#the face of a man realizing he should not have brought his teenage son to a roast

[jolteonmchale]

[fafnir19]

Witchcraft isn't for Boys

As I walked into the house, I couldn't help but feel a sense of resentment towards my new stepmother, Sandra. I’m Luke and have recently turned 18. As I don’t have any income as student, I still live together with my dad. My father, Joe, had recently remarried, and now we were moving in with her. There was just something about her that rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was her overly cheerful demeanor or her constant need to be in control. Whatever it was, I couldn't stand her. Months went by, and Joe was away on another one of his business trips. It was during this time that I stumbled upon Sandra's dark secret – she was a witch. And not just any witch, but a powerful one. Sandra was faced with a dilemma. Should she kill me to protect her secret or train me to become a witch like her? Ultimately, she chose to train me, even though it was highly unconventional for witches to train boys. As my training progressed, so did my magical abilities. With each spell I mastered, my athleticism seemed to grow as well. I was transforming into an athletic jock.

One day, overwhelmed with heartbreak, I approached Sandra and asked if there was a spell that could make me more irresistible to the opposite sex. She gave me a choice - I could have the spell but at the cost of my name. After much contemplation, I decided that sacrificing my name was worth becoming utterly irresistible. The ritual was performed, and Sandra bestowed upon me the name Logan. The spell worked like a charm, and all the girls started chasing after me. However, the spell had some unintended side effects. My wardrobe underwent a drastic change; I found myself wearing tight pants, open shirts with rolled-up sleeves, and loafers. I looked like a character straight out of a trashy romance novel.

On top of that, since it was a parent's privilege to name their child, I now saw Sandra as my motherly mentor. I had transformed into Sandra's ideal son, a far cry from the teenager who detested her presence.

One day, out of the blue, Grandmaster Dorian paid us a visit, only to discover me by Sandra's side. Needless to say, he was livid that Sandra had taken it upon herself to train a boy without his permission. Sandra apologized and defended her decision, highlighting my great talent. A few days later, while Sandra was away, Dorian came by again, this time with a peace offering for me. He brought clothing more fitting for a wizard - tight black velvet pants, a form-fitting black silk shirt, and black slippers. Dorian suggested that I try on the clothes. Intrigued and flattered, I obliged, even if I thought they looked somewhat silly. Once I had the clothes on, I realized they were enchanted. My body hair vanished, and my family jewels shrunk. The silk shirt opened by itself, revealing my hairless chest.

To my astonishment, Dorian explained that it was my punishment for being trained without his consent. My shrunken balls would make me obedient to him, and the loss of body hair and exposed chest would serve as a reminder that I was merely a boy who needed to be guided by a strong man.

Dorian took me to his place, and with a snap of his fingers, I found myself on his couch. His magic compelled me to spread my legs as he positioned himself in between them, stating that he was going to make me his apprentice. Much to my surprise, my body responded with arousal. Dorian, wearing a wicked grin, remarked that it seemed my "engagement" with him had already been decided. Under Dorian's tutelage, I began to learn the art of dark magic. With every lesson, I became smoother, more conceited, and a bit of a bad boy. Dorian's plan came to fruition, for I transformed into a smooth-talking, snobbish bad boy. I now donned tight black pants, boots, and hip-length bomber jackets that accentuated my athletic physique. My hair was slicked back, and I had become a damn good-looking young, arrogant, and ruthless warlock.

Sandra was no longer viewed as a maternal mentor in my eyes. Dorian asked Sandra how she felt about what he had done to me. He insinuated that he had been too lenient with her in the past. Furthermore, he hinted her that he would soon make me her superior, eagerly awaiting the day I would rule her with an iron fist and cruelty.

[mischiefbuckley]

for eddie it’s having to have a conversation with christopher and all the nerves and feelings and emotions and acceptance he will now have to face with finally coming to terms with his sexuality (if it does end up happening in season 8 depending on what happens in the season 7 finale or whenever the start of eddie’s sexuality arc begins) with raising a teenage son and having that freedom that was taken away from him from a young age of becoming a father too soon, being forced into a marriage due to the religious views inflicted upon him from a young age and then going off and enlisting in the army to endure more pain and trauma and come back feeling abnormal and never realizing that he’s been playing a part and hasn’t had the chance to be normal with his true self and finally when he does decide to break away from his family in texas and experience some freedom away from home in a new city and surrounding himself with new people who give him that sense of family that he has never truly felt with his family because they expect something from him as the man of the house

eddie meets buck, which at first he had reservations and didn’t understand why he didn’t like eddie at all. all eddie has wanted is to do right by his son and trying to provide and be there for him. by doing right by his son, he wants him in the best school that is adapting and considerate to his disability of cerebral palsy, eddie wants to be able to please his every want and desire, including reconnecting with his estranged wife to be able to figure out where this relationship goes and what that means for christopher. eddie is still needing to play the part and he enjoys himself in the idea that they would go back to normal, but that’s not the case. unfortunately due to some circumstances out of everyone’s control, shannon passes away after she had just brought up getting a divorce after eddie was going to propose to her and she announced that she wasn’t pregnant at all after her pregnancy scare. eddie after shannon passes away feels this need to continue to chase this image of a perfect family with the dotting wife and working husband with their son. he tries to find shannon in other woman, even going after and seeking a doppelgänger lookalike named kim, because to him that is what is perceived as normal and he never did get closure on shannon. shannon’s ghost continues to haunt eddie in many ways because he ultimately feels like he failed at the one thing he should have been good at. you need to be married to a woman and raise children together and be the provider of the household. those were images and reality that eddie grew up surrounded around because of the culture and religious background from his family.

when all along who has been your day one with christopher. who got you connected with carla, who always made time for you when you wanted to take christopher out, when you needed someone to watch christopher, even when just hanging out during the week and enjoying each other’s company. who made it possibly for your son with cerebral palsy to ride a skateboard and enjoy the memory because buck was able to figure something out. buck has always been in eddie’s corner and cares so much about him as he does his son. eddie trusts buck so much he’s in his will (WHICH IF DOESN’T GET BROUGHT UP IN THE FINALE MISSED OPPORTUNITY) as Christopher’s legal guardian (and I’m guessing buck is also listed as the power of attorney as well with knowing how unhinged he is) eddie reached out for him when he was shot and bleeding out and even eddie while bleeding out in the engine, was still asking buck if he was okay despite him being the one that was shot. eddie and buck have shared multiple heart to heart conversations about each other and how they feel and eddie constantly reminds buck that he does matter, he matters to him so much, he matters to christopher. when eddie was going through leaving the 118 and attending therapy and trying to grasp control over his emotions and how eddie’s afraid that he will “never feel normal.” it’s the fact that buck would go and stay with christopher while eddie would go to therapy and would go and check in on him. with buck getting struck by lightning you see eddie experience pain again in a new light. it’s always buck that has endured these moments of panic whenever something happens to eddie while on call, but we see eddie run after buck and continuously yelling “buck” as he is dangling off the ladder and when they finally do get him down, bobby makes eddie drive the ambulance because it is the only control that eddie has at the moment that he can control because he can’t control what is happening to buck and then the idea of seeing yet again another person you love die in an ambulance isn’t the best way to see your best friend, so driving the ambulance seems like the right call. even while at the hospital, eddie can’t seem to control his emotions even around christopher and we see this when eddie sneaks christopher in the room and he starts asking eddie all these questions and he can’t answer them and it’s hen answering because Eddie is trying to keep it together in front of his son, but can’t help but stare at his best friend while he’s in a coma and not knowing what would happen. everything seems to be well with buck, but eddie memorized the 3 minutes and 17 seconds because that will never leave him. his best friend was dead for 3 minutes and 17 seconds and none of them could do anything about it. he doesn’t try to get buck to adjust to his new reality. he lets him come to eddie and initiate the conversation because he knows that buck will always come to him when he needs to talk.

and coming around back with season 7 and especially after last nights episode and with how eddie and how his storyline is currently going we are introduced to the problem of christopher feeling disconnected and not remembering his mom’s voice, so we get the ghost of shannon as he reads her letter and eddie is trying to figure out how to handle a situation now with his teenage son that he wasn’t prepared for. so he asked buck for help and it’s funny how it goes full circle and ends up going back to eddie and kim, but then we get eddie being social and hanging out with tommy, which good for him he needs to go out and about and enjoy his life like he took on so many different responsibilities and didn’t get to enjoy himself in his early 20s. and yk buck’s jealously (but I’ll circle back to that in a later analysis) but it’s the fact that eddie just found it so easy to hangout and invite tommy to the basketball games and be able to just feel relaxed and excited because he yk writes it on the calendar. then we get the scene between eddie and buck where he comes out to him and like that scene really is something because eddie just stays there and listens to buck. he was more shocked by anything that tommy is gay, but he told buck that nothing would change between them. it’s always buck and eddie at the end of the day. and they hugged and it felt very sweet because it shows that despite anything and everything that can come their way, they will always be there for each other. but with eddie you have him still trying to find closer with the relationship he has with shannon and that’s what the basis of his storyline has been in season 7 with the whole kim plotline. eddie with his relationship with marisol like his previous relationship with ana, it is more if Christopher feels comfortable around them he feels happy. But when have we genuinely heard him go out of his way to talk about them in a way that makes sense for someone to talk about someone that they are in a relationship with.

Especially with yk the season 7 change to ABC, like Marisol is giving nothing to the plotline at all except just being his girlfriend while eddie is doing the whole going after the doppelgänger of his late dead wife and giving more of a dramatic arc to the whole thing. eddie pursuing kim was him trying to grasp some closer on the whole situation between him and Shannon. he is able to control the narrative in his mind and prior to kim showing up at the station with the tray of brownies, eddie had done a decent job at managing to keep all his worlds apart and keep the distance between everything in his life and I think that is his biggest challenge that he has never had to confront reality and that will be a big challenge for him to overcome whenever his sexuality arc comes into play. because currently we left off with season 7 episode 9 on the ending being that eddie was getting off of his chest everything he would have wanted to say to shannon but never got the chance too because she died and in a way kim was trying to help the guy out, but it ended up backfiring in both of their faces because marisol and christopher walk in and christopher immediately calls out and says “mom” and it all just ties back to how neither one of the diaz boys have really accepted and moved on from shannon. eddie in the sense that was his first everything and how could you move on from the death of a spouse, especially after she had asked for a divorce prior to passing away and christopher I mean that was his mom. we have seen that since christopher lost her at a young age, he did attend therapy, but gradually over the years it gets brought up again and again because how will a child ever truly get over the death of their parent. they both have tried to accept and try to move on, but both of their coping throughout the years has been at the best of their ability. eddie is stuck and has been stuck in a place of not being able to move on and still we have the next episode to see what happens, but with this distance and isolation that Ryan talked about Eddie experiencing at the end of season 7, it does make me wonder how this could tie into a potential coming out/acceptance arc for Eddie

anyways some of my random thoughts I’ve had especially after last nights episode so if you read all the way through, thanks homies I ramble a lot I know lmao

[lyranova]

Order: Vanilla Cake with the “Spring Day” toppings for Grey and Gauche!

Word Count: 1,100

Warnings: None

Grey and Gauche walked calmly down the street side by side, holding each other's hands, enjoying the nice spring day. But it wasn’t just the two of them together on this nice little walk, they had two little ‘guests’ with them.

“ C’mon old man hurry up!��� Aloys, Grey and Gauche’s 12 year old son, shouted as he ran up ahead a bit.

“ Hey I’m not an old man!” Gauche told his son as Grey giggled from beside him, suddenly Gauche turned to look at the young five year old girl in his arms as she began to squirm. “ What’s wrong Maelie?”

“ I wanna go with big brother!” Maelie whined as she tried to flip out of her fathers arms, Gauche pouted a bit.

“ You don’t want to stay with me? I thought you liked me more than Aloys.” Gauche muttered, and Maelie stopped squirming so she could look her father dead in the eye.

“ No, I like big brother more than you papa. You’re boring.” Maelie told Gauche honestly, Grey began to giggle even more as she saw the shock on her husband's face, and she could have swore she heard his heart break at his daughters words.

“ Gauche, maybe you should put her down so she can go with Aloys.” Grey said softly as he looked at her. Gauche sighed, bent down, and let Maelie stand on the ground.

“ W-Wait for me big brother! I wanna go too!” Maelie shouted as she took off running towards Aloys, who stopped walking, held his hand out towards his sister, and as she grabbed it the two began to walk.

“ Don’t go too far you two, please!” Grey called after them, Aloys gave his parents the thumbs up. The two children stayed within sight of their parents, but were far enough away they couldn’t hear what they were talking about.

Gauche shook his head, his own daughter had betrayed him and broken his heart. If he were being honest, he thought she wouldn’t say he was ‘boring’ until she at least hit her early teenage years, but alas he was wrong.

“ They’re growing up so fast aren’t they?” Grey asked softly as she leaned her head against her husband's arm, he glanced down at her for a moment before nodding and gently moving his arm to wrap around her waist.

“ They are, especially Maelie. It seems like only yesterday we brought her here for the first time.” Gauche said fondly as he recalled that day. Maelie had only been a year old, and the Bulls wanted to have a ‘family’ day with all its members and their kids. So everyone decided to pack up their kids and take them to a small town nearby that was known for its Peach Blossom trees.

“ What about Aloys? He’s almost a teenager now, don’t you think he’s grown up too fast?” Grey asked curiously, and Gauche frowned at his wife.

“ What’re you talking about? He’s only-.” Gauche suddenly stopped as he began to count, and he realized that Grey was right, Aloys was almost a teenager!

“ I-…when did that happen?” Gauche suddenly asked, which made Grey nod in agreement. “ Yesterday he was only 8 or 9?”

“ I know, I didn’t realize it either until yesterday when he asked me if he could go on a mission with us next time.” Grey said with a sigh.

“ He wants to go on a mission with us?” Gauche asked softly, his wife nodded. As he thought about it, he wasn’t too surprised that Aloys was asking to go on missions with them. When Hikari was his age she started going on small, easy, missions with her parents. So it was only natural for Aloys to want to do the same.

The couple walked silently together, wondering where the time had gone, and thinking about all the things that were still to come, whe Grey suddenly stopped in her tracks.

Gauche made a small ‘hm’ noise as he also stopped to look at his wife. He noticed she was staring at a particular tree, and his gaze followed hers until they landed on the same tree.

“ Is that the tree we all carved our names on?” Gauche asked, Grey nodded before she began to walk towards it with him following behind her.

The two walked a bit across the grass until they came to stand in front of the lone peach tree that stood beside a small pond. Grey walked up to it with a small smile on her face as she saw the carving of their names in the trunk of the tree.

‘Gauche, Grey, Marie, Aloys, and Maelie Adlai. Chaotic on the outside, but wholesome on the inside.’

“ We should’ve never let Marie write that quote on the tree.” Gauche grumbled, but Grey just shook her head.

“ No, I like the quote. I think it fits our family perfectly.” Grey told him as she suddenly leaned her head against his shoulder.

“ I remember the first time you brought me here, there were so many people and it was so loud and chaotic. I remember you felt so guilty about bringing me out here because I began to get anxious, but then as we continued walking we ended up finding this tree. It was all by itself, and not a single person was sitting here or paying it any attention. So you and I sat underneath it, trying to catch our breaths, but instead of going back into the crowd we ended up spending the rest of the day here.” Grey recalled fondly, and Gauche blushed a bit and he smiled fondly.

“ I remember that day too, and I’ll admit I still feel guilty about bringing you out when there were a lot of people. But…I’m glad you remember the good parts of that day, instead of the bad ones.” Gauche muttered softly, and Grey smiled a bit.

“ I don’t have time to focus on the bad things anymore,” Grey told him, Gauche frowned and looked down at her. “ Because there’s a lot more good things happening around me these days than bad.”

Gauche couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat at her words. Sure Grey was still shy and nervous like always, but ever since they got married and had their kids he noticed she had grown a bit more confident, and it made him so proud and happy to see her this way.

As the couple stood there quietly, Aloys and Maelie came running up to them, and the family decided they would spend this lovely Spring Day together, underneath the lone Peach Tree.

Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you all have a good day 🥰!

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It’s Winter! I wrote this on my break at work, I hope it’s okay!

Time of the Month

Something was off today.

She was off today.

He could feel it.

Her spunky energy in the room was missing. As they worked on their play, Emmanuel couldn’t pinpoint what the problem was, but there was one, that much was true. The always cheerful and happy Brigitte was quiet and distant today.

He took note of the way she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, desperately wanting to ask her what was wrong.

“Excuse me,” she stood up with caution, carefully grabbing her purse and placing it over her shoulder.

His heart began to race. Had he said something wrong? Why was she leaving?

Emmanuel lightly touched her arm, “where are you going?”

“I need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back,” she said softly.

Concern was written all over his face. “Why are you bringing your purse? I won’t go through it, Brigitte. Your money is safe with me.”

Oh, the sweet potato had no idea.

“I know that! I just need something from it,” she hoped he’d understand the hint but it didn’t look that way.

She couldn’t blame him. It was something that was probably never discussed in his household. His sister was too young and it wasn’t a topic his mother would casually discuss around her teenage son. Furthermore, Emmanuel didn’t have much experience with female companions.

“Your lipstick looks beautiful. You don’t need to reapply, we’re just writing here.” He complimented her. “Leave your purse with me.”

“Emmanuel - stop!” She snapped, instantly regretting it when she saw his horrified reaction. She gently touched his arm, “I’m sorry for losing my temper. I’ll tell you everything when I get back.”

He sat like a lost, confused puppy until she returned. She had never snapped at him before and he couldn’t understand why.

The sight of Emmanuel sitting there, alone and terrified, broke her heart. Lovingly, she reached for his hands.

“Are you okay?” he asked, finally relaxing when she rubbed her fingers against his soft skin.

“I trust you so I should be open with you,” she smiled, “and it’s nothing I should be embarrassed about. It’s very natural.”

“What is it?” Still, these hints weren’t good enough for him.

“I’m on my period and I needed to … you know…change.” She looked him directly in the eyes, waiting for him to come to the realization as to why she barked at him and took her purse to the restroom.

All her subtle hints had finally made sense. “Oohh!” The discovery hit him like a ton of bricks. “I’m so sorry, I should have known.”

“How could you have known?” She laughed.

“Last month, around this time, you were very sad. I assumed there were problems at home, so I didn’t badger you. But then I saw you eat an entire chocolate bar in 3 bites.”

Brigitte giggled with embarrassment. “I should have offered you a piece.”

“I know better than to take food from an animal,” he joked, knowing she’d burst into laughter with his comment, desperately needing to hear her beautiful laugh. The precious laugh that always calmed him down.

“Thank you for understanding,” she smiled.

“Thank you for telling me. We shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.” Emmanuel kissed her cheek, “Let’s get back to the play.”

The next time they met up to write, he handed her a beautifully wrapped gift.

“What’s this? You don’t have money to buy me things.” She chuckled, curious to see what he had brought her.

With enthusiasm, she opened the box and pulled out 4 chocolate bars and a box of tampons.”

“How did you get these? Didn’t the store clerk question your purchase?” Brigitte was stunned. In all her years of marriage, her husband never did something like this before. He was too embarrassed to buy feminine products for his wife and daughters.

“I told the cashier it was for my girlfriend,” Emmanuel announced proudly. “I’m hoping that’s what you will be one day soon. And then, eventually, my wife.”

Brigitte remained silent, impressed but also shocked by this young man who continued to surprise her every day.

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

Hahaha Emmanuel trying to reassure Brigitte his purse was safe with him, think that was the problem, made me laugh, the poor innocent thing!

Awww!! Chocolates and a box of tampons hahahaha when you think he couldn’t get any more adorable!!

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[fafn]

Witchcraft isn't for boys

As I walked into the house, I couldn't help but feel a sense of resentment towards my new stepmother, Sandra. I’m Luke and have recently turned 18. As I don’t have any income as student, I still live together with my dad. My father, Joe, had recently remarried, and now we were moving in with her. There was just something about her that rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was her overly cheerful demeanor or her constant need to be in control. Whatever it was, I couldn't stand her. Months went by, and Joe was away on another one of his business trips. It was during this time that I stumbled upon Sandra's dark secret – she was a witch. And not just any witch, but a powerful one. Sandra was faced with a dilemma. Should she kill me to protect her secret or train me to become a witch like her? Ultimately, she chose to train me, even though it was highly unconventional for witches to train boys. As my training progressed, so did my magical abilities. With each spell I mastered, my athleticism seemed to grow as well. I was transforming into an athletic jock.

One day, overwhelmed with heartbreak, I approached Sandra and asked if there was a spell that could make me more irresistible to the opposite sex. She gave me a choice - I could have the spell but at the cost of my name. After much contemplation, I decided that sacrificing my name was worth becoming utterly irresistible. The ritual was performed, and Sandra bestowed upon me the name Logan. The spell worked like a charm, and all the girls started chasing after me. However, the spell had some unintended side effects. My wardrobe underwent a drastic change; I found myself wearing tight pants, open shirts with rolled-up sleeves, and loafers. I looked like a character straight out of a trashy romance novel.

On top of that, since it was a parent's privilege to name their child, I now saw Sandra as my motherly mentor. I had transformed into Sandra's ideal son, a far cry from the teenager who detested her presence.

One day, out of the blue, Grandmaster Dorian paid us a visit, only to discover me by Sandra's side. Needless to say, he was livid that Sandra had taken it upon herself to train a boy without his permission. Sandra apologized and defended her decision, highlighting my great talent. A few days later, while Sandra was away, Dorian came by again, this time with a peace offering for me. He brought clothing more fitting for a wizard - tight black velvet pants, a form-fitting black silk shirt, and black slippers. Dorian suggested that I try on the clothes. Intrigued and flattered, I obliged, even if I thought they looked somewhat silly. Once I had the clothes on, I realized they were enchanted. My body hair vanished, and my family jewels shrunk. The silk shirt opened by itself, revealing my hairless chest.

To my astonishment, Dorian explained that it was my punishment for being trained without his consent. My shrunken balls would make me obedient to him, and the loss of body hair and exposed chest would serve as a reminder that I was merely a boy who needed to be guided by a strong man.

Dorian took me to his place, and with a snap of his fingers, I found myself on his couch. His magic compelled me to spread my legs as he positioned himself in between them, stating that he was going to make me his apprentice. Much to my surprise, my body responded with arousal. Dorian, wearing a wicked grin, remarked that it seemed my "engagement" with him had already been decided. Under Dorian's tutelage, I began to learn the art of dark magic. With every lesson, I became smoother, more conceited, and a bit of a bad boy. Dorian's plan came to fruition, for I transformed into a smooth-talking, snobbish bad boy. I now donned tight black pants, boots, and hip-length bomber jackets that accentuated my athletic physique. My hair was slicked back, and I had become a damn good-looking young, arrogant, and ruthless warlock.

Sandra was no longer viewed as a maternal mentor in my eyes. Dorian asked Sandra how she felt about what he had done to me. He insinuated that he had been too lenient with her in the past. Furthermore, he hinted her that he would soon make me her superior, eagerly awaiting the day I would rule her with an iron fist and cruelty.

[rinwellisathing]

Paint The Lines, Cut The Flesh: Part 20

Sentry sat alone in his tent, knees to his chest, head lowered. He didn't even look up as the tent flap lifted and two people entered, slowly sitting across from him. Kroger's piercing green eyes studied him carefully while Jaheira regarded him warily, the lines on her face prominent as focused frown crossed her features. “What? What did I do now?” Sentry groaned miserably. “I've already put Halsin in danger....” “His rescue relies very much on learning why you, specifically, feel responsible for that, Mr. Ojeda.” Kroger replied evenly. “The tiefling woman who brought the injured drow here shared a bit of information with me while I treated her companion, I want to give you the opportunity to tell me in your own words, to come clean.” Jaheira continued to regard Sentry wordlessly, as though waiting to see what he might say. Her gaze looked so accusing, though not hateful. It was a strange look, almost pitying. “Well, I know there's something wrong with me...and I'm starting to think it isn't actually a curse...” He frowned a moment and shook his head. “Actually, I think I've realized it wasn't a curse for a while now...I think I'm something rotten, something evil....” He continued, scratching his upper arm nervously. “Orin's my sister, apparently...or something like that, I have these terrible murderous urges...and I find beauty in destruction...Not to mention that weird imp that follows me...” “Our guest called you a Bhaalspawn, more to the point, Bhaal's chosen son.” Jaheira replied. “I have fought Bhaalspawn but I have also journeyed by their side and seen them fight against their nature...My question to you, Sentry, is do you have the courage to do that?” “Of course I do!” Sentry replied. “Look, I may not be a perfect paladin and honestly I don't want to stop finding beauty in death, but I don't WANT to hurt people who don't deserve it...and I never wanted Halsin or Astarion to get hurt.”

Jaheira gave a small chuckle. “Ha! The bit about beauty in death just sounds like a typical teenager to me. That, I can simply chalk up to a stunted childhood. But I do believe you care for your friends and that you want your mind to be your own.” Her expression softened. “Look, boy, as I said before, your mother was a friend of mine, she would not have helped you become what you are today if she didn't see something good in you, I trusted Evagria Ojeda and so I will trust you. But with that said, should you decide to follow your father after all, I will not hesitate to end you.” “Fair enough...” Sentry nodded, then he looked to Kroger apologetically. “I should probably tell the others, shouldn't I?” “That's up to you, but knowing exactly what we're up against will give us a decided advantage.” The githyanki replied. “And Sentry...my sisters and I understand what it's like to be judged for what you are and where you come from, we won't turn our backs on you as long as you don't turn yours on us. If we can count on you to help us save Orpheus, you can count on us to help you rescue Halsin.”

---- Sentry knelt near his tent, gently stroking Scratch's soft ears and nuzzling into his soft white fur. “Hey buddy, I know there's someplace here you don't want to go back to....believe me, I'd never make you, but I need you to come into the city with me, I need your help. Without Halsin, only you've got a sharp enough sense of smell to track anything down and we need to find him.” Scratch wagged his tail and pranced a bit in place. “Of course, friend. Halsin's a nice man, he always shares plenty of food with me and makes sure Nibbles and I have space to run. He's even been kind to Us, strange creature though it is. He's part of the pack!” Sentry smiled gratefully. “That he is, Scratch my boy.” He scratched vigorously at the dog's sides. “We're tracking Halsin's sent, but also this....” He offered the list Astarion had given him. “I know it probably smells like me and Astarion now, but underneath there should be another smell...”

“A dwarf.” Scratch immediately piped up, burying his nose in the parchment and sniffing vigorously. “The smell of death is all over him, but not like you, there's a badness to him...” “Yes, exactly.” Sentry nodded. “Let me gather a group together and we'll go. Also, I promise there's a juicy steak in it for you for your help.”

“I'd do it for nothing to help Halsin, but that does sound pleasant! Nibbles will leap for joy.” Scratch wagged his tail. Within a moment, Jaheira, Astarion, and Kroger had joined Sentry and Scratch and were prepared to head out on the hunt. They faced the other party, which consisted of Jaina, Karlach, Wyll, Gale, and Shadowheart to discuss their plans and where and when they would reconvene. Lae'zel and Octavia had opted to remain at camp to keep an eye on Minthara, who nobody quite trusted still, and to try and learn more from Gabraela. “We plan to find Sorcerous Sundries and ask after this book Gale thinks might help us, The Annals of Karsus.” Wyll explained. Despite the severity of their situation, Sentry couldn't help but crack a grin. “I'm sorry, the what?” Karlach stifled a giggle as well and Jaina briefly gave a begrudging little smirk before dutifully forcing it back to a serious expression. “Rest assured, it is of utmost importance to understanding the crown and how it may be effecting the Elder Brain.” Gale explained through gritted teeth. “We're all adults here and you all know exactly what the book is called now.” “Right, right, okay...and meanwhile, our group will look for evidence of this killer and track the Bhaal cult to find Halsin.” Sentry replied. “We ought to reconvene back at camp by nightfall.” Jaheira suggested. “Unless of course something comes up. We play it by ear then.” With their paths decided, the two parties split up, making their way into the city. Scratch led Sentry's group, eagerly sniffing at the ground as he went. Meanwhile, Jaina took the lead of the other party, having lived in the city most recently and knowing best the current landmarks. --- Wyll's party made their way through the city, he found himself smiling a bit as Karlach gasped with excitement, pointing out landmarks she remembered and remarking on new things she saw. Jaina happily discussed the sights with her, explaining some of the newer places and reminiscing about the places Karlach remembered. Wyll found himself especially happy to see the lower city park, where he remembered playing as a child. The party naturally found themselves stopping for a moment.

“Ah, a fine place to relax with a good book, unfortunately not as common outdoors in Waterdeep.” Gale smiled approvingly at the beautiful garden, peaceful fountains, and small pockets of people chatting or picnicing. “I remember playing here when I was little, there was nothing like finding a good stick for my sword and fighting imaginary monsters.” Wyll smiled wistfully. A small group of children, mostly elven and human rushed up to the party, eyes wide. “Miss Jaina! It's you!” “Miss Jaina? Where have you been!? We've missed you!” “Miss Jaina, who are your friends? They're so cool!” “Whoa! One at a time, friends.” Jaina smiled warmly. “It's good to see you again. I just took a little unexpected trip.” Shadowheart smiled and actually laughed a bit as she watched Jaina with the children. “They're adorable. These are former students, then?” “Hey! I recognize him! That's The Blade of Frontiers! My cousin saw him once, he has the same eye and the same scars! You're friends with a big hero?!” A young girl with messy straw colored hair and freckles gasped. Wyll was taken aback a moment at being recognized back home, but chuckled happily. “You've got me, my friend.” He took a knee to be eye level with the children. “But would you like to know a secret?” The kids leaned in eagerly. This was a real hero! An exciting experience for any child and especially so far from the frontier itself. They eagerly awaited with bated breath for what Wyll had to see. “Your teacher is a hero as well, she's been helping me on my adventures. That's where she's been. We're partners.” Wyll smiled widely as the children all gasped with excitement and looked at Jaina in awe. Soon, their little eyes caught Karlach, Shadowheart, and Gale. “Who are they, Mr. Blade?” “That lady with the big axe is so cool!” “ Is that man an archmage!?” “Are you a princess, miss?” The children leapt about like eager puppies, asking a thousand questions a second it seemed. “Oh! Mr. Blade! Would you play with us?” The children finally asked. “I suppose we have time, don't we?” Wyll asked with a kind smile. The rest of the party agreed and joined the children at their games, at least for a while, enjoying the moment of revisiting childhood, for a brief time able to be care free and forget about the troubles of their quest. ----

Scratch led the party up the stairs to an ornate door of a gilded and gaudy shop near the bridge to the upper city. He pawed at the door and barked loudly, pacing back and forth as he waited for the party to join him atop the steps. “Yeah, believe it or not, I recognize this place.” Sentry nodded. He could recall sitting in the corner in his comfortable black gambeson and breeches, a black hooded cloak and leather gloves as well as his favorite black and silver buckled boots watching Enver try on a jacket for a gala some patriars had insisted that he attend. He recalled the gregarious, well styled dwarf laden in fine jewelry, rings, and silks, telling him that his style could certainly use a bit of an update if he was going to be working with a lord. “This is Facemaker Boutique.” Kroger winced as he looked the building over. “The décor is a bit much, I'm not an expert on Istik fashion, but wouldn't the garishness take away from the clothing itself?” “Yeah...but that's just who this guy is as a person.” Sentry shrugged, pushing open the door with a pleasant little chime of a bell. “Huh...weird....I think he usually rushes to see if it's a customer worth fawning over...” Sentry frowned as he made his way into the shop, the rest of the party following. “Well, garish as his store is, the stitchwork on his pieces is quite good, actually.” Astarion mused, raising a brow as though surprised by how impressed he was with the quality of the garments on display. “Give me good linen any day. Frippery like this will tear the moment you draw back a bowstring.” Jaheira shrugged. Scratch gave a loud bark and began to growl, bolting into the shop's fitting area, snapping and snarling. Sentry hurried after him, the rest of the party moving double time behind him. There before them, a gnomish woman in Flaming Fist garb lay stunned on the floor and a young well dressed dwarf in blue sat paralyzed in a chair while a very plain looking dwarvish man in red circled him with sewing scissors.

“Oh now that's unforgiveable! Come now! I can excuse murder, but sewing scissors? On flesh?!” Astarion scoffed, his expression somewhere between mortified and furious. Sentry couldn't help but smile, there was an artist under the years of pain and want Astarion had been through, Sentry could appreciate that. “Yeah, idiot! You'll dull the blades beyond repair! Fuck, I'd kill you just for thinking of doing that!” “Fewer quips and more hits, please.” Jaheira chastised as a small group of dopplegangers burst into the room, engaging the party. Luckily, they hadn't expected an animal companion as Scratch evened the odds a bit, leaping on one and latching his sharp teeth around its throat, shaking more roughly than he'd done with any toy.

---- “You know, meeting your students made me think a bit, Jaina.” Shadowheart walked beside the tiefling as they continued through the city towards Sorcerous Sundries. “Maybe once I've rescued my parents, once I'm free of Shar entirely...Maybe I ought to teach.”

“It's very rewarding, but also it can be a lot.” Jaina admitted. “There's a lot more backstabbing and politics to it than you think. The students are great, but your colleagues and a lot of the parents? Not so much.” She explained. “Still, with what you've dealt with as a Sharran, you could probably handle it, actually, and truth be told it would be nice to have a friend on staff.” “I would watch your back. Replace all those backstabbing old women's wine with cheap vinegar, perhaps.” Shadowheart smiled and gave a laugh, tossing a friendly arm around Jaina's shoulders. “Or perhaps a hair loss tonic in their morning coffee and tea.” Jaina grinned. “I like it!” Shadowheart nodded her approval. “We'll be partners in crime.” The party stopped, finding themselves in the shadow of an impossibly tall building towering at the center of a pleasant public square. Their eyes all raised in unison to look up and behold the wonder that was Ramazith's Tower, home of Sorcerous Sundries. The entire place seemed to glimmer with the effervescent glow of magic and strange arcane powered automatons guarded the entrance, where a familiar face stood, yelling angrily at the impassive machines.

“Ugh...It's you hellspawn again.” The human spat, glaring at Jaina and Karlach. “Missing your violent friend, though, aren't you?” Jaina smirked, folding her arms across her chest. “Your healer is awful, Aradin. Sentry punched you, what? A couple weeks ago? I'd think you'd have gotten that healed by now.” “It's a different injury, you smart mouthed bitch.” The human sneered, not seeming to notice Wyll and Karlach's hands both going towards their weapons. “What are you doing here anyway? Is this just your thing? Being locked out of places? Being unwanted?” Shadowheart raised a brown. “I want compensation for what I went through on that gods damned Nightsong quest! I lost a lot of good men, damnit.” He snapped. “Huh...I thought to get paid for a quest you had to, y'know, do the quest.” Karlach snorted. “We all know you didn't find the Nightsong anyway seeing as we did.” “Karlach!” Gale hissed. “It would have ended in failure anyway, the Nightsong isn't some artifact, she's a person, and she's free now.” Wyll explained. “Maybe it's time you let this go and found another contract elsewhere.” “No...If this Nightsong's free, I'm gonna find her and bring her here like I planned....You watch.” The arrogant human shoved past the party and back into the streets. “Well, if it's any consolation, Aylin'll knock the stuffing out of him before he can do anything.” Karlach laughed. “She'd snap that guy like a badly made wand!” Jaina nodded. “True, I certainly wouldn't want to be her enemy.” She smiled as the party made their way into the store, where her smile quickly faltered as she hurried over to the counter.

