#Therapy sessions are hard but oh so important | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sukunasun · 23 days

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Thinking about Geto who would have never thought he likes to be called daddy. Outside of being a real parent ofc. It’s unexpected. As Reader tries to work with the recently adopted twins to ease their trauma and get them ready for school via play therapy, they attach themselves to her easily, hungry for a maternal figure in their life. Whenever Geto sits in the waiting area for the session to end, Mimiko and Nanako blast out the door and Reader somehow always refer to him as daddy in their presence. “Oh, look, daddy is ready to pick you up”, “Go, tell daddy how good you two were”, “Come on, show these drawings to daddy”. And it has him in a chokehold. The word just sounds so good from her mouth. So good he might try to rizz her up. And he couldn’t care less about that it’s unprofessional for reader to fuck a client’s parent. For him it’s a challenge. A challenge to hear that word again. Just for him and nobody else.

why it sounds so good has less to do with sex but necessity. the assurance that he—single father of two with no experience, no status, and not a dime to his name—is a protector, capable and conscious of his life. no longer the smart-talking teen or charismatic cult leader with plans for world domination.

he thinks it shouldn't feel this good to be relied upon when he's barely thirty and buckles under pressure to make ends meet. three part-time jobs and it's still not enough. the stress of juggling priorities and responsibilities is immense. his wants and needs set aside. which is probably why his self-esteem tanked and he constantly feels like a failure. making mistakes, trying again, learning and re-learning the basics. how to cook, how to clean is more important. ultimately, 'how to parent' isn't a step-by-step process.

despite that, you don't see him differently. in fact, you admire him for it. "it can't be easy but you're doing a great job, the girls love you so much," you say, with clear eyes and unwavering affirmation—then asking his daughters in a fond and friendly tone—"isn't daddy the best?"

there are so many meanings to a word and he's aware you're only referring to him as the father of his children because making that distinction is important. it helps the girls get accustomed to seeing him as a parent, not just the person who's saved them. he won't jump to conclusions. he respects you after all. sweet sing-song voice and a heart of gold are just a bonus, you've helped his girls, you've helped him.

still, the novelty doesn't fade, and neither does the sentiment. the pride that blooms when he hears it ringing in his ears, resounding in his chest. he's daddy. geto rarely seeks approval. only compliance, obedience, and maybe servitude on a rare occasion...but praise and recognition? it's too hard to pass up when it's from you.

although, the sexual connotation lingers. curse his dirty mind filled with filthy intentions. he'd only just gotten the hang of keeping his composure around you, carrying conversations with ease while pushing those obscene thoughts away. they beg for his attention as much as your instructions do, 'remember this and that...' gets lost while pulling himself together before you catch on. eye contact and all smiles as he memorizes your face.

he's going to need it later. or whenever he requires a little help. his imagination works wonders but he's also a stickler for accuracy. your lab coat hides modest sweaters and long skirts, maybe a loose-fitting t-shirt when you and the girls play outside. he can't picture your figure underneath when nothing is revealing. not the heft and weight of perky bosoms and a full ass, the dip and curve of a waistline, part of him—all of him—hopes he'd be the only one who gets to pry those layers off you, unveiling that secret side.

your glasses give it away, shielding the same lewd thoughts of your own. he notices your wandering eyes coveting his body, feels your rapid heartbeat on the side of his arm when you're pressed close. he's well aware of the effect he has on most women, but especially for someone like you who tries so hard to resist.

as weeks went by, his plans to tempt you were coming closer to reaching fruition. "daddy talks about you a lot," nanako whispers as she lets you in on a secret and mimiko nods in agreement, her voice lowered too, "mhm, daddy said you're very smart and pretty."

they wouldn't lie about him, so you smile and take their word for it. falling for giggling faces hidden behind tiny hands. you reply, "that's so nice of him, please do thank him for me," for confidentiality's sake, because you wouldn't want geto getting embarrassed.

besides, there are rules on keeping them at a distance, they aren't your only clients, growing attached would make things difficult and you're starting to see the effects of it as the days go by. for all that talk about 'being professional' you spend too much time thinking about their daddy outside of these walls.

"you shouldn't give him preferential treatment..." says the receptionist, not hiding her cheshire cat grin. she's been watching you like a hawk since he walked in and made an appointment—it wasn't his body, or his face that caught your eye, both beautiful and modelled after a dream but once the shock has set in and you observed him closely, the scene has stuck with you since. his daughters are twins, both dressed well for the weather and there are no signs of distress in their expressions. they look at him like he's their favourite person. wide, shining eyes and a giddy-ness in their steps. he keeps them close to him, "no wandering around, let's not get lost," he said, sounding assertive but gentle at the same time. they nod, holding onto his pant leg on each side. the way his posture straightened tall, his expression serious as he filled out forms, requiring no assistance should you add, with the details when often most don't even remember birth dates or blood types.

most do the bare minimum but he stood out then in a suit, "i thought it was important to make a good first impression," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. it's hardly a formal occasion but the thought is appreciated when he looks so stunningly handsome. the other single mothers who come by seem to think so too. some bring him leftover bentos and homemade curry. you always thought they'd charm him well enough given that he's single—a fact you're surprisingly way too relieved about—but he remains happy and perfectly content as a bachelor.

the receptionist continues, pointing out these tiny changes you make to your routine—fixing your hair, using a new perfume, your voice pitches higher around him, repeatedly checking your reflection in your compact before his arrival—it's just as evident to you, the woman who's always been unbothered with keeping up appearances. "aw...does someone have a crush on daddy?" she pouts childishly.

"i like all my clients equally," you correct her, "and i don't see him that way. if anything, i just think he's a great parent is all. he's always on time for sessions and applies what we've learned. he's shown exceptional effort."

she wiggles her brows suggestively, "i bet he's exceptional in other ways too...if you know what i mean." ugh. just when you think it couldn't get worse.

"that's none of our business and we shouldn't be discussing this, it's very inappropriate," you know better than to jeopardize your position. you've worked hard for this, spent weeks gaining the trust of two very sweet and adorable girls, it's not worth considering an illicit affair. yes, an affair, because that's all it'll ever be when he's got too much on his plate.

"tsk, you're no fun," she swats you and your hardened face away, deciding then to finally get back to work, but not before she gets the last word in, sighing longingly, "i wonder if he'll ever marry..."

you admittedly do too. fantasizing about being his wife has become a habit and you like to think he'd make room for you, raising the girls together. there wouldn't want for anything because he gets shit done. so responsible and decisive. it's all about taking the initiative, unlike all the other lacklustre men you've dated before. he'll make plans and treat you to nice things. no excuses, no need to soothe bruised egos. it would be nice to be taken care of for once. so much so that it would be easy to relinquish control. all you need is a taste of submission.

geto isn't afraid of a challenge. not even if you play hard to get. how you'd like to step on his toes, a dominating figure who puts you in your place, you wouldn't make it easy for him when he doesn't cower at the sight of a well-made woman.

that night, you barely make it pass your door before your clothes come off. biting your lip and holding back a moan, feeling a heat rise in your belly. tonight isn't about getting it over with but to last as long as possible. or at least until you get to the good part without coming all over your fingers—imagining his weight pressing down onto you. legs folded up and resting upon broad, sturdy shoulders. feet lifted with no purchase, you can't do anything but take it as he thrusts slow and steady, feeling your tight walls clamp down. milking him for everything he's got.

your fingers slip in and the stretch barely measures up to the real thing as you mimic every drag and pull of his cock. you don't worry about size or shape because it belongs to him. how often you've thought about the weight of it on your tongue, dripping precum down your fist. you'd strip him out of his lame harem pants, his pressed trousers, those god-forsaken gym shorts that drive you crazy. taking him down your throat when it's hot out and he's just finished one of his many night shifts. you heard he's working at a restaurant now. oh he'd smell like grease and noodles but you couldn't care less. your mouth begs to suck him off. after all, it's the least you could do when daddy works so hard.

"shh, you wouldn't want the girls waking up," he'd warn, but doing just the opposite to keep you quiet. it makes your legs shake, craving it all the more. i'm sorry daddy, lies on tip of your tongue, you whisper it out into an empty bedroom. save for the sounds of the squelching, slippery mess you make.

he's vocal but not dramatic, he doesn't rush into things, and takes his time to talk you through it. "i know it feels good, i've got you, i'll make my baby come," his baby, you love the sound of it. his voice wraps around you like a cocoon. so secure you could let go, give in to him, submit. he'd tend to your pleasure more than his own. let him take charge, let him make full use of your pussy like he owns it. maybe he'll punish you if you disobey.

glasses askew, hair frazzled, resolve in shambles. your tears spill, they burn your cheeks. i can't, i shouldn't, you chant. it doesn't matter that his cock stretches you out deliciously, or that he sneaks a hand to wrap around your neck, you can't let this man make you lose all your inhibitions and better judgement. your mind races, wet and sticky fingers pumping faster, there's a ringing in your ears and you hear your own breaths huffing out, your pussy clenches and for a second, it feels like your orgasm might slip from you the more you hold back.

how real he appears in your mind's eye, "daddy, daddy, daddy please," you whine, cry, scream. a familiar wave builds and wrings a knot in your stomach, your clit throbs and your fingers jam themselves against that spot deep inside, wishing it was him prodding you with vigor. you're so close you think of his broad back, his sweaty neck, his veiny arms around you so tight. holding you hostage as he gently coaxes you towards the edge. "that's it," he groans and you swear you hear it above you— "come for daddy," and you're crumbling and coming undone at the seams, not the least bit sated or sure of facing him again the next morning.

#ask #anon #sunpiece #saturated #geto suguru #just a short one #jjk smut #jjk hcs #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader

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gurugirl · 1 year

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A Balancing Act | Ch. 2*

Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.

Chapter Summary: Y/n learns that Harry kissed another woman and decides to move on. Harry crashes Y/n's date to get her to change her mind. But then he makes a shocking discovery.

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut (oral sex sort of), angst

Word Count: 9,739

Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)

A Balancing Act Masterlist

Returning to LA after his tour in Latin America, Harry was sitting with Pat in his lovely house. Matcha tea was served and she started off by asking him how he was feeling emotionally lately. She tended to want to start off their sessions by letting him talk about his emotions and how he was dealing with his busy life, reserving the topic of relationships and love until toward the end. It gave her a good gauge of his overall well-being.

“I miss home. It’s always the hardest when I feel like I’m missing out on so much. Feels like I’m ignoring what’s really important in life and focusing too much on myself. Feels selfish. I know that no one thinks that. My mum is always telling me to not worry but it’s just hard. Especially because I’m closing in on 30 and just feels like I’ve just been playing around for all my life.”

“But this is your work. And you do work hard. You’re just lucky that you’re talented enough that you can delve into this kind of creativity and make a living from it. You’re putting more responsibility on yourself than is necessary. You’re on your own path, Harry. And while from the outside everything looks fun and glamorous, even you know the truth because you live it. It’s hard. So don’t discount yourself by feeling like you’re not doing enough. Your mom is okay. She can take care of herself. Gemma is okay too. She’s doing well. Your friends and all the people that matter in your life support you. Comparing yourself to the 9-5 worker isn’t going to do you any good. You’re a successful artist. An entrepreneur. Just imagine if you weren’t. You’d be in Manchester or London and working some mundane job. Sure you’d be around your family but you wouldn’t be thriving like you are now. I think you’d be miserable and if you’re miserable your family will feel that.”

Harry nodded, “Probably. I guess I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”

“I can’t either. But it’s more about how you’re dealing with that guilt. I think as you’re getting older your priorities are shifting a little. And that’s okay. It’s good to welcome new awareness. Just be sure to not dwell on it because no one else is.”

Harry sniffed a laugh and smiled. Pat was right of course. He knew all of this. They’d been talking about his guilt a lot more recently and he recognized it was more because there were particular milestones that society set for people. And Harry had met many milestones but the basic ones like love, family, stability, children were all things he’d had yet to really achieve. Of course, he had a family but not his own, with a spouse and kids and a little house in town… but that wasn’t his to have yet. And the little house in town might wind up looking more like a bunch of houses in different parts of the world. He couldn’t deny he was lucky but he also couldn’t ignore that he felt like he’d been shirking his adult responsibilities.

“Okay. I can tell you need to say something. Want to move on from this subject?”

Harry grinned and repositioned himself to face more squarely toward Pat, “I met someone.”

“Oh? What does that mean?”

“I met her in Chicago. She was staying at the hotel I was in but she was there for an art show, she’s this really talented artist. But anyway… we just hit it off. We’ve been talking on the phone almost every night. I really like her.”

Pat nodded and placed her mug down, “That’s great. So, she stayed at the hotel you were in but how did you come to actually meet her?”

Harry described the scene at the bar and then how he invited her to his show the following evening, “I just… I don’t know. She’s not famous or anything but she acted like I was just a normal guy. And we really connected mentally and physically. She really seems to like all the things I like.”

“You mean, in bed? Or have you really gotten to know her on a deeper level?” She smirked and tilted her head. Harry was like this. He could connect with all kinds of people and it made his heart swell and lurch and then as fast as it filled up it all deflated just as quickly.

“Well, not just in bed. But yeah. We just clicked.”

“Look, I think that’s great. Just remember, you are okay as a single man too. Correct? You don’t need to be loved all the time. You are enough. You don’t have to fall in love and get married and have children to be a whole person. Society says you need that but you get to choose your path. But if you really like, this, uh… what’s her name?”

“Y/n. Even her name is pretty.”

“Y/n. Well, if you like her enough just take your time. Get to know her. Long distance is hard and phone calls are good but no substitute for face-to-face time. Do you think she’s as serious about this as you are?”

Harry shrugged and pursed his lips to the side, “I think so. I mean… we’ve talked about a lot and she’s told me so many things about herself. I guess I haven’t asked her to make it official, though.”

“Probably wise to wait to make it official. Jumping into a serious relationship could backfire as you well know. And there is the matter that you’re on the road so often. Did you see anyone else while you were away?”

Harry shook his head, “No. I actually really like Y/n. Didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up.”

Pat sighed, “You do realize you were supposedly spotted leaving a party with a woman people claimed you were kissing. Right? Just a couple of weeks ago. Which would have been after your Chicago shows.”

Harry groaned and nodded. He did know. His PR team told him about the supposed fan sighting and there was even a photo of him with a woman. Who he did kiss, but it wasn’t a kiss that meant anything. It was just a bit of fun and Harry had had a good amount of tequila. He honestly was just flirting and wanted to kiss the woman. But of course, when she wanted to take things further he declined because Y/n had been on his mind.

That was one thing about Harry. He was flirty and he’d kiss people he never intended on sleeping with. He kissed men and women and flirted all the time but usually, it was more friendly than sexual. Sometimes people got the wrong idea but that was just how Harry was. He loved getting close to people and touching. Loved hugs and kisses especially if he knew the person.

Even when he was with his last ex she’d gotten used to him kissing others and holding hands with someone else. But it wasn’t always very well received. Like the time she left one of the parties they were at early because she was tired and then he was filmed making out with a friend on a couch in front of people. He had a lot of explaining to do for that one. She forgave him but it hurt her. She cried. Harry felt bad that he’d done it. He loved how it felt to kiss someone and have them kiss him back, the zip of excitement and the tiniest bit of tension.

“Yes. I’m aware. I don’t know that she’s heard anything just yet. I think the photo only got published like yesterday or day before.”

“Well, it’s probably a good idea to talk to her about it before she sees the photo and reads the salacious headlines. That is if you’re interested in still seeing her.”

He nodded and looked down at his lap.

“Now, let’s talk about how you’re doing with all your new endeavors coming up. The timelines and the travel that will entail.”

. . .

Y/n was usually late with getting news or updates on celebrities. She spent a lot of her time painting during the day so unless she took a break and used her free time to peruse social media sites she might not realize things like the fact that the man she was beginning to develop feelings for had kissed another woman while he was away in another country.

Just as on this day. She was blissfully unaware of what he’d done as of yet. That is until Kat, her best friend, called in the middle of her glazing a painting she’d just completed.

She hadn’t told anyone about Harry except for Kat. Kat would keep her mouth shut about everything. Y/n knew she could trust her friend with her new secret. Not that Harry told her to not tell anyone but he did mention it would be better if very few people knew.

“Hello?” She spoke into the receiver as she capped the glaze and wiped her hands on her bibs.

“Hey babe. Did you see the link I sent you?”

“Uh… no. I’ve been working on a piece all morning.”

“Put me on speaker. Take a look.”

Y/n clicked the sound to the speaker and opened up her texts to see the link from Kat.

The moment the Daily Mail website came up with a blurry, dark photo of Harry standing very close to a woman she felt her heart drop.

Reading the caption of the article:

STYLES SPOTTED KISSING MYSTERY WOMAN IN COLOMBIA

“Are you seeing it?” Kat asked.

“Yeah. I am.”

The article mentioned him leaving with the woman after a party and Y/n put the phone back to her ear, not wanting to read more in that moment, “Thank you, Kat. I’m glad you showed me.”

“Of course. I mean… it’s Daily Mail so it might not be anything, but I just wanted you to have that info just in case. You know?”

Y/n nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, “Yeah. I know. I’m gonna go, though. I need to finish my canvas. But I’ll call you later, okay?”

Letting out a shaky breath she sat down so she could read the whole article, line by line. Obsess over the information and then google to find more websites and gossip pages, supposed first-hand accounts, unnamed sources talking about how he’s been seeing her for a while and he’s excited, other blurry photos of him at the party drinking…

She shook her head and stood up, locking her phone and putting it down on the table near the bottle of glaze. She looked over her canvas and figured she could take a break. It would be good for her to get out and take a walk. Clear her mind and figure out what she wanted to do.

Her walk resulted in her only dwelling on everything. He hadn’t called her in a couple of days but she knew he was traveling back to LA. She felt like he’d probably needed the rest from all the shows, the jetlag, time zone changes… but perhaps it was because he was seeing someone else now.

And that was certainly possible. They didn’t know one another all that well. She hadn’t even told him the whole story about her husband yet. About what had happened to him. And there had been no commitment made. They had sex in his hotel room. A few times. And it was really good. She felt they had a unique connection. Her feelings for him grew a little more quickly than was wise probably and the Facetime calls with all the revelations of things from their past and what they wanted in the future felt like she was talking to someone whom she could see herself with. He’d also given her his personal cellphone number which she knew was sort of a big deal.

But of course, that was ridiculous. This was Harry Styles and even if he did like her (which she was sure he liked her on some level) that didn’t mean they’d end up together. He could choose anyone. It certainly wouldn’t be her.

Later that night as she snacked on dill pickles and popcorn she fell into the hole of the search engine on her laptop.

The night Harry was supposedly seen with the woman was a night he hadn’t called her (she checked her call log). He didn’t call her every night, but it was still noted. Then she found another “source” saying Harry was happier than he’d ever been and that the Colombian woman was spotted in LA with him.

He hadn’t called her again that night either. Closing her laptop she figured it was over. She wouldn’t be calling him to find out what was going on. He didn’t owe her anything and it would look weird and stalkery to be asking him about the other woman. As if she had any claim on him.

