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wrongplacerighttime · 5 months

Text

right where you left me

hi!! this one was…..a lot. it’s heartbreaking and angsty and sad…however (!!!) has a happy ending and i had the BEST time writing it. i think i went through 8,000 emotions in the process.

tw: smut!!!, mentions of alcohol use, sad harry, sad fmc, post-break up, mentions death of parent(s), the very taboo subject of cheating (please if this is not something you're comfortable with don't read this. i write for me and others who like these things, however I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable, but i enjoyed writing this and I hope others do too!!), (as always lemme know if i missed any)

wc: ………..13k.......IM SORRY. I thought about splitting it up into two or three parts but couldn't find a good place to split it up. so instead you just get one loonnnngggg fic lmaooo

this is my first time attempting to write something from third person POV. please let me know what you think and if you read this entire self indulgent story then i love youuuu so much. 🩷

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 𖥸· ─────── · ·

BRYAR

The silence of the apartment rings through Bryar’s ears. She wipes the tears staining her cheeks and stands from the bed, padding through the hallway to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, squinting as she does, her gaze travels to meet her own eyes in the mirror. Her eyes are sensitive from laying in the dark, and the crying she's been doing for the past four days doesn't help her appearance either. Sighing, her breath feeling heavy in her lungs, she tosses around the idea of finally taking a shower while staring at her disheveled hair.

The memory of checking the time is already gone from her mind but she remembers that it’s late. She looks at herself in the mirror for a moment longer. Eyes trailing from the circles under them up to her messy hair on top of her head. Part of her mind is contemplating whether or not she should’ve left the only man she’s ever loved. The other part of her mind knows she needed to because he never changed, nothing ever changed like he promised it would. However, she knew she would never love anyone that intensely ever again. Her eyes meet her own once more, and she lets her mind wander to the moment it all came to its tumultuous end

—

Bryar is standing in the middle of Harry’s apartment, her bag packed and hanging from her shoulder. She was dressed in the same outfit she waited all night for him in, the one she had carefully planned out for this day, the day he promised that he would be entirely hers, no interruptions. It was her birthday, after all. They were supposed to go to dinner. She waited all day for him at his place. He never showed. Never texted. Never called. She knew it would happen. It happened a lot recently. Things used to be so different. It never used to be this way. She never had to beg him for his attention before.

She knew he’d be coming home any second. It was late… a few minutes after midnight, the usual time he would come home from the bar he went to with his friends. The reservation they had at a restaurant in town was long forgotten. She called to cancel it after he didn’t come home. She didn’t move from her spot in front of the door. Not even when she heard the keys jingling in the lock. He swung the door open, his phone to his ear and laughing loudly at whoever he was speaking to on the other end. He was looking towards the floor, but when he noticed her there, with the bag hanging from her shoulder and the animosity behind her eyes, he stopped talking. Stopped everything. He didn’t even say goodbye to his friend, just hung up and put his phone away into his pocket.

“Bry, what are you doing?” He asked, confused. She scoffs, shaking her head and looking away from him into the apartment she knew she would be seeing for the last time.

“You forgot. Again.” she crosses her arms over her chest, biting the inside of her lip to keep herself from crying. Her chest was moving up and down rapidly. He looks at her for a moment…taking in her appearance, the way she was dressed…then he realizes. His eyes grow wide and he shakes his head slightly.

“Baby…I am so sorry. We were supposed to go out tonight. It must have slipped my mind, I’ve been so—” She cuts him off.

“You’ve been so busy. Yeah, I know. That’s what you say every fucking time, Harry.” She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I can’t keep doing this. I’m sorry. I just need to leave.” She puts her hands out in front of her, not wanting him to come closer to her.

“Okay…I understand." He says, not necessarily wanting to let her go when she feels this way. However, he understands that she's upset and doesn't want to be around him. "Do you want to do something tomorrow instead, it’s Saturday and—” Again, she doesn’t let him finish.

“No, Harry. I’m leaving you.” She sneers and he visibly flinches at her words. He shakes his head again.

“W-what?” He stutters, his eyes growing wider as he takes a step towards her. She ducks around him to the door, and he grabs her arm, forcing her to spin around and face him. Her eyes are angry and filled with tears, hating how her body betrays her like this when she’s upset.

“I can’t keep doing this. It’s been this way for a while, H. We make plans and you forget. I don’t know what’s more important than me but—” It’s his turn to interrupt her now.

“Nothing is more important to me than you.” His tone was firm, and he meant it. To him, he was telling nothing but the truth. He looks down at her, searching her eyes. He grabs her chin between his thumb and index finger and she jerks away from his touch. A look of hurt crosses his features as she steps back, putting distance between them. He had never intended for this to happen. He doesn’t even know how he allowed something this important to slip his mind. She had never shied away from him like this, never dodged his touch like it would burn her if he got too close.

“It doesn’t seem like it.” she whispers. “It’s my birthday, and you forgot.” Her voice trembles with the words.

“Bryar. Baby, please. Don’t do this. I’m sorry, so unbelievably sorry.” He falls to his knees in front of her, capturing her hands between his own. “Don’t leave. I know this is unforgivable, but please don’t leave.” he begs, literally on his knees for her, his voice quieter and full of more pain than she’s ever heard. She resists the urge to pull her hands away from him, wanting nothing more than for his touch to be comforting like it used to be, but now it just feels dirty.

“Harry…please.” She whispers, begging him to let her go. He looks up at her, his eyes flit around her face. He brings her hands to his mouth and kisses her knuckles, shaking his head once, eyes brimming with tears.

“I’ll change. I can change.” He stammers, and she shakes her head, swallowing the knot forming in her throat.

“I want to believe you…but I can’t sit around and wait for you to change anymore.” She gives him a somber look, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes as well. “I really wanted this to work. I just don’t think it’s going to.” She turns her back to him, walking towards the door of his apartment. She doesn’t look back. If she looks back she knows she’ll run to him and apologize for even thinking about leaving him.

Once in the hallway, she leans against the door, sobbing quietly into her hands, knowing this was for the best…but realizing that doesn’t make it hurt any less. On the other side of the door, Harry leans his forehead against the wood, his shoulders shaking from the sobs wracking his body. He stood from the floor and ran towards her as she left, but the door slamming in his face kept him from running after her. It all ended so quickly. He didn’t expect any of it, didn’t expect his entire future to collapse with the slam of the door.

—

Bryar shakes her head as if the memory will crumble and the pieces will become lost in the corners of her mind. She shoves it behind the metaphorical door, the one she reserved for the memories of him. She sniffles once and walks to the shower, turning the knob to a temperature that will hopefully wash away the bad memory. Standing under the shower head, she lets the water run over her face, closing her eyes and leaning against the wall. The amount of energy it sucks from her is tenfold. Quickly washing her hair and body, she rinses the suds away and steps out, wrapping the towel tightly as the cold air comes rushing in and creates goosebumps on her skin. She wishes that the memories of him could be washed away that easily, down the drain with the tears she shed for him.

Standing at the sink again, she glances up at the mirror. Her appearance is…better. Still, her cheeks are hollow and the bags under her eyes are a deep shade of purple. She brushes her hair, her teeth, and throws a t-shirt over her head, one that smells like him, making her way back to her room. The bed still has a lingering heat from her body, the sheets soft on her clean skin. She pulls the comforter up to her nose and pulls her knees to her chest. Sighing, her eyes feel heavy, and she drifts to sleep, knowing her dreams will be filled with the memory of him, the future she always imagined with Harry nothing more than a failed plan.

Hopefully tomorrow will be better, though she had a feeling this pain would last a lifetime.

—

Four Years Later

It’s been nearly four years. Bryar has moved on…or so she likes to believe. She never thought trying to forget him would be this hard. She tells herself she doesn’t think about Harry all that much anymore...but that’s the biggest lie of the century. She still sees his face on every passerby on the street, she’s convinced she smells his cologne everywhere. She plays pretend, pushing the memories of him away, locking them up behind a wall in her mind. If she continues to tell herself that she’s moved on, that she’s happy…maybe one day it’ll be the truth. The truth is that he fucked her up forever. Every corner of her apartment still reminds her of him, even after she tucked all the memories in a box and shoved it in the back of her closet.

“Baby, have you seen my tie?” Sam, her boyfriend, comes striding into the room. She sucks in a breath, his voice pulling her from her mind. She half smiles, and he pulls her to his chest in a tight hug. “You look stunning.” He whispers into her hair and she smiles. Sam has been there for her for the past two years, giving her a hope she didn’t realize she needed. They met at work, and from there the rest is really history.

“Sorry, no. I haven’t seen it.” She wraps her arms around his waist, squeezing and breathing in his cologne. She turns back towards the mirror, pushing an earring into her ear and smoothing her dress with her hands. “I’m pretty much ready though, I can help you look.” She leans her back against his chest, staring at him through the mirror as he runs his hands down her arms. They have an invitation to attend the wedding of a couple of Bryar’s friends. It’s been awhile, and she hadn’t seen Celia since right after Christmas a couple of years ago when she brought Derek home to meet her friends and family. Life got busy, Bryar got a new job, Celia moved across the country, and things just never seemed to work out when they came to town. Luckily, Derek agreed on a wedding close to Celia’s hometown, and when Bryar got the invitation she was over the moon.

Bryar walked out of the bedroom and through the hallway and to the living room, searching every surface in between for Sam’s tie, her eyebrows knitting together when she can’t find it, either. She swore she had seen it on the coffee table. She kneels on the floor, peeking under the couch. Perhaps it fell onto the floor and got kicked under there. She spots the shade of maroon that matches her dress, reaching under, saving it from the dust bunnies living under there. The light catches something when she moves the tie and she squints, only able to make out the shape of a square. She reaches under again, feeling around for the object and when her fingers graze the cool surface, she slides it out. The back of a polaroid picture stares back at her, and she’s not really sure where it came from.

She flips it over, her breath catching in her throat. Looking back at her from the little square, is Harry. He’s laughing and sticking his tongue out, and she is in the picture too. Laughing with her eyes squeezed shut, head leaned over on Harry’s shoulder. They looked so happy. She brings her hand to her mouth in surprise and she just stares at the picture. The memory of the night it was taken comes flooding back to her, hitting her like a sucker punch that steals the breath from her lungs.

—

SIX YEARS AGO

The cheap bottle of white wine on the table had just a sliver left in it. Bryar’s glass was nearing empty and Harry’s was still half full from the first pour. He had abandoned it about an hour ago for something stronger, he said.

They were sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, a vinyl spinning quietly on the record player across the room. Harry stands, making his way towards the shelf to switch it out for something different. Bryar watches as he crosses the room, bringing his glass to her lips and claiming it as hers.

“Why are we even sitting on the floor?” She asks, slightly slurring her words while a laugh escapes into her glass. She looks around, the room spinning slightly, effects of the entire bottle of wine she drank hitting her almost all at once. Harry looks at her over his shoulder, smirking.

“I don’t know. I think we were going to do a puzzle or something and then we started talking and forgot.” He mutters, looking through the old records to play trying to choose one he thought she would be in the mood to listen to. Bryar had pulled out an old photo album, the one that somehow survived the fire that her parents did not. She told him memories from her childhood, ones that were clear and the ones that were a bit fuzzy around the edges. She was beginning to forget the way her mother’s voice sounded and the way her dad’s hand felt in hers, his scars she would run her fingers over while her little brain would ask how he got them. Harry finally chooses a record and smiles to himself, carefully putting it on the turntable and setting the needle to the eighth song on the track list. He saw the longing in her eyes when she spoke of them, wishing he could take her pain and wrap it in barbed wire so it couldn’t escape and hurt her any longer. Bryar hears the opening notes of the song from the guitar playing through the speakers. She smiles at him and narrows her eyes.

“Really?” She asks as he saunters back over to her.

“What? Don’t wanna listen to Dan Fogelberg?” He teases and she shakes her head.

“Not that. Just funny that you picked this song.” She states as he sits down next to her again on the floor. She listens as the lyrics of the song Longer play through the speakers. He tilts his head, his eyes sparkling in the dim lighting of her apartment. He waits for her to tell him more. “It was my parents' wedding song, that’s all.” she shrugs and he pulls her into his side. She sighs, leaning over on his shoulder and he kisses the top of her head.

“Maybe it could be our wedding song one day, too.” He mumbles against her hair and she smiles. “I wish I could’ve met them.” He whispers to her.

“Maybe.” she whispers back. “I wish you could have met them, too.” She says, her mind beginning to go down the road of “what-ifs”.

Harry reaches forward, opening the drawer of the coffee table and rummaging through her things that have collected in the drawer over time, little trinkets and pens and post-it notes. Bryar giggles while watching him, and he reaches further into the drawer and pulls out her old polaroid camera.

“Wanna take a picture?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows and she laughs.

“I’d love to but that thing is probably dead and the film probably isn’t any good.” She grumbles. “I couldn’t tell you the last time I used it.”

“Well let’s see…” He mutters, flipping the switch on the top. The light turns green and he glances up at her, smirking. He brings it up to his face, looking through the viewfinder. “Smile.” He says in a singsong tone. Bryar gives him a cheesy smile, and the flash goes off with a click of the button. The camera spits out a square film and Harry pulls it out and sets it on the table. She leans her head on his shoulder again, sighing. He holds the camera out in front of them, and starts singing the lyrics to the song playing in a silky voice, trying to imitate Dan Fogelberg and this makes her laugh. She falls into a fit of giggles from his singing and the amount of alcohol she’s consumed, and he smiles, sticking his tongue out and snaps another picture, the moment they’re in right now permanently etched into time. Once her laughing subsides she looks up at him through her lashes. He brings his face down and touches his forehead to hers.

“I love you.” She whispers.

“I love you more.” He whispers back, kissing her softly.

—

“Bryar, did you find my tie?” Sam yells down the hall, pulling her from her memory. She wipes the single tear that fell down her cheek quickly before standing and tucking the picture into the coffee table drawer. She makes her way back to the bedroom, tie in hand. Sam is standing in front of the full length mirror, buttoning his white shirt. She holds it out, wiggling it in his face, his icy blue eyes narrow at her and he smirks.

“You’re amazing. Where was it?” He asks, plucking it from her hand and situating it around his neck.

“Under the couch. Must have fallen and gotten kicked under there.” She states while making her way to her closet to retrieve her shoes. Carrying them by the straps to the bed, she sits, crossing her leg to slip on the first and fasten it. She repeats the action with the other at the same moment Sam finishes tying his tie. She stands, walking across the room and grabbing his jacket. She stands behind him, holding it out for him to slide his arms in the sleeves. He smiles softly at her through the mirror.

“Ready?” he asks, spinning around on his heel and pulling her into him. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to meet hers. He kisses her softly, lightly ghosting his lips over hers. She smiles against his mouth, her nose brushing against his. She nods, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the room before they don’t make it out the door.

The drive to the wedding venue isn’t long, but it’s not short either. She sits in the passenger seat of Sam’s car, his hand resting comfortably on her thigh that’s exposed from the slit in her dress. The radio is playing quietly, the silence between them comfortable. She watches the scenery out the window, thinking of her parents and admiring the beginning of the leaves changing colors. Autumn was always her mothers favorite season. Celia picked the perfect time to get married, like Bryar knew she would. Celia was a bit of a perfectionist, in the best way. Bryar was sure she must have researched when the trees would be at their peak vibrancy for the most perfect fall wedding, and autumn has had always held significance to Bryar since losing her mom, feeling her presence with her the most during this time of year.

“Bry?” Sam says her name while clearing his throat, pulling her from her thoughts for the second time today. She turns her head towards him, watching as he keeps his eyes on the road. Her heart squeezes a little every time he calls her by the same nickname that Harry always did. She never had the heart to ask him to call her anything else. It is just a nickname, after all. However, it never sounds quite right coming from between Sam’s lips.

“Hm?” She hums, grabbing his hand and squeezing. He squeezes her thigh in response.