“Looks like Rolan made it to his apprenticeship after all.” Karlach murmured. “Looking a bit worse for wear though, isn't he?” “Welcome to Sorcerous Sundries...Oh...it's you, Miss Thalassia.” Rolan frowned a bit, immediately turning his head. “Rolan, what happened?” Jaina frowned, peering closely at the bruises and lacerations. “And don't tell me you fell, do you know how many times I hear that story?” “It's nothing. Look, I need to keep up with my work, so if you'd like to purchase something, I'm here...Or if you've got information on The Nightsong, there's a portal upstairs to speak with my master...”

“Where are Cal and Lia? I know they wouldn't allow this to happen to you.” Jaina persisted. Rolan's expression fell and he glared. “I don't need anyone to protect me, I'm fine. Now are you going to buy something? If not, leave me to my duties.” Jaina pursed her lips and stormed away from the counter. “Fine, maybe I DO have some information about The Nightsong after all...” She muttered under her breath, practically flying towards the stairs as images of Dame Aylin pummeling the master of this tower filled her mind. Shadowheart and Karlach exchanged a glance as the rest of the party followed. ----- When the dust settled, the dopplegangers lay dead on the floor, Jaheira turning back from a massive, sleek panther and Scratch sitting calmly as his last enemy twitched one final time. Kroger saw to some superficial wounds on Astarion's body as Sentry towered over Dolor's prone form. “You really thought you had what it took to be an Unholy Assassin...” Sentry stomped on one of the dwarf's legs brutally, snapping the limb beneath his foot as he glared down, eyes filled with contempt and rage. “You thought you were real frightening, didn't you?” He crushed his hand under his boot next. The dwarf's eyes were wide with fear as he gazed up at Sentry, like staring down a monster in a horror story. “You...you're not even chosen anymore! Orin said!” He stammered. “Why do you even care!?” “Because Father Lorgan deserved better....” Sentry plunged the dagger he had reclaimed from the Open Hand murder site into Dolor's shoulder, leaning in close, his breath hot as the hells against the dwarf's face. “And your mother deserved better....She always did....You should have been a better son, Dolor.” And with that, Sentry stood up and brought his boot down on Dolor's head again and again, pulping his unremarkable features, caving his skull like a summer time sun melon. His boot came down again and again until finally Jaheira gripped his shoulder and looked up at him with a slightly unsettled expression. “I'm pretty sure you've killed him, boy...” She assured Sentry. “Now we ought to see to the victims we can still save.” She nodded towards the Flaming Fist and the clothing maker. Sentry lowered his head sheepishly and nodded his agreement, moving to untie Figaro from his restraints as Kroger moved over to the gnomish woman and gestured a restoration spell, blue-green light enveloping her and allowing her to move again as the Githyanki examined her carefully.

“Ah...thank you for rescuing me, sir...Truly a horrifying experience.” Facemaker shuddered, standing up and gingerly picking his way past the corpse of his would-be murderer. “Can you image? Choosing to wear all red like that? And such cheap leather!” Sentry chuckled. “Yeah, pretty tacky if you ask me...Uh...hey, um I know you've only just been rescued from a pretty terrible experience, but...ah...” Sentry's eyes turned towards Astarion, who was looting the corpse of a large doppleganger. His clothing, though once fine, had certainly seen better days and the tiefling knew how lovingly the elf cared for hit. Figaro followed sentry's gaze and nodded. “Ah! Say no more. I would be a poor style maker indeed if a little thing like attempted murder distracted me from my calling, step into my office....for your man, I'm thinking a stunning little blue and gold number I've recently made and for you.....” He placed a hand genially on Sentry's back, guiding him into the shop proper. ---- The items the party had found on Dolor led them to a dilapidated little shop nestled just beside the cemetery, a tombstone shop, most predictably. Sentry slowly approached the door and very carefully pressed against it. Finding it locked, he nodded to Astarion, who stepped up to swiftly deal with the obstacle. Walking inside, the party felt a heavy chill over them as they made their way through the rows of sample tombstones. Kroger reached into his pack and carefully extracted a pair of white cotton gloves, putting them on and slowly beginning to examine the stones. “The names on these are the same as the ones on the list...” He murmured, his fingers moving over the chiseled letters. “Perhaps after we've rescued Halsin, we may wish to explore some of these other victims, I assume we're still looking for parts of that clown? And perhaps more information on your past as well, Sentry.” Sentry nodded his agreement. “That makes sense...yes...” He came to the last room in the shop, approaching a door in the wall and fumbling with Dolor's various notes and letters for the pass phrase. “Sicarius...” And with the word uttered, the door slid open, leading into a dark, cold cellar. The area was so familiar to Sentry, as though he had been here a thousand times. Something twisted in his stomach, a sick sense of fear and anxiety. As he passed through the corridor and into the large chamber which housed a massive door, he was only vaguely aware that the rest of his party was with him.

As he approached the door, Kroger stopped him with a quick grip of the shoulder and handed him the dripping, bloodied bag they'd taken off of Dolor's corpse. “I would imagine you're going to need these in order to gain access.” He explained. “Well, I did take his hand as well, but it's kind of crushed, so...you're probably right.” Sentry nodded appreciatively as he approached the guards. “Hey! I've got your trophies here, so let's see this murder tribunal, huh?” He put on a brave face, mustering as much bravado as he could, not wanting to think about what was making him feel so anxious in a place he should have felt at home. “Present me well from gifts thine own or I will rend your flesh from bone.” The largest of the knights standing before the door intoned ominously. “Easily. D'you know how many people I killed today alone? I'm a pretty big deal.” Sentry forced a flippant smirk, producing a hand from the bag and holding it out to the guard as though offering a handshake. “Then enter...” The guard accepted the hand and stood aside, the doors creaking open and allowing Sentry and his party to enter. The Murder Tribunal's chamber was more frigid stone, stained with ancient blood. They were seated at the far end of the room on thrones of ordinary stone without cushion and watching the party enter. As Sentry gazed foreward, his eyes met a penetrating molten yellow gaze and he froze, eyes wide with fear as he stood there, bile rising in his throat as he was transported back to the breeding cell, back to Vereena. His head was pressed roughly into the pungent straw that lined the cage, the scent of so many fluids filling his nostrils, tears and snot staining his face. He could feel the blood running freely down his inner thighs and the pain that traveled all the way up to his belly with each agonizing thrust. He saw that same face leering down at him, cold and authoritative just as it was now. “Vereena....you return to your family at last...” The figure growled from his place atop the dais.

The others looked to Sentry in confusion. The tiefling bristled, his tail raised stiffly and arched. His eyes narrowed angrily. “Fuck you. My name is Sentry.” “You may call yourself what you like, Vereena, but it does not change what our father intended for you.” The figure sneered. “Sarevok Anchev....I can't say this is a pleasant surprise.” Jaheira spat the name like an unpleasant taste. “Hmm...The absent harper returns....Your keen sense for this city has withered in your absence..” Sarevok sneered at her. “I can only assume you've brought her here as a sacrifice, Vereena.” He looked to Sentry. The tiefling tensed, his shoulders stiff, his tail raised in anger, but twitching nervously. Jaheira and the others both knew Sentry was frightened, unsure if he could defeat Sarevok in combat. “Stop...calling me that....” Sentry muttered, his body shaking. “Well, you heard him, old man.” Astarion stepped up beside Sentry, arms folded across his chest. “Address him properly, will you?” Sarevok rose to his feet, leering down at Sentry. “You come in here, masquerading as a man, calling yourself by the name that woman gave you and bringing an enemy of our father to his tribunal's inner sanctum....I will tame you, Vereena, I will show you your place...and I will make sacrifices of your companions.” “I had been told Istik family reunions were a dreaded occasion, but this feels excessive.” Kroger winced, summoning a glowing glaive to his side as Jaheira drew her scimitars and Astarion drew his bow. “Sentry, dear, now would be a good time to snap out of it. Channel a bit of that anger, perhaps, darling?” Astarion's eyes darted to Sentry, who still seemed quite paralyzed. Sarevok leapt down from the dais, sword drawn as he took a swing at Sentry. Within a split second, the tiefling's halberd was in his hands, meeting the weapon and forcing Sarevok back with a mighty shove. “I have wanted to kill you since I was six years old, Sarevok.....Fuck you and fuck father for what you did to me.” Sentry spat. -----

Sentry panted heavily, his armor battered, blood and bruising covering any skin that remained exposed, and his body hunched with exhaustion, but he stomped slowly towards Sarevok, who was sprawled across the floor in front of the dais, trying to push himself back up to his feet. He smirked at Sentry, spitting blood on the ground in front of him. His helmet had fallen from his head. “You may think you're free, Vereena, but father cannot be defeated like this and he won't simply let his chosen go, not when your womb could spawn so many children stronger even than you....” He was cut off as Sentry grasped his throat, squeezing his windpipe. “Shut up....” He growled, dragging Sarevok up the dais to the solid stone seat he had sat upon when Sentry had entered. “Shut up.” He snarled again, slamming Sarevok's head into the edge of the throne. “Shut up!” Again. “Shut up!” Again. “Shut up!!!!” His growled became screams as he slammed Sarevok's head into the stone again and again until there was nothing recognizable of his sibling's face. Tears trickled openly down Sentry's cheeks as he stood over the corpse, glaring down at it. He was silent in that moment, his throat raw and aching from screaming, his hands caked in blood. He didn't know if he was going to break down sobbing or be sick to his stomach, it was all too much. “There now...He's gone, kid...He can harm you no longer.” Jaheira's voice broke through the static in Sentry's mind. “Nor anyone else for that matter. Now, let's try and find some clue as to where they've taken Halsin and get out of here as quickly as we can.” She gently guided him down from the dais and Sentry followed somewhat numbly, eyes wide as he stared forward. Kroger wrinkled his nose and put on a pair of sheep skin gloves that went up to his elbows, making his way over to Sarevok's corpse and rifling through his pouches. “It seems he had a key and some sort of amulet.” The Githyanki announced. “I'm assuming the key goes to one of the doors on either side of the room.” “Well, he was a high ranking cultist, we can assume there has to be SOMETHING of value in this cesspit.” Astarion sniffed, approaching the door to the right of the dais and claiming the key Kroger handed to him.

As the door swung open, a familiar, if unwelcome figure greeted them. A small hollyphant in a sharp hat hovering bound by a cruel chain above a pit of what appeared to be blood. Sentry groaned in frustration and slumped his shoulders. “Fuck, of course we accidentally rescued the useless inspector....Of course we did.” He muttered, but the strain of seeing Sarevok again and the crash after all the adrenaline that had coursed through him as he ended him kept Sentry from expressing further disappointment. “Astarion, can you let her go so I don't have to deal with it? I'm too tired to gloat about being right...” “Not to worry, darling, I can do it for you.” Astarion neatly slipped by and began to undo the chains. “So...I suppose this means that dear Sentry was right about those murders, hmm?” He gave a falsely pleasant little smirk. “Yes, yes....No need to rub it in....” She huffed. “At any rate, you came just in time...they were planning to sacrifice me to Bhaal....” A shudder coursed through her yellow-gold flesh. “Any way, this is far above my paygrade, this sort of thing is hero work...I trust you can handle it from here?” “Just like The City Watch to be utterly useless.” Jaheira shook her head as the little creature flew from the room. The party crossed the hall to the door on the opposite side of the room and Sentry pushed the door open, peering slowly inside. Seeing a small office at the back, he made his way towards the desk, examining the papers and books strewn across it. One in particular caught his eye and his fingers brushed over it before he shakily raised it to read.

“Oh Orin...” He whispered, biting his lip. His mind reeled with memories as the story on the paper revealed itself. She was Sarevok's child the whole time...the spawn of a twisted union with his own daughter. His stomach turned just thinking of it, and then the manipulation, he would have let Orin die if father hadn't preferred her over Helena. This whole time, his sister was a pawn on Sarevok's board, this entire time he had groomed her, twisted her to his will. Sentry supposed that accounted for her changed attitude towards him near the end. He was only dimly aware of the rest of the party searching the room, Astarion looking for gold or something valuable, Kroger for anything of use in healing, Jaheira likely for old remembrances. All the while, Sentry stood there, reading and re-reading with disbelief as memories of Orin troubled his already reeling mind. His little sister...

[barovianbitches]

Mother Bear - Constantin Vasiliev

Nikolai’s blade came crashing down against Constantin’s shield. The teenaged Vasiliev cowered under the broad chunk of wood, as his father unleashed a barrage of crushing pommel-blows against it, pushing the boy even further back. “On your feet!” Nikolai demanded, hardly affording the boy a chance to comply. Constantin rolled away from a downward strike, hopping to his feet and sprinting past his father, towards his hammer where it lay on the ground, discarded. 

“Too close, boy.” The priest snarled, his sword sweeping out to batter Constantin in the side of the head. It hardly touched the young Barovian’s forehead, yet onlookers could see a stripe of red ichor slowly start dripping down his face. From the wings, where Anastasia Vasiliev stood watching, a voice rumbled from the shadows. “That’s not a training sword.” From the darkness emerged a plate-armored giant, near seven feet in height and a warrior’s beard to match his intimidating stature. Dima, one of Nikolai’s trusted inner circle stepped up to Anastasia as he made this realization. “He’s going to kill him, going on like this.” Declared the man worriedly, looking to the boy’s mother.

"I see that." Anastasia's eyes were dark, like storm clouds over a blue ocean. She watched on, secretly hoping her eyes were deceiving her, that the red spatter across her son's forehead was a trick of the light coming through the stained glass windows. Deep down, she hoped that the monster her husband had become was not real. "A moment, Dima. Just a moment." She murmured, though she knew what was going to happen already. Her hand reached for her belt, eyes never leaving the form of the two before her.

Constantin, to his credit, was holding up remarkably well. Nikolai was a deeply talented swordsman, and he showed no signs of holding back. His son, who held advantage in height and weight class took blow after blow after blow relentlessly, soldiering on through the onslaught. He brought his shield up in a parry as he swung his hammer out towards his father’s knee, alas, his high grip on the handle caused it to fall short, and Nikolai brought the pommel of the sword around to slam into Constantin’s cheek with a sickening crunch. The boy’s stance wavered, and his weapons fell from his hand.

“Not good enough, mal’chik.” The priest spat, throwing his sword aside and raising a gloved fist to strike his son, a commonplace punishment for failure in Nikolai’s training halls. Constantin’s face darkened, and as the punch came flying in, it met a large palm, which caught the fist before it could land on the already bruising cheek. “You… insolent little-“ Nikolai growled before kicking out at Constantin’s straightened knee. The boot met bone, which shattered almost immediately from pure force, driving Constantin backwards onto the ground. Nikolai fell with him, slamming a fist into his nose. “Not-“ A crushing blow. “-good-“ Another one.  “Enough!” He shouted, accentuating each word with a punch. Constantin’s mouth filled with blood as it also streamed from his broken nose. Another armored hand clamped down on his throat, forcing the last of his breath out with a pained wheeze. 

“THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO WEAKLINGS, CONSTANTIN!” Nikolai roared, slamming his fist into his son’s face three more times, as his consciousness started to wane. “They die like dogs, unable to muster the will to fight back.” With his horrific declaration, Nikolai raised a gloved hand, likely to deliver what could possibly be a killing blow.

Anastasia bristled, her eyes widening as a snarl curled at her lip. She was done. She should have left when Nikolai had hit him the first time, her and Constantin leaving. Only then would she return in the night to cut him throat to groin, spilling his guts and tossing the remains to the dogs. But no. She foolishly hoped. Hoped beyond hope that this wasn't what had become of her husband, the father of her child. It was her fault that she let this grow to this extent, allowed Nikolai's anger to boil like a kettle on the stove, spilling over and tearing what was left of her family apart. There was no time for the ifs, should haves, and would haves, though. The veil had been lifted, the truth laid bloody before her. He didn't want a son. He wanted a soldier. An emotionless, indomitable spirit just inhuman enough to follow him to the field of death that was the gates of Castle Ravenloft. It was finally time to put her foot down.

In a split second, the glint of a blade caught the sun, and another moment later had it already left her hand. A dagger soared through the air in the blink of an eye, in the single beat of the heart. Dima had barely seen her even twitch, the only evidence of her throwing it being her outstretched hand. The blade found its mark, cleaning slicing through the back of Nikolai's hand, cutting cleanly between the bones of his palm and protruding out from the other side, the only thing having stopped it from going all the way through being it's cross-guard. The dagger bore a blade as black as night, it's shape wavy and almost giving the illusion of a spiral. 

"I have seen enough. Dima, please tend to Constantin's wounds. Nikolai, if you value your other, more valuable appendages, you will cease this madness." She stalked out from the shadows, her words almost more painful than her blade, her eyes burning with pure hatred and rage. Anastasia did all she could to manage an even tone, despite everything in her screaming to unleash her fury.

Nikolai shouted in pain as the blade pierced his hand, recoiling away. He shot to his feet, a furious glare focusing down on his wife as she spoke to him. Below him, fading into unconsciousness, Constantin gurgled a weak breath as the hand left his throat, a fountain of ichor spilling down his cheek. Nikolai glanced down at the mangled mess of his son, and roughly kicked him onto his side, the ocean of gore pouring from his mouth onto the smooth stone. Constantin went fully limp, blacking out from the pain. Nikolai looked down at his hand, and back up to Anastasia. He went to say something, but recoiled at her fury, turning to storm off towards their shared quarters.

She gritted her teeth, practically seething in anger. Anastasia followed after him, her hands balled into fists so tightly that her nails made red marks in her own skin. "Oh, Costicǎ. My son." She murmured, her eyes softening as they grazed over her boy. It cut her deeply to look at him, tears beginning to well in her eyes. Hate simmered in her heart, complete *disdain* washing over her as she looked back up to Nikolai's retreating form. 

Briefly, she stooped beside the unconscious teenager, brushing hair from his face and kissing his forehead. Anastasia straightened, looking back to Dima. "Take care of my Constantin, while I take care of him." The spat the last word, a predator's gaze fixed to the doorway where he exited. "When you are done, see to it that Constantin packs a bag. I am finished with this forsaken place." Her voice was barely above a mutter as she walked away, sparing one more glance back to her child.

Dima had never seen her angry, let alone murderous. He had always known Anastasia as a fierce woman, but with endless patience when it came to those she loved. He could tell that there was nothing left for the priest, only the cinders of the bond he burned when he first raised a hand to Constantin. The preacher would be lucky if he made it through the night with what he had done.

Dima nodded slowly, looking past Anastasia to Constantin with a pained expression. He walked over, placing a massive hand on her shoulder. “I will care for him.” Dima muttered, his voice taking on an uncharacteristically shaky tone, as if he were himself on the verge of tears at the sight. “His anger knows little bounds. Please, be careful, Docha.” Said the behemoth, gently squeezing the woman’s shoulder before kneeling to meet Constantin’s level. Placing a hand under his head and another around his chest, he pulled the boy into a firm yet gentle embrace. As he lifted Constantin into his arms to carry him away, he whispered something only he and the void could hear. 

“You’re safe now, little bear. I promise.”

In his quarters, Nikolai paced angrily, staring at the knife still piercing through his hand. He muttered furiously in Barovian, before grabbing a glass from the table and shattering it against the wall in rage.

It wasn't long before Anastasia threw open the wood with enough force that a small dent in the stone wall was left from the knob. "What were you thinking." She seethed, glaring harshly at Nikolai, rapidly approaching and tearing her own knife from his hand. "That. Is. Your. Son. You spilled YOUR OWN blood this evening!" Anastasia snarled, pointing the end of the blade directly at him. "You could have killed him, and then I would not have hesitated to kill you myself." She roared in anger as stared him dead in the eye, only an inch or two shorter than he was. "Just like you did not hesitate to raise your hands to him in such a way!" She sheathed the dagger into her belt violently, throwing her hands into the air.

“I must make him strong, Anastasia.” He growled. He grabbed a rag off the dresser, wrapping the torn piece of clothing around his wound. “He brings shame to the Vasiliev name. No man of the bloodline has failed so consistently, has been so boundlessly weak.” There was no love in his voice. Not for his ‘son’. 

“If he would die so horribly on the field of battle, it is best that he instead meet his end in the company of those who have his best interests at heart. Sancus requires warriors. The Vasilievs hold ancient oaths, and this is my ONE chance at a suitable heir to my duty.” He fixed Anastasia with a glare. “You coddle him like you’ve just given birth. He is old enough to know pain, and he should become familiar with it while he has the chance to learn to overcome it. Not that *you* would understand what’s at stake.”

"He does not bring shame on the name, Nikolai. You do. You think your ancestors would approve of you nearly killing your own flesh and blood? In the name of your god Sancus? If he brings you so much shame, I will no longer force him to bear the name Vasiliev. You forget that he is a Zenik, too, as am I. I am done with your games, your violence thinly veiled by "religion" and "duty". You are a disgrace to anything holy." She snapped back, pulling her wedding ring off of her finger. "You are not the man I married. That man is long gone." To punctuate the statement, she threw it right at his chest. 

"He will not die in battle. He will not be your heir." Anastasia snarled. "If I had known this is what I would throw my life into, I would have never sought sanctuary. I would have never even spared you a glance. You do not deserve him, or his faith in you as a father."

“He knows what must be done. He chose to bear the burden. I’m *sorry you feel this way*, my love.” He said, the term of endearment utterly hollow. “He may be a Zenik, as you say, but the righteous duty of the Vasilievs is eternal. Take him from this place, and you take his only chance of surviving and overcoming Strahd’s hatred. Those villagers would have crucified you if I did not give you sanctuary.”

He let that hang for a moment, his anger flaring and then petering out. “I would never have denied you sanctuary. The Morninglord would not have let his light be eclipsed… Sancus has old bonds. He will come for the boy, and if you’re foolish enough to take him, I hope you’re prepared to sign his death warrant!” He suddenly thundered, sweeping a hand to slap an ornate candelabra off the table, the brass slamming against the floor with a loud crack. 

“The man you married is still standing right in front of you. I have merely adapted to the demands of the church, and of the god who has my bloodline in a chokehold, Anastasia.”

Nikolai began to pace. “He will die in battle. Perhaps not at the gates of Ravenloft. But he will die standing. That is his fate. His burden. We created life with a target on his back. You take him from these walls and you offer him up to Strahd on a silver fucking platter.” the priest snarled, fixing Anastasia with an accusatory glare. “Would you do that to him?”

"Don't you dare turn this on me, you monster. A real father and husband would never even think of doing what you have done." She didn't even flinch at his anger, staring back with just as much fury. "You will not speak of his fate, it is not yet written. I almost feel sorry for how blinded you are by your anger and self-hatred for your own bloodline." Anastasia turned, going to the wardrobe and throwing it open, gathering Nikolai's things from it. 

"You speak nothing but hypocrisies. If I am to take my own son away from this hellhole, I am the one offering him to Strahd? And yet you wish to storm the gates of Ravenloft yourself. You serve nothing but yourself and those closest to you to Strahd, and not even he would feed on your tainted flesh. Surely, he would leave you to his dark servants, torn limb from limb while you beg and scream for mercy because you are all bark and no bite." The look she threw over her shoulder was poisonous, almost appearing like a visage of the dark lord herself. Every word dripped with venom, her syllables sharper than the swords carried by soldiers.

“I- we will drag his entrails across the battlements of his wretched fortress, and the sun will rise on Barovia.” Spat Nikolai. “Argynvostholt is safe. This church is consecrated ground. We leave for Ravenloft in days.” He continued, his tone laced with dull venom. 

“If you wish to continue this tantrum, promise me you will at least keep him here. It is safe here. When I return, and this land is free, you can do as you wish, but Constantin will make his own choice. You are his mother, not his master.” Nikolai grabbed his sword and belt from the bed, and reaffixed it around his waist. 

“If you do leave, when you’re cradling him as he dies, consider prayer. You may have forsaken the light of the Morninglord, but he would not forsake the loyal servant to whom you gave birth.”

The door slammed hard enough to crack the wood behind the priest as he departed.

She scoffed loudly, pulling the dagger from her belt again, lodging it in the now closed door. "YOU WILL SLEEP OUTSIDE, SINCE YOU WISH YOU ACT LIKE AN ANIMAL!" Anastasia called back, opening the window and throwing his things as hard as she could at the muddy ground below. "The Light of the Morninglord, BAH! His light has never shined once on any of us. He is a pacifier for weak men who wish to call themselves heroes while hiding behind their own cowardice." She huffed, continuously throwing things out the window to the earth several stories below. Deep down, she hoped he wasn't right, that he wouldn't return like the savior he so desperately wanted to be. That she would never have to look him in the eye ever again.

She would no longer bear the weight of this tyrant's name. Glancing down at the ring left on the floor, she picked it up, hucking it right out the window with the rest of that man's belongings. She would no longer be his wife, no longer a Vasiliev. She came into this world Anastazija Zenik, and she would die that way, if only to spite the monster her son called "father." 

Multiple cenobites of the church would report that Nikolai was denied entry into the infirmary shortly after the altercation with his wife. He was met at the door by Dima, who nearly struck him. The priest did not stay long, relenting under the threat of violence from the Great Bear. 

Inside the infirmary, Constantin was laying on a table, battered truly within an inch of his life. Dima sat by his side, gently tending to him. Combining traditional healing practices with holy magic, he worked to reassemble shattered bone and disfigured face, all the while humming comforting hymns. Whether for himself or for the unconscious boy, none would know.

Anastazija felt exhausted, her body drained of all energy as her rage had torn through her. She wrapped herself in a shawl, making her way through the keep. She floated through the halls like a vengeful spirit, all those crossing her path quickly making way. It didn't matter, though, all she wanted was to see her son.

She stood at the doorway to the infirmary, the hollows of her cheeks and the bags under her eyes appearing deeper, darker than before. "How is he?" The Zenik murmured, barely being able to look in the bed where he lay. "Still fighting, I hope?"

Dima turned to face her, standing and stepping away from the table. His great bulk sought to block the sight of her mauled son from her tired, sorrowful eyes. "He is... Stable. He was wounded badly, a few seconds more of his windpipe being crushed... I'm not sure where he'd be." The Great Bear murmured. Without his plate armor, in simple, homespun brown robes, he looked more a monk than a mighty warrior. The carved lines of age set deeply in his face melded with the lines of sorrow across his features. "I'm sorry, Docha. I should have done more, when he first turned to anger like this..." 

His hands fell limp at his sides. There was no making up for what the chief of his order had done to Anastazija's son. He brought a giant hand to his face, to wipe his brow and eyes. "I just need a few more moments, and he should be conscious... If you wish to remain, and speak with him." He gestured to a seat near the table, far enough off to be spared the worst of the sights, but close to her son.

"And I should have left when he first struck him. He changed. You should have heard what he said to me, Dima. He did not hesitate. He did not stutter. He meant every word." She murmured, blowing past him like a cold winter breeze. There was a hollow look to her eye, and deeper, the cinders of her hatred still burned. She took her seat, pulling the shawl around her tighter. "I took off my wedding ring. I threw his things out the window. As soon as Constantin is healed... We are leaving." She looked up to him, her gaze mournful. "You should too."

"You're.. Leaving?" Dima murmured in confusion, and shock. "Docha, where will you go? Barovia is a dangerous place, and Constantin is...." He looked sadly to the boy, before glancing back at the woman he repeatedly called 'Daughter'. "Forgive me, for I mean no ill intent... He is weak." He rested a hand on Constantin's bruised shoulder. "He is not ready to face the evils that befall this land, and I refuse to entertain the idea of you facing them alone. Allow me to come with you, to safeguard you both. He needs training.. A gentle hand, not the fist Nikolai taught with."

"I appreciate your offer. All you have done for my family." Her eyes faced the ground. "But I wish to cut all ties with this place." She murmured. It was clear that she meant no ill will to him, quite the opposite. "And... I would not want to sever you from your faith. It would be wrong of me to ask you to do such a thing. You know me as a Vasiliev, a kind woman taken in by the church, the mother of this beautiful boy. But you do not know Zenik, who I was for the six years I braved Barovia alone, and even the time before then." She paused, sighing deeply. "You do not know what sort of evil I have looked in the eye, Dima." Anastazija glanced up to him, a knowing look in her eye. She was trying to communicate something to him, something she didn't even want to say out loud. "Constantin and I... We will be fine. He is so close to eighteen... Then, once he has become a man, I may finally show him all that he has missed while I raised him here."

Dima's gaze rested on Anastazija for several moments, silence ruling the room. The age on his face truly started to show as he processed this declaration of hers. He opened his mouth, as if to offer a rebuttal, but closed it again, shaking his head and resting it in his hands. The giant sat next to Constantin, making the tall, muscular Vasiliev look like a lanky child in comparison. He returned to his work, laying hands gently on his face and tending to the multitude of fractures and wounds he'd sustained.

"If that is your wish... I would not do as Nikolai did and stand in your way, or fight you. In his mother's hands, the boy is safest." He murmured. "I will... I will go to Ravenloft with the army. See to it that as many walk away alive as I can. If you find yourself in grave danger.. Seek me out. You will always have shelter in my home." 

Constantin suddenly shook with a heaving, agonized breath, groaning in pain as consciousness flooded him. "Shhhh, shhhh, Mal'chik. Breathe slowly, do not tense." Dima ordered firmly yet gently. "I am almost done tending to your wounds, little bear." He said, working with more haste than he already was now that Constantin was awake, and writhing in utter hellish agony.

As he woke, she murmured one last thing to the man, the one who had watched over her son for his sixteen odd years of life. "Thank you, Dima. Remember... Nikolai does not write anyone's fates, including you. To follow him closely would be suicide..." She stood, signaling the conversation between them was over. "Costicǎ, how do you feel, my boy? Can you hear me?" Anastazija went to his side, her hand petting his head as delicately as she could. Her heart ached as she looked down at her son, observing the horrendous state he was in. Furrowing her brows, she made a silent promise. Fates willing, Nikolai would never see Constantin again.

Constantin opened his eyes, recoiling from the light in the room. His gaze trailed up to his mother, and he nodded weakly, to affirm that he could hear her.

She breathed a sigh of relief, taking the shawl from her shoulders and gently laying it over him. "There you are... You must rest. I am so sorry that I did not stop him." Anastazija leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. "We will take care of you, hmm? Soon you will feel good as new..."

Constantin heaved a choked breath, more a sob than anything else, though he seemingly did not cry. “What did I do wrong?” He muttered. “I did exactly as father asked…. I thought I did it right…” he trailed off, as Dima continued to do his work. He looked to Anastazija, shaking his head sadly. His father had nearly killed him and all the boy could think of was disappointing him.

His mother's jaw worked, choking back angered words  and vile curses upon the man. She looked to Dima, rage etched into her expression. It turned on a dime though as she kneeled beside Constantin's bed. "No, my treasure, you did nothing wrong, nothing at all. You have worked so hard... But, his standards are built upon an unstable foundation, doomed to crumble. It is not your fault..."

“You did good, my boy. Good enough. Any more was too much to ask.” Dima intoned gently. 

“Thank you, uncle.” Constantin said weakly, wheezing a heavy exhale. “Will I be able to go with father to the Cas-“ 

“No.” Dima cut Constantin off firmly. “You are on bed rest until your mother releases you. Am I understood, little bear?” The man demanded, in a firm tone, but one with more fatherly grace than Nikolai had ever used. 

“Y-yes, uncle.” Constantin said, smiling weakly. He reached out for his mother’s hand, grasping it with all his strength… That of maybe a toddler. The pain radiated through his eyes, strong enough almost to be felt by an onlooker. 

“I’m sorry to have made you worry, mama, uncle.”

"Do not apologize to me, my son." She took his hand in hers, holding his cold palm to her warm cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

The boy sniffled, before coughing again. His consciousness waned once more, and Dima’s lack of alarm seemed to indicate this was expected. The giant rose to face a nearby window, putting his face in his hands for a moment, to cover the anguish etched on his features. 

“Anastazija, I beg you… Please, reconsider. I know it to be deeply selfish..” he trailed off, before turning to look at the small woman. “I cannot bear the thought of the two of you in danger. I trust you, but… My home is here no longer. My faith is shaken, all I know is my care for you and the boy.” His face broke into a sorrowful frown, hidden mostly by his bushy gray beard, yet unmistakable tears formed in the corners of his eyes. The Great Bear had a reputation for fierceness and stoicism, but in this private moment, such facades burned away.

She watched him go, sighing deeply as she hung her head. Anastazija ran her hands over her face, begging to be rid of this form that was forced to carry so much anguish. "I cannot let you... It is my wish to show him life beyond these walls. I believe they have hindered his spirit's growth... I alone may be his guide. Blood runs from the mother, and it is my burden to bear." She looked up to him, her expression soft. 

"Thank you... For all you have done. You were more of a father than Nikolai ever was... You were my family when I had none left, walking me down the aisle on the day he and I wed. For that, for everything... No words could ever be enough to express my gratitude. Perhaps one day, the threads of our lives may cross again." All she could offer was a sad, tired smile to him. "But promise me one thing, won't you? I only ask for one last thing..."

“Anything.”

"Do not lose yourself to this man and his selfish desires. I do not believe he cares what will happen to you all when you arrive at the gates. Strahd is not a man who shows mercy to just anyone..." She held herself, an unseen cold seeming to grip her. "If you see that you are marching to your own deaths, tell me you will leave that place at once."

“If I am to die, Docha, it will be at great cost to the forces of evil. We will see what the fates have in store for these old bones.”

A heavy tear rolled down his wrinkled cheek. The normally reserved man held his arms out meekly. “Would you humor an old man his sentimentality, for one last farewell?”

She heaved a sigh, too fatigued to cry. Anastazija nodded, rising to her feet to meet him in the middle. "Of course, Dima. Anything..." She murmured in response, hugging him tightly and burying her face into his chest.

Dima wrapped her tightly in his arms, holding on as if it were his last chance. After a moment, the feeling of a small silver chain came to rest around the woman’s neck, as the man snuck a gift before pulling back. Hanging around Anastazija’s neck was a necklace with two charms. A hand-carved visage of a wolfhound, and a bear. The bear was unmistakable in form, a barbarian’s totem. 

He wiped his eyes, looking at the woman. 

“The bear.. Give it to Constantin, when he is ready. If the way of the Morninglord is not for him, let him find strength in the bear. As for you, the wolfhound will guard you. Go tonight. I will distract Nikolai, he will not know of your departure.”

He planted a fatherly kiss on the woman’s forehead, before turning for the door. “Be swift, and be safe, mother bear.”

With that, the Great Bear left the two in the safety of the infirmary, with the clock ticking.

