#i think i'm going to just call it a night socially for the day

[daughters-of-liberty]

I had a similar experience to greater-than-the-sword when my cat grew ill. Not being with her while they fruitlessly tried to figure out what was wrong with her, was very trying at the time.

As a retail worker, I saw the best and worst of humanity. I was routinely tipped by customers as thanks "for doing my job". I saw someone pay for someone else's groceries because they lost their job and couldn't pay, leaving them in grateful tears. In addition to our store's curbside and delivery services being offered, we had local young people offer to deliver groceries to elderly people in town so they wouldn't have to leave home and risk infection.

But the bad far outweighed the good, I'm sorry to say:

I lived and worked in a border down at the time. My state did not implement mandates until August 2020. We had people come over from our neighboring state and yell at us for not wearing masks, only to storm off in a huff when we told them we did not have mask mandates, and vow to never shop there again! ...They were back the next week.

I have severe social anxiety and wearing a mask made my periods of hyperventilating worse, as you can imagine. But, I didn't have a medical exemption. Still, my boss stood by those of us that found it difficult or even traumatizing to wear a mask. In my department, I worked with two women, let's call them Jane and Alice. Alice had severe asthma, to the point that wearing a mask set off such bad asthma attacks, she'd have to go home for the day. And Jane's last birth saw her forced into a ventilator mask, so she associated masks with her birth trauma.

Even after mandates were enacted in our state, some of us were told by our boss that we didn't have to wear a mask because of our circumstances. The worst social harassment I have ever experienced happened during this time, as others documented above. When the threat of fines became too much for our employer, we few were finally forced into compliance. Jane, Alice, and I really struggled that first week. Jane had a panic attack on the floor and had to go home for the day. Alice had an asthma attack and had to go home for the day. I had a panic attack in the back, and one of the other department managers (who was an Afghanistan vet with PTSD) had to help me through it. I did not go home that day.

I remember those same karens that yelled at me for not wearing a mask were now very smug. "Oh, looks like you have to wear masks now, huh?" I tried to hide the violent thoughts I had in that moment, but the fact they quickly glanced away after meeting my eyes told me I had failed.

I remember one time, after curfews were put into effect (mostly for teenagers, I should point out), I was followed home after a closing shift by a cop, ensuring I never went anywhere but work and home. I waited a minute or two and left to go get some food at the gas station despite having food at home, my tiny act of rebellion against the stupid curfews that didn't apply to me anyway, because I was a legal adult.

My mother lived in the neighboring state, which had curfews that applied to everybody, not just teenagers. I can't recall what time at night they were enacted, but they didn't lift until like 7/8 in the morning. Small problem: my mother opened at her job, meaning she had to be there before 6. Why her department had to open at 6 when customers weren't even supposed to be on the roads until 7 or 8, I don't know. So, all the department managers had to be given slips that stated they were on their way to/from work to be carried on their person in the event they were pulled over en route.

My stepmother works in a factory in the neighboring state, in a facility with not so great air conditioning. In summer, people typically had fans at their station to help keep cool. During the pandemic, they were banned because they "blew the virus around". I think she said two or three colleagues got heat stroke that summer from lack of fans/air conditioning in combination with the suffocating masks.

I had a coworker who worked at the local nursing home as their full time job. Every week, she had a new story about some poor elderly man or woman, some with dementia or alzheimer's, who had no contact with their families. The saddest story she told was of a man who's family came to visit him, as he was dying of cancer. They couldn't see him face to face. They had to stand outside, in the snow, and wave at him through his window. He died shortly after, not being able to physically say goodbye to his family.

The teenagers I worked with were depressed because they couldn't spend time with their friends in person, were robbed of prom and homecoming, and an actual graduation ceremony. They had a "drive through graduation" followed by a graduation parade down main street. Needless to say, a lot of these kids didn't feel like they had fully passed through that door, like they hadn't really "achieved" anything.

The lasting implications from these events, even in my little corner of the world, cannot be fully known.

We should journal and record what the pandemic hoax was really like...and I mean offline... because I have a feeling this is one the history books and digital world are going to intentionally forget about.

Like remember how they had stores where "for your safety" you were only allowed to buy products they deemed essential. Remember going into a store and sections were roped off and the fucking stores wouldn't let you buy certain things.

I remember going into a dollar store to buy emergency supplies but they were deemed non essential because they were in the camping/outdoor section. I remember that they had employees...regular ass people doing a minimum wage job walking around and harassing customers who were trying to buy anything but food or medicine. Because apparently if you buy food at the store covid wouldn't get you but if you bought a book you were sure to kill yourself and everyone around you. All this during a stage of this "pandemic" where nobody you knew had even heard of anyone who was sick...this was before the jabs came out and people really started "Dying of covid."

You could write a whole chapter about all the times some karen told you to put on a mask and you had to resist the urge to feed them theirs. And remember when they changed the meaning of karen midstream to apply to people who wanted to be left alone and not wear a mask instead of insane entitled people desperate for a sense of power over otherswho make unreasonable demands...like someone who approaches strangers to demand they cover their face so they feel less afraid.

[junedenim]

2010

beneath the boardwalk, part 8 (series masterlist)

glass in the park

warnings: the usual...angst, fluff, smut, etc.

word count: 13k

In late January, I bought a fur coat. I don't know if it's real or faux because I still haven't determined the difference in feeling between the authentic and the fake but I thrifted it so there's no guilt if it is made out of a poor chinchilla or something. It carried a dramatic feeling with it. I would wear it all the time. Sometimes, I would go out on walks just to wear it. I'd walk from my apartment to Grand Central and take the subway back just to make sure people saw it.

Alex returned to touring around the same time. While I was in a dirty slush-filled New York, Alex was travelling through the coastal cities of France. I knew it was cold there too but I'm sure it was much more conventionally beautiful and I envied him at times when I came home and my socks were soaked through.

We tried to talk on the phone daily, but time zones were difficult. We promised one another to always call on Saturday mornings for me so if we missed previous days in the week, I would always be able to tell him about my work week on Saturday.

Alex seemed to have everything and nothing going on. He'd play shows, get drunk or high, play ping-pong, take pictures of the Belem Tower, and watch Mighty Mouse.

I was busy. I liked it. My work would sometimes be straightforward office work, sometimes I'd visit places to review, sometimes they sent me home early to test products out, and sometimes they had me stay late to review products. I had a group of friends that I went out drinking with on Fridays and it was social drinking, not drinking to get drunk. One night, I ordered a Shirley Temple and laughed about it on the subway ride home at the thought of my younger self seeing me: a sober girl taking the subway home alone from the bar. It was nice to finally like myself. Or at least who I was becoming.

In my empty time, I wrote autobiographical things. I sometimes sent things to Alex but I found my writing became more introspective and it wasn't details I wanted to share with him. I was fearful of why I felt the need to hide it, but I didn't even feel much like reading it.

My friend, Fennel (he hates his name too), said it came from an overprotective biological need that all women must hide things from men, even if they are loving and trusting. I didn't think so. I told him I trusted Alex more than I trusted myself. He told me that was the issue.

Fennel cultivated weed on the balcony of his apartment in Murray Hill. He had a boyfriend named Kaka, who was a former Chippendales stripper and currently worked for Goldman Sachs. Sometimes, when he got drunk enough he'd reenact a routine. They were both in their early 40s, shared a dog named Rooster, and, still to this day, had the most luxurious apartment I have ever seen.

The building had a disheveled front but inside they had an open floor plan, a kitchen that was larger than my apartment, and the glorious aforementioned balcony. Fennel was a creative director at Condé Nast and had taken a liking to me because of my crooked teeth and what he called my "gemütlich" British accent.

I went over to their place nearly every week. They often had parties and I'd arrive in the early afternoon claiming to help them set up but I'd eat their fancy Bonilla a la Vista potato chips and play with Rooster. Their dinner parties were grandiloquent and their house parties were glamourously gauche.

One Sunday, I went over early through Fennel's insistence on dressing me. It was Pygmalion in a way or maybe I was the Edie Sedgwick to his Andy Warhol (I said this to him once and he took great offence because Warhol slept with Edie and he had no intention of taking advantage of me) but I quite liked it. I felt like a living doll and through his higher-up position and wealth, he was able to obtain fabulous pieces that he let me keep.

I walked around barefoot in their apartment wearing a Yohji Yamamoto (Fennel insulted me for not knowing who that was) white dress that flowed with every step I took while discussing Alex, who they had yet to meet.

"I can't believe you've been with him since you were 18." Kaka marvelled at this fact every time we talked about Alex.

"We had some brief pauses in there but yeah. You guys have been together for over a decade."

Fennel chuckled. "We were both in our 30s. It's quite the difference."

I sat on their black leather couch and leaned my head on the back of it. They were both setting the table. I was relaxing. "Yeah but isn't it hard at any age?"

"Sure but if I was still with the same person I was with at 18...well, that was a woman so it wouldn't count," Fennel laughed.

"Are you going to marry him?" Kaka asked. He was a complete romantic who would often say how much he loved love.

"I don't know. Maybe. I don't know if I ever want to get married."

"Independence?" Fennel questioned as he pulled out a wine bottle.

"Parents."

"Ah," he sighed.

"But I have a feeling they always hated each other. I've always loved Alex. Does that make me lovesick and annoying?" I turned my head to ask them.

"Yes, but it's admirable. You seemed to have picked the right one. Good looking, loyal, you talk about him so sweetly," Kaka praised.

"I sometimes wonder if he picked the right one." It wasn't a newfound concern. I always felt secure in my relationship with Alex, not so much in myself. Occasionally, the worry of whether he could do better than me peeked itself out, usually when he was away and I didn't have the physical reassurance.

"Hush!" Kaka told me. "Any woman is better than a man. Take it from me." He kissed me on my cheek and it was nice to feel so fabulous. Fennel let me keep the Yamamoto. I try it on whenever I feel insecure.

*

I got sick on Valentine's Day. I had been unscathed for too long and on the morning of Alex's return from Europe—Valencia, Spain to be specific—I woke up with the urge to vomit. So, I vomited. And when Alex arrived home, I was vomiting.

I heard his bag drop while I was keeling over the toilet. The clacking of his boots on our wood floors stopped at the tile of our bathroom as he said, "Jesus, are you okay?" He hesitated, surely disgusted, before kneeling on the floor beside me, rubbing my back.

I had emptied most of my stomach and was dry heaving mostly. I slumped against the wall, catching my breath. "Welcome home." I managed a faint smile and my sarcasm didn't cause any laughter from Alex.

His hand stroked my forearm. He still had his jacket on and I was in my pajamas. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know. I just woke up nauseated."

"Food poisoning?" He suggested as he stroked his thumb over my knee.

I shook my head. "No, no. I feel fine now."

I attempted to stand up but Alex held me down. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just need to lay down for a little." I slowly stood, reorienting myself.

Alex, still kneeling proposal-style, offered, "Alright. Do you want me to carry you?"

I laughed. "I can manage to walk five feet to the bedroom, Alex." I headed toward our unmade bed.

"I can manage to carry you five feet to the bedroom." He wanted to make sure I knew that.

I smiled and to placate his need to help I had him get me a glass of water. He returned, jacket- and shoeless, with my glass of water. I took a sip and placed it on the bedside table we found at the Grand Bazaar last December. Alex sat in front of me, taking my feet into his lap. "You think it's the flu?"

I shook my head and slumped back onto the pillows up against the headboard. "No, no. I feel fine and I don't have a fever."

"Hungover?" He smirked, poking fun.

"No," I mocked. "An upset stomach. I'm fine now. How have you been? How was the flight?"

"Fine," he quickly answered. "Did you eat anything this morning?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine," I insisted. "How are you?"

"Fine. Do you want me to get you something? Tea? Crackers?" He continued to pester.

"No. Can we talk about something else or else I might vomit on you?" I crossed my arms, frustrated with myself for ruining the morning, frustrated with him for continuing to ruin this reunion.

"I'm just concerned something might be wrong. Should we go to the doctor?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm fine. I know my own body. It was just a little morning bug."

His eyes shot up and wide looking straight at me as if he had just gotten an electric shock. "Do you think you could be...?"

I took my feet off his lap, criss-crossing them. "Oh, god, I'm not pregnant. Calm down."

"You sure? When was your last...you know?" He moved his hand up and down in front of his stomach.

I raised my eyebrows and laughed. "Period? What are you? A 12-year-old boy, you can't say the word?"

He sat awkwardly, a nervous look on his face. "No, it's just, you know..."

"I don't know and I don't know where this sudden weird behavior of yours is coming from." I sipped on the water and rolled my eyes behind my closed lids.

He reached out to rub my knee again. It was becoming rather annoying like a fly pestering you. "I'm concerned. That's all. So? When was it?"

I shrugged. "Like a month ago. I don't know."

He was bug-eyed and staring into my soul. "Well, are you late?"

"I don't keep track of that stuff." It was probably laziness or maybe because I was on birth control. Granted, I wasn’t very regular with that anymore. I never liked taking it and Alex hadn’t been there for a month.

"You don't keep track!" He stood up, pacing like it was the 1950s and he was stuck in the hallway while I was giving birth.

"You don't even have a period." I crossed my arms and leaned further back into bed. I was tired. He must have been jet lagged too. Why weren’t we sleeping?

"Yeah, but I am having sex with you."

"We last had sex a month ago. I'm not pregnant."

"And have you had a period since?"

I sighed. "No."

He exhaled and his head fell to his chest. He looked like my father. His head slumped after my mother disappointed him. It terrified me. Like I had done something wrong by not shedding my uterine lining. I didn't feel pregnant. Alex's concern made me concerned but I was more scared by the way his head sank.

"Should I go buy a test?" I asked. I didn't feel like fighting that I wasn't. I got an eerie feeling like I was overhearing my parents fight but I had suddenly body swapped with my mother. It felt like some trust had snapped in between Alex and me. For him, he'll say it wasn't and that it was based solely on concern. I thought otherwise. Like his paranoia had overtaken him.

"I'll go," he offered.

I shook my head and went to my dresser for a change of clothes. "No, it's fine." It's wicked that in my mind I held more worry over someone catching Alex Turner with a pregnancy test than actually being pregnant.

I threw the fur coat on and made my way to the nearby CVS. I had never bought one before. I don't know if I thought I ever would but I suppose I imagined it over different circumstances—a happy one, maybe with someone beside me with equal excitement. I bought a tube of toothpaste and a bag of Cheetos. I still had vomit on my breath.

Alex was sitting on the couch when I returned. His fingers were tapping the armrest and he had the TV on The View but he held a locked stare with the front door, meeting my eyes as I walked in.

I tossed the plastic bag on the coffee table and collapsed on the couch beside him. "I don't have to pee."

"Okay."

I grabbed the remote sitting between us and began to flip channels. Not much of anything good was on that early. I felt Alex staring at me but he didn't speak so I didn't speak. I landed on Notting Hill. "I hate this movie," I said just to have something to say.

He didn't say anything. Not even a Hugh Grant joke.

A half-hour passed in silence beside the movie before I stood up, dug the box out, and went to the bathroom. Not a word from Alex. I slammed the bathroom door shut.

I fumbled with the test for a while, struggling to open the box's lid. I wondered if Alex didn't join me in the bathroom because he thought I needed privacy or because he was upset. I think he was mostly just a scared little boy.

He felt so little to me in that moment and not in the way I loved. He was small and made my blood boil, even if I couldn't fully blame him for his concern. But his silence bugged me. His impassive form on the couch, a refusal to move or communicate. He had a habit of getting in his own head and barring entry. He'd say it was his personality. I'd say it was immaturity.

I took the test and waited for the results to appear alone in the bathroom. Negative, as expected. Still, I was left with uncertainty about what to do. I was mad at him but I didn't want to yell. I was relieved but I didn't want to celebrate. I was left where he was: silence.

Alex was still where I had left him. I put the test on the coffee table and sat down beside him, the last 10 minutes of Notting Hill playing. But he didn't move to look at it. His head turned to me instead. He was reading my face rather than the test. I stayed neutral and stared onward, refusing his enticing gaze.

"I'm sorry if I made you..." He hadn't fully grasped what I was thinking. I tend to think men and women are mostly the same but I find our biological difference is showcased in those times of stress. "It's negative. Right?"

I nodded, staring at Julia Roberts, arms crossed. "Mhmm."

He scooted closer to me. "Jane." His hand landed on my sweatpants-covered thigh and my eyes decided to finally snap over to him, small, tiny, scared little boy Alex. "I would've..."

"What?"

He looked at me as if he didn't expect a reaction from me. His expression was stunned and his hand stilled. "I don't know." You brought his hand up to his forehead, pushing his long strands back over his head. He took a deep breath. "This whole morning has felt like whiplash."

I scoffed, "Yeah." My head turned away from him. I was battered with the feeling of numbness. In the past, I think I would've cried. Or yelled. Now, I felt indifferent. I didn't know how to feel about that either.

"Have I ruined Valentine's Day?" He asked in an attempt to make me laugh.

I shut off the TV and stood up. "Yeah." I walked away to the bedroom. Alex stayed out in the living room.

When I went out to the kitchen, Alex was asleep on the couch. I made as much noise in the kitchen as possible to wake him up. I knew he was jet lagged and tired but I was a scorned woman.

I started the tea kettle and turned around to see a yawning Alex. "Do you want tea?" I offered.

He shook his head and placed his hands on the back of a chair. "I'm sorry for being an asshole." I turned away, not particularly interested in looking at him, instead I searched for a mug. "I suppose I have a habit of that. But I figured we could go out tonight. Go to a pub. Get some drinks."

Alex smiled, proud of himself for upholding a minimal tradition in my eyes. "I have plans tonight."

I didn't expect him to roll over and die. "Oh. Okay." He sat down on one of the stools and said nothing else.

There was no fight in him, meaning I had to be the one to fight. "Fennel and Kaka are having a party. I told them we'd go."

"That'll be fun.” He sent me a complacent smile. “I'll finally get to meet them."

I smiled back just as limitingly. "They've heard a lot."

He looked down at his hands. "Bad, I'm sure."

I exhaled. "I don't hate you, Alex."

"Feels like it." He was moody and refused eye contact, almost like he was me. We had been around each other for so long that we had become each other. People would say this to me but I rarely saw it.

"Call it PMSing. It just wasn't the best greeting."

He nodded, the understanding slowly seeping into him. "I know. I'm sorry for that."

"I woke up early to be awake when you got back and there I go getting sick."

He looked guilty. Solemn and culpable. "I should be making you tea."

I turned back with a smile. "Yeah. You should."

He walked closer and hugged my side. He placed a kiss on my temple and squeezed me close to him. "Go sit down. I'll bring this over to you."

I kissed his cheek. "Alright."

*

Fennel and Kaka's apartment was stuffed with everything. People, liquor, drugs, music, hearts. Alex wore a white shirt with a suit jacket over top. I wore a pink floral Roberto Cavalli cocktail dress, Fennel provided. Maybe it was because of our fight earlier or maybe I had just changed since I had seen Alex last, but I held a superiority complex over him. The silk of my dress wrapped me in elegance and the rough quality of his suit jacket. Oh, shit, I was becoming posh.