Opening up her DMs on Instagram she decided to check back in on Dante. He’d messaged her all that time ago and she’d left him on read once Harry came into the picture. Maybe it was time to find someone closer to being in her own league.

. . .

Harry had a little time off and he caught up on much-needed sleep and getting back into a normal routine. He’d planned on calling Y/n that night. He’d been back in LA for a few days and felt like he was back in the right time zone finally. But he wondered why he hadn’t heard from her at all either. Normally she’d send off a little text during the day. A meme or something that would make him laugh. But it was silence from her for almost five whole days. Not that he’d reached out either but still…

He wondered what she was doing. It was a Saturday night and when he realized she was two hours ahead of him he figured he might as well give her a ring to see how she was. It was nearly 9pm her time already.

But the call went to voicemail so he left a message, a smile on his face, “Hey you… haven’t heard from you in a few days figured I’d give you a call to see what’s happening. I’ve been back in LA for a bit and I’m all caught up on rest. Give me a call back when you’ve time!”

She didn’t return his call that evening.

The following day Harry checked his messages and texts but he’d still gotten nothing from her and it was already midday (yes, he’d slept in quite late since he was up late writing a new song he couldn’t get out of his head). It was odd.

Shooting off a text message to her he suddenly had a feeling that perhaps she was avoiding him. Perhaps she’d seen the articles about him with someone else. He hoped that wouldn’t deter her from wanting to see him again. Hoped that she’d at least let him explain.

He needed to do something about it if that was the case. He couldn’t let her slip away without even having had the chance to see where it could go.

. . .

She heard the voicemail. In fact, she saw her phone light up with a notification that he was calling her in real time.

But she’d just messaged Dante and they had plans to meet up the following weekend. She’d been lucky that he hadn’t already come to town for the art exhibit. She thought she’d missed her chance when she messaged Dante back and apologized for not responding sooner. But he was polite as ever and they made plans to see one another.

So she was going to move on from Harry. There was unlikely anything good to come of it anyway. She had an amazing night with him and a handful of orgasms she could reminisce on but he was a world-famous pop star and he was single and surely he wanted to play the field for as long as he could. She understood it, but that didn’t make the situation feel any better. Therefore, the only way to get over him and to move on was to stop contact with him and get back out there.

Plus, now that she’d been with a man after her husband she felt like it was time to start dating again. It had been fun with Harry and she could have fun with others too. Maybe she’d sleep around a bit. See what that was like. Sow her wild oats. She’d gotten married so young and had little experience before him… Yeah, it was time to get out and date.

The following day she saw a text from Harry after leaving a meeting with someone who knew an art dealer.

Was just thinking of you. Missed hearing your voice. I’m back in LA now. Call me or text back.

She sat in her car and locked her phone, putting her head behind her on the headrest. What was he doing? She was kind of confused that he’d called her, left a voicemail, and then today had texted her. She really was trying to just move on. Figured he had too. But she was too curious not to call him. However, she’d keep him waiting until she was at home with a bottle of wine before she reached out. Maybe she’d hear him out. Maybe he wouldn’t bring up the other woman. She wouldn’t be bringing it up unless he did, but he had to know she’d heard about it. Right?

So, she took the long way to her house, stopping to pick up a bottle of wine and Chinese food before getting home.

She drew her curtains and took her clothes off, only wearing her panties and a tank top, and put her hair up in a messy bun on her head (like the real-deal messy buns, not those cute going-out-messy-on-purpose messy buns). Pouring herself a glass of wine and taking a big gulp she looked down at her cell phone as she sat on her couch and re-read his text.

For some reason she was nervous. She wasn’t sure how this conversation would play out but she wanted to find out what the result would be. This could possibly (most definitely) be the end for them. And she’d be okay with that if it were. Bummed, but fine. She still had her date with Dante to look forward to.

She dialed the number and put him on speaker as she leaned back into her couch and covered her face. She didn’t know if he’d pick up or not but she wanted to get this conversation out of the way.

“Hello!” Harry’s voice came over the speaker quickly. He sounded keyed up.

“Hi. It’s Y/n. You called and texted so I wanted to return your call.”

“Oh yeah… well, it’s been a few days. Was wondering how you were. So, yeah… How’ve you been?”

“I’m good. And you?”

Harry paused and noted the way she answered him in a clipped tone, cold. Not her normal friendly disposition.

“I’m well. Is… is everything all right?”

“Sure. Just doing my thing. Is everything all right with you?”

Harry sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, “Yeah. Um… did you read something about me? Is that why you’re upset?”

Y/n laughed and took a sip of her wine. Here we go, she thought to herself.

“Do I sound upset to you, Harry?”

“You actually do. Yes. Look, if you’re pissed about the articles from when I was in Colombia, I just want you to know that all of that is blown out of proportion. Right? So-“

“Oh. Interesting So you’re saying you didn’t make out with a Colombian woman at a party in Bogota?” God, she hated to sound so jealous but he did bring it up first. She cringed as she let her hurt feelings surface, but it was too late to keep her cool like she intended.

Harry sighed loudly, “I just mean that’s all blown out of propor-“

“Yes, you said that. I’m asking if what is being said is true or not.”

“It didn’t mean anything, Y/n. I am a bit of a flirt and I kissed a woman but that was it! I swear. I thought of you the whole time-“

“It’s fine, Harry. You don’t owe me anything. Besides, I’m going on a date next weekend anyway. We’re free to see other people, right? And-“

“A date? Next weekend?”

She laughed, “Yes. A date. Next weekend. It’s not like you and I will get to see one another much anyway. If at all. So there’s no reason to drag this out. We had fun but it’s clearly not something we need to bother ourselves with.”

“Bother… what? I thought we really connected, Y/n. I’m confused. I really like you.”

“But how can you say that when you made out with someone else? I really like you too Harry but you’re seeing other people because you know as well as I do that this, whatever it is between us, was never serious. Right?”

“No. No that’s not true. And I didn’t make out with her! It was like a quick party kiss sort of thing. Damnit! I swear, Y/n. I’m sorry. I had a little too much tequila and I kissed her but I really was thinking about you and she wanted me to come with her to her room but I told her I was seeing someone and that was it! God, I fucked this up didn’t I?”

Y/n sat for a moment. She had to admit she was surprised by all of this. Surprised that he’d contacted her after she didn’t respond the first time, that he seemed upset about possibly having offended her or hurting her, and that he was acting like he really did like her. But she determined that it was best if they parted ways. She realized it would simply be too hard for this to work. And based on the way his fans obsessed over the Colombian woman and were already talking shit about her (when they didn’t even know who it was) she knew she was right. She had to put an end to it before she got her heart broken.

“There was never anything to fuck up, Harry. But, look… let’s be honest here okay? I’m just a regular gal. I’m not your type, not the type that would be able to deal with your fame and all your adoring fans. I had a lot of fun with you and I think you are absolutely amazing. I really do like you but I just can’t see this working. You know?”

Harry shook his head and tried to stay calm. He had to think. He had to make this work. And he needed to not freak out about the fact that she was going on a date. He hated to think of her with anyone else. And yes, he did kiss a woman, but it wasn’t the same thing! Not to him anyway.

“I think you’re wrong. I think it can work. Let me prove it to you. I’ll come see you. Cancel your date next weekend and let me take you out instead.”

Y/n blinked her eyes, taken aback. She was truly shocked that he wanted to see her again and that he wanted to make it work but still…

“Harry…” she sighed, “you can’t expect me to cancel my date. That’s really not fair to me.”

He knew she was right, “Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m overstepping. I just thought we really connected. I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

Pulling her lips into her mouth she sat her glass of wine down. She was looking forward to seeing him again too, until she learned about the kiss. Even if they weren’t serious and even if the kiss meant nothing to him it meant something to her, “Please don’t make this hard. I really did like you, Harry. But it’s obviously not going to work. And that’s okay.”

“No. It’s not okay. I’m coming to see you. You don’t have to cancel your date. I’m not going to boss you around, but I’ll be flying to Chicago on Friday morning. I’m going to prove to you that we have something good here, Y/n. And if you still don’t see that after next weekend then I’ll back off.”

She couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t beside herself with the idea that he wanted to put in so much effort to see her. And she certainly couldn’t stop him from going to Chicago and she wouldn’t. But she did feel like it was unlikely he’d actually show up.

“I mean… Jesus, Harry.” She shook her head and grinned, her heart pounding, “You’re crazy. I don’t understand why you want to do this. We had a night together-“

“It was more than just a night. Y/n, come on… you know as well as I do that it was more than just that. All the things we talked about on the phone all those nights. Did that mean nothing? I shared so many personal things with you and I know so many things about you too. But I want to know everything. All of you. I might be crazy but I can’t just give up.”

“We’ll see. And I can’t stop you from flying out here but I’m not going to make you any promises either.”

Harry was determined. More than ever. He knew it was special with Y/n. He knew she knew it too. The night he had her in his hotel room was maybe the hottest sex he’d ever had. And of course, hot sex doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re soul mates but the way they connected and were vulnerable with one another was not like anything he’d ever had. Then all their subsequent conversations and things they’d revealed about themselves? No. He wasn’t done and she wasn’t either. He felt it deep down that she wanted him to prove to her that he was serious.

Kissing that woman had been a mistake. And now he was going to prove to her that he was serious. That they could work.

. . .

She didn’t know why she told him where she was going to be on her date. She didn’t need to tell him. He could wait to see her until after. She told him as much at first when he called her the moment he landed.

“Where will you be with your date?” He spoke saying the word date like a dirty word.

“Harry… why do you need that information?”

“Because I’m just curious. Maybe I’m looking for restaurant suggestions.”

“I’m sure,” she rolled her eyes to herself, “If I tell you, you better not show up and ruin everything. I kind of like this guy, Harry.”

Harry’s heart fell into his stomach and the smirk on his face faded at that. She liked the guy? She was supposed to only like him.

“I won’t ruin anything. I promise.” He couldn’t actually make that promise. He wouldn’t be held accountable for the methods he used to convince her she was his. That she wanted to be with him only.

. . .

The steak house was a typical small-town restaurant that looked cutesy and had a few things on the outside of the building to let you know it was a restaurant but still came off as more of something that looked like a house.

The inside wasn’t much different. The entry into the restaurant started at the bar. Round high-top tables and tall stools scattered along the middle with dining tables with chairs of normal height lined the wall to the right. The bar with various bottles of neatly arranged, half-empty bottles of liquor along the left. Old wood floors, crown molding, high ceilings, an old dusty scent mixed with the smell of stale spilled beer (that smell just doesn’t come out after years of clumsy customers insisting on spilling their ales every night for the past 35 years), food cooking, and meat searing. Beyond the bar was the main dining room with more tables placed around the space and large windows that looked out onto a sizeable terrace with more tables under a large awning.

Harry let his gaze move around the room and walking past the bar he peeked into the main dining room to see if he could spot the woman of his dreams.

“Harry Styles!” A young lady shrieked and as he turned back he saw two other women walking toward him. He knew the look. They were starstruck and hoping for a chance to speak to him and get a photo.

Reluctantly he obliged. Signed a napkin, took a few pictures, and shook their hands with a smile on his face. It tended to be better to just be nice and give them something quickly instead of declining. Sometimes declining or saying he couldn’t resulted in more issues than it was worth.

Not spotting Y/n anywhere either inside or outside he asked the young man stood at the front if there was a reservation under Y/n’s name. He expected that her date would have put it under his name but on the off chance-

“Yes sir. Uh, that reservation for 2 people isn’t for another fifteen minutes. Are you the other party on the reservation?”

Harry grinned and nodded, “Why yes. I am.”

He followed behind the kid to a spot outside on the terrace and ordered a bottle of red wine. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drink the whole thing but figured that once Y/n arrived with her date they could finish it off. He knew that what he was doing was taking it a little too far (maybe a lot too far) but he wanted to properly greet her and get a good look at this date. He’d get up and let them take their seats and then he’d pay the bill of course as an apology for the inconvenience.

Before he’d finished his glass of wine his sight landed on the entry to the terrace where Y/n, a tall man with dark hair (presumably her date), and the young host who seated Harry were walking toward him. There she was. She’d really dressed up too. The low plunge of her dress and the way it hit her hips were mouthwatering. He stood up quickly as he continued to watch her in awe. Her pretty face was set in an unamused frown, “What are you doing Harry?”

Shrugging his shoulders he looked to the guy next to her. He was Harry’s height. Taller even. Annoyingly good-looking in an older, sophisticated yet unbothered kind of way, “I’m Harry,” he jutted his hand out to shake.

The date looked at Y/n and then back to Harry with his hand taking Harry’s in a firm shake, “Yeah, I know who you are. Harry Styles… But why are you sitting at our table?” He asked with a laugh. So she hadn’t told her date about him. Pity.

“Oh, I was just having a sit, drinking a little wine. But I’ll be on my way. Just wanted to make sure my lovely friend here made it safely. Oh! And please! Enjoy the rest of the wine. And I’ve already told them that the tab is on me. So get whatever you like. Go wild.”

The look of anger on Y/n’s face should have deterred Harry from speaking further, but he couldn’t help himself, “And you look… wow. Incredible. You’re stunning, Y/n,” he looked over her frame and then back to her face, “I’ll call you later,” he winked as he turned and sauntered away just as casually as he had mentioned he was paying their bill. As if it were all just a normal occurrence.

Y/n watched the handsome pop star walk away before turning to Dante, “Sorry about that. He was just trying to be funny. Just a friend,” she reassured.

Though, Dante didn’t seem wary of him at all. He was clueless as to what had just happened, “You know Harry Styles?!”

Sitting down and pushing Harry’s nearly empty glass of cabernet to the edge of the table she nodded, “Yeah. Met him a couple of months ago when he was in Chicago for a concert, and I was there for an art show. Just luck.”

She left out the part where he had her in his posh hotel suite one evening and they spent the whole night fucking and talking and laughing. Connecting. And then again in the morning until she had to leave.

Y/n wasn’t sure how to feel about Harry’s little stunt. He seemed like such a genuinely sweet guy that what had just happened felt a little out of character. Though she got some glimpses of his pushy, dominant side in bed, she hadn’t seen any of that persona transfer outside of the bedroom. Not when he first introduced himself, and not in any of their conversations on the phone… But she guessed perhaps there was a part of him that would come out in this way. And she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy it all deep down.

But still. The nerve of him to sit at the table she and her date would be sharing and drink wine while he waited for them. To look at her the way he had, his eyes blatantly following her shape down to her hips and back up again with that grin… The compliment. And then to have their bill paid for? It was a power move. He was trying to assert dominance over Dante in some way. Even though Dante was annoyingly clueless somehow. She thought for sure he’d be livid about it but he wasn’t.

Dante was a little too nice she decided.

And it’s not like Y/n thought her date should be upset. She didn’t want two men fighting over her or anything. But the part of her that kind of liked what Harry had done, liked that he was trying to stake a claim or send a message- wanted to see what Dante had in him. Wanted maybe just a tiny bit to see him jealous or even insist on paying despite the fact that Harry said he would. Dante didn’t seem threatened at all. She shook her head of those thoughts. How silly for Y/n to even think that he should feel that way. Of course not!

And she couldn’t stop thinking about how good he looked in his suit and his thick dark hair with soft curls as she and her date neared the table he was casually sitting at. The handsome smug look on his face as he watched them. And she tried to refocus and listen as Dante was talking about his recent gallery show but she was now stuck thinking about the night she and the famous man shared together. That was probably part of what he intended as well, showing up like he did. To set the tone for the entire date. He knew what he was doing. And it had worked.

“Excuse me. I need to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

She took a deep breath as she walked into the restaurant and followed the hanging wooden signs that pointed toward the little hallway where the two bathrooms were. A single toilet room each for women and men.

Flicking the light on and clicking the lock she leaned into the door and closed her eyes. She had to give herself a pep talk.

“You’re here with a perfectly nice and handsome man. Same interests, a level head, funny, humble…” and Dante was all those things. But something was missing. Something was holding her back from truly enjoying his company. And she knew just what it was. It was because he wasn’t Harry. And even if Harry hadn’t made his surprise appearance to discombobulate her completely, interrupting her date, she would have still felt the same.

Just as she pushed herself off the door there was a knock, “Sorry! Be right out!”

Y/n washed her hands and dried them before opening the door. But in a shocking split-second, she was met with the handsome smile of the man she couldn’t stop thinking about as he walked into the bathroom, causing her to step herself backward. Harry closed the door and clicked the lock.

“Harry! What are you doing?!”

Harry smirked and leaned his back into the door, “How’s the date going?”

Crossing her arms over her chest she tried to feign annoyance but she was working hard to hide her own grin, “It’s fine. I like Dante. Why are you still here?”

“I figured I’d see if you were free after. I brought some things with me that I think you might enjoy.”

She paused. He brought some things? What did that mean?

“I can’t believe I told you where my date was,” she shook her head and sighed.

“I’m sure you did it because you hoped for this very outcome.”

“Oh come on, Harry. I actually didn’t think you’d even come here this weekend, to be honest.”

Harry stitched his brows together and pushed himself off the door, taking two long-legged strides toward her, and brought his hands up to her face, “Well I am here. And I want you, Y/n. I don’t care that you’re on a fucking date. That should be me sitting out there getting to take you out,” he jabbed a finger in the air toward the door before returning his palm to her cheek.

Her blood pumped quickly through her veins and her head felt fluttery and light as she watched his mouth and then looked at his eyes as he spoke. His hair was fluffy and soft and his hands on her face felt gentle but she knew what they could do. All the very opposite things of gentle that had awakened some kind of indulgent new requirement. She wanted to put up a good fight. Make him work harder. Make him beg a little even. He’d kissed another woman! For god’s sake, she should make him grovel. But he was there. With her. Looking at her like he did that last morning they were together when they were making plans to keep contact until they could see one another again.

She didn’t know how to respond. If she were responding candidly, she’d tell him that yeah, it should be him out there treating her to dinner and not Dante. That she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind and last night, even though she had this date lined up, it was Harry’s image that she orgasmed to when she masturbated. In fact, it had only been Harry she got off to since she’d had that night with him nearly two months ago.

Harry tilted his head and spoke softly, “Please, Y/n. Do you want me to get on my knees? Beg? Or,” a small devious smirk quirked up on his lips as he licked them and ducked in to speak into her ear, his body pressed into hers, “maybe you want this. You like the chase, don’t you? Is that what you want? Trying to play hardball with me, sweet girl?”

She was a goner the moment his lips brushed over the shell of her ear and he brought his hands down from her face to her hips and pulled her in close. A small warm peck to her lobe, “What is it that you want me to do? I’ll do it.”

Y/n drew her hands up his back to his broad shoulders and moaned as she stretched her neck for him, “You shouldn’t be here. I’m in the middle of a date.”

And despite her words, Harry seemed to figure out what it was she needed and he dragged his mouth down to her jaw and then attached his lips to her neck and lightly peppered kisses and warm licks down the sensitive skin until he lowered enough that he’d made it to her clavicle, drawing a needy little gasp from her lips.

He backed away to look down at her and she had her lips parted and eyes closed, which made him smile.

She was his.

