#if it weren’t his DAUGHTER standing over him.. even the lower shots were making me insane

[nott-gay]

I may not be a huge fan of how the Scanlan and Kaylie scene was adapted, but god damn…

Scanlan was hot as hell in that scene for fucking real.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Uncharted Territory

Billy Kimber’s Daughter

Possessive! Thomas Shelby x Reader Kimber

Summary: Your first encounter with Thomas Shelby, and your relationship between the two of you a month later.

WordCount: 3.1k

Stable, was all you could say about your relationship with Thomas Shelby. Relationships with him weren’t unknown but there were very few who stuck around for longer than just a night. Thomas was one who sought after you, after that faithful day at the Garrison; you shouldn’t have even been there but your father insisted. However he said to stay in the car and wait, after this little meeting with the man who fixed a race; you needed to get your dress for the derby the following evening. Remembering that day like it was the night before.

“Right, he’s the oldest, you’re the thickest. I’m told the boss is called Tommy and I’m guessing that’s you cos’ you’re looking me up and down like I’m a fucking tart”

The door behind your father creeks, and he turns his head before lowering it in disappointment. Thomas, Arthur, and John all move in their seats to look at the person, John put his hand on his gun belt along with Arthur.

“you’re just like your mother.”

Kimber notices their hands on their gun belts, clearing his throat and gently pulling you behind him he looks at them.

"I'm gonna have you shot against a pole if you don't take your fuckin' hands off the guns. She means no harm; just insanely impatient."

Thomas noted your small frame and waved for his brothers to stand down.

"Women ain't part of this deal, Kimber." pausing, looking back at you "You and I both know that all too well."

"So, why'd you bring her in the first place?"

"Well, I thought this bloody meeting would be over quick, didn’t I? Instead of wasting time going back home to fetch her for those measurements for the new dress for the derby tomorrow, I just brought her here. Told her to stay in the car, didn't I?”

“You said it would be over by 10, it’s 11 now!”

Gritting your teeth and biting your tongue before you said anything else, but Thomas stood up and asked Kimber to move so he could see you.

"Is this what you handle? All day long?" Thomas stares at you, eyes cold and calculating, before turning the Kimber, his voice low and dangerous."Is she with anyone?"

"Oh, bloody hell no, she's not dating unless the lad can offer her what I've given her growing up... and that ain't happened yet, has it?"

“No..no it hasn’t”

“Kimber I’ve never seen her at the races before, you hiding her?”

Kimber looked at him before smiling

"She stays put where I'm at, see? She don't get the choice to wander when I ain't around."

Clearing your throat, and standing in with your back facing your father. You spoke up about your feelings.

"‘E's fuckin' stupid, that's what it is."

"Another reason why she can’t walk around, she runs her mouth like a bloody sailor. It makes me look bad."

Kimber runs his fingers through your hair and fixed it to his liking

"Oi, what's her age, then? Legal, ain't she?"

Kimber thought about it for a second, before nodding and saying you’re nineteen.

"Aye, you reckon you can handle her, lad? I'm warning you, she may seem calm now, but she ain't one for stoppin' and listenin'. It's like there's no brain up there, I tell ya."

You bit your tongue before deciding it was worth it.

“I have a fuckin' brain, I was top of my math class”

"Sweetheart, I'm just givin' you a hard time about it. I know you're extremely smart with numbers, but actin' proper, is where ya’ struggle."

“Should I meet the description of what you want in a partner, then I shall court her to seal this deal. Sound like a plan?"

Thomas sat back down his chair and pulled out a cigarette and lighter then lighting it.

“It'd be a smart move, but it's her call. 'Cause this is for your gain, not mine."

His eyes fixed onto yours

"Tell me, love, what's your verdict?" Thomas exhales smoke slowly, his gaze unwavering, piercing through the veil of the Garrison.

And the rest was history, the derby ‘date’ went outstandingly well for us. Thomas was very kind and generous with you, your father even let you and him walk around alone instead of being cooped up in the box you normally sit in. The deal was agreed upon after that day and he could see I was delighted to have someone different to talk to besides him or the maids. The most memorable thing of that day was the kiss you shared after he said goodbye to you, it felt real and intimate and not like it was false. Thomas learned you really loved riding horses, painting, and of course cooking. Meeting him felt like putting the last piece of a puzzle together.

Stopping by the Marquis Pub on your way home, well Thomas’s home. One of your favorite bartender Nicolas Tennant was in that pub and you loved talking to him about your relationship with Thomas and how it was going. You felt like celebrating for an odd reason but why ignore it.

“Ello’ Nicolas how’s the family doing?”

Nicolas looked up and stuck his head out from behind the bar top, with a great big smile that could cut through paper.

“Oh, miss Kimber how are you doing today?, and the family is doing well”

“I’m feeling really grand to the point where I feel like celebrating”

The both of you chatted and caught up with each other’s lives and then you asked;

“Do you happen to have a bottle of red wine and Irish whiskey?”

He smiled at you once again before nodding his head and turning around to head to the back of the pub. Suddenly, you felt a sense of despair and pain looming over you and you turn around to see a man who’s about a foot taller than you and drunk.

“I’ll pay you £10 to have you for the night, come on baby what’do ya say~”

“No, thank you. I’m not one of those”

“Every woman is if you pay them enough, come on..”

“I’ve said no! I’m seeing someone!”

"Oi, come on now… I'm tellin' ya, I'm taller than 'im, stronger, faster, and bigger, yeah? Jus' give me a chance, love. Why you wastin' time with 'im? I got the money. Don't be daft, let's 'ave a good time, eh? You won’t regret it, I swear!"

Taken aback by this statement you leaned into the bar top, but you couldn’t move any further. The man wrapped his hand around your waist and brought your hips against his. You put your hands up against his chest and pushing away from him.

Nicolas walked back to the bar top with the liquor in a brown paper bag. Shocked by the sudden change in the atmosphere he spoke up;

“Are you fuckin’ suicidal mate?, that’s a Kimber!”

The man pushed off of you and stepped back, beads of sweat started to roll down his face. He immediately looked at you and got on his knees to beg for his life. It was truly disgusting, you felt dirty. The man noticed your face and decided it would be better if he just left and he did, leaving the pub. Looking back at Nicolas he was sweating as well, he knew that his life was on the line since this happened in his presence. He puts the bag with the bottles on the counter and then says;

“Now, it’s on the house for your troubles..”

“Oh, you really don’t have too, but can I borrow your phone in the back?”

“Sure go right ahead”

The adrenaline rush of what just happened was still rushing through your veins, felt like an adaptation of a stroke mixed with a heart attack. The feeling of being in a state where you couldn’t defend yourself was playing on loop, reminding you that you’re weak. Picking up the phone and sitting down on the desk in the dark and dimly lit back room picking up the receiver and dialing Cheshire 9210. The phone rang twice before picking up and on the other end was Thomas.

“_______ where are you, e’s everythin’ alright?”

“….there was a problem with some guy and-“

You could hear Thomas’s breath exhale when he heard that, cutting you off he asked in a tone that was masking his true nature.

“_______ what’s the man’s name?..”

“I don’t know the man’s-“

You heard a door creek and looked in the sound’s direction, it was Nicolas; apparently he was leaning against the door and pushed it open. Red in the face he looked at you.

“His name’s Lenny Davis, he’s one of my regulars”

Smiling and mouthing the word thank you before waving your hand for him to go away.

“It’s Lenny Davis..”

“Alright, that’s all I needed”

Thomas hung the phone up, you sat on the desk for a couple of minutes before hopping down and heading back into the public space. Nicolas looked like he was already writing his last will and testament. Bless his heart you thought, his pub was a lovely one; maybe you could have him spared since he had spoken up to the man.

“Stop, calm down..I won’t let Thomas go this far”

You said while pointing around the pub, the Marquis was a lovely pub and you loved talking to Nicolas.

“Your all too kind to be in this town”

“I know..”

You stood in the front driveway, just standing there for a bit while look around at the cars to see whose missing. He was..great. But it wasn’t all bad at least you knew Ada was there. Oh how you loved talking to Ada, she could understand the feeling of being a Shelby and having eyes on you as soon as you left the home.

You still were getting used to the Arrow Head House, it was a bit bigger than your childhood home. You’d moved in a week after being with him. He wanted to be able to watch you more than anything. Possessive little fucker.

“_______, where on earth have you been?”

“Ada! Oh it’s so good to see you!”

Ada opened her arms and walked over to you, giving a big hug.

“Whatcha’ got in that bag?”

She asked while pointing to it.

“Whiskey and red wine”

“Did yah buy it?” Ada started to walk into the hallway making a signal to follow. “You know Thomas doesn’t like when his woman buys things for him that he can get for himself..”

Pausing and placing the brown bag with the bottles in it on one of the hallways side tables.

“That’s the fing’ i got ‘em on the house”

“How did ya’ fuckin’ do that?”

“Thomas didn’t say anything about my whereabouts?”

Ada rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“That’s the fing’ you know they don’t tell me anythinf”

Sighing you picked up the bag and pulled out the wine bottle.

“We can mull it over with this, because yah gonna need it.”

“Alrigh’ I’ll be in the den waiting for you..”

Time passes by and eventually you come down the grand staircase in a set of nightwear that had been embroidered with little roses. Thomas got it for you. You joined Ada in the den.

How many of ‘em left?”

“Obviously, Thomas but John, Arthur, Finn, Micheal, Isaiah and Jonny Dogs..”

Ada took a sip of wine, letting it mull over in her mouth.

“What fuckin’ happened?”

You smiled and held I finger up while taking a sip of wine as well.

"I was at the Marquis, fetching the whiskey and wine, and while I was waiting, some drunkard named Lenny Davis started pestering me. I felt utterly disgusted with myself because I could have called out for help. But he took me for a prostitute and kept pushing, relentless. It wasn't until Nicholas returned and shouted that I was a Kimber and a Shelby associate, that Lenny finally backed off."

Ada’s eyes went wide for a moment, before she took another sip of wine.

“Yeah, he’s fucked..”

“You swear they didn’t say anything to you before they left?”

“_______, honey I love you a lot but I told you what I know..which is nothin’..”

Ada stood up and held her finger up before the wine glass down and disappearing into the hallway, you heard her rumbling footsteps as she came back to eyesight. She had a small pink little box with a ribbon tied in a bow around it and it was white.

"Oh, how could I forget. Your father paid a visit earlier to leave a gift for you. He stayed for a little while but then left with them once Tommy got off the phone wit’ yah.”

Ada handed you the box and you placed it by your side.

“He joined them…?”

“I know right, it felt odd seeing ‘em all, for one reason..it looked like a circus act watchin’ pile into the car”

Suddenly you heard the unique sound of an engine purring, Ada and you froze. Looking at eachother’s eyes, both standing up. Ada picked the bottle up and poured the rest of the wine into both glasses.

“I knew this bottle wasn’t going to last this night..”

You heard the car doors shutting.

“Please don’t let there be a lot of blood on their clothes”

Ada rolled her eyes while setting the glass down.

“_______, honey I love you but you always ask for the obvious to not happen.”

“Are you sayin’ I can’t have hope?”

“Hope isn’t a thing if you’re a Shelby”

The grand entrance doors opened with help from the maids. The footsteps only got louder and louder as they all made their way to the den. You looked down at the carpet, then where they would be coming from.

"Don’t you dare come into this room! I do not want blood on my carpets! You and your lot can clean yourselves up outside first!"

Thomas spoke up with a small laugh.

"We weren't planning on bringing him in there, love. Don't worry, we'll sort it out elsewhere."

"You brought him into our home?! Look at the state of you!” then it finally registered that this man was in your home "YOU BROUGHT HIM INTO OUR HOME?!" you hissed, your eyes wide with alarm as you glanced nervously at the bloodstained men entering the house.

This man was..roughened up while they were on their way to Arrow Head..he wasn’t dead but he just..there. The smell of iron started to fill the air causing you to cough a little. Alarm bells rang through your head when you looked at Thomas..his were shaking a bit, knuckles were bloodstained. Your father stepped through the group as his looked at your face, he could tell you were afraid. Kimber fixed his shirt collar. Drenched in sweat, god it looked disgusting. Thomas spoke up and a dry voice.

"My love... he hurt you. He chose death for doing so."

"Get him out of here, Thomas! I won't have you bringing that violence into our home!" You hissed at him , your voice trembling with anger and fear.

"I'm just protecting you. None of this would be possible without me by your side."

"That's not the point, Thomas! I can't bear to watch a man die in front of me, especially not like this!"

"Alright boys, take ‘em to the basement. turning to look at the empty wine bottle and then Ada. Ada, I recommend you leave me alone with _______”

Thomas stood in the dimly lit room, the weight of his actions hanging heavy in the air. His love, shaken and wide-eyed, had just seen the aftermath of his brutal world—a world he had always tried to shield them from. The tension was palpable, the room thick with the scent of blood and the echoes of violence. Seeing the fear and distress etched on their face, Thomas felt a pang of guilt. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos around them. “Look at me.”

"All I ever wanted was to protect you, love. Everything I do, it's for you."

"Thomas... you frightened me. You know I can't bear seeing what those men look like after you've dealt with them."

He gently reached out, his calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. With a tenderness that seemed almost out of place for the ruthless leader of the Peaky Blinders, he guided you into his arms. “It’s alright,” he whispered, cradling their head against his chest, his hand moving to stroke your hair in a rhythmic, calming motion. Thomas took a deep breath, his own heartbeat steady and reassuring. “You’re safe,” he continued, his tone firm yet comforting. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.” He paused, letting the silence stretch for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

“I know what you saw was…horrible,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “This life, it’s not what I wanted for you to see. But sometimes, it’s necessary.” He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and sincere. “I need you to trust me. To believe that I’m doing everything I can to protect us. To protect you.” His hand continued its soothing motion, petting your hair as he drew her even closer, creating a cocoon of intimacy amidst the chaos. “I would burn the world to the ground before I let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet each word resonated with fierce conviction.

In the embrace, he allowed you to lean into his strength, to find solace in the arms of a man who, despite his ruthlessness, loved you with an intensity that defied the darkness surrounding them. The world might be brutal, but in that moment, with Thomas holding you, you found a sanctuary where fear had no place. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch firm yet infinitely gentle. The roughness of his palms contrasted with the softness of your skin, a reminder of the harsh world he inhabited and the tenderness he reserved solely for you. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, wiping away the trace of a tear.

“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “I need you to know how much you mean to me. More than anything.”

With a final, reassuring stroke of your hair, he leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with a thousand unspoken promises. His lips moved over yours with a tenderness that belied the brutal world outside, each kiss a silent vow of his love and his regret for the pain he had caused you. He poured everything into that kiss—his need to protect you, his sorrow for your distress, and the fierce love that drove him to such lengths. His hands slid to the nape of your neck, holding you gently yet securely, as if anchoring you to him in the midst of the turmoil.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in steady, calming waves. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, his voice rough with sincerity. “But I swear to you, I’ll always be here. Always.” In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of what had happened, the kiss was a beacon of their connection, a testament to the strength of their bond amid the darkness.

Author Notes:

I made the little pictures and added smoke along with the little sparkles! Oh my gosh it’s so freaking cute!!

Please don’t harp on me for the phone number and yes it’s at the arrow house instead of the beginning of where they stay, Thomas just made bank after you became a couple.

Love yah!

[dreamwritesimagines]

Enamored [4] - Museum Admiration

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Summary: Not every emotion can be deciphered, at least at first. 

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, slow burn, innuendos.

Word Count: 3,400

Series Masterlist

Flirting with people within the boundaries of formality as much as the society deemed fit was normal during balls, it was expected even.

And considering your education and everything your mother had taught you as well as making sure you were a prominent member of the ton just like she was, you were used to making small talk and flirting and even sometimes being courted.

But not like that.

You had managed to get your mind off the matter, and especially now that you were outside, you were able to focus on the warm sunlight on your skin. Your brother had suggested that you’d go on a picnic and go riding, and you had figured some fresh air would help you to not think about—

Well.

To not think about what you weren’t supposed to.

“Are you going to tell me what really happened?” your brother’s voice shot through your thoughts and your head snapped up from the embroidery you were busy with.

“I’m sorry?”

“What happened last night?”

You heaved a sigh, then lowered the hoop to put it into your lap.

“Nothing,” you said airily. “I danced with your friends.”

“And Anthony.”

“Well, he falls under that category, considering he’s your best friend,” you pointed out, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped. “Yes, I have danced with him as well.”

“And then left the ballroom for a while.”

“That sounds like a good summary of what happened,” you said and Elias tilted his head.

“Chérie.”

“I wanted to take some fresh air.”

“Right after dancing with him?”

You shot him a look. “Yes. What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, you just looked all…” he motioned at you. “Breathless.”

“Funny you noticed that, I thought you were too busy dancing,” you pointed out. “Lady Georgiana surely looked all flushed after you finished your dance with her, and her mama was very much pleased.”

“You just got here, how do you know people’s names?”

“I made a friend!” you chirped. “She told me everything about everyone, you included.”

Elias furrowed his brows. “I’m sorry, me included?”

“Yes, I’ve been told you’re quite in demand,” you said with a grin. “By mamas and daughters.”

“Oh no.”

“And that there are a lot of ladies ready to scratch each other’s eyes out to get a dance with you, which explains why Lady Georgiana was very excited even after your dance.”

“Who is your friend?”

“Her name is Cecily and she’s amazing,” you said. “I can introduce you to her if you’d like! Maybe you two would get along well, and who knows, maybe you’d fall in love and then—”

“How about you wait a little to get used to the city before you start matchmaking?” he asked and you heaved a dramatic sigh.

“I suppose,” you said. “But Elias, I’m sure if you met her—”

“Let’s go riding,” Elias interrupted you before standing up, then extended his hand for you to take it. You grabbed his hand and let him pull you up, then fixed the skirts of your riding dress to make sure you looked presentable.

Lucie stopped talking to her friend immediately and took a step towards you. “My lady?”

“Oh you can just enjoy the scenery, we will not take long,” you told her before following Elias to the horses.

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked while the stable boy helped you mount the horse. You thanked the boy, then followed Elias, fixing your dress again as your horse started trotting beside Elias’s.

“Of course.”

“What does the Duke really think about me being here?”

Elias hesitated for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. “He’s delighted.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant lie. “Elias.”

“He is having some difficulties but he will get over them.”

You pressed your lips together, insecurity spreading through your system like poison.

“He still does not believe that mother was faithful to him, does he?”

“Do you want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

Elias took a deep breath.

“I think he does believe that,” he said. “But I think that realization came too late, and now that she’s gone, he’s being consumed by guilt.”

“That’s the least he could do,” you said under your breath and Elias turned his head to look at you better.

“Forget what father thinks about you being here,” he said. “What do you think about being here?”

“That it’s temporary,” you stated after a momentary hesitation. “As soon as I fall in love and get married, I shall move out of his house and never see him again. I will not even come to his funeral.”

“Don’t say that.”

You scoffed. “Elias…”

“Please don’t say that,” he said, his voice way too quiet. “I really want us to be a family again, even if mother is gone.”

“He exiled her, Elias,” you insisted. “She was heartbroken until her last breath—I love you and you will always be my brother, but I do not see him as my father any more than he sees me as his daughter.”

Elias swallowed thickly, then tried to smile.

“Well, what if you never fall in love?” he asked you, trying to get rid of the heavy air of melancholia upon your mother’s memory. “What happens then? Do we get to keep you here?”

Your jaw dropped. “I will fall in love!” you said, your voice going a pitch higher, “Don’t even jest about it.”

“Yes but what happens if you don’t?” Elias asked, his grin getting bigger at the sight of your scandalized expression. “If none of the gentlemen in London are able to capture your heart?”

“I’m sure one of them will.”

“But if that happened, would you still get married?”

“Without love?” you asked. “No. Never.”

“You do realize that there are only maybe three couples in the ton that are in love with each other?”

“Fine, then me and my future husband shall be the fourth,” you said and he heaved a sigh.

“As long as you don’t get married just to get away from father…”

“I’d rather join a convent and live out my days in solitude than marry without love,” you said. “No, I correct myself. I will join a convent before I even consider marrying without love.”

“Father would never let you join a convent.”

“I will run away to a convent then.”

“I don’t think any convent would let you join,” Elias pointed out. “You’d probably fall in love with a priest there.”

“Elias!”

“I’m just saying, there could be a handsome priest there and before we know it…” he started but stopped talking when his eyes caught the sight of something and you followed his gaze, then your heart dropped to your stomach. Anthony—

Lord Bridgerton was on horseback with a younger lady that you knew to be his sister from the ball last night riding beside him, and they seemed to be in a deep discussion. She shrugged her shoulders in a stubborn way, making him heave a sigh and turn his head and as soon as he did, his eyes fell on you. For a second, you feared that he could hear your fast heartbeat as the horses kept walking and you unavoidably approached each other.

“Anthony,” Elias greeted him, “Miss Eloise.”

“Lord Westcliff.”

“Elias,” Anthony nodded at him before turning to you. “Lady Y/N.”

“Good afternoon.” You offered him a small smile but contrary to rest of them, you didn’t stop your horse. Elias pulled his brows together.

“Y/N?”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, still not making an attempt to pull the reigns. “He’s a new horse and I’m not used to…I think I have no other choice but to see where he goes, excuse me.”

“You know you could just—”

“New horse, my apologies!” you called out and let your horse walk past Anthony’s. As soon as you were sure they couldn’t see you, you directed the horse to take the first left turn and started making your way back to the stables.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to him.

It was just that you had no idea how to talk to him especially after last night. You could finally understand why Cecily called him a rake and why Elias warned you about him, because if this was the effect had had on other ladies as well…

It was as if your insides were on fire and it felt way too dangerous.

You stopped your horse and ran your hand through his mane before getting off, then turned your head when you heard your name being called. Elias trotted his horse before he jumped off it, and made his way to you.

“So I’m supposed to believe you have no idea how to handle a horse all of a sudden?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m doing as you asked and keeping my interaction with him scarce,” you stated, linking your arm through his. “Now show me around the park, will you?”

                                  *

You were beginning to believe that the season in London was filled with activities for each and every evening, much like back home. This evening you were to attend a museum exhibition with Elias but the Duke was not coming as usual.

Something told you that he disliked being in the crowd, which was completely different than what your mother had told you about him. When he was still with your mother, he enjoyed these outings and made sure to attend every single one with her, and now…

Now it looked like he enjoyed solitude.

“I have to admit, I’m dying to see what this whole thing is about,” Elias muttered as you stepped out of the carriage. “Everyone in the ton is convinced that one of the artists that has his work in here is the next Da Vinci.”

“Is that right?” you asked. “Good to know that I should have high expectations.”

“Very high expectations,” Elias grinned as you both walked into the exhibition. “Sometimes I wonder if I could be an artist.”

“I’ve seen your sketches, no you couldn’t.”

He gasped and clutched at his chest dramatically. “How dare you?”

You let out a laugh. “Not unless you hired a tutor. Or two tutors.”

“I could hire tutors.”

“I doubt father would like it if his heir ended up as an artist.”

Elias snapped his fingers. “And that’s exactly why I couldn’t be an artist.”

“That and a lack of talent.”

He scrunched up his face, shooting you a look that made your smirk bigger.

“What?” you asked innocently. “Mother used to say that knowing your weaknesses is a strength and here I am, informing you of your weaknesses. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

“You’re a terrible person.”

“Lord Westcliff!” someone called out and you and Elias both turned your heads, and Elias heaved a sigh.

“Give me a moment?” he asked and you pulled back.

“Of course. I will just look at the paintings over there.”

“Don’t wander off though—” he started but his eyes found someone over your shoulder, and he bowed immediately, making you turn around to see the beautiful older woman in a magnificent dress.

“Lady Danbury,” he greeted her. “This is my sister, Lady Y/N.”

“Lady Danbury,” you dropped a curtsy and she returned it.

“Lady Y/N,” she acknowledged you. “Lord Westcliff, it seems like your fellow men want to talk to you. Why don’t you give us a moment?”

“Of course,” Elias said and walked to his friends, and you smiled at her.

“It’s very lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said. “Welcome to London. Would you like to take a turn around the room?”

You nodded, then started walking beside her.

“My condolences for your loss,” she said. “Your mama was a wonderful woman.”

That familiar lump got lodged in your throat once again but you managed to blink back the tears.

“You knew her?”

“I knew her very well. She was a dear friend of mine.”

“It makes me happy to hear that,” you said. “I’m afraid I barely know anything about her days here. She refused to share her past most of the time I asked.”

“You should know that she was a kind and wonderful woman, adored by many.” she said. “And she did not deserve that treatment, not at all.”

“Then you—” you stammered. “Please forgive me for being blunt Lady Danbury, but then you know that…”

“I know that those accusations were nonsense,” she finished your sentence. “You were blessed with a very smart mother Lady Y/N, but unfortunately the same cannot be said for your father.”

Your jaw dropped as a laughter escaped from you, making you cover your mouth and she smiled at you before she stole a look at the corner of the room, her smile getting bigger.

“Well,” she said. “Enjoy the exhibition, Lady Y/N. I think we will see each other more often.”

She made her way to a couple of ladies who looked very happy to see her, leaving you completely dumbfounded. You let out a breath before grabbing a glass of lemonade from one of the trays the servers were carrying, then stepped closer to a painting, a fire sweeping over your face at the half naked figure of the woman painted there.

This was acceptable back in France but you had no idea that it was acceptable for the strict England society as well.

The whole room was buzzing with chatter behind you, but somehow, your heartbeat seemed to pick up on the presence way before your brain did. Maybe it was the pleasant scent, maybe it was the dark hair you could see out of the corner of your eye, but even before he stepped closer to you, you knew he was there.

“Lady Y/N.”

“Lord Bridgerton,” you greeted him back, forcing yourself to keep your eyes on the painting.

“I should have guessed you would be by the only French artwork in the museum, I suppose.”

That made you steal a look at him before turning your gaze to the small plate under the painting, then smiled slightly.

“I thought the style looked familiar,” you muttered. “I’ve seen his work back in Paris before.”

Anthony hummed, sipping his drink and you shifted your weight, your heart beating in your ears. Even if the room was very crowded, somehow both of you standing in front of a half-naked painting felt…

Way too intimate.

“Did you enjoy the rest of the ball the other night?” he asked and a fire spread under your cheeks but you managed to keep your eyes on the painting just like him.

“Very much so,” you said. “There are some friendly people in the ton as it turns out, even though they’re very rare. And I’ve decided to take your advice.”

“You’re going to glare at them back?”

“I’m working on it,” you pointed out, making him raise his brows. “Very cautiously, I may add.”

“Why is that?”

“Based on everything I’ve read on war, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s better if people who might be your enemies cannot tell what you think of them.”

“And you believe war strategies would work on the ton?”

“You don’t?” you asked back and he thought for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.

“You might have a point,” he admitted. “The enemy watches even now.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you gazed up at the painting before stealing a look at him. He seemed to have somehow understood what the smile you had been trying very hard to hide meant because both of you turned your heads to look behind you to see the crowd of ladies staring at you. They averted their glances and dispersed almost immediately and you and Anthony both looked up at the painting again as you tried to keep a straight face.

“I counted five people.”

“I counted ten,” he said and you shook your head.

“Intimidating, I tell you.”

“Could be worse,” he commented. “They could’ve been on horseback. I’m glad to see that you could survive your new horse, by the way.”

Oh he knew. He knew you hadn’t even attempted to stop your horse, but you managed to keep your expression still as if restlessness wasn’t pulsing through you.

“It surprised me as well,” you said. “A miracle, if you ask me.”

“Perhaps you need some riding lessons,” he said, for some reason a small smirk playing on his lips and you pulled your brows together, then shook your head.

“No, I figured it out.”

“Did you?”

“Yes,” you said. “In any case it’s honestly not that difficult, it just takes some time to get used to it. The principles are the same as in France, you mount it, maintain your balance and move and the rest is almost natural.”

He bit down his smirk, tilting his head as a look of mischief crossed his dark eyes.

“…What did I say?” you asked as you looked up at him, blinking in confusion, and he cleared his throat.

“Nothing,” he said “I’m glad it wasn’t just you running away from me then.”

“I couldn’t possibly have a reason to run away from you Lord Bridgerton, I barely know you,” you stated. “Other than what I heard from rumors, that is.”

“Rumors?” he repeated. “Like what?”

“I’d enlighten you about them but I’m sure you already know,” you said, using the same words that he had used back in the ballroom when he was dancing with you, and he clicked his tongue.

“Ah. So you were running away from me after all.”

“I was not!” you protested as you pulled your brows together. “I just—you— I was not. Why would I?”

“I have no idea,” his tone was almost taunting. “Why would you indeed?”

You had no idea whether you wanted to reach out or push him away, especially when that damned smirk appeared on his lips again, causing your whole face to feel like it was on fire.

“I should probably go,” you managed to say, taking a deep breath. “Elias must be wondering where I am and I’ve been told your traditions frown upon private conversations if they take long even in public so... I should go.”

Unlike yours, his voice was completely calm. “Alright.”

“I—I’m leaving.”

“It was a pleasure to see you again, my lady.”

You lingered there for a moment, unable to drag your gaze from him. The frustration of not being able to decipher what this feeling was and why it was affecting you this deeply hit you out of nowhere and you stuck your nose up in the air, your lips pulling into a petulant pout.

“Actually,” you said. “No. I changed my mind, I was here first so you should leave.”

He looked way too amused by your behavior. “Oh is that right?”

“Yes.”

His eyes captured yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “Do you want me to leave?”

You swallowed thickly. “…Yes.”

“Alright,” he said after a beat, as if he enjoyed your fidgeting even though you kept his gaze, your chin raised defiantly. “If that’s what the lady wants.”

“It - it is what I want.” you stumbled over your words, your stomach doing an excited flip as he took a step closer.

“Enjoy the exhibition Lady Y/N,” he murmured, his deep voice making you bite on your lip before he bowed and walked away from you to the other side of the hall.

You waited until you could no longer see him out of the corner of your eye, drumming your fingernails on the thin glass. You bit inside your cheek before downing your lemonade to put it on a tray and made your way through the crowd to find Elias, your heartbeat still echoing in your ears.

“Where were you?” he asked as soon as you reached him and you grabbed another glass from a tray.

“I was um- I was taken by a portrait.”

He hummed absentmindedly. “Did you like it?”

You took a deep breath, then stole a look around the room.

“I’m still trying to figure that out, all I know is that it is rather confusing,” you commented, then took a huge sip to calm yourself down. “Let’s walk around, shall we?”

Chapter 5

                                     *

Taglist:  @theskytraveler​ @archer561​ @pancakefancake​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @alwaysadreamingoptimist​ @davnwillcome​ @breadqueen95 ​

 @sarcasm-n-insomnia @spwinkles @a-sunflower-in-bloom @xoxabs88xox@marvels-mistress @xceafh @ca-ro-ea @nightmonkeyparker @marauderskeeper @evxnesco @mathle0matle @notahappystan @divaanya @empireroyals @dancer3205 @artsyle @nxstalgicnxbxdy @s1riuslyy @mytearsriscochet @marvelbros-oneshots @acupnoodle @albeeox​ @marvels-mistress​  @junezoldyck @artsyle​  

[bumbleklee]

labor and delivery

masterlist | 1k prompt masterlist | pregnancy series

pairings: diluc, kaeya, childe and zhongli x female!reader (separate)

warnings: pregnancy, labor/birth, 5.2k words

a/n: congratulations, you’re a mother <3

diluc

Instead of feeling anxious about your due date being days away, you felt at peace. And it felt like the world was at peace, too. The sun illuminated your kitchen, warm beams of light caressing your body. You could hear birds chirping outside and the stray cat you fed was sitting on a barrel next to the window.

You contemplated going outside to bask in the breeze but opted to stay inside. Despite your pleasant mood, you couldn’t help but feel like something was going to happen today. Your mind pondered the possibilities, skipping over the most obvious one.

Diluc was still asleep when you climbed out of bed. Some of the Knights kept him at the tavern extra late so you decided to let him rest.

You stood in front of the counter of your kitchen and reached up to pull a mug off a shelf. You had been drinking tea for the majority of your pregnancy and you couldn’t wait until you could finally have a mug of coffee again. You hummed to yourself as you filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove.

A sudden, abrupt feeling hit your body like a ton of bricks. The feeling made your body jerk and a gasp left your lips, your hand instinctively covering your baby bump. Your other hand swept across the counter and knocked the ceramic mug onto the ground, leaving the porcelain to break into a million pieces.

Your midwife had described that leading up to the birth of the twins, you might feel braxton hicks. But something inside of you was telling you that this wasn’t just braxton hicks.

And your fears were correct when you felt something warm and wet running down your legs.

You screamed for your husband, panic rising up your throat. The comforting morning you had was thrown out the window as another contraction hit your body. “This can’t be happening,” You said to yourself. You were afraid to move, afraid to do anything, so all you could is yell for Diluc and pray that he heard you.

When Diluc finally heard you calling his name, he shot out of bed. He didn’t even bother to put proper clothes or shoes on, running down the stairs in his pajama set.

“Hey, hey,” Diluc said, shock and confusion written all over his face. “What’s going on?”

“The babies,” You breathed out, “I think they’re coming.”

You watched as the color drained from Diluc’s face. You weren’t supposed to have the twins for another few days. Nothing was set up and Diluc had even given his staff the weekend off. “Oh my god. Oh my god. What should we do? What should I do?”

Another contraction hit before you could answer, sending Diluc into another fit of hysteria. “You need to go into town and get my midwife,” You shakily said, “Like, now.”

“And leave you alone? Oh god, what if you give birth right here?”

You stepped closer to Diluc and pulled on his arms, guiding his hands to your baby bump. “I need you to focus. We can’t have both of us freaking out, okay?” Your husband nodded. “Everything is going to be fine but you need to get my midwife.”

Diluc nodded his head again, more firmly this time. His shaky hands led you to the couch where he knew you would be safe. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and bolted out the door, leaving you alone.

At the sound of the front door closing, you couldn’t stop the tears welling in your eyes. You knew Diluc would be back with your midwife and everything would be fine, like you said moments before, but you couldn’t stop the sheer terror that was creeping through your bones. Were you ready to be a mother? Could you give your babies the life they deserve? Too many questions flooded your mind and for the first time in months, you cried.

They return home within an hour and by then your tears have dried up. You were trying to focus on your breathing instead.

Diluc rushed to you, grateful that you were where he left you. “Is everything okay?” He asked quietly upon seeing your puffy eyes and red cheeks.

You forced a smile onto your lips and nodded, “Everything’s okay.”

“Where are we having this baby?” Your midwife said, interrupting the moment between you and Diluc. He stood up straight and motioned to the stairs.

“The bedroom,” He told her. Your midwife headed upstairs, pulling a rolling chest behind her, and Diluc helped you stand up. His fingers squeezed your hips, “Ready to have a baby?”

You threw your head over your shoulder, “Two babies, ‘Luc.”

For a moment, Diluc’s calm demeanor vanished and you swore you could see a spark of panic in his eyes. But your husband instead just smiled sweetly and helped you walk up the stairs.

Labor was not what you expected. You assumed that when your water broke, you would have your babies moments after but as you laid in the middle of your bed, you realized that wasn’t the case here. Contractions still hit your body every now and then but you were able to rest and even distract yourself from them.

“I’m bored,” You complained to Diluc, nuzzling closer to his warm body beside you.

“Do you want to play a card game?” Diluc asked. When you looked up to give him a deadpanned look, he put his hands up in defense. “What about a book?”

“Are you trying to make me even more bored?”

You wished you were able to leave the bed but as instructed by your midwife, you were on bed rest until the twins were born. Your midwife entered the bedroom again to check you and only gave you a sympathetic smile, “Four centimeters. We’ve got to get you up to ten.”

You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow.

Your midwife left the room again and you sat up (as much as you could). You turned your body awkwardly so you could face Diluc, “Who do you think is going to come first?”

Diluc thought for a moment, “I think Clara will.”

You nodded in agreement, “One of the twins is super active and the other isn’t. I bet it’s Clara. She’s going to be fiery just like you.”

Around midnight your midwife checked you once more. Finally, you were almost ten centimeters dilated. Diluc moved off the bed and pulled up a chair next to it, instantly taking your hand in his. There was another twenty minutes before you felt a contraction that wracked your body. Your hand squeezed Diluc’s so hard he let out a yelp.

Your midwife sprung into action. She was at the foot of the bed in seconds, ready to guide you through the process. “Legs up, good, now just focus on me, okay? When you feel this next contraction, you’re going to push.”

Your chest was rapidly rising and falling and Diluc rubbed your thumb with his. And just like your midwife said, when the next contraction hit your body, you pushed.

The pain that ripped through your body was unlike anything you had felt before. It clouded your vision and you thought you couldn’t breathe. “You’re doing great,” Your midwife assured you, “Once the head is out, the baby will slide out like butter.”

Out of curiosity, Diluc poked his head around the corner of the bed.

And what a horrible decision that was.

“Oh my god,” Diluc mumbled, his face turning pale again. The grip around your hand became loose until his hand fully let go of yours. You heard a thump on the wooden floors and your mouth dropped.

Your midwife stared at your unconscious husband for a moment. “He can wait,” She decided, turning back to you. Your eyes squeezed shut in pain and you gripped the bedsheet beside you. “I see a head,” She smiled. “Ready again?”

You nodded your head before taking in a deep breath and pushing again. But there was no going back now and within moments of that push, you heard the little cries of a newborn baby. You wanted to stop and admire your baby but a gasp made you remember you weren’t done.

“What’s going on?” Diluc said groggily, finally standing off the floor. He was rubbing his head and froze when he saw the mess on the bed.

“Don’t pass out again,” Your midwife said sternly, “You have a daughter to clean up.”

Daughter. Clara was born first like you and Diluc said. Your vision was blurry from tears, the sight of Diluc and Clara distorted.

“Almost there,” Your midwife told you. After a few more minutes of strenuous pushing, relief flooded the lower half of your body. “And there he is.”

You tried to sit up but you were too weak. Two sets of cries could be heard and right now, that was music to your ears. Your son was placed on your chest and soon followed by your daughter. Your arms folded around them. Your midwife smiled as she cleaned up as much as she could before leaving the room to give you and Diluc some privacy.

“You did it,” Diluc said. He was in awe and couldn’t believe this was real life. The babies had tufts of red hair like himself but their nose was yours. Diluc wished he could photograph the sight in front of him. This was the start of your family.

kaeya

When Kaeya woke up in the early hours of the morning, he didn’t understand why at first. The night was peaceful and the bed was more than comfortable. His eyes ghosted to the side to see you still fast asleep. The blanket was pulled up beneath your chin and silent breaths left your mouth. It was only when Kaeya shifted did he realize why he woke up.

The sheets were soaking wet, especially from your side of the bed.

Kaeya’s hands gently shook you awake and you groaned, slowly opening your eyes. “Love, I think you had an accident.”

It took you a moment to register Kaeya’s face in the dark. “What are you talking about?” You asked before feeling the wet sheets yourself. An embarrassed fluster crept onto your cheeks but before you could say anything, a pain crashed down on your body.

“What’s going on?” Kaeya asked, immediately alert to your sudden movement.

“I think my water broke,” You said quietly, rubbing your stomach to try and soothe the ache that was growing. “Kaeya, it’s starting to hurt.”

“What is?” He was on his feet now, running to the other side of the bed to help you sit up. “Is it the baby?”

“I don’t know,” You answered, “I think so. It hurts here.” You motioned to the area underneath your baby bump and frowned. Kaeya helped you get out of bed and change clothes.

“Can you walk?” You nodded. There were spouts of pain with periods of calmness and you were ready to take advantage of those. You and Kaeya weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, you had set up the guest bedroom a week ago. Unfortunately, your midwife was out of town this week.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen until next week,” You said, your voice shaking, “I don’t want to have the baby yet.”

Kaeya chuckled, “That’s not an option.”

Still dazed from your sleep, Kaeya led you to the guest bedroom and you sat on the edge of the bed. Your husband stripped the sheets off the other bed while you rested. Slowly, the fact you were going to have a baby that day was creeping into your mind. You were ready, you knew you were, but the thought was still scary. And your midwife wasn’t around.

Kaeya came back to the bedroom and rubbed your back comfortingly. You were still sitting on the edge of the bed, stiff as a board, eyes squeezing shut and your body tensing when a contraction hit.

“Can you do it yourself?”

His words made you look up in shock. Your husband couldn’t be suggesting you give birth without a guide, right? But when Kaeya looked back at you with a serious look, you felt your stomach drop.

“Look,” Kaeya took your hand in his, “Your midwife is out of town this week and I don’t know anyone else in Mondstadt who knows how to deliver a baby. You read books on childbirth, you’ll know what to do.”

You sucked in a deep breath. He was right - you did read a lot about labor and delivery. It would be hard without anyone there to help you but if your baby was coming, your baby was coming. Kaeya continued to rub your back as you contemplated your decision.

“I’ll do it,” You said, “But I need Jean.”

“What?”

“She’s my best friend. If I can’t have my midwife, then I want Jean.”

Kaeya knew it was useless to argue with you and the quicker he got Jean, the quicker you could get on with the process of labor.

“Alright, alright,” He said, defeated, “But don’t move.”

You promised him and Kaeya left to retrieve Jean. Alone in the house, you wandered the halls. Surprisingly, stretching your legs helped the pain slightly. You stopped outside of the door to your daughter’s nursery. There was a ‘C’ on the door and when you pushed the door open, you were met with a pastel pink wonderland.

There were photos of The Knights of Favonius on the walls and gifts from them littered the room. There was a stuffed rabbit from Amber and handmade clothes from Lisa. Even Diluc had gifted your baby a set of wooden blocks.

Your hand rubbed your baby bump gently, “Soon,” You said aloud. “Soon we’ll meet each other.”

The door to your house opened quickly and inside rushed Jean and Kaeya. Your husband frowned at the sight of you in the nursery and put his hands on his hips, “You promised me you wouldn’t leave the guest room.”

You only shrugged your shoulders and smiled.

Jean looked disheveled. She was wearing her pajamas and her hair was down from her usual ponytail. But she wore a look of determination on her face and you knew you needed her by your side throughout everything.

Once you were back in bed, your labor progressed quickly. The time between your contractions was becoming shorter and shorter and it was hard to catch your breath. Sharp pains were rocketing down your spine and bubbling in your abdomen and you didn’t know how you were going to survive this.

“Just breathe,” Jean said. She didn’t know anything about childbirth but when Kaeya came banging on her door in a panic, she knew you needed her.

Since you were in charge of your own delivery, you had to check yourself often. It was becoming increasingly harder to do but you knew it was important. “I'm seven centimeters,” You told your company. When they looked at you with a blank expression, you said, “It’s going to happen soon.”

Kaeya whispered affirmations in your ear, trying to distract you from the pain as you waited around. Jean brought you a cold washcloth and placed it on your forehead. You sighed in relief and leaned back against the mountain of pillows. While Jean looked at the various things scattered around the room, Kaeya leaned closer to your face.

“You’re a warrior,” He told you, his forehead almost touching yours. “We’re almost there. Just think about holding little Calla.”

You groaned as another contraction hit your body. “It just hurts so much.”

“I know, I know,” Kaeya pressed a kiss to your nose. You closed your eyes and tried to think about something relaxing. You knew you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, not with contractions wracking your body every few minutes at least.

For a while, you stayed like that. Jean and Kaeya talked quietly about work in the background, pausing to look at you when a contraction hit, and birds were beginning to chirp from outside. You imagined holding baby Calla in your arms with Kaeya beside you. He would be mesmerized by your daughter and you would be so, so in love. And maybe there would be more children down the road. A nice, big family with Kaeya sounded beautiful.

