#It's reminiscent of self sabotaging

[couterror]

[jemmo]

i can’t tell you how much i usually hate these ignoring, distancing plots in shows and how much i absolutely adore everything about these 2 episodes of the eighth sense. like im not having a good time, and it’s fantastic.

bc the thing is, in all of this, i can’t see the right way to go, i can’t find the person to blame, i can’t find the way to make it better. I can’t single out a single moment or a thing someone did and say “this is why everything went wrong”. it’s just this coming together and rise and swell of things happening and people feeling things that has us ending up here and it feels beautifully and horribly organic bc we can’t find that point where it all went wrong. was it on that rooftop? was it at the beach? was it when they first met? was it when his brother died? was it when he was born into this family? there is no single point. it’s all of them and it’s none of them. there is truly nothing and no one to blame. and there are bad characters in the show, people you can hate, eunji and taehyung, but neither of them are to blame for any of the bad stuff that happens in the show. you’re not waiting for them to be taken down bc that doesn’t solve anything. instead, it’s just two people hurting, and not knowing how to make it better.

bc you take jaewon, and after what he says at the end of ep 8, you want to hate him, you want to be so angry at him for what he says, for how he acts, how dismissive and hurtful he is, and yet you’ve been made to understand 100% why, and not just in a “i get it but that wasn’t the right thing to do” way, in a “that was horrible and yet i know he doesn’t see any other way to handle this” way. like you don’t see this as a misstep, or a step to far, bc you know for him, in his state of mind, it is completely justified, it’s necessary. bc it not only punishes the person he blames for all of this, himself, but he sees it as a way to protect jihyun. and not even in a cliche “bad things happen when people around me, the people I love always get hurt” kinda way, but more so in that he sees that he is a scared, messy, struggling person that doesn’t know how to handle himself, and doesn’t want to inflict that on anyone, let alone the person he cares about. so what’s worse, a quick, swift blow that hurts but cuts everything off cleanly, or this prolonged relationship where he inevitably continues to weigh jihyun down with the weight of his trauma, and take it out on him. what’s the point of having a place of refuge when you ruin it more and more every time you depend on it, until it eventually can’t offer you comfort. it’s a lesser of two evils, jaewon’s choice is obvious to him.

but then you take jihyun. and we talk about masks and fronts but we never once question whether jihyun wears a mask bc he appears so sweet and innocent and naive, what can this boy possibly be putting up a front for. but i see it, this almost fake it till you make it confidence front that yes is becoming more natural. but my god just think about what he’s gone through for a second. think about it. left home for the first time in his life, moved to an unfamiliar and intimidating city with only one other person he knows, started a new job, started university, tried to build relationships, met a man that intrigues him, and perused him only to be kissed and then ignored, then maybe establish something tentative, only to then see him spiral, go on a trip where he shared his trauma, you have an intimate night together only to almost die, and then be not only ignored, but plain and simple rejected and pushed away. like… you can say all you want about jihyun growing as a person and having more courage, but no amount of growth for however many months this has been going on for can prepare you for that. for the mixed messages on steroids. for the back and forth, not knowing. to give yourself to someone like that and go through something traumatic and then be abandoned by that person. we get it, bc we see all of jaewon’s story. but apart from what jaewon shared at the beach, jihyun doesn’t know any more than that. he doesn’t know about therapy, about how his father acts towards him, about the extent of his trauma and how it manifests and affects his mental health, and how he is struggling every single day. and you can’t expect him to know the depths of that no matter how empathetic and connected he is, how much he cares about jaewon, he can’t be superhuman. and so you get why he pushes and fights for jaewon. like… he is in love. it’s clear. he’s fallen in love with him. he is this wide-eyed, open kid that fell in love with a senior. and jaewon has just messed with his head, he’s never been clear, and you can’t expect jihyun to just get past that bc he knows something is up with jaewon. he can’t know the full story, but even if he did, that can’t be a reason or a justification to be treated the way jaewon treats him. bc we’re all about jaewon putting himself first and doing what he wants and respecting himself like that, but jihyun deserves that too. and it’s such a fine line to tread when you know someone is going through something, bc again you understand why, but you’re still the one being treated that way. like we talk about jaewon’s trauma, but here jihyun was part of it, he went through that traumatic experience. he’s the one that nearly lost his life. and yes, he appears to handle it well, and no matter to what extent that’s true or not, you can’t not look at jaewon struggling and understand it and then not look at jihyun with that same understanding. it’s not about comparing trauma and pain and deciding who is suffering more, it’s seeing that there are two people in this, and they’ve both been affected, so we should give them the same level of understanding.

and that’s something jaewon has to see. that his self-preservation is selfish. that his destructive behavior doesn’t just affect jihyun, instead it feels pointed and directed, bc every way jaewon hurts himself hurts jihyun. and it comes bc jihyun was so much of what was good about jaewon’s life for a second, so attacking that is his only form of self-sabotage. he can’t mess up his relationship with his friends or parents bc they were broken in the first place, and he can’t sabotage his future bc it’s already been ruined the moment he didn’t pursue his photography major. him nearly getting kicked out of school affected him so little not just bc he wanted that punishment, but bc even that punishment meant so little to him. all these things are established and they already contribute to his suffering. removing jihyun from his life is the only active thing he can do to make himself feel worse, and he can veil it in an act of protection, and even feel like he’s doing the right thing, but that deceives them both into believing this is done from a good place, when no good can actually come of it. in trying to protect jihyun, you hurt him more. in trying to hurt yourself, you hurt him too. and when someone is in a headspace like jaewon is, you look for that thing that’ll break through. bc he is so distant, he’s trying to remove himself from reality, and jihyun needs to act as this person that can anchor him to it. when you’re trying to isolate and separate yourself, sometimes seeing that you still affect things, that there’s a persons that exists that is affected and hurt by your actions, and no matter how you try to cut yourself off, you cannot stop that, separating yourself still hurts them, maybe that’s a thing that can get through. but that’s something that depends on jaewon. ultimately, he’s the only one that can get himself out of this place, and that’s what makes it so hard, that no matter how much jihyun cares and how much he fights for him, nothing can come of that effort is jaewon doesn’t meet him there. and it’d be so easy for jihyun to give in, to take the hurt, but over the course of this show we’ve seen the strength jihyun has developed, which has only seemed to increase more so after the accident, call it a renewed vigor for life or something. he has the strength that jaewon doesn’t, to not let his pain consume him. and in a beautiful full-circle moment, it’s because of jaewon, bc when they first spoke he sparked in jihyun a want to be stronger, to be more than the country mouse, and he’s done it. and it’s that courage that means he can fight for jaewon, even in the face of rejection. he trusts himself and that he knows jaewon, the real jaewon, to see past words that are intended to hurt them both, and go after the person that’s still inside jaewon somewhere. no, he can’t do it for him, and no them being together is not some magical cure for jaewon, but it’s what can put him on a path of caring for himself again, and sometimes that has to start with caring about someone else (and suddenly I’m reminded of my beautiful man 2 and how kiyoi tries to break hira out of his worthless mindset by making him care about him, and how ultimately that can’t be enough, and that hira has to take those first steps of seeing his self worth by himself). what jihyun can do by fighting is again act as that tether to reality and try to be this representation of the good jaewon can be and do. bc look at jihyun, look at how confident and strong he has become, and look at how he got there, bc you saw that country mouse and gave him the time of day and helped him grow and gave him new experiences. you jaewon, you. and that shift in mindset, from jihyun representing hurt and the accident and the trauma of his brother and everything he can’t do, to being that light and refuge and everything he can do is again something that might breaks through. and the fact it has such narrative strength and satisfaction makes me hopeful that that’s what we might actually get.

[projectionistwrites]

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 2

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Marc Spector x afab!psychologist!reader (11.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, squirting, creampie, bondage, intense edging, reader is very mean, facesitting/riding, 69ing, praise kink, dirty talk, use of the stoplight system) NOTES: time for everyone’s favorite babygirl. again, i really hope i did marc’s character justice. also, you can’t tell me marc wouldn’t look so pretty crying for you. i kinda went feral on this one. <3 DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

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CASE STUDY: MARC SPECTOR

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Host / Apparently Normal Part

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Fearful

CHARACTERISTICS: cocksure, standoffish, pensive, calculating; resilient to a fault; views himself as irredeemable in the face of his past, unworthy of forgiveness or compassion; must be in control of every situation in order to feel secure.

SPLIT FROM HOST: N/A

TRAUMA RESPONSE: tendency to run when facing emotionally distressing situations

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: dominant, assertive, deliberate, practiced, indulgent; derives majority of satisfaction from his ability to draw pleasure from his partner; cognitive blockages that are reminiscent of self-sabotage (undeserving of release or pleasure).

“You’re early, Doc.”

Marc teased—he was leaning against the doorframe with a smug smirk on his face, successfully blocking your entrance into his flat. You felt your face heat up beneath his devious gaze.

“I know.”

Your words were softer than you’d intended them to be, more hesitant—Marc’s eyes narrowed at your wavery response.

He wordlessly stepped to the side, allowing you to finally slip past him and into the threshold of the apartment. You paused in the entrance as the door clicked shut behind Marc. He narrowly avoided colliding into your form as he turned, his arms jutting out to brace himself against you to prevent either of you from stumbling. His hands gripped your biceps, his chest pressed against your back. Your body tensed under his touch, and he let out a low chuckle, slipping past you and further into the space.

“Jesus, you’re touchy today. Everything okay?”

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he studied you. The movement was so easy, so casual and relaxed, as if this was just like any other time you’d hung out at his place—as if you weren’t there just to get into his pants. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you glanced down at your worn sneakers. It felt...different, this time. With Steven, you knew there would be a learning curve for both of you. You knew that, to some extent, you would be the one calling the shots, making Steven feel safe and comfortable. But now...you were intimidated. And ashamed to admit it.

You must’ve been quiet a beat too long, because the next second, Marc was in front of you, standing toe-to-toe. When you didn’t meet his eyes, his left hand came to nudge your chin upward, forcing your gaze upon him. You gulped, but his dark eyes were softened with concern.

“Hey. You gotta talk to me, Y/N. What’s on your mind?”

You blew out a breath.

“No, it’s nothing, I’m just—”

“—nervous?”

Marc finished for you, and you squeezed your eyes shut in an effort to prevent yourself from seeing the satisfied look on his perfect face.

“Yes, Marc, laugh it up. I’m nervous.”

“Hey, I didn’t even—”

“Yeah, but you were gonna.”

You snapped with a glare, but you felt guilt punch through your gut when a look of hurt crested Marc's features. You sighed.

“Shit, Marc, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“I am, too, you know.”

You blinked once, then twice.

“You’re...what?”

He rolled his eyes, huffing out a bitter, humorless laugh, as if he thought you were toying with him. When he saw the genuine confusion on your face, he threw his head back with a groan.

“You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed, but when you finally realized what he meant, you felt a small smile creep onto your face.

“Wait—you’re nervous?”

Marc shrugged sheepishly, and you could see a bit of color rise to his cheeks—was he blushing?

“You’re telling me—Marc Spector is nervous?”

“Yeah, and who’s laughing it up, now?”

He quirked a brow, giving you an accusatory look, and you giggled at him, the tension melting away from your body easily.

“I’m not laughing at you, Marc, I’m just—why would you be nervous? Especially around me?”

He shook his head at you incredulously, taking a few steps closer. You felt your back press up against the door behind you, successfully trapping you in Marc's vicinity.

“S’that so hard to believe? A pretty girl like you, coming over to study how I am in bed—even if it’s just for science?”

Marc wiggled his brows theatrically, and you laughed again, shaking your head. Still, there was blood pumping loud in your ears as he spoke, and you could feel electricity crackle in the air between you, charged with energy.

“Yeah, for science. But—you have pretty girls over all the time to see how you are in bed.”

“Yeah, but s’never been you, has it?”

The words were barely audible, muttered lowly beneath his breath, but you felt your jaw slacken at his quiet confession. Your eyes flitted up to his, and there was that cheeky, self-satisfied grin on his face again—fuck, he was too handsome, you just wanted to—

“Can I just fuckin’ kiss you, already?”

He was close, now, his warm exhales mingling with your own. His brown eyes glittered onyx as he drank you in, lips parted just slightly, the tip of his nose barely brushing your own. You felt faint, the proximity dizzying as temptation sank its teeth into your flesh. With the faintest nod of your head, Marc took the plunge.

You’d never had a kiss quite like this one before. Of course, Steven’s was great, but it was exactly what you’d expected—a desperate clash of teeth and tongue, the two of you battling your insecurities to fall into a steady rhythm. But this—this was fucking special. Marc’s hand slipped behind your head to thread through your hair, his other arm looping around your waist to pull you flush against him. You were frankly surprised at the tenderness with which his lips found yours, starting with a barely-there brush of his mouth. It was sweet, and raw, intimate, and you felt his lashes flutter against your cheek when he pulled away too soon.

You were breathless, your face following his as he drew back, desperate to maintain the contact. He chuckled at this, but remained close, eyes finding yours again.

“Still nervous?”

He asked, his voice low and gravelly. His eyes seemed darker as he smirked down at you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Your eyes flitted down to his mouth, your breath catching in your lungs at the sight. Something resembling a squeak involuntarily escaped your throat.

“Marc. Please.”

You whined, big doe-eyes glimmering, and Marc scrunched his face up as though he was in pain, eyes squeezed shut tight as he groaned. He rested his forehead against yours.

“Shit. You really gonna make it that easy for me, baby?”

He practically hissed, and a breathy laugh blew past your lips. Marc captured your mouth with his again, harder this time, the hand that was in your hair reached up to brace himself against the door above your head, successfully caging you in. You hummed against him as his tongue passed through the seam of your lips, sinking into you further. Your desperate hands reached up and clawed at his chest, gripping the navy blue fabric of his cotton t-shirt in your fingers as you held him close. He pressed himself into you, and you could feel the hardness of his bulge flush against your lower abdomen. A moan escaped you at the feeling of his arousal, your body instinctually thrusting into his hold. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

“Yeah? You feel what you do to me, huh, baby?”

He teased against your lips, and you tossed your head back, thudding against the door behind you. You looked down your nose at him, through your lashes, panting slightly, your hands still twisted in the material of his shirt.

“Fuck, Marc, want you so bad, just—”

Your words died on your breath when his arms abruptly slid beneath your butt and hoisted you upwards, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck. One of his large hands stayed firmly squeezing the flesh of your ass, the other roamed the length of your back as he pressed his lips against yours again, turning to walk you further into the apartment.

“Jesus, this is gonna be fun.”

He mumbled at your eagerness and responsiveness, your hands threading through his brown curls as he brought you towards the bed, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. You gasped when he threw you back onto the mattress abruptly, your body bouncing once at the contact, causing you to giggle. But then Marc was stalking over your body, hovering above your body with a predatory look in his eyes. He licked his lips as you blinked up at him.

“Gonna take my time with you, pretty girl. Gonna absolutely ruin you.”

You impatiently pulled his face back to yours, and he didn’t resist, kissing you back with equal fervor and desire as your own, but the moment you lifted your hips to seek friction from his body, he pulled away, tutting at you condescendingly.

“Ah, ah, ah. Relax, baby. Don’t torture yourself.”

He smirked, fingers dancing across the skin of your stomach beneath the hem of your shirt. You reacted immediately, lifting your arms above your head to allow him to pull it from your body.

“Look at you—so obedient.”

His patronizing tone normally would’ve pissed you off, but there was something about the look in Marc's eyes—completely enraptured with you, ready to give you the world—that made you want to do whatever he said. He reached behind your body to undo your bra, fingers nimbly unhooking the clasps as he yanked it off of you, his face immediately sinking into your cleavage. He groaned, lips frantically attaching themselves to the flesh between your breasts, wandering across the expanse of the newly-exposed skin and wherever they could reach.

“Oh, baby. Got such pretty tits.”

He growled, teeth playfully sinking into the skin at the top of your right breast, earning a yelp from your mouth as he quickly soothed the sting with a swipe of his tongue, smirking up at you. The heat of his mouth was enough to briefly distract you from his wandering hands, but then he was yanking your pants down your legs in one fell swoop, leaving you bare save for the plain pink cotton panties you’d worn today—they weren’t particularly sexy, as you had been trying to prevent your apparel from serving as a confounding variable, but Marc still looked like he wanted to devour you.

His rough hands ran up the plush skin of your thighs, over your hips before squeezing at your tits, making your back arch up and off the bed. A dark chuckle sounded from above you.

“So eager.”

He hummed, pressing a kiss to your mouth, and you felt his hands travel down your body again, teasingly fondling at the waistband of your underwear as you sighed. You let your own hands travel beneath his shirt, running your hands along the warmth of his toned abdomen, coaxing him out of the material. You were happily surprised when he honored your silent request, allowing you to pull the shirt over his head and toss it to the side. His expression flickered for a moment as you admired him, his eyes briefly shining with a certain warmth that you couldn’t decipher. He pressed his lips to yours, a soft, sweet kiss, but when he pulled away, the wicked gleam in his eye had returned.

“Gonna make you feel good, baby. You want me to touch you?”

Your nod was frantic, your head pressed back into the pillows as you forced your body to stay still beneath him, even as you desperately wanted to rut up against his jean-clad thighs.

“Yeah, you do, huh? Bein’ such a good girl for me, baby—you gonna keep behavin’ yourself? Gonna let me take care a’ you?”

You whined, desperation starting to pulse through your limbs, making you want to squirm.

“Yes, Marc, yes, just—please—”

He shushed you, his lips pressing hotly beneath your jaw before continuing down the column of your neck, down your sternum, across your breasts, and finally stopping above your navel. He hummed into your skin, the vibrations causing a chill to pass over your spine, goosebumps rising in their wake. He lifted his hands to spread your legs further apart, granting him the space to lay between them so he was face-to-face with your clothed core.

“Fuck, baby—soakin’ for me already.”

You could feel his hot breath against the cool, damp material of your panties, and you jolted when his fingers lightly pressed against the wet spot, the pads of his digits just barely swiping over your folds. Your toes curled and legs tensed, trying hard to withstand Marc's slow, relentless teasing. He seemed to be enjoying it, a dark chuckle escaping his mouth at your reaction.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

He requested lowly, hands pressed against your inner thighs to hold them apart in front of him. You tried to make your voice steady.

“Marc, please, just—”

His fingers harshly curled into the flesh of your thighs, creating divots in the soft skin as you flinched. He gave you a warning glare.

“You never struck me as the bratty type. C’mon, baby—tell me what you want.”

“You, Marc, fuck—want you so bad. Always wanted you.”

You flinched at your own confession, but Marc responded with a throaty growl.

“Oh, yeah? Thought this was just for research, hm?”

You felt his nose brush against the crotch of your panties, and you whimpered, your hips lifting of their own accord. Marc’s hands gripped your waist tightly and slammed your ass back into the mattress, pressing you down firmly.

“That’s enough.”

He warned, suddenly strict, and you swallowed, trying hard to resist the urge to sink your hands in his hair and force him towards where you needed him most.

“Fuckin’ greedy little thing. I’ll give you whatever you want, pretty girl—just wanna hear you say it.”

You bit your lip defiantly, feigning confusion at his request, and he growled again, teeth sinking into the flesh of your hip right above the waistband of your panties. You jumped at the sensation, letting out a sharp cry, and you felt the vibration of his chuckle through your skin.

“Go on, Y/N. Tell me the truth. Tell me how bad you want me.”

Your resolve shattered.

“Want you so bad, Marc. Wanted you since the day I met you. Wanted you to bend me over the desk in my office, wanted—wanted to get on my knees for you right there on the bus. Got off to the thought of you fucking me so many times, Marc, shit, please, would you just—”

He practically ripped the panties from your body as his mouth finally surged forward to steal a taste of your sopping cunt. You yelped in surprise when his tongue swiped through your folds, and Marc wasted no time in sinking two fingers into your throbbing entrance, already beginning a relentless pace within you.

“Oooh, FUCK, Marc—”

You exclaimed, hips thrusting upward at the sudden stimulation, and Marc’s strong arm reached up to press down on your stomach, forcing your movements to halt.

“Sit fuckin’ still—want you to cum all over my fingers, baby.”

He muttered against your clit, lips wrapping around the bud to suck harshly. Your orgasm was rapidly approaching already, the pleasure mounting and mounting with each sudden thrust of Marc’s thick fingers, each move deliberate and practiced. You were mewling beneath him, back arched harshly as he continued his pace, dark eyes watching as your face contorted into a look of pleasure.

“That’s it, baby, can feel you squeezin’ my fingers, fuck—you gonna cum for me?”

Your climax peaked easily and you let out a long sigh as you let the waves of pleasure overcome your senses, only acutely aware of Marc’s gentle praises being muttered against your throbbing cunt as your became pliant beneath him.

Your muscles began to loosen after your sudden and intense orgasm, but the sensation didn’t last for long—Marc wasn't stopping. His tongue had replaced his fingers, thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, his nose nudging at your clit in a move he must’ve learned from Steven, the cheeky bastard...

“Fuck, Marc, shit, I can’t—”

You couldn’t stop yourself from squirming, but he held you down securely, not allowing you to pull away from the intense stimulation he was still offering.

“Color.”

The sound was muffled, mixed in with the sinful slurping noises he was making, and your cloudy mind took a few moments to process his request, but as his fingers pressed harder into the divot of your hipbone, you threw your head back to respond. Stoplight.

“Green, Marc, but—God, fuck, s’too much, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will.”

Your eyes met his from his position buried in your mound, and the sight of his hungry eyes and the tone of his demand were enough to send you rapidly toppling over the edge yet again. The high-pitched wail that you let out was shameful, but Marc didn’t pause, watching you closely as you came apart on his tongue yet again.

As you came back down to Earth, he finally offered you a moment of reprieve, coming up for air to press a bruising kiss to your lips. The tangy taste of your arousal on his lips made your face flush hot.

“Taste so sweet for me, baby. Gonna give me another?"

You hummed, mind still foggy with bliss, but then his fingers were ghosting over your swollen clit, swiping carefully in circular motions on your tender flesh. Your head lifted to press into his shoulder, and he chuckled wickedly, increasing his pressure as you writhed beneath him.

“That’s it, baby, doin’ so well.”

He praised, hot lips pressed to your ear, and you could feel heat pool in your lower belly, red and hot and seething. Your lip was pulled between your teeth, hard enough that you could taste the metallic tinge of blood on your tongue as Marc sped up his pace. Your fingers wrapped around his arm, trying to pull him away, but his muscles flexed beneath your hold, and the overstimulation quickly made way for yet another stuttering orgasm, your cunt clenching around nothing as your teeth sank into the flesh of Marc’s shoulder, body twitching uncontrollably. You heard him hiss from the bite to his skin, but it quickly evolved into a groan as he turned his head to the side, littering your jaw with open-mouthed kisses as sweat dappled your face.

“There we go. Good girl, baby. Good girl.”

He cooed, finally pulling his hand away from your core. He lifted his slick-coated fingers and pressed them to your lips, and you absent-mindedly obeyed, sucking his digits into your mouth and lapping up the residual arousal from his knuckles. He hummed in approval, your face utterly fucked-out and eyes hazy. He pressed a soft kiss to your nose before sitting upright above you, his hands making quick work of his belt buckle as he pushed his jeans and boxers down simultaneously.

“Think you’re ready for my cock, pretty girl?”

Your legs were still quaking with aftershocks, your thighs sticky with wetness from your prior orgasms and Marc’s saliva. Still, even with exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs, the sight of Marc’s cock standing at full height, ruddy and weeping, was enough to inspire a nod of your head.

“Want you—fuck, Marc, want you inside me, please.”

“Sound so pretty when you beg for me, baby.”

Marc crept forward on his knees, stroking his cock with practiced precision as he slid between your split legs. You felt the head of his member slide experimentally through your folds, nudging at your clit. You bristled, the heat of his hardened length jostling your shot nerves. You nearly cried at the contact, hips pressing into the mattress and away from the pressure, but then the tip notched at your entrance and you wanted nothing more for him to sink into you. Before he pressed further, though, he slipped fingers beneath your chin, turning your head to look at him. Your lip was quivering with want.

“Color?”

He rumbled, brown eyes gentle, and your ass lifted upwards, trying to force his cock further into your awaiting channel, but Marc pulled away completely, drawing a long whine of protest from your chest.

“Easy, baby. Say the word, and I’ll fuck you just how you want. But I need to hear it.”

You swallowed, fingers sinking into his curls, and your voice was hoarse when you spoke.

“Green, Marc. Fuck me, please.”

Your swollen folds made way for his thick length as it sank into you quickly, bottoming out in one swift thrust as Marc groaned throatily.

“Oh, fuck.”

He growled, eyes squeezed shut tight at the sensation of your tight walls fluttering around him. His balls pressed firmly up against your ass, and Marc reached down to grip one of your ankles, hoisting your leg high above your head so the front of your thigh was to your chest. He offered a slow roll of his hips, his cock nestling tightly into you as he snapped them forward.

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby—so fuckin’ tight.”

His pace started to build, and soon he reached for your other leg to hold it above your head, effectively folding you in half. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper within you, the head of his cock prodding at something devastating. You were moaning shamelessly, now, incapable of forming coherent words at this point as Marc continued to pound into you, his teeth bared as his hips pistonned forward.

“Always wanted to fuck you like this, baby. Knew you’d make the prettiest noises for me, knew you’d let me do whatever I wanted to you. You gonna gimme another one, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?”

A sob ripped through you at his words, your hips thrusting upwards to meet his strokes. He had one hand wrapped around each ankle, braced over your head as he railed you into the mattress, the bedframe creaking under the strain. You felt your stomach coiling yet again, but your body was resisting, so overstrung and sensitive that your muscles felt like they were on fire. Still, Marc’s pace was relentless, and you couldn’t stave off the overwhelming need for release as you started to fall apart.

The groan that Marc offered was animalistic as your pussy clenched down on him, hard, throbbing rhythmically as you surrendered yourself to the onslaught of shockwaves that pulsed through your core. You felt faint, weightless, the crux of heat in your center exploding.

“Oh, fuck me, baby, oh my God, did you just—”

His words dissolved into a growl as he pounded into you harder, and it was only as you slowly regained your bearings that you could feel the slickness coating your thighs and Marc’s abdomen—you’d squirted all over his cock.

“Jesus, not gonna last much longer, baby, so fuckin’ good.”

His head was bowed, curls falling into his eyes as he rammed into you, balls slapping against your asscheeks with each thrust. Punched-out moans passed through your lips surreptitiously as you tried to maintain your focus, although your consciousness was slipping away.

Marc’s left hand released your leg and you felt his fingers swirl over your clit again.

“Gonna cum for you, baby, but you gotta gimme one more, first.”

You sobbed, body lurching off the bed as if you were possessed, your knee curling over his shoulder.

“Oh, fuck, Marc, I can’t, s’too much, please, just want you to—”

“Not gonna cum until you do.”

He spoke through gritted teeth, a hardened determination glinting within his crazed eyes. You drank him in—sweat dripping from his curls, nostrils flared, lips pulled up in a snarl, veins in his neck straining beneath the skin with his effort. His pace abruptly switched, his rapid thrusting replaced with a few slow, deep, and fucking bone-rattling plunges within you, the sound of his skin roughly slapping yours filling your ears. The change in tempo was too much, you were spiraling, and with a guttural cry of his name, you felt a blissful numbness erupt from within. Marc threw his head back as you clenched around him once more.

“Oh, fuck, baby, yes, yes, so fuckin’ good, God—”

You watched through half-lidded eyes as he pulled out of you hurriedly, hand reaching down to jerk his cock rapidly as he finally allowed himself to reach his release.

“Fuck, gonna cum all over you, baby, yeah, you ready? You want my cum?”

You nodded, whining greedily, your legs settling down on either side of him as you raised your hips towards him so you could feel his knuckles brush over your pubic bone with each rapid stroke of his cock. The desperation in your eyes is what hurled him over the edge.

“Fuckin’ take it, baby, I’m cummin’ for you, oh, fuck—”

His spend spilled all across your mound, spraying upwards over your stomach and some droplets even landing themselves atop your tits as he continued to jack himself off above you, deep grunts passing through his parted lips with each spurt of cum that he coaxed out. He was panting heavily, watching his white seed ooze across your skin and down his knuckles as he finally slowed the pace of his hand, squeezing one final drop of pearly liquid from the tip as he groaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours to catch his breath. You hummed, unable to open your tired eyes, but the intimacy of the action was welcomed as his lips just barely brushed over your own, a silent ‘thank you’ in the aftermath of an intense moment of passion.

You didn’t think it was possible to feel simultaneously weightless but so heavy at the same time, your limbs sinking into the damp sheets beneath you as you attempted to catch your breath. Marc nestled his face into the crook of your neck—an action vaguely reminiscent of Steven’s habit of nuzzling into you—and you felt him take a slow, deep inhale against your clammy skin, his warm breath fanning out along your collarbone.

You tried to stay awake when you felt his body peel itself from atop yours, but he returned moments later with a cool damp cloth to wipe away the evidence of both of your orgasms. You whined when the cold came in contact with the swollen, sensitive folds of your cunt before he moved up to wipe away his own release—Marc easily shushed you, pressing soft kisses against the skin after he wiped each spot clean. When he was finished, he haphazardly tossed the towel aside, crawling up towards you yet again.

Marc liked to be smothered. If you could take any one thing away from this moment, that’s what you saw—he laid down beside you, flat on his back, before rolling you over on top of him, your face pressed up against his pecs as your body settled between his legs. You hummed at the new position, his arms curling protectively around you, fingers of his right hand playing with your knotted hair. Your ear was pressed up against his chest and you listened to the steady rhythmic thumping of his heart, and you easily could’ve fallen asleep in an instant. Still, you wanted to enjoy the tenderness of the moment for a bit longer.

“You okay?”

Marc finally asked, and the vibrations from his throat reverberated down through his ribcage for you to feel. You breathed in long and deep, the feeling of his soft, warm skin comforting and familiar.

“’M great.”

You whispered, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. There was a small adoring smile on his abused lips, his brown eyes sweeping over your face in a way that only Marc could do—calculating, observant, as if he was looking straight through you. Sometimes, his unusual skill for reading people made you uneasy, but now, you felt completely relaxed beneath his scrutinizing gaze. It would be hard not to, when his eyes glowed as if you’d hung the stars in the sky just for him.

“…was that okay?”

Marc rephrased, and it was only then that you caught on to the insecurity he so desperately tried to mask. The crease between his brows betrayed him, making his concern for you evident. You smiled up at him reassuringly.

“Marc, it was great. You were great. You are great.”

Maybe it was the post-orgasmic bliss that had you feeling sappy, the endorphins boosting you higher into your serenity. The look on Marc’s face was heart-wrenching—the gratitude that shone in his beaming smile, the glow of his face as it lit up with pride, the—dare I say—love, in his eyes, as he gazed upon you.

A comfortable silence settled between you, and the hand that was resting against your back reached down to pull the duvet up and over the both of you, cocooning you in its warmth. You let yourself settle further into Marc’s welcoming embrace, eyes fluttering shut as you let your exhaustion take you. You quickly spoke before you found yourself dozing off.

“So…what’s your typical post-sex ritual look like after this, hm?”

You questioned, lifting your chin slightly to see his face. His eyes blinked open to look at you, and he frowned, pursing his lips.

“Believe it or not…with most of my, uh, hookups, I—uh, I have the tendency to leave in the middle of the night so I’m not there when the girl wakes up—gotta leave ’em wanting more, y’know?”

You laughed breathily at that, but hoped to hide how crestfallen his admission made you feel.

“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll try to sneak out after you fall asleep—”

His arms tightened their grip around you, and there was a sort of pleading look in his big brown eyes as he shook his head.

“No, you don’t have to do that, really, I just thought you should—”

“It’s really okay, Marc, I don’t mind.”

You assured with a shy smile, but he shook his head more firmly this time.

“No. You aren’t just a hookup, and you aren’t just some girl.”

Your lips parted in a silent gasp, eyes searching within his to try to gauge his thoughts. He seemed genuine, insistent. Your heart practically melted in your chest.

“But, I don’t—”

“Please, just stay?”

He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a question, and certainly hadn’t meant to plead—this was more vulnerability than he’d ever displayed to you before, something you’d ached to see for as long as you’d known him. For him to open up to you, to trust you, to finally let you in.

You mustered up whatever strength you had left to lift yourself up and press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. You gazed up at him through tired eyes, face aglow from his apparent affections.

You didn’t give him a verbal response—you didn’t need to. Instead, you settled back in against him, curling your head into his shoulder, pressing your face against the warm skin at the side of his neck. Sleep came easy for both of you—Marc felt lighter having finally let his impermeable facade yield to you, even if just for a second.

Tomorrow, you intended to convince him to drop his guard completely.

POINTS OF CONTENTION: - relinquishing control - embracing uncertainty - asking for help

TREATMENT: - practice submission - express vulnerability - communicate needs

You briefly got déjà vu when Marc opened the door to his apartment for you, a familiar cheeky smirk adorning his handsome features. This time, however, your expression matched his own as you stood on your tiptoes to plant a peck on his lips, pushing past him and into the flat as if you owned the place. He was startled at your forwardness, and he would be lying if he said your surge of confidence didn’t make him slightly uneasy—what had gotten into you?

“Back for more?”

He managed to quip, quirking a brow at you as he shut the door behind him. You approached Gus’ fish tank and tapped the glass a few times to get his attention, leaning over to watch him swim around aimlessly for a few seconds—it gave Marc a perfect view of your ass through your yoga pants as you bent down, and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared unabashedly.

“I can see your reflection in the glass, you asshole.”

You jabbed, a teasing smile lighting up your face as you met his gaze in the mirrored tank, but he didn’t stop his shameless ogling—instead, he watched you with darkened eyes, a wicked grin on his lips.

“At least I don’t have to hide the fact that I stare at your ass every time I see you, anymore.”

Your brows lifted at his confession, and you carefully straightened up, turning to face him at an agonizingly slow pace. Your hands found your hips as you studied him with an amused expression. You stood across from him in challenge.

“So you admit that you’ve checked me out? Even before this little experiment?”

Marc fought hard to keep the smirk off of his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, sizing you up carefully to gauge your seriousness. You were clearly teasing him, but he offered a subject change nonetheless in an effort to avoid the fact that he just admitted he’d been eye-fucking you since the day you’d met.

Instead, his eyes flickered down to the small black paper bag that you had set by your feet, his brow raising in question.

“I see you brought props with you, this time?”

He closed the gap between you with two large strides, bending down to snatch the shopping bag from your feet before you could protest. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he peered inside, but his eyes widened when he realized what you’d brought.

“Jesus, Y/N. You dirty, dirty girl.”

His fingers reached in to pull out a pair of black silky restraints—it didn’t go unnoticed by Marc that the receipt was in the bag and the fabric still had a tag fastened to it. You must’ve bought them just for this occasion.

The expression on his face was practically carnal as he smirked at you, but something about the look in your eyes made him hesitate. You looked up at him shyly, reaching forward to thumb at the fabric before settling your hand into his open palm atop the silk.

“They’re not for me.”

Four words, and Marc was stunned into silence. His face fell, eyes wide as they studied you, expression bemused and slightly fearful. You swore you could actually see his face drain of color.

“We don’t have to, Marc, I promise—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just spring this on you out of the blue, I’m sure it’s not something you’d normally—well, I mean, not that I know what you’re into and everything, but I just thought it might be—”

“Slow down, baby, it’s okay. I just—took me by surprise, s’all. Wasn’t—wasn’t expecting it.”

You looked up at him thoughtfully, now hyperaware of the trepidation in his features. He avoided your eyes.

“Come on.”

You grabbed his wrist softly and guided him over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and gesturing him to follow suit. He sat down beside you and carefully turned to lay out the two black restraints on the mattress behind him. Then, he turned back to you, eyes gentle. You reached over to pull his hands into your lap.

“Marc.”

You started softly, and his eyes flitted to you nervously, an uneasy lopsided smile on his face.

“Listen to me. We really, really don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable. I know it’s—it requires a lot of trust, and—well, I don’t know.”

You fell silent, unsure of what to say or how to proceed. Marc was giving you that familiar calculating stare, taking you in and analyzing every breath you took. You grew impatient with his lack of response.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?”

There was an apprehensive edge to your tone, your eyes round and full of worry, afraid to offend him or make him uncomfortable. You could see the gears turning in his head as he pondered.

“And this... of anything in the world you could possibly want to do with me, to me... this is the one thing you’d choose?”

You carefully nodded your head, squeezing his hands in your own.

“I think—I think this could be good for you. If—if you’re up for it, of course. No pressure.”

He hummed at your reply, before he turned to you with a small smile.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

You blinked once, then twice, surprised at his easy response.

“Wha—really? Are you sure?”

“I trust you.”

Maybe those words were just that—words. But you couldn’t help feel your eyes grow glassy as the gravity of his admission weighed on you, your heart soaring in your chest as you smiled widely at him, eyes crinkling at the corners. The glow radiating from your face made Marc’s shoulders roll back with pride—he would do anything just to see you smile at him like that.

Apparently, that really did mean anything.

You leaned over and kissed him deeply, hand sliding to cup his face as he pulled you against him, sliding you atop his lap easily as he sucked at your bottom lip.

