#she once told me that if we had been the same age she would’ve loved to be my and my best friend friend

[disownedbytiime]

Shout out to my aunt for being the only person to wish me a happy Valentine’s Day

[finelinefae]

my darling

synopsis: a love triangle

word count: 10.8k

contains: angst angst angst, love triangle, mfm, best friends to lovers, boarding school, violence, unrequited love,

a/n: i wrote this for wattpad during the My Policeman era. I wanted to post it here after re-reading it. I remember this being one of the first pieces of fanfic i felt super proud of !! warning it is pretty sad

. . .

Then — 1996

Dear Diary,

Today we moved into our new home in Halton. It’s small, quaint, and quiet—very quiet. The kind of place where everyone seems set in their routines, the same patterns repeating every day. I already miss London. Mum says this will be good for us, though. Good to get away from the drama. Good to get away from Dad.

The house isn’t as big as our old one. I have to share a room with Delilah now, but it’s fine—I’ll be off to boarding school by the end of the summer. Mum says I’ll enjoy it since she went to the same school at my age, but I think she’s just trying to make me feel better. Who actually enjoys living at school?

It’s a three-hour drive from Halton, which feels like a world away. I’m nervous, excited, sad, and happy all at once. The feelings are so overwhelming they all blur together into something I can only describe as... heavy. Like my life is a snow globe someone’s just shaken up, glitter falling everywhere. It looks magical at first, but the reality is you’re stuck cleaning it up for weeks, finding it in the oddest places long after.

I miss my dog. I never got to say goodbye.

Dad cried when we left. I’ve never seen him cry before. He told me it wasn’t goodbye, just a "see you later." Mum always says Dad’s a good liar, but I don’t think he was lying this time. Maybe it was the tears—they don’t suit him.

-

Dear Diary,

Today I moved into my dorm at Southend Park School.

Mum was annoyed we had to wake up before seven to pack the car and drive me down, even though this was all her idea. She’s probably just tired—or maybe something else. I have a suspicion she’s met someone. I’m not sure how she moved on from Dad so quickly. Did she ever really love him?

My dorm has six girls, including me. I’ve mostly been talking to Ellis, who’s in the room next door. She’s fourteen, older than the rest of us, but only because her birthday is the 1st of September. Today’s the third, so her advantage is technical, but she likes to remind us.

Being alone here scares me, but it’s nothing new. Delilah always had loads of friends, and Dad was always working. Mum was usually out socializing, too.

Mum cried as we finished unpacking, promising she’d pick me up for half-term or that I could come home anytime. But I don’t want to go home. I hate it there.

Tomorrow is a full day of inductions, and I’m worried about making friends. Southend Park is a mixed school, and boys make me nervous. I’d rather have no friends at all than feel like I have to pretend to be someone I’m not.

I still feel like I’m picking up glitter from months ago. I wonder when it will finally stop.

-

Dear Diary,

I made two friends. You’ll never guess—they’re boys!

Their names are Harry and Dylan. They’re both thirteen, like me, but they feel older somehow. They even live in the same dorm and invited me over this weekend.

We met during lunch in the courtyard. I was sitting alone when Dylan walked up first, chatting easily and cracking jokes. Harry followed behind, much quieter. Dylan has blond hair and a small scar on his eyebrow from climbing trees back in Morston. Harry’s hair is thick and curly—I wanted to touch it but stopped myself because, well, that would’ve been weird.

Harry didn’t say much at first, though I noticed him glancing at me. When I met his gaze, he blushed and looked down at his extra-polished school shoes.

We didn’t talk much again until the end of the day, on the way back to the dorms. That’s when we compared timetables and realized we share four classes, including English Literature. It’s just Harry and me in that one, though.

I never thought I’d be friends with boys, but I like it. It feels different from being friends with girls—less pressure to act outgoing or girly. I hope we stay friends. I like them both a lot.

. . .

Then — 2000

“Hey, Harry,” Y/N called, running across the field toward the headmaster’s office where Harry stood, focused on his Nokia flip phone.

Harry glanced up, his expression softening when he saw her. He tucked the phone into his pocket and waved her over. Despite the end-of-day chaos, both were still dressed in their school uniforms. “Hey, baby.” He greeted her with a quick kiss, pulling her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. He loved how perfectly she fit against him, as though they were made for each other.

“What’s going on? Aren’t we meeting Dylan to go to Ellis’ dorm?” Y/N asked, frowning slightly as she looked around for their other best friend.

Harry smirked, shaking his head. “We are, but Dylan got caught passing notes to Casey Becker in geometry. He’s stuck with thirty minutes in the headmaster’s office to make amends.”

Y/N chuckled, her laugh warm and familiar. “Again? He’s going to get himself expelled if he’s not careful.” She slid her hands under Harry’s blazer, warming them against his torso.

Harry brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting his thumb linger on her cheekbone. “How was your day?” he murmured, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.

“It was fine,” Y/N replied. “I scored three points in netball, and Tessa Riley gave me daggers in the changing room.” She giggled, leaning into him.

Harry smiled, pride gleaming in his eyes. “That’s m’girl.” He bent down and kissed her forehead gently.

“Oh, please, don’t make me sick,” a familiar voice drawled, breaking the moment.

“Hi, Dylan.” Y/N turned to see him strolling down the stone steps, his blazer slung over his shoulder and a cigarette dangling between his fingers. She leaned back against Harry, crossing her arms.

“Hello, my darling Y/N,” Dylan teased, his tone playful as he lit the cigarette with practiced ease.

“Seriously, Dylan?” Harry said, narrowing his eyes. “Do you really need another detention?”

“Don’t you smoke, Styles?” Dylan shot back, grinning. “Besides, Mary would love to see me again after our chat earlier. She’s got a soft spot for me.” He smirked, wiping his thumb across the corner of his mouth.

Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping away from Harry’s warmth. She was long used to Dylan’s antics—four and a half years of friendship had left little room for surprises.

The three of them had been inseparable since their first days at Southend Park Boarding School. Despite their differences in personality, they were like a family unit, supporting one another through the highs and lows of adolescence.

Dylan, the loudest of the trio, was notorious for his sharp wit and knack for trouble. Teachers despaired over his behavior, but students were drawn to his charm—especially the girls, who fell for his rebellious streak and the ever-present cigarette.

Harry, by contrast, was the golden boy: smart, polite, and beloved by staff. He balanced his role as student ambassador with captaining the football team, a position that made him one of the most popular boys in school. Dylan teasingly called him a “teacher’s pet,” but Harry wore the label without shame.

Y/N was the quietest of the three, rarely seeking the spotlight. She volunteered in the school library every Tuesday and spent her free time with her dorm mates. Still, Harry and Dylan were fiercely protective of her, and she often marveled at how lucky she was to have them.

The trio walked out of the school gates toward the housing blocks, their shadows stretching long in the late afternoon sun. Harry carried Y/N’s backpack on one shoulder, his free hand clasping hers. Dylan trailed behind, typing on his phone with an unlit cigarette between his teeth.

“Ellis doesn’t want you bringing anything to the party this time, Dylan,” Y/N warned, glancing over her shoulder. “You know what happened last time. If you pull that again, you’re getting kicked out of school.”

“My darling Y/N,” Dylan began with exaggerated sincerity, pausing for effect, “only for you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile.

When they reached her dorm, Y/N kissed Harry on the cheek and took her bag from his shoulder. “I’ll see you both later?” she asked, her eyes bright.

Dylan saluted her without looking up from his phone, while Harry smiled warmly. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, Harry,” she replied before disappearing inside.

Harry and Dylan walked in silence toward their dorm. The tension was palpable, Dylan unusually quiet as Harry’s mind churned with unspoken thoughts.

“We’re going to have to tell her at some point,” Dylan murmured, his voice low as the setting sun bathed the path in a golden glow.

Harry’s heart tightened. “No, we don’t.”

“Harry—”

“Shut up, Dylan. Nothing happened.” Harry’s voice was sharp, cutting Dylan off before he could continue.

They stopped, staring at each other, the air between them heavy. Harry’s frustration burned in his eyes, while Dylan’s sadness hung like a weight on his shoulders.

“I love her,” Harry finally said, his voice trembling. “I’ll never love anyone else as much as I love Y/N.”

Without another word, he turned and stormed into their dormitory, leaving Dylan alone on the pavement. Dylan exhaled shakily, the ache in his chest unbearable.

. . .

Then — 1998

Dear Diary,

It’s been a month since my fifteenth birthday, and Harry finally asked me out on a date. It feels like a dream, the kind where everything is so perfect you fear waking up to find it never happened.

To be honest, I think I’m already in love with him. He’s always been so kind to me, much more than Dylan. Harry carries my bag to class when I have netball, and sometimes, during English Literature, I catch him staring at me. There’s something about the way his gaze lingers that makes me feel seen.

In art class, he taught me how to use watercolors for the first time, his thumb brushing against mine as he guided me. Little moments like that remind me how much I care for him—so much that the thought of being without him feels unbearable. Is that dramatic? Probably. But I can’t help it if it’s true.

Even when I’m talking to Ellis during lunch or before bed, my mind wanders back to Harry—his smile, his eyes, the way he laughs at my jokes even when they aren’t funny, and how he hugs me differently from everyone else.

It feels strange to be fifteen and falling so deeply. What do I know about love at this age? How much further can I fall?

I think I’m going to love him forever. I hope he loves me forever too.

-

Dear Diary,

Harry kissed me today. My first kiss—with the boy I love most in the entire world.

I knew it was going to happen. We’d just finished dinner in the dining hall when he asked if I wanted to take a walk in the gardens. Dylan wanted to come along, but Harry shook his head, saying he wanted it to be just the two of us.

I felt a twinge of guilt when I looked back and saw Dylan standing there, his expression heavy as he watched us leave. He kept staring at Harry, even as we walked past the window overlooking the gardens.

Harry brought me to the tulips because he knows they’re my favorite. He said my braid looked pretty today, and that’s when I knew—I truly, completely loved him. It was the worst braid I’ve ever done, but he still thought it was beautiful.

We sat on a swinging bench, listening to birds returning to their nests. When he said my name, it sounded magical, like it had been made for his lips alone. I turned to look at him, and that’s when he leaned in and kissed me.

It felt like a scene from a movie.

No one ever tells you what it’s like to kiss someone for the first time. The way their breath mingles with yours, the world fading away as you close your eyes and step into a place so tender it consumes you. It makes you wonder if you’ve ever been truly loved before.

We only stopped because we heard a rustling in the bushes. We looked around but didn’t find anything, so Harry walked me back to my dorm. He kissed me again outside the door, and I floated through the rest of the night, humming to myself as I got ready for bed.

But when I think back to that moment, I could swear I saw a tuft of blond hair sticking out from behind a bush.

. . .

Now — 2000

Y/N sat cross-legged in front of the mirror on Ellis’ floor, carefully applying mascara as Fiona Apple played softly in the background. Ellis sat nearby, painting her nails a deep red.

“I’m just saying,” Ellis began, waving the brush for emphasis, “you and Harry have been dating for two years, and you haven’t done the deed yet?”

Y/N flushed at the mention of sex, shifting uncomfortably. She hated talking about it, even with Harry. Maybe it was because she didn’t know much about it or because she’d never had a safe space to ask questions, but every time the topic came up—whether in conversation or during truth or dare—she wanted to run for cover.

“We’re waiting for the right time,” Y/N said evenly, her voice robotic as she repeated the well-rehearsed answer.

“The right time?” Ellis scoffed. “I’ve never seen a couple more in love—it’s nauseating.”

Y/N hesitated, her mind drifting to moments when she’d wanted to take things further with Harry. But he always stopped before it went too far. Sometimes it made her feel like she wasn’t enough—pretty enough, desirable enough—but then he’d kiss her softly and remind her how beautiful she was, stroking her cheek as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We’ve done... things, but not that.”

“Is Harry religious or something?” Ellis asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No, I don’t think so,” Y/N replied with a frown. “He’s never mentioned it.”

“Maybe he’s waiting until marriage,” Ellis mused.

The thought of marrying Harry made Y/N’s heart swell. She’d dreamed of it ever since their first kiss in the gardens—walking down the aisle in a white dress, Harry waiting for her at the end, tears in his eyes. Maybe they’d both cry.

“I don’t mind waiting,” Y/N said, her voice soft but certain. “I love him enough to wait as long as he needs me to.”

Ellis groaned, grabbing a bottle of vodka from her bedside table. “You can’t say stuff like that when I haven’t had a single drink.” She poured herself a shot and downed it in one go. “Okay, continue.”

Y/N laughed and turned back to her reflection, humming Queen’s Love of My Life as her thoughts drifted back to Harry.

. . .

Then — 1998

Dear Harry,

Today we went to the beach—the three of us. Me, you, and Y/N. I know in most situations it’s you, Y/N, then me, but in these letters, it will always be me and you.

We’d been planning this trip for weeks. It’s a three-hour drive to the coast from school, and Y/N had been complaining about the journey the entire time. I didn’t mind. Is it wrong of me to want to sit next to you on a bus full of people not one of them knowing who we are for three whole hours? Our knees touching for three whole hours? Sand on your feet and your hair salty from the sea, inhaling your scent and wanting your hand to touch my thigh for three whole hours?

When we got there, the morning was overcast, but by the time we hit the sand, the sun broke through the clouds. It was perfect. The light caught your skin, making it glisten, and your eyes shone with that impossible sea-glass green. I wanted to look into them forever, but you were too busy looking at Y/N.

I tried to catch your attention—touching your shoulder as I passed by, reaching for the beach bag at the same time as you, brushing my fingers against yours. But it didn’t matter. You only had eyes for her, and I only had eyes for you.

When you kissed her in the gardens, a part of me died. I had been pining for you for so long, silently hoping you’d see me, but it was always her. I felt stupid, running miles afterward, the wind howling in my ears: You fool, you idiot, how could he ever love you?

I didn’t want to feel this way, Harry. I tried to bury it, to pretend it wasn’t real, but when I met you, everything I’d hidden about myself unraveled.

The day wasn’t without its drama. Y/N, distracted, stepped into the road thinking the approaching van was the bus. You moved so fast, grabbing her and pulling her back before the van could hit her. I watched the terror flash across your face, the way you held her afterward as she cried. You kissed her forehead, comforted her, showed her the kind of love I’d only ever dreamed of.

And I hated her for it.

I feel terrible admitting this because I do love Y/N. I truly do. But most days, I hate her, and only because she has you.

When we finally got to the beach, the three of us ran toward the waves, shedding our clothes as we went, laughing like we were carefree children. For a moment, we were. We left our troubles behind in the sand.

You swung Y/N over your shoulder as you splashed into the water, and I couldn’t help but admire the way your muscles flexed. You were a work of art, Harry, something meant to be admired in a gallery. And I was nothing more than an observer, longing for what I could never have.

Later, Y/N went to get ice cream. Before she left, she asked for your order, and I already knew what you’d say—mint chocolate chip. The way she looked surprised made me feel smug for a second, but that quickly disappeared when she said it was her favorite too.

While she was gone, I felt a cramp in my shoulder. “Let me,” you murmured, and before I could answer, your fingertips ghosted over my shoulder, pressing into the tight muscle.

I couldn’t breathe, Harry. You were so close, your breath warm against my neck. For a split second, I thought if I just turned my head, I could kiss you.

I’ll never forget that moment for as long as I live. Even if you do.

. . .

Now — 2000

Dylan and Harry were in their dorm room, preparing for the party. Harry stood in front of the mirror, anxiously gelling his hair back.

“I think I’m going to do it,” Harry said suddenly, turning to face Dylan. “I’m going to go all the way with Y/N.”

Dylan froze, his heart sinking. He lit a cigarette, trying to appear nonchalant as he perched on the windowsill. “Really? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” His voice betrayed him, tinged with irritation and jealousy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m just saying, are you sure it’s the right time to sleep with her? After... what happened?”

Harry’s expression darkened. “Nothing happened. It was a mistake.”

“You keep saying that,” Dylan said, standing now, his voice rising. “Like you’re trying to gaslight me into thinking I imagined it. But I’ve imagined kissing you enough times to know what’s real and what’s not.”

Harry’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching. “I was drunk, and you took advantage of me.”

The words hit Dylan like a slap, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Don’t try that with me, Harry. It might work in your petty arguments with Y/N, but it won’t work on me. You’re the one twisting the truth to fit your narrative.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Harry snapped. “I only care about Y/N. And if you can’t handle that, maybe you need to step away—from both of us.”

“Step away?” Dylan said incredulously, his voice breaking. “You want me to walk away from the only two people who’ve ever cared about me? You want me to walk away from you?”

Harry hesitated, guilt flickering across his face. “You know how I feel about Y/N. I love her. I’m in love with her. Even if I felt something for you, it would never compare.”

“You’re lying,” Dylan whispered, his eyes glassy. “If you loved her so much, you wouldn’t have kissed me in the first place.”

“You don’t know anything!” Harry exploded, his voice shaking with fury. “Do you know what would happen if someone found out? What it would do to Y/N? To us? I felt nothing! It was a mistake!”

“Harry—”

“No,” Harry cut him off. “Whatever feelings you have, whatever intentions, you need to get over them.”

“That’s not as easy as you think—”

“You have to.” Harry’s voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. Dylan stared at him, shattered, as Harry turned and stormed out.

He left Dylan standing there, broken, feeling like Harry had taken his very soul with him.

. . .

Then — 1999

Dear Harry,

We’ve been assigned as partners in media class, and now we have to make a music video. Naturally, you asked Y/N if she’d star in it. You told her she was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and that she’d be perfect for it. She blushed, of course, and said yes. Then you kissed her—so long and so deeply that I had to look away.

I imagined myself in her place, wondering what it would be like to kiss you in public, to have the world see how much I adored you. If it were allowed, I don’t think I’d ever stop kissing you.

Today, we filmed the music video. You wanted it to feel like a coming-of-age story. I’d wanted something more abstract, but I agreed to your ideas, nodding eagerly at every suggestion, whether it was brilliant or terrible.

We filmed in the gardens—my least favorite place in the entire school. That’s where you kissed Y/N for the first time, and if I could erase that night from my memory, I would in a heartbeat.

The sun was shining as you whispered into Y/N’s ear while I set up the camera. I tried to block out the sound of your laughter, the sight of her hand on your shoulder.

“Are we ready?” I called, my voice louder than I intended. You straightened up immediately.

“Dylan, why don’t you be in the video with me?” Y/N smiled warmly. She had that rare ability to make everyone feel seen, like she was radiating sunshine. It was impossible not to smile back.

“My darling, you know I’m not nearly as perfect as you,” I teased, watching her blush.

I don’t even remember when I started calling her “my darling.” The first time, I remember catching the flash of jealousy in your eyes. I liked that. I liked seeing you react to me, even if it wasn’t in the way I wanted. You’re used to it now, but sometimes, when I say it, I still see a flicker of something in your gaze.

