They were friends. Soon to be step siblings. 

(Though, even if it wasn't something she acknowledged, (Y/N) knew good and well there was a phantom following her any time she interacted with Harry. That phantom never let her forget that she was still attracted to him. Even if no action could be taken, she wasn't going to be able to forget him as the man in the cloud cardigan with the pretty eyes and freckled nose).

     I'm supposed to be figuring out a bachelor party and I think I would rather die than think about what my Uncle Mick would want to do on his last night as a "single man"

     I might just change my number actually and hope no one notices 

     Hahahahahaha

     And now we both get to be there for that last "single" night. Thrilling stuff! 

     You'd still let me have your number though, right?

She didn't want to admit how her cheeks warmed reading his texts. Maybe because it was something she wanted to see—though she'd never admit to as much out loud—, but she swore there was still that flirty undertone to the way he spoke to her. Like he wasn't quite over things like they were supposed to be. 

     Of course

     I'm scared you'll go crazy without it and I still need you for the actual wedding 

It was a small indulgence, telling him she needed him. While she wouldn't act like there was something astronomical that had been built between them, it was hard to ignore the fact that the more she spoke with him, it didn't exactly tamp down her feelings for him. 

     I know you do.

(Y/N) blinked at her phone screen. She could hear the words in his voice, that drawling accented voice. The way his eyes would have connected with hers had they been speaking in person. How there would have been a quirk in his lips, a reminder that this was very much a silly, lighthearted joke even if a part of her short-circuited. 

Ignoring everything else, (Y/N) typed out a lame, noncommittal response ("You wish lol") before locking her phone and placing it face down on her desk. The email in her inbox suddenly sounded a lot more appealing than they had only a few minutes prior. Even making the copies she had been putting off for the whole morning had suddenly been pushed up the to-do list. 

Anything to keep herself busy—too busy to think about Harry. 

She would be seeing him again soon because of the bachelor/rette parties that were coming up within the next month, and she needed to have her head on straight. It was embarrassing to be so distracted, caught up in someone she'd only met in person once. A total of maybe six hours had been spent together that entire weekend she had visited home, counting both the initial dinner and the brunch before the both of them were to jet back to their respective homes. Each of those hours had even been buffered by the attendance of their parents. 

And yet, here she was. 

Forcing herself out of her seat, (Y/N) made her way to the copy room. Everything was going to be okay, she reminded herself, fiddling with the blunt edge of her master copies in her hands. She was going to see Harry, be so clearly and readily reminded that she was going to be his stepsister for all intents and purposes, and every affection she held for him was going to dry up. All she needed was to meet him once more, and wipe away the liquor store meeting from her head. 

Everything was going to be fine. Perfectly fine. 

As long as she somehow figured out how to mash the idea of a fancy dinner for Anne's bachelorette party with a fishing trip for Uncle Mick's bachelor counterpart. 

—————

(Y/N) scrolled to yet another page of search results. 

If she saw any more party bus and strip club ideas for a joint bachelor/bachelorette party, she was going to scream. There was no way she was going to down shots and dance on a pole around her uncle and her soon to be stepfamily. 

There wasn't a single chance that she was the first to ever plan something like this for an older couple. Someone—one of the billions in the world—would have undoubtedly come up with an idea far before her. And yet, she was on the third page of google results, and she knew if she drifted to the fourth, she was done for. 

There had to be at least something nearby that could check the boxes for both sides of the honored couple. 

She was this close to booking reservations at a restaurant that had a claw machine for diners to pick out their "lobster" (looking at photos, it appeared to just be a handful of plastic lobster figurines based off of a cartoon). If Gemma hadn't already taken on so much with her mother, including planning out many elements of the wedding itself, (Y/N) would have just short of begged her to come up with something. But, that wasn't fair. She wanted to be a good soon-to-be sister and take something off of Gemma's plate, especially since she had apparently recently welcomed her first baby. 

Shuttering her eyes, (Y/N) rubbed her temples. She needed to focus and make a decision. The reserved weekend was only a handful of weeks away, and she needed to get these plans finalized before it was too late. 

At her side, her phone buzzed, the vibration scaring (Y/N) out of her skin for a brief second. 

Blindly reaching, she brought her phone up, effectively blocking her laptop screen. A text message had come through. From Harry. 

     Are you busy?

She sighed, lips thinning as she debated answering. While she was busy, the idea of being distracted sounded much more fun than looking at another aquarium dining space—complete with a tab that would take her months to work off. 

    Not really why??

With that, a call came through. Also from Harry. 

(YN) clutched her phone. She'd only talked to him on the phone once, and it was brief. He'd hadn't been able to reach his mother and needed quick directions to the brunch spot he met them that first weekend. She had barely talked to him, passing along the phone to his mother in the same breath as her greeting. 

Tapping her thumb on the green circle, (Y/N) accepted the call before she could think better of herself. It was just Harry, she drilled into her head. Just Harry—a friend and nothing more. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, you," was his greeting, his accented voice flowing through the speakers in a way that almost felt offensive. How dare he answer he as if he was just as happy to hear her voice as she was for him? 

"What's going on?" she forced out, hoping it sounded a lot more casual than she felt. 

Harry let out a sigh, the sound of rustling fabric audible in the background. "Nothing jus' trying to figure out m'plans for the stag weekend. Figured I'd call you since y'have all the answers." 

His tone had been teasing, lilting through a smile. He knew she had been struggling to figure out what to plan for everyone, but she hadn't revealed just how much of a problem she was having. The last time they had even really discussed the topic was a week ago, when she felt as if she had all the time in the world to thread something together. 

Today, after looking at the calendar and the countdown to the agreed upon dates, his poking didn't feel so funny. 

"Um, yeah," she muttered, running a stressed hand down her face, "I'm figuring out everything right now, and finalizing stuff. I'll let you know for sure when I can." 

A brief pause settled between them. 

"(Y/N)," Harry started, his voice decidedly gentle compared to the teasing a moment before. "Y'alright?" 

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry," she murmured, stumbling over her thoughts. "It's just been a little bit of a long week, so I'm really tired." 

She meant to finish on a breathy laugh, lighthearted even if she didn't really feel that way.  Instead, it came off as just a little bit sad. 

"Bad week? Or jus' a lot?"

"A lot," (Y/N) sighed, "But it's alright. I think once I get everything figured out for the party, I'll be fine." 

"If y'want, I can take over some things. I can make calls or set up reservations. Whatever y'need." 

A small quirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "That would  be really nice, Harry," she started, resigning herself to telling the truth, "but, I actually haven't picked out anywhere or decided anything yet. It's a lot harder to plan something that has the vibe of a fishing trip, but served high-class food. The closest I've found is this place with a 'lobster' claw machine." 

(Y/N) didn't have to see him to know he blanched at the idea, his scoff evidence enough that he was on the same page as her. 

 "Yeah , that might not be what mum's looking for," Harry laughed. (Y/N) wished she could see his dimples. "I can take a look around too, though. It might help to have some more eyes."

Her lips thinned at the idea. She was supposed to be taking this on by herself; Gemma and Harry had enough on their plate, it didn't feel fair to pawn any more tasks off. 

"I don't know," she mumbled, "You and your sister are already don't so much, I don't want to—" 

"(Y/N), 's alright. 'S just a couple of google searches, 's not a big deal," Harry interrupted her, his voice gentle, "'M getting a little worried about you." 

He ended with a breath of laughter, though (Y/N) found it hard to buy that he wasn't sharing a little bit of honesty with her. 

With her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) blinked at her laptop screen once more. If she had to figure out how to reword "fancy fishing restaurant" one more time, she might explode. If anything, it would be nice to take a small break from attempting to make these decisions. 

"That would be nice, Harry. Thank you."

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke again, "See? I told you, y'needed me." 

(Y/N) didn't even attempt to argue.

—————

Through bleary eyes, (Y/N) caught the time on her phone. One in the morning. The phone call with Harry had just hit over the four hour mark. 

"But, yeah," Harry laughed, cutting himself off with a small yawn, "I don't plan on going to any of my school reunions. I don't think it'd go over very well." 

(Y/N) let out a peal of laughter, the noise quiet and tired. "I think you should; it would be very funny, at the least." 

"Maybe," he hummed, "If I don't get arrested." 

"For something that happened ten years ago? I don't know," she countered, singing the syllables, "We'll only know for sure if you go." 

"Then y'have to come with me. If I get in any trouble, 'm making it your problem." 

It could be the late hour making her delirious, or the fact that she wasn't able to convincingly lie to herself at the moment, but it felt like something to have Harry casually make those future plans with her. 

"I'll be there," she cemented through a sleepy smile. 

A pause settled between them, the sound of rustling sheets audible through the phone.

"I should let y'go, (Y/N). 'S later than I thought," he drawled, "I didn't mean to keep you up." 

"No, it's okay," she insisted, "This was nice. Thank you for helping me—and hanging out with me tonight." 

I missed you is what she wanted to say. Just barely was she able to choke the thought back. 

"You've got me, you know that," he promised, "But, all of the confirmations and everything should go to you. If you need anything though, you can send them to me, I don't mind." 

"Thanks, H," she hummed, letting her eyes fall to a close. "I'll talk to you soon?" 

"Of course—I'll probably start bothering you first thing in the morning." He spoke as if his first text message wasn't going to be the highlight of her day. 

"That'll be nice," she let slip, incredibly warm with the tufts of her bedding fluffed around her, "And I'll actually see you in a few weeks." 

"That'll be really nice," Harry said, something running under his tone she was too tired to examine, "'M excited, (Y/N)." 

"Me too," she yawned. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," Harry drawled, tongue lingering over her name, "Sleep well" 

"Goodnight, Harry," she smiled.

There was a brief moment. A pause where neither of them hung up.

(Y/N)'s breath caught, suddenly so awake compared to just a moment ago. 

Then the call cut. 

Four hours on the phone with him, leaving with sore, smiling cheeks and drooping, sleepy eyes. 

In three weeks, she would see him again for the first time in months. Everything was going to be fine—and normal. 

—————

"To mum and Mick. Congratulations." 

Flutes of champagne were raised over a white-tableclothed table, sparkling and golden. Smiling faces were shared over the setting, blushing cheeks on Anne's face with an eye-crinkling smile on Uncle Mick's. The clinking of the glasses sounded in the quiet, reserved space before being brought to smiling lips. 

A wonderful way to end dinner. 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to meet Harry's eyes across the flute. He was already looking at her, bouncing his brows when he caught her attention.

She looked away first, cheeks warming. 

"Thank you, Gem," Anne smiled, voice sing-songing over the syllables. "I love you so much, you know." 

Gemma only smiled at her mother. That was definitely the third glass of champagne beginning to talk. "I love you too, mum. Just as much." 

Anne's eyes watered, glossing the already glazed look over her irises. "Both of you," she said, looking to her children, "The best, you are. I couldn't be luckier." 

Gemma shared a sly smile with her husband at her side as Harry opened his mouth to take on his mother's emotional reaction. Only for Anne to cut him off, turning her attention to (Y/N).

"And, you," she started, folding her hands over her heart, "I couldn't be more excited to have you in my family. Thank you for everything you've done for Mick." 

Though (Y/N) thought it was a little bit funny, the slur to Anne's words and the overly affectionate way she spoke to her, but she couldn't help but to match a bit of that emotion. It was nice to hear something so loving, and know that she would be there for her Uncle Mick when (Y/N) wasn't able to. 

"Of course," she smiled, hoping no one noticed the slight sniffle of her nose, "I can't wait to be a part of your family either. I know my Uncle Mick is very lucky to have you." 

It was then that Anne broke, letting out a stream of sobs. (Y/N) watched as her Uncle had his own soft smile on his face, amused at his bride's antics though there was a matching sheen to his eyes. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, looking at the guests in attendance. 

"Tonight was very special, you guys. Thank you," he smiled, complete joy in his eyes, "I think it's time we head home." 

Gemma was quick to agree, a gentle hand on her mother's arm. "Us too," she smiled, glancing at her husband, "It's time we get back and let the sitter go home." 

When neither Harry nor (Y/N) disagreed, no one hesitated to start getting up and readying for the journey home. Jackets were donned, and eyes were wiped. While Anne was busy with her children,  her hushed voice emotional, Uncle Mick came right to (Y/N).

"Thanks, kiddo. Really," he muttered, "This was perfect—and I doubt it was easy." He cast his gaze through the bow windows encompassing this private room.

Outside, the shining lake rippled under the moonlight, dock rocking in the waves. The elegance Anne had requested came in the crown molding and clean decor, while Mick's requests came through in the dock outside and the fresh seafood from the kitchen. How (Y/N) had overlooked this place through her searches, she wasn't sure, but she wasn't sure she would have been able to do this without Harry. 

"Harry helped a lot," (Y/N) specified, beaming up at Mick, "But I'm happy you liked it. I'm happy you're happy."

Seeing the way he looked over his shoulder at his bride-to-be, (Y/N)'s heart almost burst. How truly lucky were they. The perfect movie they made. 

"Love you, kiddo," Uncle Mick murmured, wrapping her in a hug, "You going back to the hotel?" 

"Probably," she nodded, "We're still looking for your suit tomorrow, right?" 

"Yeah," her uncle sighed, not entirely excited at the idea of the outfit, but willing to do what it took to make his soon-to-be wife happy. "I'll pick you up, okay?" 

"Thank you," she smiled, giving him one more hug. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight," he smiled, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before departing. 

Anne was passed from her daughter to her almost-husband, happily falling into his arms with loose limbs. She gave a noncommittal wave to the group following after her.

Gemma was the next to depart, hugging (Y/N) and sharing her thanks for planning this part of the evening. Harry didn't attempt to take any of the credit, only watching quietly until it was his turn to bid goodnight to his sister and brother-in-law. 

Out in the parking lot, the pavement bathed in moonlight, (Y/N) rubbed at her thinly covered arms. 

Just she and Harry were left. 

"Tonight turned out really well," Harry commented, a dimpled smile on his face, "Good job, (Y/N)." 

She shook her head. "I just confirmed everything, and you know that. Thank you for getting this all taken care of." 

Harry shrugged, shoulders lifting though he kept his eyes trained on her. It had been like this for most of the night; his undivided attention had clung to her like a second skin. He came back to her every time. The end of every conversation was punctuated by his look to her face, gauging her reaction. It was thrilling, though the thrill was tempered from the fact that she knew she wasn't supposed to keen under his attention like that.

Looking out towards the water that had set the scene for the evening, (Y/N) could feel his eyes on her. She felt a bit crazy, her skin prickling under his attention. There was a large part of her that dreaded the fact that she had to head back to her hotel alone now. They'd barely had time to speak to one another as a group, let alone on their own. She doubted they would have a chance like this again for the rest of the weekend. 

Harry was her family now. Maybe some extra time with him was all she needed to officially understand that. Overwrite those previous flirty memories of him with something much more appropriate. 

That was why she wanted to keep the night going. That was why she opened her mouth, question on the tip of her tongue. 

"Did you..." (Y/N) started, carefully picking her words as she kept her gaze out on the lake, "Are you tired?" 

She could cringe at the sound of her voice tripping over her question.  

"Not really," he drawled, smile audible in his voice, "Are you?" 

"Not really," she repeated, daring to match his gaze. Her skin warmed when she caught him with his eyes already engaged on her. With the moon above draining the world of color around them, his eyes somehow still acted as a beacon, the green rippling like the lake. "Do you want to get a drink, or something?" 

His dimples were cast in shadow, denting his cheeks as his grin grew. "I think I saw a bar not too far from here when I booked this, if y'don't mind walking." 

While her dress didn't exactly agree with the weather, the chilly breeze kicking up the hem and casting goosebumps over her skin, there wasn't a single part of her that could find a reason to decline. 

"Lead the way." 

—————

"After you." 

Harry opened the door with a flourish, bending at the waist as he gestured (Y/N) through the doorway. It was entirely too dramatic, especially for the kind of bar he had taken her to. A peal of laughter left her lips.

The inside of the bar was much warmer than the chilly air outside, enough so that even with the thin jacket on her arms, (Y/N) started to sweat. After Harry entered behind her, the door closed, sealing behind them. 

The nautical bar was a drastic change to the restaurant they had just left. 

Fishing nets were strewn over the ceiling, filled with weather torn life-preservers, various starfish, oysters and clam shells. Sparkling pearls were dotted throughout. The walls were decorated with different portraits depicting sea-faring legends and the glorious ships they sailed. Creaky floorboards sounded under their feet, the lumber matching that that boarded up the walls and made the majority of the round tables of the bar. The bartop itself was a candy apple-red, sleek and only a little scuffed. The mirrored back wall of the bar was lined with liquor, reflected int the low light of the establishment, only a single bartender fixing drinks for people (Y/N) had no doubt were a mix of regulars, and people like she and Harry who were just looking for a drink after touring through the area. 

When a gentle hand landed on her back, ushering her forward, (Y/N) stiffened. Blinking behind her, she knew the touch came from Harry, though it still had her throat running dry just to see that it was, in fact, him looking out for her.

He cast his eyes around them as they slowly approached the bar, the whining floorboards louder than his voice, "'S a little different than the pictures online." 

"Yeah?" she smiled, following his eyes to the portrait of a fishing captain with a sopping beard and hardened eyes. Truthfully, (Y/N) worried that if she looked away and then glanced back at the painting, a skeleton or ghoul would be in his place. "I can't believe that." 

Harry let out a breathy laugh at her joke. Stepping to the bar, he didn't build upon their teasing, instead, pulling one of the vinyl stools out for (Y/N) to sit. Taking the proffered seat, she pretended to study the liquor bottles behind the bar instead of just how close Harry was now that he took the spot at her side. Especially when he settled in with his legs spreading, his knee touching hers. 

 "You kno—" 

"What can I get you two?" 

The gruff voice of the bartender cut Harry off unceremoniously, his tired eyes flicking between the two of them impatiently. 

"(Y/N)?" Harry murmured, letting her go first as if she was going to be able to concentrate when she heard the syllables of her name wrapped in his voice. 

"Um," she stumbled, looking at the bottles behind the barkeep as if it were a menu, "A—uh—a cosmo? Or just a vodka cranberry? Something like that." 

The bartender bounced his brows as he grunted. He must not have liked (Y/N)'s answer as much as she didn't. Harry's order went much smoother, even if he did have to wipe the sly smile off of his lips as he asked for a whiskey, neat. 

As soon as the man who could have easily been the subject of one of the paintings left them be as he started their drinks, (Y/N) hung her head in her hands. "Oh my god," she quietly groaned. 

Harry nudged her with his shoulder, ducking his head to conspire with her though she didn't really feel like he was on her side given the way he had to bite back his amusement. "It wasn't that bad." 

"Yes it was," she laughed, "I thought he was going to ID me and think it was a fake." 

He shrugged. "We've got time." 

(Y/N) let out a laugh, feeling a little less embarrassed as she turned to look at him, cheek cushioned by her hand. It was quite the feeling, to know that they really did have time. At least for tonight (after their parents joint bachelor/rette parties, of course). Then, she would come to her senses, and live the rest of her life with Harry as her legal sibling. 

"Right. We've got time." 

—————

"Harryyy."

"Yes?" 

"Harryyy."

"Yes, (Y/N)?"

"Harryyy—" 

Putting his hand out, Harry stopped her from spinning on her stool. (Y/N)'s singsong voice stopped right in its tracks when she saw him, warmth creeping up her neck, though she doubted it was from the alcohol. Even if there was a lot of that in her system. 

"What, (Y/N)?" he laughed, craning his neck as he crowded around her. 

"Do you think they'd let me do karaoke, even if there isn't a stage?" 

Another bright laugh left Harry's lips at her words. "I think there might be a little more missing than jus' the stage, but 'm sure we can work something out. You've got to ask first, though." 

Giving a slight incline of his head, (Y/N) followed to see him gesturing to the bartender. The one person in the whole room she was sure would immediately shoot down her idea. As if it wasn't a fun one. 

"H, you know he's going to say no." 

"I don't know," Harry crooned, "Y'should probably ask. He might like karaoke, too." 

A light could have pinged over her head. He really could like karaoke, he's just shy about it. It would only take a little bit of convincing, maybe even a song or two, and he'd be so on board. Should she start with a ballad or a—

(Y/N) felt someone crowd around her, static running down her back. Harry looked over her head, lips thinning. 

"Hey stranger." 

Blanching at the greeting, (Y/N) whipped her head around. Behind her was a vaguely familiar face. She couldn't place the name, but she knew this man. Even if he was a bit harder to recognize out of uniform.

And acting way more familiar than a waiter should. 

"Hi," (Y/N) answered with an owlish blink. 

The man paused, as if waiting for something more to come out of her mouth. Nothing did. 

He let out an awkward laugh, thrown off by her lack of response. "Wedding things over for the night?" 

Behind her, she could hear Harry shifting over his seat. Just that much closer to her, his knee brushing against hers. 

"For tonight, yeah," he answered for her, "Jus' getting a couple of drinks before going back home." 

The man hummed, nodding his head. He didn't pay much attention to Harry, only looking at him for as long as it took him to finish his words before he was stitching his eyes back to (Y/N). 

"You should've told me you were looking to go out tonight. I could have shown you the good spots." 

It was a bit childish the way she pouted at him. "This place is good," she countered. 

She wasn't going to let him speak bad about this place. Harry picked it and she was having fun. 

"Well yeah, but," he started, "There's a couple of other places that look a little more your speed."

"I'm having fun here," she insisted, reaching blindly back towards Harry, "He picked it. I like it." 

It was odd the way he looked at her. The way he followed her hand as she found his leg. He looked through her, searching for something more. 

"Aren't you..." he started voice trailing off before Harry stepped in. 

"I think we're alright for now, man," Harry said, "I think we're gonna head home soon, anyway." 

Whatever this man had been looking for before had been pushed to the wayside. Something a little too fast flash through his eyes for her to decipher, though the brown of his irises lacked some of the flirty warmth from before.

He decidedly ignored Harry, looking towards (Y/N) as if Harry hadn't spoken at all. 

"Let me buy you a drink at least," he charmed, dipping his head until he was level with her. "I can't lie, I was hoping that dinner wasn't the only time I'd see you." 

(Y/N) blinked. She opened her mouth to say something disjointed and a little too drunk back, only for Harry to pipe up.

"I think we're alright; the tip we left earlier should have been enough. Thanks." 

His hand landed gently upon her own where it sat on the cuff of his knee, warming her skin.

That searching look was back on the man's face, gaze locked on their hands. 

"I thought... Isn't she your sister?" the man blanched, scoffing. 

"Actually," (Y/N) hiccuped, "I'm his stepsister. But, not even that, if you want to get specific. His mom is marrying my uncle, so it's, like, legally even less than that." 

(Y/N)'s bubbling didn't make much sense, but it didn't appear that this man was listening anyway. He only looked towards Harry, as if he was the one that was attempting to argue these details. A frown tipped her lips.  

"We're alright, mate." 

The man paused for a moment. Shaking his head, he muttered under his breath, "Weird," before stalking away. 

Her brows knitted together as she watched him leave to haunt a different corner of the bar, a group of people she hadn't noticed before welcoming him in with conspiratorial glances and whispered voices. 

"Sorry," Harry muttered behind her, causing her to whirl on the stool to face him, "I should have asked if you..." 

She canted her head at him. She was too drunk for things to not be spelled out. "What?" 

He let out a short laugh, dropping his gaze from hers as he knuckled at his nose. "I... Did y'want to talk to him? I didn't mean to get involved if y'were..." 

"No," (Y/N) shook her head, "He was being annoying. Was he from the restaurant?" 

There was a line holding Harry's shoulders that seemingly was cut loose then, dropping the lines of his body into something much more relaxed. "He was, yeah. Can't remember his name, though." 

"Me neither!" she blurted, reaching towards him with her hands landing on his shoulders, "I thought I was just really drunk, so that's nice to—"

As if on command, she suddenly stumbled from her stool, falling into him with a gasp. Harry didn't hesitate before his hands landed on her waist, steadying her with a tight grip. Her heart bounced around her chest as she came down from. Looking up at him through the fan of her lashes, she saw him already watching her, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

"Y'alright?" he asked, a pinch between his brows. 

"Yeah, sorry," she answered, simply, melting into him despite being more than capable of settling into her own spot once more. He was too comfortable, too warm, too everything she had been thinking about for months now to move on. And she was too tipsy to know better. "Thanks for catching me." 

With her cheek pressed against his chest, Harry's hold on her shifted until he had his arm around her middle. The other waved down the bartender. 

"I think 's time we get y'home, love." 

"No," she whined, "We just got here." 

The laugh he let out rumbled underneath her cheek, warming her further from the sound alone. "Maybe a few hours ago. You've got a big day tomorrow anyway, y'need to sleep." 

"Maybe," she sighed, eyes fluttering to a close as Harry handled their tab. "Are you coming tomorrow? For the suits?" 

"No," he murmured distractedly, "'M going home tomorrow, remember?"

"But you just got here," she argued, suddenly offended at the idea of airports and planes and flight times. What was the point of any of that if that meant Harry would be miles and miles away from her again? 

"I know," he smiled, standing from his spot with a guiding hand on her back, "But we'll see each other again soon, okay? I'll make sure of it." 

She didn't doubt his promise. If Harry wanted to see her, he would make it happen. 

(Y/N) could only stare at him with stars in her eyes, warmth simmering under her skin. 

They had time, she reminded herself. Even if just tonight. 

—————

"C'mon, (Y/N). Gotta help me, love." 

"Okay." 

"Love, you've gotta stand up on your own for a second, 'kay? Jus' until I get the door open, then I can help y'again." 

"Okay." 

"(Y/N)." 

"Hm?" 

Harry sighed, the curve of his lips audible. Looping his arm tightly around her waist, he continued attempting to get the keycard to her hotel room to work, all while she clung to him, almost sliding down his body now that he wasn't devoting all of his attention to steadying her. 