“I love you.” He says, tilting his head towards her and glancing at her for a quick second. He smiles, and she smiles back, dropping her gaze to their hands together. She hadn’t told him about her parent’s yet, the timing never felt right. She makes a mental note to talk to him about it soon.

“I love you.” She says quietly, returning her gaze to the window. Does she? If she loved him her mind wouldn't keep drifting to her past and comparing him to Harry. She would open up to him more, right? It's not that she doesn't trust him, he just seems to brush her off sometimes. She feels guilty.

“Something on your mind? You’re awfully quiet.” He teases her, she shakes her head.

“No. Just admiring the view.” She reassures him.

The rest of the drive is quiet. They pull down a long gravel road towards the extravagant wedding venue. Bryar’s mouth drops open and her eyes widen when she realizes how big the building actually is. She looked up pictures, of course. However, the pictures didn’t do this place justice. The windows are tall, glass, floor-to-ceiling and framed in black. The bright white walls stand out against the red and orange and yellow trees surrounding it. It’s evening, the sun setting in the distance creating a perfect golden hue over the property. Sam pulls the car into a parking spot and quickly steps out, striding to Bryar’s side and opening her door for her. He reaches his hand down for her to take for balance as her heels meet the uneven gravel. She grabs it, swinging her legs out of the car and standing, smoothing the wrinkles of her dress down. They walk into the venue, arms linked together. The ceremony doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, but they’re serving champagne. Bryar and Sam make their way to the bar, grabbing two glasses, she looks upward taking in the high vaulted ceilings along the way. After they secure two glasses in their hands, she spots a group of people she knows across the room and they make their way over to them.

They mingle with her friends, ones she hasn’t seen in quite some time. She introduces Sam to them, and the men fall into conversations of sports teams and work while the women are talking about the books they’re reading recently or the shows they’ve been watching. Some talk of work, what the next fiscal year will bring their companies and how successful they were throughout this year. Bryar smiles, sipping from her glass while watching Sam get along with the people she used all to spend all of her time with.

Out of no where, the air in the room shifts, making Bryar feel uneasy. She’s not quite sure why this feeling suddenly hit her, maybe the open doors are bringing in a chill. She looks around, eyes flitting across the room at the groups of people mingling, spotting Celia’s mother and they lock eyes. Bryar gives her a smile and a small wave, making plans to go and speak to her. Glancing around again, she quickly catches what appears to be a head of brown curls that she’s all too familiar with and her stomach drops. Before she can confirm if it really is who she thinks it is, they disappear around a corner and are out of her sight.

It couldn’t be him, right? These were her friends, not his. He didn’t really know Celia that well, right? Celia wouldn't have invited him knowing Bryar's history with him, would she?

She feels a hand on the small of her back, snapping her from her panic. She turns her head to see Sam standing beside her. Her eyes soften and she forces a smile onto her face, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Two lines form between his eyebrows as he pulls them together, concerned.

“Hey, are you okay? You look pale, like you saw a ghost.” He asks, leaning down to whisper into her ear. She pulls back, looking him in the eyes again and nodding once.

“Yeah…I’m fine.” She lies. She would know Harry anywhere. Even out of all the people she’s mistaken for him on the street, she figured out quickly it was never him. But she knew that was him. She had memorized the way his hair laid on his head and the way he moved through a room ten times over. It was etched into her memory. Her eyes flit across the room once more, feeling the anxiety and dread creeping into the pit of her stomach. Sam’s voice pulls her back down to earth for the second time in less than five minutes. She has got to get it together.

“I think it’s time for us to find our seats.” Sam mutters under his breath and Bryar nods again, tipping her glass up and downing the rest of her champagne. Her eyes scan the crowd, looking for Harry again, just to be sure...but there’s so many people and she’s not any taller than Sam, who can see over most of the crowd himself. She chews on the inside of her lip, the metallic taste of her own blood touching her tongue. She mentally curses herself, tearing the skin from between her teeth and trying to remind herself to not do it again.

Sam finds a seat right in the middle of the row of chairs a little further back, they could see the altar from here and not have to worry about being in anyone’s way. Bryar’s heart beats quickly in her chest, feeling her body temperature rise as she searches the room.

It wasn’t this hot before, was it?

Her heart stops, her breathing stops, her vision goes blurry. It’s as if her chest has caved in on her. Because there, across the room with someone that’s the complete opposite of her, is Harry.

She can’t tear her gaze away. It's a cruel form of self sabotage, wanting to look away but forcing herself to watch the way he leans into her and whispers in her ear. The woman's head turns to look at him and she’s smiling, and it gives away the one thing she didn’t want to accept, because Bryar used to look at him exactly the same way. They aren’t just friends, he brought her with him as his date. Bryar tears her eyes from the unknown girl and her breath catches in her throat when she looks at Harry. He’s changed. His face is broader, more defined with a hint of stubble growing. He’s grinning down at his date, before planting a small kiss to her temple and Bryar feels her heart breaking. The room is too hot. She feels dizzy. She stands abruptly, looking down at Sam, who’s looking up at her with confusion for what feels like the hundredth time since they left the apartment.

She has to get out of here, preferably before her lunch ends up on the floor in front of her.

“I’m sorry. I have to…I need to…” She can’t seem to get the words out. “Bathroom.” Is all she successfully says. She doesn’t wait for him to reply. She steps around other people in the row, and when she’s free from the confines of the chairs, she practically breaks out into a sprint. She quickly covers her mouth, feeling the nausea setting in before she’s thrown into another memory of Harry.

—

SIX YEARS AGO

The streetlights cast shadows around the darkened room, the rain pattering on the window. Harry’s hand trails down Bryar’s exposed back, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She sighs with content, her eyes drifting closed. She would stay like this forever if she could…she’d give up everything to be here with him always. He was her forever. She knew that. He knew that, too. He never wanted to be anywhere else.

“Hey…” he whispers, trying to get her attention. Her eyes flutter open, the exhaustion showing on her face, but the good kind. She smiles tiredly at him. He brings his hand up, brushing the strands of auburn hair out of her face and running the backs of his fingers down her cheek. Her heart feels like it’s bursting with love for him and can’t hold any more than it already does. However, every day, he does something to prove that she somehow can love him more than the day before. He smiles, tracing over every feature of her face with his gaze. There was nothing that could make her stop loving him, she knows that.

“I really love you, you know?” She says, and his grin widens. Trailing his hand to the back of her neck, he pulls her closer to him, their bodies meshing together like they were made only for each other. He fists her hair at the nape of her neck, pulling slightly to tilt her head upwards to him. He captures her lips with his, kissing her in a way that makes her belly do somersaults, the butterflies feeling more like a stampede. She could never get used to the way he kisses her. Always like it’ll be the last. He pulls away and brings his forehead to hers, nudging his nose against hers.

“I love you.” He says, looking into her eyes the best he can being so close. “You’re it for me, Bry. You’ll always be.” She blushes, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. He turns his head slightly, kissing her temple with such gentleness it makes her heart flutter. “My sweet girl.” He mutters against her skin. His hand runs down her hair flowing behind her on the bed, twisting a strand around his finger before she feels herself slipping into sleep.

“Stay with me forever?” She whispers, so quietly she’s not even sure he heard, not even sure she spoke it...maybe she only thought it in her tired mind. Her consciousness drifting slowly, sleep threatening to pull her under.

And for a moment, he pauses. He wanted nothing more than to spend forever with her. He would cross every ocean if it meant he had her always. He feels her muscles relax, her breathing beginning to steady. He’s sure she’s asleep. He’s careful not to wake her. He closes his eyes, preparing to fall asleep as well as he squeezes her against him, trying somehow to get her closer. She feels him, all of him, his warmth consumes her. Somewhere in the distance she hears him, just barely.

“Forever.” he whispers back to her.

—

Bryar shoves her way into the bathroom, the door swinging shut behind her. She grasps the marble countertop, the cold surface stinging her hands and bringing her back to reality. Her breathing is sharp, stinging her lungs with every breath. She quickly makes her way into a stall, bracing against the wall for support, convinced she was going to empty her stomach contents in a matter of seconds. She still feels dizzy. It wasn’t Bryar beside him, and it never would be her again. She leans against the wall of the bathroom, the cool tile soothing her rising body temperature. She feels clammy, sweat forming at her hairline.

This was the worst possible outcome. She wasn’t expecting him to be here at all, not even a warning from Celia. She can’t go back out there. She can’t watch him dote on the girl he brought. Can’t watch him kiss her temple like he used to do with her, the one gesture he reserved for her and only her, the one that used to make her heart soar, the one smallest gesture just happened to be the one that Bryar has felt homesick for since the day she left. She only has a few minutes before the ceremony starts. She can’t miss Celia walking down the aisle or she’ll never forgive herself.

She straightens, taking in a long breath before drawing it back out. She goes back out to the mirror, staring at herself. Her chest is blotchy from the anxiety she’s feeling. The nervousness takes over, but she pushes through it. Her hands are shaky as she reaches for the door handle.

Bryar makes her way back to her seat by Sam. He cocks an eyebrow at her and she smiles nervously. As she sits he turns his body towards her.

“Seriously Bry, what is going on?” He asks, concern lacing his question. She waves her hand at him, dismissing him.

“Just the champagne hitting me I think.” She lies and Sam doesn’t believe her for a second. Something is going on, something he doesn’t know about. His eyes search the room but he doesn’t see anyone familiar. He watches her, she keeps her gaze towards the floor, picking nervously at her nails and his eyes narrow. She glances up and across the room. He discreetly follows her eyes, looking the same direction and seeing a man sitting with his girlfriend. He doesn’t recognize them, but it’s obvious to him that Bryar does. He makes a mental note to ask her about it later.

Bryar is having what can only be described as an existential crisis. But there’s no time for that. The large doors in front of the aisle open, and the wedding party starts to make their way to the front of the room. The chatter around the room dies down, withering to nothing as the music begins to play. Bryar turns her head to watch as they walk, thankful that she doesn’t have to look forward and watch Harry anymore.

—

HARRY

Harry and Xena make their way to find seats to watch the ceremony. He decided at the last minute to ask her to attend this wedding with him. They had only been on a few dates. They met at the bar he frequents with his friends. The same friends that encouraged him to ask her out. Encouraged him to finally move on. Bryar wasn’t coming back.

He and Xena have got on quite well so far. He enjoyed her company, more than he liked to admit. She wasn’t Bryar though, and he knows it’s unfair to compare them. She didn’t deserve that. So he tries his hardest to push Bryar to the back of his mind.

“I’m so nervous to meet your friends.” Xena leans in, whispering in his ear. He pulls back and smiles at her. She looks up at him through her lashes and it kills him, the way she looks at him like that. His grin grows wider and he wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

“You’ll do great.” He whispers encouraging words in her ear, pressing his lips to her temple as his eyes close. He does it out of habit, a small gesture to ease her nerves. For a brief moment, his mind flashes to her, his Bryar. His eyes open and he’s pulled right back into reality when he sees Xena’s blonde hair. A reality he’s forced to accept. He sighs, running his free hand down his own face.

After a few moments, he hears the doors open signaling that the bridal party would be making their way in any second. He turns his head to watch behind him as the wedding party makes their way to the altar. His eyes search around the room, eager to place familiar faces to introduce Xena to after the ceremony. He catches the movement of all too familiar auburn hair. He barely catches a look at the side of her face before he can’t see anything but the back of her head. His breath catches in his throat and he coughs under his breath.

He can’t believe she’s here. In the same room as him for the first time in four long years. Of course, in the back of his mind he knew she would be. Celia is one of her best friends. Harry’s eyes widen slightly when he realizes she’s not alone. Her head turns a little and he can see more of her face again. She perches her fingers under her chin, gazing at the man beside her and smiling. His heart drops to his stomach. He remembers that look all too well. She used to look at him that way. He tries to look away but he can’t, his memories catching up to him.

—

EIGHT YEARS AGO

Harry was nervous for a date, and this was the first time he ever recalled feeling this way. He had just met this girl, Bryar, at a coffee shop a couple of days ago and she was absolutely stunning and she captivated him with her words from the moment she spoke to him. He would’ve been a fool to not ask her out after the conversation they had. He was surprised she had even agreed. They exchanged numbers, and agreed to meet at a sushi restaurant downtown.

He admired the way she spoke. The way she got a little too excited about something in their short conversation, they way her cheeks flush in embarrassment when she realized she was rambling to a stranger. He asked her out right then. No way he was going to pass up the opportunity.

The walk to the restaurant is short, but it feels eternal because he’s so nervous. When the sign comes into view, he sees her standing there. Hugging her body for warmth in the cold winter air. He picks up his pace, speed walking towards her so she doesn't have to wait any longer for him. When he approaches, their eyes meet and she smiles widely.

“Hi!” She says almost like she didn’t believe he was standing in front of her.

“You didn’t have to wait outside for me.” He states, a small laugh escaping between his words. She shrugs.

“It’s okay. It’s just a little chilly.” She reassures and he smiles at her, walking towards the door side by side. He holds it open for her, and he hears her hum when the warm air inside envelopes them. They were seated and once the first date awkwardness subsided, they stayed there most of the night. Talking about anything they could think of.

He talked about his job, she talked about her dreams and ambitions, she was in her final year of college and how excited she was to be finished with her Master’s degree. What childhood pets they had. Where he was originally from (hence the accent) and why he moved to the States. They shared childhood stories of friends and siblings and parents. Everything laid out on the table, figuratively speaking. The more she spoke the more he admired her. She had her hand under her chin and watched him speak, a smile creeping up on her face at the way he articulated his words and thoughts.

The waiter approached the table and informed them the restaurant would be closing soon, and both of them looked at each other with wide eyes, Bryar bursting out into a fit of laughter. It was the most beautiful sound he had heard in such a long time.

“I don’t really want this to end.” She admitted, catching him by surprise with her honesty. He was thinking the same, too nervous to say it.

“It doesn’t have to.” He says, his eyes meeting hers. She tucked her lips into their mouth, suppressing a smile. He signed the check and they stood, walking towards the door.

He wasn’t expecting it, the way she grabbed his hand and laced her fingers between his. He hesitates for a moment before closing his hand around hers and he feels his heart already swelling for this girl. Bryar. He knew, in that moment, that she was going to fuck him up forever. Having just met, his heart already belonged to her, and that was dangerous...and for some reason, he didn’t care.

They were inseparable after that.

—

Harry feels a hand slide into his, snapping him out of his memory. Xena has her head tilted to the side, worried.

“Where did you go just now?” She whispers, and he shakes his head.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” He reassures her. But was he fine? Bryar was right there. He’d been dreaming for another chance to speak to her. His breathing picks up, and he turns away. He can’t keep looking in that direction because all he was doing was staring at her. He had to get out of here, fast. He fists the material of his dress pants, turning to face the front of the room instead. He couldn’t leave yet even though he wanted to. He couldn't run off and steal the moment away from Celia. The attention would be on him and the last thing he wanted was for Bryar to see him, if she hadn’t already.

So he faces the front, breathing rapidly through his nose. Hoping to not draw attention to himself. Xena places her hand on his knee, and he closes his eyes.

He was so fucked.

—

BRYAR

She looks over at Sam with adoration, trying to keep her breathing at an even pace. She knew if she glanced to the left she would see Harry, and that made her anxious. The flower girl was walking down the aisle shyly, and everyone was cooing and smiling at her. Bryar kept her eyes trained on the doors as they shut, preparing for Celia to walk through them for her grand entrance.

The doors open and everybody stands. There Celia stands with her dad by her side. She looks ethereal. Bryar feels tears brimming her eyes and she swipes at them before they can fall down her cheeks.

But now she has to turn and face him again and she’s not sure what will happen when she does. Her mind races, ultimately unable to avoid turning around. She looks up at where Derek stands, and sees that he’s swiping at his own eyes, seeing the love of his life walking towards him filling him with unspeakable emotion.