Looking back, I wasn't dignified or aware enough that my mother held these opinions of my father as well. However, I was also in a bitter state, and even Alex said I looked better than him so I wasn't really kidding myself.

People held cocktails and canapés were being moved throughout the room. Alex and I stood in the corner silently, I sipped the edge of my gimlet to keep it from spilling. Alex drank a whiskey. I kept thinking about it, in an ashamed way, but then I found humour in it and thought it best to break the ice and tell Alex what I was thinking. "We really are my mother and father."

He turned, originally with a neutral look on his face before spotting the crack of my smile. He breathed laughter out and lifted his glass, taking a slow sip from it. I imagine he was looking for something to say. We hadn't spoken for so long that his vocal chords must’ve needed a refresher course. He dropped the glass to his side. "I hope all the good parts."

I chuckled. "You say that like there are some."

He tossed his head side-to-side. "They've always had elegance to them. They intimidate me. The way the act is, you know..." He moved his hand like he was fishing for the word, trying to find it in the ocean of his mind.

"Posh?" I suggested.

His jaw dropped. "Now, Janie, I would never say that."

"Oy! Jane Cavendish!" It was Fennel, approaching us with Kaka following behind him. They were both dressed in matching maroon suits, each with a cocktail. "Beautiful. Always beautiful. And this must be Alex. Oh, how we've waited for this moment."

"Don't say that. You'll make him nervous," I told them. Alex didn't like it when I told people this. He found it to be invasive for other people—those not close to him—to know his emotions. I found Fennel and Kaka to be trustworthy of this information.

Alex peered over at me like I was his mother embarrassing him in front of his friends. "It's nice to finally meet you both." He shook their hands and they were both very impressed by this. I could tell.

"You both look lovely," I told them.

"Ralph Lauren," Fennel replied. He moved his hand down the fabric of his suit. "Red velvet. Feel." He reached out for my hand and rubbed it up against the velvet, the smoothness running under my fingers. "Now, you, Alex." He grabbed Alex's hand doing the same. It was awkward and made me giggle but Fennel always had a way of putting people at ease. At the sound of my enjoyment, Alex chuckled, nodding his head in approval of the fabric choice.

Kaka told Alex, "Has Jane told you how jealous we are of you two?"

Alex looked over at me at the knowledge of this news. "No, no. Why?" He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"The romance," Kaka swooned. "I wish I could have met Fennel sooner but we were a mess at your age. To find your love so early and keep it going and in the way you two are. If I was doing that at 23, I'd be a mess. Young love is just so lovely. Sorry, I'm a little inebriated."

Alex chuckled. "That's fine."

"You're a very beautiful couple," Fennel said. "I know a lot of ugly ones. Inside and out."

"Well, we had a fight before this so, if that brings us down from paradise for a bit." Alex seemed shocked I had said this. I thought I sounded like my 17-year-old self again. It was honest to me but it was also childish.

Fennel waved his hands. "Fights are great. You should have makeup sex in the bathroom."

I asked, "But where will everyone do coke?" We all laughed. Alex too, if not out of humour than of peer pressure.

Hours passed. We talked with some of my co-workers and Fennel's and Kaka's cultured friends. While Alex was in the bathroom, I talked with David Remnick and nearly fainted out of nervousness because I couldn't remember how to say Ibuprofen.

Alex and I went to the balcony to smoke. The city rushed by below and we each lit a cigarette up alone. I sighed and leaned on the railing, my head in my hand. It was so hot in the apartment but I felt so chilly outside as the wind rushed by. I felt Alex place his hand on my back. He was like a hot water bottle. He knocked against my spine like he was checking to make sure all my vertebrae were still in place. "You look like Juliet."

I turned my head to look at him but his head was off to the left, the smoke escaping out of the side of his mouth. He looked like he was stargazing, even though he couldn't have seen any in that light-polluted sky. His touch on me was this firm thing. I had never felt him so strongly like he wanted me to know he was still standing there beside me.

"The moon is so bright," he said. I looked into his eyes, searching for it in there. I followed his line of sight before my own landed on the glowing sphere hanging up in the sky. It stood bold against the black void surrounding it.

I looked at Alex, bold as ever. I couldn't manage anything with my tongue. I just stared at him while he stared at the moon. I don't know if he felt my eyes on him or if he was so enraptured with the moon that he couldn't handle looking anywhere else.

I sighed, standing up straight. I don't know what I was thinking by standing up so quickly. I don't know why I didn't just stay there and watch him for hours. "I've never understood the whole man-in-the-moon thing."

Alex shrugged, still staring above. "You can see anything if you look long enough."

I scuffed my cigarette out on the railing but kept the dog end in my hand. "Do you think if I stare at it long enough I'll see you?"

He hummed his response. I wasn't sure if we were speaking in some kind of code or just dancing around one another's words. Everything felt off, even if we looked so on track. I was uneasy in finding a response. He acted like he wanted to be alone but his hand persisted its touch on my back. His lips wrapped around his smoke and his eyes stared off into the lights of the city.

My arms crossed and I stood at what felt like such a distance. I stepped sideways, figuring Alex to be done with me and on to his stargazing. I'd have greater engagement talking to the walls inside and at least then I'd have a cocktail too. I turned away and his hand grazed across my back as I moved.

"I feel like I've done something wrong," Alex finally spoke. I had my back to him and it felt like I may never look at him again. Either he or my feet wouldn't allow me to turn around to see him. "I overstepped earlier."

My hand went to my forehead and it was like my brain was going to swell up and push itself out of my skull. I spun around on my heels. He was leaning back against the rail nonchalantly but held such caution in his bones. His eyes had a hard time staying on mine as he committed to the nervous habit of playing with his nails and tapping the end of his cigarette. "It's fine. I don't want to fight about it. I'm tired."

"Okay." He deflected his silence onto me, acting as if I was the one causing tension between us. Earlier that was the case but I dropped it in the kitchen and moved on with life. The whole day Alex held a wall around him. It wasn't a new thing for him to have his guard up, but I usually wasn’t the one blocked from entering.

I swore to myself long ago, after our break-up in '07 that I wouldn't be accusatory to Alex. Trust had always been strong but we always had a weak link. His stare now penetrated me and I felt like the nervous one. My arms stayed crossed but my hands began to squeeze the sides of me and I looked away, inside at the party, which had grown louder as the pretense of class had dropped with the amount of alcohol and drugs. "Did something happen on tour?"

My eyes moved back at his quietness. I had a sick feeling in my stomach but I didn't feel like I had a right to. I'm the one who fucked up before so I'd forgive him if he did now. Instead of guilt, he stared at me like he didn't know what language I was speaking. "No. Why?"

I don't know if he wanted me to feel sorry for him because I was accusing him of something that he didn't do or if he was as lost as I was when it came to this stalemate. "You just seem off. That's all."

He shrugged. "It's been a weird day." I was hit with a wave and I'm still figuring out whether it was from nostalgia or because I actually did see it but I swore he looked 17 again at that moment. I'll always see glimpses of that. The locked-in memory of his first impression. Through his long hair and whatever frustration he seemed to have, I smiled because we were standing in a garden. One that was on a balcony and was mainly weed other than one pot of zinnias.

I dropped my arms and plucked at the fabric of my dress. I didn't tell him what I thought. I thought myself to be a little childish in my reminiscing but it was Valentine's Day and I don't know why we went to this party because I always just wanted Alex to myself. I was a desperate woman with a sole propensity to be alone with Alex, especially when it was the day of his homecoming. I blamed it on my period, which I got the following day (not pregnant).

"You didn't want to come here tonight?" I said it as a question but it was a statement. I was already sure of Alex's stance. His inability to relax around strangers and his reluctance to engage in small talk. I knew he also had an inclination to be alone with me.

He played nice though. Always gave in to me easily on these kinds of dilemmas because it's what I wanted. He couldn't give me much in other areas (I had just finally won the whole location problem) so he found it expected to do what I wanted to do when he was around. But, sometimes (I use sometimes very loosely because I do in fact like getting my way), I liked doing what he wanted to do. Most of all, my favourite thing was talking to him. So, why would I spend a whole night chit-chatting with other people? (Besides, David Remnick because that really was a dream come true).

"I'm having fun." He wasn't very convincing. A tone of neutrality and a shrug of his shoulders that just looked like disinterest.

I chuckled to myself. "I'd like to give myself some credit. I know you better than anyone else so I know that you're full of shit."

He laughed and finally dropped his cigarette and his rough shoulders. "I'm just tired."

"Sure," I dragged out, unconvinced. "I'm kind of wishing we just went to a pub or something."

Alex looked down and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah. I'm wishing a lot of things right now."

My brows furrowed and I wanted to look closer at him but his hand and hair shielded his expression. "Like what?"

He put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the city. "I don't know. I think I'm just a little messed up right now."

I stepped forward, wanting to stand next to him, wanting to touch him. I moved close enough that he was forced to look at me. "What's going on?"

The browns of his eyes looked darker and shinier as if they had been glazed over. I wanted to touch his face and have him lean into my hand, but I wanted to hear what he had to say first. He fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket but I had him cornered. "Just in my head. The usual."

"About what? Me?" It might have been selfish to think so but he looked like he might cry while looking at me and I don't think I had felt that insecure in front of Alex in years.

He shook his head. "I don't even want to say it. It's so stupid."

"I don't want you to leave it in there."

His eyes darted in a million directions before landing on mine. "Just things are changing."

It took me a second to understand. It took me a gust of wind passing before I pointed to myself. "Me?"

He rattled his brain with the shake of his head. "I'm just in my head, Janie."

I grabbed his upper arm, forcing him to take notice of me. "Well, let me in. You know, I like when we talk." I smiled up at him and he released the hint of a smile, a sparkle behind his eyes. "I like knowing what's going on and what you have to say, what you're thinking. I don't get much of that while you're away and I think we both stew in our thoughts for so long that we're practically bored of it by the time we see the other and then we think we don't have to bother saying anything. But I've never heard about this and I want to know about this. I want to know about you if you let me."

A grin covered his face, so wide his teeth peeked through to wave to me. "What?" I asked. His smile just seemed to grow bigger and his eyes cast down on me. I thought he might kiss me but I'm glad he didn't, I didn't want to get distracted. "What?" I insisted, punching his leaning figure.

"Nothing," he said so cheerfully. I thought he might have taken something to cause this sudden change. He put his hand on my shoulder like he wanted to touch me but wanted to make sure we kept our distance. "I just love the way you talk. I don't know. Like the way you know how my brain works and you feel everything I'm feeling. I just...I love talking to you too. It's what I've always loved about you. I feel like I can't do this with anyone else. Just lay myself out and never have to worry. I think I forgot the feeling."

I wrapped my arm around his neck, closing the distance, and having us stand chest-to-chest. "We'll blame the jetlag."

"Sorry for being moody. I think it's an after-effect of prolonged homesickness."

"It's fine. I suffer from it too." It made me smile that we both considered each other home. It was cheesy and cliche but that didn’t make it untrue.

"Do you think there's a cure?" He moved closer and it took me that long to realize we hadn't kissed all day between the vomit and the fighting and the party. I should be put in jail for this.

I didn't kiss him right away. I hugged him first just to feel him, make sure he was there, all of him. "I might start with getting out of here."

Alex insisted, "Don't make me force you to leave."

"I wouldn't if I didn't want to. I'm craving shitty fries and chairs that squeak." And him. I really craved him.

"You love it when we play poor together."

"I love when we're together." We finally kissed at that point, waiting any longer felt like too much. He was right with me and I never wanted him to leave. If we kissed any longer we might have fallen off the side of the balcony. Together.

I dragged him through the apartment with me, trailing like my puppy but he was my loyal dog. His hand was clasped in mine and I kissed both Kaka's and Fennel's cheeks and promised to have dinner sometime soon for a more proper introduction to Alex. "Enjoy your Valentine's, love," Kaka said in his drunken impersonation of a British accent.

"You too," Alex said for both of us.

He put my fur coat on me and we left onto the sidewalk of the loved-up city. We decided to walk back in the direction of our apartment and land at a shitty bar along the way. We walked side-by-side like we were two anxious teenagers again. I suppose we had regressed in the absence of one another and the readjustment was more structurally unsound than usual.

"So, uh," I started, "you think I've changed too much?"

He threw his head back. "Don't listen to me."

I grabbed his arm, tugging on it. "No, I want you to be honest with me. None of this evasiveness."

Alex put his arm around my shoulder, pushing me into him. "I'm just catching up a little. You've been busy while I've been gone and I like that."

"But too much too quick?" Fennel and Kaka and the load of other people they had in their apartment could be too much. It overwhelmed me at times and I knew most of the people in the room.

We stopped at a corner, waiting for a light. He turned his head to look directly at me. "Just give me a bit of a grace period." He smiled so carefully. Not in a calculated way but to reaffirm his statement.

I smiled back. "I'd give you anything you want." It was probably too much to give a person, something I wasn't even willing to give to myself, but we were sharing a desperate kind of love. It wasn't the healthiest but he was the only person I knew would love me no matter what.

He seemed struck by this statement, unable to tear his eyes away to spot the green light in front of us. I pointed ahead at it but he didn't move his feet. He bent down and kissed my cheek firmly. I think he would have stayed there forever if I hadn't pushed him and insisted we cross the street before the light turned red again. He leaned down and whispered, "Ditto."

We stopped at The Scratcher in the East Village. It was Irish but akin to English by nature. It had exposed brick and when I asked the bartender for a Guinness (me) and lager shandy (Alex) he talked with me about England long after he had given me our drinks. The lighting was low and it was late but the bar was still full with mostly lonely hearts, save us and a few other couples.

Alex found us a table in the back corner by a group of rowdy men and for a bit it did feel like we were back home. "That's what I love about New York," I mused to him. "I find pieces of home here. I never found that in Los Angeles. Too deserty."

Alex leaned his cheek on his fist. His eyes looked tired but his smile stayed exercising. "You seem really happy here."

I shrugged. It was hard to admit these things. Like if I spoke it out loud it would cease to be true. "I guess, in a way, it feels like it’s something I did on my own. I know I'm not alone but...you know what I mean."

His eyes flashed down at the table and he sat up straight, leaning back against his chair. "Yeah. I know what you mean." He sipped his drink and I could tell he was going to say something once he washed his words down. "I really like it here too." The infliction in his voice was distracted as if he was thinking about 10 other things. I didn't know which one to ask about.

"Tour's almost over." I was ashamed that it flew by for me. Maybe because I was more occupied. I thought it should have felt like it dragged on forever. The way I used to feel about it. Granted it was shorter than the previous tours but I had never been this involved with Alex. We shared a home now, yet, his things—his clothes next to mine and the record collection collecting dust—didn't make me long for him, yearn for him. Perhaps, it was growing up. Perhaps, it was growing apart.

I circled my finger around my glass's edge. "I don't know if I'll be able to get off for the London shows."

"That's fine." He has always been so accepting. Like most things, it was a blessing and curse. Sometimes, I hated that he didn't put up a fight. He never told me what he desired, even with things like LA. It was a work obligation, not something he wished for. Maybe it's because I always wanted too much and Alex balanced it out by wanting too little.

"I got off work tomorrow. If you want to do anything."

He smirked. "I have one idea." Alex did desire some things.

*

I cut Alex's hair a week later. He complained of it being too long and I suggested he go to the barber and then he said I should do it. It was late but we were very happy.

We shared a glass of wine. I had Alex sit in the bathtub and I kneeled on the tile floor. We washed it first and then emptied the bathtub before I began to cut it. "What if you end up not liking it?" I questioned. I wasn't nervous. If anything I was power-hungry holding the kitchen scissors.

"I'll like it. It'll grow back either way. How bad could you fuck it up?” He chuckled before saying, “Last time you did this we broke up. Can't fuck up more than that."

His laughter induced me to join him. I sipped the wine before passing it to him. It felt very adult and I told him that. He said, "I could do this forever."

*

Alex experienced his first nor'easter blizzard at the end of February. I had experienced my first at the beginning of the month. He was quite excited for it. It was childish excitement like he was going to receive a snow day. I suppose his snow day was the fact that I didn’t have to go to work. I ended up getting Thursday and Friday off, which, well, did feel like a snow day.

However, it was cold. Like really cold. We ventured outside at the start of the storm to collect groceries and experience the snowfall. We got into a snowball outside our building’s front door before the snow turned to slush. Alex accidentally ended up hitting Russ Tillerson, who lived on the floor below us. He had a good spirit and laughed before shoving snow down Alex’s back, smushed in between his skin and his coat.

It took me a good few minutes to recover from laughter over Alex’s shivers. “It’s not fun,” he insisted, still patting snow out.

I hit his thick jacket with my gloved hand. “You’re not a good sport.”

He pouted and whined, “I don’t want to be a good sport. I want to be warm.”

I stroked his cheek, rubbing the icicle crystals stuck on my glove onto his skin making him wince. “Awwww. Poor baby. I’ll run you a bath when we get back.” He quite enjoyed that bath.

The days were fun but long. We watched TV and had sex for most of it. We ate sloppy like we were at a slumber party. We got high Friday night while watching Goodfellas. I ate a bag of salt & vinegar chips and half a pack of Chips Ahoy! Alex ate a whole pack of Oreos and drank enough Coke to shut down your organs.

“I’m sorry I’m so high,” I apologized.

He waved me off and sunk deeper into the couch pillows. “It’s fine. I wish we had more Coke.”

“We could do coke coke.”

“You have coke coke?”

“No. But we could get some?” It was candy in my new circle. Easy to obtain, sweet to do, horrible for you.

“Nah,” he rejected. “You’ve done it?”

“Yeah. I used to do it with…what’s his name…Robert.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry I’m so quiet,” I apologized again.

“You’re good.”

“Ray Liotta is so hot.”

“You’re so hot.”

“Mhmm.” My eyes moved away from blue eyes to Alex’s brown. He had sat up from his slump and was leaning on the armrest, observationally. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” He smirked, all-knowing.

“You know…how horny I get…” His smirk grew. “Don’t look at me like that!”

He curled his fingers, beckoning me to him. “Come here. Let me do you.”

I laughed and closed my eyes, prepared to succumb to sleep. His foot knocked mine. “What?”

“C’mon.”

He came to me. And, well, in me.

*

Alex left halfway through March, narrowly missing another nor’easter, but this time less severe. Opal came a few days later for work. She stayed at the Bowery Hotel, a few blocks east of me. I had walked by it a million times and always longed to go in. It was my second most desired hotel after the Plaza. 

She was there for work but apparently now had a boyfriend there too but that was all supposed to be obvious. Opal talked about things like you already knew everything about it. She told outlandish stories where she'd say, "You know how Charlie is" when I had never heard of Charlie before. Nonetheless, she was exciting and good company.