“And this dress,” he smoothed his hands down from her hips to the bottom hem of the material that landed just above her knee. He pulled the fabric upward, his warm fingers sliding up and under the stretchy cloth until he met her inner thighs, squeezed together, “Why did you do this? Wearing this for him? Baby this dress should only be for me.”

Her breaths deepened and her body grew hot with his hands on her. This was such a bad idea but she didn’t have it in her to stop him. She wanted him. When she opened her eyes and looked at Harry she licked her lips before speaking, “I hoped you’d see it. But I didn’t really think you’d come.”

Harry’s palms splayed against her thighs and continued to push the material up as he smiled at her with a cocky grin, “Wanted me to see it. So you wanted me to be jealous. To see you wearing this slutty thing on a date with another man while I watched. Suppose I deserve that. But you know you’re leaving here with me. Yeah? That’s what you wanted. Gonna show you what you deserve for teasing like this.”

Y/n let out a small whimper when he pushed her legs apart and kept his eyes on hers. His light green eyes were slowly disappearing under his dark pupils. His lids were droopy, and his lips parted as he finally moved his face to hers and nudged at her nose with his before putting her out of her misery and kissing her in a hot, desperate embrace.

She tried to resist but she’d already been a goner and the way he kissed her melted her senses and stamped out her resolve.

She was his.

Harry’s hands continued their path upward and she knew what he was doing, as far gone and mushy as her brain was, she understood his intentions. So she parted her thighs more for his access and Harry panted against her lips, “You want me to touch? Need a little something before you go back out there on your date?”

She nodded after faltering for a second. Her date… She wasn’t sure she could face him after this. She only knew she wanted Harry.

He pushed his fingers over her silky panties and grinned as he continued kissing her, her back pressed into the wall, “Fuck, baby girl. You need Daddy don’t you?”

She groaned and popped her eyes open, nodding the tiniest bit as she watched him use his hand on her, rubbing over her cloth-covered clit. Harry hissed and looked at her with sultry eyes, “Soaked for me, baby. You don’t want to go back out there to him. You need to be taken care of. Can you wait til we get back to your place or do you need it now?”

Harry was serious. He was going to leave with Y/n. Dante would be fine. His check was covered after all.

Y/n let out a shaky breath. Here or at hers? Her place was half an hour away and she was already vibrating with desire. Harry’s words and soft touches and his presence somehow pulled from her a need that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. One that she was certain Dante couldn’t affect.

“This is crazy,” she breathed out.

Harry pushed his mouth to hers and moved his fingers down to the drenched crotch of her panties pushing them to the side and he keened at the feel of how slick she was under the pads of his fingers.

“Remember how good it was, Y/n? How you moaned and came over and over again? The way you took me when I fucked you.”

Harry was hard as rock in his trousers. This woman was doing things to him. He hadn’t been so determined about anyone in a very long time.

“Yes,” she whispered when he stroked up and down through her labia and then pressed into the hood of her clit.

“And how good we are together. We work, Y/n. This works. I know you know it.”

He plunged two fingers inside as he kissed her mouth. She opened her legs further for him and rocked her hips forward into his hand.

Y/n realized suddenly where they were and what they were doing when a knock sounded on the door, “Let’s go. I need to tell Dante that I’m leaving first.”

Harry was directed to stay outside at the front of the restaurant while Y/n went to the terrace and broke the news to Dante. She felt awful. She really did. Dante was nice. He was attractive. But he wasn’t her type in the end and she was slick between her thighs as she sat down and winced at the feel. The empty ache. She was flushed and her panties were chilled against her skin where it was wet, a result of just having been fingered in the bathroom. But her body was guiding her. She was aching and wanted Harry in her bedroom. Wanted Harry inside of her again.

It was probably a mistake. She’d probably regret this but she only knew one thing. And that was that Dante would never have a chance. Not when she was fantasizing about Harry on a date with him. That wasn’t fair to him, to string him along. So she justified that it was better this way.

. . .

Y/n had fully expected that Harry would have a driver or something. But to her surprise, he rented a car. A really nice car. A Mercedes Benz wagon.

She did kind of wish he had a driver, though, so they could sit in the back and that there was one of those partitions that separated them from view. But as it was, she was sitting in the passenger side as Harry drove her to her house.

It was kind of wild to her that Harry Styles was driving her to her house and that once there, in her small residential bungalow, they’d probably wind up having sex. Certainly, they’d wind up having sex.

“I’m sorry I did it this way,” Harry paused with a smirk on his face, “but not that sorry. Worked out in my favor.”

Y/n breathed out a laugh and shook her head, “Yeah, I guess you got your way. I imagine you’re used to that.”

“Heey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“It just means you’re probably not used to not getting exactly what you want.”

Harry nodded shallowly as he kept his eyes on the road in silence. He was just happy it had worked. He wasn’t sure it would. And yes, he was used to getting what he wanted but he didn’t expect to get everything he wanted. Not all the time anyway.

“My place is pretty small. Two bedrooms. One bathroom. A small backyard. So don’t judge, okay?” She was mostly teasing, feeling quite nervous about what was soon to happen. The state of her home was actually the last thing on her mind.

“Don’t be nervous, love. We’re going to have a great time together.”

Y/n gulped the saliva in her throat and looked ahead toward the road. She knew they’d have a great time together if their last time together was any indicator. In fact, she imagined it might be even better. He was visiting for three days and she had nothing to do other than finish the canvas she’d been working on for the past week. So they’d have a lot of time. To explore and to play. To talk.

She recalled a conversation they had one night over the phone when Harry brought up her pretty, plump bottom, his words still making her blush having never enjoyed anyone calling her plump in any way. But somehow, when Harry said it, it felt sexy. He made her feel sexy. Her curves and her extra bits, her tummy and ass and arms and thighs… they only spent the one night together but he made her feel as if all of her was beautiful.

“Such a pretty, plump bottom like yours… and you’ve never had anal sex before, or anything? My finger was the first to poke inside?” He spoke his words with a smile.

She was already lying down in bed and gently rubbing herself to the sound of his voice and he’d been heavily flirting and suggesting what they’d do together the next time they saw one another.

“No. Have never done anything back there,” she laughed breathily.

“We can change that. I can start by licking your pussy and your ass until you’re so wet and creamy that I can just slip my finger inside your little hole and get you ready for more.”

She moaned lightly at the idea.

He continued, “And once you’re shaking and begging to come I’ll slowly fill you up with my cock so you can finally experience what it’s like.”

Y/n laughed and paused her fingers, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Harry groaned and panted (he was also touching himself), “Oh I would be in heaven to have you any way you wanted. But to be able to be your first experience with that would be amazing. But the question is, Y/n, would you like that?”

She squirmed in the soft black leather seats just thinking about it. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to go that route or not but she figured if he got her loosened up and drippy she probably would very much want that. She felt like he’d make it good. She knew he’d make it good.

Harry noticed the way she shifted and wondered if she was still on edge. He imagined her panties were a mess after what happened in the bathroom. He would have loved to have fucked her then and there but she asked to leave. And he could wait a little longer, though his cock was aching and pushing against the front of his trousers painfully.

Y/n was trying not to eye his crotch. He clearly had an erection. Still. And she knew he was nice and thick and long. Just remembering the way he looked had her thighs clenching together. Yes, she was still very wet in her panties, and knowing that soon he’d be using that thing on her gave her an idea.

She reached her hand over and put her palm on his upper thigh over his pants and Harry quickly glanced down before putting his eyes back on the road. He swallowed thickly. He liked where this was going.

“Gonna help me out a little?”

Y/n smirked and looked up at him as she unbuckled her seatbelt, “Do you want me to?”

Harry scoffed and shot his eyes at her quickly, “Is that a serious question?”

Biting her lip she positioned herself to lean over the leather console and began to undo the leather belt he had on. Harry adjusted his seating and pressed the seat back button to lean back a little to give her more room as she unbuttoned his pants. He parted his lips and let out a labored breath when he felt her palm over him.

He was so warm under her hand, even with the material of his pants covering him. She continued working on opening his pants up when the seatbelt warning dinged.

Harry groaned and rolled his eyes but she continued, not worried at all about the sound. She wanted to pull him out and play with him a little bit.

The road to her house from the restaurant was mostly along a small highway with no stoplights and very little traffic. Which she liked so she could have him out in her hand and no one would pull up next to them and catch a glimpse of what they were doing. Not to mention it was Harry Styles in the car, that would surely get some attention.

When she finally dragged his underwear down enough that she could grasp around him he moaned softly. She loved how he felt in her hand, the way he looked. She pulled from the base of his shaft upward, rolling his foreskin over his frenulum and back down. He was hard and his tip was pink and pretty like his lips.

The ding of the seatbelt warning chimed again as she leaned further over and moved her lips to right above his erect cock. Harry moved his arm away to give her space, before putting his hand on the back of her head. Her hair fell over the exposed skin at the base of his cock before he felt her lick gently over his slit and stroked him slowly as Harry drove down the road toward her home.

It was difficult to put him into her mouth with the console in between them but she had been able to put his tip in past her lips and lick all around him, lapping at his precome as she continued moving her hand in gentle strokes at his shaft.

Harry was panting shallowly and his stomach muscles were contracting. It felt so good to have her mouth and her hand on him. He wished he could look down to see her sucking him off but he had to keep an eye on the road, and with her seatbelt undone (thanks to the reminder every two minutes from the warning chime) he didn’t want to chance anything.

Y/n moaned around his slit and Harry choked out his words, “Fuck, baby. We’re almost there. Gonna give it to you so good when we get to your place.”

And she knew he would too. She wasn’t very experienced. She’d slept with two men before she got married but of all the men who’d fucked her, Harry was far and away the best at it.

Harry pulled into her small driveway, directly behind her Toyota Camry. Tucking himself back into his pants as she adjusted her dress before getting out of his car and plucking her keys from her purse.

“Did he pick you up here at your house?” He pointed toward her car in the driveway. He deduced that if her vehicle was there the date must have come to her home to pick her up.

Y/n paused and it took her a moment to understand what he meant but the realization dawned on her, “Yes. He did.”

Harry nodded, “So he knows where you live? Did you invite him in?”

Sighing she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Was he really doing this now? “Yes. He came in, stood in the doorway, and looked around while I grabbed my purse. That was it.”

Harry was standing over her with a small frown, “Were you planning on sleeping with him? After the dinner?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. What is this, Harry?” She pulled her arms upward before dropping them at her sides in frustration, the keys to her house jangling as she did so.

Putting his hands on her upper arms he slowly rubbed upward, “This is just me wondering what you were up to is all. It’s a good thing I got there in time to stop anything from happening.”

A scoff fell from her lips as she looked up at him, stunned, “No. This is you being jealous.”

Harry shook his head with a cocky grin and brought his left hand up to her neck and pulled her into his chest, “I’d be jealous if you left with him. But he’s nowhere to be seen now is he?”

She felt the small squeeze on her neck as he pushed her bottom gently to the front of his car, his hips connected to hers so she could feel him, “S’just you and me here, though. Isn’t it? You’re wet for me. Not for him,” his soft, warm mouth was suddenly pasted over her jaw and she gasped. It was hard for her head to fight its way out of the labyrinth of mush that he seemed to be so good at leading her into. But he knew that. He loved the way she responded to him.

Harry chuckled, his laugh vibrating off her neck as he tenderly kissed the edge of her parted lips before backing away and grasping her hand to pull her to her front door, “Let’s get inside then. Can’t fuck you out here on the hood of the car for all to see can I?”

Everything was rushed and desperate in her brain. She was shaky putting her key into her door to unlock with Harry right behind her, his hands at her hips, his lips on her neck.

The moment the door was closed and locked Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. It was hot and frantic. They were both on edge and very much in need of release. Together. Even though he acted as if he had it totally together and he was in charge, he was feeling desperate too with the way his tip was leaky and his cock throbbed in his pants.

“It’s this way,” she panted breathlessly as she pulled his hand to bring him toward her bedroom.

But Harry paused when he saw a large, framed photo hung on the wall. It was of Y/n with a man. Kissing a man. She was wearing a beautiful wedding dress and the man was in a tuxedo with the backdrop of a lovely garden and flowers all around.

“Is… this you?”

Y/n was halted when she whipped her head to look at what he’d seen. She realized instantly what he meant.

“Um. Yes.”

“Are you… married?”

Y/n sighed and let go of Harry’s hand.

Talk about a mood killer.

Chapter 3

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merowkittie · 10 months

Text

Art Therapist!Reader x Task Force 141

Summary: Today we’ll get to look at the first client, John Price.

Notes: I should comment that I’m not sure if I want this to go in a platonic route or a romantic way so we’ll see from here. Might make the readers decide. <3

I hope i capture all of the boys good, because I’m still fairly new writing for the cod men.. sorry if they’re very ooc </3

Oh boy.. writing this took a minute and I’m so not impressed with this one but trust.. this will get better :)

Do reblog, like, and comment to lmk what you think about this!

Thank you, sweets! 🎀

Part One. Client One: John Price.

The clack of your heels were heard through the halls as you smiled brightly, excited to get to know one of your new clients.

You had two sheets on a clipboard in your arms, a notepad in the other and a tote bag in your left arm.

You had some things you’d like to discuss with him, comforts, favorite snacks and tea. These are important you know! You always got the jitters when you had a new client.

Walking into your small office you sat your bag down on the side of your chair, and placed the clipboard and notepad neatly on your desk.

A sigh left your mouth and you rolled your neck around, trying to crack it and find relief.

“Mm.. ok, where to start..?” You mumbled to yourself as you looked at your bag and nodded.

Starting to unload everything you put your thermal cup filled with peppermint tea on your desk, a sketchbook, coloring book, and coloring pencils neatly into a pile.

Next you pressed the button on your work phone to hear all of your new voice mails and put lights on, in the dimly lit room.

You had two lamps that brightened the room with a nice yellow hue and a flower lamp on your desk that shined a pink light.

“Ms. Kate left a voice message, it says, ‘Good morning, you said 9:30 but we’ll be there a bit earlier than that. He’s adamant about being early to things. John is a very— He’s a man that likes to stay on the move you know? Keep that in mind. He likes his hands full. Anyways, see you around 9:20– 25. Thank you, Again.’ —”

You laughed at her comment, knowing well you like to have your hands full too and can’t stay doing nothing for too long.

The time on your clock stated 9:15, so they’d be here soon. There wasn’t much else you needed to set up in your cozy office but you decided to fluff out the pillows on the couch across from your desk and prep your notes.

Finally, after you killed some time drawing in your sketchbook you heard a knock on your door. There was quiet chatter.

“Come in please!” You called out, closing your sketchbook and looking up towards the door.

In walked in who you assumed was Kate Laswell and behind her was a handsome gruff looking man. He was very well built, a nice beard and mustache and he looked around the same age as the woman. He also had a nice ass but you shook your head away from those thoughts.

Standing up your walked around your desk and grinned widely, you stated your name and then, “It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you. I’m very excited for todays session if you couldn’t tell..”

“Nothing wrong with that. I’m hoping this goes smoothly.” The man, who you’re sure is John, smiles at you and nods approvingly.

“Yes, you won’t give her a hard time right?” Kate jokes and he shakes his head and raises his eyebrows.

“She should be worried about Soap. That man is a twat sometimes.” You chuckled along with him and waved your hand dismissing that.

You pointed to the couch and asked them to have a seat so you could talk to them about basics first and grabbed your notepad and a pen, sitting in your chair.

“Before we start, I want to re-introduce myself. My name is y/n, and I’ve been doing art therapy for three years. I have a degree in arts and a degree in counseling/therapy.” You waved your hands around as you talked.

Kate and John nodded at your words as you spoke and they seemed pretty impressed with what you said.

“Kate Laswell, John Price. It’s nice to meet someone enthusiastic like you.”

You smiled at the comment and then let the two settle in on the couch. Tapping your fingers in your desk you spoke again.

“Ok so, I’m sure you may have questions that you wanted to ask personally! Some worries and concerns?” You tilted your head to the side and smiled, “Or would you like me to give you a brief explanation on what I strive to achieve with art therapy?”

“It’s be nice if you explained it better.. I feel like this is too childish for a man like me.” John commented.

“Mhm, I understand what you mean. A lot of people believe that but it’s all about what works for YOU. Art is a form of expression that anyone can use. Why not incorporate that into helping others and finding yourself too, Hm?” You aided.

It was a bit silent in the room after what you said. John nodded his head, his arms crossed over his chest and pursed his lips, turning to face Kate.

“I like you. Hopefully the boys will too. God knows we need this type of energy with the line of work we’re involved in.” Kate sighs, “I’ll take my leave, and be back around.. 10:30?”

“Yes! 10:30 or you can come around 10:25. Either works for me, If it works for you,” You got up and extended your hand, “Thank you, by the way. I live my life as optimistic as possible and like to bring that into the workplace.”

Kate nods and shakes your hand. Her hold is firm and strong, she’s a kind woman.

“John, play nice.” She said, facing the older man, before leaving and giving you a smile.

After she left you looked at Price and clapped your hands together.

“Well, now I have some personal questions for you. These are about boundaries but I hope you do know we might have to cross them once in a while ok?” You sat on top of your desk this time moving your notepad and pen onto your lap.

John folded his hands on his lap and looked at you in your eyes. It was silent for a moment yet again, though you didn’t mind. If he needed time to formulate his words you’d give him all the time in the world.

He opened his mouth then closed it, with a huff he said, “There’s not many boundaries I have, I’m sure you’re supposed to start slow when doing these sessions, yea?” you nodded, “So I believe you won’t be asking too much about me yet, so when the time comes.. I’ll be somewhat of an open book.”

He smiled at you slightly, tight lipped and tapped his fingers against his knuckles.

You took a breath in, then let it out. Humming at his words you write down on your note pad:

‘Price. Little to no boundaries at all. Open book maybe by the third sesh.’

His eyes watch your fingers as you’re writing, he’s a bit tense, not really knowing what to do. He can already imagine Simon being worse than he is right now.

“Ok so! I do have a question that Ms.Kate didn’t really specify, and I forgot to ask. Is there a problem that’s bugging any of you? Or is this just to maintain a good mind set— or close to an ok mind set?” You put your hands out, trying to elaborate in a more understanding way, “For example, keeping your anger in check, having an outlet to let out heavy emotional burdens.. those types of things?”

John ran his fingers through his beard and tapped his foot on the ground, thinking on what you said. He didn’t exactly have any thing bugging him, he’s been working in the military for well around 18+ years and that’ll get you used to the atrocities you see.

“I’m pretty sure Kate had the latter in mind when doing these sessions. I know I don’t have much bugging me, I’m about ready to retire sometimes,” he joked with a laugh, “It’d be nice to have an outlet from what we do every now and then.”

You laughed with him and nodded your head. His words resonated well with you. Anyone knew that working in the military/army would drain you. Could leave you mentally unwell after years.

So you strived to understand and learn each and every one of these men. To hopefully be able to aid them in different, helpful ways.

“Well, im glad you think so! Now, I actually have something I want you to do today. It’s very simple.”

Pulling out a coloring book and some color pencils, you held them out in front of you, “So, we won’t be doing anything too big— yet! I have a coloring book here that goes based off of mood. It’s also a journal. I want you to write in this everyday, starting today, ok?”

