#everything from the past couple of days has me losing my mind

[petrovna-zamo]

[envy-of-the-apple]

Omg hi are your requests still open??? No pressure!

Unfortunately I am here as a Mahito simp and your twoshot of him has me in a chokehold. I’ve re-read that an ungodly amount of times now. That said, I can’t get the thought out of my head of Mahito noncon-ing a reader he likes who can’t see him, who is eventually able to see him in the midst of the act. Aaaaaa

sfjklsdkljsdkfjsdklfjsdlksj oh my god bestie you absolute genius hold on- alsosorrythistooksolong

(Dark!Mahito x reader)

Bed Bugs

(Yandere, dark content, implied somno, noncon, dubcon, choking-but veryvery brief)

You've been waking up sore lately.

Maybe you aren't sleeping, right? Maybe it's your bed. It might not be expensive, but you bought it solely for comfort.

The pain comes from your thighs. Aching. Numb. And if you looked closely, you swore you could see bites-

Bed bugs. That had to be it.

"I hate those fuckers," your friend groans, "I got a couple bites when I was staying in that cheap motel back in California? Lasted for a week."

"I was looking at exterminators. Everything's so expensive these days," you mutter, swirling your latte, "I don't even know how I got them. Ridiculous."

She hums. The cafe was quiet during this time, not too many customers. The two of you were tucked away in a booth, still nursing the expensive coffee. You'd already heard her rant about the inflation.

"Y'know, my friend's older brother has some kinda' homerun pest control gig. I can ask him about it. Maybe he can give you a discount? I'm pretty sure he specializes in termites but I don't think there's a real difference."

You eye her. "Yeah, no. Termites aren't in any way close to bed bugs. Besides, don't they use acid for termites? I'd still like to sleep on a bed that doesn't give me skin problems."

"See? I'm giving you solutions, and you keep rejecting them," your friend sighs, "I give up. I think you just got roommates now."

You laugh, about to respond, when you feel something dangerously close to your inner thigh. You glance down. Nothing.

"Uh, speaking of roommates, what did you say was happening with yours?" You change the subject, shifting in the booth.

"Oh yeah! Her and Dan are getting pretty serious, I think she's gonna move out soon."

"Oh really?" The touch came back. Harder. More insistent. You gasp when something grabs you by the hips, squeezing.

Your friend gives you a look. "You okay?"

You look around again. Nothing. Again.

"Um, yes! I am." You managed to respond, "Sorry, sorry, just....long day."

You clear your throat, plastering on a smile as you listen to her prattle about the drama in her life. Her voice distracts you from your thoughts swirling in your mind. Each getting more ridiculous than the last. 

You swore it felt like a...hand.

Work kicked your ass today. 

You'd never been so tired, practically falling asleep on the train. Crowded as always. You scrunched your nose as yet another person conveniently forgot to wear deodorant that day. Wonderful. 

At least, the day was over. You could resign to being as unproductive as possible for the rest of your night. 

You scroll through the forum. Almost everyone said that bed bugs- Cimex lectularius because now you've researched them so much you know their scientific name- are a losing battle. The final verdict is to get rid of your mattress immediately. Either that, or you'd need to call a specialized exterminator that cost at least twice the price of your current mattress. You didn't know which was the worst deal. 

You ignore the first few touches. Trains. Crowded area. People who don't understand boundaries. It's the swipe on your ass that makes you turn around and glare at the likely culprit. A sleazy-looking man in his late-forties. He barely even reacts, just arching a brow at your look. 

Typical. You inch away from him, squeezing past the other bodies until you're well past the other side. You lean against the window, blocking yourself from any other unwanted touches. Finally. Some peace. 

Until it started back up again. 

Something solid presses against you. Like-like a wall. Insistent, begging to be noticed. You're forced back, squished against the already small space. It wasn't your imagination. You can't delude yourself. It was real. A real hand was pressing against your pants, right above your clothed pussy. 

But there was no one there. 

What the fuck. 

The rhythm is rough, forceful as the hand starts grinding on your clit, sending tingles up your spine. You let out a confused whine, slapping a hand over your mouth as you squirm fruitlessly against whatever the fuck this thing was. You can't stop it. It's too much. Too sudden. You want it to stop but it takes you higher and higher and higher and-

It's gone just when the train rolls to a stop. All at once, the opposing wall disappears. You stumble out of the doors, legs shaking, panting. 

There's a whisper of a laugh right by your ear. You realize you're very wet.

What. The. Fuck. 

You could have deluded yourself into thinking it was a hallucination. That you were so tired from work you had an orgasm untouched. It sounded ridiculous, but it was plausible, right? Stranger things have happened. 

But, it just kept happening. 

The touches range. Sometimes, it's just a brush against your shoulder. A poke on your cheek. Other times it's more insistent. You can still remember the sharp spank on your ass in your very much-alone apartment. 

You were starting to think you might not be so alone, anymore. 

The worst was when you were out in public. It always happened in public. You'd be at work, typing on your computer when you'd feel a sensation on your pussy, grinding on you until you're close to cumming. When you'd break away to hide away in the bathroom, you'd always find your panties soaked.

Sometimes, you find yourself typing something ridiculous on your computer. Are ghosts real? Can apparitions touch the living? 

In one of these rabbit holes, you stumble across the word Spectrophillia. Forums of tons and tons of people sharing their own experiences that are eerily similar to yours. A woman describes her encounter with her own aspiration, saying that the thing had physical teeth, a physical tongue, a physical- 

You stop reading after that. A horny ghost. Is that seriously what you were dealing with? You weren't raised religiously, so the idea wasn't very appealing. 

Luckily, your doctor was a woman of science. 

"The symptoms you're describing are a very common indication of stress." She types away on her computer. 

You eye her, both in relief and incredulous. "Really?" 

"Of course," she says, "Trust me, people have come up with crazier stories. Now." She turns back to you, clicking her pen before writing a couple things down on her clipboard.

"I'll prescribe you diazepam. Take one two hours after you've eaten before night." She instructs. "Come back if you feel anything out of the norm." 

You nod, still a bit dazed by her answer. Stress, that's seriously all that this was? 

But it worked, oddly enough. The first night back from the clinic, you stopped feeling those pseudo touches. Your insomnia started going away. You started getting a proper sleep cycle. For the first time in weeks, things were starting to work in your favor.

And then you wake up to the sounds of your bed moving. 

Creaking. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 

Also, you feel...good. Really really good. Tingles shoot up your spine. A pleased sigh unconsciously escapes from your lips as the pleasure between your thighs grows. You're still incoherent, hips following the feeling. Hands are wrapped around your wrists, pressing them against the mattress. There's a puff of air against your ear. Tongue and teeth that nip against your throat. 

It feels like a wet dream, you think. Blearily, you open your eyes, fully prepared to see some Hollywood actor, your crush from work, a cute stranger. 

You see nothing but the ceiling. But the pressure only increases. 

Immediately, all sleep is gone. You wiggle and squirm under the sudden weight. Weight that shouldn't be possible, considering there's nothing there. Your scream is blocked by a hand clamping itself over your windpipe, squeezing. 

The panic is immediate. You're writhing, doing whatever you can to get air into your lungs. It's not working. You can't move your hands. You can't move your legs. You're dying you're dying you're-

"Can you see me now?" 

You can see him. 

You were expecting something a bit less inhuman. Apart from the stitches that litter his face, he looks familiar, in terms of shape that is. Two human eyes. A human head. Human lips that are curved into a grin. Human skin. 

He looks so normal. And that makes whatever is happening even more scary. 

He releases your throat, and you're sucking in mouthfuls of air, regulating your breathing. He hums in clear delight, leaning away so he straddles you. He tuts when you start crying, sobs wracking your shivering body. 

"Is that all you can do?" He clicks his tongue like he's disappointed in you. 

"Get off," you wheeze, wiggling away, "Get-get off." 

"Why? You were enjoying it a couple of minutes ago." It? You glance down at the mess of bedsheets, where he's still inside you, lazily grinding his cock back into your wet hole. 

Nothing about this makes sense. What was he doing-How can he be-How is he even real when you couldn't see him before? You can't think; your mind is still drowsy on fatigue and the medication. Fuck the medication? Is that why you can barely even struggle?

"What a-are you?" You manage to slur out, words slipping around your tongue like butter. 

He laughs like you just said the world's funniest joke. It only makes your stomach drop. You've never heard a sound so evil before. 

"That's kinda' rude. Your parents never taught you manners?" He drawls, "Mahito, that's my name! I know yours!" You hate the way he says your name with so much perversion. He's ruining the innocence, just like how he's ruining you. 

You open your mouth, intent on screaming, but at that exact moment, his cock slams back inside you. You give out a stuttered moan instead. 

"See? Told you: you like it." Mahito gloats and your mind swirls in and out of focus again. You're barely coherent, moaning and huffing underneath him. You feel disgusted at yourself. For being so okay with this. But-but you can't move. You can barely breathe. 

And, you note with reluctance, he's been doing this for a while. You're practically mid-way through your build-up, so close to an orgasm that you don't want. Given by a fucking monster. 

"Have you-have you been-" 

"Yeah, it's been me, for a while now," he answers without much cadence, "You were so close with the ghost theory. It was kinda cute watching you get so desperate. Finding whatever you could to check out of reality."

Oh. You get it. This was all a game for him. How long has he been doing this to you? Making you stumble around, drowning in your own paranoia. How long has this thing been watching you? Touching you. Fucking you.

"You, on the other hand, are on a whole other level with your delusion." He grins, showing teeth. "Fuck, seriously, did you think you were hallucinating me fingering you? At that point, I have to admire your creativity." 

You can barely focus on his words, not when his cock was digging you out. You were so close, practically on the precipice. He gives one more snap of his hips, and you're gone, pussy clenching around his dick, back arching.

The orgasm feels like it lasts for hours because he refuses to stop moving. He finally grants you mercy by spilling his cum deep inside you, forcing you to milk his cock as he lazily rolls his hips, forcing your oversensitive body to jolt. 

You catch your breath when the world stops spinning. When it grows quiet, you can only hear your own panting. Another wave of tears threatens to spill. 

"Aw, cheer up," Mahito purrs, "At least it wasn't bed bugs, right?" 

[mvybanks]

JJ maybank x reader when she tells him she loves him but he can’t say it back until she gets hurt really bad

the one where jj is scared of love

a/n: hii, hope you like it!

warnings: drowning

my masterlist

“i love you”

probably the three most powerful words you’ve ever said and the ones that bring you immense pain.

it’s been three days since you’ve told jj how you feel about him. you knew that it was a long shot, he’s your best friend and why would he say it back? but what hurt you the most was his answer.

“no, you don’t,” he chuckled humorlessly, “don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

how could he ever think that you don’t love him? your best friend, your person, the one that knows you like no one does. of course you love him. but he doesn’t think the same.

you’re perfect, you’re sweet and kind, you look at him as if he hung up the stars in the sky, why would you ever love him? he’s broken, impulsive, unreliable. that’s what he thinks of him and if you know him like he knows you, then you must acknowledge those things about him too.

therefore, if you didn’t mean those words then what was the point in saying them back, right? it’s painfully obvious to anyone how in love jj is with you. he’d do absolutely anything just for you and he would protect you with his own life if it ever came to it.

that day ended in a fight, one that was inevitable.

“why would i ever say i love you if i didn’t mean it?” your voice slightly raising as you couldn’t believe his words.

“you don’t! and stop saying it!”

“i love you, jj! why would i ever lie about that?” at that point you were already crying, confusion and rejection were written all over your face. he wanted to take you in his arms and apologize so bad, but you deserve better. you deserve someone that can give you everything you want and it’s not him.

it was foolish of him to not think that he is everything you want and need.

“i can’t talk to you right now,” he said, storming off.

and you didn’t. for three days.

today, you decided to clear your head going surfing. maybe the wind mixed with the salty air would help your heartache, or maybe you hope to see your favorite boy on the beach.

well, you were at least right on one thing: he’s here, but he hasn’t seen you yet. you soon realize that not even surfing can cure your aching heart. you surf wave after wave, your mind racing with the images of that night. you try to distract yourself, to focus on the water, the feeling of the wind in your hair, but nothing works. your inattention shows when you suddenly lose your balance, one of the biggest waves you’ve ever seen taking you as you breathe so much water that your vision gets blurry and your lungs give out.

jj was sitting on the sand, looking at the ocean in front of him, when he noticed you. not being able to talk to you in the past couple of days has been rough on him too. he can barely breathe without you and seeing you there in front of him again made his heart skip a beat, that’s how much he’s missed you.

when he saw you falling off your board, he got up so quickly that he almost lost his balance as well, his legs running to you while he called out your name over and over again, but you couldn’t hear him.

now he’s got you in his arms, your body limp against his chest. he gently lays you on the sand and he can’t stop the tears falling from his eyes. his hands fall on your chest, pressing down rhythmically with the sound of his heart, stopping his movements to breathe into your mouth after a couple of beats.

“fuck!” he exclaims when he realizes that you’re still not breathing, “breathe, baby, please!”

he won’t let that fight be the last memory he has of you, there’s absolutely no way he’s going to let you go in front of his eyes. he still hasn’t told you that he’s an idiot and that he loves you, he can’t let you leave him like that.

“wake up! yell at me, tell me you hate me or tell me that you love me again, let me tell you that i love you, please, just wake up!”

he punches your chest this time and your lungs finally start working again as you cough out all the water that was resting in them. you feel a hand on your back, stroking it while you’re bent on your side and trying to take deep breaths.

“that’s it, take it easy,” as much beaten up you are, you could recognize that voice anywhere, “it’s okay, easy.”

you let yourself fall on your back again and look up at the tear-stained face in front of you.

“hey,” your throat is sore and your voice’s hoarse as you speak but you still try to give him a weak smile.

“hey,” he grins down at you, smoothing your hair away from your face, “scared the hell out of me there.”

you close your eyes at his touch, so comforting and gentle you almost cry. then, one second you’re lying on your back, the next you find yourself in your best friend’s arms, hugging you so close to his chest you can hear his thumping heart.

“i’m so sorry,” he sniffles, “i love you, baby. i love you so much, i’m sorry.”

he’s crying again and you have to twist your neck to look up at him, your hand cradling his cheek while his forehead gently touches yours.

“it’s okay. you don’t have to be sorry about anything,” you whisper on his lips and he swears he’s about to faint at the feeling, “will you let me say it?”

he nods, “please.”

“i love you, j,” and his lips don’t waste another second without touching yours.

