#maybe well get up to 25 chapters?

[freakshowtwopointoh]

might fuck around and add more chapters to the toxic!jordan fic

[keen-li]

All Aisle Ever Need 01 | jjk

chapter: 1/ ?

summary: You decide to take a risk and sign up for a program where you marry a complete stranger. You’re surprisingly okay with the idea—excited, even—though the occasional nerves still creep in. This could either be the best or worst decision of your life. Still, the mystery of it all feels thrilling, and you've made peace with not knowing the man you’re about to marry. No matter who he is, you’re ready to go through with it.

But on your wedding day, as you walk down the aisle, something makes you squint. There’s something familiar about the man standing at the altar. And then it hits you… you know him. You've made promises to yourself before, so many of them broken. This won't be any different...shit.

pairing: Jungkook x fem reader.

story type: series.

Genre: exes to lovers, second chance au, right person wrong timing, lack of communication, forced proximity, slow burn, angst, fluff, smut.

rating: m. Mdni

wordcount: 8.2k+

warnings for chapter: troubled parental dynamics/figures. It's implied that they are both grown, Jungkook is older than reader(the age is subjective). cussing. found family. none really from here on.

A/n: though of this whilst watching MAFS. i've been in a burnout and this got me out of it?. please don't ask me if it's a happy ending story(i'm not saying it is or is not.) I just feel if you ask me that then you're not really interested in the story.

anyways I hope you enjoys it.

date: 25/04/25

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story under cut.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You've always bought the same type of clothes, jewellery, produce as well. Why would you need anything else when you enjoy what you have.

And maybe that’s why you’re in the position you’re in now.

You should’ve been smarter and known that emptiness would follow you soon enough.

 If you had taken the leap sooner--stepped out of the one-way route to love--you’d already be where you’re trying to force yourself now.

You would’ve realised that maybe what you’re looking isn’t in the men you find pleasure in.

You'd be getting married conventionally, and not having to sign up for some program.

Comfort comes cause the type of man you want is hard to find. He’s either already married or behind his desk overworking himself.

There is a little ego-death, just a little. Having to confront yourself on the type of man you want when you're at your limit is humbling. It should be something you know about yourself already.

You're not best at caring of yourself of late. When was the last time you had a self-care? You're still alive so it's fine.

Just like your type; you've been stuffing yourself behind your desk any chance you get.

But before your wedding you swear you’ll have a day to care for yourself. Physically at least.

You’ve been shaking your head for coming to this point, but your solace is in hope.

Putting your chance at love in someone else’s hands—someone trained, someone professional—might actually be the smartest move you’ve made in terms of relationships. That way, your own traits that have gotten you nowhere won’t come into play.

None of your past relationships have ever seen daylight because of how dumb you end up feeling for indulging in them, for believing they could be more.

They could never see the sun, let alone could they see the conversation of marriage.

You’ve tried to bring up the topic of marriage, and immediately they turn it down or change the subject. After that, you never bring it up again.

Honestly, after experiencing enough of that, you quit on the idea of commitment. Maybe you were stupid for wanting that.

What does marriage have that you can’t get from a simple relationship bound by an unstable verbal agreement.

You could definitely survive on that, right?

That’s what past you got by saying to herself.

You gave up on getting attached. It was just hook up and get out. None of them ever wanted anything serious, so you became that too. But it was never fulfilling, you thought that would be your answer. But it's not who you are.

You went on and it wasn’t long until you felt the emptiness of it all. And you had enough.

But still, somehow you still got stuck with the bro type. You'd like to blame lust but your therapist would like to blame your fear of being alone. You get her point but you don't think it fits your case well. You've never felt lonely or been afraid of it.

Anyways, you’ve dealt with that type for so long and you conclude if was just lust.

So, many of the guys following your frontal lobe development, have told you that you were too much. But all that meant to you was you knew what you wanted and they were not in the same frame. You have goals.

Now you want something serious and someone serious too. Someone who knows what they want and where they want to be in the future. Someone who’s going to have a plan immediately they see you. Because you do.

“I have to tell you guys something.” You clear your throat calling for your friend's attention.

Taehyung's head snaps to you. Jisoo on the other hand meets you with her eyes first.

You’d been hanging out normally, just chatting, laughing and catching up.

No moment was perfect enough to say what you wanted to, so you waited. But you’d been laughing and getting carried away with connected stories that the moment was not getting perfect enough.

For a moment you contemplated procrastinating the news. But if you procrastinated this any further you’d end up having no one at the venue.

So, being presented with the opportunity when a silence settled. It was now or never.

You want lie that it’s excitement, but there’s nothing exciting about the dryness in your throat.

You watch taehyung, seated on a stool elbows leaning against your island, and Jisoo standing next to you, walking from the fridge to the sink. Shit you have their attention.

That’s what you wanted. Speak.

You’ve been friends with Taehyung the longest because you were at the same high school, and you met Jisoo in university because you were in the same dorm and happened to be doing the same program. You all got along as a group and stayed that way. So, being there for each other through most life events, you have to tell them no matter how nervous you are.

And knowing them, what you’re about to say is far from  what they expect.

Due to the serious and nervous undertone in your voice, they stare at you closely, inspecting your awkward tucking in of lips. Normally, Taehyung would be quick to say something witty about your behaviour, but he’s silent, only making you more nervous.

You release your lips and suck in a breath. “Okay... promise not to judge?” You warn, watching them both, but focusing more on Taehyung.

“What the fuck are you 'bout to say?” He narrows his eyes at you like he does when investigating you about a boyfriend. Does he think that’s what you’re about to say?

“You’re not going to judge?” You ask once more for good measure but it serves to irritate them. You chuckle like it’s amusing. Nothing is amusing, not after you tell them.

“At this point, we will.” Jisoo exclaims with a laugh, and Taehyung follows.

"Yeah, we might just."

Feeling the non-existent pressure on your neck, you pull your mouth open. “Fine.” You mumble to yourself for encouragement. There’s no going back; you’ve already told them there is something to be said. “I’m getting married.” It comes out quick and rushed, if they hadn’t known you like they do it could’ve been sworn you had just spoken gibberish.

They look confused. Do you repeat yourself?

You probably shouldn’t have started it that way. You could’ve started with  explaining  the program. Cause now they think you’ve lost your mind.

The two stare at your empty ring finger, then at each other, and then back to you, hoping you’ll clarify with a mocking laughter at their foolishness.

“What?” you say fumbling with the finger. They look at you like you’ve finally lost your last marble.

“To who?” They thunder in unison, confusion dripping from each syllable.

The reaction doesn’t shock you, and you don’t judge the question either. But little do they know you’ve been wondering the same thing as well.

“Well, I don’t know that part, but...” you feel a little ashamed to say it because they will think you’re definitely crazy now. You’ve never been the type to do something like this. They knew you wanted to get married, but not this much.

“Do we need to get you on medication?” you're not on any medication but the words still spill out of Jisoo’s mouth with concern and shock.

Your news has, Taehyung sitting up with folded arms, his eyebrows knit so hard they could touch.

“You barely have a boyfriend, what do you mean marriage, babes?” You turn your head away from Taehyung’s eyes. This is embarrassing.

It’s true for them it’s quite the jump, but if you could just explain yourself...

“You're hiding a boyfriend?”

A boyfriend? it’s comical.

After your nervous laughter dies down, you elaborate. “No. I signed up for this thing where you get married to a stranger.” You explain, your hands waving as you speak. It’s something you always do when you’re defending yourself.

As you process the words to use, you realise it does sound not like you. You’d definitely react like the same. “It’s called Married at First Sight.”

“Wow.” Is all that you get back. What the hell do you do with that?

“I got picked, which means I’m getting married.”

“To a random guy?”

 You nod, lips folding again.

Telling your friends makes all this feel so real. You still can’t believe you signed up for this, let alone that you got picked. Something in you hoped you wouldn’t get picked because 1. what are the odds? And 2. maybe if you didn’t get picked, it would be a sign from the universe that you should just sit your ass down.

Your fingers fumble with the marble of your counter. As much as you’ve seen their reaction, you still don’t know what they think and it's making you feel more embarrassed. If they don’t support you or want you doing this, what the hell would you do? What if they think it’s stupid. “What do you think? You’re making me nervous.”

“I mean—how do you feel?”

“I’m okay." You scoff. “But I’m going into this so blind. And I kind of hate the feeling. But it’s nice to have the weight of finding a match out of my hands.” But having the control out of your hands is not like you, so that’s where the nerves are coming from as well. Cause what if they don’t give you what you want?

“Why’d you sign up, though? could’ve set you up with this guy I know.”

You appreciate your friends setting you up on blind dates; you really do. But they never go well, which is not on them but more on the guys. Surface level, they look like a match for you, but mentally and emotionally, they couldn’t be further from what you want. Maybe you need to look deeper than the superficial, which is honestly what this program is doing for you.

“Those don’t go well for me. You know that.” They do.

Did you mention that Jisoo is engaged? You’ve never seen her happier. She wasn’t even this happy when she graduated.

And you want that too. You’ve always thrown yourself into school and work to suffice for the love you weren’t able to feel. And growing up you always relied on academic validation. But it could only carry you so far after you hit every milestone and still felt nothing. The only thing that came close were the relationships. Situationships.

“You really want to do this?” jisoo coos.

“it’s not so bad to try"

“If they give you what you want.” Taehyung intersects.

You hope they do. “I wrote in detail, so they better.”

You have no clue what criteria they go by, but it couldn't be something contrary to your asks.

You get excited thinking of the perfect man for you standing at the end of the aisle. Like, gosh, you’re going to be so happy. Your stomach flutters already.

“They probably know what I need though.”

“Yeah. But you still want the basics, like—” Jisoo doesn’t even have a chance to finish when you cut in.

“Oh yeah... tall, smart, a man with a plan type of thing.” You feel so childish for being so excited about this. But it’s more about the excitement of having the perfect man for you. You try not to picture his physical appearance because you might end up disappointed if you linger on it for too long.

Taehyung and Jisoo smile, listening to how excited you are. If you’re happy, they are too; that’s all they care about. That what what think of and not that this is the most conventional way to go about it.

Returning to your cooking, you decide to dig more into their thoughts. “What do you guys think I need?”

Feeling experienced, Taehyung takes the lead to share. He’s heard and seen a fair share of your crushes and boyfriends and how it's ended, so he feels like he knows what you’d like. “Definitely a business-style, you know. Sleek back hair, tall, nerdy.”

“Is that what I give off?” You chuckle a brow raised. Embarrassed. You've definitely grown into that assumption.

You do. You’ve always been the academic type and Taehyung’s parents always trashed him for not being like you. Even though he wasn’t even a bad student. You always made him look bad. But that's all to say you’re smart and a work focused person,  so you need a man who is the same.

You also like to be control. Whether that’s knowing all the tiny details of an event, or planning all the trips. As much as he benefits from it, Taehyung is definitely sure you use it as a coping mechanism for something.

“You need someone who can take control.” He adds.

"But still obsessed with her." Jisoo chirps in and Taehyung couldn't nod harder.

It would be nice to have someone to do things with. But an obsessed man? You're not sure. You want him to love you but shouldn't be too overbearing.

“I feel crazy for doing this.” You bite your lower lip, letting your worries out a little. “Like I’m seriously going to get married to a stranger.” You believe it less the more you say it.

“It’s not the conventional way, but you know we’ll be there for you no matter what.” You warm into Jisoo’s rub on your back. You’re trying to mask your true nerves with excitement; you doubt it’s fully working, but you’re trying. “As long as you’re happy And he makes you happy.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Taehyung promises, sounding more like a threat to your groom.

You seem serious about it and it must be if you got picked. So the only power he has is to be there for you as a friend. Its honestly not such a bad thing, if he wanted to get married he'd think of doing it like this too. It more thrilling.��And there’s nothing Taehyung loves more than thrill.

Having your friends feels comforting, and it’s all you need. Really. But with how serious this is, you’re going to have to call your family soon, and you’re not ready for that. The idea raise the bile in you.

Unlike your friends, you have no clue how they’ll feel. You haven’t spoken to them in a while but the last thing they’d be thinking to hear from you is marriage. The last you remember none of them thought you were marriage material.

It's out of courtesy that you’re even telling them. But no matter what they say, you’ve already been picked, and you are getting married.

“it's still crazy though.” this isn't how he imagined this going. But he should be the last person calling you crazy when it’s the only thing he knows. But you get it; it’s out of your character to do something like this. But who knows you could find what you’re looking for outside of your comfort zone. It’s not 100%, but you’re ready to take that risk. “Imagine you marry an ex...”

Taehyung is not helping soothe you. The thought has crossed your mind before.

“Don’t scare me,” you brush off the thought with a hand on your chest, and they both can’t help but laugh. It would be so funny if you walked down the aisle and it was one of your stupid exes. Gosh... you’d walk out immediately, no question. “Don't think they would be serious enough for marriage.” They’re all probably out there still being reckless and whatever.

“What if he doesn’t like something that you like?”

“Don’t know" you chuckle "But I’d be damned if he doesn’t want to listen to my playlists.”

“Ouu, he’d be a gone man if he didn’t like your mugs too.” You know Jisoo’s being sarcastic; for some reason, everyone dislikes your mugs. The designs specifically. But you like them, so he would be damned if he didn’t like them.

“I mean, we have 3 months until we decide whether we want to be together or not....”

“Would you want to get divorced?”

You don’t even want to think of that. Divorce is not something you think about or want to think about. You know how much you hate it and how it affects children. You don’t have kids with the man, but still, you just hate divorce. It feels too much like failure.

“I hope not, but if he’s completely unreasonable, then I’ll have no choice.” You wouldn’t want to fight for something that bears no fruit. But you pray that’s not going to be the case. It shouldn't be too bad.

“I just want to like him, and I hope he likes me too. I would want this to work out.” You stare blankly at your hands. “I don’t know if I’d be able to look for love again after this.”

You’re being to dramatic but that’s because this feels like all you have.

“In that case, let’s pray he’s the one.”

You all go quiet for a second. The pot on the stove starts to bubble.

“This is real,” you murmur.

And somehow, that thought is both terrifying—and thrilling.

--

“Namjoon, what do you think?” He’s the only one who’s been quiet about what just came out of jungkook’s mouth.

It’s not the idea of Jungkook getting married to a stranger that’s concerning (Though that’s its own thing.) It’s more about the idea of Jungkook getting married in general.

“I mean—do what makes you happy. It’s not the conventional way...” Namjoon begins, and Jungkook can’t help but roll his eyes at how serious his friend is being. He’s not surprised, though; Namjoon has always been the more serious and mature one between the two. Unlike Jungkook, Namjoon has always known what to do and when to do it. He is the kind of guy with structure, but Jungkook, on the other hand, is more of the go-with-the-flow kind of person.

He does things on a whim, reckless with who he goes out with. Relationships have always been fun for him; he never took them seriously. That was until he sat with himself and looked around. All of his friends were settling down and were not available to go out. One was having a child, the other was getting married, and standing at the altar as a groomsman so often, had him worried about what he was doing.

He watched his friends fall in love and be so happy; he wanted that too. Could he have it too? The bro lifestyle he was living was not going to give him that.

He hid behind hookups so much that he hadn’t realized he did want to settle down, find a nice woman, and live that picture-perfect life, he saw his parents have.

And it was time for that. So, by chance and through his coworker, he stumbled upon this program and signed up.

He wasn't going to get picked, so it wouldn’t be so bad if he did try.

He never had much hope in it; like, how would some experts know from a form who to pair him up with? It was a scam to him. His plan was to go out and meet ladies the usual way, but even they didn’t see him so seriously; he was just a hookup to them too. It did hurt him. But honestly, they weren’t wife material anyway.

Jungkook has always liked doing stuff that people would call crazy; it made him happy. So being told that a match was found and he was going to get married to a stranger didn’t make him nervous at all—if you exclude the seriousness of marriage though.

“Come on, hyung...”

“I wouldn’t put this past you, so I’m not surprised. I’m just worried if you’re ready for this. I don’t think you realize how serious it is.”

It’s not shocking that Namjoon stares at Jungkook with such distrust; he himself doesn’t trust himself fully. But he wants to. Because how can a wife trust him if he doesn’t?

 Nothing will convince him or others that he is serious and growing, other than through actions. And that’s what he intends to do. Namjoon may not trust him now, but when he sees how serious he is, he will.

“I’ve grown, hyung, don’t you think?” Jungkook sips his beer, staring at his friend. Having this conversation at a bar may not have been the best, but it was the perfect moment to do so. Though jungkook has never cared about perfect timing.

Namjoon lets out a puff of air. He doesn’t want to seem like he’s not supportive. “You have, but this is a serious commitment, Kook.”

He doesn’t need to be told once more how serious this is; his brain can do that just fine.

 “I know. But I’ve reached that point where I want to settle down. I’m ready to get serious.” It’s definitely something he never thought he would say. “I want to show that I can be serious, you know? I want to be like you, Seokjin.”

He pats the man on his shoulder, and he can’t help but feel honored to be an inspiration. Seokjin was one of the first to get married and is now expecting a child. Jungkook envies that—the ability to feel stable enough to bring in another life. He wants to be stable too. Have a little mini him to play around with.

Who the hell has he become.

“I think it’s good you want to settle down, Koo. I just hope you’re doing this for the right reasons and not just to prove yourself,” the oldest begins. Seokjin doesn’t think he’s some wise man, but he can confidently say he has the most knowledge on this among all of them. He does support his friend and thinks it’s great he’s doing this, but something in him fears he’s in it for the wrong reasons. “I mean, it won’t only be you. You’re merging your life with someone else—someone you don’t know to add. I wouldn’t want you to drag her feelings into a journey of trying to prove yourself.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Because the truth is, part of him doesn’t know truly why he’s doing this. And not knowing is something he hates nowadays.

This is where Jungkook’s second thoughts root even further. He fears that—fears dragging someone along into his flawed perception of self. But it’s not what this is about, and even though he doesn’t mention it, he does want to find someone to love and someone to give the love he hasn’t been able to give his past lovers.

“I get what you’re saying, hyung, and I promise that’s not the case. I do want to care for the person too.”

Seokjin nods, taking a sip of his drink. “That’s good. You are growing,” he mocks, and they all laugh.

“The not knowing what’s ahead is a little off putting, I’ll be honest.” Jungkook doesn’t stare at his friends but rather analyses every bubble of air in his drink that rises to the surface. They rise fast, then disappear. Like everything he used to think love was.

“Do you think you can do it?”

“I think I can... I want to.” He finally looks up to stare at nothing in particular.

“The first step is the commitment, so if you have that, then you’re good.” Jungkook nods; he should probably be taking notes on what Seokjin is saying. “Oh, Namjoon, you’re going to be the only single one.” They all laugh, but Namjoon only chuckles.

“It’s scary how you’re still single.” His friends see him as the perfection of what a woman wants: tall, smart, a man who knows what he wants. It’s all what women describe, but still, the tall silver-haired man has never taken dating seriously, nor does he hook up. It’s concerning.

“It’s because I want to,” he replies, taking a drink of his beer. And that’s all they’ll ever get from him.

“So what are you looking for, Koo?”

They shouldn’t even get him started on this. He’s never really known because he’s never really thought about it. But of late, the answers have been coming in like ants—tiny but a lot. “Um, just someone outgoing, you know... likes to have fun.” He won’t burden them with all he’s been thinking because some are just stupid stereotypes. “Someone who likes to go out and try new things, likes to have fun.”

“Jungkook? a party girl?.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes; maybe his previous preferences slip into his ideas of who he wants, which is not good. He wants something new, something he’s never had. Because what he’s had is not what he needs. So maybe this will be different.

“No... listen. I like going bowling and stuff like that, you know? So I hope she would want to do that with me.” He smiles, trying to defend himself. “When I get married, I’ll quit the club too.” The additional sentence causes a roar of laughter among his friends, drawing attention from other bar-goers. Seokjin does go out occasionally, but the difference (especially with his wife’s due date approaching) has been significant.

The laughter dies down.

“Look at him acting like he’s grown.”

“I am grown... I’m going to be a husband.” It’s surreal for him to say.

“She needs to be strong to handle you.”

“I’m not that bad..”

--

The most exciting thing about this whole thing is finding your dress. You’ve been looking at dresses for a long time so you would like to say you know what style you’re looking for, you’ve been thinking of this since you were in middle school so you should know. You’re grateful your taste has grown out of the poofy ballgown phase.

Cause of the context of the wedding you want something simple. Clean. Intentional.

 And Jisoo knew of the perfect store to go to.

Most women find their dress months in advance, but you’ve got a week. A week. So this has to be it. Today  should be the day.

Picking out the dress is the only part of this whole process that feels like you have control over, so you’re throwing yourself into it. And with that comes nitpicking. A lot of it.

You step out of the dressing room in your fourth gown and face the mirror. It’s a beautiful dress. You loved it on the rack. But now, wearing it, something’s... off.

“Why don’t i feel something?” you ask, running your hands down the dress draping your figure. You turn to your friends, looking for validation. “I’m supposed to feel it, right? Isn’t that a thing?” you aren’t sure if it was a myth, but you’ve heard that when you find the right one you’ll be able to feel it.

“You should.” Jisoo says gently, sitting up straighter at the sight of your face. She knows how sensitive this moment is for you. The time pressure, the stress, if you spiral now, it’s over. “What don’t you like about it?”

You stare at the mirror. Tilt your head. Bite your lip. Try to search for an answer.

“i don’t know i just dont feel like a bride in it.” You continue to feel over it trying to convince yourself but still nothing.

Maybe its cause you have no romantic connection with this man and hence you don’t feel like the conventional bride who can actually feel like she’s dress shopping with a purpose.

“Then we try another,” the stylist says with an encouraging smile.

You hope you don’t sound like a bridezilla because this is the fourth dress you’ve tried on and don’t like. Your stomach churns.

What if you don’t find one? What if you end up walking down the aisle in something you hate cause you weren’t able to find ‘the one’ in time. You can’t wear something that doesn’t feel like you. You’re not a person very particular about clothes but this is your wedding dress in question. It has to be perfect.

“Hey...” Jisoo comes to your side, her hand warm on your arm. You feel your shoulders drop just a little. “Don’t pressure yourself. We can come back tomorrow.”

You nod, but the thought makes your chest tighten. You don’t want to come back. You want to feel it now.

“Can I try a few more first? Just in case?”

“Of course,” she says, like she never had a doubt.

You head back into the dressing room. One more. Just one more.

Walking back into the dressing room and getting into another dress. You’re praying this will be the one or good enough at least.

“Fucking hell yn...” Taehyung whistles.

That’s new. He didn’t react like this for the others.

“You look so gorgeous babes.” Jisoo adds with a blushing smile as you walk onto the pedestal to finally see what they see.

The dress in terms of material feels great. It’s soft on your skin and it pours down your body like liquid. Without even looking at it you’d say you feel comfortable.

Once you take in your figure in the mirror, you can fel the tears sting the corner of your eyes. You definatlety feel it. You feel that feeling.

With the other dresses it felt like they were wearing you, but for this one, you’re definitely the one owning it.

“Gosh.. it’s almost too perfect to be marrying a stranger in.” You state still enamoured and not believing that the reflection is you.

“if this dude doesn’t cry or fall to his knees when he sees you i’ll beat his kneecaps in.” Taehyung expresses and when you look at him through the mirror you catch him tabbing a tissue at his eyes, jisoo too. Gosh now your tears are falling too.

“Come on guys.” You try to say through  a sniffle. “you’re making me cry.”

Sniffling and patting at your eyes with a tissue you try to collect yourself.

“on a serious note. You look gorgeous.” Taehyung says, folding the tissue in to his palm. “you look beautiful. I should’ve married you instead. This guy doesn’t deserve you.”

You choke out a laugh, knowing he’s joking. You and Tae never looked at each other like that.

“If we were getting married, I’d wear sweats. Jeans if I’m feeling fancy.”

“Ouch,” he gasps, clutching his chest. Jisoo snorts. “Is that all I am to you.” He’s way more than that. He’s everything you'd ever want to dream of in a friend.

“i hope this dude realises how much he’s won with you.” Jisoo says softly.

“If he has two eyes, he will otherwise we’ll fight.” Of course it’s tae saying that.

“Why do you hate him you barely know him.” you say causing the man to pull back in defence.

“I’m just setting boundaries.”

He’s always been protective. You can’t blame him.

“But how do you feel?” Jisoo asks.

You take a breath. Let the silence hold for a second. You take in the weight of the dress, the way it fits, the way it makes you feel like maybe this whole thing won’t be so terrible after all.

“i love it.” It comes out soft but it says all that’s needed to be said. “i think it’s the one.”

Cheers erupts in the room the room, and your heart feels light for the first time in days.

You laugh through your tears. “I’m gonna be a Mrs. Something.”

“I just hope he’s got a good last name, at least.” Taehyung grins.

You hope so too.

But that’s one of the many things you’re choosing not to think about. Not yet.

--

Jungkook has never woken up early for anything. And the last thing he ever thought he’d be waking up early for was his wedding.

“You ready for today?” Seokjin says bascally aready dressed while Jungkook walks around in his sweats.

“As ready as i can ever be.” His eyes don’t leave the suit hanging on the wall. Gosh how would he have found one if he didn’t have his friends.

“You sure? You’re too calm.”

“Not everyone’s gonna be in panic.” Namjoon chimes in.

Seokjin’s wedding morning was definitely chaotic cause of how the man panicked.

 Though at the time he never thought of it seriously, Jungkook worried that it was custom to panic like that and he’d panic too. But even still he feels too relaxed, last night’s drinks might have something to do with it. When Seokjin and namjoon had gone to sleep, and jungkook couldn’t, he's only solace was the liquor cabinet. He hopes it’s not obvious. Cause he can fool his friends but his mother might be able to catch it, no matter how hard he’s brushed his teeth.

“it’s good to atleast show some of your nerves.” Seokjin moves to the counter to pour some drinks. Jungkook gags at the smell of spirit. “You can’t be perfectly relaxed.”

Can’t he? It is possibe for him to not be worried about anything. He doesn’t have to be having doubts and fears for this to be real. He doesn’t.

“I’m fine.” He groans, rubbing his face and reaching  for the suit hanging on the door of his room. He's fine...so fine.

Seokjin doesn’t dig in deeper. And one thing the older does know is that no matter what, Jungkook must be feeling something and his silence about it might be proving what Seokjin thought. Thinks.

“Did you send the gift?” he turns to namjoon worried about one thing.

“Yeah.”

Jungkook wanted to make a good impression so he hopes the gift does some apologising if you’re able to notice he's fucked up face.

“Can you help me with my tie?” He knows how to do it. Has been doing it for school for so long. But for once he just wants to feel like she’s involved in something he's doing. Something positive.

The drooping look on her face is discouraging enough, but he tries.

“You’ve been doing it for so long. Do you really need my help?” She says not even looking at him, and yet again he feels the embarrassment.

Clearing his throat, he turns to do it himself but his dad replaces his hands. “I told you guys, you didn’t have to travel for this.” He says lifting his chin up a little for his dad.

He was fine with them not coming, and seeing that they lived so far away it would’ve been an inconvenience. And it’s not like its a wedding his mother would want to attend anyways; so he didn’t  want to waste their time.

He was perfectly fine with them not coming.

“it’s your wedding why wouldn’t we come?” His father says patting down the tie and arranging his collar. It's almost as if it’s his first day at school and his graduation again. He hopes he can do this for his son one day too.

In a whisper away from anyone else his father speaks. "I want you to enjoy today. And whoever she is I want you to give her your all. Love her more than you love yourself, more than you’ve ever loved anything.”

His eyes are sincere as the words are spoken. His father isn’t emotional so even that soft fall of his brows is a lot. And it’s all Jungkook can ask for. “She's gonna love you too, I know it. You’re a good kid.” He pats his shoulder.

He can cry...no. So he sniffles the waters away.

His father has always been a good husband. And that’s who he wants to be as well, no matter who he marries, no matter how difficult she could be.

His parents have been the ideal couple in his life for a long time. And that doesn’t change no matter what.

Everything is silent for a moment as jungkook sinks into what’s about to happen today. It’s only until a voice breaks his serenity.

“Namjoon!” his mother calls out playfully with a glass in her hands, she doesn’t even drink.

Namioon flinches and turns to her smiling awkwardly.  He's never known how to act around her. “When are you getting married? Sure there are so many woman dying to be hitched up to a perfect guy like you.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and tells namjoon he doesn’t have to answer.

But his mother won’t let that be.

“Not anytime soon Mrs jeon.”

The laugh she releases is sharp and demeaning. But it’s not directed to namjoon. “You see? People who wait to find a girl the right way.”

When Jungkook’s gaze meets hers, he has to remind himself she's the woman that birthed him.

“You didn’t have to come you know that?”

“Come on. You want me here, I’m your mother.”

Contrary to popular belief...

“You’re such a handsome boy, why do you want to get married. You’re wasting your time.” She starts.

She should be praising him for seeing the value in getting married and maturing to the idea. But no...

Jungkook puffs out a breath. The room has been silent since his mother began speaking. And he drowns in it. There's a lot he could say.

Instead, he throws the jacket on and teases at it a little in the mirror. Some are unnecessary touches but he does them anyways. Feeling ready enough he steps away but before he walks out further he looks at the woman sat on the couch.

“If you can..,try your best not to speak to her, okay?”

--

“Did they call?” Taehyung’s voice is almost none existent in your field of thoughts.

It’s only when he repeats that you catch what he said. "no.”  You say no energy in your voice. “but it’s fine...their loss.”

You toss your phone on the couch a little too harshly, just wanting to forget it. Forget everything.

You won’t and can’t beg for people who don’t want to be in your life. Informing them was just a courtesy, you didn’t want him here anyways.

Though it would’ve been great if they could just put their pride aside for you for once.

Taehyung wraps his arms around you. “Their loss. Just know you’ve got us.” He nudges at your temple with his nose.

“Yeah, you’ve got people who care and that’s all that matters.” Jisoo hugs you too and now you’re sandwiched between them. It reminds you that no matter what, you still have people around you who do care and want to support you. So if those people who you thought would want to see succeed didn’t want to be here then it’s not on you. You have your friends.

“let’s finish getting ready guys.” They brush them away playfully and immediately your hairstylist is quick to working on you.

 “So bossy.” You roll your eyes at the remark. “Gonna give this guy a run for his money.”

It doesn’t matter. You cheer to yourself.

Nothing else matters today, you’re getting married and you don’t need to cloud your thoughts with negativity. You wouldn’t want your husband to see you all gloomy. That’s not gonna to be your first impression.

You smile.

All you want to do right now is walk down that aisle. Nothing else matters.

“Did i mention a little something came in for you in the mail” jisoo’s voice comes in excited but you aren’t able to turn cause you’re on your final steps of getting your makeup done.

“huh?” when she stands in front of your eyes fall in the object in her grasp. “What’s that?” you eaxclaim with a smile taking the box onto your lap.

“Open it.” She exclaims, more excited than you.

The tiffany and co logo on the box is evident when you unwrap it. You can’t help but smile from ear to ear. You haven’t met him yet and he’s making you smile this hard? Once it’s open you’re met with a silver locket and bracelet. You’ve gotten gifts before but you have no clue why you’re blushing so hard for this one.

“oh my gosh these are so cute.”

“tiffany and co too...” Jisoo adds, immediately rushing for you to put it on cause it would look good with your dress.

Taehyung watches from across the room, already dressed. “Anybody can buy that.”

“hater...” you and Jisoo choir.

--

Seokjin made it clear for him to behave when he sees your family. He has no clue what he thought he would do, because as much as he’s outgoing, In front of the in-law's he’s a dove.

He’s trying to be calm and act like he’s ready and been ready, but he can’t deny the cold sweats that threaten to run and mess his suit. This is the most trust he’s put into anything. All he’s praying is that it works out.

He’s a fucking groom.

Jisoo sits watching him closely, he is handsome and somebody you would find handsome too. But something she knows you’ll be worried about is probably his personality. He looks like the opposite of what you want and all you’ve been running away from. But who knows with you nowadays. He could be a good guy though.

“Hello.” Jungkook waves to your side. From all he can see, there’s a woman probably same age as him, could be a sister? Friend? Next he sees is an older lady probably the same age as his mother. That could be your mother. The rest of the crowd is filled with 2 people.

Not many people, but t doesn't matter. He wouldn't invite anybody too, if he didn’t have to. Maybe you're too embarrassed to be marrying already.

He's eyes can't stay on one spot. He tries but it's painful.

When he turns to his side, Seokjin and namjoon smile at him, it helps ease whatever he’s feeling but immediately his heart tightens up watching the person sat next to his father whisper into his ear..

What the hell is she saying? Is he standing up straight? Is he smiling enough or too hard.

--

This is the craziest thing you've ever done. The bravest too.

And—God, you hope—it’s the last wild thing you’ll have to do for a while.

Breathing is something your body usually handles without question, but now it needs supervision. You have to consciously pull air into your lungs, or you won’t make it down this aisle walking.

You have no idea what’s waiting at the end of it.

What if you’re not attracted to him?

Worse—what if he’s not attracted to you?

What if you’re not what he’s been hoping for?

“This still feels like a dream,” you mumble, looping your arm around Taehyung’s. He smells like cologne and nerves. What the fuck is he nervous for.

“You ready?” he asks gently.

No, but you nod. “Yeah.”

The gentle music of a live plays as people  stand and you walk, still not in view yet cause if the infrastructure. Its a small venue but sill manages to make you feel like you’re drowning.

As you walk and get closer you try your hardest not to look at the one thing you’re most curious about.

So your eyes choose to scan the venue instead—the warm fairy lights, the soft music, the flowers. You knew the production team would go all-out, but you didn’t expect them to go all out for you. It’s perfect.

You’ve never felt this special in your life. Twelve-year-old you couldn’t have imagined this moment. Even though this isn’t the love story you thought you’d get, the feeling is still here, blooming in your chest.

Who says he can’t become the love of your life?

Jungkook's eyes are wide when they land on your.

From your soft smile to styled hair amd the the dress that falls down your body carefully, he watches every detail. He can’t look anywhere else. He swears his heart was just in his chest a moment ago.

Jungkook watches the person walking you down the aisle, he’s a younger guy. That’s interesting. A sibling?

From all that he’s imagined he could get, you were not on the card. But he'll take it.

You’re more than he bargained for.

You walk slowly, soaking it all in. Nearing the arch, you finally allow yourself to look at the man chosen for you.

And—shit.

He’s… handsome.

You eyes squint.

He smiles as you approach, so at least he doesn’t seem horrified. That’s something.

Taehyung shares a nod with the man, nothing warm or cold behind. You hug him before he walks to his seat, clinging for just a second too long. Then, it's just you and him—your groom. You can’t meet his eyes for more than a second. And it’s embarrassing.

You’ve been on debate teams, presented in University projects and in meetings at work. Basically you’ve had eyes on you before and it was manageable...but these? They burn.

“Hi,” you say, voice small.

 You glance toward his side. A good amount of family. One person stands out—tall, silver hair. Probably a groomsman.

Your groom is attractive, sure, but not your type. Tattoos?, the way he stands—he looks like someone you tried to avoid.

You hate how superficial that sounds. But the thought won’t leave.

At least he’s taller than you.

“Hi,” he replies, equally nervous. Then leans in. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You look nice too.” You eye him down, eyes narrowed.

If this were a blind date, you’d already be knee-deep in awkward small talk. But this? This is… bigger. It requires bigger questions.

“Let me take that for you.” Jisoo’s whisper interrupts. She takes your bouquet and you almost refuse, needing something to keep your fingers occupied.

“I see you got the jewellery.” His voice is as light as the pale blue sky. It’s odd to compare it to a colour but that how it feels. His voice reminds you of the blue sky you’ve stood under so many times wondering if your soulmate died. There’s still a possibility of that.

You glance down. You’d worn it and forgotten. It had become that comfortable. That familiar. But now with the recognition, you can feel the cold silver touch every part of you. You can feel it sway and graze you every turn you make. Even the smallest action causes movement.

“Oh yeah. Thank you.”

“You’ll have to thank my groomsman too. He helped me pick it.”

He looks over at Namjoon, who immediately looks like he wants to disappear.

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It might sound like he couldn’t handle it alone. But truthfully, Namjoon just knows more about…well, this kind of thing.

“Thank you, groomsman,” you direct a more warm smile to the man.

Namjoon mumbles something, but you don’t catch it.

Turning back, you stare a beat longer when your eyes catch he's features. You bite the inside of your cheek. His face—it’s not common. Not forgettable.

And yet…

The officiant steps forward. Time for the official part.

“Yn, meet for the very first time, Jungkook Jeon. Jungkook, meet for the very first time, Yn Y/l/n.”

His name hits you like a church bell.

“Jungkook?” you repeat sounding a little shocked, like you didn’t hear it right the first time.

He chuckles nervously. “That’s me.” Do you not like his name?

Your stomach drops.

You know him. The name. The face. It clicks.

Your nose works over time pulling in air. You can't open your mouth, cause you might just puke.

Shit—does he know you? He doesn’t seem like he does.

Is this real?

The man you remember wouldn’t be standing here right now. Does she have some polar opposite twin or something?

You rub your arms and wish you could blame the AC for the chill. But that's all on him.

Glancing at your friends. They have no clue what’s happening inside your head right now. They don't know how fast the room spins.

Where do you put your hands, what do you hold onto?

None of them know about him. He’s the only one you've never told them about. And they sit there waiting for you--with smiles and excitement--to marry him.

You made them come here. They smile for you. They support you.

You asked them to be here for you. You wanted to do this.

What a waste of time. You should’ve known.

To add-on, as you look at your friends for a second time you stop at a face you were not expecting and hadn't noticed. How did you miss that? A face that had told you she didn’t want to be here, well not her specifically but mainly on behalf of your father. But what the hell is your mother doing here? She said she couldn’t come.

What the fuck is going on. Collect yourself,  you don’t want to look like you’re about to faint. Even though the overwhelming review of information could just kill you right here.

But it’s okay. You still have time to walk away. Walk away from everyone.

You thought this was going to go well.

You hoped it would.

But now?

This is not what you wanted.

-

-

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/n: 😏😏 what did you think? I hope you liked it. Please don't ask me if it's a happy ending story(i'm not saying it is or is not.) I just feel if you ask me that then you're not really interested in the story progression. I will try my best to post frequently (I've been working on 2 as well) so just hood your horses.

anyways I hope you enjoyed.

same time next week?

Lets discuss in the replies 🖐😊

taglist: @lovingkoalaface @granataepfelchen @jksusawife @notsevenwithyou @llallaaa @kmpj9 @lryf @smileyshaven @dragonflygurl4

note: to join taglist just inbox.

every note, reply and reblog is appreciated.

let me know what you thought of this chapter. do you think she'll marry him?

[breadandbees]

ALRIGHT FIRST DRAFT IS DONE FOR CH. 22 WITH A WHOPPING 21k!!!!! (feat. Aftermath + Much Needed Conversations + The Inherent Humor Of Showing Up Late To Class)

14k words for the third draft of chapter 21 AND 11k words (so far) for the second draft of chapter 22 of hvhdhc LET’S GOOOOOOOOO YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 22

Batsis is slowly turning feral, but that's hot 😩 Also, in ch 24(maybe ch 25 if 24 gets too long) Bruce is about to get what he deserves :) I just wanted y'all to know because I'm so happy with the plot line for it and I'm bitting at the bars of my enclosure to not spoil more than that.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 22 >>next

Your week has been shit. From finding out the other Guardians almost got wiped out, again, to the Immortal almost breaking down twice, due to finding out about Kate and about Nolan- granted, that one turned out okay- well, as okay as it could considering he’s been crashing on your couch for about three days. The only win you had was Nolan writing down everything that could hurt the Viltrumites and how and where to find these things.

And then you found out Damian and Talia had been lying to you. From a Celebrity Gossip TV show while yapping with the Immortal. You joined his emotional support blanket that night and have been avoiding Talia and Damian since. You couldn’t face them. You knew you should- you wanted answers- but what other reason would there be for Wayne’s youngest to be here other than to find dirt on you and your family or to just make fun of you? They didn't like you. Why would he?

And fuck, did it hurt. Seeing Bruce carry the boy from the time he got in the family to even now when you almost crashed to your knees to beg for a drop of that attention so many times. It only made you realize that he never actually had it in him to care for you. It was never about you not being good enough or him not having enough love to give around, Bruce just didn’t want to give you any of the plenty of love he did have.

“We need to talk.”  Your body tensed at the voice you heard, hands clenching at your side. You just wanted to do your job. Damian barely blinked before he was lifted high in the air, his ears clogged due to the sudden altitude change. “You want to talk?” His sister hissed, her hands holding him up by his jacket. “Fine. Let’s talk. Why the fuck are you here? What does Bruce want now?”

“You found out…” His dumbfounded expression and Cecil yelling in your earpiece only raised your anger, their voices mixing into a cacophony as they both spoke, Damian trying to explain himself, doing an awful job at it, while the old man was trying to coax you to discuss stuff on the ground. “You want me to put him down, Cecil? Fine.” You let go of Damian, letting him fall for a few seconds. “You’re forgetting, Cecil. You need me, not the other way around. Act like it.” The earpiece went into your pocket before you grabbed the teen again.

You weren't really angry at the old man, you were more angry at Damian looking so surprised at the fact that you knew. Like he thought you were that stupid. “Of course I found out- forget it. I want you out of my city, and while at it- keep your siblings and father on a tight fucking leash.” A warm hand on your shoulder stopped you from speaking, your head snapping towards the owner only to see Nolan with a shirt covering his face and, a little behind him, the Immortal. “So this is the Damian Wayne, huh?” The boy glared at the man. “How about we talk over some lunch?” You scoff at the man. “Over lunch?! Are you fucking-“

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and the Immortal were seated on one side of the table. Oliver, who usually sat with your parents, sat between you two, while Damian took the baby's place between Nolan and Debbie. They were trying to placate you with your baby brother. Traitors.

Nolan has been staring at the teen for a while now, while your glare didn’t seem to leave your plate. “You know, once I was invited to a rich people party- they had fried these robins.” The older man started, a gleeful tone. “They were quite the delicacy.” You and Damian looked at the man with disgust.

“Nolan.” Debbie glared at him. “Ew, first of all, aren’t they like no meat?” you grimace at the thought. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.  Nolan just shrugs, eyes staring into the teen’s soul. “The crunch of the bones was the best part.”

“…Is this about him being Robin and Bruce being Batman?” Everyone stared at you wide-eyed. “Yeah- I found out. No thanks to any of you.” You grumble. “So. I’m here to be threatened into silence?” Damian’s question was met with a resounding yes and a quick no from Debbie. “He’s a child- we’re – We can’t threaten a kid.” Your mother was sadly outvoted.

“You lied to me. You and Talia. I don’t care if mom wants to remain friends with her, but I better not see either of you again.” The Immortal softly said your name, trying to calm you down. “No- I let them both near my mom and my brother, thinking they were who they said they are!” Your head turns to Damian. “You could have told me the truth- I would have respected you for having the balls to do so. But to send your mom to spy on me, on my family, and then for you both to lie straight to my face-“ You take a deep breath in, shaking your head.

“Fuck this. I don’t want to see you or your mom again.” You get up, sneering and grumbling. “Oh- I’ll be busy tonight, by the way. Don’t wait up.” You informed the others and left.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Mark, listen to me. Say you'll do it.” Mark could hear Cecil talking in his ear, telling him to say that he will. “You can't beat her, kid. Say it. Get her to leave, and we'll get ready for these assholes together.” Mark just glared at Anissa. “Hell no.”

The punch he threw was strong enough to make the woman fly a few feet away, but it was also strong enough to break his hand. “My sister gave you a warning. Nobody may believe her when she says she can eliminate you all- but I’ve seen what she’s capable of.” The young man fixes his posture, standing tall.

“When she finds out you’ve gone against her warning, she’ll find you.” He gave a bloody, toothy smile. “And she’ll kill you without mercy, just like a true Viltrumite.” Mark’s growled words were followed by a lunge, getting back into the fight. Cecil could only watch the fight with shaking hands, face blank, and Mark’s words repeating in his mind.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Once the sun set, you were quick on going off planet, going to search for the Justice League space station. Well… You tried to, but Jon caught up with you before you could break through the clouds. “Kid-“ You sigh when he blocks your path as you try to fly around him. “Please, just hear me out-“

“I know you and the other Waynes aren’t on the best terms, but Bruce didn’t even know Damian was here to see you! We both lied to him-“ You scoff at the boy. “And then you both and Talia lied to me. How nice. Good job. Now, if you excuse me-“ Jon latched onto your leg, making you stumble a bit. “No!”

The young teen cringed at the look you gave him “Sorry- I just- We know we should have told you the truth- but Damian was afraid you’d reject him just for being your dad’s son-“ You grab him by the back of his top, bringing him to eye level once more. “Bruce is not my father.” Jon mutters another sorry at your snap. “We’re truly sorry- we both are. Damian just wanted to know you, I swear.”

“He could have known me if he didn’t lie to me.” You let go of the youngest Kent. “Now scram.”  He doesn’t listen to you, though. “Please just give him another chance- he’s really sad about what he did!” That made you stop, cogs turning inside your head. “You know where The JL’s space station is?” Your question was met with a confused nod. “… Show me. And I’ll consider it.” You were lying to him. There’s no way that you’ll just forgive the boy because his puppy-eyed friend wants you to, but you couldn't pass on something that'll save you some time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You didn’t really expect them to be there, so you spent a few minutes watching them. They weren’t here when Jon first showed you the location. Diana Prince, Clark Kent, Oliver Queen, Dinah Lance, John Constantine, Zatanna Zatara, Hal Jordan, J’onn J’onzz. You weren’t sure what they were doing with the Bat family, frankly, you didn’t care. You’ll ask from Bruce what he owed you, and then you’ll be sure to bury any memories of them, even if you had to bury them with actual bodies.

“We need to talk.” The league members and the other bats present froze at the voice ringing through their minds. John and Zatanna just looked at your form outside the window with various degrees of confusion. Batman could only stare at you, at the subject of the discussion he was having with the others- “I need help.”

“You need help?” John’s surprise at the mere thought was visible. “Yeah- of course- Bats, open the window or something-“ John slapped Bruce’s arm as he moved closer to the window. “No.” You quickly interrupted, John repeating what you said. “They may be your friends or allies or whatever, but I don’t trust them.”