John raised his brows at you and you raised yours back. He scratched his beard and looked down at the coloring book with different mood faces on it. He took a copy of one book and a pack of coloring pencils you offered after.

You opened up the book to the first page and pointed to the happy face. Underneath the face were lines and a quote that asks you why you were feeling the emotion you were feeling.

“Currently I’m feeling happy, I’ll take a yellow pencil and color that face in.” You explained simply, “I’m feeling this way because I’ve had my favorite tea, my cat cuddled with me this morning, and I’m looking forward to my new clients.”

Once you finished you turned the book around and showed John. “That’s all you have to do. Nothing too long, but if you prefer to do that I don’t mind. Just don’t give me a word or two. I want one to three sentences.”

You watched as he began to do what you did. He colored in the neutral face with a brown colored pencil and underneath he wrote two sentences explaining why he felt that way.

For the rest of your session you introduced yourself more and had him give you tid bits about his life and line of work. In your mind you wanted to have this space be as personal but comfortable as possible.

You talked a bit about your life as well, giving him insight into your day to day life and how your other sessions go sometimes without disclosing private information about your other clients.

Soon enough the time came to when he had to leave and your session ended.

As Kate waited by the door, you put your hand out towards John, “I hope to see that book filled out. If anything is bothering you after today, write it down and we can go over it, yea?” He nodded his head shaking your hand, and let out a gruff ‘yes’.

He left with that and you were alone in your office thinking over this mornings events. It was slow paced and simple. You didn’t like unpacking a lot of information on the first day. Over time they’d get more comfortable and the art part of this would help them express how they felt without speaking. Actions are always far bigger than words.

You cracked your knuckles and went back to your chair, looking through your schedule planner, tomorrow you’d have a man by the name of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

Huh, what a name.

Tag list: @speckledemerald @mxtokko

If you want to be notified when more parts of this series comes out please lmk and I will add you to the tag list <3

#reader insert #black reader #cod mw fanfiction #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 price #john price x black reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price #cod mw art therapy au ୨୧

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keikakudom · 6 months

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I'm invested with your RR AU!! Love their designs!!

I have a question regarding Charlie. We know that she doesn't trust Vox fully but does she think she can still redeem Vox? Does Charlie push Vox to try her therapy sessions or she's just neutral with him and lets him do whatever he wants?

Oh, this is such a fun question! Thank you for the kind words and asking this question!

Of course - Charlie still thinks everybody can be redeemed, with enough elbow grease. Her faithful, if not banal, hotelier with asshole tendencies is no exception!

She knows Vox has no interest in redemption, isn't required to do anything aside from his resort/hotel duties, and is usually very busy, so Charlie tries not to push too much and annoy him....but. She does ask him every now and then on very important activities that she tried her very best on designing. Not to mention it would just be very helpful for Charlie's study in redemption to know the opinion(and unravel the psyche) of the super-duper powerful and evil overlord she works alongside at her disposal!

Aaaanyway. Most of the time, Vox declines. He has better things to do and wants to stay in Hell, after all.

(Unless Charlie makes a face like this. Because c'mon it's Vox, even he surely can't be that cruel!! /j)

But if he's having a shitty day, doesn't want to deal with the bajillion urgent tasks that need his attention, and the conditions are just right....he might agree. Once in a blue moon. Vox says he's there just to "supervise" the process, because he needs to make sure there's actually progress being done on his "product". Redemption exercise or not, sometimes he likes to tag along as a de-stressor, even if he doesn't participate himself.

Additionally, Vox in general has a hard time saying 'no' to Charlie. The success of his great plan rides on winning Charlie's trust and favor. Very people-pleaser of him.

And, because apparently I can't go a post related to this AU without mentioning them:

Vox isn't really able to "do whatever he wants" because he wants to be in Charlie's good graces. This results in him being very sus and overall fake as hell around Charlie/in general, always covering up what he might be working on at the moment. When I mean Vox took over all the managerial aspects of the resort-- I mean it. It's totally hands-off for Charlie, and in many ways, she's ignorant to what sinister things might be happening in her very resort. Welp. And by "sinister things", I mean the Vees. Yes, they're involved in supporting the resort too! In a very underground way. Cordyceps....

#au: reset resort #ask #anon

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exhuastedpigeon · 7 days

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞

This is so fun!! Thanks for sending it to me! I went with favourite fics I've written in the last year because I've written over 150 fics & I can't pick all time favs, that's too hard.

loves a game, wanna play? This is maybe my fav fic I've ever written. It was so fun to write and posting it daily and reading all the comments as I posted was the most fun I've had in this fandom. Buddie | Mature | 57k

Buck Confessional - Day 1 “Why am I really here? I mean free vacation right? And Eddie - he needed a distraction this summer. He went through some shit last month and I think getting away from L.A. for a bit will be good for him. I couldn’t just send him on his own, what kind of friend would do that. Oh, why did I pick Maya? She seemed really cool. Eddie Confessional - Day 1 “I mean, I really miss my kid. I think that’ll be the hardest part of being here. When Buck suggested it I said no at first, but he convinced me some time out of L.A. would be good. I think he’s right. I just had - well I guess it’s a confessional so I’ll tell you. I just had a really messy breakup, my fault, and my therapist suggested I try new things. Reality TV is obviously new. God why do I feel like I need to ask what my penance is?” or In the aftermath of Chris leaving for the summer, Buck convinces Eddie they should apply for Love Island together.

give your heart and soul to charity Did I channel a lot of my own religious trauma and healing into this fic? Maybe so. Buddie | Teen | 12.5k

“It’s been a while since you asked for an emergency session,” Frank says, voice even as always. “Can I ask what brought this on?” “I think I just dumped god,” Eddie says and then he bursts out laughing. He can’t control it, he knows he sounds manic, like he’s somewhere between laughter and a breakdown, edging closer to the breakdown. “Holy shit I did dump god.” “I’m going to need just a little more than that,” Frank says and his face looks torn between concern and amusement. or Eddie dumps God, gets some more therapy, accepts parts of himself he was taught to hate, loves his best friend, and loves himself.

lay your cards down, down, down In March I had a minor breakdown and wrote three fics about different version of Chimney's bachelor party. This one is my favourite. Buddie | Teen | 6.3k

Buck and Eddie get drunk at Chim's bachelor party and wake up married.

there ain't no turning back Buddie | Explicit | 28k

Eddie let out a yelp when he finally took in the room. It was a two queen room, white blankets, a TV, a desk and chair near the window, nothing about the furniture was strange, except for the fact that Buck was lounging on the bed closest to the windows, his legs crossed at the ankles, feet clad in MIT socks that he’d gotten for himself the day Chris sent his application in because Buck was that confident he’d get in. “You made good time,” Buck said with a grin, his eyes bright as he looked at Eddie. “You’re here? How are you here?” Eddie felt like crying as he toed off his shoes and walked over to Buck. Or The Buddie healing roadtrip no one asked for

it hurts to hope for more This fic is so personal and important to me. Content warning for discussions of abortion. Buddie | Mature | 15.5k

“I’m never - I’m never going to be a dad,” Buck sobs into Eddie’s shoulder. “She didn’t want kids. Why do I keep dating people who don’t want the same things as me? Is- is the universe telling me that I don’t deserve it?” “Hey, no,” Eddie pulls back from the hug and Buck lets out a pitiful sound at the loss of contact. “The universe doesn’t do that. The universe doesn’t scream and it definitely doesn’t get to tell you what you deserve, because you deserve everything Buck. Everything.” or Buck wants to be a dad, it takes a couple break-ups and a major non-romantic heartbreak for him to figure out that maybe he already is.

#asked and answered #my fics #buddie #buddie fics

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thatfilthyanimal · 8 months

Text

tw: stalking, grooming, pedophilia, sexual abuse, past suicidal thoughts

I've recently been made aware that Dupsy is still talking about me and is now going to random Megamind fans that don't know me and telling them to avoid me. I'm also aware that they're doing this in the Ruby Gillman fandom. I have no words to really describe the level of discomfort this brings me, but I will attempt.

First of all, all the "grooming" allegations were thoroughly debunked and proven to be bullshit. I can't believe I have to even say this. I'm a victim of grooming and sexual abuse myself. It's extremely traumatic and life-altering shit, and never something I would want to inflict on someone else. I feel like it should be obvious, with the measures I took in the server to ensure no child is exposed to such things. I was recently diagnosed with PTSD due to the shit that happened to me when I was growing up, and between processing that in therapy sessions and stomaching transitioning in a near-constant hostile-to-trans-people online social media hellscape, I am tired.

I love Megamind, more than anything, and this is known and obvious to anyone who's met me. This movie saved my life when I was extremely suicidal and planning to end my life back in 2010. Watching the movie when I did gave me something to focus on, a distraction, and a responsibility as a fandom member that helped distract me long enough to get out of the planning mindset I was in. Had I not seen the movie, I do not think I would have stuck around. I will leave it at that.

And moderating fandom spaces for Megamind has been lovely! I adore this fandom. The people in it are extremely talented and sweet, and just so damn nice, like by default. I say this all the time but I've never experienced another fandom space quite like it. There are usually bad eggs in fandoms, and perhaps -I- am said "bad egg" to some, but genuinely this one is special. I have always felt that way, even when the bad eggs show up and make a stink. It has always felt worth being here for, to me.

And while I hate to give Dupsy the satisfaction of knowing they hurt me, I need to be honest-- it's been rough. I stopped talking in my server, I locked up on most of my friends and stopped talking even in DMs. I still struggle with severe anxiety in the server and have talked to Dal on various occasions about transferring the server ownership to him. He's been very patient with my freakouts and super understanding, but it's still hard. This WAS a place I felt safe, for over ten years! And now it feels like any minor can just say I'm a groomer or a pedo or whatever with ZERO consequences, just because they're mad, just because these are words that make people go "oh shit" and listen, and man! It's not ok! And this coupled with the fact that trans people are often called groomers just for existing, just… man! I'm tired. I'm so tired.

There are real, severe, damaging effects to these claims being thrown around so casually. It's hurtful to me, as a victim of sexual abuse, because when I came forward to people about what happened when -I- was a minor, I was told I "wanted it" and "asked for it". It was made to be my fault that I was abused, and I internalized it for years. It nearly killed me. I cannot stress enough how important it is to not use claims like pedophilia and grooming so lightly-- these are VERY damning terms to use on people and should be reserved for people ACTUALLY HARMING OTHERS. Being mad I banned you from the server is not "abuse" and using my Customer Service Voice to be nice to you and then being obviously tired of you when you were banned is not "emotional grooming". What the actual fuck. ALSO. This was well over a year ago! Why am I still having to post about this? Why are you still TALKING about me? And yet again I ask, where the HELL are your parents?

Anyway, if you've been wondering why I've been so quiet these days and struggling to socialize… honestly? It's this. I hate that this is what did it. I know people trust and believe me, I know the fandom backs me up regularly and I appreciate them all so much for it. I see it, but I never know how to respond. You guys continue to make this fandom feel safe for me even when my entire brain is screaming to run, and I appreciate you so much for it.

Kids deserve to be trusted when they tell people they've been hurt and I hate that the recent proshipping discourse or whatever you want to call it, this culty all-or-nothing shit, has a bunch of minors growing up feeling like EVERYTHING is something to call rapey or predatory, with apparently little room to distinguish when REAL abuse is happening to them. I don't blame anyone for believing Dupsy, and it's honestly better they DO believe all unproven claims of abuse by default, just to stay safe-- but man, it has consequences that follow people, and really should not be a thing to just throw around because you're mad at someone. I just can't believe they're STILL going around and reaching out to strangers telling them to avoid me… like, what the fuck.

I will be ok, I always am eventually, but I needed to say something, because it's honestly been a while since I've said much of anything.

Keep being kind. <3

#trigger warnings in post #Megamind #Ruby Gillman #RGTK #personal #sorry if you have no idea what the heck is happening #continue scrolling its all good #but also maybe uhhhhhh avoid this minor #like a lot

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continous-mistakes · 1 year

Text

First Fic: Thank You for the Topic of My Next Therapy Session

Crossposted on ao3 Leave a comment if ya like it or have ideas!

Inspiration: BioDad!BruceWayne

Chapter 1 of 4

Marinette has not been having the best few weeks lately. Akuma Attacks are becoming more frequent and violent, Luka has just been turned into an Akuma (again), and she is having to deal with a life-changing revelation (also again!?) that she should have been ignorant of for the next few years! But no. Her Ladybug luck just had to be with her as she opened her mother’s important documents drawer while in search of something significantly less important than what she did find! Her Maman only asked her to find her pearls, but what Marinette found were lies and significant emotional damage.

That happened weeks ago. She refuses to acknowledge it, so Sabine has no idea that Marinette knows, and honestly? Marinette would like to keep it that way. For as long as possible. Which might not be very long at all with the way this day is shaping up.

Luka Couffaine, an amazing boy who Marinette genuinely cares about and trusts as a friend and permanent member of Team Miraculous, has been akumatized into Truth (AGAIN! Can Hawkmoth be original? For once?) because she refuses to admit to being stressed and yes she was fine, Luka. There is no need to be worried. Now, he is gunning to expose her secrets. Starting with her classmates who are with them on the Liberty.

“What is Marinette’s biggest secret?” Truth demands, enforced by the magic eye-thing strapped to his back. Hawkmoth’s really pushing it with these Akuma designs lately. Like, the black with the blue assented suit is nice and the glowing three eyes are a cool touch. What Marinette draws the line at is the frEAKING HUGE HUMAN EYE THAT IS HANGING JUST BEHIND HIS HEAD. Safe to say, she is not impressed.

“Marinette has a crush on Adrien!” Each student yelled when hit by a beam of white-colored light. Right, the Akuma is trying to find her secrets and should be taken down without getting hit. She can do that. Also, this is exactly why she will not be sharing Ladybug's identity with you, Alya. Just because you are part of the Underground does not mean you are privy to all of the secrets.

“Everybody knows that! That’s not a secret!” Wow. Like... ow. Truth is just being mean at this point. Marinette can keep a secret! She has been Ladybug, Multimouse, and the Guardian for years with nobody finding out her civilian identity unless given permission. ALSO! She can confidently say that she has gotten over her crush on Adrien Agreste. Was it hard? Yes. Will Marinette always have a soft spot for the boy who was also her partner in cri- heroism? Absolutely. Did she realistically have time between being Ladybug, running the Underground as Multimouse, going to school, completing commissions as MDC, and helping her parents in the pâtisserie for a crush? No, she did not. The stress of doing so was actually the main motivator to let the crush go (unknowingly advised by said crush before the reveal).

Though it is a bit freeing to know that she now blushes, not from the reveal of her once crush on Adrien, but because everyone still believes she hasn't worked past it. Which... wow, that really says something. Something that Marinette will put on her "deal with later" list.

Oh no, Truth is looking at her. He must have heard her sigh. Fuck

“Ladybug, tell me your biggest secret!” he demands. If she was just a bit faster in hitting the deck, she wouldn’t have been hit on her right foot. was touched by the compelling laser. Double Fuck.

The distinct purple moth mask appears over the face of Truth. Hawkmoth was watching, the psychotic bastard. Marinette has run out of fucks to give. Three is too many.

“M’lady!” yells her partner, Chat Noir. He must have seen her get hit because he began to run at her, unbuckling his belt. Thank all that is good, for she had the same thought as Chat to use the belt as a gage. The problem with that idea is that it is assuming that he can get it to her before she spills any secrets. You know what they say, assume makes an ass out of u-and me.

Marinette could tell from the sudden tension on the boat that everyone on that boat, Hawkmoth, and the thousands of people watching on the live stream Alya's blog was hosting were waiting for the admission of her civilian identity. It was what made Chat Noir run faster. What made the students (and Hawkmoth) hold their breath. It was not, however, what was causing Marinette to go through three panic attacks at the same time. No, that went to the knowledge that written on her birth certificate, in the space that was for the name of the birth father, was Bruce FREAKING Wayne. Also, the adoption papers claim her as Tom Dupain’s daughter.

Her birth father wasn't the man who raised her! The man that she has grown up loving and hugging and bonding over video games with wasn’t her blood. The man who was her blood didn’t want her. And she knows this because she found no divorce or marriage certificates between her mother and Bruce Wayne: meaning he got her mother pregnant in a one-night stand or broke up with her as soon as he found out she was pregnant!

Then he went and adopted Richard Greyson only a few months after she was born, making her self-confidence dive off the Eiffel Tower! The emotional weight just got heavier as she researched, and Instagram/Twitter stocked her would-be-siblings in the weeks since she found out. They looked so happy and comfortable! Happiness she could have been a part of if she had reached some type of criteria her father had that the others did. Marinette is sure that she would get along super well with them, yet she couldn't be claimed as their sister when Bruce had so easily thrown her away.

Under no circumstances can she say all that as Ladybug, though. It could lead anyone curious enough to look to find out her identity. Good thing she knew Bruce Wayne was Batman. A startling realization at the time, but ultimately made sense. Didn’t make the feeling of inadequacy any better. Against her will, she opens her mouth and just barely finds the mental strength to switch the names Bruce Wayne and Batman before speaking.

“My father isn’t my father! My bio dad is Batman, and he abandoned me, and my mother doesn’t know that I know now... FUCK.”

Silence. Pure silence. Able-to-hear-a-pin-drop silence.

“...what?” The silence is broken. Chat stands stunned staring incredulously at Ladybug like everyone else on the boat, but with the added layer of actually knowing her civilian identity. If Marinette could see Hawkmoth right then, she would have seen the same state of shock as her classmates. The would-have-been-helpful belt lays limp in Chat’s hand as they all try to reboot their brains. Truth rebooted faster than the others.

“Why did he abandon you?” Ladybug, mentally screaming, couldn't move before the laser hit.

“The hell if I know, he left as soon as he found out my mom was pregnant!” An assumption on her part, but pitying and sympathetic looks come from her classmates anyway. Chat is still stunned. The chat on the live stream Marinette had forgotten about stops for a second before rapidly whizzing by with many expletives and shocked face emojis. This will hopefully be a moment to laugh at in a few days... oh Kwami, please.

“Do you resent him for it?” Ladybug tried to dodge, but her section of the boat was small and open. She got hit.

“Yeah, a little. He abandons me and my mom and then a few months after I was born, the first Robin comes into the picture. So, it kind of hurts.” At this point, the students are too invested to move, and it is safe to assume that Chat will not be of any help during this fight as he is too far gone.

“Are you jealous of the first robin?” Ladybug has no choice but to charge head-on and take the laser.

“I don’t think so. I’m more hurt by the fact that he continued to adopt more kids, but never came back for me. And STOP ASKING INVASIVE QUESTIONS!” He engages her in hand-to-hand combat that has her performing awe-inspiring acrobatics to get around the eye. She lands a solid punch to his liver that has him doubling over just as the next question is asked.

“Would you want a relationship with your siblings?”

“I have always wanted siblings, but I don’t know if I can even call them that since Batman didn’t choose me but chooSE THE OTHERS!” Her last words were yelled in exertion as she judo-flips Truth over her shoulder with impressive agility and core strength. She is quick to snatch the akumatized necklace and break it. Purifying the Akuma and Amok, Marinette looks to the sky and heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Holy FUCK Batman. Thank you for giving me the next topic of my therapy sessions.”