[causenessus]

Meeting Your Eyes. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou (ft. cranky jouno <3), tachihara

written in 2nd pov (female implied!)

song recc: my jinji by sunset rollercoaster

word count: 1492 words

lil scenarios of meeting their eyes <3 chuuya and tachihara get special treatment with lowercase names in theirs bc their just so soft and i love them so much but they're all so sweet !!! i refuse to write dialogue in paragraphs so sorry they're mixed with the headcanons (๑´ ^ `๑) hope u enjoy!! this is my slightly late valentine's day post <33

dazai

tries to meet your eyes the whole day at the agency

peeks above your laptop screen and to the side trying to grab your attention and pouts when you don’t look at him

solely because he wants attention or because he wants to convince you to go somewhere with him

Atsushi has discovered that it’s impossible to communicate with Dazai when he gets like this

the boy can only watch as Dazai progressively gets closer to you, and by the end he’s completely on his desk and leaning over yours <3

“[Y/N]...” he whined, using a hand to move your computer screen back and forth

“yes?” you said, keeping your eyes focused on the wobbling screen

“look at meee, please?” he inched closer to your face, almost breaking your mask

you know as soon as you look at him you won’t be able to say no

he’ll be giving you puppy eyes the entire day, and he knows that if he can get you to look at him, he’ll be able to convince you

“I’m sure Kunikida-kun wouldn’t mind if we went home a little early, can we please?” he continued to beg

you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to clear your mind, “even if he doesn’t mind–which I think is highly doubtful–I still have work I can get done. so the answer is no. you can hang in there, love.”

your words went through one ear and out the other, “can you say it while looking at me?” he was using a soft, quiet voice that was making it hard to stay strong. if he wasn’t so persuasive, you’d love to look at your boyfriend’s pretty face. it was already hard enough to not look at him even though you knew how convincing he could be

a hand brushed against yours, starting to play with your index finger as Dazai whined your name again.

you opened your eyes as you answered, “no, ‘Samu–” the moment you met eyes with him, your resolve faltered

he had the most adorable expression on his already endearing face that made your heart ache whenever he looked at you like this.

you averted your eyes as you silently closed your laptop, beginning to pack your bag, “...I suppose I could get it done tomorrow. and as long as it’s turned in by its deadline Kunikida-san will be fine with it.”

“oh! my belladonna!” Dazai exclaimed as he practically threw himself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck, “I knew I could convince you. let’s go home,” he gave you an innocent smile, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling away to gather his own things

chuuya

chuuya meets your eyes from across a corporate party

you’re the only one he can truly feel comfortable around in such a large setting. he feels safer knowing you’re safe when he’s around you and can see you

plus, he’s more than happy to walk around with you. he’s proud to be walking with the beautiful lady who’s turning every head <3 it’s even better because he knows that no matter what, you’re all his

he looks for you the moment he arrives at the party, searching the crowd for your face

he ignores anyone trying to talk to him or offer him something to drink. honestly, he waves everyone away, completely focused on finding you

he pushes past a couple in the crowd and suddenly he’ll see you; your eyes slightly wide and mouth parted as you meet his eyes from afar

as soon as you see him, you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him and he’s doing the same. you never take your eyes off of him, scared to lose him in the crowd again

when you finally meet, it’s like everything was set just for this moment. a beam of light perfectly shines over you both as you meet in the middle

“you look stunning, sweetheart,” he can’t help but say, hands trailing down your sides, resting on your hips

your arms drape across his shoulders and around his neck as you brush noses with him, “so do you, darling.” you both share a smile, continuing to look into his slate colored eyes. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

he can feel his heart start to slow as he relaxes in your hold. “so was I, doll,” as he stares into your eyes, he realizes that all he needs is you.

“say,” he murmurs, eyes lowering to watch his hands as they draw circles on your skin, “I know we just got here, but I just wanna be with you. wanna get out of here?” when he looks back up at you, his eyes are playful

“as long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go,” you respond, intertwining your hand with his as he starts to lead you through the crowd <3

tecchou

you meet eyes with Tecchou when you look across the table to find him already looking at you

your heart stirs, stricken by those pretty amber eyes, and he hasn’t even processed that you’ve caught him staring

he’s so entranced in you that he only smiles when you meet his eyes, his head resting on a hand

“Hiro, you’re staring again,” you say softly, your cheeks warm a little under his gaze

“I can’t help it, angel. I could stare at you all day and it wouldn’t be enough, you’re just too perfect.” <3

Jouno is most certainly not happy about it

“Tecchou-san, I can hear you ogling [Y/N]-san from here and I really wish you would stop. Please stop breathing while you’re at it,” he scoffs from the other side of the table

(it’s Jouno’s special way of saying he’s happy for you both <3)

probably how you ended up finding out that he liked you

he had never hidden how much he stared at you because he was never ashamed of it

you thought he was so charming when you first met him that you were surprised he would ever take interest in you

“it’s not just that you’re beautiful. it’s just like I can see how pure you are in character. everything around you is brighter, whether I’m looking at you or when I’m with you. it’s been like that ever since I first met you,” he answered when you brought this up the day he confessed

(ear plugs did not save Jouno in the room over who was reaching for a trash can

you try to hold his gaze whenever you meet eyes with him but you’re always the first to look away, face turning red while he only continues to look at you with a lovesick smile <3

tachihara

you’re the person tachihara looks to whenever someone says something worth sharing “a look” for or when someone says something funny

yk like when someone says questionable and you look to someone else like “did they just say that fr?”

that’s tachihara and you <3

whenever jokes are made, he laughs and looks at you to see if you found it funny as well

loves to laugh with you and make you laugh <3

he has a ton of inside jokes with you

for example, radios are heavily used in the mafia so that everyone can communicate

earpieces do their job, but despite the beauty of modern technology sometimes their audio can be so scratchy and incoherent. especially when people get farther away, the audio just gets harder and harder to understand

once, when tachihara took you out on a date and you both were walking around in a store, a worker came on to the intercom to say something but it just sounded like a jumble of fuzz and garbled words.

he nudged you with his shoulder saying, “sounds like hirotsu every time he tries to speak to us during a job.”

you both were crying, holding onto shelves and dying of laughter afterwards <3

and now every time during a job when you hear hirotsu through your ear piece, you both immediately look at each other with mischievous smiles and stifled laughter

even during the most serious of meetings–you both could be standing right in front of Mori and it’s like you guys have a telepathic connection

you both will look at each other simultaneously and share the same thoughts

meeting eyes with him always ends with you both having uncontrollable smiles that automatically spread across your faces <3

along with the knowing looks you two share, there’s so much love and adoration in your eyes for each other

he also knows that if you don’t meet his eyes or if they’re not as lively as usual, something’s wrong and he’s always quick to ask you what he can do to help <3

[markhoffmans-certified-slut]

Seven Minutes In Heaven | Stu Macher

Pairing: Stu Macher x female!reader 

Word count: 4.1K

Warnings/contents: Light smut, sexual innuendos, mild language, mentions of future sex, light clit stimulation, slight name calling. 

Notes: Well… I was gonna do Billy… But… here we are, and this is not Billy. Stu has been living in my brain rent free the past couple of days and I’m not sure how to get rid of him. Do I want to? I hope that you all enjoy this chapter, it was fun to write! 

<>~<>~<>

The party was crowded all around you. It was nearly midnight, but there was no sign of the lively crowd leaving or dropping any time soon. You leaned against the wall in the room beside the kitchen, watching everybody laughing, singing and dancing. You’d been going hard all night— drinking, dancing, singing, and bouncing around the rooms with Sidney and Tatum. So you were taking a break with a fresh drink. 

Your stomach had started to hurt less than an hour ago, but you ignored it and took another swig of your drink. Everything tonight was sort of a blur. You weren’t sure if it was because you’d drank too much, or because everything was going fast; people were everywhere, and yet, you hadn’t seen Stu, Billy or Randy in the past few hours. You had seen Tatum and Sidney constantly throughout the night before you departed to get a new drink and they went to the bathroom. 

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, nearly making you jump before you looked and saw Sidney. 

“You scared me,” you feigned annoyance at the woman who sent you a grin. “I thought that you were some creep.” She laughed and took a quick sip of her drink. 

“It’s only Tatum and I,” she said as Tatum rounded the corner and sent you a smile. 

“Guys— have you seen Randy tonight?” 

“Uh, I think he was in the kitchen last I saw,” you said innocently, earning a cackle from Sidney. 

“She means that she thinks he looks hot.” You gave a quick laugh and tossed your head back on her shoulder. 

“No! Not Randy Meeks!” 

“What— it isn’t my fault. He looks hot tonight.” You and Sidney shared a laugh that made Tatum roll her eyes. “Come on guys— let me get over Stu how I please.” Her words felt like something that should have made you stop laughing and teasing, but you knew for a fact that she was over the man she’d previously been with; shockingly, he had been the one that broke up with her, despite Sidney’s constant bothering Tatum to break up with him. 

“Any way you want— just not with Randy.” You heckled the woman who sighed dreamily and leaned against the wall on your other side with a cup in her hand. You took a quick glance inside of it and chuckled. “Maybe you’re losing your mind because you’ve been drinking too much.” 

“It has to take a lot of shots to get with Randy,” Sidney sent Tatum a grin that she ignored. 

“I haven’t drank that much.” She told you, but you were quick to raise an eyebrow. You’d been with the two a majority of the night, and you knew for a fact that Tatum had drank nearly as much as you— possibly more in the short time that you had been separated. 

“Sure, Tate,” you shrugged the conversation off, knowing not to argue with her about this right now. She was far too drunk to accurately retort right now and it felt crude of you to continue teasing her. “If Randy is what you want…” You gave a soft blow from your mouth. “Fuck it. Then go for it.” Tatum hesitated, a slow smile spreading across her face as she pushed herself off of the wall with her shoulder. “Whoah— I do not like the face you just made,” you watched the woman start to head off across the room and shared a worried look with Sidney. 

“Should we… follow her?” 

“Probably.” The two of you made your way through the crowd, trying to follow the back of her head as quickly as you could to not lose her, but you were worried you’d accidentally end up following the wrong person if you got bumped into or blinded for a moment. By time the two of you made it off of the crowded makeshift dance floor, you saw Tatum across the room whispering something to Stu. 

You shared a quick, shocked look with the woman beside you before you looked back and saw him laughing and nodding. Tatum met your gaze across the room and waved in the air, beckoning the two of you over. 

“What are you talking to Stu for?” Sidney asked with a raised eyebrow. “I thought that the two of you were… well, not on speaking terms.” 

“I have a plan,” Tatum said with a cheerful grin. “We’re going to play seven minutes in heaven! It’s the perfect excuse to get Randy into the closet with me.” After a moment of silence, you spoke. 

“Why don’t you just get him into a bedroom upstairs with you?” She seemed to think for a moment before she shrugged. 

“I didn’t think of it.” You went to speak again, but she cut you off. “Well, it’s too late now. We both have something to gain from this anyways.” She sent you a wink that made your stomach tighten. 

What the hell did she mean by that? 

“Tatum—“ 

A whistle came over the room as the music abruptly stopped. People groaned and looked around in confusion. Stu stood on a table, waving a hat around the room. 

“It’s time for seven minutes in heaven!” Drunk people in the room started to cheer at his excitement. “We’re splitting into 3 different groups since there’s so many of us. Those of you who don’t want to play can stay here. Everyone else, split into groups and follow me.” Tatum grabbed your hand, so you grabbed Sidney’s hand, and quickly ran towards the direction Stu was going. You nearly stumbled over your feet on the way to the living room. “Alright— so we have 3 hats, I’m gonna do a headcount and put a slip of paper into the hat for every person in the room.” 

“How do we know who’s who?” Someone called. 

“I know. Billy knows.” 

“What if we don’t trust you?” Sidney asked with a raised eyebrow at the man who chuckled. 

“Okay— I’ll let one more person know the numbers for each group. (y/n)— you can have the numbers for our group,” your attention drifted off as you watched the man continue to speak, anxious about the game. You didn’t want to play— you did not want to get trapped in a room with any of these drunk people. But at the moment, it didn’t seem like you had a choice as Tatum squeezed your hand. 

“Thank you,” Tatum whispered to you quickly. You sent her a small, tight smile and watched the room start to disperse. Stu walked towards you and gestured for you to follow him. You let go of the girls hands, your own feeling clammy and numb. You hadn’t realized that you were anxiously squeezing their hands so tightly. 

“Whatever number Randy or Tatum picks doesn’t matter. We’re gonna say it’s theirs so they get locked in a closet together.” He spoke simply. “As for everyone else, we’re gonna go clockwise so that it’s easy to remember. I’m not sober enough to remember everybody in this room.” Feeling queasy, you sent the man a quick nod. 

“Sounds good to me.” You were quick to walk away from the man when he turned to Billy and went to sit between Tatum and Sidney. Sidney sent you a pat on the back while Stu jutted out the hat at the first victim of the circle— someone that you didn’t know the name of. He pulled a slip of paper out of the hat and called out the number. 

“Six.” You quickly looked around the group, counting clockwise to the sixth person and seeing another girl. She had long red hair, but you weren’t sure what her name was. For the most part, you knew about a total of five people at Stu’s parties— him included. 

The two got up, following Stu to the coat closet across the room. There were several spread throughout the house, giving plenty of room for every group to have one party go at once. 

He blocked the door with a chair and walked back to the group with his phone in hand, starting a timer for seven minutes and sitting down with the group while it counted down. The thought of spending seven minutes locked in a tight space with anybody in this room made your stomach churn. 

“Randy, I dare you to take 3 shots of (y/n)’s drink.” You looked at Stu, shocked: nobody said anything about playing another game while people were in the closet. 

“What— you didn’t let me choose between truth or dare!” He complained. Stu shrugged, clearly not caring and not going to change his mind. Randy looked at you and sighed, scooting closer and reaching for your drink that you outstretched tentatively. 

“Don’t give that back.” Randy almost looked offended. 

“I’m not sick!” 

“I don’t want your germs in my mouth.” Randy rolled his eyes, moving back to sit where he was previously since you didn’t want the drink back, and took 3 large shots into his mouth and winced. 

“God, (y/n)— this is strong,” he complained. You laughed at the man and watched him set the drink down with a grimace. Randy took a moment to get the taste from his mouth with his own drink before he looked around the circle for his next victim. “Hmm… Sidney… truth or dare.” 

“Truth,” she said, not trusting the look on Randy’s face. 

“Did you or did you not fuck Billy last weekend?” Her face warmed and you snickered; she should have known a truth would be just as bad from Randy as a dare. 

“Uh… I did.” She avoided eye contact with Billy who stole a quick glance at her. “God, you’re a pervert,” she mumbled, glancing at Tatum and wondering why she wanted to be locked in a closet with him. Just before Sidney spoke to pick her next person, the timer on Stu’s phone went off. He held a finger up to pause the game and got up, walking towards the closet. He moved the chair and abruptly slammed open the door, clearly wanting to catch the two in the act of doing something, and yet he only found them kissing sloppily. 

“Time’s up, love birds.” He shoved the two out of the closet, snickering when the girl was flushing and went back to the circle with her head down. Stu shook the hat and walked towards you, stopping with the hat right in front of your face. You reached up and into the hat, digging around until you felt like you found the right piece of paper. 

You pulled it out and looked at it. A 4 was scribbled on the paper. You looked to your left and met Sidney’s eyes. 