You settled down onto his thighs, your core easing over his hardening bulge as you pressed your front into him, your pebbling nipples brushing against his chest as you kissed him feverishly. His hands held a bruising grip on your hips as you grinded against him, feeling his hold tighten with every brush of your clothed core over his growing erection.

He hummed when you pushed on his shoulders, coaxing him to lay back against the mattress as you pulled his shirt over his head easily. You guided him towards the headboard as you continued to kiss him, settling him carefully onto the pillows in the center of the bed. You drew your head back quickly, your breath catching in your throat as you drank him in—his dark umber curls a stark contrast to the white downy pillows beneath his head, his brown eyes darkening as he watched you with half-lidded eyes, spit-soaked lips parted. You’d never seen a prettier sight—and you knew how to make it even more enticing.

Your fingers traced up his chest and danced across his shoulders. You kissed him to distract from you sneaky movements as you reached behind yourself to retrieve the pair of restraints that had been discarded earlier. You let your nails skate across his nipples, causing him to hiss, before you gently pried his hands off of your hips. You grabbed each wrist carefully, intently watching his reaction as you guided them over the top of his head and towards the headboard.

You grinded down against his cock once more in an effort to relax his body—he groaned quietly, and you reached for one of the restraints, pulling his left arm straight out to the side and carefully winding the fabric around the bedpost before reaching to fasten it around his wrist. You watched his jaw ripple as you carefully looped the silk over his skin, tightening it just slightly to prevent his hand from slipping out. You tugged at the fabric lightly, testing its resistance, before you leaned back down to peck his lips.

“That okay?”

You asked carefully, nose brushing against his, and he squeezed his eyes shut, tugging against the binding before offering you a soft nod. You smiled at him graciously before repeating the action on his right arm, successfully rendering him incapacitated beneath you, his arms spread wide on either side of his body. You allowed yourself to draw back once more, the sight of him splayed out atop the mattress, completely at your mercy, caused a wave of arousal to rush straight between your legs. He must’ve felt the clenching of your thighs from where they caged his hips in, because he let out a breathy laugh.

“You like this, don’t you?”

His voice was low and hoarse, and you kissed him again, nodding against his lips.

“Yeah, Marc, I do. So pretty for me.”

You felt the warm huff of air that he let out at your praise, and you knew he secretly loved your verbal affirmations, even if he’d never admit it to you. You offered him one last kiss before slowly dragging your face back—his head followed your backwards movement, chasing the feel of your mouth against his, but he jostled at the feeling of his movement being restricted. His eyes opened suddenly at the sensation, as if he was surprised to find the restraints actually lived up to their name. You couldn’t help the tiny grin on your lips as he accustomed himself to his limited range of movement—you could feel the tightness in his muscles, his biceps flexing and tensing as he mindlessly fought to gain control back.

“Easy—you’re okay, I’m right here.”

You soothed, running your hands up his torso as his abdominal muscles contracted beneath your fingers. There was sweat beading at his hairline, his jaw grinding rhythmically as he finally opened his eyes to look up at you, forcing himself to inhale a steady breath in an effort to calm himself down. Your fingers rubbed at the tension in his shoulders and you felt him soften under your touch, becoming pliant beneath you as he allowed himself to settle back into the mattress, finally coming to terms with his current situation. You rewarded him with a kiss, leaning yourself forward so your front was pressed to his.

“Before we start, I need you to promise me something.”

His eyes followed you when you sat back upright, and he nodded for you to continue. You breathed.

“Marc. You have to swear to me that you will use the safe word if you need to.”

He rolled his eyes in response, but you squeezed your thighs together in response, putting an uncomfortable pressure against his hips. He glared at you, but you gave him a stern look.

“I’m serious, Marc. I don’t want you to think—to not use it just because you want to make me happy, or because you wanna seem like a big tough guy. You do make me happy, and I know you’re tough, regardless of whether or not you choose to tell me to stop. Okay?”

He could hear the sincerity in your tone, the genuine concern lacing your words. He swallowed. He wasn't going to lie and say it wouldn’t be hard for him to safeword—he didn’t like admitting defeat, showing weakness or cracking under the pressure. But this wasn’t some mission or fistfight with an adversary, he reminded himself—this was you. He was safe, and he trusted you, and he was supposed to enjoy this. Finally, he nodded at you, and you mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before pulling yourself off of him completely.

He watched you like a hawk, eyes trained on you intently, analyzing your every move in anticipation. You carefully reached for his waistband, and he obliged, lifting his hips from the bed to allow you to undress him. You pulled his briefs down in the same motion, discarding Marc’s final two articles of clothing and leaving him bare before you.

His cock was at full mast, resting atop his navel as he drew in slow, deliberate breaths, trying not to feel bashful beneath your scrutinizing gaze. You were still trying to fathom the fact that you had this Adonis of a man splayed out in front of you, completely surrendering himself to you.

He really had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.

“Color?”

You asked, kneeling back on your heels from your position beside him, one hand resting on his abs, just above where the head of his cock was patiently waiting. He breathed out a chuckle.

“You haven’t even done anything yet.”

You raised a brow, and at your persistence, he offered a roll of his eyes.

“Green.”

“Good.”

You smiled, fingers sliding down from his stomach to ghost over the tender skin of his shaft, causing a shiver to crawl up his spine. You were careful to take note of just how his body reacted to each ministration—the way his breath hitched when you finally wrapped your hand around the base, the barely-audible grunt when your thumb swiped the bead of precum from his slit.

You removed your hand briefly just to spit into your palm before you were back on him, beginning a slow and gentle pace of stroking him. He hummed at the motion, his heels digging into the mattress as he threw his head back into the pillows, fingers wrapped around each restraint tightly to give himself something to grip. Your other hand reached over to fondle his balls, and his hips jerked just slightly at the added stimulation.

“S’that feel good, baby?”

You purred, your hand gradually picking up speed as your jerked him. He groaned lowly, nodding at your question.

“Shit, yeah.”

You smirked, carefully shifting so you were kneeling in between his legs, lowering yourself down to lay on your stomach. He watched you closely, bracing himself as you leant forward and suckled one of his heavy balls into your mouth, your other hand continuing its steady pace.

You hummed around his sack and he grunted, abdominal muscles flexing as you popped it out of your mouth and traded it for his other bulb, tongue swirling around the flesh and listening to his small moans of pleasure.

He was trying to stay quiet, you noticed. You didn’t press him on the issue—you knew he wouldn’t be quiet for much longer.

You pushed yourself up and licked a long stripe from base to tip, tongue flicking over his frenulum which caused his hips to quake. You offered a few kitten licks to his slit, tasting the salty precum as you continued to stroke him steadily.

“Fuck, baby—just like that.”

He whispered, eyes squeezed shut at the sensations. He was holding himself back—you wanted him to fall apart.

You carefully drew the head of his cock past your lips, bobbing your head up and down over just the tip, matching your pace to that of your hand. He growled, and your eyes flitted up to watch his biceps strain as he tugged on his bindings, desperately wanting to bury his fingers in your hair. You sank your head lower, taking him deeper, lewd choking noises escaping your lips as you swallowed him down. His hips were weakly thrusting upward, now, his feet planted into the mattress to seek leverage in a sorry effort to fuck into the heat of your mouth. You didn’t stop him—you let him cling to the sliver of control he was desperately seeking, removing your hand to sink your head down completely, allowing him to thrust his cock into the back of your throat with his shallow movements.

“Oh, fuck, baby, fuck.”

He moaned, and you could see the muscles of his stomach clenching as you reached to fondle his balls again. You were breathing in carefully through your nose as he continued to abuse your throat, his length sliding in and out of your mouth sloppily. One sharp thrust caused you to gag and he let out a deep groan from somewhere in his ribcage—you could feel his balls tightening up, thighs flexing.

“Yes, baby, gonna cum in that pretty little mouth, yes—”

You sat up abruptly with a gasp, pulling your body from his completely as his limbs involuntarily jerked beneath you, his back arching at the sudden loss of contact. He yelped, and you could see veins bulging in his arms as he harshly pulled against the restraints.

“Jesus fuck!”

He cried out, hips falling back down into the mattress, defeated. You sat silently, watching as he tried to catch his breath. He blinked the bleariness from his eyes to fix his stare on you—there was a somewhat sadistic shine in your gaze as you met his eyes challengingly. When you didn’t back down, you were surprised when he let out a bark of a laugh.

“So this is your game, sweetheart? You gonna edge me? Really?”

He was trying to intimidate you—you could see right through him. He was mocking you, hoping to berate you into submission, into backing down. It wouldn’t work.

When you didn’t respond, he shook his head lightly, feigning composure as he lazily closed his eyes.

“Go on—have your fun.”

He offered, a small smile on his lips. You felt anger briefly flare up inside you, but you quelled it down with logic—you were in control, right now. You had all the power.

It didn’t matter how disciplined Marc’s psyche was—his body betrayed him. It told the truth. Your hand reached back up towards his shaft, and his cock jumped beneath your touch, thighs tensing just slightly. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from giggling with satisfaction—Marc’s face was set into a look of quiet concentration, lips pulled into a straight line.

You started again, the same way you had before, with your spit-soaked hand slowly escalating until your lips joined in. His noises were subdued—they came from deep within his chest, escaping through barely parted lips only when he was powerless to stop them. He writhed beneath you, responsive to your touch, and when the telltale signs of his approaching orgasm began revealing themselves again, you ceased your movement.

“FUCK!”

He yelled, back arching off the bed as he attempted to curl into a sitting position, but he was snapped back into complacency by the fabric bound to his wrists. There were veins bulging in his neck as he seethed, sweat beginning to bead along his hairline. You blinked up at him innocently as he glared at you, eyes dark and filled with disdain.

“So fuckin’ pleased with yourself, huh, baby? This what you wanted? To rile me up? God, if I wasn’t tied up right now, I’d—”

“You’d what?”

He blinked at your interruption, your voice showcasing your defiance.

“What’re you gonna do, Marc? Nothing. You’re not gonna do anything. You’re gonna sit back, and fucking take it, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

His jaw clenched down tightly, his face practically trembling with rage. His nostrils flared as he stared at you, trying to win the silent battle between you, in complete denial of the fact that you were completely in control. He wasn’t backing down, unwilling to admit that he was powerless—so you reached forward and scratched your nails down the length of his shaft. He shouted in protest, hips jolting backwards to retreat from the uncomfortable sensation, and he growled lowly in his throat before sagging back into the mattress—his eyes were still on you, but his lips were sealed shut.

“That’s what I thought.”

You antagonized, leaning down to take his cock back into your mouth. It was taking increasingly smaller increments of time to get him to the edge, and you continued—once, then twice more. On the third round, he’d nearly lost it, but you squeezed around the base of his cock tightly to force the orgasm to dissipate as it peaked.

“You fuckin’ bitch.”

He snapped, and the words seemed to surprise him just as much as they surprised you. A heat of the moment utterance, offered in a second of desperation—but he didn’t take it back. Maybe you should feel hurt—instead, you felt pride swell inside you as you stared down at him wickedly.

“Such mean words from a guy who can’t even see me through his tears.”

It was true—there were tears streaming down either side of his face, eyes red and puffy as he fought viciously against your torture. He shook his head at you, overwhelmed with anger, but he couldn’t hold back the sob that practically pulled itself from his lungs when you gave a single lick up his shaft.

“Oh, fuck you, fuck—”

“You can cum whenever you want, Marc. I’m not stopping you.”

You tone was even and steady, expression blank as you studied him. His brows furrowed, his eyes suspicious as his breathing slowed again. You smiled coyly at him, innocently, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips—he didn’t kiss you back. He just watched you as you carefully resumed your position between his legs, waiting to hear your stipulation.

“You just have to beg for it.”

Marc’s venomous laugh was replaced with a long whine as you took his cock in your hands once more, stroking him a few times before simply holding him there. He sneered at you.

“I don’t beg.”

“Then you don’t cum.”

You shrugged easily, releasing his throbbing member from your grasp and allowing it to drop back down against his stomach. You could see every muscle in his body fighting for release—his heels digging into the mattress, his arms continuously straining against their restraints. You tutted at him condescendingly, your eyes mocking sympathy as you stood from the bed. He studied you carefully as you began to remove your clothes until your were completely naked. You rejoined him on the bed, loving the way his eyes turned ravenous as he admired your body.

“If you wanna torture yourself, Marc, that’s your choice.”

You purred, crawling up until you were straddling him. You watched the way his breath hitched when you were hovering over his cock, and you felt it jump beneath your cunt—but instead of dropping down, you crept further upwards until you were straddling his ribcage. He looked at you, confused.

“So what are you gonna do?”

His voice was gravelly and hoarse, raw from the moans you had been pulling from him. You leaned down and shoved your tongue into his mouth—he whimpered at the intimacy, but you pulled away soon after.

“I’m gonna ride your face, and you’re gonna be a good boy and make me cum on your tongue.”

The whine that he let out was carnal—you’d never heard anything like it in your life, and Marc might’ve been embarrassed if it weren’t for the painful arousal that was burning a hole through the bottom of his stomach. He tilted his head back as you began to position yourself over him, lips already parting in anticipation of tasting you, but you paused, your eyes turning gentle. Your hand reached down to stroke through his damp hair, and he pressed his head into your touch.

“Color?”

You whispered, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat at he swallowed. He breathed in once, then twice, before meeting your eyes again.

“Green.”

You settled your knees on either side of his head, your folds already soaking from your time toying with Marc—you shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath on your awaiting cunt, and with trembling thighs, you slowly and carefully lowered yourself onto his mouth.

You lurched forward at his eagerness, his tongue immediately breaching your entrance and slurping up the arousal that was flooding your pussy. You yelped in surprise, arms reaching forward to grip the headboard as you tried to keep most of your weight off of him, allowing your face to just barely skate over his features.

He mumbled something into your core, and you lifted yourself from him in concern, worried that you'd hurt him.

“What?”

You asked for clarification, brows furrowed, but when you met his eyes from between your legs, they were dark and gleaming savagely.

“I said, sit the fuck down.”

He growled again, and you could feel the headboard bend as he strained against the fabric on his wrists, obviously wanting to grab your waist and pull you down onto his mouth with full force. You let out a breathy laugh before you eased your way back onto him, allowing yourself to relax more against his face. The thick muscle of his tongue immediately began fucking into you and it wasn’t long before you were grinding against his face, his nose rubbing up against your bundle of nerves and his mouth savoring your juices. Your head was thrown back in ecstasy, and Marc watched you from his position between your legs as you came apart on his tongue, quiet cries of his name leaving your lips as your rode out your high on his mouth.

Marc greedily lapped up all you had to offer, and he almost whined in disapproval when you began picking yourself up off of him—but then you were turning around, and he got a perfect view of your perfect ass as you slowly settled your cunt back down to his mouth and—

Fuck. He nearly cried into your pussy when he felt your lips attach themselves to his cock, and he jostled against you, hips jolting upwards of their own volition. He squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his head back, trying to fight the orgasm that he was already teetering on the edge of. You hand came up and squeezed tightly around the base of his cock, helping stave off his climax.

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

You hissed, and Marc gulped before diving straight back into you cunt, his lips wrapping around your puffy clit as he suckled it into his mouth and flicked over it with his tongue. You moaned, you fingers beginning to stroke his cock again. When you turned your attention back to his length, however, his mouth immediately stopped its movement. You sank against him, rolling your eyes in theatrical annoyance.

“Jesus, you really can’t multitask, can you?”

“Y/N.”

He spoke your name lowly and with a warning edge, and you craned your neck to look at him—his head was peaking out from behind your asscheek, eyes desperately searching yours. You could see he was struggling to maintain his composure, but he kept his voice level and steady.

“I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop.”

He voice cracked at the very end of his statement, but you appreciated his honesty with you. You swiftly removed your hand from where it was wrapped around him and he let out a long sigh, steeling himself before attaching himself to your clit once more.

Your second orgasm came easily, creeping up and washing over you without warning as Marc continued to lavish your clit with his tongue, the obscene noises he was making only adding to your arousal. He slowed his movements as you came down from your high, lapping at your release as you slowly pulled you cunt away from his mouth. You pulled yourself off of him completely, kneeling at his side and pressing a sweet, gentle kiss against his lips. His face was coated in your slick and his eyes were alight with a sort of lovesickness, as if he’d completely forgotten the torture you’d been putting him through simply because he got to watch you fall apart on his tongue. You pressed your forehead against his for a moment before you swung your leg over his hip, finally settling yourself where he needed you most.

Anticipation flickered in his dark brown eyes, his body tensing beneath you as you reached between your legs to stroke his cock, using your dripping arousal as lube to give him a few tentative strokes. He hissed, his hips jumping at the touch, but he immediately froze when you pressed the head into your entrance. He held his breath.

“I’m gonna ride you now, okay?”

You asked, although it was less of a question and more of a statement. He nodded vigorously, eyes squeezed shut and head turned to the side as he braced himself for the feeling of your hot channel swallowing him whole.

“Marc.”

You probed softly, and he winked one eye open, looking up at you where you were paused, right in the moment before sheer bliss. You eyed him warily.

“Color?”

He smiled softly up at you, more relaxed than he’d been this whole interaction—finally, finally relinquishing his control and allowing you to take the reins.

“Green.”

The duet of moans that filled the room was intoxicating as you slowly eased yourself down onto his rock-hard length, the stretch offering a sting that was just painful enough to be pleasurable. Marc’s head was thrown back into the pillows as he began to ramble incomprehensibly.

“Oh, God, oh, fuck yes, so fuckin’ good, fuck—”

You braced yourself by planting your arms against his sturdy chest, raising up your hips until just the tip remained before slamming yourself back down, burying him to the hilt within you. A wrecked sob sounded from his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, God, I can’t—”

You settled into a steady pace, angling your hips backwards just slightly so his cock rutted up against that place deep inside you that sent you reeling. You keened, grinding back and forth against him as he moaned wantonly, knuckles turning white as he pulled on the restraints with every ounce of his strength. You orgasm was rapidly approaching, and with each careful plunge of his cock into you, you felt the coil tightening.

“Fuck, Marc, gonna cum on your cock, baby.”

You whimpered, throwing your head back as your walls clenched down around him. You must’ve blacked out for a moment, your vision going bright white as pleasure speared through you—when you regained your bearings and sensation over your limbs, your ears were blessed with a sound you weren’t sure you’d get to hear.

Marc was falling apart.

“Please, oh, God, Y/N, baby, please let me cum for you, I can’t—can’t hold it anymore, please, please, please, baby, please let me cum, pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

There were sobs ripping themselves from his lips as tears flooded his eyes and streamed down his cheeks, the muscles of his abdomen clenched so tightly you thought he might sprain something. The fluttering of your tight walls against him was unbearable, truly torturous—he couldn’t do it anymore.

His eyes blinked open to watch you as your hands crept up the length of his strained arms, fingers deftly untying the knots that held him hostage to the bed. His arms fell limp at his sides when released from their hold, and he looked up at you with wide eyes, glassy with tears.

You pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Been so good for me, baby. Go ahead and take what you want, Marc, it’s yours. Cum for me.”

Something snapped inside of him. A vein throbbed in his forehead as his hands flew to your hips, planting you firmly against him as he began to thrust up into you at a rapid pace, his hips slamming against your thighs loudly and roughly. You yelped in surprise at his sudden burst of energy, and he was staring intently at the place where his cock was splitting you open, hips relentlessly pistonning upwards into you as he slammed your body down against him to meet each thrust.

You didn’t expect to cum again, but the harsh drag of his cock inside of you as his hands grounded you firmly sent you hurling across the edge, your cunt clamping down on his aching length as you pulled him across the threshold with you.

“Oh fuck, yes, yes, gonna fill you up, baby, cummin’ so hard, fuuuck—”

Each harsh pump upwards was punctuated with a grunt as he spilled inside of you, his cock pumping you full of his white hot seed as he continued pounding into you relentlessly. Even as you came down from the climax that had blindsided you, and even after he’d completely emptied himself inside of your slick walls, he continued rutting up into you, his face contorted in a look of pain and determination as he gritted his teeth.

“Woah, Marc, hey, hey, slow down—”

You urged, reached to wrap your fingers around his wrists from where they were still firmly attached to your waist, the wet sounds of his cock still pumping in and out of you filling the room. His eyes finally looked up to you, the haziness clearing as your worried face settled on him.

“It’s okay, Marc, you’re okay.”

You assured, and he finally let your full weight rest down onto him, his body slowly rolling to a halt as the aftershocks of his intense pleasure pulsed through his limbs, blood pumping loudly in his ears. He was breathing heavily, his heart beating against his ribcage harshly, but his eyes watched you as you smiled down at him, reaching forward to cup his jaw in one hand as the other ran through his sweaty hair.

“There we go. There you are. There’s my handsome boy.”

All at once, he collapsed into a fit of sobs again, sitting up to pull you against his chest impossibly tight as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt your heart break as you coddled him, one hand stroking the back of his head and the other rubbing soothing patterns into the bare skin of his back. Years and years of internalized vulnerability spilled out of him in your embrace, and you held him there until his stuttering cries turned into shaky exhales, his face buried in the crook of his neck. He fell back into the pillows, pulling you down on top of him and keeping you snugly pulled against his body.

His cock was still nestled deep inside of you, and you could feel Marc’s cum leaking out and creating a stickiness between your thighs and atop his hips. When you shifted to move, he tightened his hold, his breath wavering just slightly.

“Please, don’t. Just—stay with me. Like this. For just awhile longer. Please.”

He whispered against your temple, begging for this brief moment of reprieve, of absolution, of solace. You sank into his chest, breathing in his heady scent and allowing yourself to indulge in the intimacy of this moment, too—a moment of comfort, of safety, of resolve.

Marc had one final thought before sleep overtook him.

Is this what being okay feels like?

TAGLIST: @kezibear143 @gingermous @josephquinncore @steven-grants-world @am-3-thyst @fanofverymanythings @vaneyvfs @theboggyman @belladri @roserfz27 @nowayhomerry @justanotherkpopstanlol @bagsy-not-it @elles-mind-palace @pimosworld @winterbiip @moonmoonboys @icuminurbutt @spxctorsslxt @fandomqueen74 @freerangesweets @wumpsquill @wordacadabra @lunaleah @hornkneeforbucky @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[obsidian-pages777]

LILITH IN YOUR ASTROLOGY CHART

Black Moon Lilith's placement in the astrological houses can provide insights into where you may experience deep-seated fears, unresolved issues, or intense desires. Here's a brief overview of how Black Moon Lilith may manifest in each house:

First House (Self, Identity): Black Moon Lilith here may indicate struggles with self-image, asserting individuality, or feeling comfortable in your own skin. There could be a tendency to hide aspects of yourself from others or to project a false persona.

In the first house, Black Moon Lilith bestows an intriguing magnetism upon the individual, giving them a presence that's palpably intense yet difficult to define. Their physical appearance often carries an unconventional quality, standing out amidst more conventional norms. They exude a rebellious aura, unmistakably signaling their disposition as disruptors and nonconformists.

2. Second House (Values, Resources): Issues related to self-worth, material possessions, and financial security may be highlighted. There might be a fear of lack or a compulsive need to possess or control resources.

Moving to the second house, Black Moon Lilith influences the native's financial instincts, endowing them with an intuitive understanding of what holds potential for prosperity and what doesn't. Despite their insightful judgments, their inclination towards sensual indulgence and defiance might lead to financial missteps if not managed cautiously.

3. Third House (Communication, Learning): Communication may be intense or secretive, with a tendency towards manipulation or power struggles in interactions with siblings, neighbors, or within your immediate environment.

In the third house, Black Moon Lilith influences communication and social connections, shaping the individual's speech with a provocative edge that can be perceived as confrontational or brash. They possess a seductive charm in their expression, yet their associations may often veer towards contentious or unconventional circles, challenging societal norms in their choice of company.

4. Fourth House (Home, Family): Black Moon Lilith here could indicate unresolved issues within the family or a deep-seated fear of abandonment. There may be a desire for emotional security but difficulty in achieving it due to underlying trust issues.

Moving to the fourth house, Black Moon Lilith casts a shadow over the native's home and familial environment, potentially introducing elements of instability or secrecy within the domestic sphere. Family dynamics may deviate from societal expectations, with the maternal figure possibly embodying qualities that defy traditional notions of motherhood. This placement may also heighten the likelihood of experiencing single parenthood or being raised by a single parent.

5. Fifth House (Creativity, Romance): Issues surrounding self-expression, creativity, and romantic relationships may be prominent. There could be a fear of rejection or abandonment in love affairs, leading to intense, passionate encounters.

In the fifth house, Black Moon Lilith bestows the individual with a profound capacity to evoke intense emotional reactions from others, spanning a spectrum from desire to anger and everything in between. Their self-expression tends to provoke strong responses, reminiscent of the disruptive influence associated with Aquarius in this house. However, relationships tend to be tumultuous and volatile for those with Lilith here.

6. Sixth House (Health, Work): Concerns about health, work, and daily routines may be influenced by subconscious fears or hidden desires. There may be a tendency towards self-sabotage or difficulty in maintaining a healthy work-life balance.

Moving to the sixth house, Black Moon Lilith's presence marks the individual as an outsider in their work environment, though the reasons may be elusive to others. In more extreme scenarios, they might even engage in covert activities like corporate espionage. While health issues may arise, they typically manifest as physical characteristics that make them stand out rather than serious ailments.

7. Seventh House (Partnerships, Relationships): Black Moon Lilith here could indicate power struggles or issues of control within partnerships. There may be a fear of intimacy or a tendency to attract intense, transformative relationships.

In the seventh house, Black Moon Lilith shapes the individual as a complex social figure, thriving in environments characterized by power dynamics and unconventional social norms. Their associations may raise eyebrows among mainstream circles, and they may be drawn to partners who are adept at concealing their true nature, leading to relationships marked by secrecy and potential betrayal.

8. Eighth House (Transformation, Intimacy): This placement intensifies Black Moon Lilith's influence, highlighting issues related to power dynamics, sexuality, and shared resources. There may be a fear of vulnerability or a tendency towards obsessive behavior in intimate relationships.

Transitioning to the eighth house, Black Moon Lilith intensifies themes of power, sexuality, and the occult, fostering a penchant for experiences that border on the extreme. For some, pleasure is intertwined with pain, and they may be drawn to secret societies or occult practices as a means of enhancing their personal power. However, this placement can also bring about significant challenges and hardships throughout life.

9. Ninth House (Philosophy, Higher Learning): Beliefs and ideologies may be challenged or influenced by subconscious fears or desires. There may be a tendency towards skepticism or a deep curiosity about the occult and hidden knowledge.

In the ninth house, Black Moon Lilith instills a drive for intellectual exploration and a thirst for knowledge that may lead the individual down unconventional paths or towards questionable sources of information. They may encounter challenges discerning between authentic wisdom and deceptive teachings, yet possess the potential to become influential figures in academia or pioneers in their chosen fields, despite facing initial resistance and opposition.

10. Tenth House (Career, Public Image): Black Moon Lilith here could indicate struggles with authority or issues related to public recognition. There may be a fear of failure or a compulsion to achieve success at any cost.

Transitioning to the tenth house, Black Moon Lilith's influence makes the individual a formidable presence in their career and public life, often eliciting fear and animosity from society at large. Whether they rise to prominence in fields like fashion or military leadership, their journey resembles a narrative where moral distinctions blur, and perceptions of heroism or villainy are subjective. They are willing to employ unorthodox methods to achieve their goals, challenging conventional notions of success and power.

11. Eleventh House (Friendships, Goals): Issues surrounding social circles, group dynamics, and personal aspirations may be influenced by hidden motivations or unresolved conflicts. There may be a fear of betrayal or a tendency to manipulate social connections.

In the eleventh house, Black Moon Lilith instills a sense of grandiosity and a belief in one's capacity to shape the course of history. However, this can lead to tendencies towards egotism and delusions of grandeur, potentially leading individuals to engage in deceptive behaviors under the guise of serving the greater good. Such actions may result in community backlash, as the eleventh house is associated with societal outcasts, mirroring Lilith's own nature.

12. Twelfth House (Subconscious, Spirituality): Black Moon Lilith here heightens psychic sensitivity and may indicate a deep connection to the unconscious mind or the spiritual realm. There could be a tendency towards escapism or self-destructive behavior if not channeled constructively.

Transitioning to the twelfth house, Black Moon Lilith grants the individual a subtle yet potent ability to exert influence over the collective consciousness while keeping their intentions hidden. They possess intuitive gifts, enabling them to discern others' motives and navigate interpersonal dynamics with ease. However, romantic relationships may prove challenging, often fraught with frustration and complexities reminiscent of the archetype of the mistress, regardless of the individual's gender or relationship status.

Conclusion

It's important to remember that Black Moon Lilith's influence can vary depending on other aspects in your birth chart and how it interacts with your natal planets. Additionally, while it may represent darker or more hidden aspects of the self, working with these energies consciously can lead to profound personal growth and transformation.

[etherealising]

chapter four | to burden natalie berzatto

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣ |

pairing: platonic!natalie berzatto x f!reader | slight carmen berzatto x f!reader | slight the bear crew x f!reader | male!oc x f!reader |

summary: your lack of competent decision-making after mikey’s death puts natalie in a compromisng position.

warning(s): substance abuse | overdose | grief | self-sabotage | angst | humor as coping mechanism | one mention of ativan | unintentional self-harm | blood | hospitals | scars | mention of treatment centers | rehab | recovery | thoughts of relapsing | appreciation of natalie berzatto | avoidance of grief | selfishness | memory loss | unhealthy grieving mechanisms | PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANYTHING!

wc: 8.1k

please remeber you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any warnings trigger you DO NOT READ!

The smooth music filtered out of the record player, a rich voice singing through the house painting the atmosphere with a calm vibe. The two occupants were gathered in the living room, sifting through the last of the boxes that contained small decorations and keepsakes. Discussing what would look best where and what should have been left behind in the move.

You looked over your shoulder to check on Nat, her sudden silence cause for concern. Circling over to her you realized what had stolen the words from her lips. You maneuvered to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder at the framed photo in her hands, the two of you silently reminiscing.

You placed your head on her shoulder as she let out a quiet sniffle, her emotions heightened due to her condition. “You looked so beautiful that night,” you let out a quiet laugh before moving to stand next to Nat, eyes still focused on the framed Polaroid in her grip.

It had been a year and it still wasn’t easy to look at any pictures of Mikey without feeling like your chest would cave in. You hadn’t seen this particular picture since his passing, the grief too much, all memories painting your west coast apartment shoved into a nondescript box.

You understood now why it was so important to label your boxes when moving. If the box in front of Nat had some type of label on it, you knew for sure it already would’ve been shoved into the dark recesses of your closet.

“You can just put that one back in the box,” you left Nat’s side to continue going through your box, pulling out the book designated to sit on your coffee table.

Natalie watched you from her side of the living room, a small scowl painting her face as she watched you so easily disregard a memory that had once been so special to you. She looked back down at the picture, your bright smile staring back at her as Mikey and Richie leaned in to kiss your cheeks. A fond memory of the three of you the night of your senior prom.

Looking back at you one last time Nat let out a sigh before walking over to the mantle and setting it on the corner, visible for everyone to see. She understood how much Mikey’s death affected you, but there was no way you could heal from the hurt if you never allowed yourself to live in the uncomfortability of grief. It was something you had to want for yourself.

Nat had half the mind to keep digging through the box, eyes catching on another memory. Not wanting to sour the first night in your new home, she replaced the cover, doing her best to act as though she wasn’t curious about the box of memories.

The doorbell rang as you were looking for a place for the picture of you and your mom at your college graduation. Carefully sitting it on your coffee table you made your way to the door making sure to grab your wallet on the way. You opened the door to see the pizza delivery person standing there, giving them the money and a tip before thanking them.

“Oh that smells delicious,” you laughed as Nat followed behind you to your decent-sized kitchen. The two of you grab plates and a slice of pizza before heading to your couch.

Setting your plate on the coffee table, you left to quickly grab two wine glasses and the sparkling cider Natalie and Pete bought you as a housewarming gift. Stopping to grab a bottle of water from the fridge for Nat just in case the cider upset her stomach before taking your seat on the plush couch.

“I’m happy you’re home Baby.” Your eyes met Nat’s before you moved to pour yourself a healthy amount of sparkling cider, ignoring Nat’s laugh at the full glass in your hands. You raise your glass in a mock toast, at least one of you was happy that you were back.

“I guess it's good to be back. Nice to be around people that care about me,” the grateful smile sent Nat’s way as a form of thank you.

Natalie deserved more than a pathetic smile and both of you knew it.

You had been relatively alright after Mikey’s death, which came as a surprise to everyone. Your impromptu stay in Chicago after the funeral was a way for you to keep an eye on Natalie and Donna, occasionally helping Richie at The Beef when you could.

But you had to return to your own life eventually, and when you did shit spiraled out of control for you.

People always drone on and on about the five stages of grief and how it affects everyone differently, and you never thought that statement to be more true than when you stepped foot in your apartment upon your return from Chicago. Grief is supposed to come and go, you were doing everything that everyone was telling you to do. Following all the steps, checking all the boxes. Forcing yourself to try and heal, to feel your emotions as much as you would allow yourself to.

But at the end of the day, it was just you, an apartment full of memories, a voicemail you were too scared to ever listen to, and the shadow of your grief following behind you.

You experienced all the denial, anger, bargaining, and depression and you waited and hoped for the acceptance to come. But all that ever came was the cycle of grief replaying in your life like a bad dream.

You had thrown yourself into your work, anything to forget about the pain Mikey’s ghost left behind. And when your psychiatrist recommended a prescription to aid with your anxiety, you accepted. Anything to escape the shadow of a man you once knew appearing in your apartment on late nights.

But then the prescription wasn’t enough, and the alcohol you once used to numb everything had lost its edge, your days just turned into functioning as best you could. And then there were times you couldn’t even remember the previous day, the last five minutes, falling asleep on the couch.

You had become dependent; dependent on the alcohol and the drugs, and the way they made things all better for a short time.

And then you had woken up in the hospital one day, with no memories of how you got there, no care for what happened to you.

The figure in the chair next to you helped you to escape the fog in your brain. The woman you had known your whole life looking down at you with a tear-stained face, her hand tightly clutched around yours, her presence all the more confusing.

The silence in the room was too loud for you as you just watched the blonde, the lack of emotion on your face breaking the woman down even more. When the doctor came in to explain what happened it shocked you. Not because of the severity of the situation, but because you couldn’t remember a thing.

The theory was that you had been mixing prescription drugs and alcohol for some time, a truth you already knew and were purposely partaking in.

You were at your apartment after work winding down from the long day, pregaming for a night out with your co-workers. The Ativan you had taken earlier at work already put you at ease. You were trying to get to your patio for some reason but had trouble with the sliding glass door.

Too inebriated to unlock it you had essentially thrown yourself against the glass until it finally gave way to the weight of your body and you ended up face down covered in glass and the pool of your blood.

Not fazed by your injuries you collected yourself, glass and all. Grabbing your keys from the counter leaving to whatever destination you had in mind. Somewhere between removing yourself from the mess of your ruined sliding door and stumbling out into the hallway, you swallowed two more pills.

According to the reports, a neighbor found the mess of your body in the hallway, making it a mere few inches from your door before your body succumbed to the deadly cocktail swirling inside you.

In October of 2022, 8 months after Michael’s death; you would overdose.

You were broken from the haze of memories as you felt a dip in the couch. Natalie came to sit right next to you head resting on your shoulder, you gently laid your head on top of hers. You owed Nat your life.

A quiet sniffle left you, losing the battle to keep your emotions under wraps. “You’ve done so much for me Sug, and I…I’m sorry if I haven’t shown you enough appreciation.” You felt Nat’s arms wrap around you, squeezing you into a side hug as the two of you sat in each other’s presence.

It was no secret that without Natalie and Pete, you might not have been experiencing this moment. You for sure wouldn’t have gotten your shit together if you were still all alone on the West Coast. Nat had gone out of her way to find the best treatment facility on the East Coast for you, it had been decided that you would make the move back to Chicago when you were released.

So while you were away facing the consequences of the darkest moments of your life. Nat was at home picking up the pieces of your life while also trying to keep hers intact, not that you realized or cared back then.

Nat and Pete sold the family home that was still in your mom's name, nobody needed to ask to know that it wasn’t healthy for you to live in or across the street from a museum of memories. The couple got you a good deal on a quaint home not too far from them, the leftover money put towards the rest of your savings.

Natalie Berzatto, a miracle worker in your eyes had somehow pulled strings to get you an interview with the Tribune. So yeah, you owed Nat a lot more than placating smiles and cheap pizza.

“Are you sure you’re ready for tomorrow?” You shifted positions at Nat’s question, the two of you now sitting criss-cross applesauce, facing each other on the couch. You gave a small nod, fingers playing with your fuzzy socks.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” you let out a small laugh. “I can’t expect you and Pete to babysit me forever.” You smiled up at Natalie, the prospect of writing again caused a sense of excitement to stir within you. It felt like the only thing you had left, the only thing you were still good at. Although you had almost completely fucked up your life, you still had your writing, and that was a start.

“Maybe we can meet up for lunch after?” You didn’t want to celebrate too soon, you hadn’t even got a job yet, but the idea of a lunch date with Nat sounded like the best form of indulgence you had allowed yourself in a while.