You were ripped from your daydream when a horrible contraction hit your body. It was unlike the others and your legs went numb. Kaeya was by your side in an instant, noticing the change in your reaction.

A sudden urge to push overwhelmed your body. “I can’t do it,” You cried out, your hands trying to find something to grasp onto. Tears were streaming down your face and Kaeya’s heart sank. He hated seeing you like this, especially since the cause of your sadness was from your own fears.

But instead of Kaeya speaking up, Jean rested her hands gently on yours. “Look at me,” She said softly. You sniffled and turned to face your friend, “You can do this. You’re ready and you’re strong. The pain is temporary but you’ll have your baby forever.”

You nodded your head furiously and tried to zone into yourself. You repeated what your childbirth books said, waiting to push until you felt a contraction. Jean rushed around the room and Kaeya held your hand despite you crushing it.

“Is that her head?” Kaeya asked quickly, peering over your legs. He grinned and turned back to you, “Almost there! You got this!”

You had to take a pause to take a deep breath. You felt like there was water in your lungs and you wondered how a human body could endure this much pain. When the next contraction hit, you pushed as hard as you could and squeezed down onto Kaeya’s hand.

A rush of relief washed over your body like a tsunami. You were quick to reach down and pick up your baby, mouth agape that you did that all by yourself. The room was filled with silence until it wasn’t, a tiny cry breaking the air.

Jean handed you a fluffy towel and you quickly wrapped Calla in it, wiping her eyes and nose. “Congratulations,” She said softly, “She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” The words tumbled from your mouth in a whisper.

Kaeya kissed your forehead, “I’m so proud of you.”

childe

“She’s nesting,” Zhongli said matter-of-factly, “Like an animal.”

Truthfully, you were nesting. You wouldn’t call it nesting, of course, but the way you were arranging your birthing room was eerily similar. Your baby was due any day now and you were getting anxious about things being perfect. Your midwife had already come by to set up her things and now it was time to set up your things.

A photo of you and Childe sat on the end table, next to a copy of your latest ultrasound. Three of Childe’s sweaters were thrown over the back of the bed and when Childe asked why you needed three, you couldn’t give him a final answer.

After putting a candle down on the adjacent end table, you proudly rejoined the men in the living room.

“How’s the nest coming, Birdie?” Childe grinned, moving over so you could sit beside him.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, “It’s coming along great, thank you very much.”

Childe laughed and wrapped his arm around you. You were content, feeling calm and secure in the moment. You were ready to have your baby and you refused to let it consume you. You were lost in your thoughts when Childe shook you back to reality.

“Are you peeing on me?” He asked, a confused look on his face.

“What?” You exclaimed, looking down. Your pants were soaked from something, darkening them as well as the couch. You felt a sharp pain in your abdomen and your hand raced out to hold your baby bump, “Whoa, he just kicked me hard.”

Childe raised an eyebrow at your weird behavior. “Are you okay?”

You nodded and stood up, looking at the mess you made. “Sorry, I’ll get a towel,” You said. Zhongli paid no mind, trying to understand that you were a heavily pregnant woman, while Childe continued to tease you from down the hall.

You reached for the towel in the bathroom and were met with another pain. You rubbed your belly, “It’s okay, Nikolai.”

Heading back to the living room, you wore a frown on your face. “Is everything okay?” Childe asked, taking the towel from you. His jokes had died off and him and Zhongli were looking at you with concern.

“Um, I don’t think I peed myself,” You said quietly, “I don’t feel good.”

Childe jumped to his feet, “What’s wrong?” His hand came up to caress your cheek as he watched you, trying to see if something was physically wrong. “Are you hurting?”

You managed a nod before another contraction hit your body. You gasped and held onto the bed of the couch for support. “That really hurt.”

Thankfully Zhongli was a man with common sense. “Are you going into labor?” He asked, reaching out to hold onto your arms. “Where does it hurt?”

“Here,” You said, pointing to your stomach.

Zhongli nodded firmly, “I see. Are you expecting a midwife?”

“We are,” Childe answered, running a hand through his hair. “Zhongli, can you stay here while I run and grab her?”

“Certainly.”

Childe turned to look at you and cupped your face again, “Don’t stress, okay? Zhongli is going to be right here if anything happens. I’ll be back in no time.” Your boyfriend ran out the front door and you collapsed down onto the couch, breathing hard.

“Can I get you anything?” Zhongli asked, unsure of what to do. “Water?”

“I’m good,” You said, clenching your teeth. “Can you help me get to the bedroom?”

Zhongli nodded and you held onto his arm. You were trying to regulate your breathing but it was coming out in rough, short breaths instead. You stopped in your tracks when the pain came back, flowering itself inside of you. You groaned and leaned forward, Zhongli needed to wrap his arm around you to steady you.

He helped you in the bed and you instantly grabbed one of Childe’s sweatshirts off the bed. You hugged the fabric tightly and inhaled the comforting scent of your boyfriend. Zhongli paced the room, getting more concerned when your pain was only increasing.

But, thankfully, Childe and your midwife returned home quickly. Zhongli wished you the best and took his leave. You were still holding onto Childe’s sweatshirt.

Your midwife checked you and you were only three centimeters dilated. “I think this is going to be a slow process,” She said sympathetically, “Is there anything you want to do in the meantime?”

“Can I take a bath?” You asked, your ears perking up.

She nodded, “Just call for me if needed.”

Childe helped you out of the bed and kissed the top of your head before helping you to the bathroom. He filled the bath and stripped your clothes, helping you into the tub. Childe sat on the toilet, an excited grin on his face.

“What are you smiling about?” You asked, a smile creeping onto your lips too.

“Just thinking about how we’ll have a baby to hold tonight,” He said. “Teucer is going to be so excited when he hears.”

You hummed in response and leaned back, submerging your body fully in the water. Surprisingly, being in the water helped with your pain. You still felt contractions but they weren’t as breathtaking in the bath. You stayed in the bath for what seemed like hours.

Suddenly, something snapped inside of you. “Oh, shit,” You cried out, hunching forward. “Get the midwife, Childe!”

Your boyfriend shot off his feet to grab your midwife while you cried out again. She hurried into the bathroom and bent down to you. “I’m going to check you.” Her face paled slightly after removing her fingers, “You need to give birth now.”

“What?” You nearly screamed, “Right now?”

“The bath must have sped up the process,” Your midwife explained. You looked at Childe and panic coursed through your eyes. You tried to sit up straight, ready to get out of the bath, but your midwife stopped you. “There’s really no time to dry off and move to the bed. You’ll have to give birth here.”

Your eyes widened, “But I’m in the bath!”

“It’s safest this way,” She said. Your midwife instructed Childe to get some things and when he came back, he sat by the edge of the tub and held your hand. “You’ll need to push the next time you feel a contraction.”

A feeling of upset was bubbling in your throat, “But...but everything is in the bedroom.” You thought about the photos and the candle and the sweatshirts and felt tears welling in your eyes. You wanted to have your baby in the bedroom, not here.

Childe kissed your fingertips, catching your attention. “I’m sorry this wasn’t your plan,” He said, “But you need to listen to your midwife. You want to meet Nikolai, right?”

You nodded, a few tears falling loose. “I do,” You said.

“Then let’s have a baby.”

Childe wrapped his hand tightly around yours and interlocked your fingers. He squeezed it comfortingly and didn’t even flinch when your contraction hit and you nearly broke his fingers. You let out a string of curses, mostly towards Childe, and pushed.

“This sucks! This really sucks!” You cried out, wondering how you were going to get through this.

“You can do it!” Childe assured you.

“Almost there,” Your midwife said, “I see the head.”

It took one more contraction for your son to be born. Immediately, he was placed on your chest and you had to shake your head to focus on reality. “Oh my god,” You muttered, turning to look at Childe. He was grinning ear to ear.

Your midwife wrapped the baby in a towel, cleaning his nose and mouth, before handing him to Childe. She helped you get out of the bath and you almost fell over, your legs feeling like jelly. She wrapped a bigger towel around you and as you gazed behind her, all you could see was the beautiful way Childe looked down at your son.

zhongli

“Watch out, pregnant woman coming through!”

Xinqiu and Xiangling held onto your arms as Chongyun cleared a path through the crowd. Like usual, the teenagers were being your honorary protectors while Zhongli was at work. They took you to the Wanmin Restaurant and Xiangling disappeared momentarily to bring out platters of food.

Your midwife told you that it was best for you to stay home, since your due date was at the end of the week, but you thought one last outing with the kids couldn’t hurt.

“You’re getting bigger each time you come around,” Chef Mao called through the opening of the storefront.

You laughed, “Well, I’m almost at term!”

Xiangling piled your plate high with food, “More for the baby.” Frankly, it was nice being pampered by the teenagers like this. They were selfless, especially towards your unborn baby, and everyday they surprised you.

You were shoving a dumpling in your mouth when an odd feeling struck your abdomen and water gushed onto your pants, the seat, and the ground. Based on your facial expression, the kids knew something was wrong.

“What’s happening?” Xinqiu asked.

“I think my water just broke,” You told him, groaning as a harsh pain swept over you.

“Oh, no.”

In that moment, you were reminded that despite their maturity, they were still children. Panic spread throughout the three of them and they began debating what to do with you.

“Let’s bring her to the infirmary!” Xiangling argued.

“Why would we do that? Let’s bring her home!” Xingqiu shot back.

You held back another groan, “Guys, don’t fight about this.”

But they didn’t seem to hear you. Chongyun’s eyes flickered back and forth before running a hand through his hair, “I think you should bring Y/N home and I’ll get Zhongli.”

“We need to go now,” You said. Xiangling and Xingqiu held onto your arms like before and immediately started towards your house. Chongyun took off in the opposite direction. “Fuck, this hurts,” You muttered, stopping to ride out a contraction. “Excuse my language.”

“It’s okay, we know you’re in pain,” Xiangling says.

Finally, the teenagers get you home and you sit down on the couch. You would wait to move to the bedroom when Zhongli came home. You breathed deeply and Xinqiu spoke up, “Look on the bright side, it’s only going to get worse from here. So this can’t be that bad, right?”

Xiangling glared daggers at him, “I thought you were smart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at their banter. The pain you were experiencing was worse than anything you had ever felt in your life but with the kids nearby, the pain was bearable. They would make great siblings to your daughter.

Chongyun and Zhongli burst through the front door, startling you. Your midwife was right behind them. Your head was hanging low and you were clenching your jaw each time a contraction hit. His large hands rested on your back and he rubbed your shoulders, “Thank you, kids. I’ve got it from here.”

“Good luck!” Xiangling beamed before ushering the two boys out the door with her.

Zhongli lifted you up by your shoulders and his heart nearly broke when he saw your face. Your eyes were wet and puffy and your nose was already stuffy. Any calmness you had was gone as pure panic and pain overtook your senses.

“Can you stand?” He asked, wanting to move you to the bedroom. You shook your head and Zhongli managed to pick up your body, carrying you to the bedroom. He helped you change before you climbed into the bed, feeling dazed and scared at the same time.

Your body felt weak and you hadn’t even begun giving birth. Your midwife was talking to you but you couldn’t seem to pay attention.

“I’ll need your help,” She said to Zhongli, “You’ll need to grab her leg and hold it steady.” He nodded and did as told. Your midwife grabbed your other leg and you barely looked up. You could feel the pain and you knew what was going on, but you couldn’t comprehend it. The pain was unbearable but you did what your body was telling you.

A gasp left your mouth and Zhongli said something to you. There was pressure and pain, a lot of pain, and then suddenly it was gone. The last thing you saw before your vision went black was the blurry silhouette of your baby.

When you came to, the room was quiet. Your eyes adjusted to the light and you looked around before stopping on your husband. Zhongli sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the bedroom, holding a little bundle in your arms.

“Hey,” You said, your voice hoarse and low. Zhongli looked up and immediately came over to you. Without words, your baby was placed in your arms. “She’s so tiny.”

“I was so worried,” Zhongli said, brushing your hair back to press a kiss to your forehead. “How do you feel?”

“Sore and tired and achy.”

Zhongli slid into the bed next to you and wrapped his arms around your frame, leaning his chin on your shoulder. “She has your nose,” He whispered. Despite having a traumatic labor, it was all worth it.

[writingfics-passingtime]

Family Feud

Word count: ~5700

Pairing: Loki x female!reader (romantic)

CW: difficult family relationships, light swearing, mentions of violence

Based on a prompt from the lovely @okamiyami93, who asked for Loki comforting a female!reader after she has a late-night fight with her father over the phone 💜

Family can be tricky. Politics can be tricky. Put family and politics together, and dammit it made your life difficult.

“Dad, please,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose and shutting your eyes. “It’s late, and I can’t keep explaining the same things over and over-”

“That’s because you can’t argue with my logic!”

“You don’t have logic!” You shot back. “Nothing you say has any logical conclusion. It’s all designed to make you feel smart, feel superior,” you finally lost it. “Do you seriously think I, your only daughter, would willingly engage in something that harms people?!”

“Well, that’s exactly my point,” he snarked through the phone. “You can’t see all the little lies they’re spinning. You can’t put out the fire from inside the house!”

“Everything I do is to keep the world from setting on fire, Dad. Do you honestly think I’ve been duped? You really didn’t raise me better than that?!” You started getting more targeted with your attacks, noticing your voice was raising but being unable to completely stop it.

“And now you’re attacking me instead of my argument,” your Dad replied, an air of victory to his voice. “That tells me everything I need to know. Sweetheart, we love you, but you need to take an honest look in the mirror.”

You felt hot tears of frustration sting your eyes. “There is nothing I can say that will ever convince you you’re wrong,” you seethed, standing and pacing your room. “Dad, it scares me, the way you think,” you choked out. “I’m scared you’re gonna do something stupid and illegal in the name of these little groups you’ve joined. In the name of the people you’ve put your trust in.”

“And it scares me knowing my daughter is so involved,” he replied, disappointment dripping from his voice. “Do you know how hard it is, explaining to my friends what you do? How you’re so complicit?”

“Hey, Dad,” you almost yelled. “I dismantled a hostage situation in a classified Middle-Eastern country last week. I saved thirty-six people, including twenty-one children, from certain death! When’s the last time you did something for the world other than posting on social media?!” You cried, breathing heavily as he was silent on the other end.

“… You still can’t answer my questions about-”

“Dad-”

“-the government’s involvement in-”

“DAD!” You shouted, then immediately lowered your voice to a loud whisper. “Dad, just… stop. Stop,” you sniffed, feeling tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t.”

It broke your heart to have these same conversations over and over again. Trying to reasoning with someone who didn’t want to be reasoned with - not in a real way, anyways. It sucked to watch the man who raised you get sucked into all these crazy divisive theories, to watch those theories turn you into the enemy, to see the seeds of his mistrust grow into a mighty thorny bush that strangled the life out of your family.

You’d lost count of the number of conversations you’d had with him, trying to explain (around what was classified) that you weren’t invovled in some evil government scheme. Not at all. Your entire career with the Avengers, everything you did to train and fight to get here, was to protect everyone. Protect as a first priority. Avenge if you fail the first time around. It was simple, it was good, you trusted the people you reported to. It was an indescribable pain, to have your own parents think you were some sort of villain.

You didn’t know how much of it your mother believed and how much of her agreement with your father was just her trying to not rock the boat. Either way, there was very little reasoning with either of them.

After this evening, after another long and frustrating phone call, when you hung up, you let out a loud groan of frustration and spoke to the void, “Why does he have to be like this?!” It came out louder than you’d hoped, but it was said. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you put your face in your hands and let yourself cry out your frustrations.

No one on the team knew about your parents reservations. Or, perhaps a more accurate description would be, their downright distaste. They were so supportive when you were growing up, of anything you wanted to do. Halfway through your Agent training, something changed. Your Dad started spending a lot more time online, started sending you links to strange websites that looked satirical at first, but you soon realised he was falling down a rabbit-hole. By the time you’d had a week off and went home to try talking some sense into him, it was far too late. Now, here you were, wondering if you would one day see your father’s name on a list of National Security Threats. The worst part was, it felt hopeless. Like watching a car crash in slow motion.

After crying until you’d had your fill, you did some breathing exercises to calm yourself down. Tonight, however, it hit you much harder than before. Maybe it was his parting comment, maybe you were tired from a few weeks of taxing missions, but you were finding it hard to calm down completely. Remembering some kind of lavender sleepy tea in the kitchen, you pulled a hoodie over your tank top, propping the hood up to hide your face in case you passed someone, and set out for the kitchen to make a hot, soothing drink.

Making your way down the hallway, you closed your eyes and rubbed the sleeves of your hoodie over your face to wipe away the tears. That proved to be a mistake. Two more barefoot steps with your eyes closed, and your foot hit something that felt frustratingly familiar.

“Dahammit, Peter,” you sniffed, grumbling aloud as you looked down to see you’d stepped in a discarded pile of his web fluid. The kid had been walking around for days with defective web shooters, this was bound to happen. But why you, and why now?

Quickly wiping another silent tear, you sat down on the cool marble floor and got to work trying to pull the webs from your skin. The more you tried to untangle it from around your foot and between your toes, the more frustrated you became. At least this web couldn’t say things that hurt your feelings - it was a safe thing to be mad at; it couldn’t discount your entire career, make you feel helpless.

If it wasn’t late in the evening, if your eyes weren’t still tear-stained, maybe you would’ve yelled out for someone to come help you. But it was past midnight, your fingers were getting sticky, your foot wasn’t becoming any less trapped, and you felt more hot tears springing to your eyes by the second.

“Dammit,” you sniffed again, then pulled yourself forwards to rest your elbows against your knees, your forehead against the heels of your palms, careful to not get your sticky fingers near your hair as you let your chest shake with a few silent cries. You were so focused on being silent, on keeping the sobs trapped in your chest, that you barely heard the approaching footsteps. Not until the towering form was directly behind you did you realise he was there. “Oh god,” you sniffed, hiding your cheeks that weren’t just red from tears, but were now red from embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m fine- fine, I’m fine,” you babbled, trying very quickly to pull yourself together as Loki knelt in front of you.

Your trapped foot was between the two of you, still fixed to the ground. He inspected it carefully, wordlessly, perhaps trying to show that he wasn’t looking at your face. Bless him, for not making some quip about crying over spilt web fluid. “Is there any kind of solution to dissolve this?” He finally looked up into your eyes, and gave no indication of pity. You wiped your face again, just in case any tears remained, and racked your brain for the answer.

“Um, maybe in the lab. But if you could just cut it away, I… I can find that later, I just wanted some tea,” you kept fumbling words out, trying to explain why you were up so late at night. Loki looked at you for a few more moments, finally breaking the charade that you hadn’t been crying. You sighed and pulled on your foot again, prompting Loki to look back down and conjure a blade.

As he sliced away at the webs with great care, you couldn’t help the blush that crept back into your cheeks. Here you were, face puffy from crying, old pyjama shorts peeking out from below a faded grey hoodie, in the presence of a god. It seemed foolish, that he’d be helping you so delicately. Part of you wished anyone else would have found you, but the selfish part of you was relieved to have an opportunity to see how he would respond to a situation like this; a situation in which you were vulnerable. As mortifying as it was to sit here like this, you were comforted by the kindness in his tone, in his touch.

Once he finished cutting away large parts of it and only the smaller bits remained, he stood and held a hand down to you. You stood on your non-stick foot, hesitant to put in on the ground where it could become stuck again. Letting go of his hand, you spun on your good foot and took a hop towards the lab.

He let out an amused breath, and was by your side in a second. One arm slid around your waist and one took your hand, throwing it around his shoulder before you could fully get your protest out. “N-no, Loki, I’m okay,” you sniffed. “I can get there myself.”

“I’d need to follow you anyway,” Loki said, guiding you down as you hopped beside him. “Make sure I wouldn’t awake in the morning to find you fixed to the floor down a wayward hall.” You let yourself smile in thanks as you kept hopping beside him, struggling a bit to manoeuvre around the sheer height difference. He paused and let out a breath. “Might I-”

“Go for it,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “My pride is already irredeemably shattERED!” You almost squeaked, gods could you imagine squeaking, as Loki swept you into his arms and carried you bridal-style towards the lab. He bit back a smirk at how he’d caught you off guard, and you tried to not be too obvious as you let yourself feel all the places your body touched his. His strength was impressive, evident, his body solid and warm and… safe. Being in the arms of the God of Mischief should probably have made you feel insecure, inadequate maybe, but you just felt safe. “Sorry for intruding on whatever you were doing,” you mumbled, finally breaking the silence as FRIDAY opened the doors to the lab.

Loki walked over to a workbench. “You didn’t intrude,” he assured, setting you on the table with your feet dangling over the edge. “Would you like to ask the machine?” He stood up straight and looked you in the eyes, his own not showing any indication of annoyance or disdain. That made you relax, and then you realised what he’d asked you.

“FRIDAY? Web-fluid dissolvent? Safe for human skin.”

“Over here,” the voice replied, then a light flashed next to a cabinet. Loki walked over and opened it without you having to ask, sorting through the labelled bottles and canisters until he found a large bottle with a spray top. He read the instructions for a few moments and then pulled out a box next to it, bringing them both over to the workbench.

“He’s left an apology,” Loki told you, handing you the bottle as he flipped open the small metal box. The latches of it clinked against the table as you smiled at Peter’s note he’d left.

Sorry if you have to use this!! It doesn’t sting, I promise.

“That’s cute,” you commented, then read that he’d instructed you to administer a few sprays against a rag and soak the webs until they break down, the wipe them away. Loki reached out to take the bottle from you and you stammered, “O-oh, I’ve got it, it’s okay,” you smiled, holding your hand out for the rag.

“You’ve put your fingers on that, haven’t you?” Loki smirked good-naturedly and watched as you tried to release the bottle, having completely forgotten the fluid had gotten your fingertips too. Biting your lip, you felt yourself blush again. “Allow me,” he reached out again and you held it away. He gave you a questioning look.

“This is so far beneath you,” you sighed, hanging your head in embarrassment. “You don’t need to wipe webs off my vile feet.”

“Nothing about you is vile,” Loki chuckled. So casually, in fact, you nearly believed him. It threw you off enough for him to grab the top part of the bottle and squeeze a few sprays onto the rag. He held it to your fingers around the plastic bottle and let it soak in. “This’ll have to settle for longer, since they’re stuck to something,” he said, still smirking.

“Is this funny to you?” You challenged, but with humour in your voice.

“Humour is a tool to cope with difficulty. What can we do, lest sometimes laugh at ourselves, and others,” Loki replied, holding the rag to your free fingers, letting the solution soak in before wiping away the stickiness. He was thorough, going one finger at a time. “Are you okay?”

His abrupt question nearly made you flinch, and it certainly made you hold your breath. Not knowing how to reply, not wanting to lie to him, or tell the truth, you took your time and thought of what to say. In the meantime, Loki looked up to your face, then looked back down. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I find it a rather reprehensible thing, actually. The walls are surprisingly thin for a place such as this.”

“Ah,” was all you could muster. You sniffed again, shifting in your seat as he closed the rag around your middle finger.

“I’m not asking you to trust me with your interpersonal secrets,” Loki clarified, wiping the webs away with a delicate and firm pull of the rag. “I just want to know if you’re okay.”

A soft smile found it’s way to your lips, and maybe a bit of heat to your cheeks, as Loki closed the rag around your ring finger and lightly squeezed. “That’s very kind of you,” you said, just above a whisper. “I’ll be okay,” you nodded.

“You’ll be, or you are?”

“I don’t know. It’s just my Dad,” you sighed, letting out the tense breath in your lungs. “He’s… difficult. He doesn’t understand what I do. Or he doesn’t like it. I don’t know.”

“But you’re good,” Loki’s brow furrowed. He twisted the rag around your ring finger and pulled it away. You then realised how calming the sensation was. You smiled at that, and at his compliment.

“Politics and family don’t really mix well,” you admitted sheepishly. “My dad is convinced I’m working for the government. He’s convinced the government is a front for an evil underground cabal and that by being an Avenger… I’m in on it. In on hurting children, in on spreading fear and hate and all the bad things in the world.”

“I’m sorry.”

Thinking back on it, that was perhaps the first time you’d heard those words from his lips. It caught you a little off-guard, but you quickly recovered and tried to shift the focus from your over-sharing.

“You understand difficult fathers,” you shrugged.

“It’s different,” Loki hummed thoughtfully, wiping the webs from your pinky and then inspecting your hand for more. “My father had reason to mistrust me.”

“My father thinks he has his reason,” you bit your lip. “He thinks he’s doing the right thing, by telling me to get lost.”

“He what?” Loki looked up and placed the rag, and his hand, against the bench and looked at you with such pained confusion in his eyes. Seeing Loki‘s heart hurt for you threatened your eyes with tears once again, so you looked away and tested your fingers against the bottle, finding they were loosening but not quite unstuck.

You shrugged, willing the tears away. “Holidays coming up,” you mumbled, feet fidgeting nervously. “He’s made it clear I’m not welcome at home until I’ve seen the error of my ways,” you sang his words, trying to use humour to deal with the difficulty, but the smile dropped as fast as you’d formed it. “I’m okay,” you lifted your head to look Loki dead in the eyes, hard as it was to not get lost in them. His blue gaze flashed with an anger, a pain, a familiar feeling of being cast out. An unlikely comrade, he was, here, cleaning webs from your fingers.

He reached over and sprayed the bottle onto the rag once more, then reached down and grabbed your ankle in his hand. You tugged on it in protest, “Wait, Loki, I can do it.”

“If you‘re uncomfortable I’ll relent, but if you’re worried about being any sort of burden, know it’s my pleasure to assist you,” he said earnestly, and you finally dropped your protests, nodding that it was fine for him to continue. Truth be told, it was nice to have someone to look after you.

“Is there another rag? I think my fingers are coming off the bottle,” you looked to the box, and Loki reached over to grab another. He held it up for you to use your free hand to spray against the fabric, then passed it to you for you to begin working away at the sticky fluid with the dissolvent. “I’m really okay, Loki. It’s been this bad since I joined SHIELD. I mean, it got worse when I joined the Avengers, but he got sucked into this stuff when I was a teenager. I’m used to it.”

“Are you aware there are small corners of your World Wide Web which believe my attack on New York was staged by your government?”

“Are you aware my Dad believes that?” You laughed, lest you cry. Loki eyed you warily as he pressed the rag to the heel of your foot, lifting an eyebrow to question you. You chuckled, shaking your head as you freed your thumb. “I know,” you muttered. Desperate to get your mind off your family, you looked at him and tilted your head in question. “What else have you heard about yourself?”

“Let‘s see,” a smirk spread across his lips. You pulled on your fingers and managed to free them all from the bottle with a victorious hiss. Getting to work on them as he thought, you looked over to your foot. “I had a woman approach me on the street and ask how it felt to be playing a Greek god in a grand scheme.”

“The audacity,” you gasped in mock horror. “Don’t worry, the people that matter know you’re a Roman god,” you teased. He snapped his head up and you winked, showing you knew he was Norse. Chuckling, he looked down and wiped away the webs at your heel just as you’d finished cleaning two fingers. Your eyes widened and you tried very hard not to flinch.

Oh... no. Oh no. This was going to end badly for you.

Loki reached for the bottle, careful to avoid the residual sticky patches left by your fingers, and sprayed more onto the rag, blissfully unaware that his swiping against your foot had tickled you.

You knew your body well enough, had enough physiotherapy and sports massage appointments, to know how ticklish you were and where. Even though your feet weren’t your worst spot, they were at the level where you couldn’t bear getting a professional pedicure. You also knew: the closer to your toes, the more ticklish your foot was. Loki’d started at the least ticklish place on your foot. It could only get worse from here.

Wringing the rag around your middle finger, you decided to attempt getting your fingers clean as fast as you could and then take over from Loki before it got to the point where you couldn’t hide the ticklish feeling anymore. “Any others?” You asked nonchalantly, hoping that keeping him talking would slow his progress on the webs.

“Hmm,” he smiled, then began telling you a story of when he was visiting Norway with Thor, checking in on New Asgard, and how a group of people had set up a covert operation nearby to spy on them, to prove something or the other. They were most shocked when Thor and Loki knocked on their door, telling them to get lost. In the meantime, your ring finger was almost clean. “This is working well,” he commented, then wiped away the webs at the sole of your foot. You sucked your teeth silently and tried to send your mind elsewhere, disguising the involuntary tensing of your leg with a shift on the table, feigning movement to get more comfortable. “I spoke too soon,” he hummed, pressing the rag in and taking another swipe. You cleared your throat and got the final bits off your ring finger.

One finger left. Maybe you should leave it sticky and get the hell out of dodge.

Loki pinched at the very centre of your foot with the rag, pulling a string of web away, before flipping the cloth over to spray on the cleaner side.

“I can take it from here,” you nodded kindly, casually. He gave you a look and brought the rag back to your skin to soak at the place where your arch became the ball of your foot. The mere feeling of the rough fabric shifting against the skin made you want to flinch, so you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle when he wiped it away. The fluid soaked into your pinky finger and you willed yourself to be patient, waiting for the moment you could wipe the last of it.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Hmm?” You met his eye and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, fine,” you smiled. “I appreciate you helping me out. Here, I’m all done. How about I take over there and you do the bottle.” You picked it up to hold it out to him, then accidentally slamming it down from instinct when Loki swiped the rag across the soft skin just beneath the ball of your foot. Facade broken, you spluttered out a few giggles and braced your hands against the edge of the table, jerking your foot in his grasp.

Loki looked at you with an insufferable smirk on his lips, an endeared smile laced between the mischief. “Ah,” he clicked his tongue. “It all makes sense now.”

“Yeah, alright,” you rolled your eyes and tried to pull your foot from his hand, but he didn’t let go. “Loki…” you warned as he shifted the rag in his hand and sniffed, widened his smirk and locked eyes with you.

“We’re not done, darling,” he said in a low, dangerous drawl. He pulled a swift turn and secured your foot in the crook of his elbow, pressing the rag against the ball of your foot and holding it there firmly.

“Noho, Loki,” you whined and tugged on your foot. In order to prevent you from yanking yourself forward to tumble off the bench, he allowed you bend your knee to the point where his backside was against the counter, your legs either side of him. “Loki!” You tried to hold in your giggles.

“Nearly there,” he promised, the grin evident in his voice.

“Loki, I’m being serious,” you scolded, but if you could hear the playfulness in your own voice, Loki certainly could.

Loki would probably have relented if he thought you meant it, but part of you was grateful for the distraction. Especially a distraction from the person who made your heart flutter with a mere look.

“Ready?” He turned his head to look at you from the corner of his eye and began wiping roughly against the ball of your foot, not trying in the slightest to be careful.

You burst into frantic giggling laughter, pulling helplessly on your foot as Loki’s fingers pressed against the sensitive skin through the rag. “P-plehease,” you leaned forward and grabbed his shoulders, squeezing and shaking them as you shook and jolted with the ticklish sparks being sent through your entire foot.

“I think I need more solution,” Loki teased, holding up the rag.

“Hell no, you’re not making me compLICIHIT LOKI!” You fell back into laughter as he resumed swiping at the skin.

“I can’t move on if you don’t help me,” he shrugged. You whimpered and tapped on his shoulders to signal defeat, picking up the bottle to spray the rag with a defeated groan. “Cahalm down, love,” he chuckled. “Last one.”

When he closed the rag over and around your toes, you immediately tensed and began twitching with every shift of the fabric.

“Oh dear,” Loki commented.

“I can d-do it myhyself,” you twitched, then winced, trying to hold in your giggles.

“You’re not going to smack your head on anything, are you?” Loki turned to get a better look at where he’d sat you. Pouting at him, then glowering, you shook your head and pushed at his shoulders in a futile attempt to ward him off his attack. “Do you need something to bite down on?” He teased.

“Oh, shut it,” you huffed, resting your forehead against the back of his shoulder, too tired to really think through the implications.

“It’s rather adorable.”

“Really,” you rolled your eyes, twitching again when he readied his hold to wipe the last of the webs away.

“Mhmm,” he agreed. “I rather like seeing you laugh.”

“There are easier ways.”

“Quite the contrary.”

A split-second later he began squeezing and grinding the rag all over your toes. You let out a giggly scream and shot backwards from his shoulder, catching yourself against the large work table to be propped up by your elbows, pulling on your foot as Loki kneaded the scratchy rag all around your toes. Your laughter pitched up as he slotted the rag between them, and you fell with your back against the clean, metal surface as he picked up his pace and roughly cleaned the last of it. Slamming a fist against the table, you growled through your laughter at Loki’s amused chuckle.

After several more agonising moments of him running the rag over the space under your toes, he finally released your foot and turned to face you. “Alright, there?” He laughed, sliding a hand over to squeeze at your side. You squeaked, dammit squeaked, and shot a hand down to catch his, finally sitting up.

When you did, it caught you off-guard to be face-to-face with Loki. He was so much taller than most mortals, even taller than the super soldiers, so you’d never been level with his face before. A ticklish smile still on your lips, your hand still on his, his hand still on your waist, you tried to give him a playfully firm look. “Thanks for your help, Loki,” you nodded, and turned to pick up the bottle. When you did, his ducked his head to follow your gaze.

“I am sorry,” he nodded. “About your troubles with your father.”

You smiled, this time with a hint of sadness, nodding to accept his kind words.

“Would it perhaps help, if I…”

You lifted your head. “If you what?”

“He doesn’t believe in me. Should I instil the fear of Odin in him? I could conjure some blades, show my power- why are you laughing?”

Giggling into the back of your hand, you looked at him, beyond smitten. “That’s very sweet of you,” you grinned. “He’d no doubt find a way to explain it away, but it’s sweet of you to ahask,” your giggles turned to laughter at the though of Loki performing magic in your parents’ living room.

“Are you laughing at me?” He asked, mischief in his voice. You knew what that meant, so you tried to pull yourself together.

“No, I Nono, I’m nohot,” you snorted, unable to hold it together from how flustered you were by his playful glare, and how tired you were from it being the early hours of the morning.

“Agent, you’re just asking for it now,” he scoffed and shot his hands over to knead his thumbs in beside your hipbones. You shrieked and jumped, curling in on yourself as you tried to push your hands away through your laughter.

“Lohokihi,” you snivelled and squeaked, squirming under his ticklish touch. “L-Lo-LOKI!” Crumpling further, your forehead this time rested against the front of his shoulder as you tried to put your fingers in between his fingers and your hips. He merely responded by tickling up your sides and digging his fingers into the middle of your ribs, clawing all around the spaces where your back met your sides. “NO!” You exploded in laughter and tried pulling yourself away, already substantially weakened.

With your arms helplessly clamped by your sides, and your knees lifting to curl yourself into a little ball, your abdomen tensed with laughter at the ticklish onslaught. Loki suddenly retracted his hands, shifted your half-curled body to be fully on the table, then attempted to worm his way into the tightly-shut spaces under your arms. “Noho wahay!” Eyes shut tight, you shook your head in protest, completely giving away the one spot you didn’t want him to reach.

“Have you always been so ticklish?”

“PLEHEASE!” You laughed and turned to face him to protect your back from his digging fingers. He shot a hand down between your limbs to claw at your belly though the thick fabric of your hoodie, making you bubble in streaming giggles. A few quick squeezes at your knee made you kick out, so he grabbed your hip and drilled his thumb and squeezed up the length of your side, making you fall into a new spout of laughter.

“Come now,” he chuckled, grabbed both your wrists in one hand, and pulled you off the edge of the table, forcing you to outstretch your legs to land on the ground standing.

To your surprise, he released you. Smiling fondly, lingering his gaze for several moments, Loki then turned to place the elements back in the cabinet. You relaxed and yawned - a yawn he caught when he turned back around after shutting the door.

“Still need that cup of tea?” He looked on quizzically. You thought for a moment, and then nodded. An outstretched arm motioned for you to lead the way, and Loki trailed behind you through the tables until you reached out for the door. The second your arm lifted, after you’d finally let your guard down, he slotted both hands up and dug harshly into the soft skin beneath your arm.

You genuinely screamed out and collapsed to your knees, your blow softened by Loki holding your weight and following you down. “TRAHAITOHOR!” You shrieked and thrashed against his fingers as they pressed in hard to compensate for the thick hoodie. His deep laugh rumbled as he knelt behind you and continued his attack. Your laughter soon went silent as you lurched forward, completely weakened, hiccuping for air as you squealed breathlessly and you finally managed to flip onto your back and knock his hands from their place.

Loki was grinning down at you, amused at how you were disheveled from the struggle. Huffing, blowing a piece of hair from your eyes, you reached out and swatted at his chest. “The hell, Loki?” You laughed with a whine.

“Couldn’t resist,” he winked, then reached his hands down again. You squeaked and slapped them away but Loki laughed, a warm smile across his features. “I’m done. Promise.” Eyeing him warily, you nevertheless accepted his help to pull you up to your feet. Leaning in closer, he tacked on, “For tonight, at least,” in a dastardly rasp.

Blushing, you rolled your eyes and began the short journey to the kitchen, watching keenly for any renegade pools of Spider-man’s webbing. Accepting yet another gesture of kindness, you allowed Loki to tell you to take a seat at the kitchen island and prepare you a cup of tea. He brewed it in silence, one for himself as well, then set it before you.

“Thanks again for… you know,” you smiled sheepishly and took the mug in your cupped hands, shielding your palms from the heat with your sleeves.

“I couldn’t leave you stuck there like that,” Loki chuckled. “Not after hearing you leave, knowing you were upset.”

“Oh, s-so you-”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t come across me. You came looking for me,” you pieced together. Loki’s lips tightened into a polite smile, whereas yours melted into a grateful one.

“I hope I didn’t overstep,” he cleared his throat.

You smiled, at him, “Not at all.” After perhaps lingering a little too long with your adoring stare, you felt yourself blush and you looked back to the steaming hot aromatic brew. “Before this hits me, you think you have time for another story?”

Loki looked at you fondly, cleared his throat again and then sniffed, setting the scene for a fringe group of internet sleuths who were convinced they’d found an opening to the bi-frost.

You listened and laughed and joked with him, being told stories well into the hours past when you should have been asleep. By the time he refilled your tea for the third time, he‘d subtly moved you two to be sitting on the couch. By the time he’d told his last story for the night, you’d fallen asleep with your head in his lap, and his fingers laced through your hair.

[halcyon-writings]

helping hand?

ethan winters & reader

- in which ethan is unsure if you’re a new ally or a hidden foe. but right now, you’re not trying to maim or kill him as he searches for his daughter, so he takes the small victories where he can.

note(s)/warning(s): no big spoilers for in-game events, however, there are slight mentions of the ones we’ve seen in previews so far. i just think ethan needs a friend and a nap.

nav

Ethan feels the chill of the air settle into his bones, a wary ache that he was all too familiar with as the gun in his hands feels like a familiar ache, just like in Louisiana...

No. He couldn’t stop to think that way, he had to find Rose. Find his daughter, and get the hell away from this place. 

The Duke’s words, as cryptic as they were, were helpful, he couldn’t help but admit. But even so, these puzzles and mind games were beginning to weigh heavily on his mind. 

“Remember, Mr. Winters,“ The Duke had said mindfully, fork raised as he chewed on some herbed fish, “Some outlandish paths are safer to take than the direct ones.”

Well, Ethan thought to himself bitterly, as he landed harshly on his backside when the small bridge he had crossed had snapped and broke, who know those words would be so literal?

The ice cold water he landed in was a good wake up though, As he continued to trudge along, the trees hanging over him with every small sound causing him to stop, alerted and wary of those “lycans” as he learned. Dead branches and leaves littered the dirt path he found himself on, boots muddy now that the snow was thawing on the ground, until he trips, stumbling on the beginnings of a cobblestone path.

“Christ...” He mutters to himself. Well, if the new path started, then he could at least hope he was getting somewhere. 

And then the further he makes his way, does Ethan Winters find a house in front of him. He looks around, because knowing his luck, this place would have puzzles to even get past the front door, only to find a key, but nothing else. Ethan is not exactly holding his breath, but he dreads the thought of the key not working, and he’s stuck outside now that the cold air is picking up, and the wet clothes he has on is doing him no favors. 

Yet there are silver linings somewhere, and the key slides into the lock easily, the heavy dark wood door opening with a slight creak. Ethan winces as it echoes throughout the house, no doubt alerting anyone of his presence if they were in there with him. 

A fireplace crackles as he steps inside, instantly, the chill he had felt was gone. Was the place empty? No, it couldn’t have been. 

“I wasn’t expecting visitors,” He spoke too soon.

You were seated near the fireplace, a book in your lap and a pen in the other as you were jotting down something.

Wait a minute... he recognized you. You were there when Heisenberg had brought him in front of Miranda and the other lords of the Village, while the shrouded woman sat on the right of the leader of them all, you had leaned against a pillar on Miranda’s left, eyes regarding him noncommittedly. 

“You!” Ethan found himself taking large steps, weapon raised, “Where is my daughter?!” 

You only look up at him, then to the barrel of the shotgun pointed at your head, then back down to your book. “Well, she’s not here if that’s what you’re wondering,” 

“I know you’re on Miranda’s side, I don’t believe you,” He says, face twisted in a glare. 

You simply wave him off, closing your book and placing it and the pen onto the coffee table before you. 

“Think what you like, I don’t have your baby,” You repeat calmly, like you weren’t about to be shot in the head. 

“Then why...?” The question dies down in his throat as you stand, while not as tall as Dimitrescu, Ethan still felt intimidated as you looked down at him with a relaxed look on your face.

“Just because Miranda calls us a little “family” or what say you,” You say with a small shrug, “Does not necessarily mean we are as close knit as you think we are.”

At this Ethan raises an eyebrow, he lowers his weapon slightly, but still watches you with a careful eye.

“Miranda’s no doubt gone mad as you’ve seen,” You say with a hum, mumbling under your breath, that he thinks sounds something like, a baby? really? before you gesture to a chair, “Sit, you look tired.”

Tired didn’t even start to describe how he felt.

And yet despite himself, his feet take him to the plush chair you had been sitting in, footsteps feeling heavier and heavier. He sinks into the chair as soon as he sits, a soft exhale leaving his lips.

You continue to scribble away in the background, “I assume you’re hungry or something?”

He shakes his head no.

“Shame,” And it sounds like you’re chewing on something, and he can’t help but feel irked in some way.

There’s a pause, silence, save for the crackling of the firewood and the flipping of a page.

“Why are you helping me?”

Your eyes meet his, the supernatural gold meeting his own. He assumes they weren’t always that way.

“You’d be surprised at the things we lost to Miranda too, Mr. Winters,” Is your quiet response. And he looks down at his lap.

“Ah, right, sorry,” He stammers.

You huff out a small laugh, “It’s alright, it’s something I’ve come to accept over the years.” And Ethan wants to ask how many years you’re referring to, but he stops himself.

“Sleep, Mr. Winters, you’re safe here.”

And despite the want to be awake and keep an eye on you, He can’t help but think you’re right. And so his eyelids begin to flutter, and soon enough, Ethan falls asleep, surrounded by warmth. He doesn’t miss the melancholy look in your eyes.

[arrowflier]

I'd like to see Ian and Mickey celebrating their 20th anniversary? Being all mature and grown up and realising how lucky they are they're still in love after all those years x

Mickey woke up to a weight over his back, pushing him down into the soft pillow-top mattress. Lips touched the back of his neck, warm and dry, Ian’s breath raising goosebumps on his skin.

“Mmm,” Mickey hummed, rubbing his smile into the pillow. “Good morning, Mr. Milkovich.”

Ian chuckled, a gentle huff of air that moved the hairs on the back of Mickey’s head.

“Good morning to you, Mr. Gallagher,” he murmured back, voice husky from sleep, lips brushing down to Mickey’s shoulder. He pulled the strap of Mickey’s tank top to the side, pressed a kiss to the pale skin it revealed.