“Thank god,” you mumbled quietly, watching her laugh. 

“Well, then.” Stu smirked. “Come on, ladies.” Sidney rolled her eyes at the man and stood up. 

“Don’t be a pervert.” She grumbled, walking towards the closet with you. A quick look was shared between you and Stu. He sent you a wink as you walked into the cramped closet with Sidney. Stu shut the door and almost immediately you heard the chair scrape across the floor. 

“Seven minutes!” He called before he walked away. You gave a sigh and leaned back against the wall, brushing your hair back from your face. 

“I’m so glad it’s you I’m in here with.” The room was so dark you could barely see her, but you could see the woman enough to watch her smile. 

“Yeah— I agree. I did not want to be in here with one of those drunk guys. They look like they could barely stand.” You laughed and shook your head. 

“I wish Tatum had wanted to play this game when everyone was more sober.” 

“Or not at all,” Sidney grimaced. 

“Well, maybe you’ll get locked in here with Billy.” You teased the woman who gave your shoulder a slap. “Alright— alright!” You shoved her hand away with a grin. “I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Speaking of being locked in here with people…” She hesitated, confusing you. 

“What do you want to do, make out?” You teased the woman. 

“Absolutely not. I was wondering— have you seen Stu tonight?” 

“Uh— yeah? I was talking to him not that long ago about the game.” 

“Yeah, but that isn’t what I meant.” 

“I’m confused.” 

“He’s eyeing you like he wants to fuck you right there.” You choked on your own spit and nearly had a coughing fit. “I’m serious! He’s so eye fucking you.” You couldn’t tell if she was annoyed or not by her tone. She sounded half-disgusted and half-teasing. “The wink?” She added. “Stu doesn’t just wink.” 

“Stu flirts with everyone,” you said when you finally caught your breath. “He’s not eye fucking me, he’s just being… ugh.” You didn’t know what to say. You weren’t oblivious. You had seen him out of the corner of your eye a few times, but that didn’t mean that you thought that he was staring at you specifically. Wasn’t he just kind of a whore? 

“All I’m saying is that you better wish upon a star you don’t get locked in here with him or you’re gonna be caught naked.” You gasped and made her laugh. 

“I don’t want to fuck him. Even if he wants to fuck me— nobody said that I wanted to fuck him.” 

“Tatum fell for him.” You gave a soft scoff and looked down. 

“Whatever.” She reached over and gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder; the two of you stood in silence for a few minutes before the door opened and Stu looked in. He raised an eyebrow and stepped aside. 

“Boring.” Was all he said. “Randy, Tate— you’re next.” You raised an eyebrow and looked towards Tatum who stood a little too quickly. 

“What?” 

“We let Tatum choose while the two of you were still in here.” Stu sent you a knowing look and let Randy and Tatum inside the closet. She sent you an excited look and you swore that you saw Randy blushing before Stu shut the door and put the chair in front of the door. He took his time starting the timer on the way back to the circle. You went to go sit beside Sidney, but a cold hand caught your wrist and pulled you down. You gave a soft sound in shock and looked at Stu as he turned on the timer and leaned towards you. 

“What’s up with Tatum wanting to fuck Randy?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear. You felt ashamed as your face heated up as he spoke. 

“Uh, I don’t know.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and gazed across the circle at Sidney who looked like she was going to burst. You sent her a sharp look. “She just mentioned it tonight. Maybe she’s just drunk. Why? Jealous?” You finally looked at the man again. He had a single raised eyebrow. 

“Me? Jealous?” He laughed. “No way. I have options.” You quickly looked away as the man eyed you too intensely. “Sidney,” he spoke, eyes still trained on you for a moment before he looked at her. “Truth or dare?” She hesitated for a minute, thinking about her last choice and the truth she had to answer. 

“Dare.” He smirked at the girl and looked at Billy that sat a few feet away from him. 

“Sit on Billy’s lap until I pick out of the hat.” 

“Wait—“ 

“What’s the matter? You were just on his dick last weekend.” He said, as innocently as he could. She shot him a look and almost pleaded with her eyes at you. 

“I can always, uh… take the dare instead.” You said in an attempt to save your friend from the embarrassment. 

“No,” Stu spoke quickly, shaking his head. “This is for Sidney. Sid, sit on Billy’s lap for the next few minutes.” You shrugged gently and sent her an apologetic look. 

‘I tried’ you mouthed at the woman as she stood and walked over to Billy. You didn’t bother looking over and watching her, knowing that she certainly didn’t want to be seen in a moment like this. With a content hum, Stu looked around the circle then at the timer on his lap. There were still four minutes left for the two in the room and nearly half of the people had left while you and Sidney were in the closet. 

“Well… unless you wanna kiss me, there’s not much else we can do.” Stu spoke. It took a moment for you to realize that he was talking to you. 

“I’m not going to kiss you. I wasn’t going to choose dare anyways! It’s not even your turn again!” You blurted out shakily. He snickered and rested back on his hands. 

“Alright. Guess we get to wait.” The room was awkwardly silent. The music was quieter than it had been all night, but it still made your teeth feel like they were buzzing even after all of this time away from the loud room. 

Being able to hear your breath made you feel self-conscious, so you glanced at Sidney and saw her stiff against Billy who had a hand on her leg. She caught your gaze and gently shook her head as you bit back a smile. 

The timer going off nearly made you jump. Stu got up slowly, stopping the timer and grabbed the hat instead of heading for the closet. You looked up at the man as he shoved his hand into the hat. All of the papers were still in there, even for the people that had left, but he smiled when he picked up his piece. He handed it down to Billy as Sidney scrambled off of his lap and stood up. 

“Gotta run to the bathroom,” she mumbled to you as she passed by you. You were too distracted watching the two share a quick, quiet conversation. Billy sent Stu and quick smirk as Stu laughed and stood up straight again. He headed over to the closet as Billy pocketed the paper and looked at you. 

“Let me guess, you?” You asked hopefully. Billy stood and stretched his legs with a shake of his head. 

“I hope your breath smells good.” He teased, moving to sit on the sofa as your face fell. You watched as Tatum straightened her shirt and sent you a grin. Randy’s face was bright red as he aimlessly followed Tatum towards the other room. Nobody was left but you, Billy and Stu. Fingers grabbed your own, the same cold, slender fingers that grabbed you before. You dug your nail into the side of your free thumb and looked at the man. 

“Just you and me now,” he winked at you and tugged you towards the closet. Billy followed the two of you to the closet, giving Stu a slap on the back as he got into the small, cramped space with you, and shut the door. The chair scraped across the floor and hooked underneath the handle. 

“Seven minutes.” Billy spoke through the door and walked away. You were dead silent, fearing to even breathe. Stu shockingly didn’t smell purely like alcohol. Instead, he smelled minty, like he’d recently had gum. The lingering scent of his cologne was in your nose as he stood so close that you swore you felt his body heat. 

“I’m guessing you and Sidney didn’t do what we’re about to,�� he spoke in a tone you had never heard from him before; enticing, flirty— dare you say it— sexy. You clenched your jaw and tried becoming one with the wall. Stu got closer, his breath along your warm cheekbones. 

“We don’t have to do anything.” You spoke quickly. 

“This is seven minutes in heaven. That’s the golden rule of this game.” He grasped your waist and pulled you flush against his chest. You gave a soft gasp and pressed your palm flat to his chest. “You’re gonna tell me that you don’t want to kiss me like I wanna kiss you?” He teased. “You’re not struggling. You’re not yelling or hitting me.” Stu nudged your chin up and leaned in, his lips brushing gently across yours with the slightest kiss that you didn’t return. 

Your breath hitched and earned another laugh from the man in front of you. 

“Yeah. You don’t want to kiss me.” He mumbled beneath his breath, ignoring your silent protests as he pressed his lips to yours. Your fingers grasped at his chest, legs shaky as the man held you close. You struggled for a moment in his arms, but Stu was persistent. His tongue brushed along your bottom lip and made you flush. Involuntarily, your mouth opened for the man that pushed his tongue into your mouth and grasped tighter at your hips. 

The fight in you seemed to have abandoned you as you finally leaned into the man. Stu reached his hand down, groping at your ass and earning a soft gasp from you as he pressed your hips to his. His fingers grasped your thigh, edging it up to wrap around his waist in an attempt to feel your body completely pressed against his own. Your face was hot as you felt the obvious hardness in his pants. 

“You feel how hard I am for you?” He teased between feverish kisses that you leaned in to even when he pulled back. “It’s sure as hell not for Tatum fucking Randy in the bathroom upstairs.” He snickered, sliding his hand up your side and groping at your breast over the bra that you wore. 

Stu left your lips with a soft ‘smack,’ but before you could even react, he leaned down to press a few scattered kisses to your neck. Stu’s fingers were long and strong, groping at your breast and making you give a soft moan in return to his lips sucking on your skin. Stu gave a devious chuckle and pulled away from your neck, shoving his lips back to your mouth as his opposite hand slid along your thigh. You shifted against the man, leaning closer to him and making it easier for his fingers to press to your clit over your clothing. 

“Better stay quiet. You wouldn’t want anyone thinking that you cave so easily, would you?” He laughed at you as you gave another small moan at his fingers rubbing small circles on your clit. Your body tingled at his touch, at the kisses that he pressed to your lips. Stu knew he had you when his fingers pushed into your pants and you didn’t even falter. His fingers pressed to your entrance over your underwear and he gave a chuckle. “You’re wet,” he mumbled against your lips. “Are you a little slut? Getting horny for me in the closet? Are you into the thought of Billy hearing you moan for me in here?” 

“Mmm, Stu—“ you grumbled in complaint as he chuckled. He pressed another kiss to your lips and shoved his fingers into your panties. You squirmed against the mans hands as his fingers rubbed bare at your clit. You were getting desperate, the alcohol in your system wasn’t making it easy on you to make the right choices. 

And as Stu pushed one of his long fingers inside of you, it was too hard for you to stop. 

Stu easily sensed how desperate you were as you clenched slightly around his fingers. He chuckled, pulling his hand back and sucking off his fingers before he reached over and pounded on the door. 

“As sexy as this is, I’d rather go to my room and keep your moans and screams to myself,” he pressed a kiss to your neck as footsteps started heading to the closet. His warm breath hit your ear as he whispered to you. “I’m gonna strip all of this off of you and fuck you until you’re soaking the bed.” You gave a soft sound beneath your breath in embarrassment to his vulgar words, something that earned a devious chuckle from the man that stood over you. 

The light coming from outside nearly blinded you as you squinted and tried to adjust to the drastic light change. 

“That wasn’t seven minutes.” Billy’s familiar voice spoke as slender fingers grabbed your own quickly and started to lead you from the closet. You glanced over, seeing Sidney sitting on the ground with flushed cheeks. She sent you a confused look, something you shrugged at. 

“I decided I need more than seven minutes.” Stu sent his best friend and wink before he tugged you after him. “Come on. Let’s go to my room. You won’t regret it.” 

[sameschmidtdiffname]

heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))

But of course!!!

Wanting, Waiting

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.

Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

This page is mocking me.

The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.

Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?

'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.

I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.

Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.

For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.

Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.

A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-

"I thought we talked about this."

It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.

"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."

"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.

"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.

Except it makes me feel guilty.

"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.

Details. Fuck.

"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.

"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.

I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.

"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.

"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"

Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.

"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.

"I slept," I insist.

"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.

"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.

"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.

He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.

"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.

"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."

My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.

"It's not that serious, Mikey-"

"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.

There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.

"Michael-"

"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.

"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.

"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.

"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.

"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.

"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.

"We had a conversation," he starts.

"A conversation," I repeat.

"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.

"You ha-"

"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."

"Mike-"

"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."

Fine.

"It's fucking rude."

Not saying it's not.

"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.

I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.

"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.

"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."

Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.

"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."

"What?" I ask, blinking.

"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."

Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.

"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"

Verbally, I'm fine.

"You're going to bed, that's final!"

"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"

"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.

"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.

"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.

"Just let me write one page," I try.

"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."

"That's not going to kill me," I argue.

"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.

One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.

"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.

"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.

"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"

"Michael-"

"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."

"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'

"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."

"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.

"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.

"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.

"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"

"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.

This breaks the tension.

His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.

"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.

"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.

"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.

"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."

"Please, I don't want-"

"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.

"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.

Good.

-

When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.

I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.

He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.

"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.

There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.

But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.

I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.

So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.

-

It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.

The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.

Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.

"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.

"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."

I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.

"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.

If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.

"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."

In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.

"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.

Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.

"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.

"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.

"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.

"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.

"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."

He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.

"Mike-"

"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.

"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.

"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.

"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."

I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.

"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."

"I don't-"

"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"

"Mike-"

"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."

At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.

"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."

Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.

Just like us.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[chrollohearttags]

miss cherry, i hope that this november is treating you well!!! the new layout is everything ❤️ i can’t stop thinking about how musician!eren would react to getting the phone call about y/n’s fall injury 🫣 no doubt in my mind that he drops everything to rush to the hospital and be by her side!!

heeey honeybun! This month has been great to me (injury aside) but I can’t complain. Hope it’s been good for you as well! 🫶🏾 I appreciate you so much. And wheeew, I swear y’all are gonna make me put my babies through it! 😫 but since were still on the angsty pain train, let’s get into it. (This is so sad, I’m sorry!)

THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU

it felt unreal…time seemed to have frozen at that very moment and the only sound that could be heard was the egregiously loud heart beat nearly thudding from his chest. Those words..they couldn’t have been true. It was a lie..a complete and utter lie..and even so…

“Wait! EJ! Where are you going?!—“

“Mr. Jaeger! This storm is terrible. There’s no way you can drive in it!”

all useless chatter as far as he were concerned. There wasn’t a storm or anything otherwise that would stop him from getting to that hospital right now. He had to go see..see for himself the condition that his baby (y/n) was in. Even if you claim you hated his guts at the moment, even if you were angry with him..it didn’t matter. None of that mattered. As long as you were okay. You had to be..you had to be okay or he was going to truly lose it.

“If both of you know what’s good for you, you’ll get the fuck out of my way. Now move!”

brushing past his assistant and manager as if they were nothing more than weightless figments. Breezing past them with nothing more than his phone in hand and the sheer panic coursing through his veins. Truthfully, Floch was right. There was no way he was in any condition to be driving right now. Not just because of the typical torrential Florida downpour being increased by that of a tropical storm but the fact he hadn’t slept in two days. Running on fumes and adrenaline. But perhaps his biggest motivating factor was love…love that transcended everything. Including any problems the two of you may have been experiencing. Regardless, he’d hop into the front seat of that McLaren, pressing the button to start the engine and peel from his driveway like a bat from the gates of hell.

how could he not when he had just received a phone call that nearly made his heart stop?..