She was too tired. How could he expect her to stand up on her own when she was so tired she almost fell asleep on the way here? It was unrealistic. Especially when he was offering his body as her crutch; he was warm like a blanket, firm yet forgiving at the same time. The perfect kind of pillow. 

A faint technological beep came from behind her. Harry fiddled around for a moment before he was clutching her again. 

"C'mon," he murmured through an amused smile, guiding her inside though she didn't bother to turn around and face forward with her steps. Instead, she let Harry do the heavy lifting, getting her through the threshold and letting the lumbering door click to a close behind them. 

Her hotel room was small and rudimentally furnished, stiff carpet under their feet. When she had checked in, she hadn't thought much of the space. Now, through bleary eyes with Harry holding her so carefully, it was the prettiest, coziest, most comforting place she'd ever come to spend the night in. 

Her clothing was still strewn out of her opened suitcase, the lamp on the side of her bed turned on with the television streaming the default channel for the hotel. A normal, sober part of herself would have felt a bit embarrassed at the sight of her panties hanging out of her luggage, knowing Harry would no doubt spot it. But, she wasn't normal or sober. She was drunk and clinging to Harry like a lifeline. 

"There we go," Harry mumbled, depositing her on the edge of her bed. He stood before her, running a hand through his hair. "Y'gonna be alright?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, looking up at him with what she was sure were hearts in her eyes, "Are you?" 

Harry laughed. His smile, dimples and all, was more intoxicating than any mixed drink could hope to be. "I think I'll be alright, (Y/N)." 

She canted her head as she looked up at him, taking in the rumpled collar of his white shirt, now sporting a smudge of her pink lipstick. "Do you really have to leave tomorrow?" 

His lips thinned as he gazed down at her. "Yeah. I do." 

Her lips puffed into a pout, wandering hands reaching for the hem of his shirt. "When am I going to see you again, then?"

"I don't know," he answered, lips into a lopsided smile, "Before the wedding, hopefully?" 

"Just hopefully?" she whined, using her grip on his shirt to tug him down until he was forced to flop onto the mattress at her side. "I thought we'd see each other more when we found out... everything." 

Harry only let out a heavy sigh. His eyes glanced around her face, searching through the planes of her features. "I know." 

(Y/N) laid back on her bed, suddenly hit with a weight that she had avoided thinking about for the last few hours. She could feel Harry's eyes following her.

"I don't want to be mean," she said, speaking quietly in the empty of the hotel room, "But it kind of sucks, right?" 

A beat passed. 

"What do y'mean?" His voice was strained. She didn't need to look at him to know that he knew what she meant. 

"Like," she started, matching his gaze, "You know. Everything. I'm happy for them, but... We get along so well, you know? At least I think we do." 

A small quirk tugged at his lips. A sad curl. "We do, don't we?" 

"I think we would have had a lot of fun," she smiled, biting back a yawn. 

"Aren't we already?" he asked, falling back to lay beside her. 

This close, (Y/N) was able to see the details that had made her heart race all those months ago. The shatters of green in his irises. The sprinkle of freckles along his nose. The scar on his chin. The uneven stubble shadowing his cheeks. 

"Yeah," she exhaled, tone dreamy. She reached for him, her fingers grazing over the warmth of his cheek. "I just—I thought, when we met...I thought it would be different for us." 

Harry didn't say anything. His eyes fluttered closed as she touched his face, fingertips grazing over the lines of his features. Touching his cupid's bow had her heart hammering in her chest.

"Didn't you?" 

When Harry blinked his eyes open, he matched her gaze unabashedly. "I did." 

Reaching up to grab her hand, he laced their fingers together and pulled the bundled limbs to his chest. "But, we're alright like this, don't y'think?" he murmured, that sad smile back on his face, "At least we never had a chance to mess anything up." 

She knew he was attempting to spin her thoughts into something hopeful. That they would be happy and partners in crime together like this for the rest of their lives. And it would be okay. There would never be a need or even a thought for anything more. 

But, all that stood out to her was that they never had a chance. 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth, a well of emotion crashing behind her ribs. "We never had a chance." 

"Oh, (Y/N)," he crooned, collecting her in his arms until her cheek was cushioned in his neck and his arms were a comforting cage around her waist. 

She melted into him, reveling in the warmth of his hold and the blocks of muscle making up his body. There was so much softness to him, with the way he touched her, the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her. So much she could have gotten to know, she thought. There were always going to be parts of him that she wouldn't know.

"I miss you already," she whispered. 

"You know I've got you, love. 'M always here." 

"Not in the way I want." 

It was bravery in the form of alcohol and the lack of eyes on her face that made it so easy for the words to slip out. Though it didn't feel so right when his hands on her back paused. 

It felt even worse when he started disentangling himself from her hold, the phantom of his arms lingering around him. He slowed when he caught her eye, his own a bit sad to match the own on his lips. 

"I know," he whispered, "Me too, (Y/N). But, we're going to be alright. Like this, we're going to be okay." 

She didn't stop him when he left her hotel room, the door clicking behind him. He will be on a flight tomorrow, leaving her once more.

Hopefully, he had said, that they would see one another before the wedding. Though, in the silence of the suite, (Y/N) didn't have to be sober to know she had been a mistake, speaking so blatantly. The hope he had shared that they would see each other again before the wedding was no doubt diminished. 

Blinking up at the texture of the ceiling, she sighed. 

What the fuck had she done?

—————

"My uncle said he can pick me up from the airport, so that should be fine." 

"Good, good," Gemma mumbled, "And you're staying with me and my mum or did you want your own space for the week?" 

"I mean," (Y/N) mused, "I was going to leave it up to you guys. I can get a room somewhere if you want family time, or whatever you want." 

"Well, you are family now, (Y/N). You're more than welcome to stay with us. I know my mum would enjoy getting to spend time with you." 

(Y/N) wanted so badly to glow at the thought of being welcomed into a family like the Styles'. She had wished for years that she would somehow find out she had a long-lost sister or any sibling at all to spend her days with. 

Instead, she was grateful this was only a phone call, so Gemma didn't catch the way her lips tightened at the idea of being considered family to someone she had attempted to kiss the night of her uncle's bachelor dinner. 

And been promptly rejected by, of course. 

But, she was over all of that, she reminded herself. Just like Harry was. 

"I think that would be a lot of fun, Gemma. Thank you," she accepted in a way she hoped was gracious. 

"Mum's going to be so excited to hear that," Gemma bubbled, "That works out perfect, too, since I think Harry and Michel are going to stay with your uncle for the week. Keep up the whole tradition thing, everyone all separate." 

(Y/N)'s lips pinched that much more at the mention of his name. She could still feel the way the emptiness of her hotel room settled over her when he had left. Nothing was more sobering than that, she found.

"Yeah," (Y/N) chirped, "It's cute."

Gemma let out a bubbly laugh, "Exactly. Okay, so I'll get with mum and figure out all of the little things we still need to do before the wedding, and I'll let you know as soon as I know!"

"So exciting! I can't wait." There was a part that really was very excited and was looking forward to seeing her Uncle Mick get married, eager for him to be happy again after experiencing so much grief the years prior. There was another large part of her that could wait a little longer; wait a few more months, or even a year before she saw Harry again. At least long enough for her to have forgotten that night at the bar, and have a new boyfriend. 

Gemma chattered a bit more, thinking out loud as she ticked things off her list. (Y/N) was fine being her sounding board, nodding and humming where needed before sharing a quick goodbye. 

Locking her phone, (Y/N) was left in the quiet of her apartment. It was a little too close to the silence at the hotel room, the experience at the forefront of her mind. 

Pursing her lips, she gripped the edge of her countertop. She was going to see Harry again, in just a couple of weeks. 

Should she text him? Attempt to clear the air before even seeing him? 

No, it was bad enough that she had scared him off, she couldn't be the one to reach out first. Months after, even. If he wanted to talk to her, he would have by now—even if only to clear the air. 

It was times like this that she wished she had siblings. If she had a brother or a sister, she wouldn't be walking into this whole thing by herself. Despite her Uncle being there, his wedding wasn't exactly the setting to let him know that she'd attempted to go out with his new wife's son—the one that would be her stepbrother for all intents and purposes.

Legally, though, she corrected herself. Stepcousins.

(Y/N) sighed. That still didn't sound very good, especially not when she usually just considered her uncle her dad, no matter what she called him. 

Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. (Y/N) flinched back at the noise before reaching for the device. 

On the screen she had a single notification. A text message from a friend. 

Mitchell Row-Lund

     How was the phone call? Do you have to room with that guy? 

Staring at the message thread, an idea came to mind. It wasn't a good one. (Y/N) could even field an argument about how it is actually a stupid idea. But it was an idea, nonetheless.

Gemma did say she still had a plus one available. And, it wasn't like Mitch had anything going on, she knew that for a fact.

Plus, he knew some of what was going on with Harry, sans many details, but enough to understand why it was a very big deal that she couldn't go into this alone. Uncle Mick would enjoy seeing him too. 

Ignoring the text, (Y/N) called Mitch's contact instead. It only took a couple of rings before he picked up. 

"Hello?" 

"Mitch, are you busy in, like, three weeks?" 

"(Y/N)..." 

—————

"Are you sure you girls don't need help with anything?" 

Gemma whipped around from the stove where she was spreading the different layers to the lasagna. She gave her mother a glare. 

"Mum," she reprimanded, "We're fine. You're supposed to be relaxing." 

"I know, I know," she sighed, "But, I don't mind helping. I can—" 

"No," Gemma cut her off, abandoning her post at the stove to escort her mother back to the glass of chardonnay waiting for her in the living room. "Your only job is to answer the door when the boys get here, and watch your show." 

Anne hmphed, casting a playful roll of her eyes only where (Y/N) could see. A huff of laughter left her lips as she watched the mother-daughter duo argue before Anne relented to actually being taken care of for the night. It was sweet, the kind of banter and familiarity they had between one another. It reminded (Y/N) of the relationship she had with her aunt. It was nice to know that her Uncle was marrying into a family like this. 

"When will she learn?" Gemma joked when she reentered the kitchen, casting a very familiar roll of her eyes towards (Y/N). "It's like pulling teeth to get her to relax." 

"She's too sweet for her own good," (Y/N) said, continuing the chopping of the vegetables for the side salad. 

"Her biggest flaw," Gemma sighed, shaking her head. 

"I can hear you!" 

Anne's shout from the living room drew laughter from both of them. 

"Then what did I say?" Gemma shot back, giving (Y/N) a look like watch this.

A pause. 

"I don't know, but I know you're whispering!" 

Gemma lifted her brows like see. It was enough to pull another peal of laughter from her. It was already shaping up to be quite the night. The last one before the wedding, before Mitch would be in town and the first time she would be forced to speak in a confined room with Harry since arriving. 

She had been lucky enough to avoid being alone with him, the activities and rooms having been too busy to catch more than a single glance of him before rushing through. It was the nice part about Anne and Uncle Mick wanting to uphold a bit of tradition, the bridal party and groomsmen being separated as much as possible during this last week. 

(As far as (Y/N) remembered, she thought it was only the night before the ceremony where this distance mattered. She wasn't going to correct anyone, though).

But, tonight had come and her sanctuary was on a timer.

In Anne's cozy dining room, there was nowhere to hide from Harry. Especially not when this evening was considered a family dinner. 

(Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth as she kept her eyes on her hands, attempting to focus on the strokes of the knife and not anything else. Especially not the time. 

That did seem to work against her, though, when the knock on the door took her by surprise. She hadn't had time to brace herself, school herself into someone who didn't care about whatever happened tonight. 

Her throat bobbed when she heard the sound of Anne's front door opening, a familiar set of voices sounding from the stoop. 

Gemma practically beamed as she slid the pan of lasagna into the oven before rushing out to meet her husband, who also had her daughter on his hip. (Y/N) lingered back, listening to the sounds of the stitched together family. 

This time tomorrow, her uncle would be married and she would have two new siblings. One of them being the man she could hear right now cooing to his niece. 

Wiping down the knife and placing it off to the side, (YN) ran a stressed hand through her hair. Seeing her uncle would make her feel better, she thought. She'd start there. 

"Hey kid," her uncle murmured when he caught sight of her. His creased eyes lit up as she stepped into his hug. "How are you?" 

"I'm good," she smiled, making sure her eyes stayed stitched on his face with not even a peek over his shoulder, "How are you, though? Tomorrow's the day." 

(Y/N) could see light practically dancing through his eyes when he cast his own gaze behind himself, where the cooing of a baby and her fawning audience could be heard. "Excited. Really excited." 

"Good, good," (Y/N) smiled, suddenly feeling a bit choked up. She wondered if this was how he was going to feel when she had her own wedding (fingers crossed, anyway. She needed to find a partner first before considering a wedding.)

"The lasagna has a few more minutes in the oven, but (Y/N)'s salad is almost done. Harry, you can set the table." 

Perking up at the sound of her name, (Y/N) regretted it as soon as she heard Harry's only a moment later. Gemma was playing the role of gracious hostess, though it didn't appear she could turn down the opportunity of bossing her little brother around. 

Though, it didn't seem like he minded much at all. Harry only gave a beaming grin to his niece before poking at her stomach and making his way towards the dining room.

For the first time since walking through the door, their eyes met. 

(Y/N) felt her throat run dry. The last time she saw those shatters of green, the intensity of his gaze turned in her direction, he had been telling her that there wasn't any room for what she wanted with him. That they were going to be okay—whatever that was supposed to mean. 

All after she had so clumsily fallen all over him, even attempting to kiss him.

Harry only cracked a small, polite smile. Not a single dimple or crease on his freckled nose appeared. 

"You made a salad tonight?" Uncle Mick asked her, ripping her back to reality, "And you still have all your fingers?"

Turning to face him, (Y/N) plastered a smile on her face, playing into his small joke. "Barely. Gemma had to sew my pinky back on, but I think it should be better by tomorrow." 

Her uncle let out a boisterous laugh at her jest, none the wiser to whatever had passed between her and Harry only a breath before. 

This was going to be a long dinner.

—————

"Dinner was wonderful, ladies. Thank you." 

Uncle Mick handed out praises to the women at the table, though Anne was quick to shrug it off. 

"It was all the two girls," she insisted, "I was quarantined to wine-and-couch duties." 

(Y/N) didn't have to peek under the table to know that her uncle had squeezed his bride's hand. All she needed to see was the affection that painted his gaze as he looked at her. "Well deserved," he muttered to her before looking to where (Y/N) and Gemma were sitting side-by-side, "Thank you two, then. Everything has been amazing." 

Gemma gave a similar reaction to her mother, shrugging it off with a shy smile on her face. "Of course. It's the least we could do for the happy couple, right?" 

She gave a look to (Y/N) the shadow of dimples in her cheeks. Too much like Harry, (Y/N) thought. She still made sure to nod and smile along. 

"I'm happy everyone liked it," (Y/N) interjected, hoping she sounded more present than she really felt. Especially when she could feel eyes on her—eyes she had been pointedly avoiding all throughout the meal. 

Anne stood up, beginning to collect dishes from the mats around the table. "I can start cleaning up, and—" 

"Mum, no. I thought Gemma told you that you're not supposed to be doing any hard work tonight." 

Harry's clear voice had (Y/N) blinking, her spine stiffening as she kept her eyes on her soon-to-be aunt. 

She scoffed at his words. "Doing the dishes in my own home is far from hard work, Harry. You kids—" 

"Anne," Uncle Mick piped up, a gentle hand landing on her arm, "Let them take care of this. There's still some time before I think we call it a night, and there's wine still in the bottle." 

(Y/N) watched as Anne's eyes softened, features flourishing into a gentle smile. 

"Oh alright," she relented, "Just for tonight. And, maybe tomorrow." 

That was (Y/N)'s cue to begin collecting the dishes herself. Gemma had done the hard work by putting together the main part of the meal, and deserved a moment with her child and husband. Besides, the quiet of the kitchen and task of taking care of the dishes was what she needed after being on edge during dinner. 

"I've got it, then," she offered, beaming a smile to her Uncle, "You guys go relax for a little while." 

Arms laden with china and silverware, (Y/N) took to the kitchen while the rest of the family moved onto the other room. A heavy breath left her lips. 

She fixed her eyes to the faucet as the sink filled with warm water, soap bubbles forming on the surface. 

Truthfully, she knew there wasn't any reason to be so nervous, so stiff, all night. It wasn't like Harry was going to speak about that night out in the open—if he wanted his family to know, he'd had months to expose the facts before now. But, he hadn't. 

It was a bit pathetic to admit given the fact they had never even so much as kissed, but seeing him felt a lot like running into an ex. Embarrassing, seeing as he had seen her more vulnerable than she felt comfortable showing. Nerve-wracking, as she wasn't sure what kind of reaction she was going to get from him. And a bit heartbreaking; it was hard to see him knowing there was such a definitive line in the sand. 

As if there wasn't always one there, (Y/N) reminded herself. The second they made it to her uncle's house that night, there was always goin to be a barrier between them. 

Flicking off the faucet, she got to work cleaning off the dishes. From the living room, she could hear quiet coos from a sleepy baby, and slight laughter amongst a family sharing memories. 

That was enough to have the line holding her shoulders taut to give. A family. Everything her uncle deserved. 

"Want help?" 

(Y/N) practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of the deep, accented voice suddenly joining her in the space.

 Whipping her head around, she saw Harry lingering in the threshold of the entrance to the kitchen. He had a short smile on his lips, the ghost of dimples in his cheeks. 

Not a real smile. Something polite to be offered to someone he didn't really care to be talking to. 

"No, I'm alright,"(Y/N) answered, just as tight. "Thanks, though." 

"Are y'sure?" he pressed, taking a cautious step inside the barrier of the tiles, "I could dry while y'wash. It'll cut the time in half, or something like that." 

She let out a huff of laughter at his attempt to lighten the mood. She was sure she wasn't the only one feeling a touch of the tension that had gathered. 

She figured she couldn't really continue to avoid him forever. 

"If you really want to," she relented, letting a genuine, though small, smile curl her lips. 

Harry took her words as the invitation needed, crossing the room to join her at the sink. The damp dishes had begun to accumulate on the towel she had laid out at her side. He moved with familiarity through his childhood home, finding another dish towel before pushing up the sleeves of his warm brown sweater. 

Just like the first time she had met him, (Y/N) couldn't help but trace her eyes over the cross tattooed on his hand. Seeing the sleeves of his shirt pushed up, she got a view of what she remembered wondering hid between that cloud-cardigan those months ago. 

A bare-chested mermaid. A nightmarish beetle. A collection of tiny sketches around an anchor at his wrist. 

"So," he started, wiping off the first dish in the pile, "I've barely gotten a chance to talk to y'since we've got here. How have y'been?"

She nodded absently, swiftly turning her gaze to the soapy basin. "I've been alright. Just busy getting the final details figured out with your mom and sister. How about you?" 

"Same," he murmured, "'S all gone by so fast. I can't believe 's already tomorrow. I feel like we were jus' meeting for the first time." 

He meant for the comment to be something lighthearted. They could bond over the passage of time, right? It was easy to nod her head and laugh, tell him that yes, everything had gone by so fast. But she was excited, nonetheless. That his mother was a wonderful person and she couldn't wait to welcome her into their small family. 

Instead, (Y/N) was only able to manage a small smile. 

"Yeah. Crazy." 

Crazy that it really had only been months since she met Harry while perusing wine for her uncle, thinking he was just a handsome stranger. Someone she could see herself going on a date with. 

Now, he was going to be as good as her stepbrother. The revelation left a sour taste in her mouth. 

A beat passed. 

"(Y/N)," Harry started, one of his rings clinking against the plate in his hand, "If y'want to talk about—"

She shook her head. She didn't need to revisit that night. Especially not right now, while washing his mother's dishes in her sink. 

"I don't," she insisted, "Sorry if I'm being weird. I just... I was worried I had scared you off or something, since we haven't talked. But, I'm fine, really." 

"You didn't. Scare me off, I mean," Harry answered, the words coming out in a rush as if a reflex. The pile of damp dishes were forgotten for the moment as he turned his attention to her. "I jus' wanted sure if y'wanted to talk to me after... everything."

"Don't worry about it," she answered, sidestepping just how much she wanted to hear anything from him in the time that had passed since the night at the bar. That she wanted to know if he still even tolerated her. "Everything got a little complicated, so it's probably best we didn't—don't. You know?" 

Harry's expression seemed to solidify at her words. Unmoving, unchanging, though something seemed to leave from his eyes. 

"Yeah," he agreed, a single nod of his head. He waved the cloth in her direction, nonchalant. "We've got a while to figure everything out as long as tomorrow goes well, right?" 

"Right," (Y/N) laughed, a little less rigid. While it wasn't the outcome she may have wanted (that was one where he came in on a flying steed, hearts in his eyes, and unwavering conviction in his feelings for her. Or at least trying it out with her), it was the best outcome she could have predicted. 

They finished the dishes in silence.

—————

(Y/N) clapped, tears in her eyes as she watched her uncle plant a kiss on his blushing bride. The white of her gauzy dress made Anne's skin glow that much brighter, sweet pink and a warm bronze. 

They were now man and wife as the officiant announced, allowing them on their way. 

Falling back into her role as dutiful bridesmaid, she followed after Gemma as the procession to the reception began. Glancing at Mitch, she caught him biting back a smile. She knew he would have something to say about her sobbing two seconds into the ceremony. 

Getting out of the chilly garden and into the reception venue was a needed transition. (Y/N) hadn't even realized her fingers were turning to icicles until the heat from the hall wrapped around her. 

It was quiet in the space. Only a select few of the venue staff milling about as they made the finishing touches on the reception space, and a newly knitted family were present. Much like herself, Gemma had tiny tears in her eyes as she reached for her daughter from her husband's hip. Harry had his mother wrapped up in a long hug.

It was her uncle that brought her attention away from the embrace. He murmured something to her, the words a bit garbled through his thick throat before he had her in his arms. 

(Y/N) didn't hesitate before she was reciprocating the hold. She tucked herself against his chest, feeling just as safe as the day he had told her that she was going to be taken care of now that he was there. The memory only made her snuggle that much closer to him. 

"Congratulations, dad," she whispered, choking up hearing the title she only rarely used. She knew it had the same effect on him when he clutched her tighter, a shuddering breath wracking his chest. 

"Thanks for being here, kiddo. Love you." 

"Love you, too." 

All too soon, her uncle was whisked away to take photos with his bride, the photographer eager to capture the moments with that blissful glow on their faces. Family shots had been taken prior to the ceremony, when everyone's makeup and hair were in perfect condition, leaving (Y/N) a moment alone for the first time that day. 

It wasn't until she was putting on her false lashes that she had heard Harry had brought a date. She knew that there was no reason to have any kind of reaction to that revelation, especially since she had also invited Mitch. And yet, there was still that sour, churning feeling in her stomach.

While it wasn't a thought she nurtured or had the guts to admit, there had been a lingering hope in her that maybe, with everything twisted up and complicated, that there could be something worked out. That Harry was so unhappy with the distance as she was. 

But, he had brought a date. Someone serious enough to invite to a family wedding, though not serious enough to mention to her when they were washing the dishes the night before. 

That was fine. He could do whatever he wanted, just as (Y/N) was doing. 

And neither of them were going to be heartbroken. Least of all (Y/N).

—————

"Are you sure that's his date?" 

(Y/N) only grumbled through her spoonful of gelato. That counted as the third time Mitch had questioned Harry's choice of plus one. And the third time (Y/N) thought she made it abundantly clear that she wasn't interested in speaking on the details of the coupling. It was bad enough explaining to everyone that Mitch was just a friend instead of a boyfriend, he didn't also have to rub it in that Harry had brought a real date. 

"(Y/N), don't get mad at me," Mitch warned, casting his eyes over her head towards the dance floor, "I'm just asking. Because he's barely talked to her all night." 

"Well, that's rude of him, then," (Y/N) cemented, taking another bite of her birthday cake gelato. This dessert had been Gemma's idea—about the same cost as a cake, but many more people could eat from the bar and there wouldn't be a handful of leftover slices that the family would be forced to take home. 

"Will you still think that if I tell you it's been because he's too busy looking at you?" 

She glared at Mitch through furrowed brows. "Right." 

"I'm serious," he hedged, bouncing his brows before tipping his head towards her, urging her to look at her back. "If you turn around right now, you'll see." 

"Just because he's looking at me, doesn't mean anything. He's my brother now, Mitch." 

Reaching for his drink, Mitch didn't look very believing in the story she was spinning. "I would be a little nervous if I had a brother look at me the way he is right now."

 "What does that mean?" 

He knew he had her then, a crooked smile on his lips. "Look for yourself." 

Giving in, (Y/N) pretending to stretch in her spot. She pasted an easy smile on her face as she nonchalantly turned to look over her shoulder. 

There, on the dance floor, with his niece on his hip, Harry's cheeks flushed. He quickly looked away, having been caught by (Y/N) as he gazed at her. His date was fluttering around, speaking to Gemma and her husband with an easy smile on her face. She was familiar with the family—more familiar than (Y/N) would think a new girlfriend would be. 

But, that wasn't any of her business. 

Turning back to Mitch, she attempted to look as if nothing she saw had even sparked a train of thought in her mind. 

"That doesn't mean anything." 

"Right," he drawled, sly smile on his face. "And, he's not coming over here, right now." 

"What?" (Y/N) bubbled, suddenly at attention. Her cup of gelato created in her tightened grip. Whipping her head around, she stopped in her tracks, expression dropping. No one was walking over to their table—let alone Harry. 

A burst of laughter came from her date. 

"That wasn't nice," she said, fighting back her own laughter. Truthfully, while it was pathetic how easy it was to get her to react, she knew if the tables were turned, she wouldn't be able to contain her giggles at Mitch's desperation. 

He shrugged. "It was funny, though." He took a long sip of his drink, ice clinking together. "If you're so jumpy, I don't know why you haven't gone to talk to him at all." 