The night continued with the two of you talking, Sugar doing her best to catch you up on all that you missed sans any mention of a certain blue-eyed baby brother she had. As the night began winding down the two of you cleaned up the mess of your dinner, before you sent Nat on her way with promises to fill her in after your interview tomorrow.

Making sure your kitchen was cleaned to your liking, you made your way into your room to begin settling in for the night. A knit crew neck you had meant to return to its rightful owner once upon a time, becoming the basis of your pajamas after a relaxing shower.

Settling into bed you couldn’t help but lie awake, mind racing with all the different scenarios that could play out tomorrow. This was your first night alone in your new home and the reality of just how alone you were slowly began to sink in. You knew Nat would always be there for you if need be, but she had her own life to live, the beginnings of a family in her near future.

All you had at that moment were your racing thoughts and the regrets of a life you had almost ended too soon.

You sat in the lobby of the Tribune leg bouncing nervously as you waited for your meeting with the editor-in-chief, resume, and copies of your work sitting snugly in your tote bag. You knew Natalie had already sent over your information, but your nerves forced you to believe that being over-prepared would be necessary.

The sound of the receptionist calling your name caught your attention. She was standing a little ways away from you waiting for you to follow her, you gave a nervous smile before rising from your seat and following the rhythmic click-clack of her heels down the hall. As you watched her walk in front of you, you thought you may have been a little underdressed in your casual street clothes, but you forced yourself to push your thoughts aside. They’d be judging you for your backlog of work, not your choice of attire.

The receptionist lead you to a corner office, the frosted glass of the exterior providing a sense of privacy. Ushering you into the empty room she let you know that the editor you’d be meeting with would join you shortly. You sent her a small thanks before walking into the room, eyes catching on the minimalistic decorations scattered around the office.

Your feet lead you to the wall of windows situated behind the desk, the view reminding you of an office you had occupied so many months ago. You looked out over the Chicago skyline, it still felt so surreal to be back in this city.

The face staring back at you something you were still learning how to get used to. The scars that decorated the right side of your face were healing up nicely considering how deep some of the glass had gone.

You jumped at the sound of the door closing, someone entered so swiftly you hadn’t even heard them, or maybe you were just too wrapped up in memories of a past life. You hurriedly turned from the window not wanting to seem rude, the man who had entered the room caught your eye before gesturing for you to take a seat at one of the two chairs in front of his desk.

You felt a little less concerned about your fashion choice as your eyes followed his Levi-clad legs as he settled into the chair behind his desk. You could feel your nerves returning, not knowing what to expect from this interview. In the most humble sense you had forgotten what being interviewed felt like, not having to go through the process since getting your first big journalist job straight out of college.

“Nervous?” Your leg stopped bouncing as the man’s voice met your ears, a shy smile curving your lips.

“Here I thought I was being subtle,” you tried to joke hoping to relax yourself a bit. The responding chuckle helped somewhat, so far the man sitting in front of you didn’t seem like too much of a stickler.

“Never thought I’d see the day you were nervous in front of me Baby,” you tried to control the look of disgust you felt begging to paint your features. You were grateful for Nat’s help but you were sure this was a mistake.

“I’m sure HR has their hands full with you.” You mumbled, the roll of your eyes showcasing your irritation. “Thank you for the opportunity sir, but I don’t think this is a good fit for me.” You reached out to the chair next to you where you had sat your tote bag wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“No wait,” the sound of the rolling chair moving rapidly caused you to stop, seconds away from rising from your chair. You turned your attention to the figure in front of you eyebrows pinched together.

“It's me, Hayden,” your brows furrowed even more, your mind searching your memory for that name. “I…uh, I took you to senior prom. We met in our creative writing class that same year.”

You felt your eyes widen as your mouth formed the shape of an ‘o’, eyes darting to the pristine nameplate facing you on the desk. The name ‘Hayden Ivanovski’ staring directly back at you.

“No fucking way.” The whisper traveled easily through the silent office, Hayden’s echoing chuckle caused you to let out a small one of your own. “I’m sorry, it's just nobody but close friends and family even call me that anymore. And, I really wasn’t expecting to see you.”

You watched as he nodded, you could see it now. The boy you once knew in the maturity of his face, hadn’t changed much but it was enough that you wouldn’t easily recognize him if he passed you on the street.

“Uh, the porn stache sure is a uh choice,” your hand raised to gesture to your upper lip, you couldn’t help the smile curving your lips.

Hayden laughed head dropping as he resumed his seated position. “Divorce makes you do crazy things,” your smile faltered, you hadn’t meant the quip as an invitation to discuss any personal grievances. “No need to look so sad, it was mutual.” He shrugged the topic off like he hadn’t given it a second thought in a long while.

You nodded your head distractedly, “Enough about my failed marriage, how have you been?” You gave him a small smile, mind going blank as you thought of the best route to take this conversation.

“I uh, almost died five months ago,” the laugh ripped from Hayden’s chest, the last thing you were expecting to hear. You watched as he found your eyes, his smile disappearing as he took in the harrowing look on your face.

“You-you’re not serious are you?” The question almost caused you to laugh.

“As serious as my overdose was,” you watched as Hayden shifted in his seat, the air easily became uncomfortable. “Sorry coping mechanism.” You laughed the topic off, you had assumed Nat told him when she booked you this interview.

“So um, when does the interview start,” your leg began bouncing up and down again, the nervousness returning. If you hadn’t already made a bad impression you were sure exposing your less-than-stellar life choices definitely lost you the job.

“Nat didn’t tell you?” You stopped your brows from pinching together, the constant frowning sometimes the tiny scar between your eyebrows. “I don’t need to interview you, you’re an amazing journalist. I hired you the second Nat told me you were moving back. That is if you want to work here.”

“You’re not just hiring me because we went to prom together, or as a favor to Natalie are you?” Nat had helped you to get your foot in the door, you had wanted to secure the job because of your merit.

You watched as Hayden quickly shook his head, “While it is nice to reconnect with you, we need some experience in our newsroom. I know before your uh… incident you were working as a travel journalist, and the pay here wouldn’t be the same. But you’d still have full control over the stories you write, although you might not write as often as you’re used to.” You nodded along listening to his explanation. The fact that this was happening failed to resonate with you.

“So, the position of Managing Editor is yours if you want it.” Hayden sent you a small smile awaiting your response, he did his best not to focus too long on your scars as he stared in your direction.

“As long as I can write and edit then I will happily work for you,” the large grin spreading across your lips stretched the small scar stitched into your upper lip.

The smile on Hayden’s lips matched yours as he walked around the desk to shake your hand. The two of you sat there going over the expectations that your new role required, Hayden explaining the environment he tried to uphold at the paper.

You finished the meeting off with a tour of the floor the Tribune occupied, the one you’d mostly be working on. The two of you caught up a little as he input you into the system and created your badge so you could easily come and go as you pleased. You learned that he married Marlene Buchanan, a girl you went to high school with. The ink of their divorce still drying after only being finalized two months ago.

He invited you out to lunch but you had to rain check explaining the plans you made with Natalie promising the two of you would work something out in the future. He walked out with you, the two of you parting ways once you left the lobby.

You stood on the sidewalk taking in the crisp Chicago air. Your life was finally starting to feel like your own again, and even though you had only secured a job, the inevitable weight of doom that followed you was beginning to feel a little lighter.

Natalie was pacing in the office quickly moving to close the door as the chaos sounding through the building caused a headache to form. She knew Cicero would be there in the next hour, and that the money problem was their biggest issue in getting the new restaurant up and running.

The urge to call you was immediate after speaking with Cicero. Nat knew how much you cared about this place, and regardless of what anyone else thought she wanted you to have a say in any decision they made now that you were permanently back in Chicago. And she’d be lying if she said the reserved funds that came with you weren’t also a reason to invite you to this meeting.

Shouts could be heard through the door as she finally made her mind up, you two had plans for lunch anyways so you could just meet her and the two of you would leave together. Any excuse Nat could think up to call you would help her.

Sighing she scrolled through her contacts before forcing herself to press on your name and just call you. She listened as the phone rang, part of her hoping you didn’t answer her call, the hope immediately dying as your voice sang through the speaker.

“Nat, hey! I was just about to call you,” She smiled at the light tone in your voice, a tone she hadn’t heard in quite some time. “We still on for lunch?” The question caused her to take a deep breath, it was now or never she either asked you or she didn’t.

“Yeah of course. Uhh but would you mind meeting me at The Beef?” She was hoping the question came across as nonchalant, she called out your name as the line went quiet, sure you had hung up on her.

“Nat, I’m not sure I’m ready for that,” the apprehension in your voice made her feel guilty for even asking you in the first place.

“Listen, Baby, I know how you feel but we’re making a big decision today and I feel like you deserve to have your input heard,” she waited for a minute before continuing. “If it triggers you we can leave immediately, no questions asked okay? I just…this might be good for you.” She bit her lip as she waited for your response, she would be okay with whatever you decided but at least she had put the opportunity out there.

“I think I can be there in 45 minutes,” the tired sigh that escaped your lips matched the way Nat was feeling.

“Thank you, Baby.” She listened as you said your goodbyes before hanging up the phone, Nat was sure if she didn’t already have morning sickness she would’ve thrown up from that phone call alone.

It was exactly as you remembered it. Not that you had expected the exterior to change in the year since you’d been there. Although not physically changed things felt different, it no longer felt nostalgic as you stood there looking at the newspaper-covered windows. You could feel the anxiety eating away at you, the sick part deep inside of you wishing you had something to numb your feelings.

You could hear the faint sound of an alarm blaring with how close you were standing, the sound helping you to focus on the things you could control. You hadn’t come all this way just to look at the old building’s facade, and part of you didn’t think you could take disappointing Natalie by walking away. Nat wouldn’t have been disappointed in you though, but since your accident, you were scared to ever see that look in her eyes again.

The deep breath of fresh air filling your lungs helped to cool you down a bit. The pairing of your puffer jacket and scarf felt a bit suffocating.

In through your nose out through your mouth, a few more deep breaths were all you allowed yourself before forcing your hand to grip the door handle and step foot into a building that might haunt you for a lifetime.

The constant screeching of the alarm was so loud it made you glad that it drowned out the sound of the bell ringing above the door. Your eyes traveled around the restaurant, it was the same but it wasn’t. Little things missing telling you that some type of work was being done.

“As I live and fucking breathe!” The loud voice you would recognize anywhere drawing your attention to the dining area, Richie’s large figure taking up the doorway.

You shared a small smile with him. Subtly adjusting your scarf to cover the most noticeable scar lining your face, you watched as the older man took steps to close the distance between the two of you. The tall man quickly pulled you into a tight hug.

You hadn’t realized how much you needed a hug from Richie until you were snuggly pressed against his chest, the warmth of his body helping to relax you. The unconscious thought crossed your mind that you might have never experienced one of these hugs again if you hadn’t made it to the hospital in time.

The love Richie was pouring into the hug caused your eyes to water, Mikey’s passing bonding the two of you, the loss of someone you both loved so much bringing the two of you impossibly closer. But not close enough for him to know the path you had taken after. And not close enough for you to want to burden him with being just another addict in his life.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your head before pulling away, the annoying alarm still blaring at full volume. You stepped back to give him space, “You been fucking around in the crawl space Richie?” The question paired with your signature grin as Richie let loose his boisterous laugh.

“Of course, you’d fucking know about the alarm.” Richie’s disgruntled mumbling met your ears.

“Hey, Richie, could you please turn that goddamn motherfuckin thing off?” The voice of Cicero filtered through your ears. “It’s making me insane!”

“My bad Uncle J, Baby just walked through the door and shit like a ghost. Fucking Mikey booby trapping crawl spaces and shit.” He poked his head back into the dining room to let the occupants know he somewhat had the situation under control.

“Mikey’s fuckin Kevin McCalliper-,” The responses correcting Richie caused you to let out a small giggle, the noise bringing a smile to Richie’s lips.

You continued standing with Richie as he spoke to somebody on the phone, the long one-word password he gave made you chuckle. Pretending you knew how to help Richie was an excuse to not join the conversation going on in the back for a while.

While the blaring alarm was causing your ears to ring, the loud noise was a buffer between your impending thought and the inevitability of being back in this restaurant. The sudden quiet was the only sign that you would have to face a now unavoidable situation.

“Here lemme take that,” Richie reached out expecting you to give him your scarf and jacket. You hesitated, your wardrobe feeling like a sense of armor for the time being.

“Uh, I’m actually pretty cold. Thanks, Rich.” Your hand shot out to pat his bicep, head jerking in the direction the voices were coming from. “Sugar in there?” You didn’t need Richie to reply to know the answer.

You followed Richie’s lead as he headed to the back, taking a deep breath to still your nerves, not all too sure what you were getting yourself into. You watched as Richie pulled up a chair next to Cicero for you, taking your tote bag out of your hands as he gestured for you to sit. You smiled politely, giving him a small nod as you moved further into the room.

Three out of four familiar faces stared back at you, the look on Nat’s face indicating how much it meant for her that you showed up.

“What is this an intervention?” You made the joke as a way to cut the tension that had filled the room, the silence felt even louder as Nat said your name in a reprimanding tone, the joke not being funny to her one bit. You shrugged before moving to sit in your designated chair, shooting a small smile to the dark-skinned woman who was eyeing you from across the table. Your eyes easily avoided the blue ones you knew too well.

You listened as Nat cleared her throat, all attention focused on her. “So uh, I invited Baby here because I think she deserves to be a part of this decision.” Four eyes flashed to you as you awkwardly adjusted in your seat. “And, um she has a decent savings account.”

A snort left your lips at Natalie’s rushed words, her ulterior motives for inviting you here reminding you a bit of her mischievous brown-eyed older brother.

“Sorry uh, big fan of your work. But uh, how do you play into all this.” Your eyes drifted to the unknown woman, a smile played at your lips, a feeling of shyness sweeping across you at the fact that she had any idea who you were.

“Family friend.”

“Old acquaintance.”

The three other people at the table looked between you and Carmy, eyes darting back and forth at both of your explanations. You couldn’t help the cackle you let out, missing the look of panic shooting through Natalie’s eyes. You couldn’t recall a time you would ever describe your relationship with Carmen Berzatto as an acquaintanceship.

“Baby is a close family friend,” Nat interjected before any other response could be given. “A friend we should be thankful for even considering investing in the restaurant.”

Your eyes finally found Carmy’s having a hard time taming the smile threatening to spread across your lips. The false confidence you were exuding helped you not overthink the situation you were in.

The conversation picked back up where it had left off after you entered. You sank into your seat shoving your hands into your jacket and tucking your chin into your scarf as you did your best to pay attention. You couldn’t help but let your eyes travel across the mostly empty dining room, memories of a life that no longer felt like your own clawing to overtake your senses.

Up and down, up and down. The tick you gained while in recovery helped you to remain in the present your leg working overtime as it bounced to keep you focused.

The voices talking around you are drowned out by your wandering thoughts. Thoughts that had you re-evaluating your relationship with Natalie.

It was no secret that you had become a selfish person after Mikey’s death, every decision you made was to benefit you, and if someone else somehow benefited from it then good for them.

That was the reason you stayed in Chicago so long after the funeral, telling yourself that the remaining Berzattos needed you, that you were staying to make sure they made it out of the deep end alive.

But that was a lie, you stayed because you were too afraid to face your own emotions, afraid to face your grief head-on. Even now you could say you stayed behind to ensure Donna and Sugar were okay, but deep down you knew that you stayed because you didn’t want to be alone.

You helped Richie at The Beef because he needed you, needed to know he wasn’t alone. In all actuality, it was you who needed them, you who had become dependent on people grieving just as much as you.

The same could be said about your substance abuse after returning to your reality. The idea of never being able to talk to Mikey, see Mikey, or hold Mikey was all just an excuse you used to justify your indulgences.

You constantly told yourself that it wouldn’t be fair to burden Sugar or Richie with your hurting, that they didn’t need to babysit you while trying to heal themselves. That when your memory became spotty and you missed more than one of Sugar’s calls, it was because she didn’t need to put up with you and your problems.

And then unintentionally or not, you became Natalie’s problem. Not even letting her brother’s grave grow cold before you forced her to face the idea of losing another person she spent her whole life loving.

You pleaded with the universe for Nat to wipe her hands of you. To let you waste your life away and rot like you were starting to. To turn her back on you, because how could you so easily fall into the same vice as Mikey knowing how much it affected him; knowing how much it affected the people who cared for him.

How dare you pretend as though no one would give a shit if they had to bury you mere months after putting Michael to rest. How fucking dare you be so selfish.

There were nights in bed where you’d lay awake questioning your intentions. Had you purposely thrown your life away because you knew Natalie would come to your rescue? Did you somehow manipulate Natalie’s good nature into digging you out of a hole you were so far gone in you couldn’t bring yourself back from?

You always got on Natalie about putting herself first, and how she needed to stop stretching herself so thin for everyone else. And then you went and almost fucking died, and you forced her to take on a role she had been playing her whole life.

You had willingly ruined your life and forced Natalie to face the consequences.

If there was one thing you learned in your recovery, it was that getting clean, staying clean, and becoming a healthier better version of yourself should never be done for someone else. You had to want it for yourself, but damn if seeing Natalie’s face didn’t push you to get your shit together you weren’t sure what did.

“500,” you weren’t sure where the confidence to speak up came from, not even entirely sure what the balance in your savings account even was. Your unfocused eyes now staring directly into Natalies. “That’s my offer.” You quickly glanced around at everyone else unsure as to what they were even talking about but needing to put your stake into the game.

“Like $500..or,” your attention turned to the other woman, her voice trailing off indicating that she indeed was asking a question.

A chuckle parted your lips as you shook your head. “No, I mean 500K.” You made sure to look at each person across from you individually, instilling how serious your offer was.

“Bullshit.” The sound of Carmy’s voice startled you, sure he had been speaking this whole time but it's not like you were paying that much attention.

You scoffed, eyes rolling in tandem with the sound. “I thought you needed money Carmen,” the name slipped through clenched teeth. You turned to face Nat. Your final numbers would be decided between the two of you, “Nat?”

“100.”

“450.”

“120.”

“375.”

“200,” you hesitated for a minute. The triumphant smile on Natalie’s lips caused your eyes to narrow.

“250, or I walk.” You leaned forward hands moving to lay flat atop the table, a small smirk played on your lips. Your leverage was total shit and Nat knew that there was no way you’d walk away from this project.

“Deal.” The smile on your lips faltered as you faced Carmy again, his annoying crystal blue eyes staring daggers into you.

Clearing your throat you slumped back in your seat, hands moving back to hide inside your pockets. The meeting finished on a good note without a hitch, with the restaurant gaining an extra 250K to put toward inevitable expenses.

You quickly stood from your seat moving to escape any awkward reunion that may have sprouted between you and Carmy. The interest in meeting Carmy’s partner was pushed to the back burner as you made your way through the restaurant, looking for the one other person you wanted to speak with at the moment.

Maneuvering through the kitchen you found Tina not too far from what you remembered to be her usual station. You leaned against the wall watching her work, the effort she was putting into saving burnt and rusted pots bringing a small smile to your face. You shrugged off your jacket and slipped the scarf from around your neck.

“Need some help?” The hesitation in your voice was evident. You weren’t sure where you stood with Tina, you knew how she felt about Mikey and how much his choices affected her. The thought of relaying the past few months to her was too much for you to think about at this moment, you had time, and when you were ready you would confide in her. But for now, there was no point in ruining a much-needed reunion.

You watched as Tina jolted, not prepared to hear your voice. “Ay, dios mío!” Tina turned to you hand raised above her heart, eyes wide. “Why the fuck are you sneaking around the kitchen.” You listened to the older woman’s voice scold you before making your way in her direction.

Not giving her another second before throwing your arms around her, you probably should’ve made sure it was okay, but there was nothing like a mother’s endearing hug to let you know that everything would eventually be okay.

The two of you stood in each other’s embrace in the middle of the kitchen. Neither of you said a word as your quiet sobs began to echo off the walls. You were crying for Mikey, and for yourself, and for all the lives the both of you had ruined, whether they knew it or not.

You were apprehensive to step foot back in this establishment so soon. But it had easily shown you all the things your life would have missed out on had you not allowed Natalie to get you the help you needed.

Carmy’s head perked up as he noticed you exit the kitchen with Tina. His irritation began to rise as he laid eyes on you, Sugar had blindsided him with your arrival. He hadn’t even known you moved back to Chicago, let alone that you had any interest in getting The Bear up and running.

You looked different. His eyes immediately caught the obvious scar tracing along your jaw. The tip of it started a few centimeters below your chin before meeting your jawline and finding its end just before your ear. It was a gnarly scar and he knew for sure the amount of stitches you needed must have been painful.

Carmy was also sure you didn’t have that scar a year ago, nor the smaller one that was carved into your upper lip. He would’ve taken notice, you can’t spend 48 hours with someone and not be able to recall all the puzzle pieces that were specially made to create them.

He watched the two of you approach the group at the counter, you hanging a little farther back than probably necessary, pretending to occupy yourself with the bare walls. Carmy might’ve smiled at your awkwardness if he wasn’t so confused by your presence.

A distracted farewell to Tina left his lips as he tried not to be so obvious in his study of you. His eyes refused to meet Sugar’s as he could feel her watching him, watching you.

Sydney’s return gained his full attention, forcing himself to focus on something else other than his thoughts that were racing and full of you. The clearing of your throat as you finally made your way to stand next to Sug had all six sets of eyes focusing on you.

You didn’t just look different. From the very few interactions the two of you shared and Carmy’s constant people-watching, you seemed like an altogether new person, the confidence and surety he was used to seeing in you was dull.

“I don’t mean to impose, but I was kind of hoping I could take on a more involved role in all of this?” Carmy’s eyes squinted as your hand raised in a flourish to signify you were talking about the restaurant.

You were met with silence. Carmy was too distracted by being in your presence after a drought without you, and Sydney still hadn’t even been truly introduced to you.

“Shit, sorry.” Your hand shot out to shake the woman’s hand as the two of you introduced yourselves. Although she read your articles, mostly your profile stories highlighting various chefs, it was different to be formally introduced to the person behind the stories.

“I uh, actually read most of your articles.” Carmy watched as you brightened up a bit your writing something that would always bring you joy. “I had to cancel my subscription though.” The sound of your laugh went straight to Carmy’s heart, he hadn’t realized how much he missed the delicate sound until hearing it again in this moment.

“I actually have a proposal for you three,” you paused, making sure everyone was paying attention before continuing your explanation. “What if I highlighted the renovation? I was..uh…before,” you had to stop yourself and take a deep breath to ground yourself.

“I was profiling The Beef and Mikey before he…yeah. Um, so I was thinking I could maybe continue that with The Bear,” you stopped to make sure everyone was following along, sending Carmy a small smile before continuing. “We could profile the team, give people a behind-the-scenes look into the renovation, and who’s behind it. I would publish it, it would be great PR and might help to fill seats.”

The following silence made you feel insecure about your proposal. “Maybe just give it a thought. No pressure or anything uh just let me know if there's any interest.” Your voice trailed off as your confidence continued to plummet, Carmy’s blank eyes doing nothing to quell your nervousness.

You turned your attention back to Sugar, a silent plea to leave in your eyes. She nodded “Uh, Baby and I had plans so we’ll be heading out.” You sent the two chefs in front of you a forced smile before hurriedly returning to the kitchen to pick up your jacket and scarf you left there. Call it cowardly but slipping out through the kitchen’s back door seemed to be in your best interest.

The fresh air whipped against your face like a blade, and the immediate change in temperature helped to relax you. There would never have been a perfect time to make your return to this restaurant, and maybe it wasn’t how you things to go, but you felt an immense pressure off your shoulders.

The hard part was over, you made it through the door, walked past the remnants of Mikey every time a specific spot reminded you of him.

It wouldn’t always be like today, you knew that. Some days would be harder than others as you worked through your struggles and allowed yourself to feel the loss of Mikey. One step at a time, it was cliche but it was really how you had to live your life from now on.

Being around Carmy would continue to be hard for the time being. You had essentially watched his brother deteriorate, watched as his mind no longer became his own. And you too had almost become a victim to the whims of your drug-addled mind.

You wouldn’t force a relationship with him and would make him privy to your shortcomings when you were ready. But you told yourself you would be okay if he wanted nothing to do with you, the choices you made would not be easy to come to terms with. And if Carmen Berzatto decided he was finally done with your constant disappointment in his life, you’d just have to accept it.

The sound of Natalie’s footsteps pulled you from the labyrinth of your mind, a small smile sent her way as the two of you made your journey far from this lot of memories.

Carmen stared at the outlines they had hung along the walls, eyes following along with tasks that needed to be completed to open in six months.

He didn’t want to admit it but he was a little bummed out that Sugar returned to the restaurant without you. Any small glimpse, or interaction he could get with you he would swallow like a man starving. The chef stood there doing his best as his counterpart gushed over meeting you, doing his best not to cringe at his two worlds colliding.

Carmy wasn’t sure if he could keep it professional while you worked alongside him on the renovation. Sure you would be doing your own thing in tandem with the work that would get done. But surrounding himself with you in an already stressful time in his life and an even more stressful environment wasn’t something he was prepared for.

He let his mind wander, thoughts of what happened to you in the year since your visit drowning him. Carmy had no clue what happened after you left that night, no clue what had seemed to connect you and Sugar more than you already were.

Seeing you again made his chest hurt. Seeing you was like a hot poker being shoved through his heart, unbearably comfortable but all so warming at the same time. He wanted to know you, know what had changed you since the last time his fingers had traced your skin.

Carmy knew the two of you were nowhere near as close as you had once been. Unsure if you’d ever share a connection like your past one. But he knew while you were here, in Chicago, surrounding yourself with him, the two of you would be given equal opportunity to put this years-long game of cat and mouse to an end; it was just a matter of who bit first.

a/n: well…here we are. i know this might read like baby’s life is just gonna be sunshine and rainbows from here on out but i can promise its not. she is a deeply flawed character with a lot of shit to figure out and a half baked relationship with everyone’s favorite chef won’t fix that. i’ve been around addicts my whole life so i have an understanding of what they can be like, i want to iterate that in no way am i romanticizing addiction. my personal experiences with functioning/addicts DO NOT make me an expert on this topic in anyway, but i do use those experiences to write for baby. i’m always here if anyone needs to talk. i hope you all enjoy <3

taglist: @hawkins-2000 @elliesbabygirl @allbark-no-bite @anakinswh0re3005 @rexorangecouny @thecraziestcrayon @fruitcupsworld @nishinoyahhh @lilylovelyxo @ridingthehotmessexpress @noas-ark @jadeittic @hellokittyever @luvr-bunnyy @sxgees @fandomhopped @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @kravitzwhore @chanluuvr @readingwiththereids @chims-kookies @ladygrey03 @ferida-kahlo @wanderlustnightwanderer @how2besalty @armydrcamers @jointherebellion215 @jackierose902109 @blkbxrbie-esther @ajordan2020 @head-slut-in-charge @magnet-girl @thebookwormlife @sevikasblackgf @writers-hes @senassn @bunnysthngs @khena @kailyn-g05 @ovaqma @fire-treasure-iii @frequentnosebleeder

unable to tag: @gcidrvsh @awatt31 @cauliflowerpatch

[avocadoguru]

He was staring at her in a way no one had in her entire life. She couldn’t read anything in his eyes - not surprise, not fear, not malicious intent - nothing. (wolfrry, werewolf!harry, alpha!harry, ranger!y/n)

Lupus Noctis- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

Chapter 8 / alternatively, read on wattpad

Chapter 9 (word count: 23.7k)

Y/N had really really missed Harry. It was only a week that she was gone. But just a few days prior when she called him on her break, he told her he couldn’t talk and then got off the phone with her in less than a minute. It was reminiscent of what had happened to her in a past relationship.

She dated a nice enough guy named Mark. They had been seeing one another for 6 months and things were going well, or so she thought. And then she went to military school. She wouldn’t be able to see Mark for a month here or a month there. The second month that she couldn’t make it back home her calls with Mark progressively got shorter and shorter. Until one day he just didn’t call her back. 

When she went home to visit she learned that he was dating someone new. He hadn’t even told her. It was upsetting. She wouldn’t have called herself devastated but it took a bit to get over him. He had hurt her. And she never asked him directly why he’d done it but she understood that it was the distance. The longer she was away the easier she was to forget. She had no lasting effect on Mark. He obviously didn’t like her enough to wait, she determined. 

So she figured that Harry was feeling the same, especially since they hadn’t known one another that long. She imagined scenarios of him running into someone he used to like or an old flame and they hit it off and he was busy with her now that Y/N was away. She wasn’t away long but she would be easy to replace because Harry could literally have his pick. Of course, she would never speak those self-sabotaging thoughts out loud but they were there in the back of her conscious mind every time she was left alone to think. 

But seeing him at the airport and then learning what was keeping him busy plus the thoughtfulness of putting her family photo and training certificates above the dresser in his room had her feeling so intensely happy and relieved that she physically felt the shift in herself about who Harry was. He was still here. He was still hers. Those endlessly crystalline green eyes looking at her as if she was all there was left to look at in the world.

Yes, the feeling was physical. The heat spread over her tummy and up to her ribs and neck until she was compelled to turn in his arms and grasp onto him to pull him down toward her mouth. 

She couldn’t answer him right away. It didn’t matter anyway. All she knew was how she felt and the way he spoke to her and looked at her and treated her. He really liked her. Maybe just as much as she liked him. His gesture was a vulnerable one. One that made her realize that this was the kind of man she deserved. A man that wasn’t shy to show her his feelings. He might not tell her in certain words, but his actions proved it all without a shadow of a doubt. She felt secure with him, safe, excited. 

Harry put his hands into her hair to pull her face closer. He felt like he couldn’t get her close enough. He could feel her heart pounding in her chest pressed against his and the desperation in her kiss was not missed by him. He hadn’t really expected this reaction to the frames above the dresser but he certainly wasn’t disappointed. Maybe this meant yes? Yes that she’d like to stay with him. He did all this for her after all. 

Her arms went around his back and then under the hem of his shirt, pushing her palms up the skin over his spine and to the expanse where his muscles formed over his ribs. When he moved his lips to the corner of her mouth and down to her jaw she scraped her nails into his flesh just the tiniest bit and felt his chest vibrate as he moaned. 

Suddenly she was being put onto the bed and she gasped feeling his large hands around her middle. Harry climbed over her, his body covering hers.

Her scent was concentrated. This was similar to what he’d smelled before on her, of which he later learned was her ovulating and the hormones from being fertile. He could take care of her and make her feel good. Help calm her hormones and even his own. She’d be ovulating for days and he could make a nest for her and soothe her during her “heat”. Fuck her and eat her out all she wanted. If she wanted.

“You smell so fucking good, kitten. Just wanna eat you up.”

Her words were caught in Harry’s mouth as he lowered himself over her to kiss her again, nudging himself between her thighs as he pushed them apart.

Yes, that did sound very good. To have Harry’s mouth on her again. She wouldn’t mind that at all. But she also wanted even more.

She pushed at his chest suddenly feeling shaky and needy, “Here, I want these off,” she spoke as she began to claw at the waistband of his jeans, plucking at his button.

Harry sat back and smirked down at her. She was displaying her need as if she were in heat, he thought to himself as he unzipped his pants and then pulled at hers, “Let’s get yours off too.”

Harry was thankful his rut was just a distant memory now. He was more in control but he didn’t know how he would handle it if she wanted his cock. If he felt her pretty and deliciously scented pussy wrapped around him, coating him in herself… he would need to keep his head on straight and take it easy which was not going to be simple. 

The moment her silky cunt was exposed to him as he pulled her panties down he’d barely lowered them past her knees when he dove in tongue first to get a taste. 

She gasped and tried to spread her legs but her panties were limiting the movement of her limbs. But it didn’t stop Harry from dipping his tongue into her precious center and lapping at her.

When he needed better access he groaned in frustration and tore the material off before grasping the back of her thighs and pushing her legs to her chest.

“Fuck, kitten,” he spoke as he lowered his mouth back to her labia and used his tongue to flick and press over her clit. He swallowed her sticky essence and basked in the sound of her moans. 

With her legs pressed into her chest, she brought her arms around her sides and pushed her fingers into his hair. 

Once again, Harry’s method of eating pussy was uncouth, boorish, animalistic. Y/N stopped breathing for a few moments as she felt him pull and lick and suck and kiss. 

He brought his mouth down to her entrance and jutted his tongue inside as far as he could reach it. He’d lick all along the insides of her warm slick walls if he could. Slurp out all of her arousal and fill his belly with it. 

She could feel his nose pressed into her cunt, slipping over her clit as his lips sucked and his tongue moved inside of her opening. He held the back of her thighs tight as his fingers dug into her soft flesh. She was sure it would bruise but it only made her press him into her harder, grasping his hair and holding him in place. 

She whined his name and Harry felt his cock twitch. He was going to show her how much he missed her. Make her orgasm and fall in love with him and want to live with him and be his mate. He’d do whatever it took. He just wanted her to want him. He hoped she wanted him the same.

When he brought his lips back up to her clit he let go of one of her thighs and moved his free hand to her entrance, circling slowly and getting the pads of his fingers wet as he felt her folds and little hole, barely letting his middle finger dip in. But when he felt her tighten her grip on his hair he knew what she wanted.

He pushed himself back and released her other thigh, heaving his breaths as he looked down at her with droopy lids and parted lips. He pulled at the hem of her shirt and lifted it to get it off finally. He wanted to see all of her. He’d been in such a hurry he’d only gotten her pants and panties off. 

She sat up and moved her arms overhead as he removed the useless thing. Once it was tossed into the room she unhooked her bra and threw it in the same direction as where her shirt went. Harry unbuttoned his own shirt, keeping his eyes on her body and her face. She was so pretty. All of her. He didn’t know where to look. 

And Y/N had the same problem. He was gorgeous. His handsome angular face and prominent nose, pink wet lips, and messy curls that fell over his strong shoulders and his broad chest, all the way down his well-defined, tattooed torso to the lovely cock he sported that was thick and full and heavy with its crown pointing right at her. His slit beginning to glisten and the swollen edges of his frenulum which she knew were smooth and lovely to lick and pop into her mouth.

Harry settled back in between her legs, lowering himself so his shoulders were pushing at her thighs, his forearms caging her in before he was situated over her pussy once again, “You missed me didn’t you?” He smirked as he looked down at her wet crease and licked his lips.

She laughed and just before she could respond to his cocky remark his mouth was back on her again, effectively making her forget whatever words she had planned to speak to him. She threw her head back and gasped when she felt a finger press into her opening as he stroked her front wall and flattened his tongue over her clit.

But then he inserted a second finger and she arched her back and bucked her hips upward against his hand and his face. He was lapping at her with a lazy tongue, slow and affectionate kisses to her crease and up to her sensitive button. 

Harry was feeling the ache in his cock. His tip was dragging against the blanket below as he continued his work. He needed her to come so badly. Just wanted to help her feel better and to show her what she could have with him if she said yes. And based on her reaction he thought she might.

“Harry! Oh!” Y/N’s fingers carded through his hair again as she writhed over his fingers, pulling him in deep. Harry was loving her response. When she pulled at his strands and coughed out a loud moan he imagined getting to have this every night and every morning. He’d want it before bed and first thing. He had an insatiable appetite as it was, but with her, it was far more consuming because it wasn’t just sex. He wanted to take care of her and provide for her. He wanted to know her deeply and make her happy. He wanted to be for her what she was for him. 

“Ffffuck… fuck… oh god! Mmmm…” Her coos and whines and moans were lovely, just absolutely amazing. He could listen to it all day. Would listen to it all day if she let him. He would come again just from her little noises and her taste alone if he hadn’t taken care of himself before picking her up at the airport. 

Without intending to, she squeezed her thighs around his head when she felt herself begin to come, “Harry! H- Harry! Ohh!”

Harry dug in as deep as possible, slurping her clit in and stroking her front wall with his fingers, dragging them into the little dip that made her lose it. She ground her cunt into his face and cried and tasting her release Harry allowed the smallest vibration from his chest to sound when he purred before reeling it back in. 

She felt his wet fingers pull out of her pussy and grasp onto her thigh, pushing her legs back down as he slowly licked her up and down. She keened and sucked in a sharp breath at how sensitive she was after her orgasm but his warm tongue didn’t let up. She pushed at his head and jolted when he only pushed his mouth over her harder, “Harry! It’s… oh god!” 

Harry smiled as he took one more swipe with his tongue and then moved his lips outward to her hip and down to the soft part of her thigh, licking over her silky flesh. He couldn’t help himself as he bit into her skin, allowing only the tiniest bit of his fang to pierce into her. A dainty mark that wouldn’t mean as much to her as it did to him or to anyone like him that got near her. 

She hissed and bucked her hips up at the nip he gave her but then he moved to her other side, licking the inside of her thigh, the delicate plump skin, now lightly scented with her arousal from his mouth. Another small nip and lick to complete the markings. He kissed over the tiny cut, gently squeezing her thighs as he did so.

“Did you..” Y/N’s words were breathy, “... just bite me?” She laughed out as she pushed herself up to look down at him still kissing the inside of her thigh.