Your words seemed to have created a ruckus inside, one you weren’t quite privy to due to them speaking out loud. Your eyes were, however, on Black Bat- or was it Orphan now?… Batgirl? You couldn’t remember- you retained way too much information in a few days. Nevertheless, as the older people argued, Cassandra seemed to be moving out of your view range.

When she reappeared again, you did a double take. She was wearing a space suit- you hoped she was considering how sleek it looked compared to astronaut suits- and was jetting straight for you. “What the fuck are you doing-“ You gasped freezing up when she attached to you like a koala bear. “What. The. Fuck.” The young bat just looked at you. “Inside.”

This fucking family was making you crazy. But you relent, opening a portal and walking through, setting your feet on the floor. “Get off me.” You frowned as she tightened her grip while your voice startled quite a few people. “Now.”  She let go with a whine, stepping a few inches back. “Now-“ Your head turns to look at the other. “You’ll help me. Not if, not maybe, you’ll do it, when I say.”

“Why would we?” Hal scoffed. “Imagine what the press would do to you knowing that you refused to fight against the Viltrumite problem two different times. Add to that the many disasters you refused to help with due to them being too 'low priority' for oh the great Justice League.” John’s head snapped to the Bat. “You refused to even look into it? Twice?!”

“We didn’t get another report about them-“Clark tried to defend, but your laugh cut him short. “Then all of you are as stupid as you are tall, or you’ve got a rat keeping things from you. Nolan, before killing the guardians, sent in anonymous tips and even came up here and to some of you, personally. You and Wonder Woman brushed him off.” Clark looks at Diana. “We didn’t think-“

“Of course you didn’t. There’s always something more important. Right, Bruce?” You tilted your head at the man, the use of his birth name made everyone tense up. Batman said you didn’t know. “You’ll help. It’s the least you fucking owe me.” The growled words made Batman flinch. “Or I’ll just expose everyone, from personal lives to dirty secrets to your contingency plans. Everything I have on the Justice League.” You tuned and smiled oh so sweetly at Bruce- he wished it was a real one. “If I and mine go down, I’ll make sure to drag you all to hell with me.”

“You can’t just-“ Hal choked on his words, falling into his chair when you appeared right in front of him, close enough your noses would have touched. “Sure I can. You have until tomorrow, eleven a.m., to decide.” You walked away from the man. “Once you agree, I’ll tell you how you can help me- And how we can stop the Viltrumites. If I don’t get an answer, I’ll take it as a refusal.” The green light of your portal created an eerie glow around you. “And Bruce? Keep your kids and yourself away from me.” Green Arrow looked at Batman. “First of all- What the fuck did you do to that kid to hate you like that? Because that wasn't the spoiled brat kind of 'I hate my dad' attitude.” Nightwing sighs. “It’s- not really what we did…“ Red Robin continues for him. “It’s mostly what we didn’t do.”

The blond was judging them. Hard. “…Okay… Second, is no one worried that we have someone on the inside keeping stuff from us?” Oliver turned from his wife to look at everyone else. “No one?” Bruce just grunts. “He’ll deal with it.” Dick gave a shaky smile as he patted his father’s shoulder. “Like he took care of your sister?” Oliver yelped as Dinah hit him. “What? It’s the truth- kid’s clearly messed up because of him-“

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Roy watched with worry as Jason kept replaying the celeb gossip clip that had been recently posted. Jason, despite shaking like a Chihuahua, was beyond ecstatic. The image of you, pearls adorning your neck, at some fancy restaurant with two men and then from a different recording holding those same men’s arms, clearly talking their ears off while the fuckers just smiled and looked at you- it opened opportunities for Jason.

Not because it’ll just make Bruce lose it over the possibility of you dating, and dating older men at that- no, that was nothing- but you being so chummy, so touchy with Lex Luthor and Slade Wilson? At least half of the family will lose it. They weren’t privy to the texts you sent him, to the silly pictures you took of the men without their knowledge, to what actually happened that day. The cards are in his hands, and he’s about to make Dick have to go back to anger management classes.

“Jason..?” Roy drawled out softly. “Are you okay? Have you taken too much of Scarecrow's gas, again?” Jason turned his head towards the man, grinning widely. “This may top Joker’s death.” Roy just sat up after processing it for a bit. “Okay… I’ll go get Selina… and maybe Harley too. You just- stay put, okay, buddy?”

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou @asillysimp @aalunar @cxcilla @sirenetheblogger @pinkluv29 @br33zy-blizzardz @victoria1676 @of-poetry-and-dreams @djpuppy-kittens @wizzerreblogs @galaxypurplerose @burningkittenprince @swanluver

Sneak peek of ch 23:

“How about we don’t talk about that?” Lex tutted at your failed diversion. “Aw, did she break your heart?” You gave the bald man a blank stare. “I will throw you into a black hole.” He just laughed.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (25/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Having lunch with friends always leads to sharing information. And girl, those friends don't hold back.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet, mentions of Carlos and his girlfriend (yes, I consider this a trigger)

Word Count: 3.3k

series masterlist

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A/N: I just reached 2.6k followers and wow!! thank you so much!!! I love you! and this one is for you!!! feedback is appreciated.

Although it's only a few days until Christmas, the sun is shining so brightly that it's pleasantly warm as you and Kika leave the furniture store. As planned - but still with an uneasy feeling - you have left the almost overflowing shopping cart in front of the checkouts and while Charles pays for your "early Christmas present", you and your friend walk to the restaurant.

"I hope all this stuff fits in the car." Kika curls her mouth into a grin. "The mirror I wrote on the note - you know, the one they have to get from storage - is pretty big."

"I'd like to have your guts," you answer her. "Just picking out a huge mirror without knowing exactly whether it will fit anywhere in our apartment."

Kika grins and points to her brown eyes. "Eye measurement, baby. Those marbles are that big for a reason."

You have to stifle a laugh. "If you say so."

While the Portuguese woman plans where in your room she will place which decoration, your thoughts drift off. 

It bothers you a little that Charles wants to spend so much money on you. And for no good reason. "I want you to feel comfortable" was his explanation, which is of course very courteous and loving of him. But you could have bought the things with your own money. At least a small part of it. 

Would he expect a similarly expensive gift for Christmas now? If so, what could you get him? What do you give someone who already has everything? 

"Are you mad at me?" Kika interrupts your flow of thoughts and grabs your elbow. 

Confused, you turn to her. "What?"

"I - I don't know." When she stops, you're forced to stop too. "I didn't tell you that Charles is a famous Formula 1 driver. You - you confided in me about Raphael and I kept you in the dark about your roommate." 

You exhale. "Kika..."

"I wasn't a good friend and I'm sorry about that. Charles had asked us all not to tell because he wanted to protect you and enjoy the time with you when he was just Charles to you. Even if it wasn't fair to you. I can understand if you're angry with me and-"

"I'm not angry with you," you interrupt her and smile at her. "You're Charles' friend first and foremost and I can't blame him or you for keeping his secret. It doesn't affect our friendship in the slightest."

"Promise?" Her tone sounds a little more pleased than it did a few moments ago. 

You nod. "I promise."

She hooks back into you. "Thank goodness for that. I felt super bad because I couldn't tell you. But it wasn't my secret and it wasn't my place to tell you. And I'm really relieved that you see it the same way." She rests her head on your shoulder as you continue walking. 

"So you're a model, huh?" you ask her. 

She nods. "Yes. Well, I put a lot of effort into it and it's very tiring at times." Kika shrugs her shoulders. "But because of that - and Pierre, of course - I get to travel a lot and see great places. And I really appreciate that." She looks at you. "Now that you're unemployed -" You give her a dirty look. "Maybe you'd like to take my pictures sometime. And then I can post it on my Instagram and maybe other models will want to book you."

"You haven't seen any of my pictures yet," you reply with a laugh as she grabs your hand and jumps up and down. "Of course we can. We can try it out if you like."

Your friend looks around briefly before letting go of you and moving away from you. "How about now? I know you don't have your camera with you, but you can use my phone. The photos won't be as focused as with a real camera, but it should be enough to get you started." 

She hands you her cell phone before standing opposite you against the wall of the house. You watch her uncertainly as she fixes her hair. "Are you sure about this? What if the boys are already waiting for us?"

"Let them." She pulls her black jeans up a little so that they sit loosely on her hips. "It won't take long. And I trust you. So here we go."

While Kika turns, repositions herself and smiles at the camera, you take as many pictures as you can. In between, you adjust her purple cardigan so that it sits in the middle of her narrow shoulders, tell her how her feet should be positioned to emphasize the curves of her body and even tousle her hair once so that a few strands fall loosely into her forehead. 

When you look at the pictures after ten minutes and favor three of them, she looks curiously over your shoulder. "They look great. Really outfit of the day vibe." You hand the phone back to her. "I like this one. And this one. You've captured my butt well," she grins and puts the phone in her black handbag before hooking it back up to you. "And now let's go. I'm really hungry and I don't want to keep your tiramisu from you."

Oh well. 

Charles' words - "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it" - haunt your mind and the images that appear in your head don't make the situation any easier.  

For example, Charles kneeling between your legs and his gaze wandering hungrily over your body. How his hands rest on your thighs to open them a little wider so that he can lie comfortably on his stomach between them. How he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties to slowly pull them off your legs. And the way his mouth moves up from the soft skin of your thighs to where you want it to be. Need it to be. The way he opens his mouth and licks his tongue over his lips before closing the distance between you and - 

"Watch out. You start drooling." When you give Kika a confused look, she pokes you in the side. "I didn't know you could daydream about tiramisu."

"I wasn't even thinking about tiramisu," you defend yourself, but Kika doesn't believe a word you say. 

"Of course not." You could even hear her grin if you weren't looking at her. She lifts her hand and puts it to your cheek, playfully wiping the non-existent spit from the corner of your mouth. "I hate to repeat myself, but you're really not very good at lying."

You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at your sneakers. "Is it that obvious?"

"That you're totally into tiramisu? Hardly," she replies wryly, but puts her arm around your shoulder. "Let's be honest. A trained eye like mine can spot something like that, but if you're worried about the boys seeing it - you really don't need to worry. They wouldn't even recognize a dessert if you put it right in front of them."

"I just don't know what to do," you confess to her. 

Kika purses her lips. "Would you be ready for tiramisu after everything that's happened?"

A question you don't know the answer to. After Raphael's betrayal, you had actually sworn off men for a long time for fear that something similar would happen to you again. You tried to build a wall around your heart, but Charles has broken it down piece by piece and now there is only him. He has spread inside you, in your head and in your heart, and you are hungry for him - a feeling that you have never felt for Raphael before. A feeling that takes you by surprise and overruns you like an avalanche and you are helplessly at its mercy. 

"It's not the end of the world if you're ready for it," Kika assures you and her smile is genuine. "And when you're ready to give the tiramisu its real name, I'll be here if you want to talk about it."

You hug your friend tightly, causing her to let out a loud gasp. "Thank you, Kika. Really."

"You don't need to thank me. After all, I'm going to make full use of the mirror in your room soon and use you for your photography skills."

A few minutes later, you arrive at the small restaurant. As you enter through the glass door, you can already see the two men sitting at a table at the back. And Kika was right - apart from the four of you, the restaurant is deserted. 

"Where have you been?" asks Pierre as you join them. While Kika sits down opposite her boyfriend, you take the empty seat next to her. "We've been waiting for ages."

"We had to stop for a moment because I wanted to take photos," Kika explains and shows them both one of the pictures you took of her.

Pierre grimaces in amazement. "Very good photos. I hope you tag her in them too."

Playfully indignant, she puts her hand to her cleavage. "Of course! What makes you think I wouldn't do that? It might even land her more photo shoots with other models." She leans in your direction. "But as long as I remain your favorite model, everything's fine."

"You are and always will be my favorite model, Kika," you reply and briefly lean your cheek against the top of her head before she sits up straight again. 

While Kika and Pierre argue lovingly, you feel Charles pressing one of his legs against yours under the table. When you look at him, he smiles. "Everything okay?" he asks silently, tilting his head. 

You nod. "Everything's perfect." You press your leg against his as well.

The risotto you ordered doesn't taste too bad, even if it is a little more fancy than your typical meals. The boys talk about their sport and you try to understand everything, but when the conversation eventually turns to engines, you stop listening. 

You watch Charles as he talks energetically and passionately to his friend about his job, while the French mainly listens. He tries to explain things with his hands, waving them wildly in front of his face, and if you didn't know him, you'd think he was a bit out of his mind. But there is something twinkling in his eyes, a spark that shines brighter and brighter the longer he talks about Formula 1.

It makes him so attractive that you have to swallow. 

"How are Carlos and his girlfriend doing?" Kika interjects into the conversation. "I saw on Instagram the other day that they went on a trip together."

You look from Kika to Charles. "Who is Carlos?"

"My teammate at Ferrari. The other driver," he explains briefly with a smile before turning to Kika. "I've seen that too. Santorini or something, wasn't it? It was definitely nice, but let's see how long it lasts."

You have to ask again. " How long will it last? That doesn't sound like you have much faith in the relationship."

Kika, who has taken a sip of her water, puts her glass back on the table. "Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with faith," she explains and takes her cell phone out of her bag. She taps on it a little until she hands it to you. 

You see an Instagram page of a Becca, also a model, it seems. 27 years old, model at the Bijou Management agency. Her last post is actually from Santorini and alongside all the pictures of her lolling by the pool is one of her with a man. Carlossainz55 is tagged in the picture.

"When you're famous, it's harder to have a relationship," Pierre continues. "Not everyone is so lucky and falls in love with someone who is a good match for them. Sometimes rumors surface about people that aren't true, but still damage reputations. And to counteract this, some people go into relationships that put them in a good light."

You look around in confusion. "So it's a marketing strategy? So that people can sell themselves better?"

Charles nods. "These PR relationships are very conspicuous and usually easy to see through, but even then they distract from the actual rumor."

"And Carlos and Becca are in one of those PR relationships?" Your friends nod. "And what's the rumor that needs to be put to rest?"

Charles bites the inside of his cheek. "Carlos was with a young, super-nice woman for years. When they broke up, there was a rumor that he had a secret family and even a son. That this was the reason for the break-up. And that triggered a few conversations at Ferrari." He shrugs his shoulders. "And then they pulled Becca in for him."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Pulled her in? How do you find someone to willingly agree to a fake relationship like that?"

Kika catches your attention. "Some racing teams have a cooperation with certain modeling agencies for such cases. Which of course makes the whole thing even more conspicuous. But just think how much publicity the girlfriends get from it. It definitely doesn't hurt the modeling job."

"But you also have to understand that millions of euros are attached to a driver's reputation," Pierre explains. "Fans buy tickets to see their favorite driver. They buy merchandise like shirts, caps or whatever to show their loyalty. And loyalty is not exactly low. Ask Charles. One priest has his whole Instagram page dedicated to him."

As you look at your roommate, he can only nod. "That's true. Fans put their favorites on pedestals, praise them to the skies and would defend them to the bitter end. But a rumor that is so serious and has consequences like falling sales figures - anything is better than fans who refuse to support their favorites."

"And why do you think it won't be good for much longer?" Charles looks nervously around the room as if he doesn't know what to say, and his friends also avoid your gaze and your question. "Guys, I don't know these people. So, whatever you tell me - I can't do anything with the information anyway. Is there another woman?"

"It's not exactly another woman," Kika mumbles into her glass and all heads turn in her direction. "What is it? Like she's going to run to the nearest news agency and tell them that the Spanish Ferrari driver isn't exclusively into women."

You raise your hands placatingly. "In case it's not clear - of course I'll keep everything that's said around the table to myself. I'm not crazy and risking our friendship."

"I didn't expect anything else," Charles replies with a smile that could melt glaciers. "I couldn't bear it if we weren't friends anymore either." 

As you look at him and mindlessly lick your lips, you feel Kika's elbow gently on your arm. 

"What do you think? Do you fancy some tiramisu?" 

Your gaze lingers on Charles and when he presses his leg a little harder against yours, your breath hitches. "I'm craving it."

And indeed. The tiramisu isn't as good as the one at the restaurant where you met Kika and Pierre, but it comes close. You try to look away from Charles, but every time you look at him, his eyes are already on you. Something that makes you even more nervous than it should. 

When you get into the car a short time later, unnoticed, you glance briefly over the seats back into the trunk. "Where's the new bed?"

Charles straps himself in and has the seat belt fastened against his torso. "They'll deliver it between Christmas and New Year and set it up straight away. Then I won't have all the work and Pierre won't have to lug it around with me."

"For which I am very grateful," replies the Frenchman, steering the car through the streets of Monaco. "I don't even know how we're going to transport this mirror without breaking it. It was already barely possible to get it into the car."

"That sounds like a you-problem," grins Kika, looking at her boyfriend through the rear-view mirror. "You're the strong men. You'll find a solution while we get all the little things into the apartment. Right?"

The question is directed at you, but apart from a nod, she can't expect anything else in response. Charles's fingers are once again wrapped around your calf, his thumb gently stroking your warm skin and you can't think of anything else but the feeling of warmth that spreads through you from this small touch. 

It takes a good hour for both the mirror and the rest to get to the upstairs in your apartment. After Pierre involuntarily teaches you several swear words in French and Kika decorates your entire windowsill with fake plants, they quickly make a run for it, worried that you're both going to take even more advantage of them than you already have. 

"We've had a good day so far," you call out to Charles from the kitchen as you pour you both a glass of water each. You don't know where he is, but he will probably have heard you anyway. 

"Definitely," comes his voice from the living room. As you follow it, you see Charles sitting on the large couch, his head back and his eyes closed. Only now do you notice how thick his neck is. Is it from all the training for Formula 1?

"Here." You hold his glass of water out to him and he opens his eyes to accept it. As you sit down, he takes a sip. You watch his Adam's apple bounce as he swallows. 

"Thank you," he replies quietly and rests his arm on the back of the couch. A sign for you to lean against him, which you definitely don't refuse. 

As you snuggle into his side and breathe in his unmistakable scent, you feel tiredness overtake you. "But it was exhausting."

""Mh-mhh." 

"Thanks again. For my early Christmas present. Even though it wasn't necessary," you joke, but as rigid as Charles is sitting next to you, he doesn't seem to be in the mood for jokes. And as you follow his stare, the roses on the white piano come into your field of vision. The reason why you suggested the trip to the furniture store. And suddenly your tiredness is blown away. 

"Do you happen to know anyone who has something like a fire bowl or something?" you ask your flatmate. 

This question seems to break him out of his spell. His gaze wanders from the roses to you and he raises an eyebrow in confusion. "A fire bowl?" You nod. "Joris has a rooftop terrace and we've had bonfires there before in the summer." He licks his teeth once. "What do you need a fire bowl for? You're not thinking about sitting around a fire with sticks and marshmallows in winter, are you?"

"Not exactly," you reply and get up from the couch. As you look down at him, you hold out your hand. "Come on, mon joli. I have an idea."

[novemberheart]

{overview} John realizes his mistake, you and Simon grow closer

{warnings} cursing, some angst, fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141

Chapter 24 <- Chapter 25 -> Chapter 26

“Pick up your bloody phone,” he growled. He paced around his office, his mind automatically jumping to the worst. Well, could you blame him with your history? “Come on sweetheart,” He pleaded on the other line. He had shown up exactly three minutes ago ready to pick you up for a lunch date off base, yet you were nowhere to be seen.

He paced back over by his desk, wondering if he should start calling in the boys to look for you. It was then he saw it. The world went silent beside his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

“No,” he nearly whined, his chest clenching painfully. He cursed moving as fast as he could down the hallway without attracting too much attention. He was going to shred that folder and its contents. He actually found it a bit funny when he found it. He was so against you joining and now you were one of the most important aspects of his life.

He should’ve destroyed it right then and there.

He could only imagine how you felt right now. The man who you had deemed your alpha rejecting you from first glance. The man who you had shared your mind and body with. He felt sick. He ran into Kyle in the elevator. His honey eyes widened at his appearance, his hand reaching out gripping onto his shirt. “What’s happened?” He urged.

“I fucked up,” he admitted instantly. “I don't know how to fix this, Kyle,” he gasped. His own hands grabbing onto the beta.

“It’ll be alright,” Kyle soothed, his own heart pounding in his chest.

“I still had those profiles Kate had sent, the ones with omegas she thought would work with us. I was a bastard and crossed them out. Including our girl. Well, I almost crossed all of them. I left one be,” he swallowed back his nerves, his hands beginning to tremble. He had never had such a bodily reaction before. The thought of losing you too much for his nervous system to process.

“What do you mean you left one be? Like there was one you wanted?” Kyle pressed. John nodded slowly, before shaking his head- contradicting himself.

“It wasn't that I preferred her. Given her history she just seemed like the best fit if we had to pick one,” John explained. At the time it had made sense. He didn't know any of you and it wasn't like he had put that much thought into it. He wasn't ready for an omega at that time. He hadn't even sent the papers back to Kate; he just let them rot in the bottom of his file cabinet. You were also the one Laswell was pushing for. If he rejected you, maybe she would leave him alone about it. At the time it made sense.

The elevator had gone up and down a few times before they had finally gotten off. Vernie greeted them at the door, but John beelined to your room.

Your sobs were deafening. He wasn't sure if he had ever heard someone cry so hard.

And it was his fault.

He tried the handle but you had locked the door. Your sobs continued so you either didn’t hear him or you didn't care.

“Sweetheart, it's me. Let me in so I can explain,” he knuckles rapped against the door desperately. He heard you sputter something. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what you said. “Please, pretty girl. I know what it looks like, but please don't put any thought into it. I crossed you out just to get back at Laswell for pushing me to choose an omega. Please open the door,” he begged. Your sobs didn't decrease in the slightest, his alpha nearly throwing him into a frenzy.

“Can I come in, love?” Kyle spoke suddenly. You gave no response other than painful-sounding sobs. Kyle winced his hand rubbing over his chest like it would soothe the sharp pain.

“I love you,” John said. “I’ll be right here when you’re ready to talk about it,” his voice cracked. The alpha moved on shaky limbs to the couch, sitting with his head in his hands. He threw insults at himself quietly, before standing up again, making his way back to your door. “Please, honey, let me in. I need to see you,” he was back to desperation. His knuckles grazing against the door again.

“Give her time,” Kyle soothed, through his own gritted teeth. He couldn't understand how John had been so reckless. He had obviously left the folders in an accessible spot. You wouldn't just go snooping around. Kyle just hoped you didn't think he had anything to do with it.

It had been three hours. Your sobs had died down, making the house silent. That was almost worse. Kyle had talked him down multiple times from knocking your door down. The beta had to leave for training, leaving John by himself with his own thoughts. That had always been a deadly combination.

He had to relive it when Johnny came home, except the Scot wasn’t putting up with it. He grabbed a sharp tool out of his room, unlocking your door in five seconds flat. John stood up, but Johnny growled out a warning.

“Stay there,” he commanded. The alpha had no room to disagree with the burning beta. When they first met, John had assumed Johnny was an alpha based off of the way he carried himself.

“Peaches?” his voice was quiet and soft to not startle you.

“Go away,” you whined, making him wince.

“We had nothin’ to do with that, hen,” Johnny assured. He wasn't going to be in the doghouse because of the Captain’s mistake. Maybe on the field- but not when it comes to you. His hand reached out resting against your heated back. The emotional toll is already making you feel sick. You were burning up with a fever. “Come here, please,” it wasn't so much of a request as it was an order. You lifted your head up from the pillows, your raw eyes looking up at his. He whined low in his throat. His arms darting under your armpits, to pull you on top of him. You started sobbing again, the sounds hitting John on the other side of the door like a ton of bricks. You curled yourself against Johnny. You needed comfort, despite being mad at the world and everyone in it.

“He didn’t want me,” you mumbled sadly. “I called him alpha. I opened up to him. I trusted him. I slept with him. And the whole time he was wishing I was someone else,” you whined out. Johnny understood your hurt- he felt your hurt, yet he also knew that wasn't true in the slightest. John loved you madly.

“That's not true, Bon. He’s absolutely mad for you. He wouldn't trade you for anything or anyone. He had done it before he even met you, and he did it just to be obnoxious because Kate was pushing for you so hard and we weren't too keen on an omega- you know that,” Johnny reminded. You didn't want to be talked off the ledge. You wanted to jump. You wanted to be mad and be hurt without it being invalidated.

“But I wasn't enough to change his mind. Just one look at her on paper and she had him considering getting an omega,” you shot back. You tried pulling yourself away, wanting to find comfort in your sheets and not in the arms of Johnny. He didn't let you.

“Maybe for a split second, Bonnie. But if he had put any more thought into the situation he would've picked you. I know he would've,” Johnny reasoned. You weren't in the mood for reasoning.

“You can't prove that, Johnny. If he already had it in his mind that she would've been the better fit then I doubted I could've changed that,” your voice raised. John kept his ear against the door, his heart twisting painfully. “The only reason I was let into this pack was because Simon was hurt. He didn't care what omega Kate had picked for him as long as he could use them.” you had pulled yourself off of him, moving to a stand.

“Exactly! He didn't care which one he got. He didn't have his heart set on her bonnie. If he did he would've asked for her. You weren't written off because he didn't want you, you were written off because if he had approved you, you would've been flown out here the next day and none of us were ready for that yet. I know the reason you joined the pack feels like you were being used and you were. We’ll all admit that. But that's the world we come from, Bonnie. We are all puppets for our higher-ups to get what they want. They ship us off to the corners of the earth to fight in some war that no one, besides them, has reaped any benefits from. We are all being used in some way and you were too when you joined the pack. But I can promise you this, beautiful- and I can speak for everyone when I say we love you so fucking much. You're the best thing that has happened to us and we wouldn't trade you for anything,” he finished, his voice cracking at the last sentence.

You hated that his words made everything feel alright again. You still had lingering resentment at John and you probably would for a while- and every time you thought about it. But Johnny had made some good points- sincere points. Besides you had pulled a similar stunt with Simon not too long ago, and he managed to forgive you. You rested your head against Johnny’s shoulder, letting your body weight fall against him. You just needed some sleep.

You had woken up to a knock at your door. You were by yourself, but you could still feel the warmth of Johnny against the sheets.

“Come in,” you groaned. You needed water. It was John, carrying a takeout container of food. It was too dark for you to make out too much of him, yet you could feel the emotion dripping off of him.

“You need to eat,” He said softly. He flicked your desk light on. His beard was unkempt from him running his fingers through it. His eyes were so red and puffy, you were sure it was agonizing to blink. It hurt you to see him that way- yet you looked no better. His hand darted out, a natural instinct to guide you to your chair. You dodged away from him, sitting down yourself. He sighed, slowly sitting down on the edge of your bed. You remained silent. You didn't want to eat the food he had brought you- you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of taking care of you (like he always had), but you were starved, not having eaten since this morning. He remained quiet as you scarfed down your meal, his fingers picking at the calluses on his palms.

You closed it up, taking a few gulps of the water he had brought. You flicked the light back off beginning to get back into bed, until he grabbed you. You squirmed against him mumbling a few ‘let me go’s.’ He paid no mind holding you against his chest, his legs trapping you between them.

He buried his face in your neck, his grip on your constricting.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, making you halt. He sounded so small. He was no longer the booming alpha whose mere presence offered your protection and stability. Now he was afraid. Afraid that you didn't want him anymore. Afraid that you didn't want to be here. Afraid that you had regretted what had happened between the two of you. “I can't have you despise me, sweetheart. I just can't,” he whispered. Since you've joined he’s been discovering new things about himself every day. He was quicker to fall in love than he thought. He could be a good alpha to an omega. He was also weaker than he thought. If you had told him four months ago a little omega he was still getting to know could bring him to his knees so quickly he would’ve told you to fuck off.

His sad scent was seeping into you, softening the chilled edges of your heart. He was regretful, you could tell. You relaxed into him causing him a sigh of relief. “I love you,” he murmured. You didn't say it back and he didn't expect you to. “So much,” he continued.

“You didn't mean it, John,” you replied softly, your hand resting against his back. You may have forgiven, but you weren't going to forget so easily. He could tell by your tone. You could get in your head so easily. He supposed he could too. He pressed a kiss against your cheek, finally letting you go. You remained against him for a moment, before pulling away. He stayed solemn as he grabbed the containers off your desk, heading back towards the door. He paused by the door, resisting the urge to beg you to let him stay. To let him curl himself around you and make everything better. He settled for a quiet ‘goodnight’ the door shutting behind him.

He wasn't sure how you'd take the information. He couldn't imagine you’d be happy- he prayed you wouldn't be. That would be the ultimate jab.

“Sweetheart,” He greeted. You looked up from your phone, offering him a small smile. Things had been awkward between the two of you- not that you had had much contact since last night.

“We have a new assignment. Me and Kyle leave in two hours,” He explained. When your face fell he was relieved. What if you were just sad for Kyle? He chewed back the thought.

“How long will you be gone?” You questioned.

“Shouldn't be more than a week. It’s a fairly easy one,” he sighed. It was silent for a moment. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

“I’ll miss you,” you breathed. You started to pull away but he held you there. He just needed a moment longer.

When you saw Kyle you nearly tackled him over, your face smushing against his. He tried not to take it personally. You were still hurt. Feeling like you were second best and unwanted. He had to understand that. He was trying to understand that. Hopefully, his being gone will soften you.

“Come on pups, time for your walks,” Simon spoke, grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the counter and his mask. Vernie had learned that whenever Simon grabbed his cigarettes it was time for a walk. She wormed her way out of your lap, bounding over to the door. Simon attached her leash holding it out for you. It was dark out. The night sky making you think of your first kiss- then John.

You three walked along a walking path, Simon making sure to put himself between you and groups of jogging soldiers.

“Simon?” you asked. He grunted in response.

“How did you get over me not putting you down as my alpha? That must've felt like a rejection,” you questioned. While they weren't entirely in the same situation, you felt maybe Simon could offer you some advice.

“It did,” he replied bluntly. “But then I realized I hadn't been acting too alpha-ish to you. Then you heard me say all that bullshit that night so I didn't have any room to be upset at you anymore,” he explained, guiding you off to the side. He pulled out his cigarettes, rolling his mask up to his nose. You bit back a giggle. “I’m still surprised you weren't more upset about it,” he sighed. “At least not that you've shown.”

You would still think about his words- less and less over the past few weeks. You don't know why but they didn't burn you as much as John's actions had. Maybe it was because your feelings were stronger for John? Or maybe it was because you knew deep down Simon didn't mean it. But John's actions had confirmed a belief you had about not being good enough. You gasped softly. That was it.

“Confirmation bias,” you gasped. Simon narrowed his eyes at you. “John didn't think I was good enough to be in the pack- and I had already felt that way. That's why it still hurts so bad,” you explained your thought process.

“You need to get that out of your head,” Simon spoke. “It wasn't like we all sat around and discussed every omega and came to the conclusion someone was a better fit than another. The old man probably didn't even have his glasses on when he was skimming through the profiles,” Simon huffed. He knew his Captain. Every decision he made was well thought out and concise. If he had really wanted to pick an omega he would’ve interviewed each of you himself, made you fill out a ten-page survey, and discuss it with each member of the pack individually. Also, Laswell had sent the papers electronically, he had just printed off a copy to mess with. Probably after a rough mission and one too many whiskeys. The rest of your sentence finally hit him. “What do you mean not good enough?”

“Well, I mean you know,” you started, shrugging.

“No, I don't bloody know. That's why I'm asking,” he shot back.

“Kate has always said what an indispensable and vital pack you are. That's all anyone here talks about. Omegas come up to me all the time and ask what it's like to be a part of this pack, or how I got into this pack. Nobody believes I got in by just being myself,” you explained.

“They don't know you then,” he snapped. “Then they'd be askin’ why we were daft enough to go so long without you,” he pressed the rest of his cigarette out, grabbing another from the pack.

“Simon?”

“Yes, pup,” he sighed.

“Kiss me?”

He paused the cigarette still hanging between his lips, the flame just a few centimeters away. “What?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“Please?” you breathed. Your hands reached out gripping the front of his jacket. His heart hammered in his chest, your eyes staring up at him wide and wanting. His hands covered yours, not making any move to push them off. He couldn't break himself away, his eyes holding yours as his head lowered. He stopped right in front of you, his lips brushing against yours. You stared back equally enthralled. You closed the distance, your eyes fluttering shut, as you pressed your mouth against his. He reciprocated instantly, pushing his head forward to deepen this kiss. Your hands moved up to hold his jaw and he quickly grabbed the leash from you not wanting it to get in the way of you touching him. Your hands cupped his face, pulling him impossibly closer, gasping when his teeth nipped your bottom lip. He smirked against you and you had half a mind to pull away as punishment until he backed you against a tree. You gasped his name, making him groan against you, his hands digging into the fabric around your hips.

He hoisted you up, his neck already growing sore. His kisses were exactly like your relationship with him. Starting off sweet, then a battle of teeth and tongue, then back to sweet before you could decide which one you liked best. You pulled away with a deep inhale, your lungs burning from forgetting to breathe. He ‘tsked’ softly, pressing kisses against your jaw.

“Don’t know how he didn't mark you, sweet girl. I'd be sinking my jaws into you the moment you’re under me,” he mumbled, his teeth nipping against your neck in emphasis. You moaned quietly, making him smile. He pressed one last kiss against your neck, setting you back down on wobbly feet. “Don’t look at me like that, pup. We’re in public,” he reprimanded playfully, handing you back Vernie’s leash. “Besides I’m not done playing hard to get,” he chuckled. Your phone buzzed in your pocket making you jolt. You pulled it out, seeing John’s number, pressing the red button before you really thought about it.

“The fuck was that?” he growled. “Call him back,” he urged. You quickly did as you were told, not quite sure why you had done that in the first place.

He answered immediately.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly.

“S’alright. Just figured you weren't in the mood to talk, pretty,” he cleared his throat. You wondered how much he had hurt in those seconds you denied his call. “Just wanted to let you know me and Kyle are where we’re supposed to be.” he explained.

“Good. Good,” you replied softly. You were quiet for a moment. “John, I love you. You know that right?” you breathed. You heard him inhale sharply on the other line, before clearing his throat again. You could feel yours constrict as well.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He breathed back. He needed that. He needed to know you weren't back home stewing at him. “I love you and I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”

“I’ll be waiting,” you responded, your eyes blurring at the tightness in his voice. “Bye.”

“Bye, pretty girl.”

You buried your face in Simon’s chest, wrapping your arms around him as you cried lowly. You wished John was back, so you could curl up in his arms again. You wished you hadn't given him the cold shoulder before he left. What if something happened while he was away and your last physical interaction was you worming your way out of a hug? His hug.

“Easy, pup,” Simon soothed. His hands smoothing over your back. He wanted to scold you for not answering the first time. He could only imagine how John was feeling after being shipped away while not on the best terms with you. It was hard enough when you were on good terms. “Need a cigarette?” Simon questioned making you chuckle after your crying had slowed. You shook your head softly. He kept an arm around you, beginning the trek back home. “Don’t worry about it, pup. You've got a lot on your mind. Sometimes people do things without meaning harmful intent,” he soothed. You caught the double meaning of his words, and you pressed yourself closer.

“Simon. What would happen if something were to happen to you out there and you couldn't be sent back to base?”

He sucked in air through his teeth.

“Well we would get to the safest spot we could and try to be fixed up enough to be sent back here,” he explained.

“What if you couldn't though? Be sent back here?” you pressed.

“What would you want to happen?” he questioned. He didn't want to put ideas out there you weren't comfortable with. The easiest way to get the answer you wanted was by making you say it yourself.

“I’d want to be sent to where you were. No matter where it is or how dangerous it is. I'd want to be with you,” you nearly demanded.

“That's why you were paired with us, pup,” Simon smirked. “You’re just as brave and stupid as the rest of us.”

Hi friends! See you in three days for chapter 26! 🧡

[ennn]

Agatha x Rio Fic Rec Master List

Everyone has their own fic preferences. My personal recommended picks here, AUs included, that generally check off these boxes:

Balanced power dynamic i.e. no sugar baby fantasies here, no dependencies, they give as good as they get

Some plot i.e. no pure smut fics here, though some have them bangin' quite a bit

Characterisation i.e. ideally cunt4cunt freak4freak, although some AUs have them a lot softer than canon but I can roll with it if the power dynamic holds

Last updated: 13 Mar '25.

Now, in no order of merit:

Go enjoy all their works, they've written a bunch of stuff. Here are just highlights:

@thiswildernessismyhome

allow my love to find her brutal way to me

[ 9k words | one-shot ] An angsty time loop fic that gets these characters so right and will punch you right in the feels. Maybe more than once.

memory that presses like a blade against her throat

[ 4.3k words | one-shot ] Pain and sweet pathos with spot-on banter. Explores Agatha’s trauma from her mom. Rio gets protective, cute, and vengeful.

yeahitshowed

real hot ghoul shit

[ 15.4k words | multi-chapter | series ] Set post-AAA. It's wacky, it's angsty, it's great. Agatha and Rio attempt to work out their shit. Billy is trying his best. Now with a whole ghoulniverse of sequels.

sometimes i still feel the bruise

[ 3.2k words | one-shot ] Agatha is not taking her first Pride very well. It’s all the trauma. A fantastic exploration of the character with all her edges and soft underbelly.

@paddingtonfan69

now I understand, and it’s time to leave the woods

[ 15.9k words | multi-chapter | series ] One of the best backstory fic for these two that absolutely nails their dynamic. Angsty and silly and horny as you'd expect with these two.

someday we will all be lying on our backs (free at last from income tax) 

[ 13.1k words | multi-chapter | series ] The gold standard for fandom AUs. The bad boy of the IRS meets infamous tax evader Agatha Harkness.

@alilbitgaywrites

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

[ 4.4k words | first of a series ] Death has a cabin in Delaware. The first of a relatively chill (for them) canon-divergent series where these two clash, banter, and begin to heal.

you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

[ 32k words | multi-chapter ] Expands upon canon (so expect glorious angst) and maybe fixes it a little. Agatha and Rio through the years and into the show.

Naturally if you like a fic, check out the author's other works

because i could not stop for death (she kindly stopped for me) – by @she-s-a-shy-one

[ 70k words | multi-chapter | series ] The historical epic fic. Takes on Agathario's messed up backstory through many different eras and disasters. Hope you like history! Oof, that's a lot of collateral damage, Agatha.

A Graveyard Hated by the Moon – by @viceroy-bubblesmutini

[ 5.5k words | first of a series ] Can't get enough murderous historical escapades with these two? Here's more of this terrible pair causing problems.

blood, sweat & tears – by clarkestrife

[ 20.1k words | multi-chapter | wip ] They meet for the first time after Nicky's death. Let's just say Agatha doesn't deal with it well and has a mean left hook. Heavy on the hurt and angst.

wicked thing, carved into my heart – by @coffeeshib

[ 23.9k words | 2 chapters ] Post canon, the exes fight and fuck. It's sexy, violent, mean and angsty. It's very on-point characterisation, what can I say.

A Wretched Soul – by @motherconfessors

[ 31k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Ep 8 divergent. Agatha makes a new deal with Rio so she can get her purple back. A story of grief, healing, a lot of sex and... amazing food?

All and then Most of you, Some and now None of you – by @momentary-ecstasy

[ 34.5k words | multi-chapter ] Post-canon. Agatha succeeds at taking Death's powers. Rio wakes up with no memories. Captivating plot, lots of death, sex with strings attached, and a coven reunited. It's never simple with these two.

For You To Be Still – by @momentary-ecstasy

[ 27.4k words | multi-chapter ] To save Rio from the Snap's fallout, Agatha binds them together. A plotty, fascinating adventure also featuring the coven and the two dealing with their past.

coven of chaos – by @trickofthelights

[ 38.4k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Rio/Agatha/Wanda and their very weird found family. Crack taken seriously and written exquisitely well with thoughtful character explorations. It's fun and epic with great banter. Everyone lives!

you’ll sanctify me when i’m dead  – by @majorlysapphic

[ 26.3k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Rio has Hanahaki Disease and has to work with Agatha while hiding her plan to retire permanently. These two idiots, etc.

a hundred miles through the desert repenting – by @sapphoshands

[ 3.9k words | one-shot ] Perhaps my favourite ep 5 fix-it. Pain and pathos lovingly written.

Rabbit Heart – by @sapphoshands

[ 4.8k words | multi-chapter ] Post-finale scenes featuring our favourite Señor Scratchy, including a satisfying follow-up for our ship.

how the dead walk – by obsetress

[ 7.2k words | one-shot ] Post canon, these two talk and work out the logistics (and emotions) behind ghost sex.

meet you where the spirit meets the bones – by daniandjamie

[ 13.5k words | multi-chapter ] I know turbo virgin!Rio isn't for everyone. But if you enjoy it, this one's real cute and funny and an interesting take on how Death gets a body.

better in the dark – by @seabiscuits-us

[ 12.8k words | one-shot ] More turbo virgin!Rio trying to figure this shit out while Agatha enjoys the process. It's cute times before the inevitable heartbreak.

For the Love of Spring – by FleetingFriend

[ 10k words | one shot ] Post-AAA story. Rio turns into an onion, Agatha takes the opportunity to remember and grieve and heal. Maybe grab those tissues for the end.

As with many AUs, expect softer takes for these two unless the fic has y'know, killing and violence. Again, in no order:

Put Your Fangs In Me – by villhag

[ 73.9k words | multi-chapter | series | wip ] The other gold standard in AUs. Two vampire best friends with a lot of history are more than what they seem. What starts off like a rom com with casual murder reveals itself to be a heartbreaking love story spanning centuries.

honey come put your lips on mine (and shut me up) – by tinyteamug

[ 40.4k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Retired hockey pro-turned-publicist Agatha is tasked with managing feral hotshot hockey player Rio. A hilarious time with these two driving each other nuts in the best way.

primal night – by Palmarion

[ 13.2k words | multi-chapter ] Rio is another version of Death, Agatha is human and they meet one Halloween night at Rio’s bar. Nicky happens unexpectedly. A comforting romantic story.

all my might – by goofball46

[ 15.6k words | multi-chapter | wip ] After breaking up 10 years ago, the two have to pretend to be a couple (again) to help Agatha's political campaign. We do love our angst and unresolved drama. They're so bad at communicating.

To Hate Her is to Love Her – by @justasimplelesbiansfanfic

[ 166k words | multi-chapter | series ] Agatha gets her estranged wife Rio to pretend they’re still together for the holidays. A long, angsty slow burn with plot involving crime and the FBI, and these two figuring their issues out.

spite, grudges, and other underrated methods of processing your feelings – by @littledata

[ 10k words | one-shot ] If working for her ex (who sent her to jail) wasn’t enough, Rio’s been hired to kill her. All's fair in politics? It’s a fun ride.

How to not keep a secret – by disaster_top

[ 102k words | multi-chapter ] See I can recommend domestic Agathario playing house with Nicky. Rio loves her knives. A series of interconnected one-shots where they deal with different stuff. FBI Agent Rio and Detective Agatha (not Agnes).

queens of killing (we're out for blood) – by @succulentlesbians

[ 64.9k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Winter Soldier/Red Room AU. Plotty, dramatic, secret agent action. Plenty of angst when one was programmed to kill their own kid. Plus, coven team-bonding.

all half things – by @seabiscuits-us

[ 20.2k words | multi-chapter ] High school soccer coach Rio tries her best to make sure her super-pregnant teacher colleague Agatha doesn't go into labour while they try to save the school theatre department. It's charming and quirky with a side of drama.

this machine's a backward thinker – by @slowedshow

[ 35.7k words | multi-chapter | wip ] Lawyer Agatha, Doctor Rio AU. When Agatha decides to help her deceased client's son find his lost brother she didn't expect to find her way back to love and forgiveness. Brilliant parallels within this story and the show canon punched me hard in the feels.

my safeword is safeword – by @anonfandombandit

[ 63.3k words | multi-chapter | wip ] The uh BDSM AU. It's wild, it's hilarious, it's uh very educational if you're unfamiliar with the scene? Agatha's insane and working off some bad trauma, Rio's desperately trying her best to remain professional. Naturally lots of kinky sex.

· · ────────── 𖥸 ────────── · ·

♥ to the fabulous authors giving us these stories

[briefinquiries]

Under the Blood Moon | Peaky Blinders | Chapter 26

Tommy Shelby x Reader: Chapter 26

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 |Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26

Fic Summary: You came to Birmingham for a fresh start, to bury the past and keep your head down. As a former nurse in the war, you’ve seen enough blood and death to last a lifetime. But fate (and the Shelby’s) have other plans. After stitching Tommy Shelby back together, you find yourself drawn further into their world, a world of violence, loyalty, and power. When Tommy offers you a job, it comes with more than just good pay, it comes with expectations and lines you never planned to cross.

Chapter summary: Tommy leaves the hospital to handle business tied to the growing threat, you remain behind to watch over Finn. In the quiet hours that follow, the weight of everything they've endured begins to settle in. .

Word count:  5.5k

Warnings: Violence, injury, mentions of blood, physical assault, PTSD and war flashbacks, language, and emotional distress

--

Finn had been in the hospital for five days before he finally woke up enough to have a full conversation. 

The first few days had been touch and go. His eyes would flicker open, he’d offer a few slurred words, maybe a weak squeeze of the hand, before drifting off again. But that morning, when you walked into the room with a fresh cup of tea for yourself and a glass of water for him, he was already awake. Propped slightly on a pillow. Eyes open while he talked to Tommy. 

You paused in the doorway, just for a second.

Tommy sat beside the bed, his posture relaxed in the way only exhaustion could bring. One arm rested on the chair, the other lightly gripping the edge of Finn’s blanket. His coat was off and sleeves rolled. 

Finn looked small but alert. His skin was still pale, and the dark circles under his eyes hadn’t faded, but he was awake and speaking clearly. His voice was soft and hoarse, but steady enough to hold a conversation. He said something low to Tommy. It was something you couldn’t quite catch, but it made Tommy let out a short, quiet laugh. It was quick, almost under his breath, but you hadn’t heard him laugh like that in days.

The tightness in your chest loosened, just a little.

You stepped fully into the room, and the sound of the teacup tapping against the water glass in your hand drew their attention.

Tommy turned to look at you. His eyes flicked down briefly to what you were holding before lifting back to yours.

“He’s asking for sweets,” he said, nodding toward Finn. “Says the food here’s terrible.”

You walked to the side of the bed and raised an eyebrow at Finn. “Glad to hear you’re feeling better.”