The music video took all day to shoot. Every time Y/N nailed a scene, you rewarded her with a kiss. I worked hard too, Harry. Shouldn’t I have been rewarded in some way?

When Y/N left for her library shift that evening, it was just the two of us. You wanted to capture the soft glow of the sunset, so we stayed behind to get more footage.

“My mother wants me to go into politics,” you said as we sat cross-legged on the grass, the camera between us. “But I’d love to do this—be a director. I’ve always wanted to be an artist of some kind. It’s a silly dream, but I think about it all the time.”

I could imagine it. You had a way of leading people, commanding attention without being arrogant. You cared so deeply—for the art, for the people—that it would probably destroy you someday.

“It’s not silly,” I said. “It’s never silly to dream. My God, Harry, we only live once. Might as well do everything we can to feel something in the little time we have.”

You looked at me then, really looked at me. For the first time, I thought you might be feeling a fraction of what I felt every day. “I’ve never told anyone that before. Not even Y/N knows.”

“It’ll be our secret,” I whispered. And for a moment, I could’ve sworn you glanced at my lips.

Then, just as quickly, you diverted the topic. Grabbing the camera, you aimed it at me lying in the grass. “Looks like Y/N’s not the only model anymore,” you teased.

I tried to act indifferent, but I would’ve stayed there all night if it meant seeing you laugh like that.

It makes me wonder, Harry—do you know how much power you have over your friends? Do you know that you have two people who worship the ground you walk on? How does it feel to be desired? How does it feel to have a choice in who you love?

. . .

Now — 2000

“You’re here!” Y/N beamed, running into Harry’s arms and wrapping her hands around his neck.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured, kissing her temple before setting her down.

The party was already in full swing. Students from across campus had crammed into Ellis’ dorm, the air thick with music, laughter, and the faint smell of alcohol.

“Hi, Dylan,” Y/N greeted, pulling him into a tight hug. “You’re dressed pretty smart. Planning on impressing anyone tonight?”

“Only you, darling,” Dylan replied, forcing a wink and a smirk despite the ache in his chest. Harry’s words from earlier still rang in his ears, but he pushed them aside.

Harry’s eyes darted to the cup in Y/N’s hand. “Have you been drinking?” he asked, his tone light but concerned.

“It’s water,” she whispered with a smile. Harry relaxed. She wasn’t much of a drinker, and he knew that.

“You look so pretty,” he said, marvelling at her dress. It was the one she wore for special occasions—one he had once told her was his favourite. A pang of guilt pricked at his heart as she looked back at him, her doe eyes filled with love.

“Come dance with me!” she said, pulling him toward the living room. “Both of you! My boys!”

Harry and Dylan followed her to the dance floor. The song Love My Way blared through the speakers, and Y/N moved between them, carefree and radiant.

At first, Harry danced with her, his focus entirely on Y/N. But then his gaze shifted to Dylan, who was swaying along with the music. Something unspoken passed between them, an invisible thread pulling them closer.

Harry laughed when Dylan moved towards him and for a moment they had forgotten everything around them. Dylan was just Dylan and Harry was just Harry, two boys who felt something they weren’t allowed to feel in the eyes of everyone else.

Harry was so close, their faces almost touching and for a moment Dylan thought they might kiss. But the blissful moment was broken as Harry stepped away, shaking his head, “N-No.” He whispered, “No, No, No.” He shook his head, his eyes frantic in search of Y/N.

“O-Oh, Harry,” Y/N yelped as he grabbed hold of her hand and lead her out of Ellis’ dorm and over to her own, three doors down from where the party was happening.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?” She cups his face in her hands and he exhales, trying to regain composure. This was the girl he loved, the only girl he could ever love and being in her hands felt like home. Didn’t it?

“Y-Y/N, I-I think I’m ready.” He presses his forehead against hers, kissing her bottom lip. “I’m ready.”

Her lips part in shock. She hadn’t been expecting this tonight and she wasn’t sure where Harry’s sudden desperation was coming from. He kissed down her neck as she tried to speak to him, “H-Harry, a-are you sure?” He nodded, his mouth leaving open mouthed kisses on her shoulder.

“I love you Y/N.” He looked into her eyes and she saw the sincerity behind them but also a hint of something else that she couldn’t quite place.

He started to peel her clothing off, his fingertips gently brushing against her soft skin. She tried to steady her breathing but her chest caved in and out as the oxygen in the room seemed to be escaping as he moved down her body. “Harry,” She whispered and he could hear the desperation in her voice. She reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers together.

Y/N was stripped down to her bra and underwear. This was the most skin she had revealed to anybody but she trusted Harry with everything in her, he was her best friend. He blew warm air over the thin material of her bra and her nipples hardened, an overwhelming sense of desire and lust flooding her insides. It was so new and overwhelming, her hands shaking as she ran her fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots.

“Baby,” He whispered, his hands cupping her thighs as he pressed kisses down her body.

“Harry, wait.” She murmured, his eyes looking up from where he was laying between her legs, “You’re still dressed.” She sat up and tugged on the hem of his sweater.

He laughed softly, as she struggled to pull the sweater over his head. She marvelled at the sound and kissed the tip of his nose. He pulled her onto his lap and she grinded her hips against his, “God look at you.” He whispered. “Don’t leave me Y/N. You can never leave me.”

“I’m never going to.” She said it like it was a promise.

His hands hooked the straps of her bra and he gently pulled them down, her breath hitching as the pad of his thumb brushed against the side of her breast. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in tightly, his face burying into the crook of her neck as he inhaled her.

This was going to be perfect, she thought, nothing could go wrong.

She grinded her hips against him again, a groan eliciting from his lip and a name escaping past the lips he had kissed her with so many times.

“Dylan.” Y/N froze. Her blood ran cold, and she pulled away as though Harry’s touch burned her.

“What did you say?” She pulled away, suddenly being naked in front of him didn’t feel right, being in a space alone with him didn’t feel right, everything she had ever felt for him before this moment didn’t feel right.

“Y/N,” He reached for her but she slipped away from him, slipped out of his touch, a touch she begged for just moments ago.

Harry’s heart no longer existed, wherever it was it had abandoned him and left him here in this terrible moment to fend for himself. He felt his eyes well up with tears as he watched Y/N try to pick up her discarded clothes. This wasn’t how it was meant to be, she was suppose to be picking up his clothes after a night making love to each other.

“Y-You said his name.” Y/N whimpered, she was panicking and Harry could do nothing but watch.

“Baby I-”

“NO.” She spat, “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.”

Harry watched as she turned around and clutched at her head, her knees buckling as she fell to the ground. She sobbed and sobbed, his hear wrenching at the sound of it. He had never heard a sound so painful in his life and he wanted to die in this very moment.

“No, No, No, No.” She sobbed, her shoulders shaking.

“Y/N please just let me explain.” Harry tried, crouching down in front of her and trying to place a hand on her now clothed shoulder.

“NO.” She pushed him away and leaped back, her back hitting the wall.

Harry was broken. He was truly broken. This was something well out of his reach in fixing and nothing he could do or say could make up for the fact that he had hurt the two people he loved and cherished the most in this world, in the span of one night.

“Get out of my room!” She began to scream, “Get out of here!”

A knock at the door shattered the silence.

“Hey, you guys in there?” Dylan’s voice called from the hallway.

Before Harry could respond, Y/N lunged for the door, anger blazing in her eyes.

“Get out of my room!” she screamed, her voice raw with betrayal.

Harry caught her before she reached Dylan, her fists pounding against his chest. “I’m broken,” she whimpered, her strength fading. “You broke me.”

And for the first time, Harry knew what it felt like to be utterly powerless.

. . .

Then — 2000

Dear Diary,

You know those secrets so big they feel like they could swallow you whole? The kind you promise never to tell a soul for as long as you live? At first, they consume you, taking over every thought and breath. But over time, they settle into the corners of your mind, a quiet part of you that only stirs when something triggers it.

Well, today I made one of those secrets.

It was a Tuesday, the day I volunteer in the library after school. There’s something peaceful about wandering the empty halls when no one else is around—a stark contrast to the chaos between periods. Mrs. Ableton asked me to deliver a stack of books to the English Literature cupboard. Our copies of The Catcher in the Rye were practically falling apart, so we’d ordered replacements.

As I walked through the hall, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye near the classroom where Harry and I have English together. Curious, I paused, almost dropping the books in my hands.

Harry was leaning against a desk, and Dylan stood in front of him. At first, I thought nothing of it and smiled, reaching for the door handle to make myself known. But then Dylan stepped closer, touched Harry’s hand, and kissed him.

I froze.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The same lips that had kissed mine were now kissing the lips of my best friend.

I wanted to cry, but I was too shocked to do anything but stand there, watching. A part of me hoped I was trapped in a nightmare—that I’d wake up, call Harry, and laugh about how silly it all was. But when Dylan pulled back, Harry grabbed his arm and kissed him again.

That time, I couldn’t watch.

I backed away, the tears finally falling. My mind raced as I searched for somewhere—anywhere—I could cry louder, scream even, because this wasn’t something I could cry about quietly.

Harry was mine. But he was also Dylan’s.

By the time I went to bed, I’d convinced myself I would confront them. I’d tell them I saw what happened and ask if we could move on, pretend it never happened. But as the hours stretched on, I realized I didn’t want to speak about it. Talking about it would mean reliving it, over and over.

I didn’t want to remember.

I just wanted Harry.

So, this is a secret I’ll take to my grave. I’ll never tell a soul I watched Harry kiss Dylan in a way he never kissed me.

Even if it breaks me.

. . .

Now — 2000

“What happened?” Dylan asked. They were back in his dorm now, Harry pacing the room like a caged animal.

“She knows,” Harry muttered, his fingers pulling at his hair—a habit whenever he was upset. “She knows about us, what we did.”

Dylan collapsed onto the bed, his face pale. “How?”

Harry stopped and turned to him, shame written all over his face. “I said your name.”

Dylan’s shoulders sagged, and he buried his face in his hands. Images of Y/N, broken and sobbing on her bedroom floor, flashed through his mind. She had begged them to fix her, but they were the ones who broke her.

“It’s fine,” Harry rambled, his voice shaking. “I-I’ll give her some time, however long she needs. Then I’ll explain. I’ll explain it was a misunderstanding.”

“Harry,” Dylan said gently, standing to take Harry’s hands in his own. “I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for Y/N to get over this.”

Harry’s breath hitched, and a sob escaped him as he crumpled into Dylan’s arms. Dylan ran his fingers through Harry’s hair, resting his cheek against Harry’s head. “It’s okay, love,” he whispered. “Everything will be alright.”

“I hurt her so bad, Dylan,” Harry cried. “I love her, and I hurt her.”

“She was always going to find out,” Dylan said softly, the truth cutting deeper than any lie.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” Harry whispered.

Dylan sighed. “Why do you always talk about how things are meant to be? You act like your life was mapped out before you left the womb. Was it ‘meant to be’ that the three of us became inseparable? That you fell in love with both of us because you care so deeply? That I fell in love with you because you see art in everything? None of this was ‘meant to be,’ Harry. It just happened. And now we deal with it.”

Harry pulled back, tears streaking his face. “You still love me? Even after I pushed you away?”

Dylan smiled sadly, wiping a tear from Harry’s cheek. “I love you despite everything.”

Harry’s lips ghosted over Dylan’s, and for a moment, it felt like all their pain had been lifted. “Dylan,” Harry whispered, his voice trembling as he said the name again and again, like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

“You can say my name as much as you want, love,” Dylan murmured. “I’ll always be here.”

. . .

Three weeks passed and the friends were no longer talking to each other, instead they acted as though they didn’t know each other as they passed each other in the hallway.

Harry had to try and not flinch when he saw Y/N scurry pass him, her eyes red and bloodshot as Ellis comforted her, glaring at Harry as they did. He wanted to speak to her but he was never given the chance to, rightly so considering what he had done to her.

Dylan and Harry, mostly Harry, thought it would best to keep their distance for a while. It killed them both to not be around each other but for the sake of their friendship with Y/N, they shared small moments of brief eye contact and touches throughout the day. Neither of them knew what was to come for the both of them but this limbo was enough for now.

Dylan ate lunch alone and as he did, he listened to the conversations of everyone around him. He wondered what it felt like for them to go about their day feeling like they belong in their own skin and not feel ashamed over who they love. He had never felt so alienated and so out of touch with himself.

He had been given an after school detention for an hour with Mr Henley after calling him sexist in front of the class. No one was around when he left the classroom until he saw a group of girls walking across the field.

At the end of the line was Y/N, wearing her netball uniform.

She must have caught sight of him because the next thing he knew, she was walking up to him. He had to check behind him to see he was seeing correctly.

“Hi Dylan,” She keeps her distance for reasons unknown to him but being around her again made him relax, he missed the friendship he shared right at the very beginning when they were thirteen and picking each other up from class to go to the sweet shop after school.

“Hey Y/N.” He offers her a smile.

“How are you doing?” He didn’t miss the way she gripped her bag like she was trying to stop herself from saying anything she really wanted to.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” Y/N huffs, “I’ve had better days.” “Y/N-”

“Just tell me this,” She starts, “H-How long?”

Dylan decided he would be as honest and as straight to the point as he could be, it was what she deserved at least.

“Y/N the only thing we did was kiss one time. Harry stopped it because he’s in love with you.”

“And you’re in love with him.”

“Y-Yes.”

Y/N laughs incredulously, “We could never just be three best friends could we? It was always going to be complicated.”

“We could still be best friends Y/N.”

“But it’s not the same now is it?” She bit back and Dylan realised he needed to be careful with what he said. “Is he sad?”

“Terribly. Sometimes I hear him crying in his room at night.”

A silence fell between them which was strange. Y/N and Dylan has always had a brother-sister relationship, Dylan was always one to tease Y/N and make her laugh but right now it seemed all he was doing was making her upset.

“I’m moving schools.” Y/N confessed, “At the end of the term, I’m moving to Bridgewater. Mum’s moving in with her fiancee, and she wants me to be closer.”

“When were you going to tell us?” Dylan was shocked.

“I was given the choice. I could stay here or move to another school but if I stayed I’d have to stay at my dad’s during the holidays and I’m not in the mood to be lectured during my time away from school.”

Dylan didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t fathom the three of them not being together for such a long period of time. “I know what you’re thinking. I know I need to tell him but if we are going to have a shot at being friends again, I need to be away from you both.”

“Y/N,” Dylan shakes his head, “It doesn’t have to be like this,”

“You know I saw you when you kissed each other in the English Literature classroom?” She confessed, Dylan’s lips parting. “He kissed you in a way that he never kissed me. Everytime we kissed afterwards all I could think about was how different it was, how I desperately wanted him to kiss me the way I had seen him kiss you. I used to write in my diary about how I would die if I didn’t have him near me. I thought he would be the end of me but I didn’t realise you would be too.”

“I know he loves you Dylan and... I’m happy for you but I’m not selfless enough to stand beside you both and watch you fall in love when I so desperately love him too.”

“Y/N,” Dylan reaches out for her hand and takes it, “I’m sorry.” “I know Dylan, I know.”

. . .

Now — 2000

Harry’s leg wouldn’t stop jittering as he sat outside the school library on a Tuesday evening. He’d been waiting for this moment for weeks, replaying it over and over in his mind. He had spent countless hours rehearsing his apology to Y/N until it became a permanent loop in his thoughts.

When the library door swung open, he shot up immediately, brushing down his school trousers and running a hand through his hair. Y/N stepped out, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and her backpack slung over her shoulder.

She looked better than she had in weeks, and Harry’s heart ached at the sight of her. He would have carried her bag for her if they were still together.

Her expression changed when she saw him, her voice barely above a whisper. “H-Harry.”

“I came,” he said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I-I couldn’t believe it when I got your text. I’d have waited here for hours if you hadn’t shown up.”

Her face softened briefly, but she walked past him. “Follow me,” she said simply.

He trailed behind her as she led him to the gardens—the place where they’d shared their first kiss and filmed the music video for his and Dylan’s project. It was a space filled with memories of the three of them: Y/N doing homework, Dylan reading, and Harry strumming his guitar.

They sat down on the swinging bench, a familiar seat now heavy with unspoken tension. Harry noticed she kept her distance, and though every fiber of his being wanted to pull her close, he knew it wasn’t the right time.

“Who gave you those?” Harry finally asked, nodding at the flowers in her hand. A flicker of hope crossed his face.

“Debbie,” she said, referring to the school librarian. “It’s my last day working at the library.”

“You quit?” Harry frowned, his gaze flicking from the flowers to her face.

Y/N inhaled deeply before speaking. “I’m leaving, Harry.”

The wind seemed to leave him. “N-No,” he stammered, shaking his head. “You—you can’t. You can’t just leave. I won’t let you—”

“Harry,” she interrupted, reaching for his hand and holding it gently in her lap. “It’s what’s best.”

“How can you say that?” he asked, trying to pull his hand away, though her warmth made it impossible. “How can you say it’s what’s best? The three of us—we’re supposed to be together.”

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” Her eyes glistened with unshed tears as she looked at him. He looked thinner, more tired than she’d ever seen him, but she couldn’t help him—not anymore.

“Y/N, the thing with Dylan...” Harry began, his voice cracking. “I-I never meant for it to happen. We were just alone, I was stressed, and my emotions got the better of me. But I don’t feel the same way about him as I do about you.”

She shook her head softly. “Maybe that’s true, but not in the way you think. Dylan has always been there for you, Harry, in ways I never could. The way you look at him... it’s like he hung the stars in the sky just for you, like he tilted the sun so it would never blind you but still brighten your world.

“Maybe you do love me,” she continued, her voice trembling, “but love isn’t just about taking care of someone. It’s not carrying my backpack because it’s too heavy or doing my homework when I’m too tired after netball. Love is about being vulnerable. It’s about being taken care of, about laughing and crying and feeling like your heart is burning, and nothing can put it out.

“Now tell me, Harry. Did you ever feel that way with me? Were you ever vulnerable with me?”

Harry’s heart cracked. He opened his mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words.

“Please, Y/N,�� he whimpered, his voice breaking. “I can’t be without you.”

“You have Dylan,” she said, trying to be the bigger person even though it shattered her inside. “It was never going to be me, Harry. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have feelings for him?”

Harry looked down at the ground, his silence all the confirmation she needed.

Her heart broke all over again, but she forced herself to stay strong. “Why do you have to go?” he asked, tears streaming down his face.

“Because, Harry,” she said gently, “what good would it do for the three of us if I stayed? You need to find out who you are, and so do I. Before me, it was you and Dylan. Now, it will end that way - with you and Dylan.”

“And what about you?” he asked desperately. “What will you do? Where will you go?”

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “But I’m grateful for what I’ve had. You and Dylan will always be a part of me. I hope one day we’ll forget this pain, and everything will be okay again.”

She reached out, brushing his hair back the way she used to. “I love you, Harry. I love you so much, I feel like I could burst.”