Harry groaned and pushed himself up to look at her with a smirk, “Just couldn’t help myself.”

She honestly didn’t mind it. It was sort of hot to her. She figured she could bite him a little bit too if that’s what he was into. 

With his eyes on hers, he dragged his finger through her crease again and she let out a pathetic whine, “I love your pussy, Y/N. So wet for me too,” he licked his lips as he pressed into her clit, wiping her arousal around her swollen bud.

Still sitting with her elbows propping her up she watched as he kept tracing his fingers over her pussy - spreading her shiny juice all around. His gaze made her feel hot, vulnerable, wanted. He wanted her. 

Her lips parted slightly as she watched him take his free hand and slowly stroke himself. She’d just been eaten out like his life depended on it but this very moment with his fingers smearing her arousal around, his eyes on hers, and his cock in his hand felt even more intimate. Felt even more raw and real. She gasped when he pushed his middle finger inside again and watched as he pressed in to his knuckle, wetting the expensive ring he wore, and then pulled out to his fingertip. Leisurely, he continued to glide his fist up and down his cock as he pushed his finger into her with the same rhythm. As if to suggest his intentions. 

Spreading her legs wider she scooted in toward him and pulled him down by the back of his neck to push their mouths together. Burning, wet, trembling, desperate. Harry let go of his cock and pulled his finger out, wiping it at her hip as he pushed her down. He placed himself right over her, his cock nudging into her folds. He moved his hips back and then pushed forward again. Smooth and wet on the underside of his cock he moaned and licked into her mouth.

Y/N lifted her hips to press herself into his big cock, his tip gliding over her clit, back and forth. She panted into his mouth and grasped onto his back. She wanted more. Needed it. 

He wasn’t going to be able to stop himself from fucking her when her moans were so sweet and her pussy was so wet against his dick. She was squirming under him, straining to push herself into him, practically begging him for it. 

Harry pushed himself up, keeping his cock warm between her labia as he slid himself up and down and watched as his crown grazed into her clit. She gasped with her mouth wide open, her eyes on his face, urging him for more. 

And she only grew wetter. He could smell her horniness. Could smell that she was fertile. She needed him. Needed his cock to feel soothed. And he wanted to give it to her. He wanted to make her feel good.

The sight below him was carnal, decadent, sensuous. His cock was long and every time he slid upward, the bulbous crown would reach past her belly button when his balls met her wet pussy. Harry’s breathing was starting to become labored. He wanted to put himself out of his misery, wanted her to say the word and he’d burrow into her like he knew she wanted. 

But it would take a bit of work. He could fit, certainly, he’d been told. But Harry was an alpha, so even for his kind he was larger than most. Her body could accommodate but he’d need to go in slowly and take his time. He just needed the green light.

Y/N fluttered her eyes closed at the feel of him heavy and silky over her pussy and nudging into her clit. She kept tilting her pelvis upward, thinking perhaps he’d just give in, sink inside of her and tear her apart with that big cock. 

When he groped at her breast she opened her eyes and he was already looking at her. Like he was pleading, begging for her to give him permission. She moaned and then looked down between them and it made her gasp. His beautiful cock was shiny and coated in her and his tip had a tasty drop of precome leaking from it. 

He hadn’t made a move to get a condom but something in her just didn’t give a fuck. She was out of her mind with him, perhaps he’d sucked her brains out along with her soul when he gave her head, but she didn’t want to interrupt the moment, she needed him now. And so, brushing off any good sense that lingered and deciding she’d worry about it all later she moved her hand down to his thick cock, wrapped her fingers over the top of him, and guided him down to her opening as she kept her eyes on his.

His lips parted and the small whimper that fell from his mouth as he watched her move him into position came out involuntarily. 

“You want my cock kitten?”

Y/N nodded, “Please. Wanna feel you.”

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed hard before looking between their bodies with his tip placed at her entrance, the very top already just inside. He had to take care. He needed to go in slow and make sure she stayed slippery. Bringing his thumb down to her clit he slowly massaged it, up and down, the pad of his thumb drenched in her.

Holding onto his shaft he pushed upward and then back down to her entrance and with the most gentle prod he could manage began to push in. He watched Y/N’s face for any sign of anything. He wanted it to be good. Wanted her to feel the way she was making him feel. 

Her moans quieted as his crown was fully pressed in past the tight muscle at her entry. And Harry thought to himself, it was very tight. It felt like he could tear her open. And her sudden silence worried him but when he stopped and she looked up at him, her mouth dropped open and her eyes wide she let out a coo as she threw her head back, the line of her neck from her jaw to her clavicle on display, “H-harry… ooohhhh….” 

That had to have been a good sign. She was moaning his name and acting as if she was already on edge and he’d only just pushed his tip in. 

He continued giving her clit attention as he kept himself still, “Kitten, tell me how you feel. You’re so tight I don’t want to hurt you,” his own words were soft and slurred.

Forcing her eyes open she tilted her head up to look at him. His eyes were hooded and she could tell that it felt good for him. And it was good for her too. He was quite big, though. His initial plunge didn’t hurt but the pressure was intense and she felt her body adjusting to his size, spreading apart and opening for him. But he’d only just barely sunk in.

She grasped onto his forearm, “You’re big but it’s really good. Want to feel more of you. Please.”

Harry licked his lips and looked down at her small hand on his forearm. It was just like he’d imagined time and time again. He fantasized that she’d need to hang on as he pushed in. He moved his gaze up toward her belly button and then to her beautiful plump breasts. He pushed in another inch as he cooed at her, “Yeah? Such a good girl, Y/N. Gonna work you open slowly, okay?”

With her mouth still parted she nodded and let out a hushed whine. Everything he was doing and saying was even better than what she had envisioned. She’d fingered herself and used her vibrator plenty of times imagining how Harry would go about fucking her. And now that it was happening, now that he was inching his way into her warm cunt it felt so much hotter and even more perfect. Harry’s cock was a lot bigger than anything she’d ever used on herself but already with the attention he was giving to her and with how slow he was going this was the best she’d ever had. 

Harry pulled back an inch and then dipped in another inch, slowly rocking himself into her. She was absolutely drenched and puffy and taking him in so well despite her smaller human size. He had never had sex with a human. All of his experience had been with betas who were used to taking someone his size. But this time was different - Y/N’s smaller entrance and size needed a bit of time to adjust but he could tell, that inch by inch she was slowly opening up and he watched in awe as his cock sunk deeper into her with every minute that passed.

It was a lot of work. Y/N was enjoying every single moment of it though. Because Harry’s finger on her clit was already making her drip and quiver. She could come from the clitoral stimulation alone. She gasped when she felt him glide into her g-spot, softly massaging the spongy place inside of her that oft was neglected. In fact, most of the guys she’d had sex with weren’t quite as thick as Harry so when their dick could hit it it was only every now and then. But with Harry - he was so wide and filled her so fully that once his cock got in to the spot he was constantly pressing into it, moving along it as he pushed in. She was going to come already.

And Harry watched in amazement as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her slightly shaky thighs started to tremble and her moans came out louder and more frantic. She dug her nails into his forearm.

“Oh god! I’m coming!” 

She hadn’t expected it. She was feeling the lovely zip of the beginning of an orgasm tingle from her clit and figured it was possible because he was working her so nicely but the further into her he reached with the pressure over her g-spot and his thumb applying just the right amount of force it popped and sizzled and she couldn’t stop it. 

Harry choked out a moan and watched her come on his cock for the first time. He felt her clench and pulse over him and it was unlike anything he’s ever known. He hadn’t realized how good it would feel to have her coming around him, though he was barely even halfway inside. He realized that she was probably coming because he was rubbing at her clit but fuck it felt amazing to have her coming so fast. 

She spurted the tiniest bit of liquid out and he groaned as he watched the spectacle. He continued slipping his thumb up and down over her clit and she grabbed onto her left breast as her breathing shallowed and she opened her eyes.

Her pupils were totally blown out and her face was flushed. She looked like sex. Like his mate. Like everything he’d ever wanted. He’d give it all up for her. Live in her world and be her man. 

“Oh… wow,” her breathy words came out in a whisper, a small smile on her face.

“Squeezed the fuck out of me, kitten. Felt so good having you come on my cock like that. Ready for more?” 

She was sure she could handle more. Though she was feeling very sensitive and her pussy was beginning to ache from the stretch she nodded. She needed him to come too. Would never think of denying him an orgasm. Not when he was so pretty when he came. Not when he’d already given her two. And she was sure he wouldn’t stop until she came again.

And he wouldn’t stop. He would treat her tonight. Fuck her, come inside of her over and over again, let her use him all night (that was once she got used to him). Harry was losing it. His flesh was on fire. He would come soon and he wanted to control his beast at least a little but he was so close to the edge after seeing her and feeling her come he was worried that he’d let go a little as soon as he poured into her.

Now, Harry wasn’t concerned about coming too fast and it affecting his performance. That wasn’t really much of an issue for him. He could stay hard for her after coming. He wouldn’t go soft like a normal human man. As long as he had his mate on his cock he’d stay hard for her and he could come multiple times himself.

What he was concerned about was coming too soon and having his wolf rise to the surface. If he came while she wasn’t also coming she might be too aware of his guttural growl, his glowing eyes, he’d need to check himself that his fangs didn’t unsheathe or that he didn’t knot in her. But of course, orgasming at all would be a test. Because Harry never had to reign himself in. Normally, when he came with a beta he’d pound her into whatever surface she was lying on (or kneeling on if he was going in from behind), hard and deep so she could barely catch her breath, and keep his hand wrapped around her neck to hold her in place. Sometimes it would take a moment for the beta to recover and even stand up. He really didn’t want to scare Y/N by fucking her too hard like he was used to. So his one saving grace could be holding off until she came again in hopes of her being too far gone to notice that he was doing anything out of his norm (what she knew to be his norm).

Harry continued slowly pressing in but Y/N decided he was moving too slowly. Yes, his cock was large but she was confident, especially at that point after two orgasms and how wet she was, that she could take him. She lifted her legs and pushed her heels into his ass, “Need more, please, Harry,” she panted. 

Harry clenched his jaw and his nostrils flared. She smelled so good and the way she was prodding him with her feet and her words… he called on all of his strength, all of his restraint to keep himself in line. If she wanted him, he’d give it to her but he still had to take a moment to have his good sense at the forefront.

“I don’t know if you realize what you’re asking me, little girl,” he bucked into her a little harder, his dick reaching into something that riled a pain sensor from her insides, “can you take me? Want me to stuff you full?”

Y/N was already half wondering if she’d regret it but she knew she wouldn’t. Deep down, there could be no regrets, no matter what he did to her. She wanted it. She could almost taste his lust and his need for more. He needed more and he was holding back but she didn’t want that. She wanted him to show her what he could do. 

“Fuck, Harry. Yes! I can take it…” her nipples were peaked and her chest rising and falling fast. She braced herself for him to finish it - push in until she was yelping and aching and having him hold her hips down so she couldn’t wiggle away from him. She wanted it. Needed him to ruin her. 

Harry shook his head and closed his eyes. She wanted it. He could show her a bit. Give her a little show and see how she responded. Maybe she’d like it. Maybe he could increase the intensity slowly. Maybe they were a perfect fit. 

Harry allowed her heels to push him further into her and with the abrupt movement, he could really feel her silky, warm insides giving way for him. He moaned as she kept pressing her feet into him, urging him in. When his cock sunk in to a point where he was halted and she hissed he looked down. A shaky breath fell from his mouth as he sat back to his heels and pulled back a touch, watching himself push back into her.

Y/N moaned as he shallowly rolled his hips and began to bring his length out and push back in, slowly working up to get into a faster pace.

“Kitten, it’s so pretty. Wish you could see this like I can,” he realized she wouldn’t be able to see his cock submerging and shiny with her smeared over his length, her pussy gripping him as he pulled out and the way his cock slowly got deeper.

She couldn’t see it but she could see him, see his abs contracting, his strong thighs steadying himself and keeping the cadence in a healthy rhythm. And she could hear it. She was wet and his cock was hard and even if she knew he wasn’t all the way in she could hear the way he was plunging into her, how she was drenching him as he dipped in deeper.

She also noted that perhaps she’d been a bit too confident that she could take him so quickly. She was hoping he could just pound into her and fuck her into oblivion but there was a reason he was being so gentle. Because each time he poked in as deep as he could get it ached and she could feel him pushing into something that had never been reached inside of her before. 

But if she hadn’t been so turned on, hadn’t already had two orgasms that may or may not have given her tunnel vision at that moment, perhaps she’d have been more self-aware but she didn’t care. She’d always heard that being aroused and having sex made people dumb, and maybe that was what was going on now. Hell, she was letting him go in without a condom and she absolutely did not feel a single bit of regret, at least at the moment. 

“Fuck me harder, Harry…” she gasped her words and Harry squeezed his eyes closed. He was going to have trouble with this girl if she was asking him for things like this. He really thought she’d be in pain or be squirming away from him with how big he was. 

So he angled himself to hover over her, allowing his pelvis to rub at her clit instead of his finger because he was going to give her what she wanted if that’s what she really wanted. 

Harry licked his lips and continued his shallow thrusts, looking into her eyes, “You want me to fuck you harder?” He rocked into her further and her mouth dropped open wider at the intrusion but she only nodded. The girl was reckless.

“Yeah? Like this?” He did it again, pushing in hard and moving a hand up to her neck so she wouldn’t move upward too much when he started to get deeper, wanted to hold her still.

“Yes, yes… oh my god…” she panted her words and grasped onto his forearms again, one was holding himself up with his palm on the bed near her shoulder, the other was holding her down.

So he obliged, dragging himself out nearly to his tip, and rushed back in with a heavy movement inward causing her to gasp again.

For Harry, it felt nice going slow but increasing the pace and pushing into her deeper felt more natural and fed his desires, making his heart burst for her. It wasn’t just physical, even though the act itself was, it was also securing a bond with her to be pushing into her and pleasing her with a part of him, and in turn, her body was doing the same for him. His kind understood this way of thinking - the physical part as an expression of something deep and unbreakable.

And for Y/N, that sentiment wasn’t much different. She liked that he went in slowly and gently at first but when he began to thrust himself harder and deeper it felt more real to her. It felt like she was finally getting the Harry that she met under the full moon who looked wild and intimidating, despite having a gun aimed at him. This was the Harry that showed up at the lake and swam around her like a predator. He was always there. She’d gotten glimpses of this part of him. And it’s what she wanted because she wanted him. 

Harry’s deep groans above her drowned out her own breathy ones. His hand around her neck squeezed lightly, not as hard as he could, but just enough that any noises she made were stifled. The space Harry took up on top of her was powerful. His momentum was greedy and gouging. The spreading ache that traveled through her guts was satisfying, energizing. 

“Do you feel this? F-fuck…” Harry’s abdomen was on fire. The pleasure that was building in him needed to be quelled until she could come. He was losing his composure.

She did feel it. Y/N felt it with her whole being. She felt the coiling tension tightening and releasing with each roll of his hips. Her skin prickled and burned with need for him. She was sticky and slick between her legs and his pelvis was grinding into her clit every time he pressed in. Her mind was buzzing and heat pooled in her low back as he sunk down into her. Every inch of her that he filled belonged to him. She couldn’t deny it. 

His eyes were bright as he watched her. He could tell she liked it. She was enjoying how hard his cock was and the way he buried himself into her over and over again. She only got wetter and her pretty face was getting hot. He could feel the mess she’d gotten all over his groin, he was wet all around his cock and his senses were in overdrive. Her scent was on his tongue and the sound of her pussy being spread apart and pushed into could be heard each time he stuffed himself into her. He could feel her muscle tightening and squeezing around him, gripping him as he move in and backed out. She was going to come again. 

Harry slowed his movements and Y/N’s body stopped jolting from the force of his thrusts. Removing his hand from her neck her grip loosened from his forearm, and he pulled out. His movements were swift as he flipped her to her tummy and pushed her thighs apart. Her chest was burning. She had been so close and if he’d continued for a minute longer as he was she would have finished.

As it was, though, instead of having a third orgasm for the night, suddenly she was being manhandled and grabbed by her hips as he leaned over her back and licked from the top of her back thigh, over her bottom, and up her spine with the curve of her back. She shuddered at the feel of his wide tongue on her back and when he repeated on the other side she swore she felt a vibration coming from him. 

She felt him spreading her bottom with his hands and then his knees nudged at her thighs as he lifted her hips so her ass was in the air. He leaned over her back, both arms caging her in, his chest pressed into her shoulder blades, “Want it like this, kitten?”

Y/N nodded and turned to look at Harry over her shoulder, “Yes, please.”

Harry groaned and kissed her neck, pushing her hair off the side he pressed his lips to. Pushing his nose to the back of her ear he used his tongue to wet her lobe and then nipped at it. She moaned softly as he lowered his mouth and then nipped her neck, pinching at the skin just enough that she felt it.

“Love hearing you say please,” he spoke into her ear, “such a good girl.”

He straightened his arms and leaned back so he could glide his tip through her crease before pressing his cockhead to her entrance. Her pussy was swollen and glistening and so pretty. And so fragrant. He would never get over the way she smelled and just knowing he was going to be coated in her scent made him feral.

And just like the first time he pushed into her, the small tight ring of her entrance gripped at him as his thick head forced its way in. 

They panted as he began long strokes into her, slipping out and then rocking himself back in. He held her at her hips as he undulated in. His grunts were deep and breathy and the way his fingers dug into her flesh pinched but she loved it. Wanted him to grab her and handle her like he wanted. She trusted him wholly.

His hips were meeting her bottom and she felt his length poking deep. She yelped when he pounded into her a bit harder and grasped the blankets below her, “Harry… yess! Oh!”

She’d always enjoyed a little pain while having sex, though she’d never been fucked by someone who was so big. He couldn’t help it really - he was only giving her what he was naturally working with and that idea alone made her head spin. He had gotten her so wet and so worked up and he was the best without question so the ache and pinch of pain felt incredible. 

Harry let go with one of his hands and brought his fingers into her hair, pulling her neck back as he leaned over her, “You want to come? Need to feel good again, kitten? I can tell you’re already shaking.”

Y/N’s eyes were squeezed closed and the sting of his fingers pulling at her hair and tilting her head back was tantalizing, “Yeah… I need… oh! Fffffuck!” Harry’s hips smacked into her bottom, the sound of him fucking into her with his body meeting hers made the experience even hotter. The noises coming from them, the ache in her thighs and her guts, the way her head spun and her pussy dripped.

“I know what you need, dirty girl. Go on. Rub your little button so you can come like you want.”

Harry was clenching his teeth. She had sweat built up at her hairline as she shakily brought her hand between her legs and began quickly moving her fingers back and forth over her soaked pussy, pressing into her clit.

“Thank you! Oh my god!!” She felt herself unravel and her toes curled, literally curled (that was a first) as he pushed into her with such fervor that she felt like she’d fall off the edge of the earth if he wasn’t holding onto her hair and her hip like he was. 

She pushed against his thrusts as her body began to light up and spark with an orgasm unlike any she’d ever had. His cock pushed through her insides and split her walls, his fast pace causing his bulbous head to drag and press into her g-spot. She thought she was vibrating, flying, screaming but she couldn’t be sure as she pulsed and cried. 

The one arm holding herself up nearly gave out and so Harry only held her tighter to keep her pussy angled for him. He allowed her a few good moments of coming undone, his long cock slipping in and out quickly and smoothly, the mattress starting to creak the tiniest bit.

“Fuck kitten, ffffuck… you’re so good, so good…” Harry tightened his hold on her hair making sure she couldn’t turn her head to see his eyes glow golden when he couldn’t hold back any longer, finally letting his orgasm wash over his body. He moaned loudly and permitted himself to purr when he knew she wouldn’t notice, not with the way she was shaking under him. He loved being able to let himself go with his true form but holding back his knot was slightly more difficult. Because he knew she was ovulating and his body naturally wanted to breed her, to keep her attached to his cock as he continuously pumped his come into her. Even if he knew logically he couldn’t get her pregnant, his body yearned to respond as if it could. But knotting in her would probably have her running for the hills, the moment his knot subsided, that is. So, holding back his urge to knot was slightly painful but it was worth it not to scare her. His nails pinched into her skin, warm come filling her body as he continued fucking himself into her as deep as he could reach. As deep as her body allowed. 

Looking down at where he was sinking into her was picture worthy. His come was dripping from her and his cock was coated in her creamy release and his own. He flushed hot as he continued pouring into her, grunting and feeling her pulse and flutter around him. Her whole body was convulsing and covered with a small sheen of sweat.

She removed her fingers from her clit when she didn’t need the stimulation anymore and her pussy was getting too sensitive. Harry continued thrusting, going slower, more gentle as his own release was finally subsiding. She put her face into the blankets and moaned as his length slowly pushed into her and then pulled out all the way. He watched his come drip down her folds and toward her clit as he scooped it up with his tip and pressed it back in, plunging deep to push his sperm into her further. Wanted her body to feel it all.

Y/N was spent. She was breathing hard and still a little shaky but Harry was still fucking her slowly, the sloppy wet mess getting pushed into over and over again. It felt good. His cock was still hard but she was positive she had not another orgasm to give him. 

She put one of her hands back to find Harry’s that had been gripping her hip, “Harry! Ahh!” She laughed as she squirmed a bit at how tender her insides were from his cock moving through her.

Harry chuckled. He knew she was getting sensitive with the way she was lightly jolting each time he pushed his thick head into her. He knew he could make her come again if he kept going and he could too, even. 

“Yeah? Too much, kitten?” He pressed in quickly and deeply one more good time before releasing her hip and taking her hand over his and slotting his fingers through hers. Pulling out slowly he groaned, “So fucking pretty, though. You sure you can’t handle more?”

Y/N groaned and turned her face, her eyes were closed, “I’m sure. That was a lot.”

Harry paused and then pulled her up and into his arms, “Was it? Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes and nodded lazily, “Of course, it was amazing, Harry. I’ve never come so hard in my life. There’s just a lot of you and you are… well, you’re still hard even, so somehow you can just keep going and going and… I’d need to really prepare for that. Maybe once I’m used to how big you are…”

Harry grinned and wiped at the sweat on her forehead, “I’ve never come so hard in my life either.”

Before she could protest she felt him grab her into his arms and sat her at the edge of the bed. She winced a bit, she was definitely sore, but he didn’t notice as he was busy looking for his shirt. After retrieving it, he dressed her in it as per their custom, and even put his pants back on- a tricky feat considering he was still hard, to Y/N’s disbelief.

He took her back into his arms then and proceeded to walk them downstairs to the kitchen. “Dunno about you but that really opened up my appetite!”

Y/N deadpanned at him, “You can’t be serious! I’m ready to pass out!”

“Oh, but the night is still young, darling.” he murmured into her ear before placing her gently on a chair at the kitchen table, “I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. She was in deep, deep trouble with this man. 

“Besides, it’s been too many hours since you’ve had something to eat, since we skipped dinner. But I’d cooked something for us. I was intending for us to sit down and share a nice meal in the new house, but the little minx had other plans, didn’t she?”

Y/N’s mouth fell agape at his insinuation. And why was he so energetic? He was practically sprinting around, all joyous and ready to gear up for round two. She truly hoped a late dinner would help her bounce back a bit, too. She was, in fact, quite hungry now that he’d mentioned it.

Harry heated up the creamy squash risotto with parmesan and once he’d set the table and everything was in place, he grabbed Y/N into his arms again and sat her in his lap, instead. “That’s more like it. Wanted to do this back when you cooked me pizza, too. But it’s alright. You’re naked this time around so it’s even better this way.”

“I am not!” 

Harry raised an eyebrow and snaked his hand under the hem of his shirt she was wearing and she swatted it away, “I thought you wanted to feed me, not feel me up.”

“Why, are the two mutually exclusive? Who says I can’t have my cake and eat it too?”

Y/N kept her mouth shut. She figured she’d best play along if she wanted to go to sleep before the sun was up. 

She slumped against him, she really was tired. But he held her straight and even spoon-fed her. She really enjoyed what he’d cooked for them but she was too tired to even chew properly. He’d even paired a fancy bottle of wine to go with it all, but she refused, knowing that if she had any alcohol she’d fall asleep right there and then.

She really couldn’t comprehend how Harry had any energy left, let alone how much of it he had. And his erection hadn’t gone down, she could feel it poking the side of her thigh from time to time. Eating did help a little, but she knew she was gonna crash soon. She was just exhausted, what with her plane ride and the emotional rollercoaster of seeing his new house, topped off with the way she’d had 3 amazing orgasms that had sucked every ounce of energy she’d had left in her. Maybe Harry had sucked it out of her when he ate her out, who knows.

She giggled at the thought of that and Harry’s attention snapped back at her, “Look who’s feeling better.”

“Slightly better. And I don’t know if better is the right word. I was feeling amazing already. What would’ve felt better than that would’ve been sleeping in your arms right about now.”

“Soon. Let’s head back, hm?”

Y/N nodded and after Harry downed the glass of wine he brought them back into the bedroom. He placed her gently back on the bed, took the shirt back off of her, and got her under the covers and after discarding his pants and groaning at the feel of being free of the confinement, he slid in next to her, pulling her into his arms immediately.

Y/N was confused. She was expecting him to pounce on her the minute they got back into the bedroom. She grazed her hand over his muscular thigh and further up, and sure enough, she felt him still hard against the back of her hand.

“What are you looking for, kitten?” he murmured amusedly.

“Well, did you change your mind?”

“Thought you were sleepy.”

Y/N furrowed her brows. Well. She had been. She was. But maybe not as much? And, well, she couldn’t just leave him hanging in good conscience. So, she slowly pulled out of his arms and watched him look at her confusedly as she sat on her knees next to him. She kept the covers around her middle and straddled him, scooting downward so that she laid directly over top of his cock, having its crown nudge at her entrance as it laid flat between them.

“Y/N… I was just teasing you a bit. Well, not initially. But when you barely ate anything at the table I realized I was pushing it a bit. We don’t have to do anything, I’m more than happy with–”

But she silenced him as she lowered over him and kissed him languidly. “Don’t be deceived by this position, I’m not intending on riding you. Well, not tonight. But you can fuck into me and hold me close. Go slow…”

Harry grunted. He loved the sound of that. It was exactly what he’d had in mind anyway, except he would’ve had her be a pillow princess for him and not do any work whatsoever. This worked too, since he had better access to her tits that he felt he’d neglected thus far. 

He adjusted himself so that she could sink onto him, ever so slowly. She winced and wiggled in his lap, and he knew this would be the one downside to this position. He knew she was sore from before, could tell with just the way she would adjust herself in his lap as they ate. But she was being so brave about it, and his heart soared with how she wanted to please him.

He lavished her breasts with his attention, fondled and licked and sucked at them and he held her steady and fucked into her slowly, careful not to have her sink over him abruptly. But she was surprisingly wet for him. Which aided her to glide down on him considerably. “Looks like you weren’t quite done with me, either, kitten.”

Her only response was a breathy moan, and he decided to stop teasing her. He gathered her against his chest and bent his knees holding her spread for him as he picked up the pace somewhat, but still kept his strokes languid and drawn out. She began kissing up his neck, licking and even nipping at the flesh there, just the way he liked to do to her. 

Harry moaned loudly at that and she figured that must’ve been one of his erogenous zones. He worked her against him in time with his thrusts, making sure her clit was rubbing against his pubic hair and she was already trembling, her breath hitched. 

It was slow and sloppy and wet and sweaty, and Y/N couldn’t help but think to herself that this was a lot like making love. The realization made her quiver and then she felt something inside her snap. And it wasn’t just her release, but her feelings for him overflowed and engulfed her completely. She let it all wash over her as she heard and felt him let go, following her immediately.

Y/N gasped when he dropped her down to the bed on her back and got in between her legs, attaching his mouth to her core as he pushed her thighs apart. She squealed and tried to writhe away but he held her thighs tighter and spoke against her cunt, “Stay still. Need to clean you up. Be a good girl for me.” And well, what was she going to say? He was gentle as he lapped her up and slurped their mixed liquids out of her cunt. But then in a more shocking move, Harry leaned over her, his mouth just above hers as he grasped her jaw, causing her mouth to fall open and spit their release over her tongue, “Good fucking girl. Best dessert either of us could’ve asked for.”

Harry waited a little to fall asleep. He wanted to watch her eyes flutter shut and listen to her breathing even out before allowing his own eyes to close. He was surprised at how well she took him and he realized he’d underestimated her. He was also surprised at how well he’d stayed composed as he came inside of her. He was scared he’d simply lose it but he didn’t. He allowed himself to come and enjoy her body like he wanted and it turned out better than he thought possible. He was able to purr and let his eyes glow in her presence without her having any idea of those things happening. And not knotting in her was a shame, but he could handle it. He’d be okay to keep his instincts and his urges at bay if it meant he could have her like that every night. 

He felt like he’d really gotten away with something immense. Of all the times he’d imagined this moment, it had always seemed so far away, unattainable. But getting to finally fuck her and have her coming on his dick felt like everything had changed. It was real. He’d done it and had succeeded in controlling himself. Harry nuzzled into her neck and his arms tightened around her before drifting off to sleep with a smile on his face.

*

Y/N woke up with the bed empty. She looked around the lovely master suite with the light falling through the curtains and smiled, stretching her arms overhead when she remembered how amazing the night before was. But the moment she tried to climb off the bed she was reminded about how it was more than amazing… it was also a bit rough. Which she of course loved, but the aftermath was catching up to her.

When Harry saw her limping into the kitchen he stopped what he was doing, placing the spatula down, and hurried to her, “Are you okay? Fuck… did I do this?” He looked her over and saw the smallest bruises at the sides of her neck and then a larger bruise on her thigh peeking out from his shirt.

Y/N laughed and put her hands on his biceps to push him back a little as he was examining her skin. If he saw the topmost parts of her thighs where he’d bitten her he’d really freak out, “I’m fine. Don’t worry! God, Harry… last night was so good. Please don’t worry. I’m going to bruise a little once in a while, but don’t think that this wasn’t worth it. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

She felt herself getting hot just imagining it all over again. Because she truly wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. The way he let loose and just grabbed her and pulled at her, bit her… She would happily welcome him that way every single time they had sex.

Harry looked up at her, the worry on his face carving frown lines on his forehead, “You’re not hurt, though?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled lovingly up at him, “Harry… will you listen to me? I said I’m fine. I loved every single moment of last night and if you dare try and hold back from me because you think you’ll bruise me then I’m going to be very disappointed. You are so good. The best ever. Please… that was exactly what I needed.”

Harry smiled and his features softened at her words, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now, what have you made me for breakfast?” She asked as she sat down and he served her a plate of eggs and toast with a bowl of fruit on the side and a grin on his face that told her he was about to say something cheeky.

“None of your rabbit food. You need sustenance for the kind of physical activities I’ve got planned for you, missy,” he smeared a bit of pancake batter on top of her nose at that and then turned his attention back to the pan to flip the next one. 

Y/N had trouble coming to terms that this was the same man that had fucked her raw the night before, even though he’d started out gentle at first. He turned to look at her as if he'd read her mind, and the sweet dimpled smile slowly morphed into a smirk, a very eloquent example of the duality of who Harry was.

They ate their breakfast in comfortable silence and then she remembered to ask as she cleared their plates “Have you set a date for dropping off Eddie at your uncle’s?”

“No, you said you wanted to come with, and I wasn’t sure what your work schedule looked like after your trip.”

“Well, the thing is today is kinda my only day off this week. The station was understaffed while the majority of us were gone for training, so now we got to pick up some slack and let the seniors take a few days off, too. And since you just moved in here… I dunno, feels like the right thing to do. Not to get Eddie too used to this new house, you know? I bet it’s pretty confusing for him as is… It just breaks my heart knowing how he’s going to suffer from separation anxiety again.”

Harry furrowed his brows watching as Y/N was getting visibly upset over it. More than just upset, she got teary-eyed and tried to hide it from him. He tilted her face to look into her eyes and he was once again taken aback by how much the girl cared for his nephew. He thumbed away a lone tear that fell from her eyes and caressed her cheek with the now moist fingerpad, “I know you’re worried about him, and I’m sad to do this too, but I wouldn’t even be considering it if I didn’t know it’s for the best. Remember, we discussed this, hm?”

She nodded and let her cheek rest against his palm, closing her eyes and sighing, “I know, but he’s just a puppy and he’ll feel abandoned before it gets better…”

Harry had already talked to Edward about it while she’d been away. And while his nephew couldn’t communicate how he felt about it, he knew he understood it was for the better. And the prospect of having other kids of his own kind to play around with was really exciting for him. He was actually looking forward to it. Of course, he’d miss his uncle, as Harry would him, but it’s not like he wouldn’t go visit every once in a while.

But of course, he couldn’t explain all of this to Y/N. In her mind, Edward was just a puppy, in which case, she’d be right. So he didn’t try to argue with her on this. “He won’t feel abandoned because he’ll have a lot of new people and… puppies to play with, and he’ll be distracted. He’ll be showered with attention and love, he won’t have time to feel alone. And we’ll go visit. If you want.”

“Of course!” Y/N hugged him then, and it occurred to Harry that this was the first time she’d ever hugged him, aside from cuddling in their sleep. In fact, Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever been hugged before. He put his arms around her and buried his nose in her hair and was very aware of how perfectly they fit together like that. In fact, Harry was more and more surprised with how good it felt to do things like this, things that gave him pleasure other than just sexually. He enjoyed kissing her without it having to lead to sex, or holding her in his arms at night, touching her just to feel her close- when driving, for instance, and now, hugging.

“Alright then,” he pulled away and ran his fingers through her hair a bit, “I’ll go get him from Niall’s and call my uncle to give him a heads up, and then we’ll be on our way there.”

Y/N fidgeted a bit before asking, “Could you drop me off at my place first?”

Harry figured she’d want to pack her belongings and move them in, and so he nodded smilingly, looking forward to her seeing the way he’d spruced up her place while she was gone. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about her landlord now, everything was looking better than before.

But her reaction when they got there wasn’t exactly what he’d expected.

“Harry… what have you done?”

“I fixed up the place like I promised.”

“But you did more than just replace what was damaged… I mean… there was no reason to re-paint… it doesn’t even smell like my place anymore. And… and… ugh. I know this is going to sound very ungrateful of me, but, Harry… I was hoping I would have a say in what you’d buy to replace the damaged items…”

Harry’s smile faded progressively. He cleared his throat, his brows furrowing in worry, “I, uh… Yeah, I guess I did take the liberty of replacing everything with stuff I personally liked, but, since I’d hired the designer for the house, I brought her in here too to help me fix up the place as quickly as possible. And besides…” he lowered his eyes, gluing his gaze to the tips of his chelsea boots, “I didn’t think it’d matter all that much, since… I was hoping you’d be moving in with me, in the new house…”

Y/N sat down on the new sofa and hid her face in her palms. This was so overwhelming. She appreciated his good intentions, but he was overstepping, by a long shot. This was her home. Well, she didn’t own it, but she’d been renting it ever since she’d moved there and it was the only thing that felt homey to her. And now it felt entirely alien to her. 

She felt him approach her and crouch in front of her, and then he asked her in a soft voice, “Will you please look at me?”

She removed her hands and took in his concerned expression.

“Did I fuck up?”

She bit her lower lip, and slowly nodded which made him frown even deeper, “I know you meant well, Harry. But this was my home… and now, it’s… it just isn’t, anymore. And… don’t get me wrong, what you did, with the framed photo and certificates… that was very sweet. And I think I showed you just how much I loved that gesture,” she gave him a pointed look, “but even if… I have nothing against keeping them there… I was thinking more like… me staying over for a few days, then you coming over to mine for a few… then maybe a few days apart…”

“... Apart?”

He sounded so disheartened that it made her heart sink. But she needed to be truthful with him, “I mean… I can’t believe you were really assuming I’d be moving in with you right away, Harry. I mean… we’ve only known each other a little over a month… and we’ve only been official for a week! Don’t you think this is moving a bit too fast?... Like, I don’t even know what you do for a living! And how you can afford to buy a house like that on such short notice. Or the cars you have. I don’t even know your last name, for fuck’s sake!”

Harry was at a loss for words, which was an alien concept for him. But he truly didn’t know how to counter all of what she said.

Y/N felt like she was suffocating watching him process all she told him, and she stood up abruptly, needing a bit of space. She went into her bedroom, which of course, was nothing like before. It was nice. It wasn’t like she didn’t like it- she actually really liked it, his taste was very refined, but it just wasn’t her. She groaned in frustration while Harry watched her from afar.

He felt like shit.

How did he ever think she’d be okay with him taking all of these decisions for her? He’d been warned, Niall had told him as much- humans need their space, their freedom. Especially Y/N, what with how independent she was. He’d fucked up.

But what hurt the most was the realization that she’d only be spending a few days with him at a time. She didn’t want to move in with him, not for good. She’d still want to keep her place. Her freedom. And now he’d taken that away from her. 

And she was right. There were still so many things she didn’t know about him. But she’d never know the full truth, and that had already been eating at him. This just underlined how much she’d been going into this blindly with him. How unfair it was to her. She didn’t know the full extent of what she was getting herself into with him, no matter how much he told her about himself. 