Alex was in Baltimore by the time I called him while drunk. Opal and I had gone to House of Yes and said yes to every drink along the way. Opal left with some guy who wasn't her boyfriend but it's okay because they had an open relationship, I think. Therefore, I was left outside House of Yes going home alone. I don't blame Opal for ditching me; the guy was hot and I insisted she go by saying I wasn't drunk, just tipsy.

I called Alex and lit up a cigarette at the same time. He picked up after 2 rings while I was still muffled by the cigarette in between my teeth. "Hiya, honey," I mumbled.

I heard laughing, either from him or the drunkards around him. He had been drinking too but not heavily. "Hey, sweetie." He moved away from the sound. I imagined him tucking himself away in the back end of the tour bus.

"I'm needy and I miss you," I whined.

His soft chuckling rang through the phone. "What's that mean?"

"It means I'm walking to the subway in Brooklyn." I scraped my heels against the cement.

"Ah. You and Opal have fun?"

"Yeah, but I'm drunk and alone. She's probably having sex right now. Everyone is having sex right now." House of Yes was a very sexual place in 2010.

"I'm not."

"Yeah,” I giggled. “I figured that one out. Could you imagine? You're on the phone with me having sex."

"What? Like phone sex?" He teased me.

I scolded him, "I'm not having phone sex in public. I meant like you were fucking someone else and on the phone with me."

"Why would I fuck someone else?" His tone was puzzled and I think he was drunker than I thought he was at the time.

"I don't know. I'm drunk. There's no logic to my thinking."

"I don't think I'll ever have sex with someone else. It'd be weird."

"I'd have sex with other people."

"Really?" He didn’t sound worried. Just curious.

"Yeah. Like George Clooney or something."

"I'll let you have Clooney. I’d fuck Clooney."

"Nah. He wouldn't settle down with me anyway."

There was a pause of silence before he expressed, "Miss you."

"Yeah. Me too."

He buzzed as if the words were sinking in. "End of the month and then I'm all yours."

"I like that idea. I've been hanging out with Opal so much I think she's starting to hate me."

"No. She just needs hot ass like the rest of us." It had been a very lonely month in the sex department.

"I'm not hot ass?"

"You're the hottest ass."

"Subway's here."

"Okay. Let me know when you're home."

"Yeah. Love you."

He hummed in agreement.

*

Alex returned at the end of April. We relaxed back into domestic obliviousness. That weekend, we went over for dinner at Fennel and Kaka's. We drank wine, ate fancy chicken, and played with Rooster. 

We sat at one end of their dining room table. Alex's nervousness had faded but he remained stiff, the obvious odd man out. We were laughing about work and Sally Condalteen's explosible haircut, all out of Alex's frame of reference. 

Fennel, observing this, gasped and said, "I just realized I haven't even heard the story of how you two met."

I turned to Alex, who was looking at me. I was like a mother training a child to speak for themselves. "You tell it. I've never heard your side of things."

"Okay. Uh, well, Jane had a class with Matt, who is the drummer of, you know, the band, and he invited her to our first gig. We sort of knew each other—small college and that kind of thing—but never talked. So, at the venue, I went up to her and called her the wrong name. The whole night I figured I screwed things up and made a fool of myself. Then, I'm outside smoking and she comes out and I thought maybe I wouldn't say anything but then I realized I'd probably never get another chance, so..."

"You went for it?" Kaka, a big woosy romantic, grinned.

"Obviously," I answered.

"What about you? What did you think when he came up to you?" Fennel asked me.

I shrugged. "Nervous. I think. After, terrified."

"Why?" He was like a psychologist desperate to get to the bottom of things.

I shrugged. I didn't want to reveal my whole emotional state to them but their eyes stared at me. "He knew me better in one conversation than anyone in my life. It's stupid."

"No!" Fennel insisted. "It makes me believe in soulmates."

"Oh, god," I exhaled exasperatedly, rolling my eyes.

Kaka swatted at me. "Don't be so pessimistic."

"I have to be. I'm a realistic woman." Or a doubtful one. I was a recovering romantic at best.

Fennel turned his bark onto Alex. "You think you'll marry her, Alex?"

"Don't answer that,” I quickly insisted. “They're wanting to cause trouble. They did the same thing with me."

Alex looked tempted but listened to my instructions. He turned to the two men. "How'd you two meet?"

When we left there was a drizzle of rain. Not enough to wet your clothes, but enough to huddle close to one another as we walked to the subway. Alex squeezed my hip, playing with the sculpture of the bone. "Do you want to get married?"

"We've talked about this." The whole subject made me feel awkward. I felt too young for the subject.

But then Alex said, "No. I mean, do you want to get married tonight?"

"It's midnight!" Deflection.

"Then, in the morning."

I shook my head. "No."

Alex looked like the air had been taken out of him. He readjusted and continued walking. "Okay."

"Maybe in like two years." Or two decades. The whole thing gave me body sweats.

"What's the difference between now and 2 years?" He didn’t ask it accusatorially. He was inquisitive.

"We're 24!” Frontal lobe and all that. “I can't tell if you're being serious now or not?"

He lightly shook his hair around. "Maybe a little. If you wanted to, I would. I'd do whatever for you. If I can give it to you, I will."

"Are you sure?" He worried me too much when he talked about giving things to me. He had always stretched himself and I was sure one day he would break.

He squeezed my hand. "What's going on?"

"What's going on with you? This overcompensation or whatever. I don't want you to give me everything. Keep some for yourself."

He looked at me for a moment, thinking it over. Then, he said, "Fine. Half to you then."

"40%."

"45%."

*

We went to Coney Island because I really wanted to ride the Cyclone. It was the first really hot day of the year. Unknown to us, it was also Memorial Day Weekend, which meant the beaches were open, which meant everyone, their mother, and their grandmother were at Coney Island.

Alex could wait in lines. I could whine to Alex while we waited in lines. He bought us enough tickets to ride the Cyclone and then go home because I was miserable in the heat and in line. But the line to get on the Cyclone was long and we had been standing there for what felt like hours.

"It's been 5 minutes," he noted. "We can come back another day."

"No," I moaned. "I want to do it today. I had it all planned out. I had planned to ride a rollercoaster today."

He laughed. "How do you plan to ride a rollercoaster?"

"You eat light so you don't throw up."

Alex tossed his head back in laughter. Suddenly, he snapped his head down with a concerned look on his face. "Have you not eaten anything today?"

"Well, yeah, I didn't want to throw up."

"God,” he scoffed, “no wonder you're in a horrible mood."

"I'm not in a horrible mood."

He gave me a look. He grabbed my hand and yanked us out of line. "Where are we going?"

"To eat. The Cyclone will still be there next weekend."

When we went next weekend, I loved the Cyclone and wanted to ride every ride there. I then threw up after the tilt-a-whirl.

*

I wrote a piece for The Paris Review in June. Alex sent it to what felt like everyone we knew. He attached it with a note that The Paris Review was located in New York and not Paris. He was very fascinated by that.

He had flown to London for the theatrical release of Submarine when the piece was published. It felt like a mighty contrast. The songs Alex had written for Submarine were what I would describe as the last box that had yet to be unpacked in our apartment. They were vulnerable but covered in metaphors I'm not sure anyone understood other than me. 

He had played them for me, asked for my opinion, revised, and played again. It was the first time Alex workshopped music with me since "Bigger Boys and Stolen Sweethearts." I always thought it was because he didn't have the band to work with. He has denied this and said that the songs were meant for me first, the movie was inconsequential. I'm not sure how true that is and how much Alex just wants to take credit for being a romantic or something. 

Either way, he wrote me a note before he left. He tucked it in my journal to make sure I wouldn't find it until he left. It read, There’s a piece of you in this, and in me.

My piece was fictional. It was about a girl who drinks too much coffee. It's hard to explain without it sounding stupid. 

I didn't write about Alex much. Opal found this weird when I had shown her my work last year. She said he was such a big part of me that it seemed bizarre I didn't write about him. My explanation, mostly, was the protective quality I held over Alex. His songs were shielded in forty different metaphors before you got to me. In my work, as evidence here, I name names, especially in these years when my name was so attachable to Alex’s.

I had shifted back to writing fiction because that's what most literary magazines like The Paris Review accepted. Of course, I'm not a girl who drinks too much coffee at all.

I liked the stability of the Condé Nast job but I had been indulging myself in fantasies of writing a book again. When Alex returned to New York, I told him this over lunch. We went to Lexington Candy Shop, which is a diner, not a candy shop. Another thing Alex wouldn’t shut up about.

I drank a malt shake (coffee-flavoured) and Alex had a Coke (the old-fashioned way where the syrup and soda water is stirred together, not the really old-fashioned way with coke like Alex wouldn't stop joking about) while we waited for our food. "I think I want to go for it."

Alex was contagious. You could believe you could do anything with that smile. "You should. You have one guaranteed customer."

"Well, you'd read anything I'd write."

"'Cause it's good."

"Don't butter me up."

"Come on, you know you're a great writer, Janie. You don't get into The Paris Review as a shite writer."

"Shut up about The Paris Review," I laughed.

I reached across and squeezed my hand. It made me squirmish. "I'm never shutting up about The Paris Review and that's because I read this really good piece about coffee in it and—"

"Stop talking about coffee too. You're making me stressed."

"Ease up. You'll be a New York Times bestseller by this time next year."

I stood up, running away from his stress-inducing words. "I'm going to the bathroom."

He crossed his arms. "That won't change anything."

We returned home. Alex put on a record and I decided to act like I was reading a book until Alex sat beside me. Then, I decided to makeout with him. Hormones. I'm not sure what his excuse was since he wouldn't stop grabbing my ass. "Are we about to have sex to The Beatles?" I asked as "All My Loving" sounded out through our apartment.

"Yeah. It's what John Lennon would have wanted." He pushed me down into the couch cushions. I was the meat in a sandwich between the two.

"I love this song," I mused against his lips.

"Good,” he huffed. “Let's fuck to it."

"Stop," I shrieked, laughing too hard to focus on his penis. I pushed him up off of me and sat up, collecting the trash that had accumulated on the coffee table.

Like any typical guy, he said, "Come on, Janie, I had to take care of this myself all week."

I knocked, "You masturbated all week?"

"I did other things too," he joked.

I was slightly fishing for a compliment but I was genuinely curious too when I asked, "What do you do it too?"

He laughed at my question. He scruffed my hair up. "You, you fucking idiot. What else? What do you think about?"

I shrugged. "I don't masturbate."

"Liar."

"I don't," I insisted.

"You told me you used to have a vibrator."

"Not anymore." I hadn’t thought to bring it through customs. It was tossed around the London to LA move.

"You don't masturbate? Why?" Alex was still stuck in that heightened sexual teenage boy phase. It made it so sex seemed like the only answer. He eventually grew out of this but it was an enduring fixture of his personality for a while.

I shrugged. "I don't like it."

"How can you not like it?”

"I get all sad after. I don't really do it anymore." It made me depressed for the whole day after. I would think about growing up too quickly and dying alone. Maybe that’s just how I was in the aughts. I didn’t give it up completely. Things would change soon after this conversation. I also got on anti-depressants. 

"Why?"

"Is it shocking that someone isn't thinking about sex 24/7?"

"Well, yeah.” I did think about it often but not like Alex, still-not-fully-matured did. “I'm not good enough to masturbate to." Now, he was fishing for compliments.

I stood up from the couch and walked to the garbage bin. "No, it's more like...the other way."

He turned to me with an open jaw. "I'm that good in bed?"

"Don't get an inflated ego on me. I'll refuse to have sex with you if you start boasting."

"I won't boast. I'll just show off." He pulled me down, stuffing me between him and the couch. He made a great effort into "proving it." In a way, it kind of ruined it. I mean, he had this smug look on his face the whole time and he was so into the thought that he was good at it that he started to not be good at it.

"When you get off your pedestal, sir, can you actually fuck me?" I asked.

He seemed to snap out of it and realized he was inside me and not himself. "Fuck. Sorry."

Later, around "Devil in Her Heart," Alex laid his head on my stomach. He'd move around and kiss around my stomach, sometimes rising up to my breasts, but mainly hanging out around my belly button. 

I sighed from exhaustion, lust, and resignation. "I have to get glasses."

Alex laughed against my liver. "You can see fine. I think you've got a couple decades before you have to worry about glaucoma."

"No. The doctor told me I have to get glasses."

Alex seemed to find this really funny. "Are you serious? You're gonna look so geeky."

"Gee, thanks."

He kissed my diaphragm repeatedly. "I like nerds. Are you going to have to wear them all the time?"

"No, just at night. I've been struggling in the dark."

"You're gonna get night vision. Like Batman."

I got the glasses about a week later and I walked back into the apartment wearing them. Alex looked up from the couch, placed his hand over his heart, and said, "Everyone must hate you."

I tossed my keys in the little dish by the door that Alex had made it at a ceramics session that we did together about a month prior. "Enlighten me," I said with a laugh.

"You're just fucking gorgeous, Janie," Alex decided. He looked back down at his book like I burned his eyes.

I kicked my shoes off. "Careful. I'll get a complex."

"What? Like you'll finally believe me."

"I believe you," I promised. I had grown confident in myself or at least confident enough in Alex to believe he wasn't lying to me. "Or I'll try to."

I sat down beside him on the couch and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Here," he pointed his finger to the middle of the page, "read this sentence."

I rolled my eyes but obliged. "'So they went on for a good while, talking now of their cards and now about me, as though I were not in the room'—how long do I have to do this for?"

He smashed his lips against my cheek. "That's all." He returned to his book and I ordered us dinner.

A few days later, we were trapped inside due to the pouring rain. I was working on a review for work and Alex was reading. He had a cigarette in his mouth but it was unlit. I think he was going through the motions but couldn't go outside to smoke it and I refused to let him smoke indoors. 

My feet poked at the side of his body. Every five minutes or so, I'd poke my toes into him. He'd laugh, whether provoked or ticklish, it was an acknowledgment of our presence with one another. 

Thunder pounded through and Alex squeezed my foot to get my attention. I looked up at him through my lenses. He smirked, which I knew meant he was thinking something foul. "Can I fuck you with your glasses on?"

I don't mean for this year to seem particularly nasty but we did...you know...do it all the time. There wasn't much else to do. We were together all the time, we would talk over dinner, share this alone time together, and then I or Alex (usually Alex) would hit a point in the evening where we might as well just get on with it. Besides, this instant was pretty important. You know, with the thunderstorms. And my glasses. Alex really likes that part.

*

Alex and I went to an antique store in Dobbs Ferry because Fennel, who had been vacationing in Mykonos for the last month, needed me to pick up a statuaries from this rare antiques store. We decided to make a day trip out of it. Not there was much to do in Dobbs Ferry.

We shared headphones on the way up. Our moods were transactional through the iPod. Alex had this habit of scrolling his finger back and forth on the dial. It would make this scrolling noise, but I kind of liked that noise so I never stopped him. 

We walked the town's aqueduct for a bit. It had felt like the city was on fire but just a little north felt cooler. Maybe it was the fresh rain with that dewy smell. Alex's jeans ended up getting grass stains on the butt of them because he sat down in the wet field.

At lunch, we shared a stack of pancakes and Alex let me eat all the bacon. "I can't remember the last time I had a proper breakfast," I said as I chewed into the syrup-soaked fried batter.

Alex chuckled. "It's noon. I think it's more like lunch."

"Shush," I forced him out. I looked around and observed the tiny diner we were in. It's exactly what you'd imagine for a small town with men having coffee at the counter and mother and child having lunch. "I like it here."

Alex nodded with a smile. "You like a small town."

I shook my head. "Just for a bit. Not forever."

*

At the start of August, Matt visited us for a week. He slept on the couch and ate all our food but we all had a great time. Not since Barnsley had just the three of us hung out, especially for an extended period of time. Matt and I—just the two of us—hadn't hung out in close to eight years. Not that we ever were best of friends but it's weird how he had adapted more into Alex's friend than my friend. Nonetheless, he still felt like a brother to me. Or maybe brother-in-law.

Alex went out to the store one evening, leaving just Matt and I and whatever movie we were semi-watching. Matt sat up from his slumped back state, placing his beer on the coffee table. "I'm gonna have a smoke. You gonna join me?"

I giggled. "Oh, Matt, you know just the way to my heart."

We travelled up to the apartment building's rooftop. It was sparse besides a picnic table and a grill. The Fourth of July party had been held up there. Alex and I went for the free food but had to endure several Revolutionary War jokes. Matt sat on one side of the table and I sat on the other, an ashtray between us.

"I can't remember the last time we smoked together," I commented.

Matt lit his up before handing me the lighter. "At least not cigarettes," he laughed. "It's funny. This is all we used to do."

"Used to? Speak for yourself." I knew Matt didn't smoke that much anymore. Not like Alex and I who upheld equality with one another on who was going to get lung cancer first. We smoked enough to decide we'd both probably get it under the same time. Depressing romanticism.

"It's weird to think of a time before you and Alex got together," he said, flicking the ash.

I fanned the smoke away from my eyes. "Yeah. It's hard for me to imagine."

"And you guys are good and all that?" His tone was traced with suspicion or maybe I was just misplacing it there.

"Yeah." He nodded but stayed silent and I grew worried that I was being left out on something but I didn't want to touch it. "And you? Are you good?"

He chuckled. "Yeah. I'm good, Jane."

I joined him in laughter. "Good."

The roof door opened and Alex walked through. "Thought you two ran off."

"We kind of did. We made it as far as the roof," I told him as he walked over to us.

He sat next to Alex and grabbed a cigarette from himself. "Am I joining one of those fabled smokes?" He asked.

"What?" Matt questioned.

I explained, "When we were younger, and used to sit out on the kerb with one another. I call them Fireside Chats like FDR."

Matt laughed. "I was drunk for most of those. Memory is a little fuzzy."

"You're not alone in that." I stubbed at the cigarette and rested my head on my palm. "I don't want to drink tonight though."

Matt raised his eyebrows. "Pregnant?"

"Shut up." I rolled my eyes and wondered if Alex had told Matt about the scare back in winter. "I have work tomorrow."

"Oh," Matt uttered, "little Janie's all professional now."

Alex nodded. "Yeah. What losers the rest of us are."

"Yeah. If Jane of all people can settle down—"

I interjected, ready to fight, "I was not that horrible." Alex and Matt only met me with a stare causing another eye roll from me. "I'm going to bed."

Alex and Matt stayed put and I assumed they were going to have one of their own Fireside Chats. "We'll try and be quiet," Alex told me before I pecked his lips.

I walked over and placed a kiss on Matt's cheek. He slapped his hand over the cheek, wiping it down. "Ew. You slobber like my mum."

"God. What a baby you are." With that, I went downstairs. I'm not sure what time they went to bed but when I left for work the next morning, they were both dead asleep. Not even the sound of me dropping my coffee arose them.