“I love you too,” he murmured. For the first time, he meant it in a way that felt true—not as a lover, but as a best friend.

“Be brave,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And tell him you love him.”

Harry nodded as the tears fell freely, clinging to her like a child who didn’t want to let go.

She was going to love him forever. She now knew he wouldn’t.

. . .

“She’s gone,” Dylan said softly from the doorway of Harry’s bedroom.

Harry sat at his desk, a pen still in his hand though it hovered, unmoving, above the page. “Was she alright?” he murmured.

“She was better than we probably thought,” Dylan admitted, realizing how much they’d underestimated Y/N’s strength. They’d always thought it was their job to protect her, but she’d always been stronger than the two of them combined.

“Right,” Harry muttered, his voice hollow.

Dylan moved to sit on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight. “I was thinking we could have the leftover soup for dinner instead of going to the dining hall.”

“I’m not hungry,” Harry replied—a rare admission from someone who was always hungry.

Dylan frowned. “How long are you going to wallow in this? Can’t you see we’re both trying to do the right thing for your benefit?”

Harry turned to him, anger flashing in his eyes. “And what exactly are you doing?”

“I’ve been keeping my distance,” Dylan snapped. “Acting like we’re strangers when we’re the complete opposite. Do you know how much it kills me to not be near you? To have to hide from myself?”

Harry stood abruptly. “And you think I’m not struggling? You think I haven’t been grappling with everything I feel?”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit!” Dylan shouted, standing to meet Harry’s gaze. “You had someone who loved you for two whole years. You have everything, Harry—loving parents, the best grades, popularity. And you act like it’s all been taken from you because I kissed you!”

“Y/N is gone because of us!” Harry yelled back.

“No,” Dylan said fiercely, his voice rising. “She’s gone because of you! Because you’re too afraid to be honest about who you are! Because you care too much about what everyone else thinks. That’s why she’s gone!”

Their faces were inches apart, their anger radiating in the small space between them.

“How dare you? Can’t you see this is difficult for me to accept?” Harry shouted, his voice trembling with anger and frustration.

“What is?” Dylan snapped back, stepping closer. “What is so difficult, Harry? What’s so hard that you have to sit in the dark and ignore the only two people who’ve ever truly cared about you? Huh? What is it? Tell me. TELL ME.”

“I am in love with you!” Harry yelled, the words ripping out of him like they had been clawing to escape for years. “I am a fool, and I am in love with you.”

Dylan froze, stunned. His breath caught in his throat as the weight of Harry’s confession settled over him. The words he had dreamed of hearing for years hung in the air between them, impossible to ignore.

“What?” Dylan managed, his voice barely a whisper.

“I have loved you since the moment I met you,” Harry said, his voice softer now but no less raw. “And it’s been killing me every day since. I think of you—daily, nightly, every moment in between—and it tears me apart. Kissing you was the bravest thing I’ve ever done, and denying it afterward made me a coward. But here I am now, standing in front of you, a man stupidly, hopelessly in love with his best friend.”

Harry’s eyes were red and glassy, the weight of years of unspoken emotion etched into his every feature.

Dylan stared at him, speechless. He had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was real, the depth of Harry’s vulnerability left him breathless.

“Kiss me,” Dylan whispered, his voice breaking. “Kiss me.”

Harry didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, cupping Dylan’s face in his hands as though it had been crafted to fit perfectly in his palms. Then he kissed him—fervent and unrestrained, pouring every ounce of his love and longing into that singular moment.

Dylan’s world ignited. A piece of him that had been dormant for years finally came alive. His heart and mind, long at odds, now burned in harmony as Harry’s lips moved against his. He felt consumed, but in the most beautiful way, as if he could lose himself in Harry forever and never once regret it.

“I love you too, Harry,” Dylan whispered when they finally parted, their foreheads resting together.

“I bloody well hope so,” Harry murmured, a small laugh escaping his lips as tears spilled down his cheeks.

. . .

Now

Dear Harry,

I’d like to tell you a story that will more than likely make you happy.

One day, I was sat in a café, only a twenty-minute walk away from Southend Park School, which is closed down now and turned into a factory to fix airplanes. I bought my usual order of a decaf cappuccino and a slice of toffee apple cake. On this particular day, they added more sugar to my cappuccino, so I knew it would be a good day.

Across from me, a woman sat, her dog lying down at her feet as she read The Catcher in the Rye whilst sipping on a fruit tea. I didn’t think much of it, but I found it interesting the way she would read something and then shakily jot something down in the little notebook on the table.

Anyway, I had originally come to the café so I could write about our trip to Brighton. You were still complaining about the sand in your clothes just last night despite the fact that Brighton has no sand.

“It’s alright, love,” I comforted you, helping you put your pyjamas on.

“It bothers me, Dylan.” You responded, coughing into your handkerchief.

We don’t leave our small bungalow very often because you don’t like to leave the dogs and I don’t like change, but this trip to Brighton was one we had been planning for a year or so, so we didn’t really have much choice in the matter.

We spent a lot of time sat on the beach in the evenings whilst we were there, a blanket wrapped around the both of us as we fed the seagulls. I remember you saying you liked the sound of the ocean because it made you feel like we were seventeen again, running into the ocean without a care in the world.

You then proceeded to mention how worried you are about our Y/N, “I hope she’s doing alright, our Y/N.” You said and then went back to talking about a programme you watched the night before.

You had always worried about Y/N in the years after she left, always asking where she was or what she was up to despite the fact we never got in contact with her again. I also wonder whether or not she is okay, and I knew that if I were to see her again, I would thank her for allowing us the space to fall in love.

It was awfully difficult those months after we kissed in your bedroom. We were constantly berated by people we had never spoken to before, and I knew it bothered you for a while, but we overcame it just like we did every other obstacle in our lives... together.

Anyway, as I continued to write about our trip, the door to the café opened again and three middle-aged people walked over to the elderly lady in the corner. “Come on Mum, we’ve got to say goodbye to Dad now,” the man spoke to her, and she swatted him away. Something about that small action gave me a strong sense of déjà vu.

“Give me a moment,” the woman responded, and the three children sat at the table in the chairs around her.

Eventually, they managed to get her standing up. One of them placed her coat around her shoulders, and another handed her her walking stick. When she turned to look at me, I saw a familiar set of eyes looking straight at me.

The three people aiding her walked to the door and held it open for her. As she was about to step out the door, her walking stick fell out of her shaky hands and right at my feet. I quickly picked it up and handed it to her, her face brightening at the sight of me.

“Thank you.” Her voice still sounded the same all that time ago.

“No... Thank you, my darling.”

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel becomes insecure with his age difference and breaks up with you rudely, only to find out you become depressed after an assault.]

TRIGGER WARNING: SA

“Look, who cares? Hey, maybe if I wasn’t sucha immature party girl that would’ve never happened to me” you turned looking at him straight in the eyes.

“Don’t you say that” he whispered feeling regret with what he had told you that day.

smut, angst, big age gap

It was the end of your shift as you waited for Joel to pick you up. The restaurant seemed to slow down at the perfect time for you to catch a movie with him. Joking with two of your coworkers you had no idea Joel was watching from outside the window. Once again Sammy was having a party and desperately wanted you to attend although you promised Joel something simple that night. Just as you gently let her down, Joel approached you leaning in for a kiss.

“Hi babe,” you smiled up at him.

“Joel, can you please convince your girlfriend to come to my party tonight?”

“Don’t listen to her, I already told her we had plans.” You explained.

“Another party huh?” He raised his brows as Sammy tried to hold back a laugh.

“Sorry Joel, are we partying too much for you?” Sammy joked with her boyfriend Josh making you playfully hit her shoulder.

“Ouch! just a joke, see you guys around” she laughed as Joel took your hand and walked out with you.

“Sorry about that, Sammy can be-“

“Annoying” he interjected making you raise a brow at him.

“Does she ever not throw a party?” He looked down at you as you both continued to walk. Joel was acting strange, he seemed to be more agitated than usual but you didn’t say a word about it.

“We don’t have to go-“

“But I know you want to” he looked over at you to confirm what he figured to be true.

“No” you stopped in your tracks turning to him.

“I can go any other time, I just want us to spend time” you assured him before tip toeing and kissing his lips.

The two of you had been dating a few months now, although you were in college and Joel was much older, you felt you had a balanced relationship.

Joel thought the same…until recently.

Little by little he noticed your friends were constantly inviting you to parties, or even if they weren’t partying whenever they had a conversation with you in front of him he felt out of place. The two of you alone was a different story, you could both talk for hours about so many different things. Sharing the same interests in movies, he loved taking you out to see one or having a movie night at your place. More than anything he loved how towards the end of the movie you always ended up straddling him holding him close. He’d carry you to the bed, your lips locked together as a night of intense sex would begin. Regardless of how experienced he was, sex with you was like no other. Although you were younger you loved taking charge and riding him and he loved your confidence. He loved watching the way you moved your hips on him, especially in that moment. His hands squeezed your thighs as he looked down watching you drip all over his cock. Throwing his head back you could see the vein in his neck popping out, you could always tell when he was about to cum.

“Shit” he cried out, sweat dripping down his head as as you rode him faster. Your hands leaning on his chest for support until you both came simultaneously. You moaned before throwing yourself back beside him, he could barely catch his breath.

“You’re really something else you know that?” He panted closing his eyes for a moment.

“Am I?” You laughed leaning over to kiss him before running off to the bathroom.

Once you walked out you noticed him sitting at the edge of the bed hunched over with just his pants on.

“You ok?” You asked tying your robe around you.

“Yeah, just wiped me out” he chuckled as he stood up and grabbed his t shirt.

“I’m sorry” you laughed.

“Don’t be.” He winked at you but you could see something still seemed off with him. For some reason he just couldn’t shake off the feeling of not keeping up with you. He silently walked out of the room to grab a cup of water but the silence didn’t feel right.

Joel stood in the kitchen drinking the glass of water, his thoughts roaming all over.

“Joel?” You followed him to the kitchen looking at him strangely.

“What’s going on with you?”

Placing the cup down he crossed his arms not really knowing how to say what he truly wanted to say. You hated how stubborn he could be at times to speak. He knew whatever he’d tell you, somehow you’d find a way to work around it, and as much as he didn’t want to break up, he was beginning to think it was the best decision. It was better than him constantly feeling like he couldn’t keep up with you.

“Joel are you going to talk or what-“

“This is a mistake” he blurt out looking down.

“What? What are you talking about?” You walked towards him completely caught off guard.

“This, us, it should’ve…should’ve never happened” his words feeling like a punch to your heart.

“Joel, where is this coming from? Don’t take personal what Sammy said”

“This isn’t about your friend dammit,“ he responded rudely. Maybe that was the only way you’d get it.

“So what is this about? Cause about twenty minutes ago you didn’t seem to have a problem with me” You clearly started to get annoyed with his tone but he couldn’t explain to you what he was really feeling. Irritated he grabbed his jacket heading for the door.

“So you’re walking off now? Just like that” you followed him.

“Go have fun with your friends tonight,”

“This is about the party?! Are you kidding me, I already told you I didn’t wanna go-“

“Look” he suddenly stopped and turned to your face.

“You don’t get it, you’re a damn kid. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Go be the party girl you are” before you could say a thing he walked out slamming the door shut.

“Joel!”

What the hell just happened?

Joel hopped in his truck fighting himself not to turn back. The sound of your voice calling out for him crushed him in a way he didn’t know he could feel. He wasn’t planning to do this, he didn’t think he would. Joel felt something special with you, but before he felt it would fall apart cause of his age, he decided to cut it now unexpectedly.

That night you cried calling your friend Sammy to pick you up. You couldn’t believe Joel had really broken up with you but you decided to hell with it.

The second you got to Sammy’s party you poured yourself drink after drink just wanting to forget about him. You found yourself dancing with a man, never even getting his name but you noticed how touchy he became as you danced.

“Watch it, honey” you squinted your eyes at him with a smirk as he stepped back lifting his hands up.

“Sorry gorgeous” he leaned towards your ear to speak.

He was a handsome man with a nice smile, and when he wasn’t grabbing your ass he knew how to dance. For a short moment you found yourself not thinking of Joel.

As the night continued, you had a few more drinks than what your body was used to. Sammy and Josh both cheering you on watching you have fun as you continued to dance.

“I gotta use the ladies room!” You yelled in his ear as he nodded. The man watched as you slightly stumbled up the stairs, fumbling with the doorknob to get in the bathroom, he could tell how wasted you were.

Once you were finished you almost fell opening the bathroom door to find that same man at the door.

“Oh hey” you grinned until he grabbed you by your waist, abruptly kissing your neck pushing you back in the bathroom.

“Wait-“ you attempted to laugh it off trying to push him away until you realized he shut the door behind him.

“Come on, let’s have some fun”

“Hey…I…I don’t wanna do this” you tried once again pushing him back but he grabbed you hard lifting you up and sitting you right on the sink. His hand making it’s way under your dress, you knew exactly what he was doing and panic set in.

The loud music blasting throughout the house distracting everyone from anything that could be going wrong. Sammy at one point looking around for you and even calling your phone.

“She never leaves like that” Sammy told Josh as she looked through the crowd.

“Maybe she’s having fun with that guy” Josh laughed but Sammy thought something was weird. You would never leave with a man or at all without saying something to her. As Sammy checked the kitchen the man had finished his assault, walking out the bathroom Josh caught him buckling his pants.

“Hey, where’s the girl you were dancing with?” Josh asked him but he didn’t say a word quickly walking out the front door.

Sitting on the corner of the bathroom floor, you couldn’t move. You could hear Josh and Sammy calling for you until Josh finally walked in the bathroom.

“Holy Shit- Sammy she’s in here!” The two of them rushing to your side, fixing your dress asking if you were ok but you couldn’t speak.

“I’m gonna call the police” Sam knew what happened, it was obvious but you quickly looked at her and shook your head with whatever strength you had.

“No. No one. Just…just drive me home please” you whispered. Sammy nodded in silence quickly ending the party to make sure you were ok. Although she had offered for you to stay, being near where you were assaulted made your stomach turn.

Joel stood at home that night watching a movie not being able to get you off his mind. He wondered what you were doing, he wondered if you ever went to that party but most of all he wondered if he made the right call.

Josh and Sammy silently helped you to the car and drove you home. Offering to stay with you, you refused any company, you refused anything they tried to help with. Although you both were broken up, Sammy wondered if she should find Joel and let him know what had happened yet she knew nothing of him.

The next day you stayed in bed, your phone buzzing through out the morning, calls from Sammy, Josh and you noticed one call from Joel. Ignoring each call you turned over in bed covering yourself just wanting to disappear from everyone.

A few days turned into weeks and no one had heard from you. Joel would still call, sometimes leaving you a voicemail, but hearing his voice would only make you burst into tears.

One day Joel finally decided to walk into the restaurant you worked at hoping to find you, instead he found Sammy.

“Joel, am I relieved to see you” she sighed as he walked up to her. She knew she had to tell him.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of her and she’s not answering. She quit working here, she stopped showing up to class and she’s just blocked us all out” Joel furrowed his brows.

“What do you mean she stopped showing up to class?” He knew how important this semester at college was for you.

“She just disappeared ever since that night”

“What night?”

“The night..the night at my party” she explained looking away nervously.

“What happened at your party? The hell you goin’ on about Sammy?” Joel heavily invested now not sure what to expect.

She swallowed nervously not sure how Joel would react to such news about you or more so how angry you would be at her for saying anything to him.

“The night at my party…um..I don’t even know how to say it” Sammy whispered as she scratched her forehead uncomfortably.

“Spit it out” Joel demanded now concerned with what the hell it could be.

“Joel, she was raped” she finally blurt out. Joel felt like a brick hit him in the chest, taking a step back he looked at her in shock. His lips tightening up, he took a deep trembling breath looking away. Sammy didn’t know him so well but she could see anger taking over him.

“I wanted to call you but I had no idea where to get in contact with you and-“

“Who did it?” He looked directly at her, speaking in a rough whisper making Sammy nervous.

“Joel, good to see you” Sams boyfriend Josh appeared before unexpectedly being grabbed by his collar, Joel roughly slammed him against the wall.

“Who touched her?! Who did it?”

“Hey man I don’t know, we never seen him before I swear-“

“What do you mean you never seen him before? It was your party!” He yelled.

“Joel! This doesn’t help anything, you wanna help? Go check on her!” Sammy yelled snapping Joel out of it. Slowly he released Josh as he took a step back.

He knew Sammy was right, the thought of you hurt in any way and not seeking help he couldn’t take.

The thought of him not being there he couldn’t take.

After weeks of not leaving the house you woke up that morning looking out the window, you could see the sun pushing through the clouds slowly. With a sigh you got yourself up and freshened yourself up for a walk around the block.

How bad could that be?

Opening up your front door you felt your heart begin to race but you pushed yourself out.

Walking around the corner you found yourself looking back more than you’d like to admit until you accidentally walked straight into someone.

“Shoot, I’m sorry” you looked up and realized it was Joel. Instantly noticing a look of pity in his deep brown eyes your expression changed.

You realized he knew.

“Shit, she told you” you turned away with a look of disgust walking back to your house.

“Why didn’t you call me?” He asked keeping up close behind you.

“For what?” You scoffed.

“You should’ve called me” he continued as you shook your head.

“Oh give me a break. We are no longer together, I was a mistake remember?” You called out back to him until he grabbed you by your arm forcing you to turn to him.

“I should’ve been there for you” his eyes were intense as he spoke.

“I would’ve been there” you didn’t say a word looking at him, his hand still tight around your wrist.

“It doesn’t matter” you pulled your arm away before heading to your door.

Of course it mattered.

You would’ve given anything to have Joel by your side that night. Tears welling up in your eyes as you placed your key in the lock trying to hold yourself together but you knew you couldn’t. The feel of Joel close behind you made you fall apart in that very second. Your hand dropping from the door you began to cry. Quickly covering your face you felt Joel gently hold you from behind.

“I’m here now” he whispered against your ear. Unexpectedly you turned to him wrapping your arms around him tightly as he tightened his arms around you. For just one moment you wanted to feel at ease.

“I’m here, baby” your cries slowed down as you took a deep breath, his hands gently tilting your face up to him.

“And for the record, you’re no damn mistake” he wiped away your tears with his thumb. You smiled at him just happy to have him close and invited him inside.

Joel quietly followed you in watching as you made your way to the kitchen, you knew there was bound to be more questions he would ask although you hoped he wouldn’t.

“Do you want something to drink or snack on? I don’t have much to eat, haven’t cooked. Just been ordering out lately” you explained without turning back to him.

“No, no thank you, baby” he leaned back on the counter watching as you grabbed something from the fridge. Truthfully Joel wanted to ask you more about that night. After a moment of silence his sudden question caught you off guard.

“What was his name?”

You closed the fridge and looked down taking a deep breath.

“I don’t know”

“Don’t protect him-“

“I don’t know” you turned to him abruptly.