"Mitch," (Y/N) started, finally abandoning the remnants of her gelato, "It's just not the right time. You already know everything, so." 

"So what? He obviously wants to at least talk to you. Just put him out of his misery." 

(Y/N) shook her head. "Even if things weren't complicated, he brought a date, Mitch. I don't think he's really dying for my company." 

"So?" he repeated, raising his brows, "You brought a date, too. And it's me." 

She could only roll her lips between her teeth. She wasn't going to examine the point he was making. 

"I'm going to get a drink." 

—————

(Y/N) felt entirely too accomplished when Gemma's daughter burst into another round of laughter at the shapes she was throwing on the dance floor. It was easy to make her laugh now that she knew what made the little girl giggle, but it still felt like an all star achievement every time a bubbling peal left her heart-shaped lips. 

"Auntie (Y/N) is just so silly, isn't she?" Gemma babbled to her daughter, equally delighted to hear her having so much fun. The later the night went, the more and more of a miracle it was that she hadn't grown fussy and in need of a bedtime. 

Just as she was about to make another uncoordinated movement, a gentle hand landed on (Y/N)'s shoulder. She saw the gleaming diamond ring adorning the fourth finger first, already knowing who it belonged to. 

"Could I cut in, girls? Sorry to ruin the fun," Anne asked, her beaded gown trailing behind her as she beamed at her granddaughter, "It's my turn to dance with Aunt (Y/N)." She paused, glancing over. "If that's alright, anyway." 

"Yes, of course, of course," (Y/N) bubbled off, "We'll just finish our dance battle later." 

"I'd watch out if I were you," Gemma teased, "After a snack, this one is going to run you out of town, I'm afraid." 

"I'd like to see her try," (Y/N) played along, narrowing her eyes despite the smile attempting to take over her mouth. 

Gemma walked away with a laugh, taking her daughter back to her husband. A happy little family, they were. 

"I can't believe you're still at it," Anne laughed, swaying along to the music with (Y/N), "I can barely handle standing in these shoes, and you've been dancing like nothing." 

(Y/N) lifted the hem of her dress, showing off her socked feet. "I took my heels off hours ago. I got through one dance before I had to make a choice." 

Anne let out a boisterous laugh. The champagne bubbles from the number of toasts recited throughout the night had seemingly had their intended effect. From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) could see both her Uncle Mick and Harry looking in their direction, affectionate smiles on their faces. 

"I'm just happy you're having a good time," Anne crooned, blissful smile stuck to her features, "I was getting worried." 

A furrow pinched (Y/N)'s brows. "You were? Why?" 

A heavy sigh left her lips. "I told Mick I wouldn't say anything," she started, casting her eyes to her new husband, "But, I've just been worried about you and H." 

(Y/N)'s movements lagged in time to the music. "Me and Harry?" 

"Don't tell him I told you," she rushed out, "But, he said there was something? I can't remember exactly what he said, but he just seemed really upset when I told him you were bringing a date, and when I asked what was wrong he just said it was complicated, or something like that. I could tell something was going on last night, but I didn't want to push." 

In so many words, Anne was laying out her mother's intuition. Despite neither she nor Harry divulging any secrets, Anne had been able to pick up on the words between the lines. 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, her grip on the skirt of her dress tightening. 

Anne chewed on her bottom lip before speaking again. "I know it's not any of my business, you kids are adults and can do whatever you want—or don't want. But, I think you should talk to him. If it's complicated in the way I think, I want you to know that... It's okay. Complicated things happen all the time, but that doesn't mean it has to be impossible." 

Champagne was a hell of a drug. 

"Right," (Y/N) answered, a tight smile on her face. "Thank you, Anne. I think I need some air, I'll be right back." 

Before much else could be said, Anne's brother popped in to steal her away for a dance. The heavy subject she had just dropped on (Y/N) was forgotten, instead excited to chat with someone new for the time being. 

That left (Y/N) to swiftly creep out of the venue and into the garden that had previously been fashioned into an elegant aisle for the ceremony.

The chilly air she had been eager to get out of earlier now felt like a balm on her skin. In so many words, Anne had basically given permission for (Y/N) to do whatever she wanted when it came to Harry. Despite the marriage that had just connected them as family. 

It was both freeing and heavy as she stood in the garden. 

Freeing to know that even from someone both removed but so close to the situation, she didn't think (Y/N) was catastrophically insane or unnervingly gross for even considering Harry as someone. 

Heavy to know that they hadn't been quite as undercover as she hoped. Not everyone would agree with Anne's ruling, and (Y/N) dreaded the idea of finding out just who could be on the opposing side. Including Harry and the date he brought tonight.

The music from inside seeped through the open windows. As if reading the mood from even out here, the DJ had switched to a slow song. The singing violins and melodic voice of the singer floated around (Y/N), making it that much easier to be a bit melodramatic as she trailed her finger of a wilting cornflower, the hue matching the color of her dress. 

"There you are." 

(Y/N) didn't have to turn to know who had joined her in the garden. The voice alone was enough to have her spine straightening, goosebumps sparking over her skin. 

She offered a quiet smile to Harry as she dropped her hand from the flower. "Here I am," she said, "Is everything okay?" 

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. A wilting periwinkle flower went lopsided in his breast pocket. 

"Yeah, jus' saw y'with mum and then y'disappeared. I wanted to make sure y'were alright." 

"I'm fine," she offered, "It got a little stuffy in there, that's all." 

"Well," he started, moving towards her until his toes were just on the edge between the patio and the garden, "Y'missed our dates sneaking off together." 

(Y/N) blanched at the information. "Are you joking? I'm so sorry, oh my god. I'll find Mitch right now, I can't be—" 

"No, no," Harry laughed, "'S fine. Sarah's been asking me about him since he got here anyway. I know it was only a matter of time." 

"Oh," she sounded, settling at the information Harry was sharing, "So Sarah's not...?" 

Harry shook his head. "She's a friend I've had for years. Mum loves her, so she was coming whether or not she came as m'plus one. This way she got to pick where she sat." 

(Y/N) laughed. Half from the practicality of this woman's choices, as well as a wave of relief that ran over her. So he hadn't brought a date tonight. Only a friend that was seemingly much more interested in (Y/N)'s date. 

"Mitch is just a friend, too," (Y/N) clarified, pretending as if she didn't hear Anne's voice in the back of her head as she offered the information. 

"I was hoping you'd say that. Otherwise, I was going to have to follow them and beat him up or something." 

"No need," (Y/N) sighed, "He'd be sad if you did that, anyway. He thinks you're cool." 

Harry's eyes brightened. "Really?" 

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," (Y/N) warned, biting back a smile, "He only said that when I told him you put together the music list for the DJ. He thinks you have good taste." 

"Well, he's not wr—" 

"I had to break it to him that you think frosé is better than actual rosé. I think he's still coming to terms with it." 

Mock offense took over Harry's features. "How dare you? I told y'that in confidence." 

(Y/N) shrugged, a playful smile painted on her lips. "I had to save him the trouble of finding out on his own. He never would have recovered." 

Harry shook his head. "'S not even that bad, I don't get it." 

"Coming from someone who thinks frosé is the best wine offering, that makes sense." 

He playfully nudged his shoulder against hers, shaking his head. A beat passed between them, the muffled voices from inside spilling out into the courtyard. 

"I saw y'talking to mum," Harry started, switching off the subject with the tease falling out of his voice, "Looked a little intense." 

She hoped he didn't catch the way her spine stiffened. "It wasn't anything serious," she lied, "Just got a little emotional with everything." 

When Harry didn't immediately answer, (Y/N) chanced a look in his direction. He already had his eyes trained on her, shatters of green examining her features with raspberry lips rolled between his teeth.

"What?" 

"She didn't—" Harry started, cutting himself off before reorienting himself, "It wasn't about anything complicated?" 

(Y/N) blinked. Had their conversation really been that loud?

"Harry, I didn't tell her anything," (Y/N) insisted, "She said she just had a feeling, but I didn't—I don't know how she knew—"

"I told her," Harry piped up, dropping his eyes to the grass at their feet, "Kind of. She could tell something's been going on, and she asked once. She thought I didn't like y'or something. I jus' told her it was complicated, but that must have been enough." 

He let out a huff of laughter though she was sure neither of them were feeling particularly humorous at the moment. 

"'M sorry if she made y'feel uncomfortable or anything. She jus' wants me to be happy, and—"

"She told me it was okay." 

Harry went silent at her admission. Raspberry lips rolled between his teeth. 

(Y/N) waited, a breeze playing with her dress. 

"She said it was okay? That... whatever she thought was happening between me and you, was okay?" 

(Y/N) nodded. 

She watched as the very corners of his lips turned upwards. 

"Your uncle said the same thing." 

A furrow had (Y/N)'s brows pinching above her pointed gaze. "When?" 

Harry's lips stretched into a full smile. "Jus' now." 

It took a moment to process the fact that Harry was telling her this information with a grin on his face. Nothing polite and short. A real, dimple-baring, nose scrunching smile. 

He was happy. He was happy to hear this news. 

That whatever had started those months ago was okay. Whatever that meant for them. 

"This is good," (Y/N) whispered, voice melding with the music from inside the venue, "Right?" 

There was a part of her that wanted to close the distance between them. Crush the grass under her socked feet and cup his jaw between her palms. To slot her lips between his and kiss him. To do the one thing she had been holding back from since that first dinner at her uncle's house. 

But, she needed to wait. She wasn't going to have another moment like that in the hotel room. If Harry wanted her, he was going to have to say it, otherwise she was staying rig—

Taking the leap for her, Harry closed the distance in one long stride. He gently took the line of her jaw in his hands, tipping her head up until the tips of their noses were touching. The length of his lashes were only a breath away from tangling with hers. 

"Really good," he breathed, waiting for her.

That was all she needed to hear before she was stretching to the tips of her toes, pressing her lips to his. 

Harry steadied her with his hands on either side of her face, guiding her into this first kiss. He took her bottom lip between his two, his kiss lingering and sweet. The only urgency came from the fact that they both knew just how long they had waited for this moment, though there was no reason to rush through it. 

She could taste the pistachio gelato he had earlier in the night, alongside the sweet wine served by the bar. With each tip and tilt of her head, she felt the tip of his nose grazing hers, the scruff of his chin against her own, the soft give of his mouth. Reaching up, she bundled her fingers into the lapels of his jacket, keeping the lines of their bodies close together. 

(Y/N) no longer felt the chill in the air, consumed by the feeling of Harry's kiss. This was worth waiting for. Worth the complications, and the uncertainty. Worth bringing Mitch to a family wedding just for him to disappear with someone else's date. (Something she was going to expect a thank you over, if he and Sarah worked out past a hookup). 

Harry drew away first, though only far enough to rest his forehead against hers. Blinking her eyes open, she found him already looking at her, half-lidded with blown pupils.

"'M sorry," he murmured, the fullest points of his lips grazing her own, "About the last time. I should have—I didn't want to leave, I jus'—" 

"It's okay," (Y/N) whispered, puckering her lips to give him a delicate kiss, "I get it. It hurt at the time, but I understand. Everything was just too much then." 

A slight quirk angled his lips. "Complicated, right?" 

(Y/N) couldn't contain the small huff of laughter that fanned from her lungs. "Exactly." 

Tipping his chin, Harry sealed his lips to hers in a lingering kiss. His hands on her jaw slid down, following the line of her arms until he reached her hands. 

"We should go back inside." 

Lacing her fingers between his, (Y/N) made no move to head back inside the venue. 

"Do we?" 

A light danced through his eyes. Casting a glance at the party going on behind them, Harry tightened his hold on her hands. 

"I think we could wait a little longer. Don't you?" 

All (Y/N) could do was attempt to kiss him through her smile. 

—————

thank u sm for reading! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any fun ideas or requests of your own pleaseee send them in!

[4milly]

childish - jey u.

parings: manipulative!jey uso x black!reader

warnings: angst, use of n word, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, jey being an asshole is my fav sorry, cream pie, shower sex, manipulative jey, impregnation, dacryphilia, dumbification (if you squint),

word count: 3.9k (I BEEN GONE I WANTED TO GIVE YALL SOME)

you make me so mad, but i just come right back. it’s like i can’t get over you…

the music blasting through the speakers was enough to tune out the sound of your phone ringing...for nearly the 100th time. sexy redd and a bottle of casamigos mixed together was good enough to take your mind off things, not erase them.

jey called. than he called again. and again. and againnnn. he was doing all he could to reach you. he could play stupid all he fucking wanted too, he knew what the fuck he did. minus the arguing all day—for the last year—, jacob going live on instagram with them in the club last night was the straw that broke the camels back.

"imma head to bed though, ma. my damn head is pounding against my skull and shit" he muttered through the phone on facetime last night.

the call ended with the two of you kissing the screen on some clingy teenager bullshit. you were all googly eyed at him, just completely enamored. your man, your man, your man...all to get a live sent to you 45 minutes later of him in the club with some groupie ass bitch grinding on his lap and his hands on her hips.

all day you were going back and forth, him wanting to know what the problem is and you dodging it, making shady subliminal posts on the gram instead.

"bitch, get out your fucking head! fuck that nigga! he gone feel you this time!" you snapped out of your thoughts hearing lana, your best friend. she was kind enough to round up all the girls, give you her most see through and shortest outfit, do your hair, and makeup. honestly? you felt horrible. you wanted to do nothing more but lay in bed and cry you eyes out. but that nagging anger bubbling inside you was stronger.

she was right. he was gone feel it this time. no matter how much you missed him, it was fuck him right now.

a smile broke out on your glossed lips as, get it sexy began to play, "aw shit nah. get it bitch! cmon y'all!" you all headed to the dance floor ready to leave your problems there.

you lowered to your knees, bouncing your ass to the music. the liquor was starting to flow through your veins rapidly. you even raised your dress up a little just below your ass. one wrong move and you'd be flashing everyone in this damn place.

your back collided with a strong chest, "you showing out over here, baby." the man groaned in your ear, snaking his hands over your waist to pull your ass towards his growing crotch.

the man started kissing and sucking on your neck whilst his hands snaked downwards to your exposed thighs. you leaned your head back against his shoulder, grinding your ass in a circle on his crotch. 

for a moment, your mind went to jey. you felt guilty. what he did was considered inappropriate, and it embarrassed the fuck out you. it was like every month for the last year, it was another random ass bitch he wanted to show his 32's too.

you knew jey would never cheat on you, but that didn't stop the insistent feeling that he didn't at least come close to. coming home smelling like perfume, taking pictures with random ho's from the club, the mall, or at wrestling events. liking their pictures on the gram. it's like you aren't enough for him anymore.

yet, just letting this man touch all on you made you sick. you had a man...even if it felt like you were in the relationship all alone.

"oh shit..." lana mumbled, her eyes nearly falling on the floor

the mans hands raised to squeeze one of your breast, just as he was yanked off you, "aye yo! what the fuck is this shit? this the shit yo ass fuckin doin? you got me so fucked up!"

speak of the devil they shall appear, i guess. anger radiated off jey's body. his nose flared, snarl on his face, and his dickriding ass cousins in tow right behind him. just perfect.

"boy fuck you! you can't take shit you dish out," you yelled back, frustration from the last 24 hours finally spilling out. "get the fuck out my face."

"how do you barge in here like that shit, after having some random—"

"mind yo hoe ass business, lana. you don't know shit about what the fuck you talkin' bout!"

you pushed jey backwards by his chest, "don't talk to her like that! chill—"

"fuck is yo ass even doin' in here! i'm callin' all day to see where my girl at and you letting some random ass motherfucka touch all on you?" jey's eyes narrowed with hatred as his voice continued to raise

"excuse me," a man clearing his throat caught everyone's attention, "i'm going to have to ask all of you to leave the property. this drama has no place here."

jey slowly nodded his head before kissing his teeth. his eyes held so much hate, you barely could recognize him. for a split second, you regretted this whole night. had you just stayed your ass home all this could've been avoided. but he had no right to be a hypocrite. especially, rolling in here with all that bass in his voice like he was a saint.

he mugged you up and down, "you know what? i'm out. have fun with yo hoe ass friends, mama. where that motherfuka at? i got a few condoms for ole boy"

jey's face snapped to the side. his cheek began to sting from the force of your hand, "you got some fucking nerve! you had a fucking headache last night, right? lemme guess, random ass bitches make you feel better? I was on that damn live. but im the hoe? hopefully yo chest hurt just as fuckin bad as my feelings do!"

the next morning felt like war. the house once filled with love between two lovers felt like a cage holding a lion and a tiger...one just waiting for the other to pounce. jey's face adorned with bags, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he stared at you in the kitchen. when the club owner forced everyone to get the fuck out of his establishment before he called the police, jey snatched you by your arm, pushing you into the car.

the whole ride home the both of you shouted at each other. name calling, you hitting the dashboard, him hitting the stirring wheel. the car felt like it was suffocating under the weight of all the things you both wanted to say but couldn’t find the right words for. instead? you choose to just say 'fuck you' over and over. his knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel tighter, while your voice cracked from the strain of yelling. the tension was so thick, even the air outside the car seemed to press in through the windows. by the time you pulled into the driveway, the silence that followed was deafening, a sharp contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. neither of you moved, both staring straight ahead, unwilling to be the first to speak or step out.

jey choose to sleep on the couch, giving you the option to sleep in the bedroom. this morning was no different than last night. neither one of you wanted to speak first. you were tired of arguing with him—tired of him especially. you were sick of the random ass insta tags from women, the dm's, getting sent live videos...it was too much. what was supposed to be growing together felt like growing apart.

you looked up over the counter to see jey still mean muggin' you, "stop fuckin' looking at me!" you finally snapped. call you childish, for starting a fight again, but he was the one doing this. not you.

"watch yo fuckin' voice hollerin' and shit at my ass. you was the one shakin' yo ass and shit in the club. all on instagram throwing shade at me, taking pictures of yo ass out. but im the damn problem. mane, get the fuck outta here with that," jey groaned rubbing his head in his hands

"so what? you can have bitches on your lap, but i dance on a nigga, and thats your problem? you're a fucking hypocrite! i hate your ass!" you instantly regretted that, not even just saying it. but thinking of it.

"i was pushing her off me! had yo ass looked you would've seen that shit! yo ass wasn't pushing ole boy off you. was you? yo ass wanted to get back at me so bad, you damn near was finna fuck him." the thought of you and the man was vivid in jey's mind. his eyes darkening all over.

"you're a fucking liar! you were letting her grind all in your lap! I seen it! what about a few weeks ago? the bitch from your job? asking you to autograph her panties?" you scoffed before looking away. the whole conversation was a dead end. it was getting no where. he was being a hypocrite and you only wanted your point to get across. but that was jey: never wanting to take accountability or listen to shit anybody else has to say.

"thats my fuckin' job! you know that shit!"

you threw your hands in the air, before walking into the bedroom. as you slammed the door behind you, your chest heaved with a mix of anger and frustration. you couldn’t wrap your head around how jey always managed to twist things, how he never took accountability for anything.

it felt like every fight ended the same—with you drained and him unfazed. you sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets as if they could anchor you to something solid. what stung more was the realization that he probably didn’t even care. it was like he lived in a world where he could do no wrong, and you were just a storm he had to wait out.

jey leaned back on the couch with a smug smirk creeping onto his face. he rubbed his jaw, shaking his head like the whole argument was nothing more than a joke, "always trippin’ over nothing," he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and scrolling aimlessly on instagram. in his mind, he wasn’t the problem—you were.

all he’d done was go out, and you couldn’t handle it. he did have a headache, but when he felt better, his cousin invited him to the club.

after a few drinks started making their rounds, so did the women. he did let the woman dance on him, and he did grab her hips to grind against her. but as soon as he remembered you—how you were waiting at home in nothing but a shirt and a pair of panties, probably fresh out of the shower smelling like vanilla—he pushed her off him. it was just dancing.

nothing more.

He chuckled low under his breath, his ego shielding him from any self-reflection. "man, she really be actin’ like I’m out here wildin’ for real," he said to no one in particular, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

to him, the whole fight was just another example of you being “dramatic.”

you’d come out of the room eventually, probably still mad, but Jey figured he’d smooth things over like he always did. after all, you weren’t going anywhere. at least, that’s what he told himself as he stretched out on the couch, arms behind his head, convinced he was untouchable.

the sound of the shower turning on caught his attention, the thought of you undressing, body soaked with water, instantly got him worked up. he immediately stood up, his body moving almost on its own accord. the temptation was too strong to resist. jey made his way to the bathroom door, listening intently to the sound of water hitting tile. he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

Was this crossing a line? you were still upset with him, after all. But the image of your wet skin, droplets and soap cascading down your curves, consumed his thoughts. he swallowed hard, desire overriding his better judgment. he wanted to make up to you the only way he knew how.

slowly, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. steam billowed out, enveloping him in its warm embrace. through the foggy glass of the shower door, he could make out your silhouette. his breath caught in his throat as he watched you run your hands through your hair, completely unaware of his presence. he began to undress himself, leaving his clothes in a small pile near yours. his hand grabbing his rock hard dick, beginning to stroke it to the sight of your body.

jey's heart raced as he silently slid open the shower door, stepping into the warm spray behind you. you tensed, startled by his sudden presence, but didn't turn around. he placed his hands gently on your hips, pressing his body against your back.

"i'm sorry," he murmured against your neck, his lips grazing your wet skin. "let me make it up to you, mama."

you remained still, conflicted. part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto your anger. but his touch sent shivers down your spine, awakening a familiar hunger.

jey's hands roamed up your sides, cupping your breasts as he kissed along your shoulder. a small gasp escaped your lips, betraying yourself. he smiled against your skin, knowing he was breaking through your defenses.

slowly, you turned to face him, water cascading down your front. your eyes stained red as tears flowed freely from them, "i love you, baby." he sighed before wrapping his arm under your thigh to push it against your chest, "you love me?"

you knew his question was a ploy to get you to break down. you feel for it every time. you nodded weakly, your resolve crumbling. "i love you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of water.

his signature smirk appeared on his face—he won. you weren't going anywhere. he kissed you deeply, passionately, as if trying to convey all his emotions through that single act. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, your body betraying your lingering anger.

you knew you should resist, should hold onto your anger, but your body responded to his touch instinct. jey's lips crashed into yours, passionate and hungry. you melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch despite your lingering hurt. his fingers dug into your thigh as he pressed you against the cool tile wall.

"show me," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "show me how much you love me, mama."

he positioned himself at your entrance, sliding his dick between your folds. your arousal leaking all over him, "its yo dick, mama. you all mines. y'hear me? ion want nobody else..." you whimpered as Jey teased you, your body trembling with need.

"fuck," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, "i need you so bad."

jey smirked, clearly pleased with your surrender. in one swift motion, he thrust into you with a grunt at the feelings of your pussy hugging him tightly, filling you completely. you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation, "that's right, mama. no one else can make you feel this good. yea?"

"look at you, taking my dick so well," he purred, his voice dripping with arrogance. "you can't stay mad at me when I'm fucking you like this, can you?"

you shook your head weakly, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. your anger melted away, replaced by a desperate need for more.

"tell me I'm the best you ever had," jey demanded, his ego swelling with every word, his voice low and dripping with arrogance as he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours like a challenge he knew he’d already won

as he began to move, setting a punishing rhythm, you lost yourself in the sensations. the steam, the heat of his body, the fullness of him inside you, was all so familiar. all of jey's apologies ended this way. you lowered your head into the crook of his neck as your mewls bounced off the glass walls. jey felt the sensation of tears on his shoulder, warm and damp against his skin. at first, he rolled his eyes, a slight smirk tugging at his lips again.

the more he moved, the less pain you felt—and soon you were taking him so well. his dick was coated in your slick, a ring of white started form around his base as he plunged in and out of your pussy.

you felt pathetic. here you were; screaming and yelling at jey for being so inconsiderate about your relationship, inappropriate with other women, swearing you were done with him...and now you're crying about letting him fuck you in the shower. his dick thrusting in and out of your pussy, and bouncing you on it.

right where you belonged.

"this all you needed right, mama? stop crying. tell me whatchu needed. you just wanted to get fucked, hm?" jey laughed breathlessly, pressing you deeper against the wall as his hips pounded into you, "gotta remind my girl she ain't leavin' me. only place she belongs is right here. fuck me back, baby."

jey placed small kisses on your cheeks, where your tears rolled down. you hated him for making you like this—complete putty in his hands. you knew he was ruining you for all others. but what could you say? no matter how many fights, you still loved him. everything with him just felt right. you couldn't picture it with anybody else.

he chuckled darkly, increasing his pace. "that's right, mama. you all mine. no matter how mad you get."

your pussy clenched around him. the only sound in the room was you pussy making obscene noises every time he stroked, "j-jey.." you sobbed out against his shoulder as jey hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

he was like an animal in your ear: grunting and growling as he pounded you with little regard.

"i-i hate you," you whimpered unconvincingly, your walls clenching around him.

Jey laughed, the sound rich and condescending. "no you don't, mama. you close? focus on cummin' baby. i love that shit."

each thrust puts stars in your vision. he’s splitting you open from behind with a steady, strong pace. your pussy clenches down on his cock and he curses under his breath at the feeling. he loved how you squeezed his length as quiet, pained mewls escaped your throat. your stomach dropped and your hips shuddered as he went deeper and deeper inside of you. your mouth opened on a loud string of sobs as you push your hips towards his. you felt your belly start to tighten as his strokes sped up.

"m-m-m gonna c-cummm," you let out a strangled cry as your orgasm flooded the both of you.

"shit! fuck, baby. you can take it. it's your dick" he growled as your pussy tightened from overstimulation. it made his eyes roll and stomach clench so hard that it hurts.