“Happy Anniversary, Mick,” he said, kissing it into Mickey’s body. Mickey arched back against him, getting a hand up to hold Ian’s where it still rested on his shoulder.

“Twenty fucking years,” Mickey said proudly, and pushed back until Ian rolled over, letting Mickey do the same.

He moved from stomach to side to back, letting Ian settle back in on top of him once they were face to face. Ian’s bare chest was warm through Mickey’s own shirt.

“Long time, man,” Mickey said softly, reaching up to card gentle fingers through Ian’s hair. It glimmered red in the faint sunlight coming through the curtains, shot through with a few paler streaks that Ian swore were blond, not grey.

“And longer to come,” Ian promised, his smile bright and sleepily content.

They lay there for a moment, watching each other blink, watching each other breathe. Then Ian sighed, and lowered his head, capturing Mickey’s lips in their first real kiss of the morning.

It tasted terrible, but they were long past the days of caring about stale morning breath. The innocent slide of mouths gave way to sucking kisses, chapped lips pulled gently between teeth, soothed with tongues. Ian pulled back with a wet sound, moved his mouth up Mickey’s jaw, and pressed searching lips to the space just under his ear.

Mickey hummed, eyes slipping closed at the warmth of the sensation. The bed was soft under him, Ian comfortable over him, and he wanted nothing more than to live in that moment forever.

Or at least for a little while longer.

Ian had other plans.

“Ready for your present?” he breathed into Mickey’s ear, biting the lobe as Mickey shivered.

“Never thought I’d say this,” Mickey muttered as Ian traced his tongue down the side of his neck, “but I think I’d rather go back to sleep for a bit.”

Ian laughed, burying his face in Mickey’s shoulder, breath cooling the trail his mouth had left.

“I don’t blame you,” he admitted easily, rolling off of Mickey again to lay at his side instead. His arm crossed Mickey’s chest, hand secure around his bicep. “Last night was a mess; I’m ready to sleep for a week.”

“Remind me never to let your daughter go to a concert again,” Mickey said plaintively, turning his head to face Ian’s on the pillow. “I don’t care if we’re supposed to be her safe space or what-the-fuck-ever, picking up a bunch of drink teenagers in the middle of the night is not my idea of a good time.”

“Please,” Ian said, “Like you’d ever tell your daughter no.”

Fair enough.

“But regardless,” Ian continued, “we don’t have too long before the girls are up, and I wanted to give you your present in peace.”

“Fine,” Mickey grumbled, putting on a show of being disappointed. He rolled onto his side, reaching for the drawer of the bedside table, but Ian whacked his hand before he could open it.

“Thought you wanted to give me my present?” Mickey asked, eyebrows raised, but Ian shook his head.

“Not that kind of present, you dolt,” he laughed. “We can do that later, once we have the house to ourselves.”

Ian’s face softened as he bit his lip, eyes darting away from Mickey’s for a brief moment before coming back.

“I, uh,” he said, scratching his chin. “I kinda got you something else.”

“We said we weren’t buying shit, Ian,” Mickey pointed out. “Between tuition and fuckin’ club dues, we ain’t got a lot to spare right now.”

“I know, but…” Ian shrugged. “We had enough for this.”

He leaned over, reaching long arms under the bed, squirming until he found what he was feeling for. With a twist of his shoulders, he was back up on the bed and tossing a small box at Mickey without aiming.

Mickey fumbled it, then snatched it back off the sheets before Ian could see. He turned it in his hands, suspicious, but the twitch of his lips gave him away.

“Go on, open it,” Ian encouraged, scooting closer. “I think you’ll like it.”

Mickey did, untying the tiny bow and lifting the lid off the box with no fuss.

“I went with the modern theme,” Ian told him as he looked inside. “Platinum. Thought that fit us a little better than fine china.”

Mickey didn’t answer, eyes caught on the glint of metal peeking out from under a scrap of cheap tissue paper.

“It’s supposed to represent how strong we are, together,” Ian said as Mickey lifted his gift out of the box, turning it over in his hands. “That we’ve made it this far, overcome shit.” His eyes were on Mickey’s hands. “That we’re still here to stay.”

Mickey held his gift up toward the window, letting the light reflect off the silver surface. Just a keychain, a little metal charm in the shape of a record dangling from a short chain. The word “Always” was engraved along the top curve, and at the bottom, the date of their wedding.

“It’s not really platinum, obviously,” Ian said, twisting the sheet between his fingers. “I couldn’t afford that even if I—”

“Ian,” Mickey cut him off. “Shut up. I love it.”

When their eyes met, Ian was beaming.

“C’mere, you sappy idiot,” Mickey ordered with his own broad grin, and Ian met him with a single, lingering kiss.

Mickey pulled away before it could become anything more.

“Got you somethin’ to,” he said, watching Ian’s eyes from inches away. “’Cept I figured you were the traditional sort, so…” He shrugged. “Guess what you get?”

“Sex?” Ian joked, and Mickey rolled his eyes, standing up and swinging his legs out of bed.

“Not quite,” he answered dryly, opening their closet door and fishing through the dirty clothes on the floor inside. He lifted a much larger box with a muffled oomph, and carried it over to the bed, where he let it fall a bit on heavily onto the mattress in front of Ian.

“Go on,” he started, but Ian hadn’t waited anyway, already tearing off the paper with eager fingers.

“Jeez, you’re like a fuckin’ kid on Christmas,” Mickey laughed, and Ian stuck out his tongue as he pried the cardboard box open.

Ian paused as the contents were revealed, the pushed aside bubble wrap and packing paper to lift out a single, dessert-sized plate.

It was fragile and white, plain in the center, with bursts of blue and pink along the outer, silver-plated edge. The colors swirled together into petals, shaped like—

“Stargazer lilies,” Ian breathed, and his eyes were wet when he lifted them. “Mickey, they’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, well,” Mickey hedged, sitting on the edge of the bed. “So are you, you soft fucker.”

Ian’s breath caught.

“Not the same theme as yours,” Mickey said, gesturing to the plate with a hand that still held his own gift. “But the ideas kind of the same, you know?”

He reached out, took the plate from Ian’s hands.

“You said the platinum was for strength; well this shit’s pretty fragile,” he continued. “But it stays good if you take care of it.” He looked up at Ian. “And we take pretty damn good care of each other.”

“You know that stuff’s not gonna last in this house,” Ian pointed out, voice choked. “We might take care of each other, but we take terrible care of our stuff.”

“Might not even make it through tonight,” Mickey agreed. He traced a finger around the rim of the plate, the flowers there. “But we’re gonna use it anyway.”

He turned, set the plate down on the bedside table, along with his keychain. Hoisted the rest of the box down onto the floor. “We can have nice stuff,” he said as he did, “but I ain’t gonna be one of those people that leaves shit in a cabinet gettin’ all dusty.”

“Nah,” Ian agreed, wiping his leaking eyes. “That really wouldn’t be us.”

Mickey smiled, and leaned in, kissing the corner of Ian’s eye and the happy tears lingering there.

“No it wouldn’t,” he said softly, and then his grin turned wicked.

“And speaking of using things,” he said, flopping down onto his back, arms spread wide. “We should use the rest of the morning to our advantage ‘til the girls get up.” He waggled his eyebrows, glorying in Ian’s wet laugh.

“Come show me what the next twenty years will be like, lover boy,” Mickey challenged.

And climbing over him with a toothy grin, all else forgotten in favor of getting hands on skin, Ian did just that.

[missymurphy1985]

The Writer (part 10) Final Chapter - Epilogue

Warning - childbirth

Massive thank you goes out to @heidimoreton for your trust and faith with your idea - couldn't have done this without you 💖

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch

It had been nearly a full year since that first encounter. Twelve months of pure bliss. Your roommate was married to your brother now, and had a job as Charlie's tutor - Thomas still hadn't allowed him back at the school so Laura had been hired as his home tutor. You'd moved into Arrow House when you discovered there was a mini Shelby on the way.

Flashback

"Y/n, come here..." Polly had been over that morning to help you make plans for Christmas dinner. Your brother and Laura were coming, along with the Shelby family, and you were panicking about the whole thing. You wanted it to be perfect. You entered the kitchen where Polly suddenly grabbed under your left breast, and you instantly pulled away.

"What are you doing?"

"Just stand still will you?"

"Stand still while my boyfriend's aunt gropes me??"

"Yes." You furrowed your brow in confusion but allowed her to continue.

"This isn't awkward at all Polly, wanna tell me what's going on?" Thomas walked in right at that moment, and froze instantly.

"Polly... Polly what are you doing?" He eyed her, but not suspiciously like you did. It was more of a 'knowing' kind of look.

"Well well Thomas.. hardly surprising considering you two can barely keep your hands off each other..." She smirked.

You were totally confused, darting your eyes between them

"Someone wanna enlighten me?"

Tommy looked to the floor, rubbing his eyes, before smiling. A huge grin, followed by a long sigh.

"Remember telling me you didn't have children with Jack because you thought you couldn't have them?" Polly asked and you nodded, still trying to work out what was going on.

"You weren't infertile, y/n." Tommy leaned against the door, his eyes slightly damp as he glanced at your stomach. The penny still hadn't dropped.

"Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on here?"

Tommy nodded at Polly who left the room, smiling to herself. Tommy pulled you over to him, his hands stroking your arms.

"After Grace died, I vowed never to love again. It felt like I would be cheating on her, disgracing her memory. She didn't need replacing, and I certainly couldn't replace her. When you lost Jack, you felt the same, which is exactly why I think fate brought us together. We discovered there was enough room in our hearts for another love. Now, it seems we need to make room for one more." His right hand took yours, and he placed them both over your stomach gently. The penny dropped, and your mouth hung open in stunned silence.

"I'm... I'm pregnant?"

"You are. Pol?" Polly came back in and threw her arms around you, squealing with delight.

"But I didn't think I could... Jack and I tried for years..."

"You clearly weren't the infertile one, y/n. I'd say you're around six weeks already, you're glowing! That's how I could tell," Polly had tears in her eyes, and you felt your emotions coming to the surface.

"I can just about handle one of you crying, both of you will send me over the edge, knock it off!" Thomas laughed, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve making your eyes water more, a choked sob leaving your chest.

He pulled you close, his chin resting on the top of your head as you sobbed with happiness into his shoulder.

"A baby..." You choked.

"Our baby. And now we know you can have them, don't think we're stopping here either," he winked, making you grin. You'd have a football team of Shelby's if you could.

Present Day

You were both lying in bed having a lazy Sunday morning. Tommy's hand drifting over your baby, still tucked warmly inside you but due to make her appearance in the next two weeks. Occasionally she would kick his hand - the clear bump visible making both of you smile.

"She's going to be famous - Polly told me," you grinned, clasping your hand over his, resting it where she'd kicked.

"She's going to be beautiful. Any thoughts on names?"

"Yes. What do you think of Jacqueline Grace?" You asked, nervously. A mix of the two people who'd brought you both together. He looked down at your belly, moving his body down to kiss it lightly, smiling.

"I love it. It's perfect.. thank you.."

You grimaced slightly as a sharp pain shot through your abdomen, you'd had a few over the last few days but put them down to over exertion - you'd refused to rest up like Tommy had ordered, continued the renovation planning of the house.

"You okay?" He asked as you tensed.

"Yes - Ada warned me about this, it's just my body preparing that's all, nothing to worry about." Your hand suddenly tightened on his as another pain gripped you, you sat up and gritted your teeth.

"Shit..." Tommy gasped as a sudden gush of water flooded the sheet underneath you. He looked to you, both of you panicking but smiling through the fear.

"Call Polly - I think your daughter wants to meet us a little earlier than planned!" He kissed you, then shot up and ran down the stairs to the phone in his office.

You stood up, walking round in circles, rubbing your belly as another wave of pain took over. You were doubled up, haunched over a chair when Tommy came back in the room, panting through the pain.

"She's out - Michael's out looking for her... We need to call a doctor -"

"No! I wanted this to be family only Thomas, I don't want doctors fussing or drugs, I can do this without them... Just rub my back, please.." he moved to your side, his hand stroking firmly over your lower back.

"I don't know what to do y/n!"

"You do as I need you to do, then when Polly gets here you can leave if you need to.."

"Not a chance am I letting you go through this alone - I'm staying right here if you'll let me?" You turned to him surprised, but nodded.

"Fuck... Tommy this really hurts..." Another wave of pain. "Take me downstairs, I need water..." He led you slowly down the stairs into the lounge, before fetching you a glass of water. You paced the room, the pressure in your pelvis was excruciating but you tried to remember Ada and Polly's advice as much as possible - breathing slowly, staying calm.

"Thomas where is she?!" You screamed, leaning over the back of the sofa. The contractions were coming quickly and getting more painful. Weren't these things supposed to take hours?? Days even??

"Come lie down, rest - you need to keep your strength up..." He lay you down on the floor, but you quickly realised that wasn't what you wanted. You moved into a kneeling position, your upper body resting against Tommy's chest as he breathed with you through each contraction.

"Tommy, I can feel her pushing down..." You panted. He suddenly took charge - lifting your nightdress up and ripping your panties away from you. Reaching a hand between your legs, he pulled away sharply.

"Then push - she's coming now whether Polly is here or not, I can feel her head - Push!"

You bore down, gripping onto his shoulders for support. The pain was stifling. His hand between your legs, he could feel his baby's head slowly pushing through.

Pulling away from you slightly, he grabbed a cushion from the sofa and placed it between your knees.

One of the maids must have heard the commotion, and she entered the room carrying a bowl of cool water and towels.

"Mr Shelby let me help, I've delivered three sisters..." He nodded, holding your nightdress up by your waist as Clara focussed on the baby.

"Thomas Shelby, you put that cock anywhere near me again and I'll cut it off, you hear me??"

"Shh now you know that's not true.... I've got you, come on... I'll breathe with you, eh?"

"Mrs Shelby you need to pant - do not push until I tell you to, okay?" Clara ordered.

Tommy leaned back, looking directly into your eyes.

"With me... Come on..." You found strength in those blue eyes, as he panted with you. Your eyes watering from the immense pain between your legs. "Stay with me, that's it, I've got you.."

"Heads out, push now Mrs Shelby!"

A scream left you as your body took over.

"How much more Clara?!" Tommy asked, desperate not to see you suffering any more.

"We're nearly there now, one more Mrs Shelby.."

"You hear that? One more and our girl is here. Jacqueline Grace will be here in her Mama's arms, come on baby, you can do this I know you can." You shook your head to protest but again your body defied you.

"Tom... Shit shit shit...." The wave of pain, tied with your exhaustion, was almost too much to bear. You couldn't take anymore, you could see the blood on Tommy's shoulders through his shirt where your nails had dug into him. You rested your head on his chest, focussing on his heart beat as he kissed your head. One scream from you, followed swiftly by a baby's cry from underneath you as you slumped against him, completely exhausted.

A few minutes went by, as Tommy eased you onto the floor between his legs, pulling your nightdress clean off you. You didn't care that Clara saw you completely bare - there wasn't much more she could have seen at that point. Just as you regained your senses, your baby girl was placed on your chest, having been checked and cleaned by your new favourite maid.

"Congratulations Mr and Mrs Shelby, she's perfectly healthy," she smiled, handing her to you. She instinctively searched for your breast, hungrily suckling from you as a wave of pure love took over. You could feel Tommy shuddering slightly underneath you, unashamedly crying as he watched his daughter feed.

"You were so brave.. so strong.. you blew me away y/n, I'm so fucking proud of you..."

Once you'd been cleaned up and moved back upstairs in bed, Polly arrived. She stopped in the doorway in shock, seeing you lying in bed sleepily as your husband swayed back and forth, Jacqueline in his arms dozing.

"Better late than never, eh Pol?" He laughed, handing his daughter to his Aunt. She choked holding the little one close, kissing the top of her head gently.

You tried so hard to stay awake but you could feel your eyelids growing heavy. A small kiss placed on the top of your head sealed the deal.

"Sleep now Mama. You'll need your rest, because I'm putting another one of those in you at the earliest opportunity."

[levixreader]

Dad!Levi x Mum!Reader - It's Just a Hobby

Charlotte: French name meaning freedom Summary: You woke up alarmed at the metallic shriek echoing in your room. Your angry husband sat a the far end of the room... sharpening his blades?... at three in the morning? Oh God, what did Charlotte do this time.

Warning: Pure fluffiness, Levi deserves happiness ;v;

Inspired by @cakeswashere prompt:

Y/N: are you angry? or...

Levi: no.

Y/N: so sharpening your blades at 3am is just a hobby then?

Daughter of Mine(Chapter I)| Master List|Requests| Next Chapter

It's Just a Hobby

Sheeeeeeek

It was a sharp, almost metallic in nature shriek. You tossed in your sleep, your brain still half unconscious.

Had you imagined it?

It sounded familiar. Where you having another dream of your time at the Corps?

All this talk about Charlotte joining the military was definitely not doing you any favours. It was scratching at the back of your head the obscure memories you kept hidden away. Ever since you had pushed Levi into taking her to work, every night, without fail, the deformed hands of your demons came to grab you at night.

Yesterday Levi had shaken you awake. You were sweating in your sleep, haunted by the last expression of your friends, of your family. Some nights, your dreams were so vivid that you were convinced that the life you had now was… imagined.

How had Charlotte convinced you that it was a good idea to join? Ah, yes, her unwavering spirit. Stubborn and passionate to the core, just like her father. Erwin had earned Levi and his constant devotion to the cause had earned Charlotte.

Truly, she had worn you down. She would talk as if she had been in the military for as long as she was alive. She had convinced every single one of her friends to join. Of course, she had worn you down. Children, you had discovered, had a way to make you feel like you could endure anything as long as it made them happy. Even if that meant spinning directly into a titan’s jaws. You shivered. Tonight, marked the beginning of winter and with it the fast approach of harsh months.

How could you selfishly stand in her way? She was the carbon copy of your husband, down to his unhuman like traits. She was fast and strong, but that didn’t make her cocky, it made her aware of just how far she could go. So when she had implored you to let her join the military… You caved because you knew your daughter, nothing you could say, not even the hellish nightmares you conjured now, would deter her from joining.

Levi could though. You didn’t have the heart or the will power to stand against her, she was, after all, a force of nature like Levi. So, it made sense that he could and did stand against her. So firmly opposed that he would rather sacrifice his relationship with her than watch her wear forest green.

I would never want to feel responsible if something were to happen to you.

His words had rung deep within you. Levi was strong, the strongest in fact. He had carried with his best friend’s death, carried the guilt of every death, carried the title of strongest, but, he could never carry the responsibility of the death of his only child.

Your heart ached. For months now, you had tried to convince yourself that you already waited with your heart of your throat every time Levi sat you down at the kitchen table to tell you there would be a new excursion. You could do the same with Charlotte. Right?

It was different. You knew it was different. You were all too aware of it. So, you settled. Settled to be thankful that where you lack the willpower, Levi could. Maybe, you had thought, that having her shadow Levi for a couple of days would show her a glimpse into a world she could never have thought of. You hadn’t. Not even Levi, who lived in the underground, had.

Sheeeeeek

You shot up. Straight up.

That had been the sound of a knife getting sharpened.

In a panic, your eyes scanned the room, your hand already reaching for your bedside table, inching into the drawer on the hidden weapon inside. You could feel your heart lodged in your trachea. All you could think was of your daughter and how to get to her as quick as possible. But, then, your eyes landed at the corner at the far back. It was Levi, seated in the leather chair he liked so much.

Relief, ice-cold relief washed over your stiffened body. Instantly, you relaxed at the sight of the familiar presence. Your heart unable to dislodge from your throat, the exhaustion weighing down at your body once again.

What the hell was he doing?

Shreeeeeeek

You felt a new wave of alertness wash over you. Something glimmered, you squinted, your tiered eyes fell to his lap.

There was a blade.

Shreeeeeeek

He was sharpening his blades.

He was sharpening his blades.

He was sharpening his blades at three in the morning.

Oh, God.

Shreeeeeeek

Cried the sound of metal. He was hunched in the chair, hadn’t bothered taking off his uniform, or boots for that matter. His right leg on top of his left thigh. One of his blades rested across his lap. You sat there watching as he expertly manoeuvred the blade making it glimmer even in the darkest of nights.

Something was bothering him.

You sighed, the adrenalin leaving your body. It had been a minute since you last felt it course through your body like earlier. You had genuinely thought that there had been an intruder in the house. You were a light sleeper, years retired from the military could never kill that habit. It had saved you more than once.

You wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until you untangled whatever Levi’s brain was scrambling. It was Charlotte, you were sure of it. After the little incident at the beginning of the week, she had somehow squeezed a promise to not react like he did that day. How she did it you would never know. It took years -years- to get him to not impulsively confront any man that would even slightly look at you the wrong way. You were certain that something must have happened again and the frustration of being powerless had him sitting, sharpening his disposable blades at such an ungodly hour.

This was it. The time had come to have “The Talk” with Levi. You had been preparing for this ever since Charlotte turned sixteen. You had already noticed the attention she garnered whenever she accompanied you to the market. How some of her oldest male friends would stare a second too long. It was bound to happen eventually. You had prepared for it, Levi… not so much.

“Morning”, you said the bedsheets still pooled at your waist. Even with the window closed, you could feel the cold air prickling your skin, like small needles. He frowned, not really expecting you to wake up. He had already spent an hour on his other blades, this was his last one. “How was work today?”, you insisted. He grunted. He at least acknowledged you. He wasn’t feeling all that talkative at the moment.

Shreeeeeek

The sound of the metal echoing across the room. This man was impossible. Like father, like daughter, two stubborn mules unwilling to bend or move in their convictions. You were convinced that when God created stubbornness, Levi was first in line, closely followed by Charlotte.

“Somethings never change”, you thought shaking you head slightly. Unceremoniously, you yanked the sheets from your lower body. You shivered, the cold air now attacking your legs. Levi’s face remained turned down, his eyes, however, sneaked a peek at you. He had heard you move. You were, to his dismay, heading towards his direction. He noticed the hair of your forearms standing to attention. You were cold. He clicked his tongue; he wasn’t ready to go to bed, anger still bubbling at his feet. He frowned, returning his attention at the weapon in his hand.

Shreeeeeeek

“Are are you angry?”, he heard you ask softly. No answer. You grouched in front of his legs so that your face was in his direct eyesight. He gripped the handle of the blade, his eyes moving to observe the end of it. He was avoiding you. “no.”, he curtly answered. He looked stoic. “Stubborn, stubborn man”, you thought. You placed a numbed hand on his twisted knee. His eyebrows knitted together refusing to look at you, opting to look at your hand. You looked paler than usual.

Did she have another nightmare?

You smiled amused, “So sharpening your blades at three in the morning is just a hobby then?”, you asked sarcastically. His frown deepened, he didn’t answer. “Tell me what’s bothering you”, you pushed, the tips of your fingers going a bit numb. He sighed knowing you weren’t going to let this go and if needed would freeze half to death until he talked. “And you think Charlotte is stubborn because of me”, he thought. Charlotte, he frowned again the anger bubbling up again.

“Is it Charlotte?”, you asked, even softer than before. You gripped his knee in reassurance. He sighed again, of course, you would know exactly what was bothering him. He couldn’t hide anymore. “I can’t believe she is sixteen”, you said truthfully.

Sixteen years went by like nothing, one day she was too small to even reach the kitchen counter and the next she had a queue of boys lined up. “Fucking hormonal teenagers”, he thought to himself glaring down at the polished blade. He wanted to break the thing in two.

“Our brat is an adult now”, you said giggling pulling him again out of his thoughts. His eyes lifted slightly to look at you, clearly disagreeing with your opinion. Charlotte wasn’t an adult; she was just a brattier brat. “Did one of the cadets flirt with her again?”, you asked smiling sympathetically. His eyes widened and immediately narrowed to the point you thought he had closed his eyes. His jaw clenched, his grip on the weapon made his knuckles turn white.

“A boy”, he corrected. You smiled sadly at his words. “You know she is at that age”, you said earning you a glare. “You know I’m right”, you insisted. He clicked his tongue. You were right. That doesn’t mean he had to voice it. “I know this is very hard for you”, you continued, he looked pained. It had taken everything in him today to not march and punch the titan shifter straight in the face. He knew the look he was giving Charlotte; it was the same look he had given you. He felt his chest burn.

His eyes looked pained, the cold controlled captain melting away. You wanted to hug him, console him and tell him that his baby was still just that: a baby. That Charlotte would not grow up and that she would always call him ‘Daddy’. But this would only hurt him more and would do Charlotte a disservice as her mother.

“Here”, you said standing up offering a hand for him to take. He looked at your hand, eyebrow cocked upwards with curiosity. You rolled your eyes, “Well, take it”, you insisted shaking your hand. Cautiously, he placed his free hand on yours. His eyes narrowing when he felt how cold your fingers felt. In a quick movement, he rested the sharpened blade against the nearest wall and grabbed with both his hands the hand you had offered. “You’re cold”, he commented, making you roll your eyes again at him. “Well hurry up then”, you answered pulling him up. He pouted, finally complying with your request.

You pulled him out of the room towards the hallway in front of Charlotte’s room. His frown returned, “What are we doing here”, he asked, not appreciating the surprise. “Shh”, you said tightening your hold on his hand. As carefully as you could you opened the door to your daughter’s room. She looked tranquil, completely at ease. “Look”, you whispered moving out of the way. Reluctantly, he peaked into Charlotte’s room. His eyes softened and his chest, previously burning with anger, filled with warmth. She looked like a child hugging her favourite stuffed animal. “She isn’t quite an adult yet”, you whispered, “not because some boy is flirting with her means she stopped growing”.

He sighed closing the door just as carefully as you had opened it.

“Let’s have another one”, he said turning to look at you straight to your eyes. “What?”, you said in complete shock. “Let’s have another one”, he repeated closing the gap between the both of you. “What?”, you repeated louder, his hands grabbing your hips. “I said”, he whispered pulling you towards him, “Let’s”, you heard him next to your ear, “have”, you felt his breath on your neck, his nose caressing the base of your neck, “another one”. His teeth dug into your soft skin.

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Mini Series

E N H Y P E N as Vampires

pairings: jake sim x reader

summary: having all eternity to live on, Jake find it lonely to be all alone not until he set eyes over at you.

word count: 5k

warnings: suicide

a/n: Jake’s one shot was a little short but I hope it’s still okay. My recent works had received so much love from you guys! Thank you so much and I love you guys so much! Have a great day. 🌸 (Taglist still open!)

taglist: @rubyanne, @izneos, @jung-breadshop @llamabouquet @eterniki @hwangjangmi @full-sannie @danyxthirstae01 @flowerjaem @dreamykkoo @crjwon​

“Go to hell, y/n!” I shut my eyes tightly as something hit my back hardly when my step sister started throwing things towards me.

I just turned 18 and now they’re trying to kick me out of from the house my Dad had left us. Well, my Mom died when I was just 9 years old. My father got so lonely because of her and he thought I was feeling the same way so he decided to re-marry.

He married my Step-mother four years ago. She have one daughter and they weren’t that nice to me. She just treat me nicely whenever my Dad is around, and now that he left me too. I have nobody else beside me. I’m all alone.

I cried silently as I tried picking up my things that were now scattered all over the floor. My step-mother starred down right at me with no sympathy. Beside her was my step-sister whose smirking widely while watching me suffer. I bet they’ve waited long for this to happen, to get rid of me.

After getting all of my stuff, I started walking directionless. Like a lifeless human, I was walking mindlessly. I don’t know where to go or even what to do. It will be night soon and I don’t think it will be too nice for a young girl to be all alone out here.

I gulped and quickly search for my phone. Delighted to see that there was still a little battery left, I gulped dialing someone.

“Who’s this?” I gulped feeling thrilled that she actually picked up.

“It’s me y/n.” I bit my lower lip and I heard her heavy sigh right away.

We weren’t close and maybe she’s even annoyed that I gave her a ring but I don’t have anyone else to call. My hand automatically made its way over to my lips as I started biting my fingernails.

“Why did you call me?”

“U-Uhh.. I don’t have anywhere else to go. My step mother kicked me out and--”

“And you’re calling me right now because? Hey, not because i’m the class president you're allowed to do this.” she sounded so sarcastic and annoyed at the same time.

You were silent for a while. You can’t fully blame her, to be called out of nowhere by someone you’re not close with will definitely weird and creepy. Not to mention that you’re one of the most bullied students in your class.

“Can you p-please help me out? Just this o-once. I just don’t know what to do anymore.” you’re mind are all messed up. No thoughts at all, the fact that you’ve been kicked out from the house where you spent your whole life with was still not sinking in to you.

Your eyes can’t even produce any tears at the moment. You feel like you’ve been crying too much that you actually got tired of it.

A sigh from the other line was heard and it pulled you back to reality, “What do you need?”

“C-Can I stay with you? Even in just a few--”

“What? No way! Don’t you have anyone else?” she sounded more irritated. Feeling more anxious about it, you gulped.

“I have nobody else.” you’re voice sounded so low and lifeless. Having nothing else to push you to live anymore, your last resort was to just take your own life.

“Ugh, why do you have to be a sore loser?” you bit your lower lip trying to ignore her rude comment. You have no one else who can take you in for a few days while you look for a job.

“Fine. Just go here.” and she dropped the call right away.

A small smile actually spreads through your face as you headed towards her apartment. Finally feeling like you’re starting to make a change in your life, you plot some plans inside your head. Things you need to do in order to live a better life.

As you arrive at her place, you knocked and waited patiently for her to open the door for you. With an unpleased look, she faced you and lets you inside.

She didn’t even ask if you’re okay or anything. Despite the bruises all over your body, she ignored it and just guided you to a vacant room. It was dusty and unorganized but you can’t complain. You should even be grateful she lets you be here for a few days.

“3-4 days maximum.” she reminded you before going out of the room.

You nodded your head even after she left and roamed your eyes around. Letting out a heavy sigh, you started arranging things so you can fix the bed and maybe get ready for sleep. You can feel your stomach grumbling out of hunger but you ignored it completely. You have no money to buy any food and you don’t want to trouble your class president for food as well. It would be too much hindrance for her.

You slept with an empty stomach that night so when you woke up the next day, you kind of don’t have any strength. When you went out, you saw a note over at the table saying she left some food and some spare keys.

Feeling thankful about it, you had breakfast and made sure you’ll thank her later on. When you arrived school, your step-sister was already there smirking at you. You tried hard avoiding her and just straightly went to your seat at the back.

The students around were starring at you for a bit while and even whispering with each other. Seems like your step-sister had announced at the whole class that you’ve been kicked out from your house. You were wondering what kind of false rumors did she create this time.

“It’s Jake!” your head snapped right over at the door when the girls inside your class got so excited about someone.

Jake Sim. Your eyes settled at the handsome boy who entered the class smiling. He was really attractive and almost the whole class likes him, including your step-sister. She was crazy for him.

You can’t blame her since he was really gorgeous. He’s nice too, always wearing a smile and kind to everybody. But theres just one thing that you’ve noticed with him. His eyes looked dead sometimes. Like even if he’s smiling, his eyes were lifeless.

You jolted a bit when both of your eyes met each other. With light red tinted over your face, you quickly looked away. This isn’t the right time to have a crush on somebody, y/n! You’ve got to find a job first.

After the bell rang, indicating that the class had finished, you hurried yourself out avoiding students. You’re determined to go and look for a job to support your needs.

The whole time remaining, you just tried looking for a job but no luck. You went back disappointed and trying hard to convince yourself that you can try and find for another one tomorrow.

The next days were just the same for you. It was no luck, you feel like you’re step-mother were starting to meddle with it as well. And also, lately, you’ve noticed Jake’s stares over at you during classes. He never done that before, but it was often these past two days. You don’t want to sound assuming or anything but that’s just how you noticed it.

The third day of hunting for a job, it was also a failure. With a heavy heart you trailed over at the quiet street of your town. It was 9pm, almost 10. Less people can be seen outside. After some rumors about the missing persons, people in your town started to be more careful.

Your feet brought you over a bridge. You starred right over at it mindlessly. Mind completely blank with thoughts, your mind wondered over those timed when you’re still happy. When you’re Mom was still there, back when you still have someone to lean on.

For the first time in days, you felt your eyes teared up. The image of your Mom that were always so clear for you flashed back right in your mind. Her comforting smile and warm hugs, you sure miss them the most. You cried silently while walking towards the edge of the bridge. You starred right down, it was the cold river.

With eyes full of tears, you roamed them around trying to check if somebody else was there. You wiped off your tears and started climbing over it. You have no will to live anymore so you just decided to take your own life.

Trembling a bit while standing at the other side of the bridge, you starred right down beneath you. The water looked so cold and dark. Feels like you’ll die right away once you jumped down.

Having just both of your two hands and the little space your stepping on as the only things that keeping you alive, you started battling with your own mind. Being completely confused, tired and lifeless, you really wanted to jump off.

“What are you doing?” your eyes snapped open and looked over at your right.

You gulped, eyes grew a bit at the sight of somebody in front of you. He was starring right at your eyes and you saw how cold his eyes were again.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him back emphasizing the you at him. Jake pursed his shoulders and even leaned over at the railings of the bridge beside you.

He’s acting like as if you were not at the other side and life’s in danger.

“Taking a stroll.” he casually answered.

“At this time?” you asked doubting him.

He smiled a little after nodding his head at you, “How about you? What are you doing? Are you gonna jump off?” he asked and starred down over the river.

You gulped, “N-Nothing.” if anything, you don’t want to cause trouble to anybody else.

He chuckled lightly, “Doesn’t seem like nothing to me.” he tilted his head then eyed you back.

“You’re planning to kill yourself, aren’t ya?” he asked, his accent popping a bit. You gulped, guilty. You were silent because one, he knows. Two, he still look gorgeous even if it’s dark already. The only light you guys have was the one from the bright moon.

“I don’t have any will to live in this cruel world.” your voice were low. The wind blew right towards at both you but you saw how he starred right over at your eyes.

There was a moment of silence before he lets out a sigh, “This world sure is cruel.” he agreed.

For the first time, somebody agreed with you. A small smile appeared over at your lips as you felt your heart races a bit. You don’t know if he’s really agreeing with you or he’s just really kind. Because honestly, there's nothing you can think of a reason why he’ll think this world is cruel for him. It seems like he already have everything and that his life was perfect.

“But if you live in it in a different way, it’ll change.” he muttered meaningful and he starred right at you once again, eyes piercing.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You don’t get what he just said but even before you can ask him, he pulled out something from behind. It was tumblr?

He handed it over at you with a sweet smile. “What is this?” you asked, one hand holding over at the railing as the other accepted what he handed over. The space that you’re stepping over was enough to keep you steady but you're still holding on over at the steel railing.

“Wine. Might as well have some of that before dying right?” he smirked right at you.

Wondering a bit because of what he just said you looked at him with full confusion, he chuckled opening the lid for you.

“If you drink that, I won’t say any word about what I saw today.” he said smiling at you.

Biting your lower lip, you decided to do what he just said. Taking a sip, you groaned a bit finding it a bit strange. Having your eyes shut, you didn’t notice how Jake’s eyes turned red out of excitement just by looking at you drinking what he just gave you.

“Do as you promised.” you said after putting the almost empty bottle over at the railing.

You wiped over the corner of your lips and saw the familiar red color of wine. After having a sip from that drink, you kind of became more brave to do what you just planned moments ago.

Jake stood just beside you from the other side of the bridge. He watch how sorrow took over your eyes, tears streaming over your eyes. He hates it. All of it. He hates how people were so cruel to you, how you punish yourself from it and how you still try to keep a smile even after being treated badly by this world.

His face turned serious as he watch you slowly let go from the railing, body falling right over the cold river. He starred over as your body collided at the surface of the water.

He was sure it would take your life. A loss from the human world and a gain to his. With a smirk, he put his hands inside his pocket as he heads down over the river.

He roamed his eyes that quickly turned red and went over the water to go look for your body. He found you pretty much faster than expected, your face was full of bruises and probably broken bones. He gently placed his fingers over at your wrist to check your pulse.

He pulled you out and carried you bridal style, slowly he lets your body over the grass beside the cold river. The silent night even made it more colder but it doesn’t matter because Jake wasn’t even a living person so the cold is nothing to him anymore.

Jake’s eyes turned red as his fangs slowly showed as he leaned closer. A smirk spread right into his face as he felt no heartbeat coming from you. This world had lost you but now he have you for him, all for him.

Jake buried his fangs over your neck and drink from your blood, making all over his veins get too excited.

He leaned away starring right over at your unconscious body. He smirked, wiping off some blood dripping out from his mouth, “You’re gonna be with me forever, y/n.”

Your eyelids felt a little heavy as you open them slowly. An unfamiliar ceiling greeted you that made you furrowed your brows a little. You were confused where you were so you stood up.

You roamed your eyes around at the place. It looked elegant and cozy at the same time. Head aching a bit, your hand rested over at your temple as you try to remember the previous things that happened that can help you to know where you are.

Your eyes quickly snapped open when you remember yourself jumping off from the bridge. You starred right over your arms and you saw them completely fine, both of your legs were fine as well. There's no trace of signs that you’ve committed suicide.

It was so strange because you were so sure that you jumped off. Feeling completely confused, you ran your hands over at your hair and to your surprised, they grew a bit longer. Your eyes then notice how more pale you became.

“I see you’re awake now.” your head snapped over at the corner when you heard somebody talked.

“J-Jake?” you muttered his name.

He smiled sweetly at you. To your surprised it didn’t look so lifeless anymore. It looked livelier for some reason.

Oh right! Jake was there too! He watched you jumped off the bridge. Is he the one who saved you?

He slowly walked closer to you and sat down over at the edge of the bed. You looked at him, a lot of questions were already inside your mind.

“Let me see your eyes,” his voice sound so calm. You furrowed your brows as he leaned closer.

You felt this tingling inside your stomach as he smiled in satisfaction in front of you, “Beautiful.” he mumbled that made you flustered.

Did he just said beautiful?

“Do you feel hungry?” he asked like it's just normal for you to be here inside wherever this is.

“Did you save me?”

He starred at your eyes and he smiled. “You jumped, remember?”

You nodded your head because that’s clearly what you remembered. He nodded as well as he looked over your arms then back over at your face.

“Do you know anyone who lived right after trying to jump off from that bridge?”

You pursed your lips and shake your head no. In the cases you’ve known from your town, nobody ever lived after jumping off. So... why?

“Then... how?” you looked at him anticipating of any answers.

He smiled, hand stretched out over at you. He brushed away some hairs from your face and hung them over your ears. You were pretty sure you were flushed, but for some funny reason, you can’t feel any warmth from your body.

“You said you have no will to live anymore and that the world were so cruel.” he started, you nodded listening to him. He was right about that, even if its a bit blurry, you can still remember saying that to him.

“I told you if you lived it in a different way, it wouldn’t be so cruel. I just did you a favor.” he explained but you were still clueless about the things that were currently.

“I don’t understand.”

He smiled and stood up then walked towards the side table just beside the bed you were tucked in.

“Are you hungry?” he asked while holding something.

You didn’t talk, you actually don’t know. At the moment, you were confused and doesn’t feel anything.

But you felt the sudden hunger the moment he open the lid of the container he was holding. Letting out a small chuckle, Jake walk back to the bed.

“Ahh, I can’t get over with how beautiful you look, y/n. What to do? I think I found my obsession.” he muttered eyes fixed over at you.

You blushed hardly because of what he just said but quickly got distracted over the thing he was holding. The closer he gets, the hungrier you get.

When he hand it over to you, your brows furrowed at the sight of a red liquid inside.

“W-What is this?”

“I figured your body won’t take somebody else’s blood since it's still adjusting so i’ll be your blood bank for the mean time.”

You were stunned at your position when you heard about it. It is blood. Fresh blood of Jake. Why does it smelled so good? It make you drool in hunger.

“Am I...?”

You’ve heard about those things before. They were often became topics specially lately because of the sudden missing people over at your town.

Jake sat close to you, “Yeah, a vampire.”

Your hand lowered letting the cup rest over your thigh, you almost lose your mind. You don’t want to believe it but what else can explain the reason why you’re still here breathing when you jumped off a freaking bridge?

“B-But why? I told you I wanted to die.”

“Well, basically you’re already dead.”

You looked at him, frustrated. Okay, you are dead but that doesn’t even make sense! You're seem like you’re still alive. Breathing, but dead.

“You don’t understand, Jake. I wanted to die because I don’t want to be here. I have nobody else with me.”

His face turned serious and you’re not gonna lie, you somehow felt intimidated when that soft smile vanished from his face.

“Then what do you call me, baby? I’m here for you.” he said softly hand raised over to cup your face.

“Life’s been cruel to you and you were too good for that world.” his eyes turned red and you don’t know but they looked so pretty.

Two sharp fangs showed over from his lips as he smiled at you. Your mouth fell, right now, Jake looked really out of this world. You never know vampires can look this good. The books you used to read never told you they look this attractive.

“Now that I have you, I’ll make sure you won’t suffer anymore. Be with me,”

“Why me?”

Out of all the girls who were giving him attention, why you?

“Why not you?” he said starring right over at your eyes.

You were stunned, silent after he answered that to you.

He leaned closer to you, lips touching your cheeks lightly then over at your ears. It sent shivers over at your whole body but you loved it. Jake’s effect over at you, you enjoyed it.

“I’ll be here for you, y/n.” he whispered.

You gulped, lowering your head as you shut your eyes tightly.

“O-okay.” you answered.

Jake smirked, “That's my girl.”

You’ve noticed some changes from your physical appearance and even at some aspects of your personality. You’re not that anxious anymore, confidence filled you up for some reasons. It isn’t a bad thing.

You trailed over the empty hallway of your school. Classes already started so you’re now heading over your classroom. You’ve learnt that you’ve skipped school for 3 days already.

Arriving at the entrance of the room, heads turned towards your direction. Looking directly over your teacher, you smiled right at her. She was furrowing her brows while trying to determine who you are.

“Is that... y/n?” you heard one of your classmates whispered.

“I’m sorry for being late, Ms. Choi.” and you even bowed at her.

She looked dumbfounded looking right at you. She doesn’t know how to exactly describe but something changed.

“U-Uh... Ms. Y/n--”

Your teacher can’t even finish what she was about to say when a hand wrapped over your shoulder.

“Sorry for being late, Ms. Choi. We kind of had some problem on our way here.” Jake suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

You blushed but kept still. You were used to Jake’s affection. He’s such a loving person. He took care of you and you never felt that way ever since you’re Dad died.

“It’s o-okay, Mr. Sim. You two can sit now.” she said. The class were still silent as they were very shock at what’s happening right now.

Your eyes traveled over the students inside. They were looking at you in a different way, not in the way how they used to back when they’re still bullying you. Some of them looked at you with confusion, some with desire and some with fear.

You chuckled softly, starring at their pathetic faces. Specially your step sister, her eyes were a bit bigger than usuall.

“Y/n, right here baby.” Jake called you out. You nodded and turned your head towards him. As the teacher gets back to where she was interrupted, you sat down beside him.

Jake rested his hand over at the back rest of your chair. His hands started drawing small lazy circles over your other arm.

He leaned closer, “Did you see their faces?” he whispered at you dropping a kiss over at your shoulder before he leaned away.

You smirked nodding your head as you turned over at him. “They were so surprise.”

He chuckled, “Who wouldn’t be surprise? My girl looked so beautiful.” he said while facing the front. You blushed and you saw how his ears turned a bit red too. You chuckled and just tried focusing at the lesson.

As time pass by, you started to get more dizzy. “I’m dizzy.” you mumbled softly.

“You hungry?”

You looked over at him and slowly nodded your head. He chuckled finding you cute. He rummages over his things and pull out a tumblr. The same tumblr he handed you that night.

He brushed away some hair away from your face, “Take it easy with you in-take of blood.” he whispered after dropping a kiss over at your forehead.