“He was just some stupid guy I was dancing with, I never got his name, I don’t know anything about him” you walked away heading to your bedroom.

“I called you that night” he called out to you from down the hall, you could hear his footsteps getting closer.

“You also broke up with me that night-“

“It’s not something I wanted to do” he insisted.

“Look, who cares? Hey, maybe if I wasn’t sucha immature party girl that would’ve never happened to me” you turned looking at him straight in the eyes.

“Don’t you say that” he whispered feeling regret with what he had told you that day.

“Well, I was drinking” you shrugged with a sarcastic laugh, you didn’t notice his expression change.

“And so that gives that piece of shit the right to rape you?!” He raised his voice unexpectedly loud, you froze looking away.

“I’m sorry” he quickly apologized moving closer to you.

“Don’t be…that’s just the first time I’ve heard anyone call what happened to me..that.” The two of you stood silent for a moment until he slowly reached out for your hand.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, baby.” He pulled you close to him.

“I should’ve never walked out of here that day, I should’ve listened to myself and turned back. Leaving all because of my own damn insecurity” you could hear the regret in his voice.

“Insecurity?” You looked at him confused.

“Long story, c’mere-“ he wrapped your arms around his neck just wanting to hold you close and honestly, it was all you wanted to.

Joel felt you relax in his arms, slowly moving to the bed you both lay down with your head on his chest, you found yourself closing your eyes. Joel brushed his fingers through your hair softly as he looked down and saw you were asleep. As happy as he was to have you relaxed beside him, he couldn’t get out of his head wanting to find whoever this man was. Joel was set in his mind that he would, even if it meant keeping it from you.

[harrywavycurly]

How would Niall bring us up in an interview?😍

Hiii babes!!! Oh love this question, so I’m gonna go off of the bf Niall series I have going on to answer this! I did it as a conversation between Niall and an interviewer! I hope you enjoy💖

-find all thing Boyfriend Niall Horan here✨

A/N: Niall gets asked about a certain instagram post of yours that takes him on a spiral of how long has he actually been in love with you?✨

“So Niall before we let you go there’s just one thing that’s been eating at me…” “Oh? What’s that?” “Well…I noticed a certain caption of a photo of you on your…bestfriend’s instagram-” “why’d ya do the finger quotes when you said bestfriend? You don’t think she’s my bestfriend?” “I’m sure she is but..have you seen this photo?” “Let me see here…oh would you look at that?..she always gets the best shots of me doesn’t she? Now you’re saying the caption is what’s bothering you?” “Well read it to us and you tell us what it means.” “It says…oh god…it uh well it says…yup that’s my man right there…” “and that means?” “That means…I’m her man and…I’m right there with three beers in my hand and a smile on my face for those of you tuning in at home who can’t see this absolutely beautiful photo of me that my wonderful girlfriend posted…on the internet.” “So she is your girlfriend then?” “Yeah…has been for a few months now.” “But you two have known each other for a few years right?” “Uh yeah? I think like two years now…hit it off right away and pretty sure I fell in love with her the moment she called me an asshole like five minutes after we met…but that’s a story for another time.” “Wait wait wait…you’ve loved her since you met her but you’re only just now dating?” “I mean…I don’t mean I was really in love with her I just mean she kinda knocked me on my ass and turned my world upside down and like…yeah.” “It’s giving you’ve loved her this whole time Niall…” “god she’s gonna proper kick my ass now thanks to you…I mean yeah I guess I have always loved her? But I wasn’t ready to fall in love with her until recently because I just..I had shit to deal with and didn’t want to put her through that.” “So just being besties was fine for two years?” “Yeah because I just needed her in my life and I took what I could get.” “Did you two date other people during this time or no?” “Uh..well uhm-” “uh oh…did you date other people and she didn’t?” “She dated and I didn’t….her dating other people is what made me get my head outta my ass and tell her how I was feeling.” “We know that obviously went well.” “It ended up going well but like…I knew she felt the same way about me in the beginning when we first met…we had a conversation about it and that’s when I told her I’m not ready for anything close to a serious relationship and that’s why we decided to be friends…so I was terrified to tell her my feelings for her never went away they actually just got stronger because what if she didn’t feel anything for me anymore? I was proper panicking and then she just told me she felt the same way and that once again…I’m an asshole for making her wait so long but that she would’ve waited as long as I needed because she knows I’m it for her.” “Oh god…damn it Niall not you making me cry…that’s so sweet oh my god…” “sorry…I just..I could talk about her for ages and ages if I’m being honest…but yeah she’s my girlfriend and I uh I just love her even though she is the worst photographer in the world…and yes lover of mine since I know you’re listening…I mean it… the absolute worst.” “Thank you so much for jointing us today Niall! And thanks for telling us your love story…friends to lovers is my favorite trope.” “Thanks for having me…kinda felt like a therapy session towards the end there…gotta get all that sappy stuff off my chest…oh I’m an enemies to lovers kinda guy…I love good banter…but yeah thanks for having me and talk to you lovely lot later!”

Instagram Post Mentioned:

[stellabk]

FVRY OF THE FIRE

Part III

Hi! So I completely forgot to mention I was going to start by posting every other day since this time of year at work is CRAZY. I still hope all of you enjoy the story when I do post it, and yeah I think that’s all. Enjoy!

Summary - Deianira has sulked in her room in the days leading up to her wedding, worrying everyone of the court, her sister, and even the Emperor she is meant to marry.

Warning(s) - verbal abuse, shouting, throwing things, historical inaccuracy; please let me know if their are any warnings I missed or grammar mistakes

The few days leading up to the wedding, parties were held in the grand hall, though Deianira did not attend. She was sure that Emperor Geta would send soldiers to knock down the door and carry her there against her will, or maybe even would’ve done it himself, yet she still sat in her room, only leaving to go to the bathhouse with Aelia. Her sister had come to visit her the night she had not attended the first celebration, finding Deia in the bed unmoving. Publia instructed servants to bring her meals and told them she was ill.

Now, here she was yet again, lying in the plush bed with fresh, soft linens and looking up at the mosaic covered ceiling. Aelia entered, not even earning a startled jump from her mistress.

”I have brought your lunch, Empre- Deianira,” she corrected herself. Upon being told that Deia was ill—though even she knew she was well—she brought her breakfast and called her empress. Deia had stood to her feet and was shouting that she would never be empress, though she did apologize profusely to Aelia after realizing she was taking it all out on her only companion other than family.

“Leave it. I wish to be alone before I walk the aisle toward my demise,”

”Miss Deia, it can’t be all that bad. Being married to the emperor gives you so much freedom, your children shall be legitimate, and not to mention they will one day inherit the throne.”

”You wouldn’t understand, Lia, and I would not expect you to.”

Aelia sat on the bed, facing her future ruler. Her red hair appeared on fire in the sunlight that shone through. “It might surprise you just how much I understand.”

Deia looked at her, Aelia now noticing the puffiness of her eyes, so red they matched her hair.

“You know, malady, I was once married.” Aelia smiled at her hands resting in her lap, not noticing the shock on Deia’s face as she shot to sit up. “He was lovely. We were of no nobility, but I was given the liberty of choosing my own marriage. I had two beautiful sons as well.”

”What happened to them?” Deia grew closer to her companion, scooping up her hands in her own and holding them tightly.

”He was taken from me. I shall spare you the details, but he passed, and once my sons were of age, they wished to avenge their father. They were met with the same fate.”

Aelia wiped a stray tear, Deia still cradling her hands and stroking her knuckles in comfort.

”I should not burden a woman with such woe the night before she is to be married. Would you like to go to the bathhouse? We have new imported oils to use for your wedding… a gift from Emperor Geta.”

“I suppose since I am trapped, I may as well appreciate the gifts I have been given.”

Deia sat in the warm water, running her hand over the top to create ripples that distorted her figure below the surface. Aelia washed her hair with a pomegranate and fig soaps and oils to signify female fertility and long lasting commitment.

”I was in love like you once,” Deia broke through the silence. Aelia continued to wash the long red hair that had darkened from the moisture. “He promised that we would be wed after… after everything in my village began to quiet itself.”

”What was he like?”

”He was kind. He had brown eyes, though one was blinded and scarred from fighting to protect me once while we were still young. He grew to be so strong, as well. He was… everything a woman hears of in stories.”

”He sounds marvelous, my lady. I understand now… I am sorry that you are not with the man you wished for, but perhaps you will fall for the Imperator in time.”

No other words were said between the two of them, but it had been enough. Geta had heard tell that his future wife had left for the bathhouse and though he would never voice his concerns, he did grow worried about her. When he had arrived, Deianira had began talking about her love lost back home. He fumed, not moving as he clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palms and blood dripped onto the marble floor.

”Imperator, are you alright? Do you wish to return to your room?” His servant cowered behind him, praying to the Gods that he would agree and they could both avoid the altercation. His prayers were in vain, as Geta pushed the door open, hitting it against the wall and letting the sound reverberate though the bathhouse.

”Oh, so sorry to startle you, wife, I thought you would still be in bed.”

”well, I am feeling much better with Aelia’s care. I can take my leave and give you the bathhouse for the rest of the afternoon,” she shifted to rise while Aelia used a linen to guard her from the emperor’s gaze, but he held up his hand.

”Nonsense. We are to be married; it is no concern of mine if you were to stay. In fact, I insist.”

Deia nodded, sinking back into the water as Aelia refolded the linen and resumed scrubbing the lady’s hair.

“Although I understand that you wish to spend your days in the bathhouse with another man of much lower standing. It does not suit such an important standing woman as yourself.”

”I don’t know what you are referring to, imperator. I am to be your wife, whether I wish it or not,” she brought her knees to her chest to shield what little of her figure he may see through the water.

”There’s no need to lie to me, Deia. I am emperor and must hear all the voices of Rome and their woes,” his jaw ticked as he splayed his arms out against the side of the pool.

”I assure you, I have no need to lie to the man I am to marry.”

He stared at her with blooming fury, using his hard gaze like he usually had to make people cower and confess, but it only made him angrier that she was an exact mirror. The silence was thick enough to cut with shears, and the servants’ movements were tense at the interaction.

”I was beginning to wonder what ailment had fallen upon you. You have not been to a single celebration in honor of our engagement, and yet here I find you, being pampered like a most loved pet. With the fineries I bought you, no less.”

”I am quite alright. I was not feeling my best, but I shall be ready for tomorrow. Do not fret too much about me,” she didn’t look at him as she continued playing in the water as if it were far more intriguing than he was. Aelia had finished washing long ago, but she could not bring herself to interrupt the emperor in fear of losing her head.

”Are you quite sure you’re ready? You must be certain. After all, if you discover you are not, and I catch wind of any infidelity on your part, even just a man looking at you, I shall cut their tongues out and serve it to you before locking you in my bedchambers for the rest of my life, little snake.”

”You believe me to be a whore? I am offended you would call your soon-to-be wife something so sinister, emperor. I shall be faithful, as this marriage is at least legitimate, whether I were to love you or not.”

Aelia held up the linen, letting Deianira climb out of the water shielded, before wrapping her and fastening her dress just to wear back to the room.

”Forgive me for my departure, emperor, but I must go prepare for our wedding tomorrow,” she bowed to him, eyes cold as she stared at him the entire time. “I shall see you tomorrow at the altar.”

Deia’s hair had been dry for some time now as she twisted the glossy red waves around her finger and took in the new scent. She sat in the small chair in the corner next to the ornate mirror, picking up her hairbrush and combing it through as she stared at a shell of herself looking back.

The door swung open, Geta marching toward her. As soon as she looked toward him, he was right in front of her, snatching the brush from her hands and throwing it against the mirror causing it to shatter and pieces to fly across the floor. She dared not to flinch and show that he frightened her or he may become more hostile.

”You dare embarrass me like that!” He shouted in her face as she stared at him with the same lifeless eyes she had given him earlier.

”How did I do such a thing, emperor?”

“You have not been to a single celebration. You made excuses that you were unwell that made people worry for you, when really you were sulking,” he spit the last word. “You lied right to my face about what I overheard just outside the bathhouse, and in front of the help, no less. I should have you confined to my room for the rest of your days!”

��I pray you do! I have been ill: I have been sick of the idea that I must marry you of all people. I wish to be home instead of being forced to marry someone like you!”

”My little snake, your insolence knows no bounds. I would give you all you could ask for and it still would not be satiable for you, would it? I have tried to be gentle with you, dear, but it is hard for me to believe that anyone could ever have loved you!”

Deia stood her ground, but she felt choked. Her eyes and throat began to burn as she held back her bitterness for the words

“It is hard for me to believe that anyone could ever love you!”

Geta faltered at the sight, her brown eyes staring at him angrily as they glassed over. He felt the pang in his chest and couldn’t comprehend its origins. He pulled his face back to stone, not letting her see that her emotion caused him to stumble before he walked out the room briskly, slamming the door behind him and rattling Deia’s insides.

[norrisreads]

Dangerous Woman 2 #CS55

PAIRING: carlos sainz x reader!, non racer carlos sainz jr x reader!

SUMMARY: being arranged married to carlos sainz, will the both of you work the marriage or will the next step be signing the divorce papers

WARNINGS: age gap, arranged married related, no smuts! tensions ofc, will be a 4 part series, inc of smau! angst, fluff (in the future?)

part 1

full masterlist

Carlos definition of a date in his mind was a normal casual dinner date, not a date where the both of you would’ve enjoyed because right now while waiting for both of your food to arrived, there was a thick air of tension surrounding both of you.

“will you explain what is going on or are we supposed to sit here in silence?” you spoke, cutting off his train of thoughts

not far from your table you could notice the presence of the trio that was peeping towards your table, it’s not a secret when they’re out there wearing the exact same thing that you last saw them in.

“i’m aware lando have told you i’ve broken up with her” nodding your head agreeing to the statement

“I’ll appreciate if i could rekindle this situation, slowly”

now, you’re laughing because why now? why rekindle after a year?

“that’s funny sainz, the last thing i’ve heard from you was that you threw away our friendship over, just because you thought this marriage would meddle in to your relationship”

“you would’ve done the same thing, y/n. you don’t understand”

What did he meant that you wouldn’t understand? what about the nights you sobbed to him about how much you’ve loved your ex, but your parents would never approve of him which led the both of you to part ways

“i would’ve done the same thing carlos, but i couldn’t. it’s different for me because i’m not the head of the family, i’m just a woman who has to listen to everything my father says. I loved him, but i couldn’t do it anymore so i truly understand carlos. I’ve never once threw away our friendship but instead you, you’re selfish and you’re unaware of it”

you expected a reply but all he gave you was a slight nod agreeing to whatever you’ve just told him

“let’s just eat, we’re here anyways, and it would be great if those trios of yours join us instead of trying to hide themselves, because it’s not working”

it’s been two weeks since then, there was an improvement in carlos attitude towards you, he would pick you up daily from your shifts, asked you out to dinner and he’s actually treating you like a wife should have been treated, which was odd but it did healed a part of your heart knowingly this is exactly the way you wanted to be treat as a wife.

“you’ve been nothing but glowing these past few days, what’s going on?” you’re currently on face-time with your best-friend, casually keeping up with each other gossips

“it’s carlos, he’s been treating me differently ever since that dinner date” setting up your phone on your table, while you’re removing your left over makeup

“well that’s great isn’t it? you guys are married so, least he could do is start treating you like a wife”

your best friend have always had a grudge towards Carlos, ever-since you’ve told her about both yours and Carlos rough past

“yeah and i guess im still getting used to it, but she’s gonna come back anytime sooner, this isn’t the first and surely would not be the last”

sighing while removing your makeup, from your phone screen you could see your best friend shrugging her shoulders agreeing with whatever you’ve just said to her

“he does that everytime, y/n. it’s all up to your choices love”

just then you heard your front doors open with voices trailing behind, “i think he’s homed, i’ll text you in a while, love you”

with that you ended the call with your best-friend and walked to your living room only to be greeted with carlos and his friends

“is there something going on today?” you were confused, you weren’t aware of the invitation of his friends over to your house

“they were just stopping by for dinner, would you like to join us?”

“It’s alright, your mom came by and brought over some food. I’ll just heat them up for you guys”

with that, carlos left the kitchen to entertain his friends

you weren’t particularly fond of his friends, other than the three who’s always around the both of you, these friends were different

you knew the friend group that he sticks by has been there for him since childhood and they’ve particularly were more fond of her rather than you.

there were many times you’d eavesdrop their conversations and those times were when you’d listen to their bad remarks about your marriage.

you knew who carlos ex girlfriend was, you’ve met her multiple times due to carlos and your family gathering that’s on-going for every year.

you’d be lying if you think she wasn’t beautiful because she is, no one knew but you’d sometimes compare the both of you because clearly she was the better looking.

your train of thoughts left your mind when you felt hands snaking around your waist

“what’s going on with that mind of yours, i’ve been calling for you to join us”

you could smell that strong perfume of his and a tint of sweetness which you for sure know it’s neither his nor yours because the perfumes you wore were always citrusy scents, and that was one sign you should have never choose to ignore

taglist ; @iissza @spngi @sainzluvrr @slut4lando

link to taglist

a/n : thank you for the support & love for dangerous woman 🥹! i’ve received multiple inboxs asking when will i post the next part, so here you go <3!

[holylulusworld]

Brother's keeper (2)

Summary: She would do anything to protect her brother.

Pairing: Royal!Tony Stark x Princess!Reader

Warnings: mentions of marriage, love-hate relationship, feisty/bratty reader, enemies to lovers, arguments, royal au, dystopian au, banter, sexual tension, betrayal (not Tony), a hint of making out

This series takes place in the Two kings (Arc1) & Not a queen (Arc 2) universe, at the same time. I recommend reading these stories first to understand this universe better.

You can find all arcs here: Of Kings and Queens Arcs

Brother’s keeper masterlist

Brother’s keeper (1)

Leaving your homelands to spend the next month with your fiancé – no other than your nemesis Tony Stark was the hardest decision you ever made.

Your father wanted you to stay, but you lied and told him that it’s essential for your upcoming wedding to get to know Tony better.

While your father showed an ounce of decency, and shed a tear when you left your home, your brother didn’t even say goodbye.

You pretend that it was too hard to say goodbye to him, or that he’s ashamed of his doings. Even though, deep down inside, you know it’s not true.

“A pleasure to have you here,” Howard offers his arm to you. “I’m sorry. My son is once again, engrossed in…” He sighs. “You know him. He works on one of his projects.”

“It’s fine, your highness. I had the chance to get to know the kingdom, and your library while he was absent,” you chuckle.

Honestly, you are relieved you had the last days to yourself. Tony would’ve only reminded your brother and the betrayal which still pains your heart.

“Princess, the library is all yours, princess. You can use it whenever you want to,” Howard leads you along the hallways, toward his son’s laboratory. “We have a beautiful garden too.”

“I’m not much into flowers. My interests lie elsewhere,” you softly say. It’s so much easier to talk to Howard. If only his son was more like him.