“Mr. Jaeger. This is nurse Collins from Jackson Hospital. We have a miss (y/n) (l/n) here..you were listed as her first point of contact. Among the people here asking for you..she’s been brought in to our facility in critical condition—“

that was all he could handle before he imploded and enough to send him blindly flying into the night to make it to you. He didn’t know the extent of your injuries or what even happened but immediately, his phone was exploding with texts and calls from your girls. Who had also stopped the performance to be by your side. Your best friend Niesha, who was by all accounts the silliest of the group was too hysterical to even speak. She sounded devastated but he assured her she was on the way. “It’s okay, Niesha. I’m on the way. Please, just tell me what happened.” But luckily, his best friend and her boyfriend, Armin was already there to comfort her and decided it best not to break the news over the phone. “Dude, just get here alright. Please…and drive safe. Don’t you need in a bed next to her.” Which made perfect sense. If they divulged the severity of your injuries over the phone, he would undoubtedly lose control and in this weather? That wasn’t wise.

however, they were all waiting…holding their breaths to hear what was going on. He hadn’t seen you in a couple days but when you spoke to him over the phone, he recalled what you said to him the last time he saw you:

“You know I still love you, right?…tell me you know that. We’ll get through this. I just need some time, okay?”

“Of course…I love you too. Please..just come home, (y/n). I’m so sorry but I promise that nothing happened—“

“I can’t..I can’t face you like this. I can’t face you when I don’t know how I’ll react. I’m hurt, Eren. I’m so mad at you..when I asked you about it, you pretended I was stupid. You didn’t even bother to clear it up. Just told me I should know better. That’s not fair…it’s not fair that you pretend not to give a fuck about everybody else’s feelings. How can I marry you like that?”

among laughing at you when your comments were filled with hate, saying it should’ve been them together and not some “stripper.” Telling you to ignore it as he always did. And other awful things..only after talks of possible infidelity and heartbreak had taken over your relationship. You were devastated to even think that he’d cheat on you and with his manager nonetheless but that was for another time. Right now, that all was irrelevant. What mattered was that you were okay. What would have normally been a fifteen minute drive was cut in half as he breezed down the freeway. Doing eighty five in a sixty mile per hour zone.

he’d careen that two seater right up front to the entrance way and come running through those doors like he was some sort of track star. His all black clothing and half tied hair soaked by the rain but he didn’t care.

“EJ!” Four voices cried out in unison as they bum rushed him. It was your girls and fellow members of the Pole Assassins. They all seemed to have been crying their eyes out and when they saw your man there, they all rushed to him as some pillar of comfort. He’d hug each of them before begging to know what happened. armin, who joined them right after would dap his best friend up before hugging him as well. Assuring him that it would be okay. He seemed desperate and depleted but nothing could truly prepare him for what he was about to hear…just then a doctor would come out and greet everyone, updating him on her condition.

“And you are?”

“Her fiancé. What happened?”

and that’s when he’d reveal the extent of your injuries. Four broken ribs, a fractured forearm, a head contusion and internal bleeding as you made a direct hit to the floor from fifteen feet in the air. The silver lining was that they were able to immediately rush you into surgery and stop the bleeding so you were no longer in life threatening condition but you were not out of the woods by a long shot and they had to keep you under close care if they didn’t want that to happen. And the physical shape? Well, needless to say, he’d need a minute before he saw you..

“Well can I see her?! Where is she?!—“

already crying before the doctor could get the words out. But he assured him that once you were moved from recovery, he’d allow him in. All he could do was wait..he felt fucking useless! And all he could do was collapse into a nearby chair with his head in his hands. Normally, they’d take that as a sign that he was about to explode but right now..he was just heartbroken. Grief stricken and sobbing..it was extremely hard to see because it proved just how much he truly cared for you.

“..how did this happen?..”

softly questioning and causing everyone else’s eyes to well up in the process. That’s when they’d explain the situation. Armin had been hosting for an event, DJ’ing and the girls were performing with him; hence the leather dance attire they were all still dressed in with only their signature letter-mans to cover them and tall heels. They noticed you seemed off but figured that it was just due to this whole ordeal with him. They didn’t blame him at all though. They knew you could be stubborn too so they figured it was mutual and it all would blow over. But you also seemed detached..as if you weren’t even there. They begged you to sit the show out if your heart wasn’t fully into it because half hearted energy created mistakes like this one. You were performing great all night but there was this emptiness behind your eyes. And when you went to go attempt your signature solo move, the Kiss of Death; a harrowing combination of three of the most complex pole tricks in the game. And dubbed so advanced that no other dancer in the world could recreate it. You were spinning and climbing the pole at rapid speed..trying to reach the center point of the pole before the beat dropped so you could come dropping down into a split. A trick you had executed so many times, you could do it in your sleep. But it wasn’t a misstep that sent you flying to the floor. The truth was..you had already fell unconscious before you hit the floor. Niesha glanced over to see you and your eyes were narrowed and your features was blank. Brianne, who was in your opposite side said the same. And when the beat drop came, rather than some elaborate split or twerk, you landed face down onto the hard floor. Causing gasps and screams to arise from the audience. You fell directly on your arm which spared you from a brain bleed or skull fracture but your arm was toast for the time being. They immediately called EMS and canceled the remainder of the show..it was awful. Who knew how long it would take you to recover or if you’d ever dance again at all..

“I knew I shouldn’t have let her go out there. She had been out of it all day and I didn’t say nothing—“

Niesha, who was the most devastated just continuously sobbed. Comforted by her boyfriend, who was holding her close. “It’s okay, baby. It’s not your fault..none of us could’ve known this would happened. Just try to calm down.” But seeing the girl she called a sister like this? She was inconsolable. And there was still the possibility that your condition could return life threatening at any point. But all they could do was pray. They didn’t know if you had taken something prior that put you in this state or what. As for Eren, he had heard enough and just got up to see if they’d allow him in without saying a word to anyone else. They didn’t bother to stop him because he too didn’t place fault on them. The burden was solely on himself..he shouldered every bit of that guilt and he felt he was the only one to blame. Had he been a little more attentive of your feelings, you never would’ve fought and you never would’ve been so out of it, that you’d make a mistake. Luckily, the nurse had just gotten word that you were out of recovery and in the ICU. They’d never seen someone so resilient. Although they were hesitant, the nurse let him and took him to where you were. And when he reached the glass partitioned room; yellow curtains drawn to shield you, the nurse would ask one more time:

“Are you sure you’re okay to see her?” And he nodded. Unable to be sure himself but he had to. He had to see his princess. He owed you that much..

and once he entered…his heart nearly stopped. There you were, dressed in bandages from head to toe. Breathing tube in your nose, cast on your arm and wraps on your legs..you were conscious but just by an inch. One could only guess that he was the reason. You needed him there but even so..you were in horrible shape.

“Princess..” the words barely making it out before he kneeled by your side. You could see him but only faint glimmers. You were still groggy from the medication and being in pain but it had been an hour or so since your emergency procedure. Truth was, it took them nearly an hour to get there after you were already taken because of the horrible traffic and trying to clear the venue. They didn’t even have an ID on you when you came in. Hell, Armin and the girls didn’t even know what hospital you were at. By the time they arrived, you had just gotten out of surgery. So it was natural that they informed him right after. But being his normal self, his phone was tucked away during his work session and he didn’t pay attention. You could’ve been much worse and he didn’t even bother to check..he was a horrible fiancé!

“I-I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry this happened to you. It’s all my fault.”

it was all he could utter. He was on his knees, cradling your hand and crying as he apologized over and over. Sorry for the fact that he didn’t answer sooner, that he didn’t come to your rescue, that he had made you feel less than your worth and not do anything to put your mind at ease. More than likely, you had become so worked up about this situation that your heart rate got too high and you fainted. And he’d be correct. You were constantly thinking of him and when you heard his voice on the song that was playing, the same one that you had practiced to several times and had even gone viral for when you danced during his shows, the memories of everything came rushing back, causing you to have a panic attack and with the rush of it all, you got too worked up. Either way, this was his mess to fix. But he felt powerless…all he could do was just sob and beg your forgiveness.

“Please…I don’t care if you hate me. If you never want to see me again but please be okay. I should’ve never let you leave. I should’ve been there for you, (y/n) and I wasn’t. I’m so sorry, you deserve better than this. I love you—“

amid his rambling; head bowed before you, he’d suddenly feel a hand to his tear stained cheek.

“Eren…stop that.” The words barely even reaching a decibel as you murmured them. He’d immediately grab it and gently hold it. He’d look up to see you just slightly looking at him. He was so relieved you were still here!

“Baby!…” trying to wipe his eyes but couldn’t control it at this point. He was a mess and didn’t care who saw. But he wasn’t the only one falling apart. Just then he’d hear sniffling and your already faint voice cracking.

“Stop crying… ‘s not your fault.”

but he couldn’t be sure. He felt entirely and fully responsible.

“I’m just so..I’m so glad you’re here.…I thought you hated me.”

The words sending sharp pangs through his heart as you whimpered. Because he could never, even if he wanted to. The fact that he had made you feel this way made him question if he even deserved to be in your life. He was so ashamed. How could he ever allow you to feel like that?! Maybe you were right, maybe he couldn’t marry you like this…

“..I couldn’t even if I wanted to…” just then, his eyes would swell all over again, his soul filled with sadness and anxiety because what he was about to do next, would undoubtedly shatter both of your hearts into pieces. “That’s a relief…I’m sorry I..worried you—“ No matter what you said or how many times you repeated it, this was his mess to fix. He made you feel as if you meant nothing. It was true, nothing happened between he and Mikasa. It was a line that neither of them could ever cross..he didn’t feel that way for her and it was true, you were the only woman he loved. You were his everything!…but even so, he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve to have someone like you in his life if he couldn’t appreciate it. All of these people talking, disrespecting his lady and what had he done to make it right? What had he actually done to quell your insecurities? He was selfish to a fault..because of that, you were hurting and not just physically, thanks to his ignorance. Grasping your hand once more as you faded back into unconsciousness, he’d kiss the top of your hand. That’s when he’d reach for his own and slide off the silver band from his left ring finger, placing it onto the bed next to you.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n)….I love you. I love you so much..”

with that, he got up to walk out..fighting back the urge to break down. Feeling as if there was a hole in him..as if a piece of him just died right then and there.

“But this is goodbye. I hope you find a man that can treat you right. Someone who deserves to call you their wife. You won’t ever have to be hurt by me again. I promise..”

Because he knew it would be the last time he saw you.

[shuugumi]

ex-husband! gojo satoru has two left feet. whether he's on the dance floor at a wedding or a party or even during living room dance parties his dance moves are a unique blend of awkwardness and enthusiasm.

your daughter has also seemed to take after her father's genes of the two left feet. you watch from your assigned table the two hand in hand trying to moonwalk on the dancefloor. the two of them acting like seasoned dancers on dancing with the stars until satoru takes a few steps back and loses his balance. stumbling himself although in utter surprise his daughter helps him sturdy himself.

you watch the two dance on the dance floor as you take sips of water from the assigned seating you were sat at. giggling and smiling away at the two having fun and enjoying themselves.

“he’s cute isn’t he?” one of the guests at the wedding blurted out to you as she sat down next to you in satoru’s seat. you nod, “he is, isn’t he..” you trail off, looking back onto the dancefloor to seeing satoru holding kara in his hands, bouncing away to the hip-hop song playing.

it warmed your heart.

you’ve never had days like this. seeing satoru so care free and enjoying himself. enjoying not worrying about being ready to save a person from evil curses. satoru wore his sunglasses along with a perfectly tailored black suit; white button down shirt that hugged his biceps so deliciously.

you were too in thought to notice them waving at you. “daddy!!” kara shouted after she was startled by satoru showering her with kisses all over her face, using her small but growing hands to push away the love bombing father.

“daddy? is that his child?” the woman asked and you looked back over to her, “mhm…that’s our child. we’re divorced though.” you answered and the womans face was in awed. “divorced? how could you divorce that hunk?” she exclaimed and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“if only you knew..” you trail off, chuckling at the past memories that flashed through your mind that until the DJ had announced for all the couples to fall into the dance floor with their partners.

“you don’t mind if i ask him for a dance?” the woman asked and you shook your head, “not at all, go ahead!” sparking with a smile the woman walks towards satoru and kara. the woman talking to satoru and you watch. that until your daughter comes running up to you.

“hey lovey! you and dad having fun?” you giggle as kara runs into your legs and you pat her on the back. “so much fun! i love when we all together!” kara exclaims as you bring her up to sit on your lap.

“may i have this dance?” his voice was, serious. determined that he would have this dance. you looked up to seeing satoru standing in front of you with his hand out. a light smile appearing on his face.

“me?”

“of course. it’ll be like when we got married…for old times sakes.” he says, gesturing his hand out again and you were hesitant. “go mama! dance with daddy!” kara commanded, satoru and you laughed. swiftly grabbing his hand after and putting kara in place of you on your seat.

“stay there my love.” planting a kiss on kara’s head, satoru guides you to the outter part of the dance floor so that the two of you would still be in close presence to kara in case anything happened.

endlessly by alina baraz had started playing. your heart started to accelerate, feeling warm memories of your own wedding day. satoru snaked his arms around your waist and subconsciously your arms found a way around his neck.

it was quite for a little. “this song played at our wedding too. it was our first dance song if i remember correctly.” satoru spoke, breaking the silence and you nervously look up to his crystal eyes. “you…remember?”

satoru chuckled before tightening his grip on your waist, “how could i not? i got married to the love of my life…”

blood rushed to the apples of your cheeks as you thought about everything that satoru had been through and the reason why you divorced him. it made you feel…sad and sefish. bringing your body closer to him, resting your face on his chest he also finds a resting spot in the crook of your neck.

“i am sorry satoru.” you utter into his suit as the you both swayed in unison to the next slow song that had been queued. “i still have you in my arms even if we aren’t together…i got a beautiful daughter out of it. don’t gotta be sorry for anything.”

it was quite as you two embraced each other. swaying on the moonlit dance floor as the playlist of slow love songs continued to play. moments like these made you long for these experiences once more but you knew it couldn’t always be like this.

at the end of the day, satoru and you still love each other deeply even if there are still unspoken and unresolved problems that hinder your relationship to ever being what it once was. you still find yourself slipping on the engagement ring satoru presented to you all those years ago before going to bed. and satoru finds himself always, slipping on his wedding band no matter where he goes.

“why didn’t you agree to dance with that other attractive woman? she was into you y’know…”

“cuz i didn’t want to dance with her. i wanted to dance with you dummy. stop trying to be a wingwoman, i only ever want you.”