"you ha-have to pull, aw fuck! you have to pull out." you and jey always used some sort of protection. jey remembered, you mentioning how you forgot to renew your birth control pills. he finally found his way out of another one of your dramatic ass arguments. he was gonna make you a mommy, "w-we can't bring a baby into th—"

"shh, shh," he hushed your protest as his hips continued to rock into your pussy, his dick coated in a sheer layer of white slicking him up, "don't worry bout that, right now. just focus on cummin' again, baby. you so pretty when you do." his voice almost hypnotic

jey's thrusts grew even more forceful, your body bouncing against the slick tile with each powerful movement. He gripped your thighs tighter, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you in place.

you sniffled as you finally calmed down. your body still betraying you by leaking onto jey's dick. he pressed his lips to yours and groaned spilling rope after rope inside you with choking gasps. your over-sensitive, aching pussy twitches at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, sending another mini orgasm out of you. he kept his dick plugged inside of you, feeding you soft thrust, making sure all his cum was drained into you.

"you know I love you, right?" he let out a small chuckle, his tone dripping with amusement as he pressed soft kisses on your face—your eyes welling with tears again, "i told you it wasn't that deep. stop being so childish, ight? y'know you my baby. no other motherfucka but you."

you blinked, confused, a mix of frustration and guilt clouding your thoughts. he could see it in your eyes, how the doubt started to creep in. you opened your mouth to argue but found yourself hesitating. the way he framed it, the way he made you feel like the one in the wrong, made you question everything, "you're right...i'm sorry, jey. i really am."

"that's what i thought," jey murmured, his smile widening as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you like nothing had ever happened. his touch felt possessive, almost reassuring, but you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach.

you’d said it—apologized when it wasn’t even your fault—but his manipulation left you feeling small, but once again, it didn't bother you.

he kissed the top of your head, acting like everything was fine, like the argument had never happened. "you’re good, baby," he whispered, his voice smooth, convincing. "don’t let these little things mess with us. we're gonna start our own lil family soon. my baby's gonna have my baby."

his words made your pussy soak his dick again absentmindedly and tighten all over. your body betrayed you once again, your pussy clenching and fluttering around jey's softening cock still buried inside you. a rush of warmth flooded your core as you felt his seed seeping deeper, seeking out your womb with primal purpose. your inner walls rippled with aftershocks, milking every last drop from him as if desperate to be filled.

jey set this up...he flooded his cum into you and right now it was rushing towards your womb. you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the right time, and maybe, just maybe, jey wasn’t the right person. yet, it all still felt so perfect.

his voice was honey-sweet, dripping with false tenderness that you desperately wanted to believe. "yo body knows what it needs, even when that pretty lil head of yours get all mixed up with drama and being childish."

you nodded, your chest tight as you fought the overwhelming urge to pull away, to tell him the truth—that this wasn’t okay, that it shouldn’t be this way. but you didn’t. because the way he looked at you, so certain and calm, made you second guess yourself again.

yet, imagine the look on your face when you see two pink lines on a pregnancy test 3 weeks later and a DM of a video with another woman's lips on your mans in the back of the club. but of course, he was pushing her off...right?

right?

❦

don’t forget to follow and reblog! drop me a comment too, i love reading those. <3

tags:

@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @southerngirl41 @jaza23 @prettyfilmz @uceyliyahh @strxwberry-milku

merry christmas! 💘

[onehundredelevven]

Hello there, merry belated Christmas (if you celebrate)! I hope all is well ❤️ I have a request how about something angsty, but with a happy ending. This will be for JJK. Fem reader suspects her lover is cheating on them with their ex. this is due to the ex creating fake texts or doing something scandalous to set the men up to trick the reader. And the “evidence “ they provide is very convincing, unfortunately. The men have to find a way to win them back and prove their innocence. You can choose to do either a mini story or general head cannons, whichever is easier for you ☺️ as for which JJK male, you choose. But I do love Gojo, so please include him. Thanks so much! Take care ❤️❤️❤️

Hello Anon~ merry belated Christmas too ! Here's your request !!

JJK Men proving their faithfulness to you.

content: JJK Men x reader, hurt with comfort

☆☆☆

Satoru Gojo

☆When you confront him, Gojo initially laughs it off, thinking you're joking. But when he sees the hurt in your eyes, his expression turns serious.

☆“You think I would cheat on you? Baby, look at me. I could have anyone I want, and I chose you. What does that tell you?” It sounds cocky, but it’s his way of trying to reassure you.

☆The “evidence” hits him like a truck, especially when you mention it involves his ex. His playful demeanor drops completely.

☆He investigates obsessively, pulling every string he has. When he finds out his ex fabricated the texts, he makes sure they’ll regret ever messing with your relationship.

☆To prove his loyalty, he takes you somewhere significant—a quiet shrine at sunset where he confesses all his vulnerabilities. “I know I joke around a lot, but I don’t with you. You’re my everything, okay? Please don’t doubt that.”

---

Suguru Geto

☆When you confront Suguru, he’s calm but visibly pained by your accusation. “Do you really think I’d betray you like that?” he asks, his voice quiet but firm.

☆The fake messages shake him because they do look convincing. Still, he keeps his composure and promises, “I’ll clear this up, just trust me for now.”

☆Suguru digs into the situation like a detective, finding subtle inconsistencies in the texts and proving his ex’s deceit.

☆To win you back, he pens a heartfelt letter, explaining how much you mean to him and how he would never jeopardize what you have. He delivers it in person, sitting with you until you’re ready to forgive him.

---

Nanami Kento

☆Nanami takes your accusation with devastating seriousness. His brow furrows, and he listens carefully to everything you say. “If this is how you feel, I won’t dismiss it. But I need you to believe me when I say it’s not true.”

☆The texts from his ex make his jaw tighten. “That woman is trying to cause trouble. I’ll handle this.”

☆He wastes no time confronting his ex, collecting receipts, and presenting them to you methodically, like a courtroom defense.

☆Nanami shows his love through action. After clearing things up, he surprises you with a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. Over candlelight, he takes your hand and says, “I’ll never let anyone come between us again. You’re all I need.”

---

Toji Fushiguro

☆Toji laughs bitterly when you accuse him, but it’s not out of amusement—it’s disbelief. “You really think I’d go back to her?”

☆The fake evidence pisses him off. “That snake’s been causing problems for years. I should’ve known she’d try something like this.”

☆He tracks down his ex in record time, not mincing words or threats. Once he has proof of her lies, he drags himself back to you, guilt written all over his face.

☆“Look, I’m not good at this stuff, but you gotta know I wouldn’t mess this up. You’re too important to me.” He leaves the decision in your hands, but his sincerity is undeniable.

---

Ryomen Sukuna

☆Sukuna’s pride takes a hit when you accuse him. “You think I’d stoop so low as to sneak around? If I didn’t want you, I’d tell you to your face.”

☆He scoffs at the “evidence” at first, but when he realizes how much it’s shaken you, his expression hardens. “Whoever’s behind this is dead. Simple as that.”

☆He confronts his ex with terrifying intensity, uncovering the truth and making sure they won’t try anything like this again.

☆To prove his loyalty, Sukuna softens—just a little. He sits with you, looking you in the eye, and says, “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”

---

Choso Kamo

☆Choso’s reaction is pure heartbreak. “You… you think I’d do that to you?” His eyes well up, and his voice trembles as he tries to process your accusation.

☆The fabricated texts devastate him, but he refuses to let them ruin your relationship. “I’ll fix this. Please don’t give up on me.”

☆He works tirelessly to prove his innocence, eventually gathering enough evidence to expose his ex’s scheme.

☆Choso is a quiet but passionate lover. After everything is resolved, he holds you close, whispering, “I don’t want to lose you. You’re the only one I’ve ever cared for like this.”

---

Shiu Kong

☆Shiu’s sharp eyes narrow when you bring up the accusation. “You think I’d waste my time on an ex when I have you?” His tone is clipped, but you can tell the idea hurts him.

☆He examines the “evidence” like it’s a case file, immediately noticing details that don’t add up. “This is amateur work,” he mutters before setting out to expose the truth.

☆Once he clears his name, Shiu sits you down and pours you a glass of wine. “I’m not a saint, but I’d never cheat on you. You’re the only one who’s ever made me want to stay.”

---

Hiromi Higuruma

☆Hiromi listens patiently as you explain the situation, his expression unreadable. “I understand why you’re upset,” he says carefully. “But I promise you, I’m not lying.”

☆He meticulously analyzes the fake texts, his legal mind working overtime to find inconsistencies.

☆Hiromi confronts his ex with calm but firm resolve, collecting a confession and bringing it to you. “I’d never do something so cruel. I hope this proves that.”

☆To make amends, Hiromi takes you on a quiet date, away from the chaos, and reassures you with every word and gesture that his heart is yours alone.

[jjkbambi]

is it new years yet? luigi mangione x reader (18+)

summary!!! you run into ex-boyfriend!luigi mangione at a nye party! smut!

warnings: fratboy!luigi, darkfic (very much implied he slips something in ur drink), cnc?, long fic, mentions of calvin harris music, inspired by the fact that he had to nominate himself to win this category

the new year was meant to feel different.

yet, the doors at phi kappa psi open for you and a chances of anything more seems to slim. a record number of beer cans trashed in the hallway, the kitchen buried in chaos, and the overwhelming stench of beer clings to the air, impossible to ignore. you were surprised at how easily they’d let you enter—the bouncer was known for being a bit mean, strict on names and IDS and ages and sorority associations, yet one short smile was enough to get you and your best friend, lacy, into their annual new years eve party.

there wasn’t a second break from avicii or calvin harris, the crowd bouncing with red solo cups in hand. about a dozen of drinks were spilled on you already, and you were sure this was an indicator of a good night.

“is that him?” your friend’s nudge proves your prophecy wrong. your stomach drops immediately as you turn to the direction she was staring in—and yes, there he was, shirtless and six-packed on new year’s eve, surrounded by his pack of fraternity brothers.

the world suddenly feels so much smaller. you turn quickly. “lacy, he cannot see me.”

“have you spoken since the breakup?”

“if i had, id be in classier heels,” you retort, shaking your head.

you show her the reason you’ve been off your phone so much recently. about 34 days since you’ve seen each other in person, and a stunning 78 texts and 29 missed calls left in lieu of a breakup conversation. it honestly felt like too little an amount considering how long you’d been dating, but perhaps that was the least of your relationship problems, seeing as though you’d caught him making out with another girl at a football game.

she groans. “why’d we have to come to this house?”

“free entry? fireworks?” you come up with a lie that’ll make the both of you feel better. “i honestly don’t think we’ll run into each other. it’s such a big place.”

“he’s walking over here.”

“aaand we’re moving,” you sing, dragging her into the crowd of calvin harris enjoyers. for two hours, slipping in and out of the chaos seemed to be a surefire solution in avoiding your ex-boyfriend. that is, until you turn and suddenly your best friend isn’t there. you stiffen immediately, backing into the kitchen. in that step back, you bump shoulders.

“y/n,” an all too familiar voice says.

oh for fucks sake.

you smile tightly at the sight of luigi, trying not to make this already awkward situation more awkward. he looks different than he did the last time you’d seen him. his usually short hair had grown out longer, his beard more prominent. he looks… grown.

“hey!” you say, attempting to make a swift getaway. “happy new year, man!”

“get back here.” he grabs your wrist, pulling you right back to him. “what’re you doing?”

“it’s new years!”

“what are you doing here? wearing that?”

you smile, feigning innocence. “getting a re-fill!”

luigi’s eyes were dark and his grip firm. your air of innocence is almost completely defeated at his warmth, his body leaning into you, intent. “i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

no, you can’t do it. this was gonna be a new year for you. no setbacks, no cheating ex-boyfriends.

“i’m surprised you even noticed, with all your other distractions.”

luigi’s head tilts. “what does that mean?”

“you know what it means.” you pull away from him with as much force as possible. “seriously, lu, it’s over.”

“no, it’s not.” he argues. you shake your head as you walk away. “y/n, we’ve got to talk about this—“

“just leave me alone!” you leap out of the kitchen as soon as opportunity arrives, and pour the entirety of what’s left of your cup into your mouth. the wicked sting of alcohol had never been so relieving.

minutes pass but the sound of avicii is constant. phi kappa psi has promised fireworks and began to gather in the backyard and you want nothing more than to join in on the party—but lacy. your best friend. you need to find her. the recovery mission begins with a stumble down the hallway and a headache. it’s more than a headache, it all of a sudden feels like you reallyreallyreally need to take a nap.

“hey, hey, i’ve got you,” it’s luigi again. you can tell by his warmth and his scent and the way he grabs your hand. “where are you going?”

“lacy.”

he takes the drink out of your hand, then lifts your arms to wrap them around his neck. and suddenly, the warmth of his body isn’t so intimidating anymore. “that’s not my name.”

“i know.”

he leans in closer. “come on then, what’s my name?”

“lu,” you murmur. “i need to go.”

“you’re not going anywhere.” luigi promises you.

within a second, his lips are on yours, and suddenly his warmth is everywhere. you whimper into the kiss, trying to spell out protest but you’re too weak. “relax for me,” he tells you.

you were entirely too relaxed. any reasonable part of you wouldn’t allow for him to be this close. but before you can stop him, his hands slide down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you. he’s so hard.

“i love this dress on you,” he murmurs.

desperate, you try to push, “no, no, we need to find—”

“we’re taking care of her, too, baby, don’t worry.”

you squirmed underneath his touch, which only made the friction hotter. “what?”

he doesn’t care to tell you anything more grinding into your resistance mercilessly as his hands clamp around your hips, rocking your body back and forth on his thigh.

“you’ve got some fuckin’ nerve, you know,” he grumbles into the kiss, his voice so low and gravelly, you felt its deep tenor roll down your spine and settle in your core. every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasp when he goes to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck. “walking around my house dressed like a fuckin’ slut. got me all worked up in front of everyone.”

you despise the helplessness that washes over you as he holds you down. tears sting at your eyes as you beg, “lu, stop.”

“pull your dress up,” he orders, drinking in your scent. his scruff scratches your skin.

“no.” you shake your head again, though his kisses are persistent. “luigi, we can’t.“

“you’re right,” luigi agrees, chuckling into another kiss. “i’m not fuckin’ sharing you.”

his lips don’t leave yours—theyre all over your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your tits—as he carries you into the nearest room, and you’re too lost in the moment to notice whether it’s his own. your dress hits the floor and his hands are all over your nude. the mix of confusion and pleasure leaves you breathless. before you can process it, you’re on the bed with your ex-boyfriend on top of you.

“you know how many other guys were looking at you tonight?” he growls as he flips you over. “swear ill fucking kill them”

he was so big and your body was so unprepared that you’d screamed, which only made luigi laugh. a choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time.

“fuckin’ knew it,” lu groans. your teeth sink into your lips as you tremble underneath him, his hard length relentless in its assault. “knew you’d take it f’me like this, yeah? like a good fuckin’ girl.”

the bed shook beneath you as he pounded into you. he goes to bite your neck, his curls tickling your skin. he feels so good, but the weight of how wrong it is lingers in every touch. “lu,” you moan.

“what?” he says, smug. “what d’ya wanna say?”

“it hurts,” you whine.

”i don’t care,” luigi says in your ear, grinding his cock into the depths of your cunt until you were whimpering beneath him. “you know how fuckin’ long it’s been since ive had you? no, you’ve got no clue. drove myself crazy thinking i’d never have this pretty pussy again.”

“it’s your fault—“

“shut the fuck up.” his hand comes down hard on your ass and a whimper slips from your lips. he growls low, feeling how tight you’re holding him. “you’re mine,” he grunts. “don’t you ever forget that.”

“luigi, wait,” you moan, your mind going blank. it’s too much—wrong in every way, yet too good to resist.

you feel him smirk against your neck. despite yourself, you felt your cunt clench hard around his stiff length as a flood gushes from your trembling core. he chuckles darkly, mocking your resistance. “can’t take it? too much?”

“lu, please.” your voice was embarrassingly breathless. he goes faster, which felt entirely impossible.

he must’ve heard the plea this time, because he doubled his efforts. he picked up the pace of his thrusts, fucking you hard and fast, spanking your ass mercilessly while his other hand went to massage your clit. you could hardly breathe.

“so good,” he groans. “be a good girl and cum for me, princess. all over me, come on.”

“please,” you whimper again. you’re not sure what you’re asking for, but it hardly mattered. the most devastating orgasm of your life was building deep within you, an unstoppable force growing stronger with every moment—and you were desperate to chase it.

“you’re all fucking mine,” he laments. “i wanna hear you say it.”

you couldn’t possibly. your mind goes blank as he ruts into you, pounding into your cunt and ass so hard that the clapping of his hips against your skin was filling the room and almost drowning out the sound of the new year celebration.

“tell me what i wanna hear.” he demands.

“yours,” you mewl.

“good girl.” he bit out, his mouth brushing against your cheek, his stubble rasping against your skin and making you shiver. he fucks you harder, faster, slamming into your slick cunt like he was trying to leave a mark inside you.

you couldn’t take it anymore. your pride snaps inside you and you felt liquid gush between your thighs, coating his massive cock in your cunt. pleasure consumes you until all you knew was the sensation of ecstasy drowning out everything else. he groans at the sight of your orgasm, his cock still driving into you, his thrusts turning wild and desperate as he growled in your ear.

luigi grumbled a soft, “fuck,” and then pressed deep, burying his cock deep into your still pulsing cunt as he came. he let out a long moan, his cock twitching against your inner walls while he emptied his balls into your pussy, the warmth of his cum filling you up.

“i’m so glad you came around, so glad,” he murmurs, turning you over to kiss you over and over and over again. “i love you, baby, you know that, right?”

the day after

[quirekey]

Hello can you make a headcannon with Orion and d-16 with a femme mining bot who has over controlling guardians? Not letting her go out too much and only for work. This means no boys either. Would they sneak her out? Sneak in? How would they’re relationships be?:3

EHEHE I love this concept, her parental figures being controlling and stuff is such a fun one

[ ORION PAX ] x [ D16 ] x [ FEMME!READER ]

[ orion pax x d16 x cybertronian!femme!reader ]

HEADCANONS

- You, D16 and Orion were really close, like to the point where ‘kissing the homies’ seemed romantic between the 3 of you. You guys hung out a lot when you were on break, just chatting and joking around. You guys were like friends with romantic strings attached, afraid that a relationship may cause some problems with their jobs.

- Your guardian (or father) was a high-guard, so he knew where you were and what you were doing quite often. He was extremely strict and he always said it was to ‘protect’ you. He never let you add anything to your schedule, never brought you so those fun celebrations and most of all, did not allow mech-friends. Though you understood, there weren't many femmes and also you loved Orion and D16, so you weren’t gonna leave them.

- When your guardian found out about your ‘friendship’ with Orion and D16, he was absolutely furious. The moment he saw you hanging out with the 2 was the reason why you sometimes have to do double-time in the mines.

- You don’t usually stand up to your guardian, he can literally offline you and there will be absolutely no consequences, so you prefer to just go with it. You do rebel every so often though, ringing your audio receptors out or just dismissing his lectures.

- D16 is pissed at your guardian. All he wanted to do is hang out with you. He understood where your guardian was coming from because of the harsh job his daughter had. He has many urges to talk to your guardian, but he’s too afraid to. He wanted to get along with him, not confront him.

- Orion Pax does try to talk to father quite often. Orion says that he will ‘confront’ your father then casually has a fight with him a klick (minute) later. You and D16 just watch Orion Pax get his life beaten out of him. Luckily your guardian doesn’t go that far and just gives him ‘a few soft punches’.

- D16 and Orion do have each other when you're gone. Though they are able to cope whenever you're gone, not having you is literally like an incomplete sandwich. It’s sad and it just doesn’t feel right, you need all of the ingredients or it will taste wrong. They both talk about you quite often when you are gone too.

- Sometimes D16 forces both himself and Orion to come with you when you have double shifts to accompany you. You are extremely grateful for their presence. Somehow your guardian doesn’t find out, I guess he’s a busy high-guard?

[jburrgf]

About You II — The Love Trope Series

“Do you think I have forgotten about you?”

◦pairing: ¡lsu! joe burrow x ¡ex situashionship! reader

◦summary: second change trope, college relationships, slow burn love, right person wrong time.

◦description: after the dinner at Malone’s, your best friend and you go to the biggest party of the year, and there, you find out why you can’t forget Joe — at all.

◦playlist: About You - The 1975, Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Golding, Like Real People Do - Hoozier, I Bet You Think About Me - Taylor Swift, Called You Again - Lizzy McAlpine, Tolerate It, ImGonnaGetYouBack, Clean - Taylor Swift

PART TWO: FRIENDS

Joe and I didn’t happen overnight.

It was a slow burn, full of late-night conversations, stolen glances, and an undeniable pull neither of us could explain. He was juggling the pressures of being a star quarterback with the weight of expectations I couldn’t fully understand, and I was caught between wanting to be a part of his world and keeping my own identity intact.

We weren’t perfect. We fought. We drifted. We came back together, only to drift apart again. And then, just before graduation, Joe started pulling away for good.

I didn’t chase him.

And that was the end of it.

Or so I thought.

The faint hum of music and muffled voices filtered through the walls of our shared dorm as I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the pile of clothes Maddie had dumped on me earlier. A crop top, a leather skirt, and heeled boots that looked like they belonged on a runway rather than at a party in a dingy warehouse.

Maddie was pacing, a hair curler in one hand and a bottle of glittery body spray in the other, a force of nature in her pre-party ritual. She was dressed to perfection already, wearing a sequined halter top and ripped jeans that made her legs look a mile long.

The mirror in Maddie’s dorm room was barely big enough for one person, but tonight, we were making it work. Her makeup brushes, palettes, and lip glosses were spread across the desk like an arsenal, the tiny lamp casting a warm glow on the chaos.

“Y/N, come on,” Maddie groaned, holding up two options—a cropped black sequin top and a deep green halter. “Which one says, ‘I’m here to have fun but also break hearts’?”

I glanced up, her mind still clouded, offering a weak smile. “The green one, I guess.”

Maddie frowned, dropping the tops onto her bed and placing her hands on her hips. “Okay, what’s going on with you? This is the biggest party of the year, and you’re sitting there like we’re about to go to a funeral.”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Just tired.”

Truthfully, exhaustion wasn’t the problem. My chest felt heavy in a way I couldn’t explain—like I was carrying the weight of something I didn’t have the courage to admit. Joe. His name felt like a forbidden word, a ghost haunting the edges of my thoughts as Maddie flitted around the room, oblivious.

“Liar,” Maddie shot back, narrowing her eyes as she crossed the room to sit beside Y/N. “You’ve been weird all weekend. Let me guess…” She tilted her head, a knowing smirk spreading across her lips. “This is about him, isn’t it?”

The mention of his name made my stomach flip, but I kept my face carefully neutral. “This has nothing to do with him.”

“Bullshit,” Maddie said, nudging her shoulder. “I know you, Y/N. You’ve been moping around ever since Malone’s friday. Did something happen with Joe that you’re not telling me?” she said, rolling her eyes. “Look, I know he’s... complicated. But tonight isn’t about him. It’s about you having fun. Forget about the past. It’s just one party.”

“Exactly. Just one party,” I said, grabbing the crop top she’d picked for me and holding it up with skepticism. “And I’m not even sure I want to go.”

Maddie marched over, snatched the shirt from my hands, and tossed it on the bed. “Oh, you’re going. Whether I have to drag you kicking and screaming or not.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to enjoy myself, but something in me felt heavy, like an anchor tied around my chest. Maddie didn’t need to know how often my mind drifted to Joe—how his face had been etched into my thoughts since that night at Malone’s, how his stupid note was still folded in my desk drawer.

“Y/N,” Maddie said, her voice softening as she sat beside me. “I know you miss him.”

I blinked, startled. “I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to,” she said, nudging me with her shoulder. “But trust me, wallowing isn’t going to help. You need to let loose, have a drink, and dance with someone who’s *not* Joe Burrow.”

I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It *is* easy,”

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my jeans. “It’s… nothing happened. It’s just—ugh, I don’t even know, Maddie. I don’t want to talk about him.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Instead, she stood, grabbed Y/N’s hands, and pulled her to her feet. “Okay, fine. No more Joe talk. But I’m not letting you go to this party looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

“You know i’m not thrilled about frat parties.” I said

“This isn’t just any frat party,” Maddie corrected, grabbing a curling iron and plugging it in. “It’s in the Kappa alumni barn. Do you know how hard it is to get invited to this? People are literally selling wristbands for $50 just to get in. We are *elite,* babe.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered under my breath.

”Come on, I’m going to pick out the perfect dress for you.” She threw open her closet, rifling through the racks of clothes like a woman on a mission. “We need something that says ‘I’m hot, but I don’t care if you notice.’”

“I was just going to wear jeans,” I offered weakly.

Maddie spun around, her expression scandalized. “Jeans? To this party? Y/N, we’re not freshmen anymore. This is senior year. Go big or go home.”

Before I could argue, she pulled out a sleek black dress with a subtle shimmer. It was simple, but the cut was flattering, and the fabric looked soft enough to melt into.

“This,” Maddie declared, holding it up like it was the Holy Grail.

I hesitated, glancing at my reflection. “I don’t know...”

“Trust me,” Maddie said, shoving the dress into my hands. “You’ll look amazing.”

With a reluctant sigh, I headed to the bathroom to change. The dress clung to my figure in all the right places, and when I stepped back into the bedroom, Maddie let out a low whistle.

“Y/N! You look... Wow. Just wow. Girl, if Joe doesn’t come crawling back to you after tonight, he’s an idiot.”

I finally turned to face my reflection, and to my surprise, I didn’t hate it. The dress hugged my figure in all the right places, and for the first time in weeks, I felt like maybe I could blend in tonight.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my llips. “It’s not about Joe.”

“Sure, it’s not,” Maddie teased, returning to the mirror to finish her makeup. “Now, sit down. I’m doing your hair and makeup.”