“Here we are,” Howard points toward the lab. “Maybe you’ll get my son’s attention. I tried to get him out of his lab for days.”

“Howard,” you sigh as the king squeezes your arm. “Your son and I are like fire and water. Or heat and cold. We don’t match.”

“Princess, did you never hear about opposites attract? You and my son are the perfect match. All the other women cannot tame Tony. He needs a strong-headed woman to keep him in line. Now go in there and give him hell for ignoring his fiancé.”

“What are you doing in here all day?” You walk around the lab, scrunching up your nose as it’s a mess. “Sitting around in this mess.”

Broken devices, cables, and computer boards lie splattered all over the floor and desk. Remnants of a different time.

Tony huffs but doesn’t look up from the motherboard he’s working on. “I try to fix what our ancestors ruined. If I can repair the motherboard, I’ll be able to rebuild the control for the satellite…and…” Tony finally looks up at you. “You wouldn’t understand…”

“You want to repair the control for a satellite? Is that even possible? I thought there was no way to reach them. And didn’t they all get destroyed? It’s been ages since people last used them.”

Tony blinks a few times. “Colibri, you just made me rock hard.” He blurs out without thinking.

“What?”

“Fuck…did I say that out loud?” Tony wrinkles his forehead. “So, you’ve got the looks and the brain.” He grins. “How could your brother ever let you go?”

“Just like every other man, he underestimated my value,” you hop onto Tony’s desk to get a better look at the motherboard. “Do you think you will find a functional satellite?”

“I have faith in me and my knowledge. I just know somewhere up there a satellite is waiting for me to get in contact with it,” he grins. “I’ll change the world and use all the technology our ancestors left us.”

“Your ancestors,” glancing at a construction sketch on his desk you frown. “This looks like a person made of metal.” You cock your head. “A robot or something like that?”

“Something like that,” he excitedly says. “Wait. I got something better. Have a look at this construction sketch. You’ll understand it better.”

“That’s…” you snatch the piece of paper out of Tony’s hand. “A man in a suit made of metal. Almost like a knight in his armor.”

“This armor was so much more. It was a powered armor that gave the person wearing it superhuman strength and durability, flight, and an array of weapons. If only I’ll be able to find an energy source to make them work.”

“Wait…do you have one?” You gasp when Tony nods silently. “Where? Can I see it? Fuck, I want to wear it.”

“Calm down,” he chuckles. “It doesn’t work and is more like a rusty wreck.”

You huff. “If you don’t want to show it to me, fine. But don’t lie to me, Stark. This is more than a rusty wreck. You are working on reconstructing it. Don’t you?”

“Damn it,” Tony grunts. “You are a smartass, aren’t you? Nosy too.” He shakes his head. “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll spank your ass raw.”

“Hmm…I won’t,” you pat his shoulder. “This is…so exciting. Can we…I mean…can I see it? Please. I promise to not call you out on your bullshit for a day.”

“Make it a week and we have a deal,” he grins. “Oh, and you will kiss me after I show you the armor. With tongue.”

Wrinkling your nose, you look at the construction sketch again. “Fine. But your tongue stays in your mouth, Stark.”

“Call me Tony, darling. You should get used to it. In a few weeks, you’ll scream my name…”

You can’t believe this is real. A red armor Tony’s size stands right next to several rusty models. Most of them are unrepairable, but this one looks brand-new.

“I tried to rebuild it, using the construction sketch. It won’t work, though. I need an energy source.”

“It’s awesome,” you carefully touch the armor, smiling as it feels like you are touching history. “We need to find something to make it work. This is…I don’t know…”

“I know,” he whispers in your ear. “Now that I showed you the armor, I must insist on—”

Tony grunts when you jump at him. You push him against the wall to claim his lips in a heated kiss. You dominate his mouth, not giving Tony the chance to ruin the moment.

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[roseeycreates-blog]

Wait, so Tenzin still ends up with Pema in the farmer AU?

Hi, anon~

Thanks for the ask! So, about that wedding announcement—it was only in the paper, don’t worry. Now, let’s talk about Pema first.

In this AU, Pema isn’t that much younger than Tenzin like she is in canon. She’s actually the same age as Suyin, and they grew up together. Su and Pema got along well as kids, but when Su started bending training, she got really into it and spent less time with Pema. Something happened between them, and they had a fallout (I’ll share more on that in another post).

ANYWAY, after Linzin broke up, they went their separate ways. Lin embraced her new life as a Beifong, while Tenzin traveled to all the air temples and stayed there for seven years. When he finally returned, he came back with Pema and introduced her as his girlfriend. How did that happen? Well, during those seven years, Pema tried to pursue Tenzin many times—like, many, many times—but he kept declining. Pema was about to give up, but the acolytes kept pushing her, saying things like, “You haven’t tried enough, Pema. Convince him that Lin’s never coming back, and she’s the reason he was heartbroken. Also, remind him of his responsibility to the Air Nation.”

Pema wasn’t too thrilled about this because she wanted Tenzin to love her for who she was, not out of guilt or pressure. But the acolytes insisted, saying he’s not getting any younger and that he’ll be pressured soon anyway, so they just needed to give him a little nudge. On his 33rd birthday, Pema confessed her feelings to him again and said everything the acolytes had told her. She made sure not to be too pushy but just enough to open his eyes to the fact that Lin wasn’t coming back. She then continued, “Instead of Lin, I’m here with you, and I’ll never hurt you. I’ll support you in anything you do.” Tenzin then accepts her and decides to go home so that his family meet her. 

Fast forward to Tenzin’s return, they arrived in the afternoon, and he was greeted by his siblings and Su. The adults were absent, but the family had been expecting them. They made sure to separate Tenzin from Pema, with Su handling Pema while the siblings took Tenzin aside.

Pema felt uneasy with Su because Su had the upper hand. As Tenzin caught up with his siblings, they broke the news that there had been a wedding announcement in the paper that morning—one that Tenzin hadn’t even heard of. He was shocked.

"What wedding announcement?" he exclaimed.

"The wedding announcement was the acolytes' doing," Pema replied

Su confronted Pema, who admitted that the announcement had been the work of the acolytes. Su wasn’t surprised but pressed, "And you didn’t tell Tenzin?"

 Pema avoided her gaze, muttering, "Tenzin and I are soulmates. Lin broke his heart, and I’d never let her hurt him again!"

"Lin was devastated when she heard the news," Kya exclaimed

"If she wanted to get back with me, why didn’t she do it years ago?!" Tenzin asked

His siblings exchanged sad looks before Bumi spoke up, "Lin tried to reach out—through letters, calls and even tried to visit you once. She only told us this morning, after the news broke."

Kya added, "If we had known, we would’ve helped her. But she didn’t want to ask because she was the one who ended things."

Tenzin was floored. "What letters? What calls?"

"It wasn’t me. It was the acolytes and abbots. They held all the letters and told Lin that Tenzin didn’t want to see nor speak to her anymore." Pema  admitted, 

Su, furious, snapped, "And you just let them do it? You haven’t changed, Pema! You stood by and did nothing, just like you did years ago!"

Tenzin was in shock; everything felt overwhelming and new to him. He quickly asked, “Where is she now?”

Kya replied, “She’s at home.”

Bumi added, “We left her with Izumi.”

Izumi was in Republic City for future Firelord matters, but now she was with Lin to offer comfort.

Tenzin rushed out. Sokka was just arriving home when he saw Tenzin in a hurry. He asked what was going on, but the siblings only told him to check on Su.

Sokka went to the room and overheard an argument between Pema and Su.

“What happened in the past is over, Su! I love Tenzin, and I’d never let him go back to Lin! What they did to Lin isn’t my concern! Tenzin deserves better!” Pema argued.

Sokka stepped in, “And you think you’re the one who deserves him?”

Su looked surprised. “Dad?”

Sorry it’s so long! Hope you like it!~

[tomjamesavery]

What a world. Harry finds himself on a somewhat spiritual journey, or to put it simply, a train to a place he hadn't been to before, yet he isn't quite sure what really brought him there. He soon finds the culprit, a culprit with red hair and brown eyes. Bringing him a long overdue reunion with an old friend that might even (probably(definitely)) be more. This Fanfic might not be for everyone, it will eventually, turn into a "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" kind of story, only that Harry and Ginny aren't Special Agents but politicians and diplomats, fighting battles with arguments rather than guns. Draco also plays a big role and his (platonic) relationship with Harry.

Chapter Five out now: Read the full fourth Chapter on: AO3 FFN Or start from the beginning. Here is a little snippet from the Fifth Chapter:

Dear Ginny.

-Did Starting with  “Dear” make sense? He guessed so, she was dear to him after all. (He pointedly ignored the looming fact that one tended to start letters to familiars with “Dear” more often than not.)

Today was quite interesting, to put it lightly. As I had told you yesterday, mine and Malfoy’s project began today. And to say that I wasn’t ready for what was coming, would be a serious understatement.  It started off in classical fashion. I tried reason, he preferred confrontation. Every sentence an insult. Yet logically -taught by the past- I had been expecting exactly that, had prepared for it -how could I not? So when the git suddenly agreed with my declaration of neutrality for the simple sake of our case study, I was quite taken aback. I might have indeed hoped for it -yet the git seems to have a kind of sixth sense when it comes to subverting expectations. And if that wasn’t enough, he suddenly started laying out his own terms of how we should proceed and what the right course of action to reach the best possible outcome ought to be.  It left me speechless. Must’ve given that prat more satisfaction than he ever deserves to feel.  Git. Git. Git.

You know me -how I get when faced with something unexpected. I run on subconscious rather than conscious.  As you’ve witnessed before, in the sight of psychological confrontation, this has severe shortcomings. Oh, if only I had considered a career in law enforcement, would’ve done quite well there I imagine. Probably. Maybe. Either way, after extracting the last bit of personal enjoyment out of my misery, he seemed to take pity on me and left me sitting there, alone and just as speechless. I imagine there was no pity, but his sense of duty drove him to abandon me in favour of actually working on what was assigned to us. Thank you, Professor Jameson -you deserve to hear these words more often than I bestow them. After that, it was quite smooth sailing. In a way, I was a bit more prepared at that point. I know Malfoy is many things, but he is not ambivalent. He would not turn around and in the same breath act against his own newly laid out ‘commandments’. As those -for once- had been sincere. If it had been his twisted idea of irony, the world might’ve looked different.

Then we studied, in a strange form of serene tranquillity I did not expect the prat to harbour. And, not only that. We got shit done, so much, I am proud to proclaim I have a wee bit of free time on my hands -outside of Uni of course- regarding today and tomorrow.  What better use for fleeting free time, than to write to an old acquaintance. As annoying and ginger as they might be.  No, I am not talking about Ron. He wrote to me recently.

How are you, Ginny? Haven’t we spoken in ages? Like a full 24 hours, almost. Tell me about your day at Uni, I want to hear everything, especially any news regarding that arse, Cormac, and if he -once again- tried anything. Let me know if you decked him. And give someone a camera beforehand. I want to bear witness to the aftermath. If there is anything -to bear witness to- left.  (Which I doubt.)

Love, Harry

Seemed good, he concluded, swiftly checking over the sheet of paper for any obvious mistakes in spelling. 

He would drop the letter off at the nearest post office first thing tomorrow morning on his way to Uni. He couldn’t wait for her to get it. The feeling of tingling on his skin at the thought of it should’ve potentially alarmed him. But it was Ginny, his best friend, how could he not feel tingles if it was about her? She was his most dear after all. And weren’t those the ones you held closest to your heart?

[elvenbeard]

2077, September

“I’m wondering if this is what Alt meant when she said Soulkiller would… kill my soul. Leave me nothing but a cluster of memories and thoughts… A blurry copy of myself, trapped in a body so adjusted to Johnny already that it would’ve been smarter to just – …”

Look at how far you've come. You're the King of the fucking Afterlife, a Night City legend... but as it is with Night City legends, they tend to die young.

Vince is 28 by mid-to-late 2077, every other person his age has so much to live for, to look forward to... yet his thoughts are still pre-occupied with the same problem they have been since April, just with a new twist: how the hell am I gonna survive my own body trying to kill me now?

He'd been told that Johnny would slowly wipe out his personality, his memories, his existence, but even with Johnny gone now, for good, an amicable separation in the end... Vince doesn't feel the same anymore. Is he even himself still? Or just a not-entirely-accurate copy of the Vince that once was? In the end, did he wipe himself out with the help of Alt and Soulkiller, without Johnny even having a fault in it so much?

Just like after Jackie's death, Vince cannot help but wonder: would it have been better the other way around? Should he have stayed back in Cyberspace, give Johnny a second chance, changed man that he was by then? But this body was Vince's, had always been, logically he knew it... But something was off, not quite the same anymore.

He has so much to fight for now, not even only abstract concepts like a good reputation or "being remembered" that he was so focused on at the start of all of this. In the chaos and hardship he found friends, love, forged connections he could have never dreamt of - in spite of and because of Johnny, and for that he's thankful.

He has so much to lose, more than ever. Giving up is not an option, has never been.

Vince through the years (8/9)

I mentioned many times before that I love the Sun ending cause it fits really well for Vince for many reasons. He's a good merc, but he'd make an even more amazing Fixer with his background, he's hella ambitious, smart, cunning, organised, and just.... hhhh everything!! But the Soulkiller thing still fucks me up so much everytime and the more I think about it. Anyone know the plot-twist of/played SOMA? Yeah... yeah. If you know, you know.

The one thing that always really bothered me about the Sun Ending though, is one of the last things he gets to say before the credits being "I have nothing left to lose" when... no, clearly not. We accept that the council has made a decision but it's a stupid decision! Blaming it on his nerves and not having a good time with Mr. B, distrusting his ass for good reasons, that he says that at that moment XD

That being said... I know everyone has a slightly differently timeline of events, and I wanted to share bits an pieces of mine in this context (still a wip more or less, but I have some set dates for certain events because I love angst).

Thursday, Nov. 5th 2076 -> meet Jackie at Lizzie's, booted from Arasaka

End of December -> First Gig with Jackie

[A lot of the early gigs for Regina and Wakako (but a few of the other Fixers, too), happen during the time of the 6-month-montage for my headcanon]

Sunday, April 4th 2077 -> "The Rescue"

Monday, April 5th 2077 -> "The Ride"

[preparations for the Konpeki Plaza heist in the following days - a bit more elaborate planning would be needed imo than what's shown in game, the Maelstrom meetup alone, esp. if you meet Meredith upfront, wouldn't be something Vince would do over the course of a fun afternoon]

Friday, April 16th 2077 -> Konpeki Plaza Heist, arrival at the hotel in the early afternoon

Saturday, April 17th -> V wakes up in the landfill in the evening

[stay at Vik's to recover - mostly from injuries sustained during the fights and the operation; since this is the future it would probably not be as long as we'd have to stay in hospital with today's medicine; I think V would also get more glimpses into Johnny's memories as he sleeps/dreams]

Tuesday, April 20th -> V is brought home and Johnny appears at night

Wednesday, April 21st -> Breakfast with Takemura xD

[over the course of the next few weeks everything up to "Play it Safe" happens, including the Hunt for Hellmann and the search for Evelyn and the Voodoo Boys; a lot of it is going on simultaneously, but helping Panam and going after Hellmann and such is something that would take at least 3-4 days with minimal travel inbetween - but V could for example talk to Mr. Hands while waiting for the Kang Tao AV to get the meetup with Brigitte scheduled and help Takemura while Evelyn is recovering, and so on.]

Mid-May 2077 -> Attack on the Parade in Japantown (the attack on the parade and the few quests that follow with Takemura's safehouse and V and Johnny escaping to the Motel etc. all happen over the course of 12ish hours in my head, cause it wouldn't make sense to trail off doing gigs or other stuff while Takemura and Hanako sit there and wait super on-edge XD)

Friday, May 14th -> Johnny's wild bender

Sunday, May 16th -> Ebunike & Oil Fields

Tuesday, May 18th -> Movie-Date with Rogue

Thursday, May 20th -> first meeting with Kerry😌

Tuesday, May 25th -> Samurai "Reunion" Concert

Thursday, May 27th -> Kerry has a gig for V

Tuesday, June 1st -> Dark Matter show with Us Cracks (and in the following days Blue Moon's stalker gig, before Boat Drinks)

Friday, June 4th -> Boat Drinks 🚤🔥

[a tiny little peace of mind pls before it all goes to shit XD]

Wednesday, June 9th -> Embers-Meetup with Hanako (headcanon time: I think, with how dangerous and secretive everything is with Hanako, they would agree on sth like her calling V with a date for the meetup at Embers at some point, when she feels it is safe. Maybe he'd still formally agree at some point "all right, starting now, feel free to call me anytime and I'll come, I'm ready"; so there is some plausible reason as to why "Meet Hanako at Embers" sits in your journal for around 20 gigs revolving around Johnny's past without consequences XD)

Thursday, June 10th -> V's 28th birthday, bc I love angst :D (as I said above, the meet at Embers would be something more or less spontaneous, and so he'd be like "aw shit, I wanted to spend my potential last birthday not thinking about the Arasakas' offer too much", not expecting he wouldn't really walk out of the restaurant on his own again. The attack on Arasaka Tower would happen the same night, after the meeting with Hanako, and so by the time midnight strikes and V walks into and out of Mikoshi, it would be his birthday in multiple ways, kinda. Cause ~symbolism~)

[time skip with very important things happening that explain how V got his mansion and became King of the Afterlife]

Thursday, September 2nd -> "Blaze of Glory" - Meetup with Mr. B at Afterlife (I put it in September because Alt's estimate for how long V has to live find a solution to his problem is around 6 months. So, by September half of that time is over, but V'd also have a very reasonable amount of time to plan the Crystal Palace Heist and make it a success, looking at how he managed to survive the main story events in a shorter timeframe. I think the outlook could definitely be seen as positive; also basing this a bit on what a femV romancing River says in the Sun Ending, that "months of prep" went into this "last gig". Also, the very prominent clothing ad "Focus on Winning this Fall" - "fall", as in, the season - visible at the start of the 6-month-montage also kinda makes me think the endings take place during Sep-Nov, cause we love foreshadowing in this house)

Saturday, September 4th -> First Chapter of "Love is Stored in the Olive Jar" XD and from then on we'll see o.o

Oookay.... that ended up being longer than I thought XD But yes... seing what V has accomplished in a relatively short amount of time (and I mean... about 1.5 months can definitely be "a few weeks, at most", if we look at Vik's original estimate of the situation) I think with twice as much time to plan *just one gig* (even though, admittedly, an insane one) his chances of it going right are good. Maybe not 100% according to plan, cause something always goes wrong, but yeah. Fully depends on everyone's V's of course, and whether at that point they *want to* continue fighting, have something to fight for and lose - Vince definitely does - but yeah. I choose to interpret the Sun ending as a positive outcome that gives V another shot at life xD Maybe not in the way he expected buuuut... 👀

Thanks for reading so far if you did, would love to hear different takes and how you'd space out the timeline of the main story for your V!