*

Alex was writing something. I woke up and the red light of the clock blared out, the time reading 4:34 AM. I rubbed my eye, scrubbing the dream out of me. His pen moved across the page and he was propped up against the headboard with his notebook tilted under the soft light coming from his small bedside lamp. 

He felt my movement and turned to me as I flipped onto my side to look up at him, his eyebrows knitted. "Did I wake you?"

I shook my head against the pillow. "I don't think so. Why are you still up?" I held the tip of his elbow to keep in touch with him.

"Woke up about an hour ago. Couldn't fall back to sleep." He was scratching his pen up and down across his page, just making lines. 

I flipped onto my back, roughing my hands through my hair. "Probably because it's so fucking hot in here." Our landlord had turned the AC off a week ago when it seemed like it was finally getting cold until the temperatures started shooting back up this week. "I might take a shower. I feel so sweaty." I sat up, throwing my legs off the bed. 

I could hear the smirk in his voice. A light chuckle as he said, "Let me know if you do."

My phone rang. "I bet it's Stacey," I told Alex. "She still doesn't understand the whole timezone thing."

"She's 18 and she still doesn't know about timezones?" Alex questioned.

I sighed as I tied my hair up. "Let me rephrase. She doesn't care about the whole timezone thing."

"Ah," Alex said as I picked up the phone.

I moved into the bathroom, preparing to start the shower as I talked to Stacey. I sat in the bathroom, on the toilet seat, for about 10 minutes before I moved back into the bedroom. "Shower time?" He asked him with a grin that could kill.

"No." I shook my head walking back over to my side of the bed. I threw my phone down on the bed and picked at my fingernails. "My dad had a heart attack."

I could hear Alex closing his notebook but didn't look up. I wasn't sure how to deliver news and make eye contact at the same time. "Is he okay? Are you okay?" He crawled across the bed and stood up beside me.

I dropped my hands and moved past him going to our dresser. "Yeah. No. He's fine for a guy who just had a heart attack. I mean, he'll live and all that." I hadn't realized that I started pacing back and forth across our bedroom. I would stop at our dresser but then I would keep moving.

"Good. Now. Jane. Sit," Alex instructed me.

I listened. He was my guide. I sat on the edge of the bed and tried to figure out what I was doing. "I should go back home."

"Okay. I'll look for flights." He moved for my laptop, sat in my backpack on the floor. 

I stayed on the bed. "Should you?"

He looked up at me. I was looking at his eyes but I didn't even realize what was going on. I hadn't processed anything. I was busy facing the fact my parents could in fact die and that I also was not immortal. Alex wasn't sure what to do or what I wanted him to do. "Do you want me not to go?"

I shook my head. "I'm not sure if I should go."

Alex moved toward me on his knees. He stopped in front of me and leaned over my knees. "I think you should. At least for Stacey."

"Right." I’m not sure if I went for Stacey. She would have Greg and Harper, even my mother, for comfort. I’m not sure if I felt an obligation to go too. It seemed cruel not to show up after a medical emergency but since the move to America, I hadn’t seen them other than during Christmas. They had never visited me. They rarely called me. It made me think that if I didn’t show up they wouldn’t be that shocked. But I knew I wasn’t held to the same standard as them and having a heart attack is much more serious than anything I had going on.

We got into a taxi at some point but I think I was still trying to figure out if I was still in a dream or if we were in fact going to JFK Airport. Alex must have packed the suitcase because I don’t remember doing anything. I became a functioning human being around when we sat at our gate for about 15 minutes. The flight wasn't boarding for another hour. Alex had gotten me a coffee and a glazed donut for Dunkin' Donuts. He got a Boston Kreme and coffee for himself.

He sat with his hand on my knee as I scarfed down my donut as a form of something to do. I wiped my fingers on the napkin and leaned back in my chair with the warm coffee in my hand. "I broke my wrist when I was 10," I told Alex. I could tell he wasn't expecting me to speak. "I sat waiting for my mum to pick me up for over an hour. They finally decided to call my dad and he showed up in 15 minutes. Five minutes less than his drive from work to my school."

"I honestly wasn't expecting the story to go that way," Alex confessed. There’s a million untold stories from my childhood that Alex had never heard. They were tricky for me to go about.

I breathed a laugh, relieving the tension from both of us. "Neither was I. It was right after Tommy and I guess a broken wrist was one step away from being dead." Alex squeezed my thigh and I thought about Tommy. I hadn't thought about him in a while.

We sat together for a moment before Alex bit into his Boston Kreme. The cream smeared over his nose. I laughed, which pleased him even if I was mocking him. “It’s all over your face. You look like you can’t properly feed yourself.”

We boarded the flight and arrived in London a little after 6 PM. I fell asleep after take-off and didn't wake up until the jolt from landing. Alex stayed awake the whole time.

We took the train out to Bath and Greg would pick us up at the train station. Halfway through the train ride, I said to Alex, "Thanks."

He pushed my hair back and stroked my cheek. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I've never been to Bath."

I laughed into the palm of his hand. "I'm glad this is working out for someone."

Visiting hours had ended about an hour before we arrived. The family report was that he was fine and Greg drove Alex and me back to the family home. We had dinner together where we mainly talked about my father. Alex and I went to bed after in a stripped-down guest room.

*

We had been in Bath for two days when Alex finally asked the question what I knew he had been thinking since we arrived. "Can we go on a drive?" My car had sat in my parents' garage since I drove it down when they moved. I'm sure they hated it being stuffed in their driveway but Alex was insistent on keeping it so I insisted to my parents to not get rid of it. For some reason, they didn't.

I didn't know much of Bath. Stacey told me she sometimes went to Henrietta Park with her friends so I decided we would drive there. Alex fiddled with things. The radio, the window, the glove compartment. He was trying to check if everything still worked. He missed this car more than I did. I rarely thought about it other than the remarks my mother would make over the rare phone calls that it was still sitting in the garage. 

Alex sighed and leaned back in the passenger seat. "I love you."

I chuckled at the affection but replied, "Love you too."

He looked over at me. I could feel the stare but my eyes remained on the road. "Just getting to do this with you. I love it. I love that we've been in each other's lives for so long."

"Me too."

"We've been together long enough that when I sit here now I'm reminded of how much I loved you then. And, you know, how much I still love you now. More now."

My eyes hurt. I don't think I had cried since we'd been there. I felt overwhelmed by it all. But always him. I couldn't look at him for safety and emotional purposes. I loved him for being there and for being there for such a long time. He had always been my best friend. Even when I had just met him. Like fate. Soulmates or something. "Alex. I have to drive."

He chuckled. "Don't wreck the car now." He kissed my cheek.

*

a/n: well, there we go. i'm very into writing this right now so hopefully have another part soon. i'll probably do a one-off piece before. we shall see...

[lovegalor333]

fresh start

part eight (chapter 22-24) previous part • next part

word count: 6.8k

content warnings: mentions of su*cide homophobia self-h*rm

Lily

Kelsey, Kayla and I had met for lunch and were sat together in the cafeteria waiting for Paige and the girls to finish their workout.

"How many follow requests do you have now?" Kelsey asks peering over my shoulder as I scroll on my phone.

"I think it's at like twelve thousand." I say as I navigate to Instagram to check, "Twelve thousand, one hundred and sixty three." I confirm.

Paige tagged me in a story for the first time this morning and after the pictures and videos of us after the game came out, of course people have been curious as to who I am. I have a private page so all people can see is my profile picture and that induces enough anxiety I know I'm not ready for them to see my whole feed just yet.

"You're going to be famous! Have you seen the TikTok edits?" My roommate asks, practically bouncing in her seat.

"Yes, but have you seen the comments?" My stomach flips at the memory of last night.

I stayed off of social media for as long as possible after the game just to avoid the initial reaction to Paige and me but as soon as I went on TikTok, I was inundated. Despite everyone telling me to not open the comments, I did and I couldn't stop scrolling once I started.

Of course there were nice comments too but the ones that stood out, the ones that have stayed in my head have been the nasty ones. A lot of people have enjoyed telling me how ugly and disgusting I am, how I don't deserve Paige and how she could do so much better.

"Girl, you have to ignore those. They're coming from literal children that are jealous. Do you know how much hate I got when I first started hanging out with the team?" Kayla chimes in.

"Does it get any better?" I half laugh, half huff hoping her answer is yes.

"Once they realise you're not going anywhere, it'll ease up. It's part and parcel of WAG life unfortunately, someones always going to want to be you." Kayla says and I'd be lying if I said the haters weren't planting seeds of doubt in my mind about whether I'm strong enough for this.

"I couldn't workout multiple times a day! I don't know how they do it." Kelsey lightens the mood as she nibbles on her cookie.

"Me either." I agree and gulped down the remainder of my water hoping it would ease the sudden headache that I had.

I got up to refill my bottle and was hit with a random wave of intense dizziness. If it wasn't 1PM on a Tuesday you'd think I was drunk.

"Your neck is kinda red Lils." Kayla says pointing towards my neck as I joined her and Kelsey again.

My hand instinctively goes to my neck and its warm to the touch and slightly itchy and that's when I realise what's happening.

"Shit!" I exclaim grabbing the empty salad box from the table in front of me and I scan the ingredients list frantically.

"What's happening?" Kayla asks leaning towards me.

"I think I'm having an allergic reaction. Actually...I know I'm having an allergic reaction." I breath out in jagged breaths as I start to panic but also because I was most likely going into anaphylaxis.

"Holy fuck!" Kelsey exclaims, standing up, "Where's your EpiPen?"

"In my bag." I tell her and I suddenly feel extremely sick and as if I'm about to faint.

My body temperature is rising and I feel disoriented and confused.

Kelsey hands me my EpiPen and I administer it they way I was taught. Removing the blue safety cap and quickly jabbing it into to my thigh, but my lightheadedness only increases and I know for sure I'm about to faint.

Paige

The doors to the gym swing open and smack into the wall causing us to all turn and see who had made such a loud entrance.

"Kelsey?" I say confused as Lilys best friend hurries in the gym, "I know I said I'd meet y'all and one o'clock but I'm not that late." I laugh glancing at the time and seeing it's only ten past the hour.

Kelsey shakes her head as she reaches me breathless, "It's not that. It's Lily, we had to call 911."

It feels as though I've been hit by a truck, my knees go weak and almost buckle beneath me and I felt vomit rise in my throat.

"What?!" I exclaim, scrambling to grab my phone from the floor to check if I'd missed anything, "What happened?"

"She had a reaction. We think she ate something containing nuts, the ambulance is on the way." Kelsey explains and I look towards my teammates almost as though I was stuck in place, unable to move.

"Go!" Nika urges throwing me the t-shirt she had over her shoulder because I was dressed in just a sports bra and shorts after our workout.

I catch the shirt and hurry after Kelsey out of the gym.

"Text me!" Azzi calls after me and I don't have time to reply, I'm just focused on getting to Lily as quickly as possible.

The usual quick walk from the gym to the cafeteria felt like it took hours even when I was running. I finally see the ambulance as Kelsey and I rounded the corner and the sight of the vehicle calmed me slightly knowing Lily was in safe hands.

"Lily?" I called out as we jogged into the cafeteria, although I don't know why, I didn't expect her to respond. From what Kelsey had said, she was in a bad way.

"Oh my god, Lily." When I see her, she's already laid on a stretcher, an oxygen mask secured over her mouth and nose, her is sleeve rolled up and there's an IV connected to her arm.

Her eyes are in an inbetween state of half opened and half closed, she looks as though she's just falling asleep or waking up.

"Is someone coming in the ambulance?" The paramedic asks looking at all of us around Lily.

"Me." I say on impulse.

"I'll follow in my car." Kayla says gathering her belongings.

I follow behind the paramedics wheeling Lily to the ambulance and pull the shirt Nika gave me over my head.

"Is she going to be OK?" I timidly ask the paramedics as they load Lily into the ambulance.

"She administered the adrenaline quickly so she'll be fine. With anaphylaxis, there can be a biphasic response, a secondary reaction, so it's best to be at the hospital in case that happens."

"Paige..." I hear Lilys low, muffled voice call out my name.

"Hey, I'm here." I say tenderly reaching for her hand as the ambulance begins to drive.

Her eyes are still heavy and hooded and if I didn't know better, I'd think she was drunk or high. She tries to pull down her oxygen mask, "Keep that on pretty girl, it's helping you." I say moving her hand away.

The journey to the hospital was quick and mostly silent apart from my words of encouragement to my girlfriend. Her eyes would flicker open every now and then and she'd squeeze my hand, communicating without words.

We were put in a room as soon as we arrived and multiple doctors and nurses bustled in and out tending to Lily.

I listen intently to each thing they said. Lily was being treated with more adrenaline, oxygen and fluids intravenously. She would make a full recovery.

"We'd like to keep you here for a few hours, Miss Kent. Just to monitor your condition and ensure there isn't a secondary reaction. Your blood pressure is increasing so you should start to feel normal again soon." The nurse says to Lily before excusing herself, leaving us alone.

"How are you feeling?" I ask walking over to Lilys bedside.

She pulls down the oxygen mask and I let her this time, "Better." She says, her voice weak and childlike.

"Good because you had me scared me for a second." I say smoothing down her hair.

"I was scared too." She tells me and she begins to silently cry, tears running down her face. "I've always had a pretty good handle on my allergy, this made me feel so...out of control."

"Oh Lily," I say wiping her tears as they fall, "accidents happen baby. You handled it exactly the way you should have. I'm proud of you." I tell her wrapping her in a hug as best I could while she was laid down and I was stood over her.

"I'm usually so careful with checking ingredients but I must have missed something." She continues and pushes herself up slightly so she's sitting.

"I know, but you're OK Lily," I reassure her, my hand cupping her cheek, "you can't blame yourself, things get missed sometimes and we can't help that, we just have to deal with it and you did."

"I don't even remember what happened clearly. I just remember my head hurting so bad and then all of a sudden I was on a stretcher with this mask on and you were there, with no shirt on." She weakly jokes raising her brows cheekily, "I think that's what brought me back to life."

I laugh, "Still got a sense of humour, I see. I worked hard on these abs, glad to know they're saving lives."

"Maybe if you flash them again, we'll get out of here quicker."

"Or maybe you're blood pressure will raise too much and we'll be here all night, so relax please."

Lily was discharged from hospital four hours later, with two new EpiPens and antihistamines that she needed to take for the next few days.

Kayla drove us all back to campus and dropped me off with Lily and Kelsey at their apartment.

"Thank you, K." Lily says as we climb out of the car.

"No worries, Lil. Get some rest." Kayla replies and waves us goodbye.

"I don't think I can even make it to the apartment, my legs feel like jello." Lily says holding onto my arm in support.

"I don't don't spend hours in the gym for nothing." I say crouching down in front of her so I could give her a piggyback ride, "Hop on."

Lily climbs on my back and I carry her into the apartment block and into the elevator. We follow Kelsey through the front door and I lower Lily onto her bed.

"What would I do without you?" She says reaching out for me.

"Don't even think about that, you've got me." I say and we lay side by side on her bed in comfortable silence.

"So how about seeing those abs." Lily says after a while, her hand trailing up under my shirt and I laugh.

"Anything for you."

˖ ���𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

Lily

I was finally starting to feel better after my allergic reaction a few days ago and just starting to get back to normal again after taking time off work and away from classes to recover.

I've always been extremely careful with my allergy, taking extra care when I eat out to make sure everything is safe and up until now I've managed to never have such a severe reaction so in a way I felt like I have failed. I couldn't keep myself safe. I couldn't do the one thing that really matters and it scared me. What if it happens again? And even worse, what if I'm alone when it happens? I was lucky to have my friends by my side this time. I was used to being in control and being so out of control wasn't something I wanted to experience again.

I force myself to stop thinking so negatively because that never ends well and I walk out of my bedroom and into our living room. All my roommates were out so I was home alone, not that I minded much.

Every surface was home to a beautiful bunch of flowers, gifted to me by my friends, people I worked with and of course Paige. Paiges bouquet was the most extravagant and took pride of place in the centre of our dining table. I smiled as I passed the full vases feeling very thankful for my friends and girlfriend.

I had held off calling home and telling my parents about my hospital visit because I knew it would turn into a lecture of some kind but Thanksgiving was coming up and I needed to know our plans because I'd be going back to Boston for a few days.

I settled myself into the couch, pulling a fluffy blanket over the bottom half of my body and pressed call on my moms contact. The dialling tone rang and rang and rang until I was eventually met with her answering machine. I decided to try my dad and I just as I thought he wasn't going to pick up either, at the last second he did.

"Hello, Lily." My dads voice spoke stern and serious as always through my phone.

"Hi, Dad. I tried to call Mom but I got her voicemail. Is everything OK? I wanted to talk to you both." I say.

"Your mother is here with me now."

Weird.

"Oh, why didn't she pick up?" I ask confused. If my mom wasn't busy then why had she avoided my call?

I hear my moms muffled voice through the phone but I can't quite make out what she is saying but her tone didn't sound happy.

"Dad?"

"Lily, listen. You're mother has been seeing stuff online. About you. You...and a girl. Another girl."

My entire body freezes as my dad speaks and I feel my heart rate spike.

Why did this sound like a problem?

"Right..." I say wanting my dad to continue with whatever point he was trying to make.

"You said you wanted to leave Boston for a fresh start and it seems nothing has changed." My dads words hit like knives.

"I-I left for a fresh start because I tried to kill myself. I didn't come to Connecticut for conversion therapy. I came to move on from everything that happened." I croak out as my mouth has completely dried up and it feels as though my throat is closing.

My mom continues to speak but I still can't make out her words, "You speak to her then, Jackie." My dad says as I hear my mom huff and the phone being passed over.

"If you left to move on then why are you still living the same way? With this- this Paige girl! And so publicly! It's like you want the entire world to know. The entire world does know! It's all anyone asks me about. It makes me sick." My mom shouted at me to the point of breathlessness.

I felt blindsided. I was so confused. My parents had been fine with me and my ex, they were happy for me to come to Connecticut.

"I don't understand where this has come from. You had no problem with me and Mia-"

"We didn't know about you and Mia until it was over and Mia...she's turned her life around. We thought you would have too." My mom continues her rant and all my emotions begin to blend into one, there are tears streaming down my face but I've never been angrier.

"What do you mean 'turned her life around'?" I ask although I know exactly what she meant.

"She's fixed. Whatever you had with her was just a phase and rightly so! She has a handsome boyfriend now and is very happy." My mom solidifies my assumptions and I feel sick to my stomach.

"And I'm very happy with my beautiful girlfriend." I say trying to steady my voice to not make it obvious that I was crying.

My mom lets out a ridiculous child-like cry as if I'd just died.

"Lily that's enough. You're making your mom upset." My dads voice comes through the phone again and I laugh in irony.

"I was calling about Thanksgiving plans and to tell you guys I had a bad reaction and was in the hospital." I spit, anger laced in my words.

"She's not coming back here for Thanksgiving. Everyone knows!" My moms voice rings out clear and unforgiving.