As Maddie curled my hair, the mood in the room shifted slightly. The music softened, and for a moment, it felt like the old days—just us two, laughing and talking about nothing.

“Listen,” Maddie said, her tone gentler now. “I know you’re going through it, but you deserve to have fun tonight. Forget about him, or at least try to. This party is going to be amazing. Everyone’s been talking about it for weeks. The lights, the DJ, the whole vibe—it’s gonna be insane.”

I nodded, her chest tightening. Maddie was right. I needed to let go, even if just for one night. “You’re right. Let’s do this.”

Maddie grinned, placing the final curl in my hair and fluffing it out with her fingers. “Now that’s the spirit. Look at us—two bad bitches, ready to take on the world.”

I laughed, feeling a flicker of excitement for the first time that night. Maybe this party wouldn’t be so bad after all. Maybe I could forget about Joe, even if just for a few hours. Maddie got all the makeup things right in front of us, and started to do my makeup.

Hold still!” Maddie ordered, her hand steady as she worked on my eyeliner.

“I am holding still,” I mumbled, trying not to blink.

“You keep flinching every time I get close. Do you not trust me?” she teased, stepping back to inspect her work. “Did you know they rented an actual DJ for tonight? And there’s going to be this crazy light show. Plus, rumor has it the football team’s throwing in a ton of money for drinks and food. This is basically LSU’s version of Coachella.”

I hummed noncommittally, watching her in the mirror as she worked. Her excitement was contagious, even if I wasn’t quite ready to feel it yet.

“Y/N,” Maddie said after a moment, her tone more serious. “Promise me you’ll try to have fun tonight. For real.”

I met her gaze in the mirror and nodded. “I’ll try.”

She smiled, satisfied. “Good. Now, glitter or no glitter?”

“No glitter,” I said immediately.

Maddie rolled her eyes but relented, finishing my makeup with a swipe of lip gloss.

Maddie, of course, looked flawless in her emerald green romper and heels, her hair styled in loose waves that framed her face. She had a way of commanding attention without even trying, and tonight was no exception.

“You’re stunning,” I said honestly.

“So are you,” she replied, grabbing her phone to snap a picture of us. “Okay, let’s take a pre-party selfie. Smile!”

I forced a grin, but even as the camera clicked, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“You’re thinking too much,” Maddie said, catching my expression.

“I’m not,” I lied.

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her purse. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before you change your mind.”

By the time we were both ready, the campus was already buzzing with energy. The party was being held in an old warehouse on the edge of campus, the kind of space that was only used for events like this—loud, chaotic, and slightly dangerous.

As we stepped outside, the cool evening air hit my skin, and for the first time all day, I felt a flicker of anticipation. Maddie looped her arm through mine, grinning.

“Trust me, Y/N,” she said as we made our way toward the warehouse. “Tonight’s going to be unforgettable.”

The walk to the party was electric. The campus buzzed with excitement, groups of students streaming toward the barn like moths to a flame. Maddie chatted nonstop, filling the silence with stories and jokes that I barely registered.

But as we approached the barn, the music growing louder with each step, I couldn’t ignore the way my heart began to race. Part of me hoped Joe wouldn’t be there.

And another part of me—a part I hated—hoped he would.

I caved, mostly because Maddie was impossible to argue with, and by the time we arrived at the warehouse, I was already questioning my decision. The music was loud, the drinks were cheap, and the place was packed with bodies moving to a beat I couldn’t place.

It was an underground-style party. Everyone was wearing colorful, fluorescent paints, and the music had heavy beats. It was a fraternity party, but it wasn't at a house. Everything took place in a warehouse, surrounded by a parking lot that was already full when we arrived.

“Loosen up,” Maddie said when we got out of her car and were walking through the parking lot, heading to the party entrance. My friend showed something on her phone to someone, and we went in.

She dragged me toward the makeshift bar. “Come on, Y/N, I know why you're like this. But remember, we have to have fun, right?” she said, shaking my shoulders from side to side as electronic music played.

I rolled my eyes, letting out a small smile because the beat of the music was really contagious.

“Alright, but I’m not going to drink much!”

“I love you!” And that was what Maddie said before dragging me to the fraternity's makeshift bar, preparing something for me to drink.

I downed a few shots, one after the other, laughing and speaking loudly as people came over to greet us. I danced to a few songs with Maddie, swaying from side to side.I felt the urge to go to the bathroom, so I asked her to wait for me close to the bar. I started walking, looking for something like a bathroom, being careful not to open doors to already occupied rooms.

I found an empty bathroom at the beginning of one of the hallways. I fixed my makeup, washed my hands, and got ready to leave. I closed the door behind me, starting to walk down the hallway.

When I returned to the party, the music was louder, and people were dancing more. By that time of the night, the bar was even more crowded than usual, signaling that the party had reached its peak.

I tried to. I really did. But I wasn’t a natural at these things, and it wasn’t until I stepped outside onto the quieter patio that I felt like I could breathe again. I walked out of the warehouse, exiting through makeshift tarp doors. Outside, in the back, there was an Olympic-sized pool, illuminated and filled with inflatable balls.

The air outside was cool against my flushed skin, the sounds of the party muffled behind the thick metal doors of the warehouse-turned-dancefloor. I leaned against the railing near the Olympic-sized pool, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself.

The stillness of the pool was a welcome contrast to the pulsing energy inside. Its surface reflected the night sky, fractured by the faint ripples of the water, and for a brief moment, I felt at peace.

“Finally found you!” Maddie shouted from afar, stepping out of the warehouse with a red cup in hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… it just got way too crowded all of a sudden.”

“Yep, it’s about time for us to head out.” She patted my back, as if she knew me well enough to understand exactly how I was feeling.

The bass of the music hit me like a wave as soon as I stepped through the doors, the lights swirling in hypnotic patterns that danced across the crowd. The air was thick with heat and the mingling scents of sweat and cologne, and I almost turned back around.

I tugged at the hem of my dress, suddenly feeling too exposed in the sea of intoxicated strangers. Maddie was nowhere to be seen— I lost her when I got back inside. I should’ve texted her to meet me outside, but I didn't want to ruin her night.

The overhead lights twisted and flickered in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting long shadows that danced across the packed room. People swayed and spun to the beat of a song I didn’t recognize, the energy electric and wild.

And then it happened.

The opening chords of Innerbloom by RÜFÜS DU SOL floated through the speakers, and it was like the entire atmosphere shifted. The crowd slowed, their movements taking on a dreamlike quality as the tempo of the song washed over the room.

That’s when I saw him.

Joe.

He was standing near the edge of the dancefloor, just beyond the reach of the flashing lights. His blond hair caught the faint glow of the strobe, his tall frame relaxed yet commanding as he talked to someone I didn’t recognize. But it wasn’t the way he stood or the casual confidence in his posture that froze me in place. It was his eyes.

Because, as if sensing me, he looked up—and our eyes met.

Everything else faded.

For a second, I thought I was imagining it.

It was instant, like a magnetic pull I couldn’t fight even if I wanted to. The room, the music, the crowd—all of it faded away. All I could focus on was him.

Why does it always feel like this?

The way he looked at me was almost unbearable—like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as I had dreaded it. His gaze was steady, unflinching, and for a second, I thought he might come toward me.

But he didn’t move. Neither did I.

My breath caught in my throat. We just stared at each other, the space between us suddenly feeling both infinite and too small.

I wanted to run. I wanted to stay.

The flicker of the lights seemed to sync with the thrum of my heartbeat as he started walking toward me. Everything was in slow motion—the sway of his body, the way his hands slid casually into the pockets of his jeans, the way his jaw tightened when our eyes locked again.

The music, the crowd, the swirling lights—it all blurred into the background, like the universe itself had tilted to make room for this one moment.

*If you want me, if you need me... I'm yours.*

The words felt like a taunt, an echo of everything I hadn’t allowed myself to admit.

Joe’s gaze held mine, steady and unyielding, as though he could see every thought racing through my mind. His expression was unreadable—calm, almost curious—but his eyes told a different story. They were searching, pulling me in, and suddenly the space between us felt both infinite and far too small.

I couldn’t move. My feet were rooted to the ground, my pulse hammering in my ears as the world seemed to slow to a crawl.

He took a step forward.

The lights shifted, casting his face in shadow, and for a second, I thought I might faint. My breath hitched, and I gripped the edge of a nearby table to steady myself.

Another step.

The crowd parted like water around him, the sea of bodies moving in rhythm with the music but leaving him untouched. It felt unreal, like a scene from a movie, the kind you tell yourself could never happen in real life.

But it was happening.

And then he was in front of me.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low, almost lost in the swell of the music. But I heard it. God, I felt it.

“Joe.” My voice came out softer than I intended, almost shaky.

Neither of us said anything for a moment. The room seemed to spin around us, the world a blur of light and sound, but we were still. Anchored.

“You came,” he finally said, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile.

“You called.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying me in that way he always did, like he could see straight through every wall I’d put up. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

Why did he have to be here? Why did he have to look at me like that? Like he was still holding onto something I’d been trying so hard to let go of.

The muffled beat of the music reached me even out here, but it was quieter now, easier to ignore. I closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the image of Joe—his face, his voice, the way he said my name. It lingered like a ghost, refusing to let me be.

“Neither was I,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.

Another beat of silence passed, heavy and charged. His gaze flickered down to my lips for a fraction of a second, and my stomach flipped.

The song swelled, the lyrics a haunting echo in the background: If you want me, if you need me, I’m yours

The silence stretched between us, filled only by the song and the pounding of my heart. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. All I could do was look at him, and all he could do was look at me, like we were the only two people in the room.

Something flickered in his eyes—relief, maybe, or something deeper. He stepped closer, and I felt the warmth of him, the faint scent of his cologne mixing with the humid air of the warehouse.

The words hung between us, heavy and unspoken truths laced beneath them. I wanted to ask him why he cared, why he’d left that note, why he was standing here now, looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered. But I couldn’t.

The music swelled, the lyrics wrapping around us like a cocoon.

“I’m glad you did.”

The words hung between us, heavy and unspoken truths laced beneath them. I wanted to ask him why he cared, why he’d left that note, why he was standing here now, looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered. But I couldn’t.

The music swelled, the lyrics wrapping around us like a cocoon.

It felt like the universe was holding its breath, waiting for one of us to make the next move.

And then, without thinking, I took a step closer.

“Joe,” I said again, my voice steadier this time.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely a whisper now, lost beneath the music but somehow still clear as day.

For a moment, neither of us moved, the world narrowing down to just us.

And then someone bumped into me, breaking the spell. I stumbled, and Joe’s hand shot out, steadying me with an ease that made my stomach flip.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

I nodded, my cheeks flushing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But I wasn’t fine. Not even close. Because standing this close to him, feeling his hand on my arm, hearing the way he said my name—it was all too much.

And yet, I didn’t want it to end.

He held out his hand. “I…”

“I can’t do this, Joe. I have to go,” I said, finally creating some distance between us. I walked out of the warehouse, but I knew he was following me.

“CAN YOU STOP?”

He froze, started, coming to an abrupt halt behind me. Even in the dark, I could tell he was looking at me with shock. I could see the way he looked at me, and it made me feel nauseous. Not because I didn’t like it, but because I missed it. God, I missed it so much.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, and I could feel the honesty in his voice eating away at me.

“You haven’t talked to me in months, and I’m not going to let you do to me what you’ve done before,” I said, stepping further away. “You forgot about me, Joe. Completely. You pushed me away, and now, I don’t want to come back. Just… stay away.”

Maddie came running after Joe soon after. With a confused expression, she purposely bumped into his shoulder as she walked past him toward me.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” my friend said, still shooting side-eyes at Joe, who stood there frozen. “Leave her alone, Joe. She doesn’t need you anymore.”

Maddie grabbed my hand and started walking with me through the parking lot. I got into the passenger seat, still dazed. It had been almost seven months, and that was the first time he had spoken to me.

When I looked in the rearview mirror, he was still standing there, in the middle of the street.

I knew I would see him again. I just didn’t want to believe it.

[scoupsakakitty]

More 14th member please angst too pleasee HAHAHA

Unspoken Tears | idol!Svt x idol!14thmember x idol!Mingi | angst, drama

The dorm was unusually quiet that night. Seventeens youngest member, Y/N, sat curled up in her room, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. She bit her lip, fighting the sobs that threatened to escape. The voices of her older brothers—her Seventeen members—echoed faintly through the walls. They were in the living room, playing games, laughing, and teasing each other like always.

But tonight, she couldn’t bring herself to join them.

For weeks now, she had felt the shift within herself. Her once bright and cheerful personality had dimmed, replaced by an unfamiliar heaviness in her chest. She tried to hide it, to smile and pretend that nothing was wrong.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried, the pain lingered.

She thought she had been prepared. She thought ending things with Mingi had been the right decision. Their relationship had started in secret, pushed by their management teams for publicity, but it had quickly turned real. Too real.

And now, it was over.

Her heart clenched painfully at the thought of seeing him tomorrow at the MAMAs. Would he look at her the same way? Would he pretend that nothing had happened between them? Or worse—would he look at her with regret?

A sudden knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Y/N? You awake?” It was Joshua’s voice, gentle and filled with concern.

Y/N quickly wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. “Y-Yeah. What’s up?”

There was a pause before the door creaked open. Joshua stepped in first, followed closely by Jeonghan and Woozi. Their expressions softened the moment they saw her puffy eyes and trembling lips.

“Y/N…” Jeonghan murmured, closing the door behind him.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, plastering a fake smile on her face. “Really, I—”

“Don’t,” Woozi interrupted, his voice firm but caring. “Don’t say you’re fine when you’re clearly not.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, and Joshua sat down beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Talk to us,” he said softly. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

For a moment, Y/N hesitated. She didn’t want to burden them with her problems. They already had so much on their plates with rehearsals and schedules. But as Jeonghan sat down on her other side, offering her a tissue, the dam broke.

Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, “It’s Mingi…”

Joshua and Woozi exchanged glances, while Jeonghan squeezed her hand.

“The rumors,” Woozi said carefully. “Are they true?”

Y/N nodded slowly. “They were. But we’re not together anymore.” Her voice cracked. “We broke up.”

Jeonghan frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. “Did he hurt you? Did he—”

“No! It wasn’t like that,” Y/N interrupted quickly. “It’s just… we couldn’t make it work. We were both so busy, and we barely saw each other. It felt like we were always chasing each other but never catching up.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with emotion.

Joshua sighed. “That must’ve been really hard on you.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands. “I still love him. And tomorrow—I don’t know how I’m supposed to face him.”

Without hesitation, Jeonghan reached out and pulled her into a hug.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, gently rubbing her back as she sobbed into his chest. “Let it out. We’re here.”

Woozi and Joshua exchanged another glance, silently agreeing on what needed to be done.

“Stay with her,” Woozi said softly, giving Jeonghan a nod. “We’ll go let the others know what’s going on.”

Joshua stood up and placed a reassuring hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder before following Woozi out of the room, leaving the two alone.

———————————————————————————-

Joshua and Woozi stepped out of Y/N’s room, closing the door gently behind them. The two exchanged silent glances, each of them still processing what had just unfolded.

As they walked back into the living room, the rest of the members immediately turned toward them. The cheerful vibe from earlier had completely shifted to tense curiosity.

Seungkwan was the first to speak. “Well? What’s going on?”

“Is she okay?” asked Mingyu, standing up as if ready to barge into her room.

“What happened?” Hoshi added, pacing nervously.

Joshua held up his hands to calm them. “Sit down. All of you.”

There was a shuffle as everyone quickly gathered, their eyes locked onto the two.

“Y/N…” Woozi started, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s going through a breakup.”

“A breakup?” Vernon repeated, eyebrows furrowed. “With who?”

Joshua hesitated. “Mingi.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

“What?!” Seungkwan practically yelled, breaking the stillness.

“You mean the Mingi from Ateez? That Mingi?!” DK looked genuinely shocked.

“How did we not know about this?” Dino asked, his voice quieter but equally concerned.

“They were keeping it private,” Woozi explained. “It wasn’t supposed to get out, but… yeah, it’s true.”

“And it’s over now,” Joshua added softly.

Mingyu shot up from his seat. “Wait, wait, wait. Did he do something to her? Did he hurt her?”

“No!” Woozi quickly clarified. “It wasn’t like that. She said they just… couldn’t make it work because of their schedules. But she still loves him.”

“That’s why she’s been so off lately,” Wonwoo said, his voice calm but heavy. “I should’ve noticed.”

Jun, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke. “I knew something was wrong. She hasn’t been herself for weeks.”

“Why didn’t she tell us?” Minghao muttered, clearly frustrated.

“Because she didn’t want to burden us,” Joshua said.

“Burden us?” Mingyu scoffed. “We’re her family! We’re supposed to protect her, and we didn’t even see it happening.”

“Calm down,” Seungcheol said firmly, though his own voice carried a slight edge. “We can’t change the past. What matters is that we’re here for her now.”

The room fell quiet again as the weight of the situation settled over them.

Hoshi finally broke the silence. “So… what do we do now?”

“We support her,” Woozi said simply. “Tomorrow’s going to be tough for her, especially seeing him at the MAMAs. We make sure she knows she’s not alone.”

Before anyone else could speak, the door to Y/N’s room opened, and Jeonghan stepped out quietly. The lighthearted moment faded as they all turned to look at him.

“She’s asleep,” he said softly, his voice calm but tired. “I stayed with her until she calmed down.”

The group relaxed slightly at his words, but their concern lingered.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol said, giving him a small nod.

Jeonghan offered a faint smile. “She’s hurting, but she’ll be okay. We just need to be there for her tomorrow.”

Everyone nodded, determination replacing the earlier panic.

———————————————————————————-

The arena buzzed with excitement as idols and fans filled the space. Seventeen sat at their designated table, cameras constantly flashing toward them.

Y/N’s nerves were on edge. Despite the support from her members the night before, her chest tightened every time she glanced at the Ateez table.

“Hey,” Seungkwan said, nudging her lightly. “Don’t think about it too much. Focus on us, okay? We’re going to kill it out there.”

Y/N smiled weakly. “Okay.”

But the moment Ateez took the stage, her resolve crumbled. Mingi’s presence was magnetic, and despite the distance, their eyes met for the briefest moment. It was enough to stir all the feelings she had tried so hard to bury.

Mingyu, noticing her distress, leaned in. “You good?”

Y/N swallowed hard and nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. Reaching out, he held her hand under the table, offering silent comfort.

——————��————————————————————-

When the performances ended, the groups began mingling. Y/N tried to stay close to her members, but it didn’t take long for Mingi to approach her.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice almost drowned out by the noise around them.

Immediately, Jeonghan and Mingyu stepped closer, their protective auras flaring up.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, stopping them. “I’ll be fine.”

Slowly, they backed off but stayed within earshot.

Mingi’s eyes were filled with regret as he led her to a quieter corner. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but I didn’t know how.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her defenses already crumbling. “What is there to talk about? It’s over, Mingi.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring about you.”

Her breath hitched. “Then why did we let it end?”

“Because we didn’t have a choice,” he said bitterly. “You know how it is in this industry. We’re always busy, always under pressure.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again. “I hate this. I hate that we had to choose our careers over each other.”

Mingi stepped closer, his hands trembling. “I hate it too.”

“Do you still…” Y/N couldn’t finish the question.

“I do,” Mingi said without hesitation. “But I don’t know how to fix this.”

She looked down, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “Neither do I.”

From a distance, the Seventeen members watched closely, ready to intervene if needed. But as Y/N and Mingi continued talking, their tense postures softened.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of everything unsaid hung heavy between them.

“I’m sorry,” Mingi finally said. His eyes searched hers, desperate for understanding. “For everything. For how things ended. For not being there when you needed me.”

Y/N blinked back tears. “You don’t have to apologize. It wasn’t your fault, Mingi. We both knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“I know, but—” He cut himself off, clenching his jaw. “I hate how it happened. I hate that we let it fall apart.”

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced herself to stay strong. “I do too. But we tried, didn’t we? We gave it everything we had.”

“And it still wasn’t enough,” he muttered bitterly, looking away.

Y/N stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “No, it wasn’t. But maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

He turned back to her, confusion in his eyes.

“We needed more time,” she said, her voice steadier now. “More time for ourselves, for our careers. We were so caught up in trying to make it work that we didn’t realize we were hurting ourselves in the process.”

Mingi’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a long sigh. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” She took a deep breath, her fingers trembling as she dropped her hand from his arm. “I think we should let this go—for now.”

“For now?” he repeated, his eyes searching hers.

Y/N nodded, her throat tightening. “Not forever. Just until we’re both ready. Until we can give each other what we deserve without feeling like we’re choosing between us and our careers.”

Mingi’s eyes softened as the weight of her words sank in. “You really think we’ll get another chance?”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “I don’t know. But I want to believe that if it’s meant to be, we’ll find our way back to each other.”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he reached out to cup her face gently. “I don’t want to let you go,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her cheek.

Tears finally spilled freely as she leaned into his touch. “I don’t want to let you go either.”

They stood there for a moment, their breaths uneven, the air heavy with unspoken words. Mingi’s hand lingered on her cheek, his eyes searching hers as if memorizing every detail.

“Can I…” His voice faltered, raw and unsteady. “Can I kiss you? Just one last time?”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the plea in his voice. She swallowed the lump in her throat and gave a small, trembling nod. “Yes.”

He didn’t hesitate. Slowly, almost reverently, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers with a tenderness that made her knees weak. It wasn’t a desperate kiss or one filled with regret—it was soft, lingering, and full of love.

When they finally pulled away, Mingi rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with conviction. “No matter how long it takes.”

Fresh tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, but she managed a fragile smile. “Me too.”

Mingi let out a shaky breath, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before stepping back slowly.

And with those words and that final kiss, they said goodbye—not forever, but for now.

———————-————————————————————

Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by all thirteen members. Their eyes were fixed on her, waiting patiently as she gathered her thoughts.

“Okay,” she began, taking a deep breath. “So, I guess you all know now… about me and Mingi.”

There were a few murmurs, but no one interrupted.

“It started about a year ago,” she continued. “At first, it was just… the company pushing us together for PR stuff. But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake.”

She glanced up, gauging their reactions. Most of them looked surprised but not judgmental, which gave her the courage to keep going.

“We tried to keep it a secret, but it got harder as things got serious. I really cared about him—I still do.” Her voice cracked slightly. “But being idols… it’s not easy. We were always busy, always apart.”

She paused, and Seungkwan handed her a tissue. She gave him a grateful smile before continuing.

“We started arguing. Not big fights, just… miscommunication. We kept missing each other’s calls, canceling plans. Eventually, it felt like we were holding each other back instead of supporting each other.”

Wonwoo spoke up. “So you broke up because of the distance?”

Y/N nodded. “And because we didn’t want to resent each other. But it still hurts. A lot.”

DK leaned forward. “What did he say tonight? Did he want to get back together?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers twisting the tissue in her lap. “Not exactly… but it felt like he wanted to.”

The room fell quiet as they waited for her to continue.

“He asked if he could kiss me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

A few of the members exchanged glances, but no one interrupted.

“And?” Mingyu finally asked, leaning forward.

“I said yes.” Her cheeks burned slightly, but she kept going. “It wasn’t just a kiss. It felt like… closure. But also like a promise.”

“A promise?” Joshua repeated.

She nodded. “He told me he’d wait for me—no matter how long it takes. And I told him I’d wait too.”

The room was silent again, but this time it felt heavier.

“That’s not really a breakup then,” Vernon said quietly.

“It is,” Y/N replied quickly. “For now. We agreed to let it go, at least until we’re both in a place where we can give each other the time and attention we deserve.”

“But what if that doesn’t happen?” Dino asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Then I guess it wasn’t meant to be,” she said softly. “But I want to believe it is. I have to.”

There was another pause before Jeonghan gently asked, “Do you think you’ll be okay seeing him at events? Working in the same industry?”

Y/N swallowed hard. “I don’t know yet. Today was hard, but… having you guys with me made it easier.”

Jun reached over and squeezed her hand gently. “You know… it’s okay to not have all the answers right now.”

She looked up at him, her eyes still glassy. “But what if I never figure it out? What if this feeling doesn’t go away?”

“It will,” Joshua said softly. “Not right away, but eventually. And until it does, we’ll be here to remind you that you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Y/N gave him a weak smile, but her shoulders still sagged under the weight of it all.

Seungkwan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think what you did was brave, you know?”

“Brave?” she repeated, almost laughing.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said firmly. “You could’ve held on and let it get worse, but you didn’t. You let go even though it hurt. That takes courage.”

DK nodded. “And it’s not like you shut the door completely. You both agreed to wait and see what happens later, right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, but what if later never comes?”

“Then you’ll deal with it when the time comes,” Seungcheol said. “But right now, you don’t have to force yourself to let go of what you feel for him. It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to hope.”

Her eyes welled up again, but this time it wasn’t from sadness—it was relief.

“I just feel like I’m stuck,” she admitted. “Like I don’t know whether to move on or hold on to what we had.”

Jeonghan smiled softly. “Then don’t decide yet. Give yourself time. No one’s rushing you.”

“Except maybe Mingi,” Vernon teased lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N let out a small laugh, and the others joined in. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to lighten the mood.

“Whatever happens,” Minghao said, his voice calm but sure, “you’ll get through it. And if you ever need to cry again, don’t do it alone, okay? Come to us.”

Y/N nodded, looking around at all of them. Their faces were filled with genuine care and support, and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel so lost.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “All of you.”

Dino grinned. “That’s what we’re here for. And if he ever messes with you again, just say the word and we’ll handle it.”

The room erupted into laughter, and for the first time that night, Y/N felt like maybe—just maybe—things would be okay.

———————————————————————————-

Later that night, Y/N sat on her bed, replaying the events of the day in her mind. The pain was still there, but so was the warmth of her members’ support.

She didn’t know what the future held—whether she and Mingi would find their way back to each other or not.