[dragonmasterhiccup]

Sigrid hummed in acknowledgment. “I can see that. Now I’m not trying to be degrading when I say this, as I know how Vikings can get— I’ve seen it firsthand— but, your husband seems to be gentler in that regard, softer spoken.” She shrugged, taking a hefty sip of water. “I don’t know if that’s it for sure, but whatever it is, it has the girls feeling safe, and that’s honestly all I care about. Of course I care about Magnus and Imogen, but they can handle themselves easier; Caito wasn’t lying when he was talking about Ellie’s vision— she can barely swing a sword straight for Thors sake! And the worst part is is that she thinks she’s doing it right, that she’s seeing it properly, and when we tell her she isn’t? Gods, you’ve never seen a girl that mad befits…” She paused. “And Isla’s only four, so I don’t expect her to do much of anything right now.”

The young woman seemed to be thinking back on some memories, fond ones at that, from what her expression was saying at least. “Oh, she said everything and anything about you guys— your daughter too. She referred to you guys as ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ for the longest time, told us about the hut, the Night Fury— I mean, she was the one to change our minds about dragons! Even after what they did to us! Who would’ve thought, huh?”

…

Isla was all smiles still, clearly overjoyed to have made what she thought was a new friend. She had never had a friend her age before!

At the mention of her hair being braided by either of Zephyrs parents, she shook her head, pointing back at Danny before touching her own head of hair. She wanted to have hair like her sisters!

…

Danny let out a shaky breath of relief, glad to know that Hiccup was still a hundred percent on board with being her father again.

At the mention of Isla receiving the same treatment, she nodded, her eyes glossing over. “That would be great. I, I think she needs it more than me.” Her eyes locked with Hiccups, and when she spoke again, her voice was hollow, almost desperate. “It was bad, Hiccup, when we found her. I just want it to be better for her. I want her to have what I didn’t.”

At him once again saying that it was good to have her back, she couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around him again, embracing him in a tight hug.

At this point, Isla had picked up on the fact that her big sister was upset, and obviously wanting to make her feel better, she went away from Zephyr to hug Danny as tight as her little arms would allow her to.

Chuckling softly, Danny picked her up in her arms. “Thanks, Isla. That made me feel a lot better. I love you, okay?”

The younger girl just nodded, burying her head in Danny’s shoulder.

Turning to the kitchen, she called out. “Caito! Can you come here? I wanna head over to Gothi’s now!”

———

In the end, Caito had agreed to do this, only because he was allowed to be with his two youngest siblings.

Once they got up to hut, he moved to stand protectively in front of the two girls, his expression firm.

“They go first, understood? And if there’s not enough space, I’ll stand in the doorway, but I need to be able to see them.

"Yep, that's Hiccup. He's always been that way, although he was extremely sarcastic for a while when we were teenagers."

Astrid's brows furrowed in concern. "The branding...that is what affected her eye, isn't it?" Glancing over at Danny, she said, "Gothi can probably help. I was once blinded by a lightning strike, and she was able to bring my sight back..."

It warmed Astrid's heart to hear these things, and she nodded her head towards Hiccup. "If it weren't for him, we'd still be at war with dragons. It's amazing how much one person can change."

---

Zephyr's face fell as Isla declined the new hairstyle, but as she pointed to Danny's hair, Zephyr's face lit up again. "Can--can I match you then? Do you think she could do my hair too?"

---

Hiccup tilted his head slightly, his face full of compassion, speaking softly. "I think you both could use it, Danny." Nodding, he said, "Then that's exactly what I'll do. On Berk, you, Isla, the others... you'll all have everything you need, and then some."

Returning her embrace, he only let go when he saw Isla approach, with Zephyr close behind. The young Haddock immediately plopped herself in her father's lap. "Hey dad! Isla and I are like, best friends now!"

"Oh, is that so?"

"Uh huh! I want to have my hair match hers!"

---------------

Hiccup held Caito's gaze, nodding. "I can make sure they are seen first, but you'll have to tell Gothi your other terms. I know I'll have to step out for a portion of the examination, but if you insist on staying for that portion, you need to take it up with her."

Knocking on the door, he said, "Gothi? I know it's late, but there are some new arrivals that have some wounds that need attention."

She gave him a tough time when Danny came, bonking him on the head for not bringing her sooner.

When the door opened, he greeted the elder Berkian. "There are three here with various injuries, can we start with the youngest first? Just a check over, make sure she's alright?"

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

INTERIM: Momoharu/Kaimaki -

//WARNING: This chapter contains minor sexual language and depictions of intercourse.

[A few hours Earlier from the current story, back at the Tower]

...

*Maki, borrowing Mona’s bedroom, rests on her bed with her face nuzzled into the pillow, thinking back to her altercation with Kaito earlier.

...

*knock!* *knock!*

...?

Kaito: Maki Roll? You awake?

Kaito!?

Kaito: Yeah, it’s just me. I know you’re in a bad mood right now, but can I come in?

Huh? N-No, I’m not...I’m not in a bad mood.

Yeah, you can come in.

*The door opens.

Sorry to bother you so late.

No, it’s ok.

*Kaito strides over to the bed and sits next to Maki. They sit next to each other quietly for a moment until Maki decides to speak up.

I...I’m sorry for what I did to you earlier.

Don’t worry about it.

I DO worry about it. The fact that you’re so ok with it concerns me.

We’ve been going steady for what? 4 years now? Why would I be upset because you decided to get a little frisky?

Kaito.

You didn’t do anything wrong!

...

...

Alright...maybe you did a little wrong...You should have asked me first...

Yeah...

But I’m not angry. ‘Cause I know why you acted that way.

Huh? Wh-What do you mean?

You’ve been gone for ages. Zetsubou kidnapped you, locked you up, and kept you away from me for ages.

You acted like someone who hasn’t received love in a long time. Someone who hasn’t been free for a long time. 

You’re just having trouble readjusting to everything. That’s what Ryoma told me.

...I guess he would know.

So yeah, I got no right to be mad. I’ve never been in that situation. And the fact that I wasn’t able to save you in time means I’m partially responsible.

Don’t say that. I don’t know how I ever managed before I met you...

‘Cause you’re strong. That’s why.

No, I’m not. If I was strong, I could have saved more than just Seiko from Zetsubou. And I wouldn’t have been captured in the first place.

You can’t blame yourself for that. Zetsubou had us all by the reigns right from the start.

If I was really strong, Kaito, I’d be more like you. Even if you’re worked up easily, you still have decent restraint. And you always know the right thing to say.

I know I always give you crap for being an idiot, but honestly, I don’t care about that sort of stuff.

You know Maki, a simple “I love you” would suffice. You don’t need to beat around the bush like this.

Sh-Shut up!

*She “gently” punches his arm.

Seriously though. Me and Shuichi...and everyone else for that matter. We’ve gotten this far because you’ve been supporting us.

You’ve got no weakness, and your strength is what allows us to keep going. That’s how it’s always been.

...

What?

That’s not right Maki Roll. If anything, I’ve been reflecting on my weaknesses for a while.

What?

To be honest, I’m super problematic. You’re right in that I take on everyone else’s issues and help them tackle them, but I’m not quick to ask people to help me with my own problems.

I was actually planning on opening up about them to you but...after all you went through, I thought it’d be shit to pile it on you, so I held it in.

...Kaito...

...Maki Roll. Can you promise to keep this a secret for me? At least for now?

...Of course. But...what’s been eating at you so much? And for how long?

You want me to be honest? Heh...I’ve been thinking about it ever since you, Tenko and the Kisaragi’s rescued me from Tsumugi the first time.

That long!? That’s just after we reuinited!

Yeah...It ain’t THAT big of a deal, otherwise I would’ve opened up sooner about it, but...

*sigh* Shirogane took a delight in trying to torment me while she waited for you to show up...She showed me something...Video footage of me during my Killing Game audition.

You mean...!?

“Once I got fame and fortune, I don’t gotta worry about what’s impossible!”

That’s what I said in the footage she showed me.

Yeah, she showed the same thing to me too.

But that’s the you from before right? The Kaito Momota I love doesn’t think that way, and doesn’t talk like that. He TRULY believes in his values.

That’s the problem.

Huh?

This Kaito Momota and that Kaito Momota might as well be two different people, living in completely different worlds. But...that Kaito was me before now...so I have to wonder...

Am I...still Kaito Momota at all?

Wh-What are you talking about?

That Kaito had a life! I don’t know how things were for him, but he probably had a family! Friends! A life of his own!

When I was created...did that Kaito die...!?

!!?

You’re someone who lives and moves on despite the regret of the people you killed as an assassin. All that support I gave you was really just a buncha palatable words. I can’t ever hope to put myself in the shoes of others.

It might not be the same as what you’ve suffered through, but the thought that I took Kaito Momota away from the people who cared about him...It scares me.

So yeah, that’s my weakness. I’m afraid of being a fake...

So...you see? Shirogane got to me...just as she did to you.

...!

Did you...just say all of that...to make me feel more comfortable expressing myself?

Maybe...but it’s the truth...

You idiot...!

*Maki grabs Kaito by the shoulders violently, pushing him down onto the bed.

Maki OW! That hurts!

The original Kaito Momota knew exactly what he was getting into when he signed up for the Killing Game. He was so absorbed by fame and fortune that he abandoned and ignored whoever may have loved of cherished him and forfeited his life by signing up for that twisted shit!

Even if you are different, there’s no way you’re just a fake. 

I kept my distance from everyone during the Killing Game, and everyone kept their distance from me after Kokichi revealed my talent. But despite that, you were still dumb enough to reach out to me! 

The day you first invited me to train with you was the day you pulled me out of a pit of my own misery! YOU did that! The Kaito who’s sitting here with me right now!

W-Well, technically I’m laying down-

*Maki points to Kaito’s chest.

Everything YOU feel...Everything you want and wish for...It’s all here. In this very real, living, beating heart!

...

The Kaito that you know and the Kaito that cares about me. It’s right here, no doubt about it!

So don’t give me that shit about you being fake! P-Please don’t...!

...Maki...

...

To me...you are the greatest astronaut in the world, and I love you. Don’t you dare tell me that the man who saved my life is a fake.

...

...

Sorry I’ll...get off you now...

*Maki stands up, allowing Kaito to sit up again.

...Thanks for that. To think I came to comfort you, but you ended up hearing me out instead.

You helped me out more than many times. It’s the least I could do.

...Well...It’s awkward asking after what just happened, so never mind...

What is it? Go on.

...Maki Roll, I’m gonna be honest. I thought about what happened between us earlier, and I know it’s been a while since we got a chance to be alone together. 

Everyone else is about doing their own thing this evening and we finally have a long time to ourselves.

Yeah...So you want to do something? Training?

...

What is it Kaito?

...Alright, fine. Maki-Roll, I’ll be straightforward; and remember, I’ll understand if the answer is a no, and we don’t ever need to bring it up again.

...Do you want to have sex with me?

...

...!!!?? 

You-Wha-!? H-Hey-! Wh-What are you-!?

Yeah, I figured you’d get flustered.

We’ve been going steady for a while, but we’ve never “done it.” I never asked or initiated because I became aware that you don’t like to be touched. I was scared to hurt you.

Wh-What made you think that...?

Well...

Oh...

That was an accident on my part, but my jaw kinda still hurts.

And when we started dating, I tried not to get too touchy. Given the life you lived, I figured you were uncomfortable with that.

Not...exactly true...

...?

Let’s be honest...If I didn’t want to touch you, I don’t think I would have been so forceful earlier. Even if I don’t want to admit it to myself...

I...want you...Kaito.

...

*Kaito rests his hands on Maki’s shoulder, while Maki wraps hers around his. Kaito shifts and his body once again falls backwards, more gently this time, falling on Mona’s pillow, with Maki’s red and smitten face looking down at him.

You think Mona will be mad if we do this in her bed...?

I’m sure she’ll be fine if we clean up after ourselves...

*Maki leans down and she and Kaito hold each other close and start to make out.

...Yeah, I’m sure she’ll find it in her heart to forgive us.

*Maki slowly starts taking off her clothes...

[A short while later...]

Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are...?

Yes...one too many times in the last while...

I’m already embarrassed enough you know?

But you’re especially beautiful from this close.

Seriously, enough...Don’t fluster me so much when I’m too exhausted to retaliate...

I guess it makes sense for a first time.

This isn’t your first time?

I have...vague memories of the other Kaito Momota having a girlfriend prior to the Killing Game.

So a part of him IS still in there somewhere?

Yeah...but you know, if he had you back then, I doubt he would have ever gone through with the Killing Game.

...

*Maki brushes up against Kaito, cradling him and passionately kissing him again on the lips.

But...it felt pretty great. 

Good...I hope it’s a feeling you can get used to... ‘Cause we’re never letting each other go again.

Agreed. But hey...does that mean...we can sleep like this?

Of course.

...I love you Kaito...

*The two cuddle and kiss until they fall asleep.

[trappers-cloak]

The Buck and the Fox: Chapter 3

"Men in Sheep's Clothing"

a/n: after months of me agonizing on how to finish this chapter, here it is! we last left off with Diana heading to bed with her husband Eugene. Now this is where things are starting to pick up.

Tags: slow burn, female!oc x Arthur Morgan, hints of pining. this is very plot heavy - while it is a work of fanfiction, it leans into creating a compelling story within the world/story of rdr2.

TW: incest, dubious consent, captivity

word count: ~ 4k

Diana Wegner

Diana hadn’t expected to see Arthur at the ranch, but it was a welcome surprise. She was also sorry not to have said hello, but it would’ve been too much of a risk with Eugene home early anyway. Still, the thought of Arthur kept her through the evening's chores. 

Eugene, having arrived drunk with his new, unnecessary stallion, put Diana and Seamus to the task of stabling the horse and feeding him. The whole time, she thought of Arthur, knowing that such thoughts were folly anyway. For Christ sakes, she’d only met the man once, yet here she was giggling and blushing about him like a schoolgirl. She couldn’t place her fascination with him, besides the small fact that he was a dangerously attractive cowboy who quite literally had saved her life. It was something out of a storybook from her youth. Even Eugene’s new horse reminded her of Arthur - this new, frivolous purchase was the same color and pattern as the man’s war horse.

“Missus Diana?” a question from Seamus broke her from her thoughts. 

“Oh, um…yes?” she asked Seamus, hoping he hadn’t seen her in her thoughts. His smirk told her he had. 

“I just said that I’ve got the rest of this. You best get on inside. Mister Eugene said he…wants you tonight,” he mumbled. He knew better than to tease her after saying such a thing. 

Diana’s heart sank. Here she was, fantasizing like she was Miriam’s age, and she had to go do her wifely duties with a man she near despised. She sighed, and handed Seamus the reins. 

“Gimme some of that moonshine. The strong stuff, this time,” she said to Seamus. He handed over his own flask, a stolen engraved hip flask. 

“This stuff’s got some poppy in it, if you catch my meaning. Absinthe, too,” Seamus said. Diana took a sip, and winced. She tried to give it back to Seamus, but he didn’t take it, and nodded towards her. 

“Another sip. You’ve…well, you’ve earned it,” he said. He was gentler than usual. These nights brought out the kindness in him. Diana obliged, with a big sip. This moonshine, whatever special stuff Seamus kept, had a way of numbing the senses, more so than other moonshine. 

The world seemed to float, and Diana's brain slowed its thinking. A bead of sweat formed on her forehead, and she giggled. It took more of her effort to walk, one step in front of the other. 

Eugene was waiting for her outside his bedchamber. Months ago, it had been theirs. 

“C’mon, darlin,” he murmured, drunk as a skunk himself. He clapped her shoulder and not-so-gently ushered her towards the bed. His “loving” demeanor was gone, and as she turned towards him, his eyes were dark. At the sight, he shoved her towards the bed. 

“Now get undressed,” he snarled. 

Normally, Diana would’ve slapped him. The moonshine and the memories of Eugene’s rage stopped her. That, and she’d forgotten her knife. So instead, she did as he asked, and laid on the bed. Prepared now, physically and mentally, she laid there. Bare. Vulnerable. 

She fucking hated it. 

But she had never been more grateful for the poppy-laced moonshine. It dulled the sensations, kept her calm. Instead of the task being a misery, it was more of a nuisance. Something she had learned to tolerate, even if she couldn't imagine doing it sober. 

She looked down halfway through the deed. Her dear lord husband’s gut was swinging, and obscured any view she might’ve had. It wasn’t stopping him. She allowed her mind to wander. 

It wandered where one might think it did. Towards the figure on the hill from earlier. She supposed Arthur could be her if she’d been born a man, but that wasn’t really why she thought of him so frequently. She conjured scenes from a dime novel, and put Arthur's face to them. It made her feel almost good, especially if she closed her eyes. 

As Eugene moaned, her eyes snapped open again, startled. He moaned again, and she relaxed. Until it happened again. 

“Oh,” he groaned. “Oh, Miriam!”

Diana froze. Not a single muscle moved. Her husband was finished, now, which haunted her even more. His face, inches away from hers, gave no inclination that he’d known what he’d said. She turned over as he laid down beside her, and stayed staring at the wall until morning. 

When morning came and the roosters called, Diana was up and dressed in the same clothing from the previous day. Eugene still snored on his side of the bed, and she prepared herself for the early departure. Her husband was a monster of a man on a good day, and a hangover did nothing to improve the matter. 

As she crept downstairs, she headed straight for the kitchen, nursing a hangover of her own. The smell of tea coaxed her like a siren song, and she wandered towards the edge of the ship until she came face to face with Miriam. The pair started in tandem, and froze. A moment passed, and Miriam rushed forward and embraced Diana in a hug so tight it took her breath away. 

“Oh, Diana!” Miriam whisper-cried. “What are you doing out in the open?!”

“Your father was kind enough to take me to bed last night,” Diana replied, sighing as she said it. Nevertheless, she hugged Miriam with a similar enthusiasm. 

“O-oh,” Miriam said. She wasn’t shocked, per se, but such a thing is never comfortable to hear. “Was it…” she probed. She didn’t truly want to know, Diana could tell. 

“It was…normal,” Diana replied, still in a soft voice. “But-”

She was interrupted when a maid came in. It was Miriam’s governess, though she hardly needed one. 

“I think that will be all, Diana,” she said, a cold woman with an equally icy delivery. “Now go on. Mister Wegner will be downstairs any minute now, and you wouldn’t want any trouble, would you?”

Diana and Miriam froze once again. 

“No. I wouldn't want that. But I would like to say good morning to my stepdaughter and eat a meal with little interruption,” Diana replied, trying her hardest to emulate the same frigidity. 

“Mister Cripps has prepared a morning meal, has he not?”

“At this hour, likely not. And that does not preclude me from saying hello-”

“Miss Miriam does not need such tidings. There is no reason for you to confuse her further with your…habits. Habits and ideas,” the governess said. Her face was unmoving. She was winning, goddamn it. Miriam remained silent, a type of silence that Diana recognized. Fear. 