"Jackie-" My dad begins to reason but I end the call before I hear anything more.

I didn't need to hear anything more.

I sit lifeless on the couch just staring ahead so many thoughts and feelings swirling around inside of me but simultaneously feeling completely numb and void of emotion.

What had just happened?

I moved robotically back to my room, my phone still clutched in my hands as if I was waiting for my dad to call me back and apologise for what had been said but I knew all too well that that wouldn't happen. I knew my parents too well. I was stupid to believe they were OK with who I was in the first place but did they really think that coming to Connecticut would somehow change who I loved?

I stood in my bedroom contemplating what to do. That phone call had changed everything. My mom had made it clear that I wasn't welcome at home. Home. Could I even call it that anymore? Just as things were beginning to plateau, just as I was starting to genuinely feel happy again, it felt like someone was playing a sick joke on me.

I felt the overwhelming urge to cope with this in the only way I knew how to cope with anything that hurt me mentally and that was to feel it physically.

Paiges words from weeks ago played on repeat in my head as I searched my room for something to hurt myself with.

"If you ever, ever get the urge to hurt yourself again, please come to me first. You're not alone anymore, I promise you."

I began to get frustrated as my frantic search was proving pointless. I had purposely not brought anything to Connecticut that I could use because I was determined to stay clean and not relapse but that felt like an impossible task right now.

I moved my search to the kitchen, I knew there'd be something there.

"If you ever, ever get the urge to hurt yourself again, please come to me first. You're not alone anymore, I promise you."

I opened random drawers as if I hadn't lived in the apartment for months and knew exactly where everything was but my head was a mess and I couldn't think straight.

I finally found the drawer I'd set out to find, filled with utensils.

"If you ever, ever get the urge to hurt yourself again, please come to me first. You're not alone anymore, I promise you."

My vision was significantly blurred by tears now, I blinked rapidly to clear the haze and reached into the drawer. My hand shook as I picked up the small but sharp knife.

"If you ever, ever get the urge to hurt yourself again, please come to me first. You're not alone anymore, I promise you."

I knew deep down this wasn't the right thing to do. This isn't what I wanted to do, but when you're so used to doing something and so used to it being a release, it becomes addictive. A habit that becomes unbreakable.

"If you ever, ever get the urge to hurt yourself again, please come to me first. You're not alone anymore, I promise you."

I wanted to drop the knife and call Paige and ask her to come here right now and just hold me and tell me everything would be OK but my hands wouldn't release there grip and my brain was telling me Paige had better things to do.

Paige

I had almost finished studying for the evening, my eyes were tired from focusing on a screen for so long and my body ached from today's workout but I continued typing. My phone was switched to Do Not Disturb but as it rang from its place on my nightstand, I knew it was Lily because she was the only contact that could override my settings.

"Hi, pretty girl." I say and smile knowing that hearing Lilys voice would quickly diffuse any negative feeling that had built up during the day.

"Paige," Lilys voice came out hoarse and strained and my smile immediately faded, "can you come to mine...please?" She asks.

"Yes. I'm on my way." I say without a second thought, leaving my laptop open, music playing and just grabbing my keys.

"Thank you." Lily replies so quietly that I can just about make it out over the sound of my own rushed footsteps.

"What's wrong?" I ask as I leave my apartment and rush down the stairs to my car. I could tell by Lilys voice alone that something was wrong and every second of silence intensified my concern.

"Lily?" I question when she doesn't reply.

"I-I just need you." She says, her voice breaking in the process.

"OK, I'm coming baby. I'm in my car. Stay on the phone." I say as I start the engine and begin the short drive to Lilys apartment.

I try to ask questions that could at least hint at what was wrong but Lilys responses were short and didn't tell me much. I could just tell that she'd been crying or was currently crying and I stepped on the gas to get to her as quickly as possible.

"I'm outside Lily, let me in." I say once I reach the door of her apartment building. I hear her footsteps shuffle along the floor before the familiar buzz of the door being unlatched.

I take the stairs two at a time, any aches from today's workout long forgotten and once I reach Lilys floor and see she's stood in her open doorway, only then do I end the call.

I was right, Lily had been crying, her eyes were red and swollen and her cheeks were stained with tears, "What happened?" I ask, concern laced in my voice as I approach her, my arms instinctively wrapping around my girlfriend, holding her close.

Lily steps back still in my arms until we're stood in her living room and the door closes behind us.

"Lily, I'm worried."

"I-I don't know how to say it." Her voice is muffled against my chest.

"You can tell me anything." I say pulling away so I can look in her eyes as I reassure her, "You know that right? You can tell my anything."

She nods, "I thought I was doing well. I was doing well." Tears immediately fell as she began to speak.

"What happened?" I'm aware I sound like a broken record but I need to know what happened to get Lily in this state.

"I spoke to my parents. I was going to tell them about my reaction and see what our plans were for Thanksgiving but before I could do any of that...they- they attacked me over the phone. They've seen pictures of us online. They thought me being gay was a phase. They thought coming here would 'fix' me. Apparently my ex is 'fixed' and has a boyfriend now and I'm not welcome at Thanksgiving. I make them sick." She rambles out inbetween choked sobs.

At some point during that, we'd made our way to the couch and I sat beside Lily, her hand clutched in mine.

"Lily...what the fuck. I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this." I say wiping her tears as they slip down her face.

"I didn't know what to do Paige. I was thinking everything and nothing all at once. I couldn't process anything, I still can't. I-" She cuts herself off, unlinking her hand from mine and holding her head in her hands.

"You what Lily? What did you do?" I ask scooting to the edge of the couch, trying to get her to look at me again.

"I know you said to call you. To come to you but I couldn't think straight my head was a mess."

She doesn't have to say anymore for me to understand what she's getting at.

"Did you hurt yourself?" I ask tentatively.

Keeping her head in her hands, she just nods.

"Oh Lily." I say and wrap my arm around her shoulders pulling her close to me again. I press my lips to her head in comfort as she cries into my chest.

"I need you to show me baby."

"No. No way." Lily says and jumps away from me as if I'd just given her an electric shock.

"I need to make sure you're OK. I need to check incase you need to go to the ER." I say softly reaching out for her again.

It takes some persuading but Lily finally allows me to check her arm. I wince at the sight but don't make it obvious to her. I use the apartments First Aid box to clean and bandage the wound.

"There you go." I say once I'm done and Lily quickly rolls down her sleeve. Her eyes didn't once leave the wall directly in front of her and her movements were robotic.

"I'm sorry." Lily says as I return to her side after putting the First Aid box away.

"For what pretty girl?"

"For all of this mess. I'm a mess and you have to deal with it. I'm sorry for that." She says and I swear I hear my heart break.

"Never apologise to me, Lily. I love you and I'd do anything for you. You mean everything to me and I just want you to be OK."

"I don't think I'll ever be OK, Paige. Every time I try, I think I'm doing good then something happens and ruins it."

"Nothings ruined Lily. You're trying, you try everyday and I'm so proud of you. This is just a lapse and they happen and it's OK. We dust ourselves off and try again. Self-harm is an addiction and it's not easy to overcome but you're not alone. I'm glad you called me. I'm glad I'm here with you now. We can get through this together." I tell her now looking directly into her eyes, one hand stroking her face.

"I love you so much." She says leaning into me, wrapping her arms around my waist.

"I love you." I reply wrapping my arms around her too.

I take Lily to bed not long after and she lays her head on my chest and I stroke her hair rhythmically.

"I think that's it with my parents." She says after a prolonged silence.

"For real?" I ask, wanting Lily to talk more and not wanting to put words in her mouth.

"Yeah. If they can't accept me for who I am, I won't change myself to make them happy and I won't live a lie. Coming here and meeting you has been the best thing that's happened to me in a long time and I won't let nothing or nobody ruin that." She says.

"I really am sorry, Lily. I'm sorry your parents said all those things. You deserve so much more. I'll give you what you deserve. I'll give you the world."

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

Paige

The season was in full swing and it would be and understatement to say I was feeling it. After just two games, one win, one loss, I was exhausted. I worked ridiculously hard over the summer to make sure I was fully recovered to ensure I had an injury free season. What I had failed to realise is that my body forgot what it was like to be playing for almost forty minutes straight but I was living my dream, getting to play basketball at this level has been something I've strived for my whole life so I'll never complain.

We were playing Maryland today at Gampel and the team was due to meet at the venue in thirty minutes so I was picking up Lily an afternoon coffee and would drop it off to her before I had to go and warm up.

She had had a difficult few days, between the allergic reaction, horrible phone call with her parents and relapsing, I'm surprised the girl was even able to go into work today. She was strong and I admired her for it. I just wish she would open up to me more and let me be there for her in the way I want to be. I felt inexperienced in this relationship, I've never had someone close to me suffer with their mental health like Lily does so I've been talking to my friends and reading article after article so I know the right thing to do.

The common consensus is to just keep making it abundantly clear that I'm there for Lily whenever she needs me and I already do that and will continue to.

The line in the cafè wasn't long so it didn't take me long to order and recieve Lily's usual - an iced soy milk latte - and be on my way to her office.

I knocked lightly on the door, "Come in." Lilys voice came from the otherside soft and light, a huge difference to what it has been like in recent days.

I peep my head around ther door and see Lily is alone in the room, "Hi, pretty girl." I say and walk inside and her facial expression changing from one of deep concentration to a soft, sweet smile. "Hi, P." She says getting up from her seat and greeting me with a hug.

She had her glasses on and I got lost in her appearance for second. Lily rarely wore her glasses, she only needed them when she was working at a computer so she looked different but I wasn't complaining.

"I brought you coffee." I say presenting her the drink and her smile grows, "Thank you, it's definitely needed." She says taking a sip immediately and moaning at the taste, my cheeks flush at the sound but Lily's oblivious to her effect.

"I don't know how you're drinking an iced drink in the middle of November." I shake my head as lean against Lilys desk.

"Iced coffee is superior, whatever the climate." She says matter of factly and I can only smile at her little quirk.

"How are you feeling today?" I ask more seriously.

Lily nods, "I'm OK. Been better." She says.

"And you'll get there again." I tell her reaching out to take her hand and pull her closer to me.

"I know. Just weird I'm an orphan now." She tries to joke but her eyes tell a different story.

"Your parents might come round. You're their daughter above everything, I'm sure they love you. They won't want to lose you."

"Maybe," She sighs, "but I won't ever put myself around people that can't accept me for who I am and on top of that, abuse me for it. Until they apologise and are able to just support me, I don't want to see them."

"I understand. You have to put yourself first and I'll be right by your side." I reiterate what I've been telling Lily from the beginning, she's not alone.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you." She says leaning into me and I take this as my chance to wrap my arms around her and hold her close, taking in her signature floral scent.

"You deserve everything good in life Lily and if I can contribute to that, I'm happy." I say to my girlfriend.

"You better contribute to the win today. I wanna see nothing but threes." She smiles up at me, lightening the conversation.

"You ask and you shall receive." I say moving my hands to her waist and turning us in one swift movement so Lily's body is now pressed between mine and the desk behind her.

"You know," I say moving back slightly letting my eyes trail down her frame, "you look good at this desk and with these glasses on. Very professional."

"Yeah?" She smirks, her hand reaching out for the chain she bought me around my neck.

"Uh huh. Shame you're not wearing one of those little skirts you have." My hand grazes her thigh over her trousers.

"A terrible shame." She agrees, shaking her head.

"You know for next time." I tuck her hair behind her ear and press a quick kiss to her lips.

"I should get to warm ups." I say pulling away realising the time.

"Ugh P," She huffs, "you really know how to get me flustered and then just leave." She pouts, her cheeks visibly rosy.

"Just imagine how boring life would be without me." I smile and blow her a kiss from the doorway before leaving.

Lily

Watching Paige play basketball was quickly becoming my favourite thing to do. Even though I was technically working, I was enjoying getting to watch my girlfriend pace up and down the court, shooting the ball into the basket and making blocks that didn't seem possible until she executed them perfectly leaving not only me, but the entire crowd in awe.

I couldn't help myself from jumping to my feet and cheering each time the team increased their lead.

"How are these questions for post game?" Marcus asks me during halftime, angling his laptop towards me.

I skim over the typed out questions and nod my head encouragingly, "They're great! You always have the perfect mix of basketball and personal questions that get the girls talking." I compliment.

"Thank you, Lils. I try and make it as relaxed as possible."

"This is perfect to end on." I say pointing to one question in particular.

'With Thanksgiving break approaching, what's something you're thankful for?'

"The next newsletter going out is Thanksgiving themed so I thought it was a good fit." Marcus says just as the girl filter back onto the court for the next quater.

As I took pictures and videos of the third quater, I thought of Marcus' question and what Paiges answer would be. She was almost always picked to do media and with the game she was having I knew it would be a no brainer.

Knowing Paige, I was certain she would mention her family, the team and God. Paige showed immense gratitude everyday in everything she said and did and she was humble when most people in her position would be the exact opposite.

My suspicions were verified post game when it came to Paiges answer however I was also left in a state of shock when she said something I could have never guessed.

"With Thanksgiving break approaching, what's something you're thankful for?" Marcus asked as I stood next to him, my phone in my hand, recording just the audio as that's all that was required.

"The same as every year, I'm immensely thankful for my family and friends - everyone around me that pushes me to be the best version of myself. I'm thankful for my team, that I get to play with some of the best people everyday and we get to live out our dreams together. I'm especially thankful for my health this year, I'll never take that for granted again and none of that would be possible without my belief in God and his belief in me." Paige pauses and glances in my direction and I'm smiling not only at her perfectly articulated answer but because of how well I know her. "And to wrap it up, I'm thankful for the person I have by my side - my girlfriend. Her selflessness and strength inspires me everyday." Paige finishes, her eyes still locked on mine.

What did she just say?

"Thank you, Paige and again, congratulations on the win." Marcus concludes the interview and I press stop on the audio recording.

"Paige." I breathe out, lost for words.

Marcus slips away quietly, leaving us alone, "What? I couldn't list off what I'm thankful for without mentioning you." She says smoothing over her ponytail.

I'm smiling so big my face begins to ache, "You realise that's going in the newsletter? You realise what that means?" I ask insinuating the obvious but not verbalising it.

Paige had never spoken on her sexuality or relationship status publicly, ever. We post on socials openly now and don't hide our affection in public but a label has never been mentioned, we could just be close friends if you didn't know us personally.

"Yes." Paige says simply.

I was of the mindset that no one needed to 'come out'. Straight people didn't so why did anyone else but I know in Paiges world, things were a little different but maybe I was wrong for thinking Paige preferred keeping things inconspicuous and lowkey.

I also only had my previous relationship as a comparison and that was kept a secret until the very end and I was always made to feel like the world would crash and burn if anyone found out. I wasn't used to being loved so openly.

"I love you so much." I say to Paige but I wish there was a word bigger than love.

"I love you too. And I've been thinking about Thanksgiving." She says and my mood drops slightly at the mention of the holiday. I'd be spending it here on campus, probably alone.

"What about it?"

"I want you to come home to Minnesota with me." She says shocking me for the second time in mere minutes.

"Paige...Thank you, but I couldn't- I couldn't just come and impose on your family like that." I say genuinely. There's nothing more that I'd love than to spend Thanksgiving with the person I'm most thankful for but I'd feel like an intruder.

"Lily, are you joking? My family loves you. I've already spoken to them about it, you're more than welcome and actually, Drew can't wait to see you. You're not going to crush his little heart, are you?" She says dramatically.

"Paige do not use your little brother like that." I frown.

"I'm not! He for real can't wait to see you." Paige insists.

"I'll think about it." I pacify as some of the team start to exit the changing rooms, freshly showered.

"Think quick and let the answer be 'Yes Paige, I'll come to Minnesota with you'. I'm going to clean up, meet you out front in fifteen?" She says and I nod in response.

I use the time Paige takes to shower to pop back to my office and upload the last of the behind the scenes storys from todays game and send the audio recordings to myself so I can transcribe them tomorrow.

"So...Marcus told me what Paige said in media." Kayla says slipping into my office.

"Did he now?"

"Yep! You have her so smitten it's adorable." She says smiling.

"It is pretty adorable." I say relishing in the feeling.

Kayla and I chat for a few minutes before I pack up my stuff and go to meet Paige.

"So?" Paige says with her brows raised as I approach her and I smile at her eagerness.

"Yes Paige, I'll come to Minnesota with you." I repeat the words she wanted to hear and watch as her lips curve upwards and open to reveal a huge grin and she picks me up and spins us around.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[doctorweebmd]

so there's this post floating around about like, feeling like an outsider even in a group of outsiders and i almost reblogged it being like

'aha i do that'

except. like. i know exactly why that happens, and its 100% my fault

i just have trouble maintaining relationships because i'm a poor communicator. that's been the case since high school. i dont really initiate conversations or remember to text or call people. its not from a place of indifference or anything like that - i'm sincerely an 'out of sight out of mind' kind of person.

i can not talk to and not see someone for months or years but my feelings for them don't change. it doesn't bother me if people dont check in on me or don't hang out with me or don't text me. i still like them. unfortunately that is not how 99% of the population communicates. people (rightfully) assume that when someone doesn't initiate conversation or hang-outs or doesn't check in on you, that they don't care about you. for me, thats not the case at all. like if i like you and consider you my friend, you are ALWAYS my friend. i would do anything for you and would be more than happy to talk/see each other/support you/etc. its just the day-to-day communication that i really struggle with. but thats how most relationships form - regular, consistent communication.

i've gone through periods of extreme guilt for this where i sincerely try, and make new friends, and re-connect with texting and phone calls and hanging out more often but inevitably something happens, i get busy or i forget and suddenly all this time passes and people think i dont care anymore. unfortunately that's not the case whatsoever - time is kind of abstract to me and i dont understand that while my feelings don't change, others feel more distant or abandoned.

and i've really hurt people in my life like that. friends that i've known for many years from high school/college are a LITTLE more forgiving because they know i'm just 'like that' but still. it does hurt people. like i haven't spoken to my dad in probably at least a year - not because i dont love him, but because of that same reason. he doesn't reach out and i forget and it just steamrolls because he gets hurt, doesn't reach out because he thinks i'm intentionally 'ignoring' him, and i continue to forget, and its just this viscous cycle. i haven't talked to my grandparents in months. my mom knows better and texts me every week or so, but it still hurts her that she has to reach out so regularly. she also plays these games where she sees how 'long' it takes for me to remember to reach out. a lot of people in my life have done that. its like i'm being tested on something without ever being told its a standard test, ya know? i'm always destined to fail it because i dont know how long is too long. at which point will the time and distance be unacceptable? i still dont know the answer.

and i think it makes me come off as a really heartless and callous person. its made me kind of keep people at arms-length because i know i'm not capable of being a part of most people's lives. i have perfectly normal and pleasant relationships with my coworkers and all that, but i'm generally not close with them. and i can see the confusion, because we hang out and i'm pretty normal or whatever and we have fun and then they don't hear from me for months and they're like 'uhhhh.... okay? so i guess you don't like me?'

i do. i just have different relationship maintenance standards than others i guess. so i just overall avoid being around others just because i know i'll disappoint them. it is what it is but it really is sad, in a way.