[casspurrjoybell-17]

HEART'S FATE - CHAPTER 16

*Warning: Adult Content* 

They say you should never turn your back on the sea. 

One moment, everything may seem peaceful and calm and then the next thing you know, a wave might knock you off your feet and drag you down.

 Skylar West is like that. 

One second, Martin Hunter is trying to explain why he’s upset with him and the next, Skylar is kissing him. 

A dozen jumbled thoughts ricochet around Martin’s skull like rocket-propelled grenades as Skylar’s arms encircle him and their lips touch.

What the fuck is going on? 

Skylar tastes like strawberries and mint. 

Damn but he's good at this. 

Martin doesn't remember the last time he was kissed.’

Among these and several others, is a thought that comes from much deeper within and which manifests as more of a visceral need than as words.

He wants it.

It's Martin’s Wolf's voice and it frightens him. 

He didn't even realize when he started to kiss him back with shameful desperation, as if he’s so starved for affection he’ll take scraps from any hand.

Pathetic.

More memory than mere thought, Elena's voice drips disdain, sinks claws into Martin’s heart and crushes it. 

Both shocked by the sudden pain and intensely ashamed of himself, Martin shoves Skylar away with a violence that startles him. 

Skylar looks as surprised as Martin feels.

"Martin..."

"What are you playing at?" Martin snarls, using anger to mask embarrassment and self-disgust. 

Skylar regards Martin with curious concern. 

"I'm not playing at all. You're a very attractive man and I wanted to kiss you."

Martin’s lips twist in a sneer as he rejects even the slightest possibility Skylar could be telling the truth. 

"Don't you have to take sexual harassment training to be a teacher? You can't just kiss people because you want to."

Skylar frowns. 

"Forgive me. I should have asked and it seems I was wrong, after all."

As Skylar turns and walks to the door, something distressingly like a whine escapes Martin’s throat as his Wolf rebels.

"Wait."

Skylar pauses and looks at Martin over his shoulder, his hair like a golden waterfall down his back.

"Just... let me explain."

Skylar hesitates, then returns to stand before Martin, his expression neutral but interested. 

Martin struggles to dredge up words and force them from his lips, though he’s unable to meet his eyes.

"You're... also very attractive," Martin says. 

"But... I can't trust you."

Skylar lifts his brows. 

"Oh?"

Martin grimaces and shakes his head. 

"What I mean is... I can't trust anyone. I can't trust love. Falling in love was the worst mistake of my life. It disguised itself as happiness but all it brought me was misery and pain."

"What about your children?"

A surprisingly bitter laugh escapes Martin. 

"My second worst mistake. Not only did love ruin my life, it made a coward of me. You don't know what it's like to wake up every day and regret that you're..."

With dawning horror, he cut himself off. Martin knowns as he spoke that he was saying it all wrong. 

He didn't regret his children, he regretted letting his love for them and his fear of losing them, lead him to make poor and cowardly decisions, like staying with their mother despite her abuse or helping her attempt to overthrow his parents' Pack. 

Skylar's expression tells Martin, that he’s failing badly at conveying this but it's his son, Miguel's face, appearing behind him in the doorway, that shuts him up. 

He'd obviously overheard everything, probably hanging back out of a polite inclination not to interrupt and the shock and hurt in his eyes strikes Martin like a blow as he turns and dashes out the front door, slamming it shut after him.

"Shit."

Pushing past Skylar, Martin struggles for a moment with the door ‘which had gotten stuck’ before throwing it open and bolting through. 

Miguel's already halfway across the meadow, headed for the woods and Martin takes off in pursuit, ignoring the surprised stares of his family as he curses himself.

"Miguel. Miguel, wait."

Predictably, the teenage boy ignores his father and if anything, puts on a burst of speed. 

Martin is wheezing by the time he reaches the far end of the meadow where Miguel had disappeared into the trees and has to stop to catch his breath. 

In the meantime, Skylar catches up to him.

"He overheard, I take it?"

Martin nods, unable to speak.

"Any idea where he'd go?"

Martin shakes his head.

Miguel would have gone home to his room, if he could run that far but that's all he can say.

A fresh pain lances Martin as he realizes that he hasn't been paying enough attention to his oldest son.

 Nico and Rio still require a lot of supervision and Flora is independent and trustworthy and tells her father what she needs. 

But Miguel is... quiet. Introverted. 

He doesn't express himself as easily as the others do and is more likely to turn to his art than to ask for anything. 

He seems to like spending time in his room, so Martin leaves him there. 

He knows where he is and that he's safe but now... Martin startles as Skylar rests a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright? You look a bit... grey."

"I need to find him," Martin gasps, leaning against a tree for support. 

"I have to explain. The kids are... the only thing Elena ever gave me that I'm grateful for."

"Then why do you hate being alive?"

Martin’s head snaps up at the sound of Miguel's voice and he sees his son emerge from behind a fallen log, where he'd concealed himself...

They'll have to have a long conversation about eavesdropping, later.

His arms crossed and anger clouding his youthful, tear-streaked face.

"Miguel. Why would you think that, mijo?"

"It's what Uncle Dane said to Mr. Ambrose. He said that your Wolf is dying and that you're just gonna let it die because you think we'd all be happier without you."

"That isn't true. And you didn't understand what I said before." 

Martin casts a glance a Skylar, hoping he'll just gloss over the mention of Wolves or maybe assume he 'adopted' one in a sanctuary or something. 

"I love you. I love you so, so much, Miguel. And Flora and Nico and Rio. You're the only thing that..."

Martin winces as the pain seizes him again and he presses a hand to his chest as it tightens like a vice around his lungs.

"Then prove it," Miguel challenges. 

"If you really love us, then Shift. Show us that your Wolf is just fine, like you say."

Martin shakes his head at Miguel, half in warning and half in despair.

"Liar," Miguel’s face twists and tears slip down his cheeks. 

"Well, guess what, Dad? I'm not Shifting, either. Not ever. I hate being a Wolf. All this stupid Pack shit... traditions and laws and whatever... all it does is hurt people. Like you."

He turns and dashes off again, deeper into the trees. 

Martin takes a step to follow him but ends up in Skylar's arms as his legs give out and he catches him.

"Miguel." Martin struggles to regain his feet but Skylar doesn't let go.

"Hush. Let him be. He is the sort who needs to cry his feelings out in solitude and he'll be back when he feels better. Am I wrong?"

Martin realizes Skylar is not wrong and shakes his head in surrender. 

Skylar eases them both to the ground, leaning his back against a tree with his legs outstretched, forcing Martin to lean his back against his chest. 

For a minute or so, they just sit there. 

Martin feels the heat of Skylar’s body warming his, which seems cold by comparison, despite his exertions. 

The peace of the autumn forest on a warm afternoon surrounds them like a golden dream and Martin begins to relax despite himself as the pain fades to a memory.

"So, you're werewolves, then," Skylar says, offhandedly. 

"That's interesting. I might have guessed, with what a 'pack' of you there are."

Tensing again, Martin twists to look at him.

"You know about Wolves?"

Skylar shrugs and smiles. 

"In passing. Is it true what Miguel said? About your Wolf?"

Martin faces forward again and leans his head back to rest on Skylar’s shoulder as the weight on his heart returns, settling like a stone sinking in water.

"Maybe."

"Wouldn't you know?"

Martin shakes his head slightly. 

"If I could have Shifted as he asked, I would have. But I haven't been able to Shift since..."

Skylar draws a deep breath and adjusts his position to get more comfortable.

"You know, I was going to tell you all of my secrets," Skylar confesses, 

"But I kissed you instead."

Something almost like a laugh rattles Martin.

"How about this," Martin says, 

"I'll tell you all my secrets and then you can tell me all yours and then you can kiss me again, if you still want to. But I don't think that you will want to."

Skylar’s hold on Martin tightens just a little.

“Challenge accepted," he says. 

[juminsmysticmc]

RFA + Minor Trio with a Mc who asks them to talk to their son about masturbation/ Sex Education

Mention of Teenager masturbating

I actually forgot how I came up with this scenario but I can imagine it would be kinda…funny? Enjoy!

Jumin

No matter what it was, you never called Jumin while he was at work.

You always tried to solve the problem on your own, no matter if it was that you fell in the shower or the fact that you had contractions.

That’s why - when you personally called him - he got kind of nervous.

To hear your panicked voice shocked him even more.

,,Jumin Han…our son…began to masturbate,’’ you said.

He was at first a bit…puzzled that this was something you simply told him over the phone, but he also thought that it was amusing that his son was already that old…

,,I found a…oh my God, I am going to throw up - a dried sock under his pillow,’’ you whined.

,,Jumin, please tell him…I don’t know what, just talk to him and make sure to make him wash that sock after…it did whatever it had to go through!’’ you hissed.

This wasn’t as funny as it was before anymore, but Jumin was sure that he would get over it somehow.

That’s why, the next day - Jaehee wasn’t that happy about it - Jumin took the day off and brought some books into his son’s room to explain some things and make sure to let him hide the evidence…

Zen

When you first told Zen that you were going to have a son, he was happy.

The first one was going to be a son - big brothers would always make sure to protect little sisters from other boys, right?

He was sure to make his son into a gentleman so that in case he had to take care of you and perhaps other siblings, Zen could die at ease - not that this was something he wished for.

However, Zen didn’t realize how hard it could be to have a son, especially after the other children were all girls.

One day, Zen heard you gasp and gag, making him jump up and go towards you, just to find you in your son’s room.

Your hand was covering your mouth as the blanket, which before was almost on the floor, was now on the bed.

A few magazines with naked women laid around there as well as some used tissues.

You looked over to Zen, who blushed a deep red.

,,This!’’ you hissed ,,will be your job! Make sure that he learns how to handle his body and how to keep this clean!’’ you said, before you went out to wash your hands.

Now Zen was sitting across from his son, explaining to him that he should hide his magazines in a drawer and throw out the tissues.

,,Dad…I also have a few questions about this topic…’’ his son confessed.

This was the proof that men were indeed wolves, but also that his son had a few things he had to handle and needed to know…

Yoosung

For a few days, you kept trying to get your husband Yoosung to talk to your son about different things regarding his body and penis especially.

,,I just think that you, as a man, would do a better job than me - who knows nothing!’’ you argued with Yoosung in bed.

His face was a bit flushed as you talked about a topic he didn’t really enjoy talking about.

,,He will learn it one by one,’’ Yoosung mumbled, trying to get you to think of different ideas.

At first, you decided to let the topic go, but one day you came rather shocked into Yoosung’s study.

On his desk were a few documents about upcoming operations on several animals while his glasses were laying around somewhere.

,,Oh, Mc what are we having for lunch, I am - what’s wrong?’’ Yoosung said as he immediately stopped talking when he saw your expression.

,,Today is the day you need to talk to your son! Now!’’ you hissed.

When Yoosung entered his son’s room, he could only imagine what happened.

,,You really did it now, at this time of the day, with your parents at home, and without locking the door?’’ Yoosung mumbled.

One by one, Yoosung began to explain the most important things to know.

He was embarrassed and his face was red, but it seemed that his son could learn a lot from him and wasn’t really sure about a lot of things.

,,Make sure to always stay clean. You need to wash your hands, yes? And don’t use socks… if you need something to get… into it, don’t go on illegal sites, just try to google safe or so…’’ he said.

,,And don’t let your mum see this sight ever again,’’ he warned before he quickly hurried out of the room to get some fresh air.

He felt better now that his son had more knowledge, but he still couldn’t look into his eyes, even the day afterward…

Saeyoung

The red haired man already knew -  without wanting to know in the first place - that his son was kind of sexually active.

He found various pornos on his computer as his son’s skill of hiding evidence was still trying to improve day by day.

But for him this didn’t matter at all - he was a boy in his teens after all.

Trying various things and self pleasure were the kinds of things that helped him grow.

At least this was his opinion.

He didn’t know that you - his wife - had a totally different opinion on this topic.

,,I..oh my God, you need to talk to your son right now,’’ you said, hurrying into the shared work room of Saeyoung and Saeran.

Saeran didn’t mean to look up, but when he heard your voice, he just had to see what you were crying about.

,,Why? Did he prank the school again?’’ Saeyoung asked, way too relaxed.

,,No, worse. Your son was…I don’t even want to say it - jerking off. In my bathroom.

We have two little girls here. This is a no go.

Explain it to him! Right now!’’ you hissed.

,,I mean, it’s not like they-’’ Saeyoung stopped.

Seeing your angry and serious face made him rethink his words.

,,I don’t know if you’re having fun kidding me or not, but I want you to clear it up with him that if he needs to…do whatever, he needs to do this in his own room.

I don’t want to find any hard socks or tissues.

Make it clear about hygiene, do you understand my words, Saeyoung Choi?’’ you asked.

He understood.

He had chills going down his spine, of course he understood.

And so, he did what you wanted.

His son was rather embarrassed about the fact that his mother noticed and couldn’t look up anymore.

Saeyoung also tried to teach him how not to get a virus on his computer and explained to him - for every situation - that he should keep his pants on with girls.

,,DAD!’’ the boy hissed and blushed.

But at least this topic was now cleared up - for now at least.

Saeran

The young father sat across the two boys who shared his blood, trying to find the right words.

There was an unpleasant silence between both parties.

What did you expect of a boy, who didn’t have a father or even a big brother to explain to him about his own body?

He didn’t even remember how he did it.

One day he woke up and his penis was standing and somehow some urges came up - or he just went to pee.

Something always worked.

And one night when he saw a new member of Rika’s cult, and an older man noticed what happened to him, it was somehow explained in a rush that he should just go to his own room.

Saeran, in fact, didn't really have the urge to masturbate until he saw you, kissed you, and came closer to you.

It wasn’t until the day the two of you had more things to do together.

In fact, he didn’t even know how he managed to know what he was supposed to do with himself after seeing you naked.

You took the lead and he just went with it and somehow it felt good.

It was actually you who taught him what his penis was for. Why did he have to talk about this with his children now?

He sighed again nervously and then finally spoke up.

,,So, your mother wants me to explain a few things to you,’’ Saeran told them.

,,First of all, the hardened tissues next to your beds should disappear. Mom didn’t enjoy touching them.

And the sticky bed sheets…please don’t hide them.

Second, what is happening to your body right now is totally normal,’’ Saeran said.

He tried to recall whatever you told him the first time the two of you tried to sleep together.

,,But there are some unspoken rules for how we should behave for mom’s sake…’’ Saeran scratched his head.

He tried to explain every possible new thing in their body and at the end of the long discussion, he was actually pretty happy with the outcome…

Jihyun

The mint haired man looked at the son he had taken in.

It was a cute child who unfortunately lost his parents as soon as he was born.

You and Jihyun immediately fell in love with him and fought to take him in - and won.

Since then, he and Lucy have lived the best life.

Now, however, Jihyun had to go through the next step.

He tried to remember how he was taught about the topic - getting hard, masturbation.

When he first realized what happened to him, he was with Jumin in Jumin’s room.

The maid - who was just in her same outfit that day - had a different effect on both boys and the butler who back then was in charge somehow, noticed and made sure to explain everything.

Manners were important.

Jihyun wasn’t like the typical man, he thought.

He never seemed to have the urge to masturbate, never eyed any woman on the street and the only experience he had was with Rika and you.

But he knew that not everyone was like him and he knew that it was his job to help his son get things together.

After all, you took care of Lucy when she first had her first period.

You remembered how softly you were speaking with the little girl who was crying in the bathroom.

Of course, he and the little boy stayed in another room, although the boy was too little to realize that his sister just entered the world of being almost an adult.

You also made sure to teach her the so-called basics of self-pleasure - it was a very important topic in your opinion.

And now it was his task. His son came running to you early in the morning, whining about the fact that his pipy was alive. You didn’t laugh, but he knew you were holding yourself back.

,,Your Pipy isn’t alive. Actually, it’s called a penis…and growing older, your penis will grow too,’’ Jihyun began, feeling kind of stupid.

But for his son, this was a big deal and Jihyun promised that he wouldn’t let him down on that.

Vanderwood  

Your husband didn’t believe his ears late at night when he heard his son and his friends talking about…their penis.

You were shocked, your mouth covered by your hands as the two of you listened to what the children were saying.

,,Mine is longer,’’ one said while the other one responded with something you never thought you would hear from a ten years old.

,,But why is it like that?’’ your son said and at that point, you knew that neither of the boys knew what was happening with their bodies.

,,I think you should go in and explain and first of all, let them pack in their…you know what, again,’’ you said, patting him on his arms.

,,I am not going to teach strangers about sex education. I will talk to our son, but not to the other two.

You looked at the clock. ,,I will call their parents and tell them that you are going to because our three boys suddenly are comparing their ,,you know what!’’ in our son’s room!’’ This was indeed a reason, but still odd.

You made sure to call the parents - who took the situation pretty well, but rather wanted to pick up their children to do it themselves.

Suddenly, however, two more dads found themselves in your son’s room and instead of picking them up, the three of you decided to let your husbands talk now.

,,Daddy, is yours always up?’’ your son asked. The other two boys looked at Vanderwood.

Your walls were so thin that you three women had a lot of fun hearing the father’s clueless stammer.

But whatever it was, you all knew that they were doing great…

ᗰᗩᔕTEᖇᒪIᔕT

24.06.2022 // 12:59 MEST 

[i-am-baechu]

Title: Ice Princess | ♞ | | ♚ | | ♛ |

Paring: Kim Seokjin x reader

Genre: CEO Jin Au, Ice skating teacher au, strangers to lovers au, single father au, age difference au, fluff, romance, angst, and smut

Summary: Getting a divorce was the best decision Seokjin has ever made in his life. Nina never truly loved their son the way he wished his partner did when he was younger. Now after three years, his son wants to do ice skating for his new hobby and Jin wants to start dating. Meeting the loud and blunt ice skating teacher was Jin's next favorite decision. The two slowly realized how much they missed loving someone, especially on Christmas. 

Warnings: Parent abonament, divorce, being a single parent, and multiple sex scenes 

Author’s note: Happy birthday Jin!!!! I was listening to Dust to Dust by Civil Wars and I felt like it matched the characters perfectly.

I remember being a kid and seeing my parents being so in love. As I got older, I saw my brother experience the same love with his wife and I realized that’s all I wanted. To be with someone and just feel pure love and happiness. It was a stupid thing to wish for as a child and even a teenager but it was one of my top wishes. I wanted a family that was filled with warmth and even outside our house, the feeling of home never left. I never thought divorce would happen to me or even having full custody because my ex wife didn’t even want to see our child. I guess everyone makes mistakes and hopefully that mistake will turn into a win in my book at least. 

Kim Seokjin sat in his living room alone after another fulfilling Christmas with his eight-year-old son, Doyoung. He looked down at the eggnog in his glass and took a big gulp of it as the warm whisky warmed his throat. He grabbed his phone from across the couch and picked it up to see Jungkook, his assistant, texting him. He unlocked his phone and smiled to see the younger man saying happy Christmas and sending him a picture of his wife and new addition to his family. His smile quickly disappeared when he heard small footsteps going down the steps in his house. He looked to the side to see his son rubbing his eyes gently causing him to get up and kneel down to his level in concern. 

“What’s wrong little star?” 

Doyoung stopped rubbing his eyes and tilted his head at his father with a frown, “I felt lonely...” 

“Why? Was your teddy not giving you enough attention? Should I have a stern talk with him?” 

Jin went to tickle his son’s stomach as Doyoung let out a loud giggle, “Papa, no. I just felt lonely... Can you sleep with me?” 

“Yeah, let's go, little star.” 

Doyoung gave him a smile and grabbed his hand as he led him to his bedroom. Jin let a small smile appear when he saw all his toys he got in his chest and his posters already on his walls. Doyoung pushed his dark blue blanket that had stars on them and Jin took off his slippers and went to bed with him. Doyoung immediately wrapped his arms around his fathers waist as Jin brought him closer. He kissed his forehead and Doyong let out a small laugh, “I love you papa.” 

“I love you...so much more, my son.” 

In another house, Y/N stares at her Christmas tree in her empty living room or rather empty house. Her roommate, Joy, decided to go back to her hometown with her boyfriend to have Christmas with her family. While all her friends were with their families, Y/N was alone in her living room with her Christmas lights shining brightly in her face, mocking her. She got up from the wooden floor and walked up to her bedroom slowly. She sat on her bed as she looked outside her window to see the soft snow becoming one with the ground. She smiled at the stars and moon but no matter how bright it was outside, it didn’t touch her. The only people that texted her happy holidays were her roommate and her older brother, that was it but why would she expect her parents to text her. She grabbed her dark green blanket and looked up at her ceiling with a sad look whispering to herself, “Merry Christmas...”

Jin was in his office typing away when his phone started ringing. He picked up the phone and was met with surprise when he heard the voice of his son's babysitter, Mark, “Hello?”

“Oh, Mr. Kim. I’m just calling you to let you know that Doyoung wanted to go to an ice rink and I was wondering if that's okay?” 

“An ice rink? That’s new. Ummm...Where is the ice rink so I can know where he's at?” 

“At Queendom’s Ice Rink across the street from Starbucks, Doyong always goes, sir.” 

“Oh, that’s not too far. Okay, text me to let me know when you're there please and thank you.” 

“No problem, sir.” 

Jin put his phone back and looked at his documents with furrowed eyebrows, “Ice skating, that's new.” 

He heard a knock on the door and snapped out of his thoughts as he let out a small cough, “Come in!” 

The door opened to reveal Namjoon and Yoongi with folders in their hands smiling at him, “Good morning, Sir.”

“Good morning, Namjoon, Yoongi. What do you need me for?” 

Yoongi took out a document and handed it to him as Namjoon gave him an uneasy look, “It seems like Flimmagic pictures wants to re-discuss the deal you offer.” 

Jin raised his eyebrow and took the document in confusion, “What is there to discuss? I gave them 45 percent of the deal and I allowed them to use their filming studio instead of ours, what’s there to discuss?”

“Sir, they want to raise the deal to 55 percent and they want to change studios...”

Jin glared at the paper and shook his head at this, “Our productions are putting their special on television, why would they be asking more?” 

“It’s because they saw how much Daybreak studios made with us, sir.”

“That deal was different, they gave us new equipment and software. I guess set up a meeting with them on March second, so we can get this over with. Thank you.”

The two of them nodded their heads at the CEO and walked to the room leaving Jin to stare at the paperwork with an angry look. He looked at the time to see it was three and realized that he was going to be home late, something he doesn’t like doing. He picked up his phone and texted Mark, I’m going to be home around seven or eight. Sorry for the late notice but something came up unexpectedly. 

No problem sir! 

Down at Queendom Ice Rink, Doyoung held onto Mark’s hand tightly as they entered the large rink. When they walked in, his eyes became wide at the fairy lights that were wrapped around the small lights across the railing of the stairs. Doyoung let go of Mark’s hands and looked across the way to see the biggest ice rink he has ever seen. He saw many people going in a circle but there were people doing tricks, tricks that he wanted to do after seeing that sports special with his father. He ran back to Mark and started jumping up and down with his hand in his, “Mark!! I want to go on the ice!” 

“Let me text your father that we’re here first and then we can go.”

“Okay.”

Mark took his phone out and sent a simple message to his boss, Were at Queendoms now, sir. As he put his phone back in his pocket, Doyoung latched himself onto his legs as he let out a small chuckle. 

“Mark, I want to go now!!”

 “I just texted your father, we can go now.” 

Doyoung didn’t need to be told twice and grabbed Mark’s hand to run down the iron stairs in a hurry. Mark just continued to smile at the young boy and looked at the many crowds of people getting ready or leaving. He walked up to the cashier and gave her a small smile, “Hello, how can I help you?”

“May I have a size fourteen mens and a size 8 in children skates, please.”

“Of course, you said child, right? You can sign up to a free skating class that they have today, if you like.”

Mark thought to himself and nodded his head, “Yeah why not.” 

The lady nodded her head and headed towards the back for a clipboard. She came back with a smile and handed it towards him, “Can you please put the child's name on the form so they can be accounted for.”

“Of course, can I ask who’s teaching the class?”

“Oh, she's the champion of the local ice skating competition here. Y/N L/N.”

Mark looked up with a head tilt and nodded his head, “I heard of her, she won the Victoria competition?” 

“Yes, she won the Victoria and the Anastasia competitions here. She’s also traveled the world for her career so, don’t worry. She’s qualified to teach, she does it every year.” 

Mark headed her the clipboard and nodded his head, “That sounds fun, maybe she can teach me some moves.” 

He let out a small laugh as the lady laughed with him as she headed towards the back. She grabbed the skates off of the wall and handed it to him carefully, “The blades are covered so be careful taking them off. For the children's skates, it's the same. The class starts in twenty minutes and will be held at the end of the rink. Have fun out there.”

“Thank you so much.” 

He turned around to see that Doyoung was watching the people on the ice with wide eyes, making Mark smile softly at the scene. He walked up to Dyoung and gently patted his back, “Hey lets put these on and we head out to the ice. I have a surprise for you after we put on the skates, okay.”

“Okay!” 

When Mark got both of their skates on, Doyoung started tugging on his sleeves in excitement as Mark let out a loud laugh, “Can I help you?”

“You said I have a surprise...” 

Mark bopped his nose and Doyoung let out a small giggle, “I signed you up to a class so you can learn tricks and what not.” 

His eyes widened and he started clapping his hands, “Really?!?”

“Yes and if it goes well, I’ll ask your father if you can continue it.” 

Doyoung nodded his head and grabbed Mark’s hand to head to the ice. In the beginning Mark helped Doyoung keep his balance by holding his waist as he led the way. Doyoung was laughing and smiling when a girl came into the middle giving him a small smile. 

“Hello, if you're in the class can you please come to the middle, thank you.” 

Mark stopped and looked down at Doyoung who gave him a nervous look, “Markie...do I go?” 

“Yeah, I can walk you in the middle if you want?” 

Doyoung shook his head, “No, I want to go by myself.” 

“Okay, go show them who you are then. You’ll do great. If it becomes too much I’ll be by your side, okay.” 

“Okay...Markie...”

Doyoung skated forward slowly and before he could meet up with the teacher, he looked behind himself to look at Mark who was waving at him gently. He nodded his head at Mark and went forward to see that he was the first student there. 

Y/N looked down at the short boy and gave him a big smile, “Hello, you're the first one here. At least I know you can listen to instructions.” 

She gave him a wink and Doyoung gave her a smile, “I listen to instructions, my dad tells me that all the time.” 

“Oh, does he now? When I was your age I used to do the opposite.” 

“You didn’t get in trouble?” 

“I never said that.” 

Doyoung let out a small laugh as she ruffled his hair and saw that he was the only student there. She bit her lip and looked down at the little boy, “It looks like we're having our class now. What's your name?” 

“You say your name first...”

“My name is Y/N L/N, the great. What's your name?” 

“Doyoung...why am I the only one here?” 

“Ah, it's Monday that's why. I get more students on Thursdays and Fridays but hey it's alright because I'm going to teach you. How did you get interested in skating?” 

“Me and my dad watched a sports special that had ice skating together last week. I thought it would be fun to try.” 

Y/N gave him a smile and nodded her head, “That’s sweet. The first thing I’m going to teach you is how to stand, is it okay if I grab your hands?” 

Doyoung nodded his head at her, “Am I going to fly in the air?”

“Oh no sweetie, the first thing we need to learn is how to stand and then move forward, gently.” 

Jin leaned back in his chair as he ran his hands over his face in frustration and tiredness. He closed his eyes for a few seconds until his phone vibrated and he unlocked his phone to let a smile appear, Sir, we just came home. Doyoung wanted me to send you a picture of him with his teacher. 

Jin clicked on the picture and his eyebrow raised at the teacher with his son, “She's pretty...” He let out a small chuckle when he saw his son smiling widely on the ice and looked at the time to see it was six-thirty. He shut off his phone and started to put his documents back in the many folders on his desk. He put all of his belongings into his bag and shut off all the lights within his office but before he could head out he locked the doors. Driving home was very slow to him, the traffic was more than usual causing him to feel even more tired from his long day. When he was in his driveway he saw the time was now seven thirty and he knew Doyoung was sleeping for school. The one thing he hated was Doyoung going to bed before he could kiss him goodnight, it hurt him. He got out of the car and headed inside to see Mark sitting on his couch watching Spiderman. 

“Mark?” 

Mark looked behind him and waved at him, “What’s up Jin.” 

Jin rolled his eyes and set all his stuff on a table near the door, “How was Doyoung today?” 

“Oh, he was perfect as always. I think you have a new problem though.” 

Jin entered the living room with a confused look as he untied his tie, “Oh, what is that?”

“He wants to continue his lessons so you better buy skates soon.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do, I can fire you anytime you know.” 

Mark rolled his eyes and put his water on the coffee table as he looked up at Jin, “Then you can tell Doyoung that you fired his godfather.” 

Jin sat down on the couch as he looked at the tv and then back at Mark, “What's the teacher's name?” 

“Y/N L/N.”

She opened the door to see Joy drinking red wine as she watched her dramas on the tv. Y/N let out a small chuckle and walked in putting her stuff down on the table. She walked in the living room and grabbed the switch from the charging cable making Joy glance at her. 

“Long day?” 

“Not really, it was actually a really good day but something weird kept happening.” 

Joy set her wine on the table and sat next to her with excitement, “Oh, do tell me.” 

“I had a student and he was the sweetest boy I have ever met in my teaching. That's not the weird thing that happened, I kept sneezing.” 

“Ohhh, that means someone is talking about or thinking about you.” 

“Hopefully it's positive.” 

He waved to his workers who were shocked to see him leaving but didn’t question it. When Jin was in the parking lot of Queendom he texted Mark, Meet me outside. He stared at himself in his mirror and fixed his hair but as he did this he didn’t know someone was approaching him.

It’s been six lessons and Jin still hasn’t met the teacher that Doyoung talks about all the time. It doesn’t matter where they are, he always tells Jin about her. Jin would be lying if he wasn’t curious about the teacher and her personality. The only thing he knew was that she was pretty from the one picture Mark sent him and how she makes Doyoung laugh. Today was different though, he told Namjoon to take care of the paperwork he had to finish and Jungkook to make sure his office was locked because today was the day he will meet the teacher. 

“Jin?”

“Oh shit!” Jin jumped in his seat and hit his head on the roof of his car and stared at Mark who had a smirk on his face, “What?” 

“You're the one that texted me to meet you outside. Isn’t it early for you to be out of work?”

“I-I...I haven’t been with Doyoung in awhile so I wanted to surprise him.” 

“It's only been a month but alright. Do you want me to leave so you can have precious time with him?”

“Yeah, if you're okay with that?” 

Mark looked down at his watch and nodded his head, “I was actually invited to a party by Jimin so, perfect timing.” 

Jin nodded his head and rolled up his window and locked his car, “Alright I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Yup. Oh and talk to her!” 

Jin turned around and glared at Mark who gave him a thumbs off making him roll his eyes. He entered the rink and his ears perked up when he heard his son’s laughter. He went towards the railing and leaned forward to see his son laughing away with the woman from the picture. He instantly smiled at the scene and he headed down the stairs slowly as he watched his son. He leaned against the railings around the ice rink and he gazed at the teacher who was holding his son's hand. He looked the women up and down but was snapped out of his gaze when he heard a voice, “Daddy!!!” 

He watched his son slowly skate across the ice as the woman watched him with a small smile. Jin gave Doyoung a smile as he grabbed his hand, “Hello little star.”

“I thought you had to work daddy?” 

“You see my star, I felt like I haven’t seen you in so long and I had to see you because I missed you so much.”

Doyoung nodded his head and turned around to look at Y/N with his innocent eyes, “Miss. L/N, this is my dad.” 

Y/N skated towards the two and nodded her head at Jin, “Hello, my name is Y/N L/N. I’m obviously his ice skating teacher.” 

Jin smiled at her and nodded his head “I’m obviously his dad, Seokjin.”

“Obviously. Doyoung, how about today we finish early so you can spend time with your dad.” 

Jin gulped and felt bad that he cut the lesson early but before he could say continue Doyoung shook his head, “Miss. L/N I want to show my dad how good I've gotten.” 

Y/N looked at Doyoung with a soft face making Jin’s heart flutter at the look as she turned towards him, “Is that okay Mr. Kim?” 

“Please call me Jin and I would love to see you- Doyoung skate.” 

She raised her eyebrow and let a small smirk appear on her face and nodded her head, “Doyoung shall we?” 

“Yes, Miss. L/N.” 

She looked Jin up and down and when Doyoung was out of hearing she smirked at him, “If you're going to check someone out next time make sure you make it less obvious.” 

Jin’s face turned red and scratched the back of his head as he looked away from her, “I-I- I’m sorry-”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” 

He looked back at her with a raised eyebrow and before he could say anything she gave him a wink and skated away to his son. His eyes widened as he watched her skate away and he let out a deep sigh that he was holding in. He watched his son skate around the rink while holding her hands and doing small spins making his heart flutter. Every time he saw her making him laugh, it made his face flush even more. He hasn’t even noticed that it's been an hour. 

When the lesson was done, Doyoung jumped into Jin’s arms as he held him tightly. He kissed the side of his head as Y/N smiled at the sweet scene before her, “You did good today Doyoung, I’ll see you next week.”

“Wait!” 

Y/N turned around with a raised eyebrow, “Yes?” 

“I-I could walk you to your car?”

She looked up as she thought to herself and nodded her head, “Sure. Let me get my bag and you can lead me.” 

She waved at him slowly and went towards the locker room as Jin watched her leave. Doyoung lifted her head from his shoulder and watched Y/N leave, “Daddy do you think Miss. L/N is pretty?” 

“What makes you say that?” 

“Mark says when you look at someone a lot that means you think they're pretty.” 

“What do you think, Doyoung?” 

Doyoung's face flushed lightly and hid his face in his neck, “I think she's pretty...and funny.” 

“That’s good to know.” 

Doyoung laid his head back on his shoulder and he started to fall asleep. Jin rubbed his back gently as he waited for Y/N. He swayed side to side and when he heard footsteps he looked up and saw her in a black crop top with glitter weaved in the shirt and grey sweatpants. She waved at him and looked at Doyoung with a concerned look, “Did he fall asleep?”

“Yeah, I guess he had a long day with school and the ice skating lesson.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that kids go to school with other kids.” 

Jin let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, “He loves his school so that's all I can ask for.” 

“God, Doyoung is so different from other kids. I hated school and all the kids there but of course everyone loves him who wouldn’t.” 

His mother... “I’m glad you love him, it makes me happy.” 

“Shall we go? Before it gets darker.” 

He nodded his head and they both walked out of the ice rink together. They chatted about small things and he realized that she was very blunt with her answers. For example, “Do you ever get cold ice skating?” “I’m on ice? So, yeah.” But he thought it was funny because it was coming from her. 

He walked in front of her car and he gave her a smile, “Thank you for making Doyoung happy this past month.” 

“Oh, I love him and I’m not just saying that because you’re his father. I would tell you if I didn’t like him.”

“I believe that.”

She opened her car door and looked at him with a smile, “Thanks for walking me to my car.” 

“Of course...I wanted to ask you something to be honest.” 