“Now, Miriam,” the governess said, turning towards the petrified girl. “Our lessons begin at nine. Go get yourself ready,” she commanded. 

“Yes, Missus Carmichael,” Miriam answered in a voice quieter than a church mouse. She squeezed Diana’s hand once before leaving, and was ushered up the stairs to her glorified cage. Diana was alone. She took another sip of tea, still coming down from her fear of Missus Carmichael when the true reality of her situation slammed into her chest. 

Eugene, her husband of years gone by, lusted for his own goddamn daughter. Not his stepdaughter, not his goddaughter, his own daughter, by blood. 

Diana rushed out of the kitchen and ran to the barn, hoping to catch Seamus before his work had started. She was lucky enough to find him alone in the barn, where the only prying ears belonged to the cows. 

“What in the-” he started, before Diana slammed the door behind her. 

“You’ll want more of that Poppy-shine before I start,” she said, grabbing her metal mess cup from her belt. “Now pour.”

He poured, but stopped her before she could take a sip. 

“I’m out of that good stuff - I gave the last of it to you last night. This is still strong,” he said. Diana rolled her eyes, and again went to take a sip. This time, Seamus let her, and the burn of the moonshine slid down her throat like nectar. The taste was rich, like a sweet plum.  

Seamus took a sip as well, and grabbed a piece of paper from his coat. 

“Look, Diana, there’s no easy way to say this, but-”

“Eugene wants to fuck Miriam,” Diana said quickly. She couldn’t bear holding it in another second. Seamus paused, his mouth agape. 

“What?”

“He said her name last night. At first I couldn’t believe it, but he said it again.” the gravity hit her again, and dread along with it. For once, Seamus looked surprised. 

“Well…shit,” he said, taking another sip. 

“That's your reaction? Seamus, we have to do something!” Diana was close to shouting. Seamus moved again to get the piece of paper. Diana couldn’t believe him. 

“Goddamn it, we need to do something-” she continued, and he slapped the paper down on the table. 

“Look,” he said. “Just look at it.”

Diana unfolded the paper and unveiled a bounty poster. On the poster was a picture of the man who’d saved her. In big letters at the top read: 

ARTHUR MORGAN.  WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE  $5000 REWARD BY THE STATE OF WEST ELIZABETH, AND THE COMMONWEALTH OF BLACKWATER.  IF FOUND, DO NOT APPROACH. ARMED AND DANGEROUS. CONTACT THE PINKERTON DETECTIVE AGENCY. 

After a beat, she spoke. 

“Where did you find this?”

“Cripps saw it at the station this morning. Poster just went up.” Seamus tried to gauge the expression on her face, to no avail. The gears behind her eyes turned and turned and turned. 

Seamus spoke up again, seemingly uncomfortable with the silence. Even the cows had stopped mooing. “Now, I knew there was something up with this feller when his old man came and started spouting nonsense about so-called ‘lost goods’. I’d guessed the pair were thieves, until I saw this.”

“Why are you showing this to me?”

“Well, I thought you’d just want to know–”

“That I’d had a savior delivered onto my doorstep?” 

“Wait, what?” Seamus looked confused. “I was just gonna warn you–”

“That there are bad men out there? Seamus, you do business with bad men everyday. I’m married to perhaps the worst man in New Hanover,” she replied.

Seamus sighed. 

“Listen Missus Wegner, I don’t think you’re thinking this through. I also don’t even know what you’re thinking of doing!”

This gave Diana pause - he was right. She knew for a fact that she was angry, that Miriam was a caged bird, and that her husband had said his own daughter's name as he found his completion the night before. She knew that she loved Miriam like something between a sister and a daughter, and that she had never felt something like that for anyone else. She also knew that the man who’d saved her, Arthur, was a good man. All her silly fantasies laid aside, he had saved her life at his own peril, without the expectation of money, sex or goods, or any combination thereof. 

She sighed for what must have been the umpteenth time. 

“You’re right. I-I just need rest, time to think,” she said. As soon as the words left her mouth, her eyes felt like they’d been attached to lead weights. The sleeplessness of the night sunk in. 

“Climb up to the hayloft and sleep there. I’ll tell you if something goes down,” Seamus said, and Diana whistled for Pluto. Diana climbed up as instructed to find a bedroll amidst the hay. Her sheepdog bound up the rafters to join her, and snuggled up against her instantly. Before Diana fell asleep, she was startled by Seamus climbing up to pass her waterskin. 

“Here, Missus Wegner. Oh,” he said, reaching behind him. He pulled out the bounty poster, along with two others. “I think these fellers are all working together. If you have some harebrained plan hatched involving that Arthur fella, you’ll probably encounter these guys too.”

“Thank you,” Diana responded, sleep beginning to overtake her. Seamus nodded, and started down the stairs. She opened the other two bounty posters, revealing the faces of two other men. One, a dark-haired mustachioed man named Dutch Van der Linde, and the other, a gray-haired older man named Hosea Matthews. She pondered the posters, and turned again.

“Seamus?”

“Yeah?”

“We need to save her. I will save her - even If it’s the last thing I do.”

Arthur Morgan

The gift box proved harder to balance on Ares’ back than expected. Ares was a stocky horse, but impatient, and loath to slow to balance a parcel on his back, and Arthur had had to slow the horse to a trot the whole journey back to the Overlook. By the time he had entered the forested trail back to camp, the steed was still restless. 

Suddenly, another surprise- an unexpected voice came from the trees. 

“Who’s there?” 

The voice asking that question usually belonged to Bill or Javier- sometimes even Charles. This time, the voice was a different one- harsher. 

“Micah?”

“That’s right, cowpoke, I’m back!” Micah came into view, his gigantic blonde mustache dripping with what must have been whiskey. 

“And here I thought they were gonna hang you in Strawberry,” Arthur said. He tried to hide his disappointment at his comrades' safe return. 

“You ain’t getting rid of me that easily! I don’t go down without a fight,” Micah retorted. 

“Certainly had us fooled. You damn near gave Lenny a heart attack- the poor kid was panicking when he came back with the news!” Arthur said. The memory was a vivid one - Lenny had interrupted a meeting with himself and Dutch in a frenzy, panting and saying Micah was in jail in some ‘vacation’ town west of the Dakota River.

“Ehh, he’ll be fine. One day you’ll have to learn to loosen up a little, Morgan,” Micah said. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and rode into camp, hitching his horse and grabbing the box from its back. He tried to hide his impatience to moderate success, but inside he was itching to know its contents. As he plopped on his cot, he did his best to open the box without tearing into it like some wild animal. 

The cloak he pulled out was thick and the color of snow and soot. Sheep’s wool, by the feel of it. It had the recognizable smell of leatherworking material and livestock, plus a slight floral - or was it blackcurrant? - scent. He almost got so caught up in it, running his hands over the woolen decadence, that he missed the note at the bottom of the box. The green ribbon on the note gave it away, and he gently set the cloak down beside him to read. 

Dearest Arthur,

Please accept this gift as a token of gratitude for saving my life just one week ago. Not a day goes by where I do not think of you and the kindness extended towards me. I am sorry that I had to cut our meeting short that day, and would love to speak with you - or share a drink with you - another time in the near future. Mister Cripps informed me of how delightful you were to have as company. I hope to see you again soon at Emerald Ranch. If you and your compatriots are still in need of money to get back on your feet, there is ample work to be found at the ranch, and Mister Cripps will happily buy any hides, if you continue your career as a hunter. 

Warm regards, 

Diana Wegner. 

On the other side of the paper was a small addition. 

P.S., if you should be in need of other business opportunities, feel free to visit and ask after myself or our foreman Seamus. I hope to hear from or see you soon. 

Diana. 

“Arthur?” Mary-Beth’s voice, like Tilly’s, carried itself on the air like birdsong. Arthur cleared his throat and looked to her, hoping she hadn’t been calling his name for the past few minutes. 

“Sorry, Mary-Beth, I- well I was miles away, I’m afraid,” he said. The girl giggled, and responded. 

“Aren’t we all! I understand. What’re you reading?”

“Just a letter, someone at the ranch southeast of here, offering some work. That and…well, they sent me something as a thank-you for helping ‘em out a few days ago,” he said, sheepishly. Mary-Beth noticed his expression, and visibly took note of the delicate cursive on the page he was reading, the packaging surrounding Arthur’s bed. 

“A new girl, huh?”

“Nah - well, yes but…” Arthur trailed off. “Not in the way you’re thinking, so no need to get all excited,” he said. 

“Okay,” Mary-Beth said, with a smirk. Like Tilly, Mary-Beth was like a kid-sister, barely eighteen years old. 

Arthur folded the letter neatly, placing it in a spare satchel hanging by his bed, and picked up the cloak, spreading it out before him. It was large and surprisingly light- when slung over his shoulders, it felt almost like a blanket. Its comfort, combined with the slowly encroaching nightfall, looked to lull him to sleep. He was just getting to lay down, the cloak still on his shoulder, when a voice emerged. 

“Arthur, my boy!” Dutch’s voice boomed over the ambient sounds of camp. 

Arthur cleared his throat. “Dutch,” he said, “How are we doing? Money-wise?”

“Not so great yet. Have you managed to find a score? Have you done any collecting for Strauss?”

Arthur had to hold back a groan at the mention of Strauss. Even Dutch agreed that it seemed more dignified to be a bandit than to do work for the Austrian loan shark, yet Strauss still remained with the gang for reasons unknown. 

“Not yet,” he said, “nor have I found a score. You know me, I’m better at carrying out the robbin’ than I am finding the people to do it.”

“I know, I’ve already asked others if they’ve found anything,” Dutch replied. “I’m sending some of the boys out to sniff around Valentine,” he said, turning towards the main campfire. “Bill, Lenny, you two head into town tomorrow. Take some of the ladies with you, and start scoping some stuff out. Micah, John, you two head to that ranch and see what you can rustle up…take Uncle with you, put him to work,” Dutch trailed off, looking around the camp to see who else he could delegate. 

Arthur cleared his throat, which had become oddly tight at the mention of the ranch. Dutch had to mean Emerald Ranch. He spoke before he could think. 

“Maybe we should just try to find jobs, Dutch. I thought we were lying low. I’ve already run into O’Driscolls, Hosea showed me some good hunting around here, and maybe we can just hide until Blackwater blows over,” he said. Dutch responded by staring at him, wordless. He remained quiet, an unreadable expression on his face, until Hosea spoke up, lifting his face from the book it was buried in. 

“He’s right, you know,” he said. “And it’s only what I’ve been telling you this entire time. We have a good contact at the ranch, both for selling our goods and he’s the foreman there. Townsfolk will buy our stories more if we start looking for work too - we can’t milk the “laid-off worker” angle for long if we don’t start working around here,” he continued. 

Arthur could see the gears turning in Dutch’s head. The need for fast money, a way to escape from all of this, was the first thing on the older man’s mind - but so was not getting shot to swiss cheese by the Pinkertons. 

Dutch’s voice went to a higher pitch, like it always did when he was stressed. “Fine,” he said. “Everyone gather round! Guards too, get over here!” he shouted to no one in particular. 

The camp denizens, sober or not, began to gather in a semicircle around the front of Dutch’s tent. His lover, the redheaded Molly O’Shea, peeked out from behind the front curtain - Dutch turned to her and took her hand before addressing the lackluster crowd. 

“My boy Arthur here…” Dutch began, gesturing to Arthur with his free hand, “has, along with Hosea, convinced me that what we need now is not only money, but honest money. Good honest work. So that…” he paused again. Arthur had once found the words “pause for effect” in Dutch’s speech notes, and had to stifle a laugh to himself. Dutch continued. “That…is what we shall do. Tomorrow I want all those able to start looking for good, honest work. There’s plenty of ranchers, drivers, railway men looking for hands, and we shall supply it. Keep an eye out for scores, but do not do anything unless you bring it to Hosea and I first!”

“We failed in Blackwater because we tried to do too much too fast, and didn’t coordinate,” Hosea continued off Dutch. “We will save lives with this - ours and the lives of others.” it looked like Dutch was going to keep on strategizing to the gang, but a member towards the back, cleared his throat. Karen and Abigail turned to reveal Micah, raising his arm. Where he was trying to make the gesture seem tough, Arthur conjured an image of schoolchildren. 

“While honest work seems a good plan for the rest of you…” he started, “some of us haven’t the uh.. temperament for such things, right boss?” he looked towards Dutch, trying to appeal to him. Dutch looked firmly back. 

“It’s like Hosea said, Micah,” he started, but a quick look exchanged between himself and Micah prompted a change in Dutch’s expression. Arthur watched their faces, trying to channel his inner Hosea - read them, their thoughts, their intentions. He came up with nothing. Dutch continued. 

“Any of you have any trouble, see me, Miss Grimshaw or Mister Pearson. We always need people at the camp and hunting if they don’t find a job,” he said. The gang gathered still, grumbled their assent, and stood there for a moment. The silence was heavy until Miss Grimshaw spoke up, with an authority befitting the de facto camp mother. 

“Well don’t just stand around, y’all, get back to whatever it was you were doing!” This spurred the camp back into motion, as if they’d frozen in time beforehand. Most of the men made a beeline back to the campfire, with a convenient box of whiskey bottles beside it. Abigail took the arm of the woman from the Grizzlies they’d rescued - Adler, was it? - who was crying softly. Little Jack, the resident 5 year old of the gang, took the woman’s other hand, and the pair led the crying woman to their tent, tucked behind the chuckwagon. For about an hour, the entire camp resumed it’s normal activities; singing around the fire, chopping firewood, playing poker, and, of course, drinking. 

After three beers and four of Uncle’s outrageous stories later, Arthur grabbed a bowl of venison stew and took the steaming bowl of Pearson’s cuisine back to his tent. Sitting down, he could hear Dutch’s voice faintly behind him, speaking in whispers. He took a bite, and wished that he’d had the stew Cripps had offered earlier. That had smelled like apricots and berries - in fact, it smelled like the cloak, spread out on the bed. Blackcurrant. It must grow near the ranch. 

Dutch emerged from the small wooded area behind Arthur’s tent-wagon, his whispered speech ending in a “we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Arthur turned, expecting to see Dutch walking with Molly. The pair often rendezvoused in the evenings away from camp, considering Dutch’s tent - and bed - were smack dab in the middle of camp. But, instead of seeing Molly with a messy red braid replacing her neat plait, Arthur saw Dutch emerge…with Micah. Micah instantly walked towards the chuckwagon, not even giving Arthur a second glance. 

“Thanks, boss,” was all the cowboy said. Dutch nodded, and turned to Arthur. 

“Goodnight, Arthur. Let me know how you make out tomorrow,” he said, and ducked into his tent without another word. 

That night Arthur had a dream; a red fox wandered the plains, and disappeared into a forest. 

Only once did the creature glimpse back at him.

[mvltisstuff]

RIP 2 my youth - lumax.

summary: after the events of season 4, lucas has a whole new level of grief to deal with

lucas sinclair x max mayfield

the smell of antiseptics and cleaned bed sheets wafted to lucas’ nose. he sat quietly in the chair next to the hospital bed, gripping onto max’s limp hand. the mumbling of the doctors outside was silenced in his mind by the replaying of his experience of the last week.

having to witness his best friend, and the girl he loves, get brutally attacked. his little sister, erica, having to give up her innocent eyes to the violence of the upside down. his friend and mentor was killed, and his other best friend, dustin, would never be the same.

his innocent eyes were killed by the underworld. he and his friends could never be the same again after all this trauma, but they could try. and they would.

everything had changed in such a little amount of time. lucas had learnt to cope with everything around him and the situation he was in. he learned to face the alternate reality of the world he lived in at such a young age. he felt like he was forced into a world he never wanted to be a part of, and he felt like it was his fault for ever trying to fix anything.

now, lucas was staring at max. she had bruised eyes, a neck brace, and her face seemed close to lifeless. her diagnosed coma was just a matter of time before she fought through it, or succumbed to the afterlife. lucas would kill to know what’s going on inside of her head, but he didn’t have any fight left.

he woke up every day, 10:00 AM on the dot to visit her. he got dressed, ate breakfast, and his mother drove him down the intensive care unit to see his best friend.

ever since he met max, she was his king. now that she was in this condition, he tried to step into that position and he now had to fill both shoes. he wrote all his words down, because he wasn’t able to convey them across and say them to her. he felt stupid. he felt like an idiot for believing she would wake up when all the doctors and tests and scans told him otherwise.

on the next week of seeing her, lucas brought his crinkled notebook paper with him. he shoved it into his jean pocket and sat in the same chair as always. his shaking hand slowly pulled out the piece of paper and began reviewing the smudged pen.

“i’m not good at this, as you know. if you can hear me. um,” lucas paused, not knowing if he should bother to continue. “dustin’s alright. he’s been having a hard time with eddie’s death. he’s trying to hide it from everyone so he seems tougher, but he’s just hurting more. uh… hopper came back, with eleven and joyce, and will and mike. so we’ve only hung out once. he’s alive, max. he’s alive and he’s ok. steve’s good. he misses you a lot. we got school off because of the…” lucas realizes what he’s saying and makes up a lie again. “the earthquake.

lucas shakes his head and rubs the back of his neck. “maybe when you come home, we can catch that movie sometime.”

his heart shatters a little, thinking about their missed date. he wanted it to be perfect, and his optimism took over his mind. not thinking about the aftermath that vecna would rain down on hawkins.

“i wrote you something. i didn’t build up the guts to say it, cause i know you’d make fun of me. you’ll make fun of me, but who really cares.” he shined a half smile, trying to make light of the pitch dark situation.

lucas begins with a shaky start of the letter. he reads it over and looks at max, her weak body on the bed with the small grains of fight she has left.

with a heavy sigh, lucas shoves the letter back into his pocket and takes out the book he’s reading to max. he reads the words on the page rather than words he actually means.

————————————————————————

laying down on his bed, lucas looks around his room. a few years ago, his young eyes would’ve seen new shiny figures, and silly dnd posters taped up around his bedroom. now, when lucas saw these things, he was a completely different room. his dusty figurines had lost their shine, physically and emotionally. his posters had become outdated and have become frighteningly close to a reality for the kids.

now looking at his situation, he felt the urge to tear down and shred all those posters. they weren’t an imagination anymore.

lucas stood up out of his bed and walked over to the biggest poster in his room. he grabbed onto the top and tore it down. the tape on the back was ripped off, and some of the chipped paint came with it. he saw the old colors of his bedroom and lightly grazed it with his fingers.

he stormed over to his bed, yanking out a cardboard box. the box was filled with old photos from holidays and summers with his friends. people like will, mike, dustin, his family. one in particular stood out to him.

————————————————————————

“steve can you look a little happier?” max protested.