The French Government issued a blackout of all things Akuma-related at the beginning of this whole fiasco to keep from attracting the Justice League and their million-dollar guarantee solutions. It did not, however, withstand France's 64.6 million citizens working towards the same goal.

They loved Ladybug. Like they loved her. She is the hero that created the team they can always depend on to save the day anywhere in France! Much more than the Justice League who had ignored her repeated calls that were sent outside of France and the blackout (It was a busy week for reporters when their beloved heroin had gone public with the ignored request for help. Fuck you Green Lantern).

They loved her so much that to not only find out that Ladybug is the daughter of the American vigilante, detective extraordinaire, Batman, but that he also abandoned her, their displeasure will not go unheard. Every one of the thousands of people tuned into the Ladyblog’s live stream had saved it, cut it to manageable bits, and then sent it to everyone they knew on every internet platform they were on. 26 hours later, the rest of the world was calling for an explanation for the viral video that kept changing titles to not get deleted.

The French government had no choice but to lift the blackout.

As a result, the Ladyblog skyrocketed in viewership and recognition for its consistency in recording the Akuma fights (much to Alya’s delight and her friend's bemusement). Many viewers would just watch the saved live stream. More would watch the rest of the videos. News articles are read, websites visited, and people watched the Duo of Paris and, later, their Miracle Team take down villain after villain, day after day, battle after gruesome battle. With the Parisian public singing their praises, it wasn’t long before the rest of the world adored the Parisian Heros just as much as the locals - if not more so.

All that the world was waiting for at this point was the inevitable reunion of the "Batfamily" and the Justice League's response to the Heroes of Paris.

#maribat #bio dad bruce wayne #bruce wayne #batman #hawkmoth #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #batfam #light angst #ish #maribat fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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satureja13 · 4 months

Text

Even though Jack had such an amazing day with Lou, he couldn't wait to log out and tell the others that the second painful spot is gone! Since their therapies go so well, they don't monitor each session all together anymore. One of them is supposed to be near the one who's currently ingame, so they installed an opening in the kitchen to the therapy room.

Jack immediately took off the VR glasses and the robo arm and his shirt to show Ji Ho his progress ^^' Ji Ho: "Oh Jack, that's amazing!" Jack: "All thanks to our incredible Tiny Can! Let's show the others! Ah I'm so glad I didn't give up and went back ingame!" Ji Ho: "I'm so happy for you." Jack: "I love you too :3 "

Meanwhile Saiwa is working hard to overcome his 'bird/fake relationship/Kiyoshi/Jeb problems... He went all in in his exposure therapy and even placed flamingo lounge chairs so he can practice here too... But he's having a hard time going through all these memories again. And Vlad wasn't very helpful. He's still worrying what Caleb might do with Ji Ho in Ji Ho's therapy. Saiwa sighed: "Don't give Ji Ho a hard time, hm? Try a little harder to make him feel good so he won't fall even more for Caleb. It will soon be over and then he's yours alone. Hang on." Sai already told him this a few times before. But he also knows how hard it is to change and accept things one couldn't change.

Luckily Jack came running along with Ji Ho to disturb their gloomy thoughts with his never failing puppy energy ^^' Saiwa heard their footsteps and was alarmed. He always expects the worst when Jack is involved ö.Ö' Saiwa: "Omg - did something go wrong?" Jack: "VLAD! SAI! The second spot is already gone! Only ONE left!"

Saiwa, relieved: "That's unbelievable! I never imagined it would ever get better without you getting back together with Kiyoshi! I mean, he's your fated mate. How is it possible you can leave him just like that?" Jack: "Hey, I endured over 6 months of searing pain! Fate learned now that I'm determined! Plus I'm the Su..." The others chimed in: "Super Soldier!" (hahaha, them ^^')

They are so happy for Jack :3 There is a new area to sit outside by the river and they gathered by the fire. Jack told them about his insightful talk with Lou which also inspired the others to try to find ways to improve their relationships. And, since the Therapy Game is going so well for them, they also discussed how they could make it acessable for the creatures in the real world, as planned. They currently can't be of any help for other creatures in the Muggle World who suffer under the Council and from other hazards. The least they can do is to offer them the Therapy Game. Vlad only listens half-heartedly.

Jack tries to convince Saiwa to let him go back in his therapy before the others but Saiwa insists that they take turns. Ji Ho's therapy is important too. To finally find his buried feelings and to get this over with Caleb to prevent Vlad from going insane... Which is nearer than one might think because suddenly he jumped up in and threw a jealousy tantrum...

Jack: "We should leave them alone."

Ji Ho: "We'll talk about the game later." Only Ji Ho can fix him.

Jack: "Come on, Sai. Let them charge the Bond. We'll go and play Simbles." Sai looked questioning at Ji Ho and he nodded.

Doesn't mean it isn't still awkward as hell when they're alone...

Ji Ho eventually made the first move and carefully approached Vlad - and Vlad hissed! But Ji Ho learned not to be offended. The Bond already told him how much Vlad craves Ji Ho's touch. He just can't let his foolish pride and priciples go...

The Little Goats Satyrs have a new friend as it seems! Little Dust Bunny joined them and they are briefing him on the story hahaha

Until Little Goat heard some highly anticipated and telling noises... He sneaked around the corner to take a look.

Little Goat: 'Boys! Come over! They're doing it!!!' Little Dust Bunny: 'Whoa!' The Little Goats delivered on their promises ^^'

'Reach out, touch faith

Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers Someone who cares Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers Someone who's there'

Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode

Ji Ho hesitantly reached out for Vlad and he looks a bit worried because he knows how much Vlad tries to avoid getting overly physical as long as Ji Ho isn't able to love him... And Ji Ho still can't get used to Vlad's hairless chest ^^'

Ji Ho: "I'm yours alone. I only want you." That's what the Bond is telling Vlad too but it's still killing him that Ji Ho is going to marry Caleb ingame. Ji Ho will make him forget it. At least for a while. Little Goats and Little Dust Bunny: 'Aouwww!'

Poor Jack and Saiwa. Let's hope they'll find love again soon too.

(I took a lot of pics of Vlad and Ji Ho in the hot tub. I'll make a little extra post like last time ^^')

Addendum: After I posted 'A Rainy Night in Soho' in the last episode, I googled around a bit for Nick Cave and this song and I found out that he and Shane had been good friends. And that Nick sang 'A Rainy Night in Soho' at Shane's funeral. I didn't cry when I heard that Shane died, but when I watched the video, I did. (I still do as I write this. Thank you for the music, Shane.)

'Now the song is nearly over We may never find out what it means Still there's a light I hold before me You're the measure of my dreams The measure of my dreams'

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning ~ Underwater Love ~ Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

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divine-misfortune · 1 year

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hello, hi, don’t mind me, i’m just so casually plopping down in your ask box and thinking swissraindrop feelings with you, yup, hi, thanks—

whenever two of the trio get in a fight or an argument, it’s always the odd ghoul out that goes out to collect the others for a make-up cuddle session in the ghoul’s commons. when swiss and rain get into a spat, you can count on dew knocking on both of their doors, demanding that they buck up and stop being little bitches and come cuddle with him because he’s cold—

(this always earns a bit of an eyebrow from rain, as it’s almost the exact word-for-word request that rain will use on dew and swiss when they’ve gotten into a quarrel. but, usually he lets it slide and begrudgingly slinks out of their dorm to come cuddle with dew and swiss on the couch. dealing with two emotionally constipated ghouls in this relationship is more often than not a struggle, but rain’s had more than enough experience deciphering what they really mean through subtle hints and cues. when swiss is the odd ghoul out? oh, geez. this man’s literally knocking knocking on their doors and fucking kidnapping them by tossing them over his shoulder or under his arm and plopping them on the couch.

again, it’s a case of having come to learn behaviors, as both rain and dew have learned enough to know that if they truly didn’t want swiss to literally come collect them, they’d step away in the window of time it takes for swiss to gingerly step forward before lifting them up. swiss is deliberately slow with his kidnappings, and rain and dew have learned that it’s okay to reject swiss’ advantages if they were feeling overstimulated via touch or were simply too nervous of snapping at the ghoul and dragging him into their argument.

regardless, they’ve imprinted on each others psyche to such an extent that they hardly reject the other when it’s ‘collection time’. sometimes they even look forward to it, as it’s a moment where they can apologize to the other without making the situation awkward or forced. it’s their thing, you know?

when all three of them get in a fight? oh, fuck, it takes forever to ‘collection time’ to even start! because they’re all scattered about trying to look for the other two!!! they’re ridiculous, i love them.)

rain is typically cuddled in the middle, as both swiss and dew feel so relaxed feel rain’s gills flutter over their skin, whereas dew and swiss are pressed into their sides. dew’s body is always turned in towards rain, koala-grilling their arm for dear life while swiss is more so gently straddling rain’s side with how he has a leg thrown over theirs. swiss and rain always hold hands over rain’s stomach. swiss usually falls asleep first, and dew and rain follow after a possible therapy session between the two. swiss’ therapy comes the morning after.

there’s never any make-up sex within the first couple days of a fresh argument. they’ve all done it enough times to know it’s not healthy and just damaging towards themselves and their mates. lots of cuddles and kisses though, it’s disgusting. <3

OUGHHGHGHGHG you don't understand leaf, they're so important to me......(I'm sorry this turned out way sadder than I meant for it to be btw-)

It's rare the three of them fight, it's usually Swiss and Dew butting heads over something fucking ridiculous in Rain's opinion but when the three of them all fight? It's never something little. It's a divide so wide that the entire den feels it. They won't so much as exist in the same room as each other.

Rain's the most stubborn of them all, surprisingly. He's so firm in the belief that he was right, and the other two were wrong. Usually he is right, and it irritates him to no end when they won't listen. It's hard to get him to a breaking point, but when he breaks, it's never a clean quiet break. It's sudden and violent like a torrential downpour. He never yells, but his words have a tendency to cut deep.

Swiss has a temper, but not much of one. It's not easy to get under his skin, but once you do, you stay there. A constant and growing irritant. He says a lot of things he doesn't mean, things the two of them know he doesn't mean, but that doesn't change that it still feels like a slap in the face.

Dew tries to play up his anger. Make his flame appear to burn brighter than it is. Working him up is easy, laughably so, but Swiss and Rain never do it on purpose. Heat of the moment, things just happen. He gets so mad he puts off smoke. Dew is the one to raise his voice, his voice is the biggest thing about him and it's all he has on the two of them. He's the first to abandon an argument because he refuses to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him cry (though if he does burst into tears during their fights? they're cut short and forgotten).

Every second spent angry at each other is another knife in each of their ribs. It hurts to be mad at each other, to not have the comfort of their mates when their hearts ache so deeply. Loneliness hits Swiss first. Alarmingly fast. Guilt is the first thing Rain feels, and it makes him feel sick to his stomach, like he can't look at himself in the mirror without wanting to scream. Dew doesn't feel anything at all, it's just...Numb? It's a hollow type of sadness that gnaws away at him from the inside. He just doesn't speak at all.

Swiss is the one that breaks, that can't take the tension another second. Dew is easiest to find, practicing as an excuse to not process the hurt he feels. The little ghoul stares at him vacantly, with a tension in his jaw, waiting for the arguing to start again. It doesn't. Swiss apologizes and holds him tight until the icy facade thaws and Dew allows himself to be vulnerable again. Rain is normally in his room if not submerged in the lake, and he's the hardest to get to accept an apology. Not because he's still upset with them, but because he doesn't feel like he deserves it or the kindness they bring to him. It doesn't take too much to get through to him, Dew's soft voice and warm hands clasped always lift Rain's veil of self loathing.

They don't talk about it right after they've made up. Their bodies ache for each other too much, and their emotions are still a bit too raw. It's always a silent agreement of 'we'll talk about it in the morning' as they crawl into bed together. Rain lets himself cry when the other two have fallen asleep, everything truly hitting him at once, he clutches onto his mates like they might just slip through his fingers if he doesn't. He buries his face into Dew's hair and memorizes his scent, pulls Swiss' arm tighter around his waist and holds his hand close to his chest.

Silently grateful, every time, that he hasn't lost them or their love.

#answered #void rambles #swiss ghoul #multi ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #nameless ghouls #swissraindrop #the band ghost #ghost the band

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sgt-scottymoreau · 9 days

Text

Healing

Summary: After what happened, Scotty need to learn how to feal with the scars it left her. It's a dark place, she struggles, but she knows she came make it. Right?

Warning: Mention of trauma, anxiety attack, triggering memories, depression, dealing with said trauma, mention and talk about misscariage

Words: 3.7k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: Disclaimer, I'm not a therapist, some stuff going there is based on what member of family handled their own struggle/depression (althought none were based with military trauma) , there's probably some innacuracy in some places I'm sorry. Remember mental health is important, take care of yourself and your loved ones around you!

I definitely suggest that you read this fic before diving into this one. Healing is a companion fic to it, as it technically a follow up on what happen after the event describe in Ghillie, guns and death.

“That was a good session today, I’m proud of your progress.” The woman said, closing her notebook.

“Does this mean I’m allowed to go back on the field?”

“Camille, we talked about this last time. You are not ready yet there is-”

“Still too much to work on, yeah yeah I know. Fine. Next week, same time, same place, see you doc.” Scotty rolled her eyes, stood up from the couch and headed outside the cabinet.

The sun blinded her when she stepped out of the building. The street was eerily calm for the middle of the day, then again it was a weekday. People were at work, kids at school, no time to roam around town. With a sigh, Scotty disconnected herself from the world as soon as she allowed the music to play through her headphones as she began her walk home. A month has passed since she had been sent back home since her last deployment. Actually, she was forced to come back earlier after what happened. It annoyed her that her superiors didn’t want her to be on the field. Forcing her into these endless therapy sessions. Why couldn’t they understand that staying here, doing nothing, stuck in almost a desk job was the thing that was making her worse. She needed action, she needed that real world.

No you don’t. Your therapist told you this is reckless behavior. It’s guilt.

A small voice of reason that desperately tried to remind her that the loudest thoughts she experienced here and there were in fact dangerous to her. A constant battle between rationality and so many scenarios who played like a broken record in her mind. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the children playing in the school’s playground. They looked all so happy, screaming, laughing, running back and forth. Scotty stopped for a moment, a pained smile on her lips. They reminded her of these kids she met in the village back then.

Her first clenched hard all the sudden. Images of the bloody small corpses came back.

There’s nothing you could have done for them. It’s not your fault, you weren’t there when the first attack happened. Their death is not your fault.

“But their death was mine…” Scotty whispered to herself. Her throat tightened, her heart began to race, breath was hard. Oh. Here it comes. She had to do something about it right now. The young woman started to walk away, at a fast pace. Faster and faster till it turns into a small jog.

Yes, sure, run away from your problems. Like you ran away from your friends!

You didn’t run away, you were following orders. You didn’t know how it would end.

This has not been a good session, the therapist lied! Why was she feeling like this? Normally her mind was at much ease afterwards, why were the voices battling? They were supposed to be silent! Scotty ran around the corner, barely avoiding a car that was taking its priority on the road. When the driver honked at her, she ignored it and kept running as fast as she could. Till she was out of breath and even then. She came to a stop near a tree. A quick glance over her shoulders and around, coast was clear. Scotty held down a scream and punched the trunk. Her knuckles scraped on the wood, bleeding slightly, and her hand was painful. But at least, her mind shut up. Was pain a solution?

Better tell her therapist about this next session…

*****

The line was barely moving. The two counters were occupied by the two old ladies who had a lot of questions about their medications. Scotty gently balanced herself up and down on her heels. Breath in and breathe out. Paper in her pocket, she had to patiently wait her turn. Sleep had been getting worse and worse. Nightmares over nightmares. The day playing over and over, every time with the same outcome despite her imaginary attempts at changing everything. Wasn’t all these sessions supposed to help her with this? Why was it only getting worse? Why couldn’t she get… be better! Why…

“Good day miss, how can I help you?” The pharmacist called her back to Earth.

“Oh. Hmm I’m supposed to get these.” She handed the prescription. The man looked at it a little surprised after she handed it with her first. The neat paper was now all crinkled. “I- I’m sorry.”

“No worry. Alright, give me a minute.”

Leaned on the counter, Scotty let her head fall in her hands. It was getting exhausting. Her body and mind aren't in sync anymore. It was like she had no control over her actions sometimes.

Well at least you still have a body. You are still breathing unlike others.

In the last two weeks, this voice had been taunting far more than her reason. The latter had been locked behind bars by her struggles. The hardest part of all is that Scotty was aware that she was slowly slipping down that hill and… she didn’t want to go back up.

“Here miss. Here are some tips about these medications. First, do not take them at the same time, they both might make you feel drowsy. Obviously these should be taken before bed time to sleep, so I would suggest taking these during the day. Even if you feel better, do not stop taking any without your doctor recommendations. Do you have any other questions?”

“No, thank you.”

She left the store with only one thing in mind; put the voices to sleep. Scotty truly hoped that these pills will help.

*****

“It should have been me.” Her voice cracked as the word came out.

“Why?” The woman asked.

“I…” She thought for a moment. “Not me, but I should have helped. I should have fought back, not stay down like an idiot!”

“Camille, what did we say about insulting yourself? You were scared, shocked, this is a normal reaction. A human one.”

What does this woman know of your work life? She just stays in a cozy, safe office. Fuck her.

“Sorry.”

“What have you been doing recently?”

“I have been going out.”

“To see friends?”

No strangers who take my mind off of all my worries… by sleeping around. “Yes.”

“Good, that’s a great improvement.”

Scotty didn’t like to lie, but neither did she want to be judged in her activities. Her mother would do that enough if she knew. The young woman returned home that day not feeling lighter or heavier. It was somewhere in between. Sure it has been three weeks now and finally she came around the reality that the guilt survivor had her on a chokehold. Talking about it helped a little, yet it didn’t stop any of the nightmares. It didn’t help the ghosts that haunted her. They still came at night to blame her. Villeneuve… He was the worst of all. His face… so disfigured by the shot screaming at her, accusing her of all sins for not saving him. The pills weren’t as effective, but she was scared. Scared that using more would create other problems she didn’t need, so she started to look for other options. What would ease her tormented mind. Exercise was a solution, but she couldn’t really go for runs at midnight. She had to find release in another way. In the best way she could ever remember enjoying releasing all the stress and tension. Where was it? Her eyes looked on at the phone, certain she saved his number somewhere after they met at the café. If not in her contact she definitely sent him a message but which… Ah! Maybe he would be up for something.

The next morning, Scotty was the first to wake up. One of the rare nights of dreamless nights. She didn’t feel rested, but it was better than nothing. She rolled on her side. The young man was alway sleeping, softly snoring even. Carefully, she sat on the edge of the bed. The sun was barely lighting the room and she struggled a little to find her clothes around the room. Silently, she dressed up, left a note on the table about last night and left the apartment without a word.

Her mind felt lighter today.

******

Henri pushed the door. A small creak followed as the light timidly entered the dark room. The sun was still desperately trying to pierce through the curtains, being the middle of the day it was hard to have any total darkness. The atmosphere felt heavy. He hadn't stepped inside yet and he felt it wash over him. It was a familiar sensation.