You started drinking from the bottle and felt yourself getting much better. The class continued with you having your meal. Jake find you cute while you enjoy it so much.

When the classes were finally over, Jake and you headed outside the school hand in hand. Students followed both of you with stares full of curiosity.

“Uh, you should go on Jake. I’ll just go to the class president because of my things I left at her place.” you told him.

He nodded his head at you, “I’ll wait for you in the car.”

You smiled at her before nodding your head. When you saw him walked away, you started to walk back inside the campus to go and look for the class president. You did find her pretty fast. She was with your step sister and some from their circle of friends.

“Class president.” you called her out. They looked over you in unison and they looked surprised once again.

“oh y/n!” unlike before, she doesn’t look irritated by your presence. Your step sister was lowering her head as well, trying to avoid eye-contact.

“I’m just gonna inform you that I’ll be getting my stuff at your place later. Thank you for letting me stay.” I said smiling. Well even if she acted annoyed, I can’t deny that she was nice enough to keep me in.

“H-Huh? Why? You know what, I actually felt alone. You c-can stay if you want.”

You starred right at her eyes. Lies. It doesn’t look so sincere like how Jake’s eyes sparkles whenever he talks with you. He was so sincere with everything, warmth taking over you once he started comforting you.

You smiled a little, “Nah, it's fine. I already have a place to stay.”

“Where were you these past days? We w-were looking for y-you!” she said. Again, you can’t feel anything from her.

“I jumped off a bridge.” you straightly told her. She was dumbfounded as well as the other girls that were with her.

After seconds of silence, you chuckled. “I was kidding. Jake kept me in.”

They gulped and obvious envy were over their faces. You sighed and decided you should go on. As you turn around, you felt somebody held your arm.

“Y/n, Mom said you s-should go home.”

You slowly faced her then your eyes trailed over to her hand that was holding you. Her eyes weren’t blank and doesn’t look so rude like always. You were stunned and can’t talk for a while. You don’t know what to response to her.

Even before you can talk, a hand brushes away her hold off from you. A hand instantly held your waist and pulled you closer to his body.

“Her home now is with me.” Jake said and you felt that familiar comfort that you’ve never felt for so long.

Jake guided you away from and you went along without saying a word.

Weeks passed by with Jake and you’ve been very happy with him. He introduced you to this amazing world he have. Days with Jake was never boring and full of surprises. He clearly made you happy.

You let out a loud breath while you felt his soft fingers caressing your arms while you’re both snuggling close to each other.

You’re both enjoying the silence between you while laying down to your bed.

“How did you turn me again, Jake?” you were curious.

“The wine I offered you that night have my blood in it.” he chuckled remembering what he just did back then.

“Why do you have a thing like that with you while strolling around?” you turn over and rested your hand over at his chest while you lay your head over it. You looked over to Jake and he have this smirk right over his face.

“I was following you around for days and I figured I should be prepared once I saw an opportunity to give you that drink.” he said.

“So you do wanted to turn me.”

“Yeah. You thought I was kidding when I said that?” he raised an eyebrow at you. With a chuckle you nodded your head.

“Jake, I’ve always noticed your eyes were cold before. Why?”

He kept his smile while starring right at you, he sighed then gently brush away some strands from your face.

“You know, not everyone is fond of living forever. I’ve never found somebody who’s willing to stay with me. I was born as a vampire and I felt so alone.” He sound so sad that you actually felt bad for him.

“When I saw you, I knew I wanted you. I told myself I’ll take it slow and won’t force you. But when I saw you struggle in this life and really planned to take your life, I became selfish.” his eyes turned red as he starred lovingly at you.

You gulped cupping his face. “What if I told you I don’t want this?”

You saw pain over his eyes as he held your hand that was holding his face. With soft kiss, he showered your hands with it. “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know if I can let you go.”

You pursed your lips, “I’m all alone in my life too, Jake.” you said and he opened his eyes to look at you.

With affection, your eyes turned red as you leaned closer to his face. “But now that you’re here, I have a home I can call mine. I have a person I can be with forever.” you mumbled and he leaned closer as well for a kiss.

“I love you,” you mumbled.

“I love you, y/n.”

main master-list

vampire teaser

[bvidzsoo]

No one like you

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warnings: light swearing, overload of fluff for the light hearted

 Pairing: Kim Mingyu x female reader

 Word count: 15, 074 

 Summary:  On a very important day you get a call from your sister asking you to babysit her daughter. She knows how important the project is for you and wouldn’t have bothered to ask you if it really wasn’t urgent. And you know that, so you reassure her that you’ll babysit Jieun. However, you get a little surprise when Kim Mingyu, your brother-in-law’s best friend, shows up unannounced, did I mention he’s also your ex? 

 A/N: Holy moly what a ride this one shot was writing! I had no idea I had the capacity to write something as fluffy as this bUT! THIS IS KIM MINGYU! and I love Kim Mingyu too much, so this is me channeling my inner love haha. Hope you enjoy it and I would love to read your feedback!

       The studio has been buzzing with people the whole week. The new exposition was going well and I was proud that my works gained so much attention in so little time. I have been painting ever since middle school, a small and innocent passion became the job that allows me to put bread on my table every day. I never imagined that one day I would become a well-known painter, it just seemed surreal. But it happened, in my sophomore year, I painted a little piece for a contest and I won, gaining a lot of attention. Ever since then things changed, but they really only changed after I finished high school. I didn’t go to college, like many of my peers, I downed myself into the world of art and went around Europe, researching and learning as much as I could about the painters. Somewhere along the way, in Switzerland to be exact; I was actually taking a break; is where I met my manager. Hansol Vernon Chwe. He had a fine eye for art, very sophisticated taste and unique views. Through him, I met Xu Minghao, my second-in-hand. Minghao was mesmerizing, his mere presence could capture your whole attention. Everything about him was delicate, his taste was even finer than mine and he was ruthless. He knew what he wanted, always, and wasn’t afraid to demand it. Only wanting the best, always striving to be the best. I’m a perfectionist, I rarely let loose and I’m obsessed with order. Minghao and I clicked instantly, it was love at first sight, in a very platonic way. Ever since Vernon introduced me to him, we’ve been working together. Minghao is a painter as well, his style rigid and very colorful, meanwhile mine is warm and homey. We run the studio together, he’s a few years older. It was his idea to work together, to build the studio together, to give it life together. It was his project of a life time, his very own dream, and when he shared it with me, asked me to join him, I knew I couldn’t refuse him. It was great exposure to the both of us and it wasn’t a big surprise of how well it worked.

I was busy talking to a client when my phone started ringing, cutting my words off. Vernon threw me a displeased look, they were clients from France and they wanted a contract with me, some of my paintings would be exposed in their art gallery if I went through with the deal today, but when my phone rang for the second time, I knew I had to excuse myself. I wouldn’t have to, if it wasn’t my sister calling. She had a different ringtone, on purpose, and she knew I was busy today, so, she wouldn’t have called unless it was something very important.

“I’m so sorry for bothering you!” Were her first words as I picked up, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Yeah, I’m talking to some very important people, right now, Joohyun. What’s wrong?”

“Wonwoo and I got stuck.” Her sigh was loud and I listened closely, eyebrows furrowing.

“Where?”

“On the highway, we are still three hours away, traffic is insane, again…”

“Okay, what can I do?” I asked, already knowing it involved Jieun, my 4-year-old niece.

“Jieun’s nanny has to leave in an hour, something came up for her…can you go over? Look after her until Wonwoo and I get back?” I bit my lower lip, thinking hard. Can I leave the studio in an hour? The event goes on the whole day and I am supposed to stay. But if Jieun needs me, our parents live on the other side of the country they won’t be able to come in such a short time, I had no choice but to make it work.

“Yeah, sure, don’t worry. I’ll go babysit her.” I reassured Joohyun and she sighed out relieved.

“Thank you, Y/N, you are a life saver!” Came Wonwoo’s deep voice through the speakers, no doubt my sister was using the car’s Bluetooth to speak on the phone.

“Sure thing, Won, see you later. Drive safely, brother-in-law!” After my sister and her husband bid me their goodbye’s I hung up the phone and went to find Minghao and Vernon. Vernon just finished talking to the French clients and as I neared him, he shook his head.

“What could have been more important than this deal?”

“My sister.” I deadpanned and Vernon sighed as he nodded his head.

“Well, I made the deal. So, if you want to back out, we can’t anymore. The paintings we talked about will be shipped off to Lyon next week.”

“That’s alright with me. For how long is the contract?” I let my eyes run over the people inside the studio, eyes falling on Minghao. He was standing next to one of his painting’s, a glass of red wine in his hand as he spoke to three blonde females. They were giving him suggestive smiles but Minghao paid little to no attention to them as gazed at his painting proudly.

“Contract is for two years, Y/N.” Vernon answered me and I nodded with my lips pursed, waving Minghao over once we made eye contact. He excused himself and jogged over, a bright smile on his lips.

“Everything good?” He asked with his honey voice and Vernon nodded.

“So, uhm…” I cleared my throat and looked at them apologetically, “I have to leave in an hour.”

“Oh?” Minghao asked surprised, looking at Vernon to see if he knew about this already, but he didn’t.

“Joohyun called and asked me to babysit Jieun, her babysitter has to leave in an hour.” I explained to the guys and Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Is there no one else that could go?”

“No, I’m sorry, I really want to stay, but I just—can’t.” I sighed and Vernon nodded in understanding.

Minghao’s eyes lit up in sudden realization as he pointed his glass of wine at me, “Mingyu.”

“Uh…what about Mingyu?” I asked confused, looking at Minghao with furrowed eyebrows.

“Call him and tell him to babysit Jieun instead of you.” He proposed his idea and I took a second to think.

“I’m sure Joohyun and Wonwoo thought of Mingyu first.” Minghao went to cut me off but I raised one finger at him, “Joohyun knows it’s important what we are doing today, she really wouldn’t have called if Mingyu was available, okay?”

“Sure.” Minghao muttered with a sigh and Vernon patted my shoulder reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of everything. Minghao will entertain the guests, no doubt.” A teasing grin came onto Vernon’s lips as he took the glass of wine from Minghao.

“Why can’t you do it, huh?” Minghao snapped back, glaring at Vernon when he took a sip from his glass.

“And this is why I didn’t want to leave…” I muttered with a shake of my head, making Vernon chuckle as Minghao shot me a glare.

“We are very competent of running things on our own, Y/N, thank you very much.” I gave Minghao a look before he returned it, challenging me. Sometimes our personalities would clash together, one more stubborn than the other.

“Chill, guys,” Vernon raised a hand in the air to get our attention, our mediator in tense moments, “Y/N, you should greet Mr. Yoon’s grandmother before you leave, she’s been looking for you.”

“Of course!” My face lit up at the mention of Grandma Yoon, the old lady having been a very loyal customer of mine. I met her through the contest back in high school and ever since we’ve kept in touch. She used to think Yoon Jeonghan, her charming nephew, and I would become a thing. She was really convinced she could make us date, but Jeonghan and I were too different. And to be fairly honest, I’m not someone very interested in relationships. I’m fine on my own, I don’t mind not having a partner. It was long since someone held me in their arms and kissed my forehead softly, but my art required a lot of attention and time that I wasn’t willing to sacrifice for someone else. I’ve been on a few dates since high school, but they never worked out. I blamed them on my atrociously high expectations but those weren’t the reasons for my failed love life. It was a person that I never truly got over, he ruined me in the best way possible, and now I just can’t find anyone that could live up to his level. No one. And it was frustrating until I realized I didn’t actual need someone to feel completed and happy. Excusing myself from Minghao and Vernon, I went around the studio with a smile on my face, searching for Grandma Yoon and Jeonghan.

       The car ride to my sister’s house took a lot longer than usual, traffic at noon was horrible in the city. I was at least fifteen minutes late by the time I pulled in their driveway, quickly getting out of the car, big bag full of supplies almost falling from my hand. I locked my car and rushed to the front door, ringing the bell. It took three seconds and the door was thrown open, a relieved look on the nanny’s face.

“I’m sorry, traffic was really bad today.” I shot an apologetic smile to the nanny and she opened the door wider, to let me step inside.

“I understand, thank you so much for coming!” She bowed her head as she pulled on her coat, stepping outside the door, “It’s really urgent.”

“Hurry, then…” I motioned for her to leave with my head and she bowed a bit before rushing away, leaving me shaking my head. I closed the door and threw my heels off, music coming from the living room. I smiled to myself when a girly voice echoed to the hallway, singing along to the lyrics. I left my green, thin, coat hanging on the hanger and gripping my heavy bag with both hands, I headed towards the living room. My sister’s house was big and beautiful. Her and Wonwoo have a simple yet sophisticated taste. Their house looked a thousand times better than my apartment. As clean as I am, my apartment could be a mess from time to time. Especially my art room, where I paint, that one was always a mess. But for me that mess was order, I always knew where everything was and found whatever I was looking for within seconds. As I walked down the hallway to the living room, I gazed at the pictures in white frames that were hung up on the white walls. The pictures were of Wonwoo, Joohyun and Jieun, mostly. There were a few family portraits from both parties, Wonwoo and Joohyun, and there were even some of me and Mingyu. Actually, the one who took almost every picture was Mingyu. He has had a passion for photography since high school and continued to do it as a side job, even currently. He was borderline an artsy, borderline a jock kind of guy throughout high school, maybe that’s why he attracted all kinds of girls. Myself included.

“What a nice voice you have, Jieun!” I exclaimed as I let my bag fall to the floor once I made it into the living room’s doorway.

Jieun’s head turned away and a big gummy smile, nose scrunched up, spread on her soft face, “Auntie Y/N! You came!”

“Of course, I came, auntie wouldn’t miss any chance of spending time with her favorite girl in this whole world!” Jieun started giggling loudly as I spoke in a funny way, jumping my way towards her.

“I’m really your favorite girl?” She asked with another giggle as I reached her and scooped her up in my arms. Her weight wasn’t something I couldn’t handle; she was only four after all.

“Well…it might be Joohyun, but—”

“Auntie, bad auntie!” Jieun whined with a pout and I grinned at her, kissing her cheek.

“Bad auntie, I know.” I muttered and she pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, so I placed her down, “What were you doing with your nanny?”

“We studied a little bit of numbers, then I wanted to watch cartoons and she promised to make some French fries for me but—she’s gone now.” Jieun’s lips formed a pout and she oddly resembled a little bunny, cheeks puffing up. I laughed and crouched down in front of her.

“So, here’s my plan…” I motioned for her to lean as if I was sharing a secret with her, “Auntie brought some of her painting stuff over…so, after we paint a bit, I will make French fries for you. Cool?”

“Cool!” Jieun exclaimed loudly, clapping her hands together. I winked at her and went to grab my bag from the doorway, dragging it to the coffee table. I glanced at her as I opened the bag, her big eyes shone with excitement; she loved drawing and painting; and her nose scrunched up in the most adorable way as she smiled. She was an oddly mix of both Joohyun and Wonwoo. Sometimes, the two would start bickering about who she looked more like…in those time, of course Mingyu and I would have to interfere, and of course Mingyu would be on Wonwoo’s side meanwhile I was on Joohyun’s, just to balance out everything. But when Jieun smiled, she was the exact replica of Wonwoo, nose scrunching in the same way and eyes disappearing almost. When she was serious or pouting, she looked like Joohyun with her big eyes and delicate lips. Her beautiful dark hair reached her shoulders and she’d always brush her bangs out of her eyes, especially when she was frustrated with something. And oh my God, she was one of the most stubborn kids I’ve ever met. She knew how to manipulate people, even at the age of four, and most of the time got what she wanted. She inherited Joohyun and Wonwoo’s calm natures, never being a hyper child, nor too loud. She could be a little angel but she had her moments when she was hard to deal with.

“So…” I looked at Jieun as she kept smiling at me, “Do you have anything in mind that you’d like to paint?”

She sat on her knees close to the coffee table as she stared down at the smaller white canvas I placed on the table for her. All kinds of brushes and colors lay on the table, Jieun’s eyes running over them eagerly.

“Nothing special, maybe some trees…a blue sky…green grass…something nice.” She mused, more to herself, and I chuckled quietly as I shook my head. One day, my little Jieun, would turn into a big painter herself, making her auntie proud.

“Sounds excellent,” I raised my thumb up at her and she giggled, “Should we start?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed and quickly claimed her brush, asking me to pour some blue paint onto her palette. I did as I was asked and watched as her tongue darted out and eyebrows furrowed as she mentally imagined where she’d place the sky.

“Auntie, will you not paint?” She gave me a quick glance before swiping her brush against the canvas.

“Not today, I’m taking a break.” I answered her as I leaned against the sofa, watching her paint, “Auntie has worked really hard the past three months, I need some rest.”

“Don’t you paint though because it makes you relax?” Her eyebrows rose as she tried to lighten the blue color she placed on her canvas.

“That’s true, but I’m wearing white pants…” I trailed off with a lame excuse, making Jieun throw me an amused glance. I giggled when she shook her head, it made me feel like I was the kid and she was the adult. Jieun, sometimes, would act really mature for her age, saying meaningful things without realizing the weight of her words. Mingyu always blamed it on Wonwoo and Joohyun, who would never fail to remind their daughter certain things that would form her into a decent human being later on in life.

“I’m so excited!” Jieun giggled as she pointed at the yellow paint, and I took and pushed some of it onto her palette.

“Do you like painting so much?” I chuckled and Jieun nodded, “That makes auntie really happy!”

“Yes but no!” She exclaimed and I raised my eyebrows at her as she attempted to paint a big sun onto the blue sky she just painted, “Uncle is coming over too!”

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked surprised at the little girl sitting next to me, Mingyu is coming over?

“Did you speak to mommy and daddy, Jieun?”

“Yes, they said uncle Mingyu couldn’t make it in time so they will ask you to come instead.” She hummed and grinned at me before turning back to her canvas.

“Ah, so Mingyu isn’t really coming over…” I let out a sigh, pleased to hear he wouldn’t show up today. I haven’t seen him in over a month, and meanwhile it was a long time, it was actually refreshing. I didn’t have much time to spend time with my family as I was busy with the studio and the project Minghao and I have been working on. Mingyu was considered family, even though he wasn’t related to anyone. It’s just the way it is, Wonwoo and him grew up together, it was only natural Wonwoo considered him his brother. So that made him, indirectly, Joohyun’s brother-in-law and my…well, brother-in-law? I wasn’t really sure, it didn’t matter, I didn’t consider Mingyu really family either way. It was just weird, to look at him and think ‘oh yeah, he’s like my bro’, because we have dated in high school before, for two years. Two years of bliss and pure happiness, two years I wish I could time travel back to.

“But uncle is still coming over though…” Jieun muttered to herself and my eyebrows furrowed, but I ignored her comment. She just misunderstood what her mom and dad told her. Mingyu couldn’t make it today, so they called me instead. Just like I suspected, I knew Joohyun wouldn’t have bothered me if she had other options.

Painting the canvas went well and in-an-hour Jieun was finished, happy and proud of her work. She asked me to critically asses her painting and so I did, entertaining my little niece furthermore, her giggles filling the living room. She was so loud that I didn’t even hear the front door opening, a mistake on my part as I forgot to lock it, and the deep voice made me jump upon I heard it.

“And what do we have here…” My eyes were wide as my heart beat quickly, a loud squeal leaving Jieun’s lips before he was up on her feet, dashing towards the giant standing in the doorway. Mingyu was grinning down widely at Jieun as he scooped her up in his strong, and well-built, arms, his sharp canines showing off when his smile widened more. His black hair was disheveled, probably because he continuously runs his hand through it, and the sides stuck to his face, still wet. He was wearing black shorts that reached his knees and a sleeveless blue loose tank top, a silver chain dangling from his neck. I quickly caught myself ogling him and huffed as I rose to my feet, arms crossing in front of my chest. Truly, who knew not seeing him for a month would make him look more attractive? Mingyu, no doubt, had an incredible glow up since high school. If he would’ve looked like this during high school too, I’m sure all the girls would’ve lined up in front of his classroom to bring him all sorts of things. But even as handsome as he was now, I found him plain. Maybe because I’ve known him for a long time now, and don’t get me wrong, plain not in a bad way…he was just, plain, transparent.

“Look how excited you are to see uncle!” Mingyu teased Jieun as he poked her stomach, eliciting a loud shriek. I couldn’t help it but smile, having a big weakness for Mingyu and Jieun together. And alone, just…when it came to Mingyu, after all those years, he was still my one and only weakness. It amazed me how I never got over him one hundred percent, I just couldn’t. But I didn’t want to either, not when his flaws seemed perfect too.

“Because I love uncle!” Jieun grinned at Mingyu, nose scrunching up making Mingyu giggle.

“Of course, you love me! I’m the best uncle ever!” Jieun cheered with Mingyu as he started dancing around with her still in his arms, Jieun poking Mingyu’s cheek.

“Finally, uncle and auntie are together!” Jieun cried out as Mingyu started tickling her sides, making her laughter echo loudly in the house. It seemed like realization dawned on him upon he heard Jieun’s words, he seemed to realize that there was another person there with them, standing a few feet away, smiling at them. Mingyu stopped moving and Jieun giggled quietly, trying to catch her breath from being tickled, throwing her arms around Mingyu’s neck to give him a tight hug. Mingyu’s gaze locked with mine and I kept my smile on as he returned it.

“Look who finally showed up!” He teased and put Jieun down, acting as if his muscles were sore from holding her and he earned a light slap from Jieun.

“Well, hello,” I said with a chuckle as Mingyu walked further inside the living room, headed my direction, “Long time no see, old friend.”

“A month, to be exact.” Mingyu said, suddenly serious, as he stopped in front of me, “Are you ignoring us now?”

“As if you don’t know…” I rolled my eyes and undid my arms that were in front of my chest, to turn and walk away, but Mingyu was fast and he was already pulling me in a hug. His body was bigger than mine and whenever he hugged me, I felt like I was melting into him, disappearing from the world. This time wasn’t different, in fact, it felt like his body swallowed mine all up as he gripped me tightly. One month was really that long of a time, huh. I returned the hug, suddenly realizing his tank top was damp and he didn’t smell exactly the most pleasant, at least his usual cologne was less strong, “I was busy with the studio and—are you sweating?”

“Right now?” Mingyu started laughing and his chest rocked against mine, my eyes widened, realization hitting me. He just finished work!

“Ew, Kim Mingyu, get off!” I shrieked and tried to wrestle myself out of his bear hug, but he squeezed harder and started laughing louder and louder, “You’re sweaty, no, stop!”

“Too late, dummy!” He said while laughing and twirled me around, very amused that I couldn’t get away from him.

“Don’t make me kneel you where the sun doesn’t shine!” I threatened with a deadly voice and in two second, he let go of me, “You’re disgusting!”

“That’s not something nice to say to someone, auntie…” We heard Jieun in the background say very lightheartedly.

“That’s right, Jieunie…” Mingyu said with a pout, leaning his face closer to mine. I quickly pushed it back and it made Mingyu snort before he glanced at the canvas on the coffee table.

“Oh! Did you paint this Jieun?” He asked, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Do you like it?” Jieun asked happily, bouncing on her toes.

“Love it! It’s so beautiful!”

“Thank you!” Jieun giggled and I patted her head as she came to stand by my side, grinning at Mingyu, “Next time I could paint you!”

“Oh, uncle would love that!” Mingyu winked at Jieun playfully as he looked back at me, “Missed you, Y/N.”

My heartbeat quickened and I snorted, very unladylike, as I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, sure…Can’t say I missed you very much, I guess—Yeah, kinda? A bit, yeah, I missed you too, idiot.”

“Wow,” Mingyu breathed out, an amused smile on his lips, “That sounded like you got a brain malfunction, glad to see I still make you flustered, Bae.”

“Don’t call me Bae.” I snapped at him, eyes narrowing as Mingyu went to the doorway, picking up his discarded backpack.

“Isn’t that your family name, Bae?” A sneaky smirk crossed his lips, he knew what he was doing. Of course, that is my family name but he is using it knowing it has double meaning.

“Go take a shower Kim, you stink.” I pinched the bridge of my nose with two fingers, making Jieun laugh loudly as she pointed at Mingyu.

“Auntie is making fun of you!”

“Didn’t Wonwoo hyung teach you to not point fingers or make fun of someone, Jieun?” Mingyu’s voice turned stern, but his expression remained light. Jieun, however, knew Mingyu was being serious and scolding her.

“Sorry,” She muttered with a pout and hid her face in my pants as she turned her body into me.

“Go shower, before I cut off the warm water, you dick—” I sucked in a deep breath at the almost slip, it was already bad that I let dick slip, as Mingyu started hollering with laughter.

“Good luck explaining that to Wonwoo and Joohyun later, bae.” He called as he walked down the hallway and towards the bathroom, laughter following him. I cursed in my head as I looked down at Jieun, a big smile on her lips.

“Dick?” She asked with a giggle and my eyes widened in mortification.

“Jieun, no! Never ever say that to anyone, okay?!” I snapped, eyes narrowing at her as I leaned down to be eye level with her, “Auntie will cry if you do, I swear, Jieun.”

“Auntie will be sad if I say…dick?” She giggled again and I glared at her, trying to make her understand she couldn’t say that. How do you make a kid stop from saying a bad word? Help?!

“Auntie will bawl, Jieun, not cry, bawl!” I emphasized the word, knowing how much Jieun hated seeing people cry.

“Okay, I won’t say it at all,” She raised her pinky finger and hooked it with mine, “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise.” I echoed after her, biting my lower lip nervously. This will come back and bite me in the ass later, I know it, and that’s when I’ll really be bawling. Especially if Joohyun will be shouting my head off with Wonwoo throwing daggers at me, dear God, what have I done?

       Jieun was beyond excited when I told her that I would have to cook lunch for us now, and she even volunteered to watch some Barbie movie while I do that. She knew I didn’t like other people in the kitchen with me while I was cooking, I always worked better alone. Mingyu was in the shower still, his phone blasting some upbeat song that we could hear clear and loud from the living room, hallway, and even a little bit from the kitchen. I shook my head as I turned on the Barbie movie for Jieun, Rapunzel, and walked to the kitchen while throwing daggers towards the closed and locked bathroom door. Mingyu always had weird habits but ever since we finished high school, he started developing some even weirder and annoying ones, like blasting music while showering. Maybe if it was Mozart or some jazz music it wouldn’t have bothered me, but the kind of music he listened to were men and women screaming and throwing out nasty words while saying them fast, that’s not music in my opinion. But I learned not to question him about many things, his rants would leave me with a headache afterwards, he always spoke too quickly which messed with my brain. He definitely wasn’t a very patient person and it showed in many ways.

I opened the fridge and took out everything I needed for lunch. I promised to make French fries for Jieun so that was the first thing I started working on. I washed the potatoes before peeling them and washing them again, then I placed them in a bowl and started cutting them up into long, thin, sticks. Without realizing, I found myself humming a ballad I heard a while ago while preparing the studio. It was a beautiful song about a man who regretted letting go of its lover, realizing too late what an amazing person this was. I could relate, almost, but it wasn’t me who broke up with Mingyu. He wanted us to break up, so I didn’t have much choice but to move on. Something I actually failed doing, only partially though.

I prepared the oil for the fries, placing it in a pan and putting it on the cooker, waiting for it to boil. I washed some vegetables and started cutting them, preparing a salad with some yoghurt and lemon dressing. I placed the first round of fries into the pan and hissed when some hot oil collided with the skin of my wrist, I always hated cooking with oil, that shit hurt when it burned you. As I moved around the kitchen, trying to find the salt that seemed to always be in a different cupboard, I became aware of the silence coming from the bathroom. Mingyu must have finished washing up, I strained my ears and was able to hear the Barbie movie still playing in the living room. I went back to the fridge and took out the meat that Joohyun placed there last night to defrost and took it to the chopping board. I took out the sharpest knife from the drawer bellow and started slicing up the meat into, somewhat, even pieces. I always found the cleaning and slicing of meat disgusting, nowadays, I didn’t even cook it anymore for myself. But Mingyu and Jieun really liked meat, and it seems like Joohyun had in mind to prepare it today, so I sacrificed myself to cooking it, not that it’s a big deal.

“Mhm, smells good in here,” The male voice made me flinch, I always get scared from the smallest things, “What are we cooking today?”

I heard shuffling from behind as Mingyu walked further inside the kitchen, his big feet thudding loudly against the marble floor.

“I’m cooking today.” I said as I proceeded to cut off the excess fat from the meat.

“You really don’t expect me to sit back and watch you cook?” Mingyu sounded amused and I knew I couldn’t really argue with him. He loved cooking and he was really good at it too.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind…” I trailed off as I crouched down to open the cupboard and take out a bowl, “You know I don’t like people bothering me when I do something.”

“Yeah, and if it wasn’t for me, your first round of French fries would’ve turned into ashes.” I rolled my eyes as Mingyu took his position at the cooker, taking out the French fries and dumping them into a deep bowl.

“I was about to check it…” I muttered as I proceeded to season the meat, licking the mixture from my palm. It tasted fine but I needed to mix it better so I proceeded to do that.

“From what I can see, you do need an extra pair of hands here…” Mingyu muttered with a chuckle and I felt him passing behind me to wash his hands in the sink, “Not that I wouldn’t mind sitting and watching you move around—those pants really do their justice to your ass—”

“Kim Mingyu.” I snapped and rolled my eyes, refusing to look at him and let him see the redness of my cheeks. I swear to God, he says things like that on purpose just to make me flustered. And they always work.

“What? I’m just giving you a compliment here!” He said defensively and passed again behind my back, coming a lot closer and I clenched my jaw.

“Slap my ass and I will cut off your fingers.” I warned, knowing him well enough, and Mingyu started giggling as he quickly ran past me, coming to a stop in front of the cooker. He placed the second round of potatoes into the boiling oil, no complaints coming, unlike from me. His technique was always better. I licked my finger again and hummed contently, about to wash my hands when Mingyu spoke up.

“Let me taste it!” He whined and I rolled my eyes, heading for the sink.

“When it’s done.” I muttered as I turned on the water, hand almost underneath it, when a large hand gripped my wrist and raised it up.

“Mingyu—” I choked on air when he proceeded to such off the mixture from my middle finger, knocking all air out of my lungs. He hummed with his eyes closed, lips in a pout as he released my finger from his mouth. My heart went crazy and my jaw hung open, I shifted from one leg to the other, saliva pooling in my mouth. What the fuck?!

And then my eyes proceeded to travel lower and now I was definitely turned on, “What the fuck?!”

His eyebrows rose and he looked confused as he followed my eyes, which were currently on his well defined six pack. Jesus Christ, woman, as if you haven’t seen men with six packs before! Yeah, but those men weren’t Kim Mingyu…The hand he was still holding twitched and I snatched out of his hold, mustering up my most frightening glare as my eyes connected with his. It took a lot of power to punch his biceps instead of his, very firm looking and broad, chest.

“Go put on a shirt, Jesus, Jieun doesn’t need to see you shirtless.” I scolded him and quickly turned around and washed off the mixture, before he decided to lick my whole hand clean.

“I don’t see Jieun around though…” I could hear the smirk in Mingyu’s voice and I scoffed as I rolled my eyes aggressively.

“Here or not, go put on a shirt, dickhead, no one is curious of your body. This isn’t the gym, Mingyu.” I muttered aggressively, avoiding to look at him as I reached for the towel to dry my hands, knowing well if I looked at him my eyes would be drawn to his chest instead of his face. I tensed and groaned in annoyance when Mingyu’s front was suddenly pressed up against my back, his warm enveloping mine. I hate how easily he could tease me and how easy it is to make me react; how easy it was for him to play around. I knew he only teased me because he lived for my reactions, but deep down I always hoped it was because there were still some lingering feelings for me. Maybe not, he broke up with me, after all.

“You left the water running, Y/N,” He muttered, voice low as he was so close, his breath tickled my exposed shoulder and I tried not to cover away, “Joohyun and Wonwoo won’t be too happy when their bill comes.”

“Yeah, well, how about you learn what personal space is?!” I snapped as I placed the towel down forcefully, wanting to turn around but knowing I couldn’t resist looking at his toned body, I stayed put instead.

“And miss all the reactions you give me?” He giggled as he placed his chin on my shoulder, making me sigh out loud, “That would be a total waste of my time.”

“And a lot of saving of my energy—your potatoes will turn into ash soon, so how about you move?” I raised my elbow and let it collide with his abdomen, not too harshly though. Mingyu giggled again and suddenly a new voice rang through the kitchen.

“Uncle, you’ve finished showering!” I panicked as I didn’t want Jieun to see us like this, she would tell her mom everything and I didn’t want Joohyun and Wonwoo smirking at us the next time we’ll have dinner together, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re cooking?”

Jieun was pouting and I hissed when Mingyu did nothing to move, looking at Jieun with a smug smile, “I want to help too!”

“Sure, sweetie, uncle was about to make some sandwiches, do you want to help?” Mingyu cooed at Jieun and I elbowed him again, harder this time, to make him step back. He groaned in pain and finally put distance between our bodies, when suddenly I felt teeth sinking into my shoulder.

“What the fuck?!” I couldn’t help but cry out and turn around sharply to slap a smirking Mingyu. I started back at him wide eyed as he started cackling, unphased by my slap to his side this time.

“Uncle will go and put on a shirt if he wants to live.” I said with a forced smile as I gave Mingyu a look, eyebrows raising at him, “Or do I have to make you wear one? Like a little kid?”

“Oh, bae, I can do that fine on my own.” He laughed as he walked to the table, where his grey shirt, with a deep V, was thrown down on.

“What is fuck?” Jieun asked, eyebrows furrowed, and my eyes widened as Mingyu started hollering with laughter again.

“Yeah, auntie, what is fuck?” Mingyu smirked once he was able to speak, hid laughter having died down, “I’m really curious too.”

I glared at both Mingyu and Jieun, placing my arms on my hips as I took a deep breath, “A very ugly word that only adults can use, alright?”

“Well, that’s unfortunate for you, Jieun.” Mingyu said with a shrug as he went to take the bread.

Jieun stuck her tongue out at Mingyu and I smirked as I walked towards the oven to take out the roasting tray, “I said adults, Mingyu.”

Jieun started giggling loudly and Mingyu threw me a glare as he paused slicing up the bread for the sandwiches he planned on making.

“Hand me some ham, cheese, tomatoes and lettuce, Jieunie.” Mingyu asked the little girl, watching me still as I stuck my tongue out at him before I started placing the meat into the roasting tray. Jieun pulled a chair to the fridge, climbed on it and started taking out the items Mingyu asked for.

“Thank you.” He thanked her when she waltzed back to him, grinning at Mingyu as she sat at the table, chin in her palms. I grinned at Jieun, she looked really cute. I quickly remembered the French fries and placed another round into the boiling oil, making me hiss when it went on my skin, again.

“You okay, auntie?” Jieun muttered as she threw me a glance, her eyes going back to Mingyu, who was assembling the sandwiches now.

“Yes, yes, don’t worry.” I smiled towards the girl before turning up the heat in the oven and placing the meat inside. I turned around and leaned against the counter and watched Mingyu work. His back was a bit hunched as he is very tall, his muscles flexing from time to time as he used his hands to make the sandwiches and he kept making faces at Jieun. He beaconed her over and let her place the round tomatoes into each sandwich, poking her nose and praising her once she was done. I sighed and checked on the potatoes again, stirring them a bit around.

“I have an awesome idea,” Mingyu spoke up, canines showing from how big his smile was, “Let’s have a picnic!”

“A picnic!” Jieun exclaimed, jumping up from her seat, “Auntie! We are having a picnic!”

I chuckled and nodded my head, looking at Mingyu with an impressed smile, “Seems like we are having a picnic!”

“I’m having a picnic with my favorite auntie and uncle!” Jieun shouted as she ran out into the hallway, “I will go and change! I want to wear something pretty!”

Mingyu and I laughed quietly as Jieun ran up the stairs, her feet thudding loudly upstairs as she went to her room to get changed. My eyes fell back on Mingyu, he was already looking at me, and he smiled warmly. I returned it and before I turned around, he sent a wink. I winked back and shook my head as I went to open the cupboards, looking for a tablecloth.

“I’ll prepare what we need for the picnic.” I informed Mingyu and he hummed.

“I’ll finish the rest of the potatoes, how long until the meat is done?”

“Forty-five more minutes.” I said after I glanced at my wristwatch, going around the kitchen to get the plates, utensils’ and what we else we needed.

       When forty-five minutes were up, the three of us went outside in the little garden behind the house. It was a good day, the sun high up in the sky with a few clouds here and there, and it was warm enough that you could wear a tank top and a cardigan over it. Spring was always a season I enjoyed the most. The pleasure of seeing everything bloom to life once again brought great joy for me. Taking walks in parks while the trees and grass turn once again green is a certain satisfaction you understand only if you experience it.

Meanwhile Mingyu prepared a few more dishes with Jieun’s help, I placed a blanket onto the grass and started carrying outside plates, utensils, glasses, apple juice and the food that was prepared, one by one. Jieun bounced around me the whole time, talking loudly and quickly as she told Mingyu to hurry up and bring the meat out so that we could start eating.

“Jieun,” I spoke up, looking up from my kneeling position on the blanket, “Go put on your denim jacket, sweetie, you might catch a cold in a simple t-shirt.”

“Do I have to?” She whined, lips jutting out and eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes, you do.” I gave her a look that she knew she couldn’t argue with, so she rose to her feet and ran back inside almost crashing into Mingyu when he appeared in the doorway.

“Woah, chipmunk!” He exclaimed, clutching the plate close to his chest, “We almost lost the meat!”

I giggled and shook my head at Mingyu, his eyebrows were furrowed as he turned around to shout back inside the house, making sure Jieun heard him. I sat down on the blanket, sighing out as I massaged my sore knees, I kneeled for too long.

“Stop being dramatic and bring that here.” I said when Mingyu turned back around, shaking his head in displeasure, exiting the house, “You hang out too much with Jeonghan.”

“I don’t,” He scoffed as he handed me the plate before taking a seat on the blanket, “I haven’t seen him in three weeks.”

“Oh no, did he finally ditch you?” I teased with a grin and Mingyu rolled his eyes.

“You wish, he’s my most loyal client!” Mingyu exclaimed, a proud smirk on his lips.

“Is he becoming as buff as you are?” I found myself asking absentmindedly, hating that I was confessing to having checked him out many times. It’s not my fault, his body is eye catching. The whole existence of Kim Mingyu is eye catching. You’d be a fool to be in a room and not notice him, his sole presence is powerful and like a magnet.

“Oh, so I’m buff?” I rolled my eyes as Jieun came running out the house.

“Yeah, whatever,” I muttered, smiling when Jieun plopped down next to me, “Ready to have lunch?”

“This is the best day of my life!” Jieun screeched and I chuckled, poking her cute cheek. Mingyu giggled quietly, grabbing a plate and starting to put various foods on it. Jieun watched him eagerly and so did I, failing to notice the fond smile on my lips.

“This one is for the princess,” He deepened his voice and did a little bow as he handed Jieun the plate, “From your loyal servant, Kim Mingyu.”

“No!” Jieun giggled, taking the plate excitedly, “You are uncle Mingyu! Not my servant!”

“Let me spoil you for a second, Jieun…” Mingyu said with a sigh, grabbing another plate. I handed Jieun her fork, she still struggled with her chopsticks, and placed a napkin on her lap.

“Don’t stain your pretty skirt, okay?” I asked and brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

“Don’t pressure her, Y/N,” Mingyu shot me a look, “Don’t worry about that, Jieunie, just eat freely!”

“You really do spoil her too much…” I chuckled, leaning forward to grab a plate but Mingyu slapped my hand away, “No wonder Joohyun complains about you.”

“She does?!” Mingyu made an offended sound and I watched as the, now, plate full of food was handed at me.

“Thank you.” I muttered with a smile, suddenly feeling shy at the look he was giving me. I looked away and turned my head quickly, reaching for my chopsticks. Mingyu remained quiet and I could feel him still looking at me but Jieun spoke up.

“The French fries are so good!” She exclaimed, making a ‘mm’ sound as she stuffed her mouth with more, “You cook better than mommy and daddy!”

“We do?” I asked with a laugh, glancing at Mingyu, who was smiling smugly.

“Of course, we do!” He gave me a look, “You’re sitting next to Korea’s biggest chef!”

“You wish.” I snorted meanwhile Jieun started giggling, shooting finger guns at Mingyu who winked back at her. It was heartwarming to see Mingyu and Jieun interact, their personalities were weirdly quite similar. Except, Mingyu was acting like a child sometimes as an adult and Jieun was still a child, she had an excuse. I liked spending my time with the two, I felt refreshed and full of positive energy afterwards. Even Mingyu’s teasing could feel pleasant after a long and tiring day at the studio.

“How’s the studio going?” My ears perked up when Mingyu spoke up, eyes on me.

“Oh, pretty well,” I said after swallowing, “The exposition is going well, I wish I was there…”

“Yeah, sorry,” Mingyu scratched his chin, shooting me an apologetic smile, “I thought I wouldn’t be able to come look after Jieun today, that’s why I told Joohyun to ask you. I had three more clients that were supposed to come in but Jeonghan is apparently sick, the other pulled a muscle two days ago and can barely walk and well the third one—I forgot.”

“You always forget things, uncle…” Jieun said with a giggle, dipping her French fry into ketchup. I leaned over the bowls placed in front of me on the blanket and grabbed the one with the salad.

“You have to eat vegetables to stay healthy, Jieun, not just junk food.” I said as I pushed a bit of the salad on Jieun’s plate, making her scrunch up her nose in disgust.

“You’re like dad, ew.” She muttered, shooting me a cute glare. I giggled and put the bowl down, turning towards Mingyu.

“I get it, don’t worry…” I reassured him with a smile, eating more of the meat from my plate, “I just worked so hard for this exposition and—you know Vernon and Minghao! They always find something to disagree on and to be honest, I hope they can keep it together at least until the event is over…”

Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed as he nodded in understanding and he placed his right hand on my thigh, giving it a small squeeze, “Don’t worry, Vernon and Minghao know how much this means to you. And, besides, they would be jeopardizing themselves too if they fuck up, so…maybe that’ll make you sleep better at night—”

I started laughing, loudly, as I squeezed my eyes shut the food still in my mouth. Mingyu paused talking and his eyebrows were raised as he exchanged glances with a confused looking Jieun. It made me laugh more and I had to place my plate down and swallow carefully, my body rocking with laughter.

“Uh—I’m sure what I said wasn’t that funny—” And then Jieun started laughing too and I couldn’t help it but laugh harder. Jieun was clapping her hands excessively as she kept pointing her finger at Mingyu’s face, unable to say much.

“Un—uncle—you—” I tried to take deep breaths and calm down. Mingyu’s confused face turned into an angry expression, plate sitting on his thigh, as he crossed his arms in front of broad chest.

“What.” He snapped, eyes falling on me now that I stopped laughing.

“You—” I took a deep breath, calming my racing heart and clutching my stomach, “Have salad stuck between your front teeth, I’m sorry—”

I started giggling again and Mingyu’s eyes widened as he started chuckling, sticking his finger in his mouth to take care of the stray salad stuck between his teeth.

“Ew, uncle!” Jieun screeched, closing her eyes, “Cover your mouth when you do that!”

“Yeah, did your parents never teach you that’s disgusting?” I threw him a disgusted look and Mingyu grinned once he cleaned his teeth.

“You dared to laugh, at me,” He pointed at himself, straightening his back, “The great, Kim Mingyu?”

“Please…” I rolled my eyes with a scoff and gave Jieun a look, a look she returned with an amused grin.

“You shall face the punishment now!” I scoffed again and Mingyu leaned over the food and started poking Jieun’s sides, making her laugh again. She swatted at his fingers, throwing him a glare when he stopped.