He reluctantly sat up. He didn’t know what to do to fix it. He walked over to the bedroom and found her sitting on the edge of the bed looking defeated. “I’ll bring the designer back, have her redecorate with your choice of furniture–”

“Harry, it’s not that! You’re missing the point… I don’t mind what you picked out, I do like it. I like your taste, the place looks great. But I had no say in any of this… You’re just making choices for me, and I’m… I’m not comfortable with that. Stop assuming things, alright?... I’m my own person. I don’t need a man deciding for me!”

Harry winced at that and took a step back. Then another. After a beat, he cleared his throat, “I’ll go get Edward. I’ll be back in a bit if you still want to come with me to my uncle’s…” Then he promptly left. He couldn’t bear looking at her knowing he’d disappointed her like that. She was hurt by the way he seemingly overlooked her input into any of this. But it wasn’t like he thought she didn’t have a say in any of this… Of course she did. He’d just been… really excited, and went overboard. Wanted to make it so that she wouldn’t want to say no to moving in with him, without realizing he was twisting her arm to do so.

He’d never been so angry with himself. 

*

Y/N wasn’t sure Harry was going to come back, at this point. It’d been 3 hours since he left to go get Eddie. She didn’t know what was stalling him, but she’d eventually started getting things done around the house. She put a load of clothes in the wash and had even stepped out to get a morning-after pill. 

The whole scene earlier had sobered her up. 

The last thing she needed was a surprise pregnancy to tie it all up. 

Harry was… intense. She’d known this from the start, of course, but she’d never been with someone as… possessive as he was. And while she enjoyed his dominant personality, especially in bed, she was still a very independent woman at the end of the day. 

But as minutes turned into hours, and she’d had time to cool off, she realized she may have overreacted a bit.

Harry had been well-intentioned. He’d wanted to surprise her and had everything replaced by the time she came back from her trip, even went above and beyond with the fresh coat of paint and the deep cleaning. That in itself meant that he wasn’t just assuming she’d move in with him no matter what. Why would he go through the trouble of doing all that if he was so sure she’d move in with him? He could’ve just cleaned up the apartment since most of the furniture was her own, and she’d have been all settled up with the landlord and good to go. No, he wasn’t sure she’d say yes. And he came up with such a sweet way to ask her to move in with him…

Y/N felt like a jerk. Yes, Harry may have had an unconventional way of showing his affection, but he’d been genuinely well-intentioned. She could tell what she told him had taken him by surprise. And he even offered to have the designer come back in and help her pick out something else. Which she wouldn’t, of course, but she liked that he realized he’d overstepped and wanted to fix it the best way he could.

She was about to cave in and call him when she heard a soft knock on the door. When she opened the door she found him standing there with his arms crossed. It was all so weird to her. Harry was very self-assured, she’d never seen him so wary and tentative. He was picking at his lower lip and not saying anything and she smiled at his nervous gesture. 

“Where have you been? Thought you said you’d be right back.”

“I stalled. I hate seeing you upset, Y/N. I’m so sorry I overstepped. I didn’t mean to. That was never my intention. I want you to do what makes you happy- and if the prospect of moving in with me isn’t what makes you happy… then I need to accept that.”

She grabbed his hand away from his lips and tugged it, pulling him inside and closing the door behind him, “It’s not that it wouldn’t make me happy, Harry. Of course, it would. But it would also make me feel very anxious and vulnerable. I need a bit more time, it’s just too fast for me… That’s all I’m saying. I need to feel like I know you a bit better.”

Harry nodded rapidly, “Yes, I understand. You’re right. Take all the time you need. The offer is on the table, alright? I won’t ask again and pressure you.” He took a step closer and placed his hands on her hips. The hours he took to clear his mind and man up enough to face her again had been agonizing. He was afraid she’d cut him out of her life completely. He even imagined her breaking up with him. After all, she told him point blank that she didn’t need a man. He’d been afraid to face that possibility. For the first time in his life, he’d been a coward. 

But here she was, smiling at him and touching him, and pulling him inside her apartment. And immense relief washed all over him. He hadn’t lost her. He needed to tread carefully, but she was still there. Still his. He rested his forehead against hers, inhaling her scent deeply. He couldn’t lose her. Not after what they’d just shared the night before. He knew she was his mate. His life would never be the same without her in it.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Forgive me? I’m going too fast, I know. But I can’t help it with you. I’ll try, for your sake, to dial it down. Don’t want to scare you off…”

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. She hadn’t realized Harry felt so strongly for her. The truth was, she was holding back, too. She already felt like she was in love with him. 

“The only thing that scares me is how I feel for you,” she admitted, whisperingly. “I know it’s too soon to feel this way, and I’m trying to… dial it down, like you said. But it’s not working.”

He pulled back the tiniest bit to look into her eyes. Could it be that she was feeling the same way? Could it be that the reason she didn’t want to move in together yet was because she was trying to pace herself? “Don’t hold back,” he murmured.

And Y/N wished it could be as simple as that. But she was afraid. Maybe she’d build up courage, but for now, all she could do was kiss him. And she poured all her heart into the kiss. She felt him sigh contentedly through his nose and the tension from his body leave as he pulled her in closer, flush against him, and deepened the kiss. She moaned into his mouth and Harry couldn’t fight the smile on his lips as he kept kissing her. “There’s my kitten. Not running away from me, are you?”

She shook her head between kisses and then pulled back to catch her breath, “I meant it when I told you I’m yours, Harry. And you didn’t scare me off. Your intentions were good, and I know you meant well. I… may have overreacted a bit. But that’s only because… I do want to move in with you, and it scares me… “

Harry cupped her cheeks, “Let’s just take it slow, ok? Just have some stuff over at the house, and if you ever feel like you need some space, you can come back here for a few. And I’ll be understanding, alright? Do it at your own pace. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Yeah?” she smiled. She really liked that idea. If it ever got overwhelming, she could come back to her place. 

“Of course.” he smiled back

“Okay,” she bit her lower lip as she grinned wildly. He kissed her again, and again, and again which made her giggle and then she finally unglued herself from him, “Let’s go, we got a long drive ahead of us.”

*

Y/N insisted on holding Eddie the entire way to Lester’s, which warmed and annoyed Harry in equal parts. He wanted to keep his hand between her thighs (no funny business while his nephew was around, of course; just to feel closer to her). But seeing as this was their last few hours together, the 3 of them, for the foreseeable future, he allowed it. 

Part of the 2-3 hours he’d spent stalling before going back to get Y/N had been talking to Edward. He again explained the situation and why it was best for him to go live with his uncle, and the little one seemed excited to leave for this new place where he’d be having so much more fun. Harry felt guilty taking in his nephew’s enthusiasm. Had he selfishly kept him with himself this whole time when he could’ve done this from the get-go, just like his uncle had suggested? Harry had a hard time coming to the realization that, maybe, sometimes other people did know best. As an alpha, it was a hard pill to swallow. He thought he’d done the best thing for his nephew, but nothing good had come of it. He hadn’t even been able to shift back this whole time since his brother had passed.

Harry looked over to Y/N's lap and saw he’d fallen asleep, she was still petting his fur lightly. He could tell the girl had grown attached to the little one. He wished he could tell her the whole truth of it and put her mind at ease thoroughly. But for now, he was happy that she saw his angle and agreed with him, even with as little as he could share.

“Gonna take you in to see my work when we get back,” he announced at one point which perked Y/N's ears up.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You should’ve asked me sooner- I didn’t even realize I hadn’t brought it up before.” A lie, but he decided he’d have to stop feeling guilty for the small white lies he had to tell her in order to protect her. He’d had time to think this through while she was away on her trip, and the only way forward was to keep her in the dark about his wolf. She could never know about that part of him. If the pack were to ever find out, she’d be killed in cold blood. And he could never risk that. Not to mention, he was certain she’d not want anything to do with him once she found out what he was. It was either this, or give her up completely. And he was so far gone now that that wasn’t even an option anymore. “You noticed I have a thing for cars, I remember you pointing it out. And I do, it’s a passion of mine. I decided to turn this passion into something profitable from a very early age. My brother also was passionate about this, but I saw a business opportunity there and I picked up from where he’d started and turned it into what it is today- essentially, a car shop that specializes in collectible vehicles. Everything from reconditioning and scouring for parts, to dealing with vintage or rare models. It started off small but it’s well known in the industry now and I have people flying in from all over to see the goodies I have in store for them.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. That was very fitting, indeed. And it did sound like it would earn him a lot of money. “That’s very impressive, Harry. And it’s something I could tell you’re really passionate about. I’m excited to go see, thank you for taking me.”

Harry glanced at her, “Of course, kitten.” He pinched her chin playfully before turning his head back towards the road.

“Wow, you must think my car is shit, don’t you?” she laughed. “I mean, I already suspected you did. Any chance you could just see it as… vintage? It is old, after all.”

Harry laughed at that. “Yeah, erm, vintage… sure. I had a plan about that, but since this all is moving too fast for you, I’ll keep it to myself. For now.”

“Harry…” she warned.

“What? I didn’t say anything! But at the very least let me take it into the shop and have the guys look at it, make sure it doesn’t disintegrate or something. You can have your pick of mine while they’re at it.”

“Absolutely not!”

“You haven’t seen all of them! Surely you’ll find something you like!”

“That’s not the point!” she laughed. “Is that your love language, then?” she asked after a bit.

“... Love language?”

“Yeah, you know… the way you express, uhm, affection. I think yours is acts of service. Could be gift-giving, too, but I choose not to believe that! Hmmm… maybe physical touch, too.”

Harry furrowed his brows smilingly. That was an interesting notion. He couldn’t say she was wrong, though. 

“It’s definitely gift-giving, too.” he felt her nudge his side and chuckled. “Tell me about your trip, what did I miss while I was busy with the house? Hopefully, Nick didn’t try and pull anything…” he tightened his grip on the wheel just at the thought of that weasel.

Y/N scoffed, “No, but he was annoying. He snores. That wasn’t fun at all… But overall, I did have fun. Even made a new friend!”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, the new girl. Her name’s Irina. We really hit it off! I’m excited, to tell you the truth… I haven’t really made any real friends since I moved out of my hometown. But she seems like someone I could really be good friends with.”

Harry felt silly for feeling a pang of jealousy at that. He selfishly wanted her all to himself, he wanted to be her friend as much as her lover. He knew she needed her own friends, rationally, but why did this Irina person have to show up now, of all times? Would he need to share Y/N’s free time with this person? …Would tying her to his bedpost be considered a love language? He tried to hide his childish reaction and smiled, “That’s nice, darling. I’m glad.”

He felt weird about it; he’d been a bit preoccupied for the past few days and she’d already made a new friend without him even knowing. He’d really neglected her those last few days of her trip, he realized. He hadn’t been aware, he was so caught up with everything trying to get it all ready for her in such a short amount of time. “...Did you really think I wasn’t going to show up at the airport?”

Y/N lowered her eyes to the pup snoozing in her lap. She would miss the little fellow. “I mean… you were acting really distant. I didn’t know what to believe.”

Harry reached out and grabbed her left hand, squeezing it tight in his own, “I’m sorry. I got caught up. I didn’t realize I was neglecting you because you were on my mind the whole time.”

Y/N smiled looking at how he was holding her hand in his much larger one. She was so glad she’d been mistaken, “You were on my mind too.”

“Yeah?”

She looked up at him, “Yeah.” She didn’t think she’d ever tire of looking at his handsome face. He was just so effortlessly attractive that it made her head spin sometimes.

He brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it before releasing it, “I called the designer, by the way. She’ll get in touch with you so you can set up a meeting with her and go over what you wanna change–”

“Harry! No! Why’d you do that for?!”

“I told you I would, and… wasn’t that what you wanted? To have your own pick of furniture?”

“No! I mean– yes, but not now! I love what you picked, I just wish we could’ve picked together. But it’s done now, and I’m not making any more changes.”

“... Are you sure? It’s perfectly fine with me!”

“I’m sure. It’s the principle of it.”

“I understand that. I can’t undo it, unfortunately… And I did apologize.”

“I know. It’s behind us now, alright? Let’s not bring it up again. I promise I like what you picked. Besides… I’m not planning on spending that much time at my place, anyway.”

Harry grinned and looked over at her, “I like the sound of that.”

“Mhm, I had a feeling you would.”

After a beat, he cleared his throat, “What about the house? Do you like how I decorated it?”

“Yes, I told you, Harry. It’s amazing. You’ve got great taste. It’s easy to go wrong with such a big space but you managed to make it feel cozy, too. I really like it.”

“Ideally, I would have wanted you to help me decorate. Or even choose the house. But I also wanted it to be a surprise… Now I’m not so sure I made the right decision. Should’ve waited for you to get back first.”

Y/N was taken aback. “Wow, Harry… that’s… a lot. I appreciate it. But it’s your home, after all. It’s your decision.”

“Pretty ironic, isn’t it? I got to redecorate yours and you don’t get any say in mine?” He sighed heavily, ”I don’t know how this was lost on me… “

Y/N could tell Harry really was beating himself up about it. She felt bad for reacting the way she had back when he took her to see her apartment earlier that day, but it was too late now. She didn’t want him to feel this guilty over it, but she was happy that she’d gotten her point across and made him see it was important to her that he didn’t overstep and threaten her independent nature. 

She wanted to find a way to put him at ease but a wave of nausea hit her out of nowhere. She tensed up and gripped the door handle to her right, and even Eddie perked up, feeling something wasn’t right.

“What’s wrong?” Harry’s voice immediately changed from soft and comforting to its usual cool tone.

“Can you pull over? I’m… oh, god–”

Harry pulled over immediately and Eddie scurried off her lap as she threw the passenger door open and swiftly climbed out of the car.

Harry got to her just in time to hold her hair back as she began throwing up on the side of the road. She tried pushing him away but he wouldn’t budge. She could fight him all he wanted on this, he wasn’t going to just sit back and watch her be sick and not do what he could to try and help her.

Harry wondered what had prompted it. They did take a break from their late-night activities to eat the meal he’d cooked for her in his new lavish kitchen. He’d fed Niall from the same meal before she got there. And it seemed perfectly fine to Harry. But then again, Niall and himself were a lot less prone to falling sick. In fact, it would take a whole lot for their kind to feel any kind of discomfort in general. What they’d had for breakfast was perfectly fine too… He racked his brain trying to figure out what could’ve possibly made her sick. 

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grimaced, “Oh god, I hate that you saw that.”

Harry furrowed his brows, “Don’t be silly… what’s wrong, is it car sickness, do you think?”

“Ugh. No. It’s that damn pill.” she sighed heavily. Unfortunately, she’d been down that road before once when the condom broke and she had to resort to emergency contraceptives, and she’d ended up throwing up, just the same. But this time, it hit her out of the blue. She had felt some cramping and mild discomfort, but she’d ignored it for the most part.

“...Pill?”

Y/N stammered a bit, “Yeah… the morning-after pill. I went and bought one and took it while you were gone. I’m not on birth control. I’m sorry- we should’ve discussed this last night… There just wasn’t any time, I got carried away…”

“Hey, hey…” he pulled her into his arms, “What are you apologizing for? I didn’t do anything about it, either. And now you’re feeling sick because of that. I’m the one who should apologize.”

Harry’s mind was going a hundred miles a minute trying to remember what all Niall had told him about contraception. After he’d hinted at Harry possibly getting lucky, he proceeded to lecture him about the human notion of safe sex. He told him that if Harry was lucky, she’d already be on birth control. If not, he’d have to use a condom. When Harry argued that they didn’t need protection since he couldn’t actually get her pregnant, Niall laughed and told him that although that was correct- Y/N had no way of knowing this. And this was just to rule out an unwanted pregnancy, but humans also had to worry about sexually transmitted diseases. A foreign concept to their own kind, as, again, their immune systems were almost infallible. That’s how they were built. Not to mention that the same way he couldn’t impregnate her, he couldn’t pass on anything else to her, even hypothetically. 

And after Niall had left, he proceeded to google about it further. Should he have to wear a condom to put her at ease, he needed to know how to go about it. And while he was reading about it, he came across the morning-after pill as well. He recalled it was a way to avoid an unwanted pregnancy and that it was only meant to be used on extremely rare occasions, but he wasn’t aware it’d cause the woman to be sick. Not to mention she hadn’t mentioned it to him, and it was all taking him by surprise.

He’d even bought condoms and tried putting one on before she came back. He made sure to get the largest size but Harry all but ripped it off of himself when he tried putting it on. So when she didn’t mention it, he kind of assumed he might have lucked out as per Niall’s earlier lecture and be on birth control.

Knowing he was going to brave the condoms going further was worrying him somewhat. He needed to buy some more to test out. The last thing he wanted was for her to catch on that he’d never really used one before. But if human men could do it, he could pull it off too. 

She shook her head, snapping him out of his train of thought, “We were both a bit reckless, I guess. But, for what it’s worth… I’m clean. And if there’s something I should know… now’s the time to speak up?” she grimaced awkwardly and Harry had a bit of difficulty processing what she was hinting at before it clicked for him.

“Clean as a whistle. I wouldn’t have let anything happen and put you at risk like that, you know that, right?”

“Right. I mean, same… but just double-checking. I’ll be switching to birth control, though. Been meaning to for a while now, for other reasons.”

Harry was really lost now, “What reasons?”

“Oh, you know. It helps with other stuff, like severe cramping while on my period, heavy flow… ugh, I can’t believe we’re having this awkward conversation on the side of the road after I’ve just puked right in front of you,” she laughed, covering her face.

Harry wondered if she’d ever get over all these human concepts she was fretting over so much. None of it phased him in the least. Were human men so awful that they were repulsed by normal bodily functions? Probably so. Pussies.

“I don’t want you doing anything you’re not comfortable with. I’ll wear the damn condom if you prefer it.”

“I appreciate that… but after last night? I’m pretty sure I’m willing to risk those side effects.” she grinned slyly.

“... Side effects?” Harry’s eyes widened in worry.

Y/N laughed at how clueless men were in general, but Harry was a cute one at least. “Relax. I told you, it wouldn’t be the only reason I’m going on birth control. Now let’s get going, but first- can you stop at a petrol station? I really need to rinse my mouth and buy a pack of gum.”

Harry helped her back inside and rolled his eyes when Y/N turned her head to the side when he wanted to give her a peck.

Guess she wasn’t going to get over those silly things anytime soon, then.

*

Arriving at Lester’s, Y/N could see a long stretch of fenced land, acre after acre. Some outbuildings, and then a large home came into view when Harry turned in and passed the gate that was opened. The gravel path toward the house was long, the car tires kicking up rocks and dust as he got closer.

Then she saw a large man with dark hair waving on the porch. He quickly descended the few steps to greet them at their car, coming around to Y/N’s side. Harry rolled the window down and shut off the engine as Lester stuck his hand into the window, “I’m Lester, you must be Y/N.”

Harry had told his uncle about the girl. That she was human and that he’d made her his girlfriend. He felt like Lester was someone he could confide in fully and he hadn’t really had anyone to tell about Y/N aside from Niall. He knew he wouldn’t judge him but it was somewhat unusual. His uncle told him not to worry one bit. He was accustomed to interacting with humans (as most of his pack was) and he wasn’t at all deterred by having her around. He ensured the girl would be safe and none the wiser.

The moment Y/N stepped out of the car, Eddie was wiggling to get out of her arms so she put him down and it was like he was a wind-up toy that had been set loose. He shot off and ran around the side of the house until he was out of sight. She began to jog after him but Lester reassured her, “He’s alright. Let him explore. This is his new home and he’s going to need to get used to all of this after all.”

The three of them sat on the porch together and drank lemonade and chatted. It really felt like an old farmhouse with wicker furniture and a glass pitcher of lemonade. There was a windchime that trinkled when enough of a gust would blow through but everything else around them was quiet aside from their own chit-chat.

Y/N noted Harry’s resemblance to his uncle, which she knew to be his mother’s brother. He seemed relaxed. Happy. Even she felt the peace of the place. It was different than the peace she felt in the forest. Here it was as if life could really slow down and just happen. It was beautiful. 

Eventually, Eddie greeted them on the porch, tail wagging and tongue hanging out of his mouth. Lester got him some water and then he led them into the house to show them around. At the back of the house, there was a large metal barn and a tractor. It seemed like an ideal place for a pup to run. 

Lester showed them to the hallway where the bedrooms were, pointed out the bathroom, and then pushed open a door to a bedroom, “You two will stay here in Harry’s old room, that is if you were intending on staying in the same room?”

“Yes, we’ll take the room together. Thanks, Les,” Harry spoke as he gently touched Y/N’s low back. 

After Y/N expressed her disappointment in the lack of Playboy posters and other incriminating evidence of Harry’s teenage years, they got back downstairs as dinner was served by Alma. A delicious roast chicken with potatoes and a fresh garden salad that she seemed proud to have picked just that morning. Y/N loved every bite of everything she ate. She wondered to herself if Harry adopted his skill for cooking from his aunt. It would make sense since he spent the majority of his adolescence here with them. 

Once the dishes were clean and put away, the four of them, with Eddie trotting ahead, went toward the barn where Lester kept tools and supplies for the farm. 

“Oh, are there no animals on this farm?” Y/N asked looking around the barn at the shelves and open stalls that were empty.

Harry and Lester made quick eye contact, “No animals for us. We’ve got lots of crops, though,” The man seemed proud of his farm, “In fact tomorrow afternoon I’ll take Eddie with me to the rest of the land where we can let him run and explore near the alfalfa fields and meet the other farmers at the other side of the plot. They’ve got some, uh… pups that he can run with. I bet he’s going to love all of this once he gets used to it.

They walked around a bit for a bit of a post-dinner exercise as Lester continued to show them, well, her, around. Y/N felt truly at ease with everything. The farm was perfect and Lester and Alma were absolutely amazing. She was already imagining her and Harry visiting again for a weekend away and to see Eddie. She would never have pictured a more ideal place for him. 

Turning in to their room for the night, Harry took note of how relaxed and even happy Y/N looked. She truly hadn’t sensed anything amiss, and he had his uncle and his pack to thank for it.

Harry was relieved that everything had gone so smoothly with Edward, and how he seemed to have integrated so easily into what would now be his new home. But most of all he felt good to be back to what was essentially his home for a large part of his life. After his parents had passed when he was just 9 years old, he came to live with his uncle until he came of age and moved with his original pack, of which his brother had turned leader of. 

But he’d always missed this place. He felt like a traitor to have always preferred his uncle’s pack to his own, but there was just no comparison. He never dared speak it out loud to anyone, not even his uncle, let alone his brother while he was alive.

He couldn’t help but think that here, with this pack… maybe he could tell Y/N the truth and their lives would be completely different. He wouldn't need to give up this part of himself like he'd been doing for her sake.

Because he now knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that when they got back home he needed to start putting wheels into motion and step back from his pack. 

He was going to renounce his title as alpha leader and go on his own way, as a lone wolf, the same way Niall had.

But with this pack, here… maybe he wouldn’t have to. 

The capital rule of never disclosing the secret of their existence to humans was common for every pack. It was to ensure the continuity of their species, and it was universally applicable amongst his kind. But he knew that here, he could make it so that the pack members would make an exception for her. For him. They loved him here, and so did he, and they were family. They would understand what predicament he found himself in and would allow this one exception. Because he trusted Y/N to not tell a living soul about them. And they, in turn, would trust his trust in her.

That, of course, if she would still want him once she learned the truth about him. Once she knew what he was, saw him in his wolf form even… something he couldn’t even dare imagine. In his mind, she could never want him after discovering what he was.

…But what if she did?

Harry couldn’t stop from fantasizing about this perfect scenario. That would solve all his problems. All his guilt he felt, having to lie to her about it to keep her safe… He could finally be free of that burden. Free to be himself, his true self.

“You’re very quiet today.” Y/N pointed out as she unpacked some of her stuff from her overnight bag. She’d been the one to do most of the talking on their car ride, too. “Did the drive tire you?”

Harry loved seeing her there, in the house he grew up in. Seeing her surrounded by his kind was surreal. She had no idea how dangerous it was for her to be there, even though she was in no danger at all. Nobody would hurt her. But if they wanted to…

And she was oblivious to it all. She trusted him completely, to bring her with him there, and she had no clue as to what kind of danger she was putting herself in. 

No human had ever spent the night amongst the pack. Sure, their community was much different than the one he ruled over- this one was hiding in plain sight. Living amongst humans, apparently- but in reality, humans only came through there in passing but never lingered more than necessary. Their community was enclosed to only their kind, albeit not in a literal sense, without it being in the least obvious to the human eye that they were different in any way.

But Y/N had been allowed into the alpha leader’s house. She was sleeping over. Everyone in the pack knew and gave their silent agreement. Everyone in the pack saw Harry and her together and didn’t bat an eyelid. Because they trusted Harry. And they could tell, of course, that Y/N was absolutely unaware of the truth of the matter. He knew he’d have their undivided support.

And Lester had brought this up with Harry before- asked him to consider staying with his pack, instead of going back to his own when he turned 18. But Harry felt he owed fealty to his own pack, to his brother, and his father’s legacy. He felt that was the right thing to do, to go back to his own family.

He’d been wrong.

Harry realized pretty soon that his own pack wasn’t all he’d remembered it to be- and a far cry from the one he’d grown up with. His own were much colder, boorish, and aside from Niall who he made friends with right away, he wasn’t close to anyone other than his immediate family- Harry’s brother and his wife. 

And he could feel it affecting him as well- it made him colder, more incisive, cutthroat, and scheming. He went from a curly-headed adolescent with dimples and a bright smile to a long-haired lanky young man with a perpetual scowl on his face at all times in a matter of months. He called it growing up, maturing, becoming an adult- but he felt robbed of the life he’d had back with his uncle’s pack. He felt alone and built walls around himself to gain respect and instill fear amongst his own.

Up until now.

Harry circled Y/N’s waist from behind and rested his head on her shoulder, hugging her to him. It felt so comforting. He never knew all these small touches could make him feel so good. “No, I’m not tired.” He nibbled at her earlobe a bit and felt her squirm in his hold and her breathy giggle was enough to have him thicken in his trousers for her. “Not yet. Want you in my arms again; can I have you, Y/N?”

Her eyes widened as she turned in his hold, “What, here?! But– your uncle…”

Harry grunted, digging his fingers into her waist, “What about him? We’ll be discreet. I know you like to be loud for me, but you can try to be quiet, right, kitten? Be a good girl for me and hold those pretty moans in this pretty throat of yours?” he lowered his eyes to said body part and then grabbed it abruptly, pulling her in for a kiss that turned heated very rapidly.

Y/N nodded against his lips, “Yes. I will, I’ll be good for you.”

Harry could purr at how easily she fell into her role with him in the bedroom. It was like second nature for her to turn to putty in his hands, and it made him absolutely feral for her.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he cooed, pecking at her lips and parting from her, “Let’s practice first, hm? I’ll give you something to muffle those moans and whimpers. Go on, get on your knees and take me into your mouth and let’s see how well you can keep quiet. If you do a good job I’ll give you a treat, hm? How’s that sound?”

Y/N hadn’t expected the sudden shift in his demeanor and it made her wet her panties immediately. She could feel herself gush at his words and her skin was tingling, aching to put her hands on him and feel him close again. She shakily lowered to her knees and slid her hands up his skinny jeans, feeling his thighs strong and muscular beneath them, and then palmed over his very visible erection. Harry unbuttoned his shirt as he watched, parting it to grant her proper access to his crotch, and then discarded it as she began unbuttoning his fly. 

Seeing her on her knees for him was making him breathe heavily in anticipation. He could smell her arousal and the notion that the prospect of sucking him off was turning her on so much was reinforcing just how perfectly made for each other they were. His pleasure gave her pleasure and vice versa. 

When she finally wrapped her plump lips around him he rolled his eyes to the back of his skull and hung his head back in relief. “Ffffuck…” he hissed, and she in turn moaned at his reaction.

He immediately snapped his eyes back on her and gathered her hair into his fist, pulling tightly, and her off of him with a loud pop, “What did I say, Y/N? Quiet. You want this?” he grabbed himself and tapped his crown over her lips, watching as she stuck her tongue out for him. His eyes hooded with lust at the sight, she was a dirty little thing. How could he deny her?

But Y/N didn’t know she was in someone else’s house that, although rooms away, had a very acute sense of hearing. Her tiniest whimpers could be heard if his uncle wasn’t asleep- and even so, as an alpha, he’d be on high alert even in his slumber. He didn’t want to be disrespectful, even though he knew his uncle wouldn’t bat an eyelid. Sex was not a taboo subject amongst his kind as it tended to be for humans. But he just didn’t want to share any bit of what he did with Y/N with anyone. Her lewd moans were for his ears and his ears only. He didn’t want anyone else hearing them.

Y/N batted her eyelids innocently and nodded, the movement of her head ensuring his tip dragged up and down her tongue and Harry gripped her hair even tighter before releasing it, making her slide down on him and she gurgled as he hit the back of her throat “Then show me how much.”

She pulled back, a long string of saliva connecting them as she tried regaining her composure. She nodded obediently and got back to work, licking him thoroughly before sticking him back into her mouth. Harry thumbed at her jaw, coaxing her muscle to relax and take more of him in, slowly but steadily. He kept whispering his praises to her along the way, reminding her what a good girl she was, how good it felt, and how proud he was for how quiet she was keeping.

He found it hard to keep silent, too. Harry was quite vocal in bed, and he loved expressing himself freely and uninhibitedly. But there was just something so hot about this, also. When she started tugging at his scrotum he bit his lower lip trying to keep his grunts to a minimum “You’re going to make me cum, kitten. Gonna swallow me down?”

Y/N nodded the best she could with a full mouth, she’d attempted getting him down her throat a few times and her vision was blurred with tears, but she tried blinking her eyes clear to look at him as she did so. 

“Should that be your treat, then? Or do you need something else?”

Y/N squeezed her thighs together at that. She hoped he’d take care of her too, she was a dripping mess. She whimpered as softly as possible which made Harry smirk mischievously. “Such a needy little thing. But we didn’t get condoms. So I’ll just have you ride my face for tonight.”

Y/N rolled her eyes back at the sound of that and increased her movements over his shaft. Harry gripped her hair in his hand again and watched Y/N work him with all she was worth. She was just perfect, she felt amazing and was doing such a good job listening to him. He wanted to prolong this for as long as he could for his own selfish enjoyment, he loved seeing her on her knees struggling to take him down her throat and shedding tears at the intrusion. He was just too big for her slender human throat, but he enjoyed watching her try and overcome her physical limitations, it stroked something in him he never knew he needed. But he couldn’t hold back any longer, the urge to fill her mouth to the brim with his warm come was too strong. His first load was always the heaviest and, sure enough, she was choking on it soon after he reached his climax. He watched as she tried to swallow around him multiple times, but his come was spilling down the corners of her mouth and she was helpless to try and stop it from going to waste. 

Harry shuddered as he watched the sight below him transfixed. “Gooood girl, Y/N, good fucking girl. Get up here. Wanna bury my tongue into that pussy immediately.”

But Y/N had a different idea. She stood up and brought him down to her level to kiss him. She loved how he enjoyed it thoroughly, other guys she’d dated would’ve refrained from kissing her right after they’d come in her mouth- but not Harry. If anything, he moaned into her mouth, finding it just as hot as she did. And she knew he would, after the way he’d lapped up their mixed juices out of her cunt the previous night and even gave her a taste. “I love the sound of that, but… Would it be too greedy of me to ask for your cock, too? Please?” she whispered against his mouth, looking straight into his eyes as she did so.

Oh, the girl was a brave little thing. He loved it. Made him smirk against her lips before she even finished her breathy plea. He knew she was ovulating, and therefore was what he would describe as “in heat”, and wanted nothing more but to comfort her and satiate her needs, but unfortunately, that also meant she was at the peak of fertility, and he’d just witnessed her be sick on the side of the road because of his recklessness the previous night. He didn’t want to cause her any more suffering, he knew she’d worry if they had sex again, so as much as it pained him, especially knowing she had no actual reason to worry, he had to turn her down. Which went against every fiber of his being. It was wrong, it was the very opposite of what he should be doing. But what could he do…

“You know I’d love nothing more, Y/N, but–”

“I have condoms in my purse. Bought some when I went to get the pill,” she then lowered her eyes to his chest and played with his sparse hair there as she murmured, “I’ll even put it on for you while I sit on your face?... Please?”

Harry’s mouth fell agape. How could he say no to that? He spun her around and swatted her bum, and she reached for her purse, fumbling to find the foil packets she’d thrown in there.

By the time she turned back around Harry had already discarded his pants all the way, and grabbed her, undressing her with urgency. She let him manhandle her, she loved it when he got like this. He climbed on the bed and pulled her atop of him, twisting and turning her in his arms as if she was weightless, and immediately latched his mouth to her dripping core. She was momentarily frozen, taking it all in, he’d got them into position in record time, faster than she could make sense of it. He lapped at her frantically, spreading her open for him, and stuck his tongue as deep inside of her as it would go, making her slump against his body and let out a louder moan than she’d intended.

He immediately slapped her bum, harshly, enough for her to cry out but then he reached for her hair and gritted through his teeth, “What did I say, Y/N? Hm? Bad girl. Want me to stop?”

She tried not to cry out at the sting of both her sore ass and her hair being tugged at harshly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s just… so good…” she whimpered quietly and Harry let go of her hair at that.

“Don’t let me remind you again. Now get to work like you promised.”

Y/N steadied herself on her knees as Harry resumed his assault on her pussy, and tried to focus on the task at hand. She was looking at his erection as though it’d never gone down. She wrapped her hand around him and sure enough, he was hard as steel- he didn’t need any help there. She just needed to get the condom on him and they were good to go. 

If she could just coordinate her movements, that is- he was eating her out so good that she couldn’t focus. She also had to keep in mind to stay quiet, and it was proving so hard. She figured the faster she got him ready, the faster he could fuck her and hopefully he’ll help her with that. Maybe he’d kiss her or better yet- choke her.

The prospect alone made her hurry up. She took the condom out of the foil and carefully began unrolling it onto Harry. She’d done it before, but he was so girthy that she really had to work it down him. She’d bought the biggest size, too, but it looked like it was strangling him.

She could hear, or rather feel his muffled moans against her core though, and she realized he was enjoying it. Of course he would, though, she knew by now Harry enjoyed a bit of pain mixed in with pleasure. Much like herself.

When she finally got it all the way down to his base, she secured it in place fisting over it a few times, and then stopped to enjoy his mouth on her for a bit longer. She ground herself against him a bit and felt him dig his fingertips into her ass that he’d been holding tightly all throughout and then wiggled a bit to catch his attention, “Ready. Please fuck me, now.”

Harry felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. Everything the girl did and said to him felt amazing, he couldn’t wait to get her back to his new house and fuck her against every surface. Hear her loud moans echo through the vastity of the house. But for now, he quite enjoyed this little game, trying to keep quiet and failing for the most part. He secretly loved having to punish her a bit, and he knew she did too. He could read her body cues like the back of his hand, but even to the untrained eye, she was visibly into it. She liked it rough, the dirty little thing.

He lapped at her juicy core a few more times before flipping them over, watching her giggle quietly at the way he was throwing her around. He noticed she enjoyed that. She’d likely never been with someone as strong as he was, and he was holding back even, as to not freak her out with his inhuman strength.

He hadn’t properly prepped her for him though. The way they’d gone about it the night before was meticulous and ensured for a smooth penetration. But he knew that if he went slow and easy, and kept rubbing at her clit, she’d open up for him. So he got into position and bent to kiss her thoroughly, making a mess of her little face, smearing her juices all over her too, and then focused on dragging his tip through her folds. 

It felt different like this, to be sure. He’d never used a condom and wasn’t sure what to expect. But it didn’t take away from the pleasure the way he thought it would. Maybe it had to do with his heightened sense of touch that he was still able to feel her against him pretty well.

“Here, I’ll do it.” she murmured, taking her hand to her clit, “Want you to use your hands on me. Hold me tight.”

Harry didn’t usually enjoy directives in bed, he very much liked to be in charge. But this was different, and he liked the idea of having both hands free to roam all over her, not just her clit. He fondled her breasts and mouthed at them while shallowly thrusting inside her, and she used her other hand to card her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp languidly. Harry found it most difficult holding his purring in check. He wished he could do that in her hold, and he knew she’d enjoy it too. But he focused on what he could do and increased his cadence somewhat.

She didn’t need any more lubrication, he could feel her wetting his thighs but still, he sat back on his haunches and watched as he pumped into her halfway through. He slowly spat right over where her fingers were rubbing her pussy and Y/N’s mouth fell agape at the lewd action. She increased her speed over her clit and he felt her begin to tremble when he knew he’d started bumping against her sweet spot inside.

“That’s it. Come for me and I’ll slide all the way in, kitten, give you all of me. Go on, let go for me.” he gritted through his teeth, trying to reign it in. It was taking all of his restraint not to push all the way in yet. He watched her dainty fingers rub at her button frantically as he dragged his tip against her g-spot again and again and then she finally came, thrashing violently under him,

He could feel her contract around him and he took advantage of it, pushing inside deeper and deeper until by the time she was coming down from her high he was fully sheathed inside of her. 

“So full.” she whimpered quietly, “So good… God, Harry.”

He lowered over her, supporting his weight on his elbows, caging her lithe frame in between them, “Wanna go slow this time around. Is that alright?”