Bryar’s eyes flit over to Harry. His back is facing her, but his plus one is still turned to watch Celia. Bryar’s eyes meet hers for a brief moment and she holds her breath. Surely Harry has told her about Bryar, the girl who broke his world. His heart. The girl smiles at Bryar and Bryar forces herself to smile back, a passive smile. Of course, this girl never did anything to her. She didn’t even know who she was, never seeing her before this moment.

The officiant speaking causes their gaze to break, Bryar averting her eyes forward. She tried to focus on the words, but her mind is still racing. Sam rests his hand on her thigh, squeezing gently. She peeks over at him, and he leans in to whisper in her ear.

“I can’t wait for this to be us one day.” He says, nudging her once with his nose and kissing right beside her ear. She smiles, but her heart constricts behind her ribs. They had talked about their future together before, briefly. Bryar preferred to live in the moment after Harry. With Harry she was always looking forward instead of in moment, and she realizes that’s where most of her disappointments lie. In the future. The future is not predictable.

The ceremony lasts all of 30 minutes, and then the guests are dismissed to the ballroom for cocktail hour while the newlyweds and their wedding party take pictures together. Sam guides Bryar through the doors, a hand on her back so she knows he’s right behind her. The ballroom is decorated from floor to ceiling, flowers hanging out of vases and spilling into the table in beautiful arrangements. Bryar finds hers and Sam’s names at a table with the same friends they spoke to at the beginning of the evening. Sam leaves her to go to the bar and get drinks for the table.

Bryar engages in conversation as best as she can. They are talking about something that’s out of her realm and only adds when she feels it’s appropriate. Sam is walking towards them, carrying six drinks somehow and she finds herself giggling at how he’s able to carry three cups in one hand. He raises his eyebrows at her, blowing out a breath. He hands them out, holding them until the respective person takes it and then sits Bryar’s in front of her last.

“Thank you.” She says and he leans down, pecking her lips.

—

HARRY

Harry grabs Xena's hand, his fingers lacing with hers as they make their way into the ballroom, the lights from the ceiling twinkling and reflecting on the windows. They find their table, seated with a few people Harry knows and he pulls Xena’s chair out for her to sit.

“Drink?” He asks, running a hand through his hair and she nods.

“Just something light for now.” She requests and he nods, his hand lingering on her chair as he walks away. He waits in line behind a slightly taller man with dark black hair. The man turns to look over his shoulder and Harry recognizes him as the one that Bryar is here with. His eyes narrow, a bit of jealousy fueling his mind, but he shakes it away. Someone comes up behind Harry, navigating around him and getting the attention of the man in front of him.

“Sam! Hey man. I didn’t know you knew Celia and Derek.” The man takes Sam’s hand in his, shaking it, obviously someone he knew as an acquaintance. Sam smiles a little.

“Oh, I don’t really. I’m here with my girlfriend. They’re more her friends than mine.” Sam informs the stranger and he nods.

“Oh right, Bryar. Tell her I said hello.” The man responds and Sam nods. Harry looks down at the floor, kicking the toe of his shoe against the hardwood. He bites his cheek hearing her name. Sam and the unnamed man part ways after a bit of conversation, promising to catch up later in the evening after the ceremony. The line moves forward and Harry listens as Sam orders drinks for what seems to be his entire table.

“…and then I need vodka cranberry.” He finishes the order on Bryar’s drink. Harry would know, he’d ordered that for her at least a hundred times, the only other drink she enjoyed besides the cheap white wine from the grocery store. He looks to the side, his eyes narrowing, the jealousy bubbling up in his chest.

“Forgot to make it a double.” Harry mutters under his breath, and to his surprise Sam turns around. She never orders a single shot. Ever.

“What?” Sam asks, cocking his eyebrow and Harry looks over at him, shrugging.

“Didn’t say anything.” He shakes his head once, denying that he said anything. Sam looks at him for another moment, like he’s trying to place where he’s seen him before, before turning back around to the bartender. A second later, Sam is juggling all six drinks in his hand and nodding once at Harry before finding a path to his table. Harry orders for himself and then for Xena, dropping a tip in the jar and winding around chairs and tables back to her.

He slides into his chair, sipping on his beer and his mind slips into a memory.

—

SEVEN YEARS AGO

Bryar leans over the table, pool stick in hand and aiming at the cue ball directing it to the eight ball on the table. If she sinks it she wins. Harry stands behind her, a hand protectively resting on her back. Last thing he needs is someone looking at his girl with their drunken eyes trailing up her body. Not that he would blame them for looking, but his jealousy doesn’t let them get away with it if he catches them. Her hips shift slightly against his hand and he smirks.

Watching her intently, he admires the way her hair falls over her shoulder and tucked behind her ear, the tip of her tongue sticking out a little in concentration. She takes the shot, and sinks the eight ball, winning the game with ease. She straightens, jumping a little and turning to face him. The excitement in her eyes makes them twinkle and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling his face down to hers to kiss him.

“I won.” She grins, giggling a little and he pecks her lips again.

“You won, baby.” He mutters against her lips, pulling her a little closer to him.

“Get a room, you two.” Celia groans beside them and Bryar snickers, turning her head to face Celia and sticking her tongue out. Her temple touches against Harry’s chin and he dips a little lower to plant a small kiss there.

“Want a drink?” Harry asks, lips still pressed lightly to her skin and she nods.

“Vodka cranberry, remember to make it a do—” She starts to say, but Harry cuts her off.

“A double. I know. How you always want it.” He smirks, backing away from her before he turns away and makes his way towards the bar. He orders, looking over his shoulder at her while the bartender prepares their drinks. She’s already taking on her next victim in a game of pool, probably going to wipe the floor with them like the last unfortunate soul. There’s only one thought in his mind as he watches her, bent over the table to break.

He would marry her one day.

—

“Right, Harry?” his friend, Zack, asks from across the table. Harry blinks once, Zack raises an eyebrow waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention. Something on my mind.” He mutters, looking anywhere but at anyone at the table.

“Um…okay.” Zack says, turning back to the conversation.

The reception starts and the speeches and toasts to the bride and groom are all a blur. Harry doesn’t even get up to eat. He hasn’t really spoken to Xena and she hasn’t prodded him for answers either. The only thoughts racing through his mind were of Bryar. He just wanted to speak to her, he’d give up everything right now to be able to talk to her.

—

BRYAR & HARRY

Bryar and Sam are standing at a cocktail table outside of the reception area. Sam has been talking to them all night and Bryar tunes most of the conversation out, standing with one arm crossed over her middle and holding a plastic cup to her lips, chewing on the lip of it lightly. She’s leaning her head against Sam, eyes growing tired.

She turns her head for a brief moment, glancing around the room. Her eyes find Harry across the room, and it’s just become a habit as the night goes on. Her heart develops an ache that is so strong, she can’t believe how much seeing him has affected her. She lets her eyes linger on him a moment longer…what a mistake that was.

His eyes shift towards her, and their eyes meet.

She sucks in a breath, and she sees him swallow. It’s as if the entire world stops, everything and everyone in the room fades into the background, and it’s as if the only two in the room are Bryar and Harry. She wants nothing more than to run to him, throw her arms around him and sob into his shoulder, apologizing for leaving, for hurting him the way she did…but her feet are cemented to the floor. She knows she can’t. She loves Sam, and Sam loves her. As fucked up as it sounds, she feels like it doesn’t even matter because the only person she wants to love is Harry.

Her heart longs for him. She craves the way he used to say her name, the way he used to kiss her temple to calm her and remind her that he was right at her side, always. He stays where he is, his arm wrapped loosely around Xena’s waist and it pulls at her heart, constricting it in her ribcage. Harry can’t tear his eyes away and neither can Bryar.

He just wants to storm over to her and kiss her in front of the entire room. He doesn’t care about the consequences. He wants to grab her and tell her he doesn’t blame her for any of it. He wants to tell her that she’s still it for him, and he doesn’t expect her to come running back and give him another chance but he’ll always be waiting for her anyway. Seeing her tonight has only reminded him how much he's longed for her. But for whatever reason, he can’t bring himself to take that first step..

—

Four Years Ago

“...I just don’t think it’s going to.” Bryar says, her voice trembling on the words, she turns to walk away, and Harry brings himself to his feet, preparing to stop her from walking out the door. He doesn’t make it in time though, the breeze from the door slamming blowing back in his face. He feels the pang in his chest, the closing of the door making him accept quickly that this was real and she was gone. He leans his head against the hard wood of the door, allowing the tears to flow freely down his cheeks. They don’t stop, not even when the sobs take over his body, shaking and unable to breathe.

He’s not sure how long he’s been there. He doesn’t remember what time he even came home. At some point he turned his back to the door and slid down to the floor, staring at nothing. He finally blinks, turning his head and catching the time on the clock in the kitchen. Five A.M.

She had to come back, right? They were good together, she didn’t mean it. She was just upset. He would let her cool off for a couple days, and then he would try to talk to her. He pushes his body off the floor, muscles aching and screaming from leaning against the door all night.

He trudged down the hallway to his bed. It's unnervingly cold, the source of its usual warmth not present. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept without her. How could he sleep if she wasn’t there running her fingers down the expanse of his back, bringing her body closer to him for him to hold.

He tries to sleep, tossing and turning relentlessly for over an hour. When he’s had enough, he rises from the bed and decides to make a cup of coffee. The pang in his chest never goes away. His eyes feel sandy and he can’t fully open them. He stirs a little bit of milk into the mug, his motions slow and lethargic.

He turns memories over in his mind, combing through them to find the moment when everything started going south. Obviously, missing Bryars birthday was the straw that broke the camel’s back, the final nail in the coffin. He didn’t realize that she’d been unhappy, it seems, for a while. She never gave him any hint, they hadn’t really had a fight in what feels like so long. But isn’t that when he should have noticed? Was she tired of fighting him? Fighting for him?

He needs to see her. Needs to apologize. He’ll never stop apologizing, if that’s what it takes. He throws on his jacket and grabs his keys, leaving his apartment without a second thought. He doesn’t think of anything but Bryar on the way over to hers. She’ll answer the door. She has to, right? She was just upset, maybe she’s having second thoughts this morning.

He pulls up, throwing the car in park and practically jumping out before it stops moving. He sprints to her door, bringing his fist up to knock, but he pauses. He doesn’t hear her moving around inside. It’s silent. Was her car even in the parking lot? He steps back, looking around the wall to the lot and spots her car in its usual spot. Was she still sleeping? He finally knocks, waiting a few seconds for the sound of her footsteps coming to the door, except they don’t. He has a key, he could just go in. He fumbles his keyring around, mindlessly searching for the familiar blue key she had made for him not long after they started seeing each other, but it's not there. He doesn’t remember removing it, but maybe he did. He knocks again.

“Bry, baby please open the door.” He says, not yelling but loud enough for her to hear. There’s no answer back. No sound of her coming to him. Not the familiar turn of the deadbolt.

Nothing.

They can’t be over.

He was supposed to marry her. She was supposed to be forever.

He didn’t think forever was supposed to end this way.

—

Bryar is sure that someone has noticed them staring at each other by now, whether it be his date or Sam, yet she can’t seem to pull her gaze away. He nods his head to the side once, and it feels almost as if her heart was pulling towards him, trying to break free from the confines of her chest. His eyes flit across the room, and her gaze follows. She notices a hallway in his direct line of sight. When she looks back at him, he’s looking at her. Waiting.

Now she has the biggest dilemma. Does she stay at Sam’s side or does she finally after four long years get to hear Harry’s voice again? She’s frozen in place. Harry watches her, his eyes pleading with her to go and he’ll meet her there. He sees her apprehension. He knows what this would mean for her if she chanced being caught with him in the hallway.

She turns to Sam, looking up at him as he’s deep in conversation and it’s hard to make out the topic when her heart is beating so loudly it fills her ears. She watches him for a moment, thinking of every moment he was there for her, pulling her out of the darkness and giving her light whenever he couldn’t. She loves him.

But not in the way she loves Harry. Harry’s the only person who sees her for her. She doesn’t have to pretend around him. She doesn’t have to be something that she’s not. Never had to conform to please him, and she felt alive with Harry. She looks back across the room at him, he hasn't moved, his expression is one of longing. Pleading.

“Please.” She sees him mouth the word so clearly, begging her to give him any of her time. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath for the first time this evening, the air filling her lungs.

That was all it took.

Everything that happens next is a blur. She excuses herself to the restroom, slinking further away from the group. Her heart is racing, the closer that she gets to the hallway her palms start to sweat from the fists she has them clenched in. Once she’s behind the cover of the walls, she runs. Her dress is flowing behind her as she sprints, but it feels like she’s moving in slow motion, like she can’t get to him quickly enough. She rounds the corner and there he is, standing at the end and her vision betrays her from the tears brimming her lashes.

She doesn’t stop running, not until she reaches him. She flings her arms around his neck, burying her face between his collar and jaw. His arms wrap tightly around her waist and she breathes him in, the scent that’s lingered in her dreams every night since the last, and his arms feel like she’s finally home. He’s there, every part of him taking over her senses and it’s like she can finally breathe after drowning for so long. He lifts her feet off the floor, pushing her into a darkened room and closing the door behind them. She pulls away, looking at him…really looking at him for what feels like the first time, and she’s unable to stop the tears from running down her cheeks. He grabs her face, his eyes searching hers. He’s so close and it almost feels like she’s dreaming. She feels weightless, the room around her spinning.

“Bry…” Harry whispers, and it sounds so beautiful coming from him. She doesn’t waste any time. She grips the lapels of his jacket, forcefully bringing his mouth to hers and she melts. His hands find their way to her hips, gripping and pulling her closer to him. His body melds into hers, pushing her against the wall. His tongue brushes against her bottom lip, begging to let him in and she does without pause. They need each other. He pulls away, their breaths ragged and shaking, from the kiss or from just being in the other’s presence. His forehead rests on hers, and he’s just taking her in. All of her.

“I’m not going to be able to leave without you after this.” He admits without remorse, kissing the tip of her nose delicately.

“I don’t want you to.” She says in a hushed tone. She pauses for a moment, looking up at him and studying his features. “But H, I think we need to have a serious conversation. It’s been so long, we never talked about anything and I take full responsibility for that. I left you, and I never intended to. Never. I’ve regretted it every day since.” Her voice trembles, admitting how vulnerable she’s been. Her gaze falls to the floor, shaking her head. "I didn't think you wanted me anymore."

“Baby, it’s not your fault. I promise. I will always want you. I said you were it for me, and I meant it.” He grabs her face again, forcing her to look up at him. “I am so sorry, I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, if you’ll let me.” He cards his fingers through her hair, the tips of his fingers ghosting down her spine making her shiver. “I love you, Bry, I always have. I never stopped.” His eyes trace over every feature of her face, soaking in everything he’s been missing.

“I don’t deserve for you to forgive me so easily.” She whispers, and he shakes his head.

“No. None of that.” He kisses her again, unable to control the desire to feel her mouth on his. She sighs into the kiss, and he feels his heart pulling itself back together. “If anyone should be asking for forgiveness, it’s me. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I’ll give you anything…anything you ask for. Please just don’t make me leave without you.” He says against her lips. She grabs his wrists, bringing his hands to her mouth and kisses his knuckles.

“Take me home.” she whispers and he grins, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the room and down the hall, away from all of the people. Somehow Harry finds a backdoor and they sneak away into the night, laughing and running through the wet grass with their hands intertwined while Bryar’s shoes are in his other hand. Her head is spinning from adrenaline and nervousness. They find Harry’s car and she jumps into the passenger seat, Harry in the driver’s seat. He leans over the console and pulls her face to his once more, kissing her with everything he has. They drive away from the venue, her stomach in knots. Then she feels Harry’s hand snake over to her thigh, drawing small circles on her skin with his finger.