“That’s not funny…” She muttered to herself as she resumed eating and I chuckled about to eat as well, when I felt a jab in my side.

“You don’t want to do this, Kim Mingyu,” I warned him, pointing a chopstick at him, “We both know you are more ticklish…”

“A punishment is a punishment, bae.” I rolled my eyes at the nickname but of course, Mingyu quickly started tickling my side and I started jabbing him with my chopstick wherever I could.

“Fight, fight, fight!” Jieun started chanting playfully and I huffed as I caught Mingyu’s wrist and stopped him.

“Seriously, don’t.” He pouted and pulled his arm back, throwing me a glance.

“You’re no fun.”

“Do you want me to tickle you?” I raised my eyebrows, wriggling my fingers when Mingyu glared.

“No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Halfway through the meal, Jieun said she had enough and got up and ran to the little swing they had for her in the garden. Mingyu and I remained on the blanket, splitting what Jieun left on her plate and eating that too. Once we were finished, I poured him some apple juice, then for myself, and we drank it quietly while watching Jieun run around. I chuckled when she started playing with a small butterfly flying by, handing my cup to Mingyu when he asked for it. He gathered our plates, the bowls of food and put them on the far end of the blanket, away from us so that it wouldn’t bother us. Mingyu was leaning back on his forearms as his eyes followed Jieun around, a fond smile on his lips. I sighed and glanced at him, my eyes falling on the black camera resting by his thigh.

“How’s that business going?” I spoke, getting Mingyu’s attention. He followed my vision of line and nodded his head lightly.

“Pretty well,” He said, picking up the camera in his hands, “I’m collaborating with a high school currently, so I’m taking graduation pictures of their seniors.”

My lips formed an ‘O’ shape and I gave him a smirk, “You must be pretty famous around that high school.”

Mingyu chuckled and nodded his head, “Can’t say I’m not, Y/N.”

“Right, can’t remember a time you weren’t famous…” I trailed off, the two of us sharing a knowing look. Mingyu nodded solemnly and then raised his camera, turning it on.

“Two weeks ago, I had a wedding, that one was a big hit, made a lot of money!” He said with a grin, looking into his camera as he pointed it up towards the sky. I looked up and saw the sky was covered with more clouds now, but the sun was still shining brightly.

“I wanted to ask you to come to our studio for today, but Vernon and Minghao apparently booked a really famous photographer so, you know…I didn’t want to say no to them…”

“Yeah, that’s fine!” Mingyu shrugged and started grinning as he took pictures of Jieun, “Your events are way too prestigious, I might have turned down your offer either way.”

“No, you wouldn’t have, Mingyu.” I chuckled, raising my eyebrows and making him glance at me.

“You sound so sure…why not?”

“Because it’s me asking.” Mingyu’s finger paused mid-air and he gulped before nodding his head wordlessly. It’s moments like this one that give me hope, hope that he still feels something for me. Even if it’s been five years. It was enough time for us to get over the other, but having to spend so much time together again made me realize that I wasn’t even far from being over him. Maybe it’s the memories we share, the time spent together, the pleasant moments, the hardships or the person I shaped into while being with him, but it was really hard to look at him and not feel something more than just platonic feelings. It came as a shock after we finished high school to find out that Joohyun and Wonwoo have been dating for two years in secret. No one ever saw it coming, they never left any hints for us to pick up on, it just seemed like they got along due to Mingyu and I dating and always being together. Turns out, they were dating too at the same time with us, except their relationship worked out. And I couldn’t have been happier, they were perfect for each other and they blessed us with little Jieun, the sweetest kid. When Jieun turned two, Joohyun and Wonwoo decided to get married and tie the knot for a lifetime. I was a little jealous when we got the news of their marriage, I always thought I’d be the one to get married first as Joohyun was closed off and wasn’t ever interested in dating or having a family. I guess it was just a matter of time and person.

My eyes widened when the camera made a sound, this time directed at me. Mingyu was grinning as he kept snapping picture after picture and I raised my middle finger at him while sticking my tongue out.

“Hey!” He gave me a glare before turning the camera back to Jieun, snapping a picture of her as she was playing with the flowers, making a crown for herself, “Look at this!”

Mingyu’s canines showed again as his grin spread bigger, he scooted closer, “Joohyun will love this shot!”

It was a close up of Jieun, she was crouched down with yellow flowers in her hands, her dark hair falling around her shoulders and lips in a soft pout. I smiled and looked at Mingyu, “Why don’t you drop the gym and turn into a professional photographer? You are so talented.”

“Y/N,” He gave me a grin and a scoff, as if I already knew the answer, “You know photography is just a hobby for me—”

“Doesn’t it pay better than that smelly gym you work at?” I interrupted him with my eyebrows raised. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned around to take more pictures of the nature.

“Smelly or not, I really like working there…” He muttered and Jieun shrieked, alerting us.

“Jieun?” I asked loudly, eyebrows raised when she turned around, she was holding something brown between her fingers.

“It’s a caterpillar!” She exclaimed excitedly, waving the small animal between her fingers.

“Say hi and put it back into the earth, okay?” I called back and Mingyu snorted as he looked up from his camera.

“This one goes for Wonwoo…” He grinned to himself, looking at me, “His daughter ain’t a pussy like your sister—”

“Mingyu!” I threw him a glare and punched his arm, “Irene hates every little insect, you know that. It’s not her fault—”

“It technically is though.” He gave me a pouty look and I snorted and shook my head. I extended my arms over my head and stretched, hearing the camera go off again, before laying down on the blanket. I groaned loudly as the tension eased from my lower back and I relaxed into the earth, closing my eyes to breathe in deeply the warm air. It was tranquil, the moment felt nice, Jieun’s laughter and chatter faded nicely into the background. I let my muscles relax and enjoy the moment of calmness, that is until weight was dumped on me. I yelped loudly, eyes opening and muscles tensing as I went to sit up but Mingyu’s hand pushed me back down.

“Don’t get up!” He exclaimed, eyebrows furrowed, “Why’d you move?!”

I threw him a glare as I watched him whine more, pushing his ass against my pelvis and sitting on me.

“Mingyu, I don’t know if anyone has made you aware of this, but you are heavy!” I exclaimed again, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“I won’t get off until you give me the same expression you did a few seconds ago—”

“How can I do that when a man is literally crushing me?” I raised my eyebrows and Mingyu scoffed, pushing up onto his knees but still straddling me.

“Happy?”

“Not until you completely get off.” I gave him a sweet smile and Mingyu threw me a glare as Jieun’s loud laughter came from behind him.

“Why are you sitting on auntie?” She asked giggling.

“Good question, Jieun, I think he wants to crush auntie—”

“I was just trying to take a picture of auntie, Jieun, but she’s stubborn and wants to upset me.” Mingyu said pouting, giving Jieun a sad look.

“Well, hurry up auntie then, I want to go inside—I’m tired.” Just as she finished speaking, she yawned and pouted.

“Five more minutes and we go take a nap, okay?” I smiled at Jieun and she nodded before running back to the swing. I looked back up at Mingyu and gulped as I stared into his eyes, the butterflies in my stomach kicking off.

“Make it quick, okay?” I sighed out and closed my eyes, willing my body to relax and let go. Forget that Mingyu is straddling me and dangling his camera in my face like all those times when we were still dating. The camera went off and so did my heart, it started beating faster and faster as all the memories swam in my mind tauntingly.

The basketball court was full of students as everyone was in recess. I was sitting with my friends on a bench underneath a tree to hide from the blazing sun as we all ate our lunch and gazed out onto the field, where the basketball team was shooting around. All guys were tall, the team consisted of mostly juniors and seniors, but Yuto, a guy my age, made it into the team due to his height.

“Ah!” Yuna exclaimed next to me, eyes following a boy, “Look at Wonwoo! He’s so handsome!”

“He’s a good player…” I muttered as I finished up my lunch.

“He could be the worst and I’d still love him!” Yuna mused and the rest of our friends agreed with her. I rolled my eyes when someone from behind us scoffed.

“So, you only watch the basketball team because the players are handsome?” The voice was sharp and I rolled my eyes, turning to face my sister.

“You’re still moody?” I asked her and she shook her head, coming to stand in front of me and blocking my view of the field.

“No, I passed my chemistry test, I’m feeling better.” She gave me a wide grin and extended her arm. She was holding a small cartoon of chocolate milk and my eyes lit up.

“Unnie!” I gave her a big grin and stood up to give her a brief hug, “Thank you!”

“Yeah, mom told me you forgot to pack one.”

“You’re the best.” Joohyun chuckled and pinched my cheek aggressively.

“You only say that when I give you something or do something for you—”

“Joohyun—” My friends shrieked and both Joohyun and I jumped as a ball hit my sister’s back. She hissed and turned sharply, the ball bouncing on the ground.

“Joohyun—” My friends started but Wonwoo running over shut them up quickly.

“Are you okay?” His deep voice was laced with worry and Joohyun glared the boy down. She was a lot shorter but her gaze could always make her seem powerful and scary. She leaned down wordlessly and picked the basketball up.

“Be careful next time, Wonwoo.” Her voice was soft, a contrast to the look on her face.

“Sorry, Joohyun.” Wonwoo bowed his head a bit, hands extending to take the ball from my sister. She glanced down at the ball before handing it over, their hands brushing against each other and small smiles appearing on their faces. The snap of a camera distracted me from throwing a suspicious look at the two in front of me. A tall guy, taller than Wonwoo, was holding up a camera to his left eye as he grinned.

“Yah! Kim Mingyu!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Yah! Bae Y/N!” He imitated my voice, pushing his lips out into an exaggerated pout.

“I don’t look like that!” I snapped at him with a glare as Mingyu walked closer.

“Yes, you do.” He taunted, the camera hanging at his side. Wonwoo and Joohyun chuckled behind me and I glanced back to see them lost in their own conversation.

“Stop pouting, you’re too cute.” Mingyu cooed and I punched his bicep as he started leaning down.

“Why do you keep taking pictures of me—” My words got muffled when Mingyu pressed a small kiss against my lips, a smile appearing on my lips.

“What were you complaining about?” He whispered as he pulled back just a little bit, making my smile widen.

“Nothing.” I muttered and as I went to press another kiss against his lips, his camera went off again. My eyes snapped open to find Mingyu giggling as he was looking down at the picture he took, cheeks rosy.

“Yah! Kim Mingyu!” I exclaimed and raised my arm to punch his arm again but he suddenly jumped back. He stuck his tongue out and I glared at him.

“You two are so immature.” I heard Wonwoo saying from behind me.

“He won’t stop taking pictures of me!” I snapped, watching as Mingyu was slowly raising his camera up again, “Don’t you dare—”

Snap. Oh, that’s it, he asked for it. I took off running towards him but Mingyu just giggled loudly and took off too, running ahead of me.

“You can’t catch me!” He shouted as he turned his head before running faster.

“Screw your long legs!” I shouted after him as I chased him around the basketball field, underneath the blazing sun.

“I love you!” He shouted while trying to take more pictures of me, almost falling when he tripped on a rock.

“You’re an idiot!” I screamed after him, laughing when he almost fell, “I love you!”

“I know you do!” He winked cockily and slowed his running, making me think I’d finally catch up. But when he was in arms reach, he sped up again while cackling evilly. I let out a frustrated cry and continued chasing him, unphased by the looks the students were giving us.

The click of the camera brought me back to the present and I opened my eyes to find Mingyu with his eyebrows raised and a small smile on his lips. His personality didn’t change much since high school but his looks did. It’s not like that mattered much, I didn’t like him for his looks, it was his personality that drew me in at first. His looks were just a plus.

“I want to go in!” Jieun came running to us, whining loudly.

“We are going.” I smiled at her as she looked down at me with a pout and I looked up at Mingyu with raised eyebrows. He blinked and looked at me for a second before he realized he was straddling me, so he got off and helped me off the blanket as well.

“Can you please clean up? I have a Yoga class in half an hour.” I said after looking at my wrist watch.

“And Jieun?” Mingyu asked as he started gathering the things we gathered on the blanket.

“I’ll put her to sleep, don’t worry about her.” I gave Jieun a smile and crouched down, opening my arms, “Do you want auntie to carry you to your room?”

“Yes!” Jieun exclaimed, her droopy eyes widening as she climbed into my arms quickly. I patted her back and walked inside the house, towards her room upstairs.

        Jieun took longer than I expected to fall asleep, leaving me ten minutes to get ready for my Yoga class. I closed her door carefully after drawing her curtains closed and raced into the master bedroom, opening Joohyun’s closet. We go to Yoga class twice a week together so I have my clothes here, in case, I don’t have time to go home from the studio. We were supposed to go together today but since I had to be at the studio, we decided to postpone it. Thankfully, our Yoga instructor does online classes in the afternoon for those who couldn’t attend it in the morning. I quickly got dressed in my olive khaki green leggings and matching sports bra, rushing downstairs quietly, to Joohyun’s study room, where we kept our mattresses. She had enough space in her office, so I decided to lay out the Yoga mat underneath the window and quickly turned on her laptop, logging onto the platform of my instructor. In the big rush, I forgot to close the door and I could hear Mingyu coming and going from the garden, bringing everything inside like I asked him to do. I pulled my hair in a low ponytail and took a comfortable seat on the mat as the instructor started the class.

“Good afternoon!” She greeted with a big smile on her lips, her voice raspy but honey-like, “Good to see some familiar faces around; Y/N…”

I smiled and turned on the microphone, “Nice to see you! Joohyun and I couldn’t make it in the morning, we were both busy.”

“Is she not joining us today?” The instructor asked as more cameras got turned on, there was a total of ten people in today’s class.

“No, she’s not at home, at the moment.” I answered her and as the backdoor was closed, loud singing rang through the hallway. Mingyu’s deep voice bounced around the quiet house and my eyes widened as I quickly shut off my microphone, embarrassed when I saw some ladies smiling through their cameras. I glanced out in the hallway as Mingyu passed by the office, unaware that I was inside, as he bobbed his head to his own rhythm while he continued singing. Did he forget I put Jieun to sleep? He’s going to wake her up. But before I could quickly go and shut him up and close the door to the office, our instructor alerted us that we were starting the session.

“I prepared a relaxing Yoga sequence for today, a thirteen-minute-long practice,” She said with a smile as we took a comfortable seat in Lotus pose, “It’s the middle of the week, but we might be feeling burned out a little bit. I know that I do!”

I chuckled as I straightened my back, aligning head over heart, and heart over pelvis, “You can turn on your microphones as we are about to take deep breaths together, let us hear each other.”

I quickly reached over and turned on the microphone, as did the other ladies, whom I were familiar with from other classes, “Good, now let’s take five deep breaths in, tuck your chins, straighten your backs and close your eyes, empty your mind.”

I did as I was told, willing my muscles to relax as everyone took deep five breaths, emptying our lungs out loudly. It was a relaxing motion and it always helped me focus on the task I was about to do, my mind was a buzzing place 24/7. But my tranquil moment ended when Mingyu’s voice rose a few octaves and he started sputtering words after words. I opened one eye to see if the others could hear him as well, but upon seeing no reaction, I quickly closed my eye and took one more deep breath to relax again.

“Let us stretch our side bodies now.” With eyes open, I followed the instructor, breathing deeply still, “This is a great moment to take a step back from your busy lives and reflect on yourselves. Get lost in the silence and the guidance of my voice, trust your bodies and meet me in a tabletop position.”

I smiled and slowly moved into the position, cracking my lower back in the process, “Let’s do three rounds of cat and cow now, everyone following their own rhythm. We are not here to rush today.”

Closing my eyes, I arched my back into a cow position, letting out a quiet sigh when a few vertebras popped, then starting from the tailbone, I curled up into a cat position. I did that two more times while breathing deep, hearing the other ladies do the same calmed my nerves a little bit. I got lost in my own world, finally, blocking out sounds from the outside that didn’t serve me in this moment.

“On your next breath in, bring your big toes together and widen your knees as big as your mat, then meet me in extended child’s pose, with active fingers.” The instructor spoke up, and we followed, “Let’s wake up the muscles in our upper backs while opening our heart space, okay?”

The skin of my lower back and upper back were getting a good stretch as I gently rocked from side to side at the hips, loosening up the tight joints, breathing deeply.

“Make your next inhale the longest breath you’ve taken all day long and, on your exhale, let go of everything that doesn’t serve you by using lion’s breath,” I filled my lungs with air to the brim and paused at the top for three second before sticking my tongue out, eyes looking at my third eye and letting all the air out, similar sighs coming through the laptop.

“Carefully moving, let’s meet in downward dog, but only proceed from a tabletop position.” I raised back into a tabletop position and carefully, knees bent and arms placed at a wide distance on the map, I raised into a downward dog position, heels coming down on the earth.

“Let’s pedal it out,” The instructor said, “Your heels don’t have to come down to the earth straight away, pedal them out first, feel your muscles stretch and when you did all that, grow heavy in your heels and come to a still position for three deep cleansing breaths.”

I moved my legs as if I was walking, in one place, pedaling them out and sighing out when my hamstrings got the stretch they so desperately needed. I ground my heels down and stilled my movements, taking deep breaths. As I took in my last set of deep breath, the floor creaked in the doorway and I opened my eyes, seeing Mingyu upside down from this position, standing in the doorway. His jaw was hung open but when we made eye-contact, a wide smirk spread on his lips.

“Damn,” He muttered as he leaned against the doorframe, “If you only had this ass back in high school too—”

I gasped as my cheeks flushed, the sudden laughter coming from the laptop making Mingyu jump. His eyes widened as he looked towards the screen, and as I lowered from the downward dog, I caught the faint tint of red on his cheeks. The ladies were still giggling, the instructor’s eyebrows raised curiously.

“Uh—I’m really sorry—he didn’t know my microphone was on—”

“Good evening, ladies,” Mingyu smiled charmingly, they could see him well through the camera, “Sorry for interrupting, I’ll quickly head out.”

“Now, now,” The instructor said with a chuckle as Mingyu slowly left, throwing me a smirk that made me glare at him, “We needed that laughter, didn’t we, ladies?”

There was a chorus of agreements and my cheeks flushed again as I chuckled in embarrassment, “Sorry, he’s—”

“A charming young man, indeed,” The instructor interrupted me with a small smile, “let’s try to focus once again though and repeat our downward dog before we proceed with our practice.”

And we did proceed with our relaxing practice, but the problem was I couldn’t relax with Mingyu continuously walking in and out of Irene’s study room and always whispering things at me. At first, he was asking for some books Wonwoo recommended him to read, then he took a seat on Irene’s couch and started reading out loud but in a whisper, meanwhile I kept throwing glares at him. Does he know he’s supposed to leave me alone? By the time the class took an end I wasn’t anywhere relaxed, instead I was angry and irritated. The practice was supposed to make me feel light and relaxed but due to Mingyu bothering me, it didn’t work out. When we were talking leisurely after we finished the practice, Mingyu dangled his head into the camera. The ladies started laughing again and he had a heartful conversation with my Yoga instructor, to which he even got an invitation to her class after he complained about his muscles being stiff after a long day at the gym. When we were saying our goodbye’s, a lady had the audacity to call Mingyu and I, a cute and playful couple, which I wanted to deny but before I could, Mingyu was nodding and thanking her making my heart pump quickly. Once the call was over, Mingyu sat back on the couch and I proceeded to roll up Irene’s mat and placed it back to its place, throwing a glare at a grinning Mingyu. My eyes fell on the book he tormented me with and I took it in my hand and whacked him over the head.

“Hey!” He exclaimed and started rubbing his head, “What are you doing?!”

“What are you doing?!” I snapped, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “I took the Yoga class to relax a little bit but thanks to you I just became more irritated!”

“You did?” He raised his eyebrows and I went to whack him again but he caught my arm and quickly jumped up, “Okay, okay, I get it! Sorry, I won’t do it next time!”

“Of course, you won’t. There’s no next time.” I rolled my eyes and let Mingyu take the book from me and place it back onto the shelf.

“What are you saying?” He asked with a chuckle, becoming amused when I sighed and looked at him expectantly, “I got an invitation to your instructor’s next class and I’m definitely not going to miss it—”

“Hell, no.” I snapped and turned around to leave the office, but not before opening the window to let fresh air in, “So that you torment me there too? No, thank you.”

“Come on! I won’t!” Mingyu whined as he followed after me, closing the door behind me, “I’ll take it seriously!”

“You won’t, I know you too well, Kim Mingyu.” I said with a snort as I started walking up the stairs, Mingyu still following close behind.

“Please?” He looked at me with puppy eyes when I glanced back, “I’ll let you drive me around, okay?”

“As if I want to do that.” I scoffed as I walked to the master bedroom to get my clothes before I head to shower.

“I know you do,” A smirk crossed Mingyu’s lips as he blocked my way, “I heard from Wonwoo you bought a new Mercedes, I just know you’re dying to show it off to me.”

“Am not.” I said with a scoff, biting my lip afterwards. Oh, and how right he is, I can’t wait to pick him up from work and drive him here, in my new light turquoise Mansory S-Class Cabriolet, the next time we are having dinner with Joohyun, Wonwoo, and Jieun.

“You do,” Mingyu cooed and I rolled my eyes as I side stepped him, heading out the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom.

“Now, stay quiet and don’t wake Jieun, I want to shower.”

“Go, go,” Mingyu ushered me inside the bathroom, gripping the handle, “Relax now, since you couldn’t while doing Yoga.”

“Dickhead—” He cut me off by closing the door in my face and I could hear his giggles as he walked away, his footsteps still loud. I groaned and quickly put my hair in a bun, turning on the warm water in the shower stall. The bathroom upstairs was bigger and it was divided in two in such way that if someone was showering another person could still come in because you wouldn’t see them, as the shower stall was just behind the other wall.

       And there’s a reason why I usually avoid showering upstairs. It’s so big that the person won’t even hear the running water and often times would walk in, it happened with both Joohyun and Wonwoo while I showered, when they newly bought the house. Like I said, they still couldn’t see you, but the thought alone was enough to drive me away from showering upstairs and just using the downstairs shower. And that same thing happened while I was massaging an exfoliating soap onto my skin. The door opened and I heard feet thudding inside loudly.

“Jieun?” I called out, straining my ears to hear the person inside, “Did you have a nightmare and wake up? Mingyu is downstairs sweety, I’m showering, you can go to him—”

“Yeah,” My eyes widened at the male voice and I quickly turned around in the shower stall, making sure he didn’t already approach me, “Mingyu is upstairs, actually.”

“What the hell are you doing inside, Mingyu?!” I exclaimed, frozen as I listened closely, “I’m showering!”

“Uh, yeah, I know, you told me and I hear the water running—”

“What the fuck are you doing inside then?!” I exclaimed again, eyebrows furrowing when Mingyu cursed loudly.

“Fuck, I stubbed my toe!” He hissed and I scoffed as I quickly rinsed off the soap, “And I know, but I was bored downstairs alone…”

“So, you just come and intrude on a woman while she’s showering? Because that’s fine?” I snapped; eyebrows raised even if he couldn’t see me. I heard the toilet making sounds and realized Mingyu closed the lid and sat on top of it.

“Hey, don’t make me sound like a creep!”

“You are being a creep right now, though.” I pointed out as I took my regular, tropical scented, body lotion and spread it on my body.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t even see anything, you know that, I just—” He let out a long sigh and my eyebrows raised as I paused.

“You just, what?” I asked curiously as I let the warm water wash off the body lotion.

“I was wondering, like, I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, actually, you know…” There was a pause as Mingyu cleared his throat before he continued, “Just…after we broke up, you know…did you date anyone else? Like, had a boyfriend, girlfriend, or something…”

My eyebrows furrowed at the odd question, not expecting it from Mingyu, we never talked about relationships or partners. We always stayed away from the topic that involved our personal lives for multiple reasons, so it was a surprise that he finally asked about it, especially when I was showering.

“I mean…” I let out a breath, standing underneath the warm water, “It’s been five years since we…broke up, so…yeah. I had…three…boyfriends.”

“Oh,” Mingyu sounded surprised and I grimaced waiting for him to continue speaking, “Yeah, I had a lot of flings during college, then a serious girlfriend that lasted for a year only, so…”

He chuckled, but I could hear he didn’t take it lightly, it bothered him that it didn’t work out. Something was bothering him still; I could hear it in his voice.

“Well, you know, I don’t know if Joohyun and Wonwoo talked about me and if they did and Wonwoo told you, but…” I took a deep breath and turned off the water, reaching for the long towel, “You pretty much broke my heart, no joke.”

Mingyu remained quiet as I placed the towel around my body and secured it tightly at my breasts, “I don’t blame you now, with this mentality, and I don’t hate you either anymore.”

We both chuckled at the same time and Mingyu sighed as we both stayed put where we were standing, “Honestly, I was a big dick back then. Breaking up with you because I wanted to get the whole college experience—I was a fucking idiot, to be honest.”

“You still are…” I muttered and Mingyu chuckled before he sighed again, “Actually…you know, how I was supposed to come with a plus one to my sister and Wonwoo’s wedding?”

“Yeah, and then you showed up with—”

“Minghao,” We said at the same time.

“Yeah, Minghao, and everyone was fucking confused from your family.” Mingyu continued talking, “Even Wonwoo…I still don’t get what the fuss was about.”

“I was supposed to come with my fiancé—”

“Fiancé?!” Mingyu choked out and I giggled, “You had a fiancé at the age of twenty-one, what the fuck?! And you didn’t tell me?!”

“We met when I was nineteen, actually, but back then I was kinda playing around with two guys, you know…still not over you, dickhead, but then him and I got closer and we got engaged three months before the wedding.” I explained, enjoying when Mingyu gasped.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know?” I asked with a chuckle, leaning my head against the wet tiles of the shower stall, “We realized we were too different? I don’t know, honestly, but I’m glad we broke up. I don’t think we were a good match.”

“Yeah, I’m glad too.” I scoffed and I heard shuffling, meaning Mingyu stood up, “Why did even Vernon show up at the wedding? He wasn’t even invited—”

“Two drunk calls from Minghao and I were enough to bring him around—”

“And then I had to drive the three of you home, yeah, I remember.” Mingyu didn’t sound amused and I started laughing.

“Well, if you were dumb enough to come by car and not with a cab like everyone else…”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mingyu scoffed and he cleared his throat again and hesitated to speak, “So, uhm, I was thinking…let’s go on a date?”

I blinked once and then twice and paused. Kim Mingyu was asking me on a date? Or was I hallucinating?

“I really should have waited after you finished showering, not seeing your face is frustrating.” He groaned to himself and I chuckled.

“To your information, I’m gaping right now,” Mingyu chuckled and I pursed my lips, “You want to go on a date with me?”

“Yeah, I think we are both mature enough to start things over, if we wanted to,” He sighed and I licked my lips, pushing off from the wall, “At least, I want to if you’re not against it.”

“Did spending your day with me make you nostalgic, Kim Mingyu?” I asked with a chuckle and he just hummed. I didn’t know how to feel. Did I still have feelings for him? Yes. Did he hurt me already once? Yes. But as he said, we are adults now, we view things differently now. I’m still unsure however.

“I can’t give you an answer right now,” I decided to be honest with him, he deserved it, “Give me time to think.”

He hummed quietly and I knew he wasn’t expecting that answer and he was disappointed, but he quickly spoke up, “I’ll go wake Jieun so that we can prepare dinner together.”

And he was out of the bathroom, leaving me alone with my conflicting thoughts. Did I want to go on a date with him? Yes. Was I afraid we wouldn’t work out anymore and I’d lose him forever? Yes.

        After Jieun woke up, the three of us went downstairs and prepared dinner together, spending a good hour in the kitchen. But it still wasn’t dinner time so we snuggled up on the couch in the living room and watched a family movie together, Mingyu bringing us a big blanket to keep us warm. Jieun was snuggled up into his side, putting Mingyu into the middle, and I threw him a curious glance when he kept shifting around, until his arm was around my shoulders and his body was leaning onto mine.

“It’s comfier.” He whispered, keeping his eyes on the TV and I shook my head before looking back towards the TV and feeling my cheeks heat up. It felt nice being snuggled up next to him, his warmth enveloping mine and creating a feeling of calmness and safety. If there was a feeling I missed after Mingyu left me, it was the safety I felt whenever I was with him. His bigger body and the way he carried himself and even interacted when he was with me made it obvious to me that he’d do anything to keep me safe and that I shouldn’t worry. So, in the middle of the movie I cleared my throat and glanced up at him to see him already looking down at me.

“Let’s go on that date.” I whispered quietly at him and instantly Mingyu was grinning from ear to ear, squeezing my shoulder tightly for a few seconds before he sighed out happily. I chuckled and placed a palm against his beating hart, cheeks flushing when I felt his quick pulse. A feeling of fulfilment filled my senses and I couldn’t help the smile spreading onto my own lips.

       After the movie was over, the moon was high up in the sky, and we headed to the kitchen to have dinner. Jieun excitedly told us stories about her encounters with other kids in kindergarten and how she kept tricking her nanny into giving her candy without her mom and dad knowing. Dinner was filled with giggles and Mingyu throwing me glances every few minutes, eyes warm and happy. Jieun even pointed it out at some point, asking us if we were hiding a secret or surprise from her. When we reassured her that no, we weren’t, she pouted and settled on finishing her dinner quietly while Mingyu and I conversed about what we did the one month we didn’t meet up, laughing at the memories we shared in high school when one brought it up randomly. After dinner, Jieun had a warm bubble bath and I braided her hair in two, helping her into her pajamas before Mingyu and I tucked her in bed. We were both sitting on each side of her bed, her bedside lap turned on and we chatted for a little while, until she fell asleep.

“You know,” Jieun muttered sleepily, her eyes already closed, “Uncle and auntie act just like dad and mommy. Will you have babies too? I’ll have someone to play with forever…”

Mingyu and I shared a look as I chuckled and leaned over Jieun, cradling her cheek, “Auntie and uncle aren’t like that, Jieun. There’s men and women who are just friends, who love each other but never make babies, because it’s not that kind of love, you know?”

“Don’t worry, Jieunie,” Mingyu leaned closer too, a devilish smirk crossing his lips, “Uncle will convince auntie to make babies so that you’ll have someone to play with, okay?”

Jieun’s eyes opened and she grinned widely as I threw Mingyu a glare, “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!”

“Hey!” I exclaimed quietly as the two pinky promised in front of me with grins on their lips as if I wasn’t even there, “It’s not that easy to make babies—”

“We’ll figure it out.” Mingyu cut me off with a wink and I scoffed, leaning down and kissing Jieun’s cheek.

“Sweet dreams, angel.”

“Sweet dreams, chipmunk.” Jieun grinned as Mingyu pressed a quick kiss against her forehead and then we got up, turned off her bedside lamp and turned on her fairy lights. Quietly closing her door, we descended down the stairs and I could feel Mingyu smirking next to me, his hand continuously brushing against mine.

“Stop giving Jieun false hope, dickhead.” I snapped finally, making Mingyu giggled. He was expecting my reaction, as we walked back to the living room.

“I was being serious, Bae.” I groaned as Mingyu turned on the TV, putting on some random movie as we sat down on the couch, pulling the blanket over us again. We remained silent during the movie, enjoying the presence of the other, and my heart started racing when Mingyu interlaced his fingers with mine underneath the blanket and placed our hands on his thigh. I didn’t realize I wanted this until it happened, and I couldn’t be gladder. Because in this world, there was no one like Kim Mingyu, and he was mine.

My one and only true love.

[talesofstyles]

Reconcile II

Ok so I know that I wrote the first part with reader insert, but after many, many attempts to keep it that way, it just didn’t work with this one. So I’d like for you to meet Emma. This is my first time writing with OC and wow game changer. I love her and I hope you do too!

Also, I honestly can’t thank my beta queens enough @oh-honey-styles @for-fucks-sake-h 🥺💛 thanks for allll the comments and suggestions and nice words!!! ily both xx

Read part I here

Harry

“So… are we okay now?”

We’re sitting here on the sofa, finally having that very much needed father-daughter date. Granted, a movie night in was not what I had in mind. I wasn’t too thrilled when she said she wanted to just go back home after we dropped George at his classmate’s house for a birthday sleepover. I thought she would hole up in her room instead and ignore me. But she didn’t. I got us pizza for tea, and we’ve got Shrek 2 on the telly. Her animosity towards me disappeared just like that after she asked for a puppy the other day. Of course, I’m glad to have my happy-go-lucky daughter back, but deep down I know that we need to have a proper chat. The change in her behaviour is so abrupt that I know there’s a chance that my daughter is still bitter with me deep down. And that won’t do. I can take a lot of things, but my daughter’s resentment is not one of them.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” she nods as she takes a bite of her pizza. “You’re still getting me a puppy right?”

“I still need to talk to your mum about it, poppet,” I tell her. “Puppies need a lot of attention. It’s going to be hard work and that puppy is going to be a permanent member of our family. We’ve really got to think about it before we decide.”

I expect a little excitement knowing that her mum and I are really considering getting a puppy. But what I get is quite the opposite. My little girl’s gaze drops, her face slackening. Her voice cracks a little when she mumbles, “except… we’re not a family.”

I wince, realising how serious the effect our split has on my daughter. Despite Emma and I putting on a friendly, united front for our children, Minnie is still sad that her parents are not together. 

“Of course we’re still a family,” I assure her, pulling her to me for a comforting side hug. “I’m still your dad, mummy is still your mum, and you and George are still the lights of our lives.” 

“But you and mummy aren’t together anymore,” she points out bitterly. “And you live so far away from us now. I miss having you at home.”

“I know, my love,” I murmur gently, and turn sideways so she can see my face. “It’s killing me too. But you never know what the future holds, right?”

“I guess,” she says glumly.

I wish I can tell her that I’m trying to win her mum back so we can be together again, but I know I can’t do that. This is far too early. I don’t want to get her hopes up in case I’m not successful in convincing my wife to give me another shot. That’ll only break her heart all over again.

Thinking back, I realised that this is the first time we have a proper chat about our split. I fled to LA the next morning after my wife asked me to leave our marital home back in London, leaving her to sit down with our children to tell them that I was not going to live there anymore. I was shocked and angry because I had no idea what I’d done. I thought we were fine. There were no fights leading up to that. I still remember exactly what I told her. ‘You’re the one who wanted to end it, you tell them.’ And then I left.

Just like that. Without a fight.

I swear to God, it’s something that I would never be able to forgive myself. 

“How’s your mum?” 

“She’s sad,” Minnie sighs. “She cries a lot. She thinks we can’t hear her in the shower, but we can.”

Knowing I caused that physically hurts. I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone and I think about all those private tears I shed through it. The ones you hope are hidden and silent.

“Can I ask you something, daddy?”

“Anything, poppet.”

“Do you still get sad too?”

I’m not sure how much to divulge here. Does my daughter need to hear that I stopped eating? That I once cried in the loo at Cafe Habana, and once had to be fished out of a bath by Jeff after I turned into a human prune? I was sad. I still wear that hat. 

“I do. It’s the end of something, that’s always sad.”

“I think mum is dating someone,” she says and my eyes widen. “She told us Luke is her friend, but I think he’s her boyfriend. They’re on a date now, aren’t they?”

I can try and deny it, but I know my daughter is smart and won’t buy anything I tell her.

“What do you know about boyfriends?” I tease, my attempt to lighten up the mood. 

“I’ve just turned nine, I’m not stupid,” Minnie rolls her eyes. “‘Sides I’m thinking about getting one of those boyfriend thingies.”

I sit there slack-jawed, and my daughter roars with laughter.

“Minnie Alexandra, you’re going to drive me to an early grave, you know that?”

“Hey, what are you middle naming me for? I was joking!” She says, still laughing as she picks a piece of pepperoni off her pizza.

“How do you feel about your mum dating again?” I ask her.

She pauses. “I don’t know yet. As long as he’s nice and doesn’t put me under the stairs…”

“I’m sure he won’t. In the attic maybe,” I joke.

She laughs again. I’m thinking about keeping that bloke in the attic so my wife won’t date him anymore. Or even better, six feet under my patio. That’ll do.

“It’s gonna be okay, right, dad?”

Honestly, I’m not sure. But I don’t have the heart to tell her that.

“Yeah, Min. It’s gonna be okay.”

***

I see the headlight shining into the front windows as I walk down the stairs from tucking my daughter into her bed. That must be Emma and her date. I pull back the curtain a little to peek outside, and I’m right as I see that bollockface’s car in front of the house. 

You know that saying; curiosity killed the cat? Well, in my case, curiosity fucked me with a chainsaw. 

I’m a bloody idiot. I should have just closed the curtain back as soon as I recognised the car. I mean… it’s the end of a date. What did I expect to see? A high five? I knew I was so sure when they left that he would not be getting anything more than a friendly kiss, but that date must have gone really well, because right now, my eyes may as well fall out of their sockets as I see that bastard’s tongue down my wife’s throat. 

I’m frozen. I’m gripping the curtain so tight that my knuckles are turning white. I stand there—stunned. Watching. I’m not even sure for how long. It does feel like forever. Like an eternity. 

In hell.

And then Emma pulls back, and everything seems like a blur. I have to remind myself that my daughter is sleeping upstairs so I won’t go apeshit and knock that wanker square on his arse. 

I’m still glued to the floor by the door. I’m too shocked to move. I hear the sound of keys rattling before the door swings open, and she looks surprised when she sees me.

And all hell breaks loose.

“What the fuck, Emma?!” She jolts at hearing me shout. I rarely did it. In fact, I’m not even sure if I’d ever yell at my wife before throughout our marriage. “You told me last night you’d never even kissed him. You told me you weren’t ready.”

“I- I don’t know. He caught me off guard. That was-”

“I told you I wanted to make this work,” I remind her, trying to lower my voice so I won’t wake my daughter up. She doesn’t need to see this. “Us. Our marriage. I told you I wanted to fight for you. But I can’t do that with someone shoving their tongue down my wife’s throat, can I?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see her tear up and I immediately feel regret. That was harsh. But before I can apologise, I can see her lip curls up and I know she’s about to get nasty. It’s a rarity with her when we’ve fought in the past, but I feel it coming.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” She sneers. “You think that if you put a toy down, it’ll still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.”

“That’s-”

“You have no right to be upset at me. We’ve split up for nearly a year now. What I do and what I don’t do on my dates is none of your business.” 

“I want us to give our marriage another shot,” I say in exasperation. “I want to try to win you back, but fuck’s sake you’re not even giving me the time of day.”

“Oh, look how the tables turned,” she taunts. “Sucks, innit? Being the one struggling to find the time when it seems like the other doesn’t give a crap?”

“Cheap shot, Ems,” I retort.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, H?” 

Emma averts her eyes, her lower lip quivering. I can’t tell if she regrets her harsh words or not, but she doesn’t look back my way, and she seems to have said her piece.

I knew sooner or later this was bound to happen. We never had our big fight, not even that night when she decided that enough was enough.

“I cannot possibly go through that again. It physically hurts,” she says softly. “I know I was the one who ended it, but when you just left like that the next morning without so much of a fight as if ten years means nothing to you… that really did hurt. You left me alone to talk to the kids about what happened. And sure, you did call every day. But it took you nearly nine months to finally come and see your children?”

“I needed some time. Some space,” I tell her. “Do you think it’s easy for me being there? Away from my wife and kids?”

“You chose to be there.”

“You know I couldn’t stay in London,” I murmur. “It’s too hard. At least in LA sometimes I can just pretend that everything’s okay. That we’re okay. That my wife and kids will be there waiting for me when I get home. I can’t do that in London.”

“That’s a shit excuse and you know it,” she mutters.

“I still love you, Em,” I say with a sigh. I know trying to defend myself further for what I did will get me nowhere. “We can fix this. We can be a family again.”

“Harry, it’s too late.”

“Is it him?” I can’t help but go there, because that’s a possibility. “Do you love him already?”

“Luke is a fresh start for me, H. I may not love him now but at least it doesn’t hurt looking at him. It took me months to be able to get back up again, to get to where I am right now. To finally find a little bit of peace.”

Emma’s head hangs low, and she rubs at her temple with her fingers. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms. But by how stiff her spine is, I can tell she wouldn’t come willingly. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” I whisper, resigned. Tears well up in our eyes. There’s nothing I can say that will change her mind because we’re not seeing eye to eye. She’s still focused on the past, not that I blame her because I did hurt her badly, but I know that there is no way we can go anywhere if she can’t see past the harms I’ve caused in the past.  “I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” she says, her expression softens. Her thumb runs at a part of her finger where a ring used to be. “Now, I just want us to try and make this separation work. Focus on the kids. Let’s do the right thing by them.”

I nod.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“When did it all start?” I ask, my voice cracks a little. “When did you start feeling like you’re invisible to me?”

“I’m not sure I can point down to one exact moment,” she takes a shaky breath and pauses. “The change was gradual that by the time I realised it, I didn’t even recognise us anymore. I spent days and nights wondering what happened to us. That wasn’t us.”

I wipe that one tear running halfway down her cheek, and as soon as my thumb touches her skin, I lose it. I can’t help it by this point. Tears flow as much as I try to hold them back. She’s crying too. This is painful. 

“And it’d be too easy to say that I felt invisible,” she continues. “Because the truth is, I felt painfully visible. You ignored me on purpose. I wasn’t even sure what I was to you anymore, because the only chance for me to get your attention was by getting you in bed. And that was wrong. It hurts, because it felt like you only needed me to warm your bed.”

I want to deny that statement. I want to yell it’s not true. That I never intended to take her for granted. That she still makes my heart skip a beat like a bloody teenager seeing his first crush. 

But I don’t.

Because she’s right. I’m not sure what happened either, but we’d changed. Maybe it’s our jobs, maybe it’s the endless responsibilities. Domesticity, children, they wore us down. Kisses became perfunctory. Hugs became less frequent. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I took my wife for a date night other than for social obligations.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her again. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising to her if I have to, she deserves it. “I hurt you badly. I really am sorry, Emma.”

“It wasn’t all you though,” she mumbles. “I never called you out on it.”

“You didn’t,” I reply. “I never worked out why?”

“I swept it under the carpet because it was embarrassing. It felt silly having to ask for your attention. And I don’t know… pride, maybe? And the kids. I didn’t want them to know something was wrong. So I played along and carried on like nothing was happening.”

“When really…”

“It was like a punch to the guts each time. You were an excellent father. You still are, the kids adore you. This may sound insane and it’s embarrassing and painful for me to admit this, but there were times when I saw you with the kids and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. When you couldn’t even be bothered to look at me… it felt like you took a dump over all my love for you.”

“Emma…”

“I wish I could get past that. I wish I could just forget what happened and trust you again.” 

I bring her in for a hug and say nothing. She needs to get this all out. This is part of the process, and I’m here to listen. 

But where do we go from there?

Reconciling a broken marriage is tricky. I am not a violent person but I have never wanted to strangle people as much as I want to strangle those who wrote articles with countless advice regarding this subject, making it seem like it’s easy. Talk it out, get your point across, and you’re out of the dog house. Well, you know what, bollockface? It turns out that listening is not enough. Sod you and your dumb articles. 

All I know is that I can’t rush this. She’s not ready, and that’s okay. Right now, we both have things to work on. She needs to learn to let go of her resentment, and I have to learn not to take anything and anyone for granted ever again. This is killing me, but there is no one to blame but myself. I take solace in knowing the fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Maybe one day we’ll be back together. Maybe we won’t. 

“Thank you for telling me all that,” I mumble against her hair. 

“Thank you for listening,” she looks up and gives me a sad smile.

***

Emma comes from a big family. 

There’s Jamie, her eldest brother and the only guy. I think the fact that he grew up surrounded by sisters was what made us the closest in the first place. He hates wine, even though he makes a career out of managing his own vineyard. I know, the irony. The next is Suze, sister number one who lives in Sheffield with her husband and three girls. Suze and her husband are both orthopaedic surgeons. Then my wife, the middle child. Then Meg, sister number two who just had a baby. It’s another girl so my George is still the only grandson in the family. And then Lucy, the youngest of the clan who’s still in university. 