She put her bag in her passenger seat and turned towards him with a raised eyebrow, “Oh, what is it?” 

“This weekend...Would you like to have lunch with me? To say thank you for making my son happy.” 

“Oh lunch with someone so fancy...I would love too. I get to look at you more so it would be great.” 

He let out a small chuckle as he looked down at his shoes and then back at her, “Okay. Can I have your number?” 

“Of course you can but you have to work for it. You can ask Mark for my number.” 

She winked at him and sat in her driver seat as he stared at her with a raised eyebrow, “I’ll work for it then. I’ll see you this weekend then.” 

“I’ll see you this weekend, Mr. Fancy.” 

He waved at her the best he could as he held Doyoung and walked back to his car. He turned around to watch her drive off and she gave him a small wave. He smiled and pressed the button to open the door and put him in his seat. He kissed his forehead and took a blanket that he kept in the trunk for emergencies or whenever Doyoung fell asleep in the car. He wrapped him in the blanket and kissed his forehead again before he closed the door. He sat in the driver seat and took his phone out, Mark, Give me Y/N’s number. Why do you have her number in the first place?

Ohh...She wanted my number in case Doyoung gets hurt and I sent her pictures of his dad to her ;) and she was very interested.

Is that why you told me to talk to her -.- 

Get your dick wet. 

Stop. 

Jin looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath. He flattened his white shirt and grabbed his ripped jean jacket from his bed as he continued to stare in his mirror. He put his watch on and a silver ring but he didn’t see Mark leaning against his doorframe. 

“You look so casual, I'm not used to it.” 

Jin looked at him and looked back at his outfit with a frown, “I look stupid, don’t I.” 

“I didn’t say that. You look casual, you look good.”

Jin sighed and looked back into the mirror with a frown, “I don’t want to give dad vibes...” 

“Is it because she's twenty-seven, dude it's fine. Your only thirty-six, not fucking ninety.” 

He rolled his eyes and started walking towards him with a smile, “It’s my first date in five years...Is that sad?” 

Mark shook his head and put his hand on his shoulder, “You’ve been working your ass off and raising your child with the help of me. It makes sense, it's time for you to focus on yourself and get some pussy.” 

“Don’t say that. I like her and I don’t want to just have sex with her, I actually want to have a relationship.” 

“At least one of us can do that. Anyways, Doyoung was asking for you.” 

Jin nodded his head and headed towards the living room to see him sitting on the couch eating his animal cookies, “Doyoung, is everything okay?” 

Doyoung put his cookies down and looked at Jin with a frown, “I’m sad that you won’t be with me today.” 

Jin frowned and sat next to Doyoung, “I want to start going out...I’ll always be with you no matter what, okay.” 

“Okay, daddy.” 

He gave him a smile and he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took his phone out and he let a small smile appear, I just finished getting ready so, you can come now if you want lol.

He put his phone back in his pocket and kissed Doyoung’s forehead, “I’ll be back tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Mark smiled at the scene and sat next to Doyoung on the other side of him, “Go on, have fun but not too much fun.” 

Jin rolled his eyes and got up from the couch. He gave them a small wave and headed outside to his car. He gripped the wheel and took a deep breath before he drove towards her apartment. Unknowing to him, Y/N was also feeling nervous for the lunch date with Jin but she wanted to come across confident within the text. She stared at the light pink sundress that showed off her collarbones and shoulders. The dress itself stopped above her knee and it had some lace at the bottom of the skirt. She turned to the side as she stared at herself and sighed heavily. She walked out to her living room to see Joy and her boyfriend, Hyoseob, watching the food network together. 

Joy looked at her with a small smile, “Ohh, look at you. You look so cute.”

“Is it fancy?”

“I think you look great. Did he say where you're going?”

“The Five Roses.”

Hyoseob raised his eyebrow at this and looked at her, “The Five Roses is so fancy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and sat in her arm chair as crossed her legs, “I know. That’s why I asked if I looked fancy.”

“Maybe add a pearl necklace?”

“Thank you Hyoseob, that’s actually a good idea.”

Before she could get up Joy yelled at her to wait, making her turn towards Joy with a raised eyebrow, “Y/N, you look fine. If you didn’t look fine, I would’ve told you.”

She let out a sigh and leaned back in her chair with a frown, “Fine. I’m just nervous because it’s been a year since I went on a date and Jin is fancier than me.” 

“But at the end of the day, Jin is just someone you're interested in regardless of age and how “fancy” he is.”

She nodded her head in agreement and took her phone out to see that Jin was waiting for her in the driveway. She let out a dramatic sigh and stood up to see Joy had done the same, “I look good?”

“Of course you do, it’s my dress.” 

“I will burn this.”

Joy let out a chuckle and walked her towards the door and hugged her, “Everything will be okay don’t be too blunt. You can be real mean sometimes.” 

She nodded her head and walked out of the door as Joy watched through the window. She saw Jin looking down at his phone and then looked up when he heard footsteps. They both stared at each other and mirrored the same bashful smiles but one had red ears. Jin got out of his car and his smile only grew bigger at her, “You look beautiful.”

Her eyes widened at the compliment and she shyly looked away, “Shut up. I was expecting a suit, you look good casual.”

Jin smiled at this and did a little pose causing her to let out a small laugh, “Thank you I do try.”

“You're so cute.”

He opened the passenger door and grabbed her hand gently to help her in. She looked down at the hands and her face turned red, “How nice of you.”

“Anything for you.”

He winked at her causing her eyes to widen at him but she couldn’t say anything because he closed the door. She watched him go to the other side and she looked at his nice expensive car. She didn’t want to touch anything because everything was so clean and nice, even the steering wheel was nicer than hers. When he entered the car, he gripped the wheel and turned towards her, “I hope The Five Roses is okay with you.” 

“It's fine, I saw people say their red velvet cake is the best.” 

“Is that your favorite?” 

“Red velvet cake is my favorite when it's done right. Too much dye and it ruins the cake.”

“I’ll remember that. You're ready?” 

“Of course I am.” 

The drive there was very calming with the conversation between them overpowering the soft jazz music in the background. When the car stopped, she looked outside to see a pastel purple restaurant that had flowers around the large windows. She looked back at Jin who gave her a gentle smile, “Do you like it?” 

“It's so cute. I was expecting it to be more fancy, not homely.” 

“Isn’t homely better than fancy?” 

“Always.” 

He got out of the car and headed towards her side to help her out. She grabbed his hand and held it tightly so she wouldn’t fall from her heels. When she settled on the ground, she gave him a small thanks as she flattened out her skirt. He looked down at her hand and thought to himself if he should hold her hand or not but as he was thinking to himself about it, she grabbed his hand. 

“Don’t look so shocked, you were the one that was staring.” 

His thumb gently rubbed hers and nodded his head, “Shall we get some food.” 

“We shall.” 

The two walked towards the restaurant hand in hand as she leaned her head against his arm. He couldn’t stop smiling at the softness of her hands and the butterflies he had from her head on his arms. He opened the door and he waved at Hoseok, who was the owner.

“Ah, Jin, welcome. Aren’t you here early?” 

“Yes I am, is that alright?”

Hoseok looked behind him to look at the tables to see there were spots for him open, “There’s a spot near the window, is that alright?”

Jin looked down at her as she looked up at him at the sudden movement, “Is that alright with you?”

“I don’t see a problem with it.” 

Jin nodded his head at her and looked at Hoseok with a wide smile, “I’ll take it.” 

Hoseok smiled at this and took some menus out from behind and moved to the side for them, “Follow me please.” 

They walked towards the table and Jin pulled out her chair as she said her small thanks and sat in the chair. He did the same as Hoseok handed out the menus and gave them a final smile, “Taehyung will be your server for today.” 

She watched him leave and looked at Jin with a confused look, “Do you know him?”

“Oh, yeah. We went to the same college and have been friends since then.” 

“Aww, how cute. Do you know what you're going to get?” 

The two continued to have small talk and order their food and drinks. She leaned back in her chair and stared at him with a shocked face, “No one wanted to date you for five years, I found that to be unlikely.” 

He let out a chuckle as he sipped his water, “It's not that no one wanted to date me...I just never found someone that I was interested in.” 

“You were interested in me?” 

“I mean, who wouldn’t be? Enough about my past, what about yours?” 

She rolled her eyes and stared at the window, “Last year, I went on two dates with this guy but then his ex-girlfriend showed up and she was pregnant. I walked out before he could say anything to me.”

“That sounds rough but at least now you can be with someone who's very much interested in you.” 

“You really know how to flatter a girl.” 

“I only want to flatter you from now on, if you like?” 

Her smile widened and nodded her head, “I would actually love that but don’t get too cocky.”

The evening was so easy for the two. There was no awkwardness between the two, only comfort and laughs. Y/N learned that Jin was married to a woman named Nina Lee and she was actually his highschool sweetheart. He explained that he loved her for more than she ever loved him but he never saw it until Doyoung was born. She only wanted a child to prove to her mother that she was fertile but never told Jin that she never cared about kids. After Doyoung was born, she left to go clubbing with her friends leaving Doyoung with Mark, her brother. Jin was desperate to work it out with her but that all changed when he saw her on top of someone in their bedroom. After that, divorce. He moved out of the house and he became the CEO of Siesta’s Network.

The only thing Y/N could tell him was that she lives with her best friend and she competed in ice skating competitions becoming top twenty in Korea but that was it. She didn’t really have much to tell him besides that but Jin told her that it's an achievement that he could never get. 

They walked back towards the car with their hands intertwined with each other. Jin looked down at the girl and smiled, he can really see this relationship going somewhere and he hopes she saw it that way too.

It was now September, which means it's been four months of being together with Y/N and he couldn’t be happier. In the past four months, Y/N and Jin have been going out every Saturday and on Sundays they both spend time with Doyoung at Jin’s house. Doyoung was delighted that Y/N was dating his father but that didn’t change anything between her teaching him at the ice rink. Doyoung felt even closer with her because after their lessons she would take him to dinner with Mark or just the two of them. The only thing that they were putting off was having sex for the first time, wanting to wait longer. 

In the past four months, Jin has also been busy with work. Flimmagic has been difficult with their filming and have been late with some of the deadlines, something that annoyed him greatly. Another thing that annoyed him was that the CEO of that company didn’t bother writing emails to him, having his assistant sign it off. He doesn’t even know the CEO’s name and he hadn’t had time to look him up. 

Today, Y/N was watching a random movie that was on her tv. She wasn’t really paying attention but she needed the background sound to relax on her day off. It was the first Saturday of the month and she was waiting for Jin to message her about their date. Last night, she asked him what they were going to do today but he kept saying it was a surprise. She even asked Doyoung but he kept saying the same thing. 

Just as she was closing her eyes, her phone started to buzz on the cushion next to her. She groaned and picked up her phone and she immediately got up when she saw the message, Come outside! 

She walked towards her front window and saw Jin in the driveway waving at her with Doyoung next to him. She ran outside and stared at them with a confused look, “Is this the date?” 

“Actually, Doyoung wanted to go to an amusement park and I remember you saying you wanted to go there once so, here we are.” 

She looked him up and down in his outfit, “And you had to wear overalls?” 

“Do you not like it?” 

She looked at Doyoung and then leaned forward so she could whisper in his ear, “I never thought overalls would turn me on but here I am.” 

Jin started coughing at that as she leaned back to her spot with a smirk on her face, “Anyways, let me change and we can go.” 

“Doyoung, you heard that! We're going to the park, go inside as we wait for Y/N, okay?” 

“Okay!” 

He rushed to the backseat as they both laughed at how fast he got into the car. Jin looked her up and down and returned the smirk that she had towards him, “You look sexy in lounge clothes.” 

She looked down at her outfit and raised her eyebrow, “I’m wearing a sweater and sweatpants, the least revealing clothes.” 

“Anything is sexy on you, anyways I’ll be in the car waiting for you.” 

“Sounds like a plan, I’ll be right back.” 

Jin got back into his car as Y/N rushed back inside her house. She took out her phone and texted Joy that she would be out this afternoon and no one would be home. After that she went straight to her room and threw on a dark blue cardigan that had orange flowers on it and some jeans. She rushed back outside after she locked the door and went to the passenger side. 

“That was fast, it hasn't even been three minutes.” 

“I’m just so excited, sorry.” 

“No worries, Doyoung was excited too.” 

She turned around and gave him a big smile, “What are we going to do first?” 

“Daddy said I could have a funnel cake!” 

She looked at Jin and wiggled her eyebrows, “Oh a funnel cake, is this because he got one hundred on his math test?” 

“It helped with the decision. You ready Doyoung?” 

“YES!!!” 

The car ride there was filled with Y/N and Doyoung singing along to the random Disney songs that Jin put on. He glanced between Doyoung and Y/N and his heart fluttered at the scene before him. This is what he wanted his family to be like, this is what he wanted since he was a kid. He parked his car in the parking lot and started singing along with them waiting for the song to end so they could head out. Doyoung immediately grabbed Y/N’s hand and Jin held her other hand. He leaned down and kissed her forehead as she looked up at him with excitement in her eyes, “Are you ready?” 

“You don’t have to ask me, you should know the answer by looking me in the eyes.” 

Jin let out a small laugh and nodded his head, “True, lets go!” 

Like Doyoung said, the first thing he wanted was the funnel cake. They all sat at a table and shared the cake together. Jin kept taking pictures of everyone and sending it to Mark to show him how fun Doyoung was having. The two watched Doyoung on the many rides as Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder. Y/N even convinced him to ride a rollercoaster with her and Doyoung, something he regretted. 

After the long day, the drive home was silent, different from the drive there. Doyoung was passed out in the back as Jin had a hand on the wheel and the other on Y/N’s thigh. She leaned back in the seat and turned towards him, “Thank you.”

“For what love?” 

“Just wanting to be with me...I can’t explain to you what it means.” 

Jin glanced at her quickly and shook his head, “The moment I saw you, I felt something and then I talked to you, it changed everything for me. Thank you for wanting to be with someone that had a divorce.” 

Y/N scoffed at this and looked at him, “Even if you didn’t have a divorce and were just a single parent, I would’ve still been with you.” 

“That’s sweet of you, love.”

“Don’t get used to it.” 

Jin rolled his eyes and glanced down at the time to see it was eight at night. He gave Y/N a worried glance, “Do you want to come to my house and sleep for the night? It’s kind of late...” 

 She took her phone out of her pocket and saw that Joy was home and smirked, “Since Joy’s home, I would love to stay the night with you.” 

“Is it because you're scared that house would get broken into if no one was there?” 

“God you know me so well, it's disgusting.” 

When they arrived in Jin’s driveway, he gently picked up Doyoung as Y/N took his keys to unlock the door. He slowly walked up the stairs as Y/N locked up all the doors. She headed up the stairs and walked into Doyoung’s room to see him in his plaid pajamas laying down in his bed. She walked behind Jin and wrapped her arm around his waist as Jin put his over her shoulders, “Goodnight, Doyoung.” 

“Goodnight my little star.” 

They both leaned down and kissed his forehead as he let out a small laugh. They gently closed the door and Y/N kissed his cheek, “You're such a good father.” 

“Mark also helped me along the way.” 

“Shut up and take my compliment.” 

He laughed and they walked together into his bedroom with her head against his arm. He handed her a shirt and some boxers for the night. She folded her clothes and set them on top of his dresser. He came out of his bathroom and leaned against the doorframe as he looked her up and down. To see Y/N in comfy clothes and her hair in a loose ponytail just did something to him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek as she leaned back into his chest. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course you can, Jin.” 

He looked into the mirror and stared at her with a smirk, “Can we do what we did the other night at your place?” 

She looked up at him with a confused look, “What brought that up?” 

He kissed her neck as she let out a small moan, “Just seeing you with Doyoung and in comfy clothes, it's just...it's so hot.” 

“God Jin, you're acting like a horny teenager, I love it. Let’s go.” 

He smirked and picked her up suddenly and tossed her on the bed making her let out a small laugh. Jin slowly crawled over her and started kissing her but their position slowly changed. He lifted her up and brought her into his lap as her fingers clung to his hair. Their tongues grew more daring as they both let out small moans and groans. Jin brought his hands up and cupped the soft flesh on her chest making her lean forward a bit. His thumb grazed her nipple which was already hard from the make out session and Jin seemed to gain more confidence because he cupped her butt and started to rock her against his crotch. 

She groaned softly when she felt how hard he was and pulled away from him, “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course love, anything.”

She looked down and bit her lip before looking back up at him, “Jin, I-I...I love you and I know it's kind of quick but I really do love you.” 

His eyes widened at this and then it turned soft, “Damn...I really wanted to say it first but you beat me to it.” 

She let out a small giggle and leaned forward and started to leave kisses all over his face, “I really do love you.”

“And I really love you, my universe.” 

“Oh my god, Doyoung is your star and I’m your universe. That’s so cute, it's disgusting.” 

He rolled his eyes and squeezed her butt as he brought her back to grind his crotch as she let out a groan, “My universe...”

“Do you want me to turn around or are we going to do it like this?” 

Jin looked down at himself and saw how hard he was and shrugged his shoulders, “Honestly, whatever you want. I just need to let it out.”  

She nodded her head and took off her shirt to show him her bare breasts. He watched her breast jiggled at the sudden movement making him leaned forward and captured one of her nipples into his mouth. Her hands went to his hair and gripped at it as a soft moan escaped her lips, “We should hurry up...I might just cum from that.” 

“Okay. Thank god for dry humping.” 

“Again, horny teenager. Get to it.” 

Happy birthday my love! I hope you're excited for dinner tonight! Don’t you dare bring your wallet tonight!

Jin smiled at the text and put the phone away when he heard the door open. Even though it was a Saturday, Jin had to go to the office to help Jungkook with some ad work regarding the tv special. Jungkook entered the door and gave him a small smile, “I’m sorry sir that you had to come in on your birthday but everyone chipped in for this.”

Jin saw a two tier cake that had white frosting and dark red frosted roses along the sides. He stood up and started rubbing his hands slightly, “Wow, you guys. Thank you so much.”

“Also, me and Namjoon have taken care of the ad problem but now we just have to wait for the CEO from Filmmagic or the assistant to sign it off.” 

Jin nodded his head at this and leaned against his desk with a frown, “Have you met the CEO or know his name?” 

Jungkook set the cake on the coffee table and shook his head, “I haven’t even met him, sir. The only thing I know sir is that he's constantly overseas for something.”

“Constantly overseas...interesting. Thank you Jungkook for the cake and handling the ad trouble.”

“No problem sir. Also, Mrs. L//N said she's on the way and wanted me to tell you.” 

He raised his eyebrow and nodded his head, “Thank you Jungkook. Before you go, please tell the people who are in the office today to come get some cake.” 

“Yes sir.” 

Jin watched Jungkook leave and looked down at his floor with an emotionless look. Constantly overseas...what kind of CEO doesn’t even know what his company is doing right now? A bad one. 

He sat back down at his desk and took out his phone with a smirk, Cheeky. I’ll see you soon.

I’m almost there! 

Y/N parked her car as she looked at herself in the mirror and reapplied her dark red lip stain. She took a deep breath and took the black trench coat from the passenger seat and headed towards the tall building. She took out her phone and texted Jungkook that she was in the waiting room of the building, not wanting to head straight up to Jin’s office thinking it was rude. She sat down and looked around the expensive waiting room. All around her were vases that she would never think of buying and even pieces of art that she was probably too poor to understand. 

She heard the elevator ding and looked up to see Jungkook, “Hello you!” 

Jungkook came towards her with his arms wide open as she gave him a gentle hug, “Thanks for sneaking me in.” 

“Anytime honestly. Let's go, we have cake for his birthday.” 

“Oh, that's so nice.” 

The two stood in the elevator talking about random things and when the doors opened he pointed at the office at the end, “I don’t think Jin would appreciate me walking in with you, especially on his birthday.”

She let out a chuckle and nodded her head, “Thank you, I’ll see you.”

“I’ll see you.” 

She made quick steps towards the office and knocked on the door but she heard no answer. Her eyebrows furrowed at this and before she could open the door someone grabbed her waist and kissed her cheek. She let out a squeal and a small laugh, “Let me go!” 

“Never!” 

He put her down and truly looked at her outfit which caused her to wiggle her eyebrows at him. She was wearing a dark green velvet mini dress that hugged her curves perfectly, a diamond choker, black pantyhose that had black heeled boots and a black trench coat. She spun in a small circle in front of him, “Do you like it?” 

“I love it.” 

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead as she looked up with a soft smile. He opened her office door and took a piece of cake out for her, “We should share. Want to save room for dinner.” 

The two of them ate the white cake on Jin’s couch as they let out small giggles. After eating the cake, they headed out for dinner. Y/N dropped off her car at her place as Jin followed her and they were off to The Five Roses. The whole car ride there, Jin had his hand on her thigh as she rested her hand on top of his. The dinner there was very calm and relaxing until Jin asked her about her family when there was some tension in the air.

“What do you want to know?” 

Jin grabbed the napkin and stared at her with concern, “I want to know everything about you, even the bad things.”

She nodded her head and took a sip of her wine before she continued, “My parents basically disowned me when I turned eighteen and kicked me out. They said I was an adult now and I needed to learn how to be one. My older brother, Nicholas, was the only one there for me and helped me go into ice skating competitions. The rest is history.” 

“They just kicked you out?” 

She gave him a tight smile and nodded her head, “Lovely parents you know.” 

She took another sip of her win as Jin reached across the table and grabbed her hand, “You can always start a new family you know. Your friends can be your family, it's just people that make you safe.” 

“I’m glad you said that because I see you as my family, the same goes to Doyoung.” 

Jin picked up her hand and kissed her hand with a wide smile, “I’m glad you see that love.” 

“Why are we talking about sad things, it's your birthday.” 

“I wanted to ask because I wanted you to spend Christmas with me and Doyoung...” 

His gaze softened and he thought she was going to start crying but she nodded her head, “I would love to spend Christmas with you...It will be my first Christmas spending it with someone in a long time.”

“I’m glad it can be me.” 

“It will always be you.” 

The two finished their dinners and Y/N had some macaroons make their way to him to finish off his birthday. The car ride home was filled with small laughs and jazz music playing in the background. He stopped in front of her house and gave her a frown, “I hate that you have to leave me.”

“I do too, can you pull up to that parking spot?” 

“Umm, sure.”

Jin did what she wanted and parked the car. He turned towards her with a confused look as she smirked at him, “What do you have planned?” 

“This area is pretty hard to see because of how dark it is.” 

“Okay, what does-”

He let out a small gasp when her hand started to palm him in his pants. His whole face turned red as she continued to give him that smirk that he loves, “I wanted to give you another gift, if you let me?” 

“S-sure?”

She smiled at this and unzipped his pants to see a slight bulge forming. She gently licked his head and when she heard the grunt above her she took him in her mouth, sucking firmly around the tip. His hands instantly went to her head and started to run his fingers through her hair. He groaned lowly and thighs were tensing up but he relaxed when she started to jerk her fist. Taking him deeper, she swirled her tongue as best as she could around the thick flesh. Jin’s length was impressive and she could never get used to it, she hadn't even had him inside her yet but she knew she would lose it when it happens. 

“Sh-should we go in the back seat? I don’t want your back to hurt.” 

Pulling off of him, a sting of saliva broke apart making Jin swallow in shock at the scene. She shook her head and ran her palm all the way up to his length twisting against the tip. He bucked into her hands making her chuckle lowly, “It's fine, love.” 

He opened his mouth to say something but was stopped when she spread her saliva up and down him slowly before speeding up, giving him a smirk. Jin’s mouth was open and his breathing was shallow. He ran his fingers through her hair and took one of her hair ties from the glove department and put her hair in a ponytail. She continued but stopped when she heard his voice, “Y/N, can-can you look at me?” 

She looked up at him and saw the pleasure written on his face as she continued to suck, never taking her eyes off of him. She watched his eyes close and his whole face scrunched as he came down her throat letting out a deep groan. She released him from her mouth and slowly got up, wiping her mouth gently with her fingers. She glanced at him to see his head against the headrest as he continued to breathe heavily, “Happy birthday, love.”

December twentieth and Jin was in his office waiting for the CEO from Flimmagic. This meeting was either going to end positively or the deal is completely off. He has been requesting to see the CEO for a couple of weeks now to only be met with silence. He only came in now because Jin threatened to sue him for not following through the contract they had. Jungkook stood next to him when the door opened and Jin raised his eyebrow to see him by myself. 

“Hello Mr?”

“Mr. L/N”

Jin looked at him with furrowed eyebrows as he sat in the chair in front of him. He looked at Jungkook whose eyes were also wide. Both of them could clearly see the similarities the man shared with Y/N. When the man sat in his chair he sat there without a care in the world but that didn't make angry. What made him angry was he remembered what Y/N told him about her parents. Jin had to figure out how to calm himself down or he would snap at the man before him. 

“Mr. Kim, you asked to see me, why?” 

Jin took a deep breath and stared at him, “You’ve been late on multiple deadlines and as well not communicating with me when I am the one that is providing resources and money to you.” 

“Well, things have been busy overseas. I haven’t been able to be in one area.” 

Jin fought the urge to roll his eyes and only raised his eyebrow, “You have a laptop or a phone, you could’ve easily sent an email or even a call.” 

“My assistant sent emails.” 

“It required you to see the emails, not your assistant.” 

Mr. L/N let out a small cough and moved uncomfortably in his seat making Jin get more annoyed at the lack of anything, “Me and the higher ups of Siesta have decided to end this contract because we're putting too much money in this when you haven’t done anything in return. My legal department will have a conversation with you.” 

Mr. L/N glared at Jin as he stood up suddenly but Jin seemed unfazed, “YOU CAN’T DO THAT!” 

“Jungkook, please go to the legal department as I finish this meeting.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jin watched Jungkook leave the room and Jin looked up at Mr. L/N with a stone cold look, “Sit down, Mr. L/N.”

Mr. L/N glared at him and sat down as he kept his stare on Jin, “Why would you end the contract so late?” 

“It’s actually been a conversation since June but we decided to give it a chance. We gave three chances and that was it for us. We also thought it was extremely unprofessional of you to not return Emails when I specifically said, I wanted answers from you, not your assistant. You at the end of the day have the final say, not your assistant.”

Mr. L/N crossed his arms at him and let out a deep sigh, “You're a CEO, you know how busy we get. Why must you expect me to email you every time?” 

“Don’t compare me to you. I am the CEO of Siesta and I take pride in all the works we produced or helped produce. I’m also there for every project we take on. We are not alike.” 

Mr.L/N scoffed and stood up from his chair and fixed his suit jacket, “Fine, you lost out on a great special then.” 

Jin stood up slowly and glared back at him, “You lost out on many things sir, please leave.” 

Jin watched the man leave and let out a deep breath as he sat back into his seat. He took his phone out when he felt a buzz and saw that Y/N sent him a picture of her and Doyoung putting Christmas decorations up all over his room. He smiled at this and put his phone back in his pocket. He packed everything up and headed out his office, he headed down to the legal department and waved at Jungkook.

“Can you please send all the documents to Hanna for me?”

“Yes sir!” 

He waved at everyone in the office and was off to go home. Seeing Y/N’s father really exhausted him out and he needed to head home now. When arrived home, he smiled when saw Christmas lights all over the house and even a blow up snowman in the front lawn waving at anyone who was walking past. He got out of his car and opened his door when the smell of gingerbread hit his nose. He set all his things near the door and headed to the kitchen to see Mark, Doyoung but most importantly Y/N making gingerbread cookies together.

“Oh, hello love!” 

Y/N wiped her hands off on a towel and ran towards him to give him a tight hug, “Hello my universe. I missed you so much today.” 

“Did you have a rough day?” 

Jin pulled away and looked down at her as he kissed her forehead, “Yeah but now everything is fine. I’ll help finish the cookies.” 

“Oh really? Doyoung wanted to make cookies for his friends and he wanted to make sugar cookies but I said gingerbread cookies had more personality.”

“I SAID THAT YOU LIAR!”

“Shut up Mark!” 

Jin let out a chuckle and they headed back to the kitchen as Jin could only smile at the scene before him. She rolled out some dough and handed him a cookie cutter, “It's supposed to be Santa but it doesn’t really come through.”

“I’ll love it either way.”

“Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house-”

“Jin, shut the fuck up. If you say that one more time, I'll shove my foot up your ass.” 

Jin was right, twas the night before Christmas and Doyoung was asleep in his room. Jin and Y/N wanted to put their gifts for him under the tree before Santa Claus made his trip. Jin let out a small laugh and wrapped his arm around her waist as she leaned her head on his arm. They stared at the colorful tree before them and Jin was happy that Y/N convinced him to change the decorations on the tree. Instead of whtie and gold, they have all the colors and the tree felt more homely to him. 

He leaned down and kissed the side of her head, “Shall we go to bed?”

“Jin, since it's Christmas. I have a gift for you.”

Jin looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, “Oh and what is it?” 

“Bedroom.”

Jin smirked when she brought down her shirt to show him the bright red bra and picked her up to go to bed. He kissed all over her face as she let out small laughs through the silent hall. When they arrived back into the bedroom he sent her down and she pushed him to the bed.

“I want to show you this piece, Santa baby.” 

He smirked and sat at the edge of the bed with excitement. She took off Jin’s large shirt and his eyes looked down her body to see the red lace bra that barely covered her nipples and underwear that showed everything to him. He looked back at her face and she winked at him. She slowly walked forward and straddled his waist, “Merry Christmas, my love.” 

“Santa’s going down someone's chimney.” 

“Jin, if you say anything like that again, were not fucking.” 

“That’s fair.” 

Extended ending: 

“Merry Christmas Doyoung!” 

Doyoung ran into Y/N’s arms and hugged her tightly, “Thank you, Y/N. Before we head downstairs, can I give you something?”

Y/N looked at him with a soft gaze and pushed some hair back from his face, “Of course you can, love.”

Doyoung grabbed her hand and headed to his bedroom and he told her to sit. Doyoung smiled at her and took a piece of paper from her night stand and handed it to her, “I hope you like it...” 

She folded the paper and she let out a gasp, “Doyoung, are you sure?” 

“Yes...if you want that...”

Y/N dropped the paper and brought Doyoung to a tight hug. As the paper fell to the ground the words Can I call you mom? landed on his rug and Jin watched from the doorway. What a great Christmas for once. 

[sunflowervolvimp3]

changes (best friend!harry)

Warnings: language, nsfw content, drugs (marijuana) and alcohol

Pairing: best friend!Harry x reader

Word Count: 17k (holy shit)

A/N: So this started as two requests I had in my inbox that I got way too into and then it became this. this may be the longest stand-alone fic I’ve ever written, and it, like watermelon sugar, is dedicated to touching!!!! I spent so long on this so as always. feedback is appreciated. and if you like it, please reblog it!!! reblogging is the best way to show fic writers your appreciation <3

{masterlist}

Unless she’s reminded otherwise, Y/N always thinks of herself as a teenager.

This, of course, isn’t true. She turned twenty-six a month ago, works as a media producer for an online clothing company, and lives alone in a one bedroom apartment in London.  However, unless she physically has something in front of her to remind her of her real age and the passing of time, Y/N disregards this information.

Usually, the reminder is a bill in the mail, or a phone call to remind her that she needs to book an appointment with her doctor.  Usually, the reminder is an ache in her back, her glasses prescription getting worse, or realizing that she has no idea what her teenage cousins are talking about when she sees them at Christmas.  Usually, the reminder is enough to give her pause, but not enough to throw her for a loop.

This time, however, the reminder is her childhood best friend naked in her bathroom.

Y/N and Harry had been friends since they were in primary school, after Y/N had moved to London with her mother.  Their new house just happened to be next to Harry’s, and Anne and Y/N’s mother had quickly hit it off.  Anne had been quick to volunteer her son to be Y/N’s tour guide at school, and despite not being enthusiastic about each other in the beginning, the two began to grow closer by the end of Y/N’s first week there.  Within a month, the two were inseparable, and that didn’t change as they entered their teen years, started secondary school, and Harry left London to become a member of the most famous boyband in the world.  Just typical teen things.

However, despite their distance, Y/N and Harry had remained as close as ever.  They constantly texted, called, and video chatted with each other, and Y/N even joined Harry on tour a few times (with permission from her mother).  Although both of them had been worried when Harry left, their worries and fears never came to fruition.  Just as they balanced each other in personality, they balanced each other in lifestyle—when Y/N needed a break from high school and university, Harry brought her to shows, award ceremonies, and parties, and when Harry felt like his fame was overwhelming, Y/N sent him reminders of home, hosted countless movie nights for him, and told him story after story of university life.

They were so perfectly matched that, when they were younger, many people—and tabloids—suspected that they were dating.  Even their mothers had asked them, on occasion, if one of them had any interest in the other.  However, their answers were always the same.  Y/N and Harry were best friends, and nothing more.  Sure, they were touchy, affectionate, called each other pet names, and had even kissed on a few occasions during truth or dare at parties, but none of it actually meant anything.  Y/N had watched Harry grow from a cute kid to an awkward teen to a self-assured man, and her feelings for him had never changed, and an attraction to him had never developed.

Until now.

Harry’s facing away from her, his towel in his hand as he dries his chest.  His entire body glistens with water from the shower.  Y/N can’t stop herself from letting her eyes canvas over every inch of his smooth arms, toned back, down lower to his—

Her breath catches in her throat.  Yeah. His ass is toned, too, she thinks to herself, and only has another moment to think that she shouldn’t be looking before Harry glances over his shoulder, alarmed by the small sound she had made.

“Y/N—” His eyes widen a bit, but he doesn’t make an effort to cover himself with his towel very quickly.

Her eyes automatically follow his movement for a moment before she realizes what she’s about to see. “Sorry!” Y/N turns around quickly, her face heated. “Sorry, I—the door was unlocked, I didn’t realize you were—”

“It’s fine.” Harry fixes his towel around his waist. “Don’t worry about—”

Y/N leaves the bathroom before he can finish his sentence, walking to her bedroom quickly and shutting the door tightly behind her.

Harry, it seems, is today’s reminder that she’s no longer a teenager, because his body is that of a man.

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, she tells herself, walking to her dresser to pick out a change of clothes.  Y/N’s seen him half naked countless times.  The whole world has seen Harry half naked countless times.  But she’s never seen him like that.

When did Harry grow up? Somehow, between movie nights and pool parties and going away to school, Y/N had failed to notice that her childhood best friend is no longer a child.  Harry had grown into his features, developed muscles in his arms and chest, tattooed designs all over his skin, and had become an incredibly attractive adult without her noticing.

Y/N pulls her pajamas off quickly, stopping to glance at herself in her full length mirror.  She, like Harry, is also no longer a child. She had grown into her features like he had, had gotten a few tattoos, made her share of mistakes, and became an adult the same way he did.  Neither her nor Harry’s growth had happened overnight.

As she runs her hand between her chest, down her stomach, brushing her hip, Y/N can’t help but wonder: has Harry noticed that they’ve grown up?  Does he still look at her and see the shy little girl, the developing teenager, or does he look at her and see a grown woman?  Is she the only one who’s been late to the party?