[moooncats]

✿ PAC : Love Letter From Your Future Spouse ✿

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✿ Pile 1 ✿

Hello beautiful, did you miss me? I know that everything has been so hectic but I swear you are such a fighter. I love the way you have this no tolerance go getter attitude. You are truly my muse. You transform the most mundane things and make them into gold flecks that flutter into the air and it's just awe inspiring. I have searched all over the world, met many inspiring people in my life and none of them compare to you- you captivated me, lured me into your beautiful unique aura and I can never forget that moment. I knew then, that you had to be mine. I thank the heavens everyday because you are the person I get to wake up next to- what a blessing! I must have done a lot of good in my past life to meet you. It truly is a gift being in your presence! We mesh together perfectly, your hand in mine, our bodies intertwined. I can't believe that manifesting someone as yourself actually worked. Our vibrations match perfectly as we are in tuned with each other. Like a root deep underground, it's vast and everlasting. That is our love, we will grow stronger together and I am missing every second, minute, hour that I am away from you my love. I can't wait to make it back to you so we can start our forever life together, and we can do it all over again in another lifetime. Please wait for me goregous, I love you with all my hearts. Sending my love to you from every universe. I know you can feel its warmth. ♡ Yours truly. ♡

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✿ Pile 2 ✿

Hello goregous soulmate. I can't believe that it's that time of year again. I know you love letters from me and I've made you so many already but just know that every letter I write are my true authentic feelings. There is so much going on in my head everyday and most of it is because of you my goregous soulmate. You have encapsuled my love and intertwined it with your beautiful soul. I am forever grateful of your presence every day. You changed me so much and for the better. Before I was aimless in life, no drive, aspirations, no hope... then you came along. With your sunshine aura and I couldn't get enough of it. You are the light that guides my wandering soul out of the abyss. You are my forever muse. I can't wait to grow old with you and start that family we've always talked about, until then I have only my words to keep you going through these times. My will and determination to get us everything we deserve and need in life. You will never have to ask for more, anything you want you will have it my love. I love you so much goregous please don't ever change. ♡ Yours Truly. ♡

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✿ Pile 3 ✿

You're not mad at me are you? I know I've done a lot of things in this life that have made me feel regrettable, but this- this is the one that tops it all. I am human... we all make mistakes. Please don't fester any bad feelings for me my delicate little flower. You know I had you in mind the whole time and I thought it would be best for the both of us. Everything I ever do, my thoughts, my actions, my feelings; I always take you into consideration. You are my everything, my delicate flower that I must protect. I will do ANYTHING for you baby. You don't know how much you mean to me, the day we met was the best day of my life. I will never forget locking eyes with you for the first time. My heart instantly went into hyper drive, it just wouldn't stop. I knew then that you were the one. The way you move gracefully through the shit show that is life is just mesmerizing. Life has taken so much from you... from us. We are 2 souls who were once lost but when we get together, we become 2 partners intertwined and formed into 1 power couple. I know you know this my love, words can't express how much I feel about you. You are my muse, my world, my will to live. I won't lose you this time, not again. ♡ Yours Truly. ♡

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[heavcnslyre]

chapter one - j.f. ( masterlist )

GORGEOUS.

“ocean blue eyes looking in mine,

i feel like i might sink and drown and die”

the air outside was cold, which was shocking for a mid-june morning. you were awake early, as you often were since you preferred to be productive in the mornings, but today it was for a different reason. you had barely slept all night. this morning, you were returning to susannah’s beach house in cousins. you looked forward to this day every year, and it was always just as special every time it came around.

“you all ready?” a voice breaks your silence as laurel peaks her head out the front door, watching you sit on the porch swing. you smile at her.

“definitely,” you say. “coffee on the counter, did you see it?”

she walks over to you and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “i did. thank you. now get your bag in the car, we’ll leave in twenty.”

“can i drive?” you ask, following her inside. she shakes her head.

“already told steven he could.”

as she says it, steven comes down the stairs and ruffles your hair as he walks past you. “sorry!”

“no you’re not,” you grumble, turning away to grab your bags. you had just gotten your license less than a month ago but steven has had his for months, so he usually got first dibs on driving. you usually didn’t mind, but the drive to cousins was special to you, and you would have loved to be able to make the drive yourself. not driving, you thought, would at least give you more time to prepare. although, you would have appreciated the distraction. this year felt different. you felt different. you weren’t really sure if it was a good different or not.

part of you was terrified, for some reason. most summers, you went to cousins completely disconnected from the world back at home. cousins was it’s own world, in your mind. the people, the house, the entire atmosphere, it was magical. it absolutely transported you, and you let it. this year, you had a connection to back home. your boyfriend, peter. you and him started dating two months ago after your best friend cassie introduced you to him, and things have been incredible ever since. if you were honest, you had never really committed to a guy before him, but it seemed to be working out well so far. the reason why you were terrified, you figured, was because this trip to cousins could change that. jeremiah fisher could change that.

you had talked to plenty of guys, even dated a few for a couple weeks or so, but as soon as jeremiah fisher comes around, you lose sight of everything — and everyone — around you. he somehow has that effect on you, and he has your whole life. but you do really like peter, so you told yourself you wouldn’t ruin something good for yourself again, just because you’ve always been waiting for jeremiah. you’ve made a fool of yourself enough over the years, attempting to get closer to him as he flirts with everyone in the world, that you know it was time to change something.

you just hope that you’ll be able to stick to it.

“(y/n),” you’re woken up by your sister belly poking your side, “(y/n), you’re drooling on me.”

you groggily open your eyes and stretch, moving away from her, “sorry bells.”

“s’kay,” she yawns. “we’re almost there, anyways. and your phones been blowing up. all from peter,” she says the last part teasingly, pushing your phone towards you. you laugh as you unlock your phone, seeing that she was right, and peter had texted you seven times.

peter: good morning!!

peter: sorry ik you’ve probably been up for hours

peter: omg and youre probably almost to the beach already

peter: miss u already

peter: there’s a party tomorrow night i was thinking about going to if that’s okay with you

peter: cassie’s gonna be there and stuff and you know i’ll be thinking about you forever so you’d have nothing to worry about

peter: just let me know if you’re comfortable with it okay?

you: oh my peter

you: you don’t need my permission to go have fun!!! of course you can go to the party :)

you: just text me and keep me updated okay? and make sure there’s a DD

peter: of course. you’re the best!

you: 🤍🤍

you smile at your phone and as soon you look back up, you were entering cousins. you didn’t realize how long you had slept for, but as soon as you saw the sign, your heart skipped a beat. you were back. you were back, and everything was good, including your lovely boyfriend back home. this summer was going to be perfect, you just knew it. your fears from this morning were fading and you decided that no matter what happens, you’re going to be okay. you’re going to have a great summer.

“did susannah get a new car?” steven asks as he pulls the car into the driveway of the house. laurel nods, a small smile forming on her face as the house comes into few. the same smile was present on everyone’s faces in the car. this place was so special to all of you.

“yeah, she gets bored with her cars easily,” laurel finally says, a hint of distaste in her voice. “she just likes to change things often.”

steven was barely listening and was halfway out of the car by the time laurel was done talking. his eyes were set on susannah, who was standing at the doorway, watching your car pull in. she looked as beautiful and radiant as ever, and even more so, especially since it was obvious that she was healthier now than she was last summer. her hair got longer and the glow on her face was back, lighting up her eyes and giving her the most approachable demeanor possible. she was perfect.

you get out of the car shortly after steven, and follow him up the steps to hug susannah tightly. she rubs your back as she hugs you. “oh sweet (y/n), you beautiful girl. i’m so happy to see you.”

“i’ve missed you so much,” you say back, and she gives you another squeeze before letting you go and hugging laurel. you look down by the car at steven, who was now talking to jeremiah, who had his back to you. your breath caught in your throat when you saw him, but you shook it off. that was not what this was going to be. he was one of your best friends, your family. that was all. that didn’t stop your heart rate from speeding up the second that he turned around and your eyes met his beautiful, bright blue ones. his face softened as soon as he saw you, but his smile remained just as wide. you move towards him and he watches you, his eyes never leaving yours as you approach him.

“(y/n),” he says, looking you up and down and grinning. “you look different.”

you knit your eyebrows and look down at yourself. “good different?”

jeremiah laughs. “always good.”

you giggle and wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you into a close hug. you take in his scent, a mix of saltwater and his vanilla cologne, the one that conrad and steven have always made fun of him for. they always say it makes him smell too girly. you have always thought he smelled perfect.

“i have so much to tell you,” jeremiah says as you pull away from the hug. “this summer is going to be amazing!”

“i can’t wait,” you grin. the two of you always spent the first night sitting on the beach after dinner, talking all night. he would fill you in on his school year, and you would fill him in on yours. it usually ended with both of you in the ocean and sandy, but it was always one of your favorite traditions.

as you turn away from jeremiah, belly rushes out of the car and pulls him into a hug and he spins her around. your eyes catch on conrad, who had just rounded the corner of the house, and was staring at them. he meets your eye and smiles sheepishly, knowing that you had caught him. you smile and go pull him into a tight hug. “hey connie.”

“hey (y/n). it’s good to see you,” he says. as you pull apart, his eyes are caught on belly again, who is staring at him this time, too. you smile at the sight and push conrad towards her gently. the corner of his mouth slightly turns up and he walks to her as you walk back over to jeremiah and steven, who were giggling to themselves. when jeremiah sees you walking towards them, he waves you over quickly.

“belly flop time,” he says, a wide grin on his face. you laugh.

“yes!” the three of you walk towards conrad and belly, who were laughing with each other, seemingly in their own world.

“hey, i don’t know about you guys but…” steven pretends to check his nonexistent watch on his wrist. “i think it’s time…for a…belly flop!”

belly squeals as the boys grab her, conrad carrying her by her armpits and the other two grabbing her feet. you giggle and lead the way, opening the gate to the pool and letting them pass through. you and the boys count down from three and they throw belly in the water. you all laugh as she flails around, her clothes completely soaked. your smile fades as the boys turn to you, mischievous smiles on their faces. “no.”

“it’s not fair to only throw belly in there, is it?” steven says innocently. you shake your head and attempt to run away, but before you can, jeremiah has his arms wrapped around your waist and lifts you effortlessly in the air. steven and conrad help him and grab your legs, counting down from three just like they did with belly. she dove out of the way as the boys throw you into the water. luckily, the water was warm, and while the feeling of your wet clothes was uncomfortable on your skin, the water was quite refreshing. belly giggles as you swim towards her and pull her into a hug, but in the hug, you whisper in her ear. “let’s get back at them?”

she nods as if she read your mind, and when you pull apart and begin to approach the edge, she’s suddenly struggling. “wait, wait guys, my ankle.”

“what’s wrong belly?” conrad asks. she continues struggling in staying afloat.

“i…i hurt my ankle i think. i cant walk on it,” she reaches her arm out to conrad. “help me out.”

he reaches out, and as their hands connect she pulls him into the water and the other boys burst out in laughter, jeremiah doubling over in laughter with his hands on his knees. taking advantage of this moment, you grab his hands and pull him into the water too, completely catching him off guard as he falls into the water next to you. now steven is standing on the edge, struggling to breathe from laughing so hard. “no way they got both of you!”

jeremiah flips his hair out of his face and looks up at steven. “c’mon steven, waters nice! you don’t wanna be left out, do you?”

steven shakes his head, still laughing. “i think i’ll survive being left out today. these shoes were expensive.”

“lame!” jeremiah calls out as steven walks towards the house, his laughter still echoing in the air. jeremiah turns his attention to you and swims over to you, grabbing your waist and spinning you around. “i’ll get you back for pulling me in here.”

you laugh. “sure you will. c’mon, let’s go dry off for dinner.”

he hops out of the side of the pool and offers an arm to help you out. he pulls you out of the pool with ease. “race you upstairs?”

“that sounds dangerous,” you say. “wet feet on tile and hardwood floor? with your clumsiness?”

he mocks offense. “you think i’m clumsy? ridiculous.”

“jere, you tripped over a penny on the beach last summer,” you say. “and i don’t think we’ve had a summer here where we haven’t had to bring you to the e.r. from some injury.”

“the sand is trippy!” he claims. “and i just live an adventurous lifestyle. which is why i’m totally beating you upstairs.”

“better catch me first!” you say and immediately take off sprinting, up the stairs to the porch and through the sliding glass doors, which you attempt to close in front of jeremiah, who caught up with you quickly. carefully, you run through the house but the slippery floors really did make it difficult. soon, you’re halfway up the stairs and jeremiah is right behind you, laughing. “you’re such a cheater!”

“i’m just smarter than you!” you yell as you approach your bedroom, which was right next to his. he shakes his head.

“no way. just a cheater,” he grins at you one more time as he enters his bedroom, closing the door behind him. you walk into yours as well, your head spinning from the first thirty minutes you had spent here. jeremiah made everything around you feel insignificant and you felt like you were floating when he touched you. and for the first time in your life, you hated the feeling. you were with peter now. you had to focus on peter, not jeremiah.

it was hard to do that when you were spending the next two months living with him, your rooms right next to each other, and the walls thin enough that you could hear everything in each others rooms. whenever he played music, you heard every word. every conversation, every ounce of laughter, every time either of you cried. it was good, having a close connection to him, but you knew it was just going to make things so much harder.

[dancingtotuyo]

drabble. love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears

Woman | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: some days, the fear still lingers.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, panic attack, hurt & comfort

Notes: yeah I saw that picture too and it sparked a bunch of inspiration.

Words: 787

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Peace is hard to come by in this world. Even within the protected walls of Jackson, it alludes you with ease, but you manage to find small pockets of it. As your life has changed, as you’ve grown these past couple of years, it’s easier to come by. Joel’s hand in yours on your evening walks. Mornings spent in his arms. Pancake breakfasts with your kids. Ellie’s continued fascination with everything new. The rise and fall of Carter’s chest as he sleeps, limbs spread like a starfish. Willa’s head on your chest. Joel’s soft snores. It’s so easy now, lulling you into a false sense of security. 

It hits you without warning from time to time, the fear of losing everything again. You can be standing in the kitchen laughing at a joke and that little voice echoes that it’s only a matter of time before the hundredth shoe of your life drops. Sometimes you can push it away, diving back into the moment, but not always. 

Joel seems to sense it if he’s around, the tense of your shoulders, the glaze of your eyes, and the way you still. That’s what happens tonight with Carter chatting on at the kitchen table as he colors and Willa cooing contently as she plays with her newly discovered hands in a laundry basket as you chop vegetables. 

Joel’s hand covers yours, guiding you to safely set the knife down. His callused finger traces your hairline from forehead to your ear. “What do you need, Sweetheart?” 

You feel his warmth so close, yet giving you the space you need. Your mouth’s gone dry. You repeat the words in your head. You need to get outside. You need to move. You need to be alone. “Walk,” is all you manage to get out. 

“Alone?”

“Yeah…” 

“Go. I’ve got things covered here.” 

You nod, moving instantly toward the front door. You hear Carter ask where you’re going but you feel far removed from it all. 

Only once you’re at the farthest point from the houses, at the edge of the cattle fields do you slump to the ground, surrendering to the panic in your body. Tears race down your cheeks, chest tightening with each breath as you ride it out. 

The sun is set when you enter your home. Carter is practicing his reading on the couch. He offers you a smile and a hug when you come in. Your body is exhausted, but it helps soothe you. 

“Daddy took Willa upstairs.”

You smile, running your hand over his head and kissing his cheek. “Thank you, buddy.”