Finn gave you a tired smile. “They just brought me by some toast. There was no jam. Not even butter.”

You set the tea down and moved to help him sit up a little straighter. “God forbid.”

“I mean, I’m already suffering, I might as well do it with some jam,” he said.

Tommy gave a small shake of his head. “You’ll get jam once you can stand without falling over.”

Finn groaned. “How long will that be?”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “You’ll heal faster if you do what you’re told.”

Finn looked at him, unimpressed. “You never did what you were told when you got hurt.”

You blinked and turned to Tommy. “Is that so?”

Tommy gave a slight shrug, clearly not interested in revisiting that particular memory. “That was a completely different situation.”

You and Finn exchanged a look.

“Shelby logic,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Finn smiled again, smaller this time. His eyelids were already starting to droop again.

You reached for his cup and set it aside, letting him settle back against the pillows.

“You can rest, love,” you said softly. “We’ll be right here.”

He didn’t argue. Within moments, his breathing slowed again, deeper now, steadier. His face relaxed as he drifted off.

You let out a long breath as soon as his eyes closed. It was a quiet exhale you hadn’t even realized you were holding. Not until the fear loosened its grip.

Tommy reached for your hand. His thumb brushed lightly across your knuckles.

“He’s alright,” he said. 

You curled your fingers around his before leaning back in your chair. You glanced at Finn, then at Tommy. “Tommy, what are we going to do?” you asked. “The men who did this– they’re still out there. They could come back.”

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze was steady on Finn, but you could see the shift in his posture, the way his jaw tensed, the way his thumb stopped moving against your hand.

“They won’t,” he said eventually. 

You studied his face. “You don’t know that.”

“No,” he admitted. “But I’ll make sure of it.”

You hesitated, then asked, “How?”

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, weighing how much to say.

“I’ve had someone watching every point of contact since the night Finn was taken,” he said finally. “Every alley, every shipment, every man who’s ever shaken hands with the Italians in this city.”

You frowned slightly. “Since when?”

“Since the wedding,” he said. “I knew Luca wouldn’t stop.”

“And?” you asked. “What’ve they found?”

Tommy leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, voice low so as not to wake Finn.

“He’s got people doing the work for him. Not just the Italians. Locals, too. Some of our own.”

Your stomach turned. “What?”

Tommy nodded once. “That’s how they got to Finn. Whoever let them through knew when and where to hit.”

He sat back slightly, his eyes narrowing like he could see it all playing out again in his head.

“Luca doesn’t kick down the door himself,” Tommy said. “He bribes the man who’s meant to be watching it. Men like him don’t come to finish the job unless they know they’ve already won,” he continued. 

You glanced at Finn, your hand still curled lightly around Tommy’s.

Tommy followed your gaze. “He could’ve come after me. After Arthur. After any of the men who’ve had a hand in this war. But he chose Finn.” He paused, eyes fixed on the boy in the bed.  “A child. A boy who had no part in any of this.”

His hand clenched once in yours, then loosened.

“If Luca Changretta wants a war, I’ll fucking show him one.”

Tommy’s eyes were still locked on Finn, his jaw set, his shoulders coiled tight like a man already halfway out the door. The shift in him was subtle, but you knew it well by now. You saw the way he straightened his spine, the way his expression flattened into focus. It was the version of him that didn’t hesitate. The one who made decisions with blood on the line.

He looked down at your joined hands for a beat, like he wasn’t quite ready to let go.

Then he stood slowly, his fingers lingering in yours until the last second.

“I need to check in with Johnny Dogs,” he said, his voice clipped, already shifting back into motion. “We’ve got movement near the rail yard.”

Your stomach tightened.

Of course he had to go. Of course this couldn’t wait. But that didn’t stop the sharp prickle of unease crawling up your spine.

“You’re going now?” you asked, trying to keep your tone even.

He nodded. 

You glanced at Finn, then back at Tommy. “I just…” you paused, trying to find the words without making it harder than it already was. 

Tommy let out a quiet sigh. “You just what?” 

You shook your head. “Never mind.”

There was something in his expression. An understanding, maybe, or guilt, or just the same exhaustion you felt. Like he knew what you were trying not to say: that you were tired of him walking out the door and not knowing what kind of version of him would come back. Or if he would come back at all.

“Go on. Just say it,” he said. 

“I know we’ve been cooped up in this hospital for days, worried about Finn and eating shitty hospital food. But we finally got a minute. Just us. Without the next fire already waiting.”

Tommy didn’t move, didn’t interrupt.

“I knew it wouldn’t last forever. I know you have a job to do” you added. “But that minute was nice, that’s all.”

He looked down for a second, jaw working slightly, then back at you.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice was quieter now. It wasn’t fragile. Tommy Shelby was never fragile. But it was honest in a way he rarely let himself be.

You nodded, arms folding across your chest. “It’s alright. I just wish it could’ve lasted a little longer.”

He stepped forward then, gently, like he was approaching something delicate. He reached for your hand again, his fingers closing around yours.

“We’ll have more minutes,” he said. “Once this is done.”

You searched his face for a lie, but there wasn’t one. Just the same tired man who kept doing what he had to do because he didn’t know how to stop.

“Go,” you said finally, voice low. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

Tommy gave a single nod. He leaned in, kissed the side of your head, and let his hand fall away as he turned for the door.

You watched him go. Again.

You sat back down beside Finn’s bed, the chair groaning slightly under your weight as you settled into it like someone bracing for another long stretch of waiting.

…

The wind off the canal carried the stink of coal smoke and stagnant water. Tommy stepped out of the car without a word, shoulders stiff against the cold. Gravel shifted beneath his boots, sharp and loud in the stillness. He paused, glancing around the loading yard.

Tommy hadn’t been entirely honest with you earlier. He’d said it was a check-in with Johnny Dogs, nothing more. No point in making you worry about another possible setup, not when you’d just started to breathe again with Finn stable.

But the message that came two nights ago had been too precise to ignore. Someone claiming to speak for Luca. A neutral party. Promising terms. A place to talk.

Tommy didn’t believe in clean negotiations. Not with a man like Changretta. But if there was even a slim chance he could end this before another bullet flew, he had to see it through. 

Arthur climbed out after Tommy, scanning the dark edges of the yard with sharp eyes. He sniffed once, wiped his nose on the back of his glove, and muttered, “Place looks like it’s been dead a week.”

Tommy didn’t answer. His eyes were already tracking the shadows, the dim pools of light cast by a few failing lamps. 

Arthur stayed close, scanning every movement in the distance, but Tommy stood still. His gaze lingered on the far end of the lot. A delivery van passed in the street behind them. No one got out. No one pulled up. Nothing.

Johnny Dogs waited near the edge of the loading yard, half-hidden behind a stack of old crates. He didn’t wave. Just watched Arthur and Tommy approach with that taut, wary look he wore when something didn’t sit right.

Tommy lit a cigarette as he came up alongside him.

“Well?” he asked.

“No one’s shown,” he said without waiting for a greeting. “Nothing all day. Lads been posted since morning. Not a single fucker.”

Tommy nodded once, but his mind was already turning.

“Sure this is the right spot?” Arthur asked, stepping beside him. 

Tommy didn’t answer right away. He looked at the crates again. The open space. The clear exits. Too convenient.

“I’m sure,” he said. 

Arthur frowned. “You think they backed out?”

“No,” Tommy said. Even as he said it, the weight of the realization settled in his chest, cold and sharp. He took a slow drag from his cigarette and exhaled through his nose. “They were never going to show,” he muttered. “They wanted to know where I’d be.”

He’d known the message felt too clean. He’d known Luca didn’t send warnings. So why had he let himself believe it might be different this time? Because he was tired? Because he wanted to end it without more loss? 

He swallowed hard, jaw tight.

Arthur said something beside him, but it barely registered. A thin ringing had started in his ears, the kind he hadn’t felt since France, right before the shelling would start.

He turned slowly, his breath coming faster now, though he didn’t show it. Not on the surface.

“They wanted me away from the hospital.”

Arthur went still.

And now Tommy slowly turned, looking over his shoulder like he could already feel how far away he'd let himself get.

“They’re going after Finn,” he said.

“Fuck,” Arthur spat, already running back toward the car.

Tommy dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his heel, then he turned and followed, fast.

…

You sat beside Finn’s hospital bed, your body folded into the chair like you hadn’t moved in hours. Your head rested lightly against the edge of the mattress, one hand still holding his. His fingers twitched now and then in his sleep, weak but warm, a small reassurance that he was still fighting.

The room was dim. Just the overhead monitor lights cast a soft green glow around. It had been quiet since Tommy left about an hour ago.

You didn’t sleep, not really. Just let your eyes close every so often, tuning in to Finn’s breathing, the soft beep of the machines.

Then, the door creaked open.

You lifted your head slowly, groggy but alert.

A doctor stepped inside. 

He froze just past the threshold, like he hadn’t expected anyone to be there.

“Oh,” he said. “You’re… still here.”

Five days in the hospital meant you’d seen just about every doctor and nurse on this floor. Even the overnight staff. But you didn’t recognize this one.

“We’ve been staying with him. Didn’t want him waking up alone,” you said quietly, forcing a small smile as you rested your hand back over Finn’s.

The man gave a tight smile of his own, stepping inside a little farther now. “Of course,” he said. “That’s… that’s good of you.”

He glanced briefly at the monitors, then down at Finn. Not in a way that seemed particularly concerned, more like he was checking the room.

You leaned back a little farther in your seat, watching him.

“I thought I’d seen the entire staff rotation these last few days, but I haven’t seen you before yet,” you offered lightly. “You just come on shift?”

There was the briefest pause before he answered.

“Yes. Just filling in.”

He stepped a little closer to the bed, flipping open the clipboard in his hands without really looking at it.

“I’ve got some pain medication,” he said casually. “Just to help him rest a bit easier. Should take the edge off.”

You frowned.

Finn had been given pain meds less than an hour ago. You remembered the nurse coming in gently. She’d even explained the dosage aloud while logging it in the chart.

You straightened slightly in your chair. “They already gave him something,” you said, voice still even but firmer now. “About forty minutes ago.”

The man didn’t look at you right away. Just stared at the clipboard like he was reading something.

“Oh,” he said after a beat. “Well, this is a different dosage. Coordinated by a different team.”

You tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing. “Which team?”

Another beat.

Then he smiled again, too quickly. “Pediatrics. Just an adjustment.”

You glanced toward Finn, then back at the man.

“I’d like to check with the nurse on duty first.”

The smile faded. Just a flicker.

“There’s no need,” he said, a little too quickly. “Really. It’s all logged—”

“I said I’d like to check,” you repeated, louder now, rising slowly from your chair.

The man’s posture shifted, almost imperceptibly, but you saw it. Then, the man’s hand dipped into his coat. When it came out, he was holding a syringe.

Time seemed to stutter. For a split second, you couldn’t move. Your mind tried to catch up to what your eyes were seeing.

Then he lunged.

You stumbled backward, the chair screeching across the tile as it tipped over behind you. The man came at you fast, expression flat and focused, the needle clutched tightly in his fist.

You barely caught his wrist mid-swing, and shoved back with everything you had, your forearm slamming into his chest. The syringe dropped to the floor with a soft clatter, but his other hand grabbed your shoulder, shoving you hard into the wall.

You kicked out, caught him in the shin. He cursed, accent thick and definitely not local, and stumbled, but recovered fast. You barely had time to breathe before he slammed into you, tackling you hard onto the tile.

You hit the ground flat, the air knocked from your lungs, your head bouncing off the floor with a dull crack that made your vision blur.

Then he was on top of you.

Heavy. Hands everywhere. One clamped hard around your wrist, the other scrambling down toward your side—your coat, your pockets, something he was trying to get to. The syringe. Or worse.

You fought blindly.

Your knee came up hard, catching him in the ribs. He grunted but didn’t move. His other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and slammed your head back into the floor.

The lights above spun.

“What’s going on?” Finn’s voice cut through the haze.

It was thin. Fragile. The sound of a boy barely awake and already afraid. But you couldn’t turn to look. Couldn’t reassure him. 

All you could see was the man straddling your hips, his face inches from yours, sweat beading at his brow, nostrils flaring, breath hot and sour on your cheek. His jaw clenched tight, lips pulled back just enough to show his teeth. There was a smear of blood on his neck now. Yours, maybe, you couldn’t tell.

His eyes never blinked.

You saw the spit gathered at the corners of his mouth. Saw the twitch of his fingers as his hand moved toward your throat, slow but certain, like he wanted to feel the life leaving you. 

You twisted beneath him, arms pinned, the back of your head slick with blood against the tile.

His fingers closed around your neck, squeezing hard. 

Your breath cut off instantly, a strangled gasp catching in your throat as pressure surged against your windpipe. Your back arched instinctively, heels kicking against the slick tile as you clawed at his wrist, nails digging into skin that didn’t give.

The weight of him crushed down on your chest. Your lungs screamed for air.

Your vision blurred at the edges, black creeping in like spilled ink. You heard your own pulse thudding in your ears, heavy and distant.

One arm was still trapped beneath his knee, useless. The other scraped blindly along the floor, your fingers twitching and skittering across smooth tile, desperately searching, grabbing at nothing.

The panic was animal now. Pure survival.

And then, your fingertips hit something. Cold. Flat. Metal. The trauma shears.

You wrapped your hand around them and wrenched upward, muscles screaming, body twisting.

The next second, you were swinging.

You swung upward first, the blunt-edged blades catching him across the ribs. He snarled through gritted teeth, fingers still crushing your windpipe, his face inches from yours, breath hot and sour. Black was creeping in around the edges of your vision now, your body screaming for air—

You swung again, harder.

This time, the shears connected with the side of his neck.

Not deep, but enough.

He shouted, voice guttural and animal, recoiling with a sharp jerk. The pressure on your throat loosened just enough for you to drag in a desperate, choking breath.

You coughed, wheezed, and drove your shoulder into him, pushing him off balance. He staggered back, clutching the side of his neck where blood was already welling between his fingers.

You lunged after him.

Not because he was still a threat. Not because he was getting back up. But because he might. Because he would, if you gave him the chance.

You straddled his chest, one knee digging into his ribs, your hand still clenched around the trauma shears. His eyes widened, but he reached for you again.

You didn’t let him.

You brought the shears down, once, through his chest.

Then again.

And again.

It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t careful. There was no technique to it, just the weight of adrenaline and terror crashing through your limbs like a storm.

He tried to yell, but it came out a gurgle. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

Your hands were soaked now, his blood warm and slick on your fingers, your arms, your clothes. Your breathing came in gasps, ragged and animal. You couldn’t stop shaking.

You raised the shears again.

The man beneath you wasn’t moving. His arms were slack, his face unrecognizable through the mess. But your body didn’t understand that yet. Your mind was still caught in the moment, in the fear, in the fury.

Your hand tightened around the handle. 

One more.

The door slammed open behind you.

“Jesus Christ—”

You froze.

Your chest was still heaving. Your knees still dug into the man’s ribs. But you didn’t move. Didn’t lower your arm. Just slowly turned your head toward the doorway.

Tommy stood there. Arthur right beside him, wide-eyed, a half-drawn pistol hanging forgotten in his hand.

The room was silent now, except for your breathing and the soft beeping of Finn’s monitor, still alive, still steady.

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just knelt there, frozen, blood smeared up your arms, drying in streaks across your hands and mouth. Your chest rose and fell too fast, each breath shallow and ragged. The trauma shears were still clenched in your fist, white-knuckled and rigid, as if some part of you believed he might get back up.

The room felt like it was underwater.

Then, Tommy's voice broke the silence. "Are you alright, Finn?"

“He was trying to kill me. But she stopped him.” His voice was thin and scared. "I'm alright."

You didn’t turn to look at him.

You just stared forward, eyes unfocused, fixed on the blood pooling beneath the man’s body, the red streaked across your skin, the shears lying motionless by your knee.

You couldn’t feel your hands. Or your legs. You weren’t even sure if you were breathing.

Tommy stepped forward slowly, like you were a wounded animal, still caught in the middle of the fight.

He didn’t speak.

His eyes dropped to your hand. The shears still gripped tight in your fist, the blades slick with blood, trembling slightly as they hovered in the space between you and the man on the floor.

“You can let go of them now,” he said softly, his voice low but steady. “It’s over. He's gone.”

Tommy took another step forward, slow and deliberate.

You didn’t respond. Your eyes didn’t leave the body. You looked like you couldn’t hear him, like your brain was still caught in the moment, waiting for the fight to start again.

“Give them to me, darling,” he said gently, reaching out but not touching you yet.

Tommy crouched down in front of you, just far enough to meet your eye line.

Your grip didn’t change.

Not at first.

But then slowly, your gaze lifted. It met his. Your eyes were wide, glassy, hollow. He saw the exact second you came back to yourself.

“Give them to me,” he repeated, softer this time.

Your fingers finally loosened. The shears fell into his open palm with a faint, wet clack.

Without taking his eyes off you, Tommy reached back and handed them to Arthur, who stepped forward silently and took them without a word.

And then your body collapsed.

You pitched forward into his chest, sobs breaking loose from your throat in jagged waves. You didn’t hold back. Your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, your fingers fisting in the back of his coat as you clung to him like gravity itself had given out.

Tommy caught you instantly, one arm strong around your back, the other at the back of your head, pulling you in close.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

Your entire body shook in his arms. Sobs tore through you with no rhythm or control. The weight of it all came crashing down at once: the fear, the blood, the way it could’ve gone so much worse.

Tommy’s hand moved gently, sliding up the back of your head to cradle it. He leaned in, forehead pressing against the side of yours.

You clenched your fists tighter in his coat, fingers aching, nails pressing into wool. The scent of him was thick in your nose. 

“He—” you choked. “I thought he was going to—”

Tommy pulled you closer, as if he could shield you from the memory itself.

“I know,” he said. 

During the war, you’d grown accustomed to death. You’d seen bullet wounds tear through men, grenades blow off limbs, and life slip away more times than you could count.

But you’d never been the one to take it. Until now.

And even though it had been his life or Finn’s, it still clung to you. In your clothes. In your hair. Under your nails. You could feel it in your bones, humming like something you couldn’t scrub off.

Tommy held you for another moment, then slowly shifted, rising to his feet and taking you with him. His arm stayed locked around your waist, steadying you as your knees threatened to buckle.

“Arthur,” he said, voice suddenly cold and clear. “Call John, he can help get the body out of here quietly. Have Polly come stay with Finn. I don’t want him alone.”

Arthur blinked, then gave a sharp nod. “Right.”

He moved fast, stepping around the blood, grabbing a sheet from the cabinet and crouching by the still form on the floor. You couldn’t even look at what you’d done.

Tommy’s hand came up to cradle the back of your head again, guiding you gently to his chest. “There we go,” he murmured. 

You didn’t argue.

You just let him hold you while the weight of what you’d done sank in, and the mess of it all began to be swept away. 

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You didn’t resist.

Your feet moved clumsily beneath you, barely aware of the sticky warmth of blood drying on your skin, or the dull ache in your knees and shoulders. You just followed the pressure of his hand at your back, leaning into him like he was the only thing keeping you upright.

Behind you, Arthur was already moving. The sound of fabric dragging across tile echoed faintly behind you as Tommy opened the door and guided you out into the hallway.

You blinked against the overhead lights, everything feeling too sharp, too clinical after the chaos of the room. 

There were no footsteps. No voices. No nurses with clipboards, no doctors making their rounds. The station at the end of the corridor sat empty. Even the usual low hum of activity had vanished.

You slowed, just slightly, scanning the space.

Nothing.

Just white tile. Pale walls. Abandoned chairs pushed crooked beneath tables. Machines left idle. A silence that stretched too long.

You didn’t ask.

Tommy said nothing either. Just adjusted his grip on you and kept walking. His pace was steady, purposeful. Like he already knew this floor was clear. Like it had been expected.

Like this, too, was part of the war.

He guided you through the back stairwell, down the side corridor, and out into the night. The cold hit your skin instantly, sobering and sharp. Tommy’s car waited at the curb. 

Tommy helped you in gently. But you didn’t remember buckling in, and you barely even noticed the drive.

When you pulled up in front of the house, you didn’t move right away. You stared out the window at the familiar shape of the doorway, the stone steps, the light flickering just inside the hall. 

Tommy came around and opened your door. He didn’t speak. Just reached for your hand.

You let him help you out of the car, your body still trembling. Inside, the house was quiet. Warmer than the hospital. But even that couldn’t touch the chill that had settled into your skin.

 Tommy gently guided you up the stairs, his hand steady at your back, and down the hall to your shared bedroom. The room was dim, untouched. He walked you straight to the adjoining bathroom. 

He turned on the tap, warm water rushing into the basin. Steam rose, fogging the mirror slightly. He found a clean towel on the shelf, poured warm water into a bowl like it was second nature, and soaked the cloth.

You stood by the door, unmoving. Watching.

“Come here,” he said quietly, holding the towel in one hand, his other extended.

You stepped toward him slowly.

He dipped the towel again, then reached for your wrist.

You flinched—not because it hurt, just because your skin still felt on fire with urgency.

His fingers were warm. The towel was even warmer. He moved slowly, wiping in steady, careful motions.

He started with your wrists. The insides, where blood had dried into fine lines like cracked paint. Then the backs of your hands, where bruises were already forming across your knuckles. He worked methodically, rinsing the towel, wringing it out, coming back again.

When he reached your forearms, you caught yourself holding your breath. 

He moved to your jaw next. The cloth brushed away a faint smear there, the pressure just enough to remind you flinch.

When he got to the streak along your cheekbone, he paused.

Just a beat.

Then he lifted the towel again and wiped gently, following with his thumb, soft and deliberate, like he wanted to wipe the memory of it. 

“I killed him,” you said suddenly. 

The words barely left your mouth. They didn’t sound like yours.

Tommy stilled. His hand hovered just beneath your jaw, not pulling away, not pressing closer. Just there.

“I know,” he said quietly.

You looked down, your vision narrowing to the floor tile between you. There was a smear of blood on your shirt sleeve, nearly dry now, the edges gone dark.

You swallowed hard, your throat raw. “I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. He was already down and I just– I couldn’t stop.”

He lowered the towel, letting it rest on the edge of the basin. Then he reached up and gently tilted your chin, just enough to meet your eyes.

“You did what had to be done,” he said, low. “That’s it.”

You shook your head, the weight of it all pushing back up through your chest, but Tommy was already shaking his.

“Don’t,” he said quietly. “Don’t start second-guessing it now. It was him or you and Finn. And you did what you had to do.”

His voice wasn’t cold, but it was certain. Solid.

You didn’t respond. Just stood there, still trembling faintly, still feeling like you were trapped inside your own skin.

Tommy watched you for a moment longer, then set the towel down beside the sink and stepped past you.

You turned your head slightly, following his movement with your eyes as he crossed to the tub. He turned the taps, adjusted the temperature, let the water begin to fill the basin.

It was so ordinary a thing, so domestic, it made something ache behind your ribs.

Steam began to rise, curling around the edges of the porcelain. He tested the water with his hand absentmindedly.

You hesitated for a second. The thought of peeling off your bloodied clothes made your stomach twist, but the weight of them was worse, the way they clung, stiff and damp, heavy with what had happened.

Your fingers moved slowly. First the buttons of your blouse, then the skirt. You peeled each layer away with care, as if the fabric might tear you open if you weren’t gentle.

Tommy didn’t watch. He turned slightly, giving you just enough space to move without feeling exposed, but still staying close.

When you were down to your skin, you stepped into the tub. The water was hot, almost too hot, but the sting felt grounding. You sank slowly, easing your body beneath the surface until the warmth wrapped around your chest and shoulders like a weighted blanket.

Your hands hovered for a moment over your knees, trembling faintly. You weren’t sure if the shaking would stop, even here.

You heard the soft shift of fabric behind you. Tommy’s coat, his boots, his shirt hitting the floor one piece at a time. 

The tub creaked as he climbed in behind you.

You didn’t turn to look, but you leaned back the second his arms opened. He pulled you against his chest, one arm looped gently around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub. 

The water lapped gently around you both. His breath was slow against your shoulder, and his skin was warm and solid behind you. 

“You shouldn’t have had to do that,” he said. Regretful in the way only he could be.

Your fingers, resting just above the surface of the water, twitched slightly. You swallowed, but still didn’t speak as you laid your head back against him. 

“But I’m glad that you did,” he said finally.

You felt the shift in his chest as he spoke, the rhythm of his breath syncing with yours. The weight of the day pressed into the room like fog. Tommy tightened his arm around your waist, anchoring you against him.

<< Previous Chapter

Next Chapter >> (coming soon)

[spencereidluver]

D is for Diana

august 25, 2008

summary: You overhear Spencer calling his mother and telling her about you and how he's finally found someone like him and who can understand him.

word count: 675

warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing

It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.

“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 

“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.

You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”

That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 

Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.

_____

With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.

As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.

“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”

There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.

Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”

Work? The girl he liked was at work? 

“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”

Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 

You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.

You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 

You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.

_____

next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version! 

_____

a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definitelymy favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology

[w2beastars]

Waezi2′s thoughts on “Beast Complex” chapter 25

So, I know we were all disgusted by the freak South who dated a lizard who was the same species as him(ewww). So I am happy to tell you all that we are going back to some good ol' freaky furry romance.

Better yet, this chapter is about Haru and Legosi!

The main couple of Beastars now practically live together since their universities are pretty close to each other. Haru is doing her third year in college and Legosi, now with a clean criminal record, is doing his first year in college, studying entomology.

Good for you, Legosi :) It is never too late to get back to school!

So, the wolf and the rabbit has been together for three years now and (for the most part) live together. You know what that means...

Oh yeah! They sleep together!

... In separate beds! There is no sex whatsoever!

Haru asks the same question as the rest of us: HOW?!?!?

Well, the first night Haru spent at Legosi's place, the ussual happened:

Like most wolves, Legosi makes small bites when he gets overly exited. Haru didn't get hurt, she got a scratch behind her ear, it's not the end of the world.

But afterwards, their relationship has been... well, casual.

There is no sexy atmosphere between them since the biting incident. They still spend their free time together, but it is almost like they are a middle-aged married couple where they brush their teeth together and everyday stuff like that. It bothers Haru a great deal since she is a college girl and it makes her feel old, makes the two of them feel old. She would like to get wild while she is still young... But to be fair, don't you think you had plenty of fun already, Haru?

I'm not slut-shaming or anything, just saying.

Anyways, Haru contacts Juno. Yep, everyone's favorite queen wolf is back!

Two things I noticed is that Haru now calls her "chan", implying a bit more friendly relationship between the two of them. Second is that even though Juno is here to give Haru input and advise about wolves, we don't get to learn anything about what her life is like right now.

YOU ARE KILLING ME, PARU!!! YOU ARE TORTURING ME SPECIFICALLY BY NOT LETTING US LEARN WHAT HER LIFE POST-LOUIS IS LIKE!

As I was saying, Haru wants Juno to give her advice to kick Legosi's wolf instincts into high gear. Juno is unsure if that's such a great idea(no duh!) but share what would normally make a male wolf... excited.

There is just one problem... Legosi is... well, Legosi.

He is a terrible mix of extremely polite, concerned and dense.

Nothing Haru does triggers Legosi, he misreads the signals completely and Haru starts to wonder if they have simply lost their spark.

Then, one night as Haru goes to bed disappointed that she haven't unleashed the beast so to say, she sees that Legosi is awake.

It's full moon, and Legosi can't help it but to stay up and watch it. Even if it is bogus that the moon should somehow affect wolves, Legosi and his fellow canines are still emotionally attached to it. Haru says she can relate to this to some degree, probably because rabbits have a religious connection to the moon.

This is possibly the first thing their species have in common. So the two of them goes for a late night/early morning stroll, enjoying the beautiful moon.

The two of them just enjoy each other's company, it's nice and quiet. They are not tired from class or trying to study or doing everyday tasks, meaning they can actually connect on a emotional level.

And then we get the twist:

As stated earlier, Legosi accidentally scratched Haru's ear when he got "excited" and Haru assumed it killed the vibe between them. But this seems to imply that he was waiting for the wound to heal completely.

Or maybe it is because they are both relaxed that Legosi feels less anxious.

Either way, they don't spend this night in separate beds.

I'm gonna be honest, it was not the best Haru x Legosi story I read, I would have liked a bit more of the classic Paru insanity. But I very much enjoyed it, and this specific story shouldn't have that much crazy because it is about the lack of insanity in the wolf and rabbit's life. We get to see that Legosi can finally get a real career and even achieve his dream of working with insects and how much they have evolved as an actual couple, not just furry angst and tension between the rabbit and wolf. It also feels like Paru is ending Beast Complex for real this time to focus more on her other projects, and if that's the case then this was a nice way to end it.

I'm Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me

dbf!Joel x f!reader

The first TLOU fic I ever read was a dbf!Joel story and it left an indelible mark on my soul. Unfortunately, I never bookmarked it so I have no idea which one it was. It's only natural that I had to try my hand at one at some point. So, here we are.

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 4.1k

Series Warnings: Mature to start, but will ultimately be Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. There will be angst, drama, fluff, humor, romance, smut... basically, the works. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname from her dad, which will be explained at some point.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Chapter One: The Day That I Met You

If you asked him over a decade ago where he’d be now, Joel Miller would not have placed himself as a single father to a tenacious pre-teen desperately trying to keep things afloat. He spent too many hours in the week working to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He would be lost without the help of his brother and the few friends he had. He had no social life to speak of and could not for the life of him remember the last time he went on an actual date.

No, back then, Joel thought he’d be living the good life in ten years’ time – traveling, going out with the boys, maybe have a girlfriend or wife. Basically, just getting to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Don’t get him wrong, though. He was still living a good life; it just was a different sort of good than what he hoped for back in the day.

He loved his daughter with every fiber of his being. Sarah was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, his entire world, and he wouldn’t change the past ten years for anything. He bent over backwards doing whatever it took to make his little girl feel cared for, happy, and loved. He just wished there was a little energy left for something for himself at the end of the day.

Joel Miller was drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

He awoke with a groan as the bright sunlight broke through the gap in his curtains. It was Saturday – his birthday – and he hoped to sleep in, at least a little. Between the brightness of the morning and the stifled sounds of clanging pans and voices carrying up the stairs from his kitchen, sleeping in was not happening.

He hauled himself out of bed with a groan worthy of a man twenty years his senior and stretched out his limbs to ease the achiness in his bare back and chest from too much manual labor. Throwing on a pair of well-worn sleep pants and a faded tee shirt, Joel slipped from his bedroom and down the stairs. He moved rather quietly for a man of his size, stealing a moment to lean against the entryway into the kitchen and watch as Sarah and Tommy worked together making breakfast.

The counters were a mess of spilled pancake mix, eggshells, and… was that coffee dripping over the edge and onto the floor? It was a toss-up on who made the bigger mess, his ten-year-old daughter, or his grown ass brother. Still, Joel could not stop the smile spreading across his face as he watched them laughing and teasing each other. That, right there, was the reason he worked so hard, why the loneliness was worth it.

When Tommy flipped the stovetop off, Sarah turned to find her dad smiling goofily at them. “Happy Birthday, Dad!” she exclaimed, launching herself at his chest. Her lanky arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her off the ground in a big bear hug.

“Thanks, baby girl,” Joel replied, pressing his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before he settled her feet on the ground.

“We made you breakfast!” Sarah declared, gesturing toward the disaster zone formerly known as his kitchen.

“I see that,” he chuckled, voice still slightly rough with sleep.

Tommy turned with a smirk, hands grasping two plates filled with bacon, eggs, and pancakes. “Take a seat, brother. Let us take care of you on your birthday.” Placing the food on the small dining table, Tommy roughly patted his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t worry ‘bout the mess, I’m on cleanup duty after we eat.”

“We expectin’ company? That’s a helluva lot of food,” Joel grumbled. He needed coffee, stat.

“Yeah, JB is comin’ over to see ya before heading to the airport. His daughter finished grad school over the summer and is moving back home.” Tommy set more food and a full mug of dark roast coffee in front of his brother. The scent alone made Joel perk up a little.

The Millers hadn’t met you yet, having only become friends with your dad through work after you’d already left for college on the east coast. Your dad had a good decade on Joel, but he and the Miller brothers got on like a forest fire from what he told you. With visits home always short and rushed, busy catching up with family and your own friends, there was never time for your dad to introduce you all. Now you were coming home for good and would have plentiful opportunities for spending time with your dad and his friends.

“Speak of the devil,” Tommy muttered as the doorbell rang. Sarah bounded to the door to greet your dad with a hug. In many ways, the girl reminded him of you when you were young, and it always brought a smile to his face.

“There he is! The man of the hour. Happy Birthday, buddy!” Your dad, John, or JB as the Millers called him, ruffled Joel’s already mussed hair, leaving a few locks standing straight up in further disarray. Pulling a 12-pack of beer from behind his back, your dad set it on the table in front of Joel, topped with a little red bow. “I gotcha a lil’ something to celebrate.”

“Good man,” Joel replied with a chuckle. “Have a seat and help me eat all this. Tommy just told me your lil’ girl is coming home, finally.”

Your dad’s face lit up even more at the mention of you coming home. “She’s not so little anymore, but I sure am glad she’s moving back here. Said she had enough of the east coast, but I think she just missed her ol’ man.” After wolfing down some food, he added, “Think we could host a small barbecue here this coming weekend to celebrate? Your backyard is way nicer than mine and you got the pool and all.”

“Not to mention that fancy ass grill,” Tommy chimed in.

Swallowing a long sip of his morning go juice, Joel nodded. “Of course. Invite whoever you want. I’m looking forward to finally meeting your daughter.”

“Me too!” Sarah added. She heard a lot about you from your dad and hoped you were as cool in person as he made you out to be.

Joel’s mind started spinning upon hearing his daughter’s excitement. With her school hours being so different from his typical work hours, he was spending a small fortune on after school care for Sarah. She was still too young for him to leave home alone, especially on those days where he’s stuck late at a job. He was barely scraping by as it was and couldn’t really afford the cost of after school programs. Perhaps…

“JB, ya think your daughter would mind watching Sarah during the week while she’s home. Drop off and pick up from school and keeping her company ‘til I get home from work? I could pay her – it wouldn’t be much, but better than nothin’, I imagine.” He watched Sarah’s eyes light up at the suggestion and knew it was a good choice.

“I’m sure she’d love to. She wasn’t planning on finding a real job until after the holidays, so I know she’ll be free during the day,” your dad replied. “I’ll talk to her about it on the ride back from the airport and let you know.”

Three suitcases and a carry-on bag. That’s all you had left from six and a half years of pursuing higher education in North Carolina. You sold or gave away anything that did not fit into your luggage or hold sentimental value of your time away. Now, you were moving back home to save some money before you had to start chipping away at the mountain of student loan debt you accrued.

You loved learning, always have, but you were relieved to be done with school. Equipped with a bachelor’s degree in earth sciences and a master’s in education, you felt like a real adult ready to take the world of middle school by storm… well, starting after the new year, maybe. For now, you needed several months of limited to no responsibility to recoup your mental and physical energy. That last couple years of school really burned you out. Not to mention the last-minute rejection of a teaching position you thought was in the bag…

Anyway, you were better off leaving North Carolina behind and returning to Austin. You missed your dad something fierce and his particular brand of caring for you was exactly what your weary soul needed. It was you and him against the world, just like when you were a kid.

You flight was smooth and uneventful, yet you were relieved to deboard the plane. Something about being stuck in a tin can at the mercy of someone else’s ability to keep the thing from plummeting to the ground really aggravated your anxiety. Flying was something you would never enjoy; it was merely a means to an end when you wanted to travel long distances.

The journey to baggage claim was a slog with the crowd of passengers all heading to the same place. You were wondering how you’d wrangle three large suitcases by yourself when you caught sight of your dad. His broad smile took over his face when he spotted you, rushing over to sweep you up in a big bear hug.

“Hey Spud, how was the flight?” he asked as you waited for the baggage carousel to begin moving. “Looks like it was a full plane.”

“It was, but the flight was good. I’m really glad to be home.”

“Me, too, kid.”

You settled into a comfortable silence, watching various pieces of luggage pass by on the carousel. Your bags were scattered, and you had to wait several cycles to get all of them. Your dad lugged the final suitcase over the carousel with a grunt. “Jesus, what you got in this one? Bricks? A body?”

“That one has my gaming system and half a closet full of clothes,” you replied with a laugh.

Before long, everything was loaded into your dad’s truck, and you were heading back towards town. The radio hummed at a low volume as you both chatted about everything and nothing all at once.

“Hey, so I know you said you weren’t looking for full-time work until after the new year, but I have a proposition for you.” Your dad’s eyes stayed focused on the road, and you merely quirked a brow waiting for him to continue. “My buddy Joel – you know the one I told you about? Well, his daughter is ten and he needs some help with the school run and after school care. Our work hours aren’t exactly the same as elementary school, you know?”

You nodded, remembering all the times your dad spoke to you about Joel, as well as his daughter and brother. Despite never meeting them, you felt like you already knew their whole life story. “So, he’s looking for a nanny or something? I could do that. It would keep me from getting lazy while I navigate getting my Texas teaching certificate.”

Your dad grinned, one hand patting your leg. “I was hoping you’d say that. Joel will pay you, of course, but just… don’t expect much. It ain’t easy for him being a single dad trying to keep everything afloat.”

Again, you nodded, a soft smile creasing your lips. You knew all too well how challenging it could be for single parents, having grown up with just you and your dad. Much like what your dad told you about Joel’s experience with the mother of his child, your mom split when you were barely a toddler. Things weren’t always sunshine and roses, but your dad sure did his best to make sure you had a great life. Honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, that life with your dad. You had a feeling it was much the same for Joel and his daughter.

“I’m happy to help, even if he doesn’t pay me. I’m sure his daughter will enjoy having a female influence in her life if nothing else. What’s her name again? Sarah?”

Your dad’s eyes twinkled with pride. “Yup, that’s it. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, Spud.”

A mist of tears prickled your eyes as you mumbled out a “Thanks, dad.” After a beat, you added, “Must you keep up with that nickname?”

“Of course. You’ll always be my little Spud,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, by the way, we’re going to the Millers on Saturday for your welcome home party.”

“What’s all this?” Joel questioned as Tommy and Sarah placed a heavy, wrapped package on the table before him along with a few smaller presents. The remains of a birthday cake sat nearby, having been delightfully devoured by the Millers while celebrating Joel’s birthday.

“Just a little somethin’ from me and Sarah,” Tommy replied, a boyish grin alighting his handsome features.

Joel gazed between them with curiosity. Not big on celebrating his own aging, he rarely got big gifts. “You wanna help me open this, nugget?” Sarah’s eyes lit up, small hands reaching to tear the wrapping paper into shreds. It only took a few moments for the contents to be revealed, leaving Joel confused at the modern contraption sitting in front of him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You play video games on it, dumbass.” Tommy harumphed as he began a diatribe on the features of the gaming system – he had one just like it at his place and it provided hours of entertainment when he didn’t feel like going out. “I figured it would be a good hobby for you since you never want to join me in going out.”

“Huh,” Joel grunted in return, brows furrowed as he read the instructions on how to setup up the machine. His attention was diverted by Sarah shoving the smaller parcels into his lap.

“Here, dad! These go with it.” Together, they tore into the wrapping paper to find several video games, a few of which were family friendly. The final gift was a spare controller for the gaming system so he and Sarah could play together.

Despite still being unsure that the gift was a good fit for him, Joel was grateful to Tommy for the effort. “This is too much, man. You shouldn’t spend this kind of money on me, Tommy.”

His brother waved him off. “I found a great deal and you never get anything for yourself, brother. You deserve something to indulge in. Believe me, you’ll have fun with this.”

The rest of the evening was spent with Tommy setting up the system and showing the father-daughter duo how to play some of the games he picked out. The living room filled with lots of laughter and teasing, and Joel found himself really getting into the fun of the video games.

After tucking Sarah into bed, Tommy showed Joel a game that was too violent for the little girl but entertaining for the men. The game was set in Washington DC which had been ravaged by a brutal pandemic and the main character was part of a group of agents fighting off nefarious gangs trying to take over the city. Joel caught onto the gameplay quickly and the two men found themselves building the loadout for Joel’s character, taking out bad guys, and chatting well into the night.

At two in the morning, the pair looked at each other with bleary, red-rimmed eyes and finally called it a night. Joel directed Tommy to crash in the spare room as he shuffled off to bed upstairs.

It didn’t take you long to get settled into your dad’s house. It wasn’t the home you grew up in and you only visited a few times after he bought it. After years living away on your own, you thought it would be an adjustment being under his roof again, but it wasn’t. He understood the need for personal space and never hovered unless you were hurt or sick. He gave you the downstairs bedroom – it was the largest in the house, with an ensuite bath and huge walk-in closet.

“Dad, no! Why in the world is this not your room?” you questioned when he placed your bags on the brand-new, king size bed he had delivered the week prior.

“Hell no, Spud. What do I need all this space for? I like the upstairs rooms better – the light is all wrong in this one anyway.”

You looked around, holding in a giggle. The room faced south, giving you just the right amount of natural light all day. That’s what your dad didn’t like. He preferred to live like a bat in a cave with blackout curtains and limited lighting.

“Alright, well, I love it. The natural light is perfect for me. I can actually put some plants on the windowsills. Thank you!” You kissed his cheek as he left you to get settled.

You spent the week rearranging the bedroom how you wanted it, setting up your gaming system, and putting all your clothes into the walk-in closet. Your dad hadn’t done much with the room other than furnish it, so you made a few trips to the store to get a bathroom set, floor lamps, and wall décor to make the room your own.

Before you knew it, Saturday morning dawned bright and warm. The day of your welcome home gathering arrived, and you would finally get to meet the Millers. An excited energy had you moving about your space in a flurry, tidying up and getting ready early. You’d seen some photos of the Millers that your dad sent you – Sarah was adorable with her dark, springy curls, and Joel… Joel was handsome, in a broody, overworked kind of way, with dark, riotous curls and big, warm chocolate eyes. Kind eyes, you called them.

“Hey Spud, you ready?” your dad called from the kitchen as you put the finishing touches on your hair. It was pinned up, leaving the smooth skin of your neck bare. The sundress you picked hugged your curves in just the right way, falling just at your knees in a flow of lightweight material. In early October, Austin was still hot, and you hoped the Millers’ yard was shaded.

“Bring a swimsuit! They have a pool!” he yelled as you grabbed the last of your things. Turning back to your closet, you grabbed a dark green one-piece suitable for family-friendly swimming and tucked it into your bag.

“I’m ready!”

Your dad smiled at the sight of you. “Let’s go then. We’re heading over early so you can officially meet the Millers and we’ll help them setup before everyone else arrives.”

“Sounds good. Who all’s coming anyway?” Your eyes widened as your dad rattled off a list of people he invited, including his work buddies and some of his and Joel’s neighbors. He would have invited some of your old friends from high school, but you all lost touch over the years. The party was turning out bigger than you thought. Your heart swelled with how happy your dad was to have you home for good.

The Millers lived in the same neighborhood, only a few blocks away, so close you could have walked if not for the scorching sun. The drive took only a few minutes before your dad pulled into the driveway of a two-story home similar to your dad’s, with simple landscaping and two wooden rocking chairs on the wide porch. Lovely and quaint, the house made you more curious about the people who lived there.

“Dayum! Get a load a JB’s daughter, Joel,” Tommy called from the living room, leaning over the couch to look out the front window. “She’s smokin’ hot!”

“Dammit, Tommy. Stop spying on ‘em,” Joel growled, sneaking a peek over his brother’s shoulder to do a little hypocritical spying of his own. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of you and he couldn’t break his gaze away, even as JB led you toward the front door.

“What was that about spyin’, brother?” Tommy teased, practically dragging Joel away from the window as a knock sounded against the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

Tommy opened the heavy wooden door revealing the pair of you standing there, matching bright eyes and wide grins greeting him. “Well, hello there, beautiful. I’m Tommy.” Reaching a hand toward you, Tommy completely ignored JB, who just scowled at him.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” you replied, offering him your hand and name in return. Joel’s scowl matched your dad’s expression as Tommy held your hand for several beats too long.

“Back off, Tommy,” your dad grunted, swatting at the younger Miller brother. “This here is Tommy’s brother, Joel. The one who actually owns this house and the better Miller, if you ask me.”

“Ain’t no one askin’ you, old man,” Tommy’s smart mouth shot back at your dad.

Joel ignored both men, eyes like dark pools as he gazed at you, awed at how small and delicate your hand felt in his. “Howdy, darlin’,” his voice rumbled from his chest. “Come on in. There’s someone else lookin’ forward to meeting you.”

Leading the way through the kitchen into the backyard, Joel felt the heat of your gaze burning his back. Were you checking him out? There was no way. You were beautiful and likely in your early twenties. He felt ancient, though he was only in his early thirties, the hard labor of construction work having taken its toll on him.

“Hi Dad!” a young, sweet voice called from a small swing set where a precious little girl entertained herself. “Who’s this?”

Joel introduced you to his daughter, leaving the two of you to get acquainted as your dad called him away.

“You were away at college?” Sarah questioned, motioning for you to take a seat on the swing next to hers.

“I was,” you replied. “But I’m back for good now.”

“That’s good. What grade did you get to? I’m in fourth grade.”

You thought about it a moment. “I guess it would be 18th grade. But you stop counting grade numbers after 12th and start using different words to describe what year you’re in during college.”

Sarah listened raptly while you explained the different terms, what you studied in school, and what kind of job you were hoping to get.

“You want to be a teacher?” she asked, awed.

“I do! I want to teach middle grade science.”

“I love science! Maybe you could be my teacher when I get to sixth grade!”

Joel returned with your dad and Tommy in tow to find you and Sarah having a blast. The little girl sat in your lap as you kicked your feet out, swinging as high as you could, singing some camp song you remembered from your youth.

“See? Told ya she’d love to spend time with Sarah,” your dad said to Joel. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, staring at the two of you with a glazed look in his dark eyes.

Shaking himself off, Joel turned to your dad. “Guess I better work out some details with her.” He stepped over to the swing set, taking a seat on the empty swing and hoping to the heavens above that it held his weight. He struggled internally on how to start the conversation and was just about to blurt something out when his amazing daughter saved the day.