Y/N feels a flutter in the pit of her stomach.  Is it possible that, at some point, Harry looked at her and had the same realization that she had a moment ago?  That not only had she grown into a woman, but that she had grown into an attractive woman?

The sound of the bathroom door opening distracts Y/N from her thoughts, and she hurries to finish getting dressed.  Her shirt, she finds when she pulls it on, smells a bit like Harry’s cologne, as she had set it on the side of the bed that he slept on the night before.  She likes it more than she should.

After she’s dressed, she debates just staying in her bedroom to avoid facing Harry again for a bit longer. However, she can hear him working her coffee maker in the kitchen, and knows she can’t hide in her bedroom like a child.  She isn’t a child.

Neither is he, she thinks to herself as she touches her bedroom doorknob. Which is the problem.

Still, Y/N shakes herself from her thoughts and walks out to her kitchen.

Harry, now dressed in wide leg jeans and a plain white t-shirt, is leaning against her kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand.  His hair is still wet from his shower, but other than that, he looks normal. Completely normal.

And yet, Y/N can’t manage to meet his eyes.

“Good morning.” Harry’s voice is low, a bit of amusement in it as he notices her demeanor. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” Y/N hates how tight her voice is as she grabs a mug from the kitchen cabinet. “I slept fine. Did you?”

Harry nods, his eyes still tracing her every move as her own eyes avoid him. “I did.  Woke up a bit early, though.  Thought I’d shower before brunch.”

Right.  Brunch.  They’re having brunch that day with a few old friends, at a place just down the street from Y/N’s apartment, which is why Harry had stayed over the night before.  Y/N was going to have to act normal around their other friends, which means she can’t avoid looking at him for much longer.

“I’m sorry.” She says as she pours a cup of coffee. “I am, I—I should’ve knocked.  I forgot you slept over, and—”

“It’s fine, Y/N.  I should’ve locked the door.” Harry says easily, the corner of his lips tugging up. “It’s not a big deal.  Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

At that comment, Y/N pauses. “Except…I haven’t seen you naked before?”

Harry shakes his head adamantly. “No.  You have. There’s no way we’ve been friends for almost twenty years, and you haven’t.”

“Harry, believe me. I’ve seen you in a lot of weird positions over the years, but I’ve never seen you completely nude.” Y/N feels her regular ease with him begin to return, just a little bit. “I would remember that.”

“Would you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, his coffee cup half raised to his lips.

The bit of ease that returned disappears immediately. “I—” Y/N’s cheeks heat up again. “Shut up, you know what I meant.”

Harry tries to hide his laugh behind his coffee, but fails. “I’m just teasing you, love.  It’s fine, promise.  I don’t mind that you saw.  I’m very comfortable in my body.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Too comfortable, I think.”

“Is there such a thing as being too comfortable in your body?” Harry asks in a teasing voice, crossing his arms.

“When your best friend walks in on you naked and you don’t bother to cover yourself?” Despite the blush on her cheeks, Y/N manages to laugh. “Yes.  There is.”

“I don’t know…” Harry finishes his coffee and sets the mug in the kitchen sink. “It sounds like there’s issues with your comfort, not mine.”

Before Y/N can form a reply, Harry shoots her a smirk and walks out of the kitchen.

For the rest of the day, Y/N does her best not to think about that morning’s awkward encounter. Brunch with her friends is normal, and she just lets herself enjoy having Harry home, and catching up with everyone.  The afternoon also passes in an unremarkable way, as does that night.  Over the next few days, however, things begin to change.

Within two weeks, the atmosphere of the country has shifted.  There’s a virus that’s highly contagious and can be fatal, Y/N’s work tells her to work from home, and soon the entire country is being told to stay home to avoid catching Coronavirus.

And then Harry texts her two days later, without any warning or leeway for her to disagree.

I’m on the last flight back to London.  Pack a bag and bring some groceries to my place, so we can isolate together.  You’ll go crazy alone in your flat.

Y/N tries to reply that it’s not necessary, but her message doesn’t go through.  Harry’s already on the plane.  So she does what he says, and packs a bag of clothes, her work bag, some alcohol, and her favourite snacks, and drives over to his house.

Letting herself in with her key, Y/N begins to bring the house back to life.  She lights Harry’s candles and orders some dinner, as well as groceries for the next couple weeks.  She makes sure she gets his favourite foods, and the weird snacks that only he likes.  She calls her mum to tell her she’ll be with Harry, and Anne, to tell her the same thing. And then she waits.

When Harry finally walks through the front door, he looks more like the tired seventeen year old on his first tour than the grown man she had seen a few weeks ago.  The bags under his eyes are evidence of his jetlag and stress, his jacket is rumpled from the plane, his hair just as messy, and he looks like he could collapse the second the door closes behind him.

“H.” Y/N walks towards him and gives him a tight hug.  One hand goes to his back and the other to his hair, playing with it as she always does. “Are you alright?”

“Long flight.” Harry mutters in reply, eyes closed as he holds her tight. “Everyone’s going insane in the States.  I’m lucky I got a flight back to London.”

“Why did you?” Y/N pulls back, brushing his messy hair from his eyes. “You could’ve stayed in LA.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry shrugs a bit. “I knew you’d be alone.  And I wanted to be with you.”

Y/N can’t help the soft smile that creeps onto her face. “C’mon.  I have dinner ready.”

Harry barely makes it through dinner with his eyes open, but still insists on watching a movie after. Y/N tries to tell him that he should just go to sleep, but he won’t hear it.

“We can watch it in my bed, like we used to when we were little.” Harry gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

Y/N shoves his shoulder. “You’re twenty-six.  Stop pouting to get what you want.”

“I’ll stop pouting when it stops working.”

Y/N laughs in spite of herself. “Fine, but shower first.  You smell like a plane.”

Of course, as predicted, Harry starts to drift to sleep within the first half hour of the movie. He slips down in the bed more and more, until his head is in Y/N’s lap completely.  Out of habit, Y/N begins to play with his damp curls, running her fingers through them at a steady pace as she watches the movie.

Harry’s breathing begins to even out as she does, and Y/N begins to pay more attention to him than the TV.  When they spend the night with each other, Y/N always falls asleep first.  It’s rare she gets to see him completely relaxed.

As much as she loves his green eyes, his eyelashes may be a close second.  They’re so long and dark that they almost make Y/N jealous.  And his cheeks…she brings one hand up to gently touch them.  They’re stubbled from his long day of travel, but the skin underneath feels soft. Despite having lost his baby fat years ago, there’s still a layer of tenderness in his body.

Y/N is so distracted by him that she doesn’t realize that she’s stopped playing with his hair, not until Harry speaks up.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is groggy with exhaustion, lower, with a thicker accent.  His words slur together as well

“Hm?” Y/N hums in her throat in response. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Not really.” Harry’s eyes stay closed as he shifts his position a bit. “Will you play with my hair a bit longer?  Feels nice.”

The movie credits roll in the background as Y/N does what he says.  Harry sighs contently, relaxing back into her again.

Y/N turns the TV off, so the only light in the room comes from the moon through the open curtains. It shines over half of Harry’s face, catching the ends of his eyelashes.  Somehow, the moonlight makes his cheeks and lips even more pink.  

“You’re really pretty, y’know that?” Y/N says it absentmindedly, her fingers still combing through Harry’s curls.

“Thanks.” He has just enough energy to mumble a response. “’M, not as pretty as you, though.”

Y/N’s stomach flutters when he says it, so quiet that she’s not even certain she heard him correctly. “Liar.”

“’S true.” Harry’s reply is even less audible than before. “So pretty.”

If Harry was awake and more present in the conversation, Y/N might tease him.  She might try to make him blush, or roll his eyes, or laugh. Maybe, just maybe, she’d even ask him to elaborate, just enough that she could figure out what the fluttering in her stomach means.

But Harry is hardly awake right now.  And it wouldn’t be fair.

“Go to sleep, H,” is all Y/N says, shifting to lay down a bit more without pausing the movement of her fingers.

…

It takes Harry a few days to readjust to London time.  While Y/N spends her weekdays working from the kitchen table, Harry naps and fiddles with his guitar and journal.  While she can tell he’s working on something, Y/N can also tell that he’s not making much process.

A week after coming back from LA, Harry half stomps into the kitchen during the afternoon, frustration clear on his face as he opens the fridge and grabs an apple.  He bites into it angrily and leans against the counter, the irritation still on his face.

Y/N glances at him from behind her laptop. “Everything alright?”

Harry gives half a shrug. “Trying to write.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Fucking sucks.” Harry takes another bite of the apple. “I thought I’d feel more inspired, being at home and not having deadlines, but I can’t get anything out.  Not anything good, anyways.”

“I know the feeling.” Y/N sighs as she closes her laptop. “There’s been a huge surge in online orders, and my boss wants me to create more promo material, but it’s hard to focus on anything right now.”

Harry nods and glances out the window. “Doesn’t help that it’s a beautiful day, but we can’t go out.”

“We can go out.  We just can’t leave the property.” Y/N replies. “You have a giant backyard.  Why don’t you use it?”

“Yeah.  Maybe I’ll go for a swim.” Harry takes another bite of his apple. “You want to come?”

Y/N laughs a bit. “Unlike you, H, I have a real nine to five job.  I’m on the clock for another two hours.”

“After, then.” Harry tosses his apple core in the compost and gives her a grin. “I hope you packed that yellow bikini.”

Y/N crumples a piece of scrap paper in her hand and throws it at him. “Piss off.”

Y/N did, in fact, pack her yellow bikini.  However, when she’s changing from her clothes into a swimsuit, she chooses her blue bikini instead, just to have a bit of agency.  Every instinct in her is telling her to wear what Harry said to, and it’s a little concerning.  She’s never cared about dressing for him before, and she isn’t prepared to start.

Despite the different colour, Harry still grins from the edge of the pool when he sees her walk out. “Look at you.  Should’ve put you in the Watermelon Sugar music video.”

“Shut up.” Y/N sits on the edge of the pool, dangling her lets in the water.  Harry rests his head on his arms, his cheeky grin still on his face as he looks up at her.

“I’m serious.” He says innocently. “It was a fun day.  You really would’ve liked it.”

“Of course you thought it was fun; you had a bunch of beautiful girls fawning over you and feeding you fruit.” Y/N rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses. “You’re such a narcissist.”

“All musicians are narcissists, love.  At least, the best ones are.” Harry’s grin grows as he pushes away from the ledge. “Are you going to just sit there and look pretty, or are you actually going to swim?”

“I’m going to tan.” Y/N leans her head back, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun.

Harry shakes his head. “No, sorry.  The pool is for swimming only.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

In hindsight, Y/N should’ve known what Harry was about to do.  She’s been friends with him long enough that she knows how his brain works. However, Y/N is enjoying the sun so much that she lets her guard down for one moment, and that one moment is all Harry needs.

She feels his hands grip her legs, and before she can stop him, he pulls her into the pool.  Her entire body submerges, and when she finally rises, gasping for air, the only thing she can hear is Harry’s snickering.

“You’re such an ass!” Y/N hits his shoulder hard, not caring about leaving a mark on him. “That’s not funny!”

“The pool is for swimming only.  I told you.” Harry can’t stop laughing long enough to make it through his sentence clearly. “Them’s the rules.”

“Them’s the rules.” Y/N repeats in a mocking voice, hitting him one more time. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe, but you’re stuck with me.” Harry runs a hand through his wet hair. “At least until quarantine is done.”

“I should’ve stayed alone in my apartment.” Y/N mutters, tossing her wet sunglasses on the pool ledge. “Would’ve been so much more peaceful.”

“And boring.” Harry points out. “And you wouldn’t get to take relaxing swims like this!”

“Right.  Relaxing.” Y/N splashes him playfully. “Jerk.”

Harry just grins at you.

…

“Want one?”

Y/N glances at Harry as he packs loose marijuana into a wrapper, concentration clear on his face as he rolls it.

“You learn how to roll those in LA?” Y/N asks, taking a sip of her wine.

Harry chuckles lightly, his skin illuminated by the fire burning in front of them and the moon above them. “Yeah.  I’m not very good, though.  Usually I have somebody else to roll them for me.”

“So high maintenance.”

Another low laugh rolls out of Harry’s mouth. “Ha.  High maintenance.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but an endearing smile is on her face. “It’s still illegal in the U.K., you know.”

“I doubt the police are going to break social distancing rules to arrest me for it.” Harry’s tongue pokes out of his mouth as he tries his best to roll the joint tightly.

Y/N watches as Harry brings the wrapper to his mouth, licking it lightly.  To her dismay, her attraction to Harry had yet to fade, and spending every moment of the day together wasn’t helping.

“I’m not an eighteen year old girl on your tour bus anymore, Harry.” Y/N raises her wine glass. “I drink red wine now.  I’m sophisticated.”

Harry snorts, his eyes flickering to her before looking back down at the joint. “Sophisticated, right. Like you didn’t do body shots off the bartender at your birthday party this year.”

Y/N’s cheeks burn. “Birthdays don’t count.”

“Neither did tour buses, and neither does my backyard in the middle of a pandemic.” Harry seals the joint as best he can. “You may have a fancy job now, but you’re still my Y/N.”

His Y/N.  That phrase ignites the now familiar flutter in her stomach and, over the last few days, her core.  Something about Harry identifying her as his drives Y/N insane, even if it’s nothing new.

“And what exactly does your Y/N do?” She manages to say after a moment.

“She doesn’t take shit from anyone.  She gets drunk fast and high faster.  She’s always down for a laugh.  And, although she won’t admit it, she has a tendency to make bad decisions that she tries to suppress, but can’t always manage to do so.” Harry sparks his lighter and sticks the joint between his lips, lighting it and puffing it quickly.

“Then you should know that your Y/N can’t have a joint of her own.” Y/N steals the joint from Harry’s lips, taking a few puffs of her own from it before handing it back.

The smoke curls in her lungs, forcing a few coughs from her.

“Alright?” Harry asks, concern in his eyes.

Y/N nods, her hand pressed to her chest like she can stop the burn. “Yeah.  Just haven’t done that in a while.”

“You always cough so much. It would be cute if it wasn’t so bloody concerning.” Harry says casually, lifting the joint to his lips and inhaling.

Y/N watches as he exhales smoke slowly.  She wonders if she looks as attractive as he does when she blows out smoke.

Harry grins at her with just the corner of his mouth, like there’s a secret tugging at the edge of his lips.

Y/N really doubts it.

“Here.” Harry places the joint between her lips. “Inhale slowly.”

Y/N does as he says, doing her best to keep from coughing until the joint and his hand is away from her face.  Her eyes burn a bit, both from the smoke and the oncoming high that’s starting to twist through her body.

“That’s a good girl.” Harry praises her before leaning back, placing the joint back between his own lips. “You’ve gotten better at that.  Thought you were going to pass out the first time we smoked, remember?”

“I remember I almost did.” Y/N giggles to herself as she settles down into the couch more. “I coughed so much that I thought I was going to die on that tour bus.”

“Niall was certain you had.” Harry laughs too, and Y/N known they’re both playing back the same memory. “Wasn’t quite sure how we were going to explain that one to Paul.  Neither was I, honestly.”

“You don’t give me enough credit.” Despite the feeling coming over her, YN still takes another sip of her wine. “I was fine.”

Harry nods as he finishes the joint, setting the butt down into his ash tray. “Still…we had some fun nights on the bus when you were there.”

“That was a fun summer.” Y/N agrees, her eyes fixed on the fire before them. “Lots of good memories.”

As Y/N watches the fire, Harry watches her.  He lets another moment or two pass before speaking again.

“When you were on tour with us that summer…” He rubs his lips absentmindedly. “You and Niall.  Did you two ever…?”

“What?  Fuck?” The weed and the alcohol take away the careful tone of Y/N’s regular speech, leaving honesty and bluntness behind.

Harry laughs once. “I was going to say date, but yeah.  I guess so.”

“We didn’t date. We fooled around a few times.” Y/N shrugs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He was fun.  But we both knew it wasn’t anything serious, just something to do while I was on tour with you.”

Harry nods a bit, reaching for his own drink and taking a sip.  Y/N watches the movement with heavy lidded eyes.  His arm muscles flex underneath his tattooed skin when he moves, and the way his fingers wrap around his glass is fascinating to her.

“I figured he would have told you.” Y/N pulls her sweater around her tighter.  Now that the sun has set completely, a chill has appeared. “You guys always talked about girls together.”

“No, he didn’t tell me. And I didn’t ask.” Harry keeps his glass in his hand, looking down at it with an unreadable expression. “I thought you might tell me, but you didn’t, either.”

The substances in Y/N’s system are clouding her mind, but she does her best to focus on Harry’s words. As a way to ground herself, she pulls her sweater away from her body, hoping that the cold air will help.

“I’m sorry.” She says slowly, like it takes all her effort to get the words out. “I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” Confusion fogs Y/N’s mind. “Then…why is it bothering you?”

“It’s not bothering me.” Harry denies, finishing off his drink. “I was just wondering why.  You usually tell me everything.  You always have.”

Y/N bites her lip. “I don’t tell you about every person I sleep with.”

Harry hums low in the back of his throat, but offers no other response.

After a few minutes, Y/N stands up. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Twisting his empty glass around in his hands, Harry nods. “Alright.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“You know, you have a guest room.” Y/N pauses, fiddling with the bottom of her sweater.  Her skin feels unsettled, and the fabric against it isn’t helping. “I should probably start using it.  Social distancing, and all that.”

Harry looks up at her, a stubborn look reflecting in his eyes. “No.  I sleep better with you beside me.”

When Harry finally comes up to bed an hour later, Y/N is still awake, eyes closed, with her back away from the door and head toward the wall.  She doesn’t turn over when she hears the door creak open, and instead just listens to the rustling sounds of Harry changing, going to the bathroom, washing his hands, and returning to the bedroom.

Y/N feels his weight on the bed, but doesn’t hear him slide in next to her.  Instead, she does her best to stay completely relaxed when she feels his fingers brush against her hairline, pushing back a few loose strands.

Staying completely relaxed, it turns out, is easier thought than done.  The moment Harry touches her, Y/N feels the nerves in her face burst to life. It’s like electricity, like nothing she’s ever felt before from any previous touches from Harry.  Behind her closed eyes, Y/N feels her head spinning, but she’s certain it must be the weed and the alcohol in her system.

Finally, the sheets are pulled back, and Harry gets under the covers.  He pulls Y/N back against him, and Y/N can feel the hot skin of his chest pressed against her shoulders.  Harry takes a moment to adjust before sighing, almost in content, and then he presses a gentle kiss to the back of her shoulder.

The tender action leaves Y/N speechless.  The action itself isn’t new; they had always been very physically affectionate with each other.  But there’s something about the moment that Y/N can’t quite place a finger on. Perhaps she would be able to if she was sober, or less tired, but with her brain in its current state, the words she needs are lost, and she’s certain she won’t remember the feeling in the morning.

Harry inhales deeply, his nose buried in her hair, and sighs again.  Y/N can feel him relaxing back against her, but his arms stay wrapped around her tightly.  It’s a comforting embrace, and makes it easy for Y/N’s mind to finally quiet and drift off.

…

“You’re still working?”

Y/N looks up from her laptop to see Harry standing above her, sweaty from his workout.  His hair is tied up in a little ponytail on top of his head, and he has a towel wrapped around his shoulders that he uses to wipe sweat from his face.  His body is literally glistening in the sunlight, and Y/N suddenly finds it very hard to focus on her work.

“I am.” She says finally, closing the lid of her laptop and stretching out on the beach chair. “Or I was. I’m done for today.”

“Good.” Harry sits down on the chair next to her. “I’m going to have a shower, but I was thinking we should try baking something later.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I want cupcakes, and homemade are way better than store bought.” Harry says easily, stealing Y/N’s water and taking a gulp from it.

Y/N watches his throat move as he swallows the water, how his Adam’s apple bobs, how he licks his lips when he finally pulls the glass away from his mouth.

Y/N’s own mouth suddenly feels very dry.

“Alright, yeah.” Y/N nods weakly. “We can bake something later.  It’ll be fun.”

…

“It’ll be fun.” Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. “God, I can’t believe I said that.”

“It was fun!” Harry argues, holding up a red velvet cupcake. “And we did it!”

“And we made a mess.” Y/N gestures to the kitchen around them, which looks like a warzone.  Flour, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder cover every counter surface.  There are broken eggshells on the counter, splatters of batter everywhere, and both Y/N and Harry have dyed red hands from food colouring.

“It could be worse.” Harry shrugs, clearly untroubled. “C’mon.  Try a cupcake.”

Y/N reaches for one, but Harry simply lifts the one in his hand to her mouth.  She locks eyes with him as she takes a bite, the icing smearing across her top lip.

Y/N chews slowly and swallows hard. “Yeah.  They’re good.”

Harry extends a hand, and his finger runs along her lip, collecting the icing.  He pops it into his mouth, sucking for a moment before humming in agreement. “Yeah.  Sweet.”

The cupcakes, it turns out, pair well with watermelon cocktails, and soon Y/N and Harry are sitting on the couch, takeout and cupcakes in front of them and drinks in their hands as they giggle and talk.  They’re intoxicated, but not just from the alcohol in the strong drinks that Harry makes.

“Honestly, working from home isn’t ideal, but it’s not that bad.” Y/N pops a bite of food into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Definitely not the worst part of quarantine.”

“Yeah?” Harry leans back on the couch. “What’s the worst part?”

Y/N shrugs. “It sucks being away from people, cooped up inside.”

Harry nods, but his face looks wistful. “I miss sex.”

Y/N laughs, but she nods in agreement as well. “Fuck, I know.  I miss sex so much.”

“It’s nice, you know? A good way to burn some energy…always sleep so well after��” Harry sighs, taking a sip of his drink between his phrases. “I feel like I’m back on a tour bus again, with no one around but my hand.”

A giggle escapes Y/N’s mouth. “How tragic.” She also takes a sip of her drink, and tries to stop herself from making a face.  Harry really does make them strong. “I just miss touching.  I haven’t been this touch starved since I was seventeen.”

Harry makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “We touch.”

“That’s different.” Y/N finishes her drink. “That’s friendly touching.  It’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” Harry challenges her, a glint in his eyes that Y/N’s come to recognize as a sign of trouble.

She refuses to take the bait. “You know what I meant.”

“I don’t.” Harry says it innocently, and he reaches forward to take her glass from her. “How about I get us some refills while you think of how to say it?”

Y/N lets him take the glass (she loves his drinks, despite how strong they are), but shakes her head. “Stop being an ass.  You know exactly what I meant.”

A low laugh rolls out of Harry as he walks to the built-in bar he has in the lounge.  He begins to recreate the drinks, muddling this, adding a splash of that.  If Harry wasn’t already a rock star, she’d suggest he become a mixologist.

“Maybe I do know what you meant.” Harry shakes the cocktail shaker with ease before straining the liquid out over their glasses, which he’s filled with fresh ice. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Y/N runs a hand through her hair.  She feels warm from the alcohol, and the lit candles around them aren’t helping.  The food and cupcakes sit on the table, all but forgotten in their new conversation. “Say what?”

Harry’s lips pull up in a smirk, but his eyes show something else.  He walks back over and hands her the drink before taking a seat next to her again. “The kind of touching you miss.”

Their fingers touch as Y/N takes the glass from him, and suddenly the warmth of the room feels ten times hotter. “You want me to say it?”

Harry lifts his glass to his lips, but keeps his eyes on her. “I do.”

“I…” Y/N takes a sip of the drink (which is stronger than the one before) and then presses the cold glass to her cheek. “I miss touching.  Intimate touching.  And…being touched intimately.”  

Harry inhales deeply, stretching out his shoulders before responding. “Yeah.  I miss that too.  Holding hands, touching someone’s stomach, chest, legs…having them play with my hair…”

“I play with your hair.” Y/N says defensively, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

Harry laughs once. “Right, but like you said…that’s different.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Right.”

Harry takes a long sip from his drink. “’S still nice, though.” Harry adds after a moment, licking his lips. “I love when you play with my hair.  You know that.”

Nodding softly, Y/N begins to trail a finger over the rim of her glass.  Whenever she begins to get tipsy, she begins to fidget more, and feel freer in her actions.  And when Y/N glances back at Harry, she can tell he recognizes the sign as well.

“What about you?” He asks, bringing her back from her thoughts. “What do you miss having people do?”

Y/N drinks again, pulling her knees to her chest as she leans against the couch’s armrest. “I miss…having my hair played with, too.  That’s always nice.  I miss having my fingers played with…neck kisses…I like when people, like, rub my arms or thighs, just absentmindedly…” She leans her head against her arm. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” Harry rubs his nose lightly, and Y/N can tell he’s feeling the alcohol, too. “What’s my turn?”

“Tell me what else you like.” Y/N smiles softly, a small laugh just barely bubbling out from her. “We’ve never actually talked about it, H.  Isn’t that strange?”

Harry turns to face her more, pausing to think for a moment. “I suppose we’ve never been specific before, yeah.” He taps his thumb against his H ring. “I like being in control, usually. Telling them what to do, where to touch me…” His eyes get a faraway look in them. “But sometimes it’s nice to give up control.  Have someone else…”

“Decide.” Y/N finishes his sentence for him when he trails off. “Yeah.  I’m more like that, I think.  I usually let someone else decide.  But I like the in-between, too.  Like…both exploring each other.”

“What do you mean?” Harry cocks his head to the side curiously.

Y/N shrugs loosely, her finger still tracing her glass. “’S hard to explain.”

Harry’s voice is low when he replies, almost like he’s somewhere else. “Try.”

“Well…” Y/N takes a drink before setting her glass down. “It’s like…do you remember your first time?”

Harry blinks, surprised at the question, but nods. “Yeah.  I do.”

“And remember how nervous you were?”

“Yeah.”

“And like…” Y/N plays with her fingers as she ponders her next words. “You were nervous, yeah, but there was also this excitement in you.  Kind of like…a breathlessness.  And you looked at the other person and knew they…”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment. “Felt the same.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tucks her hair behind her ears. “And just, like, being comfortable with them, and knowing you could both explore, and ask questions, and you were both together…” Y/N feels heat rise to her cheeks as she trails off. “I don’t know.  I feel like that’s rare, but I—it’s nice.  I like it.”

“Yeah.” Harry rubs his thumb over his lip as he shifts his position on the couch. “It’s nice, yeah. Rare, usually.  But nice.”

“I think it’s rare, because, like—” The alcohol makes it harder for Y/N to gather her thoughts, but also harder to sensor them. “I don’t know, I feel like when I was younger, and hadn’t had sex yet, I took more time with, like, finding the right person? Like I wanted it to be with someone who loved me for the first time, and someone I was comfortable with, and it was. And then after, the love part didn’t matter so much for me.” Y/N glances at Harry, who seems to be hanging on her every word. “Which, like, was fine.  What mattered to me the most was that whoever I had sex with respected me. And they did, so that was…good. But it’s different.” Y/N rubs her arms. “I don’t know if that makes sense…”

“It does.” Harry assures her, placing a light hand on her knee.  He begins to rub small circles. “Keep going.”

“I just think that, like, that in-between, breathless, exploring each other kind of thing…the comfort…that’s rare because it only really happens with someone you love.” Y/N murmurs. “At least, that’s how it is for me.  And I haven’t really been in love much in my life.”

“I’ve been in love probably too much.” Harry admits, his hand still on Y/N’s knee. “Too much to be good for me.”

Y/N shakes her head adamantly. “No, H.  That’s good. That’s…brave.  You’re not afraid of how you feel.  Most people are.”

“Maybe.” Harry finishes his drink again with one long gulp.  

Y/N watches as he does, seeing a little drip of liquid slip from the corner of his mouth.  She can’t stop herself from leaning forward and wiping it away with her thumb, feeling the stubble of Harry’s chin scratch against her.

Harry watches her with hooded eyes as she leans back to her previous position.  His hand slips a bit higher, from her knee to her lower thigh, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Who have you been in love with?” He asks.  His words are slurred a bit, and his accent seems thicker.

“My first boyfriend, Parker. You remember him.” Y/N sighs, closing her eyes as she herself remembers. “And…Christian, from university.  We were together for two years.  That’s it, I think.”

Despite the alcohol, Harry’s face still shows some surprise. “Really?  No one else?  No one since Christian?”

Y/N shrugs. “I’ve dated, yeah, and had relationships, but…I don’t know.  I didn’t love any of them.  I was…infatuated.  But I never…it was intense, but like—intense like a spark.  Nothing prolonged.”

Harry hums in response. “Thought you were going to say Niall for a moment.  He was pretty torn up when you went back to school after that summer.”

Y/N’s face mimics Harry’s surprise from a moment ago. “Was he?”

“Yeah.  Moped around a bit, spent time by himself, on his phone every two minutes…” Harry’s expression shows the difficulty it’s taking him to think back eight years while drunk. “I knew it was because you left.  Thought you two had an…agreement, or something.”

“An agreement?” A giggle escapes Y/N. “This isn’t a Jane Austen book, Harry.  We didn’t have an agreement.” Once she gets her laughter out, she sighs. “He was that upset?”

“Yeah.” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “So I thought…he must be in love with you.  And you were…”

“No, I wasn’t.” Y/N says softly. “He was so upset that you thought he was in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N bites her lip. “Was he more upset than you?”

Harry takes a moment to reply, looking at her with a serious expression.  His lips are so red, and his eyes are so green, and both of them are so drunk that neither of them can sense the meaning behind what they’re saying.

“No.” Harry finally responds. “He wasn’t.”

…

“Good morning.”

“Shhh.” Y/N covers her eyes with her arm. “Don’t yell in my ear.”

“I whispered.” Harry counters, but his voice is a bit quieter this time. “Do you have a headache?”

“I didn’t know something flavoured with watermelon could make me feel so shitty.” Y/N groans a bit, shifting on the bed without opening her eyes. “What did you do to me?”

When Harry laughs, it’s not audible, but Y/N can feel it through his chest pressed against her side.

“How are you completely fine right now?” She asks, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m used to it.  I’ve always been way better with hangovers than you.” Harry presses a small kiss to her shoulder before getting up. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

“Normally amazing, but I can’t eat right now.” Y/N mutters. “How about coffee in bed?”

“Sure.” Harry smiles a bit. “You look cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

Harry returns ten minutes later with a tray of coffee, toast, and eggs, of which he manages to coax Y/N to take a few bites.  She doesn’t really want it, but she knows it’s easier to do as he says instead of arguing.

“How about we have a movie day today?” Harry suggests after breakfast. “In bed, since it seems like you won’t be moving anytime soon.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N glares at him from the top of her coffee cup.

Harry raises his hands in defense. “Hey, I didn’t make you drink.  You chose to.”

“I know, but it’s easier to blame you.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Is that why you’ve been doing it for twenty years?”

“Exactly.”

Harry carefully lifts the empty tray to the ground before holding up the remote. “You can pick the movies.”

Y/N bites her lip. “If we watch Titanic, will you make fun of me when I cry?”

“Of course not.  I’ll even cry with you out of solidarity.”

“Alright.” Y/N settles back into the blankets. “Put it on, then.”

It’s easy for them to be like this, Y/N thinks, as Harry pulls her into his arms when the movie starts. It’s always been so natural for them to be physical and affectionate with each other.  They’ve never acted any other way.

Except this doesn’t feel like any other way.

Yes, Y/N has watched countless movies while cuddling in bed with Harry.  But has he ever whispered in her ear like that before?  Has he ever rubbed her sides so carefully before? Has he ever let his lips rest on the bare skin of her shoulder, almost at the base of her neck?

Y/N can’t recall. However, she’s certain that if he had, it hasn’t felt so electric.

“Look at them.  Look at how Jack watches her.” Harry murmurs his words directly in Y/N’s ear as they watch Jack draw Rose.  Y/N can feel his lips brushing against her, and the heat of his breath and tone of his voice makes her shiver.

“She’s very pretty.” Y/N nods, shifting in Harry’s arms.  She likes how warm he feels.

“I suppose, but that’s not what I meant.” Harry traces shapes on her arm. “I meant look at how he looks at her.  Do you think they have the kind of love you talked about last night?”

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, surprised he remembers their conversation. “I think so.  Do you?”

“Yeah.” Harry says in a low voice.  He says no more, so Y/N turns back to face the television.

They continue to watch in silence, gripping each other a bit tighter as the Titanic begins to sink. As they watch a mother reading to her two young children in bed, Y/N begins to lose her composure, like always. Tears well in her eyes, and she lets out a quiet hitched breath, a single sniffle.

“It’s alright, love.” Harry’s hands move to her stomach, holding her tighter to comfort her. “Don’t cry.”

Y/N can hear the tears in his voice, just as they’re in her own. “Can’t help it.  This part and the band and the old couple in bed—they always get me.”

“I know.” Harry rubs his thumb along your side.

Y/N reaches behind her without turning around, threading her fingers through Harry’s messy curls.  She plays with them absentmindedly as she watches, and tries to ignore how right it feels to be close to him like this.  She wonders if he notices it, too.

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

…

The day they hit the one month mark of quarantine, Harry sits across from Y/N at breakfast with a determined look on his face.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Y/N glances up at him, her attention barely shifting from her book. “A proposition?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of proposition?” Y/N tilts her head to the side.  What she first thought was just determination on Harry’s face, she realizes, is actually determination and mischief, and she knows it won’t end well.

“I haven’t had a tattoo in a while.” Harry steals a strawberry from Y/N’s plate. “And I have a machine here, so I was thinking you could give me one.”

Y/N stares at Harry incredulously as he pops the strawberry in his mouth. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably.”

“I’m a terrible artist, Harry.  You know that.” Y/N shakes her head. “And even if I wasn’t, I have no idea how to tattoo someone!”

“You can watch a YouTube tutorial, or read a WikiHow.” Harry sighs loudly. “I’m so bored in isolation!”

“What do you even want tattooed?” Y/N eyes the intricate tattoos on his arms suspiciously. “I doubt I could do something like your ship.”

“Something simple.” He shrugs. “Probably lettering.”

“Probably?” Y/N says suspiciously.

“That’s why I want you to do it.  I want it in your handwriting.”

Harry’s tone is easy, but it makes her breathing shallow.

“You do?”

“Yeah.  I was thinking of something to remind me of this time, because of how weird it is.”

Despite her increased heartbeat, Y/N laughs. “What, do you want me to tattoo COVID-19 on you?”

“No.  Be a little more creative than that.” Harry scoffs.

“Why do I have to be creative?”

“Because I want you to decide what I get.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”

“I am!  Why is that so hard to believe?” Harry asks. “I trust you. And you’re good with words.”

“No.  Absolutely not.”

…

“Make sure my drink has two shots in it.” Y/N calls to Harry as she looks over the tattoo supplies on the living room table.

Harry laughs. “I’m not sure I want my tattoo artist to be drunk.”

“The only way I’ll even be your tattoo artist is if I’m drunk.” She counters. “I still think this is an awful idea.”

Harry hands Y/N a tall glass with a light pink liquid in it. “Drink this, and you’ll change your mind.”

Y/N takes the glass and takes a large gulp, not focusing on the taste of the mixers, but the liquid courage behind them.

Harry grins, lifting his own glass. “Cheers.”