She nodded, holding her breath as he began moving inside of her again. 

“I’ll fuck you hard when we get back home, don’t you worry,” he squeezed her throat for emphasis once, before releasing it and turning her head by her jaw to the side so he could lick and suck at her pulse point to his heart’s content.

“I love it any way you give it to me, Harry. No one’s ever made me feel so good.”

He smirked against her neck, nosing at it between nibbles, “Yeah? Love my cock, sweetheart?”

I love you- was what she almost blurted out. She even stammered, trying to refrain from saying it. She didn’t know what had come over her, but she felt it, felt it deep in her bones. Harry picked up the speed slightly and began grinding his public bone against hers with every thrust, and suddenly the feeling was overwhelming. 

She didn’t know whether it was because of what was at the tip of her tongue or how good it felt, or both, but she felt her throat close in and she gasped for air before tears began welling up in her eyes. She tried to fight them, but they flooded her vision and started tumbling down to the sides of her face as her breathing got more and more labored.

Harry first tasted her tears against his tongue as he was kissing under her jawline before he saw them. He pulled back a bit, taking the sight in, “Y/N, what’s the matter? Am I hurting you?” he slowed his movements abruptly but she circled her legs around his waist, urging him to keep going.

“No, not at all. Feels amazing. You feel amazing. Please, don’t stop.”

He caressed her face, thrusting slowly into her while he inspected her face tenderly, “Why are you crying, sweetheart?”

“I just– it’s overwhelming. I feel so much. Keep going, baby.”

Harry’s heart began galloping at the sound of the pet name. Baby. No one had ever called him that. He never even knew how much he’d love hearing it murmured out of her sweet mouth.

He kissed her then, picking up the pace and giving it his all. He could still feel her hot tears mingling into their kiss. She was so fragile, so sensitive and loving, and she was all his. He wished he could show her how he really felt about her, how much he felt too.

She gasped against his mouth and tried to muffle her cries of pleasure, kissing him with abandon as she came again. And Harry finally allowed himself to finish too, basking in the feel of her pulsing around him in time with his own release. He would miss the feeling of filling her up and pumping his come back inside of her, but he knew the condom was just temporary.

Because she said she’d be going on birth control when they got back home.

Either that- or he’d man up and tell her the truth of it. Being here made him hopeful about the possibility of coming clean. And in the moment, he felt like she wouldn’t run from him. He felt like she belonged there, with him, with his kind. He knew he’d probably sober up the following morning, but for now, he allowed himself to fall asleep with her in his arms pretending it had already happened- he’d told her the truth, and not only did she not run from him, but she wanted to live there with him, amongst his kind, and embraced who he truly was, fully. 

Baby.

*

Harry slowly woke up when he felt Y/N moving in his arms. He loved waking up with her next to his chest, her scent covering him. He wanted to have sex with her again, eat her out even but he knew they needed to get going. It was a long day ahead, they had to head back home in time for Y/N’s afternoon shift at the station, and Harry knew that they’d have plenty of time to explore one another the way he wanted.

While Y/N was taking a shower Harry sat with his uncle on the front porch as they drank their morning coffee.

“You made the right decision bringing Edward here, son. He’s going to thrive here, just you wait. You did your best, but there’s no reason a young alpha like you should babysit that little firecracker. Besides, you’re absolutely right. He needs kids his age to play around, coax him out of his wolf.”

Harry had a faraway look in his eyes. His uncle could tell there was more to his visit than just the little one, but he wouldn’t prod if Harry didn’t feel like opening up about it to him. 

“I feel like I’ve failed him. Failed my brother. And I’m about to fail my pack as well…”

“You didn’t fail anyone. You did your best under the dire circumstances that you’ve described. What your pack is doing is unfair to the boy. I wouldn’t blame you at all if you were disappointed in them. You should focus on not failing yourself. And that girl you brought here. Hm?”

Harry looked into his uncle’s eyes which the man took as a sign to go on.

“I really like Y/N, Harry. She’s smart and she’s very nice. She loves Edward, too. I can tell you two are a good match. You love her?”

Harry blinked his eyes and watched out over the sprawling grass and the trees at the edge of the property. He knew his answer. He even felt his heart rate increase at the notion of it. But it felt odd to speak it. He was an alpha and taught all his life that speaking such things was weakness. It was quite another to show your possessiveness over your mate, but to say the words…

“You don’t have to say it. It’s clear how you feel. But you do need to be careful. That pack of yours won’t accept this, you know. She’s observant. Keen. She’s not going to be someone you can keep all of this from forever, you know? She will catch on at some point. So, you’ve got a big decision to make.”

Harry lowered his eyes and gave the faintest nod to acknowledge his uncle’s observation. It was hard for him to voice his decision that he’d already made. But soon he’d have to announce it to the council. So he had better find his voice and stand up for what he believed in, as guilty as it made him feel. It was his truth and he needed to honor it.

Lester continued when he noted Harry’s contemplation, “The offer for you to come here still stands. You know that, though. We could use a young alpha such as yourself. I know it was never your desire to be pack leader, so there’s no pressure in that regard. It’s up to you. Many here miss you and would love to just see you around. Alma and I look at you like our own son. If not yourself, then maybe Edward will lead us one day, like he was destined to. Or he could go back to his own pack, like you did.”

“Hopefully he’ll be smarter than I was in that regard,” Harry muttered under his breath.

Lester reached to squeeze his nephew’s shoulder. He didn’t hold any resentment and understood why Harry had felt like he had to go back to his own father’s pack when he turned 18. In fact, he respected him for that decision even though he’d suspected it may not be the best one. “And… if you wanted Y/N with you I’m sure we could make some exceptions,” the man winked at Harry and then left him to his own thoughts and to enjoy the early morning serenity that came with the place.

Harry looked at his uncle as he took his leave and nodded, still deep in thought. He really did miss his old home. The farm. The pack. Just thinking of going back to the preserve in his own pack made his stomach twist and fill with dread. He hated most of them. He knew he needed to make a move. Start removing himself from his community. Renounce his standing and wish for the best. But of course, even with that, his new priority was Y/N. Her safety, her life. He’d do whatever it took to keep her with him. Keep her happy and secure. 

Even if that meant living a lie.

*

Y/N was sad to leave Eddie behind, even though she knew he’d be much, much happier at the farm with Harry’s family. But she missed him in her lap on their way home. Harry placed his hand there in his stead, and she held it with both of hers, playing with his rings as they listened to music rather than talk on the way back.

Harry offered to drive her directly into work, but she wanted to take her own car and stop by her place first to change into her uniform. Harry pouted but she reassured him that she’d be coming back to his when she finished her shift later that night, which made him perk right back up.

Y/N genuinely loved her job, but she couldn’t lie- she could’ve used a few more days off to spend with Harry. Their relationship was still fresh and their newfound intimacy begged for more exploring. But she could wait. She was excited to finally have something to come home to after work.

On the other hand, she’d been looking forward to spending more time with her new friend. They’d arranged so that they would patrol together that day. When she pulled into the station’s parking space, she found out Irina had gone ahead without her and would be waiting for her at the first set of indicators along the trail. Y/N checked the time- she hadn’t been late, but she shrugged and after picking up her rifle and checking she had everything she needed in her backpack, she rushed to join her colleague further up the trail.

After they greeted, Irina told her she’d wanted to get away from Allen, and that’s why she caught a head start. Apparently, he’d talked her ear off all day about his new-found obsession with NFTs. They both laughed it off and proceeded on their patrol together.

Y/N not only liked Irina as a person, in general, but she admired her as a ranger. She was very skillful. She seemed to have an innate way of going about her work as a ranger like she’d been born and raised in the woods. In an effort to get to know her better, Y/N asked the young woman about her childhood, her studies, and training, to which Irina answered and then asked her some of her own questions. Hers were a bit more personal, but Y/N didn’t mind. If anything it was an indicator that the two of them were growing closer, which she was happy about.

“So, saw your boyfriend at the airport waiting for you. He really is all Lindsy was advertising him to be on the work trip, huh? Did he bring flowers? I only saw the scene from afar, I boarded off a bit later on than you did.”

Y/N blushed a bit at that. “Yeah, he did. He’s such a sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting it at all… and he even took care to choose flowers he knows I like. Most of them, wildflowers he handpicked himself.”

Irina’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, really? Is he a wildlife enthusiast such as yourself then?”

“Yeah, he is. That’s one of the things we have in common that brought us closer together. We, uh, we actually met here, in the preserve!”

Irina elbowed her playfully, “Shut up! Did you, really? Was he on one of the organized tours?”

Y/N bit her lower lip. She really shouldn’t disclose the truth about how they’d met but she figured it was harmless if she left out all the details that could possibly get her into trouble. Not that Irina would tell on her, surely. “No, actually– Well, I was on night watch duty, and I stumbled upon him and his… dog, that had run away from him.” Y/N took a short break to process that, realizing that had been awfully uncharacteristic of Eddie to run off like that. He’d never once budged from her own sight, let alone Harry’s, whom he obeyed thoroughly. She cleared her throat, continuing, “Anyway, he didn’t have any proof of ownership over the pup, and I took it into the station, told him to bring something to attest that he was the owner the next day. I even ended up microchipping his dog,” she laughed. “Was very thorough about it, like the dutiful ranger I am. And well, the rest is history, as they say…”

Irina furrowed her brows a bit, “Why didn’t you believe he was the owner?”

“Oh. Well, the little guy looked a bit like a wolf pup. I was making sure Harry wasn’t, you know, stealing wildlife off the preserve.”

“Harry… And, oh! I did overhear Tom and Nick talk about that, actually. They were saying how it looks like a wolf too. Well– obviously, it couldn’t have been a wolf since stealing a cub away from its mother would be pretty impossible.”

Y/N had always known that Eddie probably was, at least in part, wolf. She knew he’d been Harry’s brother’s but she never found out how the man came to be its owner. Also, how long ago did Harry’s brother die? Must’ve been awfully recently since Eddie was still a puppy. She realized she’d never asked Harry about these things before.

“Yeah, obviously.” Y/N parroted, clearing her throat again. This conversation was suddenly making her uncomfortable.

“Nick isn’t a fan of Harry’s, is he? I overheard him complain about him a few times. Even alluded to him having possibly spent the night at the station while you were on night watch before, just before the trip?”

Y/N swallowed uncomfortably, “Hm. Did he, now.”

“So, did he? Sleep over?” Irina elbowed Y/N playfully again.

But Y/N didn’t find it amusing, “No, he didn’t. He came early morning to drive me to the airport himself.”

“Well… Lindsy said he was there when she left work the previous night and he was wearing the exact same outfit the next day… just sayin’!”

Y/N worried her brows. Why were her colleagues all up in her business like this? She didn’t like it, not one bit. She had to be a lot more careful going forward, she didn’t want to be the butt of her coworkers’ jokes behind her back. Or their idle gossip, for that matter.

And the way Irina was prodding at her didn’t sit right with her either. She knew she probably meant well, and it’s what women their age would talk about, but they were also colleagues and for the sake of not getting into trouble, she couldn’t really confide in her the way she wanted to.

The weird part, though, was that she didn’t really want to. Y/N had a weird feeling about it, feeling as though she’d disclosed more about Harry to Irina than she’d originally set out to.

She didn’t know whether this was due to the fact that Y/N was so used to keeping everything to herself, having not had a good friend to confide in years. But she suspected this might have played a part in why she was feeling so weird talking about this to Irina. Maybe she’d learn to open up more, in time, but for now, she decided that her love life would be off limits, and she made a mental note to keep their conversation to more general topics.

“I liked our trip, but I missed this forest. Glad to be back.” Y/N tried steering the conversation in a different direction. “Are you excited to finally be starting? How do you like it so far?- Well, apart from Allen’s nagging.”

“Of course! I couldn’t wait. Although Allen did more than nag me about cryptocurrency, he also deemed it appropriate to lecture me about, quote-unquote, staying safe out there. Apparently, a ranger was found murdered not too long ago?”

“Oh, gosh. That’s really not the way to welcome you to your new job, but, I guess I can see why he thought it would be important you knew about it. Yes- apparently, the ranger I replaced was found killed after he went missing. They organized a search party and found him, but… we don’t have to talk about this today.”

“No, no. I don’t mind. He told me he was barely recognizable, is that so?”

“... Yeah, he might have been attacked by a pack of wolves.”

“Allen said he was poking his nose where he shouldn’t have been. That he was suspecting the wolves were perhaps… not just regular wolves?”

Y/N furrowed her brows. This was the first time she was hearing about this, “How do you mean?”

“You don’t know? Oh, honey,” Irina chuckled sardonically. “You don’t know about the Silver Wolf? The legend behind the name of this preserve?”

Y/N shook her head, she couldn’t say that she did. But she was intrigued now.

“Well, the ranger probably knew about it and chose to believe it to be true. The Silver Wolf wasn’t just any regular wolf. He was said to be as big as a kodiak bear, with silver fur and bright, golden eyes.”

“... Golden eyes?”

“Yes. Well, not just him, but all of his kind. But he was the alpha of the pack and one of the most prolific. He was the one to claim this preserve for their own.”

“Wait. You’re not saying… you mean to say the silver wolf was a–”

“Werewolf. But of course… You really didn’t know?”

Y/N furrowed her brows and shook her head again. Somehow, this conversation felt even more unsettling than the one before. 

*

Harry headed to the preserve to get a few things from his house while Y/N was at work. It was meant to be a quick trip, in and out. He hoped no one stopped him or wanted to chat. Of course, he wouldn’t have been that lucky.

“Well if it isn’t our fearless leader smelling fresh of human pussy.”

Harry heard him just as he was getting out of his car. James. A pack member Harry had no interest in dealing with whatsoever. 

James had been very outspoken against Harry’s appointment as alpha when his brother passed. He petitioned for position as true alpha, one who could defeat the alpha leader in a fight to the death but the committee vehemently declined- James was overconfident and underqualified. Harry could crush him with one arm and puncture his chest with his claws and kill him in seconds, all without even needing to fully shift. It was also James who went before the elders seeking to “do away with Edward for the sake of the community”. Harry was glad when the elders sent him away but he was surprised by how many agreed with him about Edward. He learned many things about his pack when his brother died. And he hated James more than any of them.

Harry stood tall as he closed his car door and glowered at the low-ranking member standing next to his house, ready to shift if needed. James was a loose cannon. He couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t attack him unprovoked in broad daylight. 

James moved toward Harry as a way to show dominance and Harry stalked toward him and stood over his frame, a low growl sounding from his chest, “Your mouth is going to get you killed. I suggest you leave while your life is still intact.”

James backed up and laughed lowly, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you wouldn’t have all your secrets at risk of being exposed.”

Harry felt his pulse increase and the fangs in his mouth ache for use, “Get the fuck out of here before I murder you. No one in the pack would mourn your loss.”

“Or, you could listen to my proposition. It would benefit us both.” 

Harry stomped toward James, his eyes golden and searing into the inferior, weaker male before him. He put his hand around his neck and pushed him into the wall behind his back and lifted the coward upward so his feet were dangling. He would have loved to have killed him and be done with it but he knew if he did that there would be a trial and there were many members who would side with the delusional fool.

And never knowing when enough was enough, James choked out his words, ”If you don’t remove those hands, there’s a high likelihood you’ll never use them again.”

Harry laughed sardonically and squeezed harder, “Shut the fuck up before I rip your throat out,” He growled as he unsheathed his claws, piercing into the skin of James’ neck. “This is your last chance, you fucking worm. The moment your feet hit the ground you better fucking run or all that’ll be left of you will be a stain on the grass.” 

Releasing his claws from James’ neck he fell to the ground, grasping at his bloody throat, and put a hand up in surrender as he leaned into the wall to stand. The moment he made it to the edge of Harry’s yard he turned and dared look Harry in his eyes when he spoke, “Big mistake alpha. Now your precious little human will end up just like the ranger before her.” 

Chapter 10

A/N: (@fkinavocado and @gurugirl here) DISCLAIMER-any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental 😅

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[blueiight]

“…i was haunted by my brother’s death, by the abandonment of my sister…”

majority of the conversation around paul in the amc setting revolves around the question of whodunnit, jokes about him at the second dinner table scene of the pilot, or paralleling his mental illness to louis [a parallel the show admittedly draws upon - with louis stopping his suicide attempt bc “paul forever ruining grace’s wedding night, and [louis] not wanting to do the same to claudia on the anniversary of her escape”] what i intend to focus on, is the specific nature of paul’s complaints with respect to levi, and what paul and claudia represent to louis.

in the book, paul wants louis to sell the plantations & town homes they own in new orleans, and give louis the money so that paul could travel and become a missionary saving france from the godless jacobins. the paul that we’re introduced to in the show is… similar in motivation, but fundamentally divergent. tithe the money over to st. augustine’s so the house dont fall in on them, but the first dinner table goes as this after he says that:

whats of note too is the divergence of the draft v the pilot release. the show excises the freniere family w the exception of levi himself to drive home how paul’s objections to levi’s religious and ethnic background are overruled by the lingering shadow of jim crow.

paul is also reminded that his autonomy is conditional in this first dinner scene here: louis quips back to his point about sugarcane with “if daddy was still here, you’d be locked up in that asylum over in jackson”. its a reminder of the earlier point, but also speaks to something else.

bc of paul’s profound mental illness, he would never be allowed to live an autonomous life, much less hold authority over anyone: whether its the man of the house [as louis was in the du lac family], or as a bride [grace] or as the mother [florence].

this is strongly reminiscent of claudia — someone whos personal autonomy is entirely dependent on the purview of physically mature vampires by nature of permanently being trapped in the body of a preteen. it is also reminiscent of claudia in that louis in both cases plays a sort of savior in relation to them — whether its louis taking paul out of the asylum, or louis taking claudia out of the burning rooming home. louis views paul and claudia, especially claudia, as people that save him from his own self-loathing.. claudia somehow possessing this redemptive quality re: baby jesus…

louis loves both of them deeply, but as iwtv has established, love as a feeling does not exempt someone from enacting violence toward you. in fact, the very loved one that harmed you has an entire framework of rationalizing that violent act as being ‘for your[my] own good’ as is.

the title of this little post comes from the season one finale, where louis collapses in on himself to try to make sense of why he spared lestat, invoking paul and grace to create this red herring to the ‘murder of lestat’. but truly, the thread is false. louis did not abandon grace, and lestat’s death was only an attempted murder sabotaged by louis. modern day louis in the season finale triggers himself through daniel in order to provoke armand, the “protector of his pain”, to reveal himself + question him on the death of claudia, just as he questioned lestat on the death of paul in s1e6.

[prettyboykatsuki]

warm-ups | sfw + rin + meeting

✭ tags ; established relationship, rin is a lovesick tsundere fool, fluff | ✭ wc ; 1.3k

✭ a/n ; im like two seconds away from taking rin off of my prompt wheels give someone else a chance im begging.

Ever since Itoshi Rin started dating you, nothing has gone his way.

Admittedly, he knows this is because he's had no control over the situation. It's a lesson he's been forced to learn so many times over it's starting to make him sick. He can't control his feelings no matter how tightly and how forcefully he holds onto them and that knowledge is something he resents everyday.

Even after aging out of his worst angsty teenage years, no amount of time has been able to soften his dislike for the idea of vulnerability. He was a sensitive, gentle sort of kid. After the incident with Sae (and the period of isolation from self-loathing that followed it), he wasn't really able to bounce back to that place. Sometimes it feels like a strange and vague dream that he only recalls when his mother reminisces about it.

The idea was in and of itself baffling. It wasn't like he was some patron saint back then either. He's always been single-minded in his own interest and involved more with his own shit than he was with other peoples.

The thing about feelings that Rin has always hated the most is how much they interact with other people. His feelings are his sure, but when things make him feel some kind of way, there's only so much he can do to snub them out. He can't get a grasp of them reasonably. They're so slippery and frustrating and agitating.

And he's tried for longer than he cares to admit to let go of them completely. But Rin, no matter how much he tries, can't be like Sae. That blasé attitude that makes everything seem like it rolls of Sae's shoulders isn't one Rin can afford. Even after some growing up and some growth and the begrudging friends he's made in the process - he never quite recovers from that truth.

At the very least, Rin figures it'd be easier if he could let himself be unaffected.

It doesn't work out that way, because when do things ever. And it becomes especially prominent in the process of falling in love.

How he's gotten into a relationship is a mystery he's yet to to solve. Rin can't think of any good reason you're dating him. Of course, if prompted he'll roll his eyes. But more candidly, he has no idea how that's worked out.

There's plenty about you that is objectively likable, though. You're nurturing and friendly and coaxing sometimes to the point of being pushy. In the process of getting to know you, he's been struck with how much you make him feel safe. Betrayal is a sore spot, he figures.

Rin trusts you with himself. He knows that even if everything burned to the ground tomorrow - you wouldn't ever air it out to the world. Not for a check or even if you hated him.

He has enough self-awareness to know that he's subpar in the emotions department. What you see in Rin is so often a mystery. Though when he works up the nerve to hint at reassurance, you kiss his cheek and sigh all lovey-dovey

("Dunno," You whisper, all warm hands and sweet touches. He hopes you don't ever figure it out "I can tell how much you love me though."

Rin scoffs. Of course he does. "You wish.")

He didn't fall in love with you on the path of least resistance. In fact, there are multiple instances where he outright sabotaged himself in the process. By being too cruel or too cold or callous.

But, because Rin never has things go his way, trying to leave it alone failed too. In fact every time you came back to him, he felt a feeling struck so deep in his heart that he couldn't look it in the face. Every time you came back and loved him so gently, he spoke a tiny and silent prayer.

Don't leave me too.

Not that Rin would ever admit that. To himself. To anyone for the record. But some part of him always hoped that he could keep you.

You've stayed, somehow. Long enough for your lives to become intertwined. He'd rather die before telling you he has to look at pictures of you before falling asleep on away games.

For better or for worse, it's all spiraled out of control. Now you're a year in and you live together. You even have a black cat (with blue eyes, which he has mixed feelings about.)

And right now, you're humming happily in his front seat and waiting to meet his friends. Something Rin would never in his entire life set-up on purpose.

But like he's said so many times before, things never work out how he wants them. And Isagi (like the backstabbing snake he is) has gone out of his way to invite you to lunch with his other teammates. Those guys are hardly his friends.

"I'm excited to meet your friends," You say, buzzing. He scoffs as he pulls into the parking lot, glancing over at you.

"They're not my friends."

"Rinnie. Baby, give it a rest. You spend more time with them than you do me, okay? Don't be silly."

Rin frowns, watching as you fix your appearance up in the mirror. He turns the ignition off and leans back with his arms crossed.

"Either way, I don't see why you're so excited."

"So I can get the autographs of a lot of handsome men who play soccer," You quip, knowing it's going to agitate him "Obviously because they're important to you. I want them to like me."

He thinks you're the last person that should ever worry about that.

"It doesn't matter to me what they think." He says, this time a little softer. You grin, pausing in your actions. You lean over the glovebox to nudge him and he turns himself to be close to you.

You're so close to him, smiling with all your teeth. He sighs.

"Aw, geez. You saying you don't care as long as you like me, right? How sweet of you."

Rin has to suppress a smile. He is disgusted with himself momentarily.

"I just think they're idiots." He lies, quite blatantly. You giggle, leaning forward. Your hand reaches up to the nape of his neck gently, sliding to his cheek. Your noses bump and Rin wants to turn the car back home and keep you all to himself. He wants to go home and sleep with you in his bed, with your cat rumbling around.

He wants to be all alone with you for an entire lifetime and he thinks it's gonna ruin him if he can't. He examines you closely. You look too nice for the general public to lay eyes on you.

"Don't be so mean, 'kay? Thanks, anyways, though."

You kiss Rin like you love him. Gingerly and playfully and whole-heartedly. Rin kisses back in the only way he knows how - clumsily and intensely and with the weight of a million unspoken desires. There's enough warmth in you for his cold, dead heart it seems.

And he is just not selfless enough to let go of it for any reason.

"You look pretty today," He says in a stupor, with just enough adoration in his system left to make him not wince. You grin big.

"You're so sweet to me."

Rin can be sweeter. Later, when you're home, he'll see if he can please you a little more.

He goes to kiss you one more time, but it gets cut short by a familiar screech.

"Everyone look! Rin is being all lovey-dovey."

The sound of Bachiras' voice makes a pang of irritation run through his entire body. He pulls away and glares through the window as his so-called friends crowd around his vehicle ooo-ing and aah-ing. He's going to fucking kill them.

He hears you from beside break out into a laugh then relents, just a little.

Nothing seems to go his way with you around, sure. But it's not like Rin particularly minds.

[coralie-adams]

AI-Generated Unique Character Flaws

Here are Twenty AI-generated unique Character Flaws that can be used to create well-rounded, relatable characters with room for growth and development throughout your story. These flaws can add depth and realism to any fictional character.

Chronic Overthinker: Constantly second-guessing themselves and unable to make decisions without extensive analysis, leading to missed opportunities and frustration.

Pathological Altruism: So eager to help others that they neglect their own needs, often making situations worse because they can't say no.

Memory Obsession: Fixated on a past event, they often bring it up in unrelated contexts, making it difficult for them to move on or form new relationships.

Superstitious Behavior: Their reliance on superstitions dictates their actions, causing them to make irrational decisions that can lead to conflict or failure.

Emotional Mask: Always puts on a happy face regardless of their true feelings, leading to bottled-up emotions and eventual breakdowns or misunderstandings.

Compulsive Truth-Teller: Unable to tell white lies, they often hurt others' feelings or create awkward situations by always telling the unvarnished truth.

Phobia-Induced Limitation: A severe, irrational fear (e.g., of water, heights, or open spaces) that restricts their activities and interactions, creating obstacles in their personal and professional life.

Indecisive Perfectionist: Obsessed with making everything perfect, they struggle to complete tasks or make choices, often leading to missed deadlines and opportunities.

Self-Sabotaging: Subconsciously undermines their own efforts due to a deep-seated belief that they don't deserve success or happiness.

Attention-Seeker: Desperate for validation and attention, they often engage in risky or inappropriate behaviors to be noticed, leading to strained relationships and trouble.

Unyielding Stubbornness: Refuses to adapt or consider other viewpoints, leading to conflicts and missed opportunities for growth or collaboration.

Social Chameleon: Changes their personality to fit in with different groups, leading to an identity crisis and shallow relationships because they are never truly themselves.

Eternal Optimist: So optimistic that they fail to see or prepare for potential problems, leading to repeated failures and disappointments.

Compulsive Hoarder: Unable to let go of possessions, their living space becomes cluttered and unmanageable, affecting their quality of life and relationships.

Hyper-Critical: Overly critical of themselves and others, leading to strained relationships and a constant feeling of dissatisfaction.

Isolationist: Prefers solitude to the extent that they avoid meaningful relationships and miss out on social opportunities, leading to loneliness and social awkwardness.

Impulsive Generosity: Gives away money or possessions recklessly, often leaving themselves in financial difficulty and unable to sustain their own needs.

Nostalgia Dependent: Lives in the past, constantly reminiscing and comparing current situations unfavorably to their memories, hindering their ability to enjoy the present.

Reluctant Leader: Possesses leadership qualities but is afraid of taking charge, leading to frustration from peers who see their potential but also their refusal to step up.

Conflict Avoider: Goes to great lengths to avoid conflict, often at their own expense, leading to unresolved issues and a lack of assertiveness.

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Why doesn't Marx want Kirby to forgive him, is it just the guilt thing?

Long story short, this is a combination of "the fear of getting hurt/rejected" & "shame and guilt," which results in self-sabotaging, but the main reason is...

HAMELIN REALLY MESSED UP MARX!

So, like Kirby with Cappytown... Marx was Hamelin's hero, but they betrayed him and thus turned to the dark side.

This all ties into his initial hatred for Kirby... he's very much angry at his former self for being so foolishly naive, and Kirby's good nature is too reminiscent of his former self.

That also makes it the main reason he could never truly hate Kirby... a younger self that he can't help but connect with. Leading to his "fake friend act" to accidentally grow to care for him and actually want him as a friend.

However, Marx knows he deceives Kirby the same way the people of Hamelin did to him... "pretending they cared for him." Using the very same methods, the townsfolk did to him... ("became what he hated")

This is why Marx doesn't have the heart to forgive himself... even though Kirby was always ready to forgive him and welcome him back with open arms. Because he knows he can never forgive the people of Hamelin... Why should Kirby? And, of course, he does!

The restoration of a friendship between Marx & Kirby happens~, But unlike the people of Hamelin, Kirby has this unconditional love for Marx and wants more than anything to have him back in his life.

I'd say these events happened after Planet Robboot... Marx finally makes his return and "saves Kirby?!" (I'm not gonna reveal from what because of spoilers)

With my interpretation of Marx, I wanted to take him into a sympathetic route (to make him stand out from the others). He still has the sass and mischievous charm, but I wanted to give him a proper reason why he is the way he is. It's a more heartfelt version of Marx that Kirby would want to be friends with and him in turn.

Marx represents "self-worth"; if people don't appreciate or treat you the way you deserve, then they don't deserve you. (Minus the piping all the Dark Matter back into the town as revenge...) KNOW YOUR WORTH AS A PERSON PEOPLE!

And he stands as one of the main reasons why Kirby ultimately chooses to become a star warrior. Moved out of the Popstar to travel and pursue his aspirations & dreams.

Please keep reading for spoilers & quick bonus comic~

So Arthur pretty much reveals Marx's backstory to the rest of the Kirby gang... and needless to say, they're speechless!

He still doesn't want to be forgiven, so he stays with Magolor (which I cover here with Magolor's lore), but yeah, of course, Marx opened up to Mags about Hamelin. And that's why Mags is there, while Kirby & Marx are back in his place telling his story to Kirby. (Kirby saw it because of "empathic touch" but didn't know the exact details of it..)

And Dragato, yeah, he was already on his redemption arc (Falspar's already went through his with Fluff, so he's there for moral support, plus it's the reason why Arthur partnered up together).... he already knew he messed up. But now, hearing the full story that he was, not only did he fall for the people of Hamelin's lies, but... MARX WAS THEIR HERO. (I know kinda of shoehorned the crew for the sake of missing the gang, I just missed them I had to...)

There's actually a small bit of tragedy... while the adults sold Marx out, the children who really loved him would've vouched for him... it'll tie back into his character later.

And I know it seems like I'm painting Dragato in such a bad light, but it's part of his character development. And for those of you who don't know... HIS MENTOR WAS DAME MORGAN (LE FAYE)! So yeah, high standards, little affection, never impressed~

Which is why I still need to establish her a bit more! More Morgan coming up soon

I'm trying to get to the old asks I wasn't able to answer before (since I was still developing the lore...) And I just need a little break from the tournament plus, I've been working on some Kirfluff stuff for Oct.: Kirfluff week!

Also, little funny side notes and gags' "Hero to Zero... Hercules" reference and Mag's little side comment. Based on the meme, "you ruined a perfectly good child..."

So, hope you guys enjoyed it!

[thoughtfulbearpanda]

Timeless weekly message meant to find you.

piles 1->2

Hi there! This is a timeless reading, so remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. Remember that you have free will and nothing is set in stone. Yes, this is intended for entertainment purposes but if any serious topics that come up in these readings that you find yourself resonating with, please seek aid or professional help if you are inclined to do so. Also, if anything in this reading is triggering for you don't feel the need to continue reading; please prioritize your mental and emotional health.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

PILE I

Okana Oracle: Famine, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Tower, Tarot: 3 of wands, 6 of cups, the Magician rx, and The Tower rx

With the 3ow, I do think you’ll be coming into some good news this week pile 1. There will be possible opportunity for expansion, for growth. The chance to travel for an opportunity. Something about a childhood dream coming true, or a childhood wish fulfillment. There is an element of inner child healing as well. So you may end up doing something that healing for your inner child whether that be dancing, singing, eating pancakes for dinner, or partaking in something that you used to enjoy as a child. You may re-learning, or learning how to have fun, or fall in love with life again; finding beauty in the small things. There could be moments that you find yourself reminiscing of the past, whether be family memories or reflecting on how far you’ve come in life. Sometimes we do have to remind ourselves of the progress that we have made; it’s easy to forget when striving towards our goals and feeling as though we haven’t achieved anything in life. Remember: you are here and you are making progress everyday, no matter how slow it may seem to you. 

Be careful as well, this week pile 1. Yes, things do seem to be looking up for you and opportunities are coming your way, but not everyone has your best interest at heart. With the magician rx, there could be a manipulator in your mist. Someone coming to you with a promise of an opportunity but for a price; this price could range from salacious favors “oh I can give you what you want, get you to where you want to be…but you have to do this for me first.”; it’s almost like a ‘please me, then when I’m satisfied I’ll please you”. This person could be charming and more experienced, just. Be careful who approaches you this week pile 1, and remember to use discernment and listen to your intuition. Your intuition will be your greatest weapon and may save your life.

I will say, with this tower rx, what ever this potential manipultor has planned will not follow through. Also, be mindulf of self-manipulation; these are the doubts that we feed ourselves when something is too good too be true, basically self-sabotage. Don’t stand in your own way, don’t block your own blessings because you feel as though the opportunites coming to you are too good to be true. Remember if you weren’t qualified, if you weren’t deserving, the opportunites would never have presented themselves.

Shadow Message: Famine - “do not pick up what is discarded” -> do not operate from a place of scarcity, with the amount of abundance coming your way this week do not sell yourself short. If at any point this week, or going forward, you find yourself feeling as though you are not good enough, or that you are not capable, or even worthy of good things…start asking yourself why? Why do you feel that way? Why do you believe you are not worthy of the blessings coming to you? Why are you selling yourself short? Why are you downplaying your talents and capabilities? This could also be a call to start journaling, doing some shadow work as well to confront those negative thought patterns. Remember: if you weren’t qualified, the opportunities would never have presented themselves.

Message from the Ancestors: Tower - "Revolution" -> "It is time to revolutionize the way you think, how you see yourself, and how you allow others to see you. It's time to come down from the tower of doubt and insecurity, of lack that you built around yourself. Whatever scares you, do it. Do not operate from a place of fear. God, did not give you the spirit of fear. Tear down that tower of doubt and conqueror what scares you. It's time to face your shadow; it's time to face your fears, Child."

Final Messages:

"What you help a child to love, can be more important than what you help him to learn."

"A fully grown up tree cannot be bent into a walking stick."

"The strength of a person cannot be determined by size."

"A snake that you can see does not bite."

PILE II *tw: sexual assault*

Okana Oracle: Covet, Grandma's Baby Lenormand: Mice, Cards: Queen of Wands, Empress rx, 7 of pentacles, 8 of swords

Some of you may be dealing with tense energy this week. What I mean by ‘tense’ is having to fend off some unwanted advances from others. With this empress rx, there could be unwanted sexual advances, this could be co-workers or a feminine or masculine energy in a position of power (or just someone in your life) being overtly sexual towards you, or overtly flirtatious. You may be in a position where you have to ‘grin and bear it’ depending on the job and your position, or the circumstance. With the 7op, this may have been going on for awhile for some of you; for others this could be a proposition stirred up for a potential promotion; whoever this person is will probably give you the promise of a promotion if you do certain sexual favors for them. with the 8os, this will or has been weighing heavily on some you, it’s this feeling of feeling trapped in your circumstances, feeling as though you can’t tell anyone for fear of repercussion. 

 A feminine person could be significant for you this week; this feminine is trustworthy, friendly and could offer a place of respite and solace for you this message resonates. Some of you may seek therapy regarding this situation, or confiding in a feminine energy that you can trust or is trustworthy *Please take what resonates, this is not for everyone and this information could be triggering for victims of sexual assault. To whomever this resonates with, please protect yourself, find someone you can trust to confide in. It’s easier said than done, and not everyone has the resources to protect themselves, but try to protect yourself the best you can.*

For others, you could be tapping or re-tapping into your Divine Feminine, or even your sexuality/sensuality. Maybe you’ve been feeling disconnected with your body or divine feminine. Maybe this week you’ll be trying to break out whatever ‘rut’ that you’ve been stuck in, whether that’s creatively, sensually, or even motherly for some of you. Maybe you’ll get into hobbies that connect you more to your feminine side: painting your nails, going to the spa, singing in the shower, hanging out with friends you have seen in a while; y’know just investing yourself, pouring into yourself.

Shadow message: Covet - "the one who has nothing wants it all" -> for those who resonated with the first message, you may feel as though you don’t have the right to speak up about what is going on. So let’s say this is your job, whoever this person is could have thrown you a bone and gave you that job as a handout, these are difficult times and jobs don’t come easy and maybe this person knows that. Maybe you feel as though you shouldn’t say anything out of fear of losing your job or not being able to find something better or in time. That saying ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you’ comes to mind, and maybe you feel that way. But ask yourself: is this environment benefiting me in the long run? Am I actively looking for a way out of this environment and into a better more sustaining one? *I am not here to tell you to quit your job, I am simply posing these questions so you can make the decision that is best for you*

Message from the Ancestors: Mice - "Fear" -> "Fear lies about the value of things. It is weaponized underestimation. An interruption. It makes us feel and act out of natural alignment, afraid to use the power available to us. Because that's the only real power Fear has: persuasion. It is ultimately up to us, whether we choose to act on what Fear proposes."