“Dad! She wants to be a teacher! A science teacher! Isn’t that cool? Did you ask her about watching me yet? I think she’d love to.” Sarah rambled on excitedly, amusing you and Joel. Turning to you before Joel could chime in, Sarah turned to you with baby cow eyes, adding, “You would love to, right?”

How could you ever resist that look? No one could. Both you and Joel were powerless as you nodded, and the offer became official. Cell numbers were exchanged and before you knew it, you had a job starting Monday.

Hours later, slightly drunk on spiked fruit punch and buzzing with energy, you thanked Joel for hosting the barbecue and giving you a job. You kissed his stubbled cheek, forcing thoughts of how attractive he was as far down as they could go. You could not develop a crush on your boss. “I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early!” you declared before following your dad through the front door.

TBC

[keen-li]

All Aisle Ever Need 02 | jjk

chapter: 2/ ?

summary: Forced into a corner and faced with the biggest decision of your life. You stand before your ex and have to decide whether to marry him or not...

pairing: Jungkook x fem reader.

story type: series.

genre: exes to lovers, second chance au, right person wrong timing, lack of communication, forced proximity, slow burn, angst, fluff, smut.

rating: m. Mdni

wordcount: 10.6k

warnings for chapter: troubled parental dynamics/figures. It's implied that they are both grown, Jungkook is older than reader (the age is subjective). cussing. found family. none really from here on.

a/n: though of this whilst watching MAFS. I've been in a burnout and this got me out of it?.

anyways I hope you enjoys it.

date: 02/05/25

note: this is not the first chapter

prev | next

story under cut.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“Yn are you alright?”

The concern in his voice, eyes; it weakens your knees. These aren’t the knees that should’ve been getting knocked in. But it’s not surrender.

The universe will always know how to flip the switch negatively for those it doesn't like. And it happens you’re on the bad side of it.

You wonder how he's able to say your name so casually, like a feather being carried by wind. His name is forbidde in your mind right now. Even thinking about thinking about it is a casualty.

He smiles, occasionally looking over at the officiant and his friends.

You must be looking like a fool right now. You feel like one.

Does he seriously not feel like you are? Your face muscles are taut it's hard to pull a smile.

Your chest tightens.

You don’t put it past him. That’s who he is. Do you even know? He's acting so concerned for you all of a sudden. Where was this when...you know what? he can keep his fake concern and shove it up his as--

“I’m fine.” You force the words out. The little pause has people staring. Tae and Jisoo inch closer to the edge of their seats. Maybe it’s just the nerves but you look anaemic. The silence stays. “Really I’m fine.” Your lips curve from embarrassment masked as genuitey.

If you just plaster on a smile, you’ll be fine. Act like you're standing in front of a stranger.

You stare up at him...that idioitic smile still exists?

“We can proceed?” the officiant asks and you both nod for them to go ahead.

It's not a confident nod, cause you're still deciding for how long this ceremony should last.

You would’ve walked away, you should’ve at the silence. But no worries, you can wait to the i dos to say you don’t want to do this. It’s fine you’re still control of this.

He was supposed to be a stranger.

“Jungkook, yn’s friends want you to know...” the officiant starts and you only hope that your friends didn't write something stupid. You didn't get to see what they wrote about you, but you trust them. Their the only thing you're depending in to stay the same at this point. “...she’s a very caring person who feels things deeply. She loves love and is looking for a partner who knows what he wants.”

Jungkook nods, glances switching from the officiant to you. You cringe behind your hands. It’s sweet...you’re a lover girl. He doesn't remember the last time he's...its been a while since...dammit.

“They also want you to know...she can be a bit bossy at times so be ready to be bossed.”

You mumble an interjection as you turn to narrow your eyes at the culprits who sit side by side. Cheeky smiles plastered on their faces.

Are you bossy? That's what people say. But you just like things a certain way. You don't know what's wrong with that.

Everybody chuckles when you express embarrassment through a self defence speech. You just had to clarify.

When you're done and you lift your head with a blush that drains. You bite your inner cheek immediately.

“That’s not a problem for me.” Jungkook says playfully but you don’t catch.

Your lack of reaction forces him to match you as well.

Can others feel it, can they sense your one-sided tension.

“Yn...” you snap your eyes to the officiant. “Jungkook’s family wants you to know that he’s a goal junky, loves to achieve anything he sets his mind to. That includes whatever you task him with."

You nod like it's all new to you, cause it is. You never knew him back then why would you know him now?

You also never pinned him as the type to have tattoos or piercings.

But no matter what, you doubt he's changed. They never change. Unless he somehow went for therapy, which you doubt he did. Jungkook was always picky about who he opens up to.

He's still the same old jungkook. And marriage doesn't change a thing.

Your cheek will tear if you bite any harder. So you relax, for your own good.

“We’re perfect.” Jungkook jokes

“yeah...”

The officiant goes in and you couldn't be happier, “...he’s a guy who’s dedicated to the people around him, loves community and they can promise you he’ll always be there for you.”

Scoff. And he heard it. Good.

“So do you take...”

From the depths of your limited knowledge you have no clue why he says yes for. What the fuck. You're gonna to look like a bad person now.

And now everyone watches for you. This is your exit. You say no and walk out of here. It will be confusing but what about this isn't already confusing.

Too hell with what people will think. This is about your happiness.

Maybe you aren’t marriage material. Your family was right. You've been a fool with all of this and the universe keeps telling you that. Why the hell would he say yes. Does he not actually remember you?

You sigh the decision weighing hard on you. If they asked you this back then the answer would be out quicker than lightening, but knowing what you know, you can’t. You just can’t.

“i do.”

You feel an invisble veil lift over head, how long was it there for?

Him putting your ring on you, has you holding your breath. You dreamt if this...you dreamt of him. And it's finally happening, but it feels anything but good. The ring doesn't feel like and eternity of love and commitment but more like a death sentence that you brought yourself to.

This is conflicting with what you had in mind for yourself.

“So I now pronounce husband and wife, you may now kiss the-” the officiant isn't sure if he should go on. Cause you're strangers and might not want to go that far yet.

But the question is caught and the following words leave as a soft question, like he was fighting himself to say.

“may i?”

He's so freaking ridiculou-

“sure.”

Nothing is going to plan.

He put you in the spot, that's the reason. Not anything more, not the curiosity of his lip ring on you. Him on yo...

His palm is soft as he cups your cheek. The kiss is gentle and soft. Warm and like you know him...the hint of spirit is unmistakable.

It's nice to know he was a little nervous about the wedding.

It only lasts for a few seconds but you could swear it lasted longer than that.

One moment he's on you and the next you're walking back down the aisle, your hand in his but inching away slowly as your friends cheer.

You stare at him dumbfound.

Who the hell is this man?

Once you’re out and on the balcony by producer’s request, you drop his hand so fast. And if he was a stranger, you would feel bad for being rude.

You’re supposed to be talking, getting to know eachother or whatever. Nothing to get to know in your opinion.

“So what do you do for work?” your eyes are on the skyscrapers. You watch them and analyse every single detail. You’re not the avid scene watcher you’ve never be. The only time you were was when your father would be yelling at you and you wanted to be elsewhere.

How the hell are they able to stand so tall and strong? .

Speaking of standing. Jungkook stands, elbows leaning against the half wall protecting you both from the ground.

Someone would assume you’re staring at the same thing if they walked in...and you are.

“Right off the bat?” He turns to look at you with an annoying smirk. He looks back at the skyscraper when you don’t stare at him. Can you not feel his eyes on you?

He needs to get himself together. He can’t be nervous about the wedding still.

“Too forward?” a bird soars over the building. Must be nice to be so free and unburdened.

“No. You’re alright.” his shoulders droop, now leaning over to look down at the people who walk. From the corner of you eyes you watch, but not for long.  “I do accounting.”

You’re quick to snapping your head to him. And for the moment you stare at eachother...“Really?”

“Shocking?”

It is. Jungkook and accounting? The only thing he can account for are numbers. Not surprisingly. Internally you roll your eyes, you’d do it right in his face but you don’t know where you stand.  “n-no...just...” it’s shocking, but its good you guess.

He’s not giving any signs of remembrance and honestly you don’t want to be the first one to bring it up. It annoys you, very much so. Why do you always have to be the one who speaks first? It’s your specialty but sometimes it wouldn’t hurt for somebody else to be at the front.

“You live in the city?” he asks.

“yeah you?”

He nods.

The silence that falls between you two is so dumb and unnecessary. How the hell are you going to survive this marriage?

You both stand on it. You only survive the silence by staring at the sky above.

This feels dumb so dumb you just have to ask. If he doesn’t remember you then he won’t be able to ask. And if he doesn’t ask you won't know, and if you won't know it’ll eat at you.

Unless you just ask. Its for your own sake. Even if he does remember you it won’t change how you’re hating this right now. Fuck...just ask. Keep it vague.

“i’m sorry i just need to as-” you start to only get interrupted.

So he waited for you to want to say something, to say whatever he wants to?

Chuckle.

“You always wanted to marry a stranger?”

What the hell does he care?

“no-who would ever want that.” You scoff dismissively

He’s got no idea what to say. You don’t seem interested and he feels like all he's doing is investigating you. “How do-did you evision yourself get married?”

He catches your smirk  and he can’t help but do the same. You look too pretty to be pouting like before.

“i don’t want to hurt your feelings.” You confess.

He knows this is not the way anyone, let alone a woman, would want to get married. So maybe he would be hurt if you told him what you really wanted.

“Assuming you can-” he stares at you and this time he doesn’t look away.

“All i can tell you is i never thought i’d be marrying a stranger.” No, you can’t tell him. You won’t let anyone know that.

“is it something you’re okay with?”

“i mean i’m here” You chuckle. You’re here...so that that should serve to something.  What exactly? You have no clue. But you’re here

Is he as well? You hope not. Cause it would be a shame

“Your body is.” You knit your brows in his direction but catch yourself immediately. You can’t let him know the way that remark's affected you. Is it that obvious? You were to trying hard to hide what you’re truly feeling, but you guess you’re more of an open book than you thought.

Or maybe he just knows how to read you.

Jungkook looks down at the street and when you chuckle bitterly his on you.

“Wow you talk a lot.” It’s a mumble, not confident enough to come out as you'd want or as normally as you would.  And the same goes for your gaze. Your feet inch unconsciously further from him like you weren’t far enough already.

It seems like you can never be far enough from him.

He smiles, playing with the metal by his lip and staring down at his hands. Will he have to stop wearing his other decorative rings now? It would take away from the centre piece. Maybe he’ll just have them on his right hand.

“You aren’t as bossy as i expected.”

You want to be offended you really want to.

“i’m out of my comfort zone.” It’s a simple statement.

Jungkook raises a brow. “What would i have to do to get you there?” He wants to know, wants to see how bossy you can get. Can he handle it? He’s done it before.

Have you gotten bossier?

“You look like the type to marry a stranger.” Completely ignoring him, you follow with your assumption.

“i look? What look is that?” Jungkook turns away from the view, choosing to give his back to the world. The conversation seems to be getting more interesting.

He folds his arms over his chest. He looks like someone who would what? It’s only a few things he can change huh!

“You have the vibe.” You straighten your back, folding your arms over your chest as well.

But maybe his actions just prove that he can only change so much in the eyes of himself and others. His actions always seem to get him to horrible places, but its his fault for staying. “You're right. I would marry a stranger.” He smirks to himself. You can read him too?

“is it what you wanted?” The question is heavy in your heart. It shouldn’t be cause it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter to you...so why you ask? you don’t know cause you don’t care. Really.

You don’t care about how his face grows serious after the question, the way he brushes his index and middle finger over his lips in thought. Does he have to think about it? You had your answer quite quick.

“no. I wouldn’t have done it this way.” He confesses to something deeper than words can go and you would know that if you could see how his eyes watch you. This is never how he’d want to do things but his actions...more like inaction... have him here.

But the universe seems to be giving him a second chance for the very first time. He doesn’t  know how many he has but one thing he knows is not to squander it going against what he wants. “But we make mistakes.”

“Marrying me is a mistake?”

He laughs, cause you don’t get it.

The laugh feels like an insult to you and you loathe that you care. It was mistake for him to marry you cause you’re hating him right now and you’re gonna show it. Maybe that way he’ll remember.

Jungkook smirks giving up.

“You’ve gotten better.” His voice is low. He wondered how long this conversation would go on for before either one of you got tired.

“what?”

“At pretending.”

You laugh. “learnt from the best.” You’re eyes are back on the skyscrapers. You don’t even know why you looked away.

You should’ve guessed it, not because you think he’s capable  of it but because he probably enjoys your suffering. You've been talking and he watched you walk down the aisle. He acted so innocent like he didn’t...Where’s he going with this? “You knew?” You don’t bother to elaborate, he should know.

“how could i forget?”

You roll your eyes at him. Liar. Not a scoff in the world could show how irritated you suddenly feel. You could throw him over this—shit.

“Then why the hell did you say yes.” you're raging.

He looks at you to lower your tone. As much as you’re alone here, there are people inside. People who think you don’t know each other and are happy for you.

Your sudden tone change definitely wakens something in him. A calm but irritated tone. “You wanted me to say no?”

“Yeah.” You laugh jaggedly, nodding your head like your disappointed in him. The laugh hides how your heart tightens and eyes fill.

You can’t.

“Then why didn’t you say no?”

You'd like to rub your face to alleviate some stress but honestly it wouldn’t do much. The make up have on stops you from doing anything with touching your face. That's why you try not to cry. Jisoo would notice any shift in product, instantly.

Instead you turn your back to him for a moment. He stares harder. Why the hell is he looking at you? Can he not look away?

Collecting yourself you turn around, breath slow but deep. You have to control your anger. Otherwise you might just--

“Felt bad for you.” You snicker.

Jungkook raises a confused brow. “You felt bad for me so you legally bound us together? Wow mother teresa.” He didn’t want to say the last remark but it slipped out, he doesn't intend for this to get heated and knowing you that remark is getting you right where he doesn’t want to be.

“Shut the fuck up." You’re calmer.  “Why the hell did you say yes?” you press in. You want to know, really. Is he trying to prove something,  trying to waste your time once more. Or maybe this is his final showdown to really down tear you down, he's heart must be fluttering with excitement.

But you won’t let him, not again.

“i never came here to back down.” He declares only serving to edge you.

It’s so like him.

Never take anything serious. Its all just a fucking joke to him. You shake your head in disbelief. He’ll never fucking change.

“it’s marriage were talking about not some game.” You don't catch how he scrunches his face.

He ignores you for a moment.

“i did genuinely want to do this you know?”

“That’s hard to believe.”

He’s not surprised. It’s be hard to believe you would say or act any other way.

“knowing me like you do yn...”

“i dont know you.” You correct sharply. He’s overestimating himself again.

“You do.”

“You’re overestimating yourself and how you know me.”

He can swear he's heard words of that sort from a his mother. And that’s why he hated something about you. About here he still is...

Sigh.

“do you think i would get married as a joke?”

“i told you, i dont know you.”

“amusing...”

“i’ll have you know i’m serious about this. I  dont know if you are.” He hates how you don’t look at him or turn your body when you speak. Can you ever be civil?

You don’t believe him. “if you aren’t we can get an annulment.”

You could, you really could. But your mind moves over to your mother. Your friends. You haven’t gotten to speak to any of them, your mother especially so you have no clue what she truly and personally thinks of this whole thing. Maybe if she doesn’t support you could get the annulment. But if she supports it and is so happy for you will...not she’s going to hate this.

She’s going to think you’re stupid and this was a mistake. A failure on your part,  cause you were never able to find a proper man on your own. That you’re truly not marriage material. And because of that, you have a rush of adrenaline to prove them wrong. Prove everyone wrong.

“Never came here to quit.”

--

“He’s not that bad...” Jisoo thinks. “...so why aren’t you smiling.” He is your type, she knows that for sure. But you look like you just bit into a candied lemon.

“i am smiling.” you are...well you’re trying. You think you do a good job. Anybody else would be cracking under the pressure of emotions you're feeling. The questioning.

He knew. He fucking knew and still wanted to marry you? You could’ve sworn you were over this, over everything. You were able to do it for the others. If any of your other exes were at the end of the aisle, you would’ve walked out. Because it would be just that easy.

But Jungkook standing up there smiling at you like nothing had happen. Like it was an alternative universe were things progressed like normally just...it’s annoying. He’s annoying.

You’re only doing this for one reason and you need to keep your mind on that. You’d be fool to let that fantasy spark curiosity.

You are a fool though and this is not a dream, it’s the real world. And in it, Jungkook is not the I’m here for you guy, or this kind of guy that he’s trying to be.

He’s a liar.

“I don’t know what you think a smile is; but it’s not that.”

“What do you want me to do!” the words come out tense and sharp. Definitely not a tone you take up with them. And their shock is evident. “You want me to dance around like I’ve married to love of my life.” You wave your hands.

Jisoo looks at Taehyung and he looks back at her. You’re not in the room, your body is and that's how you’re about to hear the chatter of guests. But your mind isn’t, and that's why you can’t decipher what the chatter is about.

Is it about you? What are they saying.

“That’s not what we’re sa-”

“At the end of  the day he’s a stranger so don’t except me to be all jolly.”

What the hell is up with you.

“yn-”

“Excuse me.”

You wish you could storm off, but the dress drags you down.

Stupid dress.

--

“What was her name?” Namjoon asks mockingly “Yn?” he already knew it but the look on jungkook’s face is worth it.

At his response the two laugh and stare and each other mischievously. Namjoon mostly. Jungkook’s brows knit.

“I swear i’ve heard that name before.” Seokjin adds and he can’t help but be disappointed in the older.

“I mean it’s a-” he tries to respond but is loudly interrupted. Is Namjoon drunk? Already?

“-from you.” The silver head interrupts. “i-we’ve heard that name from you.”

He wants to say so what? But he can’t cause it’s many things. From ignorance, denial and even fear. Jungkook has realized that. like he said he has changed. But from what he’s seen you don’t believe that. plus you’re so stubborn and honestly it’s so hard for him to not respond with the same energy.

Jungkook looks around the room, maybe for an exit. But definitely not for you, it’s not possible for you to walk by. Stepping forward and closer to his friends; the words fall out in a plead wrapped in whisper.

“Don't say anything about it.” He wants to sound like he’s warning. “Especially not to her.”

“Why? don’t want to see like a lover boy?” yeah it did hurt when you left him and he may have said somethings to his friends that he should’ve told you instead.

He feared this. how the hell were they able to remember?

“What the hell happened between you two?” Seokjin asks turning the conversation more sincere.

The spot light beams on him to close. There are other things to be done, talked about. Shouldn’t Seokjin be with his wife right now?

“Long story.” It is, if you care for details. But if you don’t care for all the arguments, all the moments shared, he would simply put it that...you were on two different times. And maybe it was his fault for getting carried away and not reinforcing the line, but it was your fault too for not understanding.

He wanted a good time and you wanted a long time. Which at that time was something he was not looking for....for fucks sake he was young. Commitment was the last thing on his mind.

But once you left...the evil—and much scarier—twin of commitment stalked him.

He hated your absence as much as he hated himself for denying how much influence you did have.

“Were not really on good terms right now...so just don’t say anything.”

“My pleasure.” No one wants to be in the middle of that anyaways.

“So are you trying to talk to her?”

If only Seokjin knew how hard it is. 1. Because you’re stubborn and 2. Cause he has no clue how to go about it.

“i am, i really am.” He rubs his chin scrunching his face. “She’s just so hard to talk to.”

--

You hadn’t spoken you your mother yet and something in you didn’t want to. What is she going to say to say you? or say about this? You don't know if you can handle anymore. But the curiosity of it all has you giving in.

“Didn’t think you would come.” You start voice soft. You don’t know where to place your eyes so you look everywhere but her eyes.

She made an effort. The dress she’s in is formal and simple, but it still give mother of the bride who’s trying.

You don’t know if she is actually trying or its just for appearances. She's very conscious of appearances and she definitely implanted that mindset into you growing up.

She’d always get upset with you when you wore silly combinations as a child.

“These colours and textures don't go together yn can’t you see that?” She’d yell as you hold onto the tull of your pink tutu. You were 5 years old. How could she possibly think you’d know what colours and textures go together.

“This is the last time you pickout your own clothes." She was genuinely upset and now that you're grown it shocks you. You didn’t even cried when she striped the ‘awful’ outfit off you, neither did you cry when she throw your favourite toy cause it “looked unpleasant.” it was the most common plushie during that time for children. And what bewildered you more was the fact she's the one who bought if for you. Everything she’d condemn you for, she'd bought.

That’s safe to say, there on you’d never get creative or go out your way to create a stylish outfit. You stuck to everything you knew was safe and acceptable.

“I had to dear, you’re getting married.” She touches your arm and you hate how uncomfortable it makes you feel. Since when has she ever been affectionate? “i’m sorry your dad couldn’t come.” Her tone drops like the topic is taboo. It can be.

You didn’t even want to think of him. You knew and were sure even when you were a tween— that your father would never attend your wedding. Though you'd think about it or plan it or even wanted it; you’d never thought you’d get married. You only talked about it cause your friend's did, and honestly it was fun to atleast think about it.

Cause of all that, and being sheltered from many things you thought all men were like your father. And for sure as your went through life you were proven right. Jungkook included.

You brush your fingers over the area she’d touched. “it’s fine.” You never cared, you learnt how not to. “Didn’t think he would anyways.”

Your mother frowns. Over the years she’s come to realise how their parenting and relationship have affected you. But you being grown now and with her own conflicts, would an apology change anything about you? “He did want to be here, you know that? it’s just...”

You scoff. You'd believe you can see in the dark after eating carrots before you believe that.

“...me marrying a stranger i know.” You end her sentence for her. She doesn’t need to tell you, and you hate how she’s clearly forcing herself to speak on it.

“You know how he is.” You do, but one thing you wish for is the ability to understand it. Cause it doesn’t make sense to you. How can somebody be so cold and uncaring to their own child.  You were a planned child and they had you when they had good jobs and enough money, so you were not a burden in that area.  So nothing makes sense. “Are you happy?”

Your mind glitches at the question. Your first instinct is to nod and smile,  but you can’t do that.

Are you? What’s happiness for you. Its always been; not failing and doing the right thing. You’ve done that and what? Are you happy.

Of course you’ve loved every award every grade you’ve gotten as well, and even the promotions at work. But honestly they never feel enough. And now you’re married. It should be the ultimate win as your mother would think. But you failed at the most important part...

Marry the love of your life.

You nod anyways, cause words could expose you.

She smiles. You’re glad she’s never been the person to ask twice cause you might just break if you’re asked one more time. “That’s good, cause he looks like a really nice man.”

What would she know about nice men. If you weren’t worried before; you’re terrified now.

“You deserve the best and i hope he’ll be that.” You can hear the choke in her voice. This would be the first time you ever see her cry about something you’ve accomplished,  but again your dad isn’t here.

“mom--” you whine your own tears threatening, you love your mother, and you have no idea if that's a gift or a curse.

She doesn’t let the tears stop her. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, you know that?” You are? It’s hard to let the words sink in deeper but you acknowledge the possibility.

Even from that your tears fall. Gosh....Jisoo’s gonna be so mad at you. “You’re so smart, so beautiful.” Her hands hold each side of your arm.

She’s so grateful you have those friends of yours. They had told her, you went dress shopping together and it hurt that she couldn’t be there. But atleast you had people who could help you pick out such a wonderful dress. It’s better than anything she could choose. And she tries her best to not question the jewellery,  cause your husband bought it for you. But it does look good together.

Putting whatever has happened aside you pull her into a hug. One which she reciprocates. It feels nice, really nice to hug her in so long.

When was the last time you hugged? You can’t even remember.

“i’m sorry your dad is so stubborn.”  She tries not to lean on your dress.

You wish she could stop bringing him up.

“It’s not your fault” she’s always apologsing for him and you hate it. You pull away.

You’re wiping your tears. And like in disbelief to herself she speaks to herself. “I should’ve married a better man huh?” she questions. She’s asked herself that many times. Would she have been different if she had married somebody else, somebody she loved, maybe you would’ve been better. She has no clue and she'll never know. You both will never know.

“But don’t let him know that.” She asks jokingly and you shake your head with a laugh. It’s not like you’ll be talking to him.

After a moment of self collection she speaks a bit calmer. “Be happy okay? Make this marriage work. I really want you to be happy—”

Can you be happy with him? No. So maybe that’s the one thing you’ll disappoint your mother on. It pains you to say.

So the least you can do is not have kids with him. You won't get that far anyways, so you’re good.

“Yn—” a voice too comfortable for your liking calls out for you. You’re both startled as he approaches immediately smiling as he sees your mother. She smiles about at him too. You don't share the sentiment, first he’s interrupting for whatever reason and second,  he just ruins your mood.

“Oh—hello mrs y/l/n” He says. He hadn’t spotted her because of how you stand.

“Hi dear.” She coos and its so irritating,  maybe she wanted a son instead.  She immediately pulls jungkook into a hug he does not expect. They'd only just glanced at eachother and now that he’s speaking to her, he has no clue what to say. He was not prepared.

But she’s so welcoming he doesn’t feel like he needs to be prepared. He can be free with her.

The hug feels warm he does want to pull away cause he’s getting distracted.

“How are you feeling?” she asks warmly, hands still connected to his biceps, patting him.

“I’m feeling okay. How are you?” He can’t help but be so formal and tense. He’s comforted and relaxes when she tells him he doesn’t have to be so.

“you’re my son now, relax.” She says and he has to hold himself especially when you stare him down like he wasn’t meant to be here, like he didn’t deserve the feeling.

He clears his throat.

“Just little emotional but i’ll be fine.” She says it so animatedly. You stare in awe at the woman. Maybe it was the fact that you were a girl that was the problem. You let out a sharp breath that no one notices. Honestly you want to walk away but something makes you stay. Mainly cause you want to know what jungkook wanted to say. Which he’s taking too long to.

“You’re such a handsome man.” She compliments. Instinctively, her hands move to his tie , that must’ve shifted as he walked around. She goes in to fix it and Jungkook freezes. He watches her hands tease the fabric, every pull feeling like a pull at his heart instead. “I hope you two make each other happy.”

She smiles, but jungkook has always learnt to read people,  adults especially.  He can see the pleading wrapped in deep sincerity and fear. He empathises with that.

“i’ll do that.” He declares. It’s a promise cause he will. he'll try his best. His eyes move to you and it looks like he’s failing already. “i just hope she’ll do the same.” He laughs.

Your roll your eyes  and your mother doesn’t catch it cause she would be lecture you. Or maybe she did.

All of this is unnecessary. She shouldn't be endorsing jungkook, if she really cared about you.

Your mother has always been good at spotting tension, between lovers especially. But she won’t comment. You like to retaliate so she won’t get into it. Not at your wedding. She assumes it’s already enough that she’s here, after saying she wouldn’t come.

“Well—if she  gives you any trouble—” she mimics a phone with her hand.

Jungkook laughs. “I’m an easy man to please so it should be that difficult.”

The pretence is killing you. He’s so fake. Both of them are.

“You wanted to say something?.” The air turns cold immediately. You just want to know what he wants. And if it’s something stupid...

Jungkook clears his throat feeling that tension returning in his body. “i was just coming to say, the photographer is waiting.”

That’s what he wanted to say? You’re sure you would've found out eventually. He didn’t have to be the one to tell you, or maybe Jisoo or Tae could’ve. Maybe even his own groomsmen. Just anyone but him.

“Pictures?” You question like you hadn’t know that the day would get to this point. Honestly you were hoping it wouldn’t. Where are the photographers that flake out? You need those.

“Do you not wan-” Jungkook asks but is cut off by your concerned mother.

“Yn you have to have pictures.” She declares softly but it lands like thunder in your ears.

Do you? You have to have even more evidence that this is real? It honestly feels like one of those things she forces you to do.

You will do it. "I was just surprised.” Jungkook watches how you turn your eyes away,  not like you did with him in anger—no— but in surrender. To your mother.

“Everybody’s down stairs.” He adds soft eyes still on you. You’re biting your inner cheek.

“I’ll go ahead you two talk.” Your mother says winking to anyone of you as she walks off.

You want to walk off to but jungkook speaks before you get the chance to.

You inch away from him, again.

“Are you okay?” his voice is soft and patient. Wanting to claw deeper into you.  But you won't let him.

“i’m fine.” You fold your arms over your chest, ignoring the worry of it wrinkling.

He should honestly just avoid you or walk away cause unlike your mother you won’t be taking any form of lie or fakery from him. From the get go you’re gonna let him no you don't care for this marriage or him. “Why are y-ow.”

You flinch.

It was inevitable. If you bit down any harder you'd poke a hole to the outside. But even with the tiny slip, you bleed.

“Let me see.” It’s not an ask. You have no time to respond when he’s grabbing your chin softly. You want to protest but the cut and the blood that spews is distracting.

You open your mouth shyly and he turns you head inspecting. You feel stupid, but he doesn’t pay mind to your knitted brows. Honestly he couldn’t careless about your attitude right now.

It’s not bad your body will probably heal it by itself. But you’re still bleeding. “You still do that?”

“What?” You try to speak. When he let’s your chin go you try your best not to get the blood on the dress. That would wreck your mood.

“Bite your cheek.”  He reminds. You’ve never stopped, but it’s just today that you've gone to far and caused a cut. You wish he could stop pretending like he knows you or cares.

“I’ve told you about that.”

Oh please–you roll your eyes so hard they’ll fall out next.

“I’m fine.”

He hates when you say that and you're clearly are not. Why can’t you just be free, trust him even just a miniscule of how you hate him.

“Here.” He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. He hands it you and you look at it for a second. Your dress is going to stain.

After giving into the subtext of it all, you get the cloth to spit into it.

When you’re done, you fold it, not knowing where to put it cause you have no pockets. You have to throw  it, he won’t take it back. You wouldn’t take it back. He alleviates your struggle and has you widening your eyes when he takes the cloth and places it were it initially was.

In sickness and in health, right?

“What were you saying.” He ask once that’s over with. He’s still curious about what you were trying to say.

You don't even want to speak anymore. You don’t want to be here. But you know it’ll itch at your throat so you say it anyways.

“Why are you pretending?” You try your best to stare him in the face.

He tilts his head. “Pretending?”

“Yeah.” You taste Iron but not from the blood.

Jungkook let’s out a warm sigh. “I’m sorry you think that.” Is he serious. He’s not at least going to confess that he’s pretending. You don’t even know why he’s doing it. It’s not going to change anything. Unless that's his way of fucking with you.

“Forget it." You can’t get anywhere with him. “People should be waiting for us.”

He laughs. This is going to be interesting. 

“We should probably hold hands.” For realism. “Or maybe that would be too prentenious me?”

“Fuck off.”

--

Your hand is loose in his, and immediately you get the chance you pull away, you do.

Getting announced as mrs Jeon, you doubt you’ll get used to or you won’t roll your eyes everytime you hear it.

It honestly doesn’t feel like it's you they’re talking about.

You’ll be fine as long as you’re away from him. It’s easisr to forget he’s around when you’re with your friends.

With them is when you’re able to loosen up and dance. The music booming is enough to block any emotion that tries to come through,

You do want to make the best of this night, with your friends.

It doesn’t last long when a brooding figure walks over standing next to you.

“i’m sorry can i steal her from you?”

No no no. You plead in your mind,

“Sure, go ahead.” You frown at your friends for just letting you go so easily. Is this how this whole thing is going is going be? It shocks you that not even Taehyung protests. Where is the hate? the dislike that he once professed. This would be the perfect time for him to live up to his words.

Once jungkook gets what he wanted; you and him in the crowd and away from your comfort zone, you ask.

“What do you want?”

“Want to dance with you.” He tries to pull you in but you pull away the arm he reaches for. You don’t look at him kindly and he would be discouraged by that if he didn’t know you.

You both look around. People drink and dance and the bride and groom can barely be in the same room.

“Why?”

“Why?” He chuckles. You can’t decipher what type of chuckle it is, condescending? Mocking? He thinks his better than you type of chuckle? You try to to decipher it. But if you only paid attention to the way he’s eyes soften,  you would’ve realised its a hurt chuckle. “Am i not allowed?” he stares.

“it’s just--”

“just what?”

It’s just that he’s too casual with this. He doesn’t understand the weight of your unanswered quetions. Quetions you can’t bring to the surface, let alone at such a time. Questions that would not do much for you but feed your anger towards him.

“Relax for once..Yn” He tried his best not to say it, not when you’re still a boiling pot tipping over every second you see him. You’d get defensive and he knows it. So he just waits.

“I'm too relaxed actually.” Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Hell only knows half of what you'd do.

That’s the difference with you two.

You don’t want to dance with him. So when the host announces that it’s time for the groom and bride dance, you want the earth to swallow you.  But knowing it, it would spit you right back and reverse time just so that you can go through this another time.

Jungkook is too comfortable with this too. But people are watching and he reminds you of that. You hate how you agree with him. People who think you’re not dreading this union and are happy for you should at least see you happy.

You relax only for that reason.

One hand lays stiff on his chest, the other is held by him, and you hate how soft he holds it. You told him to stop pretending.

You sway, his hand on your lower back. You try your hardest to be closer to him in a way that doesn’t raise suspicion or betray yourself.

jungkook betrayed himself long before all of this. He betrayed himself the moment you walked in through the door and he watched you leave. He was livid that day and if he did follow after you he wouldn’t have known what to say. But maybe a simple “Please stay”  would’ve sufficed but it’s exactly what you were running from. Having to stay with no possibility of progression. He hates the universe for bringing you to him when he was where he was. He won’t betray himself this time. Maybe his self respect will be in a way, betrayed, cause he takes every blow you give and comes back for another.

Jungkook is by your ear and you can hear the tiny breaths he puffs out. Does he know he doesn’t need to get this close to make it believed. You battle with where to place your hand, right now it lays on his beating heart—you can feel its pace quickens each second — you can’t move it further or any lower, so you keep it there. Hating the evidence of his presence existence.

“I missed you.” He whispers weakly.

You freeze.

He can feel your muscles lock. He shouldn’t have said that. Fuck.

It’s what you would’ve wanted to hear. Not anymore, not now. Right now the words run acid down your throat and your heart burns.

He made his choice long ago. He doesn’t get to come back and tell you whatever he feels like to draw you in. It won’t work. He wasted your time before and you let him and even though he is in the position to do it right now, you won’t let him.

You’re not needy and desperate for love anymore. And after this, the word love tastes like lime.

“let me go Jungkook.”

You say slowly pulling away. When does this song fucking end?

He panics internally but he doesn’t let go. You’ll thank him later(he knows you won't.) Cause he knows you'd hate to make a scene.

He was warning his friends not to say anything when really he should’ve been telling himself that.

“Yn...”

“No.” You reject whatever he wants to say. Whatever lie his mind has come up with.  Its been working overtime he should let it rest.

You slowly but firmly try to pull away, but he holds you tighter. If only he knew how close you are to the edge of not caring about the eyes around. Your frustration converts into a physical form; tears in your eyes and saying words you never intended to bring up. “You always say what you want, when it’s beneficial for you.”

Is it? Is any of this benficial for him.

“What do you need from me huh?.”  He looks down at you, maybe you'll finally realise how serious he is. He’s begging you, begging  you to say even an inkling of what you truly want. Even if it’s not him.

“i need you to leave me alone.” You tell him.

False. He won’t believe that.

“i can’t do that.” He shakes his head. “i mean-we’re married.”

At this point you stop swaying and stand in eachother’s arms like a statue in a French museum.

“i-i know.” You hate that that do. Marriage can bind you by law but it can't bind your emotions and feelings. “But you’ll figure it out.”

Your hands slip off him but he still has one touch on you.

“You want me to wait?” he would. The words come out a little sharper than intended. But its too heated to retract or clarify.

“just leave me alone.”

He finally let’s you go and you walk off as fast as the gown will let you.

“Everything okay?” Taehyung immediatley walks up to him.

“i-i don’t know.”

Taehyung frowns. From his view it just looks like you got irritated. You have been for some reason today. And jungkook must not know who who deal with it, being a stranger and all. The poor guy looks stunned. What did you say to him?

Laying a warm and comforting hand on his back taheyung says, “don’t beat yourself... it must be the nerves getting to her.” He says knowing how overwhelmed you can get and react.

“Probably” jungkook doesn’t even look at your frend but when he does he’s met with a comforting smile. One he can return. “Can you check on her for me?”

Taehyung nods already on his way through the direction he saw you walk.

.

Your body shivers. You've never had to go through this many emotions before at once. Hatred for yourself,  for him, for everyone. Everything wrong that has happened to you has happened because you let it get to you. You’re not cut out for this. You would’ve walked away at the aisle but now...and for what?

“Yn?” You flinch at the sound like Taehyung’s voice. He can’t see you like this. What the hell are you going to tell him. “Are you okay?” he asks.

How can you say you are when you clearly aren’t. How can you say words when your voice will betray you for.

“Can i open the door?”

No you can’t. You’ll just cry more.

“No.”

Taehyung’s taken aback by your response,  what the hell happened.  Normally you'd let him in immediately,  even before he said a word. “Tell me what's wrong.”

Should you? Maybe if you did, it would alleviate some pressure. But if you did tell him you’d have to explain more  than you’re ready for.

“He’s my ex Tae.”

He knits his brows. You’re joking. You are. He thinks you are, but then he remembers you’re not that creative or funny.

Your silence raises more questions than answers.

“I’m coming in.” And he does. The door was open nothing really was stopping him from walking in but respect.

“What did you say?” he says when he's finally in.

“He’s my ex.” Honestly you were just a hook up to him, so can you even calm him your ex?

“How don’t i know him?” Taehyung immediately sits down at the closest surface to you. It must be like a change room or something. None have gotten the chance to explore the venue beyond the occupied areas.

Taehyung watches you fight your tears, which is something he wishes you would stops doing. But you never listen.

“Never wanted to tell you guys.” You can’t even look at him. He probably thinks you don't trust him or Jisoo,  and you're such a bad friend. If you fail at this what can you do? You don't want to acknowledge it to anyone,  but you’re just embarrassed.

As well as you trust them and are your friends, you’re just too embarrassed to tell them some things. Plus, they'd get upset if they knew anyways.  And you hate when your friends are upset with you.

“Jisoo doesn’t know too?”

You shake your head.

He sighs. There's probably a reason why you didn’t want to tell them but now is not the time to ask.

He can’t help his heart fill bitterness, he must’ve hurt you. You never cry like this. “Come here.” He says pulling you into a hug. You make sure not to stain his suit.

You’ve already stained your dress. You hope there nothing the dry cleaners can't do. “You wanna stay married?”

The question is heavy and you’ve only realised you haven’t thought of it or the answer. ”There’s nothing i can do, Tae.” Your tears dry leaving salt paths.

There is definitely something you can do. Annulment. And you and Taehyung both know that. He knows you know. “You still love him?”

“Tae...” you pull away slowly. It does feel a little better to tell someone.

“don’t tell me. We’’ll talk.”

But there’s no talking needed.

“i don’t.” You swallow hard. “My mom just looks so happy for me. I don’t want to disappoint her. She really believes in this.” You speak your thoughts rumbling past your decision maker. There's nothing taehyung doesn't know about you so it's fine. “She came all the way—and—i can’t i just can’t.” Your throat closes and the tears flood your eyes again.

Taehyung immediately pulls you into him, this time your head lays right on his suit. It's not important right now.

“Don’t talk. It’s okay.”

“is she okay?” jungkool Immediately places a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder when he spots him.

Taehyung stares at the hand. Jungkook pulls back.

“What did you say?” Taehyung asks anything but interested in letting him know anything else.

“is she okay?”

“she’s fine.” He spits out. “what did you do to her?” Taehyung inches closer.

“nothing.” Jungkook defends but Taehyung is anything but satisfied.

“You dated?” he continues to press in. What the hell happened,  what did you say?

No matter what you said or made him look, he can only take that tone from a few people. And this guy he barely knows won’t be one.

“i’m not going to talk about that with you.”

“You are.”

Jungkook chuckles and finally looks at Taehyung who’s never stopped looking at him.

“i understand where you’re coming from, but i need to talk to her first.”

He’s needs him to understand that.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

Of course you don't, he expected it. But now you can’t run from him for forever.  Eventually you will talk to him. “That’s fine, i’ll wait.”

Taehyung laughs. “i knew there was something i didn’t like about you.”

What does he want him to do about that?

“That’s a shame.”

--

This is the part of the night you were dreading. You’ve always been able to deal with things with your friends around, they make it easier. It’s either them or work. You love to drown yourself in projects, assignments too. But you prefer your friends.

But you have none right now.

And a day from now you’ll have none of them for two weeks.

You also said good bye to your mother not knowing when you’d see her again. You invited her to yours but she was quick to turn it down.

“it’s your wedding night I can’t do that.” she blushed and you rolled your eyes.

You were not going to be doing anything with him—you can’t even imagine it-- let alone would you be staying in the same house.

It’s the new age; you don’t have to stay in the same house with your marriage partner. Not if you don’t have anything for each other anyways.

You both sit at either end of the car, staring out the window.

Your leg bounces, as you tease at your nails. Your father would curse at you for that, but honestly, he’d curse at so many other things he wouldn’t get the chance. A minute ago you discovered that you could see Jungkook’s reflection and it fueled your anger. You shake your head. Trying not to be childish you no longer stare at the window, there was never anything for you anyways.

Jungkook barely said bye to his parents or friends, he couldn’t when he was too busy wondering where his mother was or why she couldn’t just stay longer. But she promised to talk later.

Though he doubts it’s going to come.

He can’t go home. Since it’s night, his mother can’t drive (doesn’t want to.) And his dad can’t at night. Namjoon drove them to his. They’ll be leaving later on. And even though he knows that the night is short, even that would be too long to be around them.

She never even said congratulations.

“Can i stay at yours?” he speaks into the silence, its dumb to ask considering you don't like him much right now.

You should’ve cooled down now, at least. Though he can tell you’re dreading his presence.

“No.” Its so stupid of him to even ask “You’re not homeless are you?” it’s funny how embarrassment can transition to anger so smoothly.

“it’s fine.” He was stupid for asking. But the thought of going home right now is probably worse than the feeling you feel if hating him. He was just hoping for that part of you that always welcomed him. “i’m not gonna beg.” It’s a chant he’s been telling himself since he was a kid. Has it been effective...somebody else would have to be the judge of that.

“Didn’t expect you to.” You preferred he didn’t speak at all. Let alone bring up the idea of you being in one box again...hasn’t he had enough?

A silence eats at both of you until be breaks it.

“My parents are staying there.”

You turn to look at him. He doesn’t look to you. You turn back with a frown.

Why is he telling you that? He loves to be the victim so bad. So what? He wants pity from you?

“House not big enough?”

“No.” Maybe if he had a larger house he’d be able to hide in his many rooms.

“You don’t speak anymore?” Why the fuck are you even talking. Shut up.

“We spoke before the wedding.” He watches the neon lights change as the driver drives buy everything. Right now, with how he's feeling,  he'd either be in a club or a girl’s bed. None of that now. He has to endure it all or find another method. “But last time was on her birthday. It was my dad i spoke to though.” He can remember the way his voice lowered in tone and excitement when his father picked up instead.  “She didn’t even pick up her own phone.”

Your try not to think further but you would expect that from his mother. “Your dad looked happy.” At least for him. You didn’t get to speak to them but you saw it. You wish you could’ve spoken to his father. He’s a lovely man.

“He was. And your da-“ he’s gotten to comfortable but he doesn’t realize.

“You can if you want.” You interrupt, you're not going to get into that.

His head snaps to you but you hide behind your palm over your mouth, almost like you regret speaking the words. “Doesn’t sound like you want me there.” He runs a hand through his hair. He told Seokjin not to use this gel. He cringes at the tackiness of it.

“i’ll just stay at nam-”

“Don’t be so smug.” There it is. You lasted longer than you thought.

“Me?” but he’s the only person you're talking to so it must be him.

“Yeah. Take the offer or leave it.”

His chuckle lasts two breathes. “I want you to hear yourself...”  he prepares to mock your tone. “you can if you want. Does that sound genuine?”

Maybe it’s not. Maybe you just want him to shut up.

“Take it or leave it.” You ignore his false recreation of you.

The silence falls again. This time he has something to think about.

He doesn’t want to be at his, and he doesn’t want to bother Seokjin. He could go to namjoon’s but its too far, and even still the older would have too many questions. He doesn’t want to deal with that too.

Your attitude is honestly manageable.

“You still fucking amaze me.”

-

He eyes everything that he sees, its definitely like you. Did you just move in? Cause its not decorated in any sort of way. The pale grey and cream walls lay interchangeably on each wall.

It’s still nice though.

“You’ll sleep here.” You say opening your guest bedroom,  just as simple as the rest of your house. Is your bedroom the same?

You reach into the closet where you store the sheets and pull them out one by one.

"But i wanted to sleep with you.” The look you give him when he says that is laughable. Can you not decern or take a joke. “i’m joking.” He laughs awkwardly.

He shouldn’t be joking with you, you’re not interested. “Don’t. I could kick you out.”

He laughs drier, but you don’t catch it cause of the ruffling of the blanket you pull out.

“Do it.” He says, not knowing how serious he is. He takes off his tie and throws it on the dresser. He’s so like taehyung,  and just like taehyung he’ll have to learn the hard away about how you like things in your apartment. “Would only take minutes for an uber to arrive.”

Is he really trying you? Does he think you care  if he’s walking out the street in the middle of the night? Scoff. “Just take the fucking covers.”

And that's all. All he needs are here and you can finally to your room and relax. That's all you really want to do right now.

“yn?” You roll your eyes when he calls out your name before you retreat out the room.

“What.”

He'll ignore. “i have nothing to change into.” He spreads his arms for you to take in his attire, like you haven’t already been burdened with the sight.

You groan. You have no idea what you could give him to wear, does he think this is some hotel. But as you rummage through the closet of your own room, you manage to pull out some sweats and a t-shirt from an ex. “here.” You say bringing it to him.

He eyes them once, then twice then he looks at you. You definitely don’t own those, their too masculine.  So now he’s compelled to ask.

“Who are those from?”

What does it matter, you wanna cuss out but choose not to.

“An ex, take it or not. I don’t care.” You really don’t care. You’ve done Your part and you’re not required to do more.

“i don’t either” he doesn’t mind walking around here like he does at home. “...but i’m not wearing that. and out of respect i wouldn’t want to walk around here naked.”

You mumble about him being a baby.  Can’t he just wear it. They’re good, clean and would definitely fit him. So what if they were from an ex? You would...would you?