They all live nearby, and I knew that all my in-laws hated me a tiny bit for taking their daughter and sister away. They were a hard outfit to infiltrate. You don’t enter into a relationship with one of them, you get a whole gaggle of them. It was hard to get in, but once you’re in, you’re in for life. 

After we’d split, I called my parents-in-law the next morning just before my flight to LA. I wasn’t sure whether or not Emma had told them about what happened, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. After all, they’d become my parents too for a decade. So I explained and apologised. Of course, I didn’t tell them the details because I knew they were between Emma and me, and they respected us enough not to ask. They were upset, but they also understood that these things happen in life. All they wanted was just for their grandbabies to come out of this unscathed. 

Now here I am, walking behind Emma and our children as we step over the threshold into her parents’ home for their monthly roast. Her parents invited me and I accepted. I don’t want to turn down any extra time I have with my kids as I’ve decided to leave today and head back to London. I was prepared to stay longer, take some time off work and fight for my marriage, but since it all has gone to pot, I figured I should leave. The world doesn’t stop even when you’re struggling with marital woes. I’ve got work to do, and I also know that it is best to give Emma space. 

I hear voices as we walk inside.

“If littl’uns are going in highchairs then what’s that extra space for?” I hear Meg’s husband say.

Meg tells him. “Count again, addition was never your strong point.”

“Oh.”

The house is suddenly quiet when they see me. This is my first time seeing the whole family again after we split, and even though my parents-in-law and I are on good terms, and Jamie too, I know the sisters would be a different story. All four of them are beyond close and they’re now looking at me as if they should’ve chucked me in the oven instead of the chicken.

You don’t do that to our sister. You hurt one, you hurt all of us. 

“Uncle Harry!” Freya shouts in excitement. She is one of Suze’s daughters. She and her twin sister Tessa are only a few months older than my George.

Suze, who is sitting on the sofa, looks a bit sullen, not knowing what the right call is to make. Meg and her husband freeze. 

“Alright there, mate?” Jamie greets me, trying to ease the tension. Suze glares at him.

“Are you here to do magic then, Uncle Harry?” Tessa asks. 

I bend down to her level. “Not sure I know any magic, Tessie.”

“Yeah you do!” Freya pipes up. “Because when we were driving here, daddy said you did a disappearing act on Aunty Ems. Show us what you did!”

“FREYA!” Her dad barks.

Meg can barely contain her giggles.

“But we like magic. You’re rubbish at magic,” she says to her dad. He widens his eyes. 

The sisters are now all smiling smugly, knowing a couple of six-year-olds just shamed me on their behalf. Extra roast potatoes for those two.

Lucy, the littlest sister, suddenly enters. That’s definitely not a happy face. “Oh, it’s you. Is that why everyone went so quiet? What are you doing here?”

“Luce,” Emma mutters.

“Because I invited him,” says a voice emerging from the kitchen. My father-in-law. “Harry, glad you could make it.”

“Of course,” I reply. “Thanks for the invitation.”

Lucy stares daggers at her dad, knowing she can’t unleash her trademark rapier wit as she’s surrounded by her little nieces and nephews. That one may be the youngest but she’s the scariest out of all the sisters, my wife included.

“Look, if it’s weird, I can just leave?” I offer.

“Nonsense, you must stay for supper,” Emma’s mum replies.

“Yeah, Harry, stay,” says Emma’s dad, staring at his daughters. “I want you lot to be nice. Otherwise, I’m putting you on the kids table. You hear me?”

The three of them nod in unison. 

“You two look well,” I say, my attempt to make small talk. 

“You know, dad’s been singing this morning,” Emma’s mum chirps, tilting her head towards her husband. “He joined a male choir. They think they’re Westlife.”

We all can’t help but laugh. This is classic mum. The tension seems to ease away. 

Let’s just hope it stays that way.

***

There’s a strange feeling of déjà vu as I take a seat on the steps in front of the cottage. 

I’m all packed up and ready to go. My weekender bag is in the boot of my car. Nothing left to do but say goodbye to my wife and kids, but I don’t go straight inside. 

Not yet. I need a moment.

These steps witnessed a lot of our marriage even though we’d never stayed here for longer than a couple of weeks at a time. We loved to sit out here in the summer. I remember when I first brought my stuff here shortly after we got married, we sat out here with beers, sleeves rolled up, boxes stacked into Jenga-style columns. 

I also remember sitting here last year on Christmas morning. Emma and I were both in our pyjamas and slippers, sipping coffees out of our matching Christmas mugs. We watched the kids ride their new scooters up and down the street. Everything was perfect. I had no idea that my marriage would end in just two months after that.

“Harry?”

I look over my shoulder and I urge her to sit beside me. She comes over and does just that. There is silence. We don’t say a word to each other. A quiet hum of traffic in the distance, puffs of breath cloud the air making me think we should both be wearing coats. Christmas is nearly here again. My heart aches at the thought of this being our first Christmas since everything fell apart.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“I should be the one apologising, Em.”

“I know you wanted to work things out,” I hear the sadness in her voice. “I really loved you, you know that, right?”

“I do,” I nod. “Our marriage, all those years… it wasn’t all bad, though, right?”

“Of course,” she quickly replies. “We had our moments. We have Minnie and George.”

We pause, letting that sink in. In all this mess, those two were and remain everything, some symbol of our marriage not being a complete disaster. 

“There were also times when you were a good husband,” she adds.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to pat me on the head?”

Emma laughs under her breath.

“Your new bloke seemed a nice sort,” I tell her, because it’s true. I may hate the guy with a burning passion, but that’s only because he’s dating my wife. 

“He is.”

“That got legs?” I ask her.

“Possibly.”

“I want you to be happy, Ems,” I tell her. “With or without me.”

“Harry…”

“But I also want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you. No rush, no timeline. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Because for me, it’s either you or no one else.”

The front door opens and two little faces pop out from behind it.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” Shouts Minnie.

“Well then come here and give me cuddles to warm me up,” I tell her.

Emma and I take a kid each. She takes George and lets him entangle his legs in hers, cradling himself into the hook of his mummy’s arm. Minnie uses me like a climbing frame. I bop her on the nose as I’ve done since she was a baby, and I like that it never stops being hilarious to her. The sky starts to dim, trees casting shadows onto the pavement. A house down the road has some festive lights that switch on and flicker on and off in strange syncopated patterns.

“This is nice,” Minnie mumbles. “I miss the awesome foursome.”

“The awesome foursome, huh?” I ask.

“That’s what you used to call us,” I hear the sadness in her voice and my heart aches. I know she feels this all a lot more than her little brother. “I still remember.”

“Do you really have to go again, daddy?” George looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes. 

“Yeah, do you?” Minnie asks. “I love having you here.”

“I do, my loves,” I reply sadly. “Be good for mummy, alright? I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I don’t like seeing you go,” George mumbles.

The emotion is a little unbearable and I see a tear trail down my wife’s cheek. George looks petrified seeing his mum cry. 

“Don’t be sad, mummy.”

“I’m not sad,” she shakes her head, quickly wiping the tear off her cheek. “I’m just sorry daddy and I couldn’t make it work.”

“Did we do something wrong?” George asks, looking at his mum and then me.

“Oh, mate,” I reach out to cup his face, Emma pulls him into a hug. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You two are perfect, you hear me?”

“Do you still love each other?” Minnie asks.

Emma looks at me in the eye as she answers our daughter. “I’ll always love your dad, because he gave me both of you.”

“And I’ll always love your mum,” I say, my eyes pinned on my wife. “No matter what.”

Emma

“So… tell me, he a good lay? He looks the sort to have some girth.”

I probably should have warned you beforehand about this sister of mine.

Lucy is my entertainer sister who has done every job going alongside studying. She went to dance school, spent six months on a cruise ship, has been an extra and once did a two-month stint in Les Misérables. On weekends she dresses up as Disney characters and does kids’ parties which means she owns a lot of wigs and always has glitter in her bra. She’s the fun one. I keep her close because as much as I love my other siblings, this one has been a good entertainment through my separation. Mum suggested for her to live with me for a couple of weeks when I first moved back to the Peak, and I’m so glad she did. It was around the time I lost a stone and would spend most of the time napping, crying and staring at the wall, surviving on cups of tea and Rich Tea fingers. She couldn’t cook or clean and she used all my shampoo but she brought some light into the house when grey clouds threatened to consume it. She was also a great distraction because I could live vicariously through her tales of going to gigs and clubs and hear how she’s not slept and got her boobs out for reasons of fun and frivolity.

However, when you talk to her, she always goes there. She’s brash and has no conversational limit. She thinks her purpose is to not only feed me but also revive a pretty dead sex life too. Actually, it’s not just her. After my husband and I split, my sisters think it’s their job to pique my interest in men again. Luke happened after a boozy Chinese takeaway about two months ago when I joked that a spring roll was the most phallic thing I’d had in my mouth for over half a year. I remember a dumpling rolled out of Meg’s mouth in shock, so Suze decided to play the matchmaker and introduced me to Luke who worked at the same hospital with her.

Tonight, we’re having another takeaway night since my parents have all the grandchildren for the weekend. Bless them for entertaining that crew of children we seem to have acquired over the past nine years. We have seven between Suze, myself and Meg, and I just hope that my parents are well stocked with wine. They will need it. 

We all sit around my dining room table with the remnants of a KFC bargain bucket, a selection of Thai food, a giant bag of chips and some battered sausages. I’d admit that we were already a little drunk to buy food sanely. Luke is also here, I thought it’d be nice to give my sisters the chance to get to know him. And it doesn’t take Lucy more than thirty seconds after Luke gets up to take a phone call before asking such questions. 

“I don’t know? I haven’t slept with him yet.”

Lucy looks at me in confusion. “But you’ve been on dates and stuff?”

“We did have a cheeky snog last week but we’re taking it slow.”

“What are you waiting for? Just go shag him. Erase the memory of that wanker?” 

“Hey, he’s your niece and nephew’s father,” I chastise her for calling Harry names. “Don’t call him that.”

“Why don’t you want to sleep with Luke?” Meg, my other sister asks me. “Lucy is right though. He’s really tall, I bet he’s VWE.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Very well-endowed.”

I chuckle. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Meg giggles and places her head on my shoulder. 

“Last time I had sex was on Valentine’s Day, girls. Do your maths. The next day, my marriage collapsed.”

Both of them huddle into me like penguins. 

“Which is why you just need to get over yourself,” Lucy remarks. “You need to remember what sex is like. It’ll be fun and make you feel good. If you don’t want to do it with Luke, you can have some taster session? I’ve got a uni mate who’d shag you.”

“Lovely. No.”

Lucy huffs. “You’re so boring.”

“Honestly, Em, Luke is fit. Seems like a nice fella, and he genuinely likes you. I’d have a go on him if I weren’t married. You should just do it,” says Meg.

“Yeah, you could shag him tonight,” Lucy adds. “Meg and I can piss off out and then…” 

Then she does a strange rave-style dance as she thinks of her plan coming together. Luke returns from his phone call and Lucy jiggles in her seat. Don’t you bloody dare. 

“Luke, we need more wine,” says Lucy. “There is not enough and we thought you could walk down to the shop and get some?”

Meg and I look at each other for a second, wondering what our sister is up to. 

“Sure, yeah, I could get wine,” Luke replies. “Any other requests?”

If she tells him to get condoms in then I will skewer her with a chopstick.

“Anything you might fancy or need?”

She’s walking an incredibly thin, thin line. 

Luke gets up to retrieve his coat and grazes my hand as he does. This move doesn’t go unnoticed by Meg and she gives me a sly wink. I hand him my keys and he heads for the front door. Meg stares Lucy out.

“Seriously?” She says.

“We need to prepare you if you’re going to sleep with him.”

“Like mentally?” I ask.

“Like have you had a tidy? This will be your first time. You’ll need to at least tidy up the flaps and do a bit of topiary.”

“LUCY!” I gasp and laugh at the same time, holding my hand to my face. Who is this woman? How can you raise five children in the same house and come up with such a random entity?

She stands up and heads for my kitchen drawers, rifling around until she pulls out a pair of scissors.

“Show me your bush,” she orders.

“Lucy! I prepare food with those scissors.”

“And we’ll wash them?”

Meg is in hysterics as she sees this scene unfolding in front of us.

“I’m not getting my bush out in my kitchen.”

“You’re so dull,” Lucy complains. “I’m trying to help here. What are your pits like? Shame there’s no time to tackle your upper lip.”

I put my hand over it instinctively. “I’ve got a moustache?”

“Well, you’re not Tom Selleck but it could do with a bleach.”

“You’re being cruel now, Luce,” Meg giggles. “But I think we do need the comedy of seeing Lucy trimming your bush in the kitchen.”

I stand up reluctantly and unbutton my jeans.

“Ha!” Exclaims Lucy. “You’re wearing nice knickers, you knew this was going to happen. Just peel them back a little and let me have a look.”

“Be quick for fuck’s sake. This is something that no one needs to see.”

“Do you want a shape?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like a heart? It’d be cute.”

“No!”

Meg roars with laughter.

“I’ll just trim the length then,” says Lucy. “Meg, put your hand out.”

“Do I have to?”

“Don’t you love your sister enough to at least hold her pubes?”

I’m not even sure what’s happening here. One sister is very close to my private regions with a sharp object and I hear the creak of metal as she shears away. The other collects the trimmings in a napkin in her palm. This feels like an opportune moment to ring Suze, our other sister, and start a FaceTime chat. That time we all took one for the team so Emma could reclaim her sex life.

“Thanks, Luce.”

“You don’t say this enough I feel.”

“We really don’t,” says Meg.

“Want me to look at yours, Meg?”

“I’m good.”

“What if he’s into weird stuff?” I ask.

“Like?”

“I don’t know… maybe like choking? Stuff like that.”

“Well, no one breaks out all the moves on their first time,” says Meg but Lucy gives us a look like she begs to differ.

“And I’m not on anything. I stopped the pills months ago. What if I get pregnant?”

“That’s what condoms are for?” 

They both give me a look that says I am not fourteen and that I should have an inkling about how reproduction works and the preventative measures that I can put in place to stop myself from getting pregnant. 

“How do I initiate it?”

“Maybe you could dance for him?” says Luce mockingly. “You’ve both had a drink, let it just happen. Planned sex is the worst kind of sex.”

“I planned nothing. You’re the one who’s got the kitchen scissors.”

“I’m done, anyway. Not my finest work but then at least he’ll be able to find it?”

Meg laughs again as she goes to the bin with her napkin of pubes. I do my jeans up and sit at the table, downing what’s left in my glass. What if he can’t get it up? Or worse, what if he doesn’t like my boobs? I have modest boobs. They wouldn’t win any competitions. What if he wants better boobs?

“You’re overthinking,” says Meg.

“I haven’t got any condoms.”

Lucy reaches inside her handbag, pulls out two packets of johnnies and hands them to me. How far ahead has she planned this?

“Any other excuse?” Lucy asks.

“Look, tonight, just get naked with the fella, have some bloody fun. Enjoy yourself.”

I hear the key go in the latch of the front door. That was quick. Crap. Luke enters the kitchen with two bottles of red that I immediately feel guilty about as I’ve got a rack of it in the utility room. He also carries a few packs of crisps and takes the kitchen scissors that were on my table.

“No!” I stop him. “Those need to be washed.”

He looks at me in confusion and I love that he puts them in the sink without any further questions asked. He rips opens the packet of crisps with his hands instead.

“Crisps?”

Lucy grabs a handful of crisps before she grabs her phone, pretending to read some texts. “Bollocks! Meg, we forgot about the party.”

Meg quickly plays along. “Oh yeah, crap. It’s that birthday party, innit?”

I feel awful. I’m sending the sisters back out into the cold so Luke and I can have the house to ourselves. They both keep winking at me which is more down to the fact that they’ve had at least a bottle of wine each for themselves tonight. Luke stands at the kitchen door while I wave everyone off. This feels weird. 

“Have fun, kids!” Chants Lucy as she shepherds Meg away from the house. I shut the door.

And then there were two. I turn around and Luke is no longer at the doorway. I tiptoe into the kitchen to find him stacking plates. 

“Shall we tidy up now?” He asks.

“It can wait.”

My phone on the table lights up with an incoming text. It’s Lucy. Don’t forget to adjust your tits. Make sure they’re facing forwards. Show a bit of bra. 

Does this mean my boobs are not always facing forward? Where are they looking? This isn’t helping at all. I ignore it.

“Alright,” Luke says with a smile that makes me feel relaxed but also on the faint side of nauseated. It’s probably first time nerves. Is it weird that I’m thinking about the cleanliness of my bedroom? Did I pick up yesterday’s bra from the corner of my room? Do I remember how to go down on a man? What if he doesn’t fancy me?

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder whether my marriage ended with Harry because I was terrible in bed. Maybe I wasn’t attractive enough. I’ve had kids, parts of me are stretched and doughy. Maybe I didn’t provide what he needed. 

In the last year of our marriage, I think it’s safe to say that I was mainly the one to initiate things between us and my success rate wasn’t 100%. There’s this nagging thought in my head that maybe even on those nights I succeeded, those were just pity shags.

You know what, sod it. 

I grab him by the collar and kiss him. He stumbles a little but then lets his body fold into mine. I can do this. Crap. He’s lifting me up. He sits me on the counter and I’d like to say the moment overtakes but there’s red wine inches from my arse so I move the glass with my hand whilst still kissing him. We’re kissing. This is weird. It’s different. It’s not my husband’s lips. Why am I thinking about my husband’s lips? 

I shake my head, banishing that image. Harry doesn’t belong in this room with me right now. 

I feel his hands in the small of my back and then he lifts my jumper over my head. I’m in my bra. Don’t overthink it. Oh, the bra is off. My nipples are out in the kitchen. I run my fingers through his hair as he trails kisses down my neck. Is it weird that right now, at this very moment, all I can think about is that his blond, floppy hair looks like a golden retriever?

I gasp and push him away involuntarily when his mouth wraps on my nipple. This is wrong. This feels wrong. I thought it was just first time jitters but now I think this is deeper than that. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, looking concerned.

I grab my jumper and quickly put it back on. “I… I’m sorry, Luke. I can’t. I have to go.”

“Emma, I’m sorry,” his face reads panic. “Did I read the signals wrong? I thought you wanted this. I feel terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologise,” I say hastily. “You didn’t. I did want this. Or so I thought. It’s just… I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll be ready any time soon. Or ever.”

“What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

I have to be straight with him. I take a deep breath. “I want to give you the opportunity to walk away. You’re a good guy, Luke. I just don’t think it’s fair for me to string you along if we can never progress.”

“Is it your ex-husband?”

He’s still my husband. But I don’t say this out loud. 

“He told me that he wanted to give our marriage another shot about two weeks ago when he was here,” I tell him. “I did say no right away. I didn’t think it was a good idea. But…”

“Is it really?” He asks. “You two have a lot of history. Two kids. Why wouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“I’m worried.”

“And what are you worried about?”

“My heart?” I say quietly. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

Luke smiles at me through sympathetic eyes. “Listen to me, Emma. I’m not a cardiologist, but I know that the hearts are the strongest organs in the human body. They can go through anything.”

What happens next feels like a blur. All I know is that by midnight, I’m already halfway down the M1, on my way to London. 

Harry

It was a knock on the door that woke me up.

When I first open my eyes, I’m disoriented. I don’t know what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep. Then I realise I’m on the sofa, and it’s still dark outside. It’s also raining. I walk towards the door and open it, just in time to catch a figure going down the steps, which doesn’t take me more than a second to recognise. I am in complete shock. Is this real? Is that really my wife, standing in front of my door in the middle of the night? Or are my eyes deceiving me?

“Emma?”

She stops on the pavement and slowly turns to face me. She’s spooked through—her jeans moulded to the curves of her legs, the sleeves of her jumper dripping, her hair flat, lips slightly tinged with blue.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she says. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

I open the door wider, and my voice is drowsy and deep when I say, “Come on, let’s talk inside.”

She takes a step back instead.

“I just… I wasn’t thinking. I’m here. I don’t know why,” she sounds genuinely bewildered—even a little panicked.

“Are the kids in the car?” I ask her and she shakes her head. The wind blows, spraying ice-cold drops across my bare skin where my shirt hangs open. “You’re shivering, honey, come inside.” 

She stares at me, so many emotions swirling in her expression. She’s like a skittish kitten who can’t decide if she should let the stranger pat her head or haul up the nearest tree. It breaks my heart.

“I don’t think I can.”

So I go to her. 

The rain is cold and hard, soaking my shirt. Her eyes dart from the pavement, to my chest, up to my eyes and back again, like she’s ready to bolt—but her feet stay glued.

I lean in so she can hear me through the rain. “Do you remember the first time we went to Paris together? When we were young and crazy enough to only rent one electric scooter for both of us, and we rode around the city at night?”

The corners of her mouth tug up a little. “I remember.”

“But then I was going way too fast and we hit a rock, and both of us went flying. I didn’t want to ride anymore the next day, because I was afraid you’d get hurt. Do you remember what you told me?”

“I said…” she begins, her eyes meet mine. “I said we had to keep riding. Because it’s the only thing that made falling worth it.”

I nod tenderly and hold out my hand. “I’m not going to let us fall this time, Emma.”

Her eyes are back on the pavement. “I’m not sure-”

I know she still doesn’t trust me. I know that sadness on her face and how it penetrates so deeply. I know she’s probably better off without me, the bastard who crushed her heart and soul and took her for granted for years. 

We shy away from the things that hurt us. But that’s what scars are for. They protect the wounds. They cover them with thick, numb tissue so we’ll never have to feel that same pain again. The scars that my wife has inside? They’re tough. 

I beg when she continues to stare at my hand, “Please, just come inside.”

Slowly, tentatively, her hand slides into mine. 

And we go in out of the rain.

I take her upstairs to the bedroom that used to be ours. Her teeth chatter as she sits on the edge of the bed. I throw a blanket over her shoulders, rubbing her arms, sliding down to cup her hands. 

“Shit, you’re freezing. How long were you out there?”

“A while. I was walking… thinking.”

“Just some friendly advice. Next time you go a-wandering, stop and buy an umbrella.”

Emma shivers as she laughs. I pull the blanket closer around her and rub her back. 

“So… you gonna tell me what’s this midnight adventure about?” 

Her voice comes out soft and wavering in the dark room. “I was with Luke.”

“Did he do something to you? I’ve watched enough crime documentaries to pull a perfect murder.”

She shakes her head and chuckles. “We were having a takeaway night. Meg and Lucy were there too, but then they left and there were just the two of us and-”

“Please spare me the details,” I beg.

“Nothing happened. I just… I couldn’t get through it. Your face kept popping out in my head and I knew that if I went all the way through, we’d lose our chance. And I didn’t want us to lose our chance. I know this is completely the opposite of what I said to you two weeks ago but it’s true. I wasn’t ready then and maybe I’m still not ready now, but I don’t know about the future and you said you’d wait for me and…”

Her words trail off and my chest clenches with that sublime mix of excitement and trepidation. Of wanting something so much it’s like every cell in your body is stretching, reaching for it, yet there’s a grey shadow of worry that you might never get to touch it.

“Oh, Ems…”

I cup my hands around hers and blow into them. Another shiver vibrates through her. 

For a moment we sit there in silence. Memories of us in this bed come flooding back. Of the kids piling in here bright and early, and us having cuddles and catch ups over the week just gone. Of the two of us and that sacred half an hour we had together before we go to sleep. Where we could have a proper chat without little voices interrupting us every few seconds. Sometimes we’d read together too, and other times when we just couldn’t be arsed, we’d simply spend that half an hour scrolling through memes and having a laugh together.

“You’ve got to get out of these wet clothes,” I say gently, with absolutely no teasing suggestion. We’re right on the precipice. I can feel it. And I have to tread so carefully, because one wrong move could send her away, truly lost to me.

I peel my soaked shirt off and let it drop to the floor. Her eyes move, trailing over my shoulders. I stand and slowly unbutton my jeans, leaving me in black boxer briefs. 

Her eyes follow my every move, looking at me.

I push the blanket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I grasp her jumper at the bottom and lift slowly. I wait for her to push me away but she doesn’t. She raises her arms instead. I pull the jumper over her head and it lands with a plop on the floor. I remind myself not to enjoy the view. I’m trying hard not to look.

My chest rises and falls as rapidly as hers. I sink to my knees in front of her and reach out for the button of her jeans. She lifts her hips and my fingertips graze her skin as I slide them down her thighs, leaving the white lace knickers in place. 

“Get under the sheets,” I whisper and she does just that.

She scoots to her side of the bed, and I slide beside her. Without a word, she snuggles into my side. The cool feel of her flesh is a shock at first, but in just a few moments, my heat chases away her chill. Except for her feet. I practically jump when she runs one up my calf.

“Yer a bloody ice cube!”

She laughs kind of evilly. 

We face each other, almost nose to nose. Her hair still drips at the ends and a drop trickles over her collarbone, down her chest, and I’ve got to take a deep breath—because I want to lick it off her so badly.

“Talk to me,” she says softly.

“I’m taking time off work.”

“But you never take time off work?” 

“I’ve got a lot to make up to the kids,” I tell her. “So I told Jeff to bugger off for at least until after New Year.”

I see her smile in the dim light.

“I’m gonna stay up with my mum,” I add. “I’ll only be an hour away from you lot.”

This is something that I’ve been mulling about. If I really do want a chance with Emma, I need to move up there because absence does not make the heart grow fonder. That may be true in secondary school when you went away for the summer. But in marriage, especially in a broken marriage, absence separates people. It creates distance. That’s the opposite of what you’re trying to achieve. You want the closeness back.

My wife’s palm runs over my bicep—tentatively at first—then with a surer touch. “They’d love that.”

“Also, you remember my old mate Stu?” She nods. “We got in touch just earlier today. He’s got a litter of puppies and he offered one for us. I told him I need to talk to you first. So what do you think?”

“A puppy, huh?”

“A puppy.” 

“I think that’s a good idea,” she says. “But I’ve never had a dog though.”

“I can train it first at my mum’s?” I offer. “I’ll get it all settled. Then when it starts sleeping through the night, I’ll bring it over.”

“Does it make me a terrible mum for wishing we had that kind of service when the kids were newborns?” 

“We had that service. It’s called sending them to the grandparents.”

We both laugh, and when the laughter dies down, we’re silent for a few minutes. The thrum of my heartbeat jacks up as her hand continues to stroke my arm. 

“Harry?” Her voice is the barest whisper, like she’s checking to see if I’m asleep. 

“Hmm?”

“I… I’ve missed you. So much.”

And I’m done.

The need to kiss her, to touch her, has been pulling at me like a raging current ever since I saw her on the front step, and with those few words, I let the current take me. 

***

Numerous studies have shown that having sex extends the human life span. At this rate, Emma and I are going to live forever. We probably slept twenty minutes max throughout the night and I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve done it. I’m pretty sure the last time we did something like that was ten years ago on our honeymoon. 

We’re sitting at the breakfast nook. Her hair mussy and she’s wearing one of my T-shirts. She looks freshly fucked, which I know to be true, and I reckon she’d be ready to crawl back into bed with me if I just crook my finger. But I don’t do that. Because this, us, sitting here in the morning sunlight, playing footsies under the table while we talk over coffee is all I’ve been dreaming about every morning.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks when she catches me looking.

“You,” I smile. “You look perfect.”

“No, no more,” she shakes her head frantically. “I won’t be able to walk.”

“You dirty lass, I was trying to be romantic and all that,” I can’t help but snort in laughter. “And you always do that… rebuff any type of compliment I try to give you.”

It’s true. If I tell her she looks beautiful, she waves a dismissive hand at me. If I compliment her mind, she blushes. Even an appreciative look from me has her turning shy like a schoolgirl.

When she doesn’t respond to me, I continue to poke at her. “Why is that? Why does it embarrass you when I tell you that you’re smokin’ hot?”

She wrinkles her nose at me. “Because it’s weird. I feel like you just have to say that.” 

She pretends to go through one of her old magazines from when she still lived here. I reach across the table and bat at it, causing one side to pull out of her hands and reveal her entire face to me. Now she’s glaring. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

And I grin when I see red stain her cheeks.

“And you’ve got the most gorgeous body. I take one look at you naked and I can’t help but get rock hard.”

“Stop it,” she blusters, now blushing all the way down her neck.

I change tactics, but I know this will embarrass her just as much. “You are the most amazing woman. Kindest, genuine and grounded. Funniest too. And you’re the best mother for our babies.”

“Okay,” she snaps at me as she closes the magazine and slams it down onto the table. “You’ve made your point.”

Chuckling, I stretch back in my chair and nudge her foot with mine under the table. “You’re adorable.”

She rolls her eyes, which I find to be beyond adorable. 

Standing up from my chair, I walk around the table and hold my hand out to her. She willingly takes it and stands when I give her a tug. It’s a natural move for her, to walk straight into my embrace and press herself against me. I tilt my head and kiss her on her jaw. “It’s something you need to get used to… compliments from me. It’s never going to stop.”

She moans softly in my ear.

“Want to know what else you’re going to have to get used to?” I whisper as I kiss my way down her neck.

Her fingers come up, tangle in my hair, and fist tightly. “What’s that?”

“My face between your legs.”

***

Some people might not put Quaglino’s into the romantic restaurant bracket, but they’d be wrong, very wrong. In actual fact, it’s quite hard to top. The interior has this 1930’s romance charm with candlelit tables, dark-panelled walls and an adjoining room for dancing to the soft tunes of the piano man singing bluesy versions of classic songs. 

Tonight, I managed to convince Emma to go out to dinner with me before she goes back to our babies. I insist on driving her since I don’t want her to drive alone at night again, which she initially refused but finally agreed.

We finish our dinner and split a slice of cheesecake for dessert. Probably not my brightest idea since I keep having to readjust myself because seeing her slowly swallow a mouthful of white, creamy concoction is a pure kind of torture. But I try to kick those dirty thoughts out of my mind and focus. 

Since last night, we’ve successfully managed to avoid the talk. It feels like we’re in a bubble where everything is perfect and we’re just scared to burst it, but I know this can’t go on. Emma and I need to have a proper chat if we want this to work.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“You and I need to talk, don’t you think?” I begin. 

“You’re right,” she nods. “So…”

“What is this?” I gesture between us. “Are you ready to give us another shot?”

“I think so,” she nods. “But I want us to take it slow.”

“You set the pace,” I assure her. “I want this to work more than I want anything else in my life. So I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“We’ll see this as a new dalliance,” she adds.

I know this is supposed to be serious so I try hard not to break into laughter. “Okay. I will court you but I won’t ask you to move to an estate in the country. Not right away at least.”

“I’m serious.”

“You sound like Austen.”

She rolls her eyes. “And we can’t tell anyone either.”

“I agree,” I tell her. “And from now on, we talk to each other, alright? I’ll try to make you happy the best way I know how. But if it’s not enough for you, then you need to tell me.”

She nods, but then her graze drops before she asks. “You really do want this right?”

“I told you I want this to work more than anything else in my life.”

“It’s just… when you first told me you wanted to fight for our marriage, I was overwhelmed because it was all so sudden. You told me everything I wanted to hear. Even at that moment, everything in me screamed for us to just fall back into it all the way. But there was also a part of me that thought you were just lonely, and maybe you thought that us getting back together was the answer to it.”

“Not true-”

Emma holds up her hand. “Maybe not true, but it’s my fear. That’s why I kissed Luke that night, because I was desperate. I wanted to push things with him because I knew I’d never love him the way I love you. I knew that if things went to pot, I wouldn’t be half as devastated. But with you? I don’t think I can survive that type of heartbreak again, H. You don’t know how much it killed me to end our marriage. I can’t afford to fall back into something that’s not going to last.”

“Emma,” I reach across the table to take her hand. “I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you. I know for sure it was not a decision you made lightly, nor on a whim. I wish I had fought you on it then… had fought for you then. There was a time when I thought our marriage was over, and I was going to let you go. But I’m not going to do that now. If it takes you weeks, months, hell, Emma… if it takes you years to fully trust my devotion to you, I’m in this for however long it takes.”

Emma nods, biting into her lower lip. I can see her eyes starting to water because every bit of this is overwhelming. She turns her head towards the music floating in from the other room. It’s a Van Morrison cover, Crazy Love.

“Wanna dance?”

The request takes me by surprise since this isn’t like her. But I toss my napkin on the table and move to stand next to her, holding out my hand. The simple delight on her face when her hand slides into mine is everything.

We step out onto the edge of the dance floor. I wrap my arm around her lower back, holding her tight and flush against me. One of her hands rests on my shoulder, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. The other is clasped in mine just over my heart. We sway, eyes pinned at each other for a few moments.

“Thought you hate dancing?” I smirk.

“Still hate it,” she answers. “I’m just using it as an excuse to be closer to you.”

She sighs, practically sinks into my arms. Emma’s head fits against my chest like she was made to be there. My chin rests against her hair.

“Emma?”

She lifts her head from my chest. “Yeah?”

“You don’t need an excuse.”

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love… 

***

“What the-”

“Oi!” I yell, quickly pulling the duvet over my wife and I. “Heard of knocking?”

“Heard of a bedroom lock?” Lucy challenges.

Last night, we drove up the M1 straight from the restaurant. We took breaks in deserted services with shiny floors and bad lighting where we had coffees and wandered around WHSmith bulk buying sweets even though it’s really not that far. But you can never have too many travel sweets, can you?

And now, here we are, back at the cottage. The kids are still at their grandparents until this afternoon so Emma and I are enjoying the benefit of having the house all to ourselves by having a morning shag. That is until one of her sisters walks in on us. I’m very aware that I’m still inside Emma.

I pull out, roll over to lay down next to my wife, and we both stare at Lucy who is dressed from head to toe like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin.

“Party?” Emma asks her sister. We both try not to giggle as she sashays in to look at herself in the mirror then perches on the bed in her harem pants. Today, she’s gone heavy on the winged eyeliner and shows off a flat midriff. I quite like the pointy silver shoes though.

“No, Tesco,” she says dryly. “Obviously a party.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask her. 

Lucy glares at me. “What are you doing here? Besides rearranging my sister’s guts, of course.”

I don’t even flinch. I’ve been married to Emma for ten years, I’m used to this sister of hers.

“I’m trying to win your sister back,” I say earnestly. I know that Emma and I talked about keeping this a secret, but she literally walked on us shagging. There’s no point in denying it. It’s best that she knows my true intention rather than thinking we’re divorced with benefits.

“Eh, about time,” she replies nonchalantly.

“Luce, please keep this to yourself for now,” Emma begs her. “This is still new.”

“I will,” she nods. “Just a friendly reminder, though, Styles. If you hurt my sister again, I won’t even think twice before starting a business selling voodoo dolls of you. Bet I could make a fortune of that.”

In their girl gang, Lucy is the wildcard, the likeliest to carry a shank. I don’t even laugh because she could be serious. 

“Duly noted.”

“What are you doing here this early?” Emma asks her sister.

“I wanted to ask if I can borrow that giant tiger in George’s room?”

“Feel free to borrow the rug in the front room as well,” I cackle.

“Ooh yeah,” Emma chirps. “Are you going to find a whole new world?”

“Have you got your Aladdin?”

She pulls a face at our mocking. “My mate who’s supposed to be Aladdin is sick so I asked Jamie to fill in and he agreed because he owed me a big favour. But this lot changed their mind and wanted a genie so now I have to go to Jamie’s and convince him to let me do a full blue body paint on him.”

Emma and I roar with laughter. “Please, please, please, take some piccies.” 

***

A month later…

I can only imagine the joy on my children’s faces when they open the door. I’ll be standing there with the pup in hand, but I know I’m practically vibrating with excitement myself. I glance over at the little dog crate that we’d prepared to transport him in. It’s a sweet, nine-week-old Bernese mountain dog. He’s pretty chill, curled into a round ball, but he’s not sleeping. His eyes are open and alert, as if he’s just waiting to find out what’s around the next corner.

The back of my Range Rover is loaded with two boxes of food, dog toys, bowls, a leash, and appropriate treats. Since I’m still crashing at my mum’s, that will go to her place for when the kids and this puppy come to stay. Emma has an identical list at her home, already purchased and hiding until we hand the puppy off to the kids.

I’ve got a feeling that today is going to be a good day. All morning, Emma and I texted back and forth. Some of it was practical, like making sure we agreed on all the dog rules we’d lay down with the kids tonight. Some of it was lighthearted teasing. Some of it was dirty.

I can’t remember the last time I texted my wife throughout the day just for the hell of it. I had fun with it, and I know without a doubt she had fun with it too. Which made me realise what a twat I’d been for never doing something as simple as letting her know she was on my mind in just such a way. 

Pulling into the drive, I cut my headlights so the kids wouldn’t see me approach. I shut the engine off, quietly get out of my side, and press the door closed quietly. On the other side, I open the passenger door, then spring the latch on the dog crate, and this tiny little puppy totters straight at me with tail wagging.

I lift him in my arms. I shut the door and then move over to the patch of grass. I put the puppy down so he will go potty before I bring him in. When I was a kid, we had a dog called Max, but I sort of grew up with him so I didn’t remember when he was a puppy. And Emma never had a dog before, so we’re sort of winging it with this puppy training thing. But I don’t fret about it. I mean, we’ve had babies, they’re harder than this, surely? 

I patiently wait for this little fella to do his business, which includes a few minutes where he attacks my shoelaces and tugs. Shite, he’s cute. 

Eventually, he sniffs around, tail high and then abruptly squats to pee. I thought boy dogs lift their legs when they pee but maybe not at this age. I immediately bend and give him praise with an upbeat, positive tone that makes him excited. Who’s daddy’s clever little fella? You are! Yes, you are! You did well, mate. That was brilliant! He puts his paws up on my shin, accepting my stretches with tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of his head. My kids are going to fall in love with this little guy. 

I scoop him up in my arms when he’s done and make my way inside. But instead of entering from the front door, I circle the house so I can enter from the back, knowing they must be all in the kitchen as this is usually the time when the kids would do their homework for next week. Walking past the window, I see that I’m right. Emma is at the kitchen island with George next to her and Minnie on the opposite side. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of spending the day with my family—and apparently our new third child in my arms—and I find it almost shameful I have such excitement over it. Shouldn’t I have always been this excited? Or is it normal for things to just settle, and we take them for granted?

I shake that thought off of my mind. I had this important talk with my wife a couple of weeks ago about how we shouldn’t focus on the past. We’re both committed to repairing our marriage, and for it to work, we both know we must commit to living in the present. Because at the end of the day, the present is all we have.

I knock on the door and as planned, Emma will tell the kids to answer it.

In moments, it’s swinging open. I get a flash of Emma walking up behind our kids, but my eyes are pinned on them. They’re both in complete shock, eyes wide open staring at the puppy squirming in my arms.

Both stare at me mutely, frozen, as if they can’t believe that this is real.

Finally, I say, “surprise!”

Minnie’s gaze rises up to meet mine. “Is that ours?”

“This is ours,” I nod, laughing. But still, neither of them move forwards, so I goad them. “Come and get him?”

That’s all it takes for Minnie to scoop this little fella into her arms, pressing her nose into his head and murmuring little endearments. George scratches him and he reacts to their greetings by wiggling frantically and trying to lick both of my kids’ faces. They both laugh in a delighted way I’ve never quite heard before.

I look at my wife and see her tender smile as she watches our littles. I can tell she’s as charmed by it as I am. 

I walk inside because it’s colder than a witch’s tit outside and shut the door. “He just peed outside, but we need to keep a close eye on him. If he starts sniffing around or circling, that probably means he needs a wee. Scoop him up and take him out to the back. After he’s done with his thing, give him lots of praise and affirmation.”

“Got it,” Minnie says as she plops down on the living room floor with the pup. The puppy jumps around, and all three of them start to play.

“Now, what should we name him?” Emma asks.

“Droolius Caesar?” I joke.

Emma laughs. “Jimmy Chew?”

“Sarah Jessica Barker?” I continue. “Wait, no, it’s a boy. Franz Fur-dinand?”

“Sir Barks-a-Lot?”

“Deputy Dawg?”

“Bark Twain?”

We both laugh. We’re shite at this. The kids are too busy with the puppy to comment on our suggestions.

SpongeBob SquarePants is on the telly playing in the background. None of them are watching, but I see SpongeBob scratching his snail pet under the chin before he picks up said pet and says, “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

“Gary,” I say. The kids look at me and I point at the telly.

“That’s a ridiculous name for a dog,” Emma cackles. “But I like it.”

“That’s a human name?” Minnie’s brows knit slightly.

“I like it!” George exclaims, then proceeds to baby talk the pup who’s chewing on the end of Minnie’s braid. “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

We laugh.

“H,” Emma calls, and my gaze moves to her. She jerks her chin to the kitchen. “Help me set up the table? I’ve got a cold beer for you.”

Minnie and George still completely ignore us as we move into the kitchen. 

It would be natural for me to sit at the kitchen island while Emma gets the beer and checks on the supper, but the kids can see me from where they sit in the living room. So I follow my wife behind the island instead.

Before she can make it two steps, I move right into the back of her. Hands at her hips, I push her all the way forward until the counter catches her hips, then I dip to put my lips to her neck. 

Emma’s head falls back and she utters the tiniest of sighs, one arm looping back to go around the side of my head so she can thread her fingers in my hair. It’s an intimate embrace, but not one to provoke lust. Just a message that I missed her even though I saw her two days ago, and I love touching her in this gentle, loving way.

“The kids,” she murmurs. “They might see us.”

“Oh, the tragedy,” I whisper dryly. “Our children seeing  their parents hugging.”

Emma snickers and pulls away, glancing over her shoulder. “It would be shocking to them. And until we know for sure what we are and where we’re going, we need to keep them in the dark, remember? I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”

“You’re right,” I mumble in a low voice before moving to the island. I glance back at the living room and see the puppy on George’s back, trying to climb up. “No touching around the kids.”

She smiles and hands me a beer. She’s got one in her hand, and we tap bottles. She then moves to the oven, where she bends to take a peek through the window. Obviously, I stare at her arse as she does.

“It’s done,” she announces, opening the oven to pull the pan of shepherd’s pie.

“Need help with that?’ I ask, noting it looks like it probably weighs fifty pounds.

Twisting, she grins. “Sure. I made a double batch to send you home with some leftovers.”

That gets me. Not only she made one of my favourite meals, but she’s also sending me home with leftovers. I pop off the stool, round the island and take the two potholders she’s holding out to me.

After I carefully lift the pan from the oven, she shuts the oven door. I set it down on the two trivets she’s placed on the counter.

Bending over, I inhale the scent deeply. “Smells fantastic.”

Emma bumps her hip against me. “Well… you’ve been pretty amazing these last few weeks, so…”

I bump her hip back before sliding my hand around her waist. Bending my head, I murmur. “Admit it… it’s for the orgasms I gave you after the school run the other day.”

She chuckles with a sly smile. “Possibly.”

Leaning in closer, I touch my temple on the top of her head, lowering to a complete whisper. “You do know that I can give you that any day you want, right, Em? All you’ve got to do is ask.”

“Oh, I will,” she teases.

“What’s going on here?” Minnie says from behind us.

Emma and I jump apart as if we’d been electrocuted by each other. We spin to see Minnie standing there, with George next to her holding Gary in his arms. These two must have worn that pup out as he is still, watching us curiously.

Minnie’s expression, on the other hand, is condemning and suspicious.

“Nothing’s going on, poppet,” Emma says, her voice a little squeaky in panic. It’s adorable.

“Your mum and I were just talking,” I calmly explain.

“With your arm around her waist and whispering,” Minnie challenges. “Looks more like flirting to me.”