“Shut up and sit down.” Y/N mutters.  She ties her hair back before grabbing the disinfectant wipes. “Where do you want this?”

“My upper inner arm. I already shaved it for you.” Harry smirks as he points to the area, which is easily exposed in his loose tank top.

“And you’re sure I can write it with pen?” Y/N asks nervously as she disinfects the area.

“Mhmm.” Harry leans back comfortably in his chair. “What did you decide on?”

“It’s a secret.” Y/N uncaps the pen, getting closer to him.

“So I can’t know until after it’s on me permanently?”

“Is that a problem?” Y/N asks innocently. “I thought you trusted me?”

Harry chuckles. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Also that I’m good with words.” Y/N makes sure Harry’s head is turned away before she carefully writes the phrase she chose.  Then she snaps on gloves and starts the machine like she watched in videos early that day.

“You’re fine, love.” Harry assures her, seeing the nervous look on her face. “It’s a small tattoo. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Quiet.” Y/N mutters. “I need to focus.”

True to Harry’s word, the small tattoo only takes a few minutes to finish.  When it’s done, Y/N gives it one final wipe before setting the machine down and taking off her gloves.

“Alright.” She picks up her glass and drains it completely. “You can look.”

Harry peers at his arm, curiosity clear on his face.  There, in Y/N’s loopy handwriting is the phrase “touch me.”

“It looks so fucking good, Y/N.” Harry grins at her. “You did amazing!”

“I didn’t fuck it up?” She asks, chewing on her lip anxiously. “Is it alright?”

“You did a lovely job.” Harry smiles. “Wrap it for me?”

Y/N does as he asks, carefully wrapping the fresh tattoo in plastic wrap and taping it to his arm. “I think I’ll accept my tip in the form of another drink.”

Harry snickers. “Coming right up.”

Two drinks later, they’re both back in the honest and loose headspace that they’ve grown familiar with. It’s not enough that they’re unaware of their actions, but both Y/N and Harry know that their lips are looser because of the liquor in their systems.

They’ve migrated to the bedroom to get comfier, but took a few items from the bar with them.  It’s with these items that Harry tops up Y/N’s glass again as he speaks.

“So tell me…” He sets the cocktail shaker on his bedside table. “Why ‘touch me’?”

“You said you wanted something to remind you of isolation.” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “And that’s what we both miss the most, right?  Being touched?”

Harry nods slowly, his rings clinking against his glass. “Yeah.  I’m probably going to go straight to the bars after this is all done.  Find someone there.”

He laughs lightly, showing that what he says it half a joke, but Y/N sighs wistfully and shakes her head in disagreement. “I won’t.”

“You won’t?” Harry is surprised, his laughter fading. “Why not?”

Her shrug almost causes her to spill her drink on the bed. “I don’t know.” Y/N sighs again. “I don’t really—I’m not a hookup fan.  Not right now, at least.  It’s not what I…want.”

“What do you want, then?” Harry finishes his drink, but sets the glass down instead of refilling it. “If not sex?”

“I want sex.” Y/N says defensively. “But I want—I don’t want it to be someone random.  I want sex, but I want to be…intimate.  Like, I want to know that person cares about me, and I care about them.”

Harry licks the last of his drink from his lips. “Like that breathless feeling?”

“No.  It would be nice, but no.  That takes time.” Y/N brushes her hair behind her ear. “Just…someone who cares.  I don’t want a quick fuck, I just—”

“You want to be touched. Intimately touched.” Harry takes the empty glass from Y/N’s hand and sets it down on the table next to the bed.

Y/N nods gently, her limbs feeling loose. “Yeah.  Intimately touched.”

“You know, I could…” Harry trails off, pursing his lips. “We could…do that.”

The alcohol makes Y/N slow to recognize the meaning of his words. “What?”

“I’ve noticed you…the way you look at me, it’s…different than it was.” Harry says carefully, his eyes gauging her reaction. “For the last few weeks.  And I—I know that I’m…attracted to you, too.”

“We…” Y/N struggles to think of what to say as she finally registers what’s happening. “We’re friends.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see you as attractive.” Harry looks down at his hands. “Don’t you…?  I mean…”

“I—yeah.  I think you’re—” Y/N laughs a bit nervously. “You’re attractive, H, you know that.  We’ve just never…discussed it.”

“I’m not saying we have to fuck, or—we don’t have to do anything.” Harry straightens his shoulders and looks you in the eye. “Just—when we touch, it’s mild.  If you want to be touched intimately, we could…”

“Like, a hand job?” Y/N says slowly, her words blunt with confusion.

Harry goes a bit red, but he shakes his head quickly. “No, Christ, that’s not what I meant, I—just—can I show you?”

“Um,” Y/N swallows hard. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Harry nods slightly, taking carefully measured breaths. “If this feels weird, or anything seems wrong, just tell me to stop, alright?”

Y/N replies faintly. “Alright.”

Nodding again, Harry moves closer on the bed, sitting on his knees so he can get closer to Y/N, who sits cross-legged.  His hands rest lightly on her bare thighs, and his rings are a cool contrast to his warm skin.

Harry begins to rub his hands up and down her thighs slowly.  His movements are measured, and he watches Y/N’s reaction carefully for a sign of her disliking his actions.  However, what he finds is a nervous but interested girl staring back at him.

“Like this.  Like, what you like.” Harry says lowly.  His hands move more to her inner thighs, but they don’t creep higher. “And…”

“And…?” Y/N asks, her heart rate increasing even more.

Harry moves one hand to the hem of Y/N’s tank top, pushing it up a bit so his hand can rest on her waist. He rubs over her warm skin, marvelling in how smooth and soft it is to his touch.  His fingers graze the lace of her bra, but he goes no higher.

“How—how’s that?” Harry asks quietly.

“It’s, um, it’s good.” Y/N replies as she struggles to keep her voice normal. “Yeah.  Good.  But, um, can you…” Harry’s movements pause at her words, and Y/N feels her cheeks get even warmer. “Maybe touch my, uh, my neck.  If you’d like.”

Harry nods, and the hand on her thigh moves to her neck.  He traces his fingers across her shoulder and over her collarbone, delighting in feeling the curves of her body.  Y/N’s breath hitches when his fingers travel up her neck, and Harry swears he can feel her pulse increase under his fingers.

Y/N’s not sure if it’s the fact that she’s touch starved from self isolating that makes Harry’s touches feel so good, or if it’s the fact that it’s Harry touching her, but she doesn’t dwell on it.  Instead, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back, allowing him better access.

She feels Harry’s breath before she feels his lips, but she’s still surprised when she feels him begin to sponge light kisses across her neck.

“H…”

“Is this alright?” He asks the question right below her ear, and yet she can barely hear him because he’s so quiet.

“Yes.” Y/N breathes. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Harry returns to pressing light kisses to her skin, his hands still rubbing over her sides and hips.

For the first time since seeing Harry naked in her bathroom, Y/N can’t deny or explain away her attraction to him.  She can’t convince herself that she doesn’t want him to touch her, because she does, and she can’t tell herself that she doesn’t need him, because she does. Every fibre of her being is telling her that she needs Harry, and she needs him now.  Her heart is pounding, her skin is on fire, and her core feels like she’d going to explode if he doesn’t do something.  And yet, Y/N can’t tell him to touch her more.  She’s frozen, mind blank, and she can only register what Harry is doing at the moment as what she wants.

Harry continues to kiss her neck, never lingering too long in one spot, never sucking too hard. Every kiss is gentle and chaste, except the few rare ones that include the tip of his tongue running over her skin.

After what feels like an eternity, Harry pulls away from her neck, face flushed.  Despite his hands still on her body, Y/N makes an involuntary sound in the back of her throat.

“Is that better?” He asks lowly, rubbing his thumb against your hip.

“I—kind of.” Y/N says softly.  If anything, she thinks, it’s worse.  She needs to satisfy the burn inside her, but she doesn’t know how.

“Good.” Harry replies, but he doesn’t take his hands off her.

Y/N’s own hands have been sitting at her sides as his moved over her body, but she raises one now, as hesitant as Harry was.  She extends it towards his arm, but pauses with her fingers right over his skin.

“Is it okay if I…?”

The corner of Harry’s lips lifts up, just barely. “Yeah, love.  Go ahead.”

Harry’s skin is warm beneath her touch.  Y/N traces the outline of his mermaid tattoo carefully before moving onto others.  She loves how his arm curves under her touch, how he stays still and lets her explore.  She appreciates it, thinking that if Harry made any sudden movements, she’d force herself to pull away.

Soon, her fingers move from tracing his tattoos to tracing the lines of his muscles.  She moves down his forearm to his hand, running her fingers over the veins that show through his tan skin, over his knuckles, down the tips of his calloused fingers and back.  

Harry sucks in a breath, and Y/N’s trance flickers for a moment as her eyes move to his face to see what’s wrong.

“Sorry, just—surprised me.” Harry says, voice low yet sheepish.  He nods down to his thigh, where Y/N realizes her own hand is resting.

“Oh—” She moves to pull her hand away, but Harry places his own on top.

“It’s fine.” He says quickly. “Keep going.”

Y/N bites her lip as she turns her attention back to his arm.  Her fingers move slowly and carefully back up his forearm to his upper arm. She traces over his tattoos while she rubs her thumb gently against the muscle, and stops her fingers at the edge of his t-shirt sleeve.  With a quick glance at Harry, she pushes the sleeve up, tucking it up on his shoulder so she can run her fingers over his ship tattoo, which is one of her favourites.

“Feels nice.” Harry murmurs, his eyes following her movements.

Y/N glances back at his face, taking in his appearance.  His lips are red from the time he spent kissing her neck, and his cheeks are still flushed.  His eyes are darker than usual, and she’s not certain if it’s the candlelight or something else causing it.  There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, with a few loose curls hanging down. Out of reflex, Y/N reaches up and pushes his hair back out of his eyes.

Before she can return her hand to his arm, Harry captures it in his own.  Y/N watches as he brings it to his lips, inhaling as her wrist passes underneath his nose.  Although she’s not sure why, there’s something about seeing how much smaller her hand is in Harry’s that delights her.

Harry presses a soft kiss to her wrist, following it up with another on her palm.  Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the tender sensation.

“It’s my turn to touch you.” She says softly, her voice strained.

Harry hums in reply. “I know.” He kisses your wrist once more before looking at you. “I’ll help.”

Lifting his hand from his thigh (your hand, which was underneath, stays where it is), he pulls up his shirt just enough that he can sneak your hand underneath.  He rests it on his lower chest, and even though his shirt is still partially covering him, Y/N knows she’s touching his butterfly tattoo.

“I like to be touched here.” Harry says in the same low voice.

“Okay.” Y/N bites her lip, her head swimming with alcohol and the smell of the candles and Harry’s cologne and Harry. “It…would be easier without your shirt.”

Without breaking eye contact, save for the moment fabric covers him, Harry pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. “Better?”

Y/N’s eyes drift down to his tanned stomach.  His body is familiar and a stranger to her all at once.  She knows his tattoos, scars, every mark on his skin from a distance, but seeing it like this—touching it like this—makes her feel like she’s never truly seen him before.

“Better.” She manages to say, her hand brushing across his ribs.

Y/N spends a while exploring the planes of his stomach, the contours of his body.  When she gets to his v-lines, and runs her fingers over the ferns tattooed there, Harry shivers a bit, his hand gripping her knee tighter.

Y/N massages his thigh gently. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry clears his throat. “I’m good.”

“Okay.” Y/N nods, but moves her hand further up again, over his chest and over his collar bones.  She takes a moment to trace the lines of his neck, feel the beat if his pulse underneath her fingers, and then tangles her fingers in his hair.  She uses the leverage to tilt his head back a bit, and presses her lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s cologne smells better up close, and Y/N adores the heat of his skin on her sensitive lips. She presses small kisses over the curve of his neck, pausing over his jugular.  Her tongue darts out and she carefully licks along it before ending the motion with a kiss.

“Christ…” Harry exhales slowly, the tips of his fingers digging into her knee slightly.

Y/N knows they’re crossing the threshold of just touching each other for the sake of touching.  She can feel herself dripping in her panties, and when her eyes flicker down, she can see the outline of Harry’s half hard cock in his shorts.  Together, they’ve reached the border of friends helping each other out, and she’s certain that she wants to cross it with him.  However, she’s not sure if they should.

Pulling back enough to look Harry in the eyes, Y/N clears her throat. “H, we—what are we doing?”

Harry waits a moment to answer. “I…I don’t know.  I have no fucking clue.”

“This isn’t friendly anymore.” Y/N’s voice drops to a whisper. “It’s not just—it’s intimate, yeah, but it’s more…” Her eyes move to the outline of his hardening cock once more before looking back up at his face. “It’s more.”

“Yeah.  It’s more.” Harry moves his hand further up her thigh again, rubbing slow circles. “But I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “You don’t?”

“It’s been so long since…” Harry trails off, his gaze drifting down to your lips before returning to your eyes. “And it’s you.  I’ve always wondered if—we—”

“I’ve wondered, too.” Y/N admits, her voice filled with nerves.  Are they really discussing this? “Especially since that day, in the bathroom—”

“I wondered if you looked then.” Harry’s voice drops lower (which Y/N didn’t think was possible). “I thought about it later that day.  I—fuck, I wanted you to look.”

A small noise escapes the back of Y/N’s throat. “This—we’ve been drinking, and—it’s the alcohol, H. Neither of us is thinking straight.”

“This isn’t the alcohol talking.  I’ve thought about—when we’re in the pool, when we cuddle, when we flirt, I—I can’t help it.” Harry closes his eyes for a brief moment, like he’s collecting himself. “I need you.  And I think…I think you need me too.”

“I do.  I need you.” Y/N touches his stubbled jaw with careful fingers. “But we’re friends.  This is going to change that.”

“We don’t know that.” Harry leans into her touch. “You said before that you wanted someone you’re comfortable with, something intimate, something breathless.  You and I are comfortable, and intimate, and—I don’t know.  All I know for sure is that I want you.”

Y/N isn’t sure if he means he wants her in a purely physical way or something more, and while she knows she should clarify that, all she can focus on is his voice and the way it’s going straight to her core.

“I want you, too.” She says simply.

Harry brings his hand to Y/N’s hip. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N nods.  She’s not sure she’s capable of giving a verbal response.

Harry takes it upon himself to lean closer, his fingertips digging into Y/N’s skin in a way she adores. He pauses, hovering just above her lips for a moment, as if to give her time to pull away.  Instead, Y/N just waits in anticipation, delighting in the feeling of his breath running over her skin.

When he kisses her, Y/N tastes alcohol, mint, and what she swears is her own heart in the back of her throat.

Any previous kisses she’s shared with Harry have been half kisses, given in teenage games of truth or dare and in a friend’s parent’s basement.  Those kisses were safe, guarded, and an obligation.  This kiss is the exact opposite.

Although it starts chaste, it quickly grows more passionate.  Y/N can’t stop herself from tugging on Harry’s hair more than she imagines Harry can stop himself from rucking up the hem of her tank top.  His fingers dip under the band of her lace bralette as she nips at his lip, tugging slightly, delighted when a strangled sound echoes from the back of his throat.

Within minutes, Y/N’s allowed Harry to pull her to straddle his lap, his hands grabbing at her hips with a neediness she’s never seen him exhibit before.  Of course, she feels the same way, and she lets her hand run down his chest over and over, using her nails a little more each time.  Although there’s no one around to see, no party to return to, nowhere to go, Y/N wants to leave a mark.  She wants anyone who sees his chest to know that he belongs to her.

Harry breaks away from her, lips red, eyes frenzied, and breathing heavy. “Can I—?” His hands tug on the hem of her top, tugging in question.

Y/N lifts her arms in response, letting him pull it off and toss it to the side.  Harry moves back in to kiss her again, but she keeps her arms up, giving him a long look.

“You’re not done.” She says simply.

He understands right away, and his fingers find the band of her bralette again.  This time, however, he removes it slower, almost as if the removal is ritual itself, and his hands are less frantic when they return to your skin.

Harry looks at Y/Nu with wide eyes, and she understands the meaning in them: this is so much more than just touching, and so much more than two friends using each other for mutual pleasure.  With every touch, they further cross a line, and neither of them can stop.  

With this realization, Harry’s movements become more cautious.  His hands come to rest on her sides, his thumbs just brushing the side of her breast.

“You’re fine.” Y/N assures him in a soothing voice. “Keep going.”

“Are you fine?” He counters, his voice an equal mix of concern and need.

“H.” Y/N takes his hands in her own and places them over her breasts. “Like that.  Touch me like that.”

Harry sucks in a short breath as she manipulates his hands, showing him how to rub her and touch her. After a few moments, she lets her hands move to his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

Y/N begins to grind against him, desperate for a bit of friction.  Their kisses are soon accented with their moans as they each pull the other closer in lust and need.

Still, underneath the physical desires, there’s a current running between them.  Y/N knows it’s been there for the last few weeks, humming quietly in the back of her mind, but being here, now, with Harry touching her, it’s come alive like an electric fence.  She can’t turn it off, and she doesn’t want to.  She doesn’t want to in the slightest.

Harry begins to kiss down her neck like before, but this time his kisses are anything but chaste. When he reaches her breast, he kisses around them before taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Oh fuck—” Y/N arches her back, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. “Harry…”

He hums against her, and his spare hand rubs her back like he does when they get ready to sleep.  Usually, the motion is calming, but right now, Y/N feels anything but calm.

Harry continues until he’s satisfied with his work, and then he kisses his way to her other breast, wrapping his lips against her other nipple.  He spends just as much time on that one, letting his teeth graze it ever so slightly before soothing the action with his tongue.

When he pulls back, there’s a little line of spit connecting Harry’s mouth to her nipple, and Y/N whimpers at the sight.

“H…” She runs her finger through the line before gripping his chin with her thumb and forefinger.  The need inside her builds, as does her fondness for the man in front of her. “God…”

Harry tweaks her hard nipple with his finger, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, but enough to make a gasp fall from her mouth.  He offers no response in the form of words, but the hungry look in his eyes has only increased.

“Let me…” Y/N climbs off of his lap, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed. “Yeah?”

Harry runs a hand through his messy curls, nodding quickly. “You want that?”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods too, pressing a wet kiss to his swollen lips. “So bad.  Yeah.”

Her hands move to the waistband of his shorts, and Harry lifts his hips off the bed.  Y/N tugs down his boxers in the same movement, and tosses both articles of clothing to the side before looking back at him.

Harry’s cock is just as beautiful as she remembers it being the morning she accidentally walked in on him. Even more so, she thinks, because now he’s hard, and the head is the most appetizing shade of pink, with drops of precum pearling at the top.  When Y/N wraps her hand around his girth, she adores the heat that she feels.  

“So pretty…” She says the words almost to herself, and strokes him lightly to get used to the feeling of him in her hand. “I just want to…”

Y/N leans down and flicks her tongue over his tip, collecting the precum gathered there.  In return, a strangled moan leaves Harry’s throat as his arm moves to cover his eyes for a moment.

Y/N presses a kiss to the head of his cock before she continues licking, reveling in the sounds Harry makes.  She had no doubt, with a voice as angelic as his, that his moans and whines and whimpers would be just as beautiful.

When she wraps her lips around the head and sucks, she feels Harry’s hand move to her hair.  She looks up at him without lifting off of his cock, staring him in the eye as she takes more and more of him into her mouth.

“Fuck—” Another moan leaves Harry’s lips, more strained than the last. “That’s it…” He tugs on her hair, but doesn’t push her down.  Even when lost in pleasure, he’s careful with her.

Y/N loves him for it.

Pacing herself, she takes more and more of him into her mouth until her nose is pressed to the base of his stomach, brushing against his (neatly trimmed) pubic hair.  She stays down for just a moment before pulling up completely to breathe, but keeps her hand on him, stroking him slowly.

“You look so good.” Harry mutters, running his hands over her hair in a soothing motion. “I imagined it, but didn’t think…so much better…”

Y/N moves to push her head back down, but Harry stops her, bringing her up for a kiss instead.

“I want to taste you, now.” He tells her, laying her down on the pillows. “Is that alright?”

Y/N nods desperately, feeling even more heat rush to her core and pool there. “Mhmm.”

Harry kisses his way down her body again, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. He leaves her panties on as he pulls the shorts down, and lets out a low groan at the sight of her pink Calvin Klein panties, and more specifically, the dark pink spot that’s apparent on them.

“You’re soaked…” He presses a kiss to her sensitive inner thigh before brushing a finger over the wet spot.

Y/N jumps a bit, making a sound in the back of her throat. “Harry!”

“Sorry.” He kisses her thigh again. “I’m sorry.  Just relax, yeah?  It’s just me. I got you.”

Harry continues to kiss along her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the thin cloth covering her center.  When he presses his first kiss to the fabric, Y/N grasps the sheets in her hands.

“God…” She whispers, fists clenched.

Harry reaches up and takes one of her hands, placing it in his hair wordlessly before kissing over her again, his tongue peaking out just a bit.

The torture continues for what feels like forever, with Harry teasing her over the soaked fabric of her panties.  Finally, Y/N sighs in relief as she feels his hands grip the fabric, and she lifts her hips eagerly as he tugs the article of clothing down.

The first thing she feels is his hot breath hitting her core, which is enough to make her legs reflexively close with pleasure.  Harry’s hand grips her leg, pushing them back open as he takes in the sight of her dripping cunt before him.

“Fuck…” He inhales deeply, committing her scent to memory. “Your pussy is so gorgeous.”

Y/N whimpers at his words and tugs on his curls. “Please, H…I need you.”

“Need me?” Harry asks in a husky voice, his finger touching her outer lips just barely.

“Yes!” Y/N whines, not caring how she sounds. “Never needed anything more…”

Harry runs his finger over her slit, collecting the wetness dripping from her.  YN moans loudly at the contact, not fully relieved but grateful for the light touch.

“So fucking wet.” Harry’s voice sounds not completely his own. “Fuck, Y/N, how are you so wet?”

Y/N feels heat rush to her cheeks, and she mumbles her reply in what’s almost an embarrassed voice. “You know exactly how.”

“Don’t even know what to do first.” Harry ignores her reply, lost in his own world as he continues stroking her slit. “Just want…”

He presses into her without warning, and Y/N arches her back off the bed as Harry’s finger slips into her cunt.  His cold rings touch the top of her entrance as Harry pauses inside her, his eyes heavy with lust.

“And so tight.” He moans, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh my God…”

He curves his finger inside her, wanting to feel every inch of her that he can.  Y/N continues to whimper above him.

“More.” She begs him, pushing back against his finger. “I can take more, Harry, please.”

Harry easily slips enough finger in, repeating his motion as she pushes back on him.  However, the pressure building inside Y/N disappears abruptly as his fingers do, and she’s just about to get angry at him when she feels his tongue replace his fingers.

“Fuck!” She exclaims loudly, her eyes closing as she throws her head back. “Harry—!”

Harry moves his tongue in and out of her, loving the taste of her juices in his mouth.  He moves further up to her clit, licking and sucking over the sensitive bundle of nerves as Y/N writhes above him.

“Taste so good.” He growls from between her thighs. “Fuck, Y/N…you’re going to cum for me, yeah?” He asks as he reaches up and grips her hands in his, interlocking their fingers. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Another strangled moan leaves Y/N’s mouth as he speaks. “I-I’m so close, Harry. Keep going, please.”

“Tell me.” He demands, licking over her clit again. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Y/N grinds against his tongue as she grips his hands tighter. “I’m going—fuck—I’m going to cum for you, H.  I’m going—”

Harry sucks hard on her clit, and Y/N throws her head back as an orgasm hits her harder than ever before.  Her thighs clench shut, trapping Harry’s head between them, but he just continues to lap at the juices flowing from her cunt while making the most obscene sounds Y/N has ever heard.

Harry doesn’t pull back until Y/N unclenches her thighs, and before he does, he presses one last kiss to her clit, making her flinch.  

Y/N is so exhausted she can barely open her eyes.  Once she does, however, and sees Harry, she feels all the exhaustion fade.

Harry’s lips are, somehow, even more red than before, and his whole chin is slick with her wetness.  He keeps licking his lips, like he can’t get enough of the taste, and Y/N feels like her whole body is on fire.

“Harry…” She whispers, squeezing his hand again.  She doesn’t know what else to say.

Harry lifts himself over her body, which is still shaking from her orgasm, and kisses her gently.  She can taste herself on his mouth, and she adores it.

“You taste so fucking good.” He murmurs, pressing his sweaty forehead against hers. “Like candy.”

Y/N swallows hard. “I haven’t—no one’s done that in a long time.”

“I’ll be glad to do it again.” Harry replies, brushing her hair back. “But right now…all I want to do is make love to you.” He looks at her with sincere eyes. “Will you let me?”

The tenderness of him asking almost brings tears to her eyes, and Y/N nods, her hands coming up to cup his rosy cheeks. “Yeah, H.  I’m…” She bites her lip as she realizes the truth of her words. “I’m yours.  Always.”

Harry inhales sharply before kissing her softly, his hands stroking her hair in a comforting fashion again. “How do you want to…?”

“I want you on top.” Y/N replies, touching his swallow tattoos. “I-I want to feel you.  Feel your weight.  Feel you close.”

With a nod, Harry positions himself over her, spreading her legs wide enough that his body can fit between.  He holds himself up with one hand and uses the other to guide his cock to Y/N’s folds, just brushing the head over them.  He’s teasing himself just as much as her.

“Harry…” Y/N leans her head back at the sensation. “Please, H…”

“I don’t—wait—” Harry pauses his movements, and Y/N can see on his face the strength and discipline it takes for him to do so. “I—a condom—”

“I’m clean, and I have an IUD.” Y/N assures him, running her hand along his shoulders. “Are you?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I am, but—are you sure?”

As Y/N looks into his eyes, the love and concern and want written all over them, she knows she’s never been more sure of anything in her life. “I want to feel you, without anything in between.  I—” She takes a deep breath and presses a kiss to his jaw. “Yeah.  I’m sure.”

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead, and the tender action makes Y/N close her eyes as she revels in the feeling.  A moment later, Harry moves down again and puts his forehead against hers as he pushes into her.

The moment he enters her, Y/N feels a fullness she’s never experienced before.  Not only is Harry stretching her cunt in a way that feels euphoric, but she feels complete.  He’s as close to her as he’s ever been, his breath is mingling with hers, his body weight is held over her carefully, and Y/N thinks she could die in the pleasure of this moment happily.

“Y/N…baby…” The pet name seems to fall easily from Harry’s lips as he bottoms out, holding himself still to adjust to the feeling. “Oh my God…”

Y/N digs her fingernails into Harry’s shoulders, pressing kisses to his lips between gasps for breath. “Move, H, please.”

Harry begins to thrust his hips, setting a slow but deep pace before gradually speeding up.  While part of Y/N wishes he would thrust as fast as he can, a deeper part of her is grateful that Harry is taking his time with her.  This feeling, now that she has it, is better than anything she’d ever felt before, and Y/N doesn’t want it to end anytime soon.

Harry kisses Y/N again as he moves inside her.  Although they’re as close as they’ve ever been, each of them keeps pulling the other closer.  As Harry thrusts deeper, Y/N pulls more of his weight down on her.  As Y/N scratches her nails down his back, Harry kisses her jaw. Neither of them can process exactly what they’re doing, but neither of them can stop.  Each touch is tender, each kiss is passionate, and each moment brings them closer together in so many more ways than just physical.

They don’t speak except for the occasional whisper from Y/N for Harry to move faster, or the occasional moan of Y/N’s name falling from Harry’s lips. The only constant sounds in the room are of the slickness between Y/N’s thighs as Harry moves between them, the sound of his skin meeting hers, both of them panting and moaning, and a few whispers of “please” that are barely audible.  Despite the lack of speech, however, the two are in constant communication.  Kissing, biting, scratching, and squeezing have become the vocabulary of their new language.  When Harry looks into Y/N’s wet eyes, he knows that she feels something running through the very depths of her being.  When Y/N feels Harry tuck his head between her neck and her shoulder as he whimpers, she knows that he trusts her to comfort him and hold him there.

Soon, Y/N feels the waves of pleasure begin to build, and she knows that when they finally break, they’ll pull her under. “H, I—fuck—I—” She can’t manage to form the sentence she needs to.

Harry, however, can tell exactly what she’s going to say. “Please.” He pants, adoring how she buries her head into his shoulder. “Please, love, cum for me…” He kisses over the shell of her ear as he thrusts deeper. “Need you.”

Y/N whimpers, biting down on Harry’s shoulder as her orgasm rolls over her. Harry feels her walls tighten around his cock, but he doesn’t slow down, and he works her through her climax until she whines in his ear.

“So good, H…” Y/N can barely find the strength to whisper the phrase.

Hearing her sound so fucked out, feeling her cunt squeezing him, and seeing the euphoria on her face is enough to bring Harry to the edge.  He slows his thrusts, about to pull out, but Y/N presses on his back to keep him close.

Harry groans as a shiver rolls through his body. “I’m about to cum, Y/N—”

“Stay inside me.” She pleads, pressing the pads of her fingers between his shoulder blades. “I-I’m yours, Harry, I told you.  Yours.”

Y/N looks up at him with such trusting and vulnerable eyes that Harry can’t make himself argue with her.  He nods instead, his thrusts increasing in speed again until he feels himself reach the edge of pleasure.  

As he freefalls into Y/N, his hips stutter, and he presses deep inside her while her name falls from his lips over and over again.  He can’t think of anything else to say.  He can’t think of anything else worth saying.

When Harry finally manages to pull himself together enough to pull out, Y/N instantly feels the emptiness inside her.  She wishes he would stay, but knows that it’s not practical, and instead just relishes in the feeling of his cum dripping from her entrance.  It’s like he’s claimed her as his, left a physical mark of himself, and Y/N doesn’t have the strength to stop herself from loving it.

They lay in silence for a few moments, trying to catch their breath and regain a sense of where they are.  Both Harry and Y/N are sweaty, exhausted, and covered in each other in more ways than one.  The wrap on Harry’s tattoo has slipped from his arm.  Somewhere in their pleasure, Y/N has lost an earring.  And yet, the only thing each of them cares about is looking at the other.

Out of instinct, Harry pulls Y/N’s shivering body into his, wrapping his arms around her tightly.  He can’t imagine she’s cold, and Y/N can’t bring herself to tell him she’s shivering because of the feeling of being so close to him, but neither of them denies the other of the affectionate gesture.

Y/N loses track of how long they lay there until Harry breaks the silence.

“I—” His voice cracks, and he clears it quickly before trying again. “I’ll get you a cloth to—to clean you up.”

Y/N nods, and Harry gently untangles himself from her before going to the bathroom.  Y/N can hear the running of water, and turns her head to see what he’s doing, but when she spots his naked silhouette, she closes her eyes.  Despite what they just did, there’s a shyness in her still when she sees him completely stripped.

Her eyes stay closed, and she only detects his return from feeling his weight return to the bed.  He places a gentle hand on her trembling knee, pulling her open ever so slightly.

“’M just cleaning you up.” Harry says in a quiet tone. “Is that okay?”

Y/N nods again.  She’s not certain she has enough strength to say anything.

Harry wipes between her legs with a gentle touch, watching how she flinches at the slightest of pressure. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely, kissing her knee tenderly before continuing. “You’re sensitive, I know.  Almost done.”

Once he finishes wiping away the cum dripping out of her (his cum dripping out of her), Harry tosses the cloth onto his pile of clothes on the ground, deciding it can be dealt with later.  His most pressing concern at the moment is Y/N.

He lays back down on his side so he can face her, and pushes a lock of hair away from her closed eyes.

“Y/N.” Harry murmurs, hand resting on her waist carefully. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is rough when she answers, and Harry can hear the echo of her moans in her words. “I-I’m fine, H.  Just…tired.”

“Do you…” Harry bites his lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/N gives a slight shake of her head. “Maybe—maybe tomorrow, yeah?” She does her best to open one eye, but quickly shuts it again when she sees how Harry is looking at her. “Can’t right now.”

“Okay.” Harry lays his arm over her side as he moves closer. “Tomorrow.”

Y/N presses her head into his shoulder and commits the scent of his skin to memory.

…

The first thing Y/N registers when she wakes up is the feeling of someone touching her hair.

She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know it’s Harry.  Of course it’s Harry.  It’s always been Harry.  In every way.

Y/N sighs and readjusts her position in bed, moving a bit closer to Harry.  She shivers once from the cold, still naked from last night’s activities, and that’s the only hint Harry needs before he pulls the sheet up around her more.

“Are you awake?” He asks softly, careful in case she’s still lost deep in sleep.

Y/N moves her head in a passable nodding motion, and her voice is thick with sleep when she answers. “Mhmm.  Barely.”

A low chuckle escapes from Harry’s mouth, and the next thing Y/N feels are his warm lips against her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“A little hungover.  A little sore.” Y/N finally opens her eyes as she speaks, and almost wishes she hadn’t.

Harry’s hair is a mess from both sex and sleep, messy and wild and haphazardly pushed out of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, and his neck and chest are covered in marks from both Y/N’s lips and fingers.  She knows that if he turned over, his back would be the same, and it embarrasses her and delights her at the same time.  He looks completely fucked and content, and more relaxed than she’s seen him in ages.

Y/N wonders if she looks the same.  If she looks as pretty.

“Sorry.” Harry says, his tone a bit sheepish.

“It’s not your fault.” Y/N replies, shrugging a bit.

“Well…it is, actually.  I made your drinks.  And I…” He trails off, brushing his fingers down her bare hip to her thigh.

“Yeah.” Y/N feels her face get warm. “I guess it is your fault.”

Harry laughs lightly, but it fades away as he looks into her eyes. “We, uh…we should probably talk about what happened.”

Y/N purses her lips. “Yeah. We should.”

“So…first question, I guess.” Harry props his head up on his arm, but keeps running his fingers over Y/N’s hip gently. “Do you regret it?”

Y/N sits up a bit more in bed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. “No.  I don’t.  Do you?”

“No.” Harry replies instantly. “I don’t regret it.”

“Okay.” Y/N is so aware of Harry’s eyes on her as she thinks of her question. “Did…did you enjoy it?”

A snort falls from Harry’s mouth, and he shakes his head incredulously. “Christ, Y/N, of course I enjoyed it.  It felt—you felt like heaven.”

Y/N flushes at the comment. “I’ve never…I’ve always made my partners wear condoms.  So that was a first for me.”

Harry’s fingers pause over her hip, but only for a moment.  It looks as though he’s deciding whether or not he should comment on that, but changes his mind at the last moment. “Did you enjoy it?” He asks instead, echoing your question.

“I did.”

“You said you were mine.”

Y/N swallows hard. This conversation is less incriminating than making love to him last night, but it seems infinitely more powerful. Probably because they’re both sober, she thinks.

“That—” She clears her throat. “That’s not a question.”

Harry sighs, but there’s an endeared smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You said you were mine. Did you mean that?”