“What do you want me to give you my shorts?”

“i would prefer.” He retorts quickly.

And you know this conversation won’t go anywhere, if your just give him what he wants and right now you’re willing to do that only because its gonna benefit you.

“Oh my gosh you’re so unbelievable.”

“I’m not as bad as you think.”

“i wish.” You mumble.

Retreating into your room and rummaging one more you manage to find something he could wear. You hope he can. Unfortunately it’s only bottoms.

“Here these are Taehyung’s.” You present the linen pajama pants that Taehyung had left some time ago and never bothered to get back. You stretch your hand out lazily and he just stares at them. “If you won’t take these then you can call that uber.” You don't look at him when you say you say the words, it's more the smirk on his lips that you look at.

You relax when he reaches out to take them. He’s like dealing with a toddler.

“i don’t think he likes me much.” He adds making you stay in the room. Jungkook still looks around. It irritates you when he sits on your bed. He shouldn’t be this comfortable and blending in with the environment.

“I don’t blame him.” You fold your arms. He takes off his shoes and when you stare at them hard as he lines them up.

You want to get out of this dress too. Maybe soak it a little. Bright and early tomorrow your gonna take it to the dry cleaners.

“We should talk don’t you think?”

Your body stiffens.

“i’ve had a long day.”

Like you hadn’t shared the same day.

“We had the same day.” He informs you.

You laugh.

“i don’t remember you walking don’t the aisle to your ex.”

He pauses at unbuckling his belt...you should really walk out.

“Really?”

It clicks that you did have the same day, but you had it worse cause he didn’t seem like he cared. “Whatever...” you roll your eyes.

You clean this room everyday, even though you rarely expect any guests apart from taehyhng and Jisoo who most of the time stay in your room.

So it’s irritating and weird that all your efforts of cleaning and everything you've done in this room goes to...him.

“Some would say i’ve had it worse.”

Of course he would think that. But what some would say doesn't matter.

“You wanna be the victim so bad.”

It offends him how you just assume, you never care to ask.

“i don’t wanna be anything.” He shakes his head denying the claim. “i’m not the one who wants to argue.”

The laugh that leaves your mouth is sharp and dismissive. You're about to lose your mind. Now you can be free just being the two of you. No pretend touches or posing for cameras.

“i don’t want to argue. Just to let you know. ” you barely want to talk to him. Why the hell would you want to argue? its not your fault you get angry when he opens his mouth.

“Then why are we still talking?”

You swallow. Who does he think he is? Does he realise he’s walking around in your house, wearing your clothes and in your sheets?

“it’s my house. And you’re barely a guest just to let you know.” Your voice raises with each word. He can’t talk to you like that. He should be apologising. He should be a little more respectful and grateful that he’s here right now and not in the cold. He should get off his high horse.

“You should call that uber.”

He sighs at your words. How much of it can he take? You’re making this hard for him.

Making him feel like it's a waste of time.

“Call it, Yn.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/n: 😏😏 what did you think? I hope you liked it.

anyways I hope you enjoyed.

same time next week?

Lets discuss in the replies 🖐😊

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[lukesaprince]

Rich Part 22

Summary: Neighbour/Older!Harry. Y/n meets Anne, her Dad finds out the truth and an unexpected encounter has devastating results.

Warning: Smut, bj (the beginning of one anyway), penetration, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk. Mentions of revenge p*rn, Ethan, bad mental health. There is also a detailed account of a panic attack and negative thinking so please be mindful of this. PLEASE lmk if I've missed anything ❤️

Word count: 21k+

Author's note: Look I'll always say I'm an angst writer not an angst reader so I hope you guys enjoy reading a bit of it... At this point Rich won't be finishing up at Part 25 as expected because I just don't think I'll fit everything I want to within three more chapters so you're welcome I guess. ANYWAY happy reading muah

- Find Series Masterlist Here -

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“Okay… y’ready?” Harry asked, bopping his knee anxiously. 

“I’m ready.” You confirmed, smiling. 

You totally weren’t ready. 

This was the first meet-the-parents thing you had ever done in your life and you were fucking terrified. You didn’t want to come across as too immature or young but you also wanted to be yourself. Compared to Harry you were young and even if you had things in common, you were as Gen Z as they came and the last thing you wanted was Anne thinking you were some kid. 

From what Harry told you, Anne wasn’t a judgmental person. She was a sweetheart and seemed so gentle and kind. Like your mum but without the hint of crazy. He did say Anne liked a good glass of wine, which both you and your mum enjoyed as well so that was one thing you had in common. 

You were definitely overthinking it way too hard but Harry being nervous made you nervous. You just wanted her to like you. It was a lot harder meeting her for the first time via Facetime too because there wasn’t really a lot of external stimuli to chat about if things got quiet. You weren’t sharing a meal or doing an activity where the conversation could drift naturally. This all felt so formal.

Harry assured you that he’d jump in at any point it got quiet but that he didn’t think he’d need to because Anne loved to talk about anything and everything. That made you feel a bit better but you still felt like your inside matched how Harry looked on the outside. Anxious.

You didn’t really want to make it worse by talking about your own nerves, especially since Harry had been talking about it all damn day. He kept bringing it up through text and called you double what he usually did while he was at work. He was trying to appear calm and in every conversation he was making sure you were still okay with meeting his mum. 

You knew that it was because he was nervous about it. Harry was practically losing sleep over it and he didn’t really understand why. He didn’t expect to be so nervous about it, especially since he wasn’t phased by your parents knowing about you two. 

He just loved you so much, so fucking much, and you were one of the most important people in his life. The most important. His mum was one of the other important people and maybe that’s why he was all in knots about it. 

His mum’s opinion on you mattered a great deal to him and even if it wouldn’t change how he felt about you, or whether he continued seeing you, it still mattered. She is the closest family member he has and he wants you two to get along more than anything else. 

Deep down, all along all Harry ever wanted was a family. Maybe not the kids and nuclear family model, but family. He could play it off and think that meaningless hookups and money could satisfy him for the rest of his life and for a while it did. It truly did. But meeting you changed everything and now all he wanted was his family together. 

He wanted a life with friends that he loved, a partner he adored who adored him back and he wanted his family back together again. Harry had two out of three of those things and now his family was the last thing he needed to tackle. 

Harry knew Anne would love you because he loved you, but he was still riddled with anxiety. The cause was more than just this initial FaceTime of course, but this was one of the many things he was having a hard time dealing with. He felt blessed that he had you to support him through everything. 

You placed a gentle hand on his knee, applying a little pressure so it would stop shaking. “Are you ready?” 

Harry nodded, grabbing your chin affectionately, “yeah, m’love. Just haven’t introduced many partners to her before. Not that any of them were nearly as important as you.”

Not that any of them were as important as you. 

Oh did you fucking love this man. 

“I hope she likes me” you whispered, puckering your lips against his thumb when he brushed it against your mouth.  

“She will.” He assured you while smiling fondly. “What’s not to like, baby?” 

“thank you…” you whispered, pecking him quickly. “I love you.”

“Love you.” He murmured, wanting to say so much more only to be interrupted by the ringing sound of his laptop. It was far easier to do FaceTime with both of you on the bigger screen and this way you wouldn’t be as squished up. 

You quickly adjusted your hair over your shoulders so it laid nicely, trying not to bite away the lipgloss you applied specifically for this call. You wanted to look nice to meet Anne for the first time, even if it was via FaceTime. 

The screen lit up with Anne’s gorgeous face and smile when Harry answered the call. His hand fell to your thigh immediately, reaching for your hand to intertwine your fingers together. 

“Hi mum.” Harry greeted with a bright smile. His entire demeanor lit up when he saw her and you could visibly feel his body relax a little. You had never seen Harry interact with any family before so it was just so… nice to watch. You felt warm inside even after two words. 

“Harry! Oh my gosh, your beard. It’s so lush. You look wonderful.” Anne beamed, her face bright and so warm. You had seen photos of her before, even stalked her Instagram a little to see what vibe she gave off and she was even lovelier than usual. 

“Thanks,” Harry sheepishly responded, stroking the stubble on his jaw. He didn’t grow it out very often, at least not to the length it had gone now. It was only when he was on holiday usually. But you liked his moustache and the feeling of his facial hair between your thighs so he was more than happy to give you what you wanted. Harry liked the look too, he just preferred being cleanly shaved for work. 

You were obviously more important than his job. 

“And you must be y/n! Oh, you’re gorgeous.” She cooed, looking right at you, “She’s gorgeous, H.” Her eyes flicked to Harry. 

“I know. Absolutely breathtaking” Harry brought your intertwined fingers to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand before setting it back down on your knee. 

“Thank you.” You blushed, “it’s so nice to meet you, Anne. Harry’s told me so much about you.” You squeezed Harry’s hand, feeling like you were in some sort of job interview. You were lost for words and so nervous. You couldn’t relax even if you wanted to. 

“Oh, I’m sure he has, darling.” She laughed. It was so warm and homely, much like Harry’s. “He’s such a storyteller, aren’t you, H? Always has been y’know, even as a kid. He used to dress up and perform plays for Gem and me. Oh, he was so cute!”

“Mum.” Harry scolded. Of course, it barely took a minute before she spoke about his childhood. He knew if you were all in her kitchen she’d have the photo albums out before you even arrived. 

“Oh shush, you. Don’t pretend you didn’t love it. He was such a little actor. A good singer too.” Anne replied, happy to be sharing stories about her son with an actual girlfriend of his. 

“Yeah he is,” you agreed, “He always leads our singing in the car.” You finished off with a giggle.

“I do not.” Harry defended.

“You so do! He always leads, Anne. Always.” You laughed, earning

“That’s not true, I sing plenty thank you very much.” Harry defended, knowing you were just riling him up when in fact your car singalongs were some of his favourite moments and a regular occurrence when you were out and about.

“Mhmm. Sure.” You teased, earning a pinch on your thigh in reprimand.  

“We’ve got one of those little karaoke machines here, y/n, and every Christmas Harry used to do a singalong with all the kids. He said it was because they loved it but we all knew it was because he did.” Anne smiled fondly at the memory, but you could feel the sudden shift in the air at the mention of Christmas. Something Harry hadn’t been to for years. “Anyway, that was a while ago…” she brushed off, but you could feel the way Harry was tensed against you. “Harry tells me you’re studying? Marketing, right?” 

“Yeah,” you confirmed, giving Harry’s hand a comforting squeeze. 

He wrapped his arm around your waist to hold onto you and intertwined your fingers with his other hand. It immediately made him calm down again. He wasn’t usually so sensitive but with so much going on and the possibility of him actually being at his family’s Christmas this year, it hit him a little harder than usual. It wasn’t Anne’s intention at all and Harry knew that, but it was hard to think about the years he missed. 

“I’m doing a double bachelor's degree in marketing and arts. It’s my final year so I’ve only got one semester left and then I’m free. Finally.” You finished with a nervous laugh. 

“Oh wow, that’s amazing  You must be so proud of your achievements,” She gushed like she was proud of you and it was the first time she had ever met you. Her energy was so kind and warm, exactly how Harry described. “I remember from Harry how hard it can be to be in university. All that study and stress. You’re working as well, aren’t you?” 

“Um thank you,” You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling a little shy at her sudden praise. “And I am, yeah. I’m working at a cafe on campus a couple days a week, sometimes more depending on my workload. It can be a lot sometimes but I’m trying to make the most out of it. I’ve made really good friends and we all live close by or have classes together so I want to have as much fun as I can before it’s all over. It’s crazy how fast it’s gone already.”

“Well from what Harry’s told me, you’re smart and very capable. I’m sure you’ll do great.” She replied earnestly, “do you have plans for after graduation?”

“I’m not 100% sure yet, actually. I always had this idea of going straight into work and if I find something I’m interested in I’ll definitely go for it but I don't know… I don’t think I’m in a rush to get there. I’d like to travel for a bit, maybe take some time to figure out what I want to do. I’d like to do my masters eventually as well so I’m not sure if I want to do that before going into full-time work or work a bit then do it. I’ll see how I go, really.” you smiled sheepishly, looking at Harry briefly. His entire focus was on you and he was squeezing your waist and hand encourgagingly. “For now I just want to get good results.”

“She’s incredibly smart and talented,” Harry complimented, kissing your temple lovingly. You blushed at the show of affection, especially in front of his mum. You loved it, you really did, it was just so unfamiliar to be so open in front of family. You two hadn’t even seen your mum together yet. “Whatever she does, she’ll be amazing at.”

“I’m sure you will be, y/n.” Anne echoed, feeling her own heart burst with how affectionate Harry was being with you. She had never seen him like this with anyone before. Not since he was a young boy anyway. 

“Thank you…” You whispered, smiling up at him. His gaze was so loving and so sincere. It was like you were his entire universe. You were getting way too flustered and at this point, you still hadn’t asked Anne any questions. You wanted the attention off yourself already. “And what about you, Anne? Harry told me you write children’s novels?”

“And illustrate.” She proudly added, “Oh it’s my passion…”

The phone call lasted a good hour. It was just a natural back-and-forth conversation between you all that felt so comfortable and so homely. After you finally relaxed and Harry did as well, it was easy to enjoy talking to her. Anne was so lovely and so sweet and funny, you already loved her. Archie of course got some limelight and you were able to show pictures of your family and friends and share so many details about your life.

It was only the first meeting and you felt like you were connecting well with her already. Even though Harry said he’d jump in if it got quiet, it just never did. You two were as chatty as anything and Harry barely got to speak unless he was directly addressed. It was wonderful. Anne never made your age seem like it was an issue, though you could tell she was surprised when you told her exactly how old you were. 

Harry told her more about you after you agreed to meet her and showed her photos of you and all that, but at that point, you realised that he never specified how old you were. You thought he would’ve been completely honest about your age gap and for the most part, he must’ve been, but it was a little surprising to see that look on her face.

It was only fleeting and if you didn’t see her surprised reaction, you would’ve never known because her attitude didn’t change. She seemed genuine in every way, but you hoped that she didn’t have any ill feelings towards you because of your age. It would’ve been understandable of course, especially considering your mum’s reaction to Harry, but you really liked her already and you wanted her to like you back.

“Alright mum, I’ll talk to you soon.” Harry bid his goodbye.

“Bye, darling. It was so nice meeting you too, y/n. Hopefully, it isn’t too long before I get to see you in person.” Anne waved into the camera, blowing you two a kiss through the screen.

“Hopefully not.” You smiled while waving back to her “Bye, Anne.”

The screen turned black once the call ended, leaving you two (and Archie) alone again. “So… how do you think it went?” You asked after a moment of silence. 

He grinned and cupped your face with both hands to look at you, “how do I think it went? Baby, you two didn’t stop talking the entire hour. I think it went perfectly.”

“Really?” You whispered, pecking his mouth before pulling back just enough so your noses were brushing together. “You think she liked me? She seemed so surprised when I told her how old I am.” 

Harry nodded, “I think she loved you. I told you she would.”

“I hope so because I loved her. She was so sweet.”

“She’ll love you saying that.” Harry grinned, humming before kissing you once more. He closed his eyes while pulling away, “mmh. I love you for saying that. I love you anyway, but even more now that you love my mum.” 

“And here I thought you couldn’t get more obsessed with me. All it took was impressing your mother and you’re kissing me and-”

Funny enough, it was a kiss paired with a firm hand around your throat that interrupted your words. The kiss changed from a smooth brush of your lips to something that had you whimpering and gasping for air in a matter of seconds. “I am obsessed with you.” He murmured, pulling away just enough to say the words before he kissed you again. You smiled into it and gripped his hair in a firm tug. 

“Can I… can I say something that might make you more obsessed with me?” You offered, panting a little while letting your hand fall to his thigh to give it a firm squeeze.  

“Impossible but I’m listening?” He grinned, leaning back against the couch. He grabbed onto your waist and pulled you towards him, hooking his hand under your knee to drag you across his lap so you were straddling him. It wasn’t meant to be sexual necessarily, just because he wanted you as close as possible. 

His arms wrapped around you as soon as you were settled and he was happy to slide them under your-well his nice knit jumper you stole for the call. It didn’t seem necessary to put a bra on when you two were just spending time at home today and only your shoulders up would be shown in the call. He was able to feel the entire expanse of your bare back and how soft your skin was. It was driving him mad. 

“I’ve been thinking… about London.” You swallowed thickly, a little nervous about the conversation you were about to have, “About Italy…” 

It was hard to communicate properly when his hands were rubbing all over your back and sides, his fingers even grazing the sides of your breasts for a moment before returning backwards. You had been thinking about the trip intensely over the last couple of days since he first brought it up to you and all the pros and cons of going. 

Your main concern was his family, but it wasn’t just that. When you two spoke about it, it was before your mum knew and there was so much uncertainty surrounding your parents. You knew you wouldn’t have been able to go on the trip without telling them about it and you couldn’t exactly do that without telling them the truth. Now that your mum knew and was happy for you… it kind of felt like that situation wasn’t a reason not to go on the trip anymore.

University was another concern but Harry was right in saying that the trip would barely overlap with your classes. Your semester ended just over a week before the trip, as did your assignments. You only had two exams and they were both luckily early on in the timetable, like even your university wanted you to go on this trip. They didn’t leave you much space for when Harry wanted to leave, barely a few days but you could manage. 

As for money… Harry already offered to cover everything… multiple times. You knew that if you did end up going it was non-negotiable for him to foot the bill as he simply wouldn’t have it any other way and while the thought kind of mortified you, you also knew he only offered because he genuinely wanted to do it. Besides, even if Harry offered to pay for it all, you still wanted to have your own money and realistically… you did. With how Harry paid you for months while you dog sat for him, you had really healthy savings and while most of it was reserved for actual living and your trip at the end of the year, you could afford to spend some of it. 

There were more reasons to go than not to go and you hoped that the concerns you did have could just be talked about. 

“Yeah? What about it?” Harry scratched your back lightly, making goosebumps rise all over your skin until you shivered against him. 

“Would you… would you still want me to go? If I could?” 

“You want to come? Seriously?” His eyes widened in glee and he perked up instantly. 

You laughed softly while playing with the curls at the back of his head, “I do and I can make it work with school it’s just… are you sure it’s not too soon? To… y’know, see your house and your childhood town and for us to spend an entire month together? We’ve only been together a couple of months. What if you get sick of me?”

“I’d never get sick of you.” He defended with a soft smile, hugging you close to him. “I want you to come more than anything, baby. Truly. It would make me so happy.”

“And what about your family? I want to support you and I’m happy to be there for you but I don’t want to overstep and I don’t want to… I don’t know, like, take away anything from your healing. I still think this is something you should do by yourself.”

“I understand what you’re saying, y/n and I get it.” His hands settled to your lower back in a loose hold while he maintained eye contact with you, “This is something I’ve been afraid of for years and I know I need to face it by myself but that doesn’t mean I don’t want you meeting anyone.” He flashed a soft smile, wrapping his arms properly around you. He hugged you against him, loving the feeling of having you close to him during a conversation like this. “Sure, Gem’s birthday might be off the table because who knows how that’s going to go, but I’d still love for you to meet my mum and… whoever else would be willing. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back, but I’d like to think you’d be received with open arms.”

Truthfully, Harry didn’t know what to expect from his visit home. He kept in contact with some of his closest cousins and friends, but there were still those who never really forgave him for what he did to Gemma. He wasn’t sure if they’d come around after the effort he was about to put into trying to mend that relationship, but they were all loving and earnest people. Harry hoped they’d be willing to forgive him. 

He was trying not to get too hopeful though. 

“Even if I’m not… received with open arms, I’d understand it.” You replied softly. “I just don’t want to be one of the reasons your family doesn’t want to give you a chance, that’s all.”

If this situation was reversed and your family member was coming to visit to try and mend things, only to bring his very new and young girlfriend along with him, you’d be hesitant for sure. It was why you had no expectations to meet anyone or attend any family reunions. You were very prepared to be spending days alone and exploring the city while Harry reconnected with everyone. You had always wanted to solo travel so you actually hoped you’d be able to spend some days just walking around by yourself. 

“Y/n… my sweet, sweet girl, you won’t be.” He assured, bringing his hands from under your jumper to cup your face. “There may be a chance they’re not very receptive to me, but that’ll be with or without you there…” He smiled lovingly, running his thumbs over your cheeks. His touch was an instant calm and you found yourself leaning into it heavily. “Look, I understand if you may feel a little awkward so I won’t push you to do anything, but if things are going well I don't see why you couldn’t meet everyone. I know my mum would want to have you over for dinner. Not sure if you’ll be able to get out of that. ”

You laughed softly at his comment and leaned forward to kiss him. “I’d love to meet your mum.” You declared softly, kissing him again. “Okay…” You whispered while pulling away, “I’m in.”

“Yeah?” He grinned.

“Yeah.” You echoed, nodding before squealing when Harry suddenly scooped you up from the couch. 

“How ‘bout we celebrate then, hm?” He mused, kissing you between words as he very quickly made his way upstairs. You laughed a little but agreed nonetheless, kissing him as much as possible until you were lying down on his bed. 

Archie had followed you upstairs with a toy in his mouth, tail wagging like you were all about to play a game until Harry quickly uttered those three words that made Archie whine like a sad puppy dog. “Harry, he’s crying.” You pouted, looking around Harry’s legs to make eye contact with the sad little boy. 

“He’ll be fine.” Harry laughed, “go on, Arch, go downstairs.” 

After another huff, Archie trotted off with his toy in his mouth, allowing Harry to close the bedroom door and leave you two alone. He turned back to face you, eyes dark and full of promise of what he was about to do to you. You couldn’t have been more excited. 

“I can’t believe we’re finally christening your bed.” You teased, pushing your sweatpants down your legs until they got caught around your ankles. Harry was quick to help you and pulled them off the rest of the way.

“Mhmm. It’s been way too long, baby… Still want to get my box of toys out, though. I’ve got a paddle and pink rope with your name on it.” He smirked, dumping your sweatpants onto the floor before pulling off his hoodie and shirt in one go. 

“When I sleep over. Please, when I sleep over…” you murmured, sitting up so Harry could pull your-his knit jumper off to join the growing pile on the floor. He quickly shoved his pants off before settling between your thighs and joining your mouths in a messy heated kiss. 

You’d never get sick of kissing him, not when it felt like an explosion in your belly and a tingling all over your body. Just a single peck had you completely swooning and you’d happily make out with him for hours without doing anything else.

Though knowing you two… it always turned into something else. Something more. 

“Baby there’s so many things I need to do to you. Just need time and privacy so I can make you scream as loud as I fucking want.” His words were low and rumbly, partly disappearing into the seam of your mouth because he just couldn’t part from your lips long enough to get a full sentence out. The fact that he used ‘need’ instead of ‘want’ drove you up the fucking wall and you were suddenly more desperate than ever to touch him.

“I’d do anything for that… anything…” You gasped, digging your fingers into his shoulders. His body was so big and heavy over you and you could already feel how hard he was pressed against you. Long and thick and all yours. Sometimes you had to pinch yourself when you thought about being with someone like Harry. 

“Mmh, I know you would.” He hummed, beginning to kiss along your jaw down to your neck. “Bet you’d beg for it too, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes…” You nodded breathlessly, pulling his mouth back to yours by cupping his jaw in both hands. With a little hook of your neck and a very clear ‘lay down’ mumbled into Harry’s mouth, he let you turn your bodies so he was against the bed and you were straddling him. 

“I love seeing you like this” Harry murmured, watching you adjust so you were kneeling between his legs instead of sitting on top of him. You smiled at the compliment and ran your hands over his chest, digging your nails into his skin ever so slightly so he groaned and squeezed your waist.

“I love seeing you like this” You replied, leaning down to press a kiss to the middle of his chest. “I love kissing you…” you continued, peppering kisses all over his chest and down to his abs, “...kissing your body, your tattoos…” 

Harry sighed above you, sliding his hand through your hair to sweep it across to one shoulder so it wasn’t covering your face. Every gentle touch of your lips against him had his entire body clenching with need. He knew you could feel it too. 

You took your time running your mouth and tongue over his body, tracing his tattoos and the contours of his muscles. There was just something so fucking sexy about having full access to him like this, of being able to touch and kiss wherever you liked. And you had time, you could take as much time in kissing him and touching him and making him cum in your mouth.

As far as your parents knew, you were out with Lucy for the night. You weren’t particularly sure if your mum believed your lie when you walked out the door after dropping your things off, but you didn’t really pay too much attention to it when your call with Anne was on your mind. There was a change in your schedule this week which allowed you to sleep at your childhood home midweek for once and you took it immediately. Being away from home was harder than ever now that you and Harry were seeing each other and you were getting a bit homesick. 

You loved living by yourself, but you missed the moments you used to have with your parents. Your nightly Netflix binges with your mum and cooking with your dad. It was why you loved to come home and why you tried to spend as much time here as possible. Now that Harry was in the picture… well your homesickness was for him as well as your family.

It always got bad towards the end of the semester too and you were feeling it extra hard this time. You were run down and tired and pushed to your absolute limit and all you wanted to do was go home and be a kid again. Nowadays all you wanted was to curl into Harry’s arms and forget all your responsibilities existed. 

Oh… and you absolutely wanted to do this…

“Especially love these ones…” you continued, kissing over his right fern tattoo before pressing your tongue flat against the leaves. “And biting here…” licking a trail up to his hip, you very happily bit down on the spot right above his waistband before starting to work on making a small hickey there. 

“Shit…” Harry breathed, clenching his jaw. His fingers tightened in your hair, trying to control every cell in his body that wanted to take control of the situation. Your teasing was torturous and his cock was so goddamn sore he didn’t think he’d even be able to last a full minute once you got your mouth on him. At least he hoped that’s where this was going. However, he really did not care as long as you were just touching him in some capacity.

“Wanna know what I really love, though?” You asked, looking directly up at him while tucking your fingers into the waistband of his tight briefs. His cock was pressing angrily against the soft material and all you wanted to do was get your mouth on it. 

“What’s that?”

“Tasting your cock…” you reached down and licked along his length through his underwear, loving the way his filthy moan echoed around the room. “Can I? Please…”

“Fuck… of course you can.” Harry swallowed thickly, almost trembling when you found his tip and sucked ever so gently on it. “Shit baby… take me out.”

Right as you were about to free his cock and finally taste him, the sound of Harry’s doorbell echoed outside his bedroom door. He had an intercom system upstairs and in his kitchen so the sound was always loudest in those two areas. Archie’s barking followed the ringing soon after and you could hear the distinct sound of him jumping around near the front door.

“Who the fuck would be here right now?” Harry cursed, rubbing his hand over his face. 

“Just ignore it. We’re busy.” You shrugged, licking him through his briefs again. You were a big fan of ignoring the door and your phone when you didn’t want to speak with someone but if there was one thing you noticed about your parents and well… Harry’s generation was that they were incapable of putting their phone on silent. 

Harry shuddered and hissed at your hot tongue against his cock and soon the door was the last thing on his mind. “You’re right… you’re right. For the love of god, please continue baby.” He practically pleaded, almost coming at the dazed-doe expression you had on your face. It looked like you were almost enjoying this more than him. Almost. 

You got back to it and kissed along his skin as you pulled his boxers down, following the waistband with your mouth until your lips brushed against the very base of him. His fingers tightened in your hair the further down his length you got until you had licked a trail from his base right to his tip. 

But then the doorbell rang again, just as you were about to pull his underwear completely down his thighs. 

“Fuck. This better be fucking important” Harry cursed again, reluctantly letting go of your hair. You made a noise of indignation and pulled his boxers back up for him before making space so he could get up from the bed. You flopped onto your back, looking at him with straight annoyance at the fact he was taking his cock away from you. “I’ll be right back, y/n. Right back.” He promised, reaching down to peck your mouth. “I’m just going to see who it is, okay?” 

All Harry had to do was walk a little down his hallway where the intercom was and he could speak to whoever was at the gate. He could do it from his phone too but he left that downstairs and there was no way he was walking all the way down there with a sore cock just to turn away whoever was trying to sell him something. 

“Hurry upppp.” You complained, already impatient with him leaving you. 

“Just be patient, y/n.” Harry tutted, trying not to show how dizzy he was by how eager you were to suck him off. You could give him head every day or once a month and he’d be as eager and grateful for it every single time. There was just something about enthusiastic head that drove Harry up the fucking wall. 

Harry adjusted his cock in his boxers before pressing the video button to see who was at his gate and when the clear image popped up, his eyes nearly fell out of his head. “Uhh… y/n?”

“Yeah?” you called back, staring up at the ceiling while clenching and unclenching the duvet in your hands to try and distract yourself from how horny you were.

“It’s your mum.”

“What!?” You shot up from the bed immediately, looking at him wide-eyed. “What the hell is she doing here?” 

It was an immediate cause of panic for the two of you, like you were two teenagers being caught having sex after your parents came home too early. But neither of you were teenagers and you were in the privacy of your own home. Well, Harry’s home.

“I don’t know! What do I do?” Even Harry was panicking, mostly at the loss of his time with you but also because he had no idea what your mum wanted. As bad as it was, he hadn’t spoken to her properly since she found out about you two. He hadn’t seen her due to his work schedule and he didn’t really feel right going over for a cup of tea to talk about your relationship without you being present. 

“Just answer it, I don’t know!?”

“Okay… shit. Okay.” Harry cleared his throat before pressing the call button to speak to your mum, “Hi Jules, everything alright?”

“Is my daughter in there?” 

You pressed your hands to your face and groaned into them, already recognising the slight tinge of drunkenness in her voice. Even through the intercom, you could identify the one, potentially one and a half glasses of wine she had. 

“I know she’s there, Harry, so I suggest you let me in so we can all chat.” Jules continued.

Harry looked back at you and took his finger off the button, giving you a look that basically asked, ‘so what should I do?’. 

“Well we don’t exactly have a choice, do we? I can’t lie to her again.” 

“I’ll be right down, Jules.”

Barely two minutes later you were opening the front door and letting your mum into Harry’s house. It was possibly the weirdest situation you had ever been in and you didn’t have the slightest idea why she'd be here.

“Mum, what are you doing here? You can’t just show up like this!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms when her eyes landed on Harry’s knit sweater. Both of you were in a severe rush to get your clothes back on and you opted to greet her so he’d have a little more time to sort himself out. He was as hard as anything upstairs and there was no way he was coming back down without trying to get rid of it. 

“I can and I will. You lied to me, y/n. I thought telling me about you two was so you wouldn’t lie.”

“I couldn’t exactly openly say that I’m spending the afternoon with Harry, could I? You’re being so weird about us still and Dad doesn’t even know.”

“That’s why I’m here. I can’t keep it a secret anymore! You know how dad is, every time he flashes those puppy eyes or makes me dinner I’m ready to spill everything. He knows I’m hiding something. You two need to tell him and-” she stopped herself abruptly, “where even is Harry? This is for all of us to talk about not just you and me. He hasn’t even come to talk to me too, by the way. Just so you know.”

“I apologise for that,” Harry interjected, making himself known as he walked down the stairs to join you two. He seemed settled enough and far more nonchalant than you were. You still felt and probably looked all flushed and nervous. 

It wasn’t every day your mum interrupted you about to give your boyfriend a fucking blowjob. Hiding where you were was for that exact reason. Because she simply couldn’t deal with you two being alone in his house yet and you knew it. 

“I haven’t seen you since y/n told me you knew and I felt it was important for all of us to discuss it together. I wasn’t avoiding you by any means, Jules.” He flashed that smooth buttery smile as he stood beside you, resting his hand on your lower back. “Should I put the kettle on? Or would you rather have a nice glass of Cabernet Sauvignon?”

You had never been more grateful for Harry’s effortless ability to charm women. In a second your mum went from alarmed and ready to tell Harry off to calm and pliant. Part of you fucking hated it, the other was glad she wasn’t giving you that panicked look anymore. 

Barely five minutes later all three of you were sitting on Harry’s dining table with wines in hand. The atmosphere felt like something you had to fight your way through just to breathe. It was awkward and a little tense, something you hoped it wouldn’t be after your mum gave her support to your relationship. But she was clearly upset that he hadn’t spoken to her. 

It was understandable to a degree but at the same time, if Harry was a boy your age she wouldn’t want to grill him so fucking hard. She’d probably call your relationship cute and sweet and ask questions about his family and any siblings. 

Instead, she was asking him the same questions she asked you already, trying to watch with her own eyes whether Harry was earnest and truthful about his affection for you. The wine she drank drove her questions, none thankfully which were about your sex life. She had no problems asking Harry if he worried about dying at 70 and leaving you young at 50 years old, though, which wasn’t exactly a conversation you wanted to have. 

“Mum. Seriously, what are these questions? If he was my age would you ask that?” You scolded, getting a headache. She had no ill intentions of course and she only wanted the best for you, but the way she was grilling Harry was killing you. 

“I want to know if he’s seriously thought about it, y/n. That’s all.” Mum defended. “Have you thought about it?”

Truthfully, until she asked the question the thought had never crossed your mind. Now, you were definitely going to think about it. 

“It’s okay, y/n. She’s just worried as any mother should be.” Harry tried to assure you, bringing your intertwined fingers to his mouth to kiss the back of your hand. He hid it well, but even Harry was taken aback by her questioning and it took a lot to surprise him. He flashed a calm smile before turning to your mum, “I think about our future every day, Jules, and I don’t take it lightly. I just want to make y/n happy. That’s all I want. If I give her 2 years, 5 years, 40 years of happiness I’ll be happy.” 

The thought of that made you giddy. Not the idea of your relationship being limited to two years, but knowing that this could be the rest of your life. 

“Hm.” Your mum responded, sipping her wine. “Okay, well I know where you live so any problems and I know where to find you.” 

“Yes, you do.” Harry chuckled, resting his arm on the back of your chair. His fingers found your hair and he fiddled with it in his fingers. It was hard for either of you to forget what was so rudely interrupted earlier. 

Your mum’s eyes drifted to his fingers playing with your hair and you could see the soften of fondness drift in her expression. All she wanted was to make sure you were okay and happy and while her grilling may have annoyed you, you knew it was because she loved you and nothing else. Harry wasn’t a twenty-something-year-old, he was 17 years older than you so your mum had every right to make sure he was treating you well. Especially since you were neighbours for years. 

“Well I’m happy,” Mum finished off her glass and stood up from the table, “now you two are coming for dinner. I’ll give you half an hour and you better make sure you look more put together than you do now.” 

“Mum-” you tried to interject, standing abruptly from the table as well. 

“No. You need to tell your dad. I can’t keep this a secret any longer and neither should you two.” She looked at Harry briefly, but you both knew that this whole situation fell on your shoulders. 

You looked down at Harry who was already looking up at you. He nodded gently, reading the question from your one look. Standing up, he squeezed your shoulder before letting his hand fall to your waist. 

“We’ll be there. It’ll be nice to finally have everything out in the open.” He squeezed your waist, trying to ease some of the anxiety clawing its way up your throat. You nodded and pressed your hand to his lower back, fisting his hoodie. 

“We’ll see you then, mum.” 

Neither you nor Harry could relax once she left. There was no going back to what was interrupted so all you could do was go back upstairs to clean up a little better, which really was just brushing your hair and Harry changing into something a little nicer. You were going to stay in his jumper and your sweats because it was the only clothes you had, but Harry wasn’t one to show up in a sweat set for dinner with your parents, especially when it was such a heavy evening. 

You just hoped that your dad wasn’t going to explode. That he’d have a reaction calm enough that you’d be able to discuss it all without anyone yelling. Your dad was kind and generous and he loved you more than anything, but he was also protective. Fiercely protective. The first time you were hurt by a boy as a young teen he almost went to that boy's house to confront him and it wasn’t to have a chat. 

Him and Harry were… friendly but not exceptionally close. You always found it a little odd that Harry never wanted to become friends with anyone in the neighbourhood, even when he had common interests with them. Both Harry and your dad liked golf and soccer and yet they never did more than a casual chat over the fence or at a barbecue Harry only attended once in a blue moon. 

Now… you were grateful for the distance Harry kept because it meant their relationship was pleasant but not close enough for there to be some sort of loyalty. There was no betrayal for dating someone a bit younger than your parents. No sides where your dad could feel offended for you dating a friend of his. 

Still, there was no prediction of what his reaction would be. 

“Mum, dad! We’re here!” You called through the house as you both walked towards the living area. Harry held your hand tightly, walking closely beside you until you entered kitchen. Once you were in view of your parents he let go of your hand as per what you two agreed. You wanted to settle into dinner before you said anything to your dad, so for now you had to act like you just went over to visit him and your mum extended the invitation for dinner. 

“Hey pumpkin,” Dad greeted immediately, leaving his pot on the stove unattended while he approached you immediately for a hug. “How are you? Missed you.” He squeezed. 

“‘M good. Tired. How was work?” You hugged him back, smiling at the feeling of him kissing the top of your head while he released you from the hug. 

“Same old, P.” He shrugged, squeezing your shoulder before moving onto Harry. “Harry, mate. How are you? ” Tim greeted with a wide grin, extending his hand for Harry to shake until they went into one of those quick bro hugs. “Glad you could join us!”

“‘Course, thank you so much for having me.” Harry smiled back.

Dad was as happy as anything with Harry being present, especially after Harry offered one of the more expensive wine bottles from his collection as a gift. They got into immediate conversation while Dad got back to cooking and Harry joined him. He offered his help and wound up pouring Mum and you a glass of that expensive wine each. Your mum definitely didn’t need it, but you sure as hell did.

It was such a nice domestic scene to watch. The way Harry so effortlessly conversed with your parents and made himself at home in your kitchen to help out was fucking sexy, that’s what it was. Your mum and you were able to just sit at the island bench and watch while your partners did all the work, which is exactly how it was when it was just you and Harry. Of course, only three of you in the room knew the truth, but even so, there was no akwardness or tension in the air.

You were sure that would change once your dad found out, but your mum was as happy as anything and she did know. It was like the conversation you had barely an hour ago settled all the nerves in her stomach. That or she was in her happy place watching dad cook so having Harry easily join into that arrangement made it easier for her to like him.

“Maybe I am a fan of Harry because not only do I get to look at one, but two very sexy men in the kitchen.” Mum whispered to you before exploding in a fit of drunk giggles. You gasped but joined her in her laughter, happy that she was able to joke and relax… even if it was a little weird for her to call your boyfriend sexy.

“What are you two giggling about?” Harry mused, sipping his wine through a smile while looking directly at you.

“It’s better if you don’t know, mate. My wife has a habit of objectifying men.” Dad joked, turning around with the pot of gnocchi to serve it into the bowls Harry got out for him. 

“I do not! That’s slander. Defamation.” Mum defended. 

“Well, I’m flattered.” Harry laughed while grabbing the bottle of wine to offer a refill, “Y/n, would you like some more?”

Truthfully it was hard for you to concentrate on anything being said because if there was one thing your mother did get right, it was that Harry was a sexy man. You had never felt the loss of your interruption more than now. His navy sweater was pushed up to his elbows and he had one hand pressed to the bench while the held the bottle in the other. All you could focus on was his tattooed forearm and the veins in his hand. He was ringless as you two were relaxing after he got home from work and there wasn’t much point putting them back on when he wanted his knuckles deep inside you at some point during the night. 

The absence of his rings did nothing to diminish his attractiveness though because somehow the missing pieces allowed your eyes to focus on his veins instead. The way they made his arm look stronger and his fingers longer… how they tensed and protruded when he gripped your thigh or your throat. All you could fucking think about was him wrapping that same veiny hand around his cock to guide it to your mouth or pussy. 

Jesus…

“y/n?” 

“Hm?” You blinked, suddenly coming back into focus, “Oh, um yeah. Yes please.” 

You sat a little taller and slid your glass towards Harry, finding a cheeky fucking smirk on his face. He said nothing, but you could read everything in his expression. Harry pressed his tongue against his cheek while pouring your wine, focused on the way you bit down on your bottom lip. It was an anxious habit you had since before you two even became friends and was one of the first things he noticed about you that drove him crazy.

Now all he wanted to do was reach against the bench and tug your lip free to correct the behaviour. Seeing you be so enthusiastic at the mention of rope and toys had him going fucking crazy and now it was all he could think about. Having you bent over against his bed while he spanked you or spread wide and tied up for him so he could overstimulate you with a vibrator. 

He was fucked. His cock was still sore as he couldn’t exactly nut one out with your mum downstairs and his mind was dizzy just at the sight of you sitting there all cozy in his sweater. You were makeup free and flushed from wine and it was one of his favourite sights. He loved you in anything really, or nothing at all, but being in your kitchen with your parents and cooking together and enjoying wine like it was a normal occurrence stirred something in him.

It stroked that box inside of him that yearned for a family. The box you had cracked open and kept open just by being you.

“Thank you.” You whispered, suddenly aching for his touch. You just wanted to cuddle into him or hold his hand or anything. 

“You’re welcome, love.” He smiled, moving onto your mum. 

“Alright, dinner’s served. Pumpkin would you mind taking these to the table?” Dad motioned to the bowl of freshly grated parmesan and the salt and pepper shakers. You nodded and grabbed the items, tucking the shakers under your arm so you could carry your wine over to the table at the same time.

Soon Dad and Harry brought the bowls of gnocchi over to the table and you were all happily chatting away. Your mum made a very strategic play of ensuring Harry sat beside you, which was quite easy when she clung to your dad like they just started dating. 

Their affection was one thing you always admired about them. Even after all this time they still hugged and kissed and showed those quiet displays of affection. A peck on the cheek or holding her chair out before she even had an opportunity to sit down in it. Cracking pepper over her food without even needing to be asked because he knew she liked it. A hand on the small of her back and him carrying her shopping bags like the thought of her lifting a single finger even in an activity she enjoyed was torturous.

It was why you found the small gestures Harry did so much more gratifying than any big ones. The every day little things he did, possibly without even thinking about them that just made you feel special and important. His good morning texts and check-ins to ask if you had eaten or drank water, which you always forgot to do in your heavy study grinds. The daily goodnight phone calls where he asked about your day, which yeah sure, bare minimum, but he just treated you like you were the most important thing on the planet. 

It was why you were so head over heels in love with him.

“Dad, I have to tell you something.” You didn’t mean to blurt it out, really. Not in the middle of everyone enjoying their gnocchi anyway but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to talk about it after dinner so if anything went pear shaped at the very least your food wasn’t ruined, but the more you thought about it the more anxious you got and you didn’t want to put it off any longer. 

“Okay…” Dad’s eyes flicked to Harry briefly and you could see the look of concern flash in his eyes. “Everything okay, y/n?”

“Yes. Yes everythings fine I just…” This time it was your turn to look at Harry, whose gaze was soft and adoring. He immediately stopped eating to gave his full attention to you and found your fingers underneath the table for support. “I’m seeing someone.”

Your dad’s eyes widened in surprise and he was quick to look at your mum, “Oh wow. Wow. Did you know about this?” 

She nodded, “Yes. Not for long though.”

“Okay… shit, okay. First boyfriend, I hope. Unless you hid another relationship from me?” His tone was light and you just coughed out an uneasy laugh in response.

“Nope. First one, Dad.”

Harry tried to hide his amusement by rubbing his spare hand over his mouth. He made brief eye contact with Jules across the table who shared a similar expression. Hers was also laced with stress, but she flashed him a smile anyway.

“Well that’s fantastic.” Dad declared, spooning another scoop of his gnocchi into his mouth. “Who is he? Do I know him?...” He spoke between chews, “Is he that boy from your birthday last year? Y’know the one I didn’t like?”

“Um no not him, but you do know him. He’s really kind and funny… even plays golf like you do.” You chuckled at the way your dad’s eyes seemed to light up at that information. The entire time you spoke Harry kept his hand in yours and smoothed his thumb over the back of your hand. “He’s sweet and has a dog-”

“You love dogs.” Dad pointed out, to which you nodded with a smile.

“I do. He treats me really well and… well, I’m really happy with him Dad. Really happy.” 

“That’s all I want for you, pumpkin, you know that.” Dad smiled at you fondly, sipping his wine. “So who is he, then? Better not be one of my boys.” He referred to his company, hoping it wasn’t one of the idiots he had working for him. They were good on the tools but for the most part had no fucking idea how to treat a woman. His daughter especially.

“It’s Harry.” 

You just had to say it. You had built up his character in hopes to make a smooth introduction, but all that happened when you brought your intertwined fingers up onto the table was dead fucking silence. The mood disappeared instantly and a whirlwind of emotions circulated in the air. Dad didn’t say anything, Harry didn’t say anything, no one said anything. 

“Dad?” You swallowed thickly after what felt like an eternity of silence, watching his eyes flick between your face, Harry’s face then your held hands on the table.

“You’re lying. This is a joke right?” Dad laughed, suddenly standing from the table. “This is just some stupid joke for tiktak or facebook or whatever, right?”

“No… Dad, it’s not a trick. I’m not lying to you.” You stood from the table, pressing your hands to the top of it to keep you steady. His immediate reaction freaked you out and you weren’t sure where it was going to go from here.

“Y/n, he’s double your age. Are you serious!?” He snapped, jaw clenched.

“I am. I am serious.”

“And you knew about this?” His head whipped to your mum, “You knew she was dating him and let it happen?” Mum didn’t get a chance to respond before he was looking back at you, eyes showing just how hurt and angry he was about your relationship. “Y/n. My office.  Now.”

He had never spoken down at you like that before. Even as a child your dad was always gentle and corrected behavior rather than yelled to tell you off. He always heard you out, always. When you wanted to move away for school he was so damn against it because he thought it was a waste when there were good schools, even better ones closer by. But he listened to you and your reasoning. 

He hadn’t even given you an opportunity to reason with him yet. 

“No.” You shook your head, watching his eyes widen in surprise at your clear disagreement. “You have always given me the benefit of the doubt, dad. Always. Just let me talk and explain. Please.”

“This is ridiculous.” Dad spat, running his hand through his hair in utter disbelief of what was going on.

“Tim, please. I’ve listened to both of them and I think you should too.” This time it was your mum’s turn to step in. She put a gentle hand on his arm and you could visibly see the way your dad started to calm down a little bit. “She’s happy.” Her tone grew soft, as did her eyes. 

“Please, Dad.”

Your Dad looked over to you, then to Harry then back to you like you were his final destination. You flashed a pleading look, one he had never resisted before. It was like the cogs were visibly turning in his head and there was another long pause before he grabbed the half-opened bottle of wine on the table and filled his glass to the brim.