“Are you upset about it?” I challenge back. I knew she was upset when we separated and she struggled with it for a long time. 

Her brows knit together. “I’m just confused.”

Emma’s expression indicates she has no clue what to say. I can’t say I’m any more well equipped, but I’m going to take this one. I give my wife a subtle chin tilt, silently telling her I’ll handle this and relief evident in her eyes.

“Come on, you lot. Help me sort Gary’s stuff,” I say, herding them towards the garage. 

All three of them follow me into the garage, Gary still cosy in George’s arms. 

I immediately spot the stack of supplies, which includes a dog crate similar to mine, as well as bowls, a soft dog bed, food and toys. I pick up the soft bed towards the door that leads back into the house. Minnie turns to precede me, but I stop her. “Hang on there a second, poppet.”

When she pivots to face me her expression is guarded. “You asked about your mum and me. What do you want to know?”

“Were you two flirting with each other just now?” She demands. Crap. She’s nine. She’s not supposed to know that stuff. 

I can’t believe I get a little warm in the face at such a question, but I nod. I know it’s probably too soon to tell them but there’s no point in denying this. Both of my children are smart, and they deserve to know what’s going on. 

Her eyes narrow. “So are you… what… getting back together?”

“Does it mean you’re gonna live with us again, daddy?” George chirps.

“Not yet, nuggets. It’s not that simple.”

“It kind of is,” she replies. “You left for months. You didn’t even come during the summer. Then once she started dating Luke-”

“What’s dating?” George turns to his sister.

“It’s when you like someone and they like you back and you become boyfriend and girlfriend then you go out to eat together and do other stuff,” Minnie explains, then she continues. “Then once she started dating Luke, you’re suddenly coming around more often. And then she told me that Luke wouldn’t come over anymore and now you two are making googly eyes at each other.”

We lapse into silence for a moment. I need to think carefully about what to say next. George beats me. “I think I’m dating someone.”

“You what?” My eyes widen.

“Yeah. I asked Poppy in the playground to be my girlfriend the other day and she said yes. Then after we were done playing on the slides we got hungry so she shared her raisins with me. I also let her take a sip of my Ribena.”

I try hard not to break into laughter but Minnie doesn’t even crack a smile. 

“Okay… so here’s the thing. I was very upset. I know that was wrong of me to just leave without saying goodbye, and it was wrong of me for not visiting sooner. I needed time to let it go, and to accept what your mum wanted. But not once during that time did I not want to come back home. I’ve always wanted my family back.”

“Then what changed?” Minnie asks.

“Your mum and I spent some time apart because we both thought that was the best decision. But we were wrong. Because we realised that we didn’t want to be without each other. So now I’m trying to prove that I’ve changed. That I’m a better man, and I’m ready to be a better husband. The one your mum deserves.”

“See,” Minnie murmurs, her expression filled with confusion. George dips his head and rubs his cheek against Gary’s head, who seems to be on the verge of falling asleep. “I don’t get it. You and mum always seemed to get along great. You never argued. I never understood why you left.”

I move in close to my daughter and brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “A lot of that stuff is private between your mum and I, poppet.”

George asks. “But why can’t you just move in now, daddy?”

“It takes time, mate. Your mum and I need more time to sort ourselves out. But I promise you two that we’re trying our hardest here, okay? We need you both to be patient. Can you do that for us?”

They both nod in unison. Gary blinks twice.

“I can’t wait for us to be family again,” says Minnie.

Grinning, I bend to kiss her head. “Me too, poppet…”

***

Emma

“Gary! This way, Gary!”

Harry and I look at each other across this rather windy hilltop. The kids and Gary are exploring the neighbouring bushes and pathways as we perch ourselves on a rock nearby. We take in the view, the breeze biting at my cheeks.

My husband turns to me. “Tea? I put some whisky in it.”

“Hell, why not.”

Harry pours the tea out and we clink mugs. He brushes his thumb across my nose for no absolute reason. I was born and raised here, but this is something I’ll never tire of: these swooping hills and valleys, infinite skies and bracing breezes. As much as I loved London, I’m glad we’ve traded that life with this simpler one. There is no taxi nor Tube in sight but our kids are somehow a little bouncier and carefree. They’re happy here, and that’s all that matters. 

 “Ey up,” greets Harry at a group of people walking past us. They are obviously tourists as they have no way to respond and one of them is wearing bog standard Reebok Classics.

We hear the kids squeal in the distance and we both smile at each other. Getting that pup was probably one of our best decisions.  

“Do you remember when we first dated?” Asks my husband. “You brought me up here.”

I nod. “I do.”

“The view was decent,” he grins. 

“I know you’re not thinking about the view.”

“I was thinking about what happened when we got to the top of the meadow…”

“That was some decent shag,” I chuckle. “Nowadays, I’d worry about getting ticks on my unmentionables.”

We laugh.

I stare over at my husband taking in the view and sipping tea noisily. He always pauses for a moment on any walk to drink it all in. He rustles in his bag and gets a packet of biscuit out, opening the packaging awkwardly and offering it to me. 

“Did you know that you’re supposed to call it ‘niece’ and not ‘nice’? Apparently, they’re named after the French town.”

“That’s proper pub quiz trivia knowledge right there, Styles,” I tease.

We stay up here for a little while, but since it’ll get dark soon, we start our walk back to the car. The one thing you forget about taking kids up mountains (small hills) is that for all that experience of green space and fresh air, eventually, you will have to bring them down. Despite having an entire packet of biscuit (with a whole lot of why did you bring this one? This is rubbish. You could’ve brought hobnobs), we failed to remember to pack enough snacks and a fine drizzle is now scratching at our faces. It takes George much persuading to keep walking and by the time we return to the car, the sun is dipping behind the clouds and the twilight sits in the air. 

Harry decided it was fine to park in a deserted car park in the middle of nowhere to escape the throngs of regular walkers and tourists but strangely enough, when we get back there, we are one of six parked up.

“Come on, mate. Literally, just to the car. Like twenty more steps,” Harry begs our son to keep on walking. 

“You lied!” He complains. “You said that twenty steps ago.”

“I’ve got Haribo in the car.”

He progresses to a light canter. 

“Where did all these cars come from?” Harry asks as he approaches our motor cautiously.

“Maybe you’re not the only smart one here and people are following your lead.”

A car flashes us. 

I look around at all the cars. People are sat in them. What are they waiting for? You see this sometimes when waiting for the rain to pass or when people decide to eat their lunch in the car. 

Suddenly, I hear a car door open and a gentleman approaches us. His footsteps are low.

I know him. It’s Patrick. He’s our postman, so, yes, we have our very own Postman Pat. It was the first thing that tickled Harry when he found out years ago. And even better, the joke is not lost on Pat. His wife even got him a stuffed black and white cat for his cherry-red van window. I smile at recognising him, as do all of the occupants in our car.

“Emma, Harry, kids. Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”

“We’ve got a new dog and we were just taking him for a walk,” I inform him.

“Oh, lovely. What’s his name?”

“Gary,” the kids say in unison.

“Have you got a dog, Pat?” George asks him.

“No, my wife’s a cat lady. But funny you should mention dogs. This place here, people like to come here for that reason.”

“Gary seemed to like it,” pipes in Harry. “I think it’ll be his favourite.”

“That it is. People come here all the time for walking and with their dogs and other such endeavours.” His face looks slightly ashen at this point, his eyes darting towards the other cars. “And the other sense of the word… I just thought I would mention it as you have the littl’uns and it’s getting darker. I think someone just flashed his lights to warn you.”

Harry and I realise what he means exactly at the same time. “OH!” we say at the same gobsmacked volume. 

“Dogg…ing…” Harry mumbles. “We should-”

“Leave, like definitely leave, like now,” I say finishing his sentence.

The kids appear confused. I look around and shield my eyes. I should shield the children’s eyes. Pat’s wife waves from the passenger seat.

“Give our regards to June,” I say.

“Will do.”

He salutes us and returns to his car. The kids have all the questions. “People come here to look at dogs?” George asks. “Where are the dogs?”

“Get. In. The. Car.” Harry mouths very deliberately.

I slink into the passenger seat. Our eyes dart in different directions trying to divert focus from any of the cars ahead. We’ll be good if Harry doesn’t drive us off a cliff face. He turns on the wipers, the engine roars to a start and he pulls away slowly.

“We could have stayed and seen the dogs,” says George, a little despondently. “Gary would’ve loved to see his mates. Wouldn’t you, Gary?”

I throw a packet of Haribo at him. Harry and I are silent. We’ve just strolled our children and our very young dog into an outdoor sex hotspot. We are terrible parents. 

“Who fancies chips?” Harry says as he changes gear. He finds our littles in the rear-view mirror and studies their faces. “There’s a decent chippy down road.”

There’s a chorus of approval from the back seat. My husband smiles. He then moves his hand over from the gearstick to find mine, fingers interlocked, the sky glowing a thousand different colours.

***

“Are you calling my turkey dry?”

I look over at my older sister Suze in the corner of our family kitchen wondering where on earth she had the courage to come out with a comment like that. Even her husband stops washing up to absorb what his wife just said to our mother. I mean, you think it, but you just douse it in gravy and make do. Such is the joy of white chalky meat like turkey. Why do this now? Now she’ll harp on about the bacon she puts on the breasts and all the goose fat. But it’s Suze. She likes the challenge. I secretly think the only way she believes she can have a relationship with our mother is to spar with her regularly so they at least have one line of communication.

“It was a lovely dinner, Mum. Did you make the mince pies?” Suze winks at me.

I shake my head at her and bring the plate of mince pies through to the living room. Amidst my mother’s wreaths and tinsel wrapped around the lampshades, it’s a familiar tableau: Pop, my grandfather, asleep in the armchair in the corner, a holy green paper hat covering his eyes. Small children crawl on the floor and make angel shapes with their bodies amidst remnants of old glittery wrapping paper.  I hope Mum’s made a trifle. My other sister Meg and her husband snooze on a neighbouring sofa, catching on much needed sleep since they just had a baby four months ago and I still remember four months sleep regression is hell. I like this part of Christmas where bits of old crackers litter the floor and twilight takes over.

I take a mince pie and escape to the last vacant spot on the sofa. George rests his head on my knees. “What are you eating, mummy?” I look down at his bright green eyes and wonder how he can still be hungry as he must be ninety per cent roast potato at this point.

“A mince pie.”

“With cow mince?”

“No, like fruity bits,” I pick out said fruity bits and drop them into his mouth like a baby bird. He pulls a face, tasting it, and then walks away.

Harry smiles at me from the bottom of the Christmas tree. He’s laying down on the floor with one of my nieces. He’s always been great with kids, long even before we have our own. My niece has her palm out, and Harry runs circles in it as he sings, “round and round the garden, like a teddy bear…”

She smiles and laughs, poising her fingers, ready to bounce. 

“One step, two-step, tickle me under there,” he pretends to collapse into giggles and my niece’s little face broadens into laughter before she rolls over and walks away to play with her cousins.

Finishing my last bite of the tiny pie, I roll under the tree to join my husband. He looks at me as I cosy up next to him, the lights reflect off his eyes.

My mother likes a real tree for Christmas. It’s the smell, you can’t beat the smell. I like to think you can get that real pine smell from a good supermarket brand toilet cleaner but I don’t say that out loud for fear of incurring her festive wrath. And so there’s always a real tree and like we endured when my siblings and I were teens, there’s still a daily rota of vacuuming up the needles as we watch that bastard go crusty and brown as it’s shoved up against the radiator. 

We lay there in silence, looking up at the branches and my mother’s multicoloured lights twinkling in some erratic fashion that my eyes can’t quite handle. I’ve been to raves that were less of an assault on the senses. It’s an overwhelming memory of our childhood, lying in silence wigging out on mum’s trippy disco lights, absorbing the magic of the season. 

“You’re drunk aren’t you, tipsy-tits?”

“You were the one who poured double shots of Baileys in our coffees this morning,” I cackle.

“That’s called Christmas milk.” 

“What are you doing here?” Minnie asks, her head nestling into my shoulder. I rake pine needles from her head.

“Nothing…” Harry replies. “Where’s yer brother?”

“Here,” George suddenly appears, rolling under the tree next to his dad to join us.

“Looks like the awesome foursome is back, huh?” Harry grins.

Minnie and George hum in agreement. I can see my babies smiling. 

It’s time.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

I take a deep breath. “Will you come back home with us?”

-

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[calumrose]

There’s No Place Like Home || C.H

A//N: Let’s just say I’ve not been doing so good since Calum posted that tiktok two days ago... And this is what became of that <3 Also, this might just be the smallest thing I’ve ever written so it’s feels very unfinished to me although it is actually done. Anyway, I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

Word Count: 1.8k

The morning sun was low as Calum ventured outside, the neck of his guitar securely in his grasp as he took a steady step down onto the smooth stone path which surrounded his home. The golden glow cascaded across the garden around him, shadows being painted across his surroundings as they danced in the gentle morning breeze. The sun provided a welcomed warmth to his back as he edged towards the small decking area where he usually kept his gym equipment for workouts. 

He held a mug in his hand as he sat himself down, palm curled around the pale ceramic as he lifted it to his lips to take a tentative sip of the bitter brew. His tongue touched his lip as the scalding liquid stung his sensitive skin, leaving a fresh pinch-like feeling behind as he lowered the mug from his face and placed it down next to him. He swallowed his mouthful of the warm coffee, his taste buds bouncing in delight at the shot of caffeine that was entering his system. Coffee was the only way to start his day according to Calum. 

Or so that’s how it used to be.

Looking over to his left, his chin tilting just barely so he could catch a glimpse, his eyes fell to the soft shadows which lay beyond the thin curtains that hung behind the open door that led out into the garden. Small glimpses of you being captured as the soft morning breeze blew, causing the curtains to split and small snapshots of the sight he loved become clear to his eyes.

A smile graced his face as he made out the soft shapes as they moved behind the curtain, the golden light shining against them only to bring out the darkened contrast of the shadow of the body which stood not too far behind it. Every movement was graceful through the curtain, the smooth lines of your body as it moved came across like that of a dance, the gentle lifting of your arm looking like a delicate petal of a rose that flew in the soft breeze.

His eyes were mesmerised as they set on your silhouette through the net curtains, his smile never fading as he watched the gentle movement of your legs as you swayed in place. He knew you weren’t alone, the faded sight of your craned neck looking downwards as your own eyes settled upon the small body that lay peacefully in your arms. He wondered how long she would continue to sleep for, her small body being removed from her crib in the early hours when you both arose from your slumber upon the sound of her soft cries. It wasn’t long before she drifted back to sleep to the gentle sound of your heartbeat as you prepared some morning coffee for yourself and Calum.

Setting the guitar on his lap, the curve of the wood bending so it rested comfortably on his thigh, Calum’s thumb slowly began to brush against the delicate strings. He allowed for his fingers to be placed along the neck of the guitar, knuckles bending as the pads of his fingertips pressed against the strings as he played the familiar chords he had known since he was young. 

A familiar acoustic melody filled the peaceful morning, the plants which littered the dirt along the fence gently blowing in the soft breeze. It was a sound that reminded him of the journey that had led him to where he found himself, what twists and turns he had taken throughout his life that had led him to find himself living a life that he could only have dreamed of living.

The soft words fell from his lips as he continued to play, the familiar lyrics lacing together as they left his tongue in a soft voice as he looked out into the golden rays of the sun as they danced and painted the garden in a beautiful light. The garden had always been a little getaway for the two of you, finding yourselves laying out there as the sun would set at dusk, eyes cast upwards to the sky as you’d watch the shades of orange and red brush across the wide-open canvas. You hoped that one day you’d be able to show your daughter the wonders of the world, to be able to bring her out and sit with her to watch as the sky changed colour, pointing up to the descending sun and waving it a warm goodbye before welcoming the blue moon in its place.

Lyrics slowly turned into mumbles, a soft hum sounding from within his throat as he gently bobbed his head to the rhythm he was creating with his hands. His eyes closed momentarily as he lost himself in the song, his lips curling as memories danced across his mind. Memories of days on the road, memories of late nights spent tucked away in small bunks, and memories of sweet kisses before running off onto stage to the sound of fans calling their name. The song held a lot of memories, most of them happy, some not so, but all of them important, nonetheless. They held memories of days spent with his brothers, days spent with his family, of days spent with you. Those were days he never wanted to forget.

Opening his eyes, Calum looked back towards the open door, the thin curtain having been pulled open so the sunlight could break through the open frame. He could see into the house from where he sat, the strip of sunlight stretching across the wooden floor as far as he could see inside. You were still in his eyeline, your body still gently swaying with every small step you took as you walked around the room. He noticed how your eyes were still settled upon the small body in your arms, your lips curled upwards as they moved and silent words were spoken into the air. He wondered what you were saying, what words you were speaking to the sweet girl who slept against your chest. He wondered if he would ever know the conversation that you shared with her, if he would ever gain knowledge into the private whispers and small giggles that escaped in the moments you stole with her in the times when Calum wasn’t around.

He watched with warm, kind eyes as one of your hands brushed her supple cheek, a finger curling at the second knuckle as you allowed for your skin to brush against hers. The blanket she was wrapped him hung from your arms, soft corners hanging in the air and brushing against your legs with every step that you took. He smiled at how the sleeves of the — his — sweatshirt you wore were slightly bunched up at your wrists, the fabric almost ballooning around your arm due to the size. He took in the tired lines that had pressed into your face, ones that he was sure matched his own, but they were marks that you each came to wear with pride. They were marks of parenthood. 

His smile grew once more as he watched you turn, your body moving towards the open door, your feet coming to a gentle halt just before the doorway. You kept her shielded from the crisp morning air, your sweatshirt-clad arms tucked around her as the oversized fabric acted as a warm wall to protect her from a threatening chill. He could just make out the details of her as you came to the door, his eyes finding the delicate features of her face and feeling how his heart leaped at the sight. She was so precious to see, her eyes closed, and little hands clenched into small fists as they gripped onto the fabric of the sweatshirt that adorned your body.

“I like the summer rain, I like the sounds you make,” Calum’s voice gently carried out into the morning air as he sang the chorus for a final time, eyes remaining set on the sight of his sleeping daughter as he sang, “We put the world away, we get so disconnected.”

Slowly raising his gaze, his eyes came to meet yours. The sight of your smile made his heart feel like it could burst, the slight push up of your cheeks as your eyes were soft as they connected with his. He felt his heart flutter as he continued to sing, fingers strumming the melody of a song he knew you loved to hear, even after all the years. He watched as your body swayed still, your movements in time with the soft strumming on his fingers against the delicate strings of the guitar in his lap.

Eyes never tearing from yours, Calum watched as your lips moved along with the words which he continued to sing, the lyrics being lost in the springtime air as they fell from your lips in a peaceful breath with no volume unlike him. You both kept smiling as Calum reached the end of the song, fingers plucking the melodic chords with ease as he played the final few notes and allowed for his hands to fall against the strings with a final strum.

“I could get used to the sound of you playing in the morning again,” You let out a blissful sigh as you looked out at him. “I’ve missed it, and I think someone else has to.”

Calum chuckled as he stood to his feet, one hand grasping the neck of his guitar, while the other took a hold of the half-empty mug that he had placed on the floor earlier. Bare feet padding against the ground as he made his way back over to where you stood, one foot becoming perched on the step as he came to stand in front of you.

The golden sunlight bounced off him, the warm glow shining against his skin as he stood in the open air. He was a beautiful sight to see, a sight that made your heart sing almost as beautifully as he had done seconds before.

“I guess you could say I was inspired this morning, being in my favourite place with my favourite people,” He let out a soft laugh, his smile wide as he gazed down at you. You joined his eyes as they drifted further down, both sets of eyes falling to the sight of her as she continued to sleep soundly in your arms. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here.”

There was nothing like being at home, wrapped up in the home comforts that Calum had come to love. His home was his safe space, a place where he could be himself, a place to unwind after a long day, a place where he could find the happiness and beauty in the life that he had claimed for himself. It was a place unlike any other. 

It was a place where he had those who mattered most. It was a place where he had everything he could ever want or need.

There was no place like home.

---

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[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

that makes four.

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PART 3

You hadn’t quite gotten used to being around Harry in the morning. What would typically be braless breakfasts on Saturday now had you wiping off any traces of mascara and at least throwing on a sports bra before you descended the stairs and turned on the keurig.

But on the morning of what would have been his last day, you came down to hear pots and pans already clanging together and giggles escaping the kitchen.

When you rounded the corner, CeCe was sitting on the counter, Maeve was trying to pour orange juice, and Harry was manning the waffle iron with a bowl of batter by his side.

“Morning,” you said with a suspicious glance. “What’s all this about?”

“Happy birthday!” CeCe smiled, excitement on her face when she turned to see you.

“My birthday’s not for another four days,” you reminded them, a kiss to her forehead when Harry offered a sheepish grin.

It had been long approaching, and thirty-two felt like a number you’d been avoiding in more ways than one. Turning thirty-two probably sounded like no big deal to everyone else. But being a newly-divorced single-mom who’d just lost her father and main support, having a birthday felt like a cruel way for the universe to remind you of all of your failures.

“Right,” Maeve said, “but it’s a Thursday, and we figured we wouldn’t be able to do all of this before school, so,” she shrugged innocently, Harry smiled down at her when you took another look around the kitchen.

It was messy, dishes in the sink and CeCe’s hands looked sticky. Maeve had her hair up but the batter was smeared on her forehead. Harry watched you glance around, his eyes expectant when you then asked: “Can I help?”

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head, amused by your obvious discomfort. “S’not what birthday girls do.”

He shooed you away once Maeve came over and tugged at your arm. “Here,” she said, “come sit and watch TV and I’ll make you coffee.”

“Let Harry make it,” you encouraged, unsure if she’d dump the whole sugar bowl in or spill half and half all over the counter.

“Mom, stay out of it, okay?” She rolled her eyes when she pushed the remote in your face. You looked over your shoulder quickly, shocked by the sight of a man with your daughter by his side, laughing and seemingly enjoying himself.

“Roger that,” you nodded, uncomfortable with the swelling of your heart at the sight of it. CeCe giggled and Maeve hurried back over, laughing when Harry let out a playful yelp at the heat from the waffles as he put them on a plate.

It took them a minute to get everything together, and right when your mug of coffee was returned (a little sweet, but you’d live), the doorbell rang and Maeve jumped into action. She pulled the door open to reveal Tristan, eyebrows arched high on his forehead when realized it wasn’t just any Sunday morning.

You were already on your feet to greet him, worried about the current state of your kitchen but also worried about the type of interaction might occur between your right hand man and the guy in an apron with CeCe tugging at his sleeve.

He’d been asking a lot of questions, his penchant for all things pop culture left him curious (or just nosy) about the current living situation in your new house. You were surprised, quite honestly, that it took him this long to pop over unannounced just to get a peek behind the curtain.

“Well hello” he looked around, a smirk on his face when his eyes settled on you. “Quite the morning we have here.”

“It’s mom’s birthday breakfast,” Maeve informed him, scurrying off to help her accomplices when you greeted him with a hug.

He kissed your cheek and shut the door behind himself. “A few days for you to panic, still, right?”

“Panic?” Harry called over his shoulder, his role more passive now that Maeve was worried about the presentation of the waffles on a ceramic plate.

Tristan took that as his cue to stick out his hand, head for the kitchen, and smile: “Nice to meet you, I’m Tristan. Second in command at Luna Skincare.”

“Harry,” he greeted, voice a good octave lower than Tristan’s and a firm enough handshake that made Tristan blush. “I’m just the house guest.”

“So I’ve heard,” Tristan winked in his direction.

“Alright, why are you here?” You tried to pull his attention away from the attractive man in your kitchen, a loud sip of coffee when he made a face at you.

He pushed a folder into your hands. “Sorry to show up unannounced." (He wasn't.) "But I wanted to show you these. Mock ups for the new body wash debut. Don’t know how I feel about those bottles, but, your call.”

You took it, opened it with one hand and let him thumb through some pages for you to see. The body wash debut was a long time coming--only about a month away and as always, it seemed to come at the best and worst time. Spring was always busy, you always launched something exciting and then CeCe’s birthday was in April. Then school got out in late May and there were plays and dance recitals and everything seemed to happen at once.

But spring was the perfect time for launches--sunshine, warmer weather, less rain in LA and people were typically ready to start spending money to prep their skin for summer.

“I kind of like them,” you looked up at him, voice hesitant when you showed them to Maeve.

“Clean lines, modern branding,” she nodded, coming back to stand beside you. “I like them too.”

“The council has spoken,” Tristan nodded, taking the folder back. “I’ll get back to them tomorrow morning and have them send a few samples over for us to see in person before we move to production.” He pulled out his phone and typed a few things into a note, Maeve tugged at your sleeve.

“Are you going to eat?”

“Yes, let’s offer something to our guest, though, right?”

“Harry’s not a guest anymore,” she wrinkled her nose at you in confusion. “It’s been way too long to call him that.”

“I mean Tristan,” you clarified with a laugh, eyes glancing over to Harry to gauge a reaction.

He felt like a guest, sometimes--when he asked how to use the washing machine or when he asked if it was okay to use the pool. But seeing him make waffles with your daughters or sit on the couch to watch a movie with everyone after dinner made him feel like more of a friend. And thinking that made you feel insecure and stupid.

Harry’s brows arched in Tristan’s direction. “We do have plenty.”

“I’m stuffed,” Tristan waved him off. “Had an omelette and a green smoothie and now I’m off to a spin class--wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Says the man who shows up at my house before 9am on a Sunday with no notice,” you teased.

He held a hand to his hard for dramatic effect. “I just felt like this couldn’t wait.”

“Right,” you narrowed your eyes. “No other reason you needed to stop by.”

He laughed, Maeve was growing impatient and he could sense it, adjusted his messenger bag on his shoulder as he turned to head for the door. “Birthday dinner Friday night? I already made the reservation based on Zoey’s list of restaurants.”

“I will be there, unfortunately,” you teased. “Even though I said we don’t have to do anything special.”

“Friday night?” Harry inquired, eyebrows furrowed together when he moved to lean on the island.

“You should come,” Tristan decided, an enthusiastic nod in Harry’s direction. “Jeff will be there, Zoey--you’ve met Zoey, right?” Harry nodded but you cut them off.

“You don’t have to, Harry,” you said before turning to Tristan. “He’s probably busy.”

He didn’t have to, that part was true. But your hesitance was also because it felt like another blurred line. Was it weird for him to come? Was it weird for him to sit at a table with your friends and sing happy birthday like you hadn’t just met a few weeks prior?

“No, m’not busy. I was actually going to ask if you wanted me to stay with the girls.”

Another wave of butterflies in your stomach at his words, but Maeve derailed the conversation.

“I’m sleeping over Bella’s house,” she informed.

“Me too!” CeCe chirped with a smile.

“No you’re not,” Maeve shot back. “You’re not coming with me to a sleepover.”

Tristan declined Harry’s offer for you before you even had a chance to open your mouth.

“Do you know the woman? She can afford a babysitter. You should come, we’re gonna have an exquisite time!”

Harry let out a quiet laugh, hands in his pockets when he looked to you. “Is that alright?”

You weren’t going to say no. You weren’t going to stare him in the eyes and tell him he couldn’t come or tell him--in front of your daughters--that it felt weird for him to suddenly be more than just a house guest.

“Of course,” you nodded.

“Perfect,” Tristan smiled, “then I’ll see you on Friday,” he pointed at Harry and turned on his feet, a wave over his shoulders at the girls. “Bye my little devils!”

They both echoed a farewell when you turned to face them. “Okay,” you said, a nod to yourself more than to them. This was fine, it was fine for Harry to come along and spend time with your friends, right?

“Let’s eat already, I’m starving,” CeCe groaned. Maeve reached into the drawer and grabbed forks, Harry got the syrup and helped bring plates to the dining room table. The girls reached for waffles and CeCe let out a cry when Maeve took the one with sprinkles that she wanted.

“CeCe,” Harry reassured, “I made this one just for you. Lots of sprinkles,” he nodded, forking a waffle off of his own plate and onto hers.

She grinned from ear to ear and the butterflies reappeared. Maybe having him around wasn’t so bad after all.

**

Maeve’s sleepover fell through. Apparently Bella didn’t ask her mom in time and when Shelli arrived to pick up the girls for an exciting sleepover at Auntie Shelli and Uncle Irv’s, Maeve was less than thrilled.

The day of your birthday was less than exciting. Meetings in the morning, Tristan brought you a cupcake at lunch and you were doing your best to not honk aggressively loud in the pick up line that afternoon when someone nearly caused an accident.

Take out that night with the girls because you didn’t want to cook and Harry was busy--some sort of meeting with Jeff and other people. You were sat on the couch by 10pm with a glass of wine and for a second, you thought about waiting up for him.

A text at 10:15 informed that he’d probably stroll in after midnight. You climbed the stairs and felt hopeless and pathetic and entirely old. Even if everyone was telling you that you weren’t.

Now, Maeve was going on and on about how unfair it was that you didn’t ever let her stay home alone.

“One day will you let me?”

You gave her a sideways glance, secured an earring in place at your dresser and then turned to see her.

“One day--a long time from now.”

“A long time?” She asked, slumped over in a chair in the corner of your bedroom. “How long is long?”

“Maeve,” you let out a frustrated sigh, thankful for the fact that Shelli was more than fine to entertain CeCe downstairs while you finished getting ready and plastered enough deodorant to your armpits in hopes that you wouldn’t sweat through this dress. “I’m not playing this game.”

“It’s not a game, it’s a question,” she shot back.

“When you’re fifteen maybe.”

“Fifteen?! That’s, like, five whole years from now!”

“I know,” you nodded, offering her some mock sympathy. “However will you survive until then?”

A knock on the open door, an awkward smile from Harry. “Hi, sorry to interrupt--you look beautiful.”

“Ew,” Maeve rolled her eyes but then didn’t say more when you shot her a glance in the mirror.

“Thank you,” you said awkwardly, resting a hand on your hip. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to say I’ll drive, if you want. That way you can, you know,” he held a hand up to his mouth and gestured throwing back a shot.

Maeve stared up at him, confusion etched on her face but then she looked to you. “So you can drink?”

Harry’s face suddenly looked guilty, his eyes wide when you let out a laugh.

“Yes, so I can drink. But only responsibly,” you informed her, a finger pointed in her direction before you nodded and obliged. “That would be great, Harry.”

If he was going to come, he might as well be useful. It wasn’t going to be that type of night, though. Thirty-two felt like it was way too old to get too drunk to drive or end up on a friend’s couch hungover in the morning.

This was just a birthday dinner, ten people total and fancy wine. You’d order dessert and be home by eleven.

Maeve lugged her overnight bag down the steps, complaining the whole way about Bella and dragging her feet out of the door and into Shelli’s car.

Shelli, who wrapped her arms around you and wished you a happy belated, kissed you on both cheeks and encouraged you to let loose. “You’re not old,” she smiled. “You’re mature, you’re settling into your life. You’ve got years ahead of you to be boring and tired.”

You smiled, let her hug you again when you said: “it’s just been a hard year.”

“I know,” she nodded, brushed your hair with her hand and gave you an extra squeeze. “And birthdays just make us look back at the last 365 days.”

You nodded when she let you go. She kept your hands in hers, though, ignored the way Maeve said something snotty to CeCe in the back seat. “But here’s to looking forward! To the next 365 days and to less headaches. I’ll keep these two under control and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry had wandered out now, sunglasses on to shield his eyes from the setting sun.

“Harry!” Shelli called him over. “Make sure Y/N has fun tonight.”

He let out a laugh but looked in your direction. “I can try.” He had the keys in his hand, pressed a button to make his car chirp to life when Shelli got in hers.

You bent down at the back window, reached in and pinched CeCe on the cheek. “Be good, okay?”

“You be good too, mommy,” CeCe smiled. They waved from the backseat when they pulled out of the driveway and you turned to see Harry, still standing with his sunglasses on a smirk on his face.

“What?”

“Is it really that hard to make you have fun?”

He walked towards his car, you followed his lead and prayed your heels would hold out on the pavement. “No,” you said with a certain level of defense. “She’s just teasing me.”

“Yeah?” He climbed in when you opened the door. You settled in beside him and felt a sudden urge to convince him.

“I’m a fun person, Harry.”

He smirked when he started the engine. “Never said you weren’t.”

“I just have responsibilities, you know? Two children--that clearly would kill each other with their bare hands if I weren’t watching.”

“Hmm, don’t think I agree with you on that one,” he laughed, the tires gripped the pavement of your street when he took off towards the restaurant. “I think they’re more tame than you think. In fact, I think you’ve gotten so connected to the role of mom that it’s hard for you to turn that off.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You sound like a therapist.”

He shrugged, dimples on his cheeks when he stole a glance in your direction from behind his sunglasses. “Does that mean I’m right?”

“No,” you said, looking down at the bracelet on your wrist. “Not completely.”

Quiet for a few moments, a left turn signal before he looked at you again. “I think you’re super fun, by the way.”

You hated the way it made your pulse pick up, another smirk in his direction when you felt your cheeks turn warm and he let out a tiny laugh.

You were both quiet for the rest of the ride, he introduced himself to Zoey and joked with Jeff on the way to your table on the back patio of a restaurant in Brentwood. They’d put up balloons, a toast in your honor after other friends filed in.

Appetizers first, embarrassing stories from your high school friends who seemed to flutter their eyelashes in Harry’s direction. Jeff’s arm was around the back of your chair by the time your dinner plates were cleared.

“The only time I’ve seen you as excited was when our dads brought us backstage for the No Strings Attached tour.”

You shot Jeff a look quickly, hoping he wasn’t planning on launching into the same story he’d told a thousand times--if only to see the look on your face.

“Wait, you mean the NSYNC tour?” Harry was seated across the table, margarita in hand when he leaned in for more details.

“Oh god,” Zoey rolled her eyes when Tristan shook his head. “Not this story again.”

“You mean the greatest story ever?” Jeff leaned down and shot her a look.

“We’ve all heard it,” Tristan whined, “I could recite it as if I was there, honestly.”

Harry’s eyes met yours, a few glasses of wine deep as the tea lights above the patio flickered on. “I haven’t heard it.”

“You certainly don’t need to,” you pointed at him with a lazy finger.

“Were you even alive then?” Tristan laughed.

“For NSYNC?” Harry pulled his head back, “course I was! My sister was obsessed with them.”

“Okay, well the story is literally stupid. Jeff thinks it’s funnier than it is and all that happened--”

“I want to tell him!” Jeff reached over and smacked you on the shoulder, pulling an eye roll from you when the others let out a laugh. “She asked Justin Timberlake to sign her boobs in front of our dads and it was ridiculously uncomfortable for everyone.”

“I was fourteen,” you defended, a smile pulling your lips towards the sky. “And stupid and in love with him and I didn’t think they could hear us.”

“Right,” Jeff waved you off as if everything you said was totally valid. “But the best part is when her dad then goes: ‘if you sign hers, you have to sign mine, too.’”

Zoey let out a snort of a laugh and so did the others, Harry tried to fight a smirk when he looked your way.

Jeff could barely keep a straight face, “Justin Timberlake never seemed so intimidated in his life.”

“I can’t believe I haven’t heard that story before,” Harry said to Jeff, elbows on the table now. “I can’t believe Irv hasn’t made a thousand jokes about it.”

You sipped at your drink and narrowed your eyes at Harry. “Maybe he also blocked it out due to being traumatized by the embarrassment.”

“What year was that?”

“Summer of 2000,” you looked to Jeff. “Their prime, obviously not mine.”

“Oh it was most certainly not your prime.” He shot back with a laugh,

You gave him a shove. “It wasn’t yours either! Your hair was curly and not in the cool JT way.”

“I’ve seen some of those pictures,” Harry pointed at his friend. “She’s right--not in a cool way.”

Jeff played it off and shot something back at Harry, ordered you another drink when you tugged on a jacket in the cooler air. The waiter brought out a cake with sparklers on top, Zoey took a thousand pictures and wrapped her arms around you at the end of the night.

“I have a feeling thirty-two will be a much better year,” she assured.

“Here’s hoping,” you agreed, pulled apart from her when Tristan leaned in to kiss you on the cheek.

“Well, you have a chauffeur for the night, so you’re off to a good start,” he teased.

Harry held up his keys in his hand and raised his eyebrows in a cheeky way. “Door to door service, a good price. Definitely off to a good start.”

You climbed back into the front seat of his car after Jeff shoved the balloons in the back, told you to keep them for the girls. The car ride was quiet, he told you about his album and kept the windows half way down as you snaked back up into the hills. You weren’t wasted by any means, just tipsy and tired and full after good food and better friends.

You keyed into the house with the balloons in hand, Harry was behind you and flicked on a light switch downstairs. You kicked your heels off inside and let the balloons float into the living room. “Want a glass of wine?”

He looked in your direction after clicking his phone shut, eyebrows raised as if he didn’t quite know how to answer. “Do you want a glass of wine?”

“I’d have one if you would,” you shrugged, already walking to the kitchen to grab some glasses.

He smiled, came to the island and ran a hand through his hair when you uncorked a new bottle of Pinot Noir. When you handed him a glass, he clinked it against yours and took a sip.

“Happy Birthday,” he said.

“Don’t remind me,” you laughed.

“Oh come on, s’not that bad.”

“You turn thirty-two and then tell me that.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” he nodded. “Dinner was good though.”

“As good as it can be when you get that group of weirdos together,” you admitted, stem of the glass between your fingers when you headed for the couch. He watched you walk away, paused for a moment before he followed suit and sat a few cushions down on the oatmeal colored sofa.

“S’kind of funny that we hadn’t met before Jeff set this up,” he motioned around the living room as if to gesture to the living arrangement. “I mean--obviously I’d heard a lot about you.”

“Like what?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him as you sipped the wine again. “If not the most embarrassing story of my early teens--”

“Just that you were one of his closest friends. Probably heard just as much about you from Shelli and Irv, to be fair.”

“I think I’m their favorite child even though I’m not actually theirs.”

He laughed at that, lifted his glass as if to agree with you before he angled his body towards you. “What did Jeff ever say about me? Aside from making me sound homeless and pathetic.”

You shook your head a bit and tugged at the hem of your dress. “He didn’t make you sound like either of those.”

“Well you didn’t seem too eager to have me living here…”

He trailed off, like he was waiting for you to protest or something. When you fought a smile and looked up at him, he squinted suspiciously. “What?”

You hesitated, unsure if admitting it would do you any good. Things were starting to feel normal, almost like Harry had a place in your house or your life or like it at least wasn’t awkward to be sitting on the couch with him after a night out with friends.

“Oh it’s that bad? Hesitate before you tell me bad?”

You made a face and laughed, almost embarrassed. “I was mostly focused on the fact that you’re young and that you’d maybe be a bad influence on the girls. You know--the whole rock star vibe.”

He smiled, nodded after a second but then said: “do I pass the test?”

“There’s no test,” you rolled your eyes.

“Right,” he looked at you like you were crazy, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “You expect me to believe that you didn’t make me meet you for coffee with Jeff that day to scope me out? Figure out if I was a total freak--”

You leaned back into the sofa and let out a playful groan. “I mean I was hoping you weren’t since Jeff always had such good things to say about you.”

He made you list them off, laughed at the fact that you thought you were too old or too uncool to come to the release for his first album. He poured you both another glass and smiled, hopefully you’ll come to the next one.

He showed you stupid videos from his time in his old band, listened to you talk about anxieties at work and how weird it felt to be in your dad’s house now.

“I mean, I’m glad we had a place to come.”

“Where’d you live before?”

“Woodland Hills,” you shrugged. “We bought a house there right after CeCe was born. It was nice, but too small and we obviously needed a change after I found him in bed with another woman in our bedroom there, so.”

Harry’s eyes went wide at that, he let out a laugh when you did, too. “Sounds miserable.”

“Yeah, it was.”

“And he’s not--does he see the girls ever?”

You bit your lip, moved your head from side to side and then sighed. “I mean--I asked if he could come to the funeral just to be with them and watch them since I was so busy, but he told me that he’d planned a weekend getaway with his new girlfriend in Malibu, so…”

“So he’s really a twat.”

You laughed at his word choice, British and confident when he nodded his head. “Yeah.”

“What’s his name again?”

“Luke.”

“Luke!” He scoffed and looked up the ceiling. “No wonder he was a twat.”

“Yep,” you nodded. “So it’s nice to be here.”

“I’m sorry that happened, by the way.”

You waved him off, finished the last of your wine and set the glass on the coffee table. “S’all good. Moving on to bigger and better things, right?”

“M’sure you can do better than someone who didn’t realize what a mistake he was making.”

You nodded slowly, dropped his gaze when you felt butterflies beneath your ribcage. You let out a breath, looked up to him. “I should probably head to bed.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, moved to stand from the couch and reached out for your wine glass. You handed it to him, ignored the way his fingers grazed against yours when he smiled. “Are you drunk?”

You hesitated to answer, followed behind him to the kitchen when he looked over his shoulder, waiting for your answer.

“Are you drunk?”

He pretended to be offended. “I asked you first!”

You lifted your shoulders and then giggled. “Yes, but in a good way.”

“Great, love that.”

“You have to answer, too!”

He turned around after he put the glasses in the sink. “After a bottle of wine here and a few margaritas at dinner? Of course I am,” he laughed. “Red wine goes straight to my head,” he pointed to his temple.

“Well,” you started to walk back to the living room for the stairs by your office, flipping off a few light switches along the way. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Yeah? You plan on getting me drunk again soon?”

“I didn’t get you drunk,” you pointed at him. “It’s my birthday dinner, remember?”

“Yeah--you’ve been throwing them back all night so I couldn’t forget.”

“From the guy who encouraged me to have fun tonight! I’ve been having a great time, totally relaxed, totally cool…”

“You have,” he laughed, his footsteps echoing on the stairs behind you. “Just like you were totally cool when you met NSYNC.”

“Hey,” you turned around quickly and laughed, a tad unsteady from the drinks and the time of night. “That is privileged and confidential information--not something you get to hold over my head!”

“Mmm, okay, so I can’t bring that up in front of Irv and Shelli?”

“Absolutely not,” you leaned against the door frame to your room. “Unless you want to never speak to me again.”

It was dark in the hallway, a glow from the lights on the first floor crept up the stairs when he held your gaze for a second.

“Wouldn’t want that,” he said, voice quieter now.

Your heart seemed to flutter, or maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that you were up way too late. “Mhm,” you paused, unsure of how to respond to the sudden shift in the air between you. “Then I suggest you forget that story.”

“Thanks for letting me come with you guys tonight.”

“Yeah,” you said, eyes down to the ground for a second, suddenly self conscious. Did he have a good time? Was it weird for him to come? “Thanks for driving.”

You didn’t have too long to dwell on the thoughts, though, because soon he stepped closer and let his mouth meet yours before you were able to bring a hand to his shirt, tugging him into you.

He pulled you closer, too, his hand on the small of your back before he pulled away. “Are you--is that--I should have asked first.”

“No,” you shook your head, the word sounded funny in your drunk brain. “I’m not mad about it.”

He let out a quiet laugh, kissed you again when you tugged him back into the room and shut the door with his free hand.

You stumbled backwards, laughed against his lips when he lowered you onto the bed. Greedy hands and desperate moans when he pulled away to tug down your panties. If your life had been a movie, there’d be a cut to the hands on a clock spinning while you giggled into his neck and felt your skin against his beneath the sheets.

But what felt like a dream could only last so long.

Your head shot up from the pillow when you heard it--the door opening and shutting, the beep throughout the house to let you know someone had arrived. Sun shone through the curtains and giggles floated up from the first floor, you heard Maeve tell CeCe something and then you heard footsteps on the stairs.

Morning, the night faded into sobriety and you rubbed your eyes. His face was barely visible beneath his messy hair and the sheet pulled up to his chin.