The drive to his apartment feels shorter than the drive to the wedding earlier in the day. They waste no time, practically sprinting into the building and up the stairs. He fumbles his keys and once the door is open, he pulls her inside. She doesn’t get a chance to take it in before he’s pushing her against the wall and kissing her again and again and again. The kiss is sloppy and wet, his tongue dancing with hers and teeth clashing together. He lifts her by her thighs, her legs instinctively wrapping around his torso. He forces himself away from the kiss, both of them breathing heavily and fast.

“Need you Bry.” He mumbles, dropping his lips to her collarbone and kissing lightly. “Always fucking need you.” Her eyes flutter closed and she hums. He knew how to make her melt with just his words, never forgetting what brings her to her knees.

“My girl. My sweet girl.” His lips travel to her shoulder, light touches leaving goosebumps on her skin, her body reacting like it’s never forgotten him. His tongue darts out, licking a stripe up to her ear and his breathing becomes heavy against her skin.

“Taste as sweet as I remember.” His voice drops an octave and Bryar audibly moans, forgetting that his words have always had such an effect on her. He pulls back, giving her a mischievous grin. His eyes have darkened and she down at him still holding her against the wall, her appetite for him becoming insatiable. She unhooks her legs, signaling for him to let her back down. Once her feet touch the floor she’s pushing his jacket off, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Her movements are frantic and shaky, fingers slipping over the buttons struggling to open them.

“Fuck it.” She says, fisting his shirt and ripping it open, buttons scattering around the floor. Her mouth waters at the sight of him. She pushes him further into his apartment, he smirks down at her, walking backwards until his legs meet the edge of the couch and he sits. She climbs on top of him, knees straddling either side of his waist and her dress rides up and around her hips. His hands find her hips, grabbing and forcing her all the way down in his lap. She groans when she feels his hardened length pressed against her center. He moves her hips for her, creating a friction so sweet she can barely hold herself up.

“Been waiting so long for this.” He murmurs, running his hands from her thighs up the expanse of her body. He pulls at the string on the back of her dress, making it unravel and it falls off her shoulders exposing her breasts to him. He dips his head forward and flicks his tongue against her nipple, causing Bryar to throw her head back, a quiet whimper escaping her lips while grinding her hips against him still. She lifts her hips, dropping her hands to the button on his pants. He lifts his hips slightly, allowing her space to pull his pants down just enough. She palms him through the thin material still covering him and he drops his head back with a loud groan.

“Need you so bad Har.” She whines, and that sets him off. He wraps an arm around her, picking her up and standing in one swift motion, carrying her to his bedroom. He lays her down gently, climbing on the bed to hover over her, his knee spreading her legs apart.

“Where do you need me, sweet girl?” He teases her by running a hand lightly up her thigh, trailing it back down. She sighs, grabbing his hand and putting him right where she wants him.

“Right fucking here.” she says through gritted teeth. His smirk grows wider, knowing she didn’t want to be teased. She’d gone without his touch for so long she felt starved. He pushes the lace covering her to the side, his finger swirling around her hole and the arousal that was already pooled there. Her eyes flutter closed and he watches her, studying her face as he slides his finger up, tracing small circles on her clit. She gasps, mouth dropping open, he inserts his finger to the knuckle and has her writhing beneath him. He thrusts his finger, hooking and finding just the right spot with ease. Her hips thrust upwards and he pushes in another, stretching her out and making her squirm under him.

“Being such a good girl for me, Bry. Always my good girl.” His voice is deep and he’s practically drooling watching her come undone from something as simple as this.

“Need more.” she begs between breaths.

“More?” His voice is low and gravelly as he kneels down, but he never takes his eyes off her. His fingers work her open slowly, her hips moving at a rhythm that matches his thrusts. She whines and cries and begs for more. “He never touched you like this, did he? So needy for something so simple.” he teases her, but she doesn’t want to think about Sam. Not right now. Even though he’s right, Sam never made her feel this way and she knows it. Harry can tell, the way her body is reacting to him makes it obvious she’s needed this for quite some time. He takes his fingers away from her and her breath leaves her lungs. She feels empty and the burning in her belly only heightens. The emptiness doesn’t last long, he brings his tongue to her dripping hole and licking all the way to her clit, flicking when he gets there. Her fingers tangle in his hair and he works his tongue on her clit while he brings his fingers back into play, pushing them into her. She feels the coil in her belly tighten, knowing that she’s about to let go.

“Shit, H. If you don’t stop, I’m gonna—” she stutters out, her sentence breaking with a strained moan, and he works his fingers faster, lapping at her swollen bud. He shifts and stands over her, watching her unravel from just his fingers. He bends over, bringing his mouth to her ear and his warm breath tickling her skin.

“Cum for me. Wanna feel you on my fingers, sweet girl.” he coos in her ear, his soft words are all it takes for the coil to snap and she’s clenching around his fingers, the ecstasy flowing through her.

“So pretty.” he murmurs as he watches her face contort into an expression of pleasure from above her. He brings his fingers up to her mouth, instructing her to open, and she does without question, tasting herself on him. He strips the rest of his clothes off, her mouth drooling at the sight of his cock finally springing free. A sight she’s been so desperate to see. He positions himself over her, tugging himself a few times before lining up with her.

He drags the tip of his cock down her folds once, collecting her arousal before he finally pushes into her, and its bliss. His chin drops to meet his chest, watching the way she takes him before throwing his head back again as he slowly works his entire length into her.

“Fuck, Bryar. Missed this. Missed you so much.” He grunts as he bottoms out and she writhes under him, her mouth hanging open from the overwhelming pleasure taking over her body. “S’like you were fucking made for me.” He stills for a moment, lowering himself so he can kiss her. She whimpers and whines into his mouth, grabbing his face with her hands not allowing him to pull away from her. She grinds her hips up, pressing their bodies together to try and create some movement.

“Go, Har. Need you to move.” she begs against his mouth and he pecks her lips again, shaking his head.

“Wanna savor it. Wanna go slow, feel all of you, baby. Missed you so much. Need to remember this.” She throws her arm around the back of his neck, holding him close to her as he drops his mouth to her neck, biting and sucking and lapping at her skin. He pulls his cock all the way out to the tip before he slowly pushes back in, setting a slow, torturous pace. So slow that it’s almost cruel. Bryar stifles a needy moan trying not to make him rush, but she needs him. Needs the way he used to be with her. She wants it to feel like they never missed a beat.

“Harry, please.” she gasps out as his hips meet hers again. His lips brush against her ear.

“Thought you were my good girl?” He nipped at her ear, and she was growing frantic.

“A-am.” she stutters, tears pooling in her eyes. “Being so good, just missed you. Need you.” she says breathlessly. She feels herself finally slipping. Slipping into that headspace she had only ever been in with him, only one she ever felt comfortable enough with when she was with him. The tip of his nose runs against her jawline, too gentle with her. He knows what he’s doing, riling her up and making her needy. He knows what she wants…he wants it too, finding it hard to resist falling into the familiarity with her, like not a single second has passed since the last time.

“Har, this isn’t fair. You’re being mean.” she cries between shaky breaths, feeling the tears starting to run. He pulls back, looking at her face once and seeing her expression, hearing her say he was being unfair flips a switch in him. He takes her by surprise and slams his hips into hers, causing her vision to go white and her mouth falls open again. He’s going hard, harder than he ever has with her and her thighs tighten around his hips and he feels her clenching around him.

“This what you want? Huh?” He says through a snarl, his teeth clenched together behind his lips. “This fucking mean enough for you?” He curses under his breath, bringing his hands to her thighs and pushing her knees to her chest, creating a new angle that somehow gets him deeper. She moans and writhes and her thighs shake in his hands, but she hasn’t said another word.

“That’s what I thought.” he mutters, looking down and watching himself disappear inside her, his head tipped to the ceiling and his eyes rolling back. She wraps her hands around his biceps, digging her nails into his skin. He shifts his weight, bringing her thighs flush with his torso and her ankles by his head, he kisses her skin there, and his movements never falter.

“Look so pretty taking my cock like this, Bry.” He grunts, and she’s falling apart. She can’t hold in any longer and she comes undone, the pleasure pulsing through her veins. She goes limp under him and her legs falling from his shoulders, her body exhausted from being worked this way. Her arms fall over her eyes and quiet moans fall from her lips. Harry grabs her wrists, pulling her arms above her head and keeping them captive there. He holds them together in one hand as he bends to kiss her, snaking his other hand down her body that shakes beneath him. He just needs one more. Needs her to cum one more time. His fingers dance over her hip, tracing lightly to her sensitive clit. He pushes his thumb against it and her body jolts and she cries out.

“H-Harry, no. Can’t. Can’t do it. Hurts." She can barely get the words out as he draws small circles around the bud. She looks up at him with wide eyes, shaking her head and pleading with him.

“You can. Know you can.” he encourages her, feeling his resolve coming quickly. If he could just get one more from her, he’d let her be finished. He was just so desperate to feel her clenching around him one more time, he longed for the feeling for so long. He finally had her where he wants her and he’s not letting her be finished that easily. “You take me so well, just one more. Need to feel you one more time.” He kisses her temple as her head falls to the side…and her third comes not long after that, his fingers slowly petting over her clit makes it so easy and she cums hard. The moment he feels her tightening around him he lets go, his hips stuttering and her name falls from his lips over and over, his head dropping to her shoulder with heavy breaths.

They lay there like that for a moment, his weight on top of her as she lazily wraps her arms around the back of his neck. Their heartbeats are thundering in both of their chests, and he hums as her fingernails run over his shoulder. They’re both silent for what feels like too long, but finally Harry stands and he walks off to the bathroom, bringing back essentials to help her clean up. He goes to his closet, pulling out an old shirt for her to wear, one he’s seen her in countless times before. They settle in the bed, and he pulls her to his chest, breathing her in, and he feels complete. She feels at home. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces.

Bryar’s phone rings incessantly until it dies, and she can’t find it in her heart to care. The adrenaline that was coursing through her veins for the past few hours was finally fading, growing sleepy while wrapped up in Harry’s arms, and that’s all she ever really wanted. It was fate, seeing him tonight, and maybe she always knew in the back of her mind that they would find their way back to each other. She lifts her tired eyes to his face, from his tousled hair to the stubble growing over his chin. Smiling, she brings her hand up to his cheek. He opens one eye, peeking at her. She smiles shyly at him, and he smirks back.

“Hi.” She whispers and the smile on her face grows.

“Hi.” He whispers back, trailing his hand down her arm. He moves closer, kissing her forehead, then the tip of her nose, then her lips. She closes her eyes, nuzzling closer to him and breathes out deep through her nose.

“I love you.” She mumbles.

“I love you, Bry.” He says into her hair, the familiar scent of strawberry filling his senses.

“Forever?” She asks for reassurance, even though she already knew the answer, her eyes falling closed, sleep consuming her mind.

“Forever.” She hears him say quietly before she falls asleep with his hand drawing shapes along her spine, the scene identical to ones they used to share countless times, many years ago. She feels comfort. She feels safe. And if you wanted to make the long story of their love short…for her, it was always going to be him, and for him, it would always be her.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 𖥸· ─────── · ·

taglist: @indierockgirrl (tagging you because you said you wanted to be tagged in everything and i just love you so much for that <3)

#harry styles #harry #styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x fmc #fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #smut #right where you left me #wrongplacerighttime #exes to lovers #normal!harry #normal!fmc #harry fic #harry styles fic #harry styles au

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crossdressingdeath · 1 year

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I really hope that TSatS features Nico and Will having so many issues around being complicit in Octavian's death, and Nico in addition having so many issues around killing Bryce. On Octavian's end these are children complicit in a gruesome death; necessary or no, that sort of thing's going to stick with them! Especially since as far as we see they never tell anyone about it (Nico might have told Dionysus during their therapy sessions, but as far as I can remember that's not confirmed), which means the only people they can discuss the whole thing with is each other. ...Or I guess Michael Kahale—assuming he's still alive post-ToA, since that's not actually confirmed—but I feel like the understanding between him and them is probably that they Do Not Acknowledge It, assuming they ever see each other at all. Anyway. I'm sure being able to share the weight of what they were part of between the two of them would help, but... well, sharing the burden of being a teenager traumatized by your part in a brutal death with another teenager traumatized by their part in said brutal death is only going to do so much. And I feel like more specifically the fact that Will is a healer would make the whole situation so much worse for him; knowingly standing by and letting someone die knowing he could easily save them would be hard for any hero, but for someone who's dedicated to healing people? Yeesh.

And of course on top of that... Bryce's death is a really cool and dramatic scene that goes way harder than I'd expect a children's book to go, but it's also absolutely horrific. Partially because Nico turns him into a ghost with zero sign of hesitation and that is so much, but I feel like for Nico partially because he doesn't remember it. Like, the fact that he has no memory of killing Bryce gets glossed over in BoO, but he turned a guy into a ghost with no hesitation or mercy and he doesn't remember. He was really angry at Bryce for threatening Reyna, and the next thing he knew the guy was dead (and he'd been knocked out for three days). He has no idea how he did it or even what he was thinking at the time! He was either out of control of his own actions or he wanted to kill Bryce, and he has no way of finding out which. That would be a terrifying thought: either he's a willing murderer (while him killing Bryce was to save Reyna and Hedge and I fully agree with it, it was absolutely murder in a way Octavian's death isn't, Bryce was completely powerless and begging for mercy by the end there) or his powers can hijack his body and push him into doing things that he would never do of his own free will, and he'll probably never know which. Which does beg the question of if anything could set him off like that again, which I feel like is something that would weigh on Nico. I'd love to see him admit that he's actually really scared that something will push him over the edge again and either he'll lose control of his powers and kill someone else or (possibly worse) discover that he was in control when he killed Bryce and did it because he wanted to. Now, I don't think Nico could turn someone into a ghost just like that, my theory is that it was only possible in Bryce's case because Bryce was threatening someone he loved using a closely held secret (which Nico understandably took rather personally) and, more importantly, he was halfway faded out of the living world already; I doubt he could've done it if he hadn't been mostly full of darkness already or if he hadn't been overwhelmed with protective fury at the threat to his dear friend. But whether or not Nico knows that is unclear; I can see him being terrified at the very thought that it's possible that he could snap and kill someone again.

Basically given how TSatS seems like it's going to be largely about All The Trauma, it would feel like a huge failure on Rick's part to not go into how being responsible for Octavian's death absolutely would've fucked Will and Nico up, and also how directly killing Bryce absolutely would've fucked Nico up. If I'm remembering right, setting aside Luke's death—Percy and Annabeth supplied the weapon he stabbed himself with, but I wouldn't call them complicit in it the way Will, Nico and Michael are complicit in Octavian's death since it was entirely Luke's decision in the end—Will and Nico (and Michael Kahale but he's not important currently assuming he's even still alive) are the only protagonists knowingly and willingly complicit in another demigod's death, and Nico is the only protagonist to actively kill another demigod! I can accept them not talking about it in ToA, since "Hey, we're super fucked up from the deaths we caused/played a part in and we don't know what to do about that because we're kind of sort of murderers before the age of eighteen and that's really not the sort of thing you just tell people" isn't something to drop on Will's suddenly-sixteen-and-mortal godly father without warning during a serious crisis situation and I can't see anyone they might have told about it off-page spilling the beans without permission either and when it happened Apollo was already in deep shit and so probably not paying a lot of attention to what his kid was doing, so our POV character wouldn't know about it and wouldn't find out (I know he's aware that Octavian's dead, but unless I'm forgetting something—which is. entirely possible, I should reread ToA—he doesn't know the part Will and Nico played in it). But if it doesn't come up at all in the book told entirely from their perspectives, I'm... honestly gonna be pretty pissed!