Final Messages:

"Only those who do nothing make a mistake."

"Fire surrounded by elders cannot burn you."

"Do not allow the belly to make you useless."

"Where the rain falls there is no hunger."

That's all have for you. Thank you for reading. Stay safe, stay blessed!

decks used: Asotele tarot, Grandma's Baby Black Gold Lenormand, Okana oracle

[icarustypicalfall]

Commander's last love

masterlist ★ fic masterlist ★ part 3

Phillip Graves x fem reader

Summary He wasn't well-loved, and many would pay a fortune to have his head.

Warnings New oc, self-sabotage, military inaccuracies, highly based on mw2 and 3

note i had this draft for now 4 days, couldn't spare time to post it. Ramadhan Karim to my folks ily 🤍

tag list 🤍: @unicorngirly1

★

"And I am the idiot with the [tainted] face in the corner taking up space"

Mission [A2626]

Location: [CLASSIFIED]

Time: 11:03:15 - 10/10/2022

Phillip hurriedly exited the room. He couldn't help but unleash a string of curses under his breath, venting his frustrations from the past few hours. His ire was focused on Luke his brother, life choices that led him into crashing his butt for more than two hours on an uncomfortable chair, general Shepard and his stupid narcissistic self, the odd moments you chose to mock his stratigies, you and that pathetic of a person he ignored the existence till today morning.

Ever since your encounter in the archive room, Phil had been intrigued and hoped to sit beside you during today's meeting. He knew he had an advantage because, technically, he was your commander. He could sit wherever he pleased, and with Farah's stern gaze fixed upon you, there was no room for disobedience.

As Phillip chanted over some clever lines to impress you. He didn't know what made him interested, or persuasive, he was just following the flicker of light that perked from the wall.

However, his joy was quickly extinguished when he spotted you with another man. Anger welled up within him as he silently judged the fella who seemed careless, lifting you up and spinning you around. Tall, tanned, and muscular, he was the embodiment of strength.

The man eventually set you down, and Phillip averted his gaze. He hadn't realized that you had someone in your life. It wasn't jealousy that consumed him, but rather a profound envy that defied explanation. A fire burned inside him, igniting a desire to burn everything down in that room. But he chose to remain silent.

Phillip entertained the thought of praying for peace, even though he rarely indulged in such practice due to time and effort. Instead, he found himself praying for the slow death of the poor young man who had been yapping for the past five minutes about god knows what while holding your hand.

As everyone gathered around the table, Colonel Farah gestured towards the man, who once again had his hands draped around you. Phillip couldn't help but wish he could just bomb the entire room and be done with it.

"This is Sky, our former subordinate who will be assisting us in Mission A2626," Colonel Farah announced.

Phillip couldn't suppress a laugh. Well, at least he could compete with this guy when it came to having a cool name. Seriously, Sky? How pathetic. Under normal circumstances, Phillip might have been able to tolerate it, but with you clinging to him like a darned jacket? Absolutely not.

He looked up at Sky, shaking his hand with unnecessary force, a display of dominance reminiscent of the old days. "Nice to meet ya, Commander Graves, CEO of Shadow Company," Phillip introduced himself.

Sky didn't seem fazed in the slightest. He smiled, and Phillip couldn't help but think the guy should have been a model, although he would never admit it. Sky replied, "Sky Diver, Sergeant and right-hand of my little Ash.”

You snickered, playfully pushing Sky's shoulder before sitting away from Phil (how dare you).

Phillip could swear he saw a faint blush on your covered cheeks. He wished his words could bring a genuine smile to your face. Instead, all he ever received from you were cold glares and disgusted looks whenever he attempted to tell you one of his uncle Jo's lame jokes from Thanksgiving family gatherings.

In some strange way, it felt like he was back in high school, competing against the jock for the attention of the pretty girl. It was a peculiar and almost animalistic sensation, but to Phillip, it felt like a matter of life and death. He had only known you for three days, whereas it seemed like Ash had known you since you were in your mom's womb.

Phillip could have drowned his sorrows in any bar, downing the entire stock of rum and calling it a night. Or perhaps he could use that bazooka passed down from his great-great-great grandfather to blow up Ash's charming smile and his impressively large, tanned biceps.

He could certainly use a glass of rum.

But Phillip wasn't one to give up easily. No, he had never learnt a healthy way to handle pain or rejection. Instead, he pushed forward and tried even harder, even if it hurt him in the process. He needed to feel alive again, to experience something beyond the constant turmoil that surrounded him. He didn't know when the Reaper would come knocking on his door for another visit that would undoubtedly take his breath away (literally).

In the life of Commander Phillip Graves, the line between life and death was as thin as a coin. Fate had often saved him from falling into the abyss, but he knew that one day he would stumble and never find his way back. He had his own methods of finding enjoyment, whether it was going out, having a drink, or simply doing nothing at all.

He had avoided relationships like the plague. Firstly, he had never witnessed a healthy and successful relationship, growing up in a household that constantly portrayed them as dysfunctional (thanks to his excuse of a father). Secondly, he had never been in a relationship that lasted longer than a couple of months. He isn't exactly a bad person, he tries his best. Sometimes, it's not enough. He isn't a dog, he doesn't know why he bites.

But, as he looked at you, he found himself contemplating the idea of being with someone for the first time in years. Bless his old man heart that had beaten solely for the sake of survival and his ears that yearned to hear a genuine compliment that wasn't aimed at getting into his bed or emptying his pockets.

He knew you would never entertain the idea of being with him. You were young, probably in your early twenties, judging by the lack of information in your file. You were beautiful, intelligent, strong, respected, and above all, loved by everyone. Phillip, on the other hand, was an old dog, a soul scarred by war and battles. He may possess a certain handsomeness, but he despised the scars and every reminder of the pain etched onto his body. He wasn't well-loved, and many would pay a fortune to have his head.

You were out of his reach; he could never have you. Phillip could only watch from a distance, giving commands and irritating you. Perhaps, on the rare occasion, you might warm up to him and laugh at one of his jokes, but it would be as rare as a blue moon. However, one thing he was certain of: you would never be his.

After the meeting, where sitting for such extended period had left him with a square butt (a common side effect of being in the army or any job that involves prolonged sitting), he followed you and Sky discreetly. You were headed to the Mass hall?

Excellent.

He would be there, lurking behind your table, eavesdropping.

Wait, what? What do you mean he was spying?

How dare you make such an accusation! He was simply ensuring he had all eyes and ears focused on that parachute (seriously, Sky Diver? He thought Soap was outrageous). Secretly, he hoped Sky would turn out to be a hopeless hero who would volunteer to dive without a parachute when there were enough to go around (a dyslexic problem, no offense intended).

You and Sky spent the day inseparable, while Phillip trailed behind feeling disheartened. You seemed happy, and he didn't want to ruin that. He returned to his room, where he plopped down on his bed for a solid two-hour crash, hearing General Shepard vent about his weak joints and veteran issues. Phillip wished for death once again. He cursed the old fart's ancestors and every choice he had made in life. All he wanted was to be rich. Why did he have to endure all of this?

Later, Phillip found solace in his bed, relishing the peace after a day of being the sidekick in everything. He believed his soldiers weren't grown men; they were more like children in primary school fighting over toys and blabbering family secrets, all of which embarrassed him.

"I once saw the commander sleeping with a blanket he had since he was a baby," Martin claimed, earning a smack and an embarrassed glare from Phillip.

Phillip sighed, pulling out the blanket in question and wrapping himself in it like a cocoon. He sat down and inspected your file for the seventh time today (heaven forbid a man has a hobby). As he held the picture, it slipped from his grasp, and he noticed that Sky was in it too. Seriously, this man was everywhere. He might as well find him in the pattern of his boxers or in the posters of his old favorite bands.

Now, Phillip recognized most of the people in the picture: Colonel Farah, Alex, two soldiers making silly faces. Sky, with his arm draped over another guy, winking, and a female soldier he had only just noticed in the background, smiling. Who were these people? Who was the photographer? And why was this picture in the archive room?

Phillip sighed, feeling more lost than ever. He could hear your laughter through the thin wall, probably another funny story from Sky, who apparently resided in the next room.

Great.

Phillip let out another sigh, lazily lying on the floor, staring at the dark ceiling until he fell into a deep slumber.

His soft snores drowned out the faint cries that emanated from the neighboring room, disrupting the peace of the night.

[boinin]

I didn't want to give too much weight to Hiiragi's tarot reading schtick. Yet, it's an author insert moment, and Kaneshiro loves foreshadowing. I have a worrying feeling that these fortunes may hold true for Chigiri, Barou and Nagi.

Full disclosure: I know very little about tarot, but did some high level reading through Wikipedia and other sources.

Chigiri gets the 15th card of the Major Arcana, the Devil. In the official translation, Hiiragi notes this to represent seduction, betrayal and ruin. Oof.

The obvious connection is to Chigiri's leg—the fortune could be tied to how he was seduced by football, became addicted to it, but will subsequently be betrayed by his leg... leading to ruin.

The Devil tarot card doesn't normally show a bomb, so this is for dramatic effect. Thematically, it implies that Chigiri should find purpose (or know where to seek it) beyond football, ahead of the day his luck runs out. 🥺 Not the outcome I want for our princess, but a second ACL injury has long been speculated by fans. Chigiri himself is aware that it's a risk when playing at this level.

Barou chooses number 12, the Hanged Man. Hiiragi cherry-picks his interpretation; in addition, this card is associated with motifs of self-sacrifice, learning, and change in perspective. It can also be interpreted as a voluntary state, rather than something that befalls a person.

It's a good fit for Barou, who doesn't double down on his ego so much as grow to show why he's deserving of his nickname in the first place. Barou is a king on the pitch, and expects a level of servitude from his teammates, but not without constantly improving his own skills and talent. He's no lazy despot, though despot he may be.

The Hanged Man fortunes supports his emotional outburst during the Ubers match. Barou remarks that he needs the challenge of despair to grow. As such, the trials he puts on himself are deliberate, much like the tarot reading suggests.

Nagi gets #13, Death (because of course he does). This fortune seems to be the most thoughtful of the bunch, unsurprisingly. Hiiragi's interpretation, while intended to provoke Nagi above all, holds up well against what little I've read on tarot.

The Wikipedia page for the Death arcana had some additional nuggets of insight, or rather further ammunition for those of us manifesting a second NagiReo divorce:

Reo is frequently referred to as princely and compared to royalty in the series, with his superfluous wealth and the way he confidently takes on leadership roles among teams. His signature colour, purple, has monarchial associations due to how rare and expensive purple pigments are in nature (prior to the invention of synthetic dyes).

Of course Reo, this royal youth, opposes Nagi's desire to change... seemingly at every hurdle.

It's not deliberate sabotage though, more that they're hamstrung by their co-dependency. Unlike almost every other relationship in Blue Lock, which arose from rivalry or a shared desire to improve, Nagi and Reo's friendship is rooted in the naive promises they made before entering the programme. @thyandrawrites had a great post exploring this recently, which I recommend if you want to delve deeper into the reasons for their underperformance in the Neo Egoist league.

My take is, in essence, if these two could agree to remain friends while moving away from being inseperable on the pitch, they'd both flourish.

Back to tarot: Wikipedia also has a tidbit on reversed cards, which I understand aren't a hardwired aspect of reading tarot (it refers to physical cards that are revealed upside down after being shuffled and dealt). The interpretation Wikipedia gives of an inverted Death card is reminiscent of Nagi's status after he plays against Isagi and Bastard München.

In short: Nagireo bad for one another, and Nagi will undergo quite the metamorphosis in his journey through Blue Lock, if this fortune holds.

---

Analysis aside, I wouldn't put too much faith into what these fortunes mean for the characters. Tarot itself isn't immutable, and for every motif listed above, the characters also have other tropes influencing the paths they take. For example, Chigiri shares the whole hero/princess trope with Kunigami, which has more plot significance than his leg injury at present. Nagi embodies the role of a natural prodigy who has neither the knowledge or experience to deploy his talents consistently. Barou embodies an villain or anti-hero archetype, when juxtaposed with Isagi. Each character has more to the eye than a simple playing card can reveal which is why I'm here yapping at length about them during my lunch break

[batfammeetsspidergang]

Spider-Gang Headcanons

I was bored, so I decided to create headcanon character sheets for the Spider-Folks! Basically, this is how I personally envision the characters when doing incorrect quotes. Like I've said before, these origins are mish-mashes of the comics, TV shows, movies, games, and so on, plus some minor, original ideas. (And yes, I was lazy so I copy-pasted much of the info and stats from the Marvel Wiki. Shout-out to the editors and their amazing work!)

If your favorite Spider-People aren't here, that DOES NOT MEAN I don't like them! Lmao I adore Pavitr, Cindy, Jess, etc. These are just my personal favorites. Also, I'm still tryna figure out Ham's cartoon powers, and movie-verse Miguel can go sit on a barbed wire brush XD

P.S. No ai art was used. These are all borrowed from official Marvel media.

🕷️ 🕷️ 🕷️

Spider-Man

Peter Benjamin Parker

New York City, New York; present-day

16-18 years old

5′10″ (1.78 m)

160 lbs (72.57 kg)

Eyes: brown

Hair: brown

Gender: Cis male

Orientation: Bisexual

Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider and gained a suite of powers reminiscent of a spider, including agility, wall-crawling, and the ability to sense danger. When Peter learned that his beloved Uncle Ben had been murdered by a thief that Peter himself had selfishly allowed to escape, he realized that with his new powers also came a responsibility to use them for good. Since that day, Spider-Man has fought criminals while enduring a constant barrage of negative press, a stream of personal losses, and the occasional crisis of confidence. Somehow he manages to maintain a positive attitude and rarely lacks for a humorous quip when battling bad guys.

PERSONALITY:

-Peter is a geeky, shy, socially awkward, high-spirited, caring, and friendly teenage boy who is loyal to his family and friends. While his heroics as Spider-Man have given him a reputation for being a flake, Peter will always be there for anyone that needs help. 

-Since the death of his beloved Uncle Ben, Peter's vow of responsibility has led him on a path of heroism and humanitarianism. He regularly sacrifices (or sabotages) his personal well-being for the greater good. It has also meant that Peter often takes on more burdens than he can bear and blames himself unnecessarily when the city is hurt.

-He possesses an innate scientific curiosity and loves to figure out how things work. He has been known to immerse himself in personal projects for hours on end, forgetting to eat and sleep as a result.

-Though it can be difficult for him to open up with new people, he becomes enthusiastic and talkative when asked about his favorite subjects (i.e. science, photography, TTRPGs, the New York Mets).

-Peter has a tendency to use humor and sarcasm as a defense mechanism, a trait that is amplified when he fights criminals as Spider-Man. He is proud of his humor, deploying it to break tensions and lift the mood, something that has at times irritated his friends and allies.

-Peter also has a bit of a vengeful side—he once secretly used his powers to humiliate his bullies and was single-minded in his pursuit of revenge for his uncle’s death. If Peter's trust is betrayed, it can be difficult to get back in his good graces.

-His humility often teeters on the edge of self-loathing, to the point of considering himself lamer than his counterparts. These feelings also extend to his romantic relationships—Peter is often blind to his crush’s reciprocated feelings simply because he doesn’t believe they could ever be reciprocated. According to Peter, he always falls for people who are "way out of his league."

-Behind his naturally upbeat demeanor, Peter possesses a tragic and depressed side. This is brought on by the immense guilt he feels about the deaths of people he held close: Ben Parker and Gwen Stacy, his first girlfriend.

POWERS & ABILITIES:

Spider Physiology: Peter Parker possesses the proportionate powers of a spider, granted to him by the bite of an irradiated spider.

Superhuman Strength: Peter can lift up to 10 tons. His physical strength also extends into his legs, enabling him to jump to a height of several stories in a single bound.

Superhuman Speed: Peter possesses the proportionate speed of a spider; therefore, he can run and move at speeds that are beyond the physical limits of the finest human athlete.

Superhuman Stamina: Spider-Man's advanced musculature produces fewer fatigue toxins during physical activity than an ordinary human. This allows him to exert himself physically for much longer periods of time before fatigue begins to impair him.

Superhuman Durability: Peter’s body is physically tougher and more resistant to some types of injury than the body of a normal human. He has shown little to no discomfort when sustaining great impact forces.

Superhuman Agility: Spider-Man's superhuman agility, balance, and bodily coordination are all enhanced to levels that are far beyond the natural physical limits of the finest human athlete. Spider-Man is extraordinarily limber, and his tendons and connective tissues are twice as elastic as the average human being's. He has the combined agility and acrobatic prowess of the most accomplished circus aerialists and acrobats. He can also perform any complicated sequence of gymnastic stunts, such as flips, rolls, and springs.

Superhuman Equilibrium: Peter possesses the ability to achieve a state of perfect equilibrium in any position imaginable. He seems able to adjust his position by instinct, which enables him to balance himself on virtually any object, no matter how small or narrow.

Superhuman Reflexes: Spider-Man's reflexes are similarly enhanced and are currently about 20 times greater than those of an ordinary human. In combination with his spider-sense, the speed of his reflexes allows him to dodge almost any attack.

Wallcrawling: Peter can cling to any surface using just his fingertips and feet.

Spider-Sense: Spider-Man possesses a precognitive danger sense that warns him of potential or immediate danger through the manifestation of a tingling sensation in the back of his skull, and links with his superhuman kinesthetics, enabling him to evade most attacks unless he cognitively overrides his automatic reflexes.

Regeneration: Spider-Man is able to rapidly heal and regenerate from harm faster and more extensively than normal humans are capable of.

Web-Shooters: Spider-Man's trademark equipment. With his brilliance in physical science, Peter created these devices to fire thin strands of a special web fluid at high pressure and speeds. These enable him to web-swing between buildings and entrap enemies.

Web fluid: Created by Peter Parker. A shear-thinning liquid (virtually solid until a shearing force is applied to it, rendering it fluid) whose exact formula is unknown but is related to nylon. On contact with air, the long-chain polymer knits and forms an extremely tough, flexible fiber with extraordinary adhesive properties.

Specialized Web Cartridges

-Acid Webbing: Webbing laced with hydrochloric acid. -Taser Webbing  -Impact Webbing: Web-pellets that, upon impact, release tendrils that ensnare the target.

Spider-Tracers: Small, electronic tracers that allow Spider-Man to track objects or individuals. Typically, he plants or throws one on a departing enemy, but he can also use a launching device in his web-shooters for better range and accuracy. Spider-Man can follow the signal within a 100-yard radius by using his spider-sense.

Genius-Level Intellect: Peter Parker possesses a natural talent for science, standing out as a top student in his high school. His favorite subjects are biology, physics, and chemistry. A prodigy biochemist, Peter could understand his father's, Dr. Richard Parker’s, research notes at age 15.

Expert Inventor/Engineer: As a teenager, he developed his signature web formula, Web-Shooters, and the Spider-Tracers.

Budding Photographer: Peter is a talented photographer and has worked part-time for the Daily Bugle.

Skilled Acrobat: Due to his superhuman physical abilities, Peter easily surpasses normal acrobats and is able to perform somersaults, flips, spins, cartwheels, etc.

Hand-to-Hand Combatant: Spider-Man's fighting style incorporates and takes full advantage of his proper use of physical forces, momentum, and leverage, with the hero staying low and mobile while utilizing the momentum of frequent spins to come crashing down on his opponents. Peter has stated that he is self-taught, having learned many of his fighting techniques from movies and lucha libre.

🕷️ 🕷️ 🕷️

Spider-Man (Miles Morales)

Miles Gonzalo Morales

New York City, New York; present-day

16-18 years old

5′8″ (1.73 m)

160 lbs (72.57 kg)

Eyes: brown

Hair: black

Gender: Cis male

Orientation: Heterosexual

Miles Morales, a fellow student of Peter Parker, was bitten by a genetically altered spider that his uncle had stolen from Osborn Industries. The next day at school, he found that he had grown taller overnight and gained incredible, arachnid-like powers. Donning a similar costume, Miles became a budding superhero with the original Spider-Man as his mentor. Miles was the first person Spider-Man revealed his identity to, and they have become the closest of friends. Miles considers Peter a great hero, but can he live up to the legacy set before him?

PERSONALITY:

-Miles is a passionate, bright, confident, selfless, and extremely eager young man. 

-Miles' dedication to helping others stems from his deep respect for his father, Officer Jefferson Morales, and his admiration of Peter Parker as Spider-Man. He draws his passion for science from his mother, Rio, who is highly regarded for her boundless dedication to being a nurse. Moreover, being a long-time fan of Spider-Man, Miles aspires to uphold his mentor and friend’s legacy while also forging his own path.

-Like average Spider-Men, he has an irreverent attitude towards villains, although when enemies indicate psychological instability, Miles addresses them respectfully to prevent further danger.

-He has a strong love for science, having started inventing at an early age, as well as a passion for music, mixing hip-hop beats with his uncle during his early years.

-He is much more sociable than Peter Parker, and often initiates conversations with strangers in his neighborhood.

-Miles instantly fell for Gwen Stacy upon their first meeting. They’ve since become the best of friends, though a part of Miles still pines for her romantically. 

-His relationship with his Uncle Aaron is complex; while Miles acknowledges Aaron's inherent goodness, he also grapples with his uncle's shadowy past as the Prowler and their differing views on heroism.

-Miles' eagerness to be a hero is both a strength and weakness; it propels his desire to grow and assist others, but it also makes him prone to danger and reluctant to accept help. Additionally, he has been known to act impulsively on occasion. Miles also dislikes being a victim or receiving pity. 

-He initially displayed panic and insecurity due to struggling to handle even basic spider powers, and he felt unworthy of the Spider-Man mantle. When it is up to him to save the city on his own, Miles occasionally has doubts about his capabilities, often comparing himself to Peter. 

-Miles' intellect and love for others can cloud his judgment. At times, he can be too arrogant to listen to those who might know better

POWERS & ABILITIES:

Spider Physiology: Miles Morales gained the proportionate abilities of a spider after being bitten by a genetically-modified spider.

Superhuman Strength: Miles can lift roughly 10 tons.

Superhuman Speed

Superhuman Stamina

Superhuman Durability

Superhuman Agility: Miles' agility, balance, flexibility, and bodily coordination are all enhanced to levels that are far beyond the natural physical limits of an Olympic-level gymnast.

Superhuman Equilibrium

Superhuman Reflexes

Wallcrawling

Spider-Sense: When danger is present, Miles feels a buzzing sensation in his head as a sort of early warning system, allowing him to react accordingly. His spider-sense offers him near-complete awareness of his surroundings and, in conjunction with his reflexes, allows him to instinctively dodge or counter nearly all attacks. 

Bio-Electrokinesis: Miles is able to generate and manipulate a form of bio-electricity that his body produces and can utilize the energy for multiple purposes. Miles has learned to discharge the energy from his hands in controlled bursts of what he calls "Venom Blasts".

-Mega Venom Blast: Arguably Miles' deadliest ability. Miles is able to emit a larger scale burst of bio-electricity from his entire body. It is powerful enough to repel a large group of opponents and destroy sturdy restraints. This ability leaves Miles exhausted after using it, and can be triggered with focus or by extreme stress. -Venom Beam: Miles has shown that he can channel his bio-electricity outward as a direct burst of electrostatic energy to knock away enemies in a stunning/concussive manner. -Venom Punch: Miles can enhance the power of his punches by infusing his fists with bio-electricity. -Lateral Repulsion: By projecting a controlled Venom Blast, Miles is able to launch himself in the air with greater force than when jumping or web-swinging.

Camouflage: Miles, including his clothing, can blend into his surroundings, allowing him to sneak up on his enemies or, in some cases, flee from them. The resulting effect closely resembles that of invisibility.

Regeneration

Web-Shooters

Bilingualism: Miles speaks English and Spanish.

Gifted Intellect: A fast learner from a young age, Miles is a highly gifted individual with an aptitude for science. He attends the Robotics Club at school and has experience in programming applications. Upon discovering his bio-electric powers, he demonstrated an impressive understanding of biophysics, throwing out possible explanations for this new power, such as electrolytes. At the start of his superhero career, he was able to mimic the original Spider-Man's fighting style by watching online videos to improve his own abilities.

Photographic memory

Skilled Acrobat

Hand-to-Hand Combatant: Despite his lack of formal training prior to his spider-bite, Miles' enhanced agility, reflexes, and coordination made him an extraordinary melee fighter. He has developed his own unique combat style which incorporates a rudimentary form of boxing, Capoiera, and breakdancing.

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Spider-Woman

Gwendolyn "Gwen" Maxine Stacy

Alternate New York City, New York; present-day

16-18 years old

5′5″ (1.65 m)

125 lbs (56.7 kg)

Eyes: blue

Hair: blond

Gender: Trans female

Orientation: Heterosexual

Leaping from an alternate reality in which she was bitten by a radioactive spider instead of Peter Parker, Gwen Stacy learned the painful lesson that with great power must come great responsibility. At first, Gwen used her new powers for selfish reasons, reveling in the attention it brought her. Meanwhile, her friend, the bullied Peter Parker, turned himself into a lizard monster because he was desperate to be special like her. Gwen inadvertently killed Peter during the ensuing fight, and the police blamed her for his death. Seeking redemption, she now fights crime as the amazing Spider-Woman.

PERSONALITY:

-Gwen Stacy is a spunky, sarcastic, awkward, and emotionally vulnerable teenage girl. She has a history of rejecting friendship since she can't bear to go through the pain of losing another loved one. After getting to know Miles Morales and Hobie Brown, however, she tentatively decided to give companionship a chance.

-Gwen initially put on a tough, antisocial front when she met the other Spider-People, but she has come to view the Spider-Gang as family and is fiercely protective of them.

-It can be difficult for her to look at the other Peters when they are unmasked, hence why it was initially easier for her to interact with Miles and Hobie. 

-Currently, Gwen's interest in Miles is platonic, bordering on sibling affection.

-Gwen has a zero-tolerance policy for bullying, especially where her friends are concerned. On impulse, she will intervene on their behalf. With this in mind, Gwen and Peter (Spider-Man) have sworn to always watch each other's backs.

-There used to be unresolved tension between Gwen and her police officer father, George Stacy, regarding the morality of Spider-Woman’s vigilantism. Upon realizing that the vigilante he had been pursuing for years was his very own daughter, George reached out to Gwen about her problems and insecurities. Father and daughter have reconciled, and George Stacy has become Spider-Woman’s staunchest supporter.

-She is absolutely fearless in battle, but not to the point of recklessness.

-Gwen’s relationship with her bandmates has become somewhat strained since her superhero lifestyle often interferes with their gigs. That said, Gwen’s band members have made attempts at getting her to open up about her feelings and trauma.

-Gwen tends to bottle up her emotions and release them when she's playing drums, leading to her being particularly angry and distant. When dealing with people she is unsure of, she puts up fronts and walls to appear more confident and put together than she actually is.

-She hates when Noir calls her "doll."

-Her favorite band is The Smashing Pumpkins.

-Outside of music, her hobbies include skateboarding, gymnastics, and ballet.

POWERS & ABILITIES:

Spider Physiology: Gwen gained the proportionate abilities of a spider after being bitten by a radioactive spider—genetically engineered based upon the genetic template of alien spider parasites.

Superhuman Strength: Gwen can lift roughly 10 tons.

Superhuman Speed

Superhuman Stamina

Superhuman Durability

Superhuman Agility

Superhuman Equilibrium

Superhuman Reflexes

Spider-Sense

Wallcrawling

Regeneration

Web-Shooters: Twin devices, which she wears on her wrists, that trap moisture from the air to create a "web-fluid" that allows her to eject web ropes, nets, and globs. The Web-Shooters also enable her to web-swing between buildings. Given to Gwen by her universe’s Janet Van Dyne. 

Amateur Detective: Gwen has a proclivity for analytical thinking and detective work. She is also the daughter of a police captain, thus she knows some police protocols and methods.

Skilled Fighter: Gwen is a skilled freestyle fighter. That said, she is untrained and learned most of her moves from Kung Fu movies.

Trained ballerina: Gwen trained in ballet since she was young. Her ballet training has allowed her to be incredibly precise when moving, often walking on the tips of her toes. Evidently, her ballet experience is incorporated into her fighting style.

Trained gymnast: Gwen was a member of the gymnastics team at her school; even before her radioactive spider bite, Gwen was able to hold her own body weight and possessed an athletic build similar to that of an acrobat. She incorporated her gymnastics training into her fighting style.

Trained musician: Gwen plays the drums with her band, The Mary Janes.

🕷️ 🕷️ 🕷️

Spider-Man Noir

Peter Benjamin Parker

Alternate New York City, New York; 1933 AD

Approximately 19 years old

6′1″ (1.85 m)

150 lbs (68.04 kg)

Eyes: brown

Hair: brown

Gender: Cis male

Orientation: Bisexual or Demisexual (still figuring it out)

In another New York, in the year 1933, Norman Osborn murdered Ben Parker for encouraging a strike on the local sweatshops. Seeking justice for his uncle, Peter Parker became an investigative journalist in an attempt to expose the corruption in New York. One evening, Peter was investigating a warehouse where Osborn's henchmen were housing stolen artifacts. An ancient spider statue broke open and released a swarm of spiders, one of which bit Peter. He passed out and dreamed of a spider god who told him it would bestow the curse of power on him. When Peter came to, he discovered that he had been gifted with arachnid-like superpowers. Thus, Peter became the Spider-Man: a dark avenger fighting for the rights of the downtrodden and waging a one-man war on crime.

PERSONALITY:

-Noir Peter Parker is an unwavering, righteous, sympathetic, brooding, solitary young man of few words.

-Peter grew up witnessing injustice in the harsh environment of the Great Depression. This, combined with his Uncle Ben’s horror stories about the First World War, made Peter distrustful of would-be leaders and political figures. He’s leery of police officers; in his world and time period, especially, police corruption is rampant.

-Unlike most Spider-Men, Noir Peter was never taught the motto "With great power, there must also come great responsibility." Instead, his Uncle Ben told him, "If those in power can’t be trusted, it’s the responsibility of the people to remove them."

-Peter’s jaded demeanor and bleak realism belie his indomitable will and inherent idealism. He will never stop fighting for truth and progress, no matter the personal cost.

-Peter is a devout socialist and liberal activist, often participating in protests for workers’ rights, racial equality, and standing against the rising tide of Nazism.

-Peter is an empiricist—he believes his eyes, no matter how implausible something may be. Ever since his encounter with the Spider-God, he has gradually come to accept that some things are never going to have an explanation.

-Unlike the other Spider-People, Peter is willing to kill his enemies if absolutely necessary.

-Peter struggles with trauma and depression, perhaps more than his counterparts. To cope and better do his job, he closes off his emotions and ignores his bodily needs.

-Peter smokes cigarettes, even though he has been warned that they cause cancer. The nicotine helps calm his nerves, and he doubts that he’s capable of contracting cancer due to his powers.

-Peter puts on a convincing, deeper voice to make himself seem older. The rest of the Spider-Gang was dumbstruck when they learned he wasn’t much older than them.

POWERS & ABILITIES:

Superhuman Abilities: Peter possesses enhanced physical abilities granted to him by the Spider-God.

Superhuman Strength: Slightly inferior to that of his mainstream counterpart.

Superhuman Speed

Superhuman Stamina

Superhuman Durability: Although he is incredibly durable, his body does have its limits—unlike his modern counterparts, he cannot sustain multiple injuries and continue to function.

Superhuman Agility

Superhuman Equilibrium

Spider-Sense

Wall-Crawling: He can stick to walls using just his fingertips and feet; however, Peter prefers a type of parkour over clinging to the walls themselves.

Organic Webbing: Spider-Man is able to shoot organic black webbing out of his wrists. However, he cannot generate webbing in a constant stream (like his more modern counterparts) and is therefore unable to travel via swinging on webs.

Night Vision

Regeneration: Slightly superior to that of his mainstream counterpart.

Pain Resistance: Ever since he was bitten, Peter no longer feels physical pain as potently as an average human.

Gifted Intellect: Peter is of above-average intelligence and possesses a natural talent for science.

Experienced Reporter: Peter is a gifted investigative reporter and very skilled photographer.

Investigator: Honing his talents as an investigative reporter, Peter has become experienced in detective work and research.

Hand-to-Hand Combatant: He is formidable in hand-to-hand combat, having received boxing training from the Daredevil of his universe.

Skilled Marksman: Peter is adept in the use of and has impeccable aim with firearms; more often than not, he is able to hit his targets accurately.

Weapons: Peter has been known to carry revolvers and incendiary grenades.

Glasses: Unlike other Spider-People, after receiving his powers, Peter still requires corrective lenses to see properly. 

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Spider-Punk

Hobart "Hobie" Brown

Alternate London, United Kingdom; c. 1977-early 80s

Approximately 19 years old

5′11″ (1.8 m)

150 lbs (68.04 kg)

Eyes: brown

Hair: black

Gender: Cis male

Orientation: Pansexual

In an alternate London, foul-mouthed teenager Hobart Brown was living as a squatter in a United Kingdom ruled by the fascist regime of Prime Minister "Ozzy" Osborn. He was bitten by a spider irradiated by illegal waste dumping, which gave him spider superpowers. With his newfound powers, Hobie became a punk-rock-inspired Spider-Man and led the oppressed people of London in a revolt against Osborn and his storm troopers. Spider-Punk is defined by his rebellious attitude towards absolutely everything, and will take any opportunity to turn on an establishment, regardless of the consequences.

PERSONALITY:

-Hobie is a zealous, headstrong, brazen, uncompromising, and altruistic young man.

-Although he pretends to be an apathetic badass, Hobie clearly has a deep connection to his team and a surprising amount of respect for Spider-Man Noir.

-He is surprisingly good with children.

-Hobie is an extremely devout anarchist who chafes at all forms of authority. Whenever he is given orders, Hobie makes it clear that he’s only going along with them because he wants to. Put simply, Hobie fights evil on his own terms.

-Hobie lives by two rules: No Gods. No Masters. He hates the rich, authorities, and politicians.

-Hobie takes the Spider-Man staple of flippancy to a whole new level—oftentimes, he doesn’t even attempt to be clever with his quips, instead throwing out the harshest insults he can come up with. 

-As a musician and activist, he integrates anti-authority messages into his performances. He frequently encourages (and joins) mosh pits among the audience. Such acts are deemed illegal in his home universe… not that he cares. 

-Hobie is a terrible singer, but he argues that’s what punk rock is all about.

-With the plethora of questionable decisions he’s made just to survive, Hobie does not consider himself a role model, let alone a hero. Despite this, he still has high praise for himself and tries to project an aura of "cool."

-Hobie's boots are ladder laced. In punk culture, ladder lacing with colored laces is a way to discreetly express your beliefs. Hobie's laces are blue, which means the wearer has killed a police officer. Though Hobie remains unwilling to divulge many aspects of his life, he has mentioned that he was once betrayed by a police officer…

-Hobie enjoys playing with people’s gender expectations and dresses as androgynously as possible. He believes that it is impossible to separate punk history from queer history.

POWERS & ABILITIES:

Spider Physiology: After being bitten by a spider irradiated by illegal waste dumping, Hobart obtained the proportionate powers of a spider.

Superhuman Strength: Hobie can lift at least one ton.

Superhuman Speed

Superhuman Stamina

Superhuman Durability

Superhuman Agility

Superhuman Equilibrium

Superhuman Reflexes

Spider-Sense

Wallcrawling

Regeneration

Web-Shooters

Modified guitar: An instrument that can emit a large shockwave attack similar to Miles Morales’ "venom power". In addition, the guitar can play frequencies strong enough to cause electronic equipment to malfunction.

Cricket bat: A simple yet effective wooden bat inscribed with "Beat on the Brat," a Ramones lyric.

Engineer: Hobart is a tech genius, able to create his Web-Shooters and a functional dimension-hopping watch after studying the properties of Peni Parker’s teleportation device. He was also able to engineer his guitar into a weapon.

Skilled Acrobat: Spider-Punk is able to perform acrobatic and gymnastic moves, such as high jumps, somersaults, flips, etc. at a level far beyond the ability of normal humans.

Hand-to-Hand Combatant: Hobie has years of street fighting experience. He utilizes techniques that enable him to make full use of his speed, agility, and strength. However, he lacks any formal training.

Musician: Hobie is a talented musician and plays both guitar and drums.

🕷️ 🕷️ 🕷️

SP//dr

Peni Parker

Futuristic New York City, New York; 3145 AD

9-13 years old

4′11″ (1.5 m), 9′ (2.74 m) (in armor)

105 lbs (47.63 kg), 900 lbs (408.23 kg) (in armor)

Eyes: brown

Hair: black

Gender: Cis female

Orientation: Asexual

In an alternate Japan, in the year 3145, Peni Parker was born the only daughter of Dr. Richard Parker. When she was 9 years old, her father passed away piloting the SP//dr suit. She would be adopted by her Aunt May and Uncle Ben in New York, and they informed her that she was the last person able to bond with the radioactive spider that controlled Richard’s bionic armor. Peni accepted this responsibility, allowed the radioactive spider to bite her, and repaired the mech suit. Now known as SP//dr, Peni protects her futuristic neighborhood with her new best spider-friend and a powerful robotic suit!

PERSONALITY:

-Peni is a peppy, energetic, optimistic, intelligent, tough, and somewhat smug girl. 