He beams at you before returning to his spot on the couch. You’re halfway up the stairs when Joel’s singing greets you, pulling you in like the ocean tide. The room is dim, the only light coming from the open door. 

Joel sits in the rocking chair, his head tipped back against the headrest and eyes close. Willa sleeps soundly against his shoulder as he continues to sing a slowed, softer version of Fleetwood Mac’s Monday Morning. You lean against the door frame, watching them in this quiet moment. You’re not sure when he decided that would be the best lullaby for your infant, but oddly enough, it works. 

You’ve never been able to track down a copy of the band’s self-titled album, and it tugs at your heart to hear it after two decades. Then, Joel makes it to those last few lines of the chorus. 

I don’t mind. I’ll be there if you want me to. No one else that could ever do. 

His voice is so soft, a deep baritone that coats you in warmth everytime you hear it. Accompanied by the slow creaks of the rocker, it tugs you further into the room, closer to him. 

Got to get some peace on my mind. 

You rest your palm on his shoulder. Joel’s eyes flutter open slowly as if he was singing himself to sleep. He offers you an easy smile, free hand wrapping around you, settling against the side of your lower hip. He shifts Willa up on his shoulder more, making room as you slide into his lap, nuzzling into his opposite shoulder. Your legs rest over the arm of the rocker. You are positive you’re cutting off circulation in Joel’s legs, but he never complains. 

You lay a hand over Willa’s back. Joel kisses your forehead as he starts to rock again. The slow creak of the floorboards start again as he sings the chorus over, but this time it feels like he’s singing to you.

I’ll be there if you want me to.

No one else that could ever do.

Got to get some peace on my mind. 

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

[heretodestroyou]

heart-shaped sunglasses.

pairing(s); matthew lillard!william afton x reader

fandom; five nights at freddy’s [movie]

w/c; 592

trigger/content warnings; slightly unholy thoughts from william about you in your uniform, fem!reader, (reader wears lipstick, has boobs, is called 'girl' by william and has medium-length hair), heavy lana del rey influences (diet mountain dew), mentioned that reader smokes cigarettes, age gap (william is late 40s, reader is mid 20s), no explicit romance but it's heavily implied there's mutual pining, written from william's pov, reader knows his real name, not proof-read, NO use of y/n, lmk if i missed anything.

stella speaks! at this point someone reblogs/tags me in a shitpost about this man, i add tags while my brain is inconsolably horny, and then all of a sudden i'm writing a new draft. and yes, ik lana wasn't really a thing in 1990s, but for now let's pretend he's still a silver fox in the 2020s.

tags; @truecobblepot bc ofc🫶🏽🫶🏽

inspired by this post and the shenanigans that ensued.

“I just wanted to know how much I appreciate you staying late these past couple weeks.”

William’s voice is smooth, he’s demeanor calm, the slight tilt of his head and the casual clasp of his hands in front of him giving no hint to the turmoil in his brain.

You’re his employee. His best employee, no less. He can’t afford to lose you, to drive you away. So he’ll make sure you’re not looking him in the eye when his roam your body.

The words that come from your mouth are sincere. He knows this. He doesn’t much care in this moment however. That red vest is pulled across your breasts, and the top button of your shirt is undone, your tie looser now that the building is empty.

It’s his fault, how tight your uniform is on you. He has your size on file, but he always orders a size down, just for him. He doesn’t pay mind to the way teenage pizza boys and older brothers here with siblings watch you, because he knows he’s miles better than they are.

His eyes linger in the plastic heart-shaped sunglasses hanging from your collar, and he nods towards them. “And those? I do hope you haven’t been wearing those all day.”

It’s a gentle correction. No matter how much William favors you, he still must keep his image up. You shake your head. “No, I just got them out of my locker when I closed up with Robyn.”

“Where did you get them?” He asks, leaning forward. The movement is subtle, but he knows you catch it.

“It was a gag gift from some party,” you answer, taking them off your vest and sliding them on. William's breath barely catches in his throat. The frames are the same shade as the blood red lipstick you love wearing.

It’s your signature. It’s how he knows you’ve been in the break room, paper coffee and water cups stamped with your lips in the trash, lipstick printed cigarette buts in the back alleyway that he’s convinced himself are prettier than anyone else’s.

William's brain is rapid firing all kinds of signals, ranging from you're nearly 20 years younger than him, to why have I never felt this was about my ex-wife?

Everything about you seems to catered to William's preferences. You hold eye contact with him and customers, you're great with kids (including his!), and you actually appreciate the care he takes of his animatronics.

He chuckles as you look around his dim office with your heart-shaped sunglasses. "Well, now, look at you. Never was there ever a girl so pretty." You giggle, tugging on a strand of hair and sliding them up into your hair. "That's so sweet, Mr. Afton!" William chuckles. You're picture perfect and William is damn well aware that he's no good for you. "Please, call me William. It's only fitting that we remain on first name basis...as of your promotion to assistant manager."

Your eyes widen, and you let out a little gasp. "Do you really mean that, Mr. Af-- William?"

God, the way your lips form his name is intoxicating. He nods, his demeanor wavering slightly as you beam at him, thanking him.

It’s a power move, he knows. A selfish one, no less. But he can’t risk losing the one competent employee. And besides, the assistant manager’s uniform is closer to his, the pale purple shirt and darker tie, black slacks and black shoes (of your choosing, of course).

And who is he to deny himself that view?

[onskepa]

Heyy, I was wondering if you could write a fic where the Sully kids and Spider meet human Jake. It could be like one day they are at Hell’s Gate and suddenly there's like a white light or something and boom Jake is reverted to his past human self ( wheelchair and all ).

Because in canon they only known Jake in his avatar body, so I think this situation would be fun to explore and see their dynamics.

Helloooooooooo there~!! Honestly this is a good idea and I have got the perfect pic for it! Hope you enjoy~!!

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[credit to the artist]

Would you love me if I was a worm?

No words or sounds came from netyiri. She just stood still, her eyes wide and mouth open. Her tail stopped swaying. For a solid couple of seconds, everything was dead silent. How can she process what is in front of her? 

“Mom, please, for the love of Eywa, don't freak out” Lo’ak says as calmly as he can. His hands raised up slightly, ready for any outburst his mother would do. Neteyam was beside him, both in front of their father, to protect him. 

“Freak out? FREAK OUT!? I am about to lose my mind! What in Eywa’s name has happened!?” Neytiri screeched. Her anger and fear rising up to her voice. 

In a sharp turn of her neck, she glared hard towards the familiar human scientists. 

“YOU!! WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Neytiri's voice echoed throughout the lab, her rage unmatched. Her amber eyes glaring daggers towards the cowarding humans. Norm, being the more braver among the rest, stood in front of her as if to protect his fellow comrades. 

“W-we didn't know it would turn out like this!” Norm said while his voice was shaking, feeling terrified of the large woman in front of him. 

“did not know!? Look at my husband, HE IS SMALL AND PINK! HE IS HUMAN AGAIN!” 

Few hours earlier…

“So what is the point of that whole machine?” Jake asks as his fellow science friends set up some equipment. “We want to see if our theory of reversing things works”. Norm replied. Jake tilted his head a bit, “reversing things? Like what?” he asks. 

“Well like reversing illnesses, diseases, injuries. For mostly medical reasons. Our modern medicine supply is going to go low at some point. And came to decide other ways to fix or treat stuff” Max replies. Jake nods, understanding. He was mostly out of the way as they completed the machine. It was big, mostly tube-like. A long glass tube for a human or na’vi to get in. Had two sides with touch screens and a computer with a slide to insert something into the tube. Looked very rough in some areas. 

“We had to recycle some materials from the old labs,” Norm explains. 

“So, have you guys tested it yet?” Jake asks. Norm shook his head, “no, we are deciding carefully on what could be our guinea pig, and it needs to be organic. Mostly everyone is afraid to go inside”. 

Jake looks at the machine and slightly raises his hand, “What about me? I could do it”. Norm and Max were quick to turn their heads looking at jake. “Are you sure…? We can't guarantee it would hurt or feel weird” Max says, already not liking the nervous feeling he is getting. “We could try a fruit or something else, we really don't know the levels of danger here”. 

Jake raises his eyebrow, “so you built something, medical wise. And you don't know if it can hurt people?”. Norm swings his arms around and taking a deep breath, “we work with what we got. And yes, we don't know if it will cause more harm. That is why everyone, even us, are hesitant to try it out”. 

Jake shrugs and was still insistent on being the test subject. Norm gave in but max was not liking it at all. Feeling something is gonna go wrong. But no one would listen to him. So jake in his na’vi glory, stepped inside the tube as the science guys began to turn up the machine. “Ok, all systems are go. Ready jake?” Norm asks through the intercom. Jake nods, grinning all excitedly. 

Counting down, norm presses a button and suddenly in the tube released light green mist. Fogging the entire large tube. However, loud banging was quickly heard. On the screens showed Jake's heart rate spiking, alarms going off. Quickly everyone was quick to try and shut off the machine. Even by forcing the glass to open. And once it did, a human hand poked out.

“Your father hasn't come back yet, '' Neytiri tells her children as they enjoy their dinner. Jake isn't one to miss dinner time. He wouldn't miss any chance to eat. All of the kids looked at each other, trying to remember when was the last time they saw their dad. And then, tuk thumped her tail happily. 

“Daddy said he went to see the uncle norm and the others. Said they wanted to show him something” tuk happily provides the information. While it is not unusual Jake would go to visit the humans, what is unusual is that he stays there all day. A couple of hours at most and he leaves. This made neytiri worry the more she thought about it. 

“I can go get him” Lo’ak offers. He knows his mother isn't very comfortable being in the human posts. Neytiri nods but also adds, “neteyam will join you”. She knows well he will get distracted and have not only jake but now lo’ak staying longer than they should. 

After dinner, the brothers went off to get their father. However, once they stepped inside…it took everything for the boys to not scream their heads off. 

Present time. 

Jake sat in silence. Mostly still trying to process what happened a couple hours ago, still processing his literal new [or old] perspective, and still processing just how pissed his tall wife is. He is human. Back to who he was before. And to make it worse. 

He is back in the wheelchair. 

Back to having his useless legs. 

Back to being weak. 

And he hates it. 

The screeches of neytiri became dull in his mind. The more he thinks about it, the more it daunts on jake. Will it be forever? Is this the new reality? After achieving so much, only to go backwards? 

“Fix him! I do not care how you do it! Fix him now!” Neytiri continues to demand norm. She doesn't care what methods, she wants her Jake back to how he was. A na’vi. 

“W-we don't know! We are not sure how to fix it. This could take time” Norm tries to reason with the angry wife but she just shakes her head in frustration. “FIX HIM!!” was all she could say. 

“Neytiri” 

She heard Jake's voice. 

Turning to see him, she can't help but feel her heart tug. There he was, just like how she saw him back in the deep forest. Different, yet the same. The man she fell in love with. And now here he is again. Back to being human. 

“Ma’jake…” she whispers. Slowly going to him, she bends to be at his level. Jake offers his hand and she takes it to her cheek. Feeling his warmth. Feeling a few tears escape, she begins to cry. “How could they do this to you?! Why?!” she questions. Humans are creatures she could never fully understand, no matter how well she thinks she knows. 

“I volunteered to help them. They didn't know I would turn out like this. Its not their fault” Jake answers, trying to level a reason with his love. But her tears didnt stop falling. And he hates this. Hates to see netyiri cry. So doing his best to comfort her, he wraps his arms around her neck and hugs her as best as he could. Joining in on the hug were their sons. 

“You foolish skxawng! Stupid! Idiotic!” Neytiri shouted light hearted insults at her husband, and Jake takes it all in, secretly agreeing with her. “I know, I know baby, I know I am” he repeats. He really did fucked up. 

After a couple of minutes, they let go of each other, but neytiri didn't leave Jake's side. Lo’ak turns to norm to ask, “is there a way to turn him back? He isn't going to be like this forever….right?’. 

Norm took a deep breath and said, “the machine we built is to reverse and fix the main source of the problem. When Jake got in…the machine” point to Jake, “fixed him”. The sully family was slightly confused. “Fixed me? How?“ Jake asked. Rubbing the back of his neck, Max stepped forward to provide more information. “What we built is to reverse a source of a problem. Our best guess is the machine found a problem in you. Your na’vi blood. The machine must has seen it as a problem and using your human DNA to reverse it. Thus…you are fixed. And we cant say if we can turn you back into na’vi…”. 

Dread was what everyone felt. Scared that this would be the new reality. Scare that jake won't be with his family every day. Won't continue to be olo’eyktan or anything. Dread and fear is the collective emotions. 

“How about we sleep on this? A lot has happened and sleep would be best to calm ourselves. Sleep, a bit of coffee and think what our next movie is” Jake suggests. Everyone almost agrees. His family however, not really. “I will stay with you” Neytiri says, no hesitation. But Jake shook his head, placing his hands over her larger ones. “I'm sorry baby, but I need you to go back home. You and our boys. Kiri and tuk are currently alone and they need their parents. I obviously can't…but tomorrow, bring them so they can know what's going on. This won't be forever I promise”. 

Neytiri hisses in frustration. He is right, neytiri left kiri to care for tuk while she came to the lab. Never has she wished this was all a bad dream. A nightmare that she can wake up from. But this is real. And she hates it. 

“Fine…but they have to fix you…I want you back” Neytiri whispers. Holding Jake's hand tightly, observing his pale skin. He feels different. It's not the same hand she loves to hold. It is not the same warmth she leans into for comfort. It's all wrong. Jake isn't-

“Mom” 

Neytiri blinks a few times, looking over at neteyam, his hand on her shoulder. “Let's go home, dad is right. We will come back tomorrow. We can bring kiri and tuk like he said”. Sighing, netyiri finally lets go but not without one last look at jake. Seeing his human form made her feel something. Something unpleasant. 

“Dad…damn it's weird…” Lo’ak says, still trying to get the whole thing wrapped in his mind. Jake could help but chuckle a bit, “it's ok son, I will see you tomorrow”. Not saying much, lo’ak goes with his mother, neteyam also looks one last time before joining them. 

The door shuts behind them, leaving Jake alone to his thoughts. 

“So ummmm….you guys still have my old room?”

“Spider, can you for 5 minutes stop staring at me?” Jake asks, slightly annoyed. Spider on the other hand was staring at him as if he couldn't believe what was in front of him. Slowly spider was using his index finger to slowly poke jake. Looking at it, Jake gently smacked his hand away. “Stop it” Jake warned. 

Spider backed away a bit, huffing a bit, “sorry sir it's just….so weird! You are small and pink and well…human”. Jake couldn't blame the boy. He grew up seeing Jake full na’vi. But doesnt mean it didn't hurt Jake a bit. His pride, he tries to keep humble, but little by little his pride crumbles. 

“Get used to it, come on. Lets see what the others are doing” Jake says as both of them head off to the main room. 