#tsats #heroes of olympus #nico di angelo #will solace #if there isn't a moment in tsats where one of them snaps and just goes 'we are MURDERERS!'#(preferably in response to the other or both of them having moral qualms about something)#and they're both suddenly forced to contend with this thing that they've been trying SO hard to bury #then what is even the POINT #...actually if it doesn't happen i might have to write it because my GOD the angst potential #like you KNOW that even aside from bryce they both consider their part in octavian's death murder #(i don't know if it would count legally but they definitely THINK of it as murder. nico explicitly refers to it as such in boo)#(i guess it's possible will doesn't but i'm pretty certain he does even if he does seem to understand why they had to do it)#and who can they tell about that? how do they even BEGIN to raise that topic?#how do you tell your friends that you knowingly and willingly killed someone even indirectly?#ESPECIALLY given the greek demigods generally seem to frown on killing even enemy demigods #or at least it's not the Generally Done Thing #oh god i'm having so many emotions about the boys thinking they're murderers for their part in octavian's death #send help

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ppjeterka · 24 days

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CONSIDER… bunny boy Ukko-Pekka??

ANON UR BRAIN. he reminds me of those huge flemish giant rabbits i always see people manhandling and holding like stuffed animals :'')

BIG GOALIE->BIG BUNNY

LOOK HOW CUTE!!!!

He'd have these beautiful long silky ears that he has to meticulously brush every day because they always get mussed around by his helmet :( it can get kind of tiring/annoying but its okay bc his teammates are always down to help comb them (and sneak in a few pets in the process obvi).

okay and now because i'm a real angst luvr (tm) i'm imagining ukko-pekka being really insecure about how big he is, particularly because the sabres have another bunny on the roster who's a "normal" bunny size (i'm thinking 5'9" jacob bryson) and is like the platonic ideal of what people expect bunny boys to be like (small, docile, sweet, affectionate, small), and like, ukko-pekka is all of those things too, except not small, and he's really in his head about it so he gets mopey and stops initiating physical affection with the team because he thinks they're just indulging him out of pity.

What exacerbates this misunderstanding is that he's one of those bunnies who, when he binkies (which i found out recently is the term for when bunnies are so happy they just start jumping and twisting and zooming around because they can't sit still with how happy they are), he kinda runs away? (i did a little too much research for this maybe. BUT theres this bunny i found called jabba the rabbit who i believe is also a flemish giant, and apparently she likes to get chased when she binkies? like her owner pets her and she does the jumpy twisty thing and runs away, except she's not telling her owner she doesn't like it, she just likes to be chased and pet and chased again and pet again, etc. etc. its actually really cute! if her owner leaves she chases her back down to start the process again(video here). ANYWAY. I'm imagining that Ukko-Pekka's binkies are like this)

And the team doesn't know what him running away means (especially bc Brys' binkies are mostly contained to one place), so they always leave him alone after he runs away and waits to be chased the first time :( which he kind of just takes as confirmation that they see him as too much trouble and that thought immediately kills the happiness and desire to be pet he was feeling anyway so he doesn't return to the person who was just petting him, he just quietly goes back to what he was doing pre-binky except now he's sad and embarrassed and oh there his ears go drooping :((

eventually, of course, everything gets figured out and the team finds out how he's been feeling about all of this and he gets smothered in love and pats and reassurances that him being big is absolutely not a problem in any way (just more bunny to love!!) and he finally gets the courage to be like hey uh when i run away after you pet me can you. uh. follow? me? And everyone's like ??? we thought that was you telling us to stop? And now he's blushing because this is so so embarrassing to talk about so he pulls his ears down and hides his face in them as he explains that he likes it when he gets chased down and smothered in more pets because in those moments his body needs an outlet to express his contentment but he also doesn't want to stop getting pet :((

And after he explains himself everyone awws and hugs him and promises that they'll never leave him alone again and he grumbles but inside he's absolutely glowing :'')))

#um. hope you didnt mind me rambling anon hehe #asks #anonymous #hybrid au #my writing #UPL YOU! ARE A BUNNY BOY #please keep asking me about these things as you can see i can go on forever

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storiesofsvu · 1 year

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Journey to the Past Ch 22

Bryan Kneef x reader Sorry this one took so damn long to get out. I kept getting stuck with it and working out the logistics of everything for this chapter. plus like... life... am i right? ANYWAYS, here ya go. enjoy this chapter. we enter the final plot arc now.

“Bryan!” Your shriek turned into a giggle as the man wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you flush to him, his lips burying into your neck as they made home against your skin.

“What?” He chuckled, teeth scraping into you and you let out a soft moan, followed by a laugh as your hand tugged into his hair, pulling him off you.

“I have to go!”

“Oh come on.” He nearly whined, “it’s just a girl’s night.”

“And we spent half the morning fucking.” You laughed, turning in his arms to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ve barely seen Kim this month. Besides…” you kissed him once more, “it’ll give me a chance to go through my apartment, see what I’m moving in versus what I’ll give away.”

“Fine.” He grinned, cupping your chin in his hand with a wicked grin, “I’ll accept that.”

“Thought you might.” With a grin you popped up on your toes to kiss him again before squeezing at his arm, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He left a kiss on the tip of your nose that you let out a giggle at before you were finally able to turn from the apartment and disappear down the hallway to embark on your evening plans.

You managed to get to your place with enough time to spare, ordering some take out that would get there shortly after Kim would and cracking a bottle of wine that you poured a glass out of to drink in the meantime. You meandered into the bedroom, starting to make sure all of your personal belongings were removed, sorting through the clothes you’d left to either take home or be donated. It wasn’t long after that that you heard the knock on the door, followed by Kim’s voice and you called out to let her know you were in the bedroom.

“What’s…. going on?” She asked with a raised brow as she perched in your bedroom doorway, eyeing the piles of clothes and belongings strewn across the bed.

“Figured I should take some time to clean my shit out and you could probably help with that.” You gestured to the bottle of wine and empty glass, “grab some wine.”

“Oh fuck, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, I should probably wait for dinner first.”

“Raid the fridge?” You suggested, “grab a non booze drink or some snacks?”

“You’re an angel.” She shot you a grin before darting off down the hallway, returning with a sparkling water and a power bar, settling at the foot of your bed, “So… you just get the urge to clean out or?”

“Well…” You grinned at her, pausing for a sip of wine, “I’m trying to downsize a bit, not really with the clothes but more with the other shit. And to figure out what I own that are super personal versus stuff I’d be okay with strangers being around on a regular basis.”

“What are you talking about?” She laughed and you felt a brief heat sink into your cheeks.

“I’m moving into Bry’s place.”

“Are you serious!?”

“Oh don’t sound so shocked!” You laughed.

“I just didn’t ever see you selling this place!”

“I’m not, at least not yet.” You laughed, tossing another pair of pants into a suitcase, “I still kinda want my own space, I figured I’ll list it on Airbnb, that way I can control who and when stay here and when I’ll be able to have time on my own, or if we wanna have a super drunk weekend or something.”

“I mean… that’s probably the smartest choice, you can make bank with that shit.”

“Exactly.”

“He really asked you to move in?” Kim took a sip of her drink, casting you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes.

“Are you judging?” You suddenly stalled, “oh god. Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“No!” She shot back, “I think it’s a fucking great idea. Have you guys talked about any more of a future yet or is that like, on the back burner?”

“A bit of both.” You laughed, your head shooting down the hall as a loud knock echoed through your apartment, “I guess the rest of this will have to wait.” You tossed down a pair of pants, “movie and dinner?”

“Always.” Kim shot you a grin, following you down the hall and picking up what you’d need from the kitchen for dinner before making herself at home on the couch and picking out a movie while you paid for the take out.

You brought the bag to the coffee table and started to scoop things out onto plates, the two of you splitting things up as evenly as you could before settling into the movie Kim had picked. Conversation flowed easily between the two of you, commentary on the movie while you complimented the food, digging into takeout containers for more. You fell into the usual routine, laughter taking over when you weren’t paying full attention to the movie. It was a few hours later, the movie over, you were on your second glass of wine, about to offer Kim one when you noticed.

“You still nursing that Perrier?”

“It’s been a weird week.” She laughed, practically avoiding your gaze and you smacked at her leg.

“What is going on?” You asked and she took a heavy breath, letting it out slowly.

“Something that I really don’t want to do but I need your help with.”

“Okay?” You raised a brow in her direction and she huffed, her shoulders sagging before looking up at you in defeat, “do we need to immediately rephase into attorney client privilege or is it something else?”

“I think I’m late…”

“Like your period?”

“Yeah.” She huffed, “I forgot to track last month’s so I’m not sure when this one’s supposed to come and I’ve lost track of time and have no clue anymore. Plus the guy I’m seeing… it’s just super casual, he doesn’t want anything past a casual relationship and I’m fine with that, but this would throw a loop into things…”

“Okay, well you don’t have to really worry about things yet.” You assured her, squeezing at her hand, “either give it another week and wait for your period, or we can run down to the store and get a test for you to take now.”

“I’ve already got one…” She admitted, glancing up to you with a sheepish look on her face, “I think I’m just way too up in my head and freaked out to want to do it.”

“You could wait the week?”

“And send my stress levels through the roof?” She laughed, “I don’t think that’s ideal.”

“Okay, then…You know where the bathroom is.”

“Yeah, but they only sell these things in multiple packs and I’m trying not to freak out, don’t make me be the only one, please….so what do you say?”

“That you’re being ridiculous, but you’re lucky I have two bathrooms.”

“Oh thank fucking god.” Kim let out a heavy breath, “I just like, didn’t know what to do and then this tik tok trend popped up where groups of friends all take—”

“Babe… do you seriously think I have enough time to engage in tik tok?”

“You’re right.” She barked out a laugh, moving from the couch to dig through her purse. She pulled out the box, ripping it open and handing you a wrapped test.

“Take the hallway bathroom, we’ll set a timer, I’m sure it’s fine.” You gave her arm a squeeze and shot her a reassuring smile before you made your way into the bedroom and crossed through to the en suite.

This certainly wasn’t the first time a friend had come to you freaking out about something like this, or even asking you about your own experience. So with someone like Kim, you weren’t about to tell her no, she was your best friend and you finally knew why she had been acting so weird all week. You didn’t take long, popping the top off the test and quickly doing what you needed to do before putting the cap back on and wandering back out to the main part of the apartment to be the emotional support you knew would be needed. Wondering if Kim would finally be wanting wine or if it would be a night of non alcoholic fun. You placed your test down on the island, letting out a soft sigh as you refilled your wine glass, picking up your phone to kill the time. You smiled at a couple of texts from Bryan, shooting off a couple of replies to him, a few about how you couldn’t wait to come home to him daily, and it didn’t take long after that for things to get dirty.

“Sorry.” Kim’s voice nearly made you jump, her own test sliding onto the counter across the sink from yours, “I may or may not have freaked out again.”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about.” You assured her, squeezing at her arm, “besides, this is just step one, you never know what’s going to happen after this and there are always a million ways things can go.”

“I guess.” She let out a huff, taking a swig of her soda right before the alarm on your phone went off and she nearly jumped, looking to you, “fuck, do I really have to?”

“Just flip it over.” You let out a chuckle.

“Fine.” Kim shot you a glare before doing so, her eyes settling on the small stick before she let out a heavy sigh of relief, “oh thank fucking god!”

“See! You’re fine!” You swatted at her arm, handing her a glass of wine and she laughed, glancing toward your unturned test.

“Are you gonna look?”

“I don’t see why.” You laughed, but you turned back to it, flipping it over and it suddenly felt like your entire world stilled at the sight of a little pink plus sign staring back at you. You felt absolutely frozen, pure shock taking over your entire system as your eyes widened briefly before you finally felt like you could breathe again. You blinked a couple of times, making sure you weren’t seeing something before you finally spoke, Kim’s relief not even realizing your awkwardness. “Are you sure yours was on that side of the sink?”

“What?” She glanced up over the rim of her wine glass, her eyes widening over the panic written across your face.

“Did you put your test down on that side of the sink or did you move around afterwards?”

“I… I don’t think so. I came in, put it down and waited.. I think?” She winced, “why?” You let out a heavy breath, running a hand over your face.

“Because this one’s positive.” You flipped the test over to face her and she let out a small gasp.

“Oh fuck.”

“Where did you get these?”

“CVS.”

“So like, not the dollar store?”

“No.” She laughed, “but I’ve heard they’re all the same accuracy…”

“This has to be a false positive.” You murmured, “fuck, oh fuck… you said these came in packs, right?”

“Yeah…” Kim replied cautiously, placing her wine glass down on the island, “you think we should do a round two?”

“Well considering this says that one of us is pregnant, yeah, I do.”

“I’m like ninety eight percent sure that I put mine down on this side.” She gestured to the island, “like you said, it’s probably a false positive, I mean, when was your last period?”

“I don’t keep track.” You admitted with a huff.

“Are you serious?”

“Kim! I’ve got shitty ovaries, or a uterus or whatever, my periods have been all over the place for like, ten years. I miss them regularly; it’s never been a concern.”

“Are you and Bryan using condoms?”

“No.” You groaned, “why would we?! Once we said we were exclusive it went out the window.” You let out a weary sigh, “what the fuck?”

“Hey, hey…” Kim grabbed at your arm, “you’re lucky these things come in packs…” she rustled through her bag for a minute, pulling out the box once again, “round two.”

“Christ…” You muttered, taking one of the tests from her before you both retreated back to the bathrooms you’d been in prior.

This time when you returned to the kitchen, the air was much more tense, only a few words exchanged between the two of you as you waited for the timer to go off. When it did you both let out a low breath, flipping over the very separated tests to make sure you knew whose was whose.

“Oh my god…” You whispered, a hand coming up to your mouth as the bright plus sign stared back at you, “this… I think this is actually real…” Kim’s hand came up to yours, gently taking the test from you as she flipped it to look at it.

“Oh shit….” She muttered, “you’re pregnant…”

“Yeah…” You glanced up at her, “I really didn’t think it was ever possible…. I mean they told me it wasn’t…”

“Maybe it’s a fluke… like you said.” She squeezed at you hand, “call your doctor, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Oh I know.” You huffed out a breath, a million thoughts swirling around in your brain, going a mile a minute, “it just seems so fucking surreal.”

“Does Bryan want kids?” She asked and you were suddenly sent crashing back to reality, remembering it wasn’t just your future you were thinking of.

“Oh god… I… I don’t even know. We very briefly talked about it, he seemed wary…. But maybe?”

“Okay, forget I asked.” She grabbed your arm, tugging you away from the tests and back toward the couch, “we’re gonna forget all of this, you’re going to make a doctor’s appointment and we’re going to finish this take out and watch the rest of this movie, okay?”

“Okay…” you let out a soft sigh, dropping down onto the couch beside her, letting yourself get distracted with the media in front of you rather than dwell on your thoughts and worries.

Bryan was in the kitchen, packing up his own dinner into Tupperware and doing a couple of dishes, rinsing out the bowl while he tried to decide if he was having another glass of wine or was going to swap to scotch. The noise from the front door pulled his attention, glancing up, his brow furrowing as you appeared around the corner, dropping a duffle bag onto the floor with a little sigh.

“I didn’t expect you home tonight.” He greeted with a warm smile, crossing through the space to kiss you softly.

“Guess I just missed you.” You replied with a soft smile, pecking him gently before moving through the room slowly.

“Wine?” He asked, crossing back to the island and lifting the bottle in your direction, causing you to stall, shaking your head.

“No, thank you.” You gave him your best smile, “I’m not feeling great.”

Bryan’s head shot up to look at you, watching the way you dropped against the arm of the couch, letting out a gentle sigh and he crossed the room to you a hand gently cupping at your cheek, “you okay sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, leaning into the embrace, “just tired.”

“Alright.” He leant in, kissing you tenderly and you hummed against his lips, tugging him back for a second.

“Can…. can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” His thumb stroked across your cheek; his eyes soft as he gazed across at you.

“You want a future here, right?” You glanced up to him, your heart beating a million miles a minute as you did your best not to hold your breath.

“Are you fucking with me?” Bryan laughed, “of course I do. You’re all I ever wanted….”

“Okay.” You let out a shaky breath, smiling at the way he squeezed at your hand, “I just… fuck, Bry,” you let out a small laugh, sinking further into the arm of the couch as Bryan moved forward, his hand continuing to stroke at your cheek. “I don’t want to freak you out or anything, and I know it’s fast and kinda weird, we haven’t technically been together that long..”