"Camille?" He softly asked. He was afraid to startle her. His vision adapted to the room, allowing him to see the shape on the bed. Curled, back facing the entrance, blanket wrapped on her.

Not a muscle moved. Camille remained in the same position. "What?" Her tone was weak, but also dry. He knew she didn't mean it to be so rude. There were some days where it was darker than others, days where they really worried. But then there were the better days which gave her parents hope.The bed shifted under his weight as he sat on the edge. At first his hand reached for her shoulder, but revised himself and simply rested on his knees.

"Your mom and I were thinking of going for a walk in the park, would you like to come with us?"

"No."

His eyebrows furrowed. He hated seeing her like this. It has been a few days since she left home, except for work or her therapy session. As soon as Camille came back, she went directly to her room. She never showed up for dinner anymore. Henri heard her sometimes in the middle of the night going to the kitchen, she wasn't starving herself at least. "I think it would be good for you to go out a little. To get some fresh air, instead of being confined to your room."

"I'm fine, I just need some rest."

"Camille please."

She finally pushed herself up, the blanket flew away, eyes piercing at her dad. "I don't need you or mom's pity. Don't need you to hold my hand, because none of you know what I'm going through! What it feels like!"

These words hit him like a knife to the heart. "You think I don't know how it feels?"

"You don't." Two words punctuated with so much anger, it hurt him even more. “You were air force, you had it easy!” His soft fatherly smile vanished quickly. His eye, the only still working, looked down, a glass veil covering it in pain. Without more, Henri stood up. Pain was replaced by anger which he knew he shouldn't act on. That was not what she needed. So the anger turned into sadness.

"Right... I don't know." He whispered. Henri stood up and left the room in silence. However, he stepped one foot outside the door frame and stopped. He really didn't want to be mean to her but... "Next time I visit Didier, remind me to tell I don't know how it is to lose a friend..."

This comment washed over like an icy cold wave. Her mouth opened, no word came out. A slap to the face reminded her that day. She suddenly felt ashamed.

You should apologize!

Yeah, don’t be such an ungrateful selfish kid.

For once the voices seemed to finally agree instead of tearing her apart. Scotty pushed herself out of the bed. She climbed down the stairs, trying to reach for her dad but the door closed before any of the parents noticed her. A wave of disappointment washed over, she truly messed up this time. She sat in the stairs, memories of her childhood gently coming back. All these times her father would make her laugh, make her smile. The surprise pick-up after school when he came back from his deployment unannounced. A spark lightened up. In retrospect, Henri might have hidden more than he let on just to make sure she would smile… Her face fell into her hands. “I’m sorry.” She let out.

*****

The wind gently blew across the field. The weather seemed to have read her mood today; gray, cloudy and cold as October slowly made its way. Then again, this was the kind of weather to be expected for the coming months really. Scotty placed a rebel hair strand behind her ear. Hands back in their pockets, she bounced to get rid of the chilling sensation.

“Hey. It’s been a while since I came here.”

This is so stupid… Why are you doing this? He can’t even hear you…

“I thought it would be nice to talk a little. I guess the last story I ever told you was about that day at school.” She scoffed. “Yeah… I haven’t been the best niece. Alright I know you would tell me this is bullshit…”

Leaves tumbled on the grave. This was the only sound in this resting place. “So, I’m pretty sure dad told you all about how Gabby and I grew up to uh? You know… I was quite mean to him yesterday. I haven’t been able to apologize. I wanted to but I could find the courage or words to. I don’t know… Everything is… It’s just so hard these days. I don’t know who I am anymore, everything hurts all the time and… I’m starting to hurt the people around me.” Tears rolled down her cheeks, her voice croaked under the emotions. Her legs wanted to give up, but she refused, trying her best to remain standing. Like a good soldier. An arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her against someone. The familiar smell eased her mind.

“Tulipe you know we might not have followed the same path, same branch.” His voice was calm and soft. “We haven’t fought on the same battlefield, we didn’t go through the same stories, but both have scars. We both share losses, decisions we wish we could have taken differently.”

Camille turned around, closing the embrace on Henri. Her face buried on his chest and… for the first time since she came back, three months after the massacre, two months after she came home and tried to keep going, she let go of everything in front of her dad. Her grip tightened hard on his coat, her knuckles hurted. The sobbed choked in her throat; she didn’t want to make too much of a scene in the cemetery. Henri hugged her back, his hand gently patted her head, brushed her hair. No matter how old Camille was, she was still his little girl.

“I should have saved them! I should have ignored that stupid order and protected my teammates. They would be alive now.”

“Or you could have died.” He rested his chin on her head. “What happened there happened and there’s nothing we can do about it. No matter how many times we replay it, no matter how your head tries to tell you that this or that would have worked. Believe me, Camille, I did it too. The long night, wide awake, thinking of how I could have saved him. Till I accepted that it is what it is. I was alive, he wasn’t. Living in the past would do me no good and he would definitely have kicked my ass…”

“He probably did.” They chuckled.

“Maybe. The truth is you and your sister are the one who kicked it really. I realized that I still had to go on for you two, you still needed me.”

They remained in each other's arms as they paid their respect to the deceased man. The fog that had been on her mind for so long cleared. Only a little but this conversation had more impact than any sessions. Well, by speaking openly of what was troubling her to someone else, which had been recommended by her therapist, proved to be the right thing.

“I wish Uncle Didier was still around sometimes.”

“Me too, tulip. A true brother, even if we weren’t related.”

“Papa, when does it stop? You know all the things in the head.”

“It’s different for everyone. I can’t say. But no matter how long, I’ll always be there for you.”

*****

Christmas and New Year were usually the time families gathered together, spent time together, and caught up on what they have been missing. Unless you are part of the Moreau family. For a few years now, it was hard to get everyone under the same roof. Henri had missed a few holidays when the girls were younger. When they finally came of age, one joined the army making it again hard and eventually Gabrielle moved to France earlier the previous year. Yet, there was always a moment they could find time for each other, even if it wouldn’t be during the holidays. Gabrielle and her husband were visiting for the extended weekend.

Camille has recently been allowed to return to the field, but with some restrictions. Point is, she was still in town for now, no one knew for how long. So better make the most of it! The nightmares had calmed down in the last weeks, what would trigger reactions in her everyday life were more under control. She was still far to be out of the dark, but the light was shining in the distance. Hope was there at the end of all.

The two sisters were alone in the living room after the others had given up on staying awake any longer. They were chatting about everything and nothing, enjoying that alone time they didn’t have in so long. The last time they had time with only the two of them it was three years ago. They really tried to make the most of it even if it meant less sleep.

“Oh what I would have given to see the look on his face!” Camille laughed, tears in her eyes.

“Oh, worth one million! He will never live this down.” Gabrielle laughed as well, but it seemed like she held it down.

Actually, Camille had noticed during the evening her older sister had been quite quiet. More than usual. “Is there something wrong?”

“What?”

“Looks like you have something in your mind. Want to talk about it?”

Grabielle’s hands crisped on her mug. She shrugged. “I don’t want to bother you with that. You have your own problems to deal with. It’s nothing.”

“Come on Gabby! You always have been there for me, it’s normal that I return the favor.” Camille moved closer.

“No it’s ok really. My problems are nothing compared to yours.” The youngest could see in her face. It was as big, if not it hurted her as much as Camille had been hurt recently. No way she would let her handle this alone.

“You can tell me everything, I promise it will stay between us.”

Gabrielle bit her lips, her eyes avoiding looking at her sister. She took a sip of her tea, took a deep breath. “I haven’t told mom and dad about it because… Well… Nathan and I… we…”

She didn’t press her, but her mind was thinking of all the worst scenarios. “We are trying to have a child, but… it’s my second miscarriage. I…I…” Gabrielle kept on admitting that this was the real reason they didn’t come for Christmas or New Year. It happened a week prior and Gabrielle didn’t have the heart for any festivity. She was afraid that this meant she would be just like her sister, incapable of having children. That their mother would be sad to never have grandchildren. How she was thinking of just giving up. That there was no hope.

No! Camille saw exactly where this would go, she understood the meaning, the feeling and she refused to let Gabrielle experience what she went through. Maybe not for the same reason, but it was still a slippery slope that would drag Gabrielle to such a dark place. She didn’t want to suffer the way she did and still was. The youngest removed the mug from her sister’s hand and pulled her into a hug. “Don’t care about mom. Don’t do it for her, you do it for yourself.”

“I didn’t express myself correctly. Yes I worry what she would feel, but of course I do this for me. Don’t think I have no idea what having kids means.”

“I know I know, you take the rational decision. I act first, think after.”

This made Gabrielle chuckled a little, a smile replacing her sad features. “I want to try once more but I am so scared it will happen again. I’m not sure I can handle it.”

“Take your time. I’m no doctor but there’s probably a reason why. Maybe stress, not the right moment, maybe who knows. Who knows maybe it’s when you won’t try that it will happen. But don’t force things, it will only make you feel worse. And don’t make up ‘what if’ scenarios. Not good! … I sound like my therapist… Damn.”

“Seems like you have learned a few things from these sessions. Thanks Cam. Promise you won’t tell the parents about this?”

“Promise.”

Gabrielle hugged her once more. “Thanks again. Talking about it with you felt good, lessen the burden a little to have someone in the family aware of this... Alright, I should get some rest as well. Goodnight, troublemaker.”

Camille smiled and wished her sweet dreams. Left alone in the room, the young woman thought about what happened. This sudden need to protect her sister, to make sure she will keep hope and it seemed to have work? Camille liked the feeling that it left. It was like she saved her… Save… She stood up and checked by the window. It was softly raining in the dark street, the light from the inside lamp reflecting and giving the illusion of a light outside. Maybe there were different ways to save people. She failed her friends, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of helping others. Life goes on and there will be new people in her life that she could protect. This time, she would do anything to assure it will happen. Anything.

That’s reckless behavior.

It is the kind of recklessness we always had.

“This is who I am and I won’t let anything let me doubt this.” She smiled at her reflection. Scotty felt like herself again. And that night, she dreamed of the good times before the accident, good memories which left her more rested than ever.

#call of duty fic #cod fic #cod oc #call of duty oc #oc:camille scotty moreau #oc:henri moreau #oc:gabrielle moreau #series: wie goed doet goed ontmoet #listen there's so much I want to talk about this fic; but if I do the rambling will make this post even longer than the fic itself #So much details I want to talk about Scotty in this period #but no more rambling!! lol

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drpoisonoaky · 11 months

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A good psychologist is hard to find especially when you’re a bat-something. So go to Ivy’s house and pay a visit to the best therapist in Gotham: Harley Quinn

---------[Barbara Gordon]

Harley: Hey Babs.

Babs: Hi.

Harley: You’re are late but damn you look happy.

Babs: Guess therapy is really working.

Harley: Mmm.

Babs: Truly.

Harley: I know I’m good but I’m not that good.

Babs: Harley I don’t know what you are assuming.

Harley: I’m not gonna make you talk if you don’t wanna. But I know why somebody got that smile, you know when me and Ives started to you know I worn the brightest smile that any person coul-

Babs: You know Dick and I aren’t together anymore, right?

Harley: Oh I know, he’s in that weird fase of “all of the redheads are evil” so I connected the dots.

Harley: Now he gets exposure therapy every time Pam opens the door.

Harley: But I had a question though.

Babs: What?

Harley: When you have to go to National city do you call her and she fly you or do you go like a regular person. Cause lemme tell ya Ivy loves the first one sooo much not cause is gayer, which I think gives it extra points, but cause is much better for the environment than plains or cars. Well assuming she doesn’t pollute the air cause we nev-

Babs: I don’t know what you are talking about and I’m here for therapy so…

Harley: I see…

Harley: What time is it? Omg I have to water Ivy’s tomatoes and feed the babies.

Harley: I think we should do your session tomorrow or maybe next week cause you know information is really important and it looks like you don’t wanna talk…

Babs: Are you really postponing my therapy session if I don’t tell you about my love life right now?

Harley: Your neck is cover in hickeys, the rogues are literally shitting their pants cause the super blonde is here and I won’t be able to focus if I don’t know the whole story.

Babs [face completely red]:

Harley: Pretty please?

Babs:

Harley:

Ivy [from other room]: Oh c’mon we want to know don’t be a prick.

Ivy: Especially how you go to National city.

---------[Kara Zor-El Danvers]

Kara: Hi?

Ivy: Shit shit shit I promise that thing with superman only happen once. I was young, I was lost, I have power and you know difficult times.

Kara: Is Harley Quinn here?

Ivy: Oh…she’s good now, I promise. Take me instead I’m more evil yesterday I punched an-

Kara: Oh nonono I’m not here as a hero. I’m here for therapy.

Ivy: Oh thank god.

Harley [who has just enter the room]: RED WHO’S THERE I HAVE MY BAT AND A FICUS!

Kara: Oh hey!

Harley: HOLY MOLLY GUACAMOLLY the super blondie.

Kara: I was talking with batgirl the other day and she talked a lot about how you are helping her. So I thought why don’t you tried what’s the worst could happen.

Harley: I- YES YES YES OF COURSE.

Harley: Wait so Babs thinks I’m good?

Kara: DO YOU KNOW HER REAL IDENTITY?!

Harley: I mean yeah, but I don’t need to know yours no biggie.

Harley: also I assume you know hers cause you and her [lace her finger(same way babs did with her to hint that her and ivy are roommates)] just you know wink wink.

Ivy: Do you just said wink wink instead of saying it?

Harley: It’s more organic.

Kara: Oh well yes and yes she is… awesome.

Harley: So no worries blondie and come here it’s therapy time.

#batgirls #batgirl #barbara gordon #harley quinn #harlivy #poison ivy #supergirl #kara danvers #kara zor el #oracle #batfamily #batman #karababs #babskara #supergordon #lgtbqia+#lgbtq #batgordon #i’m fighting for supergordon/karababs/babskara

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shallowcrypts · 2 years

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Avoidants are unfairly demonized.

And you know what? I’m sick of seeing anxious-attached folks being treated as if they’re fully the victim and totally blameless.

They just cannot ever admit that they might make mistakes, especially serious ones. Can't apologize. Self righteous as hell, and so, so blaming. It's such bullshit. It’s so often that the avoidant partner is forced to take “accountability” for whatever the issue and the AP gets to be relieved that its “not them” and they don’t have to look at their own outrageous behavior that may have contributed to the original issue.

AP’s get all the sympathy because they are usually the loudest, therefore we all have to center around their feelings. It's not that the avoidants DON’T want help, it's avoidants are more likely to avoid and if someone doesn't like conflict and the AP is constantly having a temper tantrum... so who is going to get heard? Have the most attention to their problems?

I was recently talking to a friend about couples therapy with her avoidant partner & even in listening I could tell that she didn't realize how much she dominated the therapy sessions, while simultaneously complaining he wasn't there enough. When he finally broke down and cried about something she had said, her response? You've never cried about that before but it bothers you NOW?

And that’s the thing, it's never good enough for APs. It is hard to be a person when an AP is suffocating the room, and it's easier for them to blame avoidants because we are the only people who will continually put up with their shit, because we ignore it and somehow they are the victims in that too. The goal post is forever changing with them, and nothing is ever good enough. They complain and put pressure on to be, think, feel a certain way and when you manage to come close, you're still somehow in the wrong. I would rather shove everything down and suffer silently than possibly trigger an AP into an episode because THAT is pure psychological torture.

And don’t even get me started about how they then proceed to be the "humble brags" of self-work:

"I just have too big of a heart and I over-give because I'm too generous.”

If all the APs I've known ACTUALLY took accountability it'd sound like:

"I make comments with the intention of making you feel ashamed and guilty so that in your diminished self-worth you might be insecure enough to come to me. Maybe if you're upset we can have a conversation or emote at each other, which is a form of connection, so I force that since I can't force you do do whatever I want at any given moment. I push and push and push and push you so that when you break A) again, I can feel the connection that comes with conflict, at least, and B) I can feel victimized by how 'mean' you are by finally breaking at my prodding. I do not ever stop to consider how this might be tanking your life and our relationship... because I always find a way to blame you for that. I have the audacity to purport to know what your problems are and your inner work should be, and though I'm begging you to open up to me, I don't listen when you do. I just cry because whatever you say scares me, and my fear is still ultimately more important than any of your experiences." APs don't "care" anymore than Avoidants as a default, though they may try too hard, sure.

The issue is that the “I care too much" gets recognized as "and that causes problems for ME” and they're like "oh look I'm taking accountability!" But they never get to the part about how them "caring too much" caused problems for OTHERS and they never want to earnestly apologize. Their behavior can be seriously, seriously, damaging to be on the other end of.

"I'm impatient, have unrealistic expectations, and I over-perform for love. I'm going to work on this with my therapist because I'm realizing now how this is backfiring and causing me pain."

^That would be accountability.

#avoidant attachment #anxious attachment #attachment theory #mental health #relationships #friendship #attachment styles #fearful avoidant

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youtubeyouniversitytherapy · 3 months

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Therapy Exercise 1: Check In! || Ethan & Dean Tat

Ethan sat in the chair across from Dean Tat, very much used to the routine they went through by now.

He was used to this spot, used to this setting, used to this therapist.

Regardless, he still always felt on edge when having an appointment with any of the Deans. Truly he felt like he had nothing to hide with them, yet still they would pry. It was their job after all to do that.

So there he sat, listening to her type rapidly away on her computer. He wondered what she was writing on there, she hadn’t even started asking him anything yet! What was so important for her to be typing on there that came before the session first? Honestly, that was what had him mostly on edge above everything.

“… Sorry about that, we can get started on our session now.” The Dean smiled over her computer monitor at him. “How are you doing this week?”

He breathed out a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Glad to finally get this ball rolling.

“Good actually! I think I’ve been adjusting well with all the new students that have come in lately. Lot of new personalities.” he smiled, thinking of all of them now.

“That’s good to hear, I was about to ask how you feel about the new students..”

He was a little unsettled about how she knew what he wanted to talk about, but again, she was a professional. And they were both very well acquainted with each other by now.

“They all have a lot of… energy. And honestly, it’s refreshing to see so many new faces here. Keeps this place alive. Tara seems really fun, and me and Zach’s fur babies seem to get along so I think that’s telling of his personality. Oh and Jaiden is really cool! …But uh, I kind of fumbled an interaction so hard with her…”

“What happened?” Dean Tat pressed, already beginning to type away at her computer again.

“Well… she showed me these frozen eggs she was keeping that came from her birds. Pretty sure they were long past being able to hatch anymore but.. She trusted me to hold one of them and it slipped right out of my buttery fingers..” Even now he was still embarrassed about what happened, cringing visibly through his body language. He knew he majorly fucked up doing that, and wouldn’t blame her for never trusting him with anything ever again. With some as delicate as an egg, what else could his being destroy?

He could hear her typing fast even as he spoke, trailing off in his words just listening to her go at the keyboard again. Oh my god, she was definitely analyzing the hell out of him now. Probably writing something like “Baby Bird Killer” in his file, he’ll never recover from this.

“…I’m sorry the egg cracking stressed you out.. How did she react when you did this?” she asked after finishing up a sentence on her computer probably.