“I thought they were kidding…” Kiri says as she stands in front of her dad. Tuk beside her, eyes wide and in shock. Same reaction as their mother. Jake raises his arms, grinning in a rather floppy way, “I wish baby girl” he said. Hearing his voice only confirmed it more. Tuk releases her grip on Kiri's hand and walks over to her dad. Carefully analyzing his human features. 

“Is it really you daddy…?” tuk asks, excited yet afraid to hear his answer. “It is me tuktuk, surprised?” Jake responds, giving his signature grin. Smiling happily, she hugs him tightly. It's so weird to her, she is the baby but she is bigger than her dad. Letting go, she sees his wheelchair, bending down, she traces the metal wheels. 

“Why are you in a chair?” She asks while her giggles escape. She looks up to see jake give a sad smile. 

“Well baby girl, my legs cant move. I cant walk or do anything, '' he tells truthfully. Tuk’s smile faded a bit, “does that mean you cant run..?”. Jake nods. 

A few seconds of silence passed before she went behind him and grabs the handles, “can I at least push you?” she asks excitedly, her tail swaying in a playful manner. Jake chuckles, “try not to run so fast-WOA!!”. Tuk was off doing just that, running fast making cool drifts with the wheelchair. 

“Weeeeeeee~!!” 

10 minutes later 

“Sorry…” Tuk apologizes while holding her tail and head low. 

She just crashed into one of the computers. 

Norm doing his best to not show his internal scream, he does his best to comfort her. But Jake goes over, grabbing tuk’s hand, “it's ok baby girl, but try to be extra careful. It's not easy to maintain all of this technology, come on, let's go with everyone else”. Tuk feeling better, this time she carefully takes Jake to where the other kids are

“And why are you not with your mate? Especially in his time of need?” Mo’at asks as she mixes herbs to make more healing substance. Neytiri was helping her, but refused to make eye contact. Mo’at was told of what happened, and had to see for herself. And while it certainly was a shock, she was quick to tell the people that their olo’eyktan had to travel for a bit. But she doesn't know how long the people will believe that. 

“The children go to support their father but here you are supporting me when it is not needed” she continues. Putting down the roller, neytiri huffs, feeling annoyed herself. “I went to the spirit tree…” was all she could say. But mo’at gave her a look, “Eywa cant answer all of our problems, as she cant help jake sully this time” she says. 

“This is a problem only the humans can fix” 

But even then, neyiri continues to assist. Thinking about her mate, but doing nothing to see him. The humans have to fix him, they must.

The sully kids were playing Jake's old vlogs as he was cringing from the inside. Was that how he really behaved back then? And speaking highly of Quaritch? How badly he wanted to go back in time and smack the shit out of himself. 

“Wait, but you look exactly the same as in the videos, shouldn't you be looking about your current age?” Kiri asks, comparing her father to himself of the past. But Jake could only shrug, “I am not sure kiddo. But I consider it lucky I haven't lost my good looks”. Kiri rolls her eyes at that self praise. 

Yet, as the kids watch, he couldn't help but wonder about neytiri, she hasn't come even though she said she would. He suspects there is something going on with neytiri but he can't point out what exactly. But jake hopes to see her soon. He can use all the support he can get. 

Norm isnt much help since “they are still figuring it out”. Jake hates this, he hates seeing his human hands. Hates to see himself human. The desire to be na’vi again grows every second.  

“Has mom said anything about coming?” Jake asks neteyam, the oldest slight shrugs. “I asked mom but she didn't say much, just that she will be helping grandma. That's about it” neteyam answers. Sighing inwardly, perhaps she too is still processing the truth. That is fine, giving her space can be good.

But as days passed, Jake was struggling. He was so used to doing certain things, he has forgotten his human habits. Often had to be reminded to wear more clothes, forgetting he didn't had much hair from the start. Technology around him makes him a bit sick, unable to stare at screens for a long time. Not like how he used to. Sounds from the computers annoyed him. 

And dont get him started on food. There is only so much pandora food that is safe for humans. Jake missed eating certain things that the humans find weird or gross. 

And most of all, being reminded of how weak he is. Having his useless legs back is forever mocking him. How he isn't strong as he was in na’vi. And he hates himself because of it.

Jake is constantly reminded of how dull and empty his human life was. And how full and nurturing his na’vi life is. He needed to get back to being na’vi soon. As if each day, a piece of his mind is slowly losing sanity. Jake is a patient man, but when you are used to a certain life, only to refrain to how you started. It takes a toll. 

1 month. 

It took neytiri one month to come see him. And Jake felt relieved to see her. To feel her hands and touch her beautiful face. “I missed you” he says with great relief. Neytiri gives him a small smile as she examines his hands again. 

“They still haven't fixed you” was all she said. 

“You talk as if I am broken” Jake slightly jokes, chuckling to himself. But neytiri wasn't smiling. Taking a more serious look, he leans a bit closer, “neytiri…do you think I am broken?”. He needed to know, from revealing to himself, that is all she ever said, fix. As though there is something wrong with him. 

“You are human…” she whispers. But Jake heard her loud and clear. 

Her eyes were unable to meet his. Her hands are there, but her mind is distant. “Is that bad?” he asks. A bad feeling starts to grow, gripping her hands more, Jake tries to make eye contact but neytiri looks away. 

“Baby please look at me….do I look broken to you?” Jake pleads. But nothing came of her mouth. Slowly, Neytiri pulls her hands back and gets up, “I have to go”. She leaves, almost as though she wants to run. 

“NEYTIRI!” Jake calls out, his voice cracking. But she was gone. 

Tuk was crying, she twisted her ankle while running and was swelling bad, Mo’at was quick to treat her, but tears wouldn't stop. Everyone tried to soothe her, but nothing was of use. From neteyam hugging her, to lo’ak making a fool of himself on purpose, nothing worked. And neytiri was getting more anxious that she couldn't calm her baby. 

“Please tuktuk, ssshhhh it's going to be ok. I know it hurts, would you like your favorite supper?” Neytiri asks, holding tuk and gently rocking her back and forth. 

“No! “ tuk cries out. Her wails loud and heart breaking. Honestly they really tried everything. But what could work?

“Tuk, it doesn't hurt, does it? Why are you really crying?” Kiri asks gently, already seeing through her sister's facade. Tuk shook her head, wiping her tears and taking deep, quick breathes. 

“Nononono!” was all tuk could say. The more she cries, the more worried Neytiri gets. But before anyone else can say anything, tuk confesses. 

“I want daddy!!” and she cries some more. 

Her words broke everyone's hearts. For the past month, everyone tried to continue their lives but it was so difficult without Jake around. Neteyam missed flying with his dad. Lo’ak strangely missed being scolded by him. Kiri missed their late night talks. And neytiri. 

Neytiri misses her mate more than she could ever express. But she knows, Neytiri knows she is a coward to not face him as he is. 

A sky demon. 

“I want daddy!! I want him home! I wanna play with him, I wanna be carried. I want daddy to sing me to sleep even though he is terrible! I miss daddy!” 

How can they really shush when they all feel the same? 

“Ssshhh, hey, its still day time, let's go see him. We can all go see dad together” Lo’ak suggests quickly. That made tuk silence a bit, small hiccups following, but she aggressively nodded. Liking the idea, the rest of the siblings were quick to get whatever they needed to go see their dad at the lab. 

“Come on mom, let's go see him” Kiri says, excitedly grabbing her mothers hand. But neytiri stays put. “You go on ahead, take your time” she says. But kiri halted a second, tilting her head slightly. “Don't you want to see dad too? Surely you must miss him a lot more than us” she says, but her mother looks in a different direction, not able to make eye contact. Tugging her hand, kiri gently, yet forcefully, drags neytiri out of their home. Smiling brightly, to encourage her mother, “lets go, we can do something together, all of us as a family”. 

Neytiri looks at her daughter, and decides to follow. But the ever growing dread rumbles in her stomach.

“There there baby girl, don't need to cry. Accidents happen and we learn from them” Jake effortlessly soothes tuk. The little girl sniffed and controlled her tears better. Despite being bigger, tuk was snuggled up against Jake's chest, hearing his heartbeat. This was what she wanted. To be close with her dad again. And being so touch starved, she clinged on to him the most. 

“See, all better huh? Come on, let me see that smile. What is a mouse's favorite food?” Jake asks. Tuk gasped happily, she knows this one! 

“Cheese!” Tuk smiles happily, her tears and sadness washed away. Jake chuckles as holds her tighter. “That's right baby girl” Jake praises. Gently he rubs his forehead against hers, making tuk giggle in glee. His other children surround them, happy to see tuk calm and back to her happy self. Neytiri stood a bit distant, but calmed herself. Jake always knew how to calm their youngest baby. 

“What are you coming home dad? We miss you. I miss you a lot” Tuk whines a bit. Jake couldn't help but frown a bit. “I am not sure when tuktuk. Until uncle norm can find a way, I am like this” Jake answers honestly. But that wasn't enough for tuk. Growling a bit, she huffs. Like a little hamster. 

“Why can't you come home as you are? Spider can go wherever he wants. Why can't you do the same? There are a lot of masks” she asks stubbornly as she crosses her arms. 

Spider, who was beside Kiri, couldn't help but feel sad for jake. The man is in a worse position than he ever was. 

“True, but unlike spiders. I can't run, I can't even stand baby girl. My legs don't work like they used to” Jake answers with all the patience in the world. Tuk looks down at his legs, well what she can see since was wearing pants. Her ears pinned down, hating it more by the second. 

“Can't Eywa fix this? Doesn't she always help like mom says?” Tuk asks more, a little hope rising. Kiri shakes her head and goes over, gently placing a hand over tuk’s shoulder. 

“It doesn't work like that tuk. Our great mother doesn't just grant miracles like that. This is something that must be solved by uncle norm and the other scientists. They did this, so it is only right they find a solution themselves” kiri tells. 

But it seems that no matter how much they explain, tuk will still remain stubborn about bringing Jake back to their home. She understands the complications, but would rather refuse to see it. Like daughter, like mother. As in a way, tuk reflects what neytiri is doing. Avoiding the real problem. So Jake does his best to hold tuk, whispering comforting words into her ear. Which can only work for so long. 

At the same time, lo’ak turns and sees neytiri slowly, yet surly moving farther away. Confused at what she is doing, he goes over. “Mom? Don't you want to get close to dad?” he asks her in a low voice only for her to hear. But neytiri doesn't answer right away. Looking behind him and back at him, she answers in the same low voice. “I am fine, we are here for you and your siblings”. 

Jake noticed the silent conversation happening between his son and wife. It still hurts him that neytiri left only to come back using their kids as an excuse. It seems like real talk is long overdue. Gently moving tuk at his side, he effortlessly climbs back on his wheelchair. 

“Dad?” Neteyam calls out, curious what Jake will do. Smiling like nothing, Jake says, “Hey, why not bother the science guys? They have been playing pac-man all days. But dont break anything”. Giving full permission, they all smile and head off to bother the humans. Spider calls out to lo’ak to join them and he happily does. 

Leaving Neytiri and Jake alone. 

“Let's talk outside, yeah?”

The couple stood outside, as far as Jake's wheelchair allows to. He scratches the edges of the mask. He forgot what it felt like against his skin. It's itchy and uncomfortable. But he bares it. If it meant talking to his mate. 

“Neytiri….baby please. Why won't you look at me?” he asks. Before him, neytiri’s back was facing him. Rubbing her arms to comfort herself. 

“I'm sorry ma’jake…I can't” she confesses. Hesitant heavy in her tone. 

“Can't…or won't?” he confronts. She flinches. And he noticed. Sighing, Jake rubs the back of his neck. The straps itching his upper neck. “I know it's hard. Trust me I know. I had to learn everything again. That i'm…back to this. A useless being” . 

And neytiri couldn't bring herself to defend her mate. As twisted as it may sound. He was right. Jake couldn't do anything without his avatar. He could run, fight, or run a village. He couldn't do anything before the war. 

“But I know that being crippled is the least of your worries. The kids know, I know why you won't look at me. It's because I am back to being what you hate”. 

Don't say it. Please don't. 

“I am…” 

Stop it. 

“A sky demon”. 

“NO!” 

All that had wings, flew away. Startled by the sudden shriek of protest. 

What stance in silence is netyiri fully facing jake. Her fists clenching, heavy breathing, and eyes wide with inner thoughts that scramble to make sense. 

“Back at the secret base. When I passed out from the pandora air. You crawled in and saved me. Placed the mask over my face to let me breathe. You held me in your arms. You saw me. You SAW ME. A human. Looking past my avatar body. Accepting the truth, you feel for a human”. 

The more Jake spoke, the more his voice cracked. The more tears wanted to escape. 

“Why can't you now…?” 

Yes. Why couldn't she? 

“I don't know” was all she could say. No ounce of anger, resentment. Nothing. 

Nodding, but not fully understanding her words. Jake can only repeat it. “You don't know….so who else? Eywa cant help me with this. She helped me greatly before. And even I know, great miracles cant happen twice to the same person. It  must be earned. Fucking shit now I dont know what Im saying”. 

More silence fell between the two. Unsure of what to say. 

“Maybe it was a stupid mistake on my part. Letting myself be the guinea pig for the science guys experiment. I didn't know this would happen to me. I don't know myself” Jake says. Feeling more frustrated by the second. 

But again, he only received silence from neytiri. 

“Neytiri please, talk to me. I can't be the only one spewing out words” he begs. 

“If seeing me like this disgusts you-” 

“It does”. 

Now it was Jake's turn to be silent. 

“Your body disgusts me. I cannot see you as human. To me, you have always been na’vi. An Omatikaya. To see you as human, I am reminded of the past. What they did to our home. To my family. I refuse to look at you for the sake of protecting my memories of you. I will not look back at the past only to see you as human. I will, always will, remember and see you as na’vi. Nothing else”. 

There, she said it. All that had to be said. 

“And now…I see you as one of them”

2 more months have passed and there was no sign of things getting better. The village has grown wary of their absent olo’eyktan that Tsarem had taken the title as temporary. But even still, it can only keep the peace for so long. 

A peace that is fragile. So fragile, it can break at any moment, and chaos will ensue. 

A chaos the sully family is facing every day. Without Jake around, it has become harder to contain their four wild children. Lo’ak has taken more reckless adventures, tuk has been throwing more temper tantrums, kiri has shut down her emotions, and neteyam has become lost in what to do. And each problem took a toll on neytiri. The only time any of them behave is when they visit Jake back at the lab. 

The lab has become more of a home for the kids than back at their marui. 

Yet still, neytiri cant bring herself to go there often like her children. After her last conversation with Jake, confessing how she felt. Never again did she go back to see him. Still playing back the memories of when he was na’vi. Wanting to preserve that form of jake. Pretending he was around, doing his duties to the clan, pretending he was there beside her as she sleeps. 

Pretending everything is ok. 

And it is getting harder to play pretend. 

Until the day came, Jake snapped.