“But time doesn’t really mean anything?” He murmured with a raised brow and you laughed softly.

“No, no it doesn’t.” You let out a breath, the wheels in your head spinning as you tried to put your words together. Considering how he’d reacted to a minor inconvenience before you were serious when you said you didn’t want to freak him out, and something like this might send him running for the hills. Kim was right, you should wait until after going to the doctor to bother bringing it up, there was still a decent chance it was false, you sighed, glancing back up at Bryan and you could feel the adoration pouring from his eyes onto you, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you, and I love you more than anyone ever. I don’t need you to say the same back right now but there is no one else in the world I would rather spend the rest of my life with.”

Bryan let out a soft chuckle, nuzzling against you softly, “if you want me to buy you a ring, I will.” His lips hit yours softly, “because you are, without a doubt, the absolute love of my life, and I would give everything to spend my life with you.”

“I don’t need a ring.” You laughed softly, your hand coming up to catch his cheek, redirecting his next kiss to your lips, “but how about some cuddles? I honestly am fucking exhausted.”

“Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” Bryan smiled, kissing you gently before helping you up and guiding you down the hallway.

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he helped you out of your clothes, shifting you into comfortable pyjamas, making sure you were okay, a bottle of water by your bedside before he changed himself. He then wrapped you in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your head, his hands ghosting over your body until they settled in a very affectionate manner. You weren’t totally sure, but you thought that you might have fully broken into Bryan Kneef’s soft side, one that wasn’t going to be reserved for just you anymore.

As you finally drifted off to sleep your thoughts shifted from whether Bryan would be as receptive to this news as you were or if he would go against his word and disappear out of your lives to ones of a long happy future with him. He had you tucked so tightly in his arms, nuzzling you deeper into the embrace with each breath, lips gently brushing against the top of your head, you felt safe, protected and most importantly, loved. And exactly where you needed to be.

__________________

@detective-giggles @plaidbooks @thatesqcrush @witches-unruly-heartt @beccabarba @bisexual-dreamer02 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @whimsicallymad @mrsrafaelbarba @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @caracalwithchips @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @lustvolle-liebe @anlin2058 @fandom-princess-forevermore @tinyboxxtink @alexusonfire @xovalliegirlxo @nobody-important12122 @somethingimaginative177 @momlifebehard @misscharlielulu @fighterkimburgess

#bryan kneef #bryan kneef x reader #the good fight #journey to the past

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an-honest-puck · 1 year

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a collection of viewing notes and highlights from Back to the Tutor because I don’t have the time to liveblog while watching but I do have thoughts

(seems fitting that today's viewing notes and highlights are from a women-led MMNI cast!!! 🙌🏽 Happy International Women's Day, babes!!! <;3)

ah yes, Back to the Tutor a.k.a. Dave's audition tape to be the next James Bond XD

jokes, what I mean is: ytg (yeah the girls) baybeeeee!!!!!!!!

ayo big ups to the cast on this one!!!!!! I was shocked to see so few people in the cast compared to other nights (pandemic times, amiright) but hot damn what a brilliant story they weaved together!!!!

listen, I am all for Laura Kirman and Lauren Shearing romcom supremacy my dudes (gender neutral)

their love story was so friggin sweet!!! their scene on the mini-golf course and the awkwardness afterwards was so accurate and so endearing!!

Laura seems like such a load of fun - her grandiose entrance and that note she hit??????? queen shit!!!!!! excited to see more of her shenanigans!!!

and Lauren plays endearing characters so well how can you not love her????? but she's also equally loveable when she's being cheeky and causing mischief lololol

Ellie trying to be mean was so funny to watch lolol

like, she really went from 0 to 100 when she insinuated that her character pushed a grandma down the stairs XDD

Anna (Laura): You're a nasty, nasty woman!

Louise (Ellie): *desperately trying to wrap up her story arc because it's almost the end of the movie* And I'm not gonna learn my lesson! :D

Dave is in absolutely fine form and yes, I mean that in all definitions XD Dave really said as the token male of the cast tonight, I will be playing the boytoy to be ogled at, and you all have full permission to address me as such lmaoooo we appreciate your sacrifice, sir o7 /half-joking

no but for real, the man has range!!!!!!!! we love to see it!!!!!

hypermasculine James Bond to flamboyant best friend/sidekick character???? that's ✨range✨ baby

Bryony does what she does best: play an elderly person XD if I had a dollar for every elderly person I've seen her play, I'd have two dollars. it's not much, but it is odd that it's happened twice lololol

an absolute cracker of a character!!! such sassy lines and brutal advice!!! 😂 her scenes with Hen (yes, a wild Henry Lewis appeared via Zoom!!!!! it was delightful!!!! he's bloody brilliant!!!!) were so friggin sweet too omg!!!! <3

and oh my days her character ending!!!!! 😭 also, she had so many good scenes??????? but like, all of them did!!!!!!!

actually, this whole movie hit all the emotional beats incredibly well, it was magic!!!!!!!

perhaps somewhat to the detriment of the cast, with Oscar/Jono breaking character twice as he keeps an eye on them 😅 (which, mind you, was very sweet to see)

we love that moment when everyone's trying to figure out what the scene should be, so no one's actually on stage XD

Bryony: *starts to run on stage as the camera cuts away*

Oscar: Pause! Pause! Pause! *head in hands*

*cut to Bryony, sprawled on the floor as if she's fallen down the 2 steps of the stage and Dave midway through entering the scene*

*cut back to Oscar*

Oscar/Jon, somewhat nervously as he cranes his head around to look at the stage: Are you ok, Bry?

*a beat*

Bryony, offstage and cool as you like: Yes.

Oscar: Ok, good! Yes, yes, we carry on the movie- we carry on the movie- I really worried then! I really thought that we got two minutes in- gotta change the cast, got another one down- but no! It's fine! It's fine!

there is one big downside to this movie, and that is the smoke machine- terrible scene partner, never expected in the scene, always coming in too strong, 0/10 performance lmaooo

Oscar: Pause. And I think we have enough time for a final moment of performance from Bertie, who's desperately trying to work out how to signal that he wants to speak.

Hen really said "I got this, fam" and proceeded to straight up just tell Bryony to leave the room LMAO

ayo also huge kudos to Yshani and Richard for sneaking Bond music in whenever Dave- sorry, James Bond was in the scene XD

Marcus (Dave): Sorry, gals, but I'm back, and I'm pretty tired now! Alright, here we go! *proceeds to lead everyone through a ridiculously Zumba/aerobics-esque high energy dance while still looking like the most energetic person in the room*

Oscar, laughing: Pause! What I love is that obviously, when there's a song, there's a really clear moment when the song ends and we know that the movie's over. But with a dance, it's much harder to find that moment! But they do find that moment, before- because Dave does look very tired!

Marcus, voice breaking halfway through the sentence: Don't you worry, gals, I've got plenty in the tank!

*cue the music getting faster and the dancing getting faster*

and then Dave does a freaking cartwheel on the spot XD (ngl, I rated it - perhaps not in technique but geez the man has springs in his limbs lol)

#mischief movie night in #mischief theatre #dave hearn #laura kirman #lauren shearing #bryony corrigan #ellie morris #jonathan sayer #back to the tutor #for real let's give it up for this cast because they did such an amazing job!!!!!! <3 #much respect and love to 'em #oh and i guess technically #henry lewis #was there too haha #soz for the terrible quality gif but i just wanted to appreciate dave's acrobatics lol #that move wasn't quite a round-off but very easily could've been with a bit more space #but also if he wasn't so tired i swear that could be a proper hand spring lol #day says hey

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bryscorner · 3 months

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y'know, I've been recently watching obx and I just started s3 right? Tell my WHY it was even remotely a good idea for rafe to have a buzzcut?! I also want Ward to literally be eaten by the sharks istfg he's so mf annoying, he makes my blood boil. I hope he dies on that bed. Also hope Sarah gets all the love that she 1000% deserves cause I love her sm it's not funny <3 Moodboard will be posted today cause I don't have the motivation nor mental brain compacity to write atm cause everything is stressing me out

#rant #obx #sarah cameron #obx s3 #rafe cameron #bry’s personal thoughts #me <3

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trinity-mia · 28 days

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a story as endless as the ocean

the titan's curse

0.1 a sense of foreboding

warnings : cussing, a mrs. claus outfit, an unending sense of dread... i don't think there was anything else this chapter

word count : 3.4k

0.1 Something Tells Me This Isn't Going to End Well

I hadn’t wanted to leave Camp Half-Blood once I went back after my almost-deadly night out. Luke didn’t want me out of his sight, either. Unfortunately, I’d made some prior commitments and needed to grace the cover of Vogue for the I-don’t-even-know-how-many-ith time.

That's how I ended up wearing a stereotypical, close-to-slutty Mrs. Claus outfit and in a limo with Luke, Thalia, and Brylie going to a boarding school. It was an eight-hour drive from Manhattan to Bar Harbour and we all hadn't spoken together for about two weeks, considering I'd been very busy, but even still, we hardly talked on the way there.

Part of that was because we didn't want to have our usual conversations in front of Bry, and the other part was because the task we were about to have to partake in kept us quiet. Plus, the blizzard was giving us another worry, considering if we ran off the road, it wouldn't be too good for us.

I’d spent most of the drive trying to figure out the lyrics to the song that had driven me to drink two weeks prior, to no avail. Everytime I hit a wall in my mind I scowled at nothing in front of me.

Finally, Garrett, my personal chauffeur, pulled up to Westover Hall, the boarding school we needed to be at. He stopped the car and while we waited for him to walk around and open the door, Thalia wiped off the fog from one of the windows and peered outside. "Oh, yeah. This is gonna be fun."

"Why do I feel like this is where Bill Belichick lives?" I joked. I saw Luke give me a grin, but Thalia, who was still adjusting to being alive again, hadn't really heard of the Patriot's past football dynasty and the jokes that came with it.

Westover Hall looked like an evil knight's castle. It was all black stone, with towers and slit windows and a big set of wooden double doors. It stood on a snowy cliff overlooking this big frosty forest on one side and the gray churning ocean on the other. Essentially, where a non-patriots fan assumed Bill Belichick lived.

"Thanks for the ride, Gare," I said, as we climbed out. He grabbed our respective bags and handed them to us.

"Of course, Miss Jackson. Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I'd be happy to wait while you all go in."

"No, thank you. We have another way back." Truthfully, we didn't, but I figured it wouldn't be too difficult to find one. I didn't notice until Luke pushed my hand down, but I'd been fiddling with Riptide in necklace form.

"Alright. Do call if you need me."

"I will." And with that, he got back in the warm limo and carefully drove off.

The Mrs. Claus outfit did little to save me from the elements. Despite the long boots covering most of my legs, the piercing wind settled into my veins due to not having long sleeves.

Without a word, Luke shrugged off his coat and settled it over my shoulders. He hardly even spared me a second glance, making the move as though it was second nature. As though he hadn’t even thought it through before doing it. I opened my mouth to argue, claim he needed the warmth of his own jacket, but before I could, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder, securing his jacket in place, and using the leverage to move the two of us quickly toward the large set of doors.

"I wonder what he found here that made him send the distress call," Brylie said timidly from behind Luke and I.

I stared up at the dark towers of Westover Hall, a sense of foreboding settling over my bones.

"Nothing good," Luke guessed from beside me.

Thalia and I shot him exasperated looks as Brylie's face grew fearful. She was fourteen, almost fifteen, but she'd had a very rough childhood, so many things scared her. It was a wonder she asked to go with us, much less be given permission.

The oak doors groaned open and we walked in with a dramatic flurry of snow following behind us. The place was huge. The walls were lined with battle flags and weapon displays: antique rifles, battle axes, and a bunch of other stuff. I mean, I knew Westover was a military school and all, but the decorations seemed like overkill. Literally.

My hands went immediately to my weapons; my left to Shaker in bracelet form on my right wrist and my right hand to Riptide in necklace form around my neck. I could already sense something wrong in this place. Something dangerous. Thalia was rubbing her silver bracelet, her favorite magic item. I knew we were thinking the same thing. A fight was coming.

Luke started to say, "I wonder where—" The doors slammed shut behind us.

"Okay," I mumbled. "Guess we'll stay awhile."

I could hear music echoing from the other end of the hall. It sounded like dance music.

We stashed our overnight bags behind a pillar and started down the hall. We hadn't gone very far when I heard footsteps on the stone floor, and a man and woman marched out of the shadows to intercept us.

They both had short gray hair and black military-style uniforms with red trim. The woman had a wispy mustache, and the guy was clean-shaven, which seemed kind of backward to me. They both walked stiffly, like they had broomsticks taped to their spines.

"Well?" the woman demanded. "What are you doing here?"

I shot Luke a pointed look, silently demanding him to use his Hermes-acquired lying skills to get us out of this. Thankfully, he understood, if the wink he gave me was any indicator.

"Ma'am," he began in a soothing way that allowed him to lie so easily, "we were just—"

"Ha!" The man snapped, which made the four of us jump. "Visitors are not allowed at the dance! You shall be eee-jected!"

He had an accent-most likely French. While I was learning French, my teachers had me saying most of the words with the letter 'j' in them like that, at least. His nostrils flared when he spoke and he had two different colored eyes: one brown and one blue— like an alley cat's.

Finally, knowing we wouldn't be getting out of this without doing it, I stepped forward and snapped my fingers. The sound came out sharp and loud, signaling that I'd done it right, and a gust of wind rippled from my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Thalia smirk and Luke giving me a confused look.

"But, sir," I started, "we aren't visitors. We go to school here. Remember? I'm Allie and that's Thalia, Luke, and Brylie. We're in the eighth grade."

My lie wasn't remotely believable, but unless they were monsters, they'd believe it.

The man narrowed his two-colored eyes, but he seemed to be hesitating. He looked at his colleague. "Ms. Gottschalk, do you know these students?"

I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. A teacher named Got Chalk? He had to be kidding. The woman blinked, like someone had just woken her up from a trance.

"I... yes. I believe I do, sir." She frowned at us. "Allie. Thalia. Luke. Brylie. What are you doing away from the gymnasium?"

Before we could answer, I heard more footsteps, and Grover ran up, breathless. "You made it! You—"

He stopped short when he saw the teachers. "Oh, Mrs. Gottschalk. Dr. Thorn! I, uh—"

"What is it, Mr. Underwood?" said the man. His tone made it clear that he detested Grover. "What do you mean, they made it? These students live here."

Grover swallowed. "Yes, sir. Of course, Dr. Thorn. I just meant, I'm so glad they made... the punch for the dance! The punch is great. And they made it!"

Dr. Thorn glared at us. He looked like he wanted to pitch us off the castle's highest tower, but then Mrs. Gottschalk said dreamily, "Yes, the punch is excellent. Now run along, all of you. You are not to leave the gymnasium again!"

We didn't wait to be told twice. We left with a lot of "Yes, ma'ams" and "Yes, sirs" and a couple of salutes, just because it seemed like the thing to do.

Grover hustled us down the corridor, probably to where the gymnasium was. Thalia moved closer to me.

"I still don't know how you do it," she muttered. "Chiron started teaching me once I came back to life, but I haven't been able to get the hang of it."

"I don't really know. It took me like a year and a half to get it perfect, though. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. You've only been back for less than five months," I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

"That's true," she said and threw her arm around me, the two of us leading, even though neither of us knew where we were going.

I don't think Luke knew how to feel about the two of us being super close. I know he'd told me last summer that if the two of us met, we'd either be best friends or enemies. We didn't really know how to feel about each other at first, especially considering the campers still looked to me as the leader, which Thalia, I knew, wasn't used to. It irritated her, sometimes and it would only worsen whenever people would whisper about her being the backup plan, but after I'd stuck up for her and almost drowned a few guys who were saying that, we became two peas in a pod.