He collapsed down in his chair and chugged half the glass then placed it back down on the table. You looked over at Harry and you both excganhed a look of both concern and confusion, not really sure where this was going to go.

“Alright, y/n. I’m listening.”

You spent the next half hour explaining everything. You wanted to be as honest as possible about your relationship without exposing the entire truth because you didn’t really need him knowing that you and Harry hooked up for weeks before dating. All he needed to know was that there was attraction there but you didn’t want to start anything because of the many reasons there were. And that part was the truth.

And he genuinely listened. His initial shock and disagreement for it had faded away a little bit and he was actually able to listen and ask questions and try and understand what you two had going on. You could kind of tell that everything you said just didn’t click with him, but he wasn’t reacting that way. For the most part his grilling was towards Harry and while part of you was happy to be out of the firing line, the other was worried that Harry was in it.

“So her age isn’t some weird kink of yours?” 

“Dad!” you scolded, slowly sinking down into your chair. It was like your parents had no filter. That or they just didn’t care about boundaries or how things came across.

“It’s okay, y/n.” Harry assured you, just like he did when your mum asked her death questions. Mum seemed to go worst case scenario with everything while your dad automatically assumed everyone was out to get you. It was an only child thing. “No, Tim, it isn’t. Y/n is the youngest woman I’ve ever dated in comparison to myself, yes, but that isn’t the reason I love her. In the beginning it was actually one of the reasons I didn’t want to pursue things with her but as we became friends… I realised that we had so much in common that it was hard to ignore how I felt about her. I think I knew from the moment things changed that she was different to any other woman I’ve met. There are infinite reasons I love her and care for her.”

It was question and answer just like that, and every single time Harry was able to provide some answer that had you absolutely swooning over him. Even the most awkward just fucked questions, Harry had no reaction to them. Nothing phased him. It was like he had prepared answers for everything that might come his way. 

“Okay, I’ve heard you two so now I think you should hear me.” Dad clasped his hands together and rested them on the table. “I still don’t think this is a good idea.” 

You went to protest his opinion but he quickly shut you down and glared at you. “Ah.” He tutted before continuing to speak. “I don’t think this is a good idea because he’s just too old for you, pumpkin. You two can love each other and have fun and think that this is forever, but you’re not realistic and I don’t think it’ll work in the long run. For kids, for life experiences, for everything. Your age gap will always dictate everything you do and I don’t want that for you.”

Harry grabbed your hand under the table and squeezed it tight, providing comfort you so desperately needed. Every word your dad said was just hurting you more and more. If your mum could see the potential in your relationship, why couldn’t he?

“I know you two don’t need my blessing and you’ll just keep seeing each other anyway, but I can’t agree with it.” Dad shook his head and stood up suddenly, “You’re happiness is my happiness, y/n so I won’t stay in the way, but don’t expect anything more from me than the bare minimum. Understand?”

You just nodded, a little at loss for words. It wasn’t the worst outcome in the world, but it also wasn’t the best. Your dreams of everyone getting along suddenly seemed so far away. Dad looked at you like you were still his sun, moon and stars but when he looked at Harry… it was like he hated him. A solid unwavering dislike that lasted generations and all it took was him finding out Harry was a whole lot more than your neighbour.

To think less than an hour ago your Dad and Harry were laughing like they were best friends and now… they were practically strangers.

“I understand your hesitation but I want you to know that I’d never hurt your daughter. This is the most serious I have ever been in my life about anyone and I hope one day you can see that.” Harry stood up from the table as well, extending his hand across your cold, forgotten food as a gesture of good will to your Dad. 

But all Dad did was look down at Harry’s olive branch then back up at his face. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed. I have work in the morning.” 

Harry’s hand fell to his side but he didn’t look deterred at all. If this situation was in reverse and this was Harry’s family… you’d be in tears. Dad bid goodnight to your mum as he usually did then rounded the table to hug you too. It was brief and distant enough to make your heart ache. Still, he whispered an ‘I love you’ before leaving the room without another look at Harry.

“Well…” Mum announced, grabbing the second bottle of wine that emerged on the table sometime during your discussion to pour herself another glass. She clearly wasn’t going to work tomorrow. Luckily her husband was her business partner. She took a happy sip and looked at both you and Harry over the rim. “I don’t know about you two but I think that went a lot better than I expected.”

You knew she was right, but it didn’t really feel that way. 

“He’ll come around.” Harry shrugged, starting to stack the dishes so he could take them to the kitchen. “In time.”

Yeah… in time. 

//

“Mr. Styles, you’ve got a visitor.” Sharon opened his office door, peaking in just enough for him to see her face.

He replied without looking up, focused on the document in front of him. “Who? I’ve got an appointment with Niall in 10.” 

“Y/n? She said you’ll make time for her.” 

Yeah fucking right he was going to make time for her. His eyes snapped to hers quickly and she could see how his irritation had disappeared into thin air. 

“Do you want me to bring her in?” She continued, pointing behind her. 

Trying to hide his excitement, he set his pen down and quickly stood up, buttoning up his suit jacket. “No. I’ll go and get her.”

She had a mischievous smile playing on her lips and flashed a knowing look to her boss, someone she managed to create a pleasant working relationship with. 

“She must be special for you to go get her yourself.” There was a slight tease in her tone as she walked alongside Harry down the hall to where you were standing in the small waiting lounge. You hadn’t been back since that day Harry took you to Pleasing. You had often met in the city for lunch but never at his office. This time you wanted to surprise him. 

“What did I tell you about speculating about my personal life?” His tone was humorous, but Sharon knew he was being serious. 

“Right. Sorry. You just never have anyone visit.”

“I’m kidding, Sharon. She’s very special. She’s the love of my life.”

A soft smile played on her lips. Harry was a serious guy basically all the time. Seeing him look so happy was a nice change. She had noticed that he seemed happier recently too and more relaxed at work than usual. “Let me know if you need anything cancelled.” 

“Thank you.” His thanks was brief, a murmur like he didn’t mean the words because there you were sitting all pretty on one of the sofas scrolling away at your phone. You had one of the tote bags Harry bought you beside you and it looked full to the brim. It was one of the bags you two had matching, as were the pair of gazelles on your feet. You saw them in an ad online and told Harry how much you liked them and he was quick to order you a pair. You didn’t show them to him so he’d buy them for you but he liked to spoil you. They were cheap and Harry quite liked the look of them as well so he decided to buy himself a pair too. 

You always got so shy when he bought you something, always grateful. When he asked you why you got like that, you explained it wasn’t the item, but the thought behind it. He noticed everything to the point you were convinced he was writing notes or had tabs on your browser history because he was always showing up with something you made a passing comment about. 

Even the very same shoes you had on your feet. He showed up to his routine night at your house wearing his and was like a giddy kid giving you the box with your own pair in it. 

“Oh my god, you got the shoes! They look so good on you.” You beamed, eyes immediately drawn to his feet. They were the third thing you noticed about him. After his pretty face, his pretty mouth and those black joggers he wore when he wanted to be super comfy. They always managed to turn you on a crazy amount. 

Harry knew that too of course.

“I got you a pair too.” He smiled widely, practically throwing his overnight bags on your bed so he could open one of them to take out the shoe box. You thought you were bad with the amount of shit you took with you on your sleepovers, but no, Harry was just as bad. Worse even. He had some comfy clothes stashed at your place but if he was staying a weekend he always brought multiple outfit options and his entire stash of toiletries. 

It was sexy. You felt like a rich housewife when you laid on your bed watching him get dressed while he asked for your opinion on everything. 

“You didn’t!” Your mouth gaped in shock, grabbing onto the shoe box to open it. You didn’t expect to find the exact same pair as Harry’s inside, but it was a pleasant surprise to find that he had gone out and bought matching shoes for you two. It was possibly the cutest thing ever. “Matching shoes?” You smiled, looking up at him from the box.

He suddenly appeared very shy, like the very idea of being one of those couples who had matching clothes and outfits was a stupid idea. A sheepish expression flashed over his face and he tucked his hands behind his back like a dog tucked their tail between their legs. “Yeah… but if you don’t like them I can return them. Or even if you don’t like the colour we can swap th-” 

You interrupted him by chucking the box on your bed and pulling his face down to yours to give him a big thank-you kiss. “I love them.” You assured him before kissing him again. He smiled into it, wrapping his arms around your body to lean back and lift you off the floor until your tippy toes skimmed the rug. “Thanks for being the best sugar daddy ever.” 

Harry’s laugh broke the kiss while he set you back down on the floor. “Does that mean I get sugar in return then? Since I bought you shoes and dinner.” He let his hands crawl down to your ass, squeezing your cheeks through your leggings with both hands.

“Fuck off.” You hit his chest, trying to act like you didn’t want to give him sugar when in reality you had been waiting to see him all day in hopes he was horny. He usually was. “I’m not an object. You can’t buy me.”

“I can’t?” He raised a brow, “I saw you look at my cock the moment I walked in, y/n. Had you in the palm of my hand just because I wore the sweatpants you like.” Harry had this cocky shit-eating grin on his face that made you want to hit him. Because he was right. All it took was a simple pair of (expensive) sweatpants and you were ready to spread your legs for him. And he brought shoes and dinner? Maybe you could be bought.

Who were you kidding, you definitely could be bought. 

“You’re annoying.” You huffed, grabbing the collar of his to pull him in for a kiss. It only lasted a second before you pulled back, rolling your eyes at the pure look of satisfaction on his face. “Just because you’re right this time doesn’t mean you’re right all the time.”

“No?” He ran his tongue over his teeth, using his hands on your ass so he could pick you up and set you down on the bed. “You want to test that theory?” 

You watched as he smoothly shoved all his belongings (and your shoes) off the bed before taking his sweatshirt and t-shirt off in one go. He grabbed the back of both collars near his neck to do so and fuck. You never understood why it was so sexy when men removed their shirts like that and yet it had you sweating.

“I’m up for some experimentation...”

The sight of you standing from the sofa broke him free from the memory, which was probably best because you were wearing those jeans that made your ass look incredible and the memory associated to them was heading down a reverse cowgirl lane. He didn’t exactly want to be getting hard in the middle of his office. 

“Hi.” You beamed, quickly tucking your phone into your back pocket and slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“Hi…” Harry beamed, immediately drawing you in for a tight hug. You smiled into it, careful not to get makeup on his expensive suit. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have classes today?” He asked, pulling back while letting his hands rest on your hips. 

“I skipped.” You shrugged, “It was just a lecture anyway and I wanted to finish work off at home. I wanted to surprise you too.” You smiled softly, resting your hands on his chest. 

“I’m so happy you’re here, baby. Truly.” he squeezed your hips, biting down on his bottom lip as his expression turned almost painful. “But Niall will be here in five minutes... I can cancel, though. I will cancel.” 

“About that…” you looked away for a moment, making brief eye contact with a random girl at her desk who seemed far more interested in you and Harry than her work. “I’m Niall.”

“Since when?” He shot back, laughing softly. “No. Seriously. Since when?”

“Stop.” You protested, poking his chest at his teasing. “I wanted to make sure we had time and… well it was kind of fun, actually.” You admitted, watching his eyes twinkle at your admission, “I even called pretending to be his assistant.”

Harry laughed loudly, head tilting back in that gorgeous wide smile that you adored of his. His happiness seemed to capture the attention of anyone nearby and you suddenly felt quite overwhelmed with all the eyes on you two. You didn’t particularly dress up to see him and compared to everyone else in their business attire, you looked extremely casual and young. 

“You could’ve just texted me, baby. I would’ve made time for you.” 

He was so free with his affection for you. So willing to show you off. He wasn’t hiding that you two were a couple or even toning anything down. It made you feel so special. So important. 

It felt so free knowing that your parents knew about him. Even if Dad was pretty against it, mum was happy for you. She was happy that you finally found someone who you deemed worthy to date you and who made you happy and one was better than none. 

You were just so scared to tell them about the trip. Knowing that your mum was willing to accept your relationship made the whole world of difference but your anxiety was at an all time high. Now that everything was in the open, it felt like you two could move on to the next stage of your relationship as well as the next steps Harry had to take with his family situation. While it was his family and a problem that existed before you two even met, you were going to be there on the trip for him in whatever capacity he needed. 

You didn’t want to get involved because families could be so messy and it truly wasn’t your place, but you wanted to support him. You were going to support him.

“Yeah, but then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” You replied in a ‘duh’ tone before widening your tote bag to show him its contents. “See. I brought sushi for lunch.”

After everything he’s been doing for you to get ready for your trip, you felt like it was a nice gesture to bring him lunch as a bit of a thank you. It wasn’t the end of your gratitude and not the first thank you, but it was a start. Harry was even going as far as offering his credit card to you for any pre-trip shopping as well as a designated shopping day to buy you anything you may need. He knew you well enough to know you were already looking for new dresses and swimsuits and options on options for clothing and wanted to cover all of it. He bought you things he thought you’d like (or selfishly just because he wanted to see you in them) and had already sat through a clothing haul and it had barely been a week since he booked your flight. 

He just loved to spend his money on you. It was almost a turn-on for him to see you enjoy the fruits of his labour. A dress he thought you’d look pretty in or a pair of shoes you had your eye on. He liked to keep your belly full and your heart happy and wanted nothing more than for you to be taken care of in any way. It wasn’t to diminish your hard work or make you feel like you couldn’t afford the things you wanted, just because he fucking loved you more than anything. 

You felt a little bad that he was covering the trip, especially since your flight was booked much later than it should’ve been and ended up being quite pricey (not that he let you know the exact price anyway) but you could also tell that Harry was happy to pay for it. He showed genuine pleasure and excitement for it and there wasn’t a hint of him that felt apprehension or like you somehow owed him for the trip. He was happy that you were joining him, no matter the cost.

You used that happiness of his to try and not feel as guilty for the trip. When you told your friends about it they thought you were crazy for ever feeling guilty in the first place. Before you two even started sleeping together, you’d fantasise about having a rich man buy you nice things and take you wherever you wanted and now that it was actually happening, you felt anxious about it.

But you wanted to enjoy it and you obviously would when you were in the Italian sun with a spritz in one hand and an ice cream in the other… you just needed to give back a little. You had your eye on a nice shirt for him and already started researching restaurants to go to in Italy that you could treat him to. You promised yourself you’d take him to one fancy, romantic dinner and what better place than the home to pizza and gelato?

Harry’s eyes beamed literal hearts as he squeezed your hips and leaned in to kiss you. It was a little unexpected since Harry was very particular about his job and you two were in the middle of his office, but it was a good unexpected. It was gentle, innocent, a loving peck before he pulled back and smiled down at you.

“I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” You blushed, not really used to the amount of PDA you two were doing right now. 

“Come on.” He nudged, smirking at your shy reaction. “We’ll go eat in my office.” 

He let you walk slightly ahead of him but kept his hand on your lower back to guide you to the right place. Last time you were here you didn’t get inside his office so you had no idea where you were going.  

“Can’t believe you’re here. I missed you.” He murmured, shutting the door behind you two and then immediately grabbing your face to kiss you properly. A peck simply wasn’t enough. After the full-on week you two had, he had missed this. Missed you. He hated when things were complicated and spending time with you like a normal couple was his favourite thing in the world. 

“I missed you too.” You giggled, clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket while kissing him multiple times. He smiled into the kiss and kissed a few kisses down your jaw to your neck. A pretty little pant whimpered into his ear and that’s when he had to stop himself before he got too ahead of himself. 

“Come on, baby. Sit next to me.” He smiled, grabbing your bag from you and setting it down on his desk. “How’s your day been?” 

“Boring.” You groaned, watching him beeline to one of the arm chairs in front of his desk so he could drag it beside his wheely chair, “I finished one of my smaller assignments last night and today I worked on one of my final ones. It’s literally due next week and worth like 40% of my grade and I feel like I’ll never get it done in time. I’ve barely studied for my exams either and I just feel so shit. I’m over it.” You whined out the complaint, feeling like your head was going to explode.

You had so many things on your mind at once, it was hard to keept track of it all. There was so much left to do for your trip but you barely had any time for it all and you still needed to deep clean your apartment before you left. Most of your clothes were there, but you had so much at your parents’ too that you needed to go through and they didn’t even know about the trip yet. You felt like you were going to be in such a rush towards the end.

Luckily Harry had taken care of practically all the travel essentials, so all you needed to worry about was packing. It still felt like a mammoth of a task when you were swamped with everything else going on in your life. 

“I know it’s hard, baby but you’re doing so well,” Harry praised, pulling his nice chair out for you to sit down. “You’ve been working so hard and you’re so close,” he let you sit down before pushing the chair in for you before sitting down beside you, “You just have to stick it out a bit more. It’s only two weeks.” 

“I know.” You sighed, helping him to unpack the food you bought from your tote bag. “Everything’s happening so fast, I just feel so unprepared.”

“Well you’ve got me to help, okay? So just focus on your studies and I’ll help you with everything else. We’ve got time and all the important things are taken care of. I’ll help you clean your place and pack and whatever else you need. Don’t stress.” He assured you, giving you a comforting squeeze on your knee.

“Thank you,” You smiled, squeezing his chin to bring him in for a quick peck before you looked at the array of trays and small bites you grabbed to share with him. It was what you usually did when you went out to eat so you two could try a little bit of everything. “My mum called too…”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah… she was talking about you again. It’s all she talks about and she’s always asking if I’ve seen you recently. I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s jealous I see you more than her.” You laughed.

“I keep bumping into her on my morning runs more than usual. I have a feeling its on purpose.” Harry laughed in return.

“Yeah that sounds like her…” 

“And your dad?” He nudged your shoulder, “I haven’t seen him since we had dinner. Is he coming around to the idea of us yet?”

“He is. Sort of. I don’t know, Harry, he seems a bit distant towards me. We usually call every couple of days and he’s still doing it but it… feels different. I haven’t even told them about the trip and I don’t want to put it off but I feel like he’ll be really upset.” 

“You haven’t told them yet?” Harry blinked, “Y/n we spoke about this. You were meant to tell them over the weekend.” He sighed, almost like he was disappointed in you. You both agreed that you had to tell them sooner rather than later. You wanted to give your dad a few days to process your relationship before telling him because you couldn’t really leave it any longer than that. 

It was just shit timing. The trip was coming so fast and your parents found out about you two so close to when you were leaving. Way too close. 

“I know. I know.” You replied, groaning a little. “It’s just shit timing.”

“I know, y/n, and they might be upset about it but we leave in two weeks. You need to tell them.” He stressed. You hated when he spoke to you like that. It wasn’t rude or condescending in any way but you could tell he was a little annoyed about it. He had every right to be because this was something you had to do and you didn’t want to fight about it or start anything unnecessarily when you were in the wrong. 

You also just didn’t have the energy to deal with it.  

“I hate when you’re right. It’s annoying.” You sighed, trying to lighten the mood by laughing softly. Harry knew this was a conversation that didn’t end here, but he could sense your reluctance in it all. He was happy to entertain a small break from it, but it seriously was something that had to be dealt with. 

“Well I get it from my mum so if I’m annoying so is she.” Harry smirked, expertly picking up a piece of sashimi with his chopsticks before popping it into his mouth. 

“No, never! Anne is like a ray of sunshine. She can be right whenever she wants” 

“And I can’t ?” He laughed, “that seems unfair.”

Harry wasn’t sure why the sound of his mother’s name on your lips made his heart beat so goddamn fast, but he nearly dropped the sushi from his mouth at how casual and normal it was. He loved it. Adored it. He hoped that you two meeting in person would be as successful as it was via Zoom. 

Harry also hoped that her concerns for your relationship would disappear once you two were face to face. You’d have ample opportunity to spend time together on your trip and he hoped that it would solidify what you two had. The future you two had. 

Anne’s concerns were valid and Harry knew that it was something that would come up time and time again with everyone that met you. 

“She’s just so… young. She’s a gorgeous girl and so sweet, I can see why you like her but are you being realistic? I just don’t want you getting hurt, H,” Anne sighed through the phone, “Young women want to be free and I just don’t want you two to get a year, two years in and you’re ready to slow down while she’s just getting started. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.” 

“I love her, Mum and if anything her age has been better for me. I feel like I'm enjoying my life in a way that’s completely different from when I was single. I’m learning so many things and so is she. It hasn’t been easy by any means, but it’s working.” 

“Well, as long as you’re sure…”

“I am.” 

“I saw she’s wearing my necklace too,” She continued after a beat of silence, “She must mean a lot to you.”

“She does, mum. She means everything to me. I can’t explain it but I just know she’s my forever.”

“Well it’s nice to see you so happy. It’s been a long time since you’ve smiled so much. I missed it.”

“I missed it too.”

“You’re just saying it’s unfair because I’m on her side and not yours.” You grinned, breaking him free from his daze. 

“If this is going to be another Archie situation where my mother loves you more than me…” he waved his chopsticks towards you, making you giggle. 

“Oh it absolutely will be. I’ve been texting her y’know. We follow each other on Instagram now.” 

“You’re kidding.” He gawked, all wide eyed. 

“Nope. When she found out I was coming to England she was so excited.” 

“Yeah I’m sure. You’re her favourite and she’s only known you for a week.” Harry sighed dramatically, eliciting a little shove of his arm. He grinned and squished your face to draw you in for a kiss, loving the way he could taste and feel every emotion you two were feeling in that moment. Words could lie but a kiss never could. 

“I’m serious though, y/n...” He murmured against your lips before pulling away while keeping his hand on your jaw. His thumb brushed against your cheek, caressing your soft skin. “You need to tell them tonight.”

“I’m scared.” You whispered. “I’m going either way, obviously, but I’m so worried they’ll be really upset with me. You know I hate upsetting them.” 

“I know baby, I get it.” Harry dropped his hand from your cheek and relaxed back to his chair. “The timing is shit and I know if this trip was in a couple of months it would be easier for them to handle, but this is your life, y/n. We’ve done nothing wrong by going on a trip and I’m sure if they can accept our relationship, they can deal with a holiday. You’re an adult and so am I.”

“Maybe you’re right...”  

“Baby all we did was fall in love.” He sensed your apprehension and wanted to try and convince you otherwise. He tipped your chin towards him so you were looking at him before grabbing both of your hands in his. “Your dad might not be happy with us dating or going overseas or any of it but I can make him understand. I know deep down that all he wants is for you to be happy and… I can prove that to him. You’re important to me, y/n. The most important person in my life.” He reached out to fiddle with the little pearls around your neck. Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling all kinds of nervous at his words. “If I were a father, all I’d want for my little girl is to know she was being loved and cared for. That she’s happy. No matter who she’s dating.” 

Harry wasn’t sure where it came from, putting himself in the role of a father. He could’ve phrased it in a different way, in any other way and yet it felt so right to imagine himself like that. Barely three months into being in a relationship with you and he somehow felt different about everything. 

It scared the hell out of him. 

“I am happy. I am.” Your eyes softened, glossing over ever so slightly. You squeezed his hand in both of yours,. “And I know you’re right. I just want us to skip to the good part where we’re together with our families, y’know. I loved meeting your mum and even just having dinner with you and my parents was amazing… before I opened my mouth.” You laughed softly but it was over before it even started because you just found yourself overcome with so much emotion. Through everything, Harry never failed to know what to say or how to make you feel better. It sometimes felt like he had a read on you before you even knew what you were feeling. “I just want us to be happy.” You whispered, reaching up to cup his face, “I love you so much Harry. I’ve never felt like this, ever. You’re my person. I want everyone to know that.”

You’re my person. 

You’re. My. Person. 

Harry repeated the phrase in his mind over and over, nearly bursting at the seams with how much love he felt towards you. You were his person too. Through and through. From the moment he met you he just knew there was something different about you which is why he was always drawn to you. And now he had the words for it. 

You were his person. 

Harry cupped your face and pulled you in for a deep kiss, one that expressed every single emotion he felt for you. He could taste the sushi and soy sauce on your lips but he couldn’t care less. He was happy and the boring day he was having suddenly turned into the best day. 

“You’re my person too.” He breathed, panting slightly from how long the kiss had gone. “Have been from the moment I met you. I just didn’t know it.” 

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. There was something about Harry being romantic and professing his affection that got you so unbelievably riled up, you couldn’t contain it. You couldn’t switch it off and while you could pretend it wasn’t happening or ignore the fact you already had a heartbeat between your legs, you didn’t want to.

Things were left so unfinished the other night and you always did wonder what it would be like to be bent over Harry’s desk…

“Harry I mean this so seriously, if you keep talking like that….” You breathed, watching the way his heart-eyes heated up and turned into something dark and smoldering. 

“What?” He grinned, cocking his head. “If I keep talking like that ‘what’?”

He was teasing you, trying to coax you into admitting what he already knew you wanted. 

“I won’t be able to stop myself…”

“Then don’t” Harry smirked, letting one hand slide down to loop around your neck so he could pull you in to kiss him again. You whimpered softly into his mouth, cupping his jaw while practically melting into his touch. Your other hand fell to his thigh, squeezing it in your palm while your mouths molded together in a kiss so intense your body was floating.

Were you really going to have sex right here? 

Yeah. Fuck it.

 “Baby.” He groaned against your mouth, forcing himself to pull away from you. Your chest was rising and falling quickly and all he wanted to do was get a handful of your breasts. To tug at your pebbled nipples that he could see so fucking clearly due to the soft cups of the bra you were wearing. At this point he knew exactIy what your tits looked like in all different types of bras. 

Stifling back a moan, he slid his hand back up to cup your cheek while running his thumb over your mouth. Your lips were swollen, all pink and pretty and so delicious it was almost painful to not dive back in and kiss you. “We need to stop if you don’t want things to go further.” 

“Who says I don’t want things to go further?” you breathed, grabbing onto his spare hand to bring it up to your chest. Your hand pressed over his until he squeezed a good handful of your breast, running his finger over your hard nipple. Shit. “Please.” 

“Go lock the door.” He murmured, standing up quickly out of his chair while shrugging off his suit jacket. 

You beelined to the door, thankful for the big oak doors Harry’s position afforded him. It didn’t mean you had total privacy. Walls were thin and he had huge glass windows on one side of the office. Anyone could see you two and someone could most definitely hear you.

Which is why you had to be quiet and quick. 

Harry met you halfway, crossing the floor in three quick strides to grab your face and kiss you again. Everything was happening so quickly. You were unbuttoning his pants and pulling his dress shirt out of his pants while he guided you backwards towards the small couch he had against one wall. Harry would’ve liked to bend you over his desk, but it was covered in your uneaten sushi and he had a feeling both of you would be starving after your quick fuck.

He almost couldn’t believe it was happening until he remembered all the moments you two practiced exhibitionism before. In his pool, his car and on the boat during your weekend away. He had no doubt it would happen again, most likely at Pleasing where you two could really explore all the things you wanted to. 

Harry sat back on the couch, keeping your mouths connected while he undid your jeans button and zipper. It was such an effort wearing jeans and you suddenly regretted wearing pants at all. You quickly made a mental note to wear something easier to remove if you were ever visiting Harry for ‘lunch’ again.

“Why did I have to wear jeans?” You groaned, helping him shove them down your legs to quicken the process before you stepped out of them. 

“Don’t wear pants next time.” He breathed, grabbing the back of your thighs to guide you down to straddle him. 

“I won’t.” You agreed desperately, threading your fingers through his hair while kissing him to try and keep yourself quiet. You could feel the hard length of his cock the moment you straddled him, all long and thick. You could hardly wait to get him inside you, not when he had said such romantic things and looked so fucking hot in his suit.

There was something so sexy about his workwear and now that you were straddling him in nothing but your sneakers, underwear and t shirt and he was still practically fully dressed… it had never been hotter. 

“You’re so hard.” You murmured, tilting your head back to gasp as he grinded your pussy against his cock. 

His fingers were dug so hard into your ass you knew you’d be feeling the touch for days. He’d probably come over straight from work and fuck you again, making it known how hot he finds the fresh bruises on your pretty skin. Then he’d take nice care of you and massage your skin, rub cream into the marks and kiss you everywhere until you were reduced to a sleepy mess. 

“And you’re so wet. Did telling you I love you really turn you on this much?” Harry smirked, nipping at your neck. He tucked his work pants down to his thighs when he sat down on the couch so you wouldn’t make a mess of them and he was glad he did so. You were soaked. A sticky mess that had fully soaked through both your underwear and his until his cock felt warm with your arousal. 

“I like to be romanced.” You smiled, nipping at his bottom lip. “Being sentimental gets me wet, what can I say?”

“Yeah? Maybe I need to do it more often then.” He murmured, pushing your t shirt up until it bunched over your tits. He cupped one of them, keeping firm eye contact with you while running his thumb over your nipple until he pushed the thin lace material of your bra down to expose it. “Tell you how my heart skips a beat when I see you. How fairies are born when you laugh?”

He was only teasing, but there was nothing teasing about the way he wrapped his mouth around your nipple and sucked, tugging at it between his teeth until you were holding back a loud moan. That was torture. “You’re ridiculous.” 

“Am I? You’re saying that you don’t feel your pretty cunt flutter when I tell you how my life would be incomplete without you?” He cocked his head, watching the way your eyes glazed over as he continued grinding you over his dick. You could already feel that tingle in your belly and it had barely been two minutes of grinding on him. “Or would you prefer I tell you how badly I need to pump you full of my cum? How you’re a needy little slut for begging me to fuck you right here when anyone could walk in on us?”

And he felt it. He felt the way you clenched against him. How the heartbeat between your legs increased at the first few words of degradation.

“That I love you more for it…” He had this shit eating grin on his face and was happy to nip at your nipple and grind your clit against him until you were a poor tense little thing on top of him. “That did it, didn’t it, baby?”

“I need your cock. Please.” You whispered, dragging his head from your breast upwards so you could kiss him again. He smirked into your mouth and lifted your hips off him, making you rest on your knees instead of his lap so he could untuck his cock from his briefs. 

The moment his cock was free he dragged you back down and dipped his fingers between your bodies to nudge your underwear to the side so he had free access to you. “Y’want my fingers?” He offered, knowing it would sting to take him with no prep. Harry knew you liked that, but he also couldn’t assume it’s what you wanted.

The haste shake of your head was all he needed to guide his cock to your entrance, making sure to muffle your quiet whimper by his own mouth while letting you take lead and drop down at your own pace. You had no issues being quiet by yourself. You could make yourself cum dozens of times and barely moan so no one would hear and yet the second you were with Harry all you wanted to do was make noise.

Maybe it was because he always encouraged it. That he loved the way you moaned his name and screamed for him. Or maybe it was because no vibrator or dildo could compare to the feeling of his hard cock splitting you open. The way his veins felt going inside you and how it was attached to the hottest man on the planet.

Your vibrator didn’t wrap its arms around you and your dildo certainly didn’t kiss you filthily and grab your ass to encourage you to take it. They didn’t grab your hips and bounce you or wrap their mouths around your nipples to deliver that bite of pain Harry knew would get you off quicker. 

Because this was a quickie and the moment you had his entire cock deep inside you Harry was pulling out all the tricks to get you to finish quicker. He had no issues orgasming fast, nor did he have issues holding himself back to make it last longer. But you… he needed you to finish first when he was inside you and that wouldn’t change just because you two were having a quickie.

“Shit. Shit, Harry.” You gasped, rocking your hips back and forth to grind his cock against your g-spot. With every back and forth movement, your clit rubbed against the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock, the material of his boxers adding extra friction that hit you so much harder than usual. 

“I know. I know. Being so good for me. Y’ride me so fucking well, baby.” He whispered, fisting the hair at the back of your head to kiss you again. 

It was all gasps and slapping skin and sloppy kisses that were way too loud. If anyone came close to the door they’d know exactly what you were doing but neither of you seemed to care. You were both just trying to reach your highs while keeping your moans to a minimum. 

What never stopped though was his filthy fucking dirty talk. Right in your ear when he kissed your neck and rumbled into your mouth when your lips brushed together while you two tried to catch your breaths. It was why you finished so fast. Why your first orgasm tumbled over you barely two minutes into riding him, then a second under two minutes after. Everything about the situation was so hot and you were so beyond turned on it felt easy for your body to respond to every touch and every word. Every utter of I love you.

You severely underestimated the ability for those three little words to cause so much love and so much arousal all at once. 

“You’re unbelievable.” Harry breathed out a laugh while tucking himself back into his boxers, watching you hastily pull your jeans back on.

“Me? You’re the one telling me fairies are born when I laugh. In the middle of sex too.” You laughed, running your fingers through your hair. 

“I wasn’t exactly lying.” He flirted, grabbing your chin with a cheesy smile before he kissed you. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You repeated earnestly. 

“Did that make you wet?” He asked, already expecting the roll of your eyes. 

“You’re an idiot. Now sit back down, I’m going to go pee and clean up quickly.” You poked his chest and went to grab your phone then walked to the door.

“Yes, ma’am.” He mock saluted, returning in his chair by the time you unlocked the office door. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”

“Yeah. We passed it on the way to your office. Now don’t eat everything.”

“You better hurry up then.” He teased, shoving a piece of a california roll into his mouth. You rolled your eyes again and left his office, shutting the door behind you on your way out. 

Harry’s office was the last door at the end of a hallway. There were a few closed offices on the way, then the bathrooms were closest to the waiting area. It was a short walk, barely 20m between you and your destination which was a blessing considering the cold cum slowly soaking into your undewear. A quick wipe with a tissue wasn’t enough with the amount of cum he filled you with. Which was why it never occurred to you that you’d run into anyone you knew. 

You knew there was a possibility, given Harry worked with his friends and… Ethan, but it just didn’t cross your mind because they all worked in different areas and you were a little preoccupied with the mess between your legs. Their jobs overlapped but the only reason they spent so much time together was because they were friends. Otherwise the overlaps could be handled by a third party. 

Wednesday’s were Harry’s meeting heavy days and often the day he chose to work at home. They were usually via zoom anyway which is why you chose today to come visit him. He’d be busy with meetings and you booked a slot. You knew he was avoiding any work with Ethan and when it couldn’t be avoided, Harry would get someone else to deal with it. 

As bad as it sounded… you were just trying to forget about it all. Or at the very least deal with what happened without dwelling on it. You had shut it out of your mind, ignoring the big part of you that wanted him to pay for what he did. You knew it was a bad coping mechanism but it was better than dwelling on the fact that you couldn’t get him on any charges. With the way he did everything there was no paper trail or evidence so you couldn’t exactly do anything without it being a he-say, she-say situation. 

You trusted that Harry was still devising a way to get him out of your lives for good, but for now you were just focusing on working on your relationship supporting him when he had a particularly rough Ethan day. It wasn’t a long term solution by any means, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it. You had the pictures and he was leaving you alone, that was good enough. 

So when you were distracted replying to a message on your phone and a body was distracted by a folder in their hand, you didn’t see them until your shoulders bumped. 

“Oh my god, I’m so so-” The words got caught in your throat, eyes widening at the sight of Ethan in front of you.

“No worries babe, should’ve looked where I was-” he replied on autopilot until he actually looked at you and an arrogant pig-like expression morphed onto his face. “Well if it isn’t little y/n. What brings you here?”

In a split second time seemed to freeze. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t hear. Suddenly the world around you was blurring into fuzzy shapes and black dots. All you could think about was the intimate photos he had of you for weeks. How he had a list of people with copies, most who probably saw them and how he probably got off to them and got off on the fact that Harry was reduced to nothing and had to pay thousands of dollars just to protect you. To get you back. 

You weren’t even sure Ethan knew that you and Harry were together, but you knew damn well he revelled in the fact you two had to break up. That he ruined your relationship. 

But you couldn’t say any of that even if you wanted to because the world was starting to close around you and you felt this pressure on your chest that became suffocating. It was like air ceased to exist and you feared that if you didn’t get away from him you’d die on the ground right at his feet. 

You said nothing and ran past him, ignoring his confused ‘what the fuck?’ that you somehow felt rattling in every corner of your brain. Stumbling, you shoved your way into the women’s bathroom and headed straight to a stall so you could sit down. 

You barely made it, collapsing onto the closed toilet seat so you wouldn’t pass out. Your whole body was trembling and it was like you were burning from the inside while simultaneously freezing all over. You had never experienced anything like it and even though you were trying to control your breathing, trying so fucking hard, nothing was working. 

With every breath the air became thinner, every tremble you sweat harder. All you could think about was your naked body being in the hands of a stranger, someone who had no permission or right and willingly paid to view you in your most vulnerable state. You couldn’t get it out of your head or your heart or your body. 

You were panicking. 

And then you felt it, a brief moment of fresh air and crystal clear vision before your lungs closed again. There was a commotion outside the bathroom, two muffled voices that made no sense to you. Then a second later the door was slamming open and you recognised the voice of your lover in his own panic. 

“Y/n? Baby where are you?” 

You tried to open your mouth and yell out to him but all that came out was a muffled gasp. It didn’t matter whether you yelled to him or not though because he was slamming each stall door open until he found you and when he did he fell to his knees in front of you, right on the dirty bathroom floor. But he didn’t care, not one fucking bit when you were sitting on the toilet looking like you were about to die. 

“Oh god, baby. Look at me. Just look at me, okay?” He soothed, cupping your face to try and get your eyes to focus on him. 

He knew exactly what was happening. He didn’t know why or how exactly but he figured it had something to do with the bastard he passed on the way to find you. Right now though, none of that mattered. Not when you were having a full blown panic attack right in front of him for the first time in your life. You must’ve been so scared and being scared and panicked was only going to make it worse. He knew that. 

“Sharon, I need water.” He called over his shoulder. “And a towel please and you need to make sure no one comes in here, okay?” 

You heard her muffled reply before he was looking right at you again. “Look at me, y/n. Come on.” He encouraged, running his thumbs over your cheeks. You finally looked at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Good girl. That’s it. It’s okay. It’s okay, y/n. You’re safe and nothings going to happen to you, okay? I’m right here.” Shit. “I’m right here.”

“It’s… I can’t-I can’t breathe.” You whimpered, clawing at your own chest to articulate how horrible you were feeling. 

“I know. I know but it’s okay. You’re okay.” His voice was so calm, so steady. You appreciated that. He gently took your hands in his so you wouldn’t hurt yourself and cradled them so his chest. Using one to keep them there, he used the other to grab the back of your neck gently to pull you forward so your foreheads were pressed together. “Just breathe with me, okay? Try and match my breathing.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” You protested, closing your eyes while a pitiful whimper slipped in the small space separating your mouths. You panted desperately, breathing through your small cries while hugging onto his body in hopes that his warmth and calm presence would help you. 

“I know it’s hard, but you can do it. Just try, baby. You can do it.” He was trying to encourage you and stay calm. The last thing you needed was feeling any stress or panic from him because that would just make the entire situation worse. But god it was so fucking hard. Feeling your body tremble and watching your pretty face in so much pain was horrible. But he had to stay strong and he just wanted to get you better so he could take you home. It was his only concern. 

“Deep breath in, y/n. In… out…” 

Harry closed his eyes for a single moment, collecting himself before opening them again to watch you while he guided your breathing again. He kept his tone soft and even, guiding you through it until you seemed to be breathing easier. Your trembling started to cease and you were no longer a stiff board in his arms. You were able to relax into his touch, slumping against him with your forehead on his shirt. 

“That’s it. You did so well, baby. Love you so much.” He soothed, letting his lips brush against your head while he ran his hands over your back.

You didn’t respond, but he took how pliant you were becoming in his arms as a good sign. The bathroom door swung open a moment later and Sharon was rushing in with a plastic cup of water and a damp hand towel. She passed them to Harry and wordlessly left once Harry thanked her to guard the door to give you two some privacy. 

“Here…” Harry nudged your chin, “Can you drink this?” He held your chin in a gentle grip, feeling like his heart was going to shatter just at the sight of your teary eyes and puffy cheeks. You grabbed the cup from him and started to take shaky sips from it, closing your eyes when he grabbed the damp towel to dab your face. 

The two of you remained like that for a while. You weren’t exactly sure how long. Harry just kept rubbing your back and using the cool temperature of the towel to try and calm your splotchy skin. You didn’t say anything and neither did Harry, but even if you wanted to, you had nothing to say. Your mind was blank and if anything… all you wanted to do was go home.

You had never felt so emotionally drained and numb all at the same time. It was like all your compartmentalisation and bad coping skills had suddenly given way and let everything in all at once. There was so much going on in your brain that it all cancelled each other out until you felt absolutely nothing but pure exhaustion and… anger. You were tired and angry and numb and everything was so fucking confusing you didn’t know what was what, just that you were over it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked softly, speaking the first words for what felt like an hour. You weren’t sure why it jarred you so much to hear him ask that but you took that as a sign that you needed to go home. You didn’t want to be in this office any longer than you had to be and as bad as it was… you didn’t want to be near Harry either. 

You went from needing him and feeling like his presence and his calm was the only way you could breathe to feeling suffocated just by being near him. You didn’t understand it when it wasn’t his fault but somehow felt like he was the one to blame. It was unfair.

It was also unfair to have photos taken of you in your most vulnerable state then be threatened with them. It was unfair to have your boyfriend work with the man who did that to you and suffer no consequences for his actions. Even if Harry did have a plan, you just didn’t fucking understand how he could stand being in the same building as him. 

The last thing you wanted was saying something you’d regret because your mind wasn’t clear so it felt like the right decision to go home by yourself, even if you already knew Harry would want to drive you and make sure you got home alright. 

“No… um, no I don’t think so.” You shook your head and pressed your hand to the wall of the stall to help you stand up. Your legs were cramped and shaky from being sat down for so long and the rest of you felt like you had a 50kg weight tied to every muscle in your body.  

Harry’s brows furrowed, and he quickly stood up as well. There was a switch in your demeanor that he didn’t like. A distant, almost… cold shift that he had only seen in the very beginning of your relationship when he fucked everything up. But he hadn’t done anything so to see you become so withdrawn sent alarm bells ringing everywhere. 

“That’s okay, you don’t… you don’t have to.” Harry exhaled a deep breath and squeezed the towel in his hand, “I know it’s hard but it is good to talk about it. I’m here when you’re ready.”

“Thank you.” You smiled softly, crushing the plastic cup in your hand. The sound echoed around the bathroom and it felt entirely too loud for how intense the situation was. 

Harry attempted to reach out and give you a comforting squeeze on your arm but was only met with rejection when you shifted your shoulder back to avoid it. You could see the flash of hurt cross his eyes and the way his brows knitted even closer together, but he didn’t dare comment on it. Harry knew how sensitive someone could be after a panic attack so he tried to not take it personally and viewed it as a mistake on his behalf.

But you let him hold you for what felt like forever. You just collapsed in his arms until you could breathe again… still, he had gone through panic attacks and he knew that everyone reacted differently. You could come out of it in the worst mental state and the last thing he wanted was giving you too much space and something happening because of it. 

“I’m just going to wash my hands.” The moment you slid past him and out of the stall, you immediately felt a sense of relief from not being so confined anymore. You scratched at your chest a little while watching him join you at the basin beside you to wash his hands as well.

“I’ll drive you home, y/n. I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Harry spoke softly, looking directly at you while scrubbing his hands with the soap. 

“I actually think it’s better if I am… alone.” You cleared your throat and walked to the paper towel dispenser to dry your hands. Your back was towards him but you could feel his stare on your back. “I parked at the station so the train will be fine. I think I just need some time alone, if that’s okay?”

“Are you sure? You’ve never had a panic attack before, y/n. I don’t really feel comfortable leaving you all by yourself. At least let me drive you.” Harry offered, trying to be encouraging without too pushy. But it was really fucking hard because every moment you withdrew from him was another moment he felt himself start to panic at what was going on with you. He had no idea what was running through your head and there was no way for him to find out unless you told him yourself.

“I’m fine, Harry. Really.” You sighed, turning around to face him. He looked so… sad. Helpless almost. “I just need to walk it off, okay?” 

With a firm nod, Harry reluctantly backed down. It was the last thing on the entire planet that he wanted but what choice did he have?

“Okay. Just…” he inhaled a ragged breath and stepped towards you. Harry wanted to touch you so badly, even just a pinky looped to yours but he stopped himself just before his fingers grazed the back of your hand. “Let me walk you out at least. Please.”

Even though your chest was still clammy, your lungs didn’t feel like they were at full capacity yet and you just didn’t want him to walk you anywhere, you still agreed. He had done so much for you, more than you felt like you deserved. The least you could do was let him walk you out the building. 

The walk to get your things and go downstairs was painfully awkward. Thankfully Sharon had warded off the bathroom and hallway so there was no one lingering around, including Ethan but that did very little to dispel how uncomfortable you were. It hadn’t felt like this for months and there wasn’t a single moment since you two started dating where you didn’t want to be around him.

It was a sick feeling, one that just mixed in with your need to go home and die in your bed. Unfortunately, you knew that once you had a shower and cried some more, you’d be pushing it all away again to focus on your assignment. It was cruel. 

“Text me when you get home?” Harry asked, voice full of hope. He tucked his hands in his pockets as you adjusted your tote bag on your shoulder. The street was full and busy of the usual lunch rush, all the corporate men and women off to buy an overpriced sandwich or go to their favourite hole-in-a-wall restaurant for takeaway. 

You two could’ve been going to your favourite japanese cafe for a coffee right now to walk off your food comas, but instead your nice romantic lunch had turned into something ugly. It felt like it was all your fault and yet somehow your brain was blaming Harry. 

Again, even if you didn’t want to agree, you did. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, cool. Thank you?” Harry wasn’t sure what to do or say. He was at a loss.

There was nothing about this situation that felt normal or even was normal. He didn’t feel like he could kiss you or even hug you goodbye. It felt like the end of an awkward first date where the polite thing to do was hug goodbye even if neither party wanted to. But Harry did want to. He wanted to follow you right now to make sure you got home okay. That you were okay. 

“Bye Harry.” You opted to make the painful goodbye, feeling sick to your stomach at the entire day. You felt dirty and sticky and the complete normalcy of everyone around you just going about their day was kiling you a little bit inside. 

“Right… um, okay. Goodbye, y/n. Thank you for lunch.” 

It was formal and ugly and all you could do in response was mutter another goodbye and flash him the saddest most pitiful smile you could muster before turning around to walk in the direction of the closest train station. 

And just like that, Harry watched you walk away. 

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[greenandsorrow]

IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic

-> For technical reasons (for the plot to continue plotting), this chap focuses mostly on the past! Another thing... I appreciate your feedback and comments more than you realise, so don't hesitate to interact with my fics 🥺❣️

-> It's giving Stockholm Syndrome, I'm aware, but that's why it's called fanFICTION.