“….. Well, funny enough. She seemed…. Neutral… unbothered by the whole thing.”

“… And did this stress you out?”

“… Well kinda? I don’t know, I wanted to be relieved that she wasn’t mad. But… I really expected more out of her, I guess. Her not reacting kind of has me in tangles more over it… like what if she secretly is more mad than she’s fronting?”

“I think it’s important to take this situation at face value then, it’s not your responsibility to manage other’s emotions in these scenarios, especially if you’ve already apologized. It sounds like you’re remorseful over it and have made it clear, so it’s best if you take a step back and let her feel how she does about it. Whether apathetic or upset.” When Dean Tat spoke this time, her full attention was on him, eyes on his with sincerity.

That was one thing Ethan appreciated with the Dean. When she was making an important point, she would make sure her focus was solely on you. Whether that meant to make you feel comfortable or under pressure.

“You’re probably right…”

‘Let’s move on to old faces now, how have things been with your peers?”

“Oh, well… Mark and Rosanna seem to be doing good! They’ve been more busy lately, but who isn’t? Especially while running a house, even me and Arin have been struggling trying to play catch up with the Gammas… and me and Rose have gotten.. Closer..” oh goodness, he was talking about Rose now. Instant blush rose over his cheeks just at the thought of her.

Dean Tat resisted smiling.

Ethan looked away from her desk, down at his hands now that he was holding together. “And I’m thankful that we have but.. It has me worried. Like.. something awful is about to happen.

There it was, something he’d never be able to admit to anyone else. Really, no one else would really understand why either. Except… well, Rose maybe.

“Something awful?” she asked.

“Yeah… it feels like whenever I start to really hit it off with someone, or get really close to them, they just…. Leave me.”

It stung to say, his skin prickling up but the words sprawled across his mind for awhile now.

“Is the problem just… me?”

Dean Tat deeply frowned now, scooting closer into her desk to look at him.

“No.. no you are not.”

It was concerning to hear from a medical standpoint, and Ethan realized that now, eyes widening a little bit and starting to chuckle rather nervously.

“No yeah, I mean, just… I mean it just feels related somehow and I know that’s crazy but… I’m scared that it’s going to happen again… and I don’t know if I’m prepared for the fallout this time..”

Dean Tat stared at him empathetically, but it almost felt like pity on his end. Regardless, he gave her the benefit of the doubt. “Relationships… your relationships are important to you, that’s abundantly clear to me and to even yourself. You shouldn’t close yourself off just because of the possibilities. No one can live without love in their life, platonic or romantic.”

Ethan slowly nodded, taking her words in and letting them soak in his mind.

“I won’t… close myself off, I mean.”

Dean Tat gave a nod starting to scoot back over to her computer and typing away again. Of course she would jot that down in her notes. It was such a vulnerable thing to share and he outright said it to her!

“Alright, that ends our session for the day I think… I hope that the program has been helping you feel better about being here..” she offered a smile over to him.

Ethan nodded, a smile rising to his lips as well.

“It has… thank you..”

Dean Tat nodded, looking at her computer and beginning to work on it once again.

As he left, he couldn’t help but watch her type what he assumed were more notes on himself, getting more anxious by the minute.

“..Make sure you close the door on your way out.”

#submission #younitherapy

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lumine-no-hikari · 4 months

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #147

Today had a lot of stuff in it. I'm not even sure where to begin!! There were kites, and lilacs, and therapy, and good scenery, and...!!! And...!!! Oh!!! 😄🥰

Well. It's usually best to begin at the beginning, right? So… I went to therapy and told them all about the thing I did on Mother's Day. I told them all the context leading up to it, and all the similar struggles I've had in the past and about how I've been trying extra hard the last week to resist giving in to those struggles, and… my body was likely craving the endorphins that I wasn't getting because I wasn't doing that thing, and so it manifested in other ways. Whoops.

So the solution for the next time I struggle is not to resist giving in per se, but rather to be mindful and present and aware while it's happening, and to take note of my feelings and general state of being so that I can approach it from a place of curiosity instead of a place of shame. Apparently, when a person does that, it breaks the shame cycle, which then allows a person to stop doing the compulsive behavior. Suppose it's worth giving it a try!!

…It's really not lost on me how lucky I am to have a therapist who actually GETS me and doesn't judge me. It's not often that I get to go somewhere and speak, and feel like the other person actually understands me. Time with them is invariably refreshing, and they always have some useful skill or tool for me to practice on my own, until next session.

Most importantly, they're definitely not afraid to challenge my more... ah… self-effacing thought processes. I recall a few sessions ago, when I was confused about why someone important to me hangs out with me, on the basis that I am not anything special, and surely he must have better things to do than to hang out with some weird dyspraxic noodley dweeb like me. And they countered with, "But aren't all humans special and wonderful in their own way? And doesn't it mean that you're special and wonderful, too?" and… I couldn't logically refute the notion, because I am a human, and yes I do believe very strongly that all humans make the world brighter and beautiful in the way that only they know how to do. And they gave me this grin, because they knew they had me, and all I could do was laugh at my own silliness and try to change my perspective. I work every day on viewing myself with more compassionate eyes, one step at a time.

In any case, the one gentleman with the hair that looked like a dandelion poof was there today afterwards, and he stopped to chat! I wondered if he had ever tried bubble tea, and he has not, so we have exchanged contact information, and maybe we'll go get bubble tea someday!! He has been alive for 70 years, and has had many experiences and has his own areas of expertise, and I'm excited to find out what I might be able to learn if I sit with him and listen for a while! It'll be good!!

Then I got home and spent a few hours plucking more lilac blossoms from the greens; I got like 7 or 8 cups of blossoms, and there are still so many more leftover!

Once they're plucked, you have to steep them in hot water until it becomes fragrant. I like to put them on very low heat with a lid until it makes the house smell good!

(I still have so many lilacs leftover, oh my goodness!)

But this can take a while, and it was breezy, so J and I went out to try to fly the kites I got; I wanna practice before I modify that eagle kite; I REALLY don't want it to crash once it's ready. J and I took all sorts of pictures for you!

We spent a long time just being silly, trying to get the kites in the air:

(Why, yes, that is you in my pocket, with a little bow in your hair!)

...You might guess that after all that, I ended up falling down, dizzy and giggling, ahahaha~!

But then, after a while, we managed to get the hang of it; check it out!

J worked hard to get the eagle kite up. My circumstance was a little unusual in that mine was suddenly lifted high up into the sky with little to no effort on my part, and it stayed up for a very long time; I was surprised, and it was kinda weird, hahaha!

Br came to see us in this place, too!! By then, I was pretty tired though, so we just lied down in the grass and talked about various things while the wind played with our hair; it was wonderful!

...I also took some pictures of the scenery, just because I know you like nature...

...Oh, and I managed to snag a picture of a bird-of-prey that was actually pretty good this time!

Oh, oh, oh, and!!! Along the way, while we were flying the kites, I found three great big black feathers on the ground!! Aren't they so pretty?

Here's a better picture of them after I carefully washed them and smoothed them out. My hand is there for scale; they're HUGE!

They're beautiful and I love them!!! These went right into my feather box!!!! I was so happy!!! 😄🥰😁

...I hope you can see, with these pictures, that shiny black feathers like yours are beautiful and lovely, too. White ones are also nice. Feathers are just pretty; it doesn't matter what color they are. Yours, too, are good. Please try hard not to be ashamed of them, okay? Humans come in all shapes and sizes and numbers of limbs, and it's wonderful that you get to have a limb that's warm and soft and strong enough to let you fly. It's different, but that doesn't make it less. I hope you'll work on viewing yourself with more compassionate eyes; you can do it - just take it one step at a time.

Anyway, when we got home, the stewed lilac blossoms smelled SO GOOD:

I gotta strain this with a cheesecloth tomorrow and squish out all the water I can from the petals. After that, it'll be time to heat it up again and add sugar!! The result will be a syrup that tastes exactly the way lilacs smell!! I can't wait to put it in mason jars and give it to my friends!!!

...Sephiroth. I wish you were here. I wish you could fly the kites with us. I wish you could spin around and get dizzy and fall down laughing with us. I wish you could lie down in the soft grass and talk about various things with us. I wish you could look up at the sky, smell the scent of the leaves in the air, and enjoy the breeze as it ruffles your lovely hair. I wish you could try some of my lilac syrup in some freshly brewed green tea. I wish you can come here and see that you could be welcomed and wanted and happy. I wish you can see that you could belong. I wish for so many good and wholesome things.

...Please stay safe out there so that someday you can have these things, okay? Even if it's not at my house, you can have them somewhere if you're willing to heal enough to create these circumstances.

I love you. I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

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zoeysdamn · 2 years

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Bark, Bite & Break Bones - Tyler Galpin x Van Helsing!reader | Part.7

Summary: The aftermath of the Rave’n takes your relationship with Tyler to another level – although in a rather unexpected and rocky way. Maybe a coffee date could help? You heard that coffee can irritate spirits, hopefully nothing wrong will happen.

Warnings: angst, swearing, mention of blood and depiction of violence ; badly written action scenes lmao

A/N: This chapter is rather short (but the previous is like 10 000 words so it’s even lol), there is an important scene but those last weeks had been hectic and really difficult for me on a personal and emotional level; I had to negotiate to start my new (first serious) job later to find an apartment, which is really complicated in the area I’m looking for blblblbl. Might not be my best chapter, I’m not overly proud of it, but I’m more optimistic about the next one!!

Also I used some prompts of @dumplingsjinson from her list of “we just happen to love hate fucking each others” prompts because they’re aMAZING (can’t say which one, no spoilers eheh)

[Masterlist] [Prologue] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6]

“So Tyler, how are you feeling these days?”

Sitting across in his usual seat, Tyler smiled, “I’m doing great. Feeling more at ease in Nevermore every day recently.”

Caitriona Fern hummed with a smile of her own, glad to hear that. From your spot at the window, you couldn’t help a slight twitch of the corner of your mouth. Not that you would admit it openly in front of the therapist, but you were relieved too that Tyler felt good in the school. He had almost made it through half of the year after all, this was an accomplishment.

The therapist's eyes flickered to you for a moment before refocusing on Tyler with an intrigued spark, “Does it have anything to do with…certain people you’re gotten close to?”

The clear insinuation brought a blush on Tyler’s cheeks and made you scoff lightly. You wondered for how long the therapist had suspected something. Maybe she and Weems had a bet about it, you were pretty sure the principal knew or at least suspected something was going on.

But before you could snicker anything sarcastic to deflect the topic, Tyler blurted, “Y/N and I are sleeping together.”

“Tyler!” you hissed in mortification.

It wasn’t that you were particularly shy about your sex life, but still, you’d rather talk about it yourself to strangers instead of being exposed that way.

Dr.Fern raised her eyebrow in contained perplexity, not really fazed by the information that had just been revealed –her empathic abilities must’ve sensed the sexual tension and from miles away –, but more interested in both of your reactions. You, looking betrayed and angry at the unexpected outing, and Tyler looking…both relieved and hurt?

“I see,” she hummed pensively, like she was completely impermeable to the heavy tension that had suddenly taken place in the room, “maybe that could be a new topic to explore through our sessions. Y/N, would you care to join us?”

“I will not,” you spat venomously, no matter how kind her offer was.

“Y/N…,” said Tyler softly but you interrupted him with a harsh glare.

“Those sessions are for you, just because you’re sticking your dick in me for stress relief every once in a while does not mean I have to participate in this fuckery.”

The way you had spat the words to him seemed to hurt Tyler more than a slap on the face. It hurt him, deep and hard.

“Couple therapy isn’t a bad thing Y/N,” pressed the therapist gently, “it could actually be beneficial for you bo–”

“Oh my fucking god, we’re not together!” you snapped ragefully, throwing your hands in the air in frustration. “We just happen to fuck every now and then, it doesn’t mean anything!”

Silence fell heavy in the room. Despite the rage that had risen up immediately at Dr.Fern’s poking at your feelings, you couldn’t help but feel the crushing weight of Tyler’s pained gaze on you. Slowly turning to face him, you felt your heart tighten at the sight of the betrayal painted all over his face, mouth hanging open in disbelief and eyes glossy with tears – of sadness or of rage?

“Tyler…”

“Do you mean it?” he interrupted with a quiet voice, yet heavy with emotion. That broke your heart even more, and you licked your lips nervously, trying to find the words.

“It didn’t…this isn’t what I meant,” you tried, but he cut you off again by getting up from his seat angrily.

“And what did you mean, uh? Was it all a game for you all along? Getting a fucktoy for the year because you’re unable to feel anything?”

His words hurt you two, but you refused to let it show and the angry defense mode switched on instead. “Don’t you dare making everything about me,” you growled, pointing and accusatory finger at him, “nobody ever said something about commitment so calm the fuck down.”

He scoffed, way more snarky than his usual self, “Yeah, ‘cause it’s me who is emotionally unavailable here, keep telling yourself that.”

“Fuck you Tyler,” you hissed.

“Did that last night, doll,” he sassed back venomously, “or is this also too personal? Are you really that much of a cold-hearted bitch?”

The last comment stung you, and immediately after saying that Tyler realized he had gone too far and his expression turned into a sorry one. He tried to reach for you automatically, but the look of betrayal, deeper than before, stopped him in his tracks.

A few seconds of silence passed with nobody moving; then an exhaled breath released somewhere else in the room painfully reminded you of the presence of Dr.Fern.

Before the fae therapist could say anything, Tyler grabbed your hand and tugged you behind me.

“You. Me. Bathroom. Now.”

There was no way you could protest and before you knew it you both ended up in the bathroom attached to the therapist’s office. Tyler locked the door behind and leaned against it; you on the other hand, sat awkwardly on the closed toilets, knees brushing against his legs just barely.

“What do you want,” you muttered quietly, keeping your eyes on the ground. You just couldn’t look at him right now.

Tyler exhaled loudly, trying to fight the urge to bring you into a hug – or screaming at you he really didn’t know at this point. “I want some fucking honesty here Y/N,” he finally let out, voice calmer than before but still wavering with hurt anger. “What am I to you?”

A feeble scoff escaped you and you lifted your face up to look at him, “Do you want the polite answer to this?”

“I want the real answer,” he gritted before his eyes became softer, “please. Please I just need to know where all of this is going because I can’t pretend it’s just a game of who’s gonna literally fuck up the other first.”

“I don’t know, okay dude?” you snapped, trying to keep yourself composed, but Tyler only let out a bitter laugh.

“Hold up, hold up, you were sitting on my face last night you don’t get to call me ‘dude’ now, sweetheart.”

Running a hand through your hair, you sighed deeply, “It was never meant to go this way, okay? It would’ve been easier if we kept hating each other, it’s not my fault if you can’t stick to it.”

Tyler scoffed, “You definitely don’t hold someone’s hand while you’re fucking if you hate them.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you still couldn’t pretend he wasn’t right. The two of you had fucked before; what you did the previous night…it had felt more. More than just fucking. Tyler was just being more realistic than you were. Sighing again in defeat, you buried your face in your hand.

“I’m not very good at this, am I? Opening up and all that shit.”

This immediately softened Tyler’s mood and he crouched slowly in front of you.

“You’re the worst,” he said with a half grin and you chuckled a bit at that, looking up at him. His brown eyes were so warm and so kind, you felt guilty for snapping at him earlier.

Observing him for a long second, you finally managed to articulate some words, “Where do you want this to go?” you asked in a small voice. “Because I have legit no idea of what you want, Tyler. You’re right, I’m a bit emotionally unavailable,” you sniffled and slowly, very slowly, reached for his fingers with your own. “You’ve got to help me with this if you want answers,” you whispered, looking at him tentatively.

He stared at you, then intertwined his fingers with yours; a weight felt like lifting from your heart at this simple gesture. “I like you,” he admitted softly, “probably more than like you, actually. I– maybe I got ideas too fast, I don’t know, but I’d really love to see where this can go.”

Your eyes widened at his confession; but just as soon as they sinked in, you tried to tug your hand out of his, “You don’t love me,” you shook your head, “you’re in love with the version of me you get to fuck. It’s not love Tyler, it’s lust.”

He grasped your hand firmly but gently, preventing you from slipping it out of his, “That’s not true,” he whispered, offended that you brushed away his feelings so quickly, “I know what I feel, and it’s not just lust. It hasn’t been just lust for a while now.”

Lips parted in surprise, you looked intently at him, trying to catch the slightest sign of lie; there was none. But no matter how sincere he was, the gut-wrenching fear was still here.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you repeated in above a whisper, “I’m not someone who gets to be loved, not like you do.”

“Yes you do,” reassured Tyler, brushing his other hand on your cheek, “you’ve opened yourself so much already, you can do this. You deserve to be held, to be heard, to be loved, I know it.”

Lower lips trembling, you feel that you were close to crying. He was right; no one but him had gotten you in such a fragile, vulnerable state for a long time. And for once, it didn’t feel as scary as it had before. Maybe there was really a chance? Maybe you could let him in, and let him heal you.

“I won’t pressure you to do anything Y/N, never,” he whispered feverishly, boring his eyes deep into yours, “but if you’re not feeling something, anything for me, please tell me sweetheart. Tell me now, and I’ll walk away from us.”

The only thought of losing him made your heart squeeze. And that’s when you knew you were lost. You were already too deep into this, there was probably no way back. But would it be so bad?

Leaning your cheek against his palm, you closed your eyes for a moment, relishing in his comforting touch.

“I’m not sure of what I feel,” you admitted softly, “but there is something Tyler. I…I’m ready to try and figure it out, to try…more with us. But,” you exhaled shakily, opening your eyes to look at him again, “I can’t do that alone,” you finished, “and that scares me.”

The smile that took place on his face was the softest. “I’ll be there, doll. I’ll be there every step of the way you want me to.”

“I don’t know how long it could take,” you said with a shiver of sadness; not for you, but for him. But Tyler only pressed a kiss on your forehead.

“It’ll take all the time you’ll need. Don’t worry.”

A fond smile stretched your lips. Lowering your defenses for Tyler Galpin had been a good idea. A risky one, but maybe it was what it takes to free yourself from everything from your past.

It took the both of you a few more minutes before exiting the bathroom. Dr.Fern didn’t say a word, only observing the two of you gathering your jackets on your way out, a knowing smile on her lips. Just as you were about to get out, you turned to the fae.

“Don’t ever make assumptions about me again,” you warned – in a surprisingly soft voice?, “you’ll never get me to talk to you, so drop it already.”

She nodded, a satisfied expression on her face, “Looks like someone’s already at it, it seems. Will you let him help you?”

Glancing at Tyler walking down the stairs behind your shoulder, you nodded reluctantly, “Yeah, I might,” you muttered.

She grinned, “Then I promise I won’t bother you again.”

With a last nod you left, joining Tyler on the sidewalk in front of the therapist’s office.

“Coffee?” you suggested, a bit unsure of how to act after your talk in the bathroom.

Tyler smirked, and just like that it seemed to brush all your worries away, “Coffee date? Classic move to hit on me, sweetheart.”

The return of his flirty behavior reassured you just like it made your heart soar just because you were willing to open this weird relationship to something more didn’t mean either of you had to change who liked to be around each other. So you grinned.