[whiskeyswifty]

.

[sluttyten]

🥶

[jarofstyles]

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings

Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her. 

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious. 

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 

Good thing he was willing to work for this. 

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

—— 

Harry was coming over again. 

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

[ln4swiftie]

Slim Pickin’s

☕️ ln4 x bestfriend!reader

☕️ where your childhood wish becomes a reality

☕️ warnings - none !! just some fluff and kisses

☕️ word count 1.5k

☕️ a/n : so i heard sabrina carpenters song that’s gonna be on short n’ sweet and then this was born two days later !! enjoy <33

“Maybe I'm gay.”

your best friend, lando, looks at you, confused. “what?” he asks through a chuckle.

you were fed up. The number of douchebag men that you have in your phone and not one of them has ever made it to a second date. That fact makes you want to rip your eyeballs out.

“maybe god just forgot my gay awakening and that’s why i can’t find a boyfriend! maybe i just don’t like men.” you throw your head back on the couch in lando’s living room in monaco.

“i doubt that he just forgot,” lando giggles

you knew this wasn't true. you knew you liked men and only men. because you definitely liked the man sitting at your feet, and you have since you were both 15. you’ve just never ever told him.

And you planned to keep it that way.

you groaned. “No, Lando, you don’t get it! it’s slim pickings around here. half the men in my phone don’t even know the difference between there, their and they’re!” quiet giggles from the man sitting across the couch from you filled the room.

Lando knew you were only joking, yet he can’t help but feel bad at your lack of dating life when he has models flocking toward him at all hours of the day. granted, the girl he wants isn’t even a model. In fact, she’s sitting right in front of him, sprawled out on his couch, complaining about boys. but she didn’t know that.

And he planned on keeping it that way.

—

Throughout your week-long stay in Monaco, you decided to set yourself on a mission to meet a guy and go on a date. On the fourth day, you were successful!

During a coffee run while lando streamed, you met a guy who asked you out to dinner the following night. You were so excited since given your history, the chance of a guy asking you out was close to zero. When he asked you even scanned your surroundings to make sure he was talking to you specifically.

you were getting ready in the guest room of lando’s apartment, since you were staying there during your visit.

while applying your lip liner and gloss, you heard a knock on the door. “Hey, what are you thinking we do for din- woah.”

the curly haired brunette stared at you in awe. you were always beautiful in his eyes, yet right now he was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world. it then clicks in lando’s head that you’re not dressed for him. “Why are you all dressed up?!” he teases, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“oh i have a date!” you hum with a smile.

he looks at you confused, like he doesn’t believe you fully. leaning against the doorway “what happened to slim pickings?” he pokes, crossing his arms atop his chest.

“can’t a girl meet a guy and go on a date? gosh.” you scoff, slightly annoyed that he’s teasing you over this. you’d hoped he would be happy you’re crawling your way out of this slump of being single. it was one of the things you loved about him — how he always treated you with nothing but kindness and support.

“Fine, fine, whatever. have fun, i guess” he turns around and ducks into his office, closing the door harsher than you expected. Just as you make a mental reminder to have a talk with him about it, your phone chimes — your date is waiting in the lobby.

lando watches you from the cracked doorway of his office, as you do a final check of your makeup in the mirror of the mud room. he thought you looked beautiful and was silently raging at the fact he isn’t the man you’ve dressed up for tonight. he’s liked you since you both were young kids running through the suburban bristol streets while your parents sat on the patio of his childhood home socializing over cocktails.

You were always there to support him through his racing career and you were the first person he called after McLaren chose to extend his contract. While he doubted himself and everyone told him to leave, you told him to follow his heart and do what felt right to him. Now, he’s a race winner with the team he calls home. To him, it’s always been you. You have always been the girl he pictured his life with.

But his gut always told him you’d never return these feelings back to him.

—

your date went horrible. All the guy did was talk about himself. and once he found out you were friends with some celebrities, the date had ended there for you. although you got some free drinks and a meal out of it. it only made you fall further into this loneliness.

the elevator dings, signaling you’ve arrived at the floor of lando’s apartment. you stumble to lando’s door. the alcohol takes effect and makes you trip into the door, startling Lando who’s standing just on the other side, waiting for you. He throws the door open, finding you standing there with slightly messed up hair and a frown on your face.

“c’mere,” he says quietly, taking you to the couch. sat on the coffee table in front of you, he gently took your foot into his lap. you feel his soft touch as he gently removes your heels from your feet. sending shivers down your spine.

“It was horrible. all he did was talk about himself,” you say frustrated. “I also accidentally let it slip that I knew you, oh, and don’t even get me started on his horrible taste in just about everything.”

He helps you up, taking you to the bathroom and sitting you down on the counter. He rummages through your toiletries bag, before taking out your makeup remover. As he starts removing your makeup, you study every inch of his face, counting every freckle and watching the way his jaw muscles clench as he focuses.

god he was beautiful.

you feel a lump in your throat as tears begin to fill your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Lando asks, halting his movements.

“it’s just- i'm pretty sure every good man in this world is either taken or dead and its not fair.” you say letting a stray tear fall. in your head you knew you were being dramatic, but the three glasses of wine you had to get through that date have taken full control of your emotions.

Lando chuckles lightly, folding with the used makeup wipe in his hands, he looks to you “well, i’m neither of those things.” he says softly, almost as if he’s upset.

fuck. shit.

“no, no, wait, lando- i didn’t mean it like that, you're a great guy. an amazing guy actually.” you say quickly. he smiles at you as you continue to ramble “i mean, shit, i’d date you in a heartbeat-“

“what?”

you slap your hand over your mouth. holy fuck, did you really just say that? and Lando not saying anything just solidifies that he doesn’t return your feelings. Lando is staring at you like you’ve got three heads coming out of both of your ears.

you start to panic “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that, forget i said any-“ you’re cut off with the feeling of lando’s lips crashing into yours. his hands gently cup your face as he kisses you. you instantly return the kiss. The world slowly falls away leaving just the two of you. your hands moving to find home in his curl, slightly pulling on them. Lando releases a quiet groan. His hands work their way down your body to rest on your hips, gently pulling you closer to him.

Lando pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “I have literally loved you since we were 16.”

you smile at him, “i love you, too.”

The two of you find yourself in Lando's bed watching your favorite movie, wrapped up in eachother. Lando turns his head to look down at you resting on his chest. Admiring your sleepy state as you attempt to stay focused on the movie he gave up on watching. How can he focus on anything else when you were sitting next to him?

the girl he's wanted since the two of you sat on his porch on a late summer night, eating the ice cream his mother tried to hide. giggles filling the air while you pointed out constellations to lando, chatting about where you wanted to be in 5 years.

“Well I hope to be in formula 1” Lando admitted. “You'll be there, I'm sure of it.” you added giving lando a smile he swore was brighter than the stars sat above.

He gasps slightly “don't move”

you freeze as he reaches a hand to your cheek, softly swiping a fallen eyelash holding it in front you.

“Make a wish” he breathed.

You shut your eyes tight, emphasizing the wish you were making before taking a big breath and sending the eyelash into the air. Followed by the sound of giggles coming from the brunette, he asks what you wished for. “If i tell you it won't come true!” you gasp faking offense.

who knew that after 8 years, your wish would finally came true.

🤍☕️.

AYAYAYAYAY ALL DONE !!

big thank u too my lovely friend who edited this and helped me <33

[dwaekkicidal]

Who are you calling a baby?

˚ʚJeongin x Fem!readerɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: You decide to join Stray Kids in teasing their maknae, your boyfriend, about being a "little baby." Let's just say he doesn't take very lightly to it.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.6k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, mean!dom Jeongin (🤭), rough sex, degradation (calls u stupid and 'dirty girl'), traffic light system brought up once, hair pulling (once), spanking, a sprinkle of dacryphilia, creampie, no protection (don't be silly, wrap ur willy also pee after sex), aftercare mentioned but not thoroughly, think that's all?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: I was actually gnawing at the bars of my enclosure trying not to make this into a "sir/daddy" thing (I should've. it prob would have been so much better bc i hate this grrr)

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

You laugh along with Chan as he and Seungmin sit beside you, the three of you watching as Hyunjin lets his cuteness aggression loose on Jeongin. Ruffling his hair and throwing his whole body weight onto the poor maknae. They're taking one last break from their dance practice, deciding to go a few more rounds before heading home.

"You'll always be our baby, Jeongin~" Han sings to Jeongin, to no particular rhythm. Jeongin laughs but desperately crawls out of Hyunjin's grasp, seeking protection from a spot on the floor between your legs.

"He's just a babyy! My lil' baby boy~'' You tease at him, smiling fondly before pinching his cheeks. He looks up at you and pouts cutely.

"I'm not a baby.."

"Yes you are! You're our cute little baby~ You prove my point when you make a face like that!" You laugh, brushing his hair back to make it more presentable after Hyunjin's attack before grabbing his chin and squishing his cheeks to prove your point even further. A few of the guys around you laugh and join in, poking and tickling at Jeongin while throwing in comments here and there about him being their Baby Bread, him laughing as he tries to protect himself from their attacks.

Eventually the 7 of them stand up and walk towards their spots on the floor. Your boyfriend sits on the floor a little longer, catching his breath as he looks up at you, staring into your eyes with a blank expression. Your eyes catch his and you tilt your head down at him, smiling. He stares for a few moments longer, expression unchanging, before quickly standing up and walking towards his dedicated spot. You think nothing of it and pull out your phone, mindlessly scrolling on a random choice of social media and getting comfortable.

After some time of hearing the same part of a song on repeat, you feel a pair of eyes burning into you. Looking up, you see the boys discussing a mistake somebody made. As you scan the boys, you meet your boyfriend's gaze. His eyes boring into you with another unreadable expression before he narrows his eyes towards you and turns back to the mirror, getting into position. You furrow your eyebrows at the back of his head, staring at him a little longer in hopes that he would turn around and explain himself. Is he upset about the teasing? Surely he knows I'm just messing around.. Once you realize that won't happen you sigh and shake your head, turning your attention to our phone once again. Assuming that he would get over this "fit" soon.

Not long after this, the guys all agree to call it a night. Jeongin opted to stay at your place for the weekend since you both had the next few days off. "I just want to spend some sweet time with my girlfriend," he explains to his hyungs. But the tightening grip on the back of your neck tells you otherwise.

The ride to your apartment was quiet aside from the radio. His hand never left your thigh and occasionally squeezed when he felt your gaze on him. Before you know it, the both of you are walking into your bedroom

"Are you okay? You've been super quiet for the last few hours." You ask, setting your bag down on the dresser and taking your (his) sweater off, landing it on the edge of the bed. You take a seat as he turns to you, his arms cross and his expression blank asides from the bump you see on his cheek. His tongue poking his cheek out in what you can only assume is annoyance or anger.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know.. you've been super quiet since the little teasing fiasco earlier.. Are you actually mad?" He raises an eyebrow at the way you enunciate the word 'actually,' but chooses to stay quiet and frowns down at you.

"Oh my gosh.. you're actually upset?" You laugh, standing up and taking a step forward so that you're in front of him "Baby...." You start as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you, planting a kiss on the corner of his lip before continuing, "You know I was just messing with you, it's all playful banter. You're my baby and I'm yours, there's nothing wrong with that. I'm sorry that you got upset." You giggle, showering him in kisses before you feel his arms unfold and reach behind you to embrace you.

Melting into his embrace, you litter more kisses on his face, waiting for a response. When you still don't get one, you pull away slightly to check on him only to be met with a smile. One that doesn't quite meet his eyes. One you thought was genuine until one of his hands trails into your hair, grabbing a tight handful, and tilting your head back forcibly. Your eyes screw shut as you wince, whimpering when you feel his hot breath on your neck.

He plants a few kisses silently before pulling back and smirking, loosening his grip so you look at him again. "What happened to all that laughing? Fox got your tongue?"

You pout and open your mouth to say something before he pushes you forcefully onto the bed. It catches you off guard and you take a second to try to even your breathing as he leans down, pushing your back to meet the bed and hovering over you. His lips ghost around your jawline and your neck, occasionally leaving wet kisses and small marks and rendering you breathless.

"C'mon baby... keep running your pretty little mouth.." He says, one of his hands by your head moving to slowly trail down your body until he meets your waist. He caresses your hips softly before continuing, "My hyungs aren't here to protect you anymore. So let's see if you still think you're oh so funny.." You let out a gargled noise as he bites down on your collarbone, moaning lightly as his hand moves to unbuckle your jeans, pulling them off you in one fell swoop as he pulls away from your neck.

When you don't say anything he lands an open handed smack on your thigh. "Why is the 'little boy' like me taking control? Use your words like the big girl that you swear you are."

You whimper at the sting on your thigh, but look him in the eyes and suddenly it's your turn to pout. "I said I was sorry baby, you know I didn't mean it like that." He lands another smack in the same area, not liking your response. He rubs the area to soothe the pain, but also as a warning of what's to come.

He leans forward and the other hand grabs your chin, making you keep eye contact, before leaning forward, "Let's see how far acting coy will get you. Sit up."

You feel your stomach tighten at his demandingness, but you listen and sit up on shaky arms. He pulls your shirt over your head before pulling off his own, throwing both behind him without looking.

"Color?" He asks, as he pushes your legs apart with his knee.

"Green" you whisper back, breathing heavily as he bends down to place a kiss on your stomach, pulling your underwear from under your ass and down your legs. You feel him smirk against your stomach, "Of course it is... dirty, dirty girl."

He trails small kisses down your stomach at an agonizingly slow pace. Eventually he reaches your pelvis, he swats at your thigh when your leg twitches in anticipation before meeting your eyes and speaking up again. "I want your eyes on me at all times. No closing your eyes, no looking away. Okay?"

You nod your head and watch as he shoots you a crooked smile, making sure to hold eye contact with you before leaning in and placing a kiss directly on your clit. Immediately two of his long fingers softly rub along your folds, gathering your wetness before you feel them slide against your gummy walls, quickly finding the spot that has your legs weak. He makes a good pace off the bat; not too fast and not too slow. Your eyes still stare into his, and you let out moans as he fingers you while licking his lips. He leans down further and places kisses on your inner thigh and uses his free hand to undo his jeans, pushing them down with his boxers just enough so his cock bounces out. He strokes himself a few times and tilts his head at you teasingly as he makes a particularly hard thrust. His gaze moves between your legs as he adds a third finger and frees his other hand to massage your clit.

With his piercing gaze not on your face, you quickly forget your previous promise to keep your eyes on him and you throw your head back. You let out a particularly loud moan as your eyes close and your legs shake, struggling to stay spread. He suddenly pulls his hands away from you and lands a harsh slap to your clit, pushing your legs apart when they clamp shut from the sudden sting. You squeal loudly in surprise and your head jolts forward, your eyes opening to look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and tears pricking your eyes.

"Do you not know how to listen? Or are you just trying to piss me off again?" He grumbles, frowning at you as he pushes your knees to your chest. He holds you in place as he lands another smack to your cunt. "I was gonna be nice about it and spoil you, but since you don't know how to follow basic instructions, we'll do this my way. Be good for fucking once and hold your legs for me, yeah?" He spits out, pulling his hands away when you shakily hug the backs of your knees. He rubs his tip against your folds repeatedly before dipping just the tip in.

" 'M sorry-yyyy!" You try saying before he cuts you off and bottoms out. He groans and leans forward, towering over you and placing his hands beside your head, planting himself above you. He pulls out all the way to the tip before locking eyes with you and smiling smugly at you, "Yeah? You're sorry? My pretty little baby is sorry?" When you open your mouth to respond he suddenly thrusts all the way into the hilt, pulling a loud moan from your lips as you furrow your eyebrows, closing your eyes yet again.

"Aww, baby... What am I gonna do with you.. Too cock-dumb to follow basic instructions…” he laughs at you before finding a fast pace, one that has you seeing stars as he pounds into you repeatedly. The angle you're in makes him hit all the right angles constantly while still making him go so deep. So much so that you feel him hit your cervix a few times, making you whimper as you look up at him with teary eyes.

You moan out his name as your grip on your legs tighten, already feeling so close after cumming not long ago.

"Don't worry baby, sit there nice and pretty for me and I'll take care of you. I'll let it slide just this once and 'll fuck you nice and stupid, okay? Though.. I'm not so sure it will be any different than how stupid you normally are?"

"Pleaseee" You whine out, a few tears finally falling at the mix of his words and the constant stimulation. He laughs at you and moves one of his hands to your mouth, tapping your lips to let him in. You open your mouth enough so that his thumb enters your mouth, and you knowingly suck on his fingers. Once he deems it wet enough he pulls his thumb out and moves it to where you two meet, messily rub circles onto your clit.

"Jeongin... 's so goodd" You cry out at the extra stimulation, nails digging further into your legs.

He leans back and his free hand reaches forward to smear your tears into your cheek, "Stop crying baby, you can take it. mmmmmm.. You will take it. You owe me for being such a bitch earlier and trying to embarrass me in front of my hyungs."

You moan loudly and throw your head back, tilting it slightly to look up at him, "Fffuck baby! I.. I promise, I swear I didn't mean it like-" Before you can finish he grabs your face and pulls you forward, "C'mon, babe, I know you can make up a better excuse than that. Or are you too cock-dumb to use your pretty little head? Hm??" He teases, ending his sentence with another slap to your clit, one that makes you loosen your hold on your legs.

Your eyes gloss over and he smirks, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss to your cheek before leaning back and continuing his brutal pace. When he feels you grip him stronger he knows you're close and he pushes further, in order to get you there faster. "You gonna come? Huh, pretty little thing?" You nod and moan mindlessly as you look up at him, mumbling out mindless pleads before he pushes your knees into your chest again and chases both of your highs.

"Then cum, stupid baby. Milk me dry, okay? Be a good girl baby." He says out of breath, as he leans forward and pulls you into a kiss. One of his hands comes down on your ass and it's enough to send you over the edge. You're squeezing him like a vice and it's enough for him to finish next. He breaks the kiss to groan, pulling away to stare where the two of you meet, watching his cum get fucked out of you with each thrust. Once he rides out both of your highs, he leans forward to leave hickeys in your collarbone.

After a short time, he pulls out slowly and softly lays your legs against the bed. You sigh at the empty feeling, but are thankful that your legs can stretch out.

"F-Fffuck.. Jeonginnn'' You whine, feeling even more cum drip out of you. He laughs and leans forward to pull you into a kiss, softly smudging his cum along your folds with his fingers before leaving a final, much softer, slap. He leaves soft kisses all over your face as you catch your breath, mumbling an 'I'll be right back' before disappearing into your bathroom. You faintly hear the water running and he quickly returns, wiping you down with a cloth that was soaked with warm water. You finally catch your breath e as he throws the cloth onto the pile of your clothes from earlier, deciding to put them in the hamper later.