-> I think it's funny how each chapter turns out to be longer than the last. I'm getting hooked to my own writing I guess.

-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.

Listen to: Ilomilo by Billie Eilish

~ 3 ~

Pennywise's POV 🎈

For five long years he has stayed awake, stalking the streets of Derry... waiting. Pennywise's usual cycle -hibernating after a killing and terrorizing spree- has been disrupted. This time, something -someone- kept him from descending to the deep slumber he usually craves.

He can't fully understand it, but it's because of you -the spark, the tug of connection he isn't familiar with. He's hunted countless children without a second thought. But with you... When he had expected you to cower and break, instead, you had resisted, you had played his twisted games and stared back at him without losing your soul. You had made him so curious. And that curiosity has gnawed at him enough to eat away at his rest, putting him in a sort of restless trance.

Every time he tries to slip beneath the Earth and to return to the darkness he came from, he feels a pull, a shudder that makes him cling to the surface for just a little more, for just another silly, little, stupid, meek year.

But as the years have been slipping by, something else has shifted in him as well -a subtle thing that feels almost like restraint. He still lurks in the shadows, his instincts are still telling him to frighten and to feed… but each time he sees you, that impulse falters. Instead of scaring you, he finds himself watching, almost guarding you from afar.

It feels a twinge of protectiveness -an urge that should definitely not exist in a creature made to hunt and devour. It doesn't get it, doesn't know why It lingers to ensure no danger befalls you, before It vanishes for the usual twenty-seven years. Almost as though, Pennywise the Clown is bound to you by something unexplainable, something that's kept him from retreating to sleep.

And It hates it.

The longer Pennywise watches, the more he wishes he didn't feel this way. But when he does try to stir up the familiar darkness within his core, it's dulled and quieted. All he knows is that his hunger has been overpowered by something else, something… protective.

And this fact is as unnatural as it is inappropriate, for no other than The Eater of Worlds.

1979 Derry, Maine

"Let's play another game..! I... There is... There's one we haven't played!"

The door creaked open and the clown stepped inside with a look you had never seen before on him. He wasn't smiling, wasn't performing... he was serious, unsettlingly so. A reminder that Pennywise wasn't -and isn't- a real clown, not in the way he pretends to be. Drool slipped from his red lips, glistening in the early morning light filtering through a crooked and badly shut window. He had probably just interrupted his breakfast -maybe to see you- and the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

"What kind of game?" his voice rumbled low, sending a chill across your skin. Your stomach tightened and you swallowed down the bile that rose. His piercing, yellow gaze left you feeling exposed.

You struggled to think of something, anything that could buy you more time. You had to say something, or else he would just get pissed and maybe have you for breakfast, instead of the one he was -so rudely- interrupted from.

"The first one to… If I can name one friend before you do, I get to leave. If you win… You get to do whatever you want with me." You knew you were cornered, but the words had come out anyway.

A strange look flickered across his face.

"What's your name?"

You frowned at what sounded like an absurd thing to ask out of the blue. "Y/n."

He giggled.

"Oh really?! And I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown! Now we've both properly introduced ourselves... We can be friends!!!"

The point of the game was for you to win... but he just had to be a smartass.

"WE CAN'T- CAN'T BE FRIENDS!"

Pennywise pouted, almost like a child who's just been told no. You could see the contradiction in him as he considered your words -a clown who loves games, whose eyes practically gleam with excitement... and yet a predator who's always calculating, always one step ahead, keeping his prey exactly where he wants it. He knew you had just tried to outsmart him, yet he stepped closer, drawn in by the idea of another game. Your captor knew way more about you than you had realized -he had been watching you long before he had decided to 'kidnap' you.

Actually, your desperate answer made him leave his spot by the doorframe and advance toward you, crouching down to your eye level. You were paralyzed in fear he could probably smell. Even while holding your breath, you could feel his own on your face... It smelled like a butcher's shop.

"Don't. Shout. At. Me."

You nodded.

His drool was still glistening.

"You're not leaving either."

Another nod.

Then, he left the room.

Later, you'd realize he had let you have your way with that idiotic game purely out of boredom -a way to break up the ancient routine It'd followed since the beginning of time. But in that moment, you were just trying to survive.

What happened next is clouded in fragments, your memory blurred by fear -or maybe it's nostalgia. Somehow, over time, you became something to him. Indeed... a friend... of sorts.

As more days passed, you dared to start speaking more freely, filling the silence between you. You'd mention that you were cold, or hungry and he would tilt his head in that curious way of his. The next day, a bag of chips might appear on the bed. Once, you coughed, your throat parched. Fortunately, you managed to murmur "water". A few hours later, there it was -water in a bowl.

You found your book -Alice in Wonderland- left in a corner of the room. You read to him, each word trembling from your lips but never letting your voice falter fully. Pennywise would sit at the edge of the bed, sometimes even curling up like a cat -making you question if he had any bones-, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. You were scared that when you finished reading the book, your life would end along with Alice's story.

But it didn't.

Still, sometimes you made desperate attempts to escape, bolting to the door. But he'd catch you with a taunting grin.

"Tag, you're it!" he'd chuckle, pinning you effortlessly. "Winner gets a prize!" he'd mock, as if the only reward he needed was to see your defeated face. But despite the mocking, the punishing appearances of the enormous cockroach stopped.

Even his gaze softened over time, slipping from the predator's yellow stare to an electric blue. The games also shifted -grew less cruel- and with them, so did he. He no longer seemed intent on hurting you and instead, observed you with a cautious neutrality.

Each day It brought you random bowls of food and water -most likely stolen from unsuspecting housewives... And sometimes, It would linger just outside the door, listening to your voice as you read to yourself.

One evening, you found yourself in the backyard, gazing up at a lilac sky. He had taken you there -unbeknownst to you- because he had brought a little snack inside and didn't want that to scare you.

You missed your old life with a pang that made your throat burn, a feeling so deep you didn't even notice him approaching. Without thinking, you pressed yourself into the clown's chest, burying your face against his ruffled collar. His strange scent -a mix of damp earth and something much older- washed over you and for the first time, you felt… safe with him.

He didn't hug you back, didn't mimic the gesture, but his voice murmured strange words about humans, their fragile nature and then the usual pet name he would call you: "little one".

It was then that you realized -he wouldn't hurt you. Not now. Not after all this time. But the realization broke something in you, a dam holding back all the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface.

"Y- You won. You won!" you stammered, choking back tears. "I'm your friend! Kill me now!"

You collapsed to your knees and he watched -bewildered- as tears streamed down your face. For a moment, he just stood there and watched you cry. Then, tentatively, he reached out in an almost inquisitive manner, to catch a tear with a long, white finger and taste it. He seemed to pause, reflecting on something only he could understand.

And then on another day, another attempt to escape. You had found a tiny window in the basement and tried to squeeze through it. But he noticed, his monstrous form scraping against the window's frame, shattering the glass in a frenzy to reach you.

When you saw the shards cutting into his skin... You froze, guilt flooding over you. You returned to his side while murmuring apologies, your hands trembling as you pulled the glass from his wounds, piece by piece.

He didn't attack you -just stared at you with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine. You knew in that moment, that you had crossed a line, that there was something between you that shouldn't have been there -because you could've left but didn't and because he could've killed you but didn't either.

When you finished pulling out the glass pieces, he was pouting at you. "Meanie..." he said and stuck his tongue out.

In the days that followed, Pennywise grew quieter. He watched you differently, as if seeing you with new eyes -ones that held a warmth you'd never expected. And in a way, it made you feel… comfortable. Comfortable enough that one day, you dared to reach out, brushing a hand along his white cheek.

He froze under your touch, as if unsure how to react -his usually fierce, yellow eyes softening to that strange blue. A low sound rumbled from him -somewhere between a purr and a growl- and he tilted his head, pressing into your hand like a cat, seeming almost… content.

But that wasn't right. He wasn't human and he definitely wasn't a pet. It was something ancient and boundless... and yet here It was, in its favorite form, accepting your touch and even starting to crave it. You pulled your hand away and his eyes opened, watching you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate.

Time continued to flow onward.

You were now given strange meals in even stranger containers -a cracked bowl, a chipped mug, even a metal dish that you could have sworn was meant for a dog! He didn't seem to understand the details of human routines, didn't quite grasp what you needed beyond food and water. Yet he tried, even if it were in ways that felt utterly alien.

One evening, just as the sun began to dip, you asked if you could go outside again. You hadn't meant it as a real question, but in the morning, you found the door to the backyard unlocked.

You didn't dare leave the property, but you enjoyed how the air was fresh and the grass was soft and the sky a little cloudy. You stayed out until evening came.

Pennywise watched you from a distance, the colors of the twilight reflecting in his eyes, giving him an almost haunting beauty. He joined you, sitting in the overgrown grass... murmuring things in a language that sounded both ancient and musical, like whispers from an old spell.

In the quiet, you leaned against him, letting the stillness speak for you both. And though he didn't return the gesture, just like last time, he didn't pull away either. You looked up at the stars, feeling that deep ache for home... He patted your head in a comforting manner... and in that moment you could almost believe he was a friend.

You were just a kid, but even with your naivety, deep down you knew the truth -he was a monster that had killed before and would kill again. Yet for now, he seemed content with your presence, more curious than threatening. He tilted his head, watching you with softness in his gaze, as if pondering the mystery of your existence.

Somewhere in your heart, you felt the shift. Pennywise, the monster, had grown attached to you. And you… well, you couldn't deny the attachment had become mutual.

The days blurred together even more after that, filled with silly games, with quiet moments and fragments of a bond you could neither define nor understand.

And yet, even as you tried to push away the thought, you feared that someday he might wake up and no longer see you as friend, or even as a curiosity, but as something he was hungry for once more. Still, in the quiet of the night it felt like a small, tragic eternity -two beings from worlds apart, drawn together and held by something both tender and terrifying.

The last days in the house at Neibolt St were the strangest. Pennywise grew quiet, almost pensive, as if some hidden clock was winding down inside him. You noticed how his smiles and giggles were fading, as if the game he'd once delighted in was losing its thrill. Sometimes, he would simply watch you with an unreadable expression, his eyes that odd, bright blue that almost felt... sad.

You felt a pang of sympathy for him. For all his power and for all his malevolence, he was still somehow... alone. You had felt it in those strange moments when -almost wistfully- he'd listen to you talk and read.

The last night felt different, filled with an air of finality.

As you laid on your creaky bed, you noticed him standing in the corner of the room, like some sort of sleep paralysis demon. He was staring at you with an intensity that used to scare you three months ago. You felt the impulse to speak, but you knew he wouldn't respond. Instead, you held his gaze, feeling a strange sense of sorrow settle over you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too soft to hear.

"Little one, when you leave…will you forget about me?"

The question caught you off guard and you didn't know how to answer. You wanted to tell him that you wouldn't, that everything you'd been through would be impossible to forget. But Pennywise knew that memories could fade, that as you grew older, the edges of this nightmare would blur.

You just stared at him, searching for the right words.

His eyes held a strange depth, a rawness you hadn't seen before. But he didn't wait for your answer. He simply turned, drifting back into the shadows as he whispered...

"The game isn't over."

And as he vanished, you were left in the cold darkness, with the silence pressing down around you like a final embrace. You clutched your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of those words settle heavily in your heart. You knew that even if you did forget him one day, some part of him would linger -an echo in the back of your mind, a memory that would never truly die.

That night, as sleep began to take you, you imagined him in the backyard... looking up at the stars and wondering if you'd remember.

It really felt like something precious had been taken away from you too early.

The next morning, you woke up in your own bed, in your home in Witchham Street.

For a moment you thought you'd died... Εveryone around you acted as though you'd never disappeared, as if those harrowing months at Neibolt hadn't happened at all. But there was one particular detail that hinted otherwise... A red balloon, floating silently at the edge of your bed.

That morning, you also got your period for the first time.

Stepping outside, the daylight was so bright and so warm, a stark contrast to the darkness you'd lived in for weeks. You squinted at the light, feeling almost as though you'd stepped into another world. It was hard to believe that just the night before, you had been in his arms -you had been seeking comfort from the monster who had held you captive.

Part of you seriously considered whether it had all been just a dream. Still, for days, you felt his absence like a missing heartbeat.

The world around you seemed much louder and the colors almost too vivid. Sometimes, you'd catch yourself looking for him in the shadows, half expecting to see his shape looming in the corners of your room.

At night you'd lie awake, thinking of his strange question...

"When you leave… will you forget me?"

You didn't know how to answer, even to yourself.

As much as you wanted to return to your old life and to move on from that nightmare, you felt a small part of you ache with the loss. You had lived through something impossible, something that had left you changed.

There was no going back to who you were before.

Over time though, the memory of him faded into something almost surreal. You didn't speak of it to anyone -the words felt fragile and sacred, as if telling the story might diminish it.

But the craziest thing that happened? You continued living as if everything was perfectly normal.

You only thought of Pennywise again that Christmas, in 1979...

The holidays had come to Derry and your family decorated the house with lights and garlands, the scents of pine and cinnamon clinging to every corner. There were gifts under the tree and snow falling outside the windows. Everything was festive and happy.

But when you woke up in your cozy little bedroom -on the 24th-, near the foot of your bed laid a single, crumpled sunflower. It must've been from the patch in the backyard where you'd sometimes sit with him, where the wildflowers had managed to grow despite the gloom. You held it gently, careful not to disturb its fragile petals. It felt like a memento of your time together -a reminder that what you had shared was real, however bizarre and terrifying.

On some nights, when the world was silent, you'd find yourself reaching for that sunflower, feeling the dried petals crumble beneath your fingertips. You'd lie awake, wondering where he was -if he still remembered, if he still waited. And though you'd never say it out loud, a small part of you hoped he did. Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how much you grew or changed, there was one truth you could never deny... He had left his mark on you, a scar that you'd carry forever.

And somewhere out there, you felt certain, Pennywise was waiting.

In the years that followed, you held onto those fleeting memories. They had a strange, magnetic pull -a mix of terror and fascination. You couldn't help but feel that if you let them slip, if you completely forgot, you'd be leaving behind a piece of yourself.

The Losers helped ground you.

They were your anchors to the present, pulling you back to laughter, to familiar faces and to the warmth of friends who shared their own scars and secrets. They never asked about the nightmares that sometimes made you stir, the shadows you occasionally saw out of the corner of your eye. And you never told them.

But there were also moments -quiet and lonely moments- when the weight of it all crept back, haunting you with unspoken questions. You'd wonder if he thought of you, if he missed you in his own twisted way. Did he ever feel the same hollow ache?

And deep down, you even wondered what might happen if he came back. Would he be nice and protecting? Or would he be just as monstrous and alien as before?

On some other nights, when the wind picked up, you swore you could feel his gaze -a distant yet familiar watchfulness that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as though he was still guarding you.

And so you moved forward, feeling the tug of those memories lessen but never fully vanish.

Would he stay away? Or would there come a day when that half-remembered monster with the childlike heart would find his way back to you?

1984 Derry, Maine

You tell yourself you hate Pennywise.

You tell yourself that, because you have to believe it is true, because that's the only way to move on. But deep inside your mind you can still feel him -his question echoing faintly in you, lesser and lesser each year, like a bond stretching thinner and thinner.

Currently, you're pondering over a glass of Cherry Coke. Yesterday, Bill had asked you about your dreams. He wanted to know if the clown that took away his little brother haunted you as well. You had simply shaken your head 'no', but the truth was the complete opposite.

Until you turned fifteen, Pennywise was still in your dreams. You remember those dreams even more vividly than your days in the house on Neibolt St...

You always had a strong imagination, which came with vivid dreams and equally vivid nightmares. In those dreams, Pennywise would come to you whenever you were scared. He'd pull you close in that tender way he never did in reality, fighting off every dark shape in your mind and then wrapping you in a kind of warmth you can't explain with words.

Sometimes, you'd apologize to him in those dreams -feeling an unnamed guilt- and he'd boop your nose with a soft and soothing "It's okie-dokie, Y/n."

Sometimes there'd be a red balloon waiting by your bed when you woke up, or maybe floating outside your school window. And on one specific evening, when the sadness felt like too much to bear, he appeared at the edge of your bed instead of the balloon. He hugged you and stayed with you until morning came, his glowing eyes softly illuminating the darkness. For once, they didn't scare you.

But as you grew up, you began to dream of him differently. In the nightmares, he'd chase you with a crooked smile and eyes that were dark with hunger, until you couldn't run anymore. Then you'd turn, tears streaming down your face, pleading with him and saying you were sorry over and over. You could never remember why you were sorry, but you knew that somewhere deep inside... you had hurt him. And somehow, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was you who'd let him down.

You tried to explain this to him, even though it was only in dreams -your Penny, who had watched over you. But he still seemed sad. So the dreams began to fade and he stopped showing himself altogether. Even then, you could still feel his presence, as if he was looking over you but choosing to stay hidden.

The few glimpses you have left are rather strange. Once, you had a dream with an uncanny intensity. It was the first different kind of dream -a dream where Pennywise was there as well, but puzzled, as you began to see him through a different lens. It left you feeling unsettled. Not sure what it meant, only that it somehow changed everything.

And still, each time you're scared, you call out for him in your dreams. You search, even while knowing he won't appear like he used to. Maybe it's because you had once blurted out that he was a killer, that he took innocent people like Georgie. It's all so blurry now, all these things you can't quite remember but can't entirely forget either.

You miss him.

You know Georgie's disappearance and so many others are somehow linked to that clown. But if his pattern is to stay on Earth for a year and hibernate for two decades (like Ben figured out), why then, hasn't he gone to sleep in five? It's almost as though he can't bring himself to leave.

Maybe you are asking too many questions. Or maybe you are starting to find the answers...

You're just a girl. And he… he's a boy in a strange, unfathomable way.

There are times when you think he's gone for good. But then there are other times -like when Oscar, the thick orange cat you've taken to caring for, curls up by you in a way that feels just a little too familiar. His stare, intense and watchful, feels more like an any ordinary cat.

You call him Oscar, but maybe -just maybe- you know it's him.

masterpost☁️

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[omgfangirlland]

Dude, Imagine a reader being isekaid in Gotham. Reader has a system which prevents them from dying so they're kinda immortal. What I mean is that reader can die but they'll get revived again and again. Of course.. Since it's Gotham, she gets killed on her first night. Imagine where there are certain things she gotta do to unlock some abilities but she doesn't know what or how to unlock it. A reader who was happy at being isekaid before she slowly realized the reality she was on now (happy character to gloomy and depressed reader). Imagine a reader who's slowly losing it as she dies for the 99th time.. How life slowly does in her eyes. Randomly thought of this as I was reading a quotev story of a Reader x record of Ragnarok. This sucks cause I wrote this at 3am with one eye closed. ➖👄👁 (me rn)

-🔱

OMG GO TO SLEEEP (I'll probably stay awake until 5 am so really, who am I to talk-)

Tried to keep this GN!Reader, but I may have slipped. This may be gruesome soooo fair warning from now: Dead dove do not eat, gore, blood, death, everyone is getting traumatized tbh, suicide mentioned, trying to make it funny but it gets dark quick, lots of shit like that

Some things before starting:

I've always liked the idea of Isekaid!Reader- add to that Immortal-but-not-really!Reader who remembers every death? Amazing angst.

Reader who is immortal in the sense that she regenerates, no matter how small the piece left is, she'll be back up and running by the next day, maybe the next week if the piece is really small- but you'll see her again! And like Deathstroke, the regeneration keeps her "in her prime" as well, so if she died young, like 16, she'd stop aging by 25-30(tbh this would prob be another layer to the trauma)

I imagine the way to level up is in a dead magical language, a forgotten dialect of some god, etc.

This could turn into a multi chaptered fic... This could be Romantic!Batfam... This could be Romantic!The Immortal Version!Wonder Woman... This could be Romantic!Ra's and Talia 😈 IT could be all three options 😈😈😈 It's def yandere/obsessive territory either way.

---

No matter how Reader actually died in real life, mugging gone wrong, the classic bus/truck moment, suicide, etc etc, it'll probably be brushed off as a dream in a dream once you realize you've woken up in Gotham.

So, of course Reader dies the first night. "Oh- it's just a dream, let me do crazy shit like going into rich people's places-"Yeah you end up in a hostage situation.

Now- you wanted to be sneaky, play vigilante for shits and giggles, you weren't as amused when you were eye to eye with a bomb.

Now, Batsy thinks everything is fine- he got everyone out, the area is evacuated, and everything can be rebuilt. And then he hears Oracle gasp, saying someone is face to face with the bomb. It's Jason all over again, from him running towards the building, to your shoulders slumping in defeat as the clock ticks zero, to Bruce being in utter shock as he tries to move on as the smell of burnt human flesh once again sticks to him, bringing back his sleepless nights and blank stare.

You weren't worried, thinking you'd just wake up and go to your normal life. But you wake up in pain as bones, veins, nerves, meat, and skin regrow, as the fabric that was melted into your skin is expelled, clear skin taking over. It was excruciating. It left you screaming and crying, your body shaking on the metal table. And it left the mortician who was about to work on you passed out on the floor.

When the old woman wakes up, the only evidence that she didn't hallucinate is the missing change of clothes, CCTV recordings showing you stumbling out of the building, barely able to walk, and a small smear of liquid gold.

Bruce's guilt was eating him. He's memorized your face at this point, every pixel, the way your shoulders dropped, to the way you resigned to your fate. And he starts to see you in random places, looking at him from over the street as he's swarmed by reporters, in the local cemetery, on Red Hood's territory. So he goes to the morgue.

When the bat comes knocking for any information on you, for any blood he can test to find out who you are, so Bruce Wayne can send some guilt money to your family, the woman pales, multiple prayers to different gods spewing out of her lips. Another employee, not quite as terrified but still shaken, tells him everything, even shows him the recording.

From everything, he'd have assumed a trauma-born meta-gene, but the liquid gold smear and the pure fact that you should have been dead, no discussion had, gave him pause. Maybe it was a Dark Justice League problem.

You've died so much, you stopped counting, what use was it anyway? You tried leaving Gotham, but every time something would happen, from almost getting decapitated, it was so weird to feel your neck sewing itself in place, to being run over, to being shot Bonnie and Clyde style. So much happened, and you remember it all. You remember the pain, the way your blood seeped through your wounds, the crack of your bones.

But you also remember waking up from imminent death, the red blood now golden and melting into the ground, the pain of everything mending, over and over again. You stopped trying, taking refuge in the safest territory you knew. You also stopped looking into reflections. You couldn't take what you saw, what you would hear if you stared long enough- letters and whispered words in a language you couldn't recognize, dark figures in the corner of your eye, hands clutching at you- it was too much, a never ending nightmare.

It didn't matter who you were in your past life, in Gotham, you are a nobody, and even so, the Bat and his birds found you quite quickly. Granted, you working for gangs and occasionally the Penguing wasn't exactly low profile, but no one else would hire you without needing some form of documents. Documents you no longer have. So you took to cleaning up The Lounge and turning a blind eye to everything that was happening, to the drugs, to the scream coming from the basement you weren't supposed to know existed, everything. The way Penguing pays, you'd play dumb for as long as he was alive, honestly. Soon enough, you'd be able to afford a house.

Of course- you were trying to avoid Batsy and whatever robin he currently had, what would you even say to him if you could catch a one-on-one moment? "I know everything about every version of you because I'm from another world, I found out I'm immortal, and need a sugar daddy."? Jail. Straight to Arkham. Nobody would believe you. But you were already on his radar, and when he emerged from the shadows of your small apartment, you understood why the goons were so afraid of him.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 10 Past the point of no return

Chapter 10 of Tragedy at the Miller’s

A/N- I really hope you guys like it! Thank you for tagging along and or coming back :) I love you all

Warning- fluff?, ANGST, VIOLENCE, DEATH, spoilers for season 2, Remember this is a rewrite not an AU, so the major stuff that happens in the show will happen here :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader (platonic of course :), OC x Fem!reader

Episode- 2x02

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

*25 YEARS AGO*

Without waiting for an answer, the door creaks open, and in slips a tiny figure that casts a mighty shadow over the bed while the barely conscious man struggles to see through the darkness of his room.

“Daddy,” you whisper shakily and stay under the moonlight peeking through the window to avoid being taken by the monster lurking in the shadows. “I had a bad dream, can I sleep with you?”

There’s no use arguing or trying to reassure you, you would either crawl into his bed or go crawl into Sarah’s bed. No matter how many times he’s told you they’re only dreams, you still mistake them as real and you are a rather fearful child, so he just gives in.

“Quickly,” he mumbles and lays his head back on the bed. “Or the monster is gonna get ya.”

Your eyes widen and without needing to be told twice, you scurry over and hide under your dad's blankets.

“You didn’t close the door,” he grumbles with his eyes closed and you peek one eye out to look at the hall hiding the monster that visited your dreams.

“Daddy I dreamt a big moth came and picked us up to eat us,” you share and turn to solely look at him as if the barely visible sight of his face was your sole savior.

“I told you not to watch that movie with your sister,” he reminds you sternly before he can’t help himself; he spoils you by wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close so your face is against his chest, letting you find comfort in his slow beating heart.

“Now go to sleep. No moth monster is comin’ to eat us,” he assures you and with that alone, you let out a relieved breath and nuzzle yourself against him to use his beating heart as your lullaby and fall back asleep in his arms.

——

*NOW*

“Ah. Ah. Open your mouth Teddy,” you try to get your son to cooperate, but no matter how many funny faces you do he’s quite grumpy in the mornings so he’s hard to deal with.

“Mornin’ Sunny, Apollo, Teddy. Brother,” your uncle greets as he and his family walk over and join you around the table in the restaurant. “Why are you here so early I thought you’d be hungover”

“Ha,” you feign a laugh and keep trying to feed your son, but he keeps finding his wooden horse more interesting. “Dad said getting hungover is a sign of old age, me and Apollo are still young and thrivin’.” You say smugly and flash him a cocky smile but lose your smile all too quickly when your uncle steals a sausage off your plate—“That’s mine old man.”

“Not anymore,” he quips and takes a big bite from the sausage, making you roll your eyes and respond to his question instead. “We decided to grab breakfast here since you told us you wanted to have an early meeting, and since I have early patrol we thought why not,” you share as you watch Maria and Benji walk away to grab their hot breakfast plates. “And since we found my dad here, we decided to join him.”

You offer your uncle a genuine smile and focus back on trying to feed Teddy his blended fruit and cereal, but he keeps turning his head away.

“I’m about to head out,” your dad interjects as he drinks his last sips of coffee. “Is that something I should still do? Maybe I should stay here,” he suggests since they put the town on alert for a reason you have yet to know.

“No, I prefer you go to your patrol,” your uncle lets your dad know before he leans forward so everyone around the table will hear. “Last night Kylie and Max found a pile of dead infected near Seven Cabins. Wouldn’t have been a problem but turns out they were hiding 30 live ones underneath.”

Well, there’s the answer to your question and the foil to your plans.

“If that’s so maybe the patrol groups should be bigger,” Apollo suggests as you share a worried look. “Going out in pairs is perhaps too dangerous.”

Your uncle sighs and sits back with his arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, I thought about it, but the patrol groups will be avoiding the Seven Cabins area. Their routes shouldn’t be infested. It’s that growing storm that worries me.”

“Ellie is going to join me and Jesse,” you mention and put Teddy’s food down to pass your husband a reassuring look. “Three is better than two, plus if that storm gets any bigger then we know where to lay low until it passes or gets small again. Plus we need as many bodies here if anything does happen, and we can’t risk not going out either.”

“Sunny is right. The patrol groups will go out. Just take more precaution than usual,” your uncle interjects, making you reach over to give Apollo’s hand a gentle and assuring squeeze.

“Who’s staying with Teddy?” Your dad asks with concern. “When I come back I can still take him. Keep home where it’s safe, but what about now?”

“I changed my shift,” Apollo tells your dad. “I’ll have Teddy with me while she’s out on patrol. It’s better being safe than sorry.”

You nod in agreement and your dad sighs with relief before he parts his lips with the intention of saying something. Albeit before he can share what he wanted Jesse walks over and joins the table at the same time Maria and Benji return with their plates of food.

“Good morning everyone,” Jesse greets the group, earning warm smiles from everyone except your dad who just offers him a stiff wave.

“Mornin’ Jesse, ready to go?” You ask as you see he’s in his jacket and carrying his backpack of supplies already.

You have your stuff with you but your jacket is hanging on your chair and your backpack is by your feet.

“Almost, we’re just missing Ellie,” he says as he looks around the table. “Is she not here?”

Your dad shakes his head and responds for everyone. “No. I wanted her to come with me on patrol but I decided to let her sleep in instead.”

Your gaze lingers on your dad as you feel quite surprised that he’d want to take Ellie. It’s just he knows she’s trying to avoid him so he usually just rides with someone else. You have to wonder what made him so daring as to want to patrol with her.

“Oh, okay.” Jesse nods whilst your dad looks at the clock on the wall across from the table, and then gets up abruptly.

“I’m going to head out now. Be careful everyone.” He says simply and starts to walk around the table with the empty cup he’s going to discard on his way out.

“Be careful,” you tell him as you follow him with your eyes.

“You too,” he says back and caresses Teddy’s head as he passes by him. “Talk through the radio if you need help. We’ll try and get there as soon as possible.”

You nod in comprehension and before he walks away completely you face Teddy to address him. “Wave goodbye to your grandpa, Teddy. Say Bye-Bye,” you try to teach him while also slowly opening and closing your hand. “Bye-bye.”

“Bye, Teddy,” your dad stops to try and get a response.

Thankfully, your son raises one hand and mirrors your actions by opening and closing his hand.

“Bah,” he tries his best to say what you did, earning a grin from your dad and a laugh from everyone else.

“Good job buddy,” Apollo praises him.

“Bye Teddy,” your dad says one more time. “I’ll see ya later, cowboy.”

Teddy waves his hand wildly now that he started and doesn’t stop until he no longer sees your dad. After that, he drops his hand and pouts his bottom lip as his eyes fill with tears.

“It’s okay, look,” you try to distract him so he doesn’t cry for your dad by trying to offer him a small spoonful of food, but when he meets your eyes he keeps swerving every attempt, making you sigh and making Benji giggle as he watches every attempt with amusement.

“Still having a hard time,” Maria asks from across the table.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Mornings are still a fuss.” You say and put his food down to continue eating yours. All while Benji walks over and offers Teddy a spoonful of his soft food and actually gets Teddy to eat his food with glee.

“Of course,” you retort lightheartedly and scrunch your nose at your son.

Benji tries to offer him another spoonful of food but he’s stopped by his dad. “No more Benji, he has to eat his own food.”

Said boy walks back in defeat and plops himself back in his own seat, whilst Jesse takes your dad's seat while there’s still plenty of time left before you have to leave.

“What happened last night after I left?” Jesse asks, causing you and Apollo to share panicked and knowing looks.

You almost don’t want to share that Dina and Ellie kissed, but if you tell him that your dad shoved Seth, then you’ll have to tell him why he did. It’s just…it’s too complicated.

Why do they all have to kiss each other? It’s a good thing your friend group wasn’t so complicated.

“Well,” Apollo sighs as he finishes his breakfast and tries to get Teddy to eat in your stead. “There was quite a commotion actually.”

Jesse’s interest piques and Apollo leans in closer to share quieter since Seth is in the same room. “Ellie almost fought Seth, but ultimately got interrupted by Joel when he came in and shoved the old man to the floor.”

“No way,” Jesse gasps as he holds on to every word. “Why? What happened?”

Once again you and Apollo share a look before you interject this time. “Seth reacted badly to Ellie and…Dina kissing. I’m sorry Jesse.”

Said man seems to grow uninterested now and instead seems to be in his own mind for a moment.

“We shouldn’t gossip in public,” Maria warns the group of you, so you sit back and continue to eat your food while Apollo waits a moment.

“Are Dina and Ellie okay?” Jesse asks now with no sign of a grudge or anger, which you admire. You don’t think you would be as comfortable if you heard that one of your best friends kissed your ex, but that’s just you, so it’s a good thing that didn’t happen to you.

“Yeah,” you assure him. “Everyone is fine. Seth was just embarrassed. That’s all.”

Jesse hums.

“You should eat Jesse,” Maria tells him. “With this brewing storm, we don’t know if you’ll be out long. We’re hoping you won’t, but we never know. So eat and then if you could go get Ellie for me and tell her I need to talk to her before you leave, I would appreciate it.”

Without a fault Jesse nods and accepts Maria’s favor before he listens to her suggestion and goes to grab his breakfast, letting you comment on the messy relationship part.

“He’s a very good guy, I don’t think I could be so easily okay with my friend if they kissed my ex.”

“What did I just say,” Maria whispers her warning, but Apollo still chimes in nevertheless.

“Me neither.”

You look at him and find his gaze. “Oh?” You question teasingly with a questioning look.

“Oh.” He teases back before he leans in towards you. “It's a good thing we didn’t have to deal with that.”

You snicker. “You said it.”

He smiles with amusement and then strokes your chin, ending that conversation there since Jesse comes back and neither of you want to tease him. He’s too good for either of you to pick on him about that matter, so you let him be and instead focus on other unimportant matters that take up the time while you eat. Eventually, he leaves to do as Maria told him and you don’t waste a second of your time.

Breakfasts with your family aren’t uncommon but it’s the thought of mortal danger lurking nearby that makes you try and cherish this morning more than others, fearing in the back of your minds that it could be your last.

“You should take Hermes,” Apollo suggests, taking your attention away from an old couple carrying your son after they said he reminded them of their late son when he was a baby.

“With these infected under the snow she’ll sniff out any danger before you can be surprised by it,” Apollo adds, letting you know he hasn’t had a moment's peace since he was told the news and remembered you had to go out today.

“What about you and Teddy? You’ll need her with you too,” you argue softly, but he quickly rebuttals.

“I’d feel more comfortable if I knew she was with you and the others, so take her with you.”

Finding no stronger argument to use without ending up going back and forth, you offer your husband some peace of mind and give in. “Okay, I’ll take her…is that why you brought her with us?”

He chuckles softly and admits his intentions, making you smile with amusement before your attention drifts to the old couple as they hand you back your baby as your Uncle Tommy gets up on a sturdy chair to steal everyone’s attention and start the meeting.

“Now you're all probably wondering why we’re here after rumors have started spreading, so as to stop misinformation from spreading…yes, Kylie and Max ran into a group of infected that came out of a pile of their own dead and snow,” he pauses to let the people collect their thoughts amongst themselves.

Once the room silences again he continues. “We can’t be sure how many more there are, but we know we can’t ignore them. That’s why the town is on alert. Now, the most likely outcome is none of this is necessary, okay?”

You really hope so. You’ll have a knot in your stomach the entire time you’re out and unsure of your family’s well-being.

“You wanna remind me next week how I made y’all go through all this crap for no reason?” Your uncle continues to say. “Nothin’ will make me happier. But you know the drill. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. Now half y’all is hung over and want me to shut up. But, uh,” he pauses briefly as you and the crowd laugh in response to his remark.

“I’ma go through this anyway ‘cause it’s been a minute. If you see flares, if you hear bells, stop what you’re doin’. You follow the plan. What’s the plan? Vanessa, what’s the plan?” You catch him pick on someone in front of the crowd.

“We go to the forest?” The little girl answers cluelessly, making people laugh and your uncle smile.

“To the forest?” Your uncle retorts. “Do not go to the forest, sweetheart. Be such a bad idea. Now, young ones, old ones, right quick into basements and cellars. You lock the doors, you reinforce, shelter in place ‘til we tell you it’s safe to come out. Now for the rest of us, where do we go?”

“Up,” the crowd says altogether.

Your uncle nods. “Up, that’s right,” he agrees. “Rooftops, second floors. What do we bring?”

“Guns!”

“That means—”

Before you can finish hearing what your uncle is going to say your attention is stolen by the sound of Ellie’s voice. “You wanted to—“

Before she can finish albeit, you see that Maria cuts her off to shush her so she can listen to your uncle. You however, make it hard for Ellie since you lean forward with your child in arms and wave his little hand at her whilst you offer her a warm smile.

Ellie smiles and waves at Teddy, but when she meets your gaze her smile fades slightly and she offers you a greeting nod, letting you then continue listening to your uncle.

“….Keep ‘em on you. Safeties. Please. Somebody shot themselves in the leg last week.”

“Earl!” Apollo and the rest of the crowd reveal with teasing laughs.

“Alright,” your uncle nods with a smile. “Don’t be Earl. Now, bigger weapons,” he moves on. “Security team will handle those. For the rest of you, if there’s a breach…god forbid, stay off the Main Street. Last place you wanna be, trust me on that one.”

You sigh with worry and hold onto Theo just a little tighter.

“Any questions?” Your uncle asks the crowd and waits. When he sees and hears nothing he finally finishes the meeting. “Alright then. Get with your group leaders. Spread the word to your neighbors. Let’s get everyone in the loop.”

“Go hug daddy,” you hear Maria tell Benji, and as a result, he’s quick to slide off the bar table. “Tell him he did good.”

Once Benji passes by you you address Maria before she can take Ellie with her. “I’m leaving soon. I hope nothing bad happens but either way, take care.”

Maria nods in comprehension. “Keep your ear open for any updates and be careful.”

“Of course,” you assure her and offer her a smile before you look at your partners. “I’ll meet you guys outside.”

Ellie nods while Jesse offers you a verbal response. “Yep.”

Without another word you and Apollo start to head out, but before you can make it outside, as you’re in the middle of the restaurant you throw up your hand and blurt out. “Bye Uncle Tommy!”

“Bye Sunny! Take care ya hear?!” He yells back and you throw a thumbs up before you finally make it outside without any more interruptions, catching your dog Hermes walking over to join you after she patiently waited for you to come out again.

“Hey, girl,” you greet her and crouch to pet her head. “I hope you ate all your breakfast we’re going out today. How does that sound?”

Hermes lifts her ears and tilts her head before she walks around you to rub herself against you wanting to be pet.

“Well, only ‘cause you’re so cute,” you tell her and gently scratch her side for just a little bit because time is something you don’t have anymore.

“Here,” Apollo interjects as you’re standing back up and when you face him you see him holding onto his old Firefly pendant. “My dad found it the other day stashed away somewhere. I know you fidget when you get nervous, so another pendant to add to your chain,” he says and closes the small gap between you to hang the metal chain around your neck, causing an immediate awe-struck smile to appear on your lips.

“Are you sure it’s not so I have you around my neck,” you poke fun and lean your face closer to his while Teddy grabs the pendant and studies it with fascination.

“Well,” he scoffs lightheartedly. “That’s exactly it. Actually.”

You giggle and press a small peck on his lips before you just wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a tight embrace.

“Be careful please,” you whisper nervously now.

You had been nervous ever since you heard the news about the Town being on alert, but you’ve been trying to put on a brave face as you told yourself over and over again that nothing is going to happen. Yet now that you’re so close to leaving, you’re so scared that something will happen while you’re away.

“I will be,” Apollo assures you as he rests his chin on the top of your head and rubs your back. “We’ll be okay. Don’t worry too much about us.

You let out a shaky breath and hug him tighter.

“You be careful out there too,” he says against your head as he presses a kiss on it. “If things get bad here and there, don't rush home. Don’t risk your life. Put yourself first and once the storm has passed come home. Otherwise don’t risk it. You know I can protect Teddy and myself.”

You want to fight him because even now every muscle in your body wants you to risk your life to come to their side if anything bad does happen, but you need to believe that this town won’t crumble.

“We’ve been through hell, it’s not anything I’m not used to. And you…you’re the strongest person I know,” he speaks sweetly, and with every word a part of you feels relieved while another feels more worried—“We’ll see each other again.”

You pull away and he brings his hand down to cup your cheek and offer you a charming smile before he leans in and steals a short yet passionate kiss.

“I love you,” you tell him words you’ll never tire of repeating.

“I love you too,” he redirects without hesitation.

You take in his words and keep them close to your heart as a form of comfort when you’re out.

“I love you to my Theo,” you now direct at your son who's distracted by trying to eat your pendant and making noise with the chain. “You be good and brave, okay?” You ask rhetorically before you press him against you and snuggle him for a good and long moment until you see Ellie and Jesse coming your way.

“Apollo!” Ellie exclaims before she runs over. “You’re not joining us?” She asks simply because he’s lenient with her when they happen to go on patrols together. It can be a real pain in the ass, but it’s also sweet that she ended up liking him after she told you not to give up your freedom for a man.

“Not today,” he lets her down. “I will soon though. I’m missing the action.”

“Yeah, you are,” she laughs

“Ah yes the action that comes after not following rules,” you quip and put your hand up so Jesse can give you a high five.

“You know what? The last time you guys lost the game, so it sounds like you’re both just sore losers,” Ellie remarks smugly. “So I’m choosing not to listen.”

Apollo clicks his tongue and shrugs with the same air of smugness Ellie was imbued with.

“Whatever, let’s go now, shall we?”

“Please!” Jesse agrees and with that, you set off to the stables where your horses are already waiting all saddled and everything. The only thing that’s missing is you to climb on, but first, you hug Teddy one last time, and then you throw your arms around Apollo to breathe in his scent and appreciate his warmth as if you’ll be leaving for months when it’s only a couple hours out of the day.

“I love you. Take care, okay?” He repeats as he holds you just as tight.

“I love you. You take care too.”

You draw in a heavy breath and linger in his embrace for a moment longer until you force yourself away to hand Teddy to Apollo. Albeit rather than mounting the horse right away you hold Apollo's gaze for a second longer before you finally climb on your horse.

“You take care of them, Hermes,” Apollo orders your dog and she watches him seriously for a moment as if locking on to her task before she runs off and waits in front of the gates.

“Say bye to your mommy,” you hear Apollo tell Teddy, and when you look over you see him trying to get Teddy to wave. “Bye-bye Mommy!”

Teddy watches Apollo’s hand and then looks over at you on top of your horse and doesn’t do anything for a few seconds. Albeit before you can walk away he opens and closes his hand as he tries his best to offer you a goodbye. “Bah!”

You grin and wave at him. “Bye-bye, baby!”

He waves his hand frantically and shows off his bottom teeth with a smile, causing Apollo to smile in adoration, and letting that perfect and beautiful moment be the last image you choose to hang onto before you turn your horse and walk toward the gate.

No matter if Apollo’s worried face, and Teddy’s sad face as those gates open and welcome the sight of a dangerous horizon hurt your heart, you still cling to that perfect image of them.

“Bye,” you wave at them one last time and watch Apollo wave back before you draw in a deep breath and look ahead, noticing Hermes excitedly run past the gates first before Ellie and Jesse follow, leaving you behind to draw out a deep breath and then follow.

As to if that breath was relieving? It wasn’t. In fact that knot in your stomach grows in size as those gates close behind you, cutting off the connection to your family.

You know you won’t feel better until the town is no longer on alert, so until then you’ll live with that knot.

“Are we worrying about that?” You hear Ellie ask and when you follow her line of gaze, past Hermes is a dark storm in the distant mountains.

“Nah, it’ll just be up in the mountains,” Jesse offers Ellie some consolation.

“Fucking hope so,” Ellie retorts. “Ten seconds in, I already can’t feel my ass.”

“What ass?” You quip and slowly churn your head with a smirk, meeting her squinted gaze immediately before receiving the middle finger.

“That’s why she can’t feel it…because she’s got none,” Jesse joins, making you snort and making Ellie look offended.

“What? Why are you ganging up on me about my ass? And aren't you supposed to have a stick up your ass when we’re out here,” Ellie snaps at Jesse, so he slowly glances at her and shakes his head.

“I can take things lightly when my partners listen and follow the rules,” he counterattacks, making you only laugh harder.

“When my partners listen and follow the rules,” Ellie mocks him in a deep voice before she snaps her head toward you and points her finger at you. “Aren’t you supposed to be sulking?”

“Hey!” You and Jesse both remark in sync.

“Not cool,” Jesse interjects while your smile completely falls.

“Right,” Ellie sighs as she sees the error of her ways right off the bat. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You didn’t actually get offended by her comment but you still appreciate her apology.

“For whatever it is worth…I'm sure when we make it home, the town will just be more reinforced,” Ellie offers some consolation. “I’m sure only that storm will be the most of our worries.”

You look over at the storm and nod slowly. “Yeah, it’s just…the news has me all nervous. That’s all.” You say and lead the group into a silence that turns out to be quite the companion.

Having Hermes leading the patrol is of immense help, she is able to take some stress off all three of you since she has the advantage of smelling the infected before you can see them, but the further you walk the darker the sky is until thick grey and white clouds completely cover the sky. The howling winds turn from cold to icy, and the snow goes from graceful to feeling like it’s attacking you.

Even so, you keep going on and finally break the silence. “So…my dad wanted to take you with him on patrol,” you say loud enough so you can be heard over the wind and over your scarf masking your mouth and nose. “Why is that so? He’s been good at giving you your space when it comes to partnering up for patrols.”

You glance at Ellie and wait for her to respond or at least spare you a glance, but her eyes are locked ahead, and Jesse actually answers.

“Don’t, I tried. She says no one should worry about her and Joel.”

You nod slowly. “Oh! Okay…” You trail off and steal one last glance at her because you know you’ll get some kind of response later on when Jesse is not around. As to what you’ll talk about now?

You can’t mention her kiss with Dina with Jesse around, that’d be weird, but the silence will only have you thinking about this cold more than you already are, so you share something that comes to mind.

“Apollo and I decided last night that we want to try for a second baby.”

Jesse and Ellie glance at you and they both offer you a nod that says good for you but their smiles vary, whereas Jesse offers you a sweet and proud smile, Ellie offers you a small and tight-lipped awkward smile that you know is far from sarcastic and filled with genuine joy. It’s just awkward.

“We both want Teddy to at least have one sibling,” you add. “We both have siblings and we want Teddy to have that same connection too.”

“That’s good!” Jesse says. “I would have loved to have a brother. I’m happy for you guys.”

“Thank you, Jesse.”

“I’m sure you will get what you want,” Ellie offers her kind words. “But if you do have a second kid I think I’m going to start charging you for babysitting.”

“Ha!” You laugh mockingly.

“I mean Teddy loves me,” Ellie argues. “And I’m great. There’s no one better than me.”

You flash her a happy look but nothing else because then a voice breaks through your radios. “Cottonwood patrol…”

“Hold that thought,” you direct at Ellie before you pull your scarf off your face and look at Jesse. “You make any of that?”