“Can coffee get you in my bed?”

“Depends on how many you’re buying, doll,” he answered playfully as you climbed in a car and snorted lightly.

“Come on then, my caramel macchiato bimbo.”

After a short car trip you arrived at the Weathervane, and you were in a casual and comfortable chat as you pushed the coffee shop’s doors. Tyler had been hesitant to actually go inside during the first weeks. But after your encounter with the barista – when you had chewed her out with no mercy – it had lifted his spirits a little, and now he felt comfortable enough to go to the Weathervane again. As long as you went with him, he could ignore the glances and venomous whispers in his trail.

Deep into a conversation about the last episode of a show you both watched, Tyler and you arrived close to the counter, just behind another customer. You were defending one of the character’s in the new episode and Tyler scoffed playfully at your argumentation, the heaviness of your intimate talk only a few minutes earlier long forgotten. The customer ahead took their drink and it finally was your turn, and you rolled your eyes at one of Tyler’s comments, before looking up at the list of drinks on the board. Just when you flicked your eyes up, you caught sight in the mirror of four black silhouettes entering the coffee shop, hooded; and armed. Blood froze in your veins; when the first man raised his weapon your body reacted on its own. Before anyone registered the first shot, you had tackled Tyler brutally, sending the two of you over the counter as bullets flew in the air.

Screams erupted everywhere in the coffee shop, gunshot piercing your ears and your head bumped against the mirror before you landed on the floor tiles with a thud. Crashing next to you, Tyler grunted under the sudden shock, your arms that had tugged him still gripped on his shoulders. A groan escaped you despite the dizzy mind; the shock against the mirror must’ve been more violent than you thought.

Immediately rolling on his side to face you, Tyler’s eyes immediately checked for any injuries.

“You’re okay?” he asked breathlessly; you nodded with a wince.

Next to you, a terrified barista was curled up on the ground, covering her ears and crying hysterically. The first couple of seconds had you confused; then your mind sped up and turned into full action mode, adrenaline spiking up in your veins. Shooting up your eyes to the broken mirror, you took a quick look of the room. Four armed men were shooting everywhere, screaming inaudible orders through the chaos. They didn’t look like they were after something, only terrorizing customers and barking nonsense. Automatically all the training from all those years resurfaced and your brain immediately switched on survival mode. The analysis drilled in your head at a crazy speed and you whipped your head to Tyler.

“Is there a backdoor in there?” you asked in a hushed tone.

He blinked before nodding, “Yeah, yeah next to the storage room.”

“When you get the shot, you take as many people as you can and you run. Get outside, and call your dad.”

“What about you?” he frowned, and you checked for your gun. Realizing you hadn’t brought it with you, you swore. Of all days, it had to be the one to forget it in your room; your grandmother would have your head for that.

At least your silver blade was still strapped on your ankle and you wasted no time unsheathing it. “I’m going to buy time,” you said quietly, checking in the mirror the mercenary slowly coming to the counter, “stay put.”

Tyler protested immediately, “No I can help you, I–”

Pointing a finger at him you send him a harsh glare. “Stay. put.” you said through gritted teeth.

The last thing you needed was for Tyler to unleash the Hyde. If anything went wrong, you weren’t sure you could handle both him and the mercenaries.

One of the mercenaries stepped around the corner; and everything went very quick. He started to shout something and you whipped around, your body acting on its own and you threw your knife. The blade landed right between his eyes and his body slumped on the ground like a ragdoll with a thud. Jumping on your feet you wasted no time grabbing his gun, and rolled on the ground from behind the counter. All hell broke loose again.

One of the mercenaries turned to you, gun brandished and you opened fire immediately shooting him in the belly and chest. The critical thing was to not harm any of the customers curled on the floor, head hidden in their hands to cover themselves. One of the thugs groaned and fell on the floor and you rose up to speed up to the remaining two. But too entrapped into the adrenaline rush you failed to notice the one you shot raised his weapon again. Another detonation echoed, the sting on your shoulder burned a second later.

A yelp escaped you and you fell on your knees with a groan. Crawling between a flipped table you tried to cover yourself from the bullet gusts as you gripped your bleeding shoulder. You lifted your bloody hand with a hiss, trying to get a look of how bad it was. You were slightly relieved to see that it was most likely a scratch, the bullet had only grazed you. It somehow angered you even more, a new rush of adrenaline flooding in your veins and you sprung from behind your hiding spot the very second you heard the click of their guns signaling empty chargers. Without thinking you started to shoot at them, trying to be as accurate as possible but the wound on your arm made you sloppy. Ducking to avoid a new wave of bullets, you tried to analyze the situation once again; but a roar interrupted everything, making the thugs and you turn to the sound. A bony, rabid, creature jumped over the counter claws out and mouth salivating with rage. The globulous, feral eyes burned his furious madness and if you hadn’t seen pictures of the Hyde before, you couldn’t have recognized Tyler. Because there was nothing much left of him now. Only the mindless, blood-thirsty creature remained, with his backbone popping under the gray skin.

A whisper of his name left your lips but the way he jumped on the man laying on the floor and slashed him open with a single swing of his claws threw the reality in your face like a slap. A guttural roar tore itself from the creature’s throat as he lashed out on the mercenary. The horror made his partners freeze on their spot, long enough for you to regain your spirits and shoot again. Several bullets landed on their chests, hitting them full force and sending them flowing backwards, crashing on the tables.

A sigh of relief left your lips and for a slip of second you foolishly thought it was over. A low, menacing growl erupted from behind and you whipped around, gun cocked. The face of the Hyde flashed in front of you, mouth foaming and teeth bared. You could even feel the warm, blood-filled breath against your face. The barrel of your gun was almost pressed against his forehead, the shot was easy, clear, just there. Everything in you screamed to press the trigger; your training, your family, survival instinct. But a handful seconds of hesitation, muscles still tensed yet unable to move; it was already a mistake, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

A whistle pierced the air and a red spot landed on the creature’s shoulder. He roared in pain, a menacing claw clutching the area before he started to sway groggily, round eyes fluttering under the weight of grounding sleep. He vacillated once, twice, and crashed on the floor loudly. A few seconds after, his body slowly morphed back into his human form, naked and bruised on the tiles. All of that under your helpless gaze, lowering your guns in slow motion.

-POLICE, PUT DOWN YOUR WEAPON!

The booming voice in the microphone snapped you out of your thoughts and you turned your head to the broken window. Six police cars surrounded the coffee shop, their teams all pointing their guns at you. Among them, you noticed one of the policemen holding a long-shot rifle. Glancing back to Tyler you understood that he had just been sedated. This should have been a relief; but as the terrified customers gradually looked up, whispering among themselves about what happened, and the police forces started to fill in, you realized something. Everyone had their eyes set on you. They all saw that; your hesitation had only lasted a second, maybe two, but they had seen you. They had witnessed you being unable to pull the trigger at a dangerous monster, unable to do your mission.

They had all seen you fail.

The weight of the tension in the office was almost unbearable. On any other occasion you would have found it mildly uncomfortable and would have worn your sarcasm like a deflective armor, but now you were far too ashamed to play cocky. Instead you fiddled with the hem of your sleeve; shame you hadn’t worn your uniform, it would have been torn into shred and coated with blood instead of that shirt.

Just after the police showed up, they wasted no time cuffing you and putting you into a car; before Principal Weems stormed on the crime scene and hissed at the sheriff that it was some of her students and that your place was in Nevermore. Luckily for you, none of the police officers protested and as an ambulance carried an unconscious Tyler, you had gone back to the school with the furious headmistress. Strangely enough, some of the customers had grasped your hand and bid their thanks between nervous cries, even the rude barista you had roasted a few months ago. Guess saving them from an attack made you a better person in their eyes, or else you would already be in jail instead of Weems’ office.

Principal Weems slammed the desk phone on its socle, furiously exhaling through her nostrils.

“The Police have retrieved the bodies of the attackers but no identification so far,” she said bitterly. “Still no names of your victims Miss Van Helsing.”

“I defended myself,” you countered sharply, “and all the customers in the coffee shop. What did you expect me to do? Sit around and wait to be shot?”

She pursed her lips, unamused by your response, “It wasn’t your place to take action, the police and the judge won’t be pleased.”

“Yes it was,” you snapped, “what do you think would have happened if I hadn’t been here? You’d have a Hyde running free and more than four corpses out there. I killed those guys in self-defense because it was them or everyone else in that shop.”

“Except you failed,” retorted Weems coldly, and her harsh tone made you flinch. “Didn’t you? Mr Galpin still turned into the Hyde, while your mission was precisely to prevent that and the corpse he slashed open.”

Eyes darkening you looked away in shame. You knew that you had failed in your mission; you shouldn’t have hesitated a second and pulled the trigger on the spot at the Hyde appearance. Those hadn’t been silver bullets, it wouldn’t have harmed him, just make him dizzy enough to neutralize him with your blade. But in the face of danger, when all logic screamed at you to pull the trigger you didn’t do it. And you couldn’t explain why your mind had decided to freeze instead of doing your duty. Or better, yes you knew, a part of you suspected you did; but there was no way you’d admit it out loud, you didn’t owe Weems anything.

The Principal narrowed her eyes at your ashamed unexpected reaction. “You didn’t honor your mission.”

At her insistence you clicked your tongue in annoyance, “These weren’t silver bullets, it would have only angered the Hyde even more. It would have been risky and stupid.”

“It was your job,” she repeated, “and why didn’t you have your gun?”

“Now you want me to have it?” you snickered bitterly, and Weems was quick to send you another glare.

“Don’t play smart with me, Miss Van Helsing. You’re in serious trouble.”

That made you snap in anger, “Oh so I am in trouble for neutralizing four armed people who had taken hostages and shooted at civilians? Big fucking time! What were they even doing in Jericho in the first place?”

“This is not the matter!” screamed back the Principal, her final string of patience finally snapping. The way she had shouted at you surprised you so much you felt your anger immediately vanish. Seeing you backing off, Weems exhaled loudly, trying to keep a semblance of composure before carrying on, “An investigation will be led by the police,” she said more calmly but still on edge, “but you will return in juvie regardless of the outcomes. I’ll make sure of that.”

You felt your jaw fall off, “What! Why?”

A part of her could understand your reaction, but Principal Weems’ nerves had been on too much edge for the past hours she only pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance, “Because you were a student under my responsibility and a dozen of normies saw you shooting at one of them, that’s why. No need to argue,” she cut you off before you could even open your mouth, “I’ve made my decision, I’ll call the school board tonight. You can start to pack your things right away.”

"This…this is unfair!" you protested despite the fatigue screaming in your limbs; you hadn't had time to properly dress your minor injuries or god forbid, take a rest. "Who are you protecting by doing this, uh?"

"I'm protecting this school," she spat venomously, "and all the students in it. Normies will not let that slide, and I won't let them shut down Nevermore because I didn't take action."

"And what will happen to Tyler?" you retorted, an underlying worry in your voice, "What will the normies think if you pushed away someone capable of keeping him in check?"

To your surprise, Larissa Weems snorted, "Like you did today?"

A fed up roll of eyes was your answer, "We were attacked. I asked him to stay put to avoid more damage and trust me those mercenaries wouldn't have been the only corpses if I hadn't been there to keep Tyler at a distance."

The principal kept glaring at you but it was clear that your words had touched something. You could almost see the clogs in her head turning. Sighing heavily under the weight of exhaustion, you approached her desk slowly, hoping to show a more friendly behavior. All you wanted was to go to sleep, honestly.

"Look, if normies or police thought I did something wrong, they would have asked for my head already ; and I have no doubt the school board would have gladly offered them on a silver platter. But," you sighed heavily, knowing you had Weems' full attention, "you can't put me back in juvie. Not when I did a good job so far at keeping your most sensitive student at bay. It wouldn't be a smart move."

Weems seemed almost convinced, but something still bothered her, "I still can't let you walk away from this. None of you."

"You can," you assured, looking at her dead in the eye, "and you will. If you've ever wished to protect the students of this school, you'll give me another chance."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because Tyler and I are still outcasts," you deadpanned firmly. "You had sworn to protect the people in that school; we're still your students, Principal Weems. Please. You have to trust me on this one."

A long second passed. Then Weems sighed.

“Can you really contain him? With therapy sessions and everything?”

You nodded slowly, “I promise today had been an accident, strictly triggered by the attack of those men. Ask other students, Ajax, Enid, hell even Xavier or Wednesday; Tyler’s not a menace on his own to the students, not when he’s with me. Please, let us stay in Nevermore.”

A slight amused smirk grew on Weems’ face, “I can’t say I’m not surprised by this sudden affection for this school…nor for Mister Galpin.”

Turning away, you tried to hide the blush creeping on your cheeks, “We’re friends,” you mumbled. Weems arched an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Friends, uh?”. The glare you sent was enough to move to drop the subject, but didn’t lose her amused smirk. “I must admit that you’re right, Miss Van Helsing. You are a student of Nevermore. And as the headmistress, it is indeed my job to protect outcasts. Fine,” she said after a few seconds of silence, “I won’t expel you. And I’ll defend you and Mister Galpin, should the police come after him.”

“Will they?” you asked with underlying concern.

“Unlikely,” she assured, “I doubt Sheriff Galpin will arrest his son again. If the witnesses confirm what you did, with my word you two won’t be bothered by this accident.”

“What about the board?”

Weems waved it off, “They need my voice to expel a student. It won’t happen.”

“Thank you,” you muttered a bit perplexed, but more relieved than anything.

“You reminded me of why I’m doing this job,” simply said the Principal, “we’re even Miss Van Helsing. Now if you’ll excuse me, this has been a long day for everyone and I’d like to sleep at least ten minutes before having another call from the police or the board.”

Needless to say you didn’t protest and wasted no time rushing out of the office. As soon as you turned on the first corner, you let your back hit the wall and slumped against it. A deep breath escaped your lungs. All the adrenaline and tension the day had thrown at you finally sinked in, ragged breaths coming out from your lips. What a bloody mess this day had been. From the open hearted therapy session to the attack at the Weathervane and the tense meeting with Weems. This morning you were still a random student still tired from the party the night before, then without a warning you had shot down four men, and almost got yourself sent back to prison again. A goddamn drink, three whole days of sleep and the medal of patience, that’s what you needed.

A sting on your arm reminded you of the injury from before. You glanced down to where the bullet had grazed you; it had felt numb ever since you had left Jericho and you had almost forgotten about it. There would probably be another wound where your head had bumped against the mirror and various cuts, maybe you should dress all of that no matter how minor it was. At this already late hour of the night, no one would be at the infirmary but you could handle this on your own. Going back on your tracks, you quickly took the way to the infirmary, only meeting silence in the hallways.

As expected, the office was empty; maybe it was for the best. Just when you grabbed some disinfectant and fresh bandages you noticed a laying form on a bed and you stopped dead in your tracks. Those brown curls and scars-tainted freckles were unmistakable. Your legs carried you on their own, like pulled by an unknown force to the laying body of Tyler on the infirmary bed. On the pale sheets, he looked almost harmless; but the glint of silver cuffs around his wrists tying him on the bed told otherwise. It saddened you as much as it angered you. Not only they had shot him with some hell of a sedative – probably enough to put a whole pack of grown berserkers to sleep – but they handcuffed him to the bed like a rabid animal. Like he could do anything in his current state. After a quick look over him you sighed in relief when no apparent injuries were to be seen. Weems must have made him be repatriated in Nevermore at the same time as you. Sitting on the bed next to Tyler, you sighed heavily.

“What a day uh, pretty boy?” you whispered, looking at him with a weak smile. Tyler couldn’t hear you, but it felt nice to talk to him anyway. “Guess we saved the day you and I, even if no one will ever admit it.”

Getting another sight of the cuffs, you rolled your eyes and looked around for a key. Luckily, whoever had been here last had dropped it on a nearby bed table.

“What were they thinking by cuffing you,” you sighed, unlocking the restrains one after the other, “what a dumb fucking idea.”

A sudden groan rose from the bed and you whipped your head to Tyler’s face. Eyebrows knitting together, he winced slightly. “I s’cond tha’,” he rasped in a weak voice, a lazy grin awkwardly stretching his lips, “ ‘tis is a bad idea.”

You choked on a sob through a bewildered smile, “Yeah, definitely.”

Struggling to open his eyes, Tyler looked down groggily at his wrist and chuckled, “Bondage? Y’re gettin’ kinky, doll.”

You broke into a light laugh, tears pricking the corners of your eyes; you hadn’t realized it before, but you were so glad Tyler had woken up unharmed. He didn’t lose his sloppy grin, and you could see that his mind was still highly fogged by the anesthetic.

“Wh’t happ’nd?” he slurred weakly.

“Some jerks started to shoot,” you said softly, trying to be as soothing as you could. “ Someone shot you. They’re dead now.”

He nodded groggily, trying hard to pick pieces of what happened. “I transf’med didn’ I?”

At first, you wondered if you should lie to him. Then you decided against it; it wouldn’t do him anything good. “Yeah,” you nodded, “but you didn’t hurt any civilians. You’re good, tiger.”

His eyes trailed on your body and he frowned at your bandaged arm. When he slowly brought up numb fingers to reach it, you followed his gesture and gently grasped his hand. “It’s nothing,” you reassured him, “just a bullet graze.”

He didn’t look less worried; but again, the anesthetic was still quite strong in his blood. “ ‘n then?”

You swallowed hard, “It wasn’t pretty. Weems wanted to expel me on the spot for being unable to stop you from transforming. Turns out she has a soft heart, she won’t do anything.”

Again, Tyler frowned, “W’dyou mean?”

His eyelids started to feel more heavy, and he could feel himself slip back into the depth of unconsciousness again. You felt your heart soar at the mere sight of him, alive and well in this bed. Nothing could compare to this; being with him, knowing he was unharmed, and that thanks to each other you had unknowingly saved yourselves. All the things you had said earlier came back into mind, and so did the dozens of questions that had run in your mind after the attack at the coffee. You had spent so much time, either with that gun in hand or after, ressassing every single moment to try to understand why you hadn’t pulled the trigger despite your own reason for existing. The reason you hadn’t killed that monster. Because you hadn’t seen a monster then; because you couldn’t see a monster then. Because even if you had said you didn’t know how to love Tyler, your heart already knew. And your heart had already made its choice.

Cradling his cheek fondly, you gave him a weak smile.

“Don’t worry pretty boy,” you whispered as he drifted back to sleep, “we’re okay. We’re both okay now.”

[Part.8]

A/N: I take a lot of inspiration for monster hunting and bestiary from my favorite universe ever aka the Witcher (which is already inspired by many actual myths). There I mentioned briefly berserkers, bestial warriors from norse mythology who can turn into beasts (usually bears of wolves).

Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist:

@igotanidea @officerrrfriendly @beggingforxavierthorpe @aliciahlewis @stresseyzesty @katiemrty @leightonsteele @black-swan-blog27 @mooniesthings @nightfurya @steadypoetrydinosaur @hellok1ttycupcake

Usernames unfound by Tumblr:

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Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

#tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin fanfic #tyler galpin angst #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #Van Helsing! Reader #no beta we die like men

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