We would spend a lot of nights in one of our cabins and just talk. We would gang up on Luke, which he acted like he didn't like, but I think he was glad we were getting along. And we'd laugh about his siblings calling him a suicidal idiot for befriending possibly the two most powerful demigods in many years.

I snapped out of my wandering thoughts when we arrived at a door that had GYM written on the glass. Even with my dyslexia, I could read that much.

"That was close!" Grover exclaimed. "Thank the gods you got here!"

Thalia and I both hugged Grover and Luke gave him one of those bro-fist-bumps.

It was good to see him after so many months. He'd gotten a little taller and had sprouted a few more whiskers, but otherwise, he looked like he always did when he passed for human— a red cap on his curly brown hair to hide his goat horns, baggy jeans and sneakers with fake feet to hide his furry legs and hooves. He was wearing a black T-shirt that took me a few seconds to read. It said WESTOVER HALL: GRUNT. I wasn't sure whether that was, like, Grover's rank or maybe just the school motto.

"So what's the emergency?" I asked, feeling very ready to get out of there and change as soon as possible.

Grover took a deep breath. "I found two."

"Two half-bloods?" Thalia asked, amazed. "Here?"

Grover nodded.

Finding one half-blood was rare enough. This year, Chiron had put the satyrs on emergency overtime and sent them all over the country, scouring schools from fourth grade through high school for possible recruits. These were desperate times. We were losing campers. We needed all the new fighters we could find. The problem was, there just weren't that many demigods out there, and we couldn't exactly recruit three-year-olds to the cause.

"A brother and a sister," Grover told us, shifting nervously. "They're ten and twelve. I don't know their parentage, but they're strong. We're running out of time, though. I need help."

"Monsters?" I asked.

"One." Grover looked nervous. "He suspects. I don't think he's positive yet, but this is the last day of term. I'm sure he won't let them leave campus without finding out. It may be our last chance! Every time I try to get close to them, he's always there, blocking me. I don't know what to do!"

Grover shifted his gaze from Thalia to me multiple times, frantically.

"Right," Thalia nodded, planting her hands on her hips. "These half-bloods are at the dance?"

Grover nodded.

"Then let's dance," I shrugged.

"Okay, Miss Broadway Star, just because you're a dancer and cheerleader and what-the-hell-ever—" Thalia started.

"Who's the monster?" Brylie asked, her voice coming out small.

"Oh," Grover said, and looked around nervously. "You just met him. The vice-principal, Dr. Thorn."

Weird thing about military schools: the kids go absolutely nuts when there's a special event and they get to be out of uniform. I guess it's because everything's so strict the rest of the time, they feel like they've got to overcompensate or something. At the very least, I knew I wouldn't be super out of place in a bright red leather and latex Santa minidress. Only slightly.

There were black and red balloons all over the gym floor, and guys were kicking them in each other's faces, or trying to strangle each other with the crepe-paper streamers taped to the walls. Girls moved around in football huddles, the way they always do, wearing lots of makeup and spaghetti-strap tops and brightly colored pants and high heels. Every once in a while they'd surround some poor guy like a pack of piranhas, shrieking and giggling, and when they finally moved on, the guy would have ribbons in his hair and a bunch of lipstick graffiti all over his face.

Some of the older guys looked more like Luke— uncomfortable, hanging out at the edges of the gym and trying to hide, like any minute they might have to fight for their lives. Of course, in our case, it was true...

"There they are." Grover nodded toward a couple of younger kids arguing in the bleachers. "Bianca and Nico di Angelo."

The girl wore a floppy green cap, like she was trying to hide her face. The boy was obviously her little brother. They both had dark silky hair and olive skin, and they used their hands a lot as they talked. The boy was shuffling some kind of trading cards. His sister seemed to be scolding him about something. She kept looking around like she sensed something was wrong.

"They don't... you haven't told them, right?" Luke asked.

"You know how it is; That could put them in more danger. Once they realize who they are, their scent becomes stronger."

He looked at me, and I nodded. I'd never really understood what half-bloods "smell" like to monsters and satyrs, but I knew that your scent could get you killed. And the more powerful a demigod you became, the more you smelled like a monster's lunch.

"So let's grab them and get out of here," I said. I started forward, but Thalia put her hand on my shoulder. The vice-principal, Dr.Thorn, had slipped out of a doorway near the bleachers and was standing near the di Angelo siblings. He nodded coldly in our direction. His blue eye seemed to glow.

Judging from his expression, I guessed Thorn hadn't been fooled by my trick with the Mist after all. He suspected who we were. He was just waiting to see why we were here.

"Never mind, don't look at the kids," I ordered. "We have to wait for a chance to get them. We need to pretend we're not interested in them. Throw him off the scent."

"How?"

"We're three powerful half-bloods and another less experienced, but still powerful half-blood. Our presence should confuse him. Mingle. Act natural. Do some dancing. But keep an eye on those kids."

"Dancing?" Luke asked, a hint of reproach in his tone.

Thalia nodded. She cocked her ear to the music and made a face. "Ugh. Who chose the Jesse McCartney?"

Grover looked hurt. "I did."

"Oh my gods, Grover. That is so lame. Can't you play, like, Green Day or something? Literally our best friend over here is a Pop Princess, Superstar and you choose Jesse McCartney?"

"Green who?"

"Never mind. Let's dance."

"But I can't dance!"

"You can if I'm leading," Thalia said.

"Come on, goat boy." Grover yelped as Thalia grabbed his hand and led him onto the dance floor.

Luke smiled and I raised an eyebrow at him.

"What's got you so happy, Chief?" I asked.

"Nothing. It's just cool to have Thalia back."

I could feel my expression soften, and Luke tried to think of a new topic. Brylie got caught in a group of girls who were heading in Bianca and Nico's direction, so she joined them and, once she got close enough, made her way to them. It only took a few seconds before Brylie was sitting beside them, chatting with Bianca.

"How's being an A-lister going?" He finally said.

For the first time in a while, talking about my career actually made me happy. Things had been going so well in my career recently, despite my struggling with the last track on my next album. Without giving any spoilers, I told him about some new Marvel movies I was going to be in, still playing Celeste Stark, I told him about playing Aeverlynne Targaryen on Game of Thrones, Meredith Spades on The Walking Dead, and I told him a movie I'd starred in a little before finding out I was a demigod, Wonder Woman, was getting a sequel.

He listened as best he could, but I could tell he was getting lost with how many characters I played.

"Hey!" Thalia called to us just as I was about to start up my complaining about my struggles with figuring out the last song. She was slow dancing with Grover, who was tripping all over himself, kicking Thalia in the shins, and looking like he wanted to die. I didn't blame him. Thalia had a dangerous look in her eyes, one that usually preceded lightning bolts.

"Dance, you guys!" Thalia ordered. "You look stupid just standing there."

"Do you know how to dance?" I asked him, genuinely curious.

"Silena tried giving me lessons a year or two ago, but they didn't end up very well," he replied, smiling as if remembering Silena most likely losing her shit.

"Then follow my lead. It's not as hard as it looks," I said gently, grabbing his hand and shoulder. At the very least, he knew the starting moves.

After a little bit, I came to the conclusion that he was most likely lying, considering he was better than a few of the dance partners I've had in the past.

"You're a bold faced liar, you know that?" I asked teasingly.

He gave me a charming smirk. "Kinda part of my heritage there, babe."

I rolled my eyes as I started humming to the song, that one controversial Christmas song, Baby, It's Cold Outside.

I looked up at Luke. His already unnaturally blue eyes were brighter than usual as he looked at me. He spun me around once and I ended up looking over his shoulder to check on Bianca, Nico, and Brylie.

He was going to say something, but I completely stopped moving, which made Luke slip and almost faceplant.

"What—"

"They're gone," I said, transfixed on the bleachers where the siblings and Brylie had previously been.

"And Dr. Thorn's nowhere to be seen," Luke said, following my line of sight and then looking around.

"Go follow them, I'll get the others," I said and I didn't give him time to argue. I pushed through the crowd of people, looking for Thalia and Grover.

A group of boys walked past me, one of them stopping to take a double-take. His jaw dropped and I had to actually push him out of my way. Because of the heels and my natural above-average height, I was automatically taller than most of the kids there, so looking around should've been much easier than it actually was. I caught a glimpse of Luke running to a back exit of the gym and made a mental note about that being where he went.

I spent five minutes frantically walking all over the gym before I finally caught sight of Thalia and Grover at the punch stand.

"You know this punch actually is really goo—" Thalia was about to say, but I cut her off.

"They're gone."

* * *

previous | next

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#alliejackson #a story as endless as the ocean #asaeato #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

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faggotmox · 1 year

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the trip: downing a bag of mushrooms

rating: mature pairing: Jon Moxley/Bryan Danielson/Wheeler Yuta/Claudio Castagnoli, Bryan Danielson/William Regal, BCC Polycule word count: 4,550 warnings: Explicit drug use & description of mushroom trip, accidental drug use, bad trips author’s notes: Made a joke about Bryan doing shrooms, remember the this is not happening about accidentally eating a bag of shrooms & made a beat for beat fic with Bryan. Even though it's bad trip this isn't a dark fic, it's really goofy. No proof reading here. Sorry guys. This one goes out to Slap. summary: There is a good reason you don't eat the mushroom chips in your boyfriends personal bag. Bryan learned this the hard way when he eats Claudio's peace offering gift for Eddie.

Thinking back on it Bryan knows where things went wrong. Before the show started Claudio came into their locker room and handed both Mox and Wheeler each a bag of mushroom chips. Bryan had been heading out of the room at the time, for his interview, and figured Claudio would give him the extra bag later. Bryan was the first one done, his match going quick but leaving his peakish. A smile crossed his face as he remembered his very nice boyfriend had gotten them all mushroom chips.

Naively Bryan devoured the entire bag, popping chip after chip into his mouth. Once he was done he discarded the bag and changed into his street clothes to wait for his team. Wheeler filed in first then Mox and Claudio came through the door. Regal was somewhere doing the things he does. Claudio went over to his bag and started to frantically move things around.

“Mox, Wheeler.” Claudio looked at both of them. “Did you take the other bag I had?”

“Nah.” Mox shook his head. “As if one bag isn’t enough.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t it a peace offering for Eddie?” Wheeler questioned.

“It was.” Claudio nodded then turned pale. Very very pale as he looked over at Bryan. “Bryan?”

“The mushrooms were for Eddie?” Bryan asked in surprise. “I thought they were for me. I’m sorry.”

“…Bryan, did you eat the entire bag?” Claudio got up from his place kneeling and walked towards Bryan still sitting happily on his couch.

“Yeah. They were alright. Needed a little salt.” Bryan shrugged, not understanding why everyone looked so stricken by this revelation. “But they were alright. Never had mushroom chips before.”

“No, no…it’s not going to be alright.” Claudio sighed, rubbing his forehead as he looked at Bryan.

“If it’s about Eddie, we can just go get more mushroom chips. I’ll even pay for them. I didn’t mean to eat Eddie’s chips.” Bryan felt…oddly bad over this. He had mistaken that these were his and now Claudio wouldn’t be able to give Eddie something that was clearly important. “I’m really sorry, Claudio.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m not mad at you. Come here.” Claudio got close and pulled Bryan up off the couch before putting hands on either side of Bryan’s head. “I need you to listen to me very closely because it’s not going to be alright.”

“O-Okay…” Bryan shuttered, his eyes locking into Claudio’s very intense gaze. He had to look up at the taller man. This was how Bryan knew it was not going to be okay. “What?!”

“Do not use your phone because something is going to happen to you later, and you need to be in a safe place.” Claudio spoke slowly and clearly to Bryan as they continued their intense eye contact.

“Get your damn hands off me.” Bryan slapped Claudio’s away which made Mox and Wheeler snicker behind them. “They’re fucking mushroom, Claudio. Why do you need to be in a safe place after eating mushrooms? What the hell’s wrong with you? Get the hell out of here.”

“I’ll take him back to the hotel.” Mox spoke up. “We’ll get some food. You hungry, Bry?”

“Nah. I’m good. I just had all those mushroom chips.” Bryans shrugged.

Claudio and Wheeler were supposed to drive to another city tonight for a meet and greet. Regal was also leaving the show to somewhere else, but he was flying out. For some meeting or something. Not that they would leave Bryan with Regal in this condition. Mostly because all of them would probably realize that Bryan would lose his mind if his father figure was trip sitting him.

“It’d be really funny if you guys had to cancel your meet and greet because Bryan ate an entire bag of shrooms.” Mox chuckled as he gathered up their things.

“Obviously the press release wouldn’t say that.” Wheeler grinned as he watched Bryan just vibe a little, he’d never seen the man just vibe. “Oh, man, Mox, this is gonna be funny. I’m sorry we’re going to miss it.”

“I feel bad.” Claudio frowned as he watched Bryan as well. “He has no idea.”

“Don’t fuckin’ feel bad, C. He literally stole them from your bag because he’s a nosey, entitled bitch.” Mox said, and despite his words there was a lot of affection packed into the statement.

“This is on him.” Wheeler agreed.

“What are you guys talking about?” Bryan looked over at them, like he wasn’t right next to them and could clearly hear them. “Oh, Mox, can I have a Sprite though?”

“Yeah. Yeah, babe. You can have anything you want.” Mox nodded as he put an arm around Bryan.

“Can I have your mushroom chips too?” Bryan asked hopefully.

“Fuck no. You’ve had enough.” Mox shook his head and made a mental note to hide his bag when they got to the hotel. “C’mon. Say bye to Wheeler and Claudio.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Bryan wasn’t tripping yet but the euphoria pre-trip had obviously taken over because he had a soft smile on as he kissed his other two partners happily and gave them very tight hugs. “I love you guy a lot.”

“Keep that energy, Bryan.” Claudio laughed a little as he kissed the top of Bryan’s head. “You’ll need it.”

“You’re going to be fine. Just let Mox help.” Wheeler grinned as Bryan didn’t want to let go because the texture of Wheeler’s hoodie was too nice.

“C’mon, let’s get you outta here, George Harrison.”

Mox was able to get Bryan into their rental pretty easily. The euphoria made him malleable. Maybe it was hopeful on Mox's part that Bryan wouldn't start tripping until they got to the hotel. The stop for food and a spirit had Mox worryingly leaving Bryan in the car after he said he wanted to stay in the car since he ate all those mushroom chips and wasn't hungry.

While waiting for Mox, Bryan was totally good. Until two bright flashes happened. The blinding light made him blink a few times and frowned. Did someone just take a photo of him? There was another flash that startled Bryan so he looked out the window but there were no people.

“That’s crazy. So much flashing. No…must be fans?” Bryan mumbled to himself as he squinted. “I did just finish a Dynamite.”

Figuring it was fine somehow Bryan went back to just sitting there and waiting for Mox. It felt like a lot of time passed, the clock must be broken though because Bryan watched only two minutes tick by before something else happened. The car started to shake. Startled by this Bryan quickly exited the vehicle. It was scary, because it felt like an earthquake. Where were they? Were they somewhere that had earthquakes? Bryan didn’t know but he figured frakking happened everywhere so that meant earthquakes.

Bryan sighed, his shoulders slumping a little and his back relaxing. As he turned he could see himself in the reflection of the car and felt an intense spike of panic. He was getting smaller. He was shrinking!

“What the fuck?” Bryan stared at what looked like his shrinking figure. “Quicksand!” Realizing that he must be in quicksand Bryan jumped back into the car, his heart racing as he escaped the quicksand. Or at least figured it would be better to go down in the car.

The quickstand and earthquake were still very real threats to Bryan so he quickly pulled his phone out of his pocket. The fact that his fingers felt numb made it very hard to navigate the screen but quickly Mox was on his recently called list. Bryan couldn’t fumble the phone to his ear, since his hands were now numb, so he put it on speaker as it rang through.

“Bry?” Mox’s voice was calm with an undercurrent of concern. “You good?”