But for now, she wasn’t alone.

And that was enough.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Merry Christmas to you too my wonderful friend!🎄💗

Aww poor Ben. I love how we start with shading in his past Christmases compared to what he's starting to experience now with the reader. We come at it from the same angle of headcanon, that Ben's mom was the only person who truly loved him in his family. So it was such a good detail that after she died, Christmases became just more of the same toxic/apathetic atmosphere with his father, compounded by the impact of his mom's death.

Thank you! I love this headcanon and I really hope that in the prequel series "Vought Rising" that we're able to see a little more of Ben's relationship with his father and hopefully let us learn more about his mother. I know that this headcanon is a little "dean-like" but I think it also kinda plays into the "angel in the house" phenomenon that started in the mid to late 1800s. But the headcanon to me, makes sense. Ben has so many issues with his dad and I honestly don't think that if his mother was around that Ben's father would give him such a hard time or allow Ben to grow up in that kind of enviornment.

I also wanted to give Ben some "happy" memories from his childhood that he could compare what the reader was doing for him to something that was familiar and something that resonated with him😊, something about Christmas that was "familiar."

Lmfao come on, Ben. Let's not take this out on others. 🤣

He is the KING of taking it out on others LOL 😂 He also takes it out on Hughie in this fic and I felt so bad doing that to Hughie, but it is so in character for Ben 😒

Wow, that's so interesting. Taking a trip literally through Memory Lane and walking through his family's mansion. I've never thought about that before, but I imagine it would be one of those things that Ben, for the longest time, couldn't bring himself to sell, but also couldn't visit. Like a mausoleum of his old life.

I use this headcanon in my other series Madness, (same with Ben's mother), but to me it seems to make sense. That Ben would have a family mansion somewhere that is full of terrible memories from his father being a total jerk to him and never wanted to set foot inside. "Like a mausoleum of his old life" EXACTLY! It's just a big drafty old house that Ben can't go into because even though he says he's not afraid of anything, he can still feel his father's disapproval and disappointment, and going "home" to where he grew up would only make it worse.

Ben doesn't know what a home is because of what his father did, and now the reader is slowly showing him what it means. I also low-key wanna write the fic of her and him coming back to his house and him being hesitant and her just wandering around in complete shock. 🤔

You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭

Girl, I'm so sorry 😭😭😭 I had to 😂 It's really just pouring on the hurt and he just really loved his mom 😭

Lmaooo deeply relatable. I feel like it would be oh so funny to intentionally getting on his nerves (knowing he wouldn't hurt you). 😂

I knoooowwww. 😂 I love that about your BMD reader, that she isn't afraid to tease him and he just absolutely HATES it, but he loves her so he can't do anything about it and she knows it. I'll bet that he thinks the real problem is that she knows it LOL 😂

Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗

He does, man is a total SIMP 😊

People want to think there aren't any good aspects to "traditional/old-fashioned" men, but for the men who are actually good men, traditional doesn't necessarily mean outdated or toxic, so thank you for including this tidbit.

Thank you! 😊 You're right, I think that there's a disconnect about the idea that a "traditional/old-fashioned" man can't be respectful and is always labeled "sexist" or "toxic." And it's wrong, because you can find a man who is respectful, forward thinking, and who has those "old-fashioned/traditional" values (CHIVALRY! 😂) that really translate into putting their girl first, being respectful of what she wants to say, trying to protect her (not because they don't think she can protect herself, but because they want to), and doing things for her (again not because they think she can't do it herself) but because they genuinely care about her. It's the difference between a man and a boy tbh 💅🏻

Her gift to him was so very sweet!! Of course she made him something heartfelt, and he appreciated it because it was a genuine "first" for him, having someone give him a hand-made gift from the heart. 💚💚💚

I know 💗, I really wanted the reader to make something for him, just so that he could again be reminded how much that she loves him and isn't staying with him just because it's convenient or because he's attractive or because she's settling. Also I like that you picked up on the "first" thing again, because that was exactly what I was trying to do lol 😊. It's hard to find firsts for a guy who's over 100 years old 😂

And his gift to her was absolutely perfect. 🥹 A keepsake from his mother? Him basically saying he wishes she could've met his girl? I'm dying of happiness from the sheer fluff. 😭💗

This one was extremely fluffy, but so fun to write! Ben getting her a gift that meant something so intimate to him that he wouldn't have given to anyone else in the past, really just made me melt when I wrote it 🥺 Because he's never wanted to share those pieces of himself with someone else and now he has the reader and I'm just *crying*😭. AND yes! Him saying that he would have brought her home to meet his mom just destroyed me 😭

This was a beautiful addition to the Take a Chance story, and kind of feels like an epilogue in a way, even though I know you're working on that one too. I loved this, friend!!

Thank you so much my wonderful talented friend! 🥰 It really does read like an epilogue and I did not notice that lol 😅

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV

Summary:  All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding,  and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late.  He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him. 

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.  

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you,  that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life,�� you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss.  “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry.  Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do!  And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck.  The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.” 

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly.  "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question. 

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

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[oceanicwriting]

smile for the camera.

summary: ever since you confessed to your friend that one of your fantasies was to record a sex tape, everything has been strange. one day, after finishing the week, he is waiting for you in your dorm with a camera and ready to do whatever he wants with it.

pairing(s): bsf!lorenzo berkshire × fem!reader

a/n: second lorenzo fic! i liked this one a lot more than the last one. i hope you enjoy it ;-).

+18 smut, masturbation (fem/male receiving), oral sex (male receiving), doggy, praising, cursing

ㅤㅤㅤit's been a week since you confessed to lorenzo berkshire, your best friend at hogwarts, that recording yourself having sex was one of your fantasies. whenever you remembered it, a shiver ran through your body. although he had made fun of it the night you confessed it, he hasn't said anything else since then, maybe because you've avoided him or he knew the jokes made you feel bad.

ㅤㅤㅤ—everything okay? —you look at your potions desk mate, luna lovegood, who has her eyes filled with worry—. i’ve been talking to you for a while now.

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod frantically, assuring her that you’ve been thinking about something else, but nothing is happening.

ㅤㅤㅤthinking about what? lorenzo and your best kept secret.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen class ends, you know that it wasn’t just luna who had noticed your disconnection from the real world, being called by master slughorn to ask if something was wrong outside of class. of course, you lie, because nothing would be more embarrassing than admitting what was eating away your thoughts.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen you return to your dorm, your books hugged to your chest and shuffling through the exhausting week, you could only think about how much you wanted to hide in the sheets of your bed until monday. that wasn't going to be possible because lorenzo is leaning outside your door waiting for you to arrive.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what are you doing? —you question, instantly catching his attention—. everyone can see you here.

ㅤㅤㅤ—come on, it's not like they don't know we're friends.

ㅤㅤㅤyou deny, opening your bedroom door and noticing that your roommates aren't there.

ㅤㅤㅤ—no, but imagine what are they going to think if you wait for me outside my bedroom.

ㅤㅤㅤhe smirks at your unusual reaction. in any other situation, you would have greeted him with a huge smile, inviting him in to hang out and talk all afternoon. the problem is that this wasn't just any situation.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i need to talk to you —he says. you're standing, holding the door to stop him from passing—. it's important.

ㅤㅤㅤyou look up at him, noticing the dark spots under his eyes. lorenzo berkshire, who always had such perfectly smooth skin, had dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept properly in days.

ㅤㅤㅤ—please. —his eyes make you flinch, pushing yourself aside so he can pass—. thank you.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen you’re both inside, you close the door behind you, and lorenzo sits down on your bed. you stand a step away from him, waiting for him to start the conversation.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i imagine you already know what i want to talk about, —he says, relaxing into his spot—. about your fantasy.

ㅤㅤㅤthe mere mention of your secret makes your cheeks flush a bright red, making you uneasy at the way he’s looking at you from his position.

ㅤㅤㅤneither of you had admitted that there was something much bigger than friendship between you. lorenzo had never accepted it for fear of losing you, but you for fear of getting hurt. you knew each other too well to know that any relationship beyond friendship might not last long. although he had found a possible solution that would manage to silence the force that attracts you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'm sorry if i made you feel bad with what i said, but... was it necessary to avoid me all week? did you think i wouldn't notice?

ㅤㅤㅤ—enzo, it wasn't because of that. i mean, yes, you made me feel bad for judging me. it's just that i was embarrassed to see you again.

ㅤㅤㅤhe sighs, letting a soft laugh escape his lips.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you should have told me.

ㅤㅤㅤyou smile, shrugging and looking him straight in the eyes. then you notice lorenzo rummaging through his black and green cloak, pulling out of the darkness a black device that you can't identify until he lets it rest on your bed. a video camera. lorenzo damn berkshire had just brought a video camera into your bedroom.

ㅤㅤㅤ—why did you bring that? —you question, looking for the door behind you to escape.

ㅤㅤㅤ—listen to me, please, listen to me —he begs, getting up from the bed to approach you—. your fantasy... your fantasy could help us take all the weight off our backs.

ㅤㅤㅤyou look at him, stopping your hand on the door handle.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i know you can feel it. i can tell how you long for something to happen between us. isn't that right?

ㅤㅤㅤ—what do you mean?

ㅤㅤㅤhis smile widens when your hand stops holding the door, lowering your defenses at his proximity. he looked cute when he smiled, showing all his teeth, reaching his cheekbones and making his small brown eyes shine.

ㅤㅤㅤ—that you and i can take advantage of your fantasy to get rid of what we want —he says, his hand caressing your cheek to remove a small lock of hair—. if you just say yes.

ㅤㅤㅤyour hand reaches for the door handle again, but this time, it is to emit a soft click that locks the door. then, your hands wander over lorenzo's chest, removing the cape that falls to the floor and the tie. when you both reach the bed, he falls with a huge smile drawn on his face, eager to feel you, touch you, listen to you, and taste you as he had long hoped.

ㅤㅤㅤyou remain standing, looking at him lying on the bed in such an appetizing way that you can feel your panties getting wet. he knew exactly how to put you that way, although you had never done it.

ㅤㅤㅤ—record me —you whisper, making the boy's eyes shine at the order—. focus on me.

ㅤㅤㅤhe reaches for the camera at the edge of the bed, turning it on and starting to record. through the small screen, he watches you take off your cape, tie, and blouse that was squeezing your bra.

ㅤㅤㅤ—don't take off your skirt —he says, patting her waist twice—. get on here.

ㅤㅤㅤyou obey, straddling his member that slowly gets harder with the movements of your hips. lorenzo lowers the camera's focus until he records how your panties rub against his pants, lifting your skirt to get a better view of the bulge that is pressing against you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—how many nights i dreamed of fucking you using your skirt —he says, his voice hoarse and deep making you tremble—. a true beauty.

ㅤㅤㅤ—give me the camera —lorenzo passes it to you, and you focus on him from the head to the end of his chest—. take off your clothes, enzo.

ㅤㅤㅤhe unbuttons his shirt so slowly that you have to look at him angrily, making a narcissistic smile form on his lips and hurry his nakedness. his bare chest looks so exquisite in the lens that your hands can't help but run over his body.

ㅤㅤㅤ—do you like what you see?

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you are so precious, enzo.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo snatches the camera from you in one movement, pinning you to the bed with his body. his bare chest collides with yours, and his arm holds the camera inches from your faces facing each other. your breathing mingle with his, lighting a flame deep within your core.

ㅤㅤㅤ—kiss me, lorenzo. please kiss me until i can’t breathe.

ㅤㅤㅤhis lips latch onto yours with a demanding, electrifying force that makes you reciprocate with the same force. his hot tongue thrusts inside your mouth to fight with yours, making you laugh against his lips. lorenzo then sets the camera down on the bed and moves his hand down to your wet panties, moving them aside to massage your clit with his thumb.

ㅤㅤㅤthe sensation runs through your body with an electrifying exquisiteness that makes you moan in his mouth. then, lorenzo kisses your bare chest, sucking some parts of your skin and leaving a last kiss where your skirt begins. then, he stands up, his hand still working on making you writhe against the massage of his finger.

ㅤㅤㅤ—smile for the camera, beautiful —he says, taking the camera to focus on your face when it stops being touched by his hands—. do you want me to record what i do?

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo brings two fingers to your mouth so you can fill them with saliva and suck them before bringing them to your entrance. the simple image of the boy with the camera in his hands, pointing towards your tight pussy under your skirt and bringing his fingers to fuck you was enough to make you shudder.

ㅤㅤㅤ—here we go. —he runs his fingers from your clit to your entrance, making you squirm eagerly for his touch—. fuck, you're so hot.

ㅤㅤㅤand lorenzo makes his way inside you. his fingers sink so deep that it's impossible to avoid the gasp that leaves your lips. he pushes in the right places inside you to make you moan louder and louder, stretching your insides when he separates his fingers a little and slowly masturbates your clit with his thumb. the sensations were endless at that moment.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you look so damn gorgeous. —the camera paints your face again, this time more messy and whimpering from the intrusion of his hand—. take off your bra.

ㅤㅤㅤyour hands, shaking from the waves of pleasure that run through your body, manage to take off your garment. he films your breasts moving with you from the shudder, tasting from the screen the perfect shape and size he had dreamed of having in his hands. although that would have to wait.

ㅤㅤㅤ—touch yourself, —he says, his thick, demanding voice filling the entire room—. come on, don’t be shy.

ㅤㅤㅤyour hands travel to your breasts, squeezing and playing with your nipples as lorenzo’s hand continues to do its thing. there are so many sounds mixing together that it’s impossible to focus on what’s happening, making you squirm more and more and whimper at the sensations spreading throughout your body. you were feeling all your libido build up in your core, right where lorenzo moved his hand one last time, and your whole body convulses.

ㅤㅤㅤthe camera in lorenzo's hands doesn't waste a second in recording your wet and satisfied pussy, to focus on your face trying to catch your breath.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i can't believe you're letting me see this, gorgeous. so perfect when you cum in my hand, don't you think? —he says, leaving the camera on the bed at the height of your hips—. i'd like it more if you cum on my cock.

ㅤㅤㅤhe catches your mouth with an initial delicacy that turns into a murderous desire. your tongue fights against his, seeking much more by attracting him from the neck. lorenzo tangles one hand in your hair, and the other travels to your waist to turn you on the bed.

ㅤㅤㅤ—should we try? —he asks, running a hand down your back to your ass, removing your skirt along the way—. you don’t know how long i waited to see this ass of yours smack into my pelvis while i’m taking you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—who’s a needy boy? —you can hear his laugh behind your back and his hand lift your hip to leave your entire ass exposed. his hand still tangled in your hair forces you up—. i’m going to take you so good, enzo. i promise.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i know you will. —he turns the camera screen to notice that it’s at the perfect angle—. and i want you to see it.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo forces you to bury your cheek into the bed so that you can see the small screen where you can notice your body against his. he unbuttons his pants, letting them fall down his legs at the same time that he takes his erect cock, masturbating himself. you push your ass back in search of helping him with that.

ㅤㅤㅤ—let me help you —you whisper, feeling it slide down your buttocks, staining it with the accumulated precum—. e-enzo.

ㅤㅤㅤhe growls at the feeling of your soft, warm buttocks squeezing his member, generating a gentle rocking that you squeeze from time to time. the view was like any other dream, although this time everything was much more perfect.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i'm going to lose my mind, love. i've wanted to have this view for so long, and now you're giving it to me with honors.

ㅤㅤㅤ—because i know you'll make me feel good —you whisper, lorenzo searching in your folds for a little moisture to separate and spread it along the length of his cock—. i'm so ready for you.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo positions you, one of his hands gripping his member and the other, squeezing your waist to keep you in the perfect position. he slowly makes his way inside you, scraping every corner of your entrance with pain that turns to pleasure instantly after.

ㅤㅤㅤ—are you okay?

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod, causing lorenzo’s hips to move back and thrust into you again. the growl combined with your soft moan is enough to make him lose his mind, beginning to increase the movement of his hips against your ass. each time he thrust into you again, he did with more force and speed than the previous one, taking your hip to deepen the shock of your body against his.

ㅤㅤㅤclap, clap, clap. the sound getting clearer and louder makes your head hurt, mixing exquisitely with lorenzo's embarrassed sighs and moans behind you. seeing everything from the camera screen was stirring up all the sensations in you much more than you wanted to admit, squeezing his cock inside you and moaning louder and louder.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you're doing perfect. keep it up.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo tangles one of his hands in your hair again, forcing you to get up to reach your neck, ear, and shoulders with the wetness of his mouth. his movements have not stopped at any time, attacking your breasts with his free hand and kissing your cheeks softly.

ㅤㅤㅤ—l-lorenzo —you moan, stretching your arms back to hold onto his neck.

ㅤㅤㅤ—tell me, baby. what's wrong?

ㅤㅤㅤhe can feel you squeezing him the same way he squeezed your fingers a moment ago.

ㅤㅤㅤ—j-just keep doing that. keep moving. —your hands tie themselves in his hair, pulling his head closer to yours—. kiss me.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo smiles at the pleading tone of your soft voice. his free hand stops squeezing your nipples, moving down your abdomen until he finds your clit.

ㅤㅤㅤ—as you wish.

ㅤㅤㅤhis mouth captures yours at the same time his hand begins to massage your overstimulated clit. you were both restless, close to exploding and throbbing in every imaginable part of your sweaty bodies. your mouths move messily over each other at the endless moans escaping you and lorenzo's faster movement against you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—shit.

ㅤㅤㅤand your entire body tightens in a spasm that makes your juices explode all over lorenzo's cock.

ㅤㅤㅤ—just a l-little more, love —he says, still moving and growling against your ear. your entire body is exhausted, but you try to keep up with the pace that lorenzo hasn't stopped—. i'm close...

ㅤㅤㅤhe lets go of you, letting your body fall against the mattress and pulling out of you to masturbate a little to wet your back with the semen that shoots out of his member. you can hear him catching his breath standing there, burning your broken body on the bed with his gaze and laughing softly.

ㅤㅤㅤ—wasn’t this fun? —he says, you can see him taking the camera, while his other hand helps you turn on the bed—. what a dreamy view.

ㅤㅤㅤyour cheeks heat up because now that everything was over, the embarrassment begins to form in the pit of your stomach.

ㅤㅤㅤ—one last kiss?

ㅤㅤㅤyour eyes travel down his body standing there. and maybe you could take advantage of the situation a little more, because if you were going to make a video like that, you had to do everything to save the memory, not only on that camera.

ㅤㅤㅤyou move on top of the bed, getting closer to the edge. one of your hands hugs his flaccid member, making him jump a little. the boy's expression is the one you expected, confused and unfinished.

ㅤㅤㅤ—one last kiss —you say, just before kissing the tip of his penis that was beginning to harden in front of your eyes.

ㅤㅤㅤ—what...

ㅤㅤㅤyour tongue moistens its entire length, making it harden instantly. then, smiling as if you were about to try your favorite sweet, you embrace his cock with your hot mouth. one of your hands helps you cover the length you can't, allowing yourself to suck on what your hand shamelessly masturbates him. he moans every now and then, pointing the camera at your face.

ㅤㅤㅤyou kiss, suck, and taste, wanting to remember every part of his length in the most secret part of your mind. lorenzo grabs your hair and sighs before pushing his hips against you, announcing that he needs much more to be able to finish inside your mouth.

ㅤㅤㅤ—take it well, babe. —your eyes fill with tears at the feeling of his tip hitting your throat—. you're doing so well. don't be afraid.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo's hips pushing deeper and deeper, mouth salivating from the edge of your lips and camera pointing from every possible angle. everything was happening so fast that your blurry eyes couldn't notice much more than lorenzo's glorious sounds.

ㅤㅤㅤ—so delicious and appetizing —he whispers, noticing how your mouth does its best to keep up with his own movement—. incredible that you let me see this.

ㅤㅤㅤyour tongue runs over the tip of his member that begins to tremble inside your mouth. lorenzo growls, letting go of your hair and clenching his hands on the camera that continues to point in your direction.

ㅤㅤㅤ—almost...

ㅤㅤㅤone last thrust is enough for all of lorenzo's semen to end up burning in your mouth. his brown gaze observes you without being able to believe the remains of substance that escape from your lips, while the rest travels from your mouth to the bottom of your stomach.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you're going to drive me completely crazy.

ㅤㅤㅤyou laugh, running your forearm over the stains on your mouth.

ㅤㅤㅤ—enough recording —you say, raising your hand to reach the camera—. enzo!

ㅤㅤㅤ—let me record you a little longer or i'm afraid i'll forget your body.

ㅤㅤㅤyou get up from the bed to reach the device and end the recording in the middle of a laugh. you look at lorenzo, who still looks at you mesmerized by the nakedness of your body.

ㅤㅤㅤ—lorenzo, you could never forget my body —you say, pulling him with you to the bed completely undone. your hand brushes away some strands of hair on his face—. because if one day you forget, you can come find me.

ㅤㅤㅤlorenzo looks at you, one of his hands holding all his weight on you and the other clenched on your hip.

ㅤㅤㅤ—you will make me the happiest man in the world.ㅤ

[sherewrytes]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 ℙ𝕚𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕤, ℝ𝕪𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 6

↳ Sukuna x f! black reader

Summary: After the death of his grandfather, Sukuna Ryomen is left to shoulder the weight of his family, caring for his younger brothers, Yuuji and Choso. As he withdraws into grief, his relationship with Y/N, his girlfriend of a year, begins to crumble. When Y/N discovers the truth about his grandfather’s passing during a heated argument, it leads to a painful breakup. Now, both are navigating life apart, but Sukuna’s heart aches for Y/N. Determined to win her back, he must confront his pain and find a way to break through the walls he’s built. Can he rekindle their love, or is it too late?

contents: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, smut, dark romance, drug use, talks of depression and similar topics. (a lil )

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, serious drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

Taglist: @for-hearthand-home@clp-84@thelightknight21@favvkiki  @helightknight21 @dylsw @ria-s-writes @sleepymothafterhours 

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Here is another chapter cause I'm still writing out the other fics right now :)

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Chapter 6: The Weight of Loss

Y/N’s POV

It’s almost comical how different my life feels when I’m at school compared to when I’m at home. At Pratt, I’m a student, focused, and driven, with an entire future ahead of me. The campus is buzzing with the usual energy—students chatting, the sound of sketch pads flipping, the hum of distant studio lights. But the weight of everything outside these walls presses down on me more with each passing day.

It’s been weeks or days since the breakup with Sukuna.The loss of our relationship feels longer than the time we actually broke up but it feels like the echo of it still reverberates in everything I do. I’m trying to push forward, trying to act like I’m okay, but the reality is… I’m not. I haven’t been okay for a while.

The work in front of me should be enough to distract me. Finals are coming up, and my portfolio still feels like it needs a hundred more hours of attention before it’s anywhere near perfect. But I can’t stop my mind from drifting back to that night—his touch, his voice, the way he looked at me when he left, the pain in his eyes I couldn’t fix.

I sit in one of the studio rooms, surrounded by scraps of fabric and sketches, trying to focus on the design I need to complete for my final project. My hand trembles as I draw out another silhouette. It’s difficult to concentrate, especially when my phone buzzes on the table.

I don’t even need to look to know if it's from Utahime. She’s been checking in on me regularly. She doesn’t understand everything, but she knows enough to ask if I’m okay.

I pick up my phone, hesitating for a moment before responding. Yeah, I’m good. Just a lot of work to get through.

It’s a lie, but I don’t want to burden her with the truth. Everyone has their own problems, and I don’t want to be the one who drags them down.

I scroll through the texts, my heart dropping when I see a message from Toji. It’s just a short note, nothing particularly alarming. Sukuna's in the hospital. He’s okay, but he had a breakdown. You might want to check on him.

I read it three times before I let it sink in.

Sukuna’s in the hospital.

I bite my lip, the sting of old wounds coming back. What’s going on with him? Why does everything feel like it’s falling apart? I don’t even know how I feel anymore. I spent so much time loving him, fighting with him, then pushing him away, only for him to spiral deeper into whatever this is. And now, he’s in the hospital… alone?

I don’t even have the right to care, do I?

I put my phone down, my hands running through my hair as I try to make sense of it all. What should I do?

There’s a knock at the door, and I look up, startled. Utahime enters with a cup of coffee in her hand. She smiles when she sees me but then stops when she notices the look on my face. She doesn’t even need to ask.

“Something’s wrong,” she says gently, placing the coffee down in front of me.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “Sukuna’s in the hospital,” I say quietly. The words feel so surreal coming out of my mouth.

Utahime doesn’t speak for a moment, just nods, as if she knew this might happen. “You’re thinking about going, aren’t you?” she asks, her voice soft.

I shake my head, my chest tightening. “I don’t even know what I’d say to him, Utahime. I—” I stop, the emotions threatening to spill over. “He played with my feelings, and I let him. I gave him everything, and now... now look at us.”

She sits next to me, her presence comforting. “You don’t have to go to him if you’re not ready,” she says, her hand gently brushing mine. “But don’t ignore what your heart is telling you. Sometimes it’s easy to get lost in anger or pride, but if you care about him, and you think he needs you—maybe you should go. Just to know he’s okay.”

I stare at the coffee in front of me, the steam rising gently. I feel so torn. Part of me wants to throw it all away and run to him, to make things right, but the other part is terrified of what that would mean.

“I’m just… so tired, Utahime. Tired of trying to fix everything,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “And I don’t think I can keep doing this. I don’t want to keep getting hurt.”

She leans back in her chair, giving me space. “You don’t have to fix him. You just have to decide what’s best for you. It’s okay to care about him, but it’s also okay to take a step back. You don’t owe him anything.”

I nod slowly, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift. If anything, it feels heavier.

As much as I want to ignore the message, as much as I want to pretend everything’s fine and keep moving forward, I know deep down that the story isn’t finished yet. But the question is, how do I make peace with it? How do I let go of the part of me that still wants him in my life?