Jesse shakes his head and chooses to talk through the walkie for the both of you. “What? Repeat.”

You bring your radio closer to your ear in hopes you can hear better this time.

“Cottonwood patrol, return to Jackson ASAP.”

You swallow thickly and thoughtfully glance down at your hand grabbing your reign while Jesse answers back. “Yeah, alright but I think we’re too far out to make it back.”

You then look back at the path you came from before looking at a different path and finally over at Hermes sticking closer by now.

“I know a spot, we can hole up there,” Jesse lets Amy know through the radio.

“Copy. Shelter in place until we contact you. Stay warm.”

“Yeah, you too, over!”

“What spot?!” Ellie asks after Jesse puts his radio away.

“This way!” He says without giving anything away and leads the group into a trot. Well just Ellie and his horse, you have your horse fall behind as you can’t help but think about one person out on patrol too through this terrible blizzard.

Your dad and Dina will most likely not try to go back to Jackson with the storm being this out of control, but there’s also hardly any places warm enough for them to stay at to wait out the storm, and only a few people know about Eugene’s 7/11 hideout.

If you guide them here it won’t take too long. You know your way around without fear of getting lost, and with the reports of an increase in infected around the area, it will be better to be in a bigger group and have more guns. Moreover, if something dangerous does wind up at Jackson then it will be better if you arrive together when you go back home, it’ll help with potential plans.

Plus it’s doubtful your dad's radio works so high up where they are which means they most likely didn’t get the news to go back home or find shelter…

You should go get them—no you will. It’s better to be together than apart, and it’s better to be at a lower altitude to catch any incoming news.

“Jesse! Ellie!” You call out for them over the wind before you make your horse run to fall at their side and gain their immediate attention—“I’m going to go get Dina and my dad to bring them down here! They’re still out there it's impossible to get any signal with this storm and them being higher up. Plus it’ll be safer in numbers just in case anything happens!”

Ellie’s eyebrows knit and Jesse doesn’t try to stop you, he just questions one thing. “Are you sure? It’s hell out here!”

You nod. “I know my way around and I have Hermes! We’ll be back quick!”

“I’m going!” Ellie exclaims and you quickly shake your head.

“No! Don’t leave Jesse alone! Stay! I’ll be okay! I’ll bring them over here!”

“Wait! Do you know where we’re going?!” She asks.

You nod. “Yes! Go! I’ll be right back!”

Ellie seems hesitant and like she wants to disobey, but Jesse agreeing seems to change her mind. “Okay! Be careful!”

“You too!” You say back and then look at your dog. “Hermes, follow me to Copper Mine, girl!!”

Said dog barks and quickly changes course along with you, not daring to miss a beat as she continues to navigate with you at a quicker speed. Almost becoming one as you travel through strong winds and over the growing blankets of snow. Except she has killer instincts you don't which keep her completely in tune with her surroundings in a way you never could.

It’s why you love having dogs. Like Austin, your previous dog that didn’t make it back home, Hermes is reliable and loyal, not daring to leave as it all may seem terrifying and you get further away from home.

You only hope you can lead her to your dad and Dina and not have a failed mission. What would you do then?

You’ll be stuck in the same dilemma you want to help your dad from…

No! You can’t think that way! You can’t get in your head in general, home will be there when you get back. Apollo and Theo will be safe, so will your uncle, Maria, and Benji, and this storm will pass.

Yes, that’s what you need to focus on.

You can’t let the knot in your stomach grow or it will consume you.

Thus with a deep breath and after tucking your flying pendant under your jacket you nudge your horse to run faster, resulting in almost catching up to Hermes, but not quite, and then not at all when she strains every muscle to sprint away.

“Hermes!” You yell out. “Wait!”

You lose sight of her, so you have your horse sprint after her.

The falling snow hides her tracks, making it difficult to follow her every step, but then through the wind, you hear her bark again and again, louder and louder until you find her after she’s come to a stop just at the foot of a hill and a mystery girl.

Yes, it’s no illusion, it’s a real girl. Not infected. A human girl standing on top of a dangerous field of dead infected like a freighted animal stuck on a frozen pond cautiously yearning for help, but waiting to see if you’re friend or foe.

“Hermes,” you whisper sharply and snap your eyes to your dog. “Quiet.”

Said dog immediately goes quiet and stays put, darting her eyes from the field of dead infected and to the girl you don’t hesitate helping. How could you when you see her stuck in such a dilemma?

“Slow,” you warn her and immediately offer her your hand to let her know you’re a friend. “Infected,” you warn her of what you heard just this morning. “Under there.” You point and move your other hand to grab your revolver. “Come slowly.”

The mystery girl's eyes fall to the ground to inspect the field of corpses for a moment too long.

“Hurry,” you press as quietly but as loud as you can be, making the girl's eyes finally fly to you before she does as you said, moving slowly towards you in hopes she didn’t already alert the infected of her presence.

“It’s ok,” you assure her. “I got your back.”

The girl watches where she steps and makes sure that something doesn’t pop out of the snow and takes her down with them, while also looking up at you in hopes you won't suddenly vanish like a dream and if she’s any closer.

Thankfully, she makes it more than halfway, but unluckily she was not undetected. From one moment to another, the ground beneath her begins to sink, causing Hermes to start barking, giving warning of the approaching infected and hurrying the mystery girl she found.

“Just run,” you bellow and wave her over before looking at the sinking field of snow and at the dead with horror. “Run Hermes. Ahead!”

Without being told where to go now, your dog doesn’t hesitate, she turns and sprints away, leaving you behind like you told her to so she can be ahead of the incoming herd, while the girl gets closer, but all too quickly like a breaking ice lake, the blanket of corpses completely breaks apart and outcome living infected.

“You’re gonna have to jump on! I got you!” You yell and hurry her up with more urgency until she finally reaches your horse and trusts you by giving you her hand and letting you help her as she jumps on.

Before you can check if she’s secure as the ground looks like a sea of infected, you urge your horse forward and she quickly breaks into a sprint after Hermes’ trail.

“There’s an old mining place up ahead!” You let the girl know louder than before because the sound of the infected grows louder than the howling wind as you hear what could be more than twenty of them rise from the ground and run after you ravenously.

Luckily, the mining place is close, you’re able to reach it rather quickly, but since you can't follow the path to the gate you end up approaching the wall and find Hermes too, but she’s smaller than a horse and she doesn’t wait. She goes ahead to try and find a way in without you, leaving you to try and navigate through the thick of the woods to reach the gate or find another way in.

You could’ve gone around but the herd of infected is coming at you too fast, they’ll cut you off way before you can even circle to the gate. Moreover, cutting the woods will slow you down and the infected will be able to surround you, so there’s no other choice. You have to climb up the wall, and luckily, you come across the wall with the fire escape.

“We’re going have to jump and climb over!” You let the girl know. “There’s no other way around unless we want to get surrounded by those infected! Do you understand?!”

You look back at the girl to get your answer some way or the other, but you see her looking back at the quickly approaching herd.

“Girl! Do you understand!”

The girl's eyes snap to you and with her lips slightly parted in disbelief she nods.

“Okay, now!” You order and swing your leg over to jump off. The girl quickly follows suit so you’re able to smack your horse's side—“Go girl! Run off!”

With fear and a task, your horse runs off through the forest, letting you lead the girl to the fire escape, and be the first to use the wall as an advantage to kick off the wall and gain momentum to jump and grab that last step. Thereafter, without looking back, but hearing the ravenous herd you quickly ascend the stairs in a panic. When you reach the top you finally let yourself peek down and other than seeing the girl climbing up fast, you also see the infected finally catch up and throw themselves against the wall in desperate attempts to reach you.

“Give me your hand!” You yell at the girl and throw your hand down.

The girl looks up to see where your hand is before she turns her head away from the falling snow hitting her face, and hops to be able to get ahold of your hand so you can help her up.

Albeit, when you’re pulling her up, suddenly you feel a tug, causing you to slip and causing the girl to sink towards that hungry herd.

“I can’t reach my gun! Get it off!” You exclaim and drag yourself back, but the force of the infected is strong and it manages to drag the girl down more, causing you to go forward as you refuse to let go. Which, you could've and you would have been able to escape, but even if you don’t know her, leaving her to die would weigh on your consciousness, so you keep pulling until finally she manages to get herself free and lets you pull her over the wall with ease.

When you land on the floor on the other side, you continue to run because you know that the herd will try to find a way in one way or another, and where you are now is a dead end.

“No use trying to find a way in through those buildings,” you tell the girl and continue to lead the way while stealing some glances at her. “Just follow me.”

The girl glances at the quiet buildings as she most likely doubts you, but she follows you around the corner regardless, and you come across a narrow path in between a wired fence and the side of a building.

It’s a real fucking ballsy risk going through that with the infected finding their way around, but fuck it you have no other choice, so you lead the charge without looking back even if you hear the approaching herd. You just make sure the girl is behind you and push your way through with your breaths growing heavy as your heart only seems to race faster. It was already pounding when you thought you were simply coming to find your dad, but now your chest hurts with how fast it’s running with fear, and determination not to die.

Moreover, that already overworking heart jumps when the infected find their way around and throw themselves against the fence, managing to bend it with the strength of their piling bodies, and forcing you on your hands and knees as the weak fence folds over you and the girl.

Now besides trying to outrun them, you’re forced to try and avoid their reaching hands trying to grab what they can. Which is hard to do when the fence is squeezing you further as they keep pushing and piling on.

It almost seems like they’re going to manage to grab you and the girl as the fence falls over you, but before any of them can manage to catch you, you make it across to the open space.

Yet when you shove yourself to your feet, suddenly something grabs a hold of the back of your jacket and yanks you back.

You scream out and reach for your gun, but when you face your attacker, you see your dad.

“Inside now!” He bellows.

You shake off your surprise and relief and argue. “No! Wait! A girl…” you trail off as the person you’re talking about finally makes it to the open space. However, after her is an infected that quickly tackles her to the ground when she tries to push herself to her feet, causing you to raise your gun to kill the runner, but your dad is quicker and beats you to it, letting the girl crawl back with shock.

“Give me your hand!” Your dad tells her as she keeps backing away from the infected. “Give me your hand!” He insists louder and manages to snap her out of whatever stupor she was stuck in.

“Can you run?” He asks the girl after he helps her up.

“Yeah,” the girl says between pants.

“Run! That way!” He exclaims and turns her around, making you finally turn to round another corner and run inside where you know he came from, and where you hope Dina is, but you don’t take your time to check. You wave the girl in and then after when your dad runs in and closes the door, you help him find something to barricade the door to hold back the infected for at least a few minutes.

“Joel?” You feel relief when you hear Dina from the ground. “Joel?!”

“Up here,” your dad says after the second call. “I’m comin’. I’m comin’.”

“This, this,” you say as you find a thick slab of wood.

“Apollo?!” You hear Dina shout your husband's name.

“No!” You correct her. “It’s me! It’s me!”

“I got it, I got it,” your dad says in a panic before adding something else. “Your horse and your dog are down there,” your dad assures you as he snatches the slab of wood from your hand, letting you then turn to do as he said.

However, first, you finally address the girl as you find her sitting against a pillar not far from the door.

“You good?” You ask her with genuine concern, noticing that she still looks frazzled, so you press again. “Are you okay?!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good!” She finally answers still between pants.

“Any bites?”

She shakes her head so you wave her over.

“Okay, good, come with us. We can help you.”

The girl doesn't move but the force against the door sounds louder so as your dad passes by he interjects with urgency. “Now!”

You reach over for the girl's arm and help her to her feet before you pull her with you as you run to the stairs.

“Hey, are you okay?” You hear your dad ask behind you after he fell behind on purpose. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no,” you assure him as you let the girl go as you descend to the second floor. “I’m okay. I’ll explain everythin’ later. Just know I’m here for you.”

Before he can answer Dina calls out your name with surprise even after you made yourself known.

“I’ll explain later,” you repeat yourself and muster a relieved smile when you see that Hermes and your horse managed to find their way around without getting hurt or caught by the infected.

“What do we do?” Dina asks your dad now as she hears the infected trying to get in.

“Good girls,” you praise your horse and Hermes as you reach them. “You did good.” You offer them a smile.

“We leave!” Your dad shouts without thinking too much about it.

“Back to Jackson?!” Dina quips as your dad reaches his horse. “It’s too far! We’ll freeze before we get halfway.”

“I’m aware,” your dad says as he mounts his horse.

“Where the fuck did they even come from?” Dina quips. “Where did you come from?” She directs at the girl now.

“The mountain,” the girl deadpans.

“I helped her,” you explain as you jump on your horse. “And the infected came from under the snow and a pile of their dead. What Max and Kylie said is true.”

Dina bats her lashes with shock before all your attention flies to the banging and shrieking that grows louder.

“Hermes,” you grab your dog's attention. “On girl.”

With some hesitation your dog backpedals before she hops on your lap, making your horse walk back as she’s caught off guard.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” you try to calm her down.

“Okay, guys,” Dina interjects, directing her comment at you and your dad. “If we stay here, we die. If we go out there, we die.”

“I don’t know, I don’t know. I’m thinkin’!” Your dad snaps.

“Where were you?” Dina now directs at you.

“I was with Jesse and Ellie, but my plan to get you two to join us at the 7/11 won’t work now with the damn infected. They’ll swarm us there in seconds.”

“The lodge,” the girl cuts in, making you and Dina both look at her right away—“My friends are holed up in a lodge halfway up the mountain. Not far. If the infected are down here, maybe there aren’t any more up there.”

“Yes!” You agree right away. “We’ll be at an advantage in that lodge. That can work!”

Your dad's eyes linger on you before he looks back at the infected still trying to force themselves in, and then lastly he faces the girl with the plan. “Fuck it, it’s all we got. Are your friends armed?”

The girl nods. “Yeah.”

“Good. We're gonna need ‘em. Get on.”

The girl looks over at you and sees that you’re carrying your dog now so she has no choice but to ride with your dad.

Thus right in the nick of time as the infected finally barge in, the girl mounts the horse with your dad, letting you all depart and run back out to the cold with no other option. It’s either get chased through the storm or stay here and die.

Which doesn't sound good, both options are quite morbid, but you have a better chance at surviving running to that lodge. The high ground will let you get a view of every infected that will go after you which is something that wouldn’t even be possible if you met up with Ellie and Jesse.

It is true that perhaps the ammo won’t be enough, even if you join forces with the girl's friends, but when you're at that lodge you can ask for help from Jackson, or even Ellie and Jesse. You just need to make it there.

You cut through the storm as fast as your horses can take you. You avoid thinking of the worst, but when you steal a glimpse back, or when you focus on the sound of the infected, it sounds like more than you’ve ever faced before and your hope threatens to dwindle.

How is it even possible that so many have been hiding around Jackson? Has every patrol been for nothing? Was your plan to lead them away even going to work if you were able to go through with it?

What if they change their course to home?

But how would they, right? As long as you’re not leading them there they won’t think of running toward Jackson, right?

Right!

Right.

Right…

After a while of running, that intense and annoying sound of the infected no longer seems to infiltrate your ears. All you hear is that same howling of the wind, so you look back to try and see if you can still catch a glimpse, but the snow clouds your views, forcing you to only see screens of white.

It’s not until your dad brings everyone to a stop at an overlook near the lodge that you see that your fear has come true…

The gate blocking the dangers of the world from your home and your family is burning. That’s why…that’s why you stopped hearing the infected.

“What?” Dina gasps before she sees it too. The fire. “Oh god.”

“Daddy,” you whisper with concern and fear creeping up trying to poison your thoughts, but you don’t let yourself focus on it. You push it away and in doing so, as you’re lost in your mind you miss the way the girl's eyes bounce between you and your dad with surprise.

“They’ll be okay,” your dad quickly throws back at you to try and assure your already weeping heart—“but I have to go back.”

“We won’t make it,” Dina shouts what you know well enough.

“If I don’t make it, I don’t make it.”

“We have to go,” you support his decision as you think about your son Theo, your husband Apollo, and your Uncle and his family. “We have to help. They need us. Teddy—”

“No, you and Dina go to the lodge and get the reinforcements,” your dad barks back as he looks over at you to try and offer some consolation.

“We’re almost there!” The girl interrupts before anyone can make up their minds. “The lodge is just up ahead. It’s like a minute.”

You look at the girl and then look back at Jackson in the distance.

Maybe she’s right, but your family is there and you can’t see any waves of infected, which means they’re inside.

“But,” you protest and keep looking at the town imagining your family.

“We can help,” the girl keeps insisting. “We got blankets. Ammo! My friends can help you get back. We can fight.”

You look away from Jackson and meet her persistent gaze.

“You helped me,” she says as she sees the worry and distress written clearly on your face. “Let me help you. I owe you that.”

You hold her gaze for a moment and she nods to press what she said. Yet no matter how kind her words are she’s not the one who wins you over. It’s your dad.

“There’s no other choice. We need more guns if we want to go,” your dad tries his own way to reassure you as he makes up his mind. “Teddy and Apollo will be fine. You have to put yourself first in order to help them though.”

He’s right…thus you nod to let them know you finally agree.

“Fast!” Your dad exclaims and makes his horse break into a run to lead you and Dina to the lodge.

A great and deep concern still nags at your heart, but you choose to trust the girl.

You honestly didn’t expect anything in return for saving her, but you still appreciate her offer, and charge toward the lodge with that gesture warming a piece of your worried heart.

Eventually, when you reach the lodge the girl's friends are outside, seeming to have been guarding or looking for her, whatever it was, when they spot all the horses charging their way, they don’t greet you with guns.

Perhaps it was only because the girl is easy to spot riding with your dad, but either way, they help dismount your horses before the girl could even tell them.

The girl that helped you even pets Hermes when she jumps off you, further spreading that warmth in your heart.

“Inside!” You hear the girl say. “Inside!”

You watch the girl be led away by a tall guy and then catch the others tying the horses to the broken gate before you lastly notice your dad reach Dina’s side as she’s slumped over cradling her shivering body. Hence, you quickly run to her and mirror your dad's gesture by wrapping your arms around her as well to pass her as much warmth as you can offer.

“Inside Hermes. Quickly,” you order your dog and watch her quickly run off to get out of the cold. After that you turn to face Dina, seeing how much she’s suffering.

“Oh god Dina,” you gasp with worry and rub her arm harder to try and pass her more warmth.

“Are you okay?” Your dad asks you as he leans forward to try and study you.

“Yeah,” you assure him. “I’m fine. Dina though,” you mention and let her go to slip your scarf off your neck and wrap it around her. “Just remember not to close your eyes okay?”

Dina nods almost weakly and you go back to hugging her.

Once you’re inside your dad takes his coat off and hangs it around Dina to try and get her warmer, whilst your bare neck that was already being pinched by the cold, stings less, but with your entire body suffering because of the chilling cold you hardly feel content. It’s only once you’re taken to a room upstairs with a burning chimney that the coldness trying to freeze your body begins to melt away.

If only you could say the same for Dina who finds no relief even inside. Not yet at least. Hermes on the other hand curls herself up in a spot in front of the fire.

“Stay by the fire I’m going to try and contact Jackson,” your dad directs at you as he departs your side to head to the big windows.

“Okay. If you can’t reach them try Ellie and Jesse. Maybe they can relay the message for you,” you let him know, making him peer over at you and offer you a comprehensive nod. After that, you then focus back on Dina to try and make her feel warmer.

“You’ll feel better soon,” you try to assure her as you grab her hands and rub them to pass her friction.

However, she then pulls away to try and take her coat off.

“No, no, no, uh let’s keep your coat on, alright?” You hear someone stop her before you can and when you look over you see that one of the girl's friends is no longer hiding under her hood, in fact, she looks familiar.

Have you seen her before?

“It’s okay,” the girl you don’t know if you remember tells Dina as she reaches her other side. “I think I see just a little frostbite on your wrist.”

You gasp and lean forward to probe. “Can you help her?”

The girl meets your gaze and her eyes linger on you before she quickly darts her eyes away and nods. “Yeah…it’s not too bad. I’m gonna take a look.”

You nod and loosen your grip around Dina’s arm to let the girl take her glove off.

“Easy,” the girl says as she reveals the large black and blue spot that had already spread on Dina’s wrist— “we’re gonna raise your body temperature up slowly, okay?”

“What’s the…who are you?” Dina asks shakily and when you look at her you see her eyes focused past the girl, so you follow her line of gaze and catch a backpack with a yellow patch that has a wolf and three words inscribed on it, ‘W.L.F’.

Wolf?

You recognize that insignia. It’s from Washington. A libertarian group near Seattle. Yeah. You heard about it when you were a Firefly because Marlene would talk about it—Or rave about it.

“Hang on. I gotta jump on this, or you’re gonna lose skin,” the girl doesn’t answer Dina as she continues to help her.

“Okay everybody grab blankets, ammo, whatever weapons you have. We’re headin’ out in three minutes,” your dad announces without discussing it with the others you don’t know.

“You’re all a long ways from Washington,” you break your silence and let Dina go to turn and face the room, seeing all eyes fall on you, and hearing a silence pass where the tall guy and a slightly shorter guy with dark hair pass each other looks. While a black girl next to your dad looks at you surprised.

“WLF,” you point to the backpack. “Washington Liberation Front.”

Again there’s more silence before the girl you came with nods and finally offers you something. “Yeah…you know them?” She asks with her eyebrows knitted together.

“Well,” you sigh. “I never met one, but I’ve heard about them. Yes, a long time ago.”

The girl swallows thickly and nods before she blinks rapidly and suddenly changes the subject. “Uh, sorry, I’m-I’m Abby. I didn’t have the chance to tell you.”

You offer her a half smile still full of sweetness.

“Nora,” she continues and points at the tall black girl next to your dad before she points at the guys by the entrance. “Manny, Owen, and Mel,” she lastly points at the girl tending to Dina, and again you can't remember where you know her from. It’s killing you now.

“Jackson,” your dad says through the radio as he turns away without caring about what was said. “Come in. Tommy, come in. Do you copy?”

“Her name's Dina,” Abby lets Mel know who she’s helping before she points at you and says your name which you didn’t give her, but Dina did say it so that’s where she got it from.

“Jackson, come in,” you hear your dad try again as he wanders away from his spot. “Jackson!”

“And he,” Abby continues. “Is Joel.”

“Hey, Jackson, do you copy?” You focus on your dad not giving up trying to contact home, missing the silence that passes after Abby shares all your names.

“Does anyone copy? Any patrols, anyone?”

It’s quiet from the other end and quiet where you are, so you just focus on the hope and desperation you feel to be answered by anyone at home so they can let you know if they’re all alive. It’s why you get surprised by the sudden arm that wraps around your throat and squeezes tightly as they also press the cold head of a gun against the side of your head, warning you to keep still and keep from fighting.

However, even then your focus firstly drives to Dina as you’re hit with concern, catching her also being held at gunpoint by the guy Manny. Nora is behind them and Mel is still by the fire, so it means you’re being held by Owen. You can feel him towering over you. Which leaves Abby still by the fire and your dad unaware.

Thus, you call out quickly as Hermes jumps from her spot and begins to bark viciously.

“Dad. Dad, Dad!”

Said man stops talking to the radio and snaps around seeing Dina be threatened first before his eyes land on you and widen before he tries to reach for his gun.

Albeit he immediately gets stopped. “No,” Nora warns and when your eyes drift over you see her pointing a rifle at your dad.

“The dog!” Abby sneers as Hermes goes wild, but doesn’t attack because you haven’t commanded her yet. If they were infected she would’ve already ended them, but since they’re living humans she waits for her signal.

“Tell it to go outside!” Abby orders. “Or I will shoot it.”

“Hermes,” you call out loudly and grab Owen‘s arm in an attempt to pull him off, but his grip is strong, so you don’t have a choice. “Outside. Go outside.”

Hermes doesn’t listen; she keeps barking as she backs away to try and be at your dad's side.

“Now!” Abby bellows.

“Hermes!” You yell. “Outside! Now!”

The dog goes quiet and then breaks into a run to leave the room, letting Abby approach the door to slam it shut before she returns.

“Don’t move,” Owen warns your dad.

“You’re holding the sole reason I’m not doing anything,” your dad snaps as Nora who shows off her bald head now walks to each one of you to take your weapons and your radio while still pointing her gun at your dad.

“We’re not gonna hurt them,” Abby tells your dad. “Not if you cooperate.”

You glance at her and then find your dad again, feeling nothing but confusion, fear, frustration, and betrayal.

“We’re just gonna put Dina to sleep for a while,” Abby adds. “Trust me it’s for the best…Do it.”

There’s a moment's hesitation before you hear Abby sneer. “If you don’t do it, I’m gonna smash her in the fuckin’ head.”

You begin to pant and try to remove Owen’s arm again, but he squeezes harder before he shifts just slightly.

“Abby, what about her?” He asks, making you look over and meet Abby’s gaze at the same time she looks over at you, catching at that moment, the rage you didn’t catch before.

“Keep holding her,” Abby tells Owen. “Keep her awake. The entire time.”

You swallow thickly out of nervousness and then let your eyes flicker back to your dad, seeing his own confusion and anger.

“You wanna rob us? Fine, take what you want,” your dad interjects as he keeps his hands up.

“Do we look like raiders to you?” Abby retorts as she takes her coat off.

“No,” your dad deadpans.

“What do we look like?”

Your dad's eyes bounce around the room before he faces Abby and gives her a response. “Military. Fireflies?”

And at the moment it hits you where you know Mel from. She stitched up your wound at the hospital. She’s the girl that was learning to be gentle. She…she’s doing this?

“Used to be,” Abby says with a quieter rage. “Haven’t you heard? There are no more Fireflies. They’re all gone.”

You continue to pant and look down as you begin to realize why they’re here.

They’re here for revenge because of what your dad did. Because of what he took from them. Hope.

“Okay,” you hear someone whisper before you hear Dina begin to squirm and argue.

“No, get—Get that shit away from me—”

You look over and see Mel with a syringe in her hand.

“What is that?” You cut in with concern. “What are you doing to her?”

Mel doesn’t look back; she just speaks forward as she grabs Dina’s hand and gets the syringe closer to her. “This is gonna put her to sleep. It’s going to put you to sleep for one hour. That is all, I promise. I promise,” she repeats and directs it at your dad first and then finally at you.

“I’ll be gentle,” she says at you, making your face contort with rage before you kick back and bite down on Owen’s arm, causing him to grunt and loosen his hold.

Thus thereafter, you shove him away without a plan, but you do quickly spot a shotgun by the chimney and try to lunge for it.

Albeit Abby lunges forward and swings her fist, but you manage to avoid her swing and counter back with a right hook that lands across her jaw. You then lunge for the gun, but you’re suddenly kicked at the side, making you yelp out before you’re kicked down.

“Stop!” You hear your dad bark, while Hermes begins to go crazy again outside the door this time—“Leave her. Just. Leave her.”

Someone grabs the back of your hood and yanks you back to pick you off the floor and press you against them before they wrap their arm around your throat again, squeezing so hard you can't breathe.

“Pull that shit again,” Abby hisses at you as she holds her offended area. “And I’ll fucking shoot her.”

You look over at the girl you failed to help and see that Manny presses the gun harder against Dina’s head.

“Understand? Nod if you understand.”

Owen’s grip loosens so you give her what she wants and nod, letting Mel finally poke Dina with the needle and inject her with whatever medicine she brought.

“No. No. No!” Dina protests, but it can’t be avoided anymore. She goes down, making Manny lay her on the ground.

“See?” Abby points out. “Breathing.”

You keep watching Dina until you’re able to make out her back rising and falling.

“That’s a nice scar you have on your right temple there,” Abby adds, picking your gaze off Dina to look back at her. “I'd say you’re about, what, six feet? In your 60s now? You actually are pretty handsome. Congrats on that.” She chuckles, whilst your face contorts with disgust and disbelief.

“I’m gonna give you one chance to tell the truth, Joel,” Abby keeps on going more seriously now. “If you do…let’s face it. We’ll all know. I’ll let them live.”

Your eyes widen and fly to your dad whilst he immediately finds you too.

“Wait, Abby, I thought—”

“Shut up!” She cuts Mel off angrily, causing Hermes to start scratching the door for a moment before she stops barking and you hear her run off.

“Where was the last place you saw the Fireflies?” Abby continues to address your dad, and with that question, your dad glances at Dina before once again meeting your gaze and giving Abby what she’s asking for.

“Salt Lake,” he says and looks at her.

“At least you’re honest,” she says as she steps back and then turns to approach the chimney.

“Wait,” you whisper as you see her grab the shotgun. “Wait. Wait. I saved your life,” your voice quivers as you’re unable to hold yourself strong like your dad.

“What life?” She counters and turns around to point the shotgun at your dad for a second before she hits the trigger, managing to hit your dad straight in the knee, and causing him to yell out and fall to the ground.

“NO!” You cry and pull away to try and immediately reach your dad, however, Owen only secures his hold and keeps you put.

“Please,” you beg with tears immediately falling from your eyes.

“Tourniquet him,” Abby says.

“Daddy,” you whimper.

“Mel, let’s just do what we came to do,” Owen’s words register behind you, but all you can focus on is your dad.

“Daddy,” you cry again, making him put his hand up to try and stop whatever you plan to do whilst Mel approaches your dad with her belt to do as Abby told her to do. Thus when she fastens the belt above your dad's wounded knee, he screams out, forcing you to quickly look away and try to cover your ears.

“Look at him,” you hear Abby spat before she walks over and grabs your chin, making your dad use his energy to sneer at her.

“Don’t…don’t touch…her.”

“I said look at him,” she threatens in a low voice, so with no other choice, you slowly raise your eyes off the floor and look over at your dad.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, baby. Just do as she says,” he whispers at you with every effort focused on looking assuring as he’s writhing with pain.

“You’re tough,” Abby speaks again as she slowly drops her hand from your chin in order to approach your dad and crouch before him.

“I guess you probably have to be, killing all those people. Do you know how many you killed that day? Did you count as you went, or…” she trails off and shakes her head. “I guess maybe it just didn’t matter? Eighteen soldiers. And one doctor. You remember that one. An unarmed doctor you shot in the head. Yeah.” She nods as she sees that your dad is recalling that day.

“That was my dad,” she reveals, making you gulp. “Guess you probably already figured. The nurses said you barely even looked at him when you pulled the trigger. And then, you just walked right past his body and out the door. But I looked at him.” She nods as you hear her voice break. “I saw him. I was 19.” She goes quiet and sighs as she looks away for a moment.

“And he’s sorry,” you interject for your dad with tears running down your cheeks. “He’s sorry. Just…please,” you sob. “Let him go. He won’t ever walk normally again. Please.”

Abby slowly looks back at you with a side eye before she pushes herself up and walks to you with her eyes red, brimming with tears, and filled with rageful grief

“You can beg all you want. Cry. Hope for things to change. I will let you do what I never got the chance to do. It doesn't matter. At the end, you'll know what it’s like to get your father ripped from you before you can even say goodbye,” she says without letting her tears fall and with every word feeling like a bullet to the flesh because deep down past the denial and diminishing hope, you know she means what she said.

“I’ve been in a militia for five years now,” she changes the subject and turns around to slowly return to your dad again. “Seattle. I’d warn you not to go there, but little chance of that. Anyway, our commander trained us to follow a code. We don’t kill people that can’t defend themselves.”

At that you feel the grip around you falter, but not enough to let you find a way out.

“And right now,” Abby whispers as she crouches again to trace your dad's scar with her thumb, making your stomach churn with rage and the same disgust as before.

“That’s you. But I am going to kill you. Because it doesn’t matter if you have a code like me, or you’re a lawless piece of shit like you,” her voice quivers now. “There are just some things…everyone agrees are just fucking wrong.”

She sobs and looks over her shoulder. Not to look at you but at something else. When you follow her line of gaze you see her looking at a bag of golf clubs.

“Please,” you plead again and hold on tighter to your captor's arm. “Please!”

Abby keeps her word though. Your begging falls on deaf ears as she approaches that bag.

“Dad,” you cry and he finally meets your gaze with a softness he didn’t show before in front of Abby, but he shows it now as you hold his gaze.

“It’s okay,” he lets you know, but not by his words, by his look alone and that makes you sob.

“You know, it’s funny,” Abby interjects. “I have waited so long—”

“Oh, just shut the fuck up and do it already!” Your dad cuts off yet another speech, so Abby doesn’t go on, she falls silent and a few seconds later she comes back into view with a golf club in hand.

“You,” she spats. “Stupid…old man.”

You begin to heave and feel your heart clench as she gets closer to your dad with the club.

“You don’t get to rush this,” she sneers before she then swings the golf club down on your dad's wounded knee, causing him to scream out, and making you scream out as if you had gotten too, but that’s it, it felt like she hit you too. She keeps going. She keeps hitting his knee and with every hit and every scream your dad lets out, you yell out feeling your heart jump and break with every single hit.

“Stop!” You bellow with thick tears running down your face. “Please god just stop!”

But no. She keeps going as if with every hit she’s letting out an ounce of rage and fulfilling a sick dream.

“Dad!” You sob and pull. You squirm, throw your arms back, but it’s a useless endeavor. All you can do is fall on your stomach at the same time your dad falls as he can’t withstand the pain a moment longer.

“Please,” you plead again and again, but she only acts out worse. Instead of his knee, she starts hitting his face with the bloody end of that club.

“Please!”

“Don’t,” your dad coughs and reaches out for you. “Don't look…baby.”

He wiggles his fingers to try and desperately reach you, staining them with his own pool of blood.

You reach out too with the same desperation, hoping, wishing with every fiber of your body that your desperation will let you do the impossible and let you reach him.

“Don’t you dare,” Abby barks back at you as she looks over with her face stained with your dad's blood. “Or I’ll kill the girl next.”

You have no reason to doubt her, so to save Dina’s life you keep your eyes open and watch her bring the club down so hard it snaps in half.

“Stop,” you keep begging. “Please…please.”

Even if she said what she said. Even if she never listens, you keep pleading as she now uses her fists to hit him over and over again.

Your voice eventually gives out before she does. Or you think it does, you don’t know. Besides, the pressure on your neck as they prevent each of your attempts to break free, you can’t feel a thing. You’ve gone numb, so you don’t know if they’re holding you down anymore. You just know a writhing pain as your dad slowly slips away as his face gets pampered with blood and almost becomes unrecognizable.

It’s almost like you’re dying with him without having anything done to you. You just can't stand it. The heartbreak, the horror, and the pain. You also break and slip into the darkness like him.

All you can do is keep your hand out in desperate attempts to reach him. Other than that you’re useless. Completely and pathetically useless.

You want her to stop, but you think she’ll go on forever. She won’t stop. Her rage won’t stop coming. She just keeps hitting him again and again. She keeps making you suffer an immeasurable amount of pain, making sure with each swing, and each dying groan that this day will forever live on in your memory.

She makes sure that even if you manage to live and make it past your grieving period, you’ll never be able to actually feel a true moment's peace.

Then again how is it possible you’ll live past today? You won’t. You’ll die here right after him, at his side, and…it’s okay because it will relieve you of your own pain.

You are ready to die at his side.

There even comes a moment. An interruption in the gruesome sound of Abby’s fist hitting your dad's disfigured face that a gunshot goes off in the room, so you close your eyes and without struggle or finding a way to dodge the end, you close your eyes.

Yet the bullet doesn’t hit you at all, so with the energy you can muster you look over and see Ellie.

It’s Ellie!

She falls on the ground beside you but doesn’t linger there, she immediately flies up and swings her arm back, slicing Manny’s cheek with her switchblade.

“Ah! Fuck!” Manny exclaims, whilst like a shot of adrenaline after seeing her and seeing all of Abby’s friends charge toward her, you come back to life and immediately push yourself to your feet, locking eyes on Nora approaching Ellie and tackling her.

Nora is unable to hold her balance, so she stumbles forward because of your sudden body weight, and hits her nose against the edge of the chimney, making her yelp. “Damn it! Fuck!”

You then quickly slither your hands down to her holster to try and reach for her gun, but before you know it she shoves you back and since you cling onto her you both stumble back. Albeit she quickly follows up by swinging her elbow and hitting you right in the throat, causing you to let go of her, and causing Ellie to cry out your name. All while you begin to grab at your throat and gasp frantically to try and breathe.

However, as you’re focused on your throat closing and the sharp pain that stabs it, you don’t notice Ellie already on the floor disarmed. The next thing you know is an arm locks around your throat and makes it harder to try and capture a breath. It’s why you fall back to the ground on your stomach with ease because you keep gasping.

“Stupid fucking bitch!” You hear the angry shouts of someone before the pressure on your back and the arm around your neck slips off and instead, heavy footsteps charge at someone.

“No!” You manage to hear someone shout before Ellie’s scream hits your ears, making you want to react with every fiber of your being, but only now can you remember to breathe even if it hurts your throat to do so.

“Joel!” Ellie cries out. “Joel! Joel!”

You flip your head to look over at Ellie and try to reach her as you also try to call out to her, but as you part your lips nothing comes out, besides the pain you feel stabbing your throat, you can’t muster a single word. A knee just proceeds to press on your back again, leaving you immobile.

“Joel, get up,” Ellie demands. “Joel, get up. Joel, fucking get up!” She bellows desperately before she then begins to whisper as she starts to crumble with the knowledge of what awaits your dad. “Joel, get up. Get up.”

You flip your head again and when you see your dad again still laying there without moving, another immense wave of immeasurable pain slams into you.

“End it,” you hear Owen snap from on top of you.

“Joel, get up. Please,” Ellie keeps insisting. “Please, get up. Get up. Fucking, get up!” She fights hard and this time your dad tries, he slowly tries to pick his head off the floor, but alas, he still can’t move.

“Get up. Get up,” Ellie pleads and you try to reach for him again, but he’s still far, and then Abby blocks every attempt as she walks in between you and your dad to pick up one half of her broken club.

“No,” you try to plead, but you can’t muster a word. The force of the word strains your throat, but you can’t say it. You can’t speak, you can only sob and slam your hand against the floor.

“No,” Ellie cries, using her voice for you and herself. “Please no,” she adds as Abby turns away. “Please. Please don’t.” She begins to sob as Abby faces your dad's body and starts to crouch by his side again.

“Please—please don’t,” Ellie keeps crying out words you can’t even whisper anymore. “Please don’t do it! Please!”

You start scratching the floor to try and drag yourself forward to try and stop Abby, but the force on top of you presses harder, holding you still and only making you claw your nails deeper into the floor as you don’t stop trying. You keep desperately trying to move forward as Abby raises the half of her club.

“Please don’t!” Ellie keeps begging. “Don’t! Please, don’t! Don’t!”

Yet no matter how much Ellie begs, no matter how hard you try or how hard you sob, Abby impales your dad's throat.

Now after all that torture, after all that unimaginable pain, after 29 years of knowing him, seeing the same sky and breathing the same air when you were together and apart, your dad is taken from you, so as his life is stolen from him, and as Ellie screams out in pain, the air from your very lungs is stolen from you.

The light that once shone so bright has gone off, and life itself feels like it was ripped out of you too.

Your beating heart of course contradicts that feeling, but there’s truly nothing. You feel nothing. Isn’t that what death is? An endless abyss of darkness? Nothing?

If only fate could have granted you such mercy, but you’re left there motionless, staring at your dad's lifeless body without drawing in a breath until Ellie’s words travel in your ears, reminding you there’s still someone you need to keep your heart pumping for.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Ellie bellows angrily, so you finally drag your eyes up, knowing there’s only one person she could be directing those angry words to; Abby.

“You’re gonna die!” Ellie keeps shouting as Abby herself walks away without a second thought. She merely glances at you and then leaves.

“You’re all gonna fucking die!” Ellie adds and then suddenly gasps. When you look over you see her wheezing and Manny walking away.

You try to say her name, but again you can't speak, so you reach out for her desperately as everyone around you moves about, telling you that no one is holding you back anymore. You’re free to move, so without caring that everyone is leaving, you immediately face your dad again, catching Manny mumbling at your dad's body in English and Spanish. “Fucking pendejo.”

Yet you don’t care for the insult, you push yourself to your knees and crawl to your dad as fast as you can. When you reach his side you sit up on your knees and wheeze as you try to sound out a word, but nothing comes out, so you raise your hand and reach for his cheek, but don’t touch his bloody cheek yet. You let your hand hover and lean in closer to try and speak again.

However, once again nothing comes out. You can’t talk. You can only feel a sharp pain burn you and throb each time you try again and again, leaving you so frustrated that you sob and hit your thighs as if saying ‘dad,’ over and over was going to raise him from the dead.

You hoped that the sound of your voice would wake him. He would always answer or acknowledge you in some way when you called out to him, so you try to muster, ‘Dad,’ but you can’t.

You can’t and he doesn’t rise, so you finally bring your hand down and touch his cheek which is still warm because of the blood still in his veins, causing you to keep hoping. Hence, you bring your hand down to grab the broken club and pull it out so it’s not hurting him anymore. You then grab his shoulder with both hands and shake him gently as you keep trying to get him to react.

Alas, he remains lifeless, so you turn him on his back and shake his chest. When you get nothing, your chest tightens and your heart pounds harder as the truth creeps forward, but even so, you remain defiant and close your eyes to lay your head on his chest to try and seek the comfort of his beating heart just like you would do when you were a little girl, or that time he was hurt, and when you made up and watched a movie on your bed.

You lay your head on his chest hoping you’ll hear his heart, but…you hear and feel nothing. He’s gone.

Your dad is…gone.

You’re not going home together. He’s…dead.

You had acknowledged that fact before. You stopped breathing and felt like the world stopped for you then, but you denied the truth and hoped that your attempts to wake him would work, but you fooled yourself and now you can’t change reality. He’s dead…and now that you’re bombarded with the truth as you can’t hear his heart, you clutch onto his chest and keep yourself pressed against him as your world shatters and the abyss returns.

You wished to slip away with him now. You want to leave this world with him, but fate continues to laugh in your face by keeping your heart pumping, so you keep hurting deeply, and wishing for it to end.

You’re actually so stuck in your own head and in your own pain, that you forget about Ellie. You don’t acknowledge her until after she’s dragged herself to your dad's side and interlaces her fingers with his before she also lays her head on his chest.

That’s the only ounce of comfort you feel, seeing her right by his other side, but no matter how relieved either of you feel that you’re alive, you still crave for nothing more than the sweet mercy of death to stop hurting.

Once again though, it doesn’t come, so you remain still, feeling your dad's body lose its warmth, and hearing each other's sobs and sounds of pain.

That pained filled silence remains so until the door opens. Albeit expecting it to be Abby and her friends back to leave no trace behind, you don’t react. You keep your head on your dad's chest and keep your arms wrapped around him.

“Oh god,” you hear a familiar deep voice gasp before their footsteps approach you and then call you out before they call out Ellie clinging onto your dad’s the other side

Unlike you though, Ellie gives them a sign of life by whispering their name with disbelief and sorrow. “Jesse.”

You don’t acknowledge him so he crouches to grab your arm and try to check on you, but as he pulls, you quickly pull away to keep hugging your dad.

“At least let me know you’re okay,” he says softly, but you ignore him and instead just tilt your head to point your eyes at Dina.

“Dina,” he calls quietly and parts away to rush to her side, letting you nuzzle your face against your dad as if waiting for your end to come.

And as you’re waiting, there's a faint bark from a dog coming from outside, making Jesse break the silence. “Someone’s coming.”

With Ellie unable to move, Dina only now regaining consciousness, and you refusing to move, Jesse slowly approaches the big window to check who’s approaching.

When he sees that it’s not a threat he leaves the room.

After a few minutes, multiple footsteps approach the door, but the first to barge in immediately barks twice before she runs at you and starts sniffing. Once she makes sure you’re alive Hermes lays down behind you and lays her head on top of you, trying her best to offer her comfort without needing to be told.

Seconds later the rest of the party walks into the room and there’s a chilling stillness amongst them that lasts until one pair of footsteps slowly drags themselves toward you. When they reach the piled bodies there's a loud and rumbling thud before you hear weeping as everyone else gets busy.

“Someone cover the body, Jesse help Dina, I’ll help Ellie,” you recognize Maria’s voice before there’s another nearby.

“Sunny?” You hear your uncle Tommy call and his voice hits your system like an electric shock, giving you the energy to slowly rise up and meet face to face, offering him some sense of relief to see that you’re still alive, but he can’t muster anymore. Not after what he walked into.

However, even so, it’s enough to let him know that the light that guides him through life isn't taken from him. You're here before him, and you try to call out to him, but you can only manage to part your lips and start sobbing again as you’re slammed with another wave of withering pain.

“Oh baby girl,” your Uncle Tommy cries as tears run down his dirty-covered face.

Now without trying to strain your throat a moment longer, you drag yourself to him just a bit to be able to throw your arms around him and hold each other as if you don’t want either person to slip away like the man you both loved. You then break down and let life move around you, not daring or having the will to move away.

Not until a sweet voice speaks to the both of you. “Let’s go home,” Maria says.

Your Uncle breaks away first, letting Maria help you up and wrap her arm around you. “Come on, baby,” she whispers.

You let her walk you away, but you look back, seeing people from Jackson carrying your father's covered body to bring him along, but not on horse like a part of you expects. He’s dragged behind you when you head home, a grim reminder that he’s gone.

Even then you keep looking back like Ellie, hoping for things to change or making sure he isn’t left behind, and each time you’re only hurt all over again.

What’s even worse is that when you get him you see that part of the gate has been torn down and bodies upon bodies of dead infected and dead townspeople welcome you into your hellish town, making you fear the worst about your family.

Yet you can’t communicate your fear and you can’t say you refuse to be tended to, so you have to rip away, causing Maria and your Uncle Tommy to call out after you, but you ignore them and run with Hermes toward home with your heart ready to give out if you come across the worst.

Luckily though, before you can make it far, there in between a street of disaster is Apollo. Hermes reaches him first with joy and he returns her joy before he looks over at you.

At first, his dirty face contorts with relief and joy, then he expresses concern when he at last notices the blood covering your face and body and the floods of tears that run down your cheeks as you slowly break completely.

It’s like you were holding out and now that you see the man you love you can’t hold yourself up anymore. Especially not when you run to him because when you meet halfway, you crumble, causing him to go down with you.

“Teddy is okay,” he offers you that reassurance. “We’re okay.”

You can’t talk, you can only cry your pain and hold onto him there in the middle of the corpse and blood-littered street lit by hellish firelight.

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A/N- 😁 sorry!

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