You look up at him and give him a sex-drunk smile, giggling as he lays next to you before pulling you into his side. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest one of your legs on his hip, and he massages it to sooth the muscles as his other hand draws circles into your back. He holds eye contact with you for a moment before pulling you into a kiss.

"You okay baby?" He asks, pulling away to smother your face in kisses as he gives you time to respond.

"Amazing, actually... " You mumble out, pulling him in for another kiss.

"Good... Rest up baby, you're gonna need it." He says between kisses and lands a smack to your ass. He laughs in your face as you look at him with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. He grinds against your core and you realize that he's hard again, making your eyes widen a little.

"Oh, my love.... you thought we were done?"

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.

series masterlist

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[evie-sturns]

wrong room - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you recently met nick through social media, he invites you over to his house for the night. while walking to the bathroom you accidentally enter the wrong room, walking in on matt masturbating.

contains: smut, caught masturbating, soft!dom matt, swearing, light choking.

a/n: this fic will contain different pov's between yours and matts, but it will have a little text so you will known when.

—----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐----------———

i met nick just the other month at taras party, we instantly clicked resulting in him inviting me round today. i've been hanging out with him around his house his whole day with one of his triplet brothers, chris, i think.

(y/n's pov)

i lean against nicks countertop as he has a poor attempt to cook, "nick- nick no!" i laugh, grabbing the bag of flour as he repeatedly hits it with his elbow while mixing the dough.

"oh god, my fault" he says with a a grin as chris walks over, he spanks the cookie dough which is inside the mixing bowl, earning a slap from nick.

"okay- i'll give it a go." i decide to finally step up, nick steps out of the way as i look into the bowl, its somehow completely unmixed even after hes mixed for a solid 5 minutes.

i look over my shoulder, my eyebrows knit in confusion as i lock eyes with nick, "i'm actually not sure how i managed that."

"its okay baking isn't for everyone." i tease, he scoffs as chris laughs, "how do you mix for 20 minutes and all the ingredients look the exact same as when we put them in the bowl." chris says,

nick mocks him with a finger in the air and a nerdy tone, chris punches his shoulder.

i step away, "do you guys have a bathroom?" i ask, "nah we shit in the woods." chris says.

"yeah, we use the bark off the trees to wipe then bury it with our hands." nick adds on, unlocking the backdoor and opening it for me.

i go to walk out slowly, chris grabs my shoulder and spins me around, "down the hallway, and the last door on the left."

"oh-" i say with a loud laugh as i walk down the hall, i hear the metal of the bowl collide with the wooden floor from behind me "shit!" nick says.

i get to the end of the corridor and look to my right, the door is shut. i grip the handle and open it,

my eyes widen as i instantly grow hot, the third triplet, matt, is laying across the bed. hes wearing a green shirt and a necklace hangs loosely around his neck. his sweatpants are tugged down to his mid thighs as he's repeatedly running his hand up and down his length with his head thrown back.

(matts pov)

"fuck- fuck fuck-" strings of whimpers exit my mouth as slick noises fill the room, i brush my fingers over my sensitive tip before continuing to run my hand up and down my cock, the cold metal of my rings dragging against the veins.

"oh my god 'm- please please-" i whine, squeezing my eyes shut as i throw my head back against my headboard. my ears ring,

i dont even register the click of the door opening until i hear a feminine gasp "shit-" i hear.

my eyes spring open as i abruptly stop all hand movements, she stares at me in shock. her face is white and her mouth is open, after a few seconds she scrambles out of the room with several 'sorry's'

i sigh as my cheeks grow red, i didn't even cover myself. my hand is still wrapped around my length.

i stand up out of bed, my legs weak. i'm still hard but i've completely lost my train of thought, too embarrassed to think about finishing now. i hear the bathroom door slam shut, meaning that this girl has now found the bathroom.

i pull up my sweatpants, grabbing hand sanitiser off my bedside table and clean up my hands before pulling up my sweatpants.

"matt!!" i hear nick call from the kitchen. i open the door of my bedroom before making my way up the corridor.

(y/n's pov)

i unlock the door to the bathroom before walking back up towards the kitchen, the 3 triplets are there.

"we got the cookies in the oven but it turned to fucking liquid as soon as we put 'em in." chris says, pulling out the chair to the dining table and flopping down on it,

"this is matt, i don't think you've met him yet." nick says, matt and i lock eyes and he sticks his hand out for a hand shake.

i hesitate before shaking his hand, "formal ass greeting" nick says, elbowing matt and sitting down at the table, "sorry- 'm matt" matt says, running a hand through his hair "no worries, im y/n!" i say chirpily

all four of us gather at the table, matt is directly opposite me and i can feel his eyes lying on me, we keep making eye contact as chris and nick speak with each other about god knows, hes painfully attractive i have to admit, his tatoos, rings, awkward persona.

"its almost midnight, do you wanna start headed to bed?" nick asks me, i nod before walking off with nick towards his room.

"are you okay?" nick asks me as soon as the door shuts, "no- no i'm fine."

"is it matt?" nick laughs slightly as he pulls on a crewneck sweater and leaps into his bed. "yeah- no- i mean it's just i've met him before..?" i lie through my teeth, nick nods suspicously.

"well i'm tired as shit so i'm gonna cut it" nick says, "cut it?" i laugh, laying down beside nick.

"go to sleep? cut it....?" he smiles with a shrug.

-

nicks fast asleep, i just now remember the fact the cookies have been in the oven for over 35 minutes. i jump up, speed-walking out of the room and into the kitchen. i take out the metal tray, the 'cookies' are just lumps of charcoal now.

with a groan i exit the kitchen, i can see through the crack in his bedroom door that matt's still awake.

i don't know what posseses me but i knock softly on the door, "come in." i hear.

i open the door, matts shirtless in bed, still wearing those sweatpants from earlier.

(matt's pov)

my eyes widen as i see her walk into the room, "hi, uh- i just wanted to apologise for earlier." she says, i stand up out of bed to get closer to her, she shuts the door behind her. she’s only wearing a loose and long shirt which looks like a dress on her, with panties, which show every time she lifts up her arms.

"i should've knocked." she continues, i smile and shake my head.

"no i totally get it, honest mistake" i reply, "wasn't the best way to meet you so i'm sorry about that." she laughs slightly.

"its all okay," i say, "so you're not mad at me?" she asks shyly. "i would never be mad about that?" i sigh, pulling her into a hug.

theres a thick tension in the air, i don't know where it's come from but i know we are both feeling it.

she looks up at me, my arms are still loosely wrapped around her back.

she grabs my jaw before colliding our lips together, her lips are soft, i hesitate before kissing her back, my hand lacing into her hair.

i guide her back, she falls backwards onto my matress as our lips stay joined, our tongues now fighting for dominance.

her hands reach down and start tugging down my waistband. i pull away for a second, “are you sure?” i ask her, she nods frantically “please- yes.”

“arms up.” i say, she puts her arms above her head as i reach down, pulling off her loose tshirt. my eyes fall to her tits as my cheeks flush, she squirms on the matress impatiently.

i tug off her panties, discarding them somewhere across my room. she’s fully bare infront of me, her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

i lean over her to reach my bedside table, fiddling around in the drawer for a condom, “i’m on the pill,” she says grabbing my wrist and pulling me away

“oh shit okay!” i say, sounding a little too excited. she laughs slightly.

“you gotta be really, fucking, quiet.” i stare into her eyes, “nick is through that fucking wall and chris is the other side, if you get too loud i’ll stop mhm?”

she nods frantically “yes- yeah okay”

i line myself up with her, my hand travels down to grip her waist and i hold her hand with my free hand.

i push inside of her, instantly feeling her grip around me. i immediately worry, there’s not a single chance i’m lasting past a minute with her being this tight.

she lets out a delicate moan, holding herself back as she presses her lips together. i give her a minute to adjust before thrusting out to my tip, then pressing deeper inside of her.

with each thrust i pick up my pace as i stay concentrated on the wall, trying not to instantly cum.

she throws her head back, arching her back off my bed as every so often she lets out a shaky deep breath. i take the hand that’s on her waist and press down on her lower abdomen, seeing how far i can push her before she makes a noise.

i stop holding her hand with my other hand, and start tracing figure 8’s on her clit.

she finally breaks, letting on a desperate moan which seemed to come out louder than expected. i quicken my movements before slamming a hand over her pretty mouth. i hear a muffled ‘close’ and i continue to toy with her clit, keeping a hand plastered on her mouth.

she clenches around me, a whimper falls from my mouth as i feel her release, screaming my name.

i take my hand off her clit and place a hand on her throat, pressing lightly as she comes down from her high.

i pull out of her, finishing in my hand.

i flip down next to her, pulling her ontop of me and rubbing her back soothingly as i attempt to catch my breath. “matt..” i hear her say quietly,

“mhmm?” i reply, “can you walk me back to nicks room.” she says, sitting up on my thighs and reaching for her shirt.

“yeah, of course.” i say with a smile.

she crawls off of me to retrieve her underwear, which landed on my computer keyboard.

i sit up, pulling on my sweatpants and a soft shirt before grabbing her hand.

i creak open my bedroom door, she follows close behind me. i open the door to nicks room where he’s spread out on his bed, fast asleep. i pull down the covers and sweep her off her feet.

i lay her down on the bed, adjusting her head on the pillow before pulling up the duvet, i press my lips to her forehead before leaving the room.

————————-

(y/n’s pov)

9:38am

i wake up to the sun blaring on my face, i roll over, my legs still hurting from last night. i sit up, “nick” i tap him, he shoots up in bed.

“jesus!” i laugh, “how the fuck did you get up that fast- were you awake??”

nick erupts into laughter, “you scared me that’s all!” he says, i scoff before standing up out of bed, nick follows behind me as i open the door to his room.

i walk into the kitchen where chris and matt already are, leaning on the kitchen counter.

“good morning!” i say, matt shoots me a stupid smile “guess what.” chris says blankly, my heart drops, did he hear matt and i last night?

“what.” i instantly reply, looking over at matt who looks equally as nervous as me.

he walks over to the stovetop where the tray of ‘cookies were’ he picks them up and walks over to nick, matt and i.

“oh yeah- you dumbfucks left ‘em in the oven so i took them out.”

“what. the. FUCK is that” nick laughs, backing away from the burnt excuses of cookies.

“are they edible still?” chris genuinely asks, looking over at me for an awnser.

“chris what do you think.”

——————-

[aptericia]

Not proud to be here.

--

Ok, here goes draft like 5 of this fucking post. I spent 4 hours tossing and turning in bed last night thinking about this, and then this morning I found a tumblr post that really helped me understand what I was trying to say.

The post talks about how aromantic "advocates" claim that "aros don't take up resources, so there's no reason not to include them!" And if that's actually what people believe, I think I can finally articulate why it is that I feel so alienated in queer spaces.

It's because aspecs in general aren't "welcomed" by much of the queer community. We're tolerated. We perhaps get the luxury of not being contradicted on our own identities, or not being specifically kicked out of LGBTQ-only spaces, but that's the whole point: what we get out of the queer "community" is people NOT doing things, not actually doing things FOR us. And that, frankly, is not enough. We deserve conversations about us. We deserve to have others consider our feelings, even when making lighthearted jokes. We deserve varied, respectful representation in media. We deserve the active deconstruction of amatonormativity in society. We deserve to have space made for us, rather than at most being told we should "go take up more space!" ourselves.

Of course, the reality is that my being aspec is a personal matter that does not inherently affect anyone else. But the same can be said for literally any queer identity. Your being gay doesn't say anything about me, so of course I shouldn't hurt you for it, but why should I help you either? Because your happiness and comfort are important. The same goes for aspecs.

And most of the time, I don't even need anyone to make space for or expend resources on me; I can live fine in everyday, non-queer-specific places without mentioning my identity at all. But it's the queer community that claims it will make that space for me, doesn't, and then acts defensive and morally pure if I call out the hypocrisy because "we're queer too, you can't erase our identities to advocate for yours!!!!"

Again, this post isn't about specifics. I have queer friends who are incredibly thoughtful and supportive about my identity, just as I have non-queer friends who are. I find more solidarity in aspec-only communities, as well as trans/genderqueer ones, although there are still many exceptions. This post is also not about amatonormative ideology, which is extremely common from queer and non-queer people alike. This post is about the reason I've felt so betrayed by the queer community.

--

On a personal note, I remember being so excited when I started identifying as aromantic (and later asexual). Fitting myself into labels has been a lifelong struggle for me; to this day I still can't confidently say if I'm White or PoC, neurotypical or neurodivergent, abled or disabled, cisgender or not cisgender. I continue to struggle making friends because I don't fall into social cliques. To discover that I officially, certainly, was LGBTQ+ lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. And now I'm just so sad to find that despite that, I'm still stuck in the middle. I didn't get rewarded with a community. I still feel alienated from both queer and non-queer people. I know it was silly to get my hopes up when there's such vast diversity in both groups, but it really was a disappointment. Going to my first Pride parade last year was really the moment where I realized this.

[mywritersmind]

hey girl! are you writing for franco atm??? if so I wanted to see if you could write smth like fluff or reader and franco get in a fight maybe bcs of the time zones and races and he surprises her one night before race weekend like he catches a flight to see her but she still won’t budge on talking to him xxx

YELL AND FLY - FC43

listen up : just arguing but ending in comfort. thanks for the request this lowk almost made me cry

word count : 877

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I can hear him pacing, the sounds of drilling and tires in the background, “I’m just tired, Franco.” We’ve been like this for an hour, I keep hearing him swear in spanish and making sure everyone leaves him alone.

“You don’t think I am?” he groans as someone tries to speak to him again, “Fuck, obviously I’m tired! You’re not the one working every weekend.”

I scoff and sit up in my bed, the sun not even up yet, “That's unfair and you know it, Franco! I work! I work even more when you’re away!” I say sarcastically, “But I'm sorry that you have to do the job you chose and you love!”

I shake my head as he responds, “I didn’t mean that, love.”

“Yes you did. And that’s fine but don’t push your anger onto me. You always do shit like this.”

“Like what?” His voice raises.

I run my hand into my hair, “You don’t think I support you.”

“Well it’s hard to think that when you’re not here supporting me.” I want to hit him, then myself. How could he think that? After I said I wanted to be there but couldn’t because I was fucking working. He takes it back quickly, “I’m sorry i’m just overwhelmed-”

“Franco. I’m tired.” Tired of this. Tired of waking up so early and staying up late for a ten minute call where we just fight, “we should talk about this later.”

He still sounds angry, “I’m busy all day.”

I stay silent. What am I supposed to say? Cry and tell him to not be? I have no choice but to nod.

“Good luck.”

He sighs, I hear the ruffling of his hair, “I’m sorry. I wish you were here.”

“Me too.” He’s mad at me and I’m mad at him. I’ve been with Franco long before his F1 debut, but us yelling over the phone every weekend isn’t something I expected with the job.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I watched his race, texted him, and logged off social media for the day. He’s off to Mexico but I just can’t leave right now. I’m sitting in the kitchen, eating my cereal and leaning over the counter while listening to Taylor Swift.

There’s a knock at the door, I groan. I’m in the same pajamas as two days ago and my hair is in the messiest bun I've seen in a while.

When I open the door, my jaw actually drops.

“Franco?” I poke him as if I think he’s some figment of my imagination. Have I really gone that crazy that I'm imagining my boyfriend at my door?

“Hi, love.” He’s real. He walks in, shutting the door softly. I want to cry as he slips his arms around me, “I’m so sorry.”

His voice washes over me and I hug him tighter, breathing him in and realizing how much I missed how he smells.

“I’m mad at you.” It comes out as a whisper, my voice broken and sad.

“You can be.” I pull back a bit, his hands in my hair, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Why are you here?” I cross my arms, stepping back.

Franco looks nervous, a bag by his side, “I wanted to see you. I thought you wanted that too…”

“Of course I did!” I sigh dramatically.

He smiles at my anger, “So, I'm here for you.”

I shake my head, going to the kitchen and cleaning up my breakfast. I don’t know how to feel. I’m so happy he’s here. But then what? He’ll just leave again and I’ll watch two second clips of him on the TV?

He follows me into the kitchen, “Love… Let me do it.” I let him because I hate the dishes.

I sit on the counter, watching him gently washing the bowl with his sleeves rolled up. He drys his hands, then looks up at me.

“I’m sorry for being mad.” I look at the floor but he steps in between my legs so I look at him, “It’s just hard.”

“It’s hard for me too. I want you there all the time but I'm so proud of you!” he puts his hands on my outer thighs, “Time Zones suck.”

I laugh, wiping my eyes from the tears that spill down my face, “I’m proud of you too. Shit, you’re so amazing. I hate working.”

“Quit.” He says it so fast.

“Franco!” I swat at his arm, letting out a sort of sob laugh.

“Okay, you can quit when I get a full time seat.” I laugh as he smiles softly up at me, “I know it’s rough right now.”

“We can work through it. We’re us.” His thumbs smooth over my cheeks.

He nods, “We’re us.”

“How long are you here for?”

He frowns, “I leave tomorrow night.” I frown with him, “But I'm here now.”

I sigh, knowing he’s right. I look up at my boyfriend, his hands on me. I know I need to live in the moment now.

I kiss him softly and he pulls me into another hug, his arms around my waist, “I love you.”

I run my hands through his hair, “I love you too. We can do this.”

[silentcryracha]

1k special love week: 1. Bang chan

Pairing: bang chan x reader

Context: part one of eight for my Special Love Week in celebration of 1k followers (🤍). Drabble based on 3 prompts which are 'loves when + kink + sex position'.

Warnings: 18+ only, very minimum buildup, it's 99% smut, one shot, see prompts, fingering (f receiving), intercourse p in v, non protected (but they're married), talk of cum & its consequences (breeding kink hello?), pet names (baby, my love) , a couple uses of the word daddy

Word count: 2.4k

Prompts: Bang Chan loves when you get needy + Dom/sub & Breeding Kink + missionary (+variations)

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan loves it when you're needy. Anytime, really. It may be sexual but it also can not be. Being needed is a love language to him. He loves to help, to be the person you go to when you need something. May be something silly like moving a piece of furniture (strenght kink hello?), something more serious like an advice.

Of course he's into it because he cares about you and he loves you, but let's be honest here, it also does feed his ego in some way. That especially comes into play when this neediness is paired with horniness. Then it's over, for both you and him.

You know he likes to be more dominant most of the times, but even then, at the end of the day, it's really you who has him wrapped around your finger.

"Channie are you busy?" you ask, maybe even with a slightly exaggerated whiny voice.

He turns his head a bit to look at you from his seat at the living room table where he'd been working on his laptop for hours.

"Kind of, why baby?" he answered back, promptly welcoming you with one arm as you walked up to him.

"I was wondering if you could give me a massage?" he smirked , squeezing the flesh of your waist sightly.