Y/N can’t look him in the eyes, so she looks down instead.  Harry’s hand lies between them, and she intertwines their fingers, playing with his rings as she carefully formulates her answer. “I’ve—I’ve always been yours, H.  Ever since we were kids, I’ve belonged to you.” She runs a finger over his H ring. “Even when you were gone.”

Harry frowns a bit at the tone of her voice. “I’ve been yours too, Y/N.  I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

“You’ve always been further out of reach.” Y/N pulls her hand from his, until their fingertips are just barely touching. “Always just…a little out of reach.”

Harry intertwines their fingers again. “I’m not out of reach.  Not right now.  And I’ve never—if you ever called me and said you needed me, I would’ve been on the first flight back home to you.  I would’ve dropped everything for you, Y/N.  I still would, and I always will.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes, and although she hurries to close them, one slips out.  Harry catches it on his finger before it can run off her cheek, and when she looks at him again, there’s a concerned look on his face.

“C’mere.” Harry mumbles, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.  He rubs her back like he always does, and the motion is so comforting that she almost forgets the vulnerable position they’re both in. “You’re my girl.  You’re always going to be my girl.” He murmurs in her ear, voice low and soothing. “Always.  Don’t you know that?”

Y/N nods, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“If this is too much for you…” Harry traces his fingers between her shoulder blades.  Y/N thinks he’s tracing words, like they used to as children, but she can’t tell what words he may be tracing. “I understand. We can just—we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I—” Y/N shakes her head, looking up at Harry. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” Harry asks, his tone as pleading as it was last night. “All I’ve ever tried to do is give you what you want, and usually I’m pretty good at telling what that is, but right now, I’m lost.  I don’t want things to go back to how they were, but I don’t—I can’t lose you, so just—if you just tell me what you want, I’ll do it.  I’ll make it work.  I promise that I won’t be mad, or hurt, or anything.”

Y/N sits up as best she can, her fingers combing through Harry’s messy curls on reflex, as she always does it when he gets upset. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want you, H.  I do.  I need you.  I told you that last night.”

“But you’re crying.” Harry cups her wet cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “I hate that.”

Y/N leans into his touch. “It just feels…strange.” She says after a moment. “All of this.  I spent so long trying to stop myself from thinking of you like this, and now that I am, I feel like—like it’s wrong.”

Harry tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Does it feel wrong?”

His low voice makes her shiver. “No.  It feels right.  Really right.”

“I feel like…” Harry’s eyes flicker between Y/N’s own eyes and their intertwined hands. “I feel like we’re both dancing around saying it.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “Saying what?”

“Saying…” Harry leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Saying that we’re in love with each other.”

Y/N feels breathless at the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with me?”

“Are you not in love with me?” He replies, moving so he’s leaning over her more. “We’ve said I love you so many times before.”

“That’s a different kind of love.” Y/N mumbles, touching the chain dangling from Harry’s neck.

“But we were both meaning something different when we were saying it.  At least, I was.” Harry inhales deeply, like he’s centering himself. “I’ve known…for a while, but I’ve felt it for longer than I’ve known it. And I thought that you might…”

“I think I do.” Y/N whispers. “But saying it feels so—so permanent.  Like we can’t go back to being friends if it blows up in our faces.”

Harry traces a finger down Y/N’s cheek, her neck, between her breasts, to her side, touching just below her ribs. “Maybe we can’t.  But I don’t think we’ll want to, Y/N.  I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “This last month, it’s been like we’ve been…playing house, or something.  I’ve loved it.  I keep hearing from friends saying that they’re so sick of the person they’re living with, so tired of them, but I’ve never felt that way about you, and I don’t think I ever will.  I’ll never get sick of you.”

Y/N laughs a bit. “That’s romantic.”

“Shut up.” Harry can’t help but smile slightly. “It is romantic.”

“Yeah.  It is.” Y/N says softly, her hand rubbing over Harry’s tattooed arm. “You’re really in love with me?”

Harry nods. “I am.”

“Huh.” Y/N bites her lip. “So I guess we’ve been lying to our moms, haven’t we?”

Harry laughs loudly, collapsing on the bed next to Y/N. “Jesus, can you not mention our mums when we’re naked in bed?”

“I’m just saying!  We’ve been saying for years that you’re not in love with me, and it’s all been a lie.”

“What about when they ask if you’re in love with me?” Harry’s tone is joking, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the back of his voice. “Has that been a lie, too?”

Y/N’s heart pounds as she nods. “Yeah.  We’ll have to get them something really good for Mother’s Day this year to help make up for it.”

A grin spreads over Harry’s face, almost triumphant, as he leans down to kiss her. “Agreed.” He moves to cage himself over Y/N. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to hear you say that you’re in love with me.” Harry’s grin turns into a smirk.

Y/N flushes as she shakes her head. “You say it first.”

“I’ve already admitted it!”

“So have I!”

“Not as well as I have!”

“Oh, so it’s a competition now?” Y/N scoffs. “What a wonderful start to our relationship.”

“I’m just saying, Y/N, admitting it is the first step to—”

“Are you seriously going to say that to get me to say that I love you?”

“Just—”

“You’re so irritating—”

“I’m irritating?  You—”

“You’re the worst!”

“And yet you’re in my bed with no clothes on!”

“Okay.  Nope.  Relationship over.” Y/N pushes Harry off of her and wraps the sheet around herself as she gets out of bed. “You blew it, Styles.”

“Y/N.” Laughter falls from Harry’s lips as he leans over the edge of the bed. “Love.  Come back to bed.”

“I think a minute and thirty-seven seconds may be the record for the world’s shortest relationship.” Y/N searches her bag for some clean clothes.

“Come here!”

“Another world record for Harry Styles.” Y/N calls to him without turning around. “You must be so proud—”

Her words are cut off in a shriek as Harry picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he brings her back to his bed.

“Harry!” She yells, hitting his arm. “Put me down!”

Harry tosses her on the bed, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, and cages himself over her sheet-covered body.  He’s still completely bare. “Take it back.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Fine. We’re still together.  One less record for you.”

“Good.  Now…” Harry brushes a finger over her lips. “Say you’re in love with me.”

Y/N’s laughter fades a bit as the nerves set back in. “I…”

“Please, Y/N?” Harry murmurs, leaning down to kiss her neck. “Please say it.”

“I’m—” Y/N sucks in a quick breath, and all of her protest leaves her body as she exhales. “I’m in love with you, Harry.”

She can feel Harry’s lips forming a grin against her neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N tugs on his hair gently, just enough so she can pull his head back to look in his eyes. “Now you say it.”

“Y/N.” Harry says her name like it’s something precious. “I’m in love with you.”

A flush of pleasure crawls up Y/N’s spine at his words, but she does her best to keep her tone light-hearted. “So are you calling our moms, or am I?”

“I’ll do it.” Harry reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “And I’ll be sure to mention how it took us getting drunk and having sex to realize—”

“Harry!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mum we used a condom—”

“I’ll kill you, Styles, and I’ll make it look like an accident.” Y/N shoves his shoulder hard.

Harry grins at her. “Now that’s romantic.”

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 1)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, homophobia (f slurs and d slur), panic attacks, toxic friends, mentions of attempted suicide/getting told to kill yourself

Word count: 6,377

(A/N): ok, so I definitely got carried away with this, so I had to split Thursday into two parts. If I kept it in one part, it’d probs be like 10k-11k words long lmao

You woke up feeling strangely more refreshed than usual. Glancing at your clock, you saw that you actually woke up about thirty minutes before your alarm went off. You got a whopping twelve hours of sleep, a stark contrast from your recent sleep schedule consisting of no more than four hours a night. You felt like you could rule the world with how much energy you had. Sure, you felt anxiety pooling in your stomach like you usually did and you had a terrible dream about Haley rejecting you and getting completely outed to the entire school, but that did not stop you from throwing your covers off your bed and walking down the hall to the kitchen with the most confidence you’ve had since starting high school.

When you got to the kitchen, you saw a dead looking Uncle Schlatt slumped at the table chugging coffee and a chipper Philza trying to make conversation. Usually, you would’ve joined Schlatt in being dead inside, but today was different. You were filled to the brim with energy that you haven’t had in years. As you walked through the door, their heads turned towards you.

“Mornin Dad, mornin Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle merely grunted before going back to guzzling down his coffee. Your dad smiled at you, “well, looks like someone’s well rested.”

“Yeah, I got like twelve hours of sleep last night.”

“Glad to hear it, hun. You really needed it.”

“Glad to hear someone’s feeling well rested,” your uncle grumbled into his coffee. 

“Schlatt, don’t be such a downer all the time,” Philza rolled his eyes at your uncle. 

“Fuck you Phil, I’m a ball of fuckin sunshine. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah, Dad, I don’t know what you’re talkin about. Uncle Schlatt’s the heart and soul of this house. Even if he doesn’t live here.”

Schlatt gave a booming laugh, “suck it Phil. And that, (y/n), is why you’re my favorite niece.”

“At least I’m someone’s- wait. I’m your only niece.”

“Still my favorite niece!”

You grinned happily, that was better than nothing. “Love ya, Uncle Schlatt!”

Your uncle’s cocky grin turned more sincere and he diverted his full attention to you, “love ya too, kid.”

“Love each other quieter, you woke me up.” Wilbur’s tired voice complained as he walked into the room and slumped into his chair next to Schlatt. Schlatt clapped a hand onto his shoulder and rustled his hair.

“My man! How’s Sally, huh?”

Wilbur flushed red and started sputtering as Philza turned his confused gaze to his son. “Who’s Sally, Wilbur?”

You couldn’t leave your brother high and dry when he accepted you for being yourself so readily yesterday, so you quickly jumped in for him. “Sally’s just one of his friends at school. They’re job shadowing together for their project. Right, Wilbur?” You turned towards the flustered man with a somewhat forced smile and raised eyebrows. He looked at you with immense relief and nodded vigorously, his hair flopping onto his forehead. 

“Yes! We’re planning on job shadowing our band director, he said that it’d be a good idea if we want to major in music.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me about her before! You should invite her over for dinner, I’d love to meet her!” Oh, your dad did not buy your terrible excuse for Wilbur, that man is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out lies. Poor, poor Wilbur. 

Despite the blush remaining on his cheeks, Wilbur seemed to think that Philza actually bought his weak excuse. “I’ll invite her over soon. Does Friday night next week work?”

Philza grinned cheekily, “yes! I can’t believe you haven’t brought her over sooner if you’re close enough to job shadow with her!”

At this point, Schlatt’s face was cherry red with his almost failed attempt to hold in his laughter. “I’m not missin this. Me an’ Tubbs are comin over next Friday.” 

Wilbur still hasn’t noticed that they hadn’t bought it, you thought he was more perceptive than that. Eventually, Philza started to make breakfast and conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as everybody waited for Techno, Tommy, and Tubbo. Deciding to pull out your phone, you scrolled through your notifi- wait. Why did you have forty-two messages from Adrian and Sammy? Why did they make a groupchat with everyone except Annie? Furrowing your brows in confusion, you opened the group chat. What you read made your breathing catch in your chest and your skin blanch, it wasn’t a dream. Everything was real.

Sammy <3

(y/n) you fucking pervert

How could you do this to us????

Adrian <3

We’ve given you everything and yet you’re still a disgusting person. 

Fucking faggot

We thought we could fix you, but you’re broken

You’re always going to be

Sammy <3

And now, you’re gonna go to hell with all the other dykes and fairies.

It’ll probably be heaven for you, surrounded by perverts like yourself

You’re staying far away from Annie

Adrian <3

You’ve put her through so much shit and now this

We swear to god if you talk to her again we’re gonna make you wish you would’ve gone through with killing yourself freshman year

We’re leaking the pictures slut

You felt your anxiety melt away into betrayal. So they were yours and Haley’s stalkers? How dare they try to leak Haley’s pictures. They could leak yours, you didn’t give a shit if yours were leaked. You could learn to live with it, you always did after all the shit you put yourself through throughout the years, but Haley’s? She didn’t do anything. Even if her rejection was painful, you still deeply cared for her. She didn’t deserve that. You, however, did for not being normal. For making people around you uncomfortable with your presence. 

(Y/n)

That was you guys?????

Why the fuck would you do that

I trusted you 

All of you

Sammy <3

We trusted you too dyke

But you’re a two-faced bitch

And to think we actually thought you were our friend

Were you only friends with Ann and I so you could get into our pants?

I’m disgusted

You’re a fucking pervert.

Adrian <3

We shouldn’t have talked you out of suicide freshman year

You fucking deserve it

Make Annie’s life easier and just swan dive off a roof

You’ll be doing everyone a favor

(Y/n)

Listen, I don’t care if you leak my pictures.

Just don’t leak Haley’s

She has no part in this

I’ll leave you guys alone if you delete Haley’s pictures

Hell, I’ll do anything for you if you could release them after the final volleyball match today

It’s Haley’s time to shine and she deserves the attention as team captain

She’s worked so hard to get there all of high school and leaking my nudes would take the attention away from her

Let her have her moment

Sammy <3

For once she has a point

She probably manipulated the poor girl

Who knows what the fag would’ve done to her if we didn’t expose her

Adrian <3

Fine, we’ll delete Haley’s pictures and we’ll wait until after the game

But we’re leaking yours

You deserve it for what you did to Annie and Haley

“Kid, are you okay? You’re kinda pale over there buddy.”

Looking up from your phone, you saw everybody’s eyes on you. They each looked concerned, but Wilbur even more so. He was the only one in the room at the moment that knew about your panic attacks. He stood up from his spot and walked over to you with long strides.

“She just remembered the homework in stats that we forgot about. Techno asked us in the group chat about it, we were just about to go and see if he could help us.” 

“But Wilbur, I thought you took statistics last year.”

“No, that was algebra two, I’m taking stats this year,” that was a lie, he was in pre-calculus this year. “C’mon (y/n), lets go finish that assignment.” 

He grabbed your shoulder and hauled you into a stand before grabbing your hand and practically dragging you up the stairs and into Techno’s room. Said pink-haired teenager looked up angrily. “What’d I say about kno- (y/n)?”

Wilbur closed the door and locked it behind him. He dragged you over to Techno’s bed and sat you down on the edge before kneeling down to look you in the eyes.

“(Y/n), can I touch you? Is that alright?”

After you shakily nodded, he grabbed your hand and placed it over his chest. “Breathe with me.” Like yesterday, you tried to copy his movements, but it wasn’t working. Your panic attack was just getting worse by the minute. Techno pushed Wilbur aside and took his place kneeling in front of you and grabbing your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“(Y/n), can you tell me five things you can see around the room?”

When you didn’t move your wide eyes away from Techno’s face, he frowned and gently squeezed your hand. “You can get through this. What’re five things you can see around the room?”

You reluctantly tore your eyes away from his face and peered around the room. You hadn’t noticed that your blurred vision had tunneled until you realized that you couldn’t see anything in your peripheral vision. Your unseeing eyes flicked around the room. 

You tried to swallow, but you couldn’t do anything through the lump in your throat. With a shaky voice, you gasped out “I-I can’t breathe. I-”

“Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. Follow me.”

You tried to breathe with him, and you eventually got to the point where you could speak. Your eyes flicked around the room once again and slowly recognized your surroundings. 

“You… Wilbur… Desk… Window…”

“That’s good, just one more.”

Your eyes flicked around the room, “...Book.”

“Look back at me, you’re doing so good,” when you looked back at him, he had a small smile on his face. “Nice job. Now, four things you can feel. Can you do that for me?”

You shakily nodded and looked at your hands and around your surroundings. “Bed… Pants… You… Carpet.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“You… Birds… Breathing.”

“You’re almost there, I’m so proud of you. Two things you can smell?”

“Toast and… and burning?”

Despite his confusion about the sudden burning smell, he continued to smile at you. “Good, last one. One thing you can taste?”

You licked your lips before scrunching your nose slightly, “...snot.”

“Wilbur, can you go get her a few kleenexes and a glass of water?” Techno asked his brother without taking his eyes off you.

Wordlessly, he swiftly left the room. “Are you feeling better?”

You panted as you reached up to rub at your teary eyes, “yeah, how’d you know what to do?”

His smile turned slightly bashful, “I did some research last night. I’m glad I did, that was a bad panic attack. Can I- can I ask what caused it?”

You pulled out your phone and handed it to him, letting him scroll through the messages while you brought up your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. You felt tired after that attack, however you had a little bit more energy than you usually did. Only a little bit more. It was probably because you slept for half the day and through the night yesterday. You watched your brother scroll through your texts with tired eyes. 

He was emotionless as he scrolled, making you somewhat scared about what his reaction would be. He probably hasn’t gotten to the whole “go kill yourself” or the stalking parts. Judging by his set jaw and labored breathing, he was pissed already and he didn’t even get to the bad parts yet.

In the middle of his scrolling, Wilbur came back with a box of tissues, a glass of water, and a plate of bacon, eggs, and toast. When you hardly moved to grab them, he sat on the bed beside you and handed you a tissue. After cleaning up, you took the glass of water and started to slowly sip at it. “Thanks, Wil.” 

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close to him. When he looked over Techno’s shoulder at your phone, you saw his eyebrows furrow. “Tech, what’s-”

He was interrupted as Techno shoved your phone into his hands and stood up to start pacing around his room. “Read it yourself.” He sounded more monotone than usual. He was absolutely furious.

You watched Wilbur’s face as he read through your messages. Unlike Technoblade, he looked furious. His eyes were set ablaze as his entire face turned an angry red. “(Y/n), what the absolute fuck? Why didn’t you tell us this was happening?”

Shrinking in on yourself and pulling your knees closer to your chest, you murmured out a small “sorry.” You saw him quickly turn his head to you as his face softened. He pulled you into a full hug.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is, it’s all their fault,” he spat with disgust. “How’d they even get your nudes? Did you send them to anyone?”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, “that’s the thing, Wil. I’ve never taken nudes before. They took them through my window. I deserve it.”

You felt him freeze up and heard Techno pause his pacing to stomp over to you. He tore Wilbur’s arms off from you and held you out at arms length by your shoulders. He looked the most angry than you’ve ever seen him with his furious eyes burning into your own and his mouth set in a firm frown. It was terrifying to see him that angry.

“(Y/n), you don’t deserve a single fucking thing that’s happened to you. You were manipulated and gaslit by a group of self righteous assholes. You. Do. Not. Deserve. Anything. That. Happened. To. You. Do you understand me?” 

Despite your fears of him, you were determined to protect your friends. “But I do deserve it though. I was a bad friend to them. I tried so hard, but I couldn’t be a good friend to them when they were always helping me. I’m just not a good person in general. I deserve it for not being normal.”

“(Y/n)-”

“Technoblade, that’s enough.” Wilbur cut him off with a firm tone, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“No it isn’t Wilbur. It’s not enough until she realizes how fucking toxic they are. What they’re doing is gaslighting. You’re in a psychology class, you should know what that is. Give me the definition of it. Now.”

“It’s when someone manipulates another person for their own personal gain… I’d know if I’m being gaslit, and I’m not. They’re just telling me the truth, they keep me in check. I could put more effort into my appearance and personality. I could stand to lose a couple of pounds.” “How do you not- ya know what? Listen. Just listen. That’s the definition of being gaslit. They’re constantly putting you down and making you self conscious about every. Little. Thing because they need to put someone down to fuel their own damaged egos and they laugh at you when you show that you’re hurt by their comments. That’s not a healthy friendship, (y/n). It’s toxic. 

“Real friends would never, and I mean never, do that to you. Real friends would never tell you that you looked like shit when you’re as beautiful as Aphrodite. Real friends would never out you to the entire school when you weren’t ready. Real friends would never tell you to lose weight because they wouldn’t care about what you look like. Real friends care about your well being and they look out for you. They love you for you.”

You fell silent as you contemplated his words. Were they really that toxic? You were planning on being a psychology major in college, so why didn’t you notice that they were actually always against you? You learned in your class that manipulative people are naturally cunning and sneaky, but you couldn’t help but feel stupid. You thought that they were helping you when they were clearly toxic. It was right under your nose and you didn’t even see the signs. What kind of psychology student were you if you couldn’t recognize the obvious signs of manipulation? 

On one hand, you were filled with betrayal. But on the other hand, you felt molten hot anger overwhelm and swirl around your entire body like a cyclone absolutely decimating everything in its path with its violent winds hurling in a blind rage anything and everything without a care of the outcome. You felt the burning hatred of a thousand suns rise up from deep within your being, filling you with a hatred that you didn’t know you were capable of. 

They fucked up your entire life, not you. They were the ones with the ugly personalities, not you. They were the ones that needed to improve themselves, not you. They were bad friends, not you. They laughed at the pain they brought upon you purposefully. They completely humiliated you. They betrayed your trust. They took pictures of you without your consent. They fucked up your relationship with Haley. They violated Haley. They fucking stole her dignity from her with those disgusting pictures they took of her. They were truly vile creatures undeserving of any mercy. Not that you were actually considering being merciful, that would be too good for them. They deserved everything you were going to throw at them. You were going to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of your past self. 

You felt yourself practically vibrate with fury as you held Technoblade’s intense gaze with one of your own. “Those bastards fucking used me for years. Literal years and I thought they were there for me,” you gave a sardonic laugh, your voice shaking with anger. “I-I’m gonna fuckin kill them the next time I see their sorry asses. Make them feel what it’s like to get tossed out of a car. Make them feel what it’s like to constantly get beaten down.”

Techno’s hands gripped your shoulders in a vice grip as his eyes sparked with a crazed delight and he grinned widely at you, “that’s the spirit! You’re gonna rain hellfire upon them, beat their asses (y/n)! Fuck em up! FUCK! EM! UP!”

Wilbur, always thinking about potential consequences and the voice of reason, spoke up with hesitance. “As much as I love that you’re finally realizing that they’re toxic as hell and want revenge, you’d have to wait at least until tomorrow. If you did it today, you wouldn’t be allowed to go to finals. Besides, I don’t think that you should even fight them. You would be out- wait. They’re the ones that opened the car door and fucked up your back?” Seeing you nod, his face darkened in anger. “...(Y/n), you’re gonna fuck em up as soon as you can tomorrow. We’ll back you up if they try to gang up on you, we aren’t eighteen yet, so it’s still legal. ”

“YES, SUCCUMB TO THE ANARCHY! WE’RE GONNA FUCK EM UP!”

“YOU ARE NOT FUCKING ANYONE UP ANYTIME SOON, TECHNOBLADE.” Philza’s voice boomed from behind the closed door. Said door swung open to reveal your father’s angry form and your uncle’s intrigued, slightly proud form.

You three stared at the two for a while with gaping mouths, your previous intensity substantially diminuendos into a quiet shock. No one fucks with an angry Dadza. Techno was the quickest to get over the shock. “...How long were you standing there?”

Your father sneered. “Well, long enough to hear that you three are going to fight someone! Why the hell would you do that?” 

Your brothers looked at you in a silent question. Shaking your head, you answered in a small voice, “there’s just some people messing with me at school. They were just worried about me. We weren’t gonna actually fight someone, they were just talking about how it’d be nice to get some revenge for me. I was just about to tell them that I could handle myself and we didn’t need to fight.”

Immediately, your dad’s stiff stance relaxed slightly as his eyes pierced into your own, searching them to see if you’re lying to him or not. You felt a cold sweat drip down the back of your head at the intensity of his gaze, you hated when he did that. It always made you feel like he was staring right at your soul. Eventually, his gaze softened.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you through it.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. Plus, it’s nothing I can’t handle by myself.”

“But you looked really panicked earlier hun. Are you sure you can-”

“I just forgot about my stats homework until this morning and I thought I wouldn’t be able to get it done in time, but I did! No worries,” you spoke a little faster than usual. You prayed that he wouldn’t see through your lie. 

“...Alright. Just let me know if it gets to be too much for you and I can talk with your principal about it. Now go eat something and get ready, you only have,” he glanced at the clock on the wall, “an hour before you have to be at school. Hurry up or you’re going to be late.”

Your dad turned around and walked down the hallway away from the room. Schlatt, however, loomed in the doorway for a while before he came into the room and closed the door behind him. You three watched him warily as he eyed you and your brothers.

“...Ya know, I approve,” after seeing your confused looks, he chuckled and spoke again. “I approve of you three fuckin em up. I heard part of your conversation, and those snot nosed brats deserve it for what they did to my favorite niece.”

You three stared at him with shock, making him laugh at you. “Close your mouths, you’re gonna catch flies.” He paused for a second before leaning towards you and whispering “now, you didn’t hear it from me, but the key to a good punch is following through with it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t tuck your thumb in, that’ll break it. Make sure you center your hit on your index and middle fingers, they are the strongest points of the hand. If you need to, go for the eyes, nose, and groin.”

“I-thank you Uncle Schlatt. I really appreciate it. Just- please don’t tell dad?”

“Of course not! I mean, if you don’t fuck em up enough I will. (Y/n), when you’re done, I want details.”

You saluted sarcastically, “yessir, will do!”

He gave a boisterous laugh, “you better. Now go get ready.” 

As he was about to walk out of the room, he suddenly paused and his hand shot to his pants pocket. He pulled something out before putting it into your hand and turning again to walk out of the room. “This is from Tubbo and Tommy. They were worried about you.” In your hand laid three of your favorite candies. You felt your heart swell at their innocent, caring natures. They were honestly some of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met. 

“Well boys, you get first pics!” You held out the candy to them.

Wilbur looked at you with knitted eyebrows, “but they gave those to you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten through that panic attack without you guys helping me, so take this as a temporary thank you.” You watched as they glanced at each other before reaching out to grab a piece of candy.

“Alright, I’m gonna go get ready, you guys can take the bathroom before me. Love you guys!”

You went into your room and made sure your curtains were closed before turning to your closet. Humming in thought, you picked out a white button up and the nicest sweater you owned. You put on the collared button up then slipped the sweater on over it so that the collar poked out of the neck. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, feeling more confident in yourself than you’ve felt since you started hanging out with them. Fuck them, they always lied to you. You looked great in anything you put on. You felt elated and basked in the spectacular feeling of being able to like what you wore. 

While you waited for your brothers to leave the bathroom, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your contacts before you stopped on one: Haley’s. The girl that stole your heart and relentlessly stomped on it until it was a red puddle at her feet. Despite the pain, you still loved her. She was your everything. Your thumb hovered over her icon, contemplating on texting her. You had to tell her that she didn’t have to worry about her pictures anymore. 

(Y/n)

Haley

I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I have good news

You don’t have to worry about your pics anymore

I took care of it.

You don’t have to reply to this

Just know that I took care of it and you don’t have to worry about it anymore.

You sat on your bed staring at your phone screen waiting for her to open your messages. You stared at the ‘delivered’ icon at the bottom of your message, waiting for it to say ‘read’. You stared for about ten minutes before you gave up, putting your phone in your pocket and standing up with a sigh. She would see it eventually. Just as you reached your door, you felt a vibration in your pocket. You whipped out your phone and smiled at Haley’s face on your screen. She was calling you. 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you clicked the answer button, “hey Hales.”

“(Y/n), what’d you do?”

“I took care of it. That’s all you have to know.”

“I think I should know more. What’d you do?”

You paused for a moment before you hesitantly said, “I asked them to delete your pictures and they have to, it’s part of our deal.”

“...You found out who they were?”

“Yeah, but that’s not important. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“(Y/n), don’t tell me what to worry about. Who are they?”

“...Fine, it was Adrian Schnieder, Annie Lockhart, and Sammy McConnor. Ya know, you’re scary when you’re mad Hales. Remind me not to get on your bad side again.”

“It was them? You hang out around them all the time, I thought you were good friends. Why would they do that?”

Even though she couldn’t see you, you shrugged. “I dunno. I think they were just jealous. They’re assholes and I can’t believe I haven’t noticed it a lot sooner. I’m sorry they put you through that, you didn’t deserve what they did to you.”

“God (y/n),” she sighed out, you imagined that she was running a hand through her hair. “I can’t imagine how much that hurt you. You four were really close.”

“I know, but it was a long time coming. Like I said, I should’ve noticed that it was them. They’ve always been toxic as hell.”

“How’d you find out? What happened?”

“Did you hear about what they did to me yesterday?”

“Should I? If you’re not comfortable talking about it, that’s totally okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re gonna hear about it eventually, shit spreads like wildfire at Klinkver. Long story short, they outed me to the entire school and thought that I was only friends with them to get in their pants. They basically told me to kill myself,” you added nonchalantly. “But that’s not the important part about this. They told me that they were the people that took those pictures of you.”

“...(Y/n), how could you say that’s not important! They fucked up your life and all you care about is my pictures? What’d they say they’d do with yours?”

“I asked them to not leak them until after the match tonight so you could have the spotlight. You deserve it after all the hard work you’ve put in to get team captain. Zuri was hard to beat and you deserve the recognition for that.”

You heard her take a deep breath through her nose, “(y/n), for once in your life care about yourself over others. You’re gonna be exposed to the entire school and it bothers me that you’re being so nonchalant about that.”

“They’ve put me through worse. Besides,” you wove a hand in the air, “it’ll all blow over sooner or later when another person gets their nudes leaked. You remember how fast people forgot about Marlene’s nudes when May’s got leaked like a week later.”

“Still, it’s degrading to have people see you like that. No matter how fast they get over it, it doesn’t change the fact that they’ve seen you. You can’t come back from that sweetheart.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname. Even if she called almost everybody that, you felt special. “I don’t care if people see my boobs, it wasn’t even a clear picture anyways. It was hella blurry.”

Your door swung open for the second time today. There stood Tommy, his eyes peering innocently at you. “Dad wanted me to tell you to hurry up.”

You smiled at him, “thank you buddy. Let him know I’ll be down in a minute. Oh, and thank you for the candy, it really made me happy.”

He beamed brightly before he sprinted down the stairs. “Was that Tommy? Is he gonna be at the match tonight?”

“Of course, he and Tubbo are our team’s mascots after all. They would never miss a game, especially our final match.”

“I can’t wait to see them, but we need to talk about this. It’s more serious than you paint it as. How are you not pissed at those dumbasses? You trusted them and they betrayed you.”

“Oh, believe me I’m furious. Heh, I’m actually kinda shaking right now because of how pissed I am. But for now, I’m just gonna imagine their faces on the ball so I can keep my mind off them until tomorrow.”

“...Please don’t tell me you’re gonna do something stupid tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t call it stupid per se, they deserve it for what they put you through. It’s more getting justice than being stupid.”

“(Y/n), I swear to god if you start a fight just to get back at them for me, I’m gonna slap you. Think about yourself every once and a while, they put you through so much. If you feel comfortable, you’re gonna tell me everything they did to you tonight on the bus coming home.”

“So we’re gonna sit together?” You tried and failed to stomp the hopeful tone from your voice.

Her laugh sounded angelic in your ear, “of course we are silly, you’re my best friend. I gotta go, my dad’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later!”

“See ya!” When you hung up, you danced around your room with joy. You- no, they- didn’t ruin your friendship with Haley after all! Oh, you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest with joy. Even if she didn’t like you like you adored her, you still cherished your friendship. Looking back, Haley and the team always had your back, they genuinely cared about you. They were perhaps the only ones you would fully trust in the future. 

“(Y/N), HURRY UP YOU’RE GONNA BE LATE!” Tommy’s voice outside your door shook you from your happy dance. “Coming!”

You ran to the bathroom and hastily went through your routine. Despite your rushing, you tried your best to look presentable. You were going to prove those snakes wrong, you were beautiful no matter what you wore or how you looked.

After running down the stairs with your bag, your dad stopped you before you could run out the door with your keys. “You look nice today hun.”

“Thanks Dad, I just wanted to dress up a bit for finals today. I’m honestly really pumped to play tonight.”

“That’s good,” he smiled at you before pulling you into a quick hug. “Just take it easy today, you need to save your energy for the match tonight... Listen, I don’t know what happened to you this morning and I don’t know exactly what’s going on in your life right now, but just know that I’m always gonna be here for you. Whether you need help with homework, advice, or if you want me to beat up someone else’s dad for you,” he chuckled, “I’ll do it.” 

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, happy with the contact. You two stood in the hall for a moment before he pulled away and told you to leave for school. 

The drive to the school was uneventful with your brothers mainly holding up the conversation. As you pulled into the parking lot, you realized that you needed to catch up on two full days of stats homework.

“Hey Tech?” He hummed, looking over to you.

“Sorry, but would I be able to maybe copy your stats notes from Tuesday?”

“Yeah, I’ll give em to you so you can copy it before school starts. We’d have to go to Mr. Mullins for yesterday’s notes though. We can just ask him about it before school starts.”

As you pulled into a space and moved to leave the car, a hand stopped you. “(Y/n), if any of those two-faced bitches bother you at all, let us know. Don’t deal with this on your own, we’re here for you,” Wilbur said genuinely.

“Yeah, if they say anything bad about you, it’s on sight.”

You laughed, “thanks guys, I’ll let you guys know if they do anything. We gotta get going though if Tech and I wanna get those notes done.”

In the school, you and Techno successfully got your notes done before the first bell rang. The rest of class went by without a hitch with you actually somewhat understanding mostly everything being taught. You even got a question right when you were called on! Turns out not feeling weighed down by toxic people helps a lot with concentration.

The only block you were dreading was the second block. You were sure that if you even glanced at Annie and Adrian, you’d go apeshit on them. Luckily for them, they didn’t show up to class today. They were probably comforting Annie after you “manipulated” her, you thought with an eye roll. Today was just another work day, so you pulled out your laptop and opened Google Docs. You saw Annie’s and Adrian’s unfinished and you were slapped in the face with inspiration. 

They were still expecting you to finish their essays, so you were gonna finish them alright. You were going to completely rewrite their essays all about how they were terrible homophobes and how LGBT+ people are always facing some form of discrimination amongst their peers, complete with attached screenshots of them calling you slurs over text. You’d even write a little note at the beginning that would tell your teacher that they didn’t write this, but they made you write it so you deserved the credit for it. You didn’t care that this would take a while, the satisfaction that you would get would be worth it. This was going to completely screw up their grades, this essay was worth twenty five percent of your overall grade. Mr. Todd was really laid back, so he only had a few rules in the classroom. First was to respect your classmate’s time and work, second was to clean up after yourselves, and third (“the most important one” he said on the first day of school) was that he would never tolerate racism, sexism, transphobia, or homophobia in his classroom. Your masterpieces you were writing would definitely earn them a failing grade, a good scolding from Mr. Todd, and maybe a visit to the principal’s office. This would be first in a long line of gifts you have in mind for them. 

At lunch, you were slightly stumped as to where you should sit. You didn’t really know anybody in your lunch period, so you just sat at the empty table Adrian, Annie, and Sammy left for you today and ate while working on your masterpieces. Finding sources was extremely easy for you, you remembered doing extensive research about discrimination when you first found out that you weren’t the straight girl you thought you were. Luckily for you, you still had the old Google Doc full of sources you wanted to save for later. Thank you, freshman you. 

Third and fourth block went by relatively quickly, you completely finished the work in both classes with plenty of time left for you to continue typing up the essays. You had gotten Adrian’s completely done and Annie’s thesis written. Oh, revenge is sweet. You weren’t even done with what you had in store for them. 