“Harry,” you shoved him, voice quiet but stern. “Wake up!”

He blinked a few times, squinted in the sunlight and you realized that an 8am wake up call might have been early for him, you know, since he was barely an adult.

“The girls are home,” you said when you shoved him again. “Which means Shelli is here, which means you need to get the hell out of my bed.”

His eyes opened wide at that, he pushed himself up and then scrambled out of the sheets when he heard footsteps in the hall. The door was locked, luckily, but the banging of little fists had you pushing Harry into your bathroom and telling him to not say a word.

He was sleepy, but his lips pulled into a smirk when he took one look at you half-dressed. There was no time for addressing the way his fingers pulled moans from your lips or the way he said he’d been waiting for this. No, because as soon as the thoughts of last night settled back into your brain, you tugged the door open to see your beautiful daughters smiling up at you.

“Good morning,” you said, voice cheery when you tugged a sweatshirt over your skimpy tank top. You forced a smile and Maeve seemed to narrow her eyes.

“You look messy.”

“I just haven’t brushed my hair,” you told her. CeCe pushed past you and ran straight for your bed, a cannonball of sorts into tangled sheets.

“We had the best time with Auntie Shelli and Uncle Irv!” She said, “we watched a movie last night mommy and I stayed up until ten o’clock.”

“You fell asleep on the couch,” Maeve corrected her. “I stayed up until almost eleven,” she bragged.

“That’s great,” you told them, heartbeat rising as you tried to search for a way out of this. “Girls, why don’t you go find Auntie Shelli and--”

“I’m right here, sorry, I hope they didn’t wake you,” she appeared in the doorway, pulling another forced smile from you when you turned on your heels. “Good morning,” she looked you up and down with a smirk, more perceptive than your daughters.

“Where’s Harry?” Maeve asked, crossing her arms as she relaxed back on top of your duvet.

“I don’t know,” you said quickly. “In his room.”

“Door’s open, he’s not there,” she answered.

“Maybe he went to stay at a friend’s house.”

“Oh--did he tell you that?”

“I don’t remember,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, suddenly feeling put on trial by your ten-year-old.

Shelli had scanned the room, her eyes landing on the shoes by the foot of your bed that were clearly not yours. She smiled, nodded slowly and then said: “Girls, why don’t we go pick up donuts? We can bring some back for mom and she can take a shower and straighten up while we’re out?”

“Great idea,” you smiled, a hurried nod as you moved towards your daughters and ushered them out of your bed. “When you get back we can watch TV or go for a bike ride later today,” you were just throwing shit at the wall now, anything to get them out of your room and distracted enough to not realize that Harry’s shirt was on the floor beside his pants and that his bed hadn’t even been slept in.

“I want a jelly donut!” CeCe informed you when Shelli pushed them out into the hallway.

“Sounds great,” you smiled. “See you in a bit, okay?”

You mouthed a thank you to Shelli and she winked in your direction, a wave of nausea crashing into you once the door was shut. You rushed over to the bathroom door, pulled it open, and found Harry leaning against the wall with his head in his hands.

He looked up quickly at the sound, offered an awkward smile and said: “are you livid?”

You shook your head, unsure how to put your emotions into words but also aware of the fact that this was the exact reason why this should have never happened. You turned around and headed back for the bedroom, looked out the window near your closet to see Shelli helping the girls into the backseat.

“You’re not livid?”

“No,” you said, turning around quickly. “I just--I don’t know--that probably wasn’t a great idea.”

His face fell a little bit, arms crossed over his torso when he asked: “what do you mean?”

“Last night was fun, Harry, but I’m thirty-two. I’m a mom,” you said the word like it was embarrassing to admit.

He made a face like he didn’t get the point but then nodded. “I’m completely aware of both of those facts.”

“You’re twenty-four,” you reminded him. “That’s a seven year age difference.”

“Eight, now that your birthday passed,” he said this sheepishly, like he knew it would lead to another groan.

“Exactly!” You said. “That’s a big gap. I spend my weekends going to birthday parties and playdates. What do you even do? Go to clubs and hang out with millionaires?”

He let out a laugh. “I’ve been hanging out with your kids a lot on the weekends, to be honest.”

“Yeah, but, my kids almost just caught us in bed together and Jeff’s mom is definitely aware that something happened, now, so--”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

A moment passed when you heard the engine start.

“It was fun, though,” he said, a small step closer to you when you let out a sigh. “It was something I’d been hoping would happen.”

Your breath seemed to catch in your throat when he took another step closer, the pad of his thumb making contact with your arm when he went on. “Call me crazy but I feel like we both knew that was coming.”

You took a step back, not because he was wrong and not because you didn’t like it, but because suddenly every thought in your brain was spinning at 100 miles per hour and you knew you had about fifteen minutes to get dressed and figure out what the hell was going on. Or at least craft a story that would explain why his clothes were in your room and figure out a way to get Shelli to completely forget whatever she thought she saw.

“Can we maybe talk about it later? Like--when they’re not coming back here in a few minutes with donuts and coffee?”

“Yes,” he nodded, words fumbling out of his mouth like he’d forgotten how to form sentences. “Later. I’m going to get dressed.”

“Me too.”

He shut the door after he gathered up his clothes and shoes. You sat on the foot of the bed and stared at your hands--the ones that had touched him and run through his hair and traced circles on his chest when you fell asleep.

You were simultaneously mad at yourself for being stupid enough to do that and still completely enchanted by the fact that it happened and you weren’t dreaming and you hadn’t been crazy to think there was some level of sexual tension between you.

You were drunk. The first time you'd had more than two glasses of wine in a while, after all. Whatever type of stupid crush that had developed was nothing more than that: stupid, silly, a complete fantasy that had sparked into a flame once you had a few drinks.

Sure, maybe you had no clue what to do moving forward, but you figured that playing it cool was the only option until you’d had enough time to let your thoughts and feelings settle.

Maeve and CeCe were clueless, you learned, when they sat at the counter and scarfed down donuts. You sipped the coffee that Shelli had returned with and asked about their night.

A movie, popcorn on the couch, so many laughs and Uncle Irv even let them play on the old pinball machine he kept in his office.

The shower in Harry’s room shut off eventually, he descended the stairs with wet hair and offered a timid smile to everyone in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he patted CeCe on the head and moved to fetch the cup of coffee that Shelli offered in his direction.

“I’ll take it the birthday dinner went well?” Shelli brought her coffee up to her lips and let her eyes dance between the two of you. Harry looked at you and you looked at him, a silent standoff to see who would respond.

But it was your birthday, you realized.

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Was great.”

You reached for a bite of donut from CeCe’s plate, she let out a yelp when you plopped it in your mouth, offering her an apologetic look. “Good food, good drinks.”

“You enjoyed yourself too, Harry?”

He was caught off guard by this, lips in a thin line when he set his coffee on the counter and nodded. “It was wonderful, really.”

Shelli wouldn’t care--you weren’t worried what she would think or if she’d judge you. If anything, you knew she’d be the type to encourage you to let your hair down and venture out into the dating pool. Which is what she practically did last night. You just didn’t know if she’d actually meant to encourage you to sleep with the client of her son.

But she didn’t know the context! She didn’t know about the way he looked at you across the dinner table or the way he kept pouring wine. All she knew was that she told you to have fun and then she found you--quite disheveled--with Harry’s clothes on the floor and Harry himself nowhere to be found.

Maeve was off to her room soon enough, reporting that she needed a break from CeCe who was keen to play with a doll in the living room with the TV on. You wiped the counter with a sponge and Harry took a loud slurp of his coffee when Shelli broke out into a full smile.

“It’s none of my business,” she said.

“It’s not,” you looked up at her quickly.

“But,” she lifted a single shoulder and smirked when you rolled your eyes. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Then why was he hiding in the bathroom?” She lowered her voice so CeCe wouldn’t hear.

“How do you know I was in the bathroom?”

“He wasn’t hiding in the bathroom.”

Shelli offered an unimpressed look in your direction but then turned to Harry. “She’s a catch, Harry.”

“Okay,” you held up a hand, embarrassed and uncomfortable and already breaking a sweat. It was fun, you’d been thinking a lot about him and the way he acted with you and the kids and you didn’t need Shelli to be egging on your single-mom fantasy.

Harry blushed at that, a nod in her direction and a smirk on his face when he brought his eyes to you.

“Shelli--people get drunk and do things that sometimes they wouldn’t normally, right? So, I need you to not make a big deal out of this and not tell Jeffrey.”

She put her fingers up to her lips and twisted them, implying that they were locked and Jeff wouldn’t catch wind of your best and most anxiety-provoking hook up to date. She dropped it at that, Harry made some excuse about going for a run and soon Saturday melted back into what you’d hoped it would be: the kids playing outside, cannon balls in the pool after lunch.

Daylight faded and it wasn’t until after 9pm when you had to face him again. He knocked on the door to your office when you had glasses falling down your nose, a sweatshirt tugged over your messy bun.

The side of his mouth twitched into a smirk, arms folded over his chest. “Do you ever take a day off?”

You let out a laugh and turned to see him over your shoulder. “Email never sleeps.”

He watched you for a second, wheels spinning in his head as he planned out his next words carefully: “Is now a better time to discuss what happened last night?”

You let out a sigh, one that pulled a nervous look to his face, but he soon laughed. “Uh oh,” he teased. “Doesn’t sound like a good start.”

“No,” you laughed, unsure of how to save any last morsel of dignity. “I’m sorry that Shelli was so...intrusive this morning.”

He looked down to the ground but chuckled. “Can’t say I’m surprised. She’s always talked about you like a daughter.”

“Yeah, I just--I had a great time, I mean that--”

“But,” he looked at you expectantly, blinked a few times when you smacked your lips together.

“But I think that it needs to be a one time thing. It would be really confusing for CeCe and Maeve if they found out.”

He nodded, took a deep breath and said: “I agree. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Something plucked at your heart, an unidentifiable emotion that made you want to kiss him harder than you did after five drinks and a birthday dinner. He was fine--totally understanding and unbothered by your words that effectively ended whatever mini-fling had existed for less than 24 hours.

Maybe that was it--disappointment. Had you expected him to put up a fight and convince you endlessly to sleep with him again or sweep you off your feet and drive off into the sunset? No. Did a part of you wish that he didn’t seem so accepting of learning that it would never happen again? Apparently so.

You faltered for a second, stared at him awkwardly but then clicked out of your mailbox. “Do you want a glass of wine?”

He looked back out to the kitchen, quiet and tidy after it’s post-dinner clean. “Do you want a glass of wine?” He smiled a bit, watched you with a sturdy dose of suspicion when you stood and rolled your eyes.

“Is this our thing? Turning questions around?”

He laughed but trailed behind you, sat at the island when you picked out a bottle. “Our thing? What do you mean?”

“You know--all friends have a thing, their bantery joke. Apparently ours is asking a question but then the other person turns it back around.”

“Hmmm,” he laughed, thought on it for a second when you uncorked and poured. “Are we friends?”

You looked up at him, matched the smirk on his face when he plucked at his lower lip. You slid a glass over to him on the granite. “Are we not friends?”

“You’re doing our thing.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, took a sip of the Merlot and then cleared your throat. “We can be friends.”

“Friends who don’t sleep together.”

“Right,” you nodded, less self-conscious than you had been in your office. It happened, right? People would accidentally sleep together when they were drunk and they could move on, poke fun, make light of a situation that threatened to bring too many emotions to the surface if either one let their guard down for a second.

“Did either Maeve or CeCe ask any more questions today about where I was?”

“Nope,” you shook your head, let out a breath of relief. “Maeve got too distracted by the donuts and the activity planning of the day and CeCe was oblivious the whole time. So, we should be fine.”

“Good,” he said. A pause when he let out a quiet laugh.

“What?”

He looked up at you briefly, shrugged a little and then said: “Just can’t help but think about what Jeff would say.”

You blushed at that, dropped his gaze and stared at the wine in your glass. “I don’t know about you but I’m okay not finding out.”

Another dimple on his cheek when he asked: “embarrassed of me?”

“No,” you laughed, fighting a smile. “I just know how he can be. He’ll want to know every detail and he’ll have a million questions. If you think Shelli was bad this morning, Jeff would be worse.”

He smiled, tipped his glass back to take another pull. “Right, he might as well be your brother, I guess.”

“He’s just as annoying as one, that’s for sure." You were desperate to change the subject, fearful of what you might say or admit if the topic stayed put. "Do you have any siblings?”

“Sister, yeah,” he nodded. “Just the two of us.”

“Are you close?”

“Super,” he smiled. “We talk pretty regularly despite the time difference. Our parents got divorced when we were young so it kind of feels like we’ve been through a lot together.”

He didn’t realize the way his words hit close to home until you sighed.

“How much did that ruin your life?”

He pulled a face, apologetic and understanding at the same time. “It didn’t ruin my life,” he reassured. “Just don’t think they were meant to be.”

“Well I can definitely relate to that.”

He tilted his head to the side, swirled the wine around his glass. “Why do you ask if it ruined my life?”

“I just worry about them, I guess. I was young when they got divorced, and then my mom passed and that definitely affected my sense of family."

He nodded, his eyes invested when you spoke.

“It was just me and my dad--and obviously we had the Azoffs, but, I don’t know. I guess I just worry that they’ll also grow up feeling somewhat unfulfilled.”

“Did you want a sibling growing up?”

“More than anything,” you laughed. “I mean, I had Alison and Jeff and all of them, but--you know, it’s not blood.”

“Yeah,” he took another sip. “I get that--my step dad was really important to me, passed away last summer.”

“Oh, wow--I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

Great--here you were complaining about losing both parents now, completely unaware that Harry had suffered a similar loss and yet this was the first time you were hearing it.

“I don’t mean to talk about myself so much,” you said quickly, cheeks flushed in a pink hue of shame.

He let out a soft laugh, almost as if he found your sudden retraction endearing or adorable. “I could listen all day.”

“Well, I wouldn’t make you suffer through that,” you said.

He stood, rounded the edge of the island and you wondered if he could hear your heart beating out of your chest, like you were 16 at a summer fair on top of the ferris wheel. His lips were pressed to yours before you could tell him not to, before you could stick up a hand between the two of you and remind him what you’d said only a few minutes earlier: friends.

The moment was quick, though, the tiny thudding of feet on the stairs sent him flying to the other side of the kitchen. CeCe’s hands gripped the railing and she rubbed at her eyes when she let out a tiny wail.

“I--had--a--bad--dream,” she cried, her voice soft in the dim kitchen.

“Oh sweetie,” you hurried over to her, let your arms wrap around her before you scooped her up into your arms. “It’s okay, it was just a dream, you’re here and safe with mommy.”

You looked over to him, a close lipped smile in apology when you turned back to the stairs. Maybe it was for the best. If you couldn’t control yourself around him, at least you could count on nightmares and little feet to be your safety net.

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[broiderie]

Part 7 of Lost Princessa

Please do not translate, duplicate, or move any of my writing to other platforms. My demented mind does not need the help.

Warnings: cursing, panic attack, slow burn flirting. Let me know if I missed anything.

Taza x Daughter!OC, Megan x ?? eventual

Thanks to @drabbles-mc for listening to me throw things around for this.

P.S. I gave in and got a chromebook for typing this so I wasn't doing it on my phone all the time! Please ignore the formatting with the swap from bold to regular. I'll fix it later. Enjoy.

A few hours later, Megan was slowly getting comfortable in the club house. She had gotten behind the bar and re-arranged the station to make things easier for herself. Upon discovering that apparently the bar was tended by giants before, she had tried to move things to lower shelves where she could reach. Hank, of course, spotted her as she started to climb shelves and counters. He had sighed and come to help her. “I’m going to start calling you el mico if you don’t stop climbing things, Princessa. Let me help.”

They had chatted quietly while they worked and Hank had even made her laugh again. It seemed to be a goal of his to make her laugh as much as possible. 

Coco came to the bar and leaned on it. “Alright, Ma. You can’t hide back there all day. Come play a game of pool.”

Megan seemed to tense when she realized that Coco was there and they weren’t alone. “I’m not hiding, Coco. Just getting things set up. You need another drink?”

“Nah. You two need to come have some fun.” He slapped a palm on the bar. “You two against me and Gilly. C’mon Princessa.”

Hank smiled at his brother. “We’ll be there in a minute, Coco.” As Coco walked away, Hank wiped his hands on a bar towel before handing it to her to do the same. “Coco’s right. You shouldn’t be working off the clock anyway. C’mon. Let’s go beat their asses in pool.”

Megan laughed. “And if I don’t know how to play?”

Hank’s answer slipped out before he could sensor it. “Gives me an excuse to teach you.” His cheeks immediately warmed in embarrassment.

Megan threw her head back and laughed. “Guess I’ll play dumb then.”

Taza watched the whole interaction from the table with Marcus and Bishop. He couldn’t help the smile he had. His daughter was getting more comfortable. Especially with Hank. Her personality was starting to shine through that shyness and he couldn’t wait to see more of it.

Alvarez and Bishop had noticed it too.

“I think la princessa is on her way to becoming Hank’s reina,” Alvarez said before he sat back in his chair with a smile.

“Did you see his face when she walked in?” Bishop asked the other two men. “I swear, he had to pick his jaw up off the floor.”

Taza chuckled. “You should have seen him this morning while they were making breakfast.”

“He stayed the night?” Alvarez asked.

“Mmmhmm. Said he wanted to be a buffer if we needed one. It was like pulling teeth to separate them for a few minutes.” Taza grinned. “It was kinda cute watching Hank trip all over himself and be domestic.”

They watched as Hank fought his instinct to guide Megan with a hand on her waist to the pool table.

Bishop snorted. “Puppy love. Nothing like it.”

Taza chuckled. “Were we that awkward with women?”

Marcus shook his head. “Not me… and definitely not Romeo here.” He nudged Bishop who just smiled.

For the first rounds of turns in the pool game, Megan really did act clueless. Coco and Gilly were fallinging all over themselves to give her pointers, but she only looked to Hank for “help”. Hank chuckled and took the excuse to stand behind her and line up her shots. He could feel her moving the que on her own and had a feeling that she was faking needing the assist.

Sure enough - Coco and Gilly won and immediately called for a rematch “now that you know the rules, Princessa…”

“You can even break, Ma…” Coco said, smoking yet another cigarette. 

Megan looked up at Hank and winked when the younger boys weren’t looking. “Okay, but I’m not very good at this…”

“Aww, you’re doing great sweetheart. Give it a shot.” Gilly turned on the charm. “Maybe you better let me help you with this game, huh?”

Megan chalked her que as Hank racked the balls for her and smiled sweetly at Coco’s bear of a best friend. “You’re sweet…” She leaned over and lined up the break shot sinking a solid quickly. She then preceded to run the table on them- sinking ball after ball. “Eight ball - left corner pocket.” She sank it easily before grinning at the slack jawed men. “I guess Hank’s a better teacher than you thought.”

There was a round of applause from her father and godfathers’ table, so she turned and gave them a joking curtsy.

“... how the FUCK did you do that?” Gilly asked, still dumbfounded.

Hank chuckled and put his pool que back in the stand. Gilly looked at him. “Did you know she could do that?”

“Nope, but I hope someone got it on video. Your faces were priceless.”

Megan sauntered back over with her hands in her back pockets and a shit-eating grin on her face. “You know… for outlaw bikers y’all sure are ebay to hustle in pool.”

Coco couldn’t resist throwing an arm over her shoulders and gently shaking her. “It’s the big eyes. You look so innocent, Ma.”

She ducked out of his grip laughingly, but quickly made her way back to Hank’s side. Hank noted the tension in her shoulders and ran a gentle hand down her back to soothe it. When he started to remove his hand again, she subtly shifted to keep it at the small of her back and relaxed into it.

She continued chatting with his brothers for a few more minutes. Gilly started calling her “tiburón” and laughing.

“You know… no one has translated these nicknames that I keep collecting. Y’all wanna help a girl out here?”

EZ brought more beers for the guys and offered one to Megan who turned it down.

Coco puffed a smoke ring and chuckled. “You know some of them.”

“Well… Taza’s ‘chica’ I know and ‘princessa’ is obvious- but the rest are way beyond me.” She leaned a little more into Hank’s arm and shifted her weight. 

About then Taza joined them. “Your tíos call you ‘poquito’ which means ‘little bit’. Tiburón is shark.” He smiled and offered her a bottle of water which she gratefully took.

She looked up at Hank. “You called me another one earlier. What was it?”

Hank chuckled. “Mico. It means monkey.”

She grinned and wrinkled her nose at him. “I like Princessa better.”

“Noted.” He slipped his arm further around her waist so that his huge hand rested on her hip and she was closer to his side.

“Now, Chica, do you want to go home before we go to the party? We’ve got a few hours, but Bish wants me to run by the church with him.” Taza grinned. “Gotta talk to the padre.”

She laughed at her father’s excitement about getting to do something traditional for her. “I’d like to change my shirt and grab my flannel before the party tonight, but you go deal with the preacher. Are all three of you going?”

“Yeah. I can drop you off if you need stuff.” She could tell he was reluctant to leave her alone. 

Hank spoke up. “I don’t mind running her to your place, Taza. I need to run some prescriptions to the pharmacy for Mom anyway before the party.”

She smiled up at him. “You sure you don’t mind? I’ll be okay like I am.”

“I’m sure, Princessa.”

Taza tried to cover his smile by running a hand down his face, but Coco caught it and grinned back, Gilly was oblivious. 

“You’re coming to Vicki’s? Why?” Gilly asked confused.

“I’m the new club bartender.”

Gilly’s face lit up. “You gotta promise to play pool with Angel tonight! I can’t wait to see his face…”

They all laughed.

“Alright then, Chica. You got the key I gave you?” Taza asked.

“Yep,” she pulled the shiny new house key on a Harley Davidson keychain out of her pocket to display it proudly.

“Good. Hank, make her eat something please?” Taza asked as he pattes Hank’s shoulder in farewell. Megan surprised him by stepping out of Hank’s arm and hugging him tight around the middle. Taza gently returned the hug and cleared his throat. “I’ll meet you at Vicki’s, Chica.”

“Ride safe."

“Always.”

As the three older men left, Megan stepped back close to Hank. Her shoulders tense as she realized that she was outside of her father’s protection for the first time since meeting him. Her breathing picked up a little and her hands started to shake. 

“Looks like it’s time for Hank to take la princessa to find something to eat,” Coco said as he noted the slight shake of her hands. “Your blood sugar dropping again, ma?”

She smiled weakly at Coco. “Maybe. I’ll be okay in a minute.”

Hank slid his arm back around her waist as if to support her. That’s when he felt the tension in her muscles that she was trying so hard to hide. “C’mon, Princessa. Let’s get you fed.” He waved Coco’s concern off - but accepted the pack of crackers he slipped him for her- and led her outside to his bike.

Taza had sat her helmet and jacket on the seat of Hank’s bike for her. 

As soon as they reached the bike, Hank sat her sideways on it and squatted down to be eye level with her. “Breathe, Princessa. Deep breaths. C’mon. Good girl. Again.” As the shaking calmed, Hank placed a gentle hand on her knee. “Better?”

She nodded. “S-sorry.”

“No apologies, Princessa. Do you know what caused it?”

She nodded again and muttered, “Taza left.”

Hank frowned. “Do you want me to call him back or take you to him? He wouldn’t have left if he knew you would be frightened.”

This time she shook her head. “No. I’m not scared. Just…”

“Just what, Princessa?”

“Just the first time he’s left me since we met. I”m okay. Just… he’s safety.”

“An anxiety attack. It’s okay. You sure you don’t want me to take you to him? I will. Taza’s dealt with a lot worse that you wanting to be near him.” Hank cracked a small smile. 

“I’m sure. You’re safety too.” She reached out to touch his shoulder. 

“Okay. I like that.” He patted her hand and stood. “Let’s go eat something and drop this stuff off for my mom, okay. Then you can decompress a bit at the ranch.”

He took her to a food truck in town and ordered them both tacos which they sat on the curb to eat. She sat close to him and he watched as she slowly relaxed with him in public. By the end of their meal her smile was back and as long as he was the only person close to her - he shoulders relaxed too. 

At the pharmacy, he dropped his mother’s prescriptions off and spoke with the man behind the counter while she looked at the makeup on the aisle nearest him. Just out of arms reach in the small store. 

Hank realized that she didn’t have makeup on. He didn’t think he had seen her with it on at all. When he finished at the counter, he joined her in the aisle. “See anything you need?”

She laughed. “Nah. I don’t even know what half this shit is. I occasionally use eyeliner and mascara. The rest of this shit is a complete mystery to me.”

Hank chuckled. “Okay, Princessa. You ready to do get changed for the party?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

At the ranch, Megan asked “How much time until we need to be at the party?”

“We’ve got about three hours or so. Vicki’s is about twenty minutes from here, so we don’t have far to drive.”

“Oh good. Do you think Taza would mind me going to see the horse?” She played with the ends of her braid.

“Nah. He won’t mind. Want company?” Hank was slightly eager to see her in her element. Taza has mentioned how happy and relaxed being around the animals made her.

“Sure.”

They went out the back door and Megan made for the fence to the pasture. Once there she climbed up to sit on the top rail facing the horses in the distance. Hank braced his folded arms next to her and didn’t speak. He just left her to relax for a few minutes.

After a while the buckskin Rocket wandered over to investigate them. He recognized Megan’s scent and nuzzled her knee with his nose. It was like a switch flipped. Megan completely relaxed as soon as she touched the horse. She petted him contentedly and smiled softly.

As she petted, she started talking. “Back home - everyone rides. I was the odd one out at twelve years old and never having been on a horse before. My last foster home had horses and part of my chores was caring for them. My foster brother was a rodeo rider and decided that he’d rather not pay a warm-up rider to keep his horse warm between events. His solution was to throw me on his giant horse to ride between events when he was supposed to be watching me.” She started braiding a bit of the horse’s dark mane. “He was too busy trying to score with the barrel racers to watch me, so some of the older cowboys taught me to ride between their events. It got to the point where they were actively using me as an exercise rider too and would slip me money for the concession stand and stuff. A few years later I met Terry. He was looking for a girl to ride a horse he had bought in barrel racing. He signed me to his team and I started making money at it so my foster parents let me keep at it until I emancipated when I graduated. Then Terry rented me out a tiny apartment in his barn loft until he had to sell the horses.”

Hank didn’t want to press her, but wanted to see how much she’d tell him. “Where’d you go after that?”

“A few rat hole apartments that I never actually saw much of because of my work schedule. I got by until I could start bartending. I missed riding though.”

Hank smiled. “I can tell. We’ll try to get Taza some time to take you out in the next few days.”

She laughed. “Not until I can buy a saddle that fits. Taza has two, but I’m too short for them. I’d look like a flea on an elephant’s ass.”

Hank snorted and it startled Rocket so that he pranced back off into the pasture. “Sorry, Princessa.”

She laughed at the young horse’s antics. “Nah. I need to go change. Now my jeans are covered in horse hair.”

Hank offered her a hand to help her balance as she climbed down and they headed back inside. “Take your time, Princessa. No rush.”

She slipped off to her room to wash up and change for work. When she finished she found Hank on the phone with Taza.

“Yes, brother, I fed her. We got tacos on the way to the pharmacy. She’s okay. She’s changing now. We went out to see the horses for a bit before she washed up so she’s happy as can be.” He paused as Taza obviously answered him. “We’ll head out that way when she’s ready. Don’t fuss. You sound like my grandmother. Yes, I’ll make sure of it. See you there.” He hung up.

“What are you making sure of?” she asked, laughing.

“That you wear long sleeves under your jacket. It gets chilly without the sun....” Hank turned to face her and froze.

“What? Do I need to change?” She self-consciously looked down at her dark washed jeans and Mayan green shirt. She had her new boots in her hand.

Hank snapped out of it and cleared his throat. “No, Princessa. You look great. You just… surprised me.”

She looked at him kind of funny. “Surprised you how?”

He reached out a cautious hand to brush her hair back over her shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair unbraided.”

“Oh! Yeah.” She held up her wrist to display a hair tie wrapped securely around it. “I needed to brush it out and it wouldn’t cooperate, so I’m hoping that Taza can braid it for me before my shift starts.”

“Ah.” His eyes were still captivated by her long hair as the light from the window caught it just right to pick up all the colors in the dark strands.

She smiled and sat down to put her boots on. Her hair fell back over her shoulders as she bent over and Hank suddenly realized that there wasn’t a solid back to the shirt. From just below her shoulder blades to her collar was a cut out that had been filled in with soft white lace. He could see colors moving on her skin before the lace, but they weren’t bruises this time. That was definitely a tattoo.

“You’re inked?” he smiled.

“Yep. Was my graduation present to myself.” She tied bother her boots and smiled up at him again.

“What is it? I can see the colors, but can’t make out the design.” He tilted his head for a better look and she giggled.

“The colors are starting to fade, so I’ll have to go to y’alls tattoo artist for a touch up when I can afford it.” She turned her back to him and guided the hair out of his way.

Through the delicate lace he could make out the basic shape of the tattoo that sat directly between her shoulder blades. The colors were just a wash of watercolor blending in a rainbow. “Is it a dreamcatcher?”

“Mmmhmm”

“Bet that watercolor hurt like a bitch over your spine.”

She laughed. “It did. And now I gotta do it again to get it touched up.”

“You do realize that we have a chair at the club house for a reason, right?” It was Hank’s turn to surprise her.

“Yeah? Who’s your artist?”

Hank chuckled and decided to play with her a little more. “Well mine is a guy from another club who we ally with. Everyone else’s is me.”

Her eyes widened slightly and she laughed a little, “You? DId you do Taza’s?”

“A few. His forearm piece he already had when we met, but I did the tribal stuff on his other arm.”

“Wow! I love his shoulder piece.”

Hank smiled. “Once you settle in, I’ll touch up your ink for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You ready to head out? We’ll be a little early, but Taza is already on his way there.”

“Sure. Let me grab my flannel so he doesn’t get onto you for my lack of long sleeves.” She smiled impishly and grabbed the blue and green plaid flannel shirt she'd been wearing when they met so that they could head out to the party at the brothel.

[hellothere-generalangsty]

Gloved hand (Crosshair)

Summary: Crosshair found a way to get rid of his chip, and went looking for his brothers in the depot, fully aware of the confrontation that would follow.

No pairing or reader description, only the member of the Batch

Word count: 2761

CW/TW: ANGST; Death, trauma, guilt, violent memories/ nightmares, burns/scar, some swearing; I don’t know how graphic my style is, so if I forgot anything please tell me!

Tags: @allamarisss @loth-wolffe @imalovernotahater (you all asked 🤧)

@razena88 @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s (non of you asked but I thought you'd want to check it out since you reacted to my Crosshair post; if you don't want to be tagged just tell me and I'll remove it !)

Notes: I had to. Because you’re all nice and I love pain, so here is the Sad Hour: Crosshair Edition™; Enjoy! (aka, I hope you’ll suffer a bit)

PS: sorry about the little dots when I skip a line, it’s the only way I could well...skip a line. I’ll try to find another way for the future!

PPS: The Neighbourhood - Roll Call is the song I listened to while writing this 🤭

______________________________________

He knew they were waiting on him, on the move he would make. They didn’t know about his chip being removed – not yet – and he knew he only had one shot.

How ironic.

He was still wearing the Imperial armour, face covered by his helmet, rifle attached to his back. He could see the way Hunter tightened his fingers around the trigger, and he recognised that look; the one he usually gave to his opponents before he killed them. He could get away; Hunter was a good shooter and his senses did helped for that; but Crosshair was the marksman. He guessed by a simple look at the scenery that the shot would crush through his pectoral plates, and given the distance and the type of blaster, it would surely shake him out, but it wouldn’t kill him.

As much as he sucked at it, he had to resort to words. He wasn’t the Empire’s puppet anymore, and trying once again to threaten them…It was simply out of the question.

Slowly, he raised his hands to his helmet, grabbing the lower part of it. He waited a second, not sure about the short moment where his vision would be obstructed.

Come on, you don’t get to worry about getting shot. Take the damn bucket off.

He pushed it up his head, briefly closing his eyes as a ridiculous way to sooth his morbid thoughts. When he opened them up again, Hunter hadn’t moved an inch. He didn’t know how much time he had, so Crosshair dared to take a step forward. Then another, holding his helmet in one hand, keeping the other one on the plastoid covering his chest, gently taping it with a gloved finger.

He stopped at the fourth step. The Batchers tensed up, unsure of what his next move would be. Crosshair knew what he was doing.

T’s your time to shine, Cross.

“DC-17. Round it down to a 7 meters distance from the target, slightly move your arm to your left.” He taped on a small spot of his chest plate, never breaking eye contact with Hunter. “Make me proud.”

It was a bold move, he knew it too damn well. He forced himself to maintain eye contact with them, with him, as much as it scared the crap out of him. As much as he hoped, deep down, for his brother to take pit-

.

 It was quick, bright. Finger pressed against the trigger, Hunter noticed every wave in the sound of the shot as it echoed in the depot. He followed the blue deflagration as it got spit out of his blaster, sliding the air in a thin whistling, brushing past Crosshair’s left arm, hitting another clone further behind.

He didn’t know if it was the right decision; but he knew enough about Crosshair to try it.

“I said ‘to your left’” was the only thing that came out of Crosshair’s mouth as he turned his head to look at the man lying on the floor a few meters behind him. He wasn’t dead, and now they had to quickly evacuate.

But Cross was alive. For now.

“Tech, get in there and be ready to take off when I tell you to! Wrecker, you cover us. Crosshair.”

The sniper pulled out his own blaster, back turned to the Batchers, ready to shoot any intruder trying to rip him away from his family once again. He soon felt a firm hand grasping his shoulder and dragging him back. He didn’t fight it, didn’t look at it. His focus was on the men running in the depot, on the way he hit them with such precision it almost felt too easy.

He was the last one to get in the Havoc Marauder, still shooting as the door closed shut in front of him.

.

 “…Crosshair?”

His heart pounded so hard in his chest that for a moment, he thought it might go through the plastoid armour and crush against the wall. There was the next move. So easy to execute, yet so terrifying.

“Crosshair, look at us.”

It was the tone; too formal, almost polite. He hated it. But he obeyed anyway, slowly turning around to face his tattooed brother.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down and cut that crap.

Hunter remained silent for a moment, examining Crosshair’s face scarred by burns, his new shaved side and white patch on the side of his head. The violent pumping and barely shaky breath told him more than the stoic eyes he was staring at.

“How’d you do it?”

“A droid helped.” Hunter’s nod was the only answer he got.

Keep talking, di’kut.

“I-”

“I missed you.” confessed Wrecker. “I think we all did.”

Now it was his turn to nod. What could he possibly answer? ‘I missed you too, but mostly because my chip made me want to kill you.’?

You didn’t wanted it, you had no choice.

“You didn’t have a choice,” Echo got a bit closer to him, even though he couldn’t tell if it was a good idea. “We know you didn’t.”

“Now that you removed your chip, you’re out of risks.” commented Tech, trying to comfort him a bit.

Each second passing was getting him closer to the edge. He wasn’t looking at faces, he was looking at phantom targets, still feeling the stings stabbing his brain every time he hesitated before shooting at them. Their voices were hardly getting to him, they were so distant, probably a faint memory from a time where he still had control.

“…get you something to eat, and you’ll go take a shower. Works for you?”

“Yes, Sarge.”

He knew the small clap on his shoulder was more of a friendly kind than a brotherly one. He hated it. He deserved it.

.

.

 He never felt that uncomfortable while eating with someone before. Even lunches on Kamino’s cantina weren’t as awkward. Tech tried to initiate a small talk, mentioning their next mission, the supplies they would need to get, and Omega tried to keep him going by nodding and asking questions he knew were useless.

But really, it was just an excuse to avoid the talk. Given the situation, it would probably hurt less to just… confront him. Tell him he scared them, when he callously ordered Hunter to stand down and surrender, told his troopers to “aim for the kid”. Not that he didn’t know; he found the confession in their eyes every time they would look at him.

He barely ate, rolling a fresh toothpick between his gloved fingers as he weakly chewed on his food.

“I’ll take the first round tonight,” Hunter muttered, mostly for himself.

Crosshair slowly got up from his seat, putting his ration away, trying to avoid the stares. He slid his toothpick between his lips, nibbling a bit harder than usual on the wooden texture. All he had to do was turn around and leave the cockpit. He had done it countless time by the past, what’s one more?

He wanted to lay down and sleep his pain away, get drowned in the pillows and forget all about what happened. He took a few steps, pretended he didn’t flinch when a hand caught his own, but couldn’t bring himself to smile at Omega when she gently rubbed his knuckles.

She didn’t say anything, she simply followed him to the bunk beds. Crosshair could barely look at her, because every time he did he could only see the scared look she gave him when he ordered it.

Aim for the kid.

It was haunting; she was just a child, a mixture of a little sister and a daughter for the Batchers, and he tried to rip that away from them too.

His attention shifted to the beds when he noticed the lights around his. He could also see a glimpse of a plush – oddly familiar – and a soft blanket nicely pulled over the mattress.

“We – she needed a place to sleep, and you were gone so…”

Wrecker, who followed him too, was uncomfortable; he was the one who came up with the idea. As much as he missed Crosshair, he knew he needed to take care of his little one because she was here. But now, Cross was back.

“Keep the bed,” he murmured, “I don’t mind.”

And he meant it. He would have done the same if Wrecker, or Echo or whoever went missing like he had. The kid deserved a comfy place to rest, her life with them already being chaotic enough.

“I can sleep with you, I don’t mind. I can stay at the end of the bed if you’d prefe-”

“It’s fine, Omega.”

He painted a weak, yet gentle smile on his face, hoping for it to convince her. It did, because she nodded and held his arm against her for a few seconds as to hug it. Wrecker – and Echo later that night – offered him to sleep in their bed. “I can sleep with Tech if you want it all for yourself” the 501st vet assured him. But Crosshair declined each time, pretending that he would probably not sleep anyway tonight, just tonight, because he needed to get used to this place again.

In a way, it was true. He needed time to find his footing here, to get back to the way things used to be.

Don’t pretend it will go back to ‘how it used to be’. It could never.

.

 When everyone headed to bed, Hunter returned to the cockpit and found the sniper sitting on his own.

“I’ll take the first round, Crosshair. Go get some sleep.”

“I don’t have a bed,” he barely confessed, his usual sarcastic tone nowhere to be found.

“Take mine for now, I don’t need it before a few hours. Don’t discuss it,” he pursued when Crosshair tried to reply, “I’m not giving you a choice.”

It took him a second to realise how clumsy it sounded, but Crosshair spared him the embarrassment of an apology when he got up and nodded.

“Alright, sorry.”

Hunter grabbed his shoulder, unsure about his next move, but trying anyway.

“It’s…We can’t pretend nothing happened, but we’ll work through this. All of us,” and when he heard Crosshair’s heart pumping harder and his breath getting heavier, he added, “as a family.” Before letting go of him.

Crosshair couldn’t even speak anymore. If he tried, all that would come out would be confused babbling and an awkward throat clearing. He hoped on his brother’s heightened senses to read through him like an open book, throwing back one last look before he got back to the bunk beds. All the Batchers were already sleeping, peacefully wrapped in their blankets or holding their plushie against their chest. He sat on the edge of Hunter’s bed, his blacks still on, eyes locked on the soft lights emanating from his old bed.

.

 Hunter woke up when he felt a soft weight landing on his lap. The smell got him almost immediately, a mixture of gunpowder and iron.

“You should have surrendered.”

His eyes shifted to the slim shadow standing a few steps away, lurking on him with cold determination.

“Crosshair?” He looked down at the soft plush laying on him. Lula. Her head was almost ripped in half by a now barely fuming hole. He couldn’t hide the fear splashing his eyes, neither could he refrain his voice from breaking when he asked “what did you do?”

“I did what had to be done. This is why they put me in charge to track you. I’m efficient.”

Hunter shivered at the sick smile he could hear in Crosshair’s voice. His thoughts ran from the plush to Omega, to the bunk beds at the end of the hallway, to his brothers left unarmed at the mercy of a sniper who had none.

“You should have killed me in that depot.”

“Crossha-”

A quick thud filled the cockpit as a red, bright light stroked Hunter right through the chest. He fell back into his seat, unable to breathe, but way too aware of the burn on his skin, of the nerves flaming up under the chock and the heat, of his heart rapidly pulsing then slowing down in a macabre countdown. He got dizzy, eyes blurring out despite his desperate attempt to get them focused.

He struggled to keep his head up, until a gloved hand grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look up. He could guess the shapes of the helmet, the green and grey shades melting altogether as his eyes barely held open. As he felt his own heart stop, his last breath making him chock, he heard his brother’s voice taunting him, one last time.

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

.

.

  Pitch black. This is all Crosshair could see when he abruptly opened his eyes. The blanket was rolled up at his feet, his blacks soaked in sweat, and his head aching. A sudden terror grasped him as he held his temple, tripping off the bed as he tried to get up, muttering Hunter’s name. He choked up on the syllables when he realised he was sleeping in his brother’s bed, while the tracker was nowhere to be found. He found himself struggling for air, the same way he would if someone stabbed him repeatedly in the chest. He dragged himself to the refresher, locking the door as soon as he got in.

The bright light forced him to close his eyes for a few seconds, but once he got used to it he reached the tap. His hands, usually so precise and steady, where uncontrollably shaking, to the point of him getting cramps.

The cold water did nothing to help; he shivered to the wet contact, lightly gasping when he splashed his face, but did it again, and again, trying to wash off the pain of his body.

Did I killed them? Did I? What if I did, what will I do, what if I killed them, I can’t- I can’t lose them, not again, not this way, I-

His head was buried in his hands, and it demanded all his strength for him to look up in the mirror. He quickly regretted doing so.

He hated those scars. Mostly, what they represented, what they meant.

It means you tried to get them burned alive; you ordered for them to be burned alive by an active propeller. This is what they mean, this is what you did.

He hated his reflection, lurking and haunting him the same way his memory did. A phantom pain none of them could imagine.

You like to pretend they don’t get it, but they do. Their own brother tried to kill them. You did that, Crosshair; don’t put the blame on your victims.

“Kriff,” he bitterly chuckled, tears burning his eyes.

You did this to yourself. Take some responsibilities.

He tried to maintain eye contact with himself, fingers gripped so tight around the edge of the sink he could feel his muscles quiver. He didn’t have a choice, he knew that. The chip forced him, the Empire used him to do these terrible things.

If a gloved hand kills you, will you blame the glove, or the hand?

You’re the hand, Crosshair. Nothing you will ever say or do will change that.

Nothing.

“Shut the kriff up,” he gave up, angrily pushing himself away from the sink, but still catching a glimpse of tears running down his cheeks before he turned his head, defeated. “Keep the snide to yourself.”

He jolted when someone softly knocked on the door. He took a few deep breaths to calm down his pumping heart, wiped away the tears with the back of his hand, and opened the door.

“I didn’t find you in the bed,” Hunter explained while analysing his expression, “I thought you’d be in here.”

“I can take the next round.” Crosshair calmly responded.

“Mine’s not done yet.”

“Hunter, please I- let me take the next round.”

He couldn’t say which of the two, his muffled “please” or his begging eyes, convinced Hunter; but it worked and that was enough for him. He didn’t flinch this time, when his brother gently patted his arm; he even wished for a quick, warm embrace. But he doubted Hunter was ready to get affectionate with him so easily. Truth be told, he didn’t feel that comfortable either. It was a crave he couldn’t fill.

He still cracked a weak smile as Hunter nodded and returned to his bed to get some rest.

Crosshair dragged himself to the cockpit, his stomach twisting at the sight of the empty seat on his right. He fell into his own, a long sigh slipping from his lips.

.

Don’t fall asleep.