“i’m taking a picture, max. not winning an award.” steve stood in his scoops ahoy uniform, awkwardly with the camera in his hand. “why do i need to look so thrilled?”

max had on her red, heart shaped sunglasses that sat on the top of her head. her ginger hair was waved and tucked neatly behind her ears. her pink cheeks were scrunched up in a light smile. her ice cream cone was dripping over the sides slightly onto her soft hands.

lucas stood next to her with his flowered button up over his white tee. his arm was over max’s shoulder. his bright neon shorts stood out at the bottom of the picture, showing the dirty sneakers at the bottom. his ice cream cup was to the side of his other arm, barely touched.

“he’s just mad stacey stood him up at enzo’s for bryan richards.” lucas whispered into max’s ear, making her grin shine in the bright lighting of the ice cream shop.

“hey! sinclair shut your mouth or i’m churching you triple for that scoop.” steve retorts back. lucas shakes his head in humility, and steve clicked the camera.

with a flash, the smiling picture of the two prints out and his handed to lucas.

————————————————————————

lucas started posting the photos on his wall, replacing the old game posters. he figured he didn’t need a game up there anymore, as it wasn’t as much of a game as it used to be. he covers up the chipped paint on his wall with the photos.

he sits back down on his bed with his eyes drawn to that one picture. he looks at his letter for max and rereads it and adjusts it until he thinks it’s perfect.

they protected each other, and even though they broke up, it was going to take a lot more to keep lucas away from her.

————————————————————————

“dear max,

i’m sorry. i never wanted to get you involved with this mess. when i was just 12, in middle school, playing a game in mikes basement, i thought of it as fiction. then will went missing, and i thought for a long time that nothing could be worse than this. i know you broke up with me, and i know you’re over me, but i should’ve known. i should’ve known something was off with you. i wish i could’ve helped you, but i know why you didn’t tell me. i wish i could’ve fixed it, but the tide went out and there’s no pulling it back in. it’s partially my fault. if you’d never believed me in the arcade, or if i never bothered to tell you, you could be here with me right now. talking and moving around, skateboarding and shit. i knew from the first day i saw you in the hallways that i wanted to go through this with you. i trusted you immediately and your strength was undefeated. max, i’d go through this a million times more to keep you out of this mess. the truth? i love you, max. i wish this was still an imagination. i wish i could shake myself awake and force myself out of this nightmare. this all still feels like a bad dream and i’m waiting for the day i wake up, come to your house, and we can hang out like nothing. as messed up as it sounds though, this mess and your situation has really opened my eyes wider than they’ve ever been. i’m done believing what the doctors have to say, because at this point, i’m done believing what anyone has to say about this shitty world. i need you, max. i cant go through this without you. so basically what i’m saying, vecna can bring down hell on us because he has nothing against us.

love,

lucas :)”

————————————————————————

lucas strutted his way through the hospital halls. confidently walking through the bright lights in his baggy sweatpants and hawkins zip up. he almost thought about getting rid of it now, because to him, hawkins is nothing but a lie at this point.

he stormed into max’s room like something had changed. it was all the same, besides her limbs were adjusted and her blanket had been pulled up, her brittle hands dropping over it.

lucas stood by her bedside, abandoning the chair next to it. he ripped the letter out of his jacket pocket and began to read it. beginning with another shaky, “dear max,” he clearly articulates every word as much as he means them. he gets halfway through to look at her, even though she looks still, except the slight rise and fall of her chest.

lucas finishes off the letter with a light, love lucas. he folds it up and places it onto her bedside table, nudging it under the bouquet of sunflowers. he looks back to see max, her expression different than before.

her nose scrunches up and down, forming small wrinkles on the bridge. lucas doesn’t think much of it, but he still makes note of it. her eyes twitch, and lucas gets more enthusiastic. “max?” he whispers, barely audible.

“max, hey.” he moves to the other side of the bed, gripping her hand. her iris’s rapidly move under her thin eyelids. “i’m here, max, lucas! hey, max!” he shakes it slightly, to not cause her more pain.

her bloodshot eyes finally open to reveal the blue shade of her eyes, surrounded by a flood of pinkish-white. her eyes move around the room frantically, her lips starting to move around the intubation. her eyes finally land on her one, lucas, and she rests her eyes a bit.

“max! you- you’re… i’m gonna call the nurse, max. holy shit!” he exclaims, abusing the call button on her remote.

one of the nurses comes sauntering in, not expecting anything. she looks around at max’s condition, looks down at the chart and looks back. her eyes widen and she comes closer. she presses a button on her pager and the doctors voice comes through. she mutters some medical terms that lucas doesn’t understand. surprisingly not yet, even though he’s been there every day.

the doctors come rushing in and another pool of nurses come in. “hey maxine, welcome back.” the doctor says, shining his flashlight in her eyes. lucas stands in the corner, completely star-struck at the sight in front of him. he’s scared, relieved, and all his emotions are coming together. “she’s breathing over the tube, i think we’re all set to take it out.” he sighs out. “i’ve never seen something like this. this young girl’s a force.”

one of the nurses walks over to lucas, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “honey, why don’t you step out into the hallway while they help her out?” lucas was ready to refrain, but he decides to not cause any problems. the nurse escorts him out of the room and to the chairs in the hallway.

lucas runs over to the public phone, dialing steve’s number into the phone. it rings and he frantically says, “steve! she’s awake! max, she- i saw her! she’s alive, steve!”

“slow down, sinclair. she’s awake?” steve yelps out.

————————————————————————

lucas sits in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, bouncing his leg and cracking his knuckles. he sees steve and dustin walking toward him like they’re on a mission. lucas shoots up and meets them halfway. “dustin! she’s up! she looked at me and- they’re taking her for testi-“

“hey, kid. calm down. it’s ok, we’re here.” steve says, patting lucas’ shoulder.

dustin sits down in the chair next to lucas and looks at him. “she’s really alive?”

“y-yeah. i think so, dustin.”

“jesus christ.” dustin whispers.

they wait, and wait. until one of the nurses is spotted by lucas. she walks over hesitating, “l-lucas?”

“yeah?” he stands up in front of her.

“she’s ok. we took her in for some tests. this is truly a miracle, we’ve never seen anything like this. she’s currently on ivs for medication and nutrients, but she’s awake.”

“can i see her? please.”

“yes, we can take you in a few minutes. she’s going to be confused, and probably scared, but it’ll help if she sees someone she knows and loves.”

his heart skips at the last sentence, but he knows he has to go in there. “oh, lucas.” the nurse is holding out a piece of paper. “this was on the floor of her room. do you have an idea of who’s it might be?”

“it’s mine. i left it there.”

“i figured, sweetheart. i didnt read any of it but i saw a name on there.” she smiles sweetly at him and directs him to the room.

he turns back to look at steve and dustin, who are now both sitting down. “get in there, sinclair.”

————————————————————————

lucas walks into the room, suddenly nervous. his anxiety was creeping up on him again, but he wouldn’t let it take control. this was his girl, and nothing was stopping him now. he was hesitant to walk in, but he stopped in the middle of the room.

a crackling of his name escaped max’s mouth. the rasp of her voice sounded painful, but all his anxiety evaporated hearing it.

“hey stalker.” max forces out, taking a few seconds in between each word. “nice letter.”

her voice flipped a switch in lucas. and after the tide comes back in, lucas is able to swim to shore.

and hearing her voice, he can breath again.

[hello-is-a-start]

Entries to a friend that's gone

--- When I first met her I immediately thought of her as my sister’s friend. Simply because they were the same age, they knew each other. Back then we were simply people that walked by each other…It wasn’t until southeast that I was pretty much forced to interact with her. Really, first impressions; I thought she was loud, outgoing and pretty entertaining. She always had something to say, seemed like she could get along with anybody. As for me I was quiet, introverted and stayed in my own circle.

If we hadn’t been roommates in highschool, I’m sure we would’ve never been close friends…

Thinking back to Southeast days leaves an ache, we talked every day; shared secrets and traded stories. We shared our interests and spoke of dreams. We even woke each other up for breakfast. We both loved having oatmeal, surprisingly. If it was oatmeal day we’d try to wake up early that day. and depending on who woke who up was a totally different experience for either person. She had kicked our other roommate in the face once for trying to wake her up and trying to pull the blanket off her… I would often wake her up gently whereas she would start kicking the bottom of the bunk if I refused to get out of bed. It became a funny occurrence for us to scramble to the cafeteria in the mornings so that we wouldn’t miss out on breakfast.

Being her roommate brought many experiences, knowledge and a first deep connection to someone. I looked up to her at the time, she was so mature and experienced more of the world then me; who had just come from a small isolated town…I feel like she brought along an expansion to my world, introduced me to people and has influenced a lot of where I am today… I can’t imagine how my life would’ve been if I never met her.

I saw her last in the summer of July last year…after that I cut her off. I didn’t initially plan on cutting her off for so long…When I was ready I was going to reach out to her again when the time came…when I was ready…

Something horrible happened before…back in July.

That was one of many reasons why I cut her off…suppose I just wanted to take the time to recover and in reality she was going somewhere I didn’t want to follow…I thought I was a ride or die for her, but I guess there’s a limit to how much people can handle…There was always something in her life, she’d call me in the middle of the night; drunken talks of fear, addictions, and suicidal tendencies or talks of the men in her life…I used to say chaos followed her around like a curse… she never got a break but if I am honest I feel like she went out to look for the chaos…I feel as though that chaos is what caught up to her in the end.

Ten years or so ago, I met her… and just four days ago, she passed away.

The guilt is eating me up, a weight on my chest and makes my head feel so heavy…I loved her as my best friend and thoughts of her over the year came in fleeting times…I wanted to reach out but my stubbornness won out over what I wanted, I was the one who cut her off...

She tried to add me on facebook three weeks ago…and I deleted the friend request. She was in the hospital…she was sick…I can’t help but feel like she was trying to reach out to me and I deleted it…why did I do it?

She’s gone now and it’s too late…

I just want to tell her I’m sorry…I wish I could talk to her, she never judged me for absolutely anything. Never made me feel judged... I told her everything, shared everything… all my secrets, all my insecurities, my fears, my likes, my dislikes, my hate and my trauma… she knew everything about me.

I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone like her…I don’t think I’ll ever have that connection and understanding again…

--------

Its been two days since I wrote this and I am still trying to process my emotions. I’m stuck from disbelief and pain. Whenever I hear her name I feel a pang of pain in my chest. I can’t even bring myself to say her name.

Her funeral was two days ago. I went to her Wake for a brief time, when I walked in, there was a multitude of people. I really did try to hold myself together, I felt as though I couldn’t cry in a place of strangers; So I focused on the banner over the casket.

There were many pictures of her, each picture of her smiling; she really was an attractive soul…most memories I have of her she was bright, laughing, and generally a caring person…I always enjoyed making her laugh…One picture caught my eye immediately, but I was too far away to make sure…

Everyone prayed, the priest gave his sermon and much too soon I was allowed to walk up to the casket…The picture, I recognized immediately; That picture was one of the last days I saw her…she wore a white top, jeans I think; shorts. Sun glasses and a pair of beautiful beaded ear rings I bought for her that day…I was checking out of a hotel and I noticed a small store in the corner, immediately the ear rings caught my eye. They were set in black with traditional colored beads. I initially wanted it for myself but I didn’t have pierced ears, but she did. So I bought them for her.

She complained, trying to convince me not to buy them but I just told her to ‘shut up and let me spoil you’ she laughed…and she looked so happy and wore them that day.

She took that very picture near a river next to me, we sat there for hours and talked.

I was lost in my memories for a while… and then I saw her…

I knew she wasn’t going to look the same, I knew it but seeing her had felt like I wasn’t seeing her. I just kept repeating to myself that she was right here, and she really was gone… the disbelief was still there, the pain was there.

I wanted to talk to her but I couldn’t, there were too many eyes watching me. Too many watching and listening… I couldn’t. so I simply leaned forwards, brushed her hair… I noticed how thin it was and for the moment I wondered how thick it had been in the past.

I was shaky, my hands shook as I touched her forehead and my eyes watered as I touched cold skin. I wanted to sob, wanted to just let it out but I could feel the eyes at my back…I spoke to her in my mind and it became too much.

After signing my name on the visitors list, I again looked at her. Spoke to her. And with one last goodbye of actually seeing her I kissed her forehead…

It felt like it was too much…the tears wouldn’t stop. Looking at her had brought a torrent of memories and emotions.

I had to leave and I did, I needed to get away from the prying eyes watching me…I just wanted to isolate myself and cry… ------------

It was her birthday on Tuesday and I went to go see her briefly to wish her a happy birthday. She turned 28. I had a smoke with her at her grave, there was bugs everywhere and it was incredibly annoying because the bugs kept getting in my face. I buried a cigarette under the dirt to share it with her.

Weird how I had a lot to say to her but when I actually go there my mind goes blank. So I simply sat in silence there. It was probably only a few minutes before I was picked up and honestly I felt like I didn’t spend enough time there with her but I didn’t want to annoy my sister into waiting for me just a little bit longer… I still feel guilt, pain and a deep longing for the past…I wanted to sit with her just a little longer to talk to her…

When I got home I kinda isolated myself into the room. Time seemed to pass quick. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep.

It wasn’t a deep sleep, just a brief moment where I felt as though I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore and promptly fell asleep.

I dreamt of her.

A very short dream of us sitting together, I don’t remember what we spoke about. We were sitting somewhere near the lake, on an outcropping of rocks close to the edge of the water. She was wrapped in what looked like an oversized blanket. She said she was cold and used it to keep warm and dry. It was raining, a light shower that really wasn’t that noticeable. It was nice and it smelled of rain in the breeze and it was so incredibly warm, it felt like I was engulfed in warm water.

I might not remember what we spoke about but I remember what I felt, I was calm. Really, it wasn’t much different from every time I saw her, we just sat down and talked; time always seemed to pass by quick whenever we were together.

She started getting upset at some point, ranting of things I don’t remember but it had dampened the mood. She was silent for a long while, dazed as she looked off to the water before she started fumbling with the blanket; like she remembered something. And then she pulled out a bottle from behind her as it was hidden in the folds of the blanket. She held it up with a look of triumph and held it out to me with a wide smile and a giggle, god, she looked so happy to show me…we laughed. I still remember the sound of her genuine laughter.

It was after this that I woke up.

I cried, but I was thankful. I was glad to be able to see her, to talk to her even if it was just in my dreams. -------------

God damn I miss her so much.

I went through my old computer’s pictures and videos…and I saw her.

It was like a short trip down memory lane, it’s so hard to believe that it’s been ten years since I first met her. Really met her. We had been so close in highschool.

I remembered how well she used to take care of me. I also remember how much shit she used to get me into.

Granted… I always made that choice, didn’t I? it was never her fault. I miss her so much, who she used to be. Some days when I was with her she would go back to her old self, sometimes.

I miss talking to her, she never judged me of anything. Absolutely anything.

I could’ve told her something nasty and she would either laugh or even give me serious advice.

I remembered something from before. She asked me if I wanted to move in with her. If I would move.

I said we’ll see. Every time I think of her I hate myself just a little bit more, if she were alive I wouldn’t mind if she hated me but then again maybe that’s why I stayed away.

I was afraid

What if she did hate me? ------------

-I’m so sorry Stacey. I should have apologized a long time ago…I should have reached out. Did you try to reach out to me? I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.

I hope you’re happy, at peace wherever you are. I know you weren’t very religious, but I don’t know, maybe you had turned to god at some point while you were sick. I just hope you’re laid at rest now.

I miss you and I know I’ll always think of you, in time I know this pain and guilt will lessen with time.

I just wish I could sit with you and talk again. -----------------------------

My thoughts of you are fleeting

A random song could play and I’d thing of “Hey, Stace would like this song.” Or “Hey, we sang this song together before.” “We drank to this song.”

Random things could happen and I’ll remember something about you.

For a while now, sometimes I forget and it’s so easy to think that you’re still out there; to pretend you're still alive out there doing Stacey things... Push the truth in the back of my mind and go on with my life. That I’ll see you again if I go to the city and just message you… but that’s not gunna happen.

When you were sick, I had this thought, this hope, that you were gunna pull through and get better. It was highly unlikely, I had pinned all my hope on a miracle. I didn’t believe it. Of course I didn’t believe it when the miracle I was hoping for didn’t happen.

I’m so sorry I wasn’t there; I'm sorry I wasn't a good friend...

[hiddensecrets512]

Afraid to Feel

“Why do you hurt yourself?” I stare at my reflection in the mirror. A figure so familiar yet foreign. I didn’t recognize this body anymore. Tainted by the hands of others starting at the age of 3. The trauma runs deep and only grows deeper as more take what they want.

I was only 4 when the cops interrogated me for the first time. Asking me what had happened while I sob, not understanding. The innocence ripped from me at such a young age by a family friend. A child shouldn’t have to explain to the police what she barely understands. I didn’t know what had happened. I still don’t. This is where the trauma begins. 

I was 14 the first time I fell in love. This was also the first time someone I truly trusted more than anybody hurt me in unforgivable ways. He made me believe he owned me, because that’s what true love is isn’t it? I couldn’t say no to anything he wanted out of the fear of what he would do. I never had a choice. Isn’t that fucked up? After that relationship ended, I couldn’t look at guys the same way. I was disgusted by them. It wouldn’t be until I was 18 and fell in love again where I would regain that trust.

I was 15 when I agreed to skip class to hang out with a guy. I never ended up getting to see him because he got arrested for raping dozens of women. I’m scared to imagine how that would’ve gone otherwise. 

I was 16 when I tried dating again. It had only been a week before he messaged me, drunk, to insult me and say some scary things. He broke up with me during that tirade. Later he told me he didn’t mean any of it because he was drunk. I tried to forgive him and make it work, I’m too broken to be alone. He didn’t want it to work. Now, after the fact, I’m too scared to think of what would’ve happened if I was there in person and words weren’t enough.

I was 17 the next time. I thought things would be different. He was different. Until we made it official. He wouldn’t stop pleading me for sex, even after I told him how uncomfortable it made me. We hung out once and it was a mistake. We were alone, and he started to make advances. He grabbed me but I ran away. If I wasn’t fast enough, who knows what would’ve happened.

I was 18 when I fell in love again. This time was supposed to be different. And it was until it wasn’t. He helped me love myself again, helped me regain the trust and love for men. So gentle, sweet and understanding. Then, he got fed up with all the behaviors he loved me for. I love you’s turned into I hate you’s. He would insult me over every aspect of my being. He claimed the body he fell in love with was one he now despised. Yet I stayed with him for another year. Because this was love wasn’t it? 

I was 20 when I learned that nobody can be trusted. Not even someone I would’ve considered my best friend. You stole another piece of my innocence, ripping my soul into more pieces. I’m convinced there isn’t any left. You handled my body in ways that cannot be forgiven. 

The reflection that stares back at me scares me. I see a broken, tattered soul, yet someone who is so strong that she still stands here in this world despite everything she’s been through. Forcing herself through more pain because that's all she’s ever known. One day, we will find peace and telling my story is only the beginning.