You had their parent’s phone numbers and you got Adrian’s boss’ number from Marlene, who worked with him as a waitress. Annie’s parents were total sweethearts that would be absolutely fuming if you showed them what she said to you. You weren’t sure about Adrian’s or Sammy’s parents, but you were going to send them screenshots anyways. If Adrian’s parents were as bigoted as he was, you still had his boss to fall back on. You could email the screenshots to the principal and the athletic director so that you could have something to rely on if Sammy’s parents had the same beliefs as she did. She valued cross country more than everything, so you could fuck that up for her. Revenge never tasted so sweet to you before, it felt like you were high with how giddy you were. Techno and Wilbur were going to love this. 

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@immadatmostthings  @thaticecreambish  @hee-hee-haw  @dearnataliealoveletter  @wasteofspacze  @dcml04  @bbigbbrainn  @dirtydiavolo  @vanhakirja  @rinzyx05  @misselsbells06  @ialexabsuniverse  @im-a-depressed-gay  @energy-drinkk  @mothra-main  @i-need-hugs  @dragons-lurk-here  @katj733  @m4r-s  @vievi  @dykeragee  @waterstrawberry  @aplaintart  @kakamiissad  @myunfinishedsymphony  @nagitokinnieissad  @autumnpleaves  @justanothergirlwithdemons  @zachariethememerie  @moon-asia  @m0on-blue  @strawberrysodababy  @akikko-yataro  @haikkeiji  @shiningsunrises  @cinnamonmochi  @queen-turtle-boiii  @imanewsoul  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelicaschuyler-church  @vixenfoxpup  @ella-ivanov  @shio-yuki  @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks  @sugarandspicebutnonice  @coolayee  @haikkeiji  @sadassflatass

@a-simp-for-block-people  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @laura--444  @sylumarts  @faceache111  @auroraskyfall  @kusuinko  @http-issaclahey  @angelic-scent  @multifandomgirl94  @mirios-sunflower  @lifestylesleep  @altwitchtrash  @queenbouncingjelly  @eieminia  @livie-bug82108  @cheybaee  @demure--daisy  @midnight-storm  @moonbaejpeg  @kiinokochii  @miavfx  @vilbur-s00t

[notasiren21]

It'd be interesting to see phantom!luka

(WIP spoiler under line)

So this one is angst filled and somewhat modern age mixed with like not modern age. It differs from what the actual story of Phantom of the Opera is because I wanted to do something inspired but original, and also something that I felt both characters could easily fit into.

So to summarize the characters:

Luka- sole survivor of the Couffaine Theatre incident that took the lives of his mother and sister. His father is still famous but unaware his son is still alive and has also been suffering in grief. He was scarred and went from being a shy yet handsome teenage boy that captured the audience while on stage to a 23 year old young man that lives with survivor’s guilt and distrust to the majority. He’s embodied the flames of the theatre by having Master Fu (a wandering soul that lives to lend a helping hand) tattoo black smoke over his scars that are sporadic across his body. One of his eyes is partially blind with vision of looking through a cloudy haze in it from the incident. He sees himself as a monster when he’s nothing of the sort and finds Marinette to be an angel. He believes himself to be a creature of the night with a mask and secrets.

Marinette- a 21 year old looking for her art to mean something when she comes back from studying abroad and decides to restore Couffaine Theatre- a place she fell in love with as a child and that gave way to her seeing her first crush ever on stage. Being one of the youngest and most successful designers to Gabriel Agreste, she has the funds to kickstart the project to try bringing her idea to fruition. Her only issues is how the son of Agreste, infamous playboy and entrepreneur, Adrien, works his way into her head and makes her swoon for his flirtations, only to realize she’d rather throttle him every time he leaves. She’s often seen as a push over by her friends and those supposedly close to her. She finds Luka living like a creature in the shadows of his pain and grief and brings him into her world to help restore his family’s legacy so he can move on from his pain- unaware she’d fall for him a second time.

Phantom!Luka

——————————————————————————

“They all just use you, no?” The hand that slips forth to hold her chin makes her nerves quake.

Agreste had done the same just recently, before he left her and she snuck her way down to the abyss of the theatre once more.

Luka’s hand stays on her: a gentle feel that sweeps up to tuck some hair behind her ear. There’s care and adoration in his touch, in his gaze. For the briefest of moments, she wonders why she lets herself get swept up in how Agreste regards her when the phantom of the abandoned theatre is far more invested and kind to Marinette.

Luka holds and lets her feel. Adrien merely chucks under her chin like a flirt.

The realization of how the two differ from the other almost makes her wish she didn’t need the Agreste family fortune to help rebuild the shell of Couffaine Theatre.

Like the phantom he is, Luka lulls her attention so all she can think and feel is him. Her eyes never stray from any part of him.

The crisp button ups she’s brought him to replace his tattered clothes and thread-worn favorites. The suspenders that stretch up and across his chest oh so painfully right. The fitted pants and converse.

Moonlight seeps in through an uncovered window, catching on his piercings, and her knees shake.

“You’re beautiful,” she responds instead, watching a creature of pain and nightmares go rigid and half his face break into vulnerability. His laugh is hollow and shakes her to the core.

“Angel, I’m the picture of chaos and neglect. Don’t confuse me for a beautiful nightmare.” He turns his back on her, his mask seeming to glow brightly in the dark from the moon.

He fusses with music sheets she helped him uncover in a destroyed room. Fingers itch to play them and drown out the voices in his head telling him he should kiss her until she’s swaying in his arms and underneath him in his bed, reaching for him with those stars in her eyes. He forces them out with a reminder of what he looks like now. His years of hiding, shy of a decade, scarring him emotionally and physically, he’s not sure he’d ever be worthy of her.

She reaches for him this time. Small hands turning his face, drawing their eyes together. Deep sea blues meet one ocean and one cloudy sky. He doesn’t like her to see his damaged eye, he always standing half in the dark to cover that portion of his face. He’s half blind there, seeing the world through a haze in his right eye.

But he can make out her face this close. The lashes of his own wanting to flutter from her touch.

“You’re not the theatre. You’re not a creature to be hidden and locked away, to be feared. Should I be frightened of you?”

His sudden stillness is answer enough.

“I’ll bring you back to the real world. I’ll care for you like you’ve been missing since you were a teenager. I’ll help you show the people how strong you’ve been without them.”

His eyes well up, they burn and sear his skin with tears. He can’t remember the last time he cried from something other than pain and grief.

He startles out of his shock when he hears something clatter to the floor, his world slowed as he looks down to see the mask he had so carefully broken to shield half his face.

Luka thrashes against her, shouting and trying to break her grip without hurting her. He hates how comforting her touch is within that moment, how it could unravel him and expose his fears.

His calves hit the edge of his bed, Luka tumbling down with Marinette following with him, straddling his thighs. It’s just as well, isn’t it? This is what he’s been wanting to have with her- intimacy and vulnerability, the connection and trust. And now she’s trying to give it to him and he’s still stuck in his past. He’s the one that can’t look at himself beyond anything other than a monster who’s been living in secret when the world thought he was dead like his family.

The falling prop tree that hit the right side of his face during the fire had doomed him from the start. It changed the course of his whole life. He was one of the Couffaine twins that France cooed at for his beauty and talents. He and Juleka brought people to the theatre with promises of them getting to see the siblings act and perform.

But those burning branches hit along his jaw and cheek, a stray touching his eye enough to hurt his sight.

He wants Marinette. He desperately wants the angel that came to him with promises to fix his family’s theatre and restore it. He wants to believe she’ll love him and see him for the person he’s been this whole time and not the phantom that rumors say lived in the ruined building.

He wants to believe she could truly love him, enough to show the world.

Luka looks like a boy as he tries twisting his body to crawl his way out of her, but the tightening of her thighs against him wretches a cry laced with a moan out of him and renders him helpless. He doesn’t fight when she turns him onto his back once more, but he can’t meet her gaze, flinching and screwing his eyes shut when she gasps at his full face.

The scars are hidden under black smoke he has tattooed onto his face, but she can see the slight swells of raised skin, the burn parts he had scraped off to try and feel like his old self. The tattoo disappears near his hairline at his temple, black suiting black perfectly, it’s like it was all planned.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He sobs, perfect teeth clenching together and baring themselves as he wills himself not to scream. Dimples she’s only seen a few times are tragic to see as tears slide and pool in the divets of his cheeks. “You’re still perfect, Luka.”

His eyes flutter open, head lolled to the side and his shirt pulling taut over his chest from the deep breaths that she can feel rattle within him. His stare is pained as he looks out at the room he’s made for himself under the stage of the theatre.

“You were never a liar, Marinette.” His voice is rough, words scratching at his throat and cries being swallowed down that he can barely breathe. “Don’t start now.”

She pulls at his hand and he tries to yank it back, hoping that she’ll see reason and realize he’ll only hold her back in life if she chooses him. He can’t be selfish. He can’t hold onto her forever. But she pins him instead and his naive heart beats wildly thinking maybe she can win in this battle. He desperately wants her to win and convince him that he can be a part of her real world.

That he doesn’t have to be a secret lurking within the shadows, masked and guarded.

Luka lets her take his hand, feels it placed above her chest and a steady beat buzz into his fingers. He looks at her, the color of his eyes making her gaze soften. A harsh swallow and he’s shifting his hand upwards, feeling her heart beat into his palm.

It’s calmer than his own, a few erratic beats here and there, but it makes his seem childishly nervous. “You’re calm.”

It’s all he can say, all his mind is letting him focus on because if he lets his thoughts stray further, it’ll send him off the deep end to realize that his angel who has been plaguing his dreams and awakening his love for music, the descendant from heaven herself who came to help him restore his family’s legacy and accepted him into her life, is on top of him.

Sea eyes staring down at him with everything he believes he doesn’t deserve, plush thighs squeezing around his hips so perfectly, a strong grip in such a small hand around his wrists.

“I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” he lies through his teeth easily. But she sees the way his jaw clenches, feels the jump of a pulse where her hand grips his wrist.

“You sometimes tease that I might be a dream, right?” He shifts his eyes to her, seeing nothing but acceptance and warmth in her own, and suddenly his face feels normal, his tainted vision doing nothing to deter him from how she looks the more he lets himself watch her. He nods slowly and his breath catches as she leans forth, hot air brushing against his ear.

“Angel…”

“Then treat me like I’m your dream.”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Season 16 (Part 1)

Summary: After being captured by Michael while Dean was under his control, the reader has spent a very long time locked away waiting for someone to come and find her. When the day finally comes that the door opens, it’s not a familiar face she’s greeted with. Somehow the impossible is standing right in front of her but there’s no time to think about that. Something is terribly wrong and the reader needs the help of this strange young man if she wants to stop what Michael’s put in motion and have a chance at seeing Dean alive again...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Free Space

Word Count: 3,600ish

Warnings: language, SPN season 15 and series spoilers, injury, mention of main character deaths, mention of torture, angst, fluff

A/N: This series takes place post season 15 and follows canon (i.e. if it happened in the show, it happened in this story’s universe). This series is told between the reader and Dean’s POV. This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story bingo!

________

Reader’s POV

You just about had a heart attack when the door opened. It’d been such a long time since it’d been opened. Years and years and years. You’d lost track of the days quickly but it was long enough for you to accept that it’d been a very long time. Long enough to accept that when Michael took over Dean and threw you down in the windowless little room, Dean didn’t win that fight.

The only thing keeping you going aside from the spell Michael had put up to keep you permanently trapped, body stuck in time, was the desire to save Dean. Or what was left of him. You’d been alone for years, body having taken a beating by Michael when he first captured you. You were still covered in bruises, broken ribs that wouldn’t heal, pain in every breath. You didn’t sleep, didn’t eat. Solitude, cut off from the world, that was your main form of torture. Dean though...who knew what hell he was going through trapped with a psychopath like that for all these years.

You readied yourself, a dark figure walking inside the room. The room was pitch black to a certain point before you were trapped under a bright light you’d yet to figure out how to turn off. The figure stopped as their feet hit the brightness, a pair of brown boots and slim dark jeans all you could make out. They mumbled something and you felt the air shift slightly. You dared to reach at hand out to where the invisible wall keeping you trapped had been.

Your hand waved right on through it and you suddenly felt cool, clean air hit you. The person jolted when you sprang up, running away as you bolted for the door. You followed them up a flight of stairs and straight out into the foyer of a very nice house. You could see it was a man now and tackled him, straddling his hips and grabbing your knife from your waistband of your loose shorts, holding it to his throat. He breathed hard as you stared at him, cocking your head.

He was the spitting image of Dean. Mostly. His eyes weren’t green and there was something about his nose that reminded you of your own. The biggest tell of all though was the genuine fear in his face, the confusion. 

“What’s your name,” you said. You held up the knife for a moment and tucked it away when you saw he was only focused on it. The young man, no more than twenty years old, took a deep breath. You yelped when he threw his legs up and wrapped them around your waist, yanking you off of him. He scrambled to his feet but you were on his tail, grabbing at his jacket. He spun around and popped you in the face, sending you to the floor.

You whined and cupped your cheek, the young man frozen in the doorway with a horrified look on his face.

“Who punches their own mom!” you shouted. He ran out the door and you went after, growling at your bare feet as he took off down the gravel driveway. “I’m gonna find you!”

You stomped your foot on the cool concrete front path, glancing to your right and spotting a sports car. You jogged back inside and found a pair of women’s sneakers, a little too big but you tied them tight and found some keys on a front table. 

About two minutes later you were pulling up beside the guy on the road and hopped out of the car, the man running into the nearby treeline. You pulled out your knife and threw it, catching his jacket and pinning the sleeve to the tree trunk. He stumbled and fell down as you walked over, staring up with wide eyes. You sighed and ran a hand over your face. 

“Can you at least tell me your first name?” you asked. He shook his head and you crossed your arms. “I bet your name is Lyle, isn’t it.”

“How’d you know that?” he asked, voice a bit higher than Dean’s but it made you smile, something warm and familiar to it.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think recently. Lyle is my top name for a boy if I ever had one,” you said. “So. Lyle Winchester.”

“That’s not my name,” he said. He stood up and pulled out the knife, carefully holding it out to you.

“You look just like Dean and me. You’re my son...somehow,” you said.

“Fine. My name is Lyle and that’s all I can say about myself,” he said. “I’m serious.”

You recognized the tone, that edge to it, the roughness but laced with an undercurrent of worry. Part of you wanted him to tell you everything about him but you knew he couldn’t, instead letting yourself give him a simple nod.

“I’ll make you a deal Lyle. I won’t ask questions about you that you can’t answer if you tell me how and why you got me out of there and answer anything else I want to know about this little situation.”

“Or else what?” he scoffed.

“Or else someday when you’re a teenager I won’t let you do anything. Lyle.” You took the knife from him and put it away, taking a deep breath. You stepped back out to the road, leaning against the car. You shut your eyes, something heavy draped over you. You peeled one eye open, Lyle leaning back against the car next to you in a blue flannel and dark gray t-shirt. His black hooded jacket was over your shoulders and you slipped your arms through the sleeves, wrapping them around yourself. You squeezed your eyes tight, shuddering before warm arms embraced you, Lyle almost as tall as Dean holding you close to him. “How did you know I was down there?”

“I can’t answer that,” he said.

“What year is it?” you asked.

“2089.” You froze, staring up at him. “Well, 2089 where we are right now is.”

“Lyle. It was 2018 when Michael took me. That’s not possible.”

“I can’t answer that either.” Tears welled up in your eyes and he hugged you again. “Sorry.”

“Dean was thirty nine the last time I saw him and it’s seventy one years later? He is dead. Sam is dead. They’re all dead so explain to me how the fucking hell I have a son with Dean!” you shouted. You pushed him away and ran your hands over your face. “Years. Fucking years I’ve sat down there waiting for him to come and get me. Him or Sam or someone. Fucking seventy one years!”

“Y/N,” he said, sounding a bit awkward but he cleared his throat. “I can’t answer everything because I don’t know everything. But I exist and that should tell you something.”

You wiped off your face with his sleeve and looked around, turning back and staring at him.

“I’m at the start of whatever this is and you’re way down the line,” you said. He nodded with a slight smile.

“I don’t understand it but this, where I’m from, this has already happened to you.”

“You’re from the future then,” you said.

“Not exactly,” he said. 

“A different universe?” He looked at you like you were nuts and the air shifted, Lyle freezing. You turned and saw Jack, a smile on his face. “Jack?”

“Hi Y/N,” he said. He stepped over and gave you a big hug, a little bit of ache inside you easing finally. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just on pause.”

“Jack I don’t understand fucking anything. What’s going on?” you asked. He pursed his lips and sighed.

“Well you already figured out Lyle is your and Dean’s son. I didn’t think I could slip that one past you. But it had to be him that came and saved you.”

“Why?”

“Dean’s in heaven. Has been for 69 years.” You broke away from him feeling like you’d had a punch to gut and making you breathless. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that with the whole decades worth of trauma thing happening right now.”

“Did Michael…” you trailed off.

“No. A piece of rebar on a vamp hunt,” he said.

“He what?” you said.

“Yeah got pushed back on it. Sam was okay though. Oh and Dean had a dog for a few months.”

“Dean fucking died from that? That’s what kept him down?” you said. Jack nodded and you looked down, blinking your eyes. “Disregarding what is going on in my head right now about that, why didn’t you heal him? Or Castiel?”

“Well Cas was in heaven helping me rebuild after he sort of died and I brought him back. I kinda am the new God,” he said with a smile.

“I’m proud of that but again, why didn’t you come down here and heal Dean?”

“I’m sort of hands off in that regard,” he said. You were about to go off on him for that when it hit you.

“Jack how long have you known I was alive,” you said. 

“2020 when I took over, I got these extra-”

“You knew I was alive and  left me in a hole in the ground for over seventy years?” you said. 

“Like I said, I’m hands off,” he said. 

“I was your fucking mom! I took care of you! I protected you! I almost died for you more than once and when you find out I’m still alive you say fuck that bitch, she can deal with it on her own? What the fuck is wrong with you!” you shouted. You slapped him in the face, Jack pouting as you sank down to your knees. “I want Dean.”

“Y/N.”

“I want Dean and Sam.”

“Y/N-”

“I want Dean!”

“I can’t-”

“Fuck you! You’re as every bit as evil as that devil father of yours after all,” you said. You forced yourself to your feet, tears prickling in his eyes. “Oh did I hurt your feelings? Tough fucking shit! Do you realize that I have not only been stuck waiting for years but my body got stuck too. I’ve been sitting with broken ribs for seventy years. Every single breath excruciating.”

You yanked up your shirt, deep purple and black skin radiating across most of your abdomen. Jack reached out a hand and you moved back, dropping your shirt.

“I thought you were hands off. I don’t want your-” you said before warmth trickled through you, the pain gone, body feeling so strange at being without it. 

“I don’t have to touch to heal you,” he said quietly. He swallowed and bowed his head. “I tried to let people live their lives without my interference and sometimes they’re messy but I’ve come to realize recently that’s wrong. A bit of help here and there is good. It gives people hope and maybe I should have done things different.”

“My family’s dead and I don’t want to wait around decades more to see them again in heaven. You’re going to-”

“No I won’t. Lyle’s life counts on you doing exactly what you’re supposed to as do your two other children’s. I can’t just put you in heaven. You can’t die right and you have to wait to see Dean until things work themselves out. Lyle’s going to be with you for a while and help get some things settled. It’s already set in motion so go with it,” he said.

“Jack I want Dean. Please,” you said. “Please Jack. Just five minutes.”

“Would you rather have your family back in the near future, alive, or would you rather have your and Dean’s souls torn apart and you never see him again, dead or alive? Rather he over there doesn’t exist? Rather no one exists?”

“I didn’t say that. Of course I would rather have them back alive-“

“Then be patient.”

“Jack. You gotta give me something. Something please.”

“I’ll talk to Lyle, tell him he can loosen up some. But I can’t tell you what to do. You have to follow your gut. Listen to Lyle and it’ll work out,” said Jack. You squeezed your eyes shut, Jack carefully resting a hand on your shoulder. “Do you hate me?”

“I hate that our family was ripped apart. I hate that you didn’t tell the boys I was alive once you knew. I hate that the last time I saw Dean alive we argued. I think what I hate most of all is that you treated us like everyone else. We’re not, Jack. We’re your family. All of us deserved a chance at normal and we didn’t get it.”

“Sam did.”

“How many years did Sam live without us? Without his brother?” you asked. Jack glanced down and you nodded. “You said you became God? Why didn’t you get rid of the monsters altogether Jack. Don’t tell me you don’t have that power.”

“I thought...I thought it was the natural order.”

“Yet you know there are other universes with no monsters at all. You could have taken the monsters away. Shit turn them human for all I care. The boys didn’t have to keep hunting after you took over. You could have been hands off and changed that one fact and saved so many lives, improved so many lives.”

“No. I couldn’t have changed it. Not back then.”

“Why the hell not?” you asked. He pulled his hand away and you found yourself in some clean clothes, Lyle’s jacket folded on top of the car.

“Because when I became God, I learned a lot. It sucks knowing that certain things have to happen and that I had to ignore when Sam prayed to me in that barn because things had to happen this way.”

“But why?”

“Because if I didn’t, if I’d intervened then and there, this universe, all of the ones I’ve been busy rebuilding, the way I’ve been rebuilding heaven...it’d be gone. Destroyed and I wouldn’t be able to put it back. It’s a temporary pain even if it doesn’t seem like it. So please, Y/N, please, listen to Lyle. Work with him. It’ll work out and things can be okay. You can have everything you ever wanted and more. You can have the freaking apple pie life and the no monsters and all of it but please understand you have more shit to go through first and whatever happens, do not let Lyle die.”

“He’s my son. I wouldn’t let that happen to him,” you said. Jack nodded and you grabbed his arm when he turned to leave. “You’ve grown up Jackie.”

“I’m still a baby by God standards,” he said.

“The guys take care of you after I was gone?” you asked. 

“Yeah. I missed you though,” he said. “I accidentally killed Mary and sort of lost my soul for a bit. Things got bad for a while.”

“Do you see Kelly in heaven sometimes? Mary?” you asked. He nodded and you smiled. “Kids can fuck up and your parents will forgive you.”

“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Y/N. If I could snap my fingers to fix it all, stop it from ever happening, I would.”

“I’m going to trust that it had to be this way,” you said. “But give me a ballpark figure here. When do I get the guys back?”

“That’s relative. You’re going to end up breaking the space time continuum so it’s hard to answer that correctly.” You stared at him and he shrugged. “Not too long. A few days at most. I promise.”

“Wait is that how we have a twenty year old son?” you asked.

“Yes. The next time you see Dean he’ll be younger than the last you saw him. Just trust your gut and Lyle. Next time I see you I hope things are much better,” he said. You opened your mouth but he disappeared. You shook your head and turned around, Lyle now wearing his jacket, standing closer to the passenger seat door. For a long while you both simply stared, Lyle looking as if he’d just had his own long conversation with Jack. 

“You can call me Y/N if that makes it easier,” you said. He nodded and you took a deep breath, going to the driver’s side. “So. What’s the next move?”

“Jack just said after I got you out we had to go to Lebanon. He didn’t tell me anything more than that,” he said.

“Any idea where we are?” you asked.

“San Antonio,” he said. “So we go North?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Mind taking the first shift driving? I sort of haven’t slept in like seventy years.”

“No that’s fine,” he said. He walked around the front and you made your way to the passenger side, climbing in and sighing. He got behind the wheel and took a deep breath. “You and dad run a construction business.”

“That’s nice,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Dean’d be real good at that kind of thing. He’s really smart.”

“I know. Most guys can’t call up their dad for help on their architecture homework,” he said. 

“You go to college?” you asked, Lyle nodding. “Do you know about...this stuff?”

“I’m still not convinced I’m not insane. I just got home on a friday night. We had dinner and everyone went outside to have a bonfire in the backyard. I went in to use the bathroom and Uncle Jack stopped me before I could get back outside. He said a lot of crazy stuff I didn’t believe but the fact you were in that basement...you and dad are only like forty but you’re obviously too old right now to have had me when that would have made sense and Uncle Jack said space and time is gonna break and-”

“Lyle,” you said, holding up a hand. “Relax. I just want to know, do you know what hunting is?”

“Dad doesn’t go hunting,” he said, narrowing his eyes. You smiled and nodded to yourself. “We don’t even own a gun.”

“I doubt that. But that must mean that something happens to the monsters along the way too.”

“What do you mean monsters? And why were you kidnapped in a basement? And what the fuck is going on? You’re supposed to be my mom that runs the family business and you kick ass in your soccer league in the summer and you can’t cook to save your life and that’s okay cause you’re really good at baking and pies and shit and I just don’t understand who you really are.” His face was flush, eyes fighting back tears. You smiled, reaching over and cupping his cheek.

“You’re a good guy Lyle. We obviously did something right,” you said, wiping away a stray tear that fell. “It’s scary. It’s really scary. I’m not your mom yet but I will be someday. I promise I will tell you everything you don’t know when I catch up to your time. Dean and I will. But we need to go to Lebanon and the faster we can go there and figure out what we have to do, the faster we can get you back home where you belong.”

“But can’t you-”

“This world isn’t safe, Lyle. It is very unsafe for a Winchester especially. Please drive now,” you said. You put on your seatbelt and he closed his eyes. “Please.”

“I was supposed to be having a smore right now,” he said.

“I know. But saving the world is kinda cool,” you said. 

“I don’t want to save the world. I want to go home and not see my mom be beat to shit. I want my dad to go back to teasing me at dinner and not being dead,” he said. 

“If we do this right, you can go back to that really soon. It hasn’t happened for me yet. We can talk all about this when you come back. The night you come back we can talk through it all. But we have to get going. The sooner we go, the sooner it goes back to normal.”

“It’ll never be normal again.”

“Yes it will. I promise.”

“How do you-“

“Because I just had this really bad thing happen to me but someday I’m going to have you and everything I ever wanted with Dean. So it sucks right now but it’ll be better eventually. I know it will. You’re here so I know it’ll be normal.” He nodded and wiped off his face, starting the car up again.

“Y/N. Are you okay after...you know...being down there beat up all that time?”

“Not really,” you said. He took off his jacket and handed it to you. You stared before he rolled his eyes, laying it over your front.

“Sleep. I can drive.”

“Lyle.”

“Y/N. Rest. It’s safe. I got this.”

“You take after your dad.”

“Take after someone else too,” he said. You smiled and nodded, resting your head on your shoulder, closing your eyes. “I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”

“Egg and-”

“Cheese on a biscuit, two breakfast burritos, extra hot sauce and a small hot latte.”

“At least my road trip order didn’t change,” you said, quickly relaxing and falling asleep for the first time in ages.

_______

A/N: Read part 2 here!

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Chapter Five: Paris Revealed (Stories/Memories)

Prev

AO3

Marinette flinches back as the room erupts in shouting. The younger boy, who was definitely younger than her and yet almost (if not definitely) taller than her, was fiercely glaring while he screamed at Mr. Wayne in….was that Arabic? The man that walked in with him was waving around the knife in his hand while Dick yelled at Mr. Wayne, his face filled with confusion instead of fury. Glancing around for a way out, Marinette makes eye contact with Alfred who nods behind him. Sneaking away from the group of angry men, Marinette follows Alfred into the kitchen and instantly feels at home. And much calmer.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbles, breathing deeply to avoid spiraling again. Alfred simply hands her a cookie before turning around and putting water in a kettle.

“There is no need to apologize, Miss Marinette. It seems Master Bruce has forgotten all sense today and is instead insistent on acting like a fool. It was wrong of him to announce you like that, without preparing you or the boys beforehand. I do hope that his atrocious display of proper manners doesn’t make you want to leave.” Alfred says, and Marinette’s eyebrows shoot upwards. Was he? Was Alfred actually blaming this situation on Mr. Wayne? Was it Mr. Wayne’s fault? Did he not actually hate her? Did he just make a mistake?

“I- what?” Marinette says, unsure of herself.

“You, my dear, are not at fault. Your father didn’t tell any of his sons that you were coming to the manor today, or that you existed in general. And judging by your face, you weren’t prepared for the boys to be here either.” Alfred clarifies.

“Oh. No, I wasn’t. Mr. Wayne just said that he wanted to get to know me, and he knew I wanted to get to know him. I- my birth mother passed away. But my Maman knew her, so I can find out from her how I’m similar to Bridgette. But neither of my parents knew Mr. Wayne, and I just wanted to know if I was like him, I guess. I didn’t even know who he was until two days ago.” Marinette admits.

“As in you found out Bruce Wayne was your birth father two days ago or-” Alfred trails off, waiting for her to clarify.

“Oh no. I found out the name of my birth father awhile ago. It’s just- I really don’t pay attention to celebrities. The only ones I really know are designers. So I didn’t put two and two together, and I didn’t even know about Bruce Wayne and Wayne Enterprises until a few days ago. My friend Adrien made me google him and that’s when I found out about...the boys.” She says, stopping herself from saying her brothers as she was still unsure if Mr. Wayne actually wanted her like he wanted the others.

“Well I’m certain that things will start to calm down shortly. In the meantime, would you care for some tea?” Alfred asks, holding up the kettle. Marinette nods gratefully, trying hard to stop her inner spiral from drowning her.

---

“What do you mean daughter?” Damian snarls, finally switching to English. Bruce blinks at the boy before sighing.

“I mean, you have a biological sister.” He says, tired and wishing he had been able to convince Marinette to go somewhere else. Not that he didn’t want her to meet her siblings. But it definitely wasn’t the laid back first meeting that he wanted.

“You mean half-sister.” Damian spits out, crossing his arms and sticking his nose into the air.

“Shut up, Demon Spawn. She’s our sister, get over it. Where’d the kid come from? Her mom drop her off?” Jason asks, obviously trying to actually understand the situation.

“No. I first met her at the Museum and had my suspicions. She’s in Gotham on a class trip, and before you ask, yes. We had a DNA test done and yes, I am her father.” Bruce says, frowning when he sees Dick’s hurt expression morph into one of excitement.

“Wait, wait, wait! Was she the girl who was sassing the Joker?” He asks quietly, practically buzzing with excitement. When Bruce nods, Dick cheers and runs from the room. Okay then.

“Wait, she met the Joker?” Jason asks, his expression turning dark. Bruce watches his son’s face morph into one of disgust when he puts it together. “She’s the French kid he had at gunpoint, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Which is one of the reasons why we both thought the manor would be a more appropriate meeting place rather than somewhere public.” Bruce says, sighing as Damian once again starts screaming. This was not what he had planned.

---

After just a few minutes with Alfred, Marinette already felt calmer. Calm enough to giggle at another story about something that one of the boys- one of her brothers- did. Calm enough to let her guard down. And mess up.

“If you wanna see something ridiculous, you should look up the 26th time Monsieur Ramier was akumatized into Monsieur Pigeon. He made all the buildings turn into bird cages and all the food turned into bird seed. Luckily it didn’t last long, but seeing the Mayor of Paris stuck inside a giant bird cage was kind of hilarious.” Marinette rambles, giggling at the memory. It was definitely a needed akuma, situated right between two super destructive akumas. Monsieur Pigeon was, while a nuisance, always a breath of fresh air. His akumatized form was brought on by his fierce protectiveness of the pigeons, which luckily never led to death for civilians.

“Pardon me, Miss Marinette, but could I ask what you mean by ‘akumatized’?” Alfred asks, his posture suddenly stiff. Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. She told someone outside of Paris about the situation happening in Paris. Well crap. Normal Parisians didn’t know about the media block that she had set up with the help of the Mayor and Max. But after her calls to the Justice League were ignored, and she realized how disastrous it would be for a member of the League to be akumatized, the media block was the best choice. Time to act clueless.

“Akumatized, as in, a person is possessed by an akuma? Surely you’ve heard of it. It’s been happening in Paris for almost two years.” She says, hoping he doesn’t ask to see any evidence. This isn’t good, this is awful, this-

“And what is an akuma?” Alfred asks. Okay, this isn’t too bad.

“It’s an evil butterfly sent out by the villain, Hawkmoth.” Marinette says, giving out more information than she’s really comfortable with. Okay, time to change the subject, no more questions about heroes or villains or-

“Marinette!” A new voice calls, sliding into the kitchen, almost immediately falling over.

“Master Dick, have you forgotten about your ban on the kitchen?” Alfred asks, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Awww, Alfred, I just wanted to talk to Marinette. I feel bad for all of us overwhelming her back there.” Dick says with a pout that somehow doesn’t look ridiculous on him. Despite obviously being at least ten years older than her.

“Don’t feel bad. It was just...a lot all at once.” Marinette says with a small smile.

“So I have to ask, are you the one who sassed the Joker at the Museum the other day?” He asks, a wide grin on his face as he sits on one of the stools. Marinette’s eyes widen and she blinks. How?

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess. It wasn’t a big deal though. He thought I was a Wayne- well, I guess he figured it out before I did- but I think he just wanted to scare my class.” She says, waving her hand to brush off the topic. She really didn’t want to talk about the Joker. Because she was sure it would turn into-

“I apologize for asking, but have you been caught up in the villain attacks in Paris before?” Alfred asks, Marinette instantly panicking. Sure, she’d been caught up in almost every single akuma battle as Ladybug. But there were a few on record where she was targeted as Marinette, and even a few battles that she assisted as Marinette. And then there was Kwami Buster…

“Well, a few. But basically everyone in Paris has dealt with it at some point. That’s just what happens when there’s an attack so often, you know? And my school seems to be a hotspot but that makes sense because teenagers are full of negative emotions and-” Marinette cuts off her rambling, cursing herself on the inside. Great job, Mari. Now they’re going to be worried or they’re going to think you’re a freak or-

“What do you mean negative emotions? Why would that matter?” Dick asks, his previous cheerful smile replaced with a look that clearly meant business.

“That’s how the villain chooses his targets. Negative emotion. If someone is having a bad enough day, he can take control of them and give them powers and basically destroy the city trying to get to Ladybug and Chat Noir, who are our heroes. I only know what’s been posted on official sites like the Ladyblog or miraculousparis.org.” Marinette says, smiling apologetically and hoping that this conversation can be over.

“Have you ever been akumatized?” Dick asks, tension suddenly filling the room.

“No, thankfully. I’ve found ways to manage my negative emotions so that they can’t take me over. I don’t blame anyone who has been akumatized, it’s hard not to be. But, I also don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I was akumatized.” Because then her family would be a target. Because Hawkmoth would know her identity. And if Hawkmoth’s insistence on her being akumatized was anything to go on, she’d be a devastating akuma. And if Ladybug wasn’t fighting in the battle….would the cure even work?

“That is a lot of pressure, Miss Marinette.” Alfred says softly after a moment of tense silence. Marinette grins brightly.

“I can handle it, don’t worry!” She says, hoping no one can tell how hard it actually is. How hard it is constantly being strong. Never truly feeling a negative emotion.

---

Bruce winces at the faux cheerfulness in his daughter’s voice. He had only found out about the Paris situation a few days ago, but he was determined to fix it. Find a solution. Do something to help the city and by extension, his daughter. She’d be going back there soon. Back to a city that was being held hostage by an emotional terrorist. Bruce would fix this. He had to.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks