#Elderly Emotional Abuse

[evamadeln]

Elder abuse case in Nolensville [Video]

[alisonfelixwrites]

the deal - part 1/3 (*) [harry styles au]

//

part two, part three.

summary: in which harry & claire are both single parents and their kids are best friends in school. atlas & finn are six years old and want to hang out all the time even if their parents don't get along .... at first.

word count: 23,973

content warning: smut!! (not too much for my standards lol). mentions of drug use, single parenthood with neglect from the other parent, mentions of physical/emotional abuse

this one is also already on my wp (to be found under 'muse')!! but she deserved her own moment on tumblr because this is one of my faves ❤️

//

“Oh my god.” The voice of a distressed woman behind the wheel sounded through the car.

Claire pressed her hand down on the honk once more, “Fucking move!” She roared before swerving to the side, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The many curse words easily tumbled from her dry lips as she made her way through a part of town she hadn’t often driven through.

Her old Toyota stood out like a sore thumb between all the fancy cars of the fancy people who resided here in these fancy homes. She was sure that if they took one look at her, her Burger King outfit would stand out too against the bright blue of her old car.

“Why the fuck do you drive a Tesla when you don’t even know how to use it!” Claire continued shouting, making hand gestures to the other drivers. An elderly woman driving a BMW gave her a disgusted look and Claire simply rolled her eyes, speeding off now that the intersection had finally cleared a bit.

Her heart was hammering in her throat and her hands were tightly clamped around the wheel. With her cap still on her head, Claire hadn’t had the time to get changed once she noticed the many missed calls on her phone. She simply jumped into her car after her shift and drove like a maniac to try and keep the damage to a minimum.

Waze finally showed the place she had to be at, and she came to a screeching halt before clumsily driving up a massive driveway which held a Land Rover and an old Volkswagen Beetle. Claire jumped out of the car and rushed up to the front door, completely out of breath.

Jamming her finger on the doorbell over and over again, she noticed a set of lights being turned on in the hallway before the door was yanked open.

“I’m so sorry!” She immediately blurted out, being met with a man who shot her an angry and very judging glare. Claire couldn’t blame him. She had fucked up.

He towered over her, blocking the doorway to his house as Claire shifted on her feet. He took a quick glance at her outfit, “I take it you’re Claire Carter?”

“Yes.” She breathed, “Shit, I-I’m so sorry I’m so late.” She palmed her forehead, fatigue taking over. Her entire body ached after standing on her feet for so many hours, faking polite smiles at the customers who did nothing but treat her like shit. She reeked of fries and couldn’t wait to take a shower.

The man in front of her wore joggers and a casual, white shirt. He had a clip holding his brown hair away and some scruff on his jaw. The judging look he sent her made Claire wish the ground could swallow her whole. He eventually exhaled, “You’re the one who forgot her child at school?” The snide tone of his voice made Claire press her lips together.

She lowered her eyes and swallowed, “Look, I’m just here to pick up Atlas.” Her voice was softer now, “Where is he?”

“Inside.” The man nudged his head inside his house, “Playing with my boy.”

Claire nodded, “Right. You’re Finn’s dad, aren’t you? Atlas talks about him a lot."

“Yeah.”

Silence took over and Claire glanced into the hallway behind him, “So… Can you tell him I’m here? Or can I come in?” A hint of impatience laced her voice. It was already late and Claire knew the never ending amount of chores that were waiting for her at home. Not to mention she had to get Atlas to bed on time to not disrupt their entire weekend schedule.

“He’s a good kid, you know?” The man spoke, snapping Claire out of her thoughts. She flicked her eyes up at him before frowning softly, “I’m aware. I’m raising him.”

“No, like… He’s a good kid. Teacher was raving about him. I went in to pick up Finn and they were the only two left. The teacher was about ready to leave and she couldn’t reach you. She was about to call the police.”

Claire’s cheeks turned an embarrassed shade of pink as she swallowed. She was being lectured by this man, who clearly judged her for not being a decent parent and forgetting to pick up her child after school. Claire’s stomach turned, knowing full well she already wasn’t making a good impression with the people of Atlas’ new school. She was hardly ever there to drop him off or pick him up and had a sitter do those things. She had never even met most of the teachers or the other parents, which was very frowned upon at that school.

“I’d like to take him home now.” Claire repeated, her voice a little hoarse, “It’s late.”

“Wonder why.” He scoffed before sighing and turning around, “Finn!” He yelled into the house. Claire felt her bottom lip wobbling, attempting to recompose herself before the sheer look of disgust of this man brought her to tears.

She soon heard little footsteps running over the wooden floors of the house, which honestly was more of a mansion. Even when Claire felt like shit, the sight of her little boy with his shaggy blonde hair, cheered her up immediately. With a wide grin on her face, she crouched down, opening up her arms for him to jump into her.

“Hi, baby!” Claire squeaked, spinning him around as Atlas clung to her. He had some sort of stain on his shirt but Claire didn’t mind, holding his body close to hers. “Hi, mummy! I missed you today.” Atlas bubbled in response. Claire hummed before putting him down, already feeling the massive ache in her back, “I know, I missed you too.”

Her eyes then flicked to the boy standing in the doorway too, his dad having a protective hand on the top of his back. “Hi.” Claire smiled, holding out her hand, “You must be Finn.”

“Yes.” He timidly spoke, offering her a small smile. He shook her hand with little enthusiasm, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

“Yeah, ‘m Claire.” She smiled back before straightening up, “Well, thank you again. We should get going.”

“That your car?” Finn’s father nudged his head towards the blue Toyota and Claire exhaled, “Yes.”

“Hm.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes, “Have a good night.” She mumbled, not even waiting for his response. Atlas shouted a goodbye to Finn, waving excitedly before climbing into the passenger seat of the car. Claire checked her mirrors, avoiding the shocked eyes at all costs that her kid was getting in the front seat of the car.

Claire being the responsible parent she was couldn’t afford to fix the broken safety belts of the backseat, so Atlas drove up front with her. Backing out of the long driveway, she watched Finn and his father disappear back inside of the huge house.

“’M sorry, baby. Mum had to work late.” Claire yawned softly as they hit traffic again to drive home, “Did you have fun with your friend?”

“Yes, Finn’s really nice. A little quiet.” Atlas spoke. Claire hummed, “Are you hungry?”

“No! Harry made us dinner.”

“Harry.” Claire nodded, “That Finn’s dad?”

“Yes. He’s nice.”

Claire huffed and took a left, “Debatable.” She mumbled under her breath, not for Atlas to hear. The rest of the car ride was filled with Atlas’ babbles that Claire honestly loved. He spoke about nothing important most of the time but she loved hearing his voice and the way he saw the world, what observations he made. In her mind, she was already thinking about tomorrow though.

She had the Saturday-shift to cover too, so Atlas was spending the day with his father. The thought alone made Claire’s stomach clench but she tried to push it away. He deserved a shot at two parents and perhaps Evan really did deserve another chance to prove himself as a father.

The heavy door to the appartement hardly budged as Claire put her entire weight against it to open it up. The entire building shook as she did so, and she could tell the neighbours were listening to the news through the thin walls of this crappy building.

No one ever said it was this hard to be an uneducated, unsupported single mum.

With a heavy sigh, Claire ran her fingers through Atlas’ blonde whisps as he excitedly walked into their home. As always, both kicked off their shoes by the door and headed through the narrow hallway – passing both their bedrooms – towards the living area. Pizza boxes were on the counter from last night and Claire was glad Atlas had already eaten at his friend’s house because in all her haste, she even forgot to pick up groceries.

Ignoring the rumbling of her own stomach, she decided on a quick shower to feel fresh and clean again before snuggling up on the couch with Atlas to watch some of his favourite shows. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, refusing to go to sleep before her six year-old did.

Life was pathetic enough as it was.

She couldn’t shake the look of absolute judgement and despise she had received from Harry. Yes, she had forgotten to pick up her child after school. Yes, she had driven like a maniac and showed up at his door dressed in her Burger King outfit, hours late. Yes, they had been close on calling the cops on her.

But that didn’t make her a bad mother.

Claire sighed, gently stroking her fingers over Atlas’ forehead as he sucked on his thumb. It was a habit she tried to get him to shake, but simply didn’t have the energy to constantly point it out to him. He was too old to still be doing that, but part of Claire knew that even Atlas was traumatized from the shit he had witnessed as a baby and an infant.

It had taken Claire two years to get away from Evan and the past four years had been hell. And bliss at the same time.

She didn’t think she’d be a single mum at twenty-eight, making ends meet and having no savings to start something up. But Atlas was kind, fun and energetic. Now that he was a bit older, it was like having a mini-me. She could always talk to him and he was intelligent for his age, following along easily in the topics Claire spoke to him about. He was respectful albeit a little wild at certain times.

In his previous school they had called him a ‘wild child’ who ‘acted out because of the way his mother raised him’. Simply because he had learned the word ‘fuck’ from Claire and had yelled it out in class.

Once.

Claire thought she’d be done with the judgement, but after only a few weeks in his new school she could already sense it again. If not from the teachers, then definitely from the other parents. She was happy Atlas made friends so easily and that he was such an open, approachable kid, but she could really do without the critiques of the others.

It was on Monday that she saw Harry again.

After much whining from Atlas, Claire decided to drop him off at school herself for the first time. Along with all the other parents in line, she was crouched down in front of him to make sure everything was in his backpack for the day. She was parked with one wheel on the curb in front of a garage, so she really didn’t have much time.

Glancing around to check for police in the street, Claire hurried up and stuffed everything in his backpack, “There, you’ve got everything.”

“Thank you, mummy.” Atlas grinned. A dimple popped in his cheek, one of the things he inherited from Evan. Claire’s stomach turned at the memory. Another memory was the ache in her arm from the bruise she had there. A much more recent memory, from picking up Atlas on Saturday.

She wasn’t sure who had reacted worse to her being late for pick-up. Harry, who had stared her down and made her feel insignificant, or Evan, who had grabbed her and shoved her against the wall while yelling in her face.

“Good boy.” Claire proudly smiled, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You be good today, hm? Belle will be here to pick you up after school.”

Atlas’ face dropped, “Belle?” He pushed his bottom lip out into a pout, “Why not you?”

“I have to work, honey.” Claire sighed, “But I’ll be home for dinner.”

“But I don’t like Belle.” Atlas whined, “She stinks.”

Claire could feel a few pairs of eyes on her and rolled her lips inside of her mouth, “Well, that’s because she smokes so much. But I have to work, I’ve explained this to you.” Claire kept her voice down but Atlas whined louder, jutting out his lip, “But mummy!”

“Atlas.” Claire sternly whispered, shaking her head to him, “I’ll see you for dinner, end of discussion.”

He stared at the ground with a thick frown in his forehead, refusing to look at her, “Fuck.” He whispered.

Claire’s eyes widened, “Atlas! No,” She held up her finger, “you promised me you’d never say it again.” Her cheeks flamed up as the parents next to her had definitely heard that. Atlas shrugged while staring at the tips of his worn-out sneakers, “You say it all the time.”

“I’m an adult.” Claire sighed before scratching above her brow. Her hair was in a low bun and she wore jeans and a large hoodie, “Look, just go inside, hm? Class is about to begin, don’t want you to be late.”

Atlas didn’t look at her anymore, simply turned around and walked off. A lump formed in Claire’s throat as she watched him, and her hands fiddled with the sleeves of her jumper, “I love you! Have a good day!” She called after him, but he didn’t react. Exhaling a shaky breath, Claire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Hi!” She heard the voice from next to her, “Are you Atlas’ mum?”

Claire forced a smile, staring at the perfectly done make-up of one of the mums next to her, “Hi.” She nodded, “Yes, I’m Claire. Nice to mee you.”

“Hi, I’m Dolores.” The woman smiled back with her pearly white teeth, “One of my girls is in Atlas’ class. Betty.”

“Oh,” Claire raised her brows, “yeah, I think Atlas has mentioned her.”

Another mum joined the conversation, “So you’re Atlas’ mum, hm? We all thought it was that gothic sixteen year old.” She laughed, referring to Belle and her dark make-up and black clothes. Claire pressed her lips together, “No, that’s just his sitter. She lives in the building with us, so it’s easy.”

“Hm.” The third woman simply nodded, “Well, me and Dolores are off to have some coffee. Would you care to join?”

Claire forced a smile, “Thank you for the offer, but I have to get to work. It was nice to meet you.” She shot an awkward wave and turned around, stopping dead in her tracks when she near bumped into Harry. Claire was only eye level with his chest and shortly looked up, sending him a nod, “Hi.” She went to stride past him but Harry stopped her, turning around with her, “Nice outfit.”

She could hear the judgement in his voice and rolled her eyes before turning to face him, “Look, I could really do without all those comments of yours. I thanked you for looking after Atlas on Friday, there’s really no need for you to behave like that.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest while firmly keeping her feet on the ground. Harry wore a loose, grey cable knit jumper and some blue jeans that hung loosely around his legs. His hair was back in that little clip to keep it away.

The other mums were out of earshot and Harry frowned, taking a step closer to Claire, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She stood her ground although her voice wavered, “I know you think you’re better than me. And you probably are. Sue me for working a lot so I can provide for my kid. Sometimes it happens that I lose track of time or that I cover a shift. ” She bit before turning around and stomping off.

Harry watched her, scoffing under his breath. His eyes lingered as the blonde walked up to her horribly parked car, near flipping of another driver who honked at her for crossing randomly. The car moved from how harshly she slammed the door shut before she drove off. He shook his head to himself. That reckless driving with a six year-old next to her was dangerous.

He turned back with his hands in his pockets, feeling the eyes of the other mums on him. Harry was basically the only father who made it to drop-off moments. It caused most of the other mums to shoot their shot somehow and flirt with him, which he always rolled his eyes at.

He shot Finn one last wave, watching as he hurried up to walk next to Atlas. Both immediately broke out into a grin and Harry sighed, part of him wishing Finn could’ve found another friend in class. Finn was a little quiet and timid, which is why it surprised Harry that he gravitated towards someone as loud and extraverted as Atlas.

Before Atlas transferred schools, Finn never really mentioned many of his classmates. He often played by himself and never asked to invite anyone over for a playdate. Ever since a few weeks, he talked about Atlas all the time.

So when Harry saw the little blonde boy, waiting for his mum who had promised to pick him up, he took it upon himself to take him home and care for him until they got a hold of one of his parents. He had overheard the teachers talking about it, and only one name was on the call sheet.

Claire Carter.

A blonde-haired hurricane who showed up at his door by the time it was dark. The muted brown of her Burger King-outfit didn’t fit her or compliment her in any way. Even from the distance, Harry could see the fire in her eyes, hidden by a lot of fatigue.

But he didn’t really care in that moment. She had put her child in danger, and Harry could never imagine forgetting to pick up Finn from school or not notifying the teacher. He simply couldn’t understand how that happened.

He wasn’t able to keep his snide remarks down, somehow feeling so frustrated with her that she was so casual about fucking forgetting her child.

But he had quickly developed a soft spot for Atlas. Partly because he was making feel Finn so at ease, and partly because he was just a funny, goofy and playful kid. Harry had overheard them as they played together, and he constantly asked Finn questions. Asking how he was doing, asking if he felt okay, asking if he had a good day at school. It was gentle and caring.

Until he had heard Atlas slipping in a curse word and Harry’s eyes had widened tremendously.

After meeting his mum, he wasn’t really all that surprised anymore.

***

“Booze?” Harry frowned as Claire handed him the bottle of scotch.

She sheepishly shrugged, “You don’t drink?”

“Uh – no, I do.” Harry breathed, eyeing the label and seeing some knock-off version of cheap scotch. He cleared his throat, “’S just a bit of a weird gift to thank someone for looking after your kid.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to get you. Don’t think you need another stick to push up your ass.” Claire muttered and Harry glared at her, “Anything else?”

They were back in the same position. Claire was on the grass in front of Harry’s house as he stood in the doorway after Finn and Atlas ran inside. It was a Saturday and even though Claire had felt excited about spending a day with Atlas, he had asked her for a playdate with Finn.

And so here she was, dropping him off at his best friend’s house.

“No.” She breathed, “Not really. You’re just going to text me if I can come pick him up?”

Harry nodded, “Sure. Any allergies or something I need to be aware of for lunch?”

“No, he’s all good. Not a big fan of spinach if you were considering that.” Claire informed him. Harry softly nodded, “Fine then, bye.” He closed the door and Claire huffed, shaking her head. She hoped for Atlas’ sake that Finn wasn’t as much of a bitch as his father.

But disaster struck the moment Claire got in her car and tried to start it, only for her car the make the most pathetic noise and shut down.

“No.” She groaned, “God, please, no.” She tried again, jamming her key in it only to receive no response. Claire sat in the driver’s seat for a good ten minutes, simply refusing to get out and knock on Harry’s door again to ask him for help. She refused. Stubbornly, she sat in the seat until she got too bored and

Finally pushing her pride aside, she got out of the car in the scorching sun. Her arms crossed in front of her, she sighed while ringing Harry’s door again. He opened up with that same frown, “Forgot something?”

“I never left.” Claire deadpanned, “My car’s dead. Won’t start. Can I come inside to call a mechanic? It’s boiling.”

“I can feel that. ‘S like an oven.” Harry glanced outside before opening up the door wider, “Fine, come in.”

“Thank you.” She breathed. Harry cringed at her sandy shoes as she strolled through his hallway and straight into the kitchen like she had been here a billion times before. “Where are the kids?” She questioned while sitting down on a barstool.

“Yeah, make yourself at home, why don’t you.” Harry sarcastically spoke before leaning against the counter, “Upstairs. Finn’s got a playroom.”

“A playroom.” Claire nodded while scrolling her phone while searching for a mechanic, “Fancy.”

“Had to do something with my ex’s empty art studio.”

The comment made Claire flick her eyes up. Harry was staring out the window with his arms crossed. The stubble was more prominent now than a week before and the sun coming through definitely accentuated his prominent jaw and the shape of his lips. Claire put her phone down as she leaned her arms on the countertop, “Want to talk about it?”

Harry huffed softly, “No. Did you find a mechanic yet?”

“Do you know anyone in this neighbourhood? That I can like… afford.” Claire muttered the last part and Harry pressed his lips together, “Yeah, I’ll call my car guy. Don’t have to worry about money.”

“Your car guy?”

“Mhm.” Harry was on his phone, a concentrated frown on his forehead. Claire tilted her head to the side, “That’s… I mean, how often do you need a car guy?”

“Just sometimes.” Harry shrugged, “The old beetle outside gives up every once in a while. I call him and he comes here, it’s easy.”

“Both cars are yours?” Claire asked in clarification, and Harry hummed, “Yes.”

“Wow.” She mumbled, nodding to herself, “Must be nice.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her remark and then called his car guy, sharing a few quick words with him before hanging up again, “He’ll be here soon.”

Claire nodded, “Don’t you have jumper cables?”

“No, my car guy does.”

“Right.” She breathed. They were left in silence for a bit as the coffee was running. Harry hadn’t asked her if she wanted any, but poured her a cup either way and Claire didn’t complain. The longer the silence lasted, the more comfortable it became as both scrolled on their phones for a bit, the occasional sigh coming from Harry’s mouth.

Giggles and small feet carried themselves through the hallway.

“Daddy!!” Finn bubbled as both him and Atlas ran into the kitchen. Harry’s brows raised at the sight of his son, “Bub, where’s your shirt?”

“Atlas and I want to swim!” He ignored the question and Harry chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “Now?”

Atlas excitedly jumped, “Swim!”

“Atlas.” Claire chuckled while shaking her head, “You don’t know how to swim.”

Harry flicked his eyes to hers, “He can’t swim?” And Claire shook her head, “No, he hasn’t been taught yet.”

“Hm.” Harry exhaled, “Uh – well, I have floaties. Finn, you should use them too.”

“But, daddy!” The boy whined, “I can swim!” He stomped his foot down and Harry huffed, “In a kiddie pool. Not in a pool this deep.”

Finn pouted and Claire fought her smile at how adorable he looked, “But, daddy…” He tried again, “you always come in the pool with me and swim with me and throw me around and then save me.” He explained. Claire’s lips curled up in a smile, “Oh, do you?” She flicked her eyes to Harry who scoffed slightly before crouching down to Finn’s level, “Buddy, I have to fix something with Atlas’ mum’s car, so I can’t come in the pool right now. Besides, I have some work to do in the office. I thought you guys would be nice and quiet for me today?”

“We can be quiet in the pool.” Atlas butted in and Harry shook his head, “It’s gonna be a no. I can’t supervise when you guys are in the pool and it’s too dangerous.”

“Mummy,” Atlas whispered, tugging on Claire’s sleeve. She turned to face him as Harry ruffled Finn’s hair, who couldn’t hide the disappointment for the life of him.

“Yes?” She smiled at Atlas, who nibbled his lip a little, “Why don’t we have a pool?”

Claire took a breath, “Because we live in an apartment.”

“Yeah.” Atlas lowered his eyes, “But I like being outside. Finn has a very big garden to play in.”

Claire’s heart clenched as she exhaled before pressing her lips together. Atlas looked at her with big, green eyes, expecting an answer she couldn’t give him. Claire couldn’t tell him she also really wanted a house with a garden and a pool and a dog, giving Atlas the room he craved to play and be wild. He had a lot of energy and no real way to get rid of that in their small, dingy apartment.

Harry saved her though, clearing his throat, “Atlas, you can borrow swimming trunks from Finn. You guys get in the pool for a while once I grab the floaties.” The cheers sounded loudly through the room even though Harry wasn’t finished yet, “Only for a little while!” He held his finger up, “I have to work!”

Before the final word had left his lips, Finn and Atlas had bolted out of the room and back up the stairs and Harry let out a sigh, checking his watch. Claire followed his gaze, noticing his bony fingers tapping on the countertop in thought. The veins wrapping around his arm led her eyes up to the tattoos on his skin.

“I can stay too.” She offered, taking a sip of her coffee.

Harry seemed snapped out of his thoughts, “Hm?”

Claire cleared her throat, “I can stay too. You said you need to get work done and I have a free day. I can stay by the pool with the boys. I don’t mind, if you don’t have the time for it.”

“I want to have the time for it.” Harry clarified and Claire nodded, “I know. But it’s fine if you don’t. You can’t have time for everything.”

Harry scratched his jaw in thought, “I don’t have like bathing suits here. Astrid took all her stuff.”

Astrid.

Claire shrugged, “I’m wearing black underwear. Decent enough, not like… a thong or anything.” She mumbled. Harry fought the flaming of his cheeks before huffing out a chuckle, “Or you could stay by the edge and just put your legs in.”

“Atlas doesn’t know how to swim. Floaties or not, I’m getting in the water with him.” Claire frowned.

Harry sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I mean – uh… If you don’t mind? I really have a project to finish today, I have to meet the deadline or I’m losing this client.”

“What is it that you do exactly?”

“I’m an architect.” Harry mumbled, clearly still lost in thought at Claire’s offer. He nibbled his lip as she nodded, digesting the information. It made sense. Harry worked from home and on his own schedule, which meant he was free to drop Finn off and pick him up from school all the time.

“And you didn’t have any other plans today? On your free day?”

Claire let out a breath, “I – uh… Seeing as Atlas asked for this playdate, I actually planned an actual date this afternoon.” She tilted her head to the side while squinting her eyes at her screen, “But judging by this guy’s texts… he’s about to cancel on me either way so, yeah.” She sighed and put her phone back down, forcing Harry a small smile.

He whistled teasingly, “A date, hm? Spicy.”

“Not all of us are a hundred years old.” She rolled her eyes and Harry huffed out a laugh, “How old do you think I am, Claire?” The playfulness in his tone was something Claire wasn’t used to from him. The Harry she had seen so far in their previous encounters, was uptight and moody. His dimple popped in his left cheek as he smirked slightly.

She faked a small smile back, “Considering your gigantic frown lines, I’d say nearing your forties.”

“Ouch.” Harry placed his hand on his chest, “You wound me. Thirty-four, actually, but thanks. I’ll make some changes to my skincare routine. Noted.”

Claire giggled and shook her head, “I was kidding.”

“Funny girl, aren’t you?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, sensing a shift in Harry’s tone. He had lose the tension in his shoulders, softly smirking at her now from the opposite side of the kitchen as he leaned against the countertop. She lowered her eyes again and Harry cleared his throat, “So, going on a date, hm? First date?”

“Yes.” Claire breathed, “First and last date, which is how it usually goes.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know,” She shrugged, her fingers toying together, “I show up in a pretty dress and flirt and play them a little. It’s all fun and games in the beginning until the real conversations start and it comes up that I’m a mother, raising Atlas by myself.”

Harry slowly nodded and Claire smiled, “You know, they’re usually fine with me having a son. Like, that’s alright mostly. But once they realize I don’t have a week-week schedule with my ex and actually have Atlas near every day, that’s where they draw the line. Like they don’t want to share.” She shrugged, “So that’s where it ends. I’m lucky if I can get some decent sex out of it. Which doesn’t happen often.”

Harry sputtered out a laugh at her bluntness before shaking his head to himself, “Wow. Yeah, I see why it sticks to one date. I could never be with someone who doesn’t appreciate Finn or doesn’t want to spend time with him.”

“It’s a package deal.”

He nodded in agreement, “Sure is.”

Claire leaned her elbow on the countertop and stared at him, “How about you?”

“Me?” Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “Nah. Eternal bachelor.”

She frowned while smiling, “I don’t believe that for a second. I know I’ve only been there to drop off Atlas once, but I could see all those soccer moms making eyes at you.”

“They’re all married.” He rolled his eyes, “And not my type.”

“Rich and beautiful is not your type?” Claire chuckled and Harry shrugged, “Apparently not.”

Silence fell over them again until Harry took a breath, “I’m gonna head up to the office. Grab whatever you want from the fridge or anything. There’s sunscreen in the bathroom and obviously the pool is outside. I’ll go grab the floaties from Finn’s room.”

“Yeah, okay.” Claire nodded. She checked her phone again, just seeing the message come in of her date, cancelling on her and asking to reschedule. She puckered her lips, remembering how he was some hot shot at an up and coming lawyer firm. She didn’t exactly expect him to have time for her on a Saturday.

With Harry’s footsteps heading up the stairs, Claire slowly got up from her barstool and roamed the kitchen. She stared out the window, seeing the pale blue pool in the large garden. It looked inviting, she had to admit. Even if it was nearing the end of September, it was exceptionally warm.

The house felt silent with both boys and Harry upstairs, and Claire’s feet took her to the crispy white living room. Every piece of furniture here looked like it was made by designers and she was nearly scared to touch anything. There weren’t much toys here and then Claire remembered Finn having a playroom upstairs.

As her eyes darted over the pictures on the wall, they stayed put on the brunette in some of the frames. There were about two of her and a younger Finn. The other ones were of Harry and Finn, or a standalone Finn.

Claire figured it was Astrid, Harry’s ex. She was beautiful, obviously. Looking at Finn, he was a gorgeous little boy with obvious great genes.

Just a few minutes later, Claire was outside with both excited boys. Finn and Atlas were around the same size, with Atlas just being a tad taller. Both wore little swimming trunks with either ducks or boats on them and stood perfectly still as Claire put sunscreen on them.

She didn’t see Harry staring at them from the window above. His laptop was open and he was drawing, he really was. Or he tried to. But he stood against the windowsill up on the first floor, staring down the length of his garden. The water of the pool looked inviting and he could see Finn’s wide grin from a mile away.

Claire grinned too, her blonde hair pinned back now with one of Harry’s ballpoints holding it together. It was inventive, he had to give her that. Her hands smoothed over Finn’s back to put the product on him before she gently slid the floaties around the boy’s arms. They both patiently waited at the edge of the pool, excited to jump in.

Harry’s leg twitched a little when his eyes were on her. She kicked off her shoes, a pair of mom jeans on her legs that she popped. The dryness in his throat once she slid the pants down her legs, was something Harry didn’t anticipate. Black underwear was revealed. Simple cotton with just a small lace border.

Harry thanked his impeccable eyesight to see every detail of Claire from a distance. She was shaped beautifully, with curvy thighs and a dip in her waist which was revealed as she lifted the navy top over her head to reveal an equally black bra.

He saw hints of a tattoo on the back of her shoulder, but Claire moved too quickly for Harry to notice it. Urging the boys to get in the pool, she elegantly got in with them.

A small smile tugged on Harry’s lips as he watched the first few minutes of their playing. Atlas and Finn mostly splashed around, ruining Claire’s plans to keep her hair dry. She tossed the ballpen to the side, ducking underneath the water to get in all the way.

She played with Atlas a bit, and Finn too. He laughed loudly as Claire threw him around a little bit, playing gently with him. They did a bit of a race where she purposely let him win while Atlas splashed a little more, without his swimming experience.

It was hours later, when Claire was fresh out of the pool and drying on the sunbed – with both boys running around the garden and giggling – that she felt a towel being dropped on her stomach. Her eyes snapped open in surprise and she squinted, Harry blocking the sunlight a little, “Hi.” He chuckled.

“Oh, hi.” She smiled, sitting up a bit and grabbing the towel, “Thank you.”

“’S fine.” His eyes glanced around the garden, “Did they have fun?”

Claire wrapped the towel around her to dry off, “Yeah. I don’t understand how they’ve got so much energy left, even I need a nap. Two is too much.”

“I’ve honestly never seen Finn this loud.” Harry smiled as his son ran through the garden with Atlas chasing him, “They’re pretty good friends.”

“They are.” Claire smiled as she followed his gaze, “Infectuous, really.”

“They didn’t give you too hard of a time?”

“Not at all. Finn’s a sweet a boy.”

Harry smiled as he nodded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants, “He is.”

“How about you? Finished your project?”

“Yep.” Harry stretched his arms now, yawning a little, “I need a nap too.” He joked.

Claire got up with a mischievous glint in her eyes, the towel around her form as she took a few steps closer to Harry. He involuntary took a few back, but she was still close enough that he could see the freckles on her nose and the remains of an old scar above her brow.

“What are you doing?” He spoke in a strained voice, taking a few steps back still to create some distance. He could feel himself breaking out into a sweat when Claire just continued to step closer to him. “Claire.” He pushed.

“You know what’s a great substitute for a nap?” She purred, daring to take another step closer to him. She could inhale his perfume and Harry held his breath when she batted her lashes. He swallowed thickly, “Hm?”

“A dip in the water.” She smiled, using a hand that she placed against his covered chest to give him a shove back. Harry’s eyes widened as he lost his balance, “Wh- Wait!” He yelped, reaching his arm out. Claire laughed, hardly caring that Harry managed to take a hold of her wrist and pull her in. Unlike him – who made a gigantic splash as he tumbled down – Claire managed to get in a dive and dip in elegantly.

The coolness of the water did wake Harry up immediately and he sputtered out as he reached the surface, shaking his hair out with his clothes completely soaked. Claire was laughing as she quickly took the towel to throw it on the grass and get it out of the water.

“Oh my god!” Harry laughed, splashing water at Claire, who giggled. Harry flicked his eyes to their two boys who seemed unaware, chuckling as he shook his head, “You dick.”

Claire gasped in fake shock, “Are you cursing?”

Harry rolled his eyes as he swam back over to the side, pushing himself out of the pool. Claire was mesmerized for a second, watching the way his shirt clung to him. The muscles in his back bulged as he pushed himself up, showing off every ridge.

“Shit.” Harry chuckled, opening up the buttons of his shirt, “I can’t believe you pushed me in the pool. What are you, six?”

Claire grinned and also got out of the water, feeling Harry’s eyes on her as she wrung out her hair, “No, twenty-eight.”

“You wouldn’t say.”

Claire stuck out her tongue and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Brat.” He scoffed, “’M gonna grab towels.” He turned around to head into the house, his pants soaking wet and his shirt off. The light reflected off his muscular back and Claire near drooled. Harry handed her another fluffy towel and both sat down on the sunbed.

“So around what time are you going to offer me a drink?” Claire teased and Harry hummed, “I don’t drink around Finn.”

“Well, ‘m not gonna get blind drunk but I wouldn’t say no to some pink wine.”

“Yeah, not blind drunk, just…” He shrugged, “I don’t want to give the wrong example.”

Claire leaned back on her hands, letting herself dry in the heat of the burning sun, “Having a drink every once in a while isn’t setting the wrong example, Harry. You’re an adult.” She shrugged, “I mean, it’s your own decision obviously, but it’s impossible to be responsible all the time around your child.”

“Responsible…” Harry mused, “Like remembering to pick them up from school?”

“Dick.” Claire chuckled, nudging her shoulder into his playfully. Harry grinned, staring at the pool as the boys played still. Harry had changed out of his pants and put on some swimming trunks this time, in case Claire decided to shove him in the pool again. His hair was wet and dripping down his back, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Thank you again for that. Work just got… in the way.”

Harry turned his head to the side to watch her, “Don’t have to thank me again, that’s not why I said it. Was just making a joke.”

“I know.”

“You work a lot, don’t you? At Burger King?”

Claire exhaled a breath, “It’s not the most glamorous job and it doesn’t pay that much. But yes, I work a lot. I take a lot of shifts and often work weekends or late nights.”

“Is Atlas by himself when you work?”

“No,” Claire breathed, “I’m not that terrible of a mum.” Her voice held a hint of bitterness and she pressed her lips together, “There’s a young girl in my building who babysits for him. She’s like… seventeen maybe and she dropped out of school. She’s always available. The other mums said they’d seen her around to pick him up sometimes.”

“Oh, yeah…” Harry nodded, “like dark make-up, black hair?”

“Mhm, that’s Belle.”

“Isn’t it like… counter-productive? You have to pay her and then work while having to do so…”

“I earn more than whatever I have to pay her.” Claire mumbled, “Like I said, she’s not that expensive. I keep more than I have to give her.”

Harry nodded, “Right.” There was silence for a moment, “Look, ‘m sorry about giving you a hard time last week. I didn’t mean to like… shame you or anything.”

“No, I get it. It’s everyone’s first impression of me, trust me.” She chuckled, “That judgement is exactly why I pulled him out of his previous school, though. He heard people talking that I was never there, that I was leaving him on his own, that I wasn’t fit to be a parent. It’s painful because I’m really doing this all for him.”

Harry nodded again, listening to her. Claire fiddled with her fingers, “Like what he said about the pool earlier, you heard, right?"

“Mhm. I did.”

“Well, I want that too. I want to give him everything, I want him to have a nice childhood and I want to spend time with him. But I don’t have an education so I can’t really go for high-paying jobs. Just have to take what I can get and hope for flexible hours to be there for him.”

“You’re doing a lot, Claire.” Harry sympathized, “Seriously, ‘m sorry. I-I judged way too quick.”

“That’s fine.” She shot him a sly smile, “Happens when you’re old.”

Harry smiled and shook his head to himself, “And hey… I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you drop him off here whenever you have to work late or want some time for yourself? Finn and Atlas can spend time together, he could even stay the night if you want. And you don’t have to pay me.”

“What?” Claire frowned.

“I’m serious.” He shrugged, “It’s nice for Finn to have a friend. They’re joined at the hip.” Harry glanced over his shoulder to see both boys giggling together, a smile tugging on his lips, “I think they’d like it. He could eat here or I could grab him after school, bring him here. You can just come pick him up whenever you’re finished.”

Claire tilted her head to the side with a frown, “But… Don’t you have to work? Or go places?”

“Not really, to be honest.” Harry admitted, “I’m home all the time. A lot has changed since my divorce and I don’t have much of a social life anymore, just put Finn first. Wanted him to grow up with at least one present parent after all the arguing he had to witness as a baby. And I work for myself, got flexible hours. I work when he’s at school or when he goes to bed at night.”

Claire stared at him, “I-I mean… If you’re sure.”

“Of course.” Harry smiled, “Dead sure. You can even go on your dates on Saturday nights, or something.” He teased softly and Claire bit her lip, “You’re right. I can. I should text that guy to reschedule."

He hummed, “You can.” He then turned to face her, “So we’ve got a deal?”

Claire nibbled her lip, “And… you’d want nothing out of it?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, “Just doing it for Finn. And Atlas is a nice kid, Claire. He’s a good influence to bring Finn out of his shell.”

She smiled softly, her bubbly boy being a good influence made her so proud. “Okay. Then I guess we have a deal.”

They stupidly shook hands before bursting out in giggles. Claire hummed, bumping her shoulder into his again, “You’re not that bad, you know?”

“I know.” Harry playfully responded, “Neither are you."

“You’re the first mum-friend I’ve ever made in my life.”

“Oh god.” Harry groaned, “Don’t call me your mum-friend.”

Claire threw her head back in a laugh and Harry leaned back a little bit too, his eyes finally catching the ink on the back of Claire’s shoulder now that her hair dried a bit. He could see now, that it was a tattoo for Atlas. Literally a tattoo of Atlas, who carried the world. It was simple, and even a little disturbed with some dark bruises around it.

Harry swallowed, but decided not to comment on it.

***

“Hi, Harry!” Atlas bubbled as he waved at Harry. He was leaning against his car, sunglasses up his nose as he waved back, “Hi, bud.”

“Atlas!” Claire panted as she came running from across the street – having done another horrible parking job with her car. Harry smiled as she ran up to Atlas, crouching down to catch him in a hug. Atlas ran straight into her arms with a giggle and Claire hugged him, stroking his back, “Hi, baby. How was your day?”

“Good!” He smiled widely. Claire pressed a kiss to his cheek as she smiled.

“Bye Atlas! See you soon!” Finn’s voice sounded as he ran up to Harry, and Claire straightened up as she shot him a wave, “Oh, hi. Didn’t see you.”

Yeah, hey.” He smiled back, “Been here a while, I like to be early, Finn doesn’t like to wait.”

“Are you sure it’s still okay for tonight?”

He nodded, “Yep, ‘s fine.” Harry ruffled Atlas’ hair, “Gonna come over for a movie night, bud?”

“Can we watch Toy Story?!” Atlas excitedly gasped and Harry groaned a little under his breath, recovering quickly as he rolled his lips inside of her mouth, “Mhm.”

Claire chuckled, “Are you sure?” She softly asked him and Harry nodded again, “Positive, really. It’ll be fun.”

Her hair was up in a clip again, whisps of hair flying around. She wore a jumper even if it was boiling, and Harry could tell she was still wearing the Burger King shirt underneath, some of the muted brown sticking out of the neckline of her jumper. Claire took Atlas’ hand and waved at Harry and Finn, “See you tonight!”

“Bye!” Harry waved back, and Finn did too. As Harry urged Finn into the backseat, Dolores walked up to him. With her fresh bob-cut and perfect make-up, she sent him a smile, “Hi, Harry.”

“Dolores.” He nodded. She eyed him up and down, “Did I overhear you talking to Claire for a moment there?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded, “Mhm.” There was no point in lying about it, all eyes had been on them just a minute before. His eyes flicked to the other side of the street where Claire slammed her car door to drive off, not putting on her blinkers before she sped off. He wanted to roll his eyes at her driving behaviour but also knew he was super extreme with his careful driving.

“You know…” Dolores lowered her voice and came a little closer as Harry closed Finn’s car door. He straightened up and Dolores shortly glanced around, “There has been some talk. You know, a new mum… people always talk.” She shrugged as if it was the most normal thing. Harry stiffly nodded, “Naturally.” He vividly remembered all the gossip when word got around about what happened between him and Astrid.

“And well,” Dolores tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “Natalie heard that Claire has a past in drug abuse.” She was near whispering now, “And that she was married to a dealer.”

Harry let out a soft sigh, “Right.” He hardly listened, if he was honest. He knew better. Word got around quickly here, but everything got changed and manipulated. He knew better than to believe everything he heard around this town.

Dolores cleared her throat, “And that she was using while being pregnant. That poor boy… I mean, it’s clear that he’s got ADHD, and that could be a result of her abusing drugs while pregnant.”

Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, “Dolores,” He sighed, “even if it’s true, who cares? It’s her life and it’s been six years since she was pregnant. Let’s not meddle.” He simply spoke, forcing her a small smile.

“I’m just warning you,” Dolores put her hand on Harry’s arm and he flicked his eyes down to the touch with a frown in his forehead. Dolores swallowed, “She’s around Finn, Harry. Think about the influence…”

Harry cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, walking around his car to get behind the wheel, “Bye, Dolores.”

She opened her mouth to say more, but Harry was already in his car with the door closed. He didn’t spare her another glance before he drove off.

A few hours later, someone rang his door. Claire was fiddling with the top button of her dress as she waited for Harry to open his door. Atlas was by her side, excited for his movie night here as she had rescheduled with her date for tonight.

She was sort of excited, it had been a while since she had gone out. Her work schedule didn’t allow her to and she wanted to spend most nights with Atlas. Knowing he wasn’t just in the apartment with Belle scrolling on her phone, but was spending time with his friends eased her guilt a little of leaving him alone.

The lock clicked as Harry appeared, flashing a grin at Atlas, “Hey!”

“Hi, Harry!” He grinned back before turning to Claire, “Bye, mummy!!” He hardly waited for her response before sprinting into the house he knew rather well by now. Claire chuckled, “Yeah, bye. Love you too.”

Harry leaned against the doorpost, shortly scanning her outfit. He was used to seeing Claire either in her Burger King outfit or in jeans and a shirt. Now, she wore a dress. And make-up. It was clear to him she was making an effort. The slippers on her feet made his brows raise though, “Is he super short or something?” He nudged his head towards her feet.

Claire followed his eyes, “Oh, no, I don’t think so. I just can’t drive in heels so I’ll switch my shoes when I arrive.” She explained, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder, “By the way, if I’m done before midnight, I’m coming back over to pick him up.”

“In the middle of the night?” Harry frowned.

“Yeah, we sort of have our morning routing, Atlas and I. So I prefer picking him up and letting him sleep the rest of the night in his own bed. What time do you usually go to bed?”

Harry scratched his chin, “Yeah, around midnight.”

“Okay, but I’ll text you. Maybe he sucks and I’ll be back in an hour.”

His lips curled up in an amused smirk, “What’re dealbreakers to you, Claire?”

“I’d love to go over the list with you,” She grabbed a lipstick from her purse and blindly put it on, painting them a soft cherry red before rubbing them together, “but I’m going to be late if we get into that.”

Harry’s eyes zeroed in on Claire’s lips and he huffed out a chuckle, “Fine. Well, have fun. Be safe. Let me know when you’d come pick up Atlas.”

“Will do! Thank you.” Claire spun on her heel and headed back to her car, driving off the driveway to head to her date. Harry watched, feeling only slightly wary of her going by car instead of being picked up. He wondered if she’d drink during dinner and then drive, picking up Atlas to drive with him.

Dolores’ words ran through his head over and over again before he shook his head to himself and headed inside.

He checked his phone a few times, but Claire was actually having an okay time on her date. The guy who worked at the lawyer firm was charming and showed up in a suit. A bit stiff, Claire thought. And she was definitely underdressed. Her black dress looked classy but was cheap as fuck, and the buttons around her chest seemed near ready to pop.

His eyes were drawn to her tits most of the time as he drank the one scotch after the other. Their conversations started pleasantly and Claire got it out of the way first, immediately notifying him of the fact she had a six year-old son. He hadn’t responded much to it, just hummed and said it was cool.

As the evening progressed, Claire got a bit of an ick though. He seemed to talk mostly about herself and when he ended up not asking one single question about Atlas, Claire decided for herself that this was not it. He was near drunk once they finished their dinner and headed outside. He sloppily tried to kiss her and she turned him down, even having to stifle her laugh when he casually suggested they hook up just once.

He also called her a prude when she refused. Rolling her eyes, Claire got in her car. Before driving off, she quickly texted Harry.

Message to: Harry (Finn’s dad)

Coming back from the restaurant now, I’ll be there in twenty.

It was nowhere near midnight, but just past ten thirty in the evening. Claire had only been on her date a good few hours but it had felt like forever. With the window down, she drove up to Harry’s house again after another disappointing night. It had been the one shitty date after the other in the past few months.

Most lights in the house seemed off as Claire pulled up, getting out in her slippers and softly knocking on the door as to not alert the sleeping children. She heard footsteps, and soon Harry opened up. He looked a little sleepy and Claire suspected he had dozed off on the couch before she texted him that she was coming back.

“Hi.” She bit her lip, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

He stifled a yawn, “You didn’t. Put the boys to bed not too long ago and I was reading a little bit.” He opened the door wider for her, “Come in. How was the date?”

“Horrible.” Claire huffed, following him into the kitchen. Harry hummed, “Want some coffee? Or water? There’s also some dinner leftover if you want.”

“It actually smells so good in here.” Claire hummed, “If you’ve got any left, I’d like to.”

“Sure, I’ll heat some up. Tell me about the guy.”

Claire pushed herself up to sit on the countertop, “Well, he was just…” She shrugged, “Boring. And arrogant. He only talked about himself, was just overall rude and he drank so much, god… I hope he didn’t yet have to drive.”

Harry smiled softly at her words as he put a plate in the microwave. “How responsible of you.” He teased, repeating the words from last week that she had mocked him with. Claire smiled and rolled her eyes, “Hey, I have morals.”

“Hm.” Harry hummed, remembering Dolores’ words again. He turned around, “Here you go. Atlas really liked it.”

“Holy shit. Did you make this yourself?”

“Think I’ve got some private chef here, Claire?”

She shrugged, “Honestly, yes.” Her fork poked into a piece of chicken as she stuffed it in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m quite an okay cook. I like cooking actually.” Harry went to sit on the opposite countertop, his legs dangling over the edge as they were in the dimly lit kitchen, “Go on now, tell me five positive things about the date.”

“Five?” Claire’s eyes widened, “Uh…” She chewed for a bit, “well, one… he paid. So that was nice.” She narrowed her eyes in thought and Lennon chuckled softly, “Only one?”

“No, no, wait, let me think.” Claire shook her head, “Oh, well, he didn’t shame me when I wanted to have dessert. And when I said I had a kid, he said it was cool.”

“Cool?” Harry frowned, “That’s supposed to be a positive thing? The bar is very low.”

“It’s on the floor, let’s be honest.”

“So I assume it’s safe to say there won’t be a second date.”

Claire scrunched her nose, “Definitely not. He tried to kiss me and suggested sex.”

Harry’s brows raised, “Seriously? Bold.”

“You’d be surprised, dating isn’t the same as it was ten years ago.”

He hummed, “Apparently. Thank god I don’t have to go through that.” He shook his head to himself. He knew it could be brutal out there. Hell, Astrid had made it brutal for him. The thought of her left his stomach in clenches and he quickly pushed it all away.

“Harry, this is really good. Wow.” Claire near moaned as she ate more food and Harry smiled, “Thanks.” He felt proud at her compliment and shyly glanced down. Claire swallowed her bite, “So what did you three do tonight?”

“Watched Toy Story. Twice.”

Claire sputtered out a giggle, “No way.”

“Atlas is quite persuasive.” Harry chuckled, “But I was reading a little throughout. They were nice and quiet though, had some popcorn. They wanted to swim but I said no.”

“Stern.” Claire nodded and Harry shrugged, “Some might say, yes.”

Claire crossed her legs over one another and leaned back, “So… I’m curious. If you never go on a date, how long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

Harry chuckled to himself while shaking his head, “Nope. None of your business.”

Claire shrugged, “Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for a bit until Claire decided to head home. Harry guided her up the stairs to show the spare room where Atlas was sleeping. He was dazed until he laid eyes on his mum, a wide grin spreading over his face. Claire carried him downstairs and gently put him in the car before thanking Harry again and driving off.

***

“Thank you so much for watching him.” Claire breathed as she was at the door in her Burger King outfit. She looked exhausted, Harry noticed. Her hair was a little messy and she had bags under her eyes. It was a Thursday and almost a week after she had dropped Atlas off here to go on her date.

He hadn’t seen much of her throughout the week, or just shortly to pick up Atlas after school. Today, she had to pick up another shift so Harry took Atlas home after school to hang out with Finn.

“’S no problem.” Harry shrugged, “I’ve told you, Atlas is a nice kid to have around. He’s polite.”

“Yeah.” Claire tiredly smiled, “Can you go grab him?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, “Mhm. Or – uh… we were just about to have dinner. You can join if you want.”

“That’s really nice,” Claire sighed, “but you’re already doing way too much for us. And I desperately need to shower.”

“I have showers.” He shrugged.

“Showers? Multiple?”

He chuckled, “Yes. C’mon,” he urged her, nodding his head inside the house, “it’ll be nice for the boys.”

It’s what he went with. That it was nice for the boys. Really trying to ignore the fact that it’d be nice for him too. Claire was easy to talk to and not as uptight or fake like all the other mums in the school. She was blunt and unapologetic, but very straightforward and without bullshit. He appreciated that now, whereas he didn’t at first.

She was trying her best, he could see that.

Claire eventually caved, nodding her head. She wore that horrific Burger King fit and Harry showed her where everything was in the bathroom, handing her a pair of joggers and a shirt of his.

The four of them sat around the dinner table later, with Claire only being slightly uncomfortable at how underdressed and casual she was. The clothes Harry handed her felt nice and soft, but she wasn’t used to having dinner in pyjamas with wet hair laying on her back and with anyone else besides Atlas.

“I have a question,” Harry popped, narrowing his eyes at Claire, “Do you ever eat burgers?”

She chuckled, shaking her head, “Absolutely not. Can’t stand burgers anymore. Besides, I see how they’re made and let me tell you… it’s a big no. I’m in the smell of it all day and I just…” She shuddered, “Nope.”

They fell silent again with just Finn and Atlas whispering something to one another until Finn nodded and cleared his throat, “Claire?” He spoke in a small, soft voice. Claire swallowed her bite and turned, “Yes?”

Finn looked a little nervous, shifting in his chair as he put his fork down and a slight flush rose over his cheeks, “Atlas said I could come to your house.”

Claire frowned slightly, shortly flicking her eyes to Atlas before clearing her throat, “I’m… what?”

“We always come here. I want to show Finn where we live.” Atlas piped up. Claire felt her cheeks heating up a little bit in embarrassment as she stared at her plate. Harry hummed, “That could be fun. Maybe we could all have dinner at your place?”

Claire licked her lip, refusing to look him in the eye, “That’s…well, that’s not possible. I-I don’t have a table that can fit four people.” She mumbled softly. Her shoulders slumped a little bit and Harry paused mid-chew to watch her as she kept her eyes on the food in her plate.

“Atlas, baby, we don’t really have the room for you and Finn to play the way you can here, right?” She softly spoke to her son.

Atlas pouted and Claire forced him a small smile, “Maybe some other time, yeah?”

“But I want to show him where we live.” Atlas murmured in a trembling voice, nearly on the verge of tears. Claire turned to him and kept her voice soft, “I know. But you know how mummy always says we won’t live there for too long? Because it’s so small and loud and dark?” She near whispered to Atlas, who nodded and sniffled once, “Well, maybe we should wait until we live somewhere nicer.”

“Are you poor?” Finn’s voice sounded curious and Claire’s eyes widened.

“Finn!” Harry scolded in shock, “You can’t ask people that!”

Finn looked completely horrified at the sudden volume his father used to talk to him. He stared at Harry with large, green eyes and even his lip was trembling, “B-But Atlas comes to school with dirty clothes.” He near whispered, sounding nervous. Claire’s stomach dropped and Finn sniffled again, “And we share my lunch because he’s still hungry after his.”

“Stop!” Harry snapped, his fist coming down on the table. Finn jumped up with a gasp in surprise and then burst into tears, scrambling from the table to run off. Claire held her breath as she stared at Harry, his fist clenched as he exhaled a sharp breath, “Shit.” He grumbled under his breath.

Claire swallowed and turned to Atlas, “Do you want to go check up on Finn, baby? Tell him his daddy’s not mad at him and neither am I? That we’re all okay?”

Atlas also seemed surprised with Harry’s outburst and timidly nodded before leaving the table to find Finn in the house. The moment he was out of sight, tears spilled from Claire’s eyes. She turned her head away from Harry, hiding it as she hastily wiped underneath her eyes. Her fingers trembled, repeating in her head what Finn had said.

That Atlas showed up with dirty clothes to school and not enough lunch, to the point he was still hungry and ate from the other kid’s lunchboxes.

“Claire.” Harry exhaled and she ignored him, her brain spinning. She was trying so hard. And all this time, she thought she had been doing good. That Atlas was at least happy even if they didn’t have all that much. But people talked, and soon enough the same thing would happen like it had done in his three previous schools. Word would get around, parents would tell their kids not to hang out with him and he’d be bullied.

Harry scooted his chair closer to hers, “Claire,” He repeated, “look at me.”

She pressed her lips together and flicked her eyes up. Harry noticed the wetness in her waterline, the red rimming around her lids. She was exhausted and sad, and it was written all over her face. He wasn’t sure what to do, so gently patted her knee, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” She shook her head, “it’s not his fault. I just – uh… I didn’t know.” She simply shrugged, staring down again, “We’re always in such a hurry in the mornings a-and I just grab whatever clothes of his I can find. And sometimes I don’t have time to do laundry in the weekends. And I swear, he fucking grows all the time, it’s like I have to buy new shirts every other week.” She tiredly scratched her forehead.

Harry listened to her soft rambling and Claire shook her head, “He’s never complained.” Her voice was a little raspy, “about being hungry, or not having enough food. He’s never mentioned it to me.”

“I’m sure Finn was exaggerating.” Harry murmured back, holding his hand on her knee now to give a gentle squeeze, “It maybe happened once. He’s an energized kid who eats a lot, I’ve noticed it here too. I’m sure that if he truly was hungry after lunch every single day, he would’ve told you. You guys are close, right?”

“Yeah.” Claire nodded, “He usually tells me everything.”

“See? I’m sure it’s not that bad. And so what he has a stain on his shirt? He’s a wild kid, always playing and running around… he’s bound to fuck up his clothes.”

Claire listened to him and really tried to hear him, but fresh tears welled in her eyes, “I’m really trying, Harry.” Her tone was shaky and he cooed, “I know. Fuck, I know. I can see it first-hand.”

“Shit.” Claire murmured as she buried her face in her hands and her shoulders trembled in quiet sobs. Harry squeezed her knee and then moved his hand up to her shoulder, “Hey, c’mere.” He urged her to stand up and Claire did so, letting herself be pulled into his chest for a hug. Her forehead was pressed to his clavicle as she sobbed into him, Harry’s arms rubbing up her back to comfort her and shush her softly.

“You’re doing incredible, Claire. And Atlas loves you so much.” He held her body to his, feeling as she weakly cried, both in exhaustion and in feeling powerless. It was a few minutes later that Harry swallowed, “And if you ever need help with money or anything…” He knew the moment he said it, that she’d refuse.

Claire sniffled and shook her head while being pressed to him, “We’ll be fine.”

“O-Or maybe your parents or something?”

“They cut me off. I haven’t been in contact with them since they knew I was pregnant.” Her voice was soft and Harry pressed his lips together, giving her another squeeze, “And doesn’t your ex need to pay? For Atlas?”

Claire sighed out into his neck, “You’d think so. The lawyers are working on it because he refuses to pay. But those things take so long, I’m not even hopeful anymore I’ll ever see a dime.”

It made Harry hate him even more. He had heard little bits about Evan, Atlas’ dad, from Finn. Not much, nothing detailed, just that Atlas didn’t see him that much and that he lived in the area. Any piece of information that Harry found out, made his blood boil. He couldn’t understand how he wouldn’t make an effort to hang out with Atlas, who was such a fun little boy to be around. Harry found there was nothing more satisfying than watching his son grow up and he couldn’t imagine missing it for the life of him.

“Well, you can always ask me. I won’t question it.” Harry concluded and Claire sniffled, “Thank you.”

They stood embraced for another good few minutes until Claire untangled herself, “I’m fine.” She took a breath, through most of her crying as she shot Harry an unconvincing smile, “I’ll be fine.”

“I know.” He nodded.

***

Message from: Claire

He’s wearing boat shoes. I don’t know what to do.

Harry chuckled at the screen of his phone as Finn had his head laying in his lap. Atlas was curled up in the couch too, eyes glued to the screen as they were having another Friday movie night. And Claire was out on a date.

It was nearing November now, and their little deal had been going on for a few months. Claire didn’t go out every weekend, but at least every other weekend. And Harry took Atlas here for the night to hang out with Finn so she could go on her date.

It was safe to say that it usually wasn’t that big of a success. Claire would text him underneath the table about all the horrible things they’d say or do and then come here to pick up Atlas. It resulted in at least an hour of gossiping and laughing before she eventually left and he’d watch her drive off in the darkness of the night.

Message to: Claire.

What colour are they?

His phone soon buzzed with a response.

Message from: Claire.

Who cares!! We’re in the city, not on a fucking boat!

Harry laughed again, shaking his head to himself as he stroked his fingers through Finn’s hair. He had a book next to him but found himself almost more interested in the movie playing. Tangled. It wasn’t half bad, to be honest.

Harry hardly noticed it as Atlas crawled closer to him until bumping his head into Harry’s bicep. He glanced to his side to see the blonde-haired little boy with half-tired eyes, cuddled into a blanket.

Harry hesitated for a moment before opening his arm and Atlas didn’t wait a second, simply nuzzled into Harry’s side with a content sigh. Harry’s heart felt full, with Atlas cuddled into him on one side and Finn resting on his lap. He gently stroked his fingers over Atlas’ head and the boy melted into him even more. There was trust here, after weeks and weeks of spending time together. Atlas was incredible, Harry had come to find out. He was clever and witty, making Finn laugh louder than Harry had ever heard.

Atlas was definitely more on the mischievous side where Finn was rather timid and quiet, but they compensated the other very well. And had grown to be very close friends.

Harry’s phone buzzed softly.

Message from: Claire.

Okay, I’m out of here. He just asked how much I make a month and if I can get him free burgers.

Harry snorted softly and typed back.

Message to: Claire.

Yeah, sounds like your cue to leave. You can catch the final bit of the movie if you’re lucky.

The movie progressed and before Harry truly and well realized it, the three of them were dozed off on the couch. Only when he heard the soft footsteps in the house – after he had showed Claire where he kept the spare key – did his eyes blink open.

Claire watched him with an amused smile, eyes darting over Atlas and Finn who were both asleep on parts of his body.

“This is cute.” She whispered. Harry yawned softly, “Sorry, fell asleep.”

“I can see that.” She sat down on the couch next to Atlas and stroked his back, “Baby?”

Atlas nuzzled further into Harry and Claire shook her head with a smile, “He’s taking the moment to his advantage.”

“He can’t cuddle you like that?”

“No,” Claire exhaled, “hurts my boobs.”

Harry chuckled, “Right. So I take it the date wasn’t a success?”

“A big fat no.” Claire sighed, “God, where am I supposed to meet a decent guy these days. I swear, every app I have downloaded has only lead me to horrible evenings like this. Maybe I should just stay single forever.”

“Yeah, come over to the dark side. It’s fun here.” Harry joked and Claire leaned back in the couch. She wore a sundress with sleeves tonight, pushing it a little in these rather cold temperatures. But Harry had yet to see her in pants whenever she went on a date, it was always a dress.

“So boat shoes…” Harry mused and Claire groaned, “I know.”

“Well, at least it wasn’t flip-flops. Like that guy you went out with a few weeks back.”

“Am I supposed to see the silver lining here?”

Harry smiled and it was quiet for a moment, “You want a drink? Or some food?”

Claire yawned, “No, thanks. I think we’re just going to go home.”

“Really?” His voice jumped a little, “I mean,” Harry shrugged while clearing his throat, “you could stay a bit. Or sleep in the guest room with Atlas. He’s asleep anyway.”

“Harry,” Claire laughed, “I know we’re friends but we’re a bit too old for sleepovers, no?”

Friends.

Well, that hurt.

Harry didn’t protest when Claire gently woke Atlas up, who immediately cuddled into her instead. She kissed his forehead, “Wanna go home?”

“Mhm.” He sleepily responded. Claire picked him up, wincing a bit at the ache in her back. Atlas weighed a bit too much to still be carried by her, but he was too sleepy. Harry gently nudged Finn off, who didn’t wake and rested on a pillow instead, before he let Claire and Atlas out.

“Bye.” He waved in a whisper and Claire waved back once she put Atlas in the passenger seat, “Bye!”

Harry groaned to himself once Claire was out of sight. Friends. Friends. God damn it. He knew it. He had let it go on for too long and now he was friendzoned. He was literally her mum-friend, the one she gossiped to about other guys. Holy fuck.

Harry ran his palms over his face and sighed out, picking up Finn from the couch to carry him to bed and then go to sleep himself.

With the colder temperatures approaching, the next few weeks consisted of thicker clothes and spending less time outside. It got a bit harder for Harry to entertain the boys as they couldn’t go in the pool or play outside too much. It was basically waiting for snow now.

December just rolled in and Harry was sitting in his car, waiting for Finn to be done with school and to take him home. He used to always wait outside his car but it was too cold now, so he waited inside. His eyes scanned the street in search of Claire’s old Toyota. They had seen each other on Friday after she came back from another date, dressed in heels, stockings and a skirt. It was a cute look on her, accentuating her figure.

She said it wasn’t horrible this time but there wasn’t really a connection there, so it would stick to the one date. Harry hummed at that, and he couldn’t really say he minded all that much. He found himself looking forward to her texts, or the moments she’d come home after another disappointment of a date, spilling to him. Even if he was in the friend zone, it still cheered him up to see her.

Dare he say, it was the highlight of his week right now.

So he scanned the streets, not seeing her car. Not when the bell rang and the children were let out. Harry exited his car, a wide grin on his face as Finn ran over to him excitedly.

“Hi, m’love.” Harry crouched down to take Finn into a hug, spotting a blonde head of hair in the corner of his eye. He patted Finn on the shoulder, “Do we need to take Atlas home today?”

Finn shook his head, “No, he said someone’s picking him up.”

Harry frowned slightly, scanning the line of parents until he spotted Atlas, walking over to a girl with black hair and a cigarette between her fingers. She hardly paid him attention and his head was a little low. Soon enough, they made way to the bus station and disappeared from sight.

Harry refrained from texting Claire that night. It could be crossing a line, asking if she was okay. They had never really done that before and usually texted in a very casual way or to discuss picking up Atlas.

He didn’t see her the remainder of the week and it was nearing Christmas break now. Although Harry vowed to never pull his kid into this, he couldn’t help himself but question Finn on Friday.

“So… Are you sad that Atlas hasn’t been here all week?” He asked as they were having dinner, just the two of them.

Finn shrugged. He wasn’t a kid to speak out of line, which is why the poor-comment he made about Claire shocked Harry so much. He had raised Finn to be very polite and respectful. He had taught him that whenever a friend told him a secret, he were to keep it to build an keep the trust. It’s why he felt like guilty now, prying.

“He said it’s busy at home.” Finn answered and Harry flicked his eyes to him, “Busy?”

“Mhm.” Finn nodded, “With his mummy. He says she’s not feeling too well so he stays with her.”

Harry slowly nodded, “That’s nice of him.”

“It is.” Finn agreed.

Silence fell over the dinner table and Harry cringed at himself, unable to let the topic go, “Did Finn mention why Claire’s feeling a little poorly?”

Finn softly shrugged as he poked his food, “He says her face hurts.”

Harry near dropped his fork, stomach twisting in discomfort as he heard the words coming from Finn’s mouth. He softly cleared his throat, “Her face hurts?”

Finn was more interested in his food, simply nodding as he continued eating and Harry finally dropped it. He had a pretty clear idea as to why Claire’s face would hurt. He tightly gripped his fork, staring at his phone on the table in contemplation whether or not to text her. If it was crossing a line.

They had known each other for months now but never really dipped into that part of their friendship – as Claire would call it. Their talks were mostly playful or consisting of their children. They didn’t actually know much about one another on a personal level, they never had conversations like that and Harry wasn’t sure if this was pushing it or not.

So he left it at that. And a few days later, she reached out to him. Claire texted him, saying a guy asked her out on a date on Friday, asking him if it was okay if Atlas stayed the evening and if Harry had the time.

He responded faster than ever, immediately agreeing. Even though the idea that she was going on a date gnawed at him and he was searching high and low for the courage to ask her out himself – it still made his chest flutter that he was going to see her and talk to her.

The gnawing feel overpowered though, especially when he opened his door and she was there in a silk mini dress with tights and a dark purple loose cardigan over her shoulders to keep her warm. The cold was biting and even to drop Atlas off, Harry shortly invited her in.

Only when she was in the lights of the kitchen, could he take a decent look at her.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened to your face?” Was the first thing flying out of his mouth. Luckily for Harry, both Finn and Atlas were out of earshot. Claire exhaled and tilted her head to the side, “Is it really that obvious? I thought I covered it.”

She looked at him with big, round eyes. Her blonde hair was in soft waves laying over her back and all he could really see was the bruise on her cheekbone. He could tell it had faded and had gone towards a muted purple colour with hints of green. He could also see the layer of make-up she had put on over that.

“It’s… I mean, I can tell, yeah. It looks like a shadow.” He explained. Claire sighed, “Great. That guy’s gonna think I’m some crazy woman.”

“What happened?” Harry asked again. Claire took a moment and forced him a smile as she tried to busy herself with the strap of her bag, “Just me being clumsy.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “I don’t believe that for a second. Why did you have Belle pick up Atlas every single day this week?”

“Because I was working and couldn’t do it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged, “So? You could’ve asked me. Been doing it for the past few months with pleasure, so why relay on Belle again?”

“She asked, said she could use the money.” Claire shrugged and Harry huffed, “That doesn’t sound like you. Seems unlikely.”

“Yeah, I’m just that much of a bitch, aren’t I?” She responded bitterly, shaking her head to herself, “I don’t know what the big deal is. You got a week free of me and Atlas.”

“Didn’t ask for a week free of either you or Atlas. Neither did Finn.” It sounded like a dig, and Claire flicked her eyes up in shock of his words. They sounded venomous and angry, as if Finn had been unhappy this week without Atlas here in the evenings, and it was Claire’s fault. Harry continued, “Besides, I think the real reason wasn’t you being a nice person to Belle. I think the real reason was that you didn’t want me or Finn to see you with your face beaten up, which is why you hid all week.”

His voice softened and Claire’s stare hardened too. She inhaled a shaky breath, trying to recompose herself even if her heart was hammering violently and she could feel the lump in her throat.

“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Harry.” She murmured, “If a person shows up with bruises and you have a feeling they’re not telling you the truth, there’s a reason for that. Don’t fucking pry it out of me like that, and why on earth do you even think you have the right or the audacity to do so? I don’t owe you any sort of explanation.”

He opened his mouth but she cut him off, “No, I don’t want to fucking hear it. You don’t get a free pass into my personal life just because my son likes you and we’re acquainted.”

It had gone from friends to acquaintances now. Harry felt the jab to his chest, knowing he had fucked up tremendously. Claire was breathing heavily as she sniffled once, “Now, I’m going to go on a date and attempt to enjoy it. I’ll see you later.” She strode past him and didn’t wait for Harry to let her out. The door slammed harshly until the pictures of Astrid and Finn on the walls rattled and Harry was left in silence.

He sat brooding that night. Checking his phone constantly for updates. Claire’s dates had never been this quiet. Usually she at least texted him when she arrived to let him know what the guy was wearing. There’d be texts throughout if her date said something disgusting or stupid, and at the end of the night to update him on if they had split the check or not.

It had been hours and there hadn’t been anything. With each buzz, he hastily grabbed his phone only to find it was either his mum or some notification of an e-mail he didn’t care for. His leg bobbed impatiently as he sat through another movie night with Finn and Atlas. And there was nothing that could take his mind off of things.

So when he had put the boys to bed and sat down on the couch again to check his phone, it was still empty. He drew up a message to send her but deleted it again, realizing his apologies would never come across through text while she was out with another man. He had to tell her in person, so he forced himself to stay awake.

Claire never came.

She never texted him, she simply never showed up. Harry stayed up for a few hours until midnight passed and then one in the morning, and then two in the morning. His lids felt droopy before he dragged himself to bed with the harsh realization that Claire was spending the night with her date.

He knew. She’d never go home to sleep by herself and leave Atlas here. She always picked him up. The only reason she wouldn’t pick him up, is if she was sleeping with him at his house or in a hotel room.

She was getting fucked, having sex, and Harry knew it.

The dates in the past hadn’t bothered him that much because they always ended up being assholes or losers and Claire was never truly interested in any of them. She never minded that there wasn’t a second date and simply kept swiping on Tinder until finding someone else.

In all the months they had been doing this, she had never spent the night with someone. It made Harry’s chest sink so deep that it hurt. It physically hurt, knowing she was with someone else. Who got to kiss her, touch her, smell her and taste her. Hear her, feel her, be inside of her.

His fists balled as he suddenly couldn’t catch sleep after that realization. He was so fucking jealous.

Harry hardly slept, but when his phone buzzed at around eight in the morning, he was wide awake.

Message from: Claire.

I’ll be there in like ten minutes.

He jolted up in bed and hastily went into the bathroom to freshen up and brush his teeth. Both boys were still asleep but Harry didn’t know for how long. He rushed down the stairs to be there for when she arrived, and like clockwork he heard gentle taps against the door.

He saw her and it only confirmed his suspicions. Her face was free of make-up and her hair was in a bun, but she was wearing the same clothes as the night before. The bruise was more prominent now with the absence of make-up, but what he could see was a fresh bruise. In the form of a lovebite at the base of her neck. It wasn’t that deep or dark, but he noticed straightaway.

Harry cleared his throat, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Claire mumbled, “Is Atlas up yet?”

“He’s not. D’you want to come in? I’ll make some coffee.”

Claire hesitated and eventually followed him inside of the familiar house. She sat down on the barstool she had been sitting in that first time she spent the day here and Harry had his back to her, working his coffee machine.

He swallowed through the lump in his throat, “So I take it you had a good date?”

“You could say that.” Claire breathed. Harry pressed his lips together, keeping his back to her. Claire cleared her throat, “We’re actually going out again next week.”

He turned around in lightning speed, “What?”

Claire blinked, “We’re going out again next week.” She repeated in a soft voice. Harry felt his fingers tightly gripping the countertop, “Like… like a second date?”

“Mhm.”

His knees weakened and he felt the stinging behind his lids, quickly turning around again to face the coffee machine, “That’s great.”

“It is.” Claire agreed, “He’s nice.”

They fell into silence and Harry poured her a cup of coffee as Claire drew a breath, “I can ask Belle, you know? To watch him. Next week.”

Harry immediately shook his head, “No way. Besides, it’s Christmas break. I’m sure Belle will want to do something else than babysit. And I don’t mind. We’re going to set up the tree, I’m sure Atlas will like that.”

“He will.” Claire nodded, “He’s been wanting a tree for a long time. We don’t have room in the apartment.”

Harry flicked his eyes to her, “Right.”

She forced him a smile and they fell into silence again. Harry realized he had never heard silence quite this fucking loud.

***

The week moved agonizingly slow. Claire showed up at school again, her bruise now faded. She picked up Atlas and shot a brief smile to Harry and Finn before spending the evening with her little man.

They cuddled and played board games, even some video games. It was always a task to entertain Atlas during school breaks. Claire couldn’t stay away from work so she usually organized camps for him or he spent a little more time with his father.

Not this time. Claire refused. She didn’t mind finding sitters and paying for them as long as Atlas didn’t spend any more time with Evan than absolutely necessary.

The had realized, after last weekend. After Atlas witnessed the abuse Evan put her through, that she would do everything in her power to keep him away. She wanted to give Evan a chance to be a father to Atlas, but he let him down over and over again. And mostly, Claire didn’t want Atlas to look up to Evan. And inherit some of his less nice qualities, like hitting women.

She couldn’t even imagine – and the thought made her sick – that Atlas would grow up to be like his father. It had resulted in more calls with her lawyer because she was getting slightly desperate for the money Evan owed her.

What had been taking her mind off things, was the prospect of her second date with Alexander. He had been an absolute sweetheart during their first date, so much so that Claire had felt butterflies. She opened up about Atlas and life as a single mum, and he was one of the first who didn’t laugh at her when she said she worked at Burger King. He noticed the bruise but didn’t ask her about it, besides wondering if she was in any pain.

She was, after a moment, from smiling so wide. So he gently kissed her at the end of the night and things got heated. Claire didn’t hesitate when he asked her to come to his apartment and they had spent a night between the sheets. Alexander had some stuff to learn, but Claire could be patient and guide him so he could learn how to satisfy her. She had searched high and low for an orgasm all night while giving him two, but it still didn’t mean it wasn’t fun.

Harry’s eyes had felt heavy on her when she went to drop Atlas off. Claire knew she looked good. She wore black again, a form-fitting dress to show off her curves with high heels to elevate her. She wore a bit of make-up but nothing too crazy and her hair was pinned back with a little butterfly clip.

His eyes had dragged up and down her form, boosting Claire’s confidence tremendously. She could see the heaviness in his eyes as they made a bit of polite small talk. She knew he was sorry about the way he spoke to her the week prior and she knew he didn’t like the fact she was going on a second date with Alexander.

She saw it in his stance, in his eyes. Jealousy. It was fine, Claire felt. Her and Harry did spent a lot of time together and even she’d feel a slight jab to her chest if he’d suddenly announce he was dating someone. In some stupid, crazy way it almost felt like they both had a claim on one another. But neither said anything and Claire wasn’t patient. Maybe she was taunting him, and part of her was. The dates in the past few months had all been disappointing and she expected the date with Alexander to be the same.

But he pleasantly surprised her and Claire had fun and felt seen. After the way Harry had spoken to her, it’s what she needed. And she couldn’t sit and wait around for him to figure out his feelings. She was moving on.

Moving on wasn’t easy though when your date doesn’t show up.

Claire looked like an idiot, sitting alone at the table in the restaurant. She checked her watch again, noticing Alexander was forty minutes late. She had double-checked their reservation to make sure she got the time and date right. She had texted him, called him, without answer. Her texts didn’t even go through, making her think he had her blocked.

She sipped slowly on her red wine until she had been there an hour, and she decided enough was enough. It was nine in the evening when she asked for the check to pay for her wine. The waiter shot her a sympathetic look that Claire brushed off, and she exited the restaurant.

Driving back to Harry’s house, she hadn’t notified him. She had only dropped Atlas off about an hour and a half ago and she suspected the three of them to just be sitting on the couch, watching a movie.

Claire shivered in the evening air as the had rang the door, hearing the familiar footsteps of Harry rushing over to the door before opening up with a frown. It softened at the sight of her. He hadn’t expected Claire here, an hour after she had left. The exciting glint she had in her eyes when leaving, was replaced by something he couldn’t really place.

“What happened?” He asked and Claire shrugged, fighting the embarrassed flush in her cheeks, “He stood me up.” She mumbled under her breath, “Can you grab Atlas? I really want to go home.”

“He stood you up?” Harry frowned, “What the fuck?”

Claire rolled her eyes, “Harry, it’s nothing. I’d just like to leave.”

“We’re in the middle of Monopoly.” He exhaled, “Look, just come in for a bit, you must be freezing.”

Claire hesitated. All she really wanted to do was go home with Atlas and cry in her shower before cuddling him to sleep. Harry opened the door wider, ushering her in, “Come on.”

And so she did. Her feet carried her into the house, met with the familiar warmth that Harry’s house exuded.

“Mummy!” Atlas sounded exited at the sight of his mother, jumping out of his chair to hug her. Claire smiled and kissed his forehead, “Hi, bub. ‘M back soon, aren’t I?”

Atlas giggled and jumped around, clearly very pleased with Claire joining the Monopoly-party.

“D’you want some tea? Or wine?” Harry offered.

“Wine.” Claire breathed immediately and Harry nodded, taking two glasses and filling them with some red wine as Finn and Atlas filled Claire in on how the game was going so far. She didn’t seem too in it with her head but nodded either way, quickly catching up on Harry’s strategy on losing on purpose to let either of the other boys win.

Claire followed along, playing without thinking and losing on purpose. Her wine was finished by the time Finn was crowned as the Monopoly-king.

As Finn and Atlas quickly settled down in front of the television, Claire and Harry were left to clear out the board game from the dinner table they had played at. Claire had put her hair up again with one of Harry’s pencils as they both tucked Monopoly back into the box.

“Some more wine?” Harry suggested. Claire exhaled and shook her head, “No, thanks, I still have to drive.”

“You’re not going home, are you?” Harry frowned, leaning against one of the chairs, “Claire, just stay here. You can sleep in the bed with Atlas. Or there’s even another guest room if you want.”

And Claire was too tired to argue. She timidly gave in and lifted her glass, “Well in that case… refill please.”

About an hour later, they had tucked their boys into bed. It was past their bedtime already but Harry and Claire agreed to cut them so slack since it was winter break and they didn’t have school for a few weeks.

“Do you want a shower? Or just some clothes of mine?”

“Just some clothes, please.” Claire responded, “’M a little cold.”

And so Harry gave her sweats, a shirt, a jumper and a pair of socks she could fit her feet in about three times. It looked a little ridiculous, but Harry had hearts in his eyes when she joined him on the sectional couch. She looked cuddly and soft, and her eyes were a little heavy from being tired and sad.

“Are you tired or do you want to watch a movie or something?” Harry asked as he popped his feet up on the coffee table. Claire was on the other side of the couch with a blanket around her, “Your couch is so comfortable, I’m probably going to fall asleep here.” She contently sighed, “Don’t even need a bed.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her nuzzle into the pillow. With her feet stretched his way, he gently tapped her shin, “How come you’re so tired?”

“’S just been a long week.” She sighed, “Arranging things with my boss for the winter break, so I can hire sitters throughout the day but can stay with Atlas at night.” She explained, “Don’t want him to spend his break with his father.”

Harry took a sip of his wine and softly exhaled, “Can I ask why not?”

Claire flicked her eyes up, appreciating the way Harry was more careful in asking her this time instead of how he approached the subject last time. She swallowed, “Well, he’s abusive.” She softly spoke, avoiding his eyes, “I don’t want Atlas around someone like him.”

“Would he hurt Atlas?” Harry frowned and Claire shrugged, “I don’t think so. But then again, I also didn’t think he’d ever hurt me.”

“He hit you, didn’t he? Two weeks ago?” Harry softly asked and Claire let out a breath, “Mhm.”

“Shit, Claire…” He cursed, shaking his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“’S not your fault.”

“No, I’m sorry for prying. I-I had a hunch and I should’ve just left it at that, it wasn’t fair of me.” Harry apologized, staring at his fingers before he lifted his head and turned to face her. Claire had a sad look on her face, “Just another thing added to the plate this week. His lawyer is literally such a dick. I just… I want this all to be over. To cut ties, to never have to see him again. But I also want Atlas to know his father.” She shrugged, “It’s hard.”

“I can imagine.” Harry sympathized, stroking his fingers over her covered shin. He licked his lip before continuing, “Were you two together for a long time?”

Claire sat up and hugged her legs to her body, her chin on her knee, “Few years. I made some wrong friends in school and went through a phase. I used drugs sometimes, I drank a lot, I partied, dropped out of school… I met Evan during that time and was already on thin ice with my parents. I sort of moved in with him in this little studio. He was – uh… a dealer. And he used a lot. Sort of pulled me into that.” She softly explained.

Claire closed her eyes for a moment, “I even used when pregnant. I didn’t know I was pregnant for the longest time and just kept drinking and doing drugs, I-I had no idea.” She murmured and Harry’s heart cracked, watching her as she blinked away some tears, “It’s literally a miracle that Atlas was born and that he was completely fine.”

It was silent for a bit as Claire relived some memories in her brain. Harry turned to face her more, scooting a little closer on the couch, “Was he happy that you were pregnant?”

“Ecstatic, actually.” Claire mumbled, “He was so happy. Of course, he was high most of the time. When sober, he hardly acknowledged me. He was… very difficult to read. When he was high, he was super happy or the complete opposite. When he was sober, he barely showed any emotion at all.”

Claire took a breath, “The moment my parents knew I was pregnant, they cut me off completely. I haven’t been in contact with them ever since. So I moved in with Evan permanently. Neither of us had a job and he got money from dealing, but it was a dangerous life. He got threatened a lot and was always stressed, he worked that out on me. He hit me, always when he was high. I forgave him, I had nowhere to go.” She shrugged, shaking her head to herself, “It was difficult for a few years. When Atlas was around two, I finally got away. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

The television was softly playing in the background but neither Harry or Claire paid it any attention. She lifted her head to send him a weak smile, “I’m happy now. Atlas is amazing and I love him so much. It’s just… hard sometimes. I don’t want to have to deal with him anymore, it just brings back so many memories and he keeps thinking he’s got some claim over me.” She nibbled her lip, “Atlas goes to his place sometimes on a Saturday. Like… once a month or something. He never stays the night. Two weeks ago he went there and obviously shared stuff about his life. About Finn, about… you.”

“Shit.” Harry murmured and Claire hummed, “Yeah. Evan lost it. I went to pick up Atlas again and he freaked out, said I was… well, every name in the book, really. Doesn’t usually bother me, but Atlas was around a-and I fought back, told him to stop. He just – well, yeah.” She pointed to the faded bruise on her face and sniffed once, “And that’s that.”

“Atlas saw?” Harry whispered and Claire nodded, “Yep.”

“Holy fuck… that guy is insane.” He scooted a little closer again, “Claire, you need like a restraining order. And you need full custody.”

“I’m trying.” She sighed, “I swear, these things take so long. I’ve been trying for months now, years maybe. It’s really not easy.”

Harry exhaled, “No, I know. I know.”

“Do you…” Claire asked warily, “do you have full custody?”

“Mhm.” Harry shortly nodded, “Astrid voluntarily wrote away her rights. She wanted nothing to do with Finn or me, so it was an easy arrangement. It’s more difficult when both parties fight the other.”

Claire frowned, “She… She chose to not be a part of Finn’s life?”

He shortly cleared his throat, “Yeah. Astrid… she’s a complex person, Claire. ‘M not even really sure how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want.” She softly spoke and Harry shook his head, “I think we’re sharing traumas here and it’s only fair if I share mine.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but there was heaviness in the air. Harry licked his lip, “We met when we were young and got married. Always wanted a family. It didn’t work for some time until Astrid got pregnant with Finn. From the moment she was pregnant I just… saw her change. It’s like she felt suffocated all of a sudden and only then realized how much her life was going to change as a mum. She did all these things, took all these trips spontaneously, like she was scared to be an adult all of a sudden. I sort of let her do her thing, figuring it was just what she needed at that point.”

Claire listened as Harry continued, “When he was born, it got even worse. It was like she resented him. We talked to therapists who brought up the whole postpartum depression thing, but Astrid said it was more than that. She didn’t want anything to do with Finn and actually tried to be as far away from him. Her motherly instincts never kicked in. She took off with her friends, took trips, partied and whatnot, always leaving me here with him. It was like she regressed back to her life in her early twenties. We hardly saw one another, she missed a lot of his first few years. She just didn’t want him. And then one day she just announced that she was leaving. Moving to some island to start over, signing away her rights and… she was gone. We got divorced easily and I’ve been a single parent ever since.”

“Wow.” Claire breathed, “That’s… so crazy. When was the last time you saw her?”

Harry scratched above his brow, “Probably… four years ago? I have no idea where she is right now, or what she’s doing. She’s completely messed it up for me, I don’t want anything to do with her ever again.” He sounded bitter and Claire shortly nodded, “Understandable.”

“It’s just like a sense of responsibility. I don’t know…” Harry mumbled, “We actively tried to have a baby, it’s not like it was a surprise.”

They fell into a silence until Harry exhaled and held up his glass, “Cheers to our exes.”

“Cheers.” Claire chuckled before shaking her head, “How sad are we.”

Harry took a sip, “We’re not sad.” He argued with a soft smile and Claire puffed out a breath, “I am. Can’t believe I got stood up. That was super embarrassing.”

“It’s honestly insane. He’s a fucking asshole.”

Claire pressed her lips together, “I mean, if he just wanted sex, he could’ve said so. I’m not stupid, like I get it. Just fucking tell me the truth and don’t string me along.”

Harry shot her a sly smile, “At least you got an orgasm out of it.”

“He did.” Claire corrected him in a shrug, her voice nothing but a gentle mumble. Harry looked at Claire over the rim of his glass, “Hm?” He wasn’t sure if he had heard her correctly.

She nibbled her lip, avoiding his eyes as she let out a soft breath, “Well – he did. I didn’t – uh… he didn’t get me off.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Harry sounded in complete disbelief before throwing his head back with a laugh.

Claire blushed red in embarrassment and rolled her eyes, “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Harry laughed, shaking his head, “Holy shit, I can’t believe this guy?! He didn’t even get you off and then has the nerve to ghost you?!”

She took another sip, “Well, yeah.”

“He’s literally such a dick, what the hell…” Harry mumbled, “So was he just like… bad or anything?”

Claire’s red cheeks didn’t disappear as Harry continued the subject and she let out a shuddery breath, “I mean, not really. Although actually, yes. He tried, I think.” The more Claire thought about it, the more she hesitated. Sighing out, she forced Harry a small smile, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does, though. Who the fuck does he think he is.”

Harry’s anger was sort of infectious and she felt the fire in her chest, “You know what? Yes. You’re right. It does matter. Because I pulled out all my tricks, you know? Even gave him head! He came twice!” She rambled and Harry’s eyes widened. Claire let out a sigh, “I just want – you know?” She used hand gestures now and Harry watched intently, “What?” He asked in confusion.

Claire put her glass of wine down on the coffee table with a slight slam, “I just want a fucking guy to just… grab me! Like – “ She pressed her lips together, “just someone to throw me around, have his fucking way with me, shut me up. Make it rough, you know?”

It was Harry’s turn to get red cheeks as he listened to Claire explaining her sexual desires. She seemed lost in her head, sighing again with tense shoulders, “And just claim me?! I don’t know, just like fucking take me and kiss me a-“

Claire couldn’t finish her sentence before feeling Harry’s lips on hers. He had lunged forward at her, near knocking her backwards as his mouth was on hers. Claire yelped in surprise at the short kiss. Harry was panting as he pulled back, only an inch or two. His wine-stained lips brushed hers.

“W-What are you doing?” Claire murmured.

“God, just shut up.” Harry groaned, watching Claire’s wide eyes as he grabbed her waist and yanked her body on top of his. Claire near flew through the air, gasping in surprise as she found herself perched up on Harry’s lap with her thighs on each side of his. Her chest heaved in shallow breaths, hands bracing herself on his shoulders as she stared down at him.

His eyes were dark and deep, lust dripping from him as he sinfully slipped his hands up her covered thighs. They stared at each other for just a moment before Harry grabbed the back of her head to pull her down and reconnect their lips.

A moan from Claire got muffled against his lips. Her fingers dug into his shoulders before moving into his hair, cupping his jaw and sliding into his neck. She touched wherever she could reach, feeling his strong arms wrapped around her form to keep her tightly pressed into his chest. A tug on her hips made her scoot up on his lip, her mouth parting at the bulge in his sweatpants.

“Fuck.” Claire moaned, pushing her tongue into Harry’s mouth. Claire reciprocating was something Harry could’ve only dreamed of. Everything she had been describing was exactly what he had been wanting to do for weeks now, but felt too unsure to do so. He didn’t want to scare her off, yet now he felt fucking unhinged.

The moment his fingers tugged at the jumper covering Claire’s body, she caught on. Her blonde hair flew around as they broke apart and she tugged it off, leaving her in one of his shirts.

“Fucking finally.” Claire moaned as Harry pulled her hips down on his and her head rolled back on her shoulders, “Please – oh god…” She was bucking back into him, hips sensually rocking in wave-like motions to stimulate him. Harry felt the heat radiating from her core, his head dropping back on the couch, “Jesus.” He hissed in bliss.

He lifted his head again, brushing his lips over her pulse-point, “Should we go to the bedroom?”

“Uh-huh.” Claire panted, “Please, I need you.”

A surge of confidence shot through Harry, “Yeah?”

Claire wrapped her fingers in his hair, “Yes.” She whispered, “So bad.”

Harry’s lips nipped on her neck, “Do you need me or do you just need to get fucked?”

“You.” Claire spoke without missing a beat, “Been wanting this for so long.”

Harry pulled back with surprise written all over his face, “What? Really?”

“Yes.” She chuckled. Harry frowned, “Why didn’t you say anything? I-I’ve liked you for months.”

“I know.”

His cheeks turned pink again and Claire smiled in amusement, brushing her thumb over his bottom lip. Harry swallowed thickly, “Y-You know? And you never said or did anything? Kept going on dates with other guys?”

“Well, I could’ve been wrong.” Claire shrugged, “Didn’t want to make a fool of myself and ruin our arrangement or ruin anything for Atlas.”

Harry was about to say something but Claire beat him to it, biting her lip and brushing her hair over her shoulder. Harry’s eyes dropped to the faded lovebite on her neck and his throat tightened as Claire batted her lashes, “Besides, it was funny to see you a little jealous.”

“Played me, hm?” Harry growled, tangling a hand in her hair and Claire gasped at the tight hold he had on her scalp, pulling her to the side a little as his mouth latched onto the still existing hickey. Claire’s eyes rolled back, her hips bucking on their own accord as he deepened the bruise, claiming her. She was ruining her underwear, a sob stuck in her throat from how desperate she was and how badly she needed him.

“Still funny?” Harry licked over the fresh bruise, throbbing and angry purple to disturb Claire’s skin. His fingers dug into her hip, “Answer me.”

“F-Fuck, no.” Claire panted, “God, Harry, please.”

He pulled her hips again, dragging her up his growing cock as he exhaled a shaky sigh. Claire blinked her eyes open, somehow sensing his hesitance, “Are you okay?” She questioned softly, cupping his cheeks. Her nose bumped his and Harry puckered his lips for her to give him a gentle kiss.

“Yeah.” He rasped, “I might – uh… be a little rusty. ‘S been a while.”

Claire nodded, “Okay.”

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “No, it’s like been… years.” He mumbled the last part, too embarrassed to actually say out loud. Claire froze on top of him, staring at his eyes which refused to look back at her, “Wait, are you serious? You haven’t had sex in years?”

“Yep.” He exhaled, “It’s, uh… well, I’ve been with women after Astrid, just not many. Had a few one night stands and it just… well, didn’t really do it for me. And I just stopped then, focussing completely on raising Finn and then it didn’t happen anymore.”

Claire was quiet for a moment, taking in the information before she nodded, “Okay, that makes sense. But you… masturbate?”

“Mhm.”

“And… do you want this?” She checked. Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Fuck, yes. Wanted this for weeks.”

“Weeks?”

He flicked his eyes up, “Months, actually.”

Claire kissed him, “Take me to bed, Harry.”

He didn’t hesitate, grabbing Claire underneath her thighs to pick her up. She was astounded at his strength. She had seen Harry shirtless by the pool and had seen him in shirts all the time with exposed arms. She had never witnessed him working out or anything, but he was strong enough to not blink while carrying her up the stairs.

“We’re gonna have to be quiet.” He murmured into her neck, “Don’t want to wake our boys.”

“Definitely not.” Claire agreed.

Harry’s foot kicked open the door of his bedroom, “What I meant is you’re going to have to be quiet.” He quipped with a sly smirk as he dropped Claire on the mattress. She watched him, standing at the foot of the bed to rip off his shirt and leave him topless. Claire’s thigh quivered at the sight of his muscular body and the many tattoos. His abs flexed as he moved and she was mesmerized.

Harry felt another boost of confidence at the hungry look in Claire’s eyes. She laid on her beck and he took her ankle, sliding off the huge sock he had given her before moving over to the other foot, “How do you want it?”

Claire wanted to moan. She tipped her head back with closed eyes, biting her lip, “Hard.” She whimpered, “Deep.”

Harry chuckled, “A little greedy, hm?”

After taking off her socks, he tugged at the leg holes of her sweatpants. Due to the size of the clothes, they easily slipped off of Claire’s hips and thighs, easy for Harry to take off. Every inch of her legs became visible to him, as did the red thong she was wearing. His mouth watered, chucking the sweatpants over his shoulders before climbing on top of her.

Claire parted her legs immediately, arms reaching out to pull him into her. She hungrily kissed him, tangling a hand back in his hair as her legs curled around his thighs to keep him close, close enough to feel him between her thighs. With the disappearance of her sweatpants, she felt him much more clear, rubbing against her pussy.

Harry was hard as a rock, so turned on by her and this moment and the way he had imagined this. He had never been the most spontaneous person – something Astrid loved to complain about – so it took him a lot of courage to just grab Claire and hope for the best. He didn’t want to scare her off or cross any boundaries, and somehow they didn’t really know each other on a level that he knew if this was all okay or not.

But the way she whimpered in his mouth and desperately pulled at him, was enough proof that she needed him badly. And according to her, it was him she needed. No one else.

Claire got impatient, reaching for his hand to bring it between them. She left it at that, handing the reigns over to Harry. His cheeks turned slightly pink and with their lips still brushing together in kisses, Harry nervously skimmed his fingers over the hem of Claire’s panties.

She shuddered, holding her breath, “God – Harry, get on with it.” She pleaded. His eyes closed with a guttural moan, slipping his fingers inside her underwear to stroke between her folds with the rough pads of them. Claire immediately squeaked and jumped in sensitivity of the touch and Harry latched his lips onto her neck again to silence himself.

His fingers moved up and down to feel her, underwear tenting around his hand as he felt her so wet and warm for him, it could make him cry. Slick, dripping pussy as Claire opened her legs wider to allow him more room. It spread her for him, letting his fingers graze over every ridge and bump she had until he settled the pads of his fingers on her clit.

She gasped desperately, her legs so tense and her entire body so worked up. She wasn’t sure if she was hurting him with the firm grip on his hair, but she needed something to ground herself. Arching her back up, she whined, “F-Fuck me. Please.”

Harry groaned again, a sound that went straight between Claire’s legs as he kept touching her clit. He rubbed circles to arouse her more, to get her all wet and open. Harry knew he was rather well-endowed and even though Claire had sex on a much more regular basis than him, it would be presumptuous to assume the guy who couldn’t get her off last week was anywhere near his size.

“Need to get you ready.” Harry mumbled into her neck, lifting his head and finding the strength to look in her eyes. It hit him like a sledgehammer, the look she sent him. Horny, desperate, near crying for him. Her eyes glazed over, her lips in an inviting, swollen pout and her cheeks flushed.

“I am.” Claire breathed out, “So ready. P-Please.”

Harry bit his lip, “’M not teasing you here, Claire. You’ll thank me for it.” At that, he grabbed one of her hands to guide it to his crotch, inviting her to touch him. Claire did so without hesitation, panting out as she fought with the elastic band of his boxers before finally getting her hand in. She paused immediately, eyes flicking up and widening dramatically, “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Harry smirked arrogantly, “Still think you’re ready?”

Her hand felt small around the girth of his erection, stroking curiously from thick base to swollen tip. If there was anything Harry knew, it was that he was fucking ready for her.

Claire let out a shuddery exhale as her head thudded back into the mattress, “Yes, please – I can’t wait. I need you.” She panted, restlessly writhing on the mattress, “I need you inside of me, I need it to hurt. I can take it.”

“Holy shit.” Harry cursed, bucking his hips into her hand. He stared at her, losing his sense of hesitation as he licked his lip, “You have to tell me if I need to stop, okay?”

“Uh-huh. Promise.”

“Good girl.” He whispered, removing his hand from in between her legs. He quickly brought the tips of his fingers to his mouth to get them clean, his tongue swirling around casually before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. Claire was fucking dumbfounded.

Harry jumped off the bed, rummaging one of his drawers as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “Are you going to tie me up?” She sounded almost hopeful and Harry chuckled, shaking his head, “No, I like having your hands in my hair. ‘M looking for a condom.”

“Right.” Claire took it upon herself to slip out of the shirt she was wearing and then remove her underwear to leave her completely naked. She laid on Harry’s dark blue sheets, staring up at the beamed ceiling of his house as Harry grumbled under his breath, closing the drawer to open another, “Found it!” He cheered.

He turned around in triumph but his smile quickly dropped as he laid eyes on a naked Claire. His throat ran dry, seeing the length of her torso, the dips of her ribs and her chest. Full, firm tits and hardened nipples sitting up and waiting to be taken into his mouth. The stretchmarks on her thighs, the lines of her underwear denting her skin and some faded tan lines gracing her.

“So fucking beautiful.” Harry sighed, slowly walking over to her. The pace had slowed a little bit and was less frantic now as he stood at the edge of the bed, letting his eyes drag over her. Where Claire assumed she’d feel shy, she actually felt confident. Harry’s eyes studied her and he looked mesmerized. He wasn’t judging any part of her, he just wanted to see her.

Harry exhaled shakily and shook his head to himself, “Should’ve done this way sooner.”

“I would’ve let you.” Claire teased. Harry smirked slightly as he took it upon himself to open up the square foil of the condom. He dropped his boxers, Claire’s eyes widening and her mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock bobbing up and standing up tall.

“Oh my god.” She whimpered when he shortly stroked himself before fiddling with the condom. “Wait!” Claire squeaked. Harry paused and his brows raised, “What is it?”

Claire swallowed, her eyes glued to his erection, “I want to suck you off.”

“Fuck, no.” Harry breathed, shaking his head sternly as he rolled the condom down his shaft, “If you take me in your mouth, I’m gonna cum immediately.”

Claire wanted to protest but Harry was already hovering over her, knees kicking her legs apart to allow him room. Goosebumps rose over her body at his closeness, his nose continuously brushing into hers as he had one hand around his base to guide towards her.

“Still okay?” He whispered and Claire let out a soft moan, “Yes, yes.”

“Still think your little pussy can take me?”

Her eyes shot open as a tingle of arousal ran down her spine. She bucked up while biting down her lip, somehow not expecting Harry to say anything like that. Claire fought for air, “Yes.” She rasped again, “Please.”

The second she felt Harry’s blunt tip against her opening, Claire focussed on relaxing. She attempted to spread her legs wider for him, focussing on not tensing up any of her muscles as he held the eye contact. Both their mouths opened in a breathless whine as he pushed in. He felt her walls rippling around him, fighting the intrusion for a moment. Hesitation flashed over Claire’s face for a brief second until she breathed through it, her eyes rolling back as her head lolled to the side from the stretch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet and tight.” Harry lowly commented, taking his sweet time in inching forward to fill her up. Claire was panting, her nails digging into his back as she felt the burn between her thighs. He was everywhere, and he wasn’t even fully in yet. Harry paused for a few seconds before rocking in again to get deeper. Claire bit her lip with a high moan escaping her lips.

“Quiet.” Harry whispered, kissing her shortly. She nodded frantically, “I-I know, fuck – you’re so big.”

“You can take it.”

Claire arched, Harry holding onto her waist before sliding his hand up to play with her nipple. He cupped her breast, giving a squeeze before using his thumb to tease her. He used his other hand to grip the bedding, holding himself up on his elbow.

“Fuck.” He whimpered when he finally bottomed out. Harry relaxed slightly, feeling his hips flush to Claire’s thighs. His cock twitched inside of her, a tight fit between her snug, wet walls. She was panting underneath him, the sight so erotic. He couldn’t help himself when he let go of her breast and grabbed her throat instead, giving a light squeeze while kissing her.

He swallowed down her moans as he started moving, rearing back about halfway before rocking in again. He kept the pace slow and gentle for now to let her adjust, and their tongues roamed each other’s mouths in the meantime. Harry was sure to have marks down his back from her nails as Claire clawed at him.

“Okay?” Harry checked breathlessly as he brushed his lips over hers. “Yes.” Claire confirmed, “You can go harder.”

Harry sighed, “Thank god.” And then he picked up his pace and the strength of his thrusts. The breath got knocked out of Claire’s lungs with each drop of his hips on hers, nudging up a spot so deep inside it felt near unbearable yet she still wanted more.

Harry shifted his hips, scooting closer as his lips were on her neck and he buried his face in her throat. “God, you feel so good.” He moaned, “Such a fucking tight cunt for me.”

With the constant shifting in his position, it didn’t take Harry long to find her g-spot. Claire jolted up with a high whine the moment his tip brushed up her front wall, and her legs spasmed. He could feel her gushing slightly as her muscles clamped around him tightly.

“Oh my god!” Claire moaned, causing Harry to slap his hand right over her mouth, “Keep it down.” He hissed, holding his hand to muffle her moans. A tear escaped her eye as he kept pounding her into the mattress in a murderous pace, just like she had asked him to.

“Am I getting you close, baby?” He near taunted, sweat pearling at his hairline and a smirk gracing his pink lips at the sight of her wrecked state, “Already?” He added.

Claire managed to nod and he tutted her, “Good. Found your sweet spot, didn’t I? Right…” He brought his hips back before thrusting sharply, “there?”

Claire’s eyes rolled back as she shook uncontrollably, another wave of squirt wetting Harry, who moaned at the feeling and the sight, “Fuck yes, get wet on my cock, hm? Need you to cum for me, Claire. You fucking deserve it.” He put force behind his words and power into his hips, relentlessly fucking into her.

He kept his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, and Claire sobbed as she was on the edge. Harry thought about it. Teasing her, torturing her. But her eyes were watery, her nails denting his skin and her pussy so good for him. He allowed her to cum. With two more deep thrusts, Claire convulsed. A scream ripped through her chest, muffled by Harry’s hand as he fucked her through the orgasm. Claire’s legs clenched around him as she arched and writhed.

“’S good, that’s good.” Harry praised, kissing away her tears, “Fuck, that’s so good. Y’feel so fucking amazing, cumming on my cock like that. Such a good girl.”

Claire whined against his hand, her fingers curling around his wrist to pull at his arm. Harry let go, letting Claire desperately inhale the breath her lungs so badly needed. She coughed slightly from the gagging, wheezing in air as her body trembled in the aftermath of her orgasm. Harry’s thrusts had turned into gentle grinding motions, smirking down at her, “Feel good?”

“Oh my god.” Claire whimpered, still shuddering, “S-So good. Holy shit. I’ve never had an orgasm like that.”

They both slowed down a little, Harry’s cock painfully twitching inside of her. Claire blinked her eyes open, “Can you still keep going?”

“Mhm.” Harry swallowed, “Little more. I think I could get you to cum again.”

She smiled, biting her lip, “That would be great.”

He kissed her, smiling against her lips. His heart fluttered as she ran a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp a little. Harry hummed against her lips, still inside of her, “I’m afraid I’m obsessed with you.”

“Same.” Claire breathed back without a thought, her eyes exuding warmth and comfort as she stared up at him. A slight clench of her pussy brought Harry back to his mission of the night. Getting her off again.

Without warning, he lifted up on his arms and slid back, slipping from her. Claire gasped at the loss of contact, watching dazedly as Harry leaned down between her legs and his hot mouth was on her. “Oh! Oh my god." Claire breathed, hips jolting up as he licked at her, tongue wiggling between her pussy lips and up to her clit to give a harsh suck. Claire bit her lip, “H-Harry…” She moaned.

He hummed back, sliding the flat of his tongue up her cunt before sitting up again. He licked around his lips, tasting her before tapping her thigh, “Are you gonna ride me?”

Claire was still catching her breath as she swallowed, “I don’t think my legs work.”

Harry chuckled, biting his lip, “Won’t have to do anything. Just get on top of me.” He urged her and Claire nodded, letting him help her as they switched positions. Much like on the couch, Claire straddled him. The wet of her pussy pressed into the base of his cock, grinding softly as they indulged in another making-out session.

Harry held her hair back and had one hand on her ass, cupping the flesh and squeezing, urging her to grind into him. When he felt like Claire was too scared to fully sit down on him, he slapped her ass and she gasped, no longer holding herself up.

“So beautiful.” Harry whispered, head popped up on a few pillows as Claire hovered over him. They shared little kisses as he urged her hips up to sink down on him. “God – fuck.” Claire whimpered as she took him, slowly sitting down on his cock and feeling him in a different angle.

“Good, good.” Harry praised, his eyes closing as her warm cunt swallowed him, “So fucking good.” It sounded like a slur and both took a moment to adjust again.

“Hands behind your back.” Harry instructed in a strained voice, “Fuck, ‘m not gonna last long.”

Claire quickly obliged, depending on Harry’s arms to hold her a little upright. She was leaned completely over him, face hovering over his. Harry held one hand in the back of her neck with her hair in a makeshift ponytail, and held his other hand around her throat to keep her head tilted up.

With Claire’s arms behind her back, she was completely folded up for him and she loved it. She could feel her wetness seeping from her pussy, making a mess of Harry’s thighs. He didn’t seem to mind one bit, hardly paying it any attention before he started fucking up into her.

The position made Claire gasp, her body going lax for a moment before the pleasure consumed her and she let herself get used by Harry. He was so insanely deep like this, it was almost painful but in the best way. She’d be sore, for sure. She’d feel him for days, the way he stretched her and claimed her. God, it was everything she had craved.

“Holy shit – Claire,” Harry panted, “I need you to cum again.”

“Uh-huh.” She managed to choke out, “Please, it’s so good.” Her eyes watered again and Harry groaned softly, staring at her. They kissed again, his hand no longer on her throat but affectionately cupping her cheek as her tongue slipped into his mouth.

It was like he needed that moment before turning into a full animal. Holding both hands on the makeshift ponytail, he gave her a sharp tug to have her staring up at the ceiling. With Claire folded back in half and her hands still behind her back, Harry was relentless in the way his hips snapped up and his cock moved inside of her wet pussy.

“O-Oh god, Harry!” Claire squeaked, “I’m gonna cum. So hard, fuck.” Her words were jumbled and stuttering, her eyes tightly screwed shut as her second orgasm washed over her. She was quiet this time, unable to get out a sound or a word. Harry let go of her hair and Claire dropped her face in the crook of his neck, panting out desperately as she clenched and shuddered and convulsed around him.

Harry’s eyes rolled back at the feeling, “Shit, oh god.” He cursed, sliding both hands down to her ass to knead her and keep her firmly pressed to him. He grabbed the flesh, spreading her cheeks and rolling her back down onto him as he finished inside of the condom. He was sweaty and clammy, and Claire was sprawled out on top of him without the ability to move.

Both stayed like that for a moment. Claire shuddered every so often, her muscles tensing after two harsh orgasms as Harry was melted into the bed with her on top of him. They shared gentle caresses, his fingers dancing over her spine as she stroked her thumb over his jaw, “Wow.” Claire whispered after a few minutes.

Harry lazily smiled with his eyes closed, “Yeah. Wow. Shit, that was good.”

“Mhm.” She hummed and Harry sighed, “We should clean up a bit, hm? And go to sleep?”

Claire was yawning as she agreed, “Yes.”

Grabbing her hip, Harry gently nudged her off. Claire let him, no strength in her legs as she fell on the mattress next to him. Harry’s cock slipped out of her, softening up inside of the condom and he hissed in sensitivity as he got up and headed into the en-suite bathroom to clean up and dispose of the condom.

After washing his hands, he went to get Claire. He pulled her up, “C’mon, you need to pee.” He whispered. Claire fought to keep her eyes open, fully naked as Harry helped her into the bathroom and gave her the privacy to use the toilet.

Both brushed their teeth after that and collapsed in the bed. No words were spoken when Harry pulled Claire into his side for her head to rest on his chest and her arms to wrap around him. He cuddled her back, brushing his lips over her forehead, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She whispered back, giving one more kiss to his neck before falling asleep.

Harry feared that it might be awkward in the morning, waking up with Claire after that. But it wasn’t. If anything, his heart soared as he was woken up with kisses to his chest, leading up to his neck and his jaw as her hand stroked over his side.

He shortly squeezed her body, eyes still closed, “Hey.” He rasped. Claire smiled into his neck, her leg hooked over his hips, “Hi, good morning.”

He kept his eyes closed as he lazily rolled around with her, changing the position until he was cuddled into her side with his face in her neck, “What time is it?”

“The sun’s coming up.” Claire responded in a whisper. Harry’s arms were around her and he inhaled her scent, puckering his lips, “Hmm.”

“Think we woke anyone last night?”

His lips curled into a soft smirk, remembering every second as he let out a breath, “Don’t think so, no. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” Claire whispered, shifting a little in his hold until she cupped his jaw. Harry’s eyes opened as he felt her kissing him, a few gentle pecks placed on his lips. He smiled involuntary, staring at Claire who looked giddy and sparkly in the morning.

“This is a nice way to wake up.” He whispered and she hummed, “It sure is.” They were in silence for a bit until Claire took a breath, “So what’s usually for breakfast on Saturdays?”

“Pancakes.” Harry yawned. He gently squeezed her waist, “Wanna help me?”

About ten minutes later, they were in the kitchen. Claire was dressed in her underwear and just a shirt of Harry’s, reaching well over her ass while they roamed around the kitchen to get everything for the pancakes and stealing kisses in between. Harry could hardly focus on the stupid pancakes, constantly having his hands on her and hiking up the shirt to get a peek of what was underneath.

“Harry.” Claire giggled, “The boys will be up soon.”

He stood behind her, pushing her into the countertop a little as his fingers toyed with the hem of the shirt. His lips were on her neck from behind, “We’ll hear.” He whispered, “Just a quickie.”

Claire didn’t say anything, and Harry felt her giving in as she relaxed. He smirked into her neck, “So good for me.” He murmured lowly, bunching the shirt up around her waist. He pulled back a little to stare at her ass, covered by the thin band of lace of the red thong. He bit his lip, grazing his thumb over the fabric, “Let me get a condom.” He whispered.

She whined in protest, grabbing his wrist to keep him right where he was, “No, fuck that. Just do me.” She sighed, “Fuck me bare. I wanna feel you.”

Harry groaned, not needing more convincing than that. He was quick, hooking her thong to the side and pushing his sweats down. He spat down into his hand to lube himself up, guiding between her ass cheeks to find her weeping pussy. Claire leaned over the countertop a bit more to make it easier, and Harry pushed in slowly again.

He watched, the way her fingers gripped around the edge of the countertop, the way her back tensed at the intrusion, the way her head dropped and the way her legs trembled as he entered her again.

“Are you sore?” He whispered, urging her to stand up straighter again so he could wrap his arms around her. They slipped underneath the shirt, palming her tits as Claire leaned her head back on his shoulder, “A bit, but it’s so okay.” She responded. Harry hummed, nipping on her neck as he started fucking her. He was sensitive, early in the morning. His cock was painfully hard and he sighed in bliss of being inside of her again.

The kitchen was silent apart from the steady ticking of the clock and the faint sound of a car driving by every once in a while. They breathed sharply and heavily, but both kept their moans down. The only other thing that could be heard was the sound of Harry’s hips slapping into her ass, fucking her from behind.

It didn’t feel like enough anymore, and after a few minutes he slipped out to turn her around. Grabbing her thighs, Harry easily lifted Claire up on the countertop, lips hovering over one another as he pushed in again. His cock shone in the slick of her arousal, easily sinking back into her pussy as she sat up at the perfect height.

He held one hand on her thigh, hiking it up over his hips as he fucked her quickly and sharp. “Fuck.” Harry choked out a whisper, tugging Claire to the edge to get deeper. She leaned back on one palm, watching him intently as Harry fucked her for his own pleasure. She didn’t mind. Claire was too sore and tired to reach an orgasm, but watching Harry as he neared his own end, was mesmerizing.

No words were spoken, but his jaw went slack and he buried himself deep inside of her when finishing. As Harry felt like he was unable to keep his moans down, he desperately kissed her, spurts of his cum filling Claire on an early, lazy Saturday morning in the kitchen. His fingers dented her hips as his orgasm seemed endless, fucking her bare. She felt amazing and he hadn’t expected anything less.

Both were panting as the ringing in Harry’s ears subsided. He relaxed a little, unclenching his muscles as he stroked up Claire’s sides, “Shit, you didn’t cum.” He panted out. She hummed, “That’s okay. You can make it up to me later.”

He breathed out a chuckle, it quickly disappearing as he heard a door upstairs. Claire’s eyes widened and Harry glanced around to reach for tissues. He slipped out of her, using the tissues to clean up any spilling of his cum. In an ideal world, he’d watch intently as it oozed out of her swollen cunt, possibly use his mouth on her decently this time.

But they didn’t have time. Footsteps from upstairs hurried down the stairs and he heard the giggling of two little boys as Claire hurried into the downstairs bathroom to clean up and get decent. Harry washed his hands and used a clean cloth to wipe down the countertop.

By the time Claire returned from the bathroom, the sight in front of her warmed her heart. Harry was playing around in the kitchen with Atlas and Finn. And everything just felt so normal. She walked up behind him as he stirred the pancake batter. It didn’t feel weird when she wrapped her arms around his form and pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder, “Can we stay for breakfast?”

Harry glanced at her over his shoulder, seeing the softness in her eyes. He smiled and reached back further to bump his nose into hers, “You can stay forever.”

//

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

The Ultimatum | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hello! I've been BUSY as fuck with school lately, y'all. It is truly a nightmare. I'm talking tests on tests on tests on finals on finals. But I'm almost done with the semester and I FINALLY finished this fic that I've been working on for-fucking-ever. It's got the angst and the yearning and the pain with a happy ending, which is my fave. Thanks for reading and thanks for being patient while I suffer through school :)

Word count: 9.6k

Warnings: implied emotional abuse, manipulative boyfriend, anxiety, general sad vibes (but happy ending, as always <3)

At this point, Bucky had almost forgotten how to react to a knock at the door. He stood almost frozen, not quite recognizing the sound of knuckles against the wood. It seemed to him like a foreign, otherworldly occurrence. Like something newsworthy, something he’d see on the front page. He didn’t ever get visitors- well, at least not anymore. 

It struck him as odd, the thought of an unsolicited visitor dropping by- and so late; it was almost eleven. And though he didn’t feel like making small talk with the old lady who lived across the hall, he figured he should open the door. Maybe his elderly neighbor needed help. Maybe she locked herself out and needed somewhere to wait for the landlord. And who was he to ignore her? She was always sweet. She treated him not like a monster, but a human being. And to Bucky, that was a novel experience- something worthy of backpay. So, if she needed to hang around his apartment for a while until the landlord arrived to unlock her door, he’d let her.

But when he opened the front door, he didn’t find old Mrs. Beverly. A sharp inhale barreled into him at the sight of you waiting on his welcome mat, the same one that you always joked about; you told him time and time again he should’ve called it a “go away mat”. 

Everything inside Bucky came screeching to a halt. No heartbeat, no thoughts. Just shock. A rush of goosebumps flashed over his skin at the mere sight of you within arm’s reach once again. An immediate smile splashed across his face- a smile he hadn’t worn since the last time he saw you. Butterflies swarmed inside his stomach and wriggled into his lungs, their wings constricting his breathing. Seeing you again was the first day of spring after a seemingly never-ending winter. The first rays of sun poking through frost riddled branches and dead leaves. This was salvation. 

“You said…” This was harder than you expected. Seeing Bucky again warmed parts of you that you didn’t know had gone cold. Just the sight of him helped you breathe easier. He made you lighter, calmer. He brought you a sense of comfort you stopped searching for months ago. Around him, all your sharp edges softened. But you didn’t know how to talk to him- not anymore. At one time, he was your safe place- the safest place you could imagine. During the bitterest of winters, he was your hearth, your home. You shared a secret language spoken only by the two of you. 

But not anymore. Not for a while now.

You weren’t the same person you’d been when you knew him. To some, it was an imperceptible change. But you felt it every day. Missing Bucky wormed its way into your cells, tangling itself with your DNA. It became a building block of your very being. Losing him damaged your soul, leaving the edges frayed and torn. 

The stark silence of the empty hallway made Bucky’s ears ring. He stared at you, his mouth slightly ajar, a look of bewilderment on his face. He took in the mascara smeared beneath your eyes, the soaking wet clothes hanging from your body. Only the quiet drip drip drip of water leaving your drenched hair dared disturb the silence.

The words you rehearsed on your way over dissolved. They abandoned you without a trace, leaving only one clumsy sentence in their place. “You said I could always come here if I needed you,” you finally said.

All Bucky could do was nod.

“Well… I need you,” you threw him a sheepish smile. “Can I come in?”

Again, Bucky nodded. His thoughts raced and collided with each other, filling his mind with noise. But he managed an “of course”; he needed you to know you were welcome. Of course, you were welcome. You were always welcome. He just hadn’t had the pleasure of inviting you into his home in what felt like a lifetime. 

A deep sigh of relief left your chest. Part of you expected him to slam the door in your face. You squeezed past him, careful not to brush against his clothes and get him all wet- though he wouldn’t have minded. He was just happy to see you again.

The sound of your wet sneakers squeaking across the hardwood set your nerves on edge. But being back in his apartment eased them right away. This space used to be your home away from home, the place you felt most comfortable. Sometimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you thought about its worn, wood floors or the orange light that poured through the windows at sunset. Just thinking about the way this place cloaked you in safety and warmth remedied your anxious mind and eased you into a peaceful sleep.

Everything sat in nearly the exact same place as the last time you were here. That was just like Bucky- constant, consistent. But as you let your gaze drift over the room, you noticed a few foreign pieces of décor. He’d gotten some new furnishings since you last visited. A cozy-looking blanket lay strewn across the couch. A large armchair- perfect for reading- sat next to the window. 

All this time, you worried about Bucky. You wondered how he was getting along, how he was handling things on his own. But he was okay. He made good on his chance at a new life. You only wished you could’ve been a part of it.

A thousand questions swarmed inside of Bucky’s brain. He had so many things to ask you, so much he wanted to catch up on. But one question sat at the top of his list. It was his first priority, his greatest worry: “Are you okay?”

A large huff left your chest, “I got into a big fight with Alex.” Part of you feared you were being dramatic. Bucky would never judge you- you knew he wouldn’t. But showing up out of the blue, late at night, drenched from head to toe because you argued with your boyfriend felt ridiculous. Maybe even pathetic. “He got mad- he didn’t want me to go out with my friends tonight,” you sighed. “Because I didn’t ask him first.”

“Because you didn’t ask him first?” Bucky nearly scoffed, “What- is he your father?” He checked himself immediately. A soft, “sorry” followed his less than subtle dig at your boyfriend, his attempt to assuage his mistake. He didn’t want you to put you on the defensive or make you regret your decision to reach out. Clearly, you needed him. And Bucky wasn’t about to ruin your attempt at seeking help.

But a quiet laugh pushed its way past your lips, easing Bucky’s worries. He always knew how to validate your feelings. “He was just being so-” you dragged your palms down your damp cheeks and thought back on the argument. “He’s so difficult. Sometimes, I feel like I’m on a leash or something. A short leash.”

Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He mulled over his next words, careful not to let another outburst escape without his permission. But a pressing thought jumped through his lips without warning. “Wait- why are you all wet?” Bucky said. “Sorry, I- we absolutely need to talk about what happened. But… you’re soaked. What happened?”

With a swipe of your hand, you rid your forehead of a few water droplets that tried to escape your hairline. “Well, it’s pouring,” you gestured toward the rain-spattered window. “And I walked here.”

His eyes went wide, “you walked here? From your place?”

You nodded. 

Your demeanor was all too casual for Bucky. With decent weather- in the daylight- the walk wasn’t that bad. But in a torrential downpour at 11pm, it was dangerous. It was far. “Jesus Christ…” Bucky couldn’t believe you did such a thing. It wasn’t safe- not with the rain, and especially not with the suspicious men that lurked the city streets at night. He thanked the universe you hadn’t been preyed upon on your journey to his apartment. “Why’d you walk?”

“Alex wouldn’t give me my purse,” you punctuated your sentence with the crossing of your arms. “We were fighting about me going out with my friends. And then things kinda blew up and he took my fucking purse.” The anger smoldering in your chest scorched through every blood vessel, broiling your cells. “He thought that if I didn’t have my keys or my wallet, he could stop me from going out.” 

Bucky matched your eye roll with one of his own. He could practically see the short leash you mentioned only moments ago. He couldn’t believe Alex took your things. Well, he could believe it- he just didn’t want to imagine you in such a situation. It seemed to Bucky that Alex wanted to keep you locked away like a princess in a tower; and Alex played the role of the fire-breathing dragon. 

“And then I missed out on dinner and dancing with the girls anyway cause our argument blew up.” A swift sadness snuffed out your sizzling rage. “So, I guess he won after all…” This night out with your friends was the one thing keeping you sane the past few weeks. Every time Alex did something to hurt you, to disrespect or belittle you, you thought about seeing your friends. About having a glass of wine or two and spending a few hours with the women in your life. You wanted to hear about their promotions, their wedding planning, their upcoming vacations. But most of all, you wanted their comfort. 

And he stole that from you.

Bucky wanted to wring Alex’s neck. He wanted to make him disappear. He wanted to cut you free from the cement blocks Alex tied to your feet. But the sharp shiver that rocketed through your body put those thoughts on pause. 

“Here, let’s get you some dry clothes to change into, alright?” 

“Oh… that’s-” You shook your head. Sure, you wanted to change out of your sopping wet clothes and into something cozier. But you didn’t deserve Bucky’s kindness or concern. Not anymore. You couldn’t let him do this for you, not after you showed up unannounced. Not after what you did. “That’s okay. I’m fine. Really.” 

But Bucky clocked the shaking in your fingers, the way you fought to keep your teeth from chattering. “Come on, it’s okay.” He reached for your icy hand and gave it a squeeze, only for a brief second. But it was enough to warm you from the inside out. “We both know you’re freezing. Just let me give you something to wear for a while. Okay?” He sensed the trepidation in your expression, the way you avoided eye contact. “It’s not an imposition or anything like that- just a friend helping a friend.” The patience and understanding behind his warm smile was so genuine, so authentic- you couldn’t help but believe him.

And though you knew it wasn’t right to accept his kind gesture, you couldn’t help yourself. The cold pierced through your bones and chilled you to the very soul- you weren’t strong enough to resist his offer. And, selfishly, you wanted to wrap yourself in Bucky’s clothes. They were always cozier, more comfortable than your own. The fabric seemed to hang on to his warm scent; you never realized you could miss a smell so much until it vanished from your own clothes. Your hair. 

“Um, okay. Yeah,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

Your acceptance of his offer made Bucky beam- but you were still stuck on him referring to you as a friend. After all this time, after what you did to him, you couldn’t believe he’d still regard you with such affection.

You slipped out of your sneakers and socks and followed Bucky down the familiar hall to his bedroom. The memories embedded in these walls were your favorite days. Your most comfortable nights. Coming back to Bucky’s place allowed you to visit them all once again- something you never permitted anymore. Conjuring those memories brought you the greatest comfort and the sharpest, most soul-crushing pain. Seeking salvation in the past only served to remind you that Bucky was no longer part of your present, nor your future. And that hurt worse than any gunshot wound.

Just to be safe, you secured those happy memories in vault and buried it deep inside your mind, never allowing them to escape or see the light of day. 

But it was a crushing loss. 

“So, um… why didn’t you call?” Bucky looked over his shoulder for a split second, as though to make sure you were following him. “I would’ve picked you up, that way you wouldn’t have had to walk in the rain…” 

Of course, he would’ve. He would’ve given his remaining arm for you. 

You pulled at your soaking wet t-shirt, desperate to distract yourself. This was too awkward, too pathetic. 

“I was afraid that…” You cleared your throat. “I um, I didn’t think you’d answer. Cause of what I did.” The wet hem of your t-shirt gave you little relief as you picked at its stitching to stem the anxiety. “I thought it was better if I just- you know, if I just came here. If I just showed up.” You rolled your eyes at your own logic, “if I called, there was a chance you wouldn’t answer.”

Bucky shook his head, “I would’ve-”

“I didn’t wanna chance it,” you said. “Cause if you blocked my number and that’s how I found out, I might’ve walked into traffic.”

Bucky knew you too well, knew you were making a joke to hide your very real fear of his rejection. “Well, I didn’t block your number,” he said after a moment, “I don’t know how.” And before you could spiral, Bucky turned to face you. “I would’ve answered. I will always answer.” His words were so genuine, so steadfast, that you nearly stopped breathing. 

“I think I knew that…” you said, your voice almost imperceptible. “I think it scared me.” 

Even after all this time apart, he remembered the way your voice grew thin when shame got the best of you. If he were being honest, he thought about the sound of your voice every day. 

He knew you well enough to know when you were nervous. When you couldn’t stand to make eye contact. And so, he turned his back to you and continued in the direction of his bedroom, giving you a moment to yourself.

“Here we are,” Bucky pushed open his bedroom door and gestured for you to enter, allowing you to go ahead of him. But he sensed your hesitation, your uneasiness. He clocked it in the way your eyes just missed his, the way your fingers pulled at the fabric of your shirt. The two of you stood there in the hallway, stalling outside his bedroom door as though trapped in wet cement. Bucky broke free first.

“Alright, let’s find you something comfortable!” He dipped his words in positivity and 

threw a too-cheery affectation on top for good measure. He just wanted to make you feel more at ease, more relaxed. But he knew a dry shirt and some sweatpants couldn’t fix the damage Alex did. 

It was more than that, though. Bucky could feel the uncomfortable tension radiating off you like rays of the sun. You didn’t know how to act around him now, didn’t know how to navigate the crumbled ruins of your relationship. It was obvious. You didn’t readily enter his bedroom- how could you? You didn’t feel entitled to that space- or any space of his- anymore. And Bucky was going to change your mind or die trying.

“Okay, so you definitely need a pair of socks…” He rifled through his top drawer until he found a pair thick enough to keep you warm.

“And sweatpants? Yeah?” He looked at you expectantly, awaiting your approval.

You nodded. You’d accept anything he gave you- or didn’t give you. You didn’t have the right to his help, his clothes, or his comforts. 

But he pushed on. Happily. He scrounged around the shelves in his closet and in his dresser drawers, searching for a pair that would fit. 

And as he dug through seemingly every article of clothing he owned, you gave the room a once over. He’d gotten a small, slightly shabby bookshelf in the time since you last saw the place. An army of novels with cracked spines and distressed covers lined the warped wood like soldiers protecting him from the nightmares. He still only had one pillow, and his sheets were the same dark gray cotton. But his bedspread was new; it was the same one you advised he get for the colder months. At the time, he said he didn’t need anything heavier than the thin blanket that adorned his bed. And you knew it was just another way for him to punish himself, to refuse even the slightest comfort.

But the insulation in his cheap apartment did nothing to provide a reprieve from the biting winter. And clearly, he caved to your recommendation- even after things between you went south. A small smile crept across your face at the thought. At least you’d been able to help him in some way or another. Because of you, he stayed warm. He protected himself from the frigid temperatures. It eased your conscience, no matter how slightly.

“I think these will work…” Bucky held a pair of sweatpants up to your body. “I mean, they’re still gonna be way too big, but they’re the smallest pair I have.” He outstretched his hand and offered them to you, “we can tie the waist really tight and roll ‘em up so they’re not too long- don’t want you to trip.” 

You hesitated for only a moment, unable to resist the dry, warm fabric of his worn sweats. 

“Oh- you need a top,” he said, making his way toward the closet once again, “I have just the thing…” He reached up toward the top shelf of his closet in search of something; and before he had the chance to show you, you realized just what he was looking for. 

It was what you used to wear at Bucky’s as makeshift pajamas or when it got too cold. He used to say it was yours just as much as it was his. Back then, you slept over by accident a few times a week. Sometimes, he needed you late at night. Sometimes, he just needed you to be there while he slept- he was more comfortable that way. You always made him feel safe. But after one too many nights of you struggling to sleep in uncomfortable clothes, Bucky presented you with this very sweatshirt. He wanted to give you something- anything- to make you more comfortable. And so, he dug around his closet for his coziest, most comforting crewneck.

It came in handy every time the heating failed and the shotty insulation left you chilled to the bone. Bucky always pulled it out for you and watched with a smile as you tugged the soft, green fabric over your head. Sure, the heat at your apartment worked great. At home, you didn’t have to dress in layers or drink endless ups of scalding hot tea to keep warm. 

But some days, Bucky couldn’t stand to leave the house. And you couldn’t let him rot away all alone. So, you made your way to his place, in rain or snow, and sat with him. Talked with him. Made him tea and brought him food. 

He hadn’t been able to touch that sweatshirt ever since you left. Didn’t even want to look at it. But he kept it clean for you- just in case. 

“Is this okay?” Memory after memory of you accepting this very sweatshirt flashed through Bucky’s head. It used to be a routine of sorts, but it felt foreign now. 

Something in you nearly cracked. This whole thing was too much. It seemed like you’d been dropped into a film about your own life, and someone behind the camera forced you to play out this scene just to hurt you. It made you ache for before. Before you left, before things fell apart, before you made the decision you knew was wrong. 

Bucky stared at you, an expectant look on his face. He waited for you to take the relic of the better days you once shared, hoping it would bring them back to life.

But you hesitated. You eyed the garment, fearing the fabric would send you into a spiral. The threads were heavy with memories. And after everything you did, who were you to accept this gesture of goodwill?

“This is- I really appreciate it. But…” you refused the sweatshirt. And instead, tried to hand the sweatpants and socks back to Bucky. “I can’t accept all this. It’s not-”

“Yes, you can.” Bucky’s words were definitive. He allowed no room for arguments. “You’ll be a lot warmer.” He offered you a gentle smile and once again stretched the sweatshirt in your direction. “Get changed and we can put your clothes in the dryer,” he said, turning toward the door. “I’ll be right outside.”

A nod and a quiet “thank you” were all you could muster. And as Bucky left the room and shut the door, you wondered how he could possibly treat you so kindly after what happened. Ever since you left, you berated yourself daily. It was part of your routine now, almost like you’d penciled it into your calendar. The guilt kept you up at night and distracted you during the workday.

But Bucky was a good person. And he’d never hate you the way you hated yourself.

Slipping into his sweatshirt felt almost criminal. You saved it for last, choosing first to shimmy into his sweatpants and wrap your feet in his warm socks. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t right- none of this was right. Allowing Bucky to treat you with such hospitality, such care, wasn’t fair to him- not after what you put him through. But as you tugged his sweatshirt over your head, your selfishness eclipsed that feeling of wrongdoing. 

It was just as you remembered it- oversized but not massive. Warm but not suffocating. The worn fabric eased over your skin and cloaked you in the kind of comfort you knew you didn’t deserve. And for the first time since you left, you experienced genuine comfort. 

“Oh, hey,” Bucky was waiting for you in the hall, just like he said he would. “I’ll take those,” he took your wet clothes and nearly recoiled at just how cold the fabric felt against his skin. You must’ve been miserable- and yet, you’d tried to refuse the dry clothes he offered. His heart broke for you all over again. He tossed the piled of sopping fabric into the dryer and shot you a kind smile.

Bucky stared at you as the machine began to rumble; part of him wondered if this was real. He’d had plenty of dreams about this moment, about your return to his life. But none were ever this real, this believable. And as he observed you standing there in his old sweatshirt, he decided that if this was all some strange, lucid concoction of his psyche, he never wanted to wake up.

But the trembling in your hands caught his attention once again, pulling his smile into a deep frown. The warm, dry clothes did their best to shake the chill, but to no avail.

“Let me make you some tea,” Bucky gestured toward the kitchen. “I have some-”

“Oh, that’s okay.” You tucked your shaking hands into the long sleeves of Bucky’s sweatshirt, flashing him a forced smile. “I’ll warm up in a minute.” 

His old, familiar eyeroll brought a real smile to your face with ease. The two of you fell back into your old habits, your old way of relating, far too easily. Before you left, he always tried to give you things or do things for you when you hung out at his place. He knew his apartment was shitty, that you gave up time with your friends and boyfriend for him. And to compensate, he always had an offer in his back pocket: tea, takeout, baked goods from the place down the street. He had to make up for the burden he placed on you. And every time, you refused. The two of you would fake argue and banter until you finally conceded. And, with a smile, he’d make you a cup of tea or braid your hair the way Shuri showed him. 

You knew how much it meant to him to be able to give you something in return for your kindness- no matter how many times you told him your friendship wasn’t transactional. 

“I’m making you some tea, d-” Bucky caught himself, cutting off the word that rested on the tip of his tongue. He knew he shouldn’t call you ‘doll’ anymore. With a forced clearing of his throat, he pivoted. “I have some jasmine. Is that still your go-to?”

You nodded. Deep within you, an ache for your old nickname stirred. 

Bucky busied his hands with mugs and sugar and spoons. He always kept your favorite jasmine tea on hand, just in case. It stayed in the cupboard, front and center, ready for your return. But the box sat untouched. He hadn’t made any- not since you left. Just the smell of it was enough to break his heart all over again.

Every time he opened that cabinet, your tea stared back at him. And though seeing it threw him back in time and punched him in the gut with longing, he couldn’t get rid of it. Throwing it out would mean that you’d never come back, and he couldn’t accept that.

Bucky put the kettle on and tiptoed into rocky territory. “So, can I ask…” he toyed with a spoon, avoiding eye contact, “why didn’t you call an Uber or something?”

A pang of embarrassment jolted through you like lightning. Admitting the truth of your relationship only served to make you feel stupid. You’d lost count of the number of times your friends gasped or booed when you told them about something Alex did or said. And though you knew that the urge to hide his less-than-loving tendencies was a blood red flag in and of itself, you couldn’t help it. 

But you didn’t have to hide with Bucky. Ever.

“I deleted my rideshare accounts,” you sighed. “Or- Alex did. He doesn’t like me using them cause he doesn’t trust that I won’t-” 

You cut your next thought off at the knees. Months ago, Alex confronted you about your use of ride share apps. He suspected you of cheating, of sneaking away. His words dripped with contempt as he spat accusation after accusation your way, never stopping to listen to the truth. Sometimes, you needed a ride to work. Or to your sister’s house. But he didn’t care. “I know you’ve been going to see him- to see Barnes,” he’d said, “I know you’ve been going to see that psycho.”

That night, while you slept, he deleted your Uber and Lyft accounts and forbade you from ever downloading the apps again. 

“He also cut up my Metro card,” you said, your voice quieter now. Admitting these things felt traitorous. Treasonous. Like giving intel to the opposing side. Alex didn’t like Bucky. And Bucky didn’t like Alex- rightfully so. Spilling your guts supplied Bucky with enough ammo to destroy the man you supposedly loved. But Bucky didn’t fire a single shot.

He, instead, wrangled his negative thoughts about Alex and locked them away for the time being. The strong urge tear your shitty boyfriend apart rattled inside Bucky’s brain. It clawed and thrashed at the bars of the cage in which Bucky trapped it. Talking shit about your boyfriend, while satisfying, wasn’t important. You were Bucky’s top priority. He needed to make sure you were comfortable, that you felt safe. There was something in the way you spoke about Alex; a not-so-subtle tinge of anxiety- of fear- that tarnished every word you said about him. And thinking about the cause turned Bucky’s stomach.

He just wanted to be there for you, whatever that meant. If you needed to vent, Bucky would listen. If you needed to cry, he’d offer you his shoulder. And if you needed to sit in silence, drinking your tea, and pretending your boyfriend didn’t exist for a while, Bucky would join you in the quiet.

“Oh. Um…” Bucky didn’t know what to say. His anger toward your boyfriend boiled under the surface, but he didn’t dare let it overflow. Instead, he pulled the kettle from the stove just as it started to sing. “Well… I’m glad you made it here safely,” he said. It was all he could think of. 

You shrugged, “I kinda ruined your Saturday night, though.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and gave you a laugh, “you could never ruin my night.” 

Without a second thought or a moment’s pause, he prepared your tea just the way you liked it. Even after all this time, even after the issues with his memory, he never forgot. He delivered a perfect splash of milk, a flawless dose of sugar. It was as though he’d done this just yesterday- and all the days before.

“Plus, do you really think I had plans tonight?” Bucky said as he handed you your tea. 

“Hey, I don’t know…” you sipped your tea; it was even the perfect temperature. “Maybe you’re a real social butterfly now. Maybe you have a weekly poker game or plans with Sam.” You shrugged, “maybe you have a girlfriend.”

Things fell quiet after that. Bucky sipped at his tea. You scratched absentmindedly at the tile counter. Neither of you knew what to say or how to say it. And it crushed you. Before, the conversation between you and Bucky flowed so easily, so smoothly. You read each other’s’ minds and anticipated nearly every word. And in the silences, things were comfortable. Cozy. Content.

This was awkward, tense. It sent a shiver up your spine.

“You’re still freezing.” A worried scowl carved a deep line in Bucky’s forehead. “Come on, let’s get you under a blanket, okay?” He wrapped an arm around you back- loosely- and guided you toward the living room. 

The gesture almost made you tear up. Bucky was always so kind. So gentle and soft and warm. It was a warmth you hadn’t experienced in a long time. But part of you almost wanted to distrust his kindness. It seemed to you like an omen, a kind of warning. Or even a trap. At home, sweet gestures like these always meant trouble brewing beneath the surface. They led to shouting and crying. To accusations and fear and distrust. 

They came with a catch.

Bucky didn’t.

He simply held your tea while you got comfortable on the couch. He wrapped you in a blanket and asked if you wanted another. And when he was confident that you were, indeed, warming up, he joined you. 

“This might sound pathetic,” Bucky said as he settle into his spot on the couch, “this is the best night that I’ve had in a really long time.” He knew you were only in his home due to unfortunate, unkind circumstances. He knew he shouldn’t be celebrating your showing up sopping wet at his apartment late at night, not when he knew what made you do so. 

But he so was happy to see you. 

Things fell quiet after that. You left all of your peace behind the last time you left Bucky’s apartment. You ripped it from your chest and piled it in a corner, abandoning it for your new life. Sure, it hurt. And it left you feeling empty. But it had to be done, didn’t it? 

All your life, people emphasized the importance of marriage. Of settling down. They told you that relationships are always hard, that they aren’t like fairytales. And so, you accepted Alex’s empty promises and twisted definition of love. And even when you expressed to your parents that you weren’t sure about Alex, they talked you into staying with him. They cited your age, how difficult it would be to find a husband as you got even older. They scared you into accepting less than you deserved. They scared you into leaving Bucky behind. 

Yes, it was you who ultimately made the decision to end your friendship with the kindest person you’d ever known. But you knew you’d never let go of the grudge you held against those in your life who convinced you to settle for Alex. To cut Bucky out of your life. They robbed you of so much time with him, time you’d never get back. And just the thought of all those lost days sent you into deep, endless grief. 

Bucky spoke up after a while, “Do you wanna talk about it?” He didn’t want to pry or come on too strong; something in him feared it would scare you off. If this was where you sought solace, if this was where you felt safest, who was he to disturb your newfound sense of peace?

“You don’t have to,” he said, “but you can if you want.”

You did want to talk to Bucky about what happened. You wanted to spill your guts and vomit every less than blissful detail about your life with Alex. Talking to your girlfriends was nice and of course, your therapist was helpful- but there was something about Bucky. He was the only person who really understood you, who could read between the lines and grasp the feelings you struggled to put into words. 

But pulling at that thread was dangerous. You’d already tugged at a few pieces, unraveled some shameful details about how things were at home. And if you gave that frayed thread another yank, you feared that every damaged, knotted strand would fall on full display at Bucky’s feet. The prospect scared you more than your late-night walk to Bucky’s.

And who were you to dump your relationship issues on him, anyway? Who were you to disappear with barely any warning, only to show up and vent on his couch? It wasn’t right- none of this was right. Sure, parts of this night were irreversible. You were already there, wearing his clothes, drinking his tea, and sitting on his couch. But you could stop yourself from burdening him any further. You could sew up your leaky wounds and snap your mouth shut, saving him from any more of your grief.

You sidestepped his offer, “No, it’s okay- catch me up on things with you. I wanna know everything.” 

Bucky gave you a look. Even after all your time away, he could still read you like the Sunday paper. He knew how badly you needed to simply let go, to unburden yourself. But he knew you wouldn’t.  

Your reluctance to share wasn’t a question of his listening skills or your level of comfort with him; it was the shame. He could practically see the guilt oozing from your pores. You didn’t feel as though you deserved to bare your soul to him. It was obvious, perfectly illustrated in the way you yanked your lips into a tight smile each time he looked at you. Showing up at his place unannounced after a seemingly eternal bout of radio silence was one thing. But dumping your problems in his lap? Burying him under your relationship drama? That was simply not allowed.

And so, he told you all about his life- the version that didn’t include you. He told you about the missions he’d been on and the injuries he sustained. The amends. The shitty, court appointed therapist who treated him more like a criminal than a client. The boat he fixed up with Sam. The old man with whom he ate lunch every week. 

He almost seemed happy. Almost. He actually had a life now. A friend who wasn’t also a coworker. He went on a date. Sure, there were things to be desired. He still had nightmares. Anxiety. He still wrestled with the ghosts of his past and the fear of his future. But he was doing better. And while it was all you ever wanted for him, it stung knowing you didn’t get to see him make these strides in real time. 

“Wow, you’ve been busy,” you said when he finally finished. “I gotta know more about your lunch dates with this Yori guy- that is adorable.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and laughed his first genuine laugh in months. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I met him as part of my amends, but I-”

A harsh knock at the door cut him off. Both your eyes and Bucky’s slid in the direction of the sound. And though neither of you said a word, the air in the room changed. It grew thick and heavy, weighted down with an almost sickening dread. 

Bucky locked eyes with you, his stare tunneling through your skull. 

“It’s him, isn’t it?” he said, keeping his voice low.

You nodded. 

A guttural groan clawed and kicked at your throat, but you refused to set it free.  

His voice was low, his volume calculated, “We’ll just be quiet.” Bucky glanced at the door once more, waiting for another round of knocks. “He won’t know we’re here, okay?”  

You could barely hear him over the hum of the fridge, the sounds of the city. You gave a slow, subtle nod, fearing the sound even the slightest motion might make.

“I know you’re in there, Barnes,” Alex’s voice punched through the door. “I saw your bike downstairs.” He knocked again, his knuckled booming against the door. Your blood stopped in its tracks. You could’ve sworn you felt it settle in your veins.

Bucky stood from the couch with a nearly silent, “It’s okay”. He hated the way your face dropped, the way your knuckles changed color as you gripped the pillow in your lap. 

“Barnes!” Alex practically growled through the door, “open up!”

“Come with me.” Bucky’s voice was barely audible, but still the most comforting sound you’d ever heard. He helped you from the couch, steadying you as the anxiety sent tremors through your every nerve. He guided you to his room with quiet, careful steps. He noted the way you yanked your shoulders upward, the way you kept your eyes on the floor. 

Bucky hated the effect Alex had on you. He turned you into a hollow, fragile version of yourself that Bucky found nearly unrecognizable. He chipped away at your confidence and self-esteem, using precise, masterful blows to your weakest points. He reduced you to a pile of dust and shards of your old self. 

Bucky wished to turn Alex into nothing but a memory.

“Just stay in here till he’s gone. Don’t come out,” Bucky said once you reached his room. He rested a palm to your cheek for the briefest of seconds, “I’m gonna take care of it, okay?”

And before you had a chance to relish in the warmth of his skin against yours, he vanished.

His footsteps grew more distant as he made his way to the front door. With each centimeter he put between the two of you, you grew more anxious, more uncomfortable. He was your safety blanket, your rock. Without him, you’d learned to cope. You survived. But you never truly thrived. And now that you got your fix of him, being without him for even a second left you unable to breathe.

Bucky opened the door, feigning a look of surprise, “Alex- wow, hey. How are you? Haven’t seen you in-”

“Cut the bullshit. I’m not in the mood.” Alex’s tone sliced clear through Bucky’s attempt at casual levity. “Where is she?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “What?”

You could practically see Alex rolling his eyes, curling his hands into fists. “Don’t gimme that- you know what I’m talking about.”

Bucky gave pause and shook his head. “I really don’t…” Part of him feared he may be doing too much. He knew he had to perfectly toe the line without overplaying his role of ‘confused ex-best friend’. The last thing he wanted was to fuck this up, to let it slip that he was harboring you in his home. He knew it would be bad for you, that Alex would make your life a living hell if he found out. And he was damn sure not going to let that happen. “Is everything okay, man? It’s pretty late.”

Alex’s glare tunneled through Bucky’s skull, “Where’s my girlfriend, James?” 

It wasn’t a question- but an accusation.

“What do you mean?” Bucky coatedhis words in a thick layer of concern. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, she’s-” Alex huffed. He was over it. His paper-thin patience shredded into sharp, tiny pieces. “I know you know where she is. I know she probably called you or something.”

“She didn’t-”

A knowing look crossed Alex’s features and quickly devolved into one of betrayal, of disgust. “Is she here- she’s here isn’t she?”

Bucky’s heart sank into the swirling pit in his stomach. He couldn’t mess this up. He couldn’t ruin the sanctuary you sought in his home. This was your safe place, your peace. And he had to protect it. “Is she here? No. Why would she be here?”

“Don’t lie to me.” 

 “I haven’t seen her.” Bucky raised his hands in surrender, “We haven’t spoken in- she hasn’t contacted me in over a year.” Saying the words out loud hit him in a way he hadn’t expected. It prodded at him like a fireplace poker, hot from the flames. God, he missed you.

“Right…” Alex rolled his eyes. “Of course. Just fuckin… whatever, man. If you so happen to see her, tell her to get home. Soon.” He turned on his heel and backed out of Bucky’s doorway, a snide look on his face.  

Bucky wanted to separate Alex’s head from his body. This man didn’t wish for your homecoming as a concerned boyfriend. He didn’t hope for your safe return or ask for help finding you. Not a sliver of worry even came close to piercing his arrogant, callous surface. He’d let you spill out onto the late-night streets, hurt and distraught, as a torrential downpour drowned the city. He didn’t care that you had no means of transport. No wallet. He didn’t care that your clothes didn’t protect you from the freezing rain. 

And he walked away from Bucky cocky. He left threats hanging in the air. He wanted you home as a means of control. Of punishment. 

But at least he was gone. He stalked off, mumbling something about you “learning your lesson”. It made Bucky nauseous. He wanted to keep you in his apartment for as long as possible. At least, that way, he’d know you were out of Alex’s reach. 

He didn’t want to think about how your return home would play out, how Alex would treat you when you finally walked through the door. Something- a lot of things- about Alex didn’t sit right with Bucky. Alex struck him as a manipulator, a narcissist. Someone to fear. He could understand why you’d walk far too many blocks in the freezing, torrential rain just to get away.

Bucky shut the door and turned the deadbolt. He secured the chain. Even checked through the peephole to make sure Alex hadn’t returned. He couldn’t be too careful- not when you were involved. “Alright, he’s gone,” Bucky called as he headed in your direction. “He’s an intense guy, I didn’t-”

But as Bucky entered his bedroom, he found it empty. “He’s gone, I swear. You don’t have to hide anymore.” Bucky popped his head into the closet and bathroom but found no sign of you. “Hey, where’d you go?” 

The sound of the dryer door, however, tipped him off.

He discovered you in his small laundry room, retrieving your clothes from the dryer. 

“Oh, I don’t think those are all the way dry yet. You know this thing is kinda old,” he gave the dryer a gentle kick. “You should probably leave your stuff in there a little while longer.”

You didn’t answer. 

Bucky watched you fish your underwear out of the bottom of the dryer. He offered to help when your shirt got tangled with your shorts. But you stayed quiet. You kept your back to him and your gaze downcast, focused on the wet fabric in your hands.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Bucky placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I know Alex showing up wasn’t exactly ideal, but he’s gone. And I-” 

Without a word, you turned to face him; only then did he notice the tears streaming down your face. They met under your chin and curved down your neck, dampening the fabric of Bucky’s sweatshirt. He’d never seen a more sorrowful, gutted expression cross your face- save for the last time he saw you. 

Sharp, shallow inhales shook in and out of your chest. And even if you wanted to, you couldn’t force yourself to meet his eyeline.

“Oh no-” Bucky’s heart shattered. His chest tightened and his stomach dropped. He hated seeing you upset, seeing you cry. Immediately, he wondered what he’d done to make you feel this way.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice was gentle, his tone soft. He didn’t demand an answer, like Alex so often did. No, he simply helped guide your words to the surface. He was patient and understanding as you caught your breath, didn’t make any condescending comments about your emotions. Bucky was always kind, always empathetic. He never rushed you. Never forced you to speak before you were ready.  

And when you finally found your words, they came out quiet, shameful. “I heard what you said…”

Bucky quickly ran through his conversation with Alex and came up empty. What did he do? What did he say that hurt you like this? But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find the answer. “Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, I- what did I say?”

“About us not talking-” You lifted your head, showing Bucky your red, glassy eyes. “About me not contacting you for over a year.”

Bucky shrugged. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I was just-”

“I shouldn’t be here.” You dropped your damp clothes on top of the washer and tugged at the knots Bucky tied in your sweatpants. “I shouldn’t be wearing your clothes-” You struggled to free yourself from the tightly knotted drawstring. “I shouldn’t be complaining to you. And I shouldn’t- I just shouldn’t be here.”

A low groan rumbled out of your throat as you gave up untying Bucky’s skillful knots. All you wanted was to get out of his clothes, out of his apartment, and out of his hair. A storm of guilt and shame pummeled you, drowning you in regret. Coming here was wrong. Selfish.

“I have no right to be here,” you said, slumping against the dryer and sliding to the floor. “I have no right to come to you for help.”

“What do you- Yes, you do.” Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Of course, you do. You will alwayshave the right to be here.”

Another tidal wave of tears poured down your cheeks. Bucky was so kind- too kind- to you. Too forgiving. Too understanding. Too good. All you could do was shake your head and apologize. Vehemently.

“I’m so sorry…” you said, your voice cracking. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky took the spot next to you on the floor, close enough for you to feel his familiar body heat. “You don’t have to be sorry-”

“Yes, I do- I fucked up. I chose him.” You dried your tears with the sleeve of the sweatshirt Bucky held onto just for you. “He gave me an ultimatum and I- I chose wrong.”

Bucky took your hand in one of his but didn’t speak. He simply let you ride out your latest wave of guilt and grief. He swiped this thumb over your knuckles every now and then, keeping you grounded. And when you finally caught your breath, he spoke.

“I don’t think… I don’t think it was ever about you choosing between dating Alex or being friends with me,” he said. “You needed to choose yourself. To choose what was best for you, what would make you happy. And at the time,” Bucky shrugged, “you thought being with him was for the best. So that’s what you did. I can’t fault you for that-”

You scoffed. It came out ugly, bitter, full of the disdain and contempt you held for yourself. “But I knew who he was. Even then.”

Bucky shrugged, “they call ‘em rose colored glasses for a reason-”

“Stop!” Your voice violently bounced off the walls of the small laundry room. “Stop making excuses for me- I want you to be mad at me!” Desperation clawed at your throat. You ripped your hand from Bucky’s, too overwhelmed by the kindness you didn’t deserve. “Be mad at me for abandoning you when I said I never would- be mad at me for being a horrible friend! Be mad at me for being stupid- and selfish!” Your balled up fists landed blows to your legs, your chest. If Bucky wasn’t going to berate you, the least you could do was deliver to yourself a fraction of the pain you deserved.

But two hands- one warm, one cold- wrapped gently around your wrists, stopping the abuse. You locked eyes with Bucky, tears blurring your vision. He’d never seen a look of such intense desperation.

“Just- be mad at me…” you stared at him, pleading. “Please.”

Bucky shook his head, “No.”

“Please… be mad at me. Yell at me. Do something.”

Bucky couldn’t help but think back on the old days. How many times had the two of you sat on the floor of this apartment? How many times had you helped Bucky off the literal and metaphorical ledge when his anxieties grew too strong? How many times had you exorcised the demons Hydra saddled him with? How many times had he tried to punish or hurt himself? And how many times had you stopped him?

Now, it was Bucky’s turn to do the same for you. “I was mad. Does that make you feel better?” He shot you a wink; it pulled the smallest of smiles from deep within you. 

He intertwined his fingers with yours, anchoring you to reality, to him. “But I wasn’t mad at you. I was just mad because- because I met you so late in life, you know? And I barely got any time with you. It wasn’t enough for me.” His voice grew thick with longing. He spent so any nights thinking about you, losing sleep over how much he missed you. He often wondered if you missed him, too. Wondered if you thought of him when you took the train or went to the market. Wondered if you ever walked down his street, just because. 

“But I was never mad at you. I’ve never been mad at you for pursuing the things with Alex. Or for going along with his ultimatum. I didn’t like it- I didn’t think that it was fair to you, but…” he shrugged. “I wanted- want- you to be happy.”

“But I left you-”

“I’ve lived a long life,” Bucky said. “Too long.”

You squeezed his hand, “I wouldn’t say that- I wouldn’t say ‘too long.’”

You always knew how to make Bucky laugh. “What I mean is… I’m living years that aren’t mine. I was never supposed to have this much time. But these years are meant for you. This is your life. And you’re entitled to go after the things you want.”

“But-”

“No. No ‘but’.” It wasn’t a reprimand, but a reminder. “What kind of friend would I be if I got mad at you for pursuing a relationship with someone you loved?”

 “But I didn’t just pursue that relationship-” a harsh flashback of the day you left ripped you apart from the inside out.  You remembered refusing Bucky’s invitation inside. Handing him the key he had made for you. You remembered biting back tears as you told him of Alex’s ultimatum, and your subsequent decision to go along with it. You remembered the look of utter heartbreak on Bucky’s face. He was gutted. Torn apart. Seeing him so despondent nearly made you sick. “I cut you off. Completely.”

“I know. But…” he shrugged. “You deserve to go after the things you want. And you wanted him. And I- I just wanted you to be happy.”

A sharp huff left your chest, “But I could’ve been stronger. I should’ve- I should’ve handled things better.” These same words swarmed your mind like angry bees on a daily basis. So many would’ves and could’ves and should’ves launched themselves at you, illustrating everything you did wrong. “I mean, jesus christ, I’m an adult! He gave me an ultimatum- I didn’t have to go along with it. I chose to. I’m in the wrong just as much as he is-”

“Hey- no.” Bucky’s intensity caught you off guard. “Look, I hope I’m not speaking out of turn here, but he’s a manipulator. Everything you ever told me about him screamed ‘manipulative’.”

You nodded. “Yeah, but I let him manipulate me-”

Bucky shut you down, “No. No, that’s not how manipulation works. Sure, you chose to be in a relationship with him. But you didn’t choose to be treated like shit. I saw-” Bucky’s free hand scratched at the fabric of his jeans. “I saw the way he acted tonight- if he’s like that all the time, I don’t blame you for going along with his ultimatum.” He grimaced, “I’m sure the consequences would’ve been bad if you chose otherwise.”

Bucky’s level of understanding and empathy almost made you angry. How was he this kind? How could he grant you this much grace? You felt yourself nearly going mad. He sensed the eyeroll, could practically feel your rebuttal bubbling below the surface. And before you could throw another ‘but’ at him, he continued. 

“You wanted to be with him. You thought- or hoped- that he was someone better. That’s not a crime. And I’m sure you wish you could go back in time and tell your past self not to get mixed up with him, but-”

“Yeah, but I-” you let loose a deep sigh. “I really just wish I could go back in time and tell past-me to stick with you. Always. To put you first.” A few more tears broke free from your lash line and rolled down your cheeks. “Cause you’re the person I care about most- you’ve always been then one who matters most to me. And I’m sorry I didn’t act like it. I’m sorry I didn’t make that obvious to you.”

“It’s all okay,” he nudged his shoulder with yours, “we’re okay.”

After a few deep breaths, you allowed your body to fall against his. Your head lay on his shoulder, your hands still intertwined. This was always how things were supposed to be: just you and Bucky against the world. No pain, no heartache, no ultimatums. Just trust. Kindness. Empathy.

“I’ve missed you every day,” your voice came out tight, barely audible as your tears made another appearance. 

Bucky unwound his hand from yours and opted instead to wrap his arm around your shoulders. “I’ve missed you too.”

“I regretted it, you know?” You lifted your head and looked him in the eye with intense urgency, “I regretted it instantly- I knew I shouldn’t have chosen him.”

He gave a simple shrug, “But it’s okay that you did.”

It was going to take some time for you to accept that Bucky didn’t hold a grudge. That he didn’t fault you. And that journey started there, on the floor of Bucky’s laundry room, with your body resting against his.

“I’m glad that… I’m glad I didn’t wait any longer to come back here.” You nestled closer to him, desperate to make up for lost time. “I’m glad it wasn’t too late.”

He stared down at you, confused. “Too late for what?” 

“Well, I’m sure you would’ve written me off after a certain point, you know? If I was gone for… five years, or something.” Just the thought of being away from Bucky that long made you miserable. “If I showed up here after all that time, it would’ve been too late for you to forgive me.”

Bucky shook his head, “First of all, you don’t need to be forgiven- you didn’t do anything wrong.” He hated the way you blamed yourself and dismissed your own difficulties over the last year. And he knew you too well to be able to ignore the heartbreak in your eyes, the pain behind your voice. You suffered in your relationship with Alex. He cut you off from your best friend, isolated you, sabotaged your self-esteem. You were a victim, even if you refused to believe it.

“Second of all- and this is important-” Bucky turned to face you dead on, and pressed his forehead to yours. “There is no ‘too late’ with us, doll. Ever.”

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[777rare]

☀️SOLAR RETURN CHART OBSERVATIONS (PT.1)

Disclaimer :

DO NOT READ FURTHUR IF YOU ARE A MINOR!!

⚠️!TRIGGER WARNING!⚠️

THIS CONTAINS MENTIONING OF seggs,De@th, abu$e, bl0od,alc0hol, dru*gs,so please scroll if ur under 18+ and uncomfortable to read this content!

THESE NOTES ARE ONLY A STUDY OF MINE AND HAS/HAS NOT BEEN PROVEN YET, SO IF IT DOES NOT RESONATE WITH YOU, FORGIVE ME AS IT WAS ONLY A STUDY/OBSERVATION OF MINE.

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW ASTROLOGY OBSERVERS POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN

Having Pluto in 12th house makes the native fantasize a lot about sex. Can also make the native go through a huge spiritual transformation.

•••

Signs/planets in 12th house can show the frequent dreams you get when you sleep/what you fantasize about that year. (Also check which house is pisces over and check the planets under that sign or in that house.)

⬇️If these planets are placed in 12h/planets placed in pisces or 12h aspecting other planets(check the subjects of other planets as well if it's aspects by the planet in 12h) /under pisces or in the house pisces is over then the things you get in ur dream are :

SUN- light,happiness,fun,kids,celebrities,art,father,pregnancy

MOON- mother,water,home,emotional,waterbodies,beach

MERCURY- garden,pets,work,phones,books,siblings,technology,neighborhood,neighbours,school,friends,trees,greenery,nature

VENUS- money,food,luxuries,fashion,music,art,business,beauty,crush,lovers

MARS- war,abuse,death,nightmares,fire,blood,fighting,sex

JUPITER- college,trevelling,foreign place,exploring,teachers,ancestors,the divine,your guides

SATURN- public,elderly people,chains,traps,cages,prison,grandparents,parents

URANUS- technology,friends,surprises,rebellion,adventure,wings,angels,flying

NEPTUNE- Drugs,alcohol,fantasy world,unclear,mirrors,water,mystical stuff,escapism,feet

PLUTO- sex,intimacy,death,wealth,secrets,jealousy,pregnancy,nightmares,blood,sinister,murder,weapons

CHIRON- things related to your trauma,healing,could show hospitals,forests,nature,ancestors

Suppose you don't have any planets under pisces/in 12th house, Types of dreams can also be seen by which house pisces is over. Ex: having pisces over 5th house, 5th house ruler is sun so the types of dreams you get are all the subjects that are mentioned in sun⬆️ also check which planets that house ruler is aspecting, ex: pisces being over 5th house, ruler is sun so if sun is aspecting moon in SR chart, the types of dreams you get are all the subjects that are mentioned in moon.🙌🏻🌙

•••

Mars in 4rth house/cancer natives can have a very tough time in their family life. Can also show lots of abuse or wounds connecting to your emotions. Family members or you can get pissed off on eachother often and most of the times for no reason at all. Lots of fights and arguments with family members. Anger outbursts. Mood swings. Short temper. Not wanting to be around or not feeling comfortable around family members, especially male family members like your brother, father, etc.💥🔥

•••

YOUR ASCENDANT IN SR CHART IS HOW YOU PRESENT YOURSELF/WHAT AURA YOU EMIT/HOW YOU LOOK

Ascendant in fixed signs- being seen as /appearing :-

AQUARIUS- independent,aloof,cold,unordered,a rebel,unbothered,distant,unapproachable

LEO- boastful,confident,firey,active,angry

TAURUS- sensual,serious,bad bitch,charming

SCORPIO- mysterious,secretive,sexual,emotional,alluring,captivating,dark energy

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Ascendant in cardinal signs- being seen as /appearing :-

LIBRA- beautiful,graceful,sweet,approachable,kind,popular

CAPRICORN- pissed,unapproachable,sensual,bossy,stubborn

ARIES- confident,outgoing,energetic, a fighter

CANCER- soft,loving,sweet,kind,trustworthy,emotional,caring,non judgemental

---

Ascendant in mutable signs- being seen as /appearing :-

GEMINI- supportive,casual,charming,mesmerizing,free spirited,two-faced

VIRGO- helpful,organized,pretty,charming

SAGITTARIUS- playful,fun-going, jolly,flirt,hot

PISCES- sensitive,soft,day dreaming,ethereal,fairy, a fantasy

This also applies to the MC but it's how others see you.ex: having Taurus MC, then sensual,serious,bad bitch and charming I'd how others see me.

•••

Check the sign and planet over/in your 11th house..that's how you view friendships, communication and your future this year. It can also how your friendships are this year.

Ex: Capricorn over/saturn in 11th house - you could be more serious or mature when it comes to making friends. Can also show you love feeling independent or being alone on your own feet from friendships. Like you know, you feel like you don't need friends cuz you feel really independent. Not saying you'll have no friends at all. You will have friends but you crave independence from them. You dont want to depend on friends anymore. You can also be really serious about your future this year. Can be different if other planets are seated there too.

•••

Always check if fama in in conjunction with personal planets. It can show exposure of that topic to the public or surroundings. Ex: I have fama conjunct moon last year and my emotional life got exposed because of myself due to some addiction issues and I told everything to the whomever spoke to me, I was like unconsciously spilling everything without even myself knowing.its messed up but yes, teachers, friends, most of the people know about my emotions now. I just hate it. And I'm okay now though. No more addiction🙌🏻

•••

where scorpio is in your chart can tell you what do you get deeper into, have a deeper connection with or even have a deep curiosity to find out things in that area of your life, also powerful intense areas of your life that year (check which house it's over, planets under the sign)

Ex: I have scorpio over 9th house this year and I have a deep curiosity to learn about my ancestors, gods and goddesses, history, ditties, guides. I feel powerful in the areas of my ancestors, connecting with God's. Discovering dark knowledge of spirituality like witchcraft,etc.

•••

Check where your capricorn is seated in your chart, which house it's over can show the area of your life, you are more independent, serious or structured. Even formal, authoritative and responsible.

•••

Where your virgo is in your chart can show where you're picky, perfectionist, not easily convinced.

Hope you all enjoyed today's post! Have a great day ahead!🏝💓

Feel free to reblog and tag me when you do❤🙌🏻

[prying-pandora666]

From Zutara to Sokkla - Narrative Framing and Hypocrisy

Something that boggles me about the fandom is the complete double standard between Zuko and Sokka vs Katara and Azula.

A pretty noticeable example is how we frame the infamous “I’ll save you from the pirates” scene versus the Day of Black Sun.

The infamous pirates scene is often lauded (or condemned) as the birth of Zutara. Fans allege the tension between Zuko and Katara is palpable, and that their attraction is clear.

But let’s consider:

Katara isn’t a realized bender yet. She can’t defend herself. She’s surrounded by hardened adult criminals with weapons who have it out for her, and two firebenders (like the man who killed her mother!) who have been pursuing her doggedly, one of whom has shown he is quick to use violence even against civilians and the elderly.

Zuko dangles Katara’s necklace in front of her, the only item she has left of her mother, and threatens to take it away forever if she doesn’t sell out her friends.

If you want to read romance in this harrowing scene, feel free. It’s fiction and I’m not the morality police. Have fun!

What bothers me is the hypocrisy in how people frame this scene by comparison:

Consider this: Azula can’t bend. She’s unarmed. She’s pinned to the wall and has no means of escape. Her enemy is armed, is the architect of this invasion, has an army outside ready to follow him, and is currently flanked by an unstoppable earthbender and the friggin Avatar!

Azula is using herself as bait to protect her father (and ostensibly Zuko) knowing her life would be in terrible danger for minimum of 8 minutes. During which the enemy can do anything to her. The Fire Nation has done a lot of harm and there are surely many soldiers out there who would love to take their revenge on the Fire Nation’s pretty little princess who conquered the “impenetrable” capital of the Earth Kingdom.

The show goes out of its way to inform us that Azula is an expert at hiding her emotions. She can even fool Toph’s lie detector. Why?

Many people misinterpret this as a sign that Azula is an emotionless sociopath or whatever ableist pop-sci ideas they have about ASPD.

In reality, it’s the opposite. Azula being an expert at hiding her feelings is made clear so that we understand why she doesn’t look terrified, or vulnerable, or sad, or hurt until the finale when she finally cracks and her facade slips.

All she has at her disposal to protect herself is her wits (she had a knife and some Dai Li, but she has neither by this point). She smartly uses what she knows about Sokka to exploit his weakness and buy herself time. She’s so good at getting under his skin (which takes a sophisticated level of weaponized empathy) that even after he figures out what she’s doing, Sokka still can’t help himself.

This is all she can do to protect herself and her father. We as the audience know that Sokka and Toph aren’t going to kill or maim her, but Azula doesn’t!

So why in the world was this scene received as traumatic for Sokka?

Fans will claim that Azula’s mind games in this scene left Sokka with lasting trauma. That this is emotional abuse.

But who is the one pinned to the wall with no way to defend herself? Who is the one with weapons to threaten her with, and powerful allies who have it out for her?

If Sokka experienced any lasting trauma from this altercation, he sure never showed it! Sokka never seems to think much about Azula at all outside of wanting a rematch when it’s presented at the Boiling Rock. And even that is due to his feelings of inadequacy after the invasion. He even makes fun of Suki for being captured by Azula! Doubt he would do that if she had genuinely been tortured or if Sokka had been so traumatized by this scene.

Suki: Are you trying to get on my bad side?

Meanwhile, Katara does seem to have lasting trauma over her repeated altercations with Zuko. She talks about how he chased them all around the world threatening them. She refuses to trust him after he betrays her and fears he will get Aang killed. Zuko did hire an assassin.

In what universe can we read Zuko and the pirates threatening a helpless Katara as “romantic” but the scene with Sokka and Toph threatening a helpless Azula as “traumatic for Sokka”?

Only a universe where we have already subconsciously decided we are on Zuko and Sokka’s side.

These scenes can only be read that way if we have already decided Zuko isn’t that bad regardless of how Katara feels about what he does to her, and that Azula is pure evil regardless of what anyone does to her.

It’s a world where both Azula and Katara’s feelings are ignored.

If you want to read the pirate scene as romantic? Have fun. Enjoy your fics. It’s all good.

But let’s not pretend Zuko is some pure woobie in this scene that just needs some Katara loving, while Azula is some fearless psychopathic monster that enjoys putting herself in danger as long as she gets to “abuse” Sokka.

There’s a reason these two scenes exist this way. Katara and Zuko are parallels just as Azula and Sokka are. Katara and Azula are foils just like Sokka and Zuko are.

Fandom can and should do better by Katara and Azula. They deserve just as much consideration and empathy for their suffering and unmet needs as their brothers do. Even if Azula was a villain - so was Zuko for most of the show!

And as a pretty consequence, I can say this: Zutara and Sokkla are equally viable.

Goodnight, shippers.

[lunarw0rks]

Old Bones | Chapter One

Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does. | Word Count: 2.2k

Warning(s): strong language, mentions abusive relationship, gun mention, talk of death, trauma/PTSD themes, Fem!Reader

A/N: gonna be honest I got this idea from a c.ai bot. If you want to be on the taglist for this let me know <3

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On The Lam

The luminance of the sun beating down on you nearly distracted you from every tense thought telling you to back out. It felt ridiculous, standing out in the open like this, even if it was a populated area. The conversations of bypassers came in pieces.

A woman bickering with her husband about what takeout to get; an elderly woman talking to a most likely disinterested grandchild; a fuckboy bragging to one of his friends about how he scored the previous night—you yearned for the days where life was that simple. Living in blissful ignorance, when you were hopeful for the future ahead of you.

If you’d seen your past self, only a few months younger, you’d have called her a moron. How could you have not known? The red flags were all so obvious in hindsight. And for your stupidity, you’ve been living a life of recluse, wondering which stranger who passes you will eventually have his face.

In the present, cursing yourself for making an even denser decision: meeting a stranger online, someone to keep you safe. Shelters are too crowded, the police department is a joke, and cat and mouse can only go on for so long.

What can you say? Desperation makes people do things far from themselves. The saying goes both ways, you figure—each day that passes when he can’t find you is an increasing jeopardy to your safety.

You nearly squeeze the life out of the coffee cup you’re holding when the black pickup truck parks near the curb, just like you’d planned. His car was real, that’s all you knew. The windows were tinted, as dark as the law would allow. It could be anyone sitting inside the driver's seat.

The engine idles for a few seconds, before it comes to a stop. However, the driver doesn’t leave the truck to reveal himself. It’s up to you to make a decision. He’s surely already staring at you, as you stand there like a roach that’s staying still to avoid detection.

The speed of your steps towards the vehicle are about as fast as the pitter of your heart, increasing when you climb inside. You look in the backseat first, and indeed, there’s no one back there waiting to ambush you.

He’s staring at you, hands resting on either of his thighs, as if this wasn’t some sketchy meetup straight out of CSI, where the unsuspecting woman ends up wrapped in a tarp by the five minute timestamp. But he’s not giving you a look of malice or anger, it was the absence of emotion.

You fish out the envelope from your pocket, the deposit for his trouble, and then flash your phone screen, showing proof that you were the other text bubble responding to him. He takes the package and skims through the bills with his calloused thumb, giving a nod of approval.

If he wanted to hurt you, he could’ve locked the truck door by now and drove off God knows where. But he hadn’t. This ridiculous situation could be real after all.

He speaks first, revealing his weathered deep voice, with an accent you can’t locate. “Apartment or house?”

You take a few moments to process, shaking away the metaphorical cat that has your tongue. “It’s an apartment… Downtown, by the projects.” Your voice wavers slightly as you meet his callous gaze.

The ragged voice dripping with disdain, the eyes that look like they’ve witnessed it all, muscular arms that could choke you out in seconds, the insignia tattooed on his forearm, the small scars you can see around his eyes. You can only imagine how he looks under the balaclava tightly gripping his face.

You feel like it’s one danger stacked on top of the other—on the lam from an ex-lover, living in a chancy neighborhood, and now sitting in the car with one of the most intimidating men you’ve ever laid eyes on.

He closes off the envelope again, sticking the wad of cash into the cup holder. Next, he reaches into the center console, pulling out an ancient flip phone and a scrap piece of paper and pen.

“This is the burner phone you’ll use until our contract is up. No outside calls, no texting, and under no circumstances will you use your personal cell.” He has the phone outstretched, but won’t allow you to take it until you’ve nodded to reassure that you’re listening.

You flip up the screen, seeing only one number listed in the contact. No photos, no apps, nothing else. You stuff it into the pocket of your jeans, retrieving the paper and pen next.

“Write down your address, flat number, and cell. Everything we discussed before.”

You scribbled down all the info, cursing yourself at the awful handwriting before you. He doesn’t glance at your work, just hastily takes the items back and stuffs them into his pocket.

He then gives you a look of vexation, like you’re supposed to know what the next step in all this is.

With the tightening of his brow, he huffs and reaches across your lap, so close it makes you lean as far back into the seat as possible at the sudden proximity. His elbow is digging into your abdomen as he outstretches his arm toward the lock.

Click.

You jump at the sudden noise, despite the threat of him immediately harming you diminishing now that you have a possible escape. You’re not going to take your chances now, despite the fact that your address is folded in his pocket. Not your smartest decision, but neither was marrying the one that landed you in this situation.

You climb out of the vehicle, giving him one last glance before you shut the passenger door. There’s no going back now. You’re a few hundred dollars less, and a few hairs away from packing up and skipping town again.

You get inside your own car, turning the key to begin your drive home. His black truck tails you the whole way back, looking even more out of place in the sketchy neighborhood your apartment resides in.

When you enter the lobby, you gaze out at him through the window. He’s parked in front of the opposing building, probably trying to appear conspicuous. The landlord is sure to notice a “visitor” taking up your second parking space day by day. He moves like he’s done this a thousand times, like he’s thought of every way for someone to flag his presence.

By the time you reach the stairwell, he’s behind you, following your path up to your apartment. When you reach the inside, it’s as if you’re seeing your own place for the first time.

The barren walls where you hadn’t bothered to tack anything onto, the pathetic looking sofa in front of your box TV, not to mention your kitchen—the counters and stove untouched. The only sign of life is little traces of you; your laptop, still open and displaying what you were last browsing, the laundry you hadn’t folded yet, not to mention the mess of luggage in the corner.

It’s obvious to him by now that you’re not here to stay for long, and there’s a palpable reason for him being here. No one lives like this by choice. That wasn’t his problem, though. He was your muscle, your already paid muscle, so what does he care about the disorderliness of your apartment?

“I cleared out the spare room for you. It’s not much, I know.” You turn the corner, revealing what was more of a broom closet than a bedroom. You’d put out an air mattress for him, as well as a folding chair to pose as a nightstand.

He doesn’t react, just gives the scene a glance, then moves on without you. He’s casing the place, taking note of the layout in his mind. The lack of grandeur would come in handy. Two exits—entrance and terrace, only a few small windows, and not many rooms for an intruder to hide in. This was nothing to him.

Once he’s finished his walkthrough, you’re both standing in the entrance again.

“I supply my own weapons,” he pronounces, giving the living space one more scan. You had noticed it by now, the holster on his dominant side.

His eyes instinctively come back to you as you fiddle with your fingers in apprehension, how you’re wearing a wedding ring, but clearly no sign of a lover with you.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out the situation at hand: a woman fleeing from her spouse. But he knew there was more to this plight than just a hotheaded spouse. You weren’t the stereotypical battered woman he was expecting—no visible injuries, no cowering at the sight of his large frame, nor were you a petrified dear in the headlights.

He’d prefer it that way. Less strings attached, less drama, less chance of this job turning messy.

You force your nervous hands to your sides, noticing how he studied them. Though he was technically on your payroll, you felt you were in no position to question him.

He was actively standing in your apartment, had access to your information—it was a little late for cold feet.

—

“Did your husband strike you?” The officer questioned, not bothering to read the cues in front of him.

You hadn’t called them. It was your nosy neighbor, who somehow spent more time eavesdropping on your arguments than anything else. The icy concrete steps provide no comfort to your shivering legs as you’re perched on them, still in shock of it all.

“No, we were arguing,” you mutter, feeling overwhelmed by his grilling and the blue and red flashes lighting up the street. He hadn’t struck you. That was the truth. Why was it so goddamn difficult to tell the truth?

You felt this was all smoke. That the tension between the two of you would ease up after your place is swarmed with cruisers.

It should’ve been, at least. The serenity came and went as fast as the impatient officer. Instead of the previous dramatics of flying cutlery, it was hushed threats and holds on you that bruised where only you could see.

It was those evenings that you prayed for your nosy neighbor, or anyone for that matter to give you an out. No one did. He was too stifled, and too smart for that; the type of temper more disturbing than any man throwing violent punches.

You weren’t foolish. Things would get worse, you’d be completely dependent on him, and then dead before you had the chance to make an escape. You swore that wouldn’t happen to you—becoming a martyr for abused women. You weren’t going to be the next awareness story spread on social media.

Legalities were laughable, so you bailed. Packed up each of your belongings piece by piece, and bought the first plane ticket out of there. The leaving wasn’t the daunting part, like you’d heard before. No, it was the running—hiding away in your apartment, having to look over your shoulder in the checkout line, all of it.

Your husband’s wit was what charmed you in the first place. Then, it was his determination; it was jarring and never ending. But now, they were parts of him so potent they sent a chill down your spine. 

You weren’t going to cut and run without that damn persistence of his close on your tail.

—

You find yourself repeating the same routine. Laying there, staring at the water damaged ceiling above you, worrying endlessly about the road ahead of you.

Fate was something you once viewed as the reason for all the bullshit—the happenings already in place for you, sometimes ending in a lesson or a new chapter. It had to be fate, the way he’d find you eventually, no matter how much distance you make.

As you wandered out of your room, you rub the fatigue away from your eyes, steadying your view of the dim apartment. The carton nearly slips through your fingers when you see him lightly snoring in the armchair instead of his room. That was something you needed to get used to, that’s for sure.

He stirs awake, coming to attention immediately. You give him the pointless offer of something to drink, met with the rejection you were expecting. He remains there, hands folded across his chest in restlessness.

You flick on one of the shotty lights, which flickers constantly as it does a terrible job of lighting your kitchenette. You pull out a chair and take a seat at your table, rubbing your thumb along the glass in a soothing fashion as you take small sips from it.

It was becoming a pattern, long before you moved here. Gazing out at the shimmering stars in the sky, using them as a distraction from the chaos around you.

When you’d run out of tearful words, or the dread of what he’d do wouldn’t let them escape your lips—you look out the window at the stars. It felt sick to find solace in something that reminded you of him, but you did nonetheless. Your mind wasn’t plagued with remembrances—rather, it was deserted, as if its way of coping with the scars it still harbored.

The man sitting in your apartment knew that freeze all too well—the pause of total dissociation. The eyes of the person glossed over and expressionless. All he could do was hold his gaze on you as you sat at the table, unable to form any words of reassurance.

An intruder busts in, and his countermoves would be swift, precise, and lethal. Beyond the shadow of his nonchalance, he was a man yearning for the distraction of the night sky.

[sara-scribbles]

Melting the Dragon King's Heart (Part 1)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/F!Reader Summary: After falling down some stairs, you wake up in the body of a villain from one of Idia's cheesy romance books. Destined to die a fiery death, you have to figure out a way to change your fate. Word Count: 6,974 Notes: I've been reading a lot of isekai lately, which sparked this story. Hope you enjoy! Warnings: Mentions of past physical and emotional abuse, reader uses she/her pronouns

Part 1 Part 2, Part 3

“The person you are trying to call is unavailable. Please leave your message after the beep. After, you may…” Letting out a deep sigh, you wait for the message to finish.

“Hey, Idia, it’s me. I know you’re probably gaming right now, but I wanted to let you know I’ll be dropping by later today.” You pause before darting across the street. You nearly get hit by a car but make it on the sidewalk unscathed.

“Anyways, I finished ‘Melting the Dragon King’s Heart’ and that was the cringiest thing I’ve read! I’ll give you the full review when I come over.”

Ending the call, you shake your head at the phone screen. You head down the stairs to the subway while shooting Idia another text. Not watching where you’re going, your foot misses a step and you're sent careening down the stairs.

“Watch out!” a voice shouts.

---

You black out momentarily before regaining consciousness. Something feels off but you can’t quite place what. Your head pounds and your body aches. You can hear muffled voices.

Eyes opening, unfamiliar faces stare down at you. “Your highness?” someone asks.

Sitting up, you reach for your head but freeze when you realize that isn’t your hand. “Please be careful, your highness.”

Slowly studying the hand, you wave it around. You ignore the whispers and looks. You slowly reach your face, but it doesn’t feel like your face. Looking further down, you notice the clothes you’re wearing are completely different.

“W-what’s going on?” You slap a hand over your mouth. Definitely not your voice.

An elderly man leans down. “You fell off your horse, your highness. Are you feeling okay?”

You stare at him, before pointing to yourself. “A-are you talking to me?”

His brows draw together as he gives a concerned glance behind you. “You took quite a tumble so you might be a little out of sorts.”

He reaches to help you up, but you jerk away. Standing on your own, your head continues to throb painfully. You push past the group of people. You’re not sure where you're going, but your feet seem to know. Your brain is too scrambled to even notice your surroundings. Rushing down hallways and past other people, you enter into a room and lock the door.

Your gaze immediately falls on the full length mirror. As you slowly approach, the reflection in the mirror is not your own. You touch the cold surface and so does the image. Reaching up, you slap your cheeks a few times, the image does too. Your face stings.

“What the hell!?” And then your headache intensifies. You crumble to the floor clutching your head. Memories that aren’t yours flood your mind before you blackout once more.

---

You can’t believe you’re in Idia’s horrible isekai novel. Worse, you’re in the body of the secondary villain! She wasn’t very important to the story besides a vehicle to drive the plot. She didn’t even get a name. The story was from the protagonist's point of view, so you learned very little of the queen. In the end, she and her family died a fiery death after their nefarious plans to control the dragon king, Malleus Draconia, were uncovered by the protagonist.

Based on her memories, her marriage to the dragon king was six months ago. So, you had six more months before the arrival of the protagonist. Which also meant you had half a year before you’d be burned to death. You had no plans on dying. Again.

Crawling out of bed, you head to the connected bath. The maids had drawn a hot bath. Glancing in the bathroom mirror, you get a flash of her back. Old and newer scars crisscross the expanse of skin. The first time you saw them, you were flooded with horrible memories. Memories of a younger version crying while being beaten within an inch of her life. You tried to stay away from mirrors as much as possible.

Being the secondary villain, she isn’t really what you’d call evil. In the story, she came off like an emotionless puppet. The queen has a unique magic that can turn someone’s heart to ice, which allows her to control them. Ironic really. From what you remember from the story, the dragon king is too powerful, so her unique magic didn’t work right away. Over the course of a year, she uses her magic on him everyday. This causes him to become distant and easier to manipulate. When she’s almost successful, the king meets the protagonist, who immediately melts his frozen heart. It’s honestly so cliche, you had a hard time getting to the end. When you read the story, you felt nothing for the villains.

Having the queen’s memories, you feel bad for her. Her entire life was dictated by her parents, the duke and duchess. From what she wore to what she ate to what kind of instrument she played, it was chosen for her. Any sense of rebellion was quickly beaten out of her from a young age. She was molded into the perfect puppet that her parents could control. She had no say in the plan. From what you can tell, she didn’t even have any feelings about the king. Or anything for that matter.

Truly a sad villain.

After being found passed out on the floor, you were put on strict bed rest for a few days. According to the doctors the fall from the horse caused the queen to stop breathing for a few minutes. You wonder if at that time she had died, you had somehow entered her body. It didn’t feel like you’re sharing the body with anyone. The only thing left behind are her memories and lingering emotions.

During the mandatory bedrest, you hatched a plan. You need to get the dragon king to be your ally. Sure he’s technically this body’s - your body now - husband, but at this point in time, he’s become very distant because of her magic. You would stop using the magic on him, and hopefully he would return to normal. Then, when the protagonist shows up, they can take down the real villains. You’d have an amicable divorce and live the rest of your life out in peace.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself. Operation save yourself from certain fiery death starts now!

---

“Your highness, are you feeling better?” the old butler, Diablo, from before asks. He sets down a tea tray. Having been with the Draconia family for ages, he’s assigned to watch over the queen.

“Yes, my head doesn’t hurt anymore. The delicious food helps.” If there’s one thing you like about this new life, it’s the food. You could stuff your face with food and never be tired.

The salt-and-pepper haired man pauses but quickly collects himself. He pours another cup of tea while you finish up breakfast. “I’m glad to see you’ve gained a healthy appetite.”

Pausing mid-bite, you remember that the queen only picked at her food. Her memories often depicted a somber scene while she ate by herself. No talking or eye contact was ever made. She never bothered to hide her disinterest.

When you read the book, you didn’t feel too bad for the queen. The author barely wrote about her except when the story needed to continue. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t like the story. The queen was a lackluster villain while her parents were almost cartoonishly evil. The protagonist had been a little better, but still somewhat flat. However, you assumed the appeal was the sweet romance between the two. The romance was actually kind of cute. Speaking of romance, you have yet to see the dragon king in person.

“Your highness?” Diablo brought you from your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You realize your teacup is empty. “Did I drink that?”

He nods. “Yes, your highness. You were deep in thought while taking sips.”

You’re surprised you didn’t dribble any on you. Maybe it’s all due to the rigorous etiquette training the queen had gone through. “Is there anything I have planned today?”

“Not today, your highness.”

Great, you have the whole day to do whatever you want. “Diablo, where is the king?”

“In his study. He’s been up before the crack of dawn,” he informs you.

Thanks to her memories, you know exactly where his study is. You also know she never bothers him until she has to use her magic. However, now that this is your life, you plan to do whatever it takes to save yourself from dying.

“Thank you, Diablo.” Leaving the dining hall, you head to your dear husband’s study. Diablo follows a few paces behind.

“Are you planning to visit his highness?” he inquires.

He’s always with you. “Yes. I thought we could spend some time together.” Glancing behind you, his face is a neutral mask.

He merely nods when he meets your gaze. “An excellent idea, your highness.”

Arriving at the door to his study, you knock. There’s no answer. “Are you sure he’s here?”

“Yes. He rarely leaves his study until lunch time, your highness. Would you like me to check?” He gestures to the door.

“No, that’s okay. I can do it.” Grabbing the handle, you pull the door open. The room is mostly dark due to the curtains being drawn closed. Stepping inside, your eyes adjust to the gloom.

Malleus Draconia is an intimidating figure. Even sitting down he seems to tower over everything. His inky black hair contrasts with his pale skin. His most characteristic trait are the obsidian colored horns on his head. They gleam even in the low light. The lamp on his desk casts shadows on the bookshelf behind him. He’s very fitting for a male lead.

He doesn’t make a move to look up from his work. “Is there something wrong, Diablo?”

The old butler clears his throat. “No, your majesty.”

“I came to see you.” You paste on a smile though it’s a lot more work than you thought. It’s as if this face has never smiled, which wouldn’t be a surprise.

Malleus does look up when you speak. For a brief second his eyes widen before his brows draw together. “Is there something wrong, my queen?” His gaze remains dull. His eyes are like the color of old, dried leaves.

Stepping forward so you’re standing in front of his desk, you shake your head. “Nothing is wrong. Do I need a reason to visit you?”

His expression smooths. He has a cool, detached look. “Of course not. This palace is your home, you are allowed to go wherever you want. Do you need something?”

Clasping your hands together, you lean closer. “I was wondering if we could do something together. Once you’re done with everything, of course.”

He returns back to the paperwork. “I don’t know if I’ll have time. There’s a lot of things I need to do. And the war with the Queendom of Roses takes precedence…”

You blink twice. “War?”

“Yes. Your father had mentioned how the Queendom has been encroaching on his territory. He says they’re looking to take over more and more of Briar Valley. We should act before they even have a chance,” he explains.

Well this is the first you’ve heard of a war. However, if memory serves your right, your parents had invested interest in the land bordering the Queendom of Roses. Your home is a small land squished between two mighty kingdoms. Though not technically royalty, your parents are basically the rulers. They wanted to expand, but couldn’t. Unless…a war breaks out somehow. Compared to the Queendom, Briar Valley is far superior in magical combat. You’re pretty sure all Malleus has to do is wave his hand to annihilate the country off the map if he so wished.

Chewing on your lip, you wonder if there’s anything you can do to prevent this. You’d rather not let your so-called parents win anything. “How about we have lunch in the garden later?”

His hand pauses in writing. “You wish to eat together?” he asks, not looking up.

“Yes, I’d like to.” You’re determined to spend some time with him. Your life is at stake!

“Alright.” He returns back to writing.

Inwardly giving yourself a pat on the back, you flash him a smile even though he can’t see it. “I’ll see then, your majesty.”

Leaving the office, Diablo quietly closes the door. “Where can I find more information about the Queendom of Roses?”

“We can start at the royal library. I’m sure the head librarian can help find what you’re looking for.” Diablo leads the way.

---

You're late for lunch. Getting lost in the research about the Queendom of Roses, you forgot the time. Thankful Diablo came to remind you. Rushing to the gardens with an armful of papers and a few books, you easily navigate your way through the maze of the palace thanks to the former body’s memories.

Arriving, you immediately spy Malleus waiting at the table. Food is set out along with a tea cart. He looks utterly bored. However, he seems to perk up a bit as you come closer. Diablo immediately pulls out the chair for you to sit.

“Sorry I’m late! I got so lost in reading that I didn’t realize the time.” You place the books and papers on the table.

“What’s all this?” he asks, gesturing to the mess.

Trying to make a neater pile, you tap the top of one book. “I’ve been doing some research on the Queendom of Roses. And I don’t think going to war with them would be beneficial.”

“Oh?” He leans back, interest sparking his usual dull green eyes.

Opening one of the books with a map, you point to the page. “The Queendom of Roses is rich in natural resources when it comes to crops. A war would most likely ruin the land, and even magic wouldn’t be able to bring it back to what it once was.”

You rifle through your papers before finding the one you want. Placing it over the book, you continue, “Briar Valley lacks in certain resources when it comes to agriculture. We could make a trade agreement with the Queendom for their crops. It would greatly benefit the people.”

Malleus ponders your words. “And what of them encroaching on your country?”

“They have no need to expand nor do they have the power to do so.” You gesture to another book. “I doubt it’s on purpose.”

He stares at you. “So, are you saying your father lied? Was he trying to spark a fight between us and another country?”

Biting your tongue, you resist the urge to spill the truth. “I’m sure he was overreacting. Being such a small country, father takes the people’s safety as utmost. But I do think a war would be a waste of resources, time, and lives.”

Diablo clears the table of your things before serving lunch. Malleus eyes you curiously. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes,” you answer firmly without hesitation.

Picking up a fork, he spears a tomato slice. “Alright. We won’t go to war with the Queendom.” He turns to Diablo, “Let Lilia know to stand down. I’ll work on drafting a proposal to the Queendom later.”

The butler bows before leaving. You let out a deep sigh but straighten up when you realize Malleus is watching you. “Thank you, your majesty.” You’re glad he didn’t fight you on this. Though maybe due to the queen’s magic, he’s too apathetic to care.

“Somethings changed about you,” he muses aloud. You stiffen as panic starts to build. “Are you feeling well?” he inquires.

“I’m fine, your majesty.” You try to smile convincingly but it probably looks more like a grimace.

“I heard you fell off your horse a few days ago. No lingering aches or pains?” he probes. Why’s he suddenly interested? He didn’t visit once while you were on bedrest.

You stab a carrot. “I feel fine. I did some thinking and decided I wanted to take a more active role. I am the queen, so I should be doing more.” The lie slips easily off your tongue.

He’s quiet for a moment. “I see…”

---

For the rest of the day, you try your best to read into the current situation of Briar Valley. It seems the queen didn’t bother with anything related to politics. All she seemed to do was sit in her room until she was needed. You had many memories of staring blankly at a wall or something equally mundane.

You know there’s probably rumors of how the queen seems to be a different person. One of the maids had mumbled something about the fall knocking her brain around. You could care less what they said as long as you managed to change your fate. Knowing the situation of the country you supposedly co-ruled is a good start.

At least it doesn’t seem like your parents are causing too much trouble. Beyond trying to instigate a war with the Queendom of Roses, they’ve been quiet. Perhaps they’re waiting for the queen’s magic to take hold before doing anything drastic. If your plan works, they’ll be in jail soon.

You’re curled up in bed with a thick history book about Briar Valley. Having taken out a few books from the royal library, your room is starting to look like a mess with the books all over the place. You know the basics about the country from her lessons, but you want to go more in depth. It’s best to know everything you can.

There’s a knock at the door that links to Malleus’s room. Out of habit you glance around for the digital clock at your bedside. But it’s not there. “Of course…”

During your isolation in the bedroom, you found out from her memories that Malleus and the queen do not share a bed. Instead they each have their own rooms, which are connected by a door. However, the queen keeps her door locked. The only time it’s unlocked is when Malleus comes over for an hour before bed every other week. She had made up some excuse about wanting to spend a little time with him before bed. It’s the dumbest excuse you’ve heard but somehow he bought it.

Maybe he wanted to please the queen? Maybe he really is that naive about what couples do? Whatever the reason for him to agree to this ritual, it had made it easier for the queen to cast her magic.

Slipping out of bed, you unlock the door. Malleus stands there in casual clothes. He doesn’t look ready for sleep, but he does tend to stay up late from what Diablo said. You have to bite back the smile when you notice the black dragon slippers on his feet. Very dignified.

“Uh… hi…” This is certainly awkward. “The room’s a little messy, but the bed’s mostly clear.”

Malleus glances around, his eyes landing on the book you had been reading. “History of Briar Valley?”

You lead him to the bed. He sits at the edge of the bed while you scoot closer to the middle. You draw your legs up to your chest. Without asking, he holds out his hand. “Just some light reading,” you joke as you take his hand.

“...”

“...”

You really can’t just sit there in silence for an hour holding his hand. “Where’d you get those slippers?” you ask suddenly.

He blinks slowly while looking down. “Lilia gave them to me for my birthday last year. He said a king shouldn’t walk around barefoot.”

Very reasonable. “They’re cute.”

“Thank you. Would you like a pair?”

“Um, sure.” His hand is surprisingly comfortable to hold.

He nods. “I will ask Lilia to order once he returns.”

“...”

“...”

You glance at your discarded book. “Do you mind if I read?” You aren’t sure how she was able to sit for an hour staring off into space. This is too weird!

He shakes his head. “Go ahead.”

Grabbing the book with your free hand, you adjust your position and place it on your lap. As you return to reading, you can almost forget Malleus is next to you. Almost. A few times you can feel his intense stare, but when you look back, he’s looking at the far wall.

You’re only a few chapters in when he clears his throat. Looking up, he opens his mouth, but then closes it. “Yes?” You wait patiently for him to gather his words.

“The book mentioned the war with the old fae, but it’s wrong,” he informs you after a pause.

“It is?” You glance down at the date. “This took place almost a thousand years ago. Don’t tell me you were there?” Fae are long lived creatures, but you don’t think Malleus is that old.

He shakes his head. “No. Lilia would sometimes tell me stories from when he was in the army. I remember everything he said clearly. The war did not start the way the book states. Though I assume the author could only speculate since most don’t know the truth.”

“How did it start?” You lean closer, interested to hear what he has to say.

“Well…”

---

“...and then everything went up in flames.”

“No!” Eyes widen as your mouth falls open.

“Unfortunately, yes. I hate to admit it, but my control on my flames was not that good.” He sighs, covering his face with his free hand.

Chuckling, you give his hand an involuntary squeeze. “You were young. It’s not like you meant to set everything on fire.”

“That’s true, but for a long time I wasn’t allowed to do anything related to fire.” His lips quirk upward while you try and fail to cover your laughter.

“I-I’m not laughing at you. I just had an image of a smaller version of you.” Your shoulders shake. “I’d love to see a picture of when you were younger.” You can just see a small Malleus pouting while being told he’s not allowed to use his flames.

“I believe there’s a few portraits that were done when I was younger. They’ve been put away, but they should be in the royal storehouse,” he says thoughtfully.

Having calmed down, you shake your head. “Too bad there’s no candid photos of you…”

“Hmm?” He peers at you. “Is seeing a younger version of myself really that interesting?”

You flash him a quick smile. “Of course. Seeing a mini version of you would be so interesting. I’m sure you were very cute,” you tease.

He doesn’t seem to know how to take your comment. Staring at you blankly, his hold on your hand tightens slightly for a second. “Cute?”

“Well, I mean you look…you look, um, nice now. So it’s easy to assume you’d be a cute kid.” Now you’re starting to feel a bit embarrassed.

“I see… So that means you were also cute as a child,” he says in all seriousness.

Did he just give a compliment? You’re unsure what to say. Eyes darting around the room, you clear your throat. “Right. I think we’ve gone over time.” You immediately release his hand.

Malleus straightens up. “I’m sorry.”

He almost looks hurt. You quickly wave off his worry. “No need to apologize! I shouldn’t keep you.”

Standing, you follow Malleus to the door. You catch a glimpse of his dark room. “Good night, your majesty.”

“Good night…” He glances back as the door closes. You turn the lock in place with a click.

Heading to bed, you lay there surrounded by many pillows. A feeling of loneliness settles deep in your chest. You wonder how Idia and everyone else has taken the news of your death.

---

You let out a cough as dust billows out from the curtains. The once gloomy study at least looks a little better with natural light. The queen has her own study across from Malleus’s, but she never used it. It overlooks the garden below. You decided it would be a good place for you to work. And having so many books in your bedroom is starting to be a little too much.

“I do apologize for the dust, your highness. If you want, I can fetch someone to do a quick clean,” Diablo offers.

Wiping a finger along the desk, you note the layer of dust. “I think that would be for the best. While someone cleans up here, I’m going to gather the materials from my room.” The butler bows before leaving.

Leaving the study door open, you go back to your room. Gathering all the books and papers into a stack, you eye the leaning tower. You could make a few trips to ensure nothing will fall. But the less trips you have to make, the quicker you can get down to business.

Carrying the precarious tower of books while tucking the papers under one arm, you walk slowly down the hall. A few maids stop and offer to help, but you wave them off. You’re fairly certain you can handle this.

You’re nearly there when the papers from under your arm slip out. Narrowing your eyes, you shift the balance of the books to one hand. Slowly squatting, you reach out your free hand to try and pick up the papers while keeping an eye on the stack.

“Come on…” Your fingers brush against the papers. “There!” And the tower of books wobbles dangerously. “Don’t you dare…” Unfortunately the books do not listen and the stack tilts over.

But before they can fall, they start to float. Staring at the sight, the rest fly out of your hand. Realizing now that you’re not alone, you finally notice Malleus standing outside his study. He waves his hands and the books fly over to him. They stack neatly while floating at his side.

He gestures to the books. “It seemed that you needed help.”

Picking up the papers, you sigh. “Thank you. I thought I could make it…”

He follows you into the study. “You’ve decided to use the office,” he mumbles aloud. He sets the books on the now clean desk.

“I thought it would be better than my bedroom. And the view is nice,” you explain with a chuckle. “Since you’re across the way, feel free to visit.”

Malleus takes in the nearly empty room. Since the queen had never used it, there were no personal items. He turns back to you. “Do you want to write up the proposal for the Queendom of Roses?”

You owlishly blink. “M-me?”

“Yes. You are the one who came up with the idea. It would only be appropriate for you to draw up the proposal.”

Sure you had all her memories of how to be a proper queen. But she had never done any of her duties. Instead they were all dumped on Mallues. From her memories, he never said a word. He left the queen alone to do what she wanted.

Nervously licking your lips, you slowly nod. “I’ll try my best…”

“I can look over it once you're done,” he offers.

“Okay… Right, let me just start working on this.” Scrambling around your desk, you start shuffling through the papers. Malleus leaves you to your work.

---

Pouring through books on treaties and negotiations, you attempt to draft up a proposal. Diablo provides you with a few old proposals that were made back in the day. You also try to keep in mind the etiquette the Queendom of Roses has. They have a lot of rules; eight-hundred and ten to be exact.

If you want the proposal to be accepted, you need to ensure you’re following all their rules as well. It’s honestly ridiculous, but you’re determined to get this done right. If you can do this and show Malleus you’re capable, it’s bound to make you more favorable in his eyes. All you need is for him to think of you favorably by the time the protagonist shows up.

You crumble up another sheet of paper and toss it on the floor. The proposal writing isn’t going very well. Letting out a deep, frustrated sigh, you set down your pen. “Diablo, what time is it?”

“It’s nearly five, your highness,” he answers right away. You hear him snap the cover of his pocket watch closed. He comes in and out of your office offering tea and snacks. “Perhaps, it’s time you take a break,” he advises.

Groaning, you stand up. “Fine!” You probably sound like a child, but you wanted to get this done as soon as possible. However, you’ve barely made a dent.

“Might I suggest a walk in the garden to clear your head?” He bows. “The weather is lovely and some sun will do you good, your highness.”

Following his advice, you head out to the garden. It really is a beautiful place. Inhaling deeply, you feel some tension leave your body. “Mhmm! You’re right, Diablo. I needed this.”

The old butler bows. “I’m glad my suggestion is helping.”

You continue your leisurely walk through the gardens. There’s still something bothering you about this marriage. Your country is much smaller and weaker compared to Briar Valley. In regards to value, Briar Valley got the short end of the deal. And based on what you remember in the book, Malleus had no feelings for the queen. His one true love would be the protagonist. So why on earth did he agree to the marriage in the first place? The author never explained it.

“Your highness?” Diablo’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm?” He gestures to Malleus, who had at some point shown up. “Oh! Hello, your majesty.”

Malleus looks surprised to see you. “I did not expect to see you here.”

Right, because the queen usually spent her days locked in her room. “I just needed some air. I’ve been working on the proposal but haven’t had much luck.”

He nods. “I see.” You watch as his eyes dull and his face falls back into a stoic expression. The queen’s unique magic is still in effect. “If you need help, I’m sure there are some old proposals Diablo can find for you to use as samples.”

“He’s already done that. I think I just need more time to wrap my head around it.” You can only hope the unique magic effects will wear off eventually. “What brings you out here?”

Mallues holds up a watering can. “I wanted to tend to the roses.” You realize now that he’s actually dressed down. “I know we have the gardeners to take care of everything, but I do like to tend to the roses once and awhile,” he continues. “I haven’t felt up to the task recently, but today seems like a nice day.”

The image of the regal king of Briar Valley taking care of flowers pops into your head unbidden. It’s actually quite a heart warming image. “I didn’t realize you had a green thumb,” you joke. He really doesn’t seem the type to get down and dirty.

Head tilting slightly, he regards you coolly. “There’s a lot of things I like to do. I guess we just haven’t had much time to learn about each other.” There’s no maliciousness in his words, but it still hurts. And even though you know it’s not your fault, you still feel a bit bad.

“I guess we’ve been busy…” you respond lamely. Sighing, you look over to Diablo, but he’s busy minding his own business. “Do you mind if I…if I help?”

“If you want to.” He hands you the watering can. “I’ll do some pruning over there. You can start watering them over in that area.” He’s all business as he directs you.

Despite not being dressed properly for garden work, you don’t comment. Watering plants is fairly easy compared to pruning. As you silently water the plants, you watch Mallues from the corner of your eye. He’s laser focused as he works quickly and efficiently. He’s obviously done this a lot.

By the time you're done, you're sweating, dirty and exhausted. Your clothes are smeared with dirt from the times you leaned a bit too close. Wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, you can feel the fatigue in your body. The queen never did hard work, and you can tell just by how raw your hands feel. Gripping the watering can so much had caused the skin to blister and break.

“Your highness, I believe it would be best to go inside and rest,” Diablo called. The old butler had hovered around you with concern, but you had waved him off. You were determined to get this done without any help. Anything to get on Malleus’s good side.

You can feel the sweat clinging to you like a second skin. “I think you’re right…” you huff. The sun continues to shine down rather harshly as you peer up. “I think I need a bath,” you mumble.

Swaying as you walk, you stumble a few times. Diablo is by your side immediately. “Your highness!”

“Damn this body,” you mutter. Your vision is blurry as Diablo’s voice fades in and out. “I need a nap, Diab-” Then everything goes black.

---

When you wake, your body no longer feels like lead. You sit up in bed. Someone had changed you out of your clothes and into something clean. Panic settles in unbidden at the thought of someone seeing your - the queen’s - back. It’s something she wanted to keep hidden from everyone. Even if she’s no longer in the body, her emotions still linger. Some are stronger than others. This particular topic is a sensitive one.

“You’re awake, your highness.” Diablo stands from his seat in the corner of your room. Your head whips around in his direction.

“Who changed me?” you ask, not bothering to beat around the bush.

Standing at your bedside, he bows. “I did.”

The silence stretches on. Then, “Did you…?”

“I did not see anything, your highness,” he responds smoothly.

Your body relaxes. “Okay.”

Standing up straight, he adjusts his jacket. “Your highness, if you ever wish to talk, know that I am here. Whatever you say to me remains confidential. From everyone.”

A small smile forms on your lips. “Thank you, Diablo.”

Diablo nods. “His majesty wanted to know once you woke up. I will get him.” Giving one last bow, he leaves your room. After a few minutes, Malleus sweeps into the room and to your side.

He suddenly drops down on one knee and bows his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Pl-please stand, your majesty!” You wave your hands around uselessly.

Looking up, there’s something different in his gaze. “I should have realized you aren’t used to working outside like that. Instead of watching out for you like a good husband, I ignored you. Please forgive me.”

Reaching over, you try to push his shoulders to stand, but he does not budge. “Your majesty, I am fine. It’s partially my fault as well. I shouldn’t have pushed myself when I knew I needed rest.” Hands falling on your lap, you sigh. “Please stand, Malleus.”

That seems to have an effect. He slowly stands up. “Still, I should have checked in on you. I promise this won’t happen again.”

Patting the bed, you gesture for him to sit. He perches himself precariously on the edge. “I don’t mind helping with the roses. I want to spend more time with you doing things like this,” you tell him. “You’re right that we barely spend time together, so I’d like to remedy that.” You take his hand in your own.

He’s silent as he stares at your connected hands. Then, “I’d like that as well.”

There’s a comfortable silence between you two. Holding his hand feels comfortable. And dear you say his hand feels safe? It’s a strange feeling but not unwelcome. You feel closer to him now.

“What do you want to do?” he asks suddenly.

You manage to pull your gaze from your interlocked hands. “What?”

He runs his thumb over your knuckles absentmindedly. “You said you want to spend more time together. What did you want to do?”

“Right now?” He nods. “Uh…I don’t think my body can do much.” You look around before your eyes fall on a stack of books. “I was planning on reading a few of Briar Valley’s folklores. Do you want to read together?” It’s rather boring but you really don’t want to move.

Malleus gets up to grab the books. You scoot over to make room for him. He hesitates. “Come on. I promise I won’t bite.”

Sitting on the bed while propped up against the headboard, he hands you the books. “Lilia has read these to me before. But it’s been a long time,” he comments.

“It’ll be a refresher for you and something new for me.” Sharing the book between you two, you flip open to the first story. “Once upon a time…”

---

As promised, you spend a little more time with Malleus. You don’t do anything too exciting like little walks through the garden or reading together. The latter he seems to enjoy a lot. Sometimes he would pop into your office just to check-in. He even starts showing up for breakfast and dinner.

Honestly, it felt strange at first seeing him so often, but you quickly got used to it. And it’s nice to be able to talk with someone else besides Diablo.

“Diablo, where is Malleus?” you ask, setting down your pen. Stretching, your body feels stiff from sitting so long.

“He’s on the training grounds.” Taking the proposal in hand, you leave your office. “Master Lilia has returned with knights Silver and Sebek.”

You pause in your walk. Brief, blurry images of these three people emerge from the queen’s memories. It seems that she didn’t have many memories of these three. “Returned from?”

“They went on a mission in regards to the Queendom of Roses,” Diablo explains. “Since a possible war with them has been called off, there is no need for master Lilia to continue. I’m sure Sebek is thrilled to be back at his highness’s side.” Diablo chuckles while shaking his head.

Continuing your walk to the training grounds, you wonder what they’re like. Since the queen didn’t have any interactions with them, you’re going to meet them for the first time. From the brief information she had, the two knights are meant to protect Malleus. Master Lilia was Malleus’s caretaker from when he was a baby.

As you come to the outdoor training grounds, you can hear the murmur of voices. Malleus stands with the three Diablo mentioned. They seem to be having a good time as he even cracks a smile. At least the queen’s magic is weakening.

Sensing your presence, Malleus turns to you. His eyes immediately fall on the paper in your hands. “Have you finished the proposal?”

“Yup. I wanted you to check it.” Holding out the paper, he starts reading. You notice the other three are staring at you. “Hello…”

Silver and Sebek bow. “Your highness,” they say in unison.

Lilia’s gaze darts between you and Malleus. He smiles slyly. “It’s nice to see you two talking and getting along,” he says aloud.

“Hmm…” Malleus makes a noncommittal noise as he finishes reading the proposal. “It’s not bad. There are a few things I believe you can change, but it’s a good proposal overall. I’ll leave the edits in your office tomorrow.”

If there weren’t people around, you would've patted yourself on the back. “Thank you, Malleus!”

“Hrrk?!” Sebek makes a noise in the back of his throat.

You glance over at him as he tries to compose himself. Continuing, “I also think that once we send the proposal, we should do it the way the Queendom of Roses would.”

“That sounds like a good idea.” Malleus nods thoughtfully. “What are their customs?”

Ticking off the rules on your fingers, “We need to send two messengers on white horses. Each messenger should wear a red rose on their lapel. It must be before or after noon time as the queen typically takes tea then.” Your nose scrunches as you recall all the rules you read.

“They’re rules are unusual,” Malleus murmurs. “But I’m sure this will help better our stance with the queen of hearts.”

“That’s what I hope. Anyways, I’m going to finish up some of the other paperwork. I’ll see you for dinner?” You usually don’t ask since he’s been joining you for breakfast and dinner as of late. However, you want him to catch up with everyone.

Smiling, he nods. “Of course.”

Giving him a wave, you and Diablo return to your study. You can feel the other three staring the entire time.

---

Once you disappear Lilia leans in close to Malleus. “It seems that the queen has finally come out of her frozen shell, hmm?”

“Sh-she called you by your first name…” Sebek mutters, bewildered.

“We’ve been getting to know each other,” the dragon king replies. He has a faint smile on his face as he stares off into the direction you went.

The three exchange looks. Silver clears his throat. “I’m glad to see you two are getting closer. And you seem more yourself, your majesty.”

Hand under his chin, he hums thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, I do feel…lighter.”

“Hoho, to be young~!” Lilia teases.

Shaking his head, Malleus's smile falls into a serious expression. “Did you find anything?” Down to business. His eye flash green as he casts a silencing spell around them.

All three straighten up. Lilia speaks first. “Unfortunately, we do have some bad news about the queen’s parents. It’s too bad seeing as you two are getting along…” He sighs.

“Go on.” Malleus is stone faced as Lilia tells him the news.

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

~

Part 18- Healing

The second they landed, Sal had flung herself at Xilä, sobbing inconsolably in a flurry of emotions ranging from devastation, elation and just pure relief.

Once Sal finally released her, Neteyam was lifting Xi into his arms and bypassing all the other waiting friends and family members- Tuk, Kiri, D’avi, Spider and so many others who’d crowded around.

“Later,” he snapped, “she needs to see Tsahìk,” was all he said before striding off for this grandmother’s tent

The medic they’d taken with them on their journey had done as much as they could for Xi, but Neteyam had watched his wife struggle on the trip back home, she needed proper treatment.

Mo’at embraced them both, murmuring prayers of thanks to Eywa under her breath. She was then giving orders to have a large tub basin brought in as she ushered Xi to a free bed.

Between his grandmother, Kiri and Sal, Xilä was carefully bathed and tended to and all wounds and injuries no matter how minor were treated.

After Xi inhaled a thick nutritional broth and a cup of medical tea, she swallowed the tonics Mo’at had instructed her to before falling into a deep and much needed sleep against Sal.

Neteyam had not left her side once. He hovered and kept a watchful eye as the woman worked seamlessly and efficiently to care for his mate.

A tension of relief he hadn’t realized was stifling him, released when his grandmother had asked if she’d been hurt intimately. Xi had given her a simple resounding NO to the question.

“You should go get cleaned up brother,” Kiri said, taking his empty soup bowl and the filthy cloak and pants he’d removed from himself.

D’avi, who’d come in a while ago was gently finger combing through Xi’s now clean loosened strands. She saw his hesitation and the way his stare lingered on his sleeping wife.

“Don’t be stubborn now. Go, she won’t wake anytime soon…we won’t leave her side until you’re back,” she assured.

It took everything within him to leave the tent. After additional coaxing and light scolding from the two elderly women, he eventually left.

Neteyam soaked the nearest hot spring, washing away the aches and tension from the very long couple of days he’d endured. And of course the entire time, the only thing that plagued his mind was the wellbeing of his mate.

A pang of panic flooded him when he returned to the healing tent and didn’t find Xi where he’d left her.

“Calm yourself, Teyam,” Mo’at soothed from where she’d been tending to a new patient.

“She’s just back there,” she said, jerking her head to a partitioned section of the large tent that led to Mo’at’s personal quarters- which she only ever used if she needed to be close to a patient.

Sal and D’avi were still with Xi when he entered the dim space. They gave him soft smiles and gentle arm pats on their way out, Sal stopping to press an appreciative kiss to his cheek and a whispered “thank you” as she passed.

Neteyam crawled in and laid beside his mate, greedily drinking in the sight of her sleeping features. Dirt and grime free, the cuts and bruises littered about her skin were a stark difference- harsh and prominent.

Guilt ate at him.

He traced the contours of Xi’s face- thumb barely making contact as it brushed over her skin in a feather light motion. Across her brow, curving along the soft of her cheek, down the bridge of her nose before tracing the lines of her jaw, chin, lips- landing finally on her pulse point to make sure he felt that subtle beat.

He snuggled closer, her feet meeting his chins as he plastered himself to her front while they laid on their sides- face so close to her own, their noses touched and heartbeats thumped against each other.

At last, and at peace for the first time in too many days, Neteyam slept.

~

In the first week that his wife returned, both Neteyam and Xilä stayed with Sal and Jxo. Not only because it was easier since Xilä’s room was still available, but Neteyam also thought it best for both her and her parents' comfort.

Within the very second day he began to notice Xi’s behavior. Somehow he knew it was coming, he’d been watching, waiting.

It was subtle little things at first. Actions and hints of an emotion or expression he hadn’t seen from her in a long, long time. Not always, but she’d flinch at the slightest touch or brush- even from him.

Sudden movements and loud noises had her panicky and unsettled.

Shaking hands she’d either clasp up tightly or sit on them altogether to hide, unaware he’d already clocked it.

Nightmares. Those she couldn’t hide even if she wanted to. Some nights she accepted his comfort when she woke up in hysterical tears, and others she’d downplay it all and say she was “fine”.

Fine. Oh how he fucking hated that word.

And so even though he’d expected these reactions from her, even though he’d mentally prepared himself for how to handle it, how to help her… what he hadn’t expected was for her to pretend she wasn’t affected… at all.

His mate, Xilä Sully acted like it was all nothing and everything was fucking normal- fucking fine. Like she hadn’t been kidnapped, like she hadn’t been beaten bloody and bruised, starved, chained and held prisoner because she’d been traded like she was meaningless cattle.

No. Xilä was all smiles and chatty as ever. Her parents had shared his concern at first when he pointed it out, but then they’d just chalked it up to it being that she'd grown and was better at handling traumatic events by now. They were just happy to see her, happy.

Bulllll-shit.

She could fool their friends and their family and everyone else who visited to show their concern or relief that she was back, but him? She could never fool him. He saw through the smiles and laughs that never quite met her eyes.

His wife was hurting, bottling everything up and stifling her pain.

And it killed him.

He tried. Not within that first week of course. But when they’d moved into a temporary little tent near her parents’, he tried talking to her. Tried getting her to open up. She refused… Because of course and once again, she was still fucking “fine.”

It ate at him. Plagued him. He thought maybe, just maybe she was waiting until it was only the two of them again in their own space and away from everyone else. But when she gave him nothing, he pushed, and pushed some more until she finally snapped and told him to give it a rest, to “leave it be.”

Neteyam grew tired and frustrated. He had her back and all to himself now and yet he’d never felt such distance from his wife. He was at his wits end and his own “pretending everything was fine” just for her, was beginning to crack.

They were venturing into the beginning of the third week since her return, and while he had backed off from his mission of getting her to open up, it certainly didn’t stop his hovering.

He hadn’t left her side for a second. Downright refused, even when she’d grumble about his over-clinginess. Duties temporarily handed off to Tasam who he trusted whole heartedly with, Neteyam became worse than clingy- he was his wife’s shadow.

Xilä had observed this early on, noting her husband’s desperation to stay close to her. The way his eyes would light up in panic if she had left his sight for even a second made her heart ache. And at night while they slept, he completely engulfed her, limbs entwined, with his face buried into her neck as if he were trying to seep into her skin.

In the past few weeks, she had barely lifted a finger. Her husband was worse than her mother she summed up. Sal and Neteyam seemed as if they were competing for who could hover and smother her with love and affection the most.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it, to be honest she basked in all the love- or most of it. Not the times when her mate would chastise her for trying to walk on her sprained ankle too soon, or the few times she’d forgotten to take her pain tonics only for Neteyam to launch into a sweet but long winded and overly dramatic lecture as if her not taking her medicine caused him actual pain.

But today was a new day, and Xi was keen on taking back her independence. She was ready to shake off the nightmares that crippled her at night and the flashbacks, and the fear and the looming, constant sense of dread and anxiety that she was so ready to be done and over with.

“Handsome, I’m going to D’avi’s today.”

Neteyam’s head flicked up from the tablet he’d been pouring over as he watched his mate shuffle out from their bed with the empty tray of breakfast he’d made for her.

“Okay, I’ll come too,” he replied, tossing aside his new device to quickly follow right after her, ducking ever so slightly since the top of his head brushed the ceiling. He took the tray from her hands before she could protest, with a light smack to her ass when he reminded her to take her medicine.

Xilä bit her lip as she watched him put away the dishes. “Um… oh, alright.” She couldn’t find it within herself to tell him she wanted to go on her own. She changed direction and pulled out the first medical flask. “Hey, don’t you have your duties to get to by now? I know you took some time off but-”

“Tasam’s got it handled,” he shrugged.

“Okaay… it’s just, you can’t stay cooped up inside with me forever. So, when are you going back out exactly?”

“When I’m ready,” he said flippantly as he moved to fastened on his arm bands and warrior belt. “There’s no need for me right now,” he partly fibbed.

Her brows narrowed at him while she drank the last bitter concoction before chasing it with water. “Lie.”

“Lie?” He faced her head on, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and scabbed-over cut on her cheek he knew would scar. “Yeah, alright you got me… but baby, don’t start something you’re just going to walk away from.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped, pausing her task of rubbing oil on the fading bruises around her neck and arms.

“It means exactly the same thing I’ve been  trying to talk to you about for days, Xilä. I’m not the only liar here. You won’t tell me shit!”

“Oh this again?” She rolled her eyes. “Teyam, I keep telling you, I’m f-”

“Fine?” he finished sarcastically. “Yeah, so you’ve said a few times,” he snarked. “When are we going to stop with the pretending, Xilä?”

“I’m not doing this with you right now,” she snapped. “Are we going or not?” she asked quietly, not even glancing in his direction as she walked right out of the small tent.

“There you go, walking away from me again,” Neteyam muttered to himself with a rub to an eye before he followed after her. He was fucking exhausted.

He caught up to her within four long strides and reached out to link their fingers together. Xilä didn’t pull away, she never did- even after many recent spats, if anything she’d always hold on just as tightly, almost as if he’d disappear.

Halfway through their walk to her sister’s, Neteyam broke the silence.

“We should probably discuss our living arrangements… I know it’s only temporary but I hate where we are right now. I know you do too,” he joked lightly, recording it as a win when she broke out into a smile of her own, nose wrinkling just the way he liked it.

“It is awfully cramped,” she agreed, “and low hanging… I feel for your poor head every time you want to stand up straight,” she laughed. “When do you think we can move back into our home? I miss our own bed.”

Neteyam shot her a sideways glance, hiding his surprise. “You want to move back there?”

“Well, yes. It’s our home. Don’t you?”

When he didn’t immediately answer her, she stopped in her tracks and tugged his arm to halt him too. “Teyam?”

“I thought you wouldn’t want to go back there. I mean- well after what happened. It’s just bad memories, baby. Why don’t we start over somewhere new? There’s a vacancy near my parent’s place. One of the council members relocated their family and I heard the place is great. I can help Jxo do some repairs and remodeling if we need it. We can even get all new shit too, what do you think?”

“But…but it’s our home…we can make our own memories there, erase the bad,” she urged with a tilt of her head, not understanding his want for a new place.

He pulled her in with a warm palm behind her neck, the other spanning her ribs, thumbs gently brushing her skin. “Is that what you want?” he asked with a searching look.

Xilä frowned up at him in confusion. She didn’t understand why he’d even moved them into a temporary tent in the first place and now even more so his lack of enthusiasm to return to their home.

She parted her lips to respond but he continued speaking before she could. “Think about it first, okay, sweetheart? We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with but,” he heaved a breath and hesitated as if he should say more, “just promise me you’ll really think about it.”

“Alright,” she nodded, still frowning up at him.

He simply ducked his head to kiss away her pout, then pulled her along with him again.

Their time at her sister’s was eventful. Babies always had a way of easing tension and making anyone feel better.

Xilä kissed and cuddled her niece and nephew for most of the morning, internally swooning whenever her husband interacted with them in any sort of capacity. He was so gentle with them and although the twins had grown from when last she’d seen them, they looked practically tiny in his arms.

“If you don’t give that man a baby soon, Xilä…” D’avi muttered to her quietly as she pretended to busy herself with chopping fruit. “I swear I’m surprised you’re not already pregnant just by the way he’s devouring you with his eyes. Great Mother, he looks like he’s about ready to pounce right here and now.”

“What are you-” Xi’s words died on her tongue when she caught sight of her mate’s heated gaze from across the room. Heated was maybe the wrong word, he was feral- hungry. She glanced away quickly to hide her blush and squeezed her thighs together to help soothe the ache of sudden arousal- an act that did not go unnoticed by Neteyam.

His stare was immovable as he and an oblivious Yalnïk spoke amongst themselves.

D’avi’s eyes bounced between the mated pair, amusement quirking at her lips. “Three weeks.”

“What?” Xi asked distractedly, attention falling to the woman beside her as she shuffled the baby boy around when he released a little fuss from her lack of attention.

“Okay fine maybe four just because I’m sure he’ll want to wait for your bruises to fade a little more before he sends you into a good old proper bliss. If he’s like this all because you’re holding a baby, Eywa only knows what he’s like all the time. Is he rough with you? I’ll bet he is. He looks like he can be downright dangerous in that dep-”

“D’avi!” she hissed, scandalized.

“What?” her sister laughed. “I’m just calling it as it is. That man is completely obsessed with you, Xilä and I’ll bet-”

“Shush!” Xilä shot her a “shut up now,” glare when her mate began to make his way over to them with L’eya in his arms.

“D’av, I think she needs a feeding,” he said, stooping to hand over the whining babe who was gnawing on her little fist. “I’ll take over for you.”

“You’re sweet,” she smiled, taking her baby girl and moving over so Neteyam could resume her prep work.

Xilä stared at his hands while he worked, teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she appreciated his fingers, they were long and thick, strong yet gentle…and they could do wondrous, wondrous things to her. She watched the way they moved, following the raised veins on the back of his hands before getting distracted by his forearms, and then his biceps and then-

A shrill cry escaped baby L’eo.

“Aw L’eooo, I’m sorry baby. I’m here, helllooo. Hi, hi.” Xi cooed and awed and smiled as she bounced the unhappy baby boy. “Are you hungry too? Hmm?”

“I’ll take him. They’re way overdue for a nap now,” Yalnïk said, reaching down to take his son gently, disappearing behind their privacy partition.

“Fruit, babe?” Neteyam asked, offering her a piece of melon tree fruit.

“Yes ple-mmm,” she squeaked, when he pressed the slice between her lips, thumb sinking in and brushing her tongue for a fraction of a second before it was quickly swiping at her bottom lip and down her chin.

She eyed him suspiciously when he leaned on a hand to loom over her.

“I’m going to put L’eya down for a nap!” D’avi announced louder than necessary as she too disappeared behind their private quarters, grin wide and giddy.

“Good?” Neteyam asked, doing a far better job than she was, of ignoring her sister’s over the top antics.

Xi nodded as she slowly chewed. “It’s sweet,” she whispered, licking her lips unconsciously.

Neteyam followed the movement, gaze hypnotized by her mouth. His free hand circled her thigh, fingers coming dangerously close to her already wet center. “Should I have a taste too?”

Her chest heaved, eyelashes fluttering and eyes glazing over. “Yes.”

His kiss was a peck at first, almost playful. And then they were both sinking into it. Her wrists locked behind his neck and their tongues and lips and teeth synced in a familiar but well missed dance.

“I want you…now,” he declared against her lips, grip tightening around her thigh.

Xilä’s hips jumped at the touch. “I- um, y- okay. Yes. Now. Now,” she rushed, pushing at his chest, but Neteyam was calm and collected as ever.

“Go say goodbye to your sister and her mate. Thirty seconds,” he all but ordered.

Flustered, she scrambled to her feet on shaky legs and poked her head through the curtain divider, only to be met with an already peeping D’avi- one breast exposed as L’eya hungrily suckled against her.

“D’avi!” she hissed. “By Eywa you are just like Sal.”

“Hey! I reject that. I am not as bad as our mother,” she protested, showing not even an ounce of shame at being caught.

Xilä bit the inside of her cheek to quiet her laughter. “I’m going now.”

“Yeah, no shit. Have fun getting dicked out by your- mmpff!” Yalnïk appeared behind her, palm covering his mate’s blabbering mouth.

“Thanks for coming by, Xi,” he said with an over polite grin mixed with an embarrassed grimace.

The second she stepped back into the main room, Neteyam was snatching her hand and dragging her out with a, “let’s go already!”

“Shh, the babies,” she chastised with a giggle.

They hadn’t had sex since her return. Neteyam had flat out refused the two times she’d initiated, citing she was still on healer ordered bed rest.

There was an unspoken urge now.

Desperate.

Maddening.

Xilä was eagerly climbing into bed and pulling at the ties of her top the second they entered their temporary, cramped space.

An “ooff” escaped her when Neteyam pushed her forward, brandishing a spank to her ass before he covered her with his body, attacking her neck with noisy smacks and nips.

She arched when he ground his hips into hers, fingers becoming frustrated by the knots of her clothes. Impatient, he was quickly tearing and ripping them apart until she was bare to him.

“God- oh Eywa. Baby-” He mouthed down the line of her spine, sucking at the base of her tail which emitted the most arousing sound from her throat.

“Now. Net-ngh. Please just- ah!”

He sank two fingers into her heat without warning, making them both moan in unison. “Fuuuucking hell, baby. You’re drenched and so tight, shit. On your knees, ass up,” he ordered.

Xi panted as he stretched her, hips greedily moving in time with his fingers. Her hands fisted in their sheets when he squeezed her tail.

There was nothing sweet or gentle about their lovemaking. It was all carnal and needy, wild and urging.

In one swift moment his fingers were replaced by something much much bigger. Curses flew from his lips and Xilä screamed at the sudden sensation. The stretch was painfully good.

His hips pulled back then snapped again, making them both groan. And then Neteyam was fucking her ruthlessly, thrusts brutal and sloppy. He used her hips as his anchor, palms only leaving her every now and again to purple her ass when he’d send another spank her way.

It was loud and crude and messy. Full of bites, wild snarls and profanity.

Molten heat thrummed in her belly and the air rushed out of her when he collapsed over her completely as they both reached near their peaks quickly.

“Fuck, fuck fu- oh God you’re so fucking tight Xilä!”

“Neteyaaam!” Her mouth lulled open as the fire erupted, Neteyam’s teeth sinking into her neck as he spilled inside her heat just as a powerful orgasm hit her.

They were both panting and covered in sweat by the end of it and Xilä’s poor knees buckled then gave up when his weight became too much.

One of his hands stretched out to entwine with hers while the other sneaked under to fondle her breast.

“I missed you,” he whispered, so quietly Xi thought she imagined it.

“I missed you,” she sighed.

They basked in the quiet until he grew hard once more- still fully sheathed inside of her. He fucked her again, but far softer this time, slowly and leisurely, drawing out her orgasm until she became putty in is hands, all babbling and pliant and so fucking sexy.

When she eventually escaped his clutches, she ventured into their tiny and almost nonexistent kitchenette, ridiculously dehydrated, desperate to quench her thirst.

“Xilä Sully, I swear if you’ve left our bed to brew that stupid Qla’ira root tea after everything that’s happened, I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

Xi choked on air and turned to stare at her husband’s sprawled position- one arm covering his eyes, legs splayed and dick hard once again as his tail sailed lazily.

“Uh- nope, just getting good old regular water, if that’s okay with you,” she sassed quite sarcastically.

He peeked out at her as if making sure, then shot her a smile that did all kinds of things to her.

“That’s fine with me,” he said cheekily. “Now hurry up. It’s almost time for your second course of meds and I’d very much like to make you scream my name one last time before I have to get your lunch prepared.”

Xilä choked on her water this time around.

~

The nights were always the worst for Xilä. She could put on a brave face during the day, but when her eyes closed at night, there was no hiding it.

Li’ona haunted her dreams with a vengeance.

Her father- T'shteyo.

Kayoanaska.

Su’ko.

The cave.

Blood.

Death.

Tonight she was trapped in a moving metal box. Blood coated Askadu’s gaunt and aged face. There were chains clinking with a chiming echo all around her. Vhin was clawing at her. Su’ko’s threats on Neteyam’s life played in a loop.

We’ll string him up right beside your father.

We’ll string him up right beside your father.

A knife.

A struggle.

Her screams.

Death!

Xilä flew up into a seated position with a heaving gasp- panting and shaking severely. Disorientated, she tried to catch her bearings. 

Where was she? 

Panic crippled her for far too many seconds long before her mind registered her location.

Not a ship.

Not Li’ona.

Not the cave.

She wiped at the sheen of sweat coating her skin, cheeks leaking tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed.

Head following the tail wrapped around her thigh, Xilä breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Neteyam was still asleep. Guilt always bothered her whenever she’d waken him with one of her night terrors…he needed his rest.

It took her a minute to properly ground herself, and then she was carefully easing out from her mate’s hold and swinging out of bed to pull on the nearest top and skirt.

Exiting their tent, she shuddered when the nippy air hit her, but she didn’t mind since it cooled her heated skin. She breathed in deeply, trying her very best to practise the exercises Mo’at taught her.

She was here. She was safe. She was loved.

Her feet seemed to move on their own accord, following the carved out paths of the Omaticaya camp, blindly walking into the soft glowing night.

Or not as blindly as she thought…

Without paying attention, Xilä somehow found herself standing in front of her home. She hadn’t been here since that night.

She hesitated, then, finally finding the courage, she climbed the steps, entered and with shaking fingers she flicked on the tiny switch that illuminated the space in soft artificial light.

A harsh dose of reality hit her when she saw the interior.

Tears sprang in her eyes at the sight of the untouched scene.

Their home was…

Like a floodgate opening, a wounded cry escaped her lips… and the scenes played out before her like one of those human “movies”.

T'shteyo entering their home. His threats, his attack. Her retaliation. The things did- he’d beaten her, hurt her. Drugged, then took her from her home.

Xilä saw herself dragged by the hair, tackled to the ground, struggling as calloused hands closed around her throat- squeezing and squeezing.

Her breathing came out in heavy pants now and she stumbled forward, feet colliding with a pillow- the fort…Tuk…

What if the little girl had slept over that night like she wanted too?

Xilä’s chest tightened.

She slowly approached the pile of splinters that had once held her husband’s prized possessions, the weapons he’d collected and crafted over the years- plunge!

Lips trembling, the memory was clear before her eyes. She’d held the knife, she’d stabbed  him. Unseeingly she followed the dot, dot, dot pattern of crimson droplets on the floor. It led her to their private room.

The muted fumes of dried pungent blood was strongest here. The room was sparse, most of their possessions were gone or ruined.

This was not the home she remembered. It was a nightmare.

Overwhelmed, she spun around the room, flashbacks attacking her mind- drowning her, suffocating. She couldn’t breathe.

“You’re lucky he’s not here tonight. I was planning on killing him before we left.”

Air!

Breathe Xilä!

Xilä stumbled out of their room the exact moment someone entered the tent. Eyes blurred by tears, she blinked rapidly to be sure she wasn’t hallucinating. At the threshold stood her husband- a very distressed and panic stricken Neteyam.

Her mate was panting as if he’d been sprinting. His shoulders slumped, a heavy gush of air releasing in utter relief at the sight of her.

Jaw tightening, nostrils flaring, he took a step back, only to approach her in two fast strides. “What is the matter with you? You can’t disappear on me like that, Xilä! What the hell were you thinking just leaving in the middle of the night without telling me anything!” he yelled.

He was angry, no… he was terrified- trembling in distress as furious unshed tears clouded his vision. But then he was instantly deflating when he took in the state she was in. “Baby… Xi, what-”

Xilä crumbled and he was there to catch her.

Sobs wracked her punishingly. She cried for herself, for her husband, for the pain she’d been holding in.

It was gut wrenching, but Neteyam held her the entire time, sinking them to the floor and rocking her in his lap.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m so sorry Te-”

“Shhhh, no, don’t do that,” he soothed, brushing her apologies away. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I've got you,” he cooed, palms caressing her, giving as much comfort as possible.

A few of his own tears escaped him, but he swallowed down his need to fall apart. She needed him.

When her sobs eventually quieted into sniffles and the occasional shudder, he pleaded with her, “Xi, I- please talk to me. I can’t stand you shutting me out. This pretending thing, it’s- I can’t watch you do it anymore. You’re killing me, baby.”

Her head drew backwards to better see him, and whimper escaped her, he looked so… so distraught.

“Is it- is it me, Xi?” He tensed, waiting for her answer. He had always blamed himself for it all- from the get go, but deep down, he feared that maybe she did too.

“What are you talking about?”

“I wasn’t here. I left you and I-” His speech was cut off by her fingertips.

“Don’t do that,” she said sternly, using his own words back at him. “It’s not you- never you,” she whispered fiercely, gentle fingers gripping at his nape.

He sighed, disappointed that she was still holding back. Taking a leap for the both of them, he circled her wrists as if it were his lifeline and geared himself up to speak.

“I haven’t told you this but, I didn’t deal with you being kidnapped very well… I was an emotional mess and a real jerk to the people who were just trying to help me get you back. It brought out a real ugly side of me, a side that didn’t care about the lives I was taking or the lengths I was willing to go to.”

He wiped away the lone tear that escaped her and mildly joked, “Don’t get me wrong, but I don’t regret most of the things that I probably should. It all just showed me that you matter way more to me than I can even comprehend… Xilä, I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you, which is fucking terrifying- like I need you to understand that every time I think I’ve found the limit for just how much you mean to me, I realized that I’m not even an ounce close.”

Xi blinked, digesting everything he’d said, unsure where to even start. “I- I didn’t know all of that. Are you doing better now?”

“Than before? Yeah, I got you back… but you’re still making me worry. I see you struggling, baby. You don’t need to keep it all in. I don’t want you to.” He tucked a braid behind her ear. “What happened to you out there, Xilä?”

She bit her lip, brows drawn together as she considered his words. Xi shrank inwards, unable to face him as she finally recanted her story.

Over the next half hour all she did was talk, and all he did was listen, gaze zeroed in on her lips to not miss out on anything. It was difficult to hear- all of it. At the mention of Su’ko’s intention and attempt to claim her, Neteyam made a soft, wounded noise as if he’d been physically punched in the gut.

By the end he had a million questions he wanted to ask, but the main nagging one tore from his lips before he could help himself- only it came out harsher than he intended.

“He touched you?”

Xi flinched at his tone, then nodded ever so reluctantly. “Not- not badly though- it wasn’t as bad as you’re probably thinking. It-” She stopped to think of how to better phrase it. “Su’ko he just…”

She was downplaying it.

He knew it and she knew it.

“Where.”

“What?”

“Where did he touch you?” He took her hand and squeezed gently. “Show me.”

So she showed him. Her fingers started at her hairline, trailing slowly to meet her cheek, neck, waist, ending at her ankle which was circled by an ugly looking chain-like imprint.

When she was done, Neteyam was kissing her palm and whispering words that didn’t quite reach her ears. His lips found her hairline, and then he was kissing and caressing every inch of her she’d just shown him.

It was intimate, soft and unexpected, but not sexual in the slightest. Soon he was pushing her backwards as he moved down her body, going over each spot with determined precision.

And although her tears had dried by now, a wave of emotion rocked her as he kissed her skin. It was as if he were washing away Su’ko’s touch- replacing them with his own.

Xilä reached for him the second he’d finished with her ankle, lips seeking out his to pour out her own form of attention, apology…gratitude.

“How do you feel?” he asked as they sat side by side now, both quietly observing the shambles of their home.

“Better. So much better,” she smiled. “Thank you… I don’t know what I ever did to deserve yo- don’t laugh,” she chastised, unable to help the giggle that slipped her. “I’ve done nothing but cause you trouble ever since I came to the forest and I’ll bet you wished you chose som-”

He shut her up by claiming her mouth again, a bit more aggressive this time, with a bite to her jaw and a pinch to her butt when he pulled away. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

“Bossy,” she grouched with little heat.

Xilä sighed when she spotted one of her most beloved trinkets from Tuk, smashed into pieces. “We can’t stay here, can we?”

“No… I don’t think I can do it,” he admitted. “We need a new start, Xi. This place will only haunt us.”

“Alright, you're not wrong.”

“Come on.” He helped her get to her feet and drew her into his arms. “We leave it all here tonight, okay? The bad memories included. The moment we leave here, we’re starting over. Only good things ahead. Agreed?”

She nodded. “Agreed.”

“Alright, I can’t stay a second longer. Let’s go, babe.”

On their way out she asked, “Can we at least keep the tapestry?”

“The one on the ground covered in blood? Yeah I don’t think so, Xi. No.”

She gave an exaggerated pout, playfully swatting him with her tail.

“I’ll get you a new one. Promise.”

~

In the few weeks that followed, Neteyam and Xilä poured all of their free time and energy into fixing up their new home.

They went with the evicted one his mother had told him about. It was large, very large and Xilä was hesitant at first because she didn’t know what they’d do with all that free space.

But as they viewed every empty room, one after the other flashes of a possible future hit her. She smiled as she imagined the rooms filled with toys and clutter and the sounds of running little feet and happy shrieks and giggles.

She had a feeling her husband was thinking the same thing since he pointed out a beam that would “be perfect to track the kids’ heights.”

One perk she was also loving was that they now had access to their own personal water stream. The tent lined the same perimeter as the Sully’s home- four tents down, to be specific, so it shared the same little river trail.

Neteyam didn’t return to his duties all at once at first. He was still very uncomfortable leaving Xi on her own. So whenever he and Jxo worked on repairs in their free time- the father-in-law teaching him a thing or two during the process, he used that time to slowly ease into their separation.

And since Xilä had returned to her lessons- three days a week instead of her usual five, she too was able to help out where she could- not that they let her do anything too strenuous.

Two days after they finally moved, they hosted a small housewarming with their closest friends and family- which turned out to be more people than they thought.

However, with all the free space it wasn’t cramped but allowed for everyone to be comfortable as they lounged and chatted, ate and indulged in a few fun games.

“Full house you got here, brother,” Lo’ak joked when he approached Neteyam, drinks in hand.

Neteyam snorted in response, accepting his drink with again quiet thanks. He glanced around at their main room.

Jake and Jxo always seemed to gravitate towards each other during any family event he’d noticed. The two men- joined by Stephan this time, sipped on their drinks as they chatted, which included lots of head nods and folded arms.

A rowdy game was being played in the center of the room by Yalnïk, his twin, Xilä, Kah’lee and most surprisingly, Neytiri and Sal who’d just joined. Neteyam wondered if it were his mate who’d gotten the two women to actually play as well.

D’avi and her sister-in-law seemed to be scheming, perhaps playing matchmaker as they teased a blushing Tasam and Kiri all whilst Spider shot pointed glares from his own card game with a few of Neteyam’s patrol buddies.

Kids were running and screaming about- Tuk having company her age as Yalnïk’s twin and his wife had brought along their brood of children.

Ze’lu was chasing after them, catching and tossing them up in their air as they shrieked with excitement. Meanwhile a less than covert Leati kept shooting the man fleeting hungry glances- looking every bit like she enjoyed what she was seeing.

“You seem happy,” Lo’ak said, pulling his attention away again.

“I am. Very.”

His brother nodded and an odd expression crossed his face.

“What is it?” Neteyam asked.

“I wanted you to know before I told anyone else… I spoke to mom and dad and I uh, I’m leaving in a couple days. Heading out to Awa'atlu.”

“Awa'atlu? But our trip’s not due for another couple months why would-” He paused. “Oh. Ohh. Tsireya…”

Lo’ak clenched his jaw. He didn’t think it was that obvious. “What? Are you going to tell me I’m wasting my time too?”

Neteyam’s brows shot up at the accusation. “Who the hell told you that?”

“Spider,” he spat with an eye roll. “What does he know?”

“Hmm,” Neteyam clicked his tongue and grinned. “Well I was actually going to say about damn time.”

“Has it been that obvious?”

“Pretty much, baby brother. What got you to finally go after all this time?”

“Uh, you actually. Well you and Xi,” he admitted sheepishly with a scratch to the back of his head.

“Oh?”

“You two are… well I want what you two have… I saw what you were like when she was gone. And when you got her back I- I dunno. I’ve never loved anyone that much. I want that kind of love. The kind that’s sweet but all intense. I tried to find it here but no one…it’s dumb and I know I was a stupid teenager back then but I’ve only ever felt a semblance of it with her… I thought I needed to know for sure before I could move on properly. Does that make any sense?”

“Of course it does. I’m proud of you for doing this, Lo’ak. And ignore Spider, I’m sure he’s only said that because he’s going to miss you.”

His brother grinned. “Thanks… Spider thinks she already mated up with a rowdy bunch of babies,” he said bitterly. “I know he means well and doesn’t want to see me hurt but…some stubborn part of me thinks she waited… for me.”

“Well. Make that two of us, brother.”

“Got any advice on how to win her parents over? From what I remember, Tonowari was an intimidating fucker.”

Neteyam laughed. “Oh yeah, that he was. But Jxo’s got him beat. Don’t worry, Yalnïk and I will give you some tips before you go.”

After chatting for another couple minutes, they were interrupted by Xilä who came over to wrap him up in a hug.

Neteyam pressed a chase kiss to her lips, grinning wide at the sight of her infectious smile. “Having fun, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, yep. You boys, your mother is incredibly competitive. She is cut-throat and no joke.”

The brothers cackled, spotting their mother who was now head to head with the only other final player- Yalnïk. Sal and the others were howling in delight at the pair. It was refreshing to see.

“Dammit, XiXi, will you keep your sister on a leash, she looks like she’s stirring up shit again,” Lo’ak complained with no real heat and a laugh. “Shit. I better get in there before a fight breaks out. He might be little, but he can cause some serious damage.”

Xi and Neteyam watched him leave, both releasing laughs of their own at the sight of him talking down an overly jealous looking Spider who seemed about ready to kill an unsuspecting Tasam.

“Uh-o. Kiri’s got her hands full now… D’avi!” she hissed loudly. “Stop!” she mouthed.

D’avi shot her an innocent look before going over to check on her little ones who were being happily doted on by her mother and Mo’at.

Xilä sighed and slumped into her chuckling husband. He squeezed her gently nosing at her sweet smelling hair.

“Want to go flying later?” he asked. “As much as I enjoy this chaos, I love when it’s just the two of us.”

She nodded in agreement against his chest. Peering up at him, a burst of happiness filled her. “I love you.”

He stared right back. “I love you too, baby.”

~

“Why is it so difficult to admit that you like him?” Xi asked her friend as she bounced a gurgling L’eya on her knees.

“Because I so clearly don’t!” Leati snapped.

Kay’hlee and Xilä exchanged knowing glances, both doing a poor job of hiding their amusement.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re all my brother talks about at home. He’s smitten with you… Hypothetically, if he did sum up the courage to ask, would you agree to court him?”

Leati’s mouth opened and closed comically, no sound coming out. “I- pfft. What? As if he would ask me to- he… he talks about me?”

“Constantly.”

The poor warrior flushed. Taking pity, Xi removed the attention from her.

“What about you Kah’lee? You and W’aote look pretty cozy lately,” she teased, bringing the baby up to plant kisses all over her chubby cheeks, making her squeal in delight, gummy and drooly grin all on display.

“W’aote is… wild. I never thought I’d be interested in someone like him, but,” she shrugged with a stupid, swoony expression Xi was all too familiar with, “he makes me laugh, all the time and although he’s insanely unromantic and sticks his foot in his mouth half the time, he can be a real softy… The sex is the added bonus- it’s absolutely mind-blowing.”

Xilä and Leati broke out into giggles, L’eya joining in as if she understood their conversation. The introverted and soft spoken Kah’lee surprised Xi more and more every time they hung out.

Xi made her way around the room, spending pockets of time with each of their guests. Midway a conversation between her, Neytiri and Sal, a pair of little arms hugged her from behind, small chin poking the top of her head as a body sagged against her.

“Hi, Tuk,” she greeted.

“Hi, Xi.” Tuk’s face hid in her shoulder with a tiny pout before she plonked herself next to Xi.

“What’s with the face?” Xi laughed, observing the way the little girl stared at the baby as if she were unsure how to feel.

Tuk loved L’eya- and Leo, but sometimes her jealousy got in the way. She was no longer the youngest, and more than once she’d express her unhappiness by vying for the attention of either her parents or siblings if they held either of the babies for too long.

Shaking her head in response, she cuddled into Xi’s side, defiant glare set on L’eya who blinked back at her with big gold eyes.

“Tuktirey,” Neytiri said in a very motherly warning tone.

In the end, Tuk grew bored of the adult conversation and chose to play in Xi’s hair instead.

“How have you been doing, Xi?” her mother-in-law asked.

“Good, really good. I’m sleeping better and finally off the tonics,” she said. “I’ve got my support team especially to thank,” she directed right at Sal. “And my husband of course. Your son is a very patient man,” she joked, gaining chuckles in response.

And it was all the truth. Xilä was doing better. She still had the occasional nightmare or two, but her weekly sessions with the Tsahìk helped plenty. She also vented quite a lot to her mother. Sal was a saint, and although Neteyam did a fantastic job, sometimes a girl just needed her mother.

“Time heals all wounds,” Moat would say.

Her bruises did fade, and her cuts healed nicely, only the one on her cheek left a very faint scar- a scar that her husband was forever kissing or simply brushing with his lips or knuckles.

As the two women continued to chat, Xilä’s gaze found her mate on the other side of the room. He was all grins as he and some of the guys partook in a boisterous game. He glimpsed her way, as if he’d been doing so constantly throughout the afternoon, double taking when he caught her already staring.

“You okay?” he mouthed.

She nodded with a wide beam.

He shot her a silly wink before turning back to his game, loud cheers and groans erupting with whatever play had just transpired.

Later that night, their parents were the last to leave. Hugging them all goodbye, she gave Jake his very own entire loaf of HoneyCornbread she’d purposely set aside for him- much to her father-in-law’s delight.

“Leave it, sweetheart,” Neteyam said, stopping her from starting the clean up when they were finally alone. “W’aote and Spider lost against me and Yalnïk. They’re on clean up duty, so they’ll come over in the morning first thing.”

A laugh escaped her. “Well, alright then. Do you want to go flying now?” she asked, releasing her hair from the ridiculous updo Tuk had put it in, unaware of her advancing mate. “Or um, something else?”

“Something else?” he asked, capturing her hips with his hands.

Her head tipped backwards, expression telling him everything he needed to know.

“Oh that something else…”

She squeaked when he lifted her by the thighs. “I mean we don’t have too, but..”

“What do you want then? Tongue or fingers, Xi?”

“Both. Always both.”

“There she is! She’s back!” Neteyam hooted, jostling her in his arms as he made a beeline for their private quarters. “My greedy little mate is back!”

~

Gasp! A post? In two weeks?! Who is this?

Happy New Year Lovelies!

Shout out and big thanks to my friend Tori, I couldn't have done it without her.

As always, please let me know what you think :)

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[evamadeln]

Understanding and Addressing Elder Abuse [Video]

[racfoam]

A Killer’s Poem (WIP)

Summary: Harry met her husband in the library when she was twenty. He was an elderly gentleman named Tom, a retired university professor. Harry doesn't know her husband is a serial killer - the same one who carved the scar on her forehead and orphaned her - and when the police arrests him she says that must be wrong but all the evidence points otherwise...

These are only some scenes I wrote for the fic. Thanks to @loneamaryllis for providing some great lines! 💕💕❤️

Harry couldn't believe she was at the police station with Mr Lestrange, the lawyer whose number she found in the phonebook Tom gave her for emergencies. Having policemen drag her husband and cuff him while asking Harry if she was hurt — No, she was not, why were they cuffing Tom — and a detective calling Tom a “sick bastard” after he recognised Harry as the almost-victim of Lord Voldemort (a serial killer who was never caught). He’d pulled Harry away from Tom like Tom would hurt her, and told Tom, “You’re under arrest, Lord Voldemort.”

Harry thought the policemen had gone off the rails. Her husband was a man of poetry and prose, not of a dagger and a gun. He held books, not guns or knives. He was seventy-four, for God’s sake!

Harry insisted going with the policemen to the police station.

***

The police officers showed her the pictures of all the victims. They were all similar, young women with dark hair and lovely faces.

In the files of their eye colour, all of their eyes were green.

Harry tried not to tremble.

“It wasn't Tom.” she repeats, feeling like a broken record. Tom, who was seventy-four, grey-haired and grumpy in the mornings before his tea — or sex. Tom, who quoted all sorts of poems and literature to her. Tom, who took her to theatre and suffered through Titanic with her every time on the sofa, soothing her as she sobbed over Jack’s sad fate.

“I'm surprised he used his former name with you.” said the police officer, and Harry wanted to grab him and shake him, shout that Tom isn’t Voldemort, that Voldemort isn’t Tom. “But then again, you knew him by his alias, Voldemort.”

“It isn't Tom,” Harry spat.

The detective sighed. He walked back to the doors and whispered to one of his people, “Bring her to the screening room.”

The agent looked surprised. He glanced to Harry with worry.

“Sir, are you sure we should —”

“She deserves to see the real him. Now move it, Diggory.”

Liar. thought Harry acidly, glaring at the detective. Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar.

***

Tom is on the other side of the glass. The detective is showing him the same photographs of the dead bodies — Voldemort’s victims.

“This isn’t being recorded.”

“I’m aware.” replied Tom coolly.

“You can be honest here. Why did you kill them?”

His smile was dark and menacing, sending terror down Harry’s spine.

In the light, his brown eyes turned red.

Red...

Harry remembered the red eyes vaguely, always waking up in a cold sweat, remembering the crimson red, their flames threatening to engulf her, destroy her...

“Because they weren’t her.”

“It means something different, that sentence, with you, doesn't it?” asked Detective Shacklebolt.

Tom smiled again — that terrifying smile.

Who is this? This can’t be Tom. This isn’t Tom.

“Yes, indeed,” murmured Tom silkily. “If I killed Harry, I would never feel that rush of victory again. It would be completely over. I killed them because they weren't her. They weren't her, so I could kill them, imagine it was Harry, for those precious moments... Without ever truly hurting Harry.”

Tom smiled gleefully, grinning wide.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” he crowed.

***

“We’ve lost the evidence.”

“Lost?” asked Harry, cringing at the hoarseness of her voice. “What do you mean, lost?”

“We’re releasing your husband from custody at 9 am when the paperwork is done.” said Detective Kingsley; he sounded defeated. “Mr Lestrange is already here, filling out the paperwork. Your husband’s suing us, including for emotional abuse inflicted on you.”

Harry gulped. “I... I don’t want to sue —”

“Your husband’s suing, either way.” said Kingsley with a tired sigh. Harry could imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Harry. But at least you know now.”

What was that worth now?

“He's sending Lestrange's brother to pick you up. He... how did he become so attached to you? He didn’t stop asking about you.”

Harry didn’t know.

***

“Does your stomach still hurt?” he asked. His old, slender, large, thin hand reached out to touch her.

Harry scooted away from its reach, like it was a spider about to gorge itself on her flesh.

Voldemort’s grey eyebrows furrowed. He brought his hand back to his side, but his eyes were dark, and his gaunt jaw tense, showing clear displeasure.

“I’ll go make you some tea.” he said. Before Harry could scoot away, he leant down — she flinched, closing her eyes, hoping the killing blow would be quick — and kissed her sweaty forehead.

He stood up from the edge of the bed and left, closing the doors behind himself.

Before Harry could stop them, she burst into tears, the salty trail rushing down her cheeks.

Nausea hit Harry again. Clenching her teeth, she moved her legs to the side, setting them on the floor.

Another bout of nausea hit Harry as she stood on uneasy legs. Feeling the bile rise up, gagging midway through the bathroom door, Harry collapsed against the bowl of the toilet and threw up.

Panting and shaking, Harry couldn’t help as another gag assaulted her, and she vomited into the toilet again.

Harry heard footsteps rushing up the stairs. She tried to get up, but only ended up on the bathroom rug again.

Her muscles felt weak, all her energy suddenly stolen from her by the bout of nausea.

Voldemort rushed into the room, nearly knocking the doors down from the force he opened them with. When he entered the bathroom, he looked insane.

Harry’s eyes fluttered close and opened again. The face of a murderer was replaced by an expression of concern.

By the time Harry realised he was touching her, it was too late to tell him to stop.

“It’s all right.” he said.

No it isn’t. thought Harry, but she didn't say anything, too busy catching her breath, too busy leaning back into his warmth on instinct, on habit.

Voldemort whispered comforts in her ear, and when Harry gagged again and threw up, he held her hair back. And when she collapsed back, all saliva and sobs and tears into his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, as well.

It felt like nothing changed. If she closed her eyes, she could call him Tom in her head again, and he’d be her wonderful, attentive husband.

Harry heard the water flush, and she felt dizzy, just like the spinning water. She felt hands cradle the back of her head and her knees, before she was being lifted up. She kept her eyes closed, focusing on the soothing smell of her husband’s cologne.

The plush, soft mattress was like paradise, and her head was placed on an upholstered pillow.

“Did those fools give you expired food?” hissed Voldemort. The sound of his cold, menacing voice broke the illusion.

Harry shook her head twice. “Didn’t eat anything...”

A hand pressed to her forehead. Grey eyebrows furrowed.

“No fever.” he said. “When did your stomachache start?”

“I dunno...” she slurred tiredly. She just wanted to sleep... “Two hours after I got to the police station. I threw up the first time there, too, but that was...”

After it sunk in you are my would-be-killer.

The silence stretching along made her more nauseous.

“I’ll call our doctor.” he said, bending down and kissing her on the forehead; his lips were warm, and she melted into the pillow. “Stay in bed. I’ll bring you a bowl if you need to throw up again.”

Harry found herself dozing off, aware yet not, finding a bowl cradled in her hands the next time of awareness, then their doctor’s voice murmuring as her temperature was taken, then the pulse, Voldemort’s fingers holding her hand...

A hand was caressing down her hair. Recognising it, Harry instinctually leaned into it. Tom was whispering her name, his silken voice bewitching her deeper into sleep.

“Wake up...”

Harry didn't want to. She felt nice and warm here, on the bed with Tom whispering gently to her...

“Harry.”

Harry opened her eyes. Tom was looking at her, his face stern.

“You need to go to the bathroom, darling.”

Blinking, sleep still weightening her eyes, Harry stared at her husband, wondering why he was telling her she needs to go to the bathroom.

“You need to take a pregnancy test.”

That woke Harry up. Her eyes shot open, stretching wide.

“Very funny.” said Harry, not finding it funny at all. “Taking the piss out of me after everything you did. Let me sleep.”

Harry turned away from him.

“I’m not joking.” said Voldemort behind her as Harry closed her eyes to go to sleep. “Everything is normal. It’s better to do it and remove the possibility of your nausea being caused by pregnancy. That way, we’ll know if it’s a stomach flu —”

“Leave me alone.” said Harry.

Harry could feel Voldemort's eyes boring into her skull. With a yawn, she said, “I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m tired.”

Harry felt Voldemort leave the bed, his weight disappearing from her side, taking his warmth with him. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, and she fell back to sleep. Harry woke with another sense of nausea.

By the clock on the dresser, it was 7am. Voldemort’s side of the bed was used, but he was nowhere around.

Probably in the kitchen making breakfast.

Harry took a bit to wake up fully. When she did, she had to pee very badly, and decided to get it over with. She took the pregnancy test on the night table and went to the bathroom.

Twenty seconds later, she laid back on the bed and yawned, placing the pregnancy test stick on the night table.

When she next opened her eyes, two pink lines on the pregnancy stick were staring back at her.

A surge of panic hit her, and she shot up from the bed, grabbing the stick, then her glasses, because surely she was seeing double...

She wasn't. Two pink lines stared back at her, no matter how long she stared at them.

Harry felt a mad laugh of despair bubble up in her throat, but she forced it down. How was this her life?

In that moment, the doors opened.

Fuck. No time to hide it. No time to fake it.

Voldemort, carrying a tray with toast and strawberry jam, entered the room.

His eyes settled on the stick.

“What does it —”

Before he could finish, Harry launched the damned fucking stick at him — he could read it for himself, the damned bastard — and rushed to the bathroom, locking the doors.

[cynthiabaileyrug]

15% Off My Print Books Until October 7, 2022

15% Off My Print Books Until October 7, 2022

My publisher is having yet another sale! 15% off all print books when you use code PUMPKIN15 at checkout. My print books can be found at the following link: https://www.lulu.com/spotlight/cynthiabaileyrug

[sebsxphia]

“who hurt you?”

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ description: you disclose to bob about a previous relationship and bob makes it his mission for you to feel safe and loved again.

￫ word count: 1.9K.

￫ c/w: mentions of past abusive relationships, mentions of traumatic memories, mentions of sexual assault, vomiting, angst, swearing, kissing, beginnings of smut with bob, nipple touching and kissing, praise, fluffy and soft ending. bob is a big softie who wants to protect you.

￫ a/n: i’ve wanted to write this for some time now. it’s something that i hold dear to me and it’s helped me process and deal with my own trauma. a little form of therapy if you may!! i understand this topic is heavy, but i wanted to share this as it helped me and i hope it can help others. if i missed any content warnings, please let me know. if you want to talk about anything, my inbox and dm’s are always open and i’m always here to listen <3 my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob Floyd was a patient man. In fact, he was the most patient man you had ever met. If the barista got his order wrong for the second time, he shook his head and wouldn’t accept their apology because it simply wasn’t their fault and he would be happy to wait for another. If he was walking behind an elderly couple in the supermarket, he would trail behind them and stop for as long as they did by the pasta options. If you dropped your favorite mug and you were sobbing in his arms, he would cradle you until your tears subsided and he’d offer to purchase a new mug, specially from him.

Therefore, he was patient with you when you couldn’t find the words to tell him who the guy was you saw crossing the street in front of you.

“Darlin’, you practically froze up. I could feel your heart pounding through my hand.”

“Please, Bobby. Please can we go home?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

During the first months of your relationship the sex with Bob came naturally and willfully. He was incredible. He was so fucking incredible and you craved his touch more and more. But one thing you couldn’t work out is if you craved his touch because it made little whimpers fall from your lips, or because you needed it for security.

However, the thick haze from your previous relationship was wearing off with each passing day. Feelings and emotions you had pushed deep down had the lid thrown off and they were slowing seeping out. Like a leaking tap getting looser and looser, and one day, it was inevitably going to burst.

Memories from the relationship started to come back and flood your mind. Horrible situations you had all but forgotten suddenly arose to the forefront and you caught yourself crying over the kitchen sink at night before Bob came home on multiple occasions.

Although you loved your dear Bobby and you trusted him with your heart and soul, physical sensations started to catch you off guard and your mind reversed back to your previous relationship. Bob ghosted his fingertips over your breasts, running his thumb and forefinger over your nipples and you instinctively brought your forearms over your breasts as to cover yourself. To protect yourself from harm.

You stood in the shower with Bob and he towered over you and gripped feverishly onto your shoulders. Bob pushed you against the wet shower tiles to press kisses all over your collarbones and breasts and you instinctively repeated the same protective motion as before. You ducked your head to cradle him upwards and kiss you instead. You wanted to guide Bob away from there, away from the area that you recognized only as painful.

You both came home from a date night. You were a bottle of wine down between the two of you and your messy make out ended with both of you falling onto the sofa in a heap with limbs tangling up in each other. Bob broke from the teeth clashing kiss to hurriedly remove his trousers as he knelt in between your spread thighs. He threw his trousers haphazardly behind your head, aiming for the end of the sofa however, his sturdy belt got caught in your hair and your head was whipped to the side.

The leaking tap had finally burst.

Your arms shot up to cover your breasts and you felt a bile pool deep in your stomach. You wanted to be sick. You’d never felt such nausea and quicker than you could catch your breath, you were craning your neck over the sofa and spewing up the bile.

Bob yelled your name in fear and scrambled from his position to hold back your hair that had already caught some of your sick. One of Bob’s hands cradled your head so you were able to vomit without anything getting caught in your throat.

The next moments were a blurred and slurred memory. Your shaking frame was lifted from the sofa and carried gently upstairs. Bob was careful not to knock any part of your body on the way up, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. You could feel the soft linen bedsheets underneath your legs, the same ones Bob changed fresh this morning. Your ears picked up the sound of Bob running the tap in your en-suite and then you felt the cold water drip down your throat, covering the burning acidity and cooling it.

And then you came to, as if you had woken up from a horrid and violent nightmare. You were pressed against Bob’s bare chest and it was warm. It was so warm. The skin on skin contact with Bob soothed you, like applying ointment to a cruel and nasty burn that was blistering harshly. His arms were locked around your torso and shoulders, holding you against him. There was a soothing rocking motion and his fingers were sporadically spread over your back, drawing lazy shapes. Occasionally you felt his fingers cut through your hair and graze over your temple.

You never told Bob about your previous relationship and you couldn’t face it right now. You couldn’t bare to disclose the gory details to someone as sweet and as soft as Bob. He didn’t deserve to hear those vile things. Perhaps you had rationalized in your head that it wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be and you were just over reacting. That what you thought had happened, hadn’t, and you were never hurt in the first place. And lastly, you didn’t want to burden Bob with such minimal issues.

But your Bob, your dear and loving Bob could see straight through the wall of illusion you held up and he knew you were hurting.

Bob craned his head down to match your gaze, your eyelashes fluttering open as if you were blinking away the glassy look you’d held for the past thirty minutes.

“There you are, my love.”

“What happened?”

“You kinda just- just passed out. You were still conscious, but your whole body went limp. Vomited a bit too.”

Your eyes went wide and you swallowed at Bob’s startling words, recognizing the acidic taste that lined your throat. You stirred from Bob’s tight hold. You needed to get up and clean it.

“Hey, hey. Stay here, darlin’. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Bob nuzzled his nose against your forehead as you came back to rest on his chest. He could feel your tight back muscles release underneath him as you relaxed against him. He removed one hand from your back to nimbly tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He kept his hand there and cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over the rise of your supple cheek. You looked up at Bob and matched his safe blue eyes. Crystal clear blue eyes that would protect you until you took your final breath.

“Talk to me.” Bob murmured. His voice was an octave above a whisper and his Southern drawl peeked out.

“I- I don’t know where to start.”

“Tell me what you remember. I’ll always listen to you.”

Amongst Bob’s many traits that made him a good Navy pilot, good enough to fly for Top Gun, one of them was that he could people watch and read people notoriously well. That’s how he came to notice you for the first time in a coffee shop just outside of Fightertown. Bob sat in the corner ignoring his team mates conversations and zoned in on you instead, the sweetheart sat in the opposite corner to him.

Bob had a sixth sense for noticing little details that most people would miss, therefore he became incredibly attentive to watching you from day one. He watched your little quirks as you flipped through your book, occasionally annotating it, the way you sipped the same side of your coffee cup every time.

He watched you when you physically recoiled, your face contorting into a painful wince as you saw that stranger crossing the street in front of you a couple of months ago. Bob was a man of patience and he understood that he had to earn your trust, that right, that privilege for you to tell him.

“Who hurt you, sweetheart? Was it him?”

But Bobby already knew. He knew the bitter answer that caused a sickness to swirl like a horrid and devastating ocean storm in his stomach.

“Did he touch you? Did he fucking touch you?”

Bob’s voice didn’t get louder. How could he ever be angry at you. It wasn’t your fault. It never was.

Your lip wobbled, your chin quivering in turn and the glassy gaze of your eyes shattered as tears broke the corners of your eyes and streamed over your cheeks. You buried your face back into Bob’s shoulder, encompassing yourself in his radiating warmth and inhaling his familiar scent of peppermint and lavender. Bob returned to the soothing rocking motion as your body was wracked with shaking sobs in Bob’s arms.

“Shh, my love. It’s okay. You’re safe with me. I’ll never hurt you, ever, darlin’.”

You let out another shaky breath and scrunched up the soft blanket that was lying underneath you with your quivering hands. Bob had ensured the tone and environment was calm and safe for you tonight. There was a velvety soft blanket underneath your naked body, one that you could wrap around your arms or stomach when you felt vulnerable underneath Bob.

Candles were lit in your shared bedroom, emitting low lighting and smells that flooded your nostrils and relaxed you into your plush mattress. A playlist you both conjured up was playing quietly in the corner. Music you could draw your attention back to and focus on if you felt your mind start to drift back to memories more sinister. The duvet and pillows were covered in fresh linen that smelt like your sweet Bobby.

Bob carefully ghosted his fingertips over yours as they held tightly onto the blanket. He took your hands in his and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“Keep your eyes on me if you can, sweetheart. Remember, I’m going to tell you everything I’m doing. You can use your safe word at any time, even now if you wanted to.”

You gave him a small nod and Bob gave your hands another light squeeze.

“Words, my love. I need to know.”

It was part of your agreement. The agreement and conversation you had sometime after that night when you told Bob everything. You wanted to have sex with your Bobby again, more than anything, but you knew it would take some coaxing from yourself. So you both agreed on what you needed to feel safe again, to feel loved again. Communication and Bob hearing you say “yes” or “no” was part of it.

“Yes, baby. I hear you. Thank you.”

“Good girl.”

You could feel a small flurry of butterflies work through your stomach at Bob’s sweet praise. You’d missed him dearly and you were excited at the prospect of making love to him again.

Bob’s hands still held onto yours and you could feel his familiar warmth radiate through your own fingertips. Bob brought your hands up to his chest and placed your hands on his own chest. Bob hovered over you and you could feel his heartbeat thrumming away rhythmically underneath his rib cage.

You took a deep breath. You allowed your breathing to flow and match up to Bob’s.

Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. All you could feel was Bob’s steady and reassuring heartbeat and his comforting warmth.

You were home and you were safe.

[girltigerclaw]

breaking into ur house rn

top ten characters and bottom ten. reasons are optional

I just finished this chart thing i think i actually stole from your blog a few months ago <3 Slightly edited to my own prefs.

If anyone wants the template check the reblogs, and feel free to add you own. I'd love to see. I'm just rambling under here:

Leafpool: She is more special and sacred than the virgin mary. She has everything. Daughter of the first protagonist, ex boyfriend for me to hate, TONS of wlw situationships<3, a lifetime of tragedy, and some of the most gorgeous canon art to exist.

Crookedstar: Crookedstar is a trans woman to me. Her life is genuinely just so tragic and fucked, I love it. The erins asked: “How much truama, death and misfortune can you fit into a single cat?” and then they wrote Crookedstar’s promise.

Tawnypelt: GIRLS WHO HATE THEIR FATHERS. The erins dont love her like I do.

Tallstar: I love old men… I fucking love seeing older characters and how much they’ve changed from their younger selves. Tallstar is considered one of, if not the most peaceful leader in the clans. But also when he was like 19 he went on a quest to fucking murder a guy :3

Cloudstar: I rlly do not care abt anyone in Skyclan(I like Leafstar but she's not a fav yknow?) Cloudstar... he was based as fuck. Why did Starclan get away with this shit for real??

Scourge: It’s fucking Scourge. He’s awesome

Briarlight: I’m disabled and I love her. She has such a consistent fun, sweet personality and she makes me happy!!<3

RavenBarley: It deserves all the attention and hype it gets. Though I wish mlm ships didn’t overshadow wlw ones in this fandom, RavenBarley is genuinely well written and makes me very emotional even if the publisher didnt allow it to be explicitly canon.

CrookedBlue: TRANS WOMEN CROOKEDSTAR YURI. Two leaders having a forbidden relationship and kits is way more interesting than Oakheart. The angst of Crooked and Blue sitting next to eachother every gathering while the entire forest has their eyes on them. Don’t look for too long, don’t let the mourning slip into your voice. You have to pretend your lover is a stranger. You… have become strangers. You can never be together again. You're enemies now. This is what we wanted, isn’t it? …We’ll never be happy again.

Mothwing: Her novella delving into her relationship with Hawkfrost was so good and heartbreaking.

Heathertail: Daughter of leader, sister of a major villian, and former love interest of a protagonist! Why did she fall off the second po3 ended. She’s shown to be very compassionate and willing to put her own feelings aside for the sake of others. Would’ve honestly prefered her as a mate to Lionblaze or get a pov herself over the nothing we got.

Blackstar: *Murders an elderly woman trying to stop me from kidnapping children. Supports a dictator openly abusing/neglecting children and the elderly. Murders a man for refusing to kill mixed raced children- then tells said man’s sister that she will never be safe.* Man…. i sure do feel bad for abusing and killing all of those people…. Good thing I will face no consequences and proceed to be made leader, where I will have even more power over the wellbeing of others.

I hate. This guy.

The New Prophecy: A classic. My first series was actually tnp! i feel more attached to first arc cats tho, if you couldn't already tell by my list lmao

Johanna Map- Best Tawnypelt content out there

BlueQuince: My personal handcrafted, homemade Yuri. Bluefur feels terrible about Tiny going missing and promises Quince she’ll help her find him. They never did, but they had a very… fleeting but intimate relationship. Quince is grieving and Bluefur feels so overwhelmed by the duties in her clan. They’ve always thought of eachother since but never met again.

Tigerclaw: My name sake<3 The angst of his earlier life is so, so facinating to me. Starclan being straight fucked up and decided killing him is their only option? He was a kid and they saw him as a lost cause from the start. They never tried any other methods, never tried to steer him in the right direction or… even just take it into their own hands and kill him themself, which they have SHOWN they’re capable of.

They watched all the the horrific crimes he commited, entirely aware they were going to happen. Thats. Fucking. Horrifying. Starclan is scary as shit… and his death? FANTASTIC. I only wish he’d gotten lives from cats he killed so that him coming back to life to suffer over and over was an actual curse from Starclan and not blessings. They knew how he would die and they gave him the lives to torture him for his sins…

Flywhisker: Adhd girlies. Painfully relate to that feeling of the constant scolding for never being “good enough” because I prefer to do things a certain way or struggle to focus. So, SO happy for her when she left the clans! You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone! Hope she’s happy and warm indoors with her brother💕

(P.S. I was very suprised to find she actually had an official art piece!)

Bluestar: Get behind me women with mental disorders. I will defend you. Beautifully complex and tragic character, my favorite written in the series. Literally can't think of a single other female character in handled as seriously and with the complexity of Bluestar. (Although her super edition was a bit of an L with how others treated her, it ultimately makes her breakdown even more painful.)

Exile from Shaodwclan: Nightstar my beloved! He's such a great guy. The rightful leader of Shadowclan, always and forever.

Ravenpaw's Farewell: HE DIED IN BARLEY'S ARMS, TELLING HIM HE WILL FIND HIM, NO MATTER WHERE HE IS. FUCK.

Crookedstar art: So beautiful. I genuinely think she's one of the prettiest cats in the series. This along with her official art by Wayne Mcloughlin.

Leopardstar: As a kid I hated her and loved Blackfoot, now I hate Blackfoot and love her. #feminism. But seriously I think she has way more going for her than he ever has. Her father is a medicine cat who hates violence, the DRASTIC change in Riverclan's view of outsiders upon Crookedstar's death and her leadership. Her already having a position of power before proving she's unworthy of it. (Unlike Blackstar who gets rewarded for his racism and violence by being made leader afterwards) and the fact she has to interact with her victims on a daily basis after what she did.

The writings attempts to redeem her are really lame and dismissive of the actually damage she did, but at the very least they TRIED to do something else with her. Personally, I would have loved to see her assassinated by Mistyfoot. Just like her mother Bluestar was almost killed all those moons ago by Tigerclaw... The parallels of violence for power and violence for peace. A victim repeating the actions of the very man who killed her brother to put an end to what he started in Riverclan.... A shadow in Riverclan, if you will. (<-Pretending erin hunter has hired me to rewrite their series)

Windclan: Tunneling as a concept and inviting outsiders into their clan so friendly and casual makes the clan seems so much more diverse than the others. It always stuck out to me!

Andddd there are my current warrior cat options as of 2023! If someone actually read this whole ramble ily<3

[weirdkpopgirl]

My First | Renjun Fic #2

Title: My First

Genre: high school au, angst

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, divorce, abusive parent. please don't read if any of these topics make you uncomfortable

Word Count: ~13k

Author's Note: I originally posted this book on wattpad, but not many people read it. So I decided to consolidate the book into a full-length fic to post here on tumblr and my nct dream book on wattpad. I wrote this story years ago, inspired by a brief crush I had in high school. I really hope you guys like this story ^ ^

P.S. there may or may not be a sequel to this 😅

*song mentioned is Sorry Heart by NCT Dream*

𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪

A small high school reunion was underway, hosted by Lee Haechan at a fried chicken restaurant he had opened some time ago. Even amidst his hectic commitments, Rejun made sure with his managers that his schedule would be done by the evening. After all, he couldn’t miss this occasion. Not when this was his chance to see her again.

He discreetly entered the restaurant, donning a mask and a black cap to maintain his anonymity until he had fully entered the premises.

Suddenly, he heard the voice of his old friend exclaim, “There he is! The global K-pop sensation!” 

Renjun chuckled bashfully as a wave of applause and cheers echoed Haechan's proclamation. Taking a seat, he scanned the room, searching for a familiar face among his former classmates.

“She should be here soon,” Haechan whispered, his hand resting on Renjun’s shoulder as a glass of soju was poured for him. Renjun nodded and allowed himself to unwind for the time being.

After a few drinks, the restaurant's front doors chimed, and Renjun swiftly turned his head to witness the entrance of two individuals. And there she stood, nearly everything about her appearance was the same since high school. Her hair remained long, now adorned with a reddish hue. The melancholy that once clouded her eyes was replaced with a sparkle he never saw in her before. The smile he loved so much hadn’t changed at all. Yet, he knew that smile on her face wasn’t because of him. But it was because of the man whose gentle hand rested on her back. 

Renjun couldn't deny that the sight caused a subtle ache within him, breaking his heart a little. He guessed he deserved this feeling though. Especially considering he was the one who had broken hers in the first place.

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She remembered the first time she laid eyes on him, a memory that stood apart from his initial introduction as a transfer student from Jilin, China, at the beginning of high school. She had been rather inattentive back then. This was that one moment when she truly noticed him.

In her oblivious state, she hadn't even realized they lived in the same neighborhood until that day. As was her usual routine, she got off the bus, and there he was, standing at the crosswalk.

Initially, she was about to walk straight to her house without a second thought. But her steps halted when she witnessed an elderly lady struggling with several heavy grocery bags. It was evident that the weight was taking a toll on her. Before she could rush to her assistance, the boy beat her to it.

“Halmeoni,” he spoke kindly, offering a warm smile, “Let me help you.”

He gently took the bags from the lady's hands, and the woman chuckled, tenderly pinching his cheek. She observed them strolling down the street, engaged in cheerful small talk. Their smiles were infectious, and she found herself smiling too.

As they completed their short trip across the street and exchanged farewells, he seemed to sense someone's gaze upon him. Before she could react, their eyes met. In that instant, her brain went into a mild panic, and she turned away, hurrying home without looking back.

No, it wasn't as though she had fallen head over heels for him on that day. Such emotions didn't come easily to her, it seemed. She had simply become more aware of his existence. Unfortunately, she had never mustered the courage to strike up a conversation with the boy. Despite attending the same school, she was absorbed in her studies and lacked the confidence to approach him. The art of making friends was something she had never been adept at.

She didn’t bother to say anything to him in school and she didn’t expect him to either. But for some reason, knowing that bothered her. She couldn't quite explain the feeling. After all, she didn't know him beyond that one act of kindness, even though she was sure it wasn't his first.

Little did she realize that this encounter had only marked the beginning of their story.

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She remembered the next day when he stepped into their homeroom. Their eyes met once more, a scene that could have been plucked from a cliché K-drama. For precisely three seconds, she maintained eye contact with him before her gaze dropped to her desk.

That was the day she finally recalled his name when the teacher called for attendance – Huang Renjun. If not for his introduction, she might have not realized he was Chinese. Partially because she had initially believed his last name to be Hwang. His Korean proficiency further blurred the lines, matching her own.

Each time Renjun spoke in class, she couldn't help but be impressed by his fluency. A classmate mentioned that he had taken Korean as an elective at his previous school.

Nonetheless, she didn't engage in much conversation with him in the early days of the school year, despite the fact that they shared a classroom nearly every day, with their desks not being too distant from each other. Their circles of friends were also closely-knit. Besides the few friends she had made at school, she rarely ventured to talk to anyone else.

However, she found herself unable to cease her contemplation of him. Occasionally, her gaze would stray from her textbook, and she'd spot the dark brown-haired boy a few desks ahead. A slight lean to the left allowed her to observe him diligently taking notes during the teacher's lectures.

Before Renjun, she had never really paid attention to boys. To this day, she remained uncertain about what exactly drew her to him. Perhaps it was his refined facial features, their shared artistic inclinations, or the way he displayed irritation and endearing cuteness when angered. It might have been the enchanting hums he produced while listening to songs from his playlist on their bus rides home.

Some might have labeled her an obsessive stalker, but anyone would have noticed the same subtle details if they had taken a second to observe him. Living in the same neighborhood and attending the same school merely facilitated this connection.

Renjun and she were so close, yet so far away at the same time.

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She remembered their first real encounter quite fondly. It occurred close to the second month of school when one of her friends attempted to persuade her into joining their study group.

“You should join us, (Y/n),” her friend said, trying to convince her for the nth time.

She nervously bit her lip and hesitated, “I don't know…”

Her study habits usually involved solitary efforts or the occasional study session with a single companion. The idea of meeting up with a group of unfamiliar faces didn't particularly appeal to her.

Furthermore, her friend mentioned that part of the reason for forming this study group was to create opportunities for getting closer to some of the cute and popular guys in their homeroom. She couldn't shake the feeling that they wouldn't be doing much actual studying.

“Can you at least come to one meeting?” her friend implored, holding up a single finger. “That's all I'm asking for!”

Reluctantly, she ended up agreeing because she didn’t want to disappoint her friend. After all, she knew that friend would never lead her into doing something crazy. Thus, she arrived at the cafe with the intention of sitting at the end of the table, where she could quietly focus on her studies and avoid interaction with the rest of the group as much as possible.

As much as she had hesitated about attending, she had always been an early bird when it came to events like this. Tardiness had always been one of her pet peeves. Little did she anticipate being one of the first to arrive.

To her luck, the one other person already present was him.

Her body froze as she entered the moment she saw Renjun seated at the empty table with his books spread out before him. He wore a light orange hoodie and round-shaped glasses. Her eyes shifted to the white sweatshirt she was wearing, and she habitually adjusted her own glasses, no longer self-conscious about dressing casually.

Noticing that he wasn't by himself anymore, Renjun's eyes met hers once more. It felt reminiscent of a few weeks ago, but she couldn't tell if he recognized her. Unlike the last time, she managed to resist the impulse to run away when he spoke first.

“Are you here for the study group too?” he inquired.

For some inexplicable reason, words failed to escape her lips, so she simply nodded in response.

Renjun’s smile put her at ease, “That's a relief. I was beginning to worry that I was pranked into coming here alone.”

“Oh, I see…” She awkwardly averted her gaze, focusing on her shoes, unable to maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds.

He gestured to the chair beside him, “Um— you can sit here if you want.”

Taking a deep breath, she composed herself before taking a seat. She did her best to collect her thoughts and not appear foolish.

“Thank you,” she murmured as she set her bag down.

Swiftly, she retrieved her homework, diverting her attention from the boy next to her. However, as she did so, her gaze accidentally met him once again. His smile was far warmer than she had imagined it to be.

"You're Kim (Y/n), right?"

“You know me?” The surprise must have been evident on her face because Renjun regarded her as if she had asked an obvious question.

“Of course. We’re in the same class, and I've seen you in my neighborhood a few times,” he explained. “How would I not know you?”

It dawned on her that she wasn't the only one who had noticed those coincidences that connected them. He had been aware of her existence all along. There was no reason for her to have felt invisible. Why had she entertained such thoughts before?

“Oh, right,” her eyes dropped to her homework in embarrassment.

Renjun chuckled and tapped his pencil on her notebook, “Did you understand the math homework?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she replied as she skimmed over the math problems they had to solve.

Math wasn't her strongest subject, but it wasn't her weakest either. The same could be said for her other classes. She excelled in any class related to the fine arts.

“I'm not sure when the others are going to get here,” Renjun remarked, “So do you want to work on this and check our answers together?”

“Oh— sure,” she said, picking up her pencil, relieved to finally engage in productive work. She had been worried that attending this gathering would be a waste of study time. 

However, she and Renjun were both diligent students, sharing the same goal of completing their work as efficiently as possible.

Working together in a tranquil atmosphere, she started to relax. But, eventually, their friends began to arrive.

“Oh, you guys are here already!” the friend who had invited her exclaimed. She sighed, a tad disappointed that everyone was here now. Still, she concealed her frustration with a smile and waved at her friend.

The study group unfolded precisely as she had expected, with little actual studying being accomplished. Most of the group members engaged in chatter and jokes. Renjun and she, on the other hand, remained seated at the corner of the table, quietly working on their homework and occasionally helping each other if they encountered difficulties.

After about two hours, everyone started to disperse. It was already dark outside as she stepped out. Since they were both headed in the same direction, Renjun suggested they take the bus together. He gave the excuse that it would be dangerous for her to go home alone.

With rosy cheeks, she glanced down at her shoes and allowed him to accompany her to the bus stop. His actions reinforced her initial impression of Renjun as a kindhearted person.

Upon boarding the bus, few words were exchanged. Yet, the silence between them didn't feel as awkward as it had earlier. She gazed out of the bus window, watching as cars and buildings passed by. Occasionally, she noticed him stealing glances in her direction from the corner of her eye, and she hesitantly turned around once, only for him to quickly avert his gaze. Perhaps her initial interpretation had been mere wishful thinking.

Her attention returned to the window, and she couldn't help but smile, reflecting on the subtle shade of red that colored his cheeks. It was undeniably cute.

As they disembarked from the bus, Renjun scratched his head and avoided her gaze.

"I guess I'll see you at school on Monday?"

She slowly nodded, "Yeah."

"I guess I'll get going then."

Before she could watch him leave, she suddenly called out, “Wait!”

When he turned back to look at her, she smiled bashfully, “It was nice to meet you, Huang Renjun.” In return, he offered a smile just as warm as the first time.

“Same to you, Kim (Y/n).”

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She remembered the change when she returned to school on Monday. Upon entering the classroom, Renjun warmly waved at her, and she shyly waved back before taking her seat. It felt peculiar to have someone other than Soojin greet her with such enthusiasm.

After their last class of the day, Renjun approached her desk with hesitation, inquiring whether she'd be interested in studying together more often. He mentioned that they got along well and he felt more comfortable studying with her rather than with the group from the previous day. The fact that Huang Renjun, whom she had never interacted with before, was extending this invitation felt unfamiliar.

“There's a library near the school where we can go,” he mumbled nervously, his confidence waning with each word.

In retrospect, she realized she should have declined at that moment, perhaps questioning why he wanted to spend time with her of all people. Turning him down then might have shielded her from the tangled web she was about to weave.

However, she couldn't resist a shy smile and accepted his invitation. Her rationale was that she preferred studying with one person over a large group, but also because she saw an opportunity to get to know the intriguing boy who had captured her curiosity.

Her hopes were met, as they began meeting at the library once a week to do homework or prepare for exams. Once a week quickly escalated to twice a week, and soon, they were seeing each other nearly every weekend.

Through those encounters, she learned quite a bit about Renjun, and she believed he was also getting to know her, to some extent. It would be a while before he truly understood her.

“Hey (Y/n),” he said one day, his tone laced with concern. “You're not usually this quiet. Are you okay?”

Lifting her head from her laptop, she met his worried expression, the first time she noticed how his chocolate brown eyes sparkled when the light hit just right. His soft gaze made her want to answer honestly, but she had grown accustomed to concealing her true feelings, even from herself. So, she responded with the same excuse she used whenever her friend posed that question.

“Oh, I'm... I'm just tired, that's all! I'm fine.”

He nodded and returned to his work without further inquiry, though she could sense his desire to probe deeper. Several such instances occurred between them, but she always held back, no matter how much she longed to reveal her true thoughts.

At times, she found herself wishing they hadn't crossed paths from the beginning.

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She remembered returning home each day, where her school life came to a pause and her personal life resumed. Upon entering through the front door, she was met by a towering stack of boxes and several others that crowded one end of the sofa. To any guest, it would appear as though they were in the middle of moving. However, they weren't. At least not at the time.

Ironically, despite her typically organized and minimalist lifestyle, she was no longer fazed by the clutter. Kicking off her well-worn sneakers and placing them on the shoe tray, she hung up her jacket and felt a wave of relief as she discarded her bag.

She picked up her bag once more, intending to carry it upstairs to her room. Just as she reached the top of the stairs, a voice interrupted her.

“Kim (Y/n). You don't even say hi to your mother?”

She held back from scoffing as her mother walked past her. Shaking her head, she continued to ignore her, as was her usual practice, and pushed open the door to her room. Her bag fell to the floor in the corner by her desk.

There was nothing particularly noteworthy about her room. She owned only the essentials: a bed, a dresser, an alarm clock, and a desk. However, it was the only place where the real her was revealed, not the persona she presented to the world, nor the facade of strength she wore despite being the weakest person she knew.

Taking a seat in front of her desk on the swivel chair, she sighed. Slowly, her hand reached for her sleeve and began rolling it up, revealing scars that had yet to fully heal. Ugly slashes of red and pink extended from her upper arm and stopped halfway at her forearm.

Laughing to herself, she clenched her fists. These scars served as a reminder of her brokenness.

Even someone like Huang Renjun couldn't rescue her from herself.

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She remembered the day after school when she was listening to music while waiting for the bus. As she scrolled through her saved albums, a message notification unexpectedly appeared.

Mom: (Y/n), I've started applying for job opportunities, but I'll also be receiving financial support from your father before leaving him. If you move in with me, you can have your own room and everything

After reading the message once, she took a deep breath and swiped it away. Gently inserting her earbuds into her ears, she turned up the volume on her phone, allowing the current song to engulf her ears, if only for a few minutes, to temporarily forget everything. However, her solitude was soon disrupted by someone taking a seat next to her at the bus stop. She immediately recognized him as Renjun.

“What are you listening to?” he asked.

She removed one earbud and handed it to him, inviting him to listen along with her. He smiled and plugged the earbud into his left ear.

“Oh, I know this song.” His eyes lit up as he began to sing along. The current track playing was “Don’t Go” by EXO. 

While he sang, she stared at him in a daze. “I didn't know you could sing,” she mumbled when the song ended.

Blushing, he cast his eyes downward. “I used to dream of becoming a singer like Rain or someone.”

“Do you not want to be a singer anymore?”

With some hesitation, he responded, “Entering the entertainment field is risky. The chances of someone like me getting in and achieving success are quite low.”

Before she could offer a proper reply, the bus arrived, momentarily interrupting their conversation. As they took their seats, Renjun began recommending songs and other artists she should explore. Nevertheless, her thoughts kept returning to what he had said earlier. She understood why he held those reservations. Someone as cautious as herself couldn't disagree.

That summer, she and Renjun spent a lot of time together. There were no formal plans or scheduled meetups; their interactions occurred naturally. If she was in one place, he would show up, and vice versa. In their moments alone, he would sing a few songs when she asked.

Unbeknownst to her, she found herself captivated by his voice. It was so clear and pleasant to the ear. She struggled to comprehend why he had abandoned his dream of becoming a singer, as it was evident that singing brought him immense joy.

“Your voice is so beautiful,” she mustered the courage to tell him one day. “I think if you debuted as a k-pop idol, you'd definitely make it.”

He looked up and smiled at her. “Thank you for saying that. But I believe it's wiser for me to attend university and secure a well-paying job.”

“You want to be just like everyone else?" she asked, wondering in the back of her mind if her question sounded too critical.

Renjun sighed, “It's a naive dream that's long behind me now. It doesn't matter anymore.”

Her lips formed a frown at his words, but she refrained from further comment. At the time, he seemed resolute in his choices. She had even thought to herself that perhaps it was for the best. If he had become a famous singer, he might have forgotten all about her.

Little did she know then how their lives would ultimately unfold, marked by contradictions.

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She remembered the last weekend before school was set to begin again. It was the first time she had been invited to his house, as his parents were away on a short trip to China, and he sought company. The idea of being alone with him at his place was intimidating, so she was relieved to find that he had also invited another friend to join them.

“Ugh, thank goodness you're here,” Renjun sighed in relief as he opened the door for her. “Haechan and I were arguing over which movie to watch.”

Trying to stifle a smile, she rolled her eyes as she closed her umbrella and removed her wet shoes. She often found it amusing how Renjun and Haechan could switch from arguing to being the best of friends in the blink of an eye.

“(Y/n), back me up here!” Haechan implored when he saw her enter the room. “On a rainy day like this, we have to watch a horror movie.”

She had known Lee Haechan since kindergarten, and even then, he was quite popular among the kids due to his outgoing personality. However, she hadn't interacted much with him until Renjun befriended her. Haechan started tagging along when they hung out, not wanting to be left out.

Despite Haechan's love for provoking Renjun, he was much kinder to her. He would often try to get her to defend him when he got Renjun angry. Naturally, the three of them ended up spending more time together than with their regular friend group.

“It's my house!” Renjun complained. “And I don't want to watch a horror movie.”

Haechan flashed a teasing glint in his eyes. “Oh. You're probably too scared to watch one.”

“I never said that I was scared,” Renjun turned to her. “Let’s just have (Y/n) choose the movie.”

Her cheeks warmed from the sudden attention. Their arguments typically ended with her being the one to make the final decision. So, she suggested a compromise: they could watch one horror movie and one of Renjun's choices. The boys looked at each other and had a moment of realization.

She had to admit it was quite amusing to watch Renjun and Haechan scream at the scary parts and laugh in embarrassment during the second movie. The two of them got into a spat when Haechan spilled popcorn on Renjun, leading to more bickering that she had to mediate. Sometimes she wondered if they were really in high school.

By the time they finished both movies, they noticed the storm hadn't shown any signs of letting up. Renjun suggested that they sleep over for the night, deeming it too risky to venture out in the rain.

Haechan eventually dozed off, leaving Renjun and her as the only ones still awake. They sat on the floor in front of the sofa, contemplating what to do. After a few awkward silences, Renjun cleared his throat.

“Do you want to see some of my old pictures?” she nodded eagerly in response.

He got up and retrieved a light brown photo album, which took her by surprise as she hadn't expected him to have so many pictures. They sat closer together, and he began to show her the photos.

“These are my parents,” Renjun gestured to the image in the top left corner. “And that's my grandfather over there.”

She beamed when she noticed a school photo of a younger Renjun on the next page. Glancing up at him, she commented, “I didn't know you had a snaggletooth.”

“Oh, yeah, I did,” Renjun shyly rubbed the back of his neck.

He pointed to his current smile, showing her his perfectly straight teeth. “But I have lingual braces now, so it's not there anymore.”

“But why? You looked so cute!" she said, saving herself from admitting she found him cute no matter what.

He sighed, “Only you would say that. If Haechan saw this, I wouldn't hear the end of it.”

They continued to browse through the photos, and she paused at one page, her thumb resting on a polaroid at the bottom right. A younger Renjun sat on a bench, with a girl beside him.

"Who is this?" she asked in a softer tone, without realizing it.

Renjun gazed at the photograph with a hint of hesitation. Without uttering a word, she could tell that a whirlwind of emotions and memories had unintentionally resurfaced.

“She was my first love back in my hometown,” Renjun sighed. “Our parents were good friends, so we knew each other from a young age.”

“We only dated for a year. But back then, I used to think nothing could ever separate us.” He wore a nostalgic smile that quickly faded. Evidently, his youthful hopes hadn't materialized as he had wished.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” she asked cautiously. Renjun paused and briefly looked at her.

“My dad got a new job here in Seoul, so we moved in the middle of tenth grade,” he explained. “I promised her... I promised her that we could still be together, that we could make it work.”

She could see the regret and sorrow pooling in his eyes. “But the last time we talked, she told me she couldn't handle a long-distance relationship. So she broke up with me.”

That final sentence felt both empty and painful. She couldn't fathom how much he must have suffered. Neither of them spoke for a while, until she mustered the courage to ask how he coped with it all.

“To be honest, it was tough in the beginning,” Renjun admitted. “But recently, I haven't been thinking about her as much.”

She shouldn't have allowed herself to feel hope upon hearing those words. “Have you moved on since then?”

“It still hurts from time to time,” he spoke honestly. “I cared about her a lot.”

“That's understandable,” she whispered. “Do you think you'll ever get over her?”

She tried to read his eyes when he looked back at her, but it was impossible. Instead, he shrugged. “I want to, but I'm not sure if I can.”

From that moment on, she should have given up, knowing that she never had a chance to begin with.

Maybe then, she could have prevented all the heartbreak she had set herself up for.

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She remembered that one morning when she was getting ready for school. As she went to leave her things near the door, she heard her mother's footsteps emerging from the kitchen. Her mother's hair was disheveled, and she had gained weight from all the delivery food she had been eating. She couldn't remember the last time her mother had cooked.

“(Y/n),” her mother reached for her, but she instinctively backed away. The desperation on her mother's face quickly shifted to irritation.

“I'm your mother, I gave birth to you. Is this how you treat me?”

“Eomma—”

But her mother continued, “How awful it is that you've turned out to be just like your abusive father. I can't believe he's brainwashed you.”

Anyone else listening might have thought she was a madwoman. Her mother had become a stranger to her.

“Appa has not abused you. No one is abusing you,” she tried to maintain her patience. “Eomma, you need help. You're not—”

“SHUT UP!” Her mother screamed, causing her to flinch. “You don't know what you're talking about. How dare you disrespect me?”

The heat of anger flushed her face. She yearned to scream back at her mother and tell her to stop, but she knew it would only add fuel to the fire. It wasn't worth it.

Before her mother walked away, she said something that she had been hearing frequently lately. “You know what? Sometimes I wish I wasn't your mother.”

Her fingers curled into fists. Her mom was always adept at being manipulative. As a teenager, she did her best to take her mother's insults maturely. But when someone you love hurls those words at you every day, it slowly chips away at you.

All she could see was red after that argument. She remembered searching for her razor blade and making multiple slashes across her arm when she found it. She didn't care about the stinging pain of the cuts or the fresh, warm blood trickling down her arm. Her thoughts were clouded with fury. She was furious at her mother for behaving like a child and at her father for allowing it to happen. She was furious at herself for not being able to do anything. Every night, she was kept awake by her mother's shouting, harassing her father for no apparent reason.

Trembling with anger, she walked to school. All the pent-up pain and bitterness were bubbling to the surface. She had tried so hard to be strong for her father and everyone else, believing she could handle everything on her own.

By the time she arrived at class that day, she could barely hold herself together. She kept her head down to conceal the evidence of her tears. She took her seat at her desk and tried to regain her composure, determined not to let anyone see the real her, the one filled with bitterness and misery.

“Morning, (Y/n),” she heard his voice calling out to her. Renjun's desk was near the front, by the window, while hers was closer to the back. However, every morning, he would come over to discuss after-school plans or homework.

She hastily wiped away any tears and looked up, forcing a smile to hide her inner turmoil. By eleventh grade, they had become closer since the previous school year. She should have known that Renjun would see right through her. It took just one look for him to sense that something was amiss.

“Something's up. What's wrong?”

Renjun glanced down at her wrist, and she almost gasped when she noticed blood seeping through her uniform sleeve. Blinded by rage, she must have unintentionally cut herself deeper this time.

“(Y/n), what—” He reached for her arm before she could stop him. He paused before gently pulling up her sleeve, revealing the fresh cuts from that morning.

Renjun opened his mouth to say something but remembered they were in a classroom setting. He looked back at her, seeing that all color had drained from her face and her lip began to quiver.

“Come on,” he prompted her, leading her out of the classroom. 

“Renjun, where are you taking me?”

“To the nurse's office. Now.”

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She remembered him pulling her into the nurse's office. Despite her protests and attempts to stop walking, he paid no attention and continued. When they arrived, Renjun had her sit down on one of the treatment beds while he retrieved the first aid kit.

As he lifted the rest of her sleeve, she found herself holding her breath. She said nothing as Renjun cleaned and bandaged her wounds, her gaze dropping to her arm. What was once fair in color and smooth was now marred by hideous scars. Most of them were faded white, while some were still pink. The new red marks stood out the most.

Numerous times, Renjun tried to catch her gaze. She could tell he wanted to know what she was thinking. After applying the last bandage and closing the first aid kit, she forced herself to meet his woeful eyes.

“(Y/n)...” He began, uncertainty in his voice. “Whatever you're going through that makes you hurt yourself like this, you can tell me.”

They locked eyes for a brief moment, and she knew she was about to share everything she had been holding back. She loathed showing vulnerability in front of those she cared about. It filled her with a strong sense of self-hatred.

“I... I can't,” she practically whispered.

Renjun was stubborn and wouldn't give up. He placed his hand on hers, gently squeezing it. “You can trust me, I promise.”

She stared at him for a moment before her facade, maintained for months, crumbled. Slowly, she began to confide in Renjun. She told him about her mother's drug problem and how it had nearly bankrupted their family. She spoke of the sleepless nights listening to her mother hurl insults at her father. It was the first time she had shared the news of her parents’ decision to end their disastrous marriage. Finally, she told him about the argument with her mother that morning and the hurtful things her mother had said to her. 

“How could a mother say those things to her daughter?” Her voice wavered as she continued, “When I've spent my whole life trying to...hoping for her to love me.”

She waited for Renjun to say something. But he caught her off guard when he reached over and enveloped her in a tight hug. He patted her back gently and assured her that she had every right to be upset.

“Your mom must be crazy not to see how amazing you are,” he said, using his thumb to wipe away her tears. “I'm sorry she said those things to you. You didn't deserve that.”

She sniffed and shook her head. “I don't know why there's still some part of me that expects something from her.”

"It's because you love her and want her to be healthy," Renjun responded.

She lowered her head and admitted, "I guess you're right..."

There was a brief silence between them. Renjun frowned, glancing around the room before standing up. He looked down at her with a mischievous smile.

“Let's get out of here,” he suggested, nodding toward the door.

Her torn expression shifted to a confused one. “Right now? But we have class.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just say you felt sick, and I offered to take you home.”

“So you’re suggesting we skip school?”

“I mean yeah, why not?” Renjun shrugged. “It’s not like they’re going to suspect anything bad from top students like us.”

Her eyebrows lifted in uncertainty. She never thought she would ever hear Huang Renjun suggesting skipping class. She had never in her life done such a thing.

Tired of waiting, he took her hand and pulled her up. “You should go have fun on a day like this. To clear your mind.”

She could feel her heart beating faster when he held her hand. Slightly flustered by the situation, she just nodded and followed him to sneak out of the school grounds. They got on a bus and sat in the back rows. She didn’t bother asking Renjun where they were going. Her mind was still stuck on the fact that she had practically spilled her heart out to the boy next to her. She regretted telling him so much in her emotional state. But he didn’t appear to think any less of her.

Renjun ended up taking her to a small arcade filled with game machines, prizes, and neon lights. “Haechan talks about this place a lot. It’s my first time here, though.”

She chuckled, “He’s going to kill you when he finds out you came here without him.”

“I know,” Renjun said and took her hand again. “Come on, let’s go buy some tokens.”

They played all sorts of games that day, such as racing and shooting ones. She thought she would be bad at the basketball game, but it turned out Renjun was worse than her. She laughed when he got pouty for not being able to score many baskets.

“Oh, over there!” She pointed out. “I’ve always wanted to go to a photobooth with friends.”

Renjun smiled at her sudden excitement. “Let’s go do it, then.”

The two of them went in and paid the machine to take some pictures. In a hurry before the camera started rolling, they picked out accessories for each other. She hoped Renjun didn’t notice the shade of pink on her cheeks as he set a white headband with cat ears on her head. On the other hand, she chose a pair of large daisy-themed sunglasses for him.

Renjun convinced her to try doing different poses. By the time the camera clicked for the last time, both of them were caught up in laughter. To her surprise, the photos came out well. In the last one, she saw Renjun smiling down at her, and she had her hands shaped as a heart. Anyone would have mistaken them for a couple.

She thought they would be done once they were finished with the arcade. But by the time they left, it was late afternoon. She hadn’t even realized the time went by. By then, the school day was already over. She said that they should just go back home now. Renjun looked at her with a slightly worried expression.

“Why don’t we get some ice cream first?” He pointed toward the frozen treat shop across the street. Reluctantly, she agreed and let him lead them to the place.

After getting their ice cream, they sat at one of the two-person tables outside. Subconsciously, she quietly observed him as he ate his green tea flavored ice cream. Why was her heart continuing to beat faster whenever she was around him?

“You should eat yours before it melts,” Renjun pointed out.

She was snapped out of her thoughts and glanced down at the mint-chocolate ice cream cone in her hand. Laughing nervously, she quickly took a small bite. “Oh right.”

Renjun chuckled and picked up the napkin near him. “You have some on your lips.”

Absent-mindedly, he reached over the table to wipe off the remaining cream off her mouth. Her eyes widened when she noticed how close their faces were. When Renjun saw the blush on her face, he coughed and sat back down in his seat.

Once the heat in her cheeks lessened, she took the chance to speak again. “I didn’t get the chance to thank you for today. I’m…I’m sorry about this morning.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Renjun shook his head. “I just—if you ever feel like hurting yourself again…”

He made eye contact with her when he said this, “Come to me, okay? Don’t feel like you have to carry all the burdens on your own.”

When she didn’t say anything, he placed a hand on top of hers. It was the third time he did that today. “I’ll always be here for you, (Y/n)-yah.”

How she wished that she hadn’t taken those words to heart.

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She remembered Haechan narrowing his eyes at her as they waited for Renjun at the library. He seemed as if he was suspecting her of something. She hoped Renjun would come soon to break this weird tension.

“How long are you going to stare at me like that?” She glanced up from her schoolwork.

Ignoring her question, Haechan said, “You and Renjun have been acting strange around each other.”

She laughed incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

“The way you two look at each other is different.” Haechan twirled the pencil in his hands with his fingers. “And you’ve been hanging out a lot. Without me.”

“Haechan, we’re just friends-”

“You like him, don’t you?” Instantly, she froze when he asked. The corner of Haechan’s lips curled upward into a smile.

“I’ll take your silence as a confirmation.”

“How…how did you find out?”

Haechan rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious. “I’ve known you since kindergarten, Kim (Y/n). Never have I seen you look at a boy before Renjunie.”

It was true. She had no interest in boys unlike the other girls in her class at the time. She was always preoccupied with what was going on at home. Not just with boys, she had never made an effort to make many friends. Her mindset at the time was it was better to be alone, so no one could hurt her. Then Huang Renjun came along and changed everything.

She briefly scanned the library to ensure no one was paying them any mind, before leaning closer to the table. But that didn’t stop her from speaking in a hushed tone.

“You can’t tell him, okay?” 

Haechan looked at her quizzically. “You’re not going to confess to him?”

“Why would I? That would be too risky.”

“What’s there to risk?” Her friend tilted his head. “You’re single, he’s single. You like him, and he probably likes you back.”

Shaking her head, “There’s no way he likes me back. I think he’s still stuck on his past relationship.”

“His first love back in China?” Haechan scoffed. “(Y/n), that was so long ago. And you’re here, right in front of him. I think you have a solid chance.”

“It’s not that easy, Haechan. Our whole friendship could be ruined, and I don’t want that to happen.”

The boy frowned at her. “So what? You’re just going to do nothing and watch him go find someone else?”

“Hey, guys! Sorry, I’m late.” A male voice ended their conversation. They looked to see Renjun waving to them and coming to their table.

“What were you guys talking about?” he asked when he sat down.

Before Haechan could answer, she spoke up before him. “We were just talking about the math test tomorrow.”

“Oh right. Let me get out my textbook so we can study.” Renjun reached down for his bag. While doing so, Haechan narrowed his eyes on her again.

He did have a point. She certainly didn’t want to see the boy she liked with someone else. But she was too much of a coward at the time. Confessing to Renjun sounded terrifying just thinking about it. She could never bring herself to do it.

Back then, she should’ve listened to her instincts.

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She remembered frowning at the empty desk in the corner of the room when she entered that morning. For once, there was no Renjun to greet her with his cute smile and wave. That was odd, she thought to herself. He was always in the classroom before her.

When she made her way to her seat, Haechan sat at the desk in front of her. His chin rested in one of his hands as he sulked.

“Our Renjunie is at home with a cold. That’s why he couldn’t come to school today.”

“He caught a cold?” He rarely got sick. But Haechan nodded in confirmation.

“Remember the other day when he forgot to bring an umbrella when it was raining?”

“Oh goodness,” she sighed, worry swirled around her head. “Maybe we should go visit him after school.”

Haechan smiled teasingly and shook his head. “Nah, I don’t want to get in the way of your lovey-dovey moments with him.”

“Lee Haechan!” She lightly pushed his shoulder as he laughed.

“You know, it’s really easy to make you blush? I can only imagine what happens when Renjunie is around.” 

She swore, the boy was purposely pushing all her buttons.

Regardless of Haechan’s teasing, she still went to Renjun’s house after school. She had asked the light-haired boy one more time if he wanted to join her. But he said that he had something else to do. Whatever that was.

Anxiously, she made her way up the front steps of his house with a bag in her hand. The school day was killing her, knowing that Renjun was sick and home alone. She had never so badly for classes to be over.

His mom was there to open the door for her. Even though they had been friends for more than a year, it was her first time meeting Renjun’s mother. Immediately she recognized their similar facial features. “Hello, how can I help you?”

Almost forgetting her words, she straightened up her posture and bowed. “I’m so sorry to bother you. But is Renjun home?”

The woman’s face brightened when she said her son’s name. Clasping her hands together, she smiled at her. “You must be that girl he talks about all the time. It’s so nice to finally meet you!”

Her eyes widened when she heard this. Renjun talked about her? To his parents? Before she could muster up a good response, Mrs. Huang was already ushering her inside the house.

“I’m so glad you came,” She said. “My poor son is sick in bed. But I got called into work right now and his father already left in the morning.”

She slipped off her shoes and gave his mother what she hoped to be a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to worry Mrs. Huang. I came to make sure he was okay, so I can help watch over him for you.”

“Oh, that’s so kind of you. Thank you so much,” She squeezed her hands and tried to get a better look at her. “Truly, I’m grateful that Renjun has a friend like you. He was so sad when we first moved here. But now he’s so much happier.”

She recalled the few times when Renjun told her he felt homesick. In the beginning, he told her a lot about his hometown and his childhood there. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to move to a completely different country.

“It’s nothing, really,” She told his mother. “Your son is a great friend of mine. He…he means a lot to me.”

After hearing his mom’s words, she remembered wanting nothing more than to stay by Renjun’s side. She wanted to be there for him, just like he was to her. Even if he never knew about her feelings, she was okay with that.

Ms. Huang thanked her again before she hurriedly left for work. She told her that he was still in bed and his bedroom was on the left side down the hall.

“Renjun?” She knocked before coming into the room. The walls were painted a pale yellow, and there was a window above his desk. His room was neat and simple, like hers.

Renjun lifted his head to see that she had called his name. “(Y/n), what are you doing here?”

She grimaced when she heard him cough. “Your mom just left. I came to drop off your homework and look after you for a bit.”

“Oh…but what if you get sick?” 

She smiled at his show of concern. “I should be fine. I have a strong immune system,” she insisted.

He didn’t seem to be very convinced. But he reluctantly laid back on his pillow. She set her school bag down on his desk chair.

“There are some things I have to prepare,” She said, going toward the door. “Just rest here, and I’ll be back in a bit okay?”

Renjun was too tired to protest, so he patiently waited for her to come back. It wasn’t like there was anything else he could do.

Moments later, she returned with a tray that carried a steaming hot bowl of porridge and a cup of tea. The sick boy peered up with a curious look in his eyes.

“This is some congee I made. It’s good to eat warm things when you have a cold,” she explained as she carefully placed the tray on his nightstand. Leaving the drink, she picked up the bowl to give to him.

Renjun smiled, but there was slight guilt in his eyes. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“It’s no big deal,” she said. “I made it the other day when my dad got sick. So I just reheated the leftovers that I had.”

“But still…”

Ignoring his nasally mumbles, she took the spoon and firmly put it in his hands. “You need to eat to get your strength back.”

He accepted the utensil sulkily and weakly took a bite of the food she made. She watched quietly as he ate. His face was paler than usual, and his dark hair was damp from his sickness. She hadn’t imagined a sick Renjun would be so cute. But somehow, she was surprised either way.

She stayed with Renjun the rest of the evening. After helping him take some cold medicine, they moved to the living room and watched some k-dramas on her laptop. Some laughter was exchanged at the funny parts. Occasionally, she heard sniffles at the sadder scenes in the movie. She wasn’t sure if it was Renjun’s symptoms or if he was actually crying. Either way, she pretended she didn’t hear him.

“Gosh, you're burning up,” she said when she placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature.

She stood up to get a cold wet towel to help him cool down. Sitting back down at the foot of his bed, she leaned over to gently dab the cloth onto his forehead. She could sense Renjun switching from staring at her to glancing over her shoulder. But she pretended not to notice. After a few minutes, she brought her hand down and asked if he felt any better. But he wouldn’t answer.

“Renjun?” He looked back at her and gestured for her hand. He took it and placed her hand over his chest.

“Why do you keep making me feel like this, (Y/n)?” 

His words meshed into the other. But she was still able to understand what he was saying. She stared at him in surprise, unable to find an appropriate response.

Renjun pressed his other hand over his eyes in distress. “All I’ve been thinking about lately is you. I swear it’s driving me crazy.”

From hearing this, she was certain that this was just the fever talking. She didn’t want to give herself false hope.

“Renjun, you…should rest. I don’t think you know what you’re saying.” She tried to pry her hand out of his.

Instead of letting her go, she felt his grip tighten around her wrist. Before she could say anything, her body was pulled down into a position where Renjun was right beneath her. She wasn’t sure if the sudden heat she felt came from Renjun’s fever or from how flustered she was at the moment.

“Huang Renjun, what are you—” She tried to escape, but he held her in place. He brought her closer to where their faces were merely inches apart. His steady eyes marveled over her red cheeks and eventually moved down to her lips.

But before she could make another attempt to move off of him, he pulled her down so their lips could meet.

Her eyes were wide open when she processed what was happening. He had single-handedly taken her first kiss, and she wasn’t sure how to take it at the time.

Little passion was felt in the kiss. But there was so much yearning and desire. When she let go of any resistance and closed her eyes, she felt herself melting into his touch. This… is something that she wasn’t aware she had wanted. I mean, what girl wouldn’t want to be kissed by the boy she liked?

Before the things could go any further, Renjun released his hands off her neck and fell back. He had dozed off in the next second, leaving her to be baffled by the situation.

She couldn’t recall what happened after. All she could remember was waking up the next morning on Renjun’s couch with a dark blue blanket covering her. Slowly, she sat up and saw Renjun exiting a room.

“Oh, you’re awake!” He looked slightly better than he did the other day, but still a little pale. Self-consciously, she straightened her clothes and patted down her hair as he came to sit beside her.

“Wha-what time is it?” She sat up and reached for her phone to look at the clock. 10:15 am.

Renjun chuckled, “It’s a good thing it’s Saturday.”

Warily, she placed her phone back down on the table in front of them. She looked at the boy beside her for a moment, wondering how to bring up the events that occurred the night before. She must’ve fallen asleep late, overthinking everything. If Renjun kissed her, that had to mean he felt something for her, right? Or were his actions from him being delirious?

“Renjun, about yesterday…” She started.

His eyes lit up, “Oh right. I can’t thank you enough for staying and taking care of me. My mom told me to say thank you to her. She and my dad have already left for work.”

“Oh…it was nothing,” she shook her head. “But I’m talking about when you-”

Renjun leaned back on the couch and sighed, “Ugh I hadn’t been that sick in a long time. Honestly, some of the things from yesterday are hazy to me.”

Her eyes blinked in confusion. “Do…do you not remember what happened last night then?”

The boy furrowed his brows as he tried to think back. Seconds later he snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah. The ice towel you used really helped to bring my fever down. I wanted to thank you for that too.”

So he didn’t remember kissing her. Any hopes she had of Renjun might share the same feelings as she dissolved in an instant. Those optimistic feelings were replaced by perplexity and dismay.

Stupid, foolish girl. She was such an idiot to have such thoughts to begin with.

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She remembered the astounded look on Haechan’s face when she glumly told him about what happened. They had met up at a café later that afternoon. 

“He what?!” The boy across from her nearly jumped out of his chair.

She shot him a nervous glare, “Haechan! Can you please just sit back down?”

“Sorry, let me get this straight.” He thankfully did as she asked. “You were taking care of Renjun, and he kissed you. But he doesn’t remember it?”

She dropped her head and nodded gloomily. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Are you sure he forgot?” Haechan asked.

“I don’t know. If he didn’t, he obviously wants to pretend it never happened,” she said, poking at the straw in her drink. Hearing herself say that only left her feeling more depressed.

Haechan sighed and gave her a look of slight concern. “(Y/n), I really think you should just tell Renjun about your feelings.”

“Haechan…”

“I’m being serious! At this point, you should just go for it,” he sat up in his seat. “What could possibly go wrong other than him saying no?”

She had sworn to herself that she would never confess to Renjun. Even if there was a small chance he might like her in return, she was too scared to risk it. He meant too much to her to lose him because of her selfishness.

“If Renjun rejects me, he’ll feel bad and have a hard time.” Her shoulders faltered. “I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable because of me.”

Haechan crossed his arms, “But that might never happen. Coming from experience, it’s better to just confess your feelings and be done with it. Things might not go the way you want. But you’ll feel better after.”

“Maybe you’re right,” she fumbled with the paper wrapping from her straw.

Haechan smirked, “Of course, I am. I’m always right.”

“Yeah, and what experience do you have?” She questioned, referring to his prior words. In response, he put a finger to his mouth as a motion for her not to comment further.

“Just trust me, okay?”

She dwelled on what Haechan said for a bit. Honestly, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go being around Renjun without her heart exploding. Especially after they kissed. How long was she going to let herself live like this?

So for once and all, she followed Haechan’s advice and chose one day to confess. 

She had to show that she wasn’t a coward and be a little braver for once. It was the most determined she had ever been about something. She was finally going to confront her feelings.

At least she thought she was.

┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦

She remembered it was the beginning of autumn when she asked Renjun to meet her at the park one day. Aside from that, she had been trying to get out of the house more often. Things with her parents were still rocky. Being at school and spending time with friends allowed her to stop thinking about it all for a little while.

But that day was different. When she had finally decided to face her fears and just tell Renjun how she felt. She was beyond nervous, unable to keep her legs from shaking as she waited for him to arrive. She had repeated everything she was going to say numerous times the night before. 

Having never confessed to a boy before, she spent the past few nights searching for tips on what she should do. There was one site that said you should dress up for these occasions. So foolishly, she spent almost an hour picking the right outfit and makeup. She hoped Renjun wouldn’t find her being too obvious.

Before she could chicken out, she saw him walking down the street to see her. He was wearing a smile. She didn’t think about it then. But his smile wasn’t bright like the normal ones he showed her. This one was filled with slight apprehension.

“Hey (Y/n),” He came to her with hands in the pockets of his jacket. “What did you want to do today?”

There was no way for her to back out anymore. “Actually Renjun, there’s something I want to tell you.”

“Oh really? I have something to tell you too,” Renjun scratched the back of his head. She was curious as to what he had to say. For a second she forgot about her plan.

They stared at each other awkwardly until Renjun cleared his throat. “You—you can go first if you want.”

“Oh okay.” Tensely, her grip on the strap of her purse tightened. She told herself that she could do this. It was Renjun, after all. Why did she make this so hard for herself?

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to meet his eyes. “You see, there’s something I’ve been hiding from you.”

Renjun looked at her with slight concern, “Hiding from me? (Y/n), you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m telling you today because I don’t think I can keep it in anymore,” She said. Here goes nothing, she remembered thinking to herself.

“Renjun, I like—”

“Huang Renjun!” She was stopped by an unfamiliar female voice from behind her. As she started to process her failed attempt to confess, she watched a look of astonishment appear on Renjun’s face. 

She turned to see a girl about their age with short light-brown hair, wearing a yellow sweater over a white skirt. She ran over to embrace the boy in front of her.

For a moment, Renjun seemed to be at a loss for words. Then he slowly hugged her back and a name rolled off his tongue. “Xiaomi?”

She held him closer to her. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I—I don’t understand. What are you doing here?” He pulled away. Surprise and bewilderment were still evident in his expression.

Every ounce of glee was pouring from her eyes. “I couldn’t stand us being so far apart. It took me a while, but I convinced my parents to move us here.”

“But…but how?”

“Your father talked with mine and helped him secure a job at the same company,” She replied. “I’ll be going to the same school as you too!”

(Y/n) stood there like a fool. They were speaking in Chinese. But it didn’t take an idiot to understand the situation. She was his first love. The one he told her about. She was here, she had come for him. And (Y/n) was just…there.

Renjun didn’t respond and glanced back at her. Finally, the girl turned to look at her. It turned out that she also knew how to speak Korean. But hers wasn’t nearly as good as Renjun’s.

“Is this a friend of yours?”

Suddenly snapping out of his daze, “Y-yeah. This is Kim (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Xu Xiaomi.”

Swallowing this whole new feeling of heartbreak, (Y/n) forced a smile on her face. “Renjun told me about you.”

Xiaomi beamed, “He did? How sweet.”

She looked back at Renjun and clasped her hands together. “Isn’t this great, Renjun? We can finally be together now!” 

“I think I’ll get going now,” She bowed her head. She didn’t think she could stand to watch any longer. 

Renjun called out to her but she pretended not to hear him. She woke up that day, barely ready for rejection. So many scenarios she had gone through and prepared what to say. But she didn’t expect that to happen. 

Yet, she had no idea that there would be more pain to come.

┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦

She remembered Xiaomi being introduced to their homeroom the next Monday. She kept exchanging glances with Renjun throughout the class. She could hear Haechan, who was a few seats behind her, making gagging noises at the couple.

She hadn’t spoken much to Renjun since that day at the park. She wasn’t sure which was worse, losing the one chance she had to confess to her crush or witnessing him be reunited with his past lover.

“Are you going to eat your tonkatsu?” Haechan pointed his chopsticks to her lunch, snapping her out of her brief daze. 

He was trying to act like everything was normal. But she could tell he was holding back what he truly wanted to say. Although Renjun or Xiaomi wouldn’t have heard him anyway, since they hadn’t arrived at the cafeteria yet.

When he asked, she pushed her tray toward the boy. “Have it all.”

Her appetite had been lost over the past few days. Not only because of Renjun, she just had this mild pain in her head. Maybe her body was finally breaking from all the emotions she had been trying to hide.

Before Haechan could question her, she stood up from her seat. “I’m going to go back to the classroom for a bit. There’s an assignment I want to get ahead on.”

When she approached their classroom, she saw Renjun and Xiaomi through the window. She was near the door, but they couldn’t see her. She didn’t know why she was inclined to stay. She wasn’t there at the beginning of the conversation. But she had heard the rest of it.

“Tell me the truth, Renjun. Who is Kim (Y/n) to you?” Xiaomi asked. She was no longer smiling brightly.

Immediately (Y/n) was alerted when she heard her name. When did she become the subject?

“Xiaomi…”

She frowned at him in dissatisfaction. “I saw the way you looked at her. Do you not love me anymore?”

“What? No!” Renjun denied. He quickly grabbed Xiaomi’s hands and held them.

She wasn’t prepared to hear what he said next. “Honestly, (Y/n) is just a friend of another friend I made here, and we’ve hung out a few times. She…she means nothing to me.”

“Are you sure?” 

He gently lifted her chin and kissed her reassuringly before murmuring. “Yes.”

(Y/n)'s hand reached to cover her mouth, as she started to back away. A sob climbed up her throat. But she was already running before they could hear her. She couldn’t stop thinking about how naive she had been. How stupid she was.

To ever think for even a moment, that she would ever mean something to someone.

┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦

She remembered her dad mentioning that he wanted to move back to Busan. After she had been born out of wedlock, he moved from his hometown to be with her mother in Seoul. Now that the divorce was almost finalized, there was nothing here for him anymore.

At first, she was against the idea. She didn't want to leave her friends and school. But as she thought about it more, she started to think that maybe it was for the best. She didn't think she could ever look at Renjun the same again. Not after he said those things. Yet there was this part of her that still harbored feelings for him. It left her more devastated than anything. Was she really nothing to him?

She was so sick of it all. But before she could leave everything behind, there was something she wanted to do first.

↣ ↢

Haechan was the only person she told that she was moving. She asked him not to tell any of their other friends, especially Renjun.

Surprisingly, Haechan was a lot more understanding than she expected. But he didn't hold back his anger when she told him about what she had heard the other day.

“Damn. That son of a-”

She nearly hit him for swearing. “Lee Haechan! He's still your best friend.”

“I don't care if he is!” Haechan saw the distress in her eyes and sighed. “Okay, I'm sorry. But I still think he was an a**hole to say those things.”

Hating to admit, she kind of had to agree with him. Maybe Renjun wasn't the person she thought he was.

“Thank you, for being there when I needed it,” she said, avoiding eye contact.

The boy waved his hand dismissively, “You're lucky to have such a smart and loyal friend like me.”

Of course, he still maintained that ego of his. But then Haechan placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a sincere look.

“Hang in there, kid,” He said with a proud smile on his face. “I'm sure things will get better for you.”

“We're the same age, Haechan.”

“Shush, don't ruin the moment.”

She shook her head and laughed. Despite everything, it was still nice to know that there was still one person by her side. The past version of her would have never even imagined being friends with someone like Haechan.

But on multiple levels, life had done its best to prove her wrong.

┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦

At the end of the month, their homeroom teacher had an announcement for the class in the morning. But all Renjun could think about was the empty desk in the back center of the room. (Y/n) hadn't been at school this past week. Multiple attempts he had made to call and text her. But there was no response. It was almost as if she had disappeared all of a sudden.

“I know some of you may be wondering about your classmate that has been missing,” the teacher looked around the students. “I came to tell you that Kim Y/n is no longer a student at this school and has moved away.”

The sound of gasps and murmurs erupted among the class. Renjun shook his head, unable to believe the news. No, it couldn’t be true. Why would she leave without saying anything?

“Where did she move to?” One person asked. Renjun looked at his teacher with hope in his eyes.

But the man shook his head and stepped away from the podium. “I can't disclose that information, for her privacy's sake. That's all I have for today. Get ready for your English class.”

When the teacher left, Renjun turned to find Haechan. He didn't seem the slightest bit surprised by this news. He had to know something.

“Where is (Y/n)?” His friend only responded with a glare.

“Lee Haechan!” Renjun's fingers curled into fists, quick to resort to anger.

Haechan shook his head and brought a light purple envelope from his bag. Without looking at him, he gestured for Renjun to take it. “She asked me to give you this.”

He hesitated before adding, “She should be at the train station. But she doesn't leave until half an hour from now. That's all I'm telling you.”

The envelope crinkled in Renjun's hands. He heard Xiaomi call his name. But he was already out the door, running out of school and catching a taxi. He had to find Y/n. He didn't care about the consequences.

Nothing else was on his mind except for her.

┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦

Dear Renjun,

A part of me hopes you will never read this. But if you are, that must mean things didn’t work out the way I had planned. And the purpose of this letter has changed from what it was originally supposed to be.

I know in our day and age that letters are old-fashioned. But I still loved the idea of them. I am writing you this letter because I am not brave enough to face you in person. I haven’t been truthful to you about some things. So here I want to clarify them. I hope you don’t mind.

I don’t remember how it exactly happened. But I’ve liked you for some time now. I think it was that day when I saw you helping that lady cross the street. I guess I’m someone who is easily swayed by kindness.

However, I didn’t realize my feelings until the day you learned about my secrets. That was when I knew I couldn’t keep myself from falling anymore. When we used to study together and hang out in the summer, I was the happiest I had ever been. I should thank you for that.

You had gotten out of a serious relationship and I wasn’t looking to date. I thought I was content with just being friends.

Then on the day you were sick, we kissed. Maybe you didn’t remember. Or maybe you didn’t want to. It was probably some mistake to you. Yet for a second, I thought there was a chance you liked me too. But I was very wrong about that, wasn’t I?

I know I mean nothing to you. But to me, you meant everything. You were the first person who knew my secret and comforted me. You made me feel like I didn’t have to hurt alone anymore.

I may not be your first love, Renjun, But you were mine. And I want nothing more than happiness and success in your future. Seriously, do something that makes you happy. Not because of any standards that are put on us, or the pressure that you give yourself. I hope that you can find your dream again and to someday see you shine brighter than anyone else.

Obviously, you don’t have to listen to me. But these were the things I wanted to say to you without any more regrets.

Sincerely, Kim (Y/n)

The letter crumpled in Renjun’s shaky hands. He looked at the taxi driver with desperation. “Ahjeossi, please hurry!” He anxiously sat back in his seat.

So she did hear what he said that day. Why, why did he lie? Why had he been so foolish?

When he finally got to the train station, Renjun sprinted inside only to be crowded by the other people passing by. He tried his best to get through briskly.

“(Y/n)!” He called out as if he was insane. “Kim (Y/n)!”

He could care less about the people who gave him odd stares. His mind was focused on getting to her. He ran to find the public transport timetable. His eyes darted across the board and found the departures.

10:44 BUSAN KTX DELAY: 0 min

He was too late. She was gone, leaving him in his regrets and despair. The boy fell to his knees as tears streamed down his face.

“Please…please come back, (Y/n),” Renjun cried, “Don’t go, I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

He knew that she couldn’t hear him. Every word that came out of his mouth was futile. She could not see him right now. But if she did, she would’ve run back to embrace him and tell him not to cry.

All he could do was bang his fists on the ground, pathetically. “(Y/n), I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

He said this, even though she was never his and he was never hers. This pain was worse than when Xiaomi had broken up with him. He didn’t think he would ever be able to move on from it. There were so many words that he wanted to say to her. Words that he should’ve said to her before. Most importantly,

“I love you.”

┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦┈◦•◦⟡•◦

{ five years later }

Here she was again, standing before him after not seeing each other since the eleventh grade. But she wasn’t alone.

“Hey, everyone. It's been a while,” she still seemed shy, but more reassured.

That was when his eyes found the person holding her hand. He was tall, handsome with jet black hair and a face that could charm anyone. If Renjun saw him in any other setting, he would have assumed he was some playboy. But in this case, the guy was looking at Y/n with tenderness in his eyes. Anyone would be able to tell he was completely enamored with her from just one glance.

Coincidentally, she met Renjun's eyes when she introduced the person next to her. “This is Na Jaemin—my boyfriend.”

“Wah, he's so handsome!” Her friends were awed as if he wasn't standing right there.”You found yourself a good one, Y/n!”

All Renjun could do was sit back and listen to the others asking how the two met and how long they'd been dating. He thought he should feel angry or betrayed. But for some reason, he didn't feel those things.

“Renjun, you should sing something for us,” Haechan said later in the night. He gestured to the small stage near the back.

“I don't know, guys…”

“Oh come on,” one classmate begged. “Just one song?”

Eventually, Renjun gave in knowing it was the only way for them to stop asking. In the next few seconds, the singer found himself getting out of his seat and getting up on stage. He adjusted the microphone stand and connected his phone to the speaker.

Tightening his grip as the music started to play, inadvertently they made eye contact again. At just one glance, so many emotions swelled in his heart. Without her, he would've ignored his passion and moved on to live a meaningless life. But thanks to (Y/n), he was able to find his dream again and go after it.

Never would he forget how he hurt her with his foolish words. The song he was about to sing was chosen especially for her.

“Why do I get sulky so easily? Am I this pathetic because of my small heart?” He started to sing, tightly gripping onto the mic stand. “Don’t go, I know I was a bit too much. Can you forgive me for being regretful again?”

As a professional, Renjun did his best to keep his voice stable, but it wasn’t easy. This song was written for her. He didn't know if she had heard it before. But he hoped it could convey the feelings he wasn't able to before.

Kim (Y/n), who he loved. Kim (Y/n), who he had hurt and brought him so much regret.

The same heartache he was feeling earlier returned as he sang the chorus, “Tell me, why I let you down? Any chance I get I'm breaking down.”

“I know it's my fault, but why is it so hard? To tell you that I'm sorry, heart.” His gaze remained fixed on her as the lyrics gracefully flowed from his lips.

There was loud applause when Renjun finished the song. But he couldn't enjoy it. He just wanted to see her reaction. She was smiling at him with tears glistening in her eyes. That was all the approval Renjun needed.

When the event was over, he went outside in hopes to talk to her. His feet stopped moving when he found her standing under a large tree nearby. She was talking to Jaemin, who had his back toward him. She laughed at something he said.

Then a few moments later, the man took a small box out of his jacket pocket. Renjun watched as her eyes lit up in the utmost surprise. Renjun couldn't hear the conversation. But he was there when she mouthed the word “yes” and to see them warmly hug each other after.

Still, in her partner's embrace, she met Renjun's gaze once more. He knew that she was content by the way she smiled at him.

And he couldn't help but smile back. Was he envious? Of course, he was. He would do almost anything to be in that man’s place. However, nothing could be done or changed.

He was happy for her because she was happy. No words could be exchanged. But none needed to be said. Their story had ended a long time ago.

They were living in reality, not some cliché world where everyone got their happy ending. 

Where having a first love didn't necessarily guarantee they would be their last. But that didn't mean finding happiness was not achievable.

𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩⟡𓆪

[cyanide-latte]

Get to know my TWST OCs pt. 3

Copper's Backstory

💫💫💫

Figured maybe doing a series of posts like this would help friends and mutuals get to know my OCs better!

Part 1: What Are They Twisted From? | Part 2: What Nicknames Do They Have?

Special thanks to @blithesharem for prompting me to do some basic character backstory write-ups for you all, starting with Copper~. Apologies in advance, this gets a little lengthy!

Warnings: child abduction, references to emotional manipulation/abuse and malnourishment of a child, references to deadnaming and misgendering, implications of animal abuse

While I try to keep all of the above mentioned mostly vague, I completely understand if you do not feel comfortable reading any of it. So please don't feel obligated to do so, you are allowed to nope out.

We open one stormy night in early May many years ago, on the stoop of an orphanage, where a child is surrendered, the person who brought them fleeing into the night before too many questions can be asked. The only real information known about the infant is that they were born in late April and are only two weeks old, and their birth name was written as Helena B—., the surname having run in the rain to the point of being unreadable apart from the first letter.

The child is raised for the first ~6-7 years of their life in the orphanage, generally keeping to themself and not making many friends. (Why bother when most of them are likely to just be gone at any given point in time due to getting adopted?) They're rather sharp-minded for their age, and pick up rather quickly that they're less likely to get adopted the older they get, as well as the fact they're often passed over for other children who fit the look or the personality that would-be parents are looking for, furthering their loneliness. The only solace they find is in the kindness of the elderly gentleman who helps with the upkeep and work of the orphanage, a cat beastman the children refer to as "Old Flynn". Flynn often takes the time to comfort and reassure the child, teaching them a rhyme to encourage them to have faith that they'll find their place and their family soon enough.

Trouble comes when a shady pair of individuals start sniffing around the orphanage claiming an interest in possibly adopting a child, but refusing to go through the appropriate channels to do so, instead trying to approach the children when they're outside at play. It's during one of these moments when, having learned the approximate times the children are called back inside, that they abduct the child named "Helena" and vanish long before her absence can be noticed. Even after this, police efforts to find the missing child are quickly abandoned in favor of suggesting "she ran away" despite the evidence of suspicious characters. Only Old Flynn retains any certainty that "Helena" was abducted and worries for them.

The abductors—a failed mage and failed performer, Gorgania Stone, and his business partner, Hiram Lurk—take the child with them to dilapidated riverboat Lurk owns, anchored in a place called The Devil's Bayou [not too far removed from the Twisted Wonderland version of New Orleans] and guarded by Stone's pet alligators, Augustus and Octavian. Though frightened, the kid makes it quite clear they're strong-willed and have a defiant streak, and when Stone eventually gets around to indicating they want the child to work to find missing valuables from other wrecks and various sites in the bayou, he's surprised by the kid's attempts to bargain his way through the whole thing. But children aren't too difficult to deal with if you've got a way with them; make them like you, make them trust you, and have the right leverage, that's all it takes to keep them in line.

And that perfect leverage makes itself known when the kid argues they are a boy, not a girl. While Lurk is prepared to try to argue with the kid, Stone sees the opportunity to make the boy pliable and promises that if he stays with them, behaves and does as he's told, he is allowed to be a boy and pick his own name. After all, he has no guarantee that even if he is adopted that a mother and father would let him do that and be himself, now does he? This tactic works, and the boy agrees, elated at the chance to be himself, and picks the name "Copper".

Over the next ~10 years, Copper is repeatedly made to track down lost valuables in the bayou that Stone and Lurk have difficulty in reaching or uncovering due to their size. This results in a lot of withholding meals as a means of keeping him smaller and capable of navigating tight spaces and various wreckage. Along the way he's found to be ambidextrous and double-jointed in most of his fingers, resulting in Stone gradually teaching him various little skills to "help him". In addition, the more lost valuables and treasures Copper uncovers, the more Stone is willing to give some leeway, bringing the boy books to help him along with his education, including tomes of magic once Copper shows an aptitude for it. (Never enough to truly empower him though.) In secret, Copper also practices his magic and befriends several animals that live in the bayou, gradually learning to speak with them and not ever realizing how his skill as a mage is developing.

He makes numerous attempts to escape Stone, but he's repeatedly caught (usually by Augustus and Octavian, with whom he gradually develops a bond and can communicate with, to Stone's increasing ire,) and his attempts are hampered by his inability to swim. Typically he has to be craftier than that. He often tries to slip away on the occasions he's dragged into town to assist Stone or Lurk with something, though these efforts are more half-hearted, quickly thwarted, and more for a show of defiance than anything. The trips to town allow him to gradually develop more of a connection with the culture there, as well as allowing him extra time to plan a more solid escape.

The one major attempt at escape comes during an afternoon when he's 14, during a particularly dry summer. With Mr. Lurk napping and the alligators seeking cool shelter, Copper manages to navigate enough dry and shallow spots to find his way out and into town on his own. Frightened and high-strung, he tries to find help, only to stumble across a community of people who offer him kindness and a chance to partake in their meal. (It's from them he takes the surname Benoit, to always remember and honor the kindness they showed him.) Touched by this and reminded of Old Flynn, Copper has a brief moment of hope that perhaps these people can help him with his escape, if not possibly find him a place to stay among them, only for Stone to arrive and charm his way through them with a vicious smile in order to drag Copper back out into Devil's Bayou. Though he makes no effort to physically punish Copper, Stone has no issue weaponizing other means of keeping him in line, referring to him as "Helena" and "girl", and revealing he knows about the animals. The old books of magic are removed, no new ones are ever brought there, and that same night all of the animals Copper had befriended disappear, never seen again.

After this, Copper is far more cautious and careful in everything he does. He begins to develop a Signature Spell/Unique Magic in secret, one he so closely guards he refuses to even consider the mechanics of how it works or how it reflects his inner resilience and desire for freedom. Over time his constant living with fear morphs into a fear-response where he intentionally starts to taunt or aggravate whatever is frightening him most, in an attempt to see how far he can get in worsening the situation before facing consequences. Stone quickly catches on and opts to ignore this, taking it as a point of teenage rebellion and contenting himself with the fact that if backtalk is all Copper is going to do, he'll live with that. The boy still has his uses.

It's those uses and his unusual gift for turning up lost pirate treasure from so many locations in Devil's Bayou that cause the turning point. The boy has no small talent as a mage, but pirate treasure is often protected by blood magic, and won't just surrender itself so willingly to someone without pirate lineage. Remembering this at last, Stone's frequent trips away from the riverboat increase as he tries to track down evidence of Copper's family tree. While he refuses to share his findings, he comes to the conclusion based on what little he is able to uncover that the boy might be descended from a legendary pirate captain. Which means there's a chance he can uncover a much larger, more valuable find.

Here's where we get into some shared universe world-building with my friends; @inmateofthemind made a post here about the first bit of lore for this, but the idea is that at some point the various arcane academies used to run something of a student exchange program following their winter break schedules, in which students of participating schools are shuffled around to one another in order to build better relations. Crowley decides to try revitalizing the Arcane Exchange for this reason. And during this period of the Arcane Exchange, Night Raven College also becomes just a touch more accessible to former alumni as well.

Stone, who has long suspected that the Headmage of his old alma mater is secretly keeping a legendary pirate treasure hidden somewhere in the depths of Night Raven College, gets wind of the Arcane Exchange and sees an opportunity: drop in unannounced for a visit under the cover story that he would like to spend some time there with his ward to see if Night Raven College would be a good fit for the boy. After all Crowley will be hard-pressed to turn them away, Stone can take this as an opportunity to use Copper to trespass and find that treasure to make him immeasurably wealthy, and perhaps if the boy is allowed the false promise of possibly attending NRC to learn magic should he behave, he'll be better about falling in line.

However, Stone underestimates Copper's capacity to both find and cause trouble, his desire to be free, and especially his eagerness to make friends with other teenagers who have just as big a knack for trouble as he does. And everyone might be also be underestimating the role Scarabia's Housewarden is going to play in all of this.

There is more but as I'm writing most of the rest of this story out in a series of oneshots and short fics, I think I'm going to stop here for now (hopefully this will give me a reason to eventually post the fics I've been writing.)

Taglist: @blithesharem @inmateofthemind @ramshacklerumble @tixdixl @simons-twsted-children @elenauaurs @thehollowwriter @theleechyskrunkly @rainesol (Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

[emeraldtart]

Reincarnation AU (Hantengu)

History

Hantengu was born as himself. He was a bit cowardly, but after meeting the love of his life, he swore to be better. At this point he still doesn't have any of his memories yet. He has two sons.

But then karma strikes. His wife fell ill and passed away, leaving him with his two children. One of his sons went out the city to start a new life, while the other stayed behind their hometown.

The son that went to the city gets married, and they were blessed with a quadruplets; Sekido, Kraku, Aizetsu and Urogi.

When the brothers turn eleven, the father of the four passed away with the same illness that killed his mother, leaving them with their mother. Their lives began to fell to a downward spiral, as it turns out that their mother was the incarnation of Urami.

The siblings were scared since their mother is now as cruel as a demon. After a year of torment and abuse, Sekido wakes his brothers up at night so that they can catch the late night train and find their uncle or grandfather.

Meanwhile, Hantengu took care of his grandson, Zohakuten, after his parents passed away in a storm. Imagine his surprise when he saw the brothers knocking on the door at night, all wet from rain.

After the quartet and Zohakuten fell asleep, Hantengu remembered his past life. As much as he wanted pity, he knows that he doesn't deserve it. So he took his late wife's advice and move on with his life, taking care of his grandsons all by himself.

When the quartet turns 16, the family moves to Kimetsu City so that the grandsons can continue their studies.

General headcanons

Hantengu is one of the first to be reincarnated, along with Jigoro and the other elderly characters.

Sekido is the eldest, followed by Karaku, Aizetsu and Urogi.

The quartet are 16, while Zohakuten is the same age as Senjuro.

None of the clones, including Urami, remembers their past lives. Only Hantengu remembers as it is his punishment for his previous life.

Hantengu worked at an antique shop. He knows a lot about weapons, especially the ones his clones wielded during his time as a demon.

The grandsons' names are written in katakana (Japanese syllabic writing used for words of foreign origin). So for example, Aizetsu's name isn't written as 哀絶, but アイゼツ.

Because naming your children after emotions is strange. At least you can put actual meanings this way.

Quartet + Zohakuten headcanons

Sekido takes the worst of their mother's wrath. He has many scars underneath his clothes. This also causes him to be very ill-tempered as he doesn't know who will hurt him and who will not. After all, if their mother hits her own sons, what will other people do to them? The only way to gain his trust is to gain Aizetsu's first.

Karaku can be described as lazy, because he just do what he wants to do. He likes crafting things like fans and such. Normally sleeps in class, but did his homework on time. Surprisingly, he pays a lot of attention to details that normal people doesn't pay attention to. So he knows a lot about other people.

Aizetsu always have a sad look on his face, but it's just his resting face. He actually smiles as much as Urogi and Karaku. Interested in guns after first day at Kimetsu Academy. Got mistaken as a girl by Zenitsu due to the nickname his brothers call him, "Ai".

Urogi is the most chaotic of the four. He likes to climb trees or any other tall things. The most hyper, he has plenty of energy to burn and was sought out by many clubs. He always take naps in trees. Can talk to birds somehow, an eagle he saved when he was young flew all the way from his hometown to the city to thank him.

Zohakuten always have a constant frown on his face, but he can be a nice person when he's not being rude, which is often. He can play the drums. Gets along with Muichiro. They exchange creative insults like trading cards.

Both Giyuu and Aizetsu thinks that tracksuits are the peak of modern fashion, much to Sekido and Uzui's chagrin.