“Hey, Jonny.” Bryan said tensely because to be honest he was a little angry at Mox right now for leaving him in such a vulnerable position. “Listen to me, man. The fans are after me. There’s an earthquake happening. And apparently you parked your car by quicksand.”

“Stay where you are. I’m comin’.” Mox sighed. The fact Bryan was calling him Jonny was setting off alarm bells.

“I’m in quicksand. I’m not going anywhere, Jonny.” Bryan rolled his eyes because obviously, he had explained that already.

“Just stay where you are. I’m comin’.” Mox repeated and hung up the phone, figuring he was not too far away. Just inside the fast food place. Surely it would be okay.

It was not okay. As Mox approached the car Bryan noticed someone approaching the car. He squinted as the person came up to the door, rattled the handle and then looked into the car. The person then looked around the car then back in the car. Bryan was slowly rotating his body away from the person that was obviously Not Mox and very clearly trying to kidnap him. Another fumble of his numb hands brought the phone to his ear and Mox was rung.

“Mox!” Bryan yell-whispered into the phone as soon as it was answered. “Hurry up! Someone is trying to take me!”

“It is me.” Mox was exasperated on the other end.

“Who is me?!” Bryan demanded.

“It is me trying to take you to the fuckin’ hotel, but you locked me outta the fuckin’ rental.” Mox yelled in that quiet voice he got sometimes but Bryan heard it outloud the window and on the phone.

For some reason that made Bryan calm down and he unlocked the car so Mox could get in. The other grumpily got into the driver’s seat and thrust a bag of take out food at Bryan. The numb hands meant that Bryan had no coordination and dropped all over Mox’s food. The younger man stared at Bryan for a long moment before just nodding and buckling his belt so they could go to the hotel.

“Look when we get to the hotel, don’t talk to anyone. Just go to the room.” Mox said very flatly as he got on the road.

“I don’t know where else I’d go, Jon.” Bryan was very pointed when he said that.

“I mean, I’m gonna have to clean up that fuckin’ food and you’re gonna have to go upstairs by yourself.” Mox pointed at Bryan’s feet where the containers had spilled.

“Oh.” Bryan just shrugged as he watched the strange colors and effects whiz by the window.

They got to the hotel, and Mox made the mistake of sending Bryan up on his own. Bryan walked straight into the hotel. Just like Mox told him. He didn’t talk to anyone. He stepped into the elevator, and..stared. There was a painting neatly placed on the back wall, and Bryan was entranced by the swirl and bends of color. The cool air of the elevator eased him a little as well and he just stared. Bryan wasn’t sure how long he would just stare at a painting but Mox would later inform him that he was in the elevator for close to twenty minutes.

“Oh, this is nice.” Bryan mumbled to himself, his hand coming out to touch the fabulous painting in front of him.

The elevator doors opened and Bryan calmly turned around. At some point Bryan lost track of himself, probably back at the arena, and didn’t quite realize that he wasn’t in his room. Mox had said go to his room and not talk to anyone, he had done that. Right? His frowns knitted together as he stared at the woman on the other side of his hotel room door.

“Hey, ma’am.” Bryan stressed the title. “What are you,” again another stress on the word you. “doing in my room?” That time on my. The woman raised an eyebrow at Bryan as she slowly took a step forward.

“This is the elevator.” She put the same stress on the word elevator that Bryan had in his words. “What floor are you on?”

“I’m on six.” Bryan stated very matter of factly.

“I’m on four.” She got onto the elevator and punched both lights for the respective floors for them. The elevator took them up, and dinged for her up. It was a strange silence she broke. “Are you going to be okay?” She turned to look at Bryan once she got off the elevator.

“Ma’am, I’m going to six.” Bryam crossed his arms over his chest and nodded.

The doors slid closed before anything else could go on. The car took Bryan to the sixth floor. When the doors opened up Bryan blinked at the floor for another eight minutes. Another wave of panic hit Bryan as he looked at the wavy, colorful carpet that was very much not carpet but a swimming pool. Bryan stuck his foot out as he hugged the elevator door, just dipping his toes.

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s wet.” Bryan declared out loud before pulling his foot back into the elevator. He made a negative sound before speaking out loud again “Nope. I can’t swim.”

He brought himself back into the elevator and angrily hit the L for lobby. The elevator wooshed down to the ground floor again and Bryan stepped off quickly. He marched himself straight up to the front desk. It was late but there were a couple people around, actually a few who knew Bryan, but he didn’t notice as he walked up to the guy at the desk.

“Hey!” He started loudly. “What kind of establishment puts a fucking pool on the sixth floor?!”

“Are you high?” The guy leaned back, totally startled by Bryan shouting at him about a pool that very much wasn’t real.

“No!” Bryan's voice carried the most offense he could muster. Which was a lot of offense. He was very offended. So he turned himself around and marched back into the elevator with a huff.

The elevator took Bryan back up the sixth floor and he just decided he would swim. He had been taught how to swim a few years ago, he just hadn’t done it since. It would definitely be okay. This would be fine. He would swim to his room. After all Bryan was a god damn athlete and he could fucking swim if he tried. Maybe.

As soon as the door dings to open Bryan is greeted by a frantic Mox on the other side. Mox grabs Bryan, who thinks he is being grabbed because Mox knows he can’t swim. So Bryan throws his arms around the other and holds on.

“I told you to go straight to the room.” Mox sighed. It wasn’t like he had been searching for Bryan for the last almost hours.

“I tried but as you can see the sixth floor has a pool and I can’t swim, Jon.” Bryan gestured to the carpet. Mox laughed and held onto him a little tighter.

“Okay, okay. I see what’s happened here.” Mox gathered Bryan in his arms. “Don’t worry, I’m a great freestyle.”

Mox did a great freestyle all the way to the end of the pool. Bryan was very impressed, told Mox as much, but unfortunately they were at the room. They got inside. Bryan made Mox go in first then when he got inside he turned around and forced the door closed as hard as he could. That wasn’t enough. He leaned against the door, pressing his palms against the surface with all his strength.

“Hey, Bry…what ya doin’, pal?” Mox asked from a few feet away.

“If the mushrooms are on the other side of the door, they cannot get in to keep bothering me.” Bryan explained.

“Oh, boy.” Mox came up to him and carefully took hold of Bryan and carried him over to the bed the way Claudio had carried Mox that one time in the ring. “Okay, just chill. Sit here. I’m gonna put the locks on the doors for ya. Cool?”

“Cool. Thanks.” Bryan smiled at his boyfriend as the other man went to do just that. Then Bryan got the remote for the TV and turned it on. “Oh. Look at the grass.” Bryan said as he watched the most beautiful lawn he had ever seen on TV.

Mox had locked everything up and went to turn on the light in the bathroom. There were a few things he had to situate since he’d tossed everything into the room frantically to go look for Bryan earlier. Suddenly Bryan was crying out.

“Oh, no! Don’t do that to the grass!” Bryan was watching a lawnmower cut the beautiful lawn. There were even a few tears running down his face as he watched. “No! Why!”

“Oh, jeez.” Mox came over, carefully taking the remote and turning the channel off. “Hey it’s okay. The uh..the grass is fine, Bry. It just needs to be trimmed. Like a haircut.”

“O-Oh.” Bryan hiccupped as he pulled back to look Mox in the face, to make sure he was telling the truth. “A haircut?”

“Yeah, babe. It’s okay. It grows back.” Mox reassured.

Bryan nodded then got up, he started pacing around the room. It was becoming very clear to him that the mushrooms Claudio had planned to gift Eddie were not the mushrooms Bryan ate. Bryan started muttering to himself to get it together and that he’d be okay.

“Get it together, Bry. Get it together.” Bryan told himself and lightly slapped his face. “I can’t get it together. I’m weak.” Bryan cried and hit himself lightly again. It went on for a few more rounds before Mox stopped finding it amusing and came over to stop him.

“You’re okay, babe. You have it together. I promise. You’re the most together person.” Mox soothed but Bryan wasn’t feeling it.

“I just…I gotta wash my face. Gotta go wash my face. That always gets me together.” Bryan explained as he started heading for the bathroom.

“Oh, I don’t know if that is a great idea.” Mox followed him but Bryan waved him off.

“I got this. I got it together. I’m good.” Bryan repeated. As soon as he stepped into the bathroom and hit the light Bryan scratched. “Mox! The mirror! The mirror is attacking me!”

“Oh, fucking--” Mox came into the bathroom and stood in front of Bryan, between him and the mirro. “It’s not attacking you, buddy.”

Bryan finally calmed down enough to look at himself in the mirror. Mox stood off to the side, looking at his phone to try to let Bryan do whatever the fuck he needed to do to get himself together. Apparently. But Bryan was very distracted by the fact that one side of his face looked droopy and the other was fine. He squinted back and forth, looking at the difference, turning his face in profile.

“Oooh. Look at that.” Bryan pointed in the mirror, expecting Mox to see what he was seeing. “Ohh look at that!”

“Oh, man. We have to take a trip together sometime.” Mox chuckled as he watched literally nothing happening in the mirror. “You’re fuckin’ hilarious.”

“I gotta calm down.” Bryan mumbled as he leaned against the sink. “Wash my face. Yeah.”

“Yeah. Wash your face, Bry.” Mox affirmed, but went back to his phone. He was texting updates to Wheeler and Claudio.

Bryan grabbed the white cloth and started running the water. The soap from his overnight back was sitting out, thanks to Mox but Bryan didn’t know that. He started to clean off his face and when he pulled the cloth away Bryan’s eyes got huge. There on the towel, clear as day, was…his pigment. He stared at it, then looked down at his elbows to see the spots from his vitiligo then up at the mirror, seeing the same spots on his face.

“Mox?” Bryan’s alarm was going.

“Oh, my god. What’s now?” Mox was tired of hearing red in Bryan’s voice every time he spoke. Maybe they should have explained what was going to happen better.

“I-- my--” Bryan looked over at Mox and held up the clothes before pointing at his face. “My spots are on my face? I washed the pigment out of my face, Mox! I’m losing more pigment! I washed it all away--”

“Bryan, sweetheart, look at me.” Mox carefully turned the other man towards him and away from the mirror. Mox shouldn’t have let him near the mirror. “You did a backstage interview. It’s make-up. Here.” Mox carefully wiped away the rest of the make-up on Bryan and showed him.

“Oh my god, Mox. You washed-- you washed the rest of-- Do mushrooms make vitiligo wor--”

“Bryan.” Mox held up the rinsed washcloth and scrubbed at his face to show Bryan the make off coming off his own face. “See?”

After that Bryan calmed down again, washed his face, beard, and brushed his teeth. It took a long time because Bryan kept just getting distracted. At one point he tried to crawl into Mox’s hoodie, with him still in it, because he liked how soft the hoodie’s material felt. Eventually Mox just put the hoodie on Bryan and dragged him to the bed.

“If I go shower--” Mox asked, he still hadn’t been able to shower since his match. “Will you be okay out here? I feel like no matter what you say it’s gonna be no.”

“I’ll be okay. Sleepy.” Bryan mumbled as he sank and sank and sank into the bed.

“…Okay but I’m leaving the door open. Just come get me if anything feels weird or something.” Mox came over to kiss Bryan’s forehead just to get the dopey unguarded smile out of him before going off to shower.

Mox was absolutely correct because Bryan was pretty much not okay from the moment his boyfriend left. Bryan could feel himself getting all wound up again. It was time to bring out the big guns. He had to call William Regal. In Bryan’s head he reasoned he had to call the one person who cared about him which was Regal. Mox also cared but Bryan couldn’t bring others into this moment. He dialed Regal’s number and waited as it rang.

“Bryan?” Regal’s voice was sleepy as he answered the phone.

“Hey, listen to me. Do not judge me. I am in the hotel room, and I’m on mushrooms.” Bryan said in one full breath as he hid under the covers.

“Okay. Why? What’s wrong, Dragon?” Regal took a moment to answer, a lot of questions filtered through his mind but he decided not to focus on them. If he asked Bryan what had happened right now Regal was pretty sure Bryan would have a breakdown trying to explain.

“I’m scared, William. Listen,” Bryan swallowed around the thick anxiety in his throat. It felt chewable. “A lot of world champions died in hotel rooms.” Bryan started listing a few before Regal could stop him.

“Well then you haven’t got anything to worry about since you’re not a current world champion.” Regal said dryly as he cut off Bryan’s frenzied listings that had actually just devolved into him saying random names.

“Whatever, Mister!” Bryan shouted into the phone, feeling fully offended again tonight.

“I apologize, that was a little mean.” Regal chuckled into the phone.

“Okay, look I really need to calm down.” Bryan finally got to the reason he was calling.

“Oh.” Regal said calmly. Normally as if he was talking to Bryan about something very normal and regular. “Well, you need to drink some dairy milk.”

There was about thirty seconds where Bryan just replayed those words in his head.

“You don’t know.” Bryan scoffed and hung up the phone without a second thought. A third time offended tonight. Dairy milk, how dare Regal suggest he drink dairy milk. It finally dawned on Bryan to call the person who had the mushrooms to start with.

“Is everything okay, Bryan?” Claudio answered quickly, sounding concerned. Bryan missed the guilt in his voice but could hear Wheeler snickering over the car speaker as they drove together.

“Claudio, look, I’m in a hotel room and I’m losing it. I need to calm down.” Bryan said once again, hoping to get some helpful hints from the mushroom man himself.

“Ah. What you need to do is drink some milk.” Claudio responded in nearly the same tone Regal had. Calm and matter of face.

“Milk?” Bryan repeated. “Like…dairy milk?”

“Yes, Bryan. Dairy milk.” Claudio kept it short, he figured Bryan didn’t need to know seasoned tripper’s tip stories. Anyways Mox knew the milk trick.

“I gotta go.” Bryan declared and ignored Claudio, still trying to speak to him.

Bryan sat up in the bed, pushing the covers down as he ended his call to Claudio and brought Regal’s number back up.. As soon as Regal answered, cutting off his concerned hello, Bryan spoke loudly into the phone.

“Hey, junkie.” Bryan greeted his mentor, dragging out the word.

Luckily for everyone Mox was stepping out of the bathroom in shorts (which captured Bryan’s attention like the painting in the elevator). He even heard Bryan’s comment.

“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Mox came over to the bed, sitting down. “Claudio told you not to use your phone.”

“Jon, it’s me.” Regal said over the speaker.

“Regal?” Mox took the phone from Bryan, as a safety measure and to put it on speaker.

“Yes, darling, could you please get Bryan a glass of milk to drink. He needs to calm down.” Regal instructed the sober member of the pair.

“Oh, he’s gonna hate the milk trick.” Mox looked over at Bryan who looked very, very scared. “Bryan, you need to drink some milk.”

The phone was discarded as Bryan lunged, wanting to run away. This was how Mox ended up having to call Eddie, asking his friend to bring him milk and help out. Eddie, of course wanting to see a tripped out Bryan, quickly came to the hotel room. Being the asshole Eddie brought whole milk to give to Bryan, but said some shit about the omega 3 in milk helps ease the trip which finally convinced Bryan to drink the milk. Eddie only had a busted lip from the fight, but Mox got a black eye. Bryan was happily napping now.

“By the way,” Eddie looked up at Mox as he tucked Bryan in. “That’s some old wive’s tale. Milk doesn’t do shit, and it’d hurt his stomach. It’s fuckin’ oat milk I gave him. It’s something you tell people having bad trips for the placebo.”

“For real?” Mox raised an eyebrow, having heard that trick for a long time.

“For real. So, did Claudio give you a bag? Cause that dude, fuck him, but he knows where to get that lab shit.”

“Yeah, yeah. We can trip together tomorrow if you want. The bag Bryan accidentally ate was yours.” Mox grinned at Eddie’s cackle.

“Serves him right then.” Eddie dropped into the free bed. “I’ll stay in case he gets rowdy agian.”

“Thanks.” Mox had somehow been grappled by the sleeping Bryan and was being dragged into bed against his will. He risked waking Bryan if he got out of it so he just went down.

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