"Just out of the blue?"

"Actually I think I strained by back a bit from cleaning today" you chuckled, but his smiled dropped so fast it was almost comical. A mixture of worry and annoyance taking its place.

"Did you move the couch by yourself again?" he scolded, standing up and quickly closing the laptop's screen simultaneously. "You hurt yourself last time too. I told you to call me if you needed help"

His tone was becoming a bit intimidating, but you knew he just wanted to help, and especially for you not to get hurt.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, putting your doe eyes on to try and sweet talk yourself out of it.

"I didn't 'hurt' myself! I just got tired, alright? It happens" you shrugged, but you could tell he wasn't happy.

"It happens but if you did as i told you and asked me for help, it wouldn't have" he responded, then added "Now go lay down, I'm gonna get some aloe."

That's when dom/sub dynamic jumps out. When Chan gets annoyed, fake or to play, you automatically obey. It would be a lie to say that you didn't know where this whole situation was gonna go the second you started it.

"Yes" you tried your best to suppress a smile as you walked in your shared bedroom, turning on the warm colored night light.

Then you laid on the bed on your belly, arms hugging the pillow on which your head rested.

A couple of minutes later Chan walked in the room. You didn't quite see him, as your face was turned the opposite way, but you felt him climbing on the bed, straddling your legs.

"Take the sweater off, or it's gonna get sticky" he says. You get up enough to comply, placing it on your breasts, then laying back down.

"Warm it up a bit, please" you asked softly, knowing that the aloe was going to be super cool against your warm skin. It was the chilly autumn season, after all.

"Yeah" he reassured. You heard the sound of the bottle popping open and close, then being discarded to the side.

"I'll try my best" he spoke again, rubbing his palms together to warm up the gel, "But you didn't listen and hurt yourself, so you gotta handle a bit of cold. It'll feel better." His tone was pretty neutral, but the scolding was clear.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

"Do you want the massage or not?" He stopped his movements. You sighed.

"Sorry"

"That's more like it" it was subtle, but you knew him well enough to know he had a stupid smirk on his face. Unfortunately, you were so down bad, that it turned you on even more.

Suddenly his hands touched the skin of your shoulder blades, making you gasp a bit.

"Are they too cold, still?"

"No, it's good. I was just surprised" you chuckled. At that point he started the actual massage, skillfully using his thumbs and other fingers to put pressure.

"Relax, alright? Just tell me if it hurts" you nodded at the best of your abilities due to your position, without replying.

Chan kept working, starting from your upper back, then going back and forth between places. You were in fact so relaxed, your eyelids were almost falling shut. Until he got to your shoulders, which got you instantly back to earth, hissing.

"Tough spot?" He asked. You hummed in agreement, making the pressure of his fingers slightly less forceful but still going.

"I can tell" he paused, "How about here?" he moved his thumbs up, at the nape of your neck.

"Mmh, yes. Feels really good" you answered, feeling almost floaty. So much that you involuntarily started sighing softly.

"Does my baby feel better?" His buttery voice, just a tad bit condescending, sparked something in your stomach.

"Uh uh" he chuckled, now using his palms to caress you, all up and down your back, waist, sides.

"Good. 'Cause the gel is completely dry." And despite that, his movements didn't stop. They just changed the intention.

He lightly traced the tip of his fingers around, giving your goosebumps and sometimes eliciting a small giggle because of tickling.

"Are you sleepy?" He asked sweetly. You shook your head no, looking back at him. He was smiling, but his gaze sharpened as he looked at your face.

"Yes, you are" he teased. You tried to hide a cheeky smile, shaking your head again. You were just trying to be childish, shaking your whole body along with your head.

But your cute butt shaking like that right in front of his eyes and dangerously close to his crotch, kind of sealed the deal. He looked down, then back up at you.

Then, suddenly, slap!

You yelped in surprise as both of his hands came down to slap your ass. He laughed.

"No? Show me, then." He challenged. You didn't need to be told twice.

You managed to roll over on your back, with him still hovering over you. His eyes immediately went to your bare tits, but you didn't let him enjoy the view as you pulled him down towards you by his hoodie.

You started kissing, quite passionately right from the get go. But as much as Chan liked to make out, he wanted to get comfortable.

So he paused, taking off his hoodie quickly, as well as his tracksuit pants and boxers, all in one go. In the meantime, you also discarded your sweater, then taking off your own pants and panties.

When finally you were both naked, you immediately went back to kissing. Chan wrapped one arm around your torso, pulling you towards him, as he worked to get the sheets over you two.

You gave him a questioning look at first, not immediately understanding what he was doing.

"You got goosebumps all over" he explained, also getting between your legs.

"Thank you baby" you mumbled, kissing him again sweetly.

You spent several minutes humping each other and making out, with a little biting and sucking, both probably more tired than you cared to admit.

You properly started to lose it when Chan grabbed himself and slid the head of dick around your drenched pussy, including your sensitive clit.

"C-channie please" your finger pads pressed into his shoulders hard as you whined.

"Please, what?" He replied, voice low, eyes glassy and fixated on yours. Lips plump and slightly agape.

A few strands of his hair had started to get damp and stick to his forehead from the head of your bodies, the adrenaline, and probably also because of the heavy duvet.

He looked so fucking good, enough to make you go stupid.

"Please get inside me" you chocked out, "I need it so bad, please baby" desperation dripping from your words.

"Where does my baby need me? Here?" Two of his fingers slid right in your pussy, no resistance whatsoever by how completely wet you were all over.

You whined a bit, trying to get him closer with your arms.

"N-not enough" you sobbed, "I need your cock, please baby, please"

"Since my love asks so nicely..." He leaned down, placing his plush lips on yours in a sweet kiss, distracting you from the moment in which he actually did enter you.

You both sighed and moaned, in ecstasy. You both liked to get freaky, even a bit rough. But missionary, and all its variations to be honest, were your favorites.

In that position he was dominant, in charge of the work. And you were laying there, needy and desperate, like he wanted you. Not to mention the easy accessibility to your tits, waist, legs, ass.

But let's be real, the actual reason why you both loved that position so much it's because it's intense. Romantic, passionate, creates a close connection, and you have each other's faces right there to kiss. What's better than that?

Maybe the fact that he can go deep...like really deep. Especially when he gets into it and puts your legs over his shoulders, or just keeps them spread at his sides.

Not to mention...that the position itself adds greatly to Chan's whole (and obvious) breeding kink. Just the thought of him spilling his seed inside you, and possibly keeping it there as long as possible, just gets him gone.

Chan was keeping his hands on the side of your face as he went back and forth, inside you, at a fast and rough pace.

His mouth alternated in between giving you kisses and spurring you on with his dirty talk.

"How do you feel, my love?" He panted, "Does your Channie's cock make you feel good?" His voice was so erotic and full of tease, it drove you crazy.

"Mmh- y-yes...'so good daddy" you were so out of it you barely realized the word that slipped from your lips. It wasn't the first time, but it wasn't usual.

He chuckled faintly, still going hard on your abused pussy. He leaned down again, starting to kiss and lick the side of your neck, near your ear.

"Your daddy, uh?" He teased, whispering, "That's right. Daddy 'll take care of you"

All that teasing was getting your even more flushed and lightheaded than you already were, your pussy clenching in involuntarily agreement. Chan groaned at that, chuckling wickedly because he knew what he was doing.

"I..." You whined.

"Ssh, I know, it's alright. You close baby?" You nodded, nuzzling his shoulder with your face.

"Good, good girl" he kissed your head, "Come for me"

Didn't take anything more than that for you to reach your high, your hole clenching around his length, and you shivering from the aftermath and intensity.

Chan slowed down but didn't stop, allowing you to gently get off, except that you started grinding on his crotch.

"You wanna come again?" He smirked, short of breath. You nodded, but it wasn't enough for Chan.

"Say it" he ordered, "I wanna hear my little cum slut say that she wants to cum again"

"Ffuuck yes, I-i'm a little cum slut that wants to cum a-again" you exclaimed, suddenly reinvigorated by the new chase to your second orgasm, to which you were already so close.

"Whose?"

"Yours! Your cum slut, your baby, your everything" you responded, desperately. Chan groaned at that, his pace getting faster.

"Yeah, that's fucking right, my love, my whole world" he mumbled, kissing your lips.

"Can I come with you, mmh? Can I, baby?" You nodded frantically, cupping his face in your hands.

"Yes, please come with me, I wan' it" you slur, "Want your cum inside me, fuck" you gasped as he hit a particularly good spot, just above your cervix.

"Fuck yes" he moans, "Want my cum? Wanna make me a real daddy? So everyone knows who you belong to?"

Your legs clenched around his waist, your heels pushing his butt further into you, if that was even possible.

"Yes" you answer, "Wanna be filled up, carry you around with me everywhere"

That was the last drop for you both to orgasm. Him for the first time, and you for your second. Chan groaned deeply, stilling inside you as his seed sprayed your warm walls. While your own pussy pulsated, wet and sticky.

You remained hugged for a good while, him softening inside you. His breath became so quiet and regular that for a moment you thought he had fallen asleep.

"Channie?" You whispered sweetly. He hummed back, making you smile. Your fingers started to lightly scratch his scalp and caress in between his short hair.

"Now, I'm sleepy" he mumbled, hugging your body tighter.

"You can rest, love" you reply.

"Gotta clean you up" he replied back. So at that point you moved delicately, hinting at him to get off of you. You got up, on slightly wobbly legs and almost jumped for how cold the floor was against your hot feet.

You went into your shared bathroom and grabbed a towel, wetting it a bit. You then came back, finding Chan laying on his side, his hand resting on where you should be, waiting.

"Get the covers back a bit, baby" you say, and he complies. You delicately clean his lower area, including his abs which were full off little droplets. Did you squirt a bit? You didn't even realize.

When you were done you went back in the bathroom, and cleaned some droplets of both your juices that had trickled down your thighs. Then discarded the towel, and peed before coming back into the bedroom.

You picked up all the clothes, putting back on the panties and the sweatshirt.

"Baby do you-?" You were asking if he wanted to get redressed, but his eyes were closed and his mouth pouty. He fell asleep. You smiled warmly, just picking up the boxers and putting away the rest of the clothes.

Then you climbed up on the bed, putting one foot then the other in each hole of the boxers, then trying your best to slide them up. Chan did wake up for a slight second, realizing what was happening, and promptly arched his hips to allow you to pull the fabric up all the way.

After that, you reached your arm to turn off the bed light, and then finally you were back hugging your husband, falling asleep quickly as well.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[novemberheart]

{overview} Just because your pack is back together doesn’t mean things are back to normal

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly141, cursing, mentions of being scared, smoking, short chapter

Chapter 30 <- Chapter 31 -> Chapter 32

“Hi, Ms. Garrick,” you greeted. You heard her chuckle on the other end of the phone.

“Well hello, lovely,” she greeted back. You smiled at the similarities between their pet names for you. She had gotten your number from John after Kyles accident. She called you leaving the kindest message in your inbox.

Hello, Sweetheart. Now you don't know me, but my name is Rosalind Garrick, Kyle’s mother. But don't think that just because you don't know me, I know nothing about you. You’re all Kyle talks about anymore and I’m just so happy he's finally able to get some peace amongst his chaos. I know how hard this all must be for you so if you ever need anyone to talk to please reach out to me. As far as I'm concerned you’re a part of our pack and we want to make sure you are taken care of.

Alright, sweetheart. Talk to you soon.

Since then you've called her every few days, mostly to give her updates about Kyle.

“How’s our beta doing?” she asked.

“He’s been doing good. Started to get up and walk with crutches. He's stubborn and restless,” you grumbled. As if on cue, the beta trudged out of his room, heading towards the kitchen.

“That’s the man I know,” she chuckled.

“Hey, mum,” Kyle greeted from the kitchen. You bounded over, hoisting yourself up onto the counter.

“The next time you all go on leave I want you to come home,” She pressed. You grinned wickedly, agreeing before the words had even reached Kyle’s ears. “I’ve only met Johnny. Now it’s a crime I haven't met your alphas yet, and I'm not going to let you get away with me not meeting your omega. In-person,” she added.

“Sounds right to me,” you agreed. That's why she loved you.

“You’ll love the city. Did Kyle tell you about all the museums? I know you love those.”

Kyle did tell her about you.

“We can work that out,” Kyle agreed. He did want to go home, and he desperately wanted to share that part of himself with you. You and Ms. Garrick both squealed excitedly.

“Can I talk to you about something?” you asked. He stiffened immediately, his mind jumping to the worst.

Had he hurt you again?

Your hands smoothed over his shoulder, your bottom resting against his knee. His relax was instantaneous. He leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours.

“I was wondering if I could get a job?” you said slowly. It wasn't slow enough with the way the wheels in his mind were turning.

“Why? Something you need? It’s my job”-

“No, nothing like that. It’s more social than anything.” you interjected. “I’ll be with Anais and Jane. It’s at a new bakery a little off base. It's just a few hours on Fridays and the weekend,” you explained.

He wanted to shut it down. You were social enough. Before Kyle was hurt you had activities nearly every day. Sometimes it felt like you did more in a day than they did.

Yet the look in your eyes halted him. You had forgiven him- he could feel it. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you after just making up.

“Alright,” he agreed. You gasped softly, a wide grin spreading over your face. It made him happy despite the feeling of something wrong clawing at him.

“Thank you!” you cheered, your lips colliding with his cheek.

“One of us will take you to work the first week. Then you girls can commute together. And you are never to go off on your own, you understand?” he urged. You hummed against his cheek. “And I need to meet your boss- and anyone else who’s working there,” he added, between your attacks.

You were just about to head to your room, when a strong arm wrapped around your middle. You recognized a familiar tattoo.

“Tavy,” you giggled. He said nothing, heading to his room.

“Seems like you've forgotten it’s my night, bonbon,” he teased, tossing you on his bed. He crawled over you, making you flush.

“I could never forget,” you lied, blinking up at him. He smirked down at you, completely still for a moment before pressing rapid-fire kisses against your cheek.

You squealed as his hands tickled up and down your sides.

“Mac, no!” you gasped out. “I was just getting tired,” you whined against him. He paused, his smirk pressing against yours.

“Alright, peaches,” he agreed. He wrapped an arm tightly around you, purring softly as you buried your face in his chest. Cinnamon mixed with some of your vanilla lotion he had stolen.

“Simon comes home tomorrow,” you sighed happily. Johnny hummed, a pleased rumble leaving his throat. “I thought you and John would be gone longer,” you yawned.

“So did we,” he yawned back. He said nothing more on the topic, yet you didn't expect him to.

When you woke up you were no longer trapped between him and the bed, but him and another body. Leather with an undertone of black licorice. There was more smoke in his scent than you were used to. He must have been smoking a lot. A purr vibrated through you, making his chestnut eyes flutter open.

“What’re you purring about?” Simon groaned, pushing the two of you closer to Johnny. He was playing dumb. You could feel the curl of his lips against the back of your head.

“You’re back,” you said weakly, your throat hoarse with sleep.

“I’m back,” he affirmed. His hand found your stomach rubbing small circles in an attempt to lull you back to sleep. He wasn't ready to get up yet. He had just gotten home an hour ago and the last thing he wanted to do was pull himself away from the warmth of this bed. “Go back to sleep, pup,” he urged. You didn't need much more convincing, your eyes practically sewing themselves shut.

“Welcome home,” Johnny grumbled, with half-lidded eyes.

“Thanks, pup,” Simon mumbled, his fingers digging into the Scots side, pulling all of you closer once more. That wasn't usual for Simon, needing to have his pack this close, especially after a mission. Something must’ve happened.

“You alright?” Johnny drawled, unburying his face from your neck. Simon hummed in assurance.

“Fine, mutt,” he soothed. “Get some sleep,” he pressed, his fingers racking up and down Johnny’s lower back.

The next time Simon woke he had a fever. It was hot enough to make you and Johnny wake up in a sweat. Johnny quickly grabbed you, plopping you on the couch next to Kyle- assuming you may have triggered a rut for Simon like you had for John.

“What’s happening?” John groaned, uncurling himself from Kyle on the couch.

“Fever,” you responded. Kyle's hand pressed against your forehead. “Simon,” you clarified, moving to stand so you could peek into Johnny’s room. “I don't think it’s a rut Johnny,” you mumbled.

“I’m fine,” Simon groaned. He peeled off his sweatshirt, flopping back down against the mattress. His wide chest rose and fell irregularly. You approached your hand resting on his stomach. His body seemed to relax slightly, and you decided to take the chance and curl up against him. His heartbeat was fast- too fast.

“I’m calling a doctor,” John pressed, gently maneuvering Kyle off of him. Simon flipped the two of you over, making you gasp. Johnny flung forward his hand gripping the alpha’s shoulder.

“Not gonna do anything, pup,” he mumbled, his heart squeezing at the sound that escaped you. “Need to feel ya,” he mumbled, just low enough for you to hear. His hand crept under your shirt resting against the soft skin of your back.

He couldn't explain it. It started two weeks ago, a light burning sensation under his skin, and an almost sour feeling in his mouth. It felt like he was going through withdrawals. He was shaky, his heart skipping beats. He went through two packs of cigarettes in a day and still no relief. Wasn't till he met you at the hospital after Kyle’s accident did he start to put it together. Yet it only got worse being around you.

He growled against your neck, clenching his jaw so hard his teeth creaked.

“Doctor’ll be here in fifteen,” John spoke, his shoulder taking up the doorway. “How long have you felt this way?” John pressed.

“Couple weeks,” he growled. A pang shot through his skull, he steadied himself over you, taking a deep breath. It only made it worse, yet he couldn't pull himself away. Johnny leaned against the desk causing it to creak, the sound sending Simon on high alert. You whined at the snarl that left him. “Sorry,” he apologized instantly.

“Sweetheart, how about we wait on the couch till the doctor gets here?” John offered, beginning to move towards the two of you. He didn't like the way Simon was acting. The sound that came out of Simon was deadly, making it known he disagreed with Johns suggestion. John released a sound of his own.

You were scared.

It didn't help when Simon's hand reached behind him, grabbing at John's shirt.

“What the hell?” Johnny growled. Johnny sprung into action, his arms reaching under Simons pulling him to the floor.

“Get out!” John commanded. You didn't need to be told twice, throwing yourself off the bed, curling up behind Kyle. Kyle held you with both arms, not caring about the uncomfortable stretch of his shoulder.

“Up we go,” Kyle pressed, grabbing his crutch and leading you into your room. He locked the door behind the both of you, cradling you against him as you shook.

You could hear them.

Cursing. The sound of someone being slammed against the wall. Growling. Shouting. Things breaking.

The smell of angry alpha began to seep under the door.

“Kyle,” you whimpered. He shushed you softly, his lips pressed against your hairline.

It suddenly went quiet.

Hi friends! See you in three days for chapter 32! 🧡🙌🏻

[schrodingerscougar]

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

--

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)