I guess I’m going to have to figure it out, even if it hurts.

I stare at the message from Toji, my thumb hovering over the reply button. I could feel the tension building in my chest, the pull to cave in and see him, to check on Sukuna, to offer whatever comfort I could. But I can’t. I won’t.

I text back quickly, trying to keep my answer as firm as possible, even though doubt gnaws at me. Yes. I’m sure.

I put my phone down and take another sip of the coffee Utahime bought for me. The warmth soothes me, but it’s not enough to quell the rising discomfort I feel. Maybe I’m running away from something I should confront, but every time I think about him—about everything that happened—my chest tightens. I know I’m not ready to face him.

Mei Mei sits beside me, her usual confident and laid-back demeanor a welcome distraction. She smiles at me, her eyes bright despite the obvious tension in the air. “I heard you’ve been dealing with some drama,” she teases, nudging my shoulder playfully. “You always seem to attract it, huh?”

I laugh, but it’s hollow. “Yeah, it seems like it. Just trying to get through finals without any more drama.”

She leans back in her chair, clearly not convinced. “If you say so, but I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s bothering you.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone. What’s going on?”

I set the coffee down, rubbing my forehead. Mei Mei’s known me for years. She doesn’t give up easily, especially when it comes to stuff I’d rather keep to myself.

“It’s… complicated,” I say, sighing deeply. “Sukuna’s in the hospital.”

Mei Mei’s expression softens. “Hospital? What happened?”

I explain the basics—the fallout from our breakup, his breakdown, and the fact that it seems he’s been spiraling for months. As I talk, it feels like I’m peeling back a layer of myself I’ve been trying to keep hidden.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” I continued, my voice shaking slightly. “But now… I just feel like I made it worse.”

Mei Mei listens, her face serious. When I finish, she doesn’t say anything at first. She just looks at me for a long time, her eyes calculating, like she’s trying to figure something out.

“You can’t keep carrying his weight, Y/N,” she says gently, her tone softer than I expected. “He’s not your responsibility anymore. I get that you care, but sometimes stepping back is the healthiest thing you can do—for both of you.”

I nod, trying to hold it together, but her words sink deep into my chest. I know she’s right. If I keep going back to him, trying to fix things that aren’t mine to fix, I’ll just keep breaking myself in the process. But knowing that doesn’t make the choice any easier.

I reach for my phone again, checking for another message. There’s one from Toji.

Y/N, I know you’re upset. I get it. But you need to understand he’s really struggling. He’s not the same guy anymore. Please, just think about it. He’s not okay.

I feel the weight of the message, the silent plea in his words. It almost makes me want to go. But no. I made my decision.

I turn my phone face down, looking back at Mei Mei. “I’m done with it. I need to focus on my future. On me.”

She smiles, a little proud of me. “Good. It’s about time. You’re a strong woman, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

I lean back in my chair, feeling the exhaustion from the last few months hit me all at once. Finals are coming, and I don’t have the luxury of letting my emotions run the show anymore. I have to finish this. For me.

But even as I sit there, I can’t ignore the small ache in my heart, the part of me that still cares, that wonders what could have been. For a fleeting moment, I let myself imagine a different reality, one where everything with Sukuna was easier, where we were happy and I didn’t have to make these impossible decisions.

But that’s not my reality. Not anymore.

Toji's POV

I stare at the screen of my phone, Y/N’s last text still lingering in front of me. Yes. I’m sure.

The words hit harder than I expected. I knew she wasn’t going to just drop everything and run to Sukuna, but hearing it from her directly… it stings. She’s shutting him out, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. Nothing any of us can do.

I glance over at Sukuna, still out cold in the hospital bed, his breathing steady for now. He’s been through hell these past few days, and I hate to admit it, but I’m worried. Despite all his bullshit, the bravado he puts up like a fucking wall, he’s broken. And it’s not just the aftermath of Jin’s death or the guilt he carries around like a fucking anchor. It’s more than that.

I thought, maybe if Y/N came, it would snap him back. But she’s not coming.

I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair. The room feels too quiet now, even with the constant beep of the heart monitor in the background. The silence between me and Sukuna is almost deafening, and I can’t shake the sense of impending disaster that hangs in the air.

I think about what Y/N said—how she couldn’t keep carrying his weight. And part of me gets it. She’s right. I told her before that Sukuna wasn’t the only one who needed to get his shit together, but I guess… I didn’t expect her to walk away. Not like this. Not after everything.

I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if we’d all handled this differently. If we had talked more, not let everything fester. Maybe she wouldn’t have had to make that decision. Maybe Sukuna wouldn’t be lying here, broken and lost. And I wouldn’t be standing here, feeling fucking useless.

Sukuna murmurs in his sleep, his hand twitching slightly, and I look back at him. He looks so different when he’s not putting on that mask. I can see the fear, the guilt, everything he hides away in his waking hours. It’s all on display when he’s vulnerable, like this.

He whispers something under his breath, and I lean in closer, straining to hear him.

“Y/N… I’m sorry…”

His voice cracks, soft and fragile. He doesn’t even know I’m here. Doesn’t know I’m watching him break down piece by piece. But I heard it. He said her name.

It’s fucking killing me to watch him like this.

I stand up, running my hand over my face, trying to shake off the weight of everything. I can’t do this. I can’t fix this. No matter how many times I try to tell myself that this is his fight, not mine, I can’t stop feeling like I’m responsible. We all are.

I check my phone again. Y/N hasn’t replied. I don’t expect her to. She’s made up her mind, and honestly, I don’t know what I would say if she did respond.

All I can do is sit here and wait, hoping that Sukuna pulls himself out of this hole he’s dug. He’s going to need all the help he can get, but I’m not sure I can even be that for him anymore.

I glance back at him one last time before walking out of the room. Whatever happens next is out of our hands. I just hope for his sake, he’s not too far gone to fix it.

I step out of the room, needing some space to breathe, even though the weight of everything is still pressing down on me. My phone buzzes again. Another message from Y/N. I don’t look at it. I can’t. Not right now.

The hallway feels emptier than usual, and I’m just about to sit down when I hear footsteps approaching. I glance up, already knowing who it is before I see their faces. Gojo’s impossible to miss, his presence like a fucking storm in the calm. And right behind him, Geto, walking with that same quiet intensity he always carries. They're holding bags in each hand, the smell of fast food wafting into the air.

Gojo gives me a lazy grin like he's just come back from a fun afternoon instead of dealing with a pile of shit that’s only getting worse.

“Got you something.” He waves the KFC sandwich in the air, the crispy fried chicken peeking out from the wrapper. “Figured you could use something real to eat. You’ve been looking like you’ve been living off hospital snacks.”

I glance at him, but I’m not in the mood for a joke. I just stare at the sandwich for a second before nodding. “Thanks.”

Geto just raises an eyebrow and slides a bottle of cold Coca-Cola into my hand. "It’s cold. Thought you could use a little sweetness with all this shit."

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I take the sandwich, unwrap it, and take a small bite. The taste is oddly comforting, and for a moment, it feels a little bit of normal. But only for a second. My mind is still a million miles away, locked on Sukuna, on Y/N, on everything that’s been happening. I can’t seem to get a grip.

Gojo leans against the wall casually, clearly unaffected by anything going on, while Geto remains quiet, eyes focused like he’s waiting for me to crack. The silence stretches, uncomfortable in its own way.

"Is he awake?" Gojo asks, breaking the tension, his voice light but his eyes searching mine for an answer.

I take another bite of the sandwich and sigh, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Yeah, but he’s not really there. Talking in his sleep… saying her name. Y/N."

The mention of her name hangs in the air for a moment, and I watch as Gojo’s expression shifts slightly. He doesn’t show it often, but I know he can’t be completely oblivious to what’s happening. Not with how tightly he and Sukuna have been bound, even when things were rough.

“I’m sure he’s just… in his head,” Gojo says after a pause, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly struggling with his own thoughts. “He’s got a lot of shit on his plate.”

Geto’s expression hardens slightly. “He’s not the only one, Gojo. Y/N’s been through her own hell. She’s not just some side character in his story. It’s never been that simple.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gojo mutters, though he doesn’t seem entirely convinced by Geto’s words. He glances back at the door where Sukuna lies, still deep in his own turmoil. “We all know what happened between them. It’s fucked up, but that doesn’t change what he’s going through.”

The words cut through the tension like a blade. I swallow the rest of the sandwich, my stomach growing heavier with the implications of their statements. The more I think about it, the more it feels like we’ve all fucked up in our own ways. We’ve all allowed this to spiral out of control, and now, we’re left picking up the pieces.

“I get that he’s hurting,” I say, voice tight, “but what do we do now? What can we even do? She’s not coming, Gojo. She’s done.”

The words feel bitter in my mouth, even though I know they’re true. Sukuna has lost her, and there’s no going back.

Gojo and Geto exchange a look, the silence dragging on as the weight of the situation settles in. Gojo pops the cap off his own bottle of Coke, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You just keep pushing forward,” Gojo says after a moment. “You don’t get to wallow in this shit. That’s not how it works, Toji. You just keep moving forward. That's all you can do.”

I’m about to respond when I hear a low murmur coming from Sukuna’s room. The door creaks open slightly, and I glance toward it, the worry clawing at my insides again. Gojo stands up and gives me a pointed look.

“Let’s go see how he’s doing,” he says, voice more serious now, and I can hear the weight of his words.

We all walk to the room, our steps heavy with the unspoken truths we’ve been avoiding. Inside, Sukuna stirs in the bed, his eyes barely open but wide enough to see the panic in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispers, almost like a prayer, his hand gripping the bed sheets tightly.

The room feels cold as we stand there, watching him struggle with the demons only he knows. His words hang in the air like a knife, cutting through the silence.

“Maybe we can fix this,” Gojo mutters softly, more to himself than anyone else. "But not like this."

I watch Sukuna’s face, the same man who used to be full of fire and rage, now broken. Maybe Gojo’s right—maybe we keep pushing forward. But even I know, with everything that’s happened, there’s no easy fix to the mess we’ve created.

Sukuna's POV

I’m trapped in the in-between, stuck in the land of the awake but not living. I can hear them talking, but my mind refuses to connect. Every word that escapes their lips feels like a blur, and I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear about Y/N or Jin or my own damn self.

The steady beeping of the heart monitor is the only thing grounding me in reality, reminding me that I'm still here, still breathing, even if it feels like everything else is slipping through my fingers. The voices swirl around me, but none of them cut through the fog in my mind. Not even Gojo’s voice, not even Geto’s.

Y/N. 

Her name lingers in the air like an echo I can’t escape. It’s all I can think about. How I fucked things up. How I hurt her. How I lost her. I can’t get away from the image of her, standing there in her apartment, looking at me with those eyes—those brown eyes I used to drown in. Eyes that no longer saw me the same. Eyes that were filled with pain.

My stomach churns. I want to scream, but the words catch in my throat.

My younger brothers.

Yuuji. Choso.

I’m supposed to be their older brother. I’m supposed to be strong for them. They’ve lost so much already, and I can’t afford to lose them, too. But if I keep spiraling like this—if I let this guilt eat me alive, if I let my demons drag me under—then what happens to them? What happened to me?

I’m supposed to protect them, but I’m barely holding myself together. I can’t keep breaking like this. I can’t keep letting everything fall apart just because I don’t know how to deal with the shit that’s happened.

I’m supposed to be better. Better for them.

But how? How do I fix this? How do I fix myself when everything feels broken beyond repair?

I hear Gojo again, his voice louder this time. "He's just... lost in his head right now. We can't help him until he helps himself." It’s all I need to hear to understand that I’m not getting any sympathy here. Not from any of them. They know me too well.

And maybe that's what I need.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to block out the pain. Maybe if I don’t open them, I won’t have to face the reality of what I’ve become. A broken man. A fuck-up.

But the truth is, I can’t run forever. I can’t stay in this fog of regret and self-loathing. I don’t want to be this version of myself. Not for my brothers, not for anyone. I’ve been here too many times before. Spiraling, falling, too afraid to face what’s staring me in the face. I’ve always been this way. But I can’t afford to be anymore.

I can’t let myself be the reason they lose me. Not when I still have a chance to fix it.

I hear Geto’s voice again, softer this time. "Sukuna... we’re here. But you need to come back. Come back to us." His words hit me harder than I expected, and I feel the weight of them pressing down on my chest. Come back to us.

I’m not sure how, but for the first time in what feels like forever, I let myself feel something other than numbness. A crack in the wall I’ve built around myself. A tiny opening to a possibility that maybe—just maybe—I can still get out of this.

But first, I have to face the one thing I’ve been running from.

I have to face myself.

“Y/N,” I whisper to no one in particular, my voice hoarse, rough. "I'm sorry."

I don’t expect anyone to hear it. Hell, I’m not even sure I believe it yet. But it’s the first step. And for now, that’s all I can give.

I open my eyes slowly, squinting at the harsh fluorescent lights above. The hospital room is sterile and unfamiliar, and for a second, I forget where I am. But then it all comes flooding back—the weight of my actions, the destruction I’ve left in my wake, and the realization that I can’t keep hiding from it.

I don't even remember when I said it, but those two words still echo in my mind: I'm sorry. They were the first words I’ve said aloud in what feels like forever, but they carry so much weight. So much guilt.

I sit up slowly, feeling the ache in my chest. I’m not sure if it’s from the panic attack, the guilt, or just the overwhelming sense of being broken. But whatever it is, it makes it hard to breathe, to think. To feel.

Gojo is still here, his presence just as obnoxious as ever. But there's something about him being here that gives me a sense of stability like maybe he doesn’t expect me to be perfect, but he’s still here, regardless. And Geto... Geto is just sitting there, staring at me like he’s waiting for me to get my shit together. Maybe he’s right. Maybe they both are.

“Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "How did I get here?"

Geto looks up from his phone, catching my eye for the first time in what feels like forever. “You’ve been here, Sukuna. You know the drill. You need to pull yourself together, for them.” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it. He’s tired, I can tell. We all are.

“Yeah,” I replied, my voice cracking. "For them."

It’s a mantra I’ve been repeating to myself for weeks now—for them. For Yuuji and Choso. They’ve lost so much already, and I can’t be the one to break.

But I don’t know where to begin. I don’t know how to fix this. How do I rebuild what I’ve destroyed? How do I fix myself when I’m not even sure who I am anymore?

Gojo leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re not alone in this, you know.” His words are blunt, but there’s something softer in his eyes. He doesn’t say it often, but I can see it. The understanding.

"I know." I don’t meet his gaze, my eyes locked on the floor. It’s easier that way. “But I still fucked up, Gojo. I messed it all up.”

Geto sighs heavily, shaking his head. "You didn't just mess it up. But that doesn't mean it’s over. You’ve got to take responsibility for it, man. For her... and yourself."

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. The words feel like they’re stuck in my throat. But then I think of Y/N. Her face, her eyes... the way she looked at me when I ruined everything. I see her pain in every single interaction we had before it all came crashing down. I can still feel it. The way she’d retreat from me, the way she’d pull away. And the way I never truly let her in.

"I didn’t mean for it to go like this," I finally whispered. "I never meant to hurt her."

“You need to talk to her, if she’ll allow it” Geto says, standing up and moving closer. “And if she’s willing, maybe... maybe you can fix it. But you have to start with yourself first.”

I feel the weight of his words, like he’s trying to lift me out of the quicksand I’ve been sinking into. But I’m stuck. I’m stuck in the guilt, in the shame, in the regret.

“What if she doesn’t want me back?” I ask, barely above a whisper. "What if I’ve already ruined it too much?"

"You won’t know unless you try," Gojo says, stepping forward. “You can’t undo the past, but you can at least try to make the future better. For her. For you.”

I feel something shift inside me, something small but significant. Maybe it’s hope. Maybe it’s just the desperation that’s been eating away at me. I don’t know. But it’s there, and for the first time, I let myself feel it.

Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe, just maybe, I can start rebuilding—starting with myself. I have to try. For Y/N. For Yuuji. For Choso. For me.

I stand up, feeling the weight of my body shift. My legs feel weak, but I force myself to stay upright. Geto watches me carefully as if waiting for me to collapse, but I don’t. Not this time.

I might not have all the answers, but I know one thing for sure.

I’m done running from it.

“I’ll fix it,” I murmur, barely believing the words myself. But I have to say it. I have to believe it.

For the first time in a long while, I don’t feel so alone. Maybe I’m not as far gone as I thought. Maybe I can still fight my way back from this.

Maybe I can still be the man I used to be.

the nurse filled in, "We tried to contact your emergency contact yn ln but they didnt respond. Do you have anyone who can keep an eye on you?

The nurse’s words hang in the air, thick with unspoken tension. I feel the room grow heavier as they linger, and I find myself grasping for a response. Y/N’s name still feels like a foreign sound on my lips.

I open my mouth to speak, but the words don’t come. What would I even say? She won’t answer me anymore. Not after what I did. The silence stretches between us, suffocating.

"I have—" I start, but the weight of it stops me.

Before I can finish the sentence, Toji speaks up, his voice cutting through the thick air like a knife.

"You can take my information. What do I need to know?"

I look up at him, and for the first time in what feels like days, I feel a bit of relief. Toji, as blunt as he is, never lets me down. He’s been here since the start, and I know, deep down, he’s always had my back, even when I didn’t deserve it.

The nurse nods, taking out her tablet and entering Toji’s information with practiced ease. It’s almost like they’ve done this a thousand times before, and maybe they have. Maybe they’re used to people like me. People who screw up their lives and end up here, needing a reminder that they’re not completely gone yet. That there's still a chance.

But I don’t know if I believe that.

I watch the nurse leave, and the silence settles back into the room like a heavy blanket. Toji stands there, looking at me with something between concern and resignation. He doesn’t need to say anything. I know exactly what he’s thinking.

"Stop blaming yourself," Toji finally says, his voice low, but firm. “You're not in this mess alone, and you’re not gonna fix it overnight. But you’ve gotta stop running from it, or you'll end up buried.”

I can feel his eyes on me, watching for any sign of weakness, but I can’t give him that. I can’t give anyone that. Not after everything.

"I know," I mutter, my voice barely audible.

Toji shrugs and moves to the side, making space in the small hospital room. "We all fucked up, Sukuna. But it’s not the end of the world. You’re still here."

The words settle somewhere deep inside me, somewhere I didn’t even know was still capable of feeling something. I look away, pretending the words don’t hit me the way they do.

But I can’t stop thinking about Y/N.

Her face. Her eyes. How she would look at me when I failed her. The way she pulled away.

I failed her.

But I still want to fix it. God, I want to fix it so badly that it hurts.

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do that. I’m not sure if it’s even possible. But for the first time in months, I feel like I can try. I have to try.

For me. For her. For everyone I’ve hurt.

“Thanks,” I say to Toji, my voice gruff and unsteady. "For doing this... for me."

He doesn’t respond right away, just gives me a sharp look like he’s waiting for me to crumble again.

But I don’t.

Not this time.

Instead, I stand up slowly, feeling the weight of my legs beneath me. There’s no escape now. No more running from my mistakes. No more hiding. I have to face this.

And maybe... just maybe, I can start with making things right.

For once, I don’t feel like I’m completely drowning. But the battle is far from over.

"I’ll make it right," I say softly to myself, more than to Toji.

The words feel fragile like I’m trying to piece together a shattered mirror. But I have to try.

I won’t be the man I used to be. I can’t go back to that.

But maybe, just maybe, I can be someone worth loving again.

For Y/N. For everyone I’ve hurt.

And for myself.

I’m finally being released from the hospital. The sterile white walls feel like they’re closing in as the nurses hand me a prescription for the medications I’m supposed to take. But I don't care about that right now. I just want to go home. I just want to breathe again.

The ride back to the apartment feels like it takes hours. The air in the car is heavy with the weight of everything I've done, everything I’ve messed up. I haven’t spoken a word the whole way. Toji’s driving, the only sound between us was the soft hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of the road beneath the tires.

When we get to the apartment, I’m not sure what to expect. The door’s wide open when I walk in, and there’s Choso, pacing back and forth. His voice rises, sharp and full of frustration as he glances over at me. His eyes are bloodshot like he hasn’t slept in days, and I know it’s because of me.

"Sukuna!" Choso shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, his face a mix of anger, pain, and worry. “What the hell were you thinking?! You scared the shit out of us, man!”

I flinch at his words, the sting of them going deeper than I want to admit. But I don’t say anything. I don’t have a defense, not for this. I can’t make it better with a few words. So, I stand there, silent, my head hanging low.

Yuuji’s sitting in the corner of the room, his eyes glued to the floor, his friends Megumi and Nobara beside him, looking as stressed as he is. The weight of it all crashes into me. I did this to them. I’ve been selfish, and it’s clear they’re carrying this burden with me.

Yuuji finally looks up, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm glad you're home, bro."

His words don’t hit me like I expect them to. Instead of feeling the relief I thought I’d get from hearing him, I just feel hollow. I’ve caused too much damage to fix it with just a few words. He shouldn't have to say that. I shouldn’t be the one causing him so much pain.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I mutter, the bitterness slipping out before I can stop it. "It’s not like I’ve been some fucking good example for you, right?"

Toji steps up beside me, his presence grounding. “That’s enough,” he says, his tone low but firm. “He’s home, and that’s what matters. Stop making this harder than it needs to be.”

Choso doesn’t let up though, his hands on his hips as he glares at me. "You’ve been running from everything, running from us, from yourself. We were worried you were gonna fucking end up dead, and now you’re back, but are you even gonna stay back?"

I want to answer him, to tell him that I’m trying, that I’m going to get better. But I know he won’t believe me. None of them will. Not after everything.

"Look," I say, my voice thick. "I’m sorry. I’ve fucked up, and I can’t fix everything in a day. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere right now."

It’s all I can offer, and I know it’s not enough, but it’s all I’ve got. I can’t be the man I was before. I can’t just wipe away all the mistakes I made with a simple apology. But maybe I can try to be better.

Yuuji stands up slowly and walks over to me. I brace myself, waiting for him to yell, for him to say something harsh. But when he reaches me, he simply pats me on the back, like he’s trying to offer something I don’t deserve.

“It’s good to have you back, Sukuna,” Yuuji says quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat growing. I don’t know if I’m crying or not. But it sure feels like it. Maybe this is the first step in making things right. Maybe not for everyone, but for me, for Yuuji, for Choso... and Y/N.

The tears come without warning, falling like a flood. I feel them before I even know they’re coming, a warm rush down my face, blurring my vision. I can’t stop them. Not anymore. I’ve been holding everything in for so long, trying to keep the pieces of myself together, trying to be the strong one for my brothers. But I can’t do it anymore.

My knees give way, and I drop to the floor, the weight of everything—of all the things I’ve lost, of all the things I’ve fucked up—crushing me. My chest aches, tight, like it’s too small to hold all the guilt, all the pain.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter through gritted teeth, though I don’t know if I’m saying it to Choso or Yuuji or even myself. My voice cracks, the rawness of it is unfamiliar and painful. “Jin’s gone because of me... and Grandpa... he’s gone. They’re both gone.”

The tears come faster, like a storm I can’t outrun. I can’t hold it together anymore. Not for anyone. Not for them. Not for myself.

I hear Choso’s footsteps, feel his arms around me as he pulls me up, but I don’t want to be touched. Not right now. I want to crawl into a hole and disappear, to not have to face any of this, to not have to be the one who let them all down.

“Grandpa's funeral,” I whisper, my voice ragged. “Our parents didn’t even show up. They didn’t care. They never did.”

The words sting, but it’s the truth. The truth that I’ve been running from for years. Our parents left us. They abandoned us, and the only one who was there, who gave a shit, was Granpa. And now he’s gone, too.

“I’m tired of holding this in,” I choke out. “I can’t keep pretending to be the fucking strong one. I’m... not strong. I’m broken.”

I look up at Choso, and his face is pale, but his expression is gentle. I can see the hurt in his eyes, but there’s something else there too: understanding. He knows. He knows what it’s like to lose, to feel like you’re drowning in your own shit. And maybe he’s the only one who can truly get it.

I look over at Yuuji, and his face is full of concern. He’s standing in the corner of the room, silent, but I know the words are there, sitting heavy on his tongue. He doesn’t need to say anything, though. The fact that he’s here—just here—means more than words ever could.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” I say, my voice low and broken. “I don’t want to be like this anymore. I don’t want to let everyone down. I don’t want to keep losing people.”

But I’m scared. Scared of what it will take to fix all this. Scared of how much of myself I’ll have to break in the process.

“I’m so fucking tired,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper. 

Choso pulls me close, his hands gripping my shoulders as if he can somehow hold me together. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, Sukuna. We’re here. You’re not alone in this. You never were.”

His words hit me like a lifeline, but the truth is, I don’t know if I deserve it. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the person they want me to be.

But I know one thing: I can’t keep drowning in my own shit. I have to try to be better. Even if it’s just for a little while.

I’m home. But the journey to redemption? That’s just the beginning.

[bethanydelleman]

How would you feel for modernizing S&S about gender bending Edward (Edwina?)? So his her and Lucy’s relationship is a secret because Mother wouldn’t approve. Lucy claims she’s a lesbian but really she’s bi and makes Mrs F think she’s “cured” by meeting Robert. And Mrs F can initially evenly split her money then disinherit Ed and it all goes to Robert.

This would also require making Elinor gay and add an extra interesting component to Elinor and Lucy’s interactions.

Okay, this has been suggested. Edward's relationship with Lucy is very strange and does not translate no matter how much I think about it so let me lay it out clearly:

Edward is secretly engaged to Lucy. Hiding an engagement from parents is run of the mill, but not being able to tell Elinor, a woman you love? That's not normal. If he doesn't trust Elinor enough to tell her, that ain't love

Edward is trapped in his engagement by honour. But why in the world would a modern person be trapped? Unless Lucy is doing some very messed up stuff (threatening to kill herself if he leaves her), there is no reason for him to fall out of love and stay. Remember, he was out of love before he met Elinor. And Lucy doing something like that really changes the dynamic for me

Lucy is holding on so tightly to Edward because it's her only chance at entering the gentry. Lucy cannot just get a job and nothing she could do as work would get her close to the wealth of Edward/Robert, but it's also very much about class security. So how do you translate that to modern times without just making her a lazy gold digger? (This is also a problem with modernizing P&P btw)

There is also the part where Edward is forced to be jobless because without family support, he can't really do anything. The gentry professions relied so heavily on nepotism that even if Edward went into the church, he'd end up without enough money to support himself. That dynamic also doesn't really apply to modern times

So yeah, this is why I can't do a modern Sense & Sensibility. I'm open to suggestions but this one doesn't fulfill the criteria for me.

[kamechan98]

Octavia is a seventeen year old girl who has little to no connection to the outside world that we know of. Stolas is the one positive relationship she has and that has become more and more strained over the years and especially since he slept with Blitzø that first time. And so she's been caught in the middle of her parents' drama, her mother's abuse hitting a new peak, her father finally standing up for himself which changes the dynamic as well, her mother moving out and also trying to pursue a relationship with Blitzø, which definately is a lot to deal with for anyone, especially a kid.

But, let's face it, Octavia does come across as pretty self-absorbed in a lot of ways. Which I do not blame her for at all, btw, we are all self-absorbed when we're young and especially in this awkward teen years. And dealing with a divorce is going to be rough on the kids, it's common for kids to feel like their parents not loving each other and staying together is somehow their fault.

But with that said, that immediate jump from "my dad's taking anti-depressants" to "is it MY fault that he needed these? Was he only staying with us and keeping himself miserable because of me?" Which, while mostly true, is a bit of a oversimplification of the situation. Yes, Stolas stayed with Stella and put up with her abuse so Octavia could have a normal, happy life, but if he had not met up with Blitzø again, him wanting a divorce and finally standing up for himself probably wouldn't have happened. Blitzø made him realize that he could choose for himself and find happiness, but if he hadn't, he'd probably would have just stayed in that relationship until he died if it meant keeping Octavia happy. And Stolas is a big People Pleaser so he probably wouldn't have rocked the boat too much if he hadn't found that strength in Blitzø.

People in bad, unhappy or abusive relationships have often been convinced that things can't get better, that this is all you're gonna get so it's better than nothing, and part of escaping is learning that things can indeed get better. And once you realize that, it's very hard being okay in those bad relationships or situations, which is shown as Stolas stands up to Stella, goes through with the divorce and tries to pursue his own happiness.

But back to Octavia, this of course is hard for her as her whole life and world is crumbling around her and as Stolas is her only positive relationship, she's terrified of losing him. As well as, while her life may not have been 100% happy or good, it was one she was used to and grew to either love or tolerate. And since Stolas is the one who pulled the plug on it, it is easy to point the finger at him saying he ruined everything. Kind of like how it's easy to blame anyone who blows the whistle for disrupting the status quo that everyone has grown used to because now they have to settle to something new, rather than happy someone finally did something to try and fix a problem and in the long run could make things better.

And since teenagers are a bit self-absorbed and dramatic, it makes sense for her to feel like Stolas has ruined her life and that he chose Blitzø over her, and not as Stolas trying to find a healthy relationship with someone else that can make him happy in ways she can't. That it isn't as black-and-white as she makes it out to be, that loving Blitzø doesn't make him love her any less or him being miserable and needing anti-depressants is because of her and him taking the first out of their family that he could find because he was just that unhappy. That in her mind it makes sense that Stolas just stayed with her because of obligation and the second he could leave her and Stella behind for Blitzø and can't see the whole picture yet.

That Stolas isn't choosing Blitzø over her, but rather choosing Blitzø over Stella and her abuse. That Blitzø isn't trying to steal her dad from her but maybe give her a happier, healthier family dynamic than the one she has. Right now she can't see thatm she only sees her father choosing to die for his affair partner and was willing to leave her alone with her mother. And more or less saying he should have let Blitzø die so Stolas wouldnt' have left her behind. Which is unfair and cruel to say, especially to someone who's already depressed and broken, but I'm willing to bet you money that if someone sat her down and had a calm, gentle conversation with her about it, asking if she really thinks her father should have let Blitzø die, she'd probably say no, if a bit reluctantly. But these are the kind of emotions you go through during tough times and we all say things we don't mean when we're upset, hurt and angry but once we start unpacking them we're able to deal with them better and see them in black and white.

After all, hurt people hurt people

And the sad thing is, all it would take is one long, probably painful but long overdue conversation between Stolas and Octavia for her to understand, or at least understand his perspective better. Maybe not the whole thing, as she's right in the middle of abuse and growing up around it has made her grow used to it. It would probably help to talk to an outsider who's able to see the abuse for what it is. But once Octavia realizes this, sees how truly terrible and evil her mother is and how she tried to have him killed, she will turn on her, no doubt about that. And once she's also given some love and compassion from others, the way Stolas has started to, she will go through the same kind of journey her father is currently going through.

Both Stolas and Octavia have hurt each other and both have good reasons for why they did what they did or feel what they feel, but I 1000% believe they'll find their way back to each other.

As much as i can understand where Via is coming from, and her feelings are valid, she doesn’t see her dad as a living person outside of just being her father. And that isn’t right. It’s especially not right seeing just how many people feel absolutely no empathy for him.

“She was just a child having to endure all that!!” Okay, and how old was Stolas when he had to marry an abusive girl and have a kid of his own, exactly? At least he gave Via a chance to have a good childhood, he didn’t have one. He didn’t have anything except for his duties to carry out.

And while it’s heartbreaking that Via sees herself as an obligation, that’s literally what she was supposed to be. Though that doesn’t mean that was how he saw her. She was what saved him, what made him endure all the abuse, what kept him going.

But sometimes that’s not enough, he had NO ONE to confide in and couldn’t put his frustrations on his own kid (because he’s a good father, despite what some of you would like to believe, clearly you didn’t grow up with a parent trying to guilt you by traumadumping when you can barely understand it), so he also NEEDED the pills.

The thing is, i also had that mentality towards my mom for dealing with depression UNTIL i started experiencing it myself. Because it’s so hard to realize that your parents are also human beings, since they’re supposed to protect you, they’re supposed to have everything figured out, to be the shoulder you cry on.

But if i see another dumbass claim that he CHOSE to leave and made the wrong decision in Mastermind, i need you out of this fandom. The whole point of that was that he had no choice, was he supposed to throw away the man he fell in love with, his first friend, his first time that wasn’t for procreation, and the one who liberated him? Stolas is allowed to care for more than one person, and he deserves to be loved romantically by someone.

You’re being too harsh on Stolas because for whatever reason you hate an abuse victim finally having a say in how to live for once in their lives, adding on top of that the weird, underlying homophobia in some of your criticisms for him.

Also i have a bad taste in my mouth from Via only seemingly hating Stolas, despite having SEEN how shitty Stella is. Sure, she doesn’t know the full extent of the abuse, but she’s heard the yelling, she’s seen the throwing, the ridiculing, the insensitivity. And most likely that woman neglected Via as much as possible, because she also didn’t choose to have her, but unlike Stolas she didn’t give a fuck to take responsibility regardless. (Reminding you of the “You get up” comment from Loo Loo Land). This was all happening before the cheating, so that’s not an excuse for her behavior (not that the cheating was, but at least Via would have been able to reason with her reaction to it).

It’s a complicated situation and it’s so shitty to put all the blame on Stolas, he tried so much for his family, but it was never going to be enough, because he’s gay. I’m glad he got out of that marriage.

Honestly, had i been given all those responsibilities at his age in a loveless marriage, i would’ve gone insane. I wouldn’t have been kind to my child, the cause of my shit life. But he never saw her as a weight on his shoulders, he has so much love for Via.

[stanlunter]

My headcanons on Arcane characters if they studied at school

Caitlyn:

- she is in the 10th grade

- excellent student, never cheats on exams

- performs all additional tasks to get the respect of teachers and be a good student

- she's good at sports, but doesn't like physical education lessons

- when she doesn't understand something, she asks Jayce for help and he explains everything very clearly.

- lets only friends copy her homeworks/tests

- is always neat, wears blouses and jackets

- doesn't like to show off, but everyone knows how rich her family is

- doesn't have much friends, basically only Jayce and Vi, but also has good relationship with Mel.

- helped Jayce to get together with Mel

- signed up for all school clubs and extras

Vi:

- she is in the 10th grade

- physical education is her favorite subject

- is really good at cheating at exams

- she didn't leave the school only because she doesn't want to part with her friends and gf

- sometimes she skips lessons, but does it well not to have problems with teachers

- she is not stupid and is able to understand some difficult subjects, such as physics, but considers it useless and prefers to do something more "practical"

- only sits with Caitlyn

- considers most classmates very stupid and doesn't take them seriously

- tries to have a good reputation among the teachers so she can cover for Jinx if anything happens

Jayce:

- he is in 11th grade

- he's an excellent student, but he doesn't do anything "extra", even for a good grade

- he constantly argues with teachers, and usually turns out to be right, but they don't always admit it. So he doesn't have good relationship with all of the teachers

- He loves physical education, and loves playing volleyball with Vi

- goes to the same gym with Vi and always competes with her

- allows everyone to copy gis tests and homeworks

- is friendly and sociable, many people like him, but considers only Victor, Caitlyn, Vi and Mel as friends.

- usually sits with Viktor or Mel

- he and Mel are considered to be the "popular couple"

- he was in love with Mel since 5th grade, but they started dating only at 10th one

Jinx :

- she is in the 7th grade

- she often disrupts lessons, but the teachers are afraid to kick her out, and Vi tries to cover her up

- she constantly argues with the teachers, but not to prove she's right, but just because she can

- likes spending time with younger students like Isha

- once when she was studying at the 6th grade she called the fire alarm and everyone still remembers her for it

- skips a lot of the lessons, but still knows everything because she prefers to study by herself

Silco:

- a headmaster who is intentionally trying to make the students' lives worse and is convinced that this is the point of his job

- actually, he's the only reason why Jinx still hasn't been kicked out

- spends the entire school budget on expensive coffee

- he knows that everyone hates him and it doesn't bother him at all

- He only leaves his office on holidays, so only few people know what he looks like.

- he almost never listens to the complaints and opinions of the students, so the teachers don't send anyone to the headmaster except for Jinx

Viktor:

- he is in 11th grade

- he is very capable, but to be an excellent student, he has to work really hard.

- mutually dislikes Mel and doesn't know why (mainly because he believes that Mel has a bad influence on Jayce, but in fact he just wants a bigger friend group, even tho he's actually fine being friends with Jayce and Sky only)

- he refuses to cheat on exams because he wants to prove his abilities to himself

- Found it out that Sky was in love with him only after the graduation

- when he already knows the lesson good enough, he just spends it reading books or doing homework

- usually sits with Jayce, but sometimes with Sky too

- is agree with Jayce in most of his arguments with the teachers, but thinks it's stupid to conflict with them and doesn't like being involved

- Heimerdinger is the "father figure" teacher for him, with whom he spends a lot of time. Singed is also an important teacher to him, but not as close as Heimerdinger

Mel:

- she is in 11th grade

- is a member of the school council

- she tries to study diligently, but is an excellent student mostly due to her excellent reputation

- her favorite subject is history

- she doesn't tell others that Ambessa is her mother and only Caitlyn and Jayce know it

- she is considered to be the most beautiful girl in school

- the favorite of most of the teachers and gets along well with literally everyone in school

- always offres the best ideas in the school council, but because of Silco it is rarely possible to implement them.

- made the first step towards Jayce

- unofficially belongs to the company of "cool kids", but actually isn't really interested in them

- studies well to prove her abilities to Ambessa

- usually sits with Elora or Jayce

Sevika:

- Head teacher

- doesn't like kids very much

- nevertheless, she helps the school council to make the school at least a bit better

- allows herself to be openly rude to Silco, because she knows that she will not be replaced

- she always keeps cognac at school, but doesn't get drunk, she just drinks a little to reduce stress

- leaves work earlier than she supposes too and doesn't what Silco tells her

Ekko:

- he is in the 7th grade

- "the clown of the class", which is why some teachers dislike him

- he is able to express his dissatisfaction when it's needed, but does not argue much with teachers not to get in troublea

- he likes Jinx and Silko doesn't like it.

- is a skater

- has a company out of 7th grade students

- sometimes helps Jinx to make a fuss, but only a bit

Heimerdinger:

- physics & math teacher

- at least half of his lessons are about his life stories and morals

- explains his subject as clearly and easily as possible, so every student understands it

- Victor and Jayce are his favorite students and he sees great potential in them

- the students often make fun of him and don't take him seriously, but he's not aware of it

- nevertheless, the students love him, even Jayce, despite the fact that he constantly argues with him

- he often brings different sweets to the students

- every his lesson turns into a nightmare when Jayce or Jinx visit it. But without them his lessons are as calm and comfortable as possible.

Vander:

- he is a physical education teacher

- there are rumors that he was a school principal once

- all the children adore him, he gives them advices and supports them.

- organizes card games and board games in his office, so it's always fun there

- he communicates with Sevika well, but she doesn't like him

- lets the whole school eat from his refrigerator

- He openly calls Silco a terrible headmaster and constantly talks about it

Mylo:

- he is in the 9th grade

- he's not very smart, but thinks he is and acts as if he is, however he isn't stupid

- is good at joking

- helps Jinx forge documents since Vi refuses to

- secretly thinks Jayce is cool

- is always late at school

- likes to listen life stories of Heimerdinger and Benzo, spends most of his time in Vander's office

- tells everyone that he will leave the school, but he won't

- stopped teasing Jinx the moment Silco became a headmaster

Isha:

- she is in the 4th grade

- spends the free time with Jinx

- she studies at an average level: neither bad nor good

- plays Brawl stars

- she wears a backpack with a lot of pins, most of which were given by Jinx

- the only child whom Sevika loves, but it practically does not show up in any way.

- she really loves school

Claggor:

- he is in the 9th grade

- ia very good at physics

- is always with Mylo

- has a fairly large social circle, is friends with 7th graders

- not a genius, but is a pretty capable student

- never had a conflict with anyone and never got into trouble.

- skips classes only for really good reasons

Ambessa:

- the history teacher

- she's trying to get Mel to study harder, and it's working

- she is extremely strict, everyone is either afraid of her or hates her, and she loves this

- she constantly tells students that they will achieve nothing

- the only teacher Jayce is unable to argue and even Jinx is afraid of disrupting her lessons

Cassandra:

- represents the parent committee

- in the class chat she constantly complains about Silco, but it doesn't bring results.

- sent Caitlyn to a regular school so that she could learn to communicate with regular people and study diligently

- she gets along well with Jayce's mom well and they often discuss their children together

Grayson:

- Engliah teacher

- the is friends with Vander and Benzo, they often drink together on weekends

- the most fair teacher who does not treat anyone with prejudice

- She's probably the only teacher Jayce doesn't try to argue with, because she only tells the bare facts, doesn't impose her opinion, and doesn't state what she doesn't know for sure

- finds a unique approach to each student and students love her for this

- she likes to philosophy, but not during the lessons

Benzo:

- he is a shop teacher

- conducts the most chill lessons

- most of the time he hangs out with Vander

- his favorite student is Ekko

- tells students life stories and gossips among the teachers

- he knows about Ekko likes Jinx and is teases him for it every possible way

Singed:

- he is a cemistry and biology teacher

- is pretty creepy, everyone is afraid of him, including teachers and Silco

- his daughter is homeschooled, so no one has seen her, but everyone knows she exists

- there are rumors that he is doing something illegal in his free time, but no one wants to look for evidence

- he is always glad to answer all the students' questions, even the strange ones and really likes to communicate

Marcus:

- the school guard

- his daughter studies at elementary school.

- he is biased against students and only lets out those he considers good (Caitlyn and Mel) when they need to leave the school during the lessons, but he won't let Jayce out even when he has official reasons for it

- is really strict, at least tries to be

- but it's actually easy to have good relationship with him

- sucking up to Silko and Grace in every possible way

- he considers himself a very fair and excellent security guard

[mer-acle]

But fr hera is rightfully horrified but WHAT ABOUT THE OTHERS?!?!?😭😭😭😭THEIR BABY BROTHER IS JUST LIKE THEIR FATHER😭😭😭😭

Also imagine athena finding out about where zeus got the idea from and like, THERE WAS A WHOLE REBELLION ABOUT IT!!! EVERYONE AGREES IT WAS EFFED UP, HOW IS NO ONE SAYING ANYTHING NOW😭😭😭😭

Heartbreaking as well because the mercy rhea had for her child is what saved his siblings but also made him aware he couldn't just swallow the baby, the mother HAD TO GO as well😭😭😭

Yeah... not the best thing for their relationship. I think Poseidon is confident (arrogant) enough to think Zeus actually couldn't beat him so not his problem. Hades and Hestia are just fucking disappointed and Demeter is pissed off (let's just disregard the whole Pelops thing it's weird anyway)

Athena, in council: Since we all know everyone here older than me has no backbone... The Cronides: EXCUSE ME Athena: Does anyone wish to talk about my mother? No? Didn't think so. As I was saying... The second gen: Her... what?

Yeah fr tho. Metis would have brought Olympus down on him to save her kid 😭😭😭

[memorabxlia]

A BIRTHDAY FIT FOR A PRINCE ━ 이한

genre: idol!au, parents!au, fluff summary: in which he surprises his family by cooking breakfast, leading to a heartfelt day of love, laughter, and of course playing prince with his daughters. warnings: terms of endearment, established relationship, idealized family life, kissing, mentions sleep and eating pairing: nonidol! leehan x fem!reader, wc: 1.3k a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEEHAN, also I absolutely love this req nugget! (apologies for taking so long, I would answer your req but the answer button has seemed to vanish into thin air 😅) nets: @blossomnet @onedoornet @chrimatanet @k-labels @k-films

You wake up to an empty bed, blinking away the last remnants of sleep as you stretch. It's unusually quiet for this time in the morning, and the absence of Leehan by your side makes you frown in confusion. Your mind is still fuzzy from sleep when it hits you: it's Leehan's birthday.

"Of course," you whisper to yourself, a small smile tugging at your lips. You sit up and rub your eyes, already thinking of ways to spoil him.

But then you notice something: the unmistakable sound of clattering dishes coming from the kitchen. You get out of bed quickly, padding down the hallway in your pajamas. The scent of bacon wafts toward you, and as you turn the corner, you find Leehan standing at the stove, cooking breakfast.

"Leehan?" you ask, a bit incredulous. "What are you doing?"

He turns to you with a warm smile, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. "Morning! I'm just making breakfast. Thought I'd surprise you and the girls."

You walk closer, arms crossed, and give him a playful glare. "But it's your birthday! You shouldn't be the one cooking."

He shrugs, casual and calm as always. "I wanted to. It's no big deal. You go sit with the girls. I've got this."

You huff in protest, but he's already back to focusing on the food. "Leehan," you press, moving to his side. "Seriously, let me take over. I want to do something for you today. You deserve to relax."

He shakes his head, shooting you a quick smile. "I'm fine, really. I like doing this. Go sit down; spend some time with the kids."

You roll your eyes but don't push it further. There's something endearing about how he never lets you fuss over him, even on his birthday. "Fine," you grumble, throwing your hands up. "But you're going to let me spoil you later."

"We'll see," he replies with a chuckle.

You shake your head, making your way to the living room where your two little girls are already awake and playing with their toys on the floor. They light up when they see you.

"Mommy!" your oldest, Mina, calls out, abandoning her dolls to rush over to you. Her twin sister, Minji, follows close behind.

"Morning, sweethearts," you say, kneeling down to hug them both. "Did you say good morning to Daddy?"

Mina nods enthusiastically. "He's making pancakes!"

"I know, but it's Daddy's birthday. Don't you think Mommy should be the one cooking?"

They both shake their heads in unison, giggling.

"Daddy's pancakes are the best," Mina declares confidently.

You laugh and ruffle her hair. "Well, you're not wrong there."

A few minutes later, Leehan calls out from the kitchen. "Breakfast is ready!"

You usher the girls to the table, where Leehan has laid out plates of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruit. It looks amazing, as always.

You sit down next to Mina while Minji climbs into the seat across from you. "Thanks, babe," you say, appreciating the spread.

"No problem," Leehan says, taking a seat. "Dig in."

The four of you start eating, the chatter between bites filling the room with warmth. The girls are old enough to feed themselves, though you keep an eye on them just in case. You take a moment to appreciate the scene: your little family sitting together, enjoying a simple breakfast. It feels... perfect.

After a while, you glance over at Leehan and ask, "So, birthday boy, what do you want to do today?"

He pauses, taking a sip of his coffee before answering. "I was thinking we could have a family day. I don't get much time with you all because of work, and I just want to relax with my girls today."

Your heart swells at his words, and you smile softly. "That sounds perfect."

Mina, always quick with suggestions, perks up. "We should watch a movie!"

Minji nods eagerly. "Yeah, a movie!"

You laugh, knowing exactly what's coming. "I bet I can guess which movie."

Mina grins, bouncing in her seat. "Frozen!"

Of course. You've seen it a million times, but you can't deny how much the girls love it.

"Well, it is Daddy's birthday," you remind them. "Maybe we should let him pick?"

But Leehan shakes his head, smiling. "Frozen sounds good to me."

The girls cheer in unison, and you chuckle, knowing you're in for yet another viewing of the animated classic. "Alright, Frozen it is."

Once everyone finishes eating, you all head to the living room. Mina and Minji race ahead, practically launching themselves onto the couch, while you and Leehan follow more slowly, hand in hand.

"I'm still going to do something for you today," you insist as you settle next to him on the couch.

He squeezes your hand, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Just being with you all is enough."

The movie starts, and before long, the familiar songs and scenes fill the room. You glance over at the girls, both of them completely captivated, and then at Leehan, who seems just as content watching them as the movie itself.

It doesn't take long for the soothing sounds of the movie to lull you into a doze. The comfort of the moment, the warmth of your family, it all pulls you under.

When you wake up, you blink groggily and realize the room is much quieter than it should be. Sitting up, you notice that the couch is empty. Mina, Minji, and Leehan are nowhere to be seen.

"Where'd they go?" you mumble to yourself, standing up and stretching. You wander through the house, checking the kitchen, the hallway, and finally making your way to the girls' room.

When you peek inside, the sight before you makes your heart melt. There, in the middle of the room, is Leehan, sitting on the floor with Mina and Minji. They've pulled out their dress-up clothes, and Leehan is fully participating in the game. He's wearing a plastic crown, a cape made of a pink blanket, and the girls are twirling around him in princess dresses.

You stifle a laugh, watching from the doorway as Mina adjusts the crown on Leehan's head.

"You're the prince, Daddy!" she declares proudly.

"And we're the princesses!" Minji adds, spinning in her gown.

Leehan looks at them both with pure adoration in his eyes. "Well, if I'm the prince, I guess I have to protect the princesses, right?"

Mina nods seriously. "Yes, from dragons!"

Leehan puts on a mock-serious face. "Dragons? Oh no! Where are they?"

The girls giggle, running around the room as if they're being chased by invisible dragons, while Leehan pretends to battle them off with a toy sword.

You lean against the doorframe, watching the three of them with a mix of amusement and affection. This is exactly why you love him so much. Even on his birthday, he's putting the girls first, making their day as magical as possible.

After a few more minutes of watching the playful scene unfold, you finally step into the room. "And what's going on in here?" you ask, grinning.

Minji runs over to you, grabbing your hand. "Mommy! Daddy's the prince, and we're playing princesses!"

You raise an eyebrow at Leehan, who just shrugs, still wearing the ridiculous crown. "I couldn't say no."

You laugh, kneeling down to join them. "Well, it looks like you're doing a great job as prince."

He grins, reaching out to pull you into the game. "Care to join us, my lady?"

You roll your eyes but play along, taking his hand. "Of course, your highness."

The rest of the day is spent in pure joy—playing, laughing, and enjoying the kind of simple, precious moments that make everything worth it.

Later, after the girls have been tucked into bed, you and Leehan sit together on the couch, exhausted but content. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

"Today was perfect," you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder.

He kisses the top of your head softly. "It was, wasn't it?"

You smile to yourself, feeling incredibly lucky to have this little family, to have him. "Happy birthday, baby."

He squeezes your hand gently. "Thank you. For everything."

And in that quiet moment, as the house falls into peaceful silence, you realize that this is exactly how birthdays should be—filled with love, laughter, and the people who matter most.

❥﹒ boynextdoor taglist: @minkilicious @dobbiesvvorld

[docholligay]

And here we see Waymond's moment of fantasy! That Evelyn would show him tenderness, that she would be the kind of person who would kiss his cheek in the middle of the IRS building. He wants so badly to find a way to reach her, even now hoping that maybe a trip would be something to bring them together. But Evelyn is so trapped in the immediacy of the problem that, I gotta say she definitely, absolutely helped cause--those write offs are dodgy as fuck, and I say that as someone who also does her own self-employment taxes--that she can't see the absolute fucking cascade of problems that is coming her way.

Evelyn's tragedy is that she is a woman so consumed by her past: The choices she made, her father's disapproval, etc, that she is letting it destroy her present (Her marriage with Waymond) and her future (Her relationship with Joy). She is so hung up on making that Evelyn, the one who might have been prided on by her father, who might have pursued acting, who might have been more successful, a part of who she is now, that is she is completely missing out on both who she is, and who she could become.

How often do people do that? How often do people get locked into constantly reliving and re-litigating their pasts, and identifying with particularly the bad things that have happened to them, that they do not understand they are sacrificing the living flesh of the now to the dead god of the past? I don't think evelyn is a unique case in this. I think it's a fucking tar pit, to get trapped in your past. I think it can happy so slowly you don't realize you've doomed yourself.