-Peni’s bubbly nature is infectious, and she loves making new friends. She quite literally views the Spider-Gang as her family, even addressing them as onii-chan (big brother) and onee-chan (big sister) respectively. Likewise, she cherishes her bond with the SP//dr spider more than anything—in many ways, it’s her last connection to her father.

-A generally happy-go-lucky person, it is rare to see her sad or discouraged. That said, if grief or anxiety do strike, her productivity takes a sharp decline. She is a very emotional person, and her friends’ struggles affect her profoundly.

-Peni is a responsible and dedicated individual; she has devoted countless hours to her studies and working on her father's suit. That said, she can be a tad arrogant where her work is concerned, and bristles at outside input or assistance. It can be difficult to get Peni to accept technological help or admit when she’s made a mistake.

-Peni is proud of her intellect to an almost vain degree. She unconsciously comes off as condescending when explaining her technology to others, especially Spider-Man Noir (even though he can easily pick up how modern tech works).

-In battle, she is ruthless, aggressive, and devastatingly analytical.

-She has a habit of striking magical girl or idol singer poses.

-Peni is a vegetarian but isn’t preachy about it.

-Peni has an ultra-secret candy stash hidden… somewhere.

-Her hobbies include J-pop and manga (she’s recently gotten into Boys’ and Girls’ Love).

POWERS & ABILITIES:

Genius-Level Intellect: Peni Parker is extremely intelligent, mostly regarding her exceptional scientific, engineering, and hacking skills. 

Scientist: A wunderkind prodigy, she is remarkably skilled and knowledgeable in a wide range of scientific fields.

Engineer: Peni takes great pride in her engineering intelligence, which has enabled her to create upgrades for her SP//dr armor and even invent an inter-dimensional teleportation device.

Expert Hacker

SP//dr Suit Mk III: A psychically-powered mech suit created by Peni’s father. The SP//dr suit is genetically linked to her, so only Peni may use it. The suit uses magnetically manipulated appendages for versatility, wall-crawling, and enhanced strength, and it can shoot lasers from its fingers and weld various metals. Additionally, wrist-mounted web shooters built into the SP//dr suit allow it to web-swing between buildings and entrap enemies. The suit is shielded against radiation, biological, chemical, corrosive, and electrical attacks. In the cockpit, there is an on-board computer operating system that aids Peni in accessing the internet, providing background information, and connecting with (or hacking into) other devices. The inside also has a snack compartment.

Bilingualism: Peni speaks Japanese and English.

Expert pilot: Peni’s piloting abilities have advanced to the point where the SP//dr suit feels like an extension of her body.

Psychic link: Peni allowed herself to be bitten by the SP//dr spider—a radioactive, sentient spider (whom she refers to as her best friend) acting as one half of the CPU that makes the SP//dr suit work. Beyond piloting the suit, the spider shares thoughts and emotions with Peni.

Spider-Sense: Through her psychic connection, Peni possesses a precognitive "spider" sense that warns her of potential immediate danger.

🕷️ 🕷️ 🕷️

[nightcolorz]

i don’t think i’ll ever be done talking about armand songs but for now i only have one left that i need to talk about and that is how much of a loumand song “Starring Role” by Marina is

like first of all “You’re hard to hug, tough to talk to, and I never fall asleep, when you’re in my bed, all you give me is a heartbeat” is so very Dubai loumand and in particular the scene of them alone in their bedroom and how detached it felt, the chaste kiss, Armand’s longing, pleading looks. He’s getting nothing from this.

Then, “I’ve turned into a statue, and it makes me feel depressed, cause the only time you open up in when we get undressed” is both very Armand-as-Rashid with the feeling that he is less of a person and more a servant in the eyes of both Louis and Daniel, and is upset by it. The getting undressed part is interesting because it’s both carrying on from this servant act, fitting in regards to Daniel’s “rent boy” comment, he’s not really a person unless he’s having sex with someone (which oh my god just SO Armand) but ALSO his relationship with Louis outside of the Rashid act- he doesn’t feel like their relationship is anything more than a sexual relationship anyway.

Leading into “You don’t love me, big fucking deal, I’ll never tell you how I feel, You don’t love me, Not a big deal, I’ll never tell you how I feel” Louis doesn’t love him. Not since before the trial at least, its all for spite. He wants Lestat, Armand knows this, and knows he’s only with him for misplaced spite. (“It almost feels like a joke to play a part, when you are not the starring role in someone else’s heart”) But I feel like Armand staying is proof that he does love Louis, even in a twisted way. He can accept it being unreciprocated as long as he has safety and security, even if he’s miserable and will never tell Louis how he feels.

The lines “You know I’d rather walk alone, than play a supporting role, if I can’t get the starring role” I think are an oddly brilliant summary of why Armand chooses to betray Louis in Paris even if it means his death. Armand’s insecurities mean he would rather be alone and self-sabotage than be with someone that he loves that he knows would sideline him for the ghost of his ex (who is also HIS ex)

“Sometimes I ignore you, So I feel in control, Cause really I adore you and I can’t leave you alone” is very reminiscent of Armand’s emotional abuse of Louis to get what he wants (again stemming from a deep insecurity and desperation to not be alone) He can’t be without Louis, so he makes him dependant on him in several ways, then emotionally withdraws for the control it brings.

“You’re like my dad, you’d get on well, I send my best regards from Hell” is a final nail in the coffin, Armand projecting his relationship with Marius onto Louis due to his need to be in that dynamic because its all he knows and recognises as love, even if its self-destructive. Louis goes along with it far too easily, which I think triggers Armand a lot more than he consciously realises. This behaviour is deeply hurting him but he can’t realise or understand why, but has a resentment for Louis come with it even if he loves him and wants him to do it. The mention of Hell is interesting as well, with the connotations. Armand putting himself in Hell as if he was a demon, even though his “father” always called him and angel, heavenly.

“I never sang for love, I never had a heart to mend, Because before the start began, I always saw the end, Yeah, I wait for you to open up, to give yourself to me, But nothing's ever gonna give, I'll never set you free, Yeah, I'll never set you free” This entire bridge just sums up their dynamic terribly well I fear. Armand’s eternal brokenhearted-ness, his “half blank half apocalyptic” looks, doomed from the start, wishing for Louis to be the one to be with him and save him, though not letting him go even if he knows those goals are unachievable.

Marina Lambrini Diamandis somehow you wrote the PERFECT loumand song in 2012 Godbless.

WOOOOOOOOWWW THIS IS PERFECT OMG!!!! This made me stim lol, I love Mariana sm and this is amazing analysis, AHHH YESSSS!!!! Adding to my Armand playlist ASAP. The youd get on well with my dad lyrics goes CRAZY in this context ur mind is incredible.

(Since we r on the subject lol hermit the frog by Mariana is very Amadeo era Armand to me hehe)

[etherealising]

chapter five | we keep this love in a photograph

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader | f!reader x the bear crew | male!oc x f!reader | carmy x claire | carmy x wingwoman!sydney |

summary: as plans are set in motion and renovations move forward, carmy finds himself entangled with the thought of you.

warning(s): guilt | grief | language | mentions of death | mentions of suicide | substance abuse | recovering addict | idiots in love | self-sabotage | insinuation of sex | semi-edited | please let me know if i missed anything

wc: 7.1k

It was 4 am, and the heat from your oven warmed the kitchen. The biscuits lined up nicely on the cooling rack, You hadn’t given much thought to the task at hand, too busy trying to remove yourself from the guilt-ridden thoughts that plagued your mind most nights.

Peach juice coated your hands, the rhythmic act of peeling them helped you to silence the foreboding thoughts fighting their way to the forefront of your brain.

The handwritten recipe card was placed strategically out of the way to not get ruined while you worked around the kitchen. You were no chef that much was obvious, but your mom taught you the art of cooking from a very young age. Instilled in you a sense of independence.

Standing in your kitchen as the night began its metamorphosis into day, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the role your mom played in your life. As a single parent, your mom was adamant about you knowing how to live life without having to depend on the goodwill of others. And even when the Berzattos entered your life, she made sure that you were never too comfortable.

You were allowed to spend as much time with the family as your heart desired, your mom wanted you to understand and enjoy human connection. But she’d always make sure you knew how easy it was for a person to walk out of your life. She liked to remind you that you couldn’t control other people’s actions, and just because you were important to someone today, didn’t mean those same feelings would transcend into tomorrow. To take a little, but never too much, to allow a certain level of comfort but always remember your role in other people’s lives is never as important as you may think.

All the peeled peaches sat atop the cutting board, awaiting the moment they would be pitted and cut into symmetrical slices.

Parents, either unknowingly or not, pass down their own beliefs and ideas to their children. Children who were essentially sponges waiting to soak up whatever knowledge and information was thrown their way. You knew this first hand, your mom’s need for independence is the same flaw that now afflicted you even into adulthood.

The independence that was so far from what you craved growing up, so drilled into you by your mother, that you instead hid behind your dependency on the Berzatto family.

That same need for independence that you had finally given in to and had almost killed you five months ago.

While your mom saw her life lessons as a teaching moment to never overstay your welcome. You easily disregarded it growing up, how could she not expect you to live in your vulnerability, to depend on people she had so easily allowed to love you and take up space in your life?

You didn’t blame your mom for allowing you to know the Berzattos but you blamed her for the part of you that would always remember her words. Always make you second guess if your actions affected people the way theirs did you.

Her words once again made an appearance when Carmy first distanced himself from you and finally made a permanent home in your head when Mikey passed away.

A shrill beep alerted you, the oven was ready. The peaches are pristinely cut, along with the previously made peach simple syrup both awaiting use.

Gingerly adding all the ingredients to your Dutch oven, you placed the lilac pot into the oven before beginning to clean up the mess you made.

You knew your mom did her best raising you with the hand she was dealt. Your father, a shadow you’d never know. Her own life experiences an excuse to protect you from the world, from yourself.

As her health deteriorated, you watched your mom's outlook on life become less skewed. But what good would that do you? The little girl you once were absorbed her constant message and stored it in the back of your mind for safekeeping, awaiting the day such a pessimistic ideal system might one day be put to use.

The timer on your oven was ticking down, the hoard of minutes left until the peach cobbler was done brought on a feeling of despair. Watching the timer dwindle minute after minute felt like a metaphor for your life at the moment.

Time was running out, and maybe that wasn’t true but you sure as hell did feel that way. The time you had left to confess your shortcomings to Richie quickly passed by. The expiration date for whatever the fuck was going on between you and Carmy fastly approaching.

You couldn’t allow these things to continue festering in your life. The weight of them exhausting you, you couldn’t keep pushing on like everything was okay like nothing had changed between any of you.

Choices you made inadvertently affected them just as much as they affected you. You didn’t want this wall between you and them anymore, and even if the wall was nonexistent to them; it was very much real to you.

You would figure things out, you had to. There was no time like the present to commit yourself to fixing the lives you had messed up.

It was easy though walking through life as if you hadn’t ruined anyone else’s. It was almost like you hadn’t, if they weren’t privy to your vices, was there any point in coming clean? Any point in apologizing to them?

Those thoughts were wrong and you knew it. You had to admit your wrongdoings to yourself, to understand why the people you loved the most in life were deserving of an apology, because if you didn’t you would constantly spend the rest of your days justifying why your actions were okay.

Justifying the fact that because you didn’t mean to overdose, that made everything you did okay. That, because you were just going through a mentally tough time in your life, turning to stimulants to aid your grief, was fine. That you were trying to forget for all the right reasons.

Reality was though, there was no right reason for the choices you had been making this whole time. And that was something you still had to come to terms with.

Closing your eyes, your head fell back, face pointed towards the kitchen ceiling. A tired sigh escaped your lips, the exhaustion of recovery taking its toll on you. Tired of standing in the kitchen and being berated by your mind you decided to begin outlining the exposè you were hoping to write on The Bear.

Busying your mind was the easiest option right now, too much unnecessary thinking put you back into the mindset that got you into this mess. Silencing any unwanted thoughts was no longer an option for you, but focusing on something else was proving to work for the time being.

You had made a colossal mistake. Who did you think you were to bring people who cooked for a living a sweet and savory cobbler? That wasn’t your initial plan when you couldn’t sleep this morning and decided to bake. But after removing the dish from your oven allowing the aromas to swim through the foundation of your house, you couldn’t bring yourself to keep it.

A dish that was introduced to you through your mom and the lineage the both of you carried. A dish that Mikey would always want for, but never expect when you did make it for him. A dish that you had spent countless times baking with Carmy by your side the two of you messing up the recipe more than once.

A dish that you once loved so much, but after your mom's death it always tasted like something was missing. And now baking it for the first time since Mikey’s passing you couldn’t even stomach the sickly sweet smell of it.

Walking through the lot to the back door, you were unsurprised to find it unlocked. Entering, you began walking through the kitchen making your way to the counter to place the pastel Dutch oven, the tote bag with vanilla ice cream you picked up on your way there following quickly after.

You weren’t sure who was already here at this time but thought it’d be a nice thing to do by offering them a bowl of the diabetes-inducing dessert. The chunky knit cardigan you were wearing was relegated to the stool next to you, the kitchen felt unusually warm, or maybe that was just your body's natural reaction to being in the restaurant.

Since Carmy had taken over the joint you couldn’t pretend you knew where anything was located. You knew Carmy to be the type of person to run a tight ship, expecting a certain standard from his co-workers.

Searching through the various storage spaces lining the kitchen, you unconsciously bobbed your head to the music singing through your headphones lost to the angelic voice streaming into your ears.

Locating a stack of clear containers you grabbed them before searching for any utensils to eat with, trying four drawers before finding and pulling out a mix of forks and spoons. Finally making your way back to the counter you began ripping the plastic from the store-bought ice cream.

The noise in the kitchen alerted Carmy, the time on his phone signifying that it must’ve been Syd. Inching toward the kitchen he stopped for a moment to check the monthly timelines that were hanging in the front. Every day was filled with a new task, it would be do or die from here on out to even think about opening in six months.

Making his way into the kitchen he stopped the body taking up space notably not Sydney. Your head bobbed up and down to whatever was playing through your headphones. The quiet hum of your voice easily met his ears in the silent kitchen.

He watched as you raised a spoon into your mouth, confused as to why you were in his kitchen this early in the morning. The closed-off kitchen setup didn’t allow him to see what's taking up your attention.

Quietly maneuvering around to get a better view of you, the sudden thought that this may have been an invasion of privacy quickly crossed his mind. He was moments away from leaving you to your own devices before he spotted the scars painted down your right arm. The deepest one tracing from the top of your tricep to your elbow.

Small cuts littered around the larger one, almost like the smaller ones were put there as accent pieces to the main scar. Carmy couldn’t help but wonder what the fuck happened to you after you left his apartment that night, looking from afar it looked as though someone had gone at you with a broken beer bottle or something.

The movement of your arm drew his attention to the reflection of light off of the tape-like bandage above your elbow. His eyes found two bears he would know fucking anywhere, the amount of times you forced him to watch that movie with you and Mikey drove him fucking insane.

Seeing you in this kitchen reminded him of when you were teenagers. It was hard to come to terms with it but he resented you for working at The Beef, resented Mikey even more for allowing you to. It wasn’t fair to you, the more he thought about it the more he realized a lot of the shit he did and felt wasn’t fair to you when you were both younger.

Carmy made his way around the counter you were working at, stopping in front of you the only thing separating the two of you was the steel slab of metal. He wasn’t sure how to get your attention, not wanting to startle you. Standing there watching you shovel what he now knew to be peach cobbler, the nutmeg and cinnamon aroma delicately caressing his nostrils.

The scent easily transported him back to all the moments the two of you spent in borrowed kitchens making this exact dessert.

You were so caught up in the music blaring through your headphones that you hadn’t realized the presence standing in front of you. You jumped spoon clanging against the table as a tattooed hand reached out for the no longer empty container housing the contents of your homemade cobbler and store-bought ice cream.

“Jesus fuck Carmen!” A hand raised to clutch at your chest, you understood how Tina felt yesterday after you snuck up on her. You quickly pulled the headphones off dropping them onto the counter, “Why the fuck are you sneaking around and shit?”

Carmy stared at you blankly, eyebrows raised before his head nodded toward the bowl he was aiming to grab. You rolled your eyes before nodding, “Sure Carmen, almost give me a heart attack in this shit hole kitchen, oh and while you’re at it don’t forget to try my peach cobbler.”

“Heard.” A small nod was sent your way before he shoveled a spoon full of the dessert into his mouth.

A scoff escaped your lips, you picked up your discarded spoon before taking another bite of the ice cream. The atmosphere between the two of you became awkward real quick, neither of you willing to break the silence, neither of you knowing what to say to break the silence.

“So uh, what’s with the cobbler?” You eyed Carmy surprised he was the first to break the silence, you shrugged distracting yourself by putting the lid back on the Dutch oven to persevere the content's warmth.

“Dunno, couldn’t sleep,” it's not like you were lying to him, but standing in his presence acting as though everything was okay made you feel guilty.

“You uh still bake when you can’t sleep?” The sigh you let out was an indication of how this small talk was the last thing you wanted to be doing.

“Obviously Carmen,” your hand shot out to gesture to the pastel pot between the two of you.

“Right…right.” The drumming of Carmy’s finger’s against the steel caused a slight irritation in you. Nodding you wiped the non-existent grime from your hand on your pants.

“Right, well I need to finish my proposal.” You walked the spoon you’d been using to the dishwashing area before joining Carmy one more time, “I’ll be in the dining area if you need anything.”

“You said uh, that you were writing about Mikey and The Beef.” You nodded, waiting for him to finish his sentence, it didn’t sound like much of a question so you weren’t sure what form of response he was expecting.

The silence stretched around the kitchen, an unwavering stare down between you two filling the air with even more tension. You expected things to be stilted between the two of you, but things felt like they were on a whole other level now.

“Well, this is for everybody,” finger quickly pointing at the treats you bought. “It’s kind of a thank you for letting me be a part of this, even if you guys don’t sign off on the article.”

“No, yeah um awesome.” The blank stare you aimed in Carmy’s direction bordered on disgust, leave it to him to make an awkward situation even more awkward, it sure was a talent of his.

You picked up your tote bag and cardigan before heading to the dining area, hoping there was still a table and chair you could occupy. If working here with Carmen meant every interaction would be like pulling teeth, you’d make sure to ignore him like the plague.

“Is that peach fucking cobbler I smell?” Richie’s voice carried through to the dining area where you had sat staring at your finished outline.

You finished a bit ago but didn’t want to chance running into Carmy while it was still just the two of you here. Hearing Richie’s voice and the slight noise as you slipped your headphones off proved that you were no longer alone with one of your oldest friends.

“Baby! Where’s Baby?” You laughed maneuvering out of your seat to head back into the kitchen, unsurprised to find Richie and the rest of the crew gathered around containers of ice cream and cobbler in their hands.

It seemed too early in the day to attack your tastebuds with such a sweet confection, but it was kind of your fault for bringing it in in the first place. You made your way to Sugar’s side with a small smile on your lips as she ate her portion.

In the month after your release, before your house was ready you stayed with Nat and Pete. Your restless energy was channeled into your mom’s dessert recipes, a way to keep your mind occupied and the only way you knew to thank the two adults who hadn’t given up on you.

Nat constantly made it obvious that she missed the constant sweets you would bake just for her.

The two of you made your way to where everyone else was gathered around, you couldn’t lie seeing the empty pot caused a sigh of relief to leave you. You weren’t sure if you could handle being ridiculed by chefs for your poor-tasting dessert.

“This don’t taste like moms baby, you do somethin’ different this time?” Richie eyed you as he raised the spoon to his mouth, it may have tasted a bit different but that didn’t deter him from finishing his serving.

“Uh yeah, a friend of mine taught me how to make this peach simple syrup. It like helps the biscuits stay moist or something. Chef talk isn’t my strong suit.”

Carmy wasted no time before looking in your direction, he was situated across from you, and no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn’t remember ever teaching you how to make a peach simple syrup. He watched as Marcus began talking your ear off about the dessert, the two of you falling into quiet conversation as you found a connection in sweet confectionery.

It was hard to watch as you so easily integrated yourself into the crew, Syd raptly listening to yours and Marcus’ conversation as if you were some award-winning chef and not just some journalist who knew how to bake. As he stood there watching everyone in the kitchen, he couldn’t pinpoint why his thoughts surrounding you seemed so bitter, he didn’t hate you, didn’t think he ever could.

But as he focused on you more, he realized that you were a part of Mikey he never really got to know. Of course, you were Carmy’s best friend but when things between the two of you fizzled out, Mikey’s role in your life became larger, even if you were separated by states and time zones.

Carmy knew he didn’t hate you, but it was hard for him to look at you and not see the relationship he wanted with his brother. He didn’t blame you, but he resented the way it seemed so easy for Mikey to love you, to be open with you.

Catching your eye he nodded his head in the direction of the dining area curious to hear about this article you were thinking about writing and maybe learning more about how it all connected back to Mikey and The Beef.

He made his way to exit the kitchen assuming you would be following behind him. Carmy stopped before turning around, he couldn’t make this decision by himself or at least that was his excuse as he called for Sugar and Sydney to join the two of you. It was probably all for nothing though as he knew the two women were already on board.

The four of you took seats at the table, the arrangement was oddly reminiscent of the meeting yesterday, this conversation taking place at the same table. You sat lonely on one side of the table while the other three occupied the other side.

You glanced down at your laptop in front of you realizing it might be better to join the others, the graphics would have been all for nothing if they couldn’t see them. Quickly grabbing your laptop you wandered over to the three individuals before plopping it in front of them on the table, you walked to grab the closest chair scooting it next to Carmy. You were too worried about the response to your proposal to be worried about being in such close contact with Carmy.

Sitting down you tried not to let the brush of Carmy’s leg against yours bother you, adjusting yourself in your seat before clearing your throat.

“Uhh, I made a PowerPoint,” the time you spent hiding from Carmy this morning allotted you the opportunity to do so. “It’s pretty self-explanatory, but I’ll walk you through it.”

You began clicking through the slides, the nervousness you were feeling earlier taking a backseat as you so easily settled into your element. Time flew by as you grew more passionate about the article with each slide going into even more depth than the information in the presentation did.

“The reach this article will have might just be the difference in The Bear’s success or the lot of us paying back a loan in 18 months.” The smile on your face was enough to show how excited you were at the prospect of being able to go forth with your project.

“Or you know, the food might actually play a part in The Bear’s success,” you looked in Sydney’s direction, confidence shot before noticing the small uptick at the corner of her lips.

You nodded a small chuckle leaving your lips, “I guess the food might play a part.”

Two smiles directed towards you helped to make you feel infinitely better about the whole situation, you were doing your best to disregard the figure sitting next to you. Not doing a very good job as his leg continued to brush against yours which felt like every millisecond, you didn’t want to assume he was doing it on purpose but it did disrupt your focus while explaining your presentation.

“I think it’s a great idea. We’re going to need the exposure,” your eyes shot to Nat as she began speaking. “I mean, there’s really no cons to going through with this.” The encouraging smile Nat sent you reciprocated on your lips.

When nobody spoke up Syd began nodding along, “Yeah, I-I think it’s a great idea, though my opinion may be a little biased.” Her words drifted off into a soft mumble as she realized her previous reading of your work may have influenced her answer.

The two women’s agreement seemed like all you needed, no sign of Carmy itching to chime in. The lull in conversation created an opportunity for everyone to take their respective leave and work on their tasks for the day. You gathered your laptop in your hands and moved the chair you were using back to its original spot.

Making your way to your bag and cardigan you began putting your laptop away and making sure all your belongings were in there so you didn’t leave any valuables behind. You tried to ignore the presence that stayed in the room with you, not in any mood to deal with Carmy’s hot and cold attitude.

“Why is this article so important to you?” Carmy hadn’t said a word doing your entire explanation. It would've been easy to believe he wasn’t in the room if it wasn’t for his warm leg constantly pressing against yours. His arms crossed over his chest, it was hard to pretend you didn’t know what was hiding under the knit crew neck he was wearing.

You found his eyes, the exhaustion in them a mirror to your own. For a minute it was easy to imagine the two of you were teenagers again, the urge to find a seat next to him again and pour your heart out scratching at the back of your mind.

“Can I be honest with you?” You took a glance in Carmy’s direction watching as he relaxed his arms almost like he was opening himself up to whatever you had to get off your chest.

“I uh,” a sardonic chuckle passed through your lips. “I told Mikey I’d write about him one day and…and by the time I finally made it far enough into my career he…he left us.” Carmy’s face didn’t give much away about his feelings making it a little easier to continue your train of thought.

“It's just something I need to do I guess,” you shrugged your shoulders as you faced Carmy once more. The want to be near him won over, taking a few steps to the middle of the table before leaning against it, the once large gap between the two of you now lessened.

“He uh, called me that night. I was at a screening for a friend’s documentary so I just let the call go to voicemail. Texted him after that I’d call him in the morning.” It was weird, Natalie had seen you at your lowest and you had yet to tell her the whole story behind the infamous voicemail that kept you up that night. But standing here with Carmy at this moment gave you a sense of safety you had been lacking.

“I remember waking up in the middle of the night with so many missed calls from Nat and Richie, your mom even called me once,” a humorless laugh escaped your lips, the confidence you had earlier to tell this story dwindling with each word.

“I finally answered Sug’s next call and I remember before she even said anything, I felt like this ache in my chest.” Your hand had subconsciously moved to your chest pressing against it as though you were trying to relieve a bout of heartburn. “And I just…I could feel that something was wrong and you know my first thought was you, tha-that something happened and we never got a chance to fix us.”

“But then Sugar lets out this heart-wrenching sob, like this bone-chilling cry that just like freezes your blood and I’m sitting there listening to her cry and then I’m crying and I don’t even know why yet. And it feels like…like we’ve been on the phone for hours just crying with each other before Pete calms her down enough,” the shakiness not only evident in your voice but your hand that was still resting on the table by your hip. “And it's silent for a moment but I know, the moment the first syllable passes her lips it's like I lose all of my senses and I’m just sitting up in bed, numb to what she’s saying. And it can’t be real, you know because Mikey just called me only a couple of hours ago.”

“As soon as I’m off the phone with Nat I immediately call Richie, and the first thing he says to me is ‘Baby I’m sorry’ he apologizes to me like his best friend that he probably spent his whole day with didn’t just blow his brains out.” The lump in your throat was begging to be free, something you wouldn’t allow to happen. “And Richie is sitting there fucking consoling me because I’m too goddamn selfish to take one fucking breath and make sure he is okay.”

You finally meet Carmy’s eyes again, waterline wet with the tears you won’t allow to fall. “I guess I say all of this to say I owe this article to Mikey, maybe if I had just picked up the fucking phone he’d still be here with us.”

Carmy has no idea how to respond to anything you’d just told him at a loss for words as he allows your emotions to sink into him. He gently reaches his hand out, not knowing if a comforting touch would help, but wanting to do his best to let you know he was there with you. The two of you sat in each other’s presence, the weight of your confession weighing heavy in the room. Carmy knows nothing he says will change anything, it won’t bring Mikey back and it won’t lessen your grief, so for a while, he doesn’t, the two of you sit there connected by your hands.

“Uh, I’m not sure how much Sug told you, but there are these Al-Anon meetings for uh family members of addicts and I’ve been going for a while now,” he gave your hand a small squeeze to make sure you were still listening. “It helps to understand what Mikey was going through.”

You looked down at the man below you, a blank look on your face. You gave him a soft smile as your thumb caressed his knuckles, “Yeah I uh I’ll look into it.” You had wanted to laugh, the irony of the situation not lost on you but you appreciated the help Carmy was trying to offer.

The approaching footsteps easily forced you back to your side of the table, quickly occupying yourself to look busy so you wouldn’t have to explain why you were alone with Carmy. You listened quietly as he and Syd began conversing about something that was none of your business.

“I’m just gonna hang around here before I’ve gotta be at work if that’s cool with you guys?” You looked at the two chefs more so telling rather than asking but still wanting to be polite.

Syd nodded “The more hands the better I guess.” You sent a small smile in her direction before heading to the door hoping to make yourself useful and occupy your mind from the guilty thoughts.

Avoiding Carmy’s eyes as you not going unnoticed by him, though neither of you expected the conversation to take the turn it did. He was relieved that you still felt comfortable enough with him to have a conversation of that nature.

Sydney was doing her best to focus on the chaos menu with Carmy. But with it being the first time in a space so personal to him, she couldn’t help but take in the small details around his apartment that gave a look into who he was.

It was surprising to her really, the whole apartment was bare, lackluster of any interpersonal items besides Carmy’s belongings that one would expect to see. Syd tried not to come across as nosy, or too interested in the small things her eyes did catch onto, but it was hard.

Like the group picture stuck to his fridge with a random cheap banana magnet that no one ever knew they had but it just appeared in their kitchen one day. Or the aesthetic-looking knife set that Syd would equate to something a suburban mom might have in her kitchen and not the gritty anxiety-riddled chef she was cooking with.

What really prickled her curiosity though, was a picture of the two of you strategically placed above the stove. Syd was awarded a glance as Carmy removed his closet from the oven, she couldn’t tell how recent it was from the few seconds she saw it, but it did make her question what Carmy’s idea of an ‘old acquaintance’ was.

It was probably her third pass by the stove before she was finally able to take in a clear understanding of the Polaroid. She would admit she was surprised, the content of the picture far from anything she would ever equate to Carmen Berzatto.

It was of you and Carmy. The two of you were lying next to each other, whether on a bed or the floor, Sydney couldn’t tell. One of your arms was raised, presumably holding the camera in your hand. Even though the moment was captured in time, Syd could feel the intimacy through the photo, almost making her feel too uncomfortable to even be so intrigued by it.

Syd had seen the smile gracing Carmy’s face once or twice in real-time, something he usually kept to himself. He looked happy lying there next to you, like your being there eased him. She focused on you to find you were focusing on him, your head tilted up a little, eyes gleaming full of love.

You looked at Carmy the way Syd’s dad talked about her mom. Like your entire life was destined to be entangled with Carmy’s.

As Sydney focused on the picture once more, she finally noticed the number written on the white space of the Polaroid. Her only assumption that it must’ve been yours.

Her curiosity had finally gotten the best of her. From the way you two interacted, to the Polaroid she was sure she had taken in every detail of , there was history between you and Carmy.

“Hey uh, can I ask you a question?” She moved to sit at the table where Carmy was prepping pasta. She wasn’t sure whether she should beat around the bush or just outright ask her question.

Carmy raised his head, eyes catching hers before giving a slight nod, Syd took a deep breath. She would consider her and Carmy friends, but she didn’t want him to think she was crossing some line. “Uh what’s the deal between you two,” she said your name for clarification, not yet sure if she was allowed to call you by the nickname so many others did, and not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Carmy froze for a minute, but his recovery was so quick if Syd wasn’t paying attention she wouldn’t have caught it. “It’s just uh, you called her an acquaintance, but I don’t think anybody gets those vibes from you two,” she trailed off not wanting to make Carmy feel pressured.

“I mean you have a shrine to her above your stove.” Carmy’s head snapped up to Syd before looking at the picture above his stove, Syd’s soft laugh signifying her quip as a joke.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled along with her, the weight on his shoulder at the idea of talking about you lessening a bit. “She uh, we were best friends growing up, she lived across the street from us.”

Syd nodded her head waiting for any more details, she wasn’t normally one to pry but Carmy’s explanation sounded like such bullshit compared to the way you two acted around each other. “So you guys like never dated or anything?” Syd’s curiosity caused the question to come across as less casual than she hoped.

“No, no. Just friends,” Carmy nodded eyes still on the pasta doing his best to distract his mind from Sydney’s line of questioning.

“Did you ever like, I dunno want more with her?” Carmy stopped eyes finally meeting Syd’s, he stood there for a moment just taking in her question. Although you once admitted your desire for something more with him, he still hadn’t. And he wasn’t sure if now in his kitchen with Sydney was the right time or place to do it.

But Syd didn’t need him to verbally answer, the look in his eyes told her more than what she had even asked. The two of them were only speaking about you and the longing in Carmy’s soft blue eyes was enough for Sydney to feel like she interrupted a sudden declaration of love.

Sydney cleared her throat, averting her eyes not at all meaning to get into anything too personal. Just a bit curious about the nature of the relationship between you two. “So any ideas on how to make this chaos menu…thoughtful?”

Carmy was grateful for Syd’s diversion of topics. If she had picked up on the tension between the two of you, he was sure the rest of the crew had. And if that meant everyone was privy to the unfinished history between the two of you then neither of you were as sly as you thought.

You lost Hayden somewhere between first entering the store and him wandering off for his necessities. You didn’t mind though, he was nice enough to offer you a ride home and stop by the store as the two of you brainstormed about your respective dinners for the night.

Wandering around on your own in a store you had never been to probably wasn’t the smartest decision you made. Case in point is the fact that you were standing in the alcoholic beverage section trying to fight the urge to peruse through the variety and pick your favorite form of poison.

The sound of your name caught your attention, eyes shooting to Hayden’s impeccably dressed form. You’d be the first to admit maturity had done him good, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up to show off his toned forearms. The top three buttons were undone, his chest giving a preview of what he had to offer.

His lips wrapped around your name again, a slight frown to his brows. He looked around the aisle before his eyes landed back on you with a small smile decorating his lips, “You okay?” You watched as he checked you over, the action irritated you a bit. Was he expecting you to go batshit crazy in the middle of the grocery store and just start hammering away at the countless bottles?

“Fine, just got distracted. I um, I just need some açaí and I’ll be good.” You gave him your best smile hoping it would reassure him, the one he returned ensured just that.

The two of you made your way to the frozen food section, meaningless small talk passing between the two of you.

“I can’t believe you still eat this shit,” you scoffed, quickly grabbing the bag of frozen açaí from the freezer. Closing the door as you made your way back to Hayden the two of you ready to make your leave.

“If I recall, you had no problem eating this in my dorm all those years ago,” the boisterous laugh that escaped Hayden caused a similar one to leave you, neither of you having brought up this topic of conversation since reuniting.

“Had to replenish all that lost stamina somehow,” your eyes widened slightly Hayden’s smirk did nothing to quell the heated feeling spreading through you.

He walked past you, grabbing your hand so you would follow behind him. “What’s got you quiet all of a sudden?” You knew he was teasing you, the tone in his voice bringing a chuckle out of you.

“Just wasn’t sure how well you remembered our college shenanigans.” The shrug of your shoulders was supposed to feign nonchalance, but the wide grin on your face proved the opposite.

The two of you had lost any rush to leave the grocery store, casually walking around hands entwined together. “To forget a girl like you would be criminal,” you faced Hayden nose scrunching up at his words a laugh bubbling out of your lips.

“Didn’t you get married?” Hayden laughed, throwing his arm around your shoulder as the two of you continued around the store aimlessly just enjoying the company of an old friend.

“You didn’t want me the way I wanted you. Had to move on at some point.” The melancholy tone in his voice caused a feeling of guilt to shoot through your heart. You nodded a sad smile gracing your lips, the squeeze on your shoulder helping to alleviate your remorse.

“Listen, Hayden, I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything,” you sighed as you moved to stand in front of him. “It just wasn’t fair of me to commit to a long-term relationship with you when my heart wasn’t in it.” He nodded a smile sent in your direction.

“No, I uh I appreciate it, wouldn’t have married Marlene if you didn’t set me straight,” you smiled happy there was a bright side to this whole situation. “Probably wouldn’t have divorced her either. Hey, should I send you my lawyer fees or.” Hayden trailed off, grin returning to his face as you laughed swatting at his bicep.

All he saw in his head was you. As dramatic as it sounds it felt like the thought of you was keeping him alive, from the way you had all but disappeared when they opened Mikey’s locker. To the photo above his stove that was seared into his brain. So preoccupied with thoughts of you he had missed the aisle he intended to go down three times.

Finding his destination Carmy made his way down the aisle, stopping as he saw you laughing with a man he didn’t recognize. His mind going back to the conversation he had earlier with Sydney, Carmy did want more with you. He wanted a lot more than what the two of you allowed to transpire all these years.

Carmy wanted a life with you, a life where he was the one making you laugh in the grocery store. Where his apartment wasn’t just filled with a, year old photograph of the two of you, but filled with your presence.

He envisioned a life with you, and he wasn’t sure why he had sabotaged every chance you had given him to make that a reality. Carmy continued his journey through the store, thoughts of you played heavily on his mind. It didn’t matter what he wanted though if he never gained the courage to tell you. There was a lot unsaid between the two of you, but you had made your feelings clear. Tried to reconcile whatever relationship the two of you still had left. And the ball was in his court, had been since your impromptu visit last year.

Even when reunited with the girl he had crushed on once upon a time, you were still at the forefront of his mind. The woman in front of him is a cruel reminder of all the ways he messed up with you.

Carmy’s thoughts ran so wild with you as he entertained Claire’s conversation, that he didn’t think twice before giving her a number that had been left on a Polaroid a year ago and now decorated the space above his stove; but not the contact book in his phone.

a/n: it’s here!!! i think this chapter is pretty tame which is kind of out of character lol. thankful to be done with this chapter so i can explore some ideas i’ve been having! thank you all so much for your love and support! please support me in whatever way feels comfortable!!! 💜

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