“Bro, do you think they will ever find a way to get dad back to being na’vi? Lo’ak asks. As each day passes, he notices the distance between his parents grow larger. His family is slowly being ripped apart. Lo’ak wishes for his dad to go back to being na’vi. With him back, everything will be ok again. 

It has too. 

“I'm not sure baby bro. But they are smart, Perhaps it takes longer to find a cure. It's not forever, I can feel it” neteyam encourages, But their little chit chat was cut short. They heard alarms going off at the lab. Running quickly, they find their father.

On the ground. 

Crawling. 

And without a mask. 

They were quick to be at his side, Jake was shaking uncontrollably, gasping heavily. Making inconceivable sounds. It was a scary sight. 

“Come on! We have to get him inside!” Neteyam picked up his dad by the legs, lo’ak by the arms. But as soon as they picked him up, spider ran outside with a spare mask. “Here here here!” spider quickly placed the mask on Jake, strapping it around his head really well. Guiding the brothers to put their dad down, they all sat in silence, anxiously waiting for Jake to respond. 

And what felt like forever, Jake gasped into the mask, taking deep slow breathes. The boys released huge breaths as well. Not realizing they were holding it in. 

“Dad, are you crazy!? What were you thinking?!” lo’ak was the first to yell at his father. Jake didn't mind. Letting it slide for now. 

“Thinking about your mom. If she isnt coming to me. Then god damn it I am going to her whether she likes it or not”.

At the sully marui, kiri and tuk were playing in silence as neytiri laid in her hammock, swaying absent minded. Kiri noticed how dull thing became. Their father brought life, structure, and happiness in their family. Kiri desperately wishes he would come back soon.

“DAD'S BACK!!” 

Damn that was soon. 

She and tuk looked down to see neteyam carrying their father in his back. In a hurry, the sisters helped bringing their dad inside of their home. Excited and happy he returned. Even in his small weak form .

Jake sat in the middle of their home, all of his kids talking at the same time. Tuk chanting “daddy's home” over and over. Lo’ak saying how stupid move it was to risk his life like that. Neteyam and Kiri being worried over nothing. He missed this. But the one thing he missed more. Was his wife. 

And neytiri, upon hearing the commotion, stood to see Jake there. In their home, smiling as their children talk to him. Their eyes meet. A wordless exchange was made. But quickly, and again, she looks away. 

“I'm not going anywhere, baby. I'm here to stay. Where I belong. Human or not” Jake states. He said it loud and clear, enough for her ears to point in his direction. Tuk jumps excitedly as she goes over and grabs her mothers hand,“Isn't that good mama? He can stay with us forever and ever!”. 

No, it's not good. 

“Dad is human obviously some stuff will change but he is back mom. We don't have to move back and forth, and we can play games like always, "Neteyam says, with new hope and happiness rising in his heart. All of the kids were feeling that. They can vision it. 

“No, he has to go back. Its not safe for him here. Nowhere is safe out here for him” Neytiri denies. Many begin to complain but they don't know what she sees. So many things can go wrong. Jake cant even climb up without help. It takes only one wrong move and he falls to his death. Or his oxygen tank runs out and no one is near to get him an extra. Death is easier to reach him now, easier to take him away entirely. And only then, would neytiri reach a new low in her life. 

“Then I will have to adapt, dont I? I won't be some damsel in distress” 

Neytiri internally groans. But she is grateful her husband still has  his stupid sense of humor. 

And things did shifted. 

Now Jake spends more time in the marui and neytiri spends more time at the lab. What is she doing over there? Secretly threatening the poor humans to hurry up and solve Jake's human problem. Her threats gotten so out of hand that Mo'at had to intervene. 

“Daring to send thanators after them? Have you lost your mind my daughter?” Mo’at asks neytiri in a stern but calm voice. Despite what expression the tsahik has, she is clearly pissed. Like a child, Neytiri sits still, stubborn and mad that she was caught. Mo’at sits across from her, examining her daughter's facial features, reading her like an open script. 

“Those humans are taking too long. They started their unwanted mess, so they should fix it” neytiri says. And mo’at can only sigh in annoyance. “Fix, fix fix, that is all you have said since the beginning. What is there to fix? Their machine?” Mo’at asks. Shaking her head, neytiri provides more. 

“Not that….Jake….he is not na’vi. He is not MINE anymore” 

This confuses her mother, neytiri goes on. 

“I have looked into the Eywa, seeking, hoping for an answer. I wanted her to help him as she did before. Yet Jake was right, nothing is done twice. I fear many things sa’nu. I fear losing my family. My mind. My mate….I cannot make tayshlu anymore with him. Yes, I can hold him close to me, but every time I see him. All I see is those disgusting, vile, sky demons. I feel utter disgust. The need to hurt him. To dig into his chest and bring out his na’vi body. Destroy his human shell, burn it, rip it apart.  I want him back to how he was. One of us. I fear my inner feelings will soon rise, and that I make a grave mistake that can never be taken back”. 

Hearing all that. It concerned Mo'at greatly. Those are dark thoughts that must be vanquished, if it grows more, she fears it will blind neytiri greatly. 

“What is preventing you child?” she whispers. 

Neytiri took a few seconds of silence, a small smile crept up to her lips. “His eyes…Jake's eyes are what prevents me from losing it all”. 

She goes on. 

“Jake’s eyes are the color of the sky. Very blue, and very beautiful. When I look into his eyes, I can only look for so long. They hold purity. If I stare into them for a long time, I might taint them with all the horrors I have seen. His blue eyes are pure sa’nok. Pure and good, but his body is not”.

Letting her words ponder in Neytiri's mind, she left. But mo’at prays to Eywa that her daughter won't make a foolish choice. 

 

Entering her home, there was warm light, the smell of something delicious cooking, and laughter. Opening the flaps, she sees Jake telling a story as their children all listen carefully. 

“And then, the lorax said…” 

Just hearing that word, Neytiri knows exactly what story Jake is telling. Their children might be too old to hear it, but the Lorax story was one of her personal favorites. She hasn't heard it in a long time. 

Neteyam looks up and notices her, waving his arm and everyone turns to see her. All warm smiles, welcoming her in. Jake looks at her, his patient and stupid smile, his blue eyes staring deep into her eyes. “Come in baby, I was just getting into the good part of the story” he says, kiri serving a bowl of their dinner to her, neytiri accepts as she makes herself comfortable on the opposite side of jake. 

“What story are you telling?” she asks, and in unison, her family happily responds, “the lorax!”. Smiling slightly, she listens. Letting jake continue his story, his voice soft and calm. His way of talking never changed. Always so calm and peaceful. If she closes her eyes, it will be just like how it was. 

Some time has passed, and neytiri was able to stare at Jake longer and more comfortably. Talking more like how they used to, while she is still hesitant to touch him for long periods of time, she is forever grateful how patient Jake is with her. But it seems her children haven't changed much, they are still themselves. Yet just as foolish as their father. 

“Tonight, the children will stay with mo’at” neytiri says one morning, Jake pauses what he was doing and looks over at his mate. “Oh? May I know why?” he asks curiously, seeing how neytiri’s tail was moving, he grins. 

“I thought we could use a little break from them. And just be the two of us-” 

“You want a date night” 

“Yes” 

A burst of laughter erupts in the home, Jake knows her too well. He can read her mind at this point. Looking over, he can see her beautiful smile returning. Bright and lovely. Making his way over with big leaps with his hands, neytiri gets closer. Her eyes staring into his. “You could have said that from the start,” he says. Neytiri places her forehead against his. “Not fun” she says. 

Looking into Neytiri's eyes, he knows what she wants. Who is he to deny her. 

Loosening the straps, he starts to take off the mask. Neytiri sees this and starts to panic, “ma’jake what are you doing? No, stop it!” She holds the mask. 

“Come on baby, what's fun without some risks?” Jake asks playfully.. Taking it off completely, he brings neytiri’s face close to his and kisses her with all the love and passion he had for her. Neytiri wanted to pull away, but felt his lips on her. She caved in, her hand on the back of his head, deepening the kiss. 

What felt like forever, they pulled away. Jake was quick to put the mask on, smirking. “See? I'm fine, but I don't mind another one”. 

Scoffing, she grins, “you skxawng” 

 “your skxawng”.

Night fell, the two mates held each other close. Neytiri sighed happily, she likes this. Likes holding jake in her arms, for once she can top him. Taking in his features more and more, she wanted to admire his good looks. His hair did grew out, and lofts to run her fingers through them. So soft and lovely. His arms strong and muscular, his confident smile ever so contagious. 

“Even if the science guys cant fix me-” 

“No, not fix. Cannot fix something that is not broken” 

Jake looks up at her, surprised but a welcoming one. Brining himself closer into her arms, both let their love and peace lure them into sleep. Happily welcoming what becomes of their new normal. 

Yet as they sleep, they didnt notice Jake’s tablet flashing a light. A message from norm. 

Aaaaaaaaaaaand that is it for this one! NGL I had fun writing this one. Took me a bit but I am glad how it turned out. Until next time! See ya!

[daenysx]

Hi! I don't know if you remember the request of reader being pregnant with aemond but don't want to tell him because they are not married and the baby would be a bastard and his family wouldn't accept that, well, i was wondering if you could make a little series about it (like the proposal, the wedding, the pregnancy, the birth and a couple year later).

Los of love 💖

hi baby, thank you so much for this request and i'm sorry it took me so long! i've tried 2 different versions but i wasn't really satisifed with them. you can think of this as the second part and the explanation of their feelings.

requests are open!!

my masterlist

STRINGS ATTACHED (part 1)

part 2 - confessing

you and aemond explain your feelings to each other. nsfw.

he looks calm and relaxed, watches the ceiling as he rubs absent-minded circles on your belly.

it has been only 3 days since you told aemond that you are pregnant with his baby. in his analitical mind there are two parts; the one which makes him want to scream his happiness and the one which makes him know that he should protect you and the baby from every possible thing that could happen.

after that little moment of shock passed, he started to make plans in his mind. how to meet you with his family, how to get married to you, how to prevent any harm that can come to your way. he cannot afford to lose you and the baby at this point. he is already ready to lose it all just for your sake.

you are in bed next to him. his enormous bed, the witness of all your love making sessions. the witness of him falling in love with you everytime as you try to hold him closer.

"do you have any regrets?"

your soft voice brings him back to reality.

"regrets?"

you nod. "i'm just curious, it all happened so fast."

he gives himself a few seconds to think before he answers.

"i don't regret our baby. please don't ever think that. i should've told you about my feelings sooner. i shouldn't have made you feel like it's just sex and nothing else."

"why did you do it then?"

he seems happy that you want explanations instead of letting go.

"i didn't know how to reach you. how to be with you. how to start a relationship or even asking you. it happened and you seemed like you love the deal we had, i accepted what i had and didn't stop."

you let out a small chuckle.

"so, what you're saying is 'the perfect aemond targaryen' didn't know how to ask a girl out and settled for a sex arrangement instead?"

your words did something to him and suddenly he is on top of you, kissing like there is no tomorrow.

"and what about you, hmm? why wait so long to tell me how you feel? why ever letting me believe that you fell for someone else?"

you keep kissing him before answering his question.

"i didn't want to lose you. i thought if i talk about feelings you would break the arrangement and i could never see you again."

he understands. of course he fucking understands. it's not difficult to process everything in his mind but he feels guilty somehow. he wishes he could be the brave one. it would change everything and he cannot help himself, he thinks of all the lost opportunities.

"i just wish-" you kiss him, not letting him finish his sentence that he starts with a frown on his face.

"no. from now on, it's a new beginning for us. we won't think anything about the past, okay?"

he smiles. it's comforting, to have someone by his side who makes sure he stops thinking.

"i want this with you. i want all of you. i want everything with you."

he kisses you. not just a sweet, little kiss but a passionate one. your words carve their ways into his heart and he lets himself hold onto them until the end of his days.

"we will have a baby, can you believe that?" you say with a big smile.

"i must admit, it's still a shock. i wouldn't want a baby with anyone but you, it's quite a relief."

you frown slightly. "oh, please. you should try to be a little more romantic than that."

he starts pressing kisses to your neck as he stays on top of you in bed. "i should be romantic, hmm? should i kiss every inch of your body that i adore so much, you can't even guess? should i tell you how much i love you, how much i'd like to think about you, carrying our baby? should i tell you how beautiful you'll be as a mother and that i'll always be a man on his knees for you? because i think i can do that, sweetheart."

you hold his face and lead his lips to yours. he is a man of words and those words make you want to part your legs for him, only to keep him there forever.

"can you- can we-"

you pause, breathless and unsure of your words.

"anything you want." he understands.

he makes a quick work on your clothes, takes them off. he takes off his eyepatch, stands next to bed until he's naked for you. you watch him with eager eyes. he is yours now. no need to hide anything you feel. you press your thighs together, biting your lip.

"you should keep those legs open for me, my love."

you take a deep breath. his fingers stay on your thighs as he helps you keep them open.

"already wet for me? you look perfect."

he brings his fingers to your cunt, slowly touches with gentle fingertips. his fingers easily gets coated with your wetness and you whimper softly.

"i need to hear those voices, okay? be loud for me."

his first time touching you when you're both aware of feelings and it feels different. all he wants is to kiss you and fuck you senseless but he wants to be gentle and loving, too.

he is sure you're ready and if he doesn't start moving his fingers soon, you'll be cursing him. he puts his index finger deep, the sensation of his long finger in you is sudden and perfect. he moves it until he makes sure you feel that delicious strech, then he adds his middle finger.

"move your hips for me, sweet girl. there you go, it's nice isn't it?"

you nod as you move your hips in a sync with his fingers and it's perfect. it's more than nice, feeling his fingers right there. then he makes it better.

he knows how much you love it when he finds your g-spot and touches it like a cruel man. endless pressure until he feels your walls clench. you are almost addicted.

"yes, oh god, aemond! keep your fingers there, it's so- hmm."

he chuckles. "why on earth would i stop touching something so beautiful, hmm? let go, princess."

you find his other hand with closed eyes and lead his thumb to your clit.

"two fingers not enough for you, you want another one? fuck, i love you so fucking much."

he rubs your swollen clit and you move your hips like your life depends on it. you feel yourself getting close but you also don't want this to end.

"kiss me."

he immediately obeys and leans forward to kiss you. his hands don't stop, his lips swallow all of your noises and you love it. you love how much he devotes himself to you in bed.

it doesn't take long, you arch your back your hands stroke his hair and he slows his pace when he feels you come around him. warm liquid goes down on your legs and on his fingers and it feels like the world can fuck off now that you have him.

you hold his hand, relieved and happy. "you are perfect, thank you."

"no need to thank me, love. it was my pleasure." he smirks and that smirk has never looked more beautiful.

you take a few minutes as he cleans you. when you feel the effect of shattering orgasm lessens, you sit on bed, leading him under you.

"i'd like to return the favor."

he looks unsure. "as much as i love the image of your lips around my cock, i don't want you to go hard on yourself, love. that was for you."

you shake your head stubbornly. "i want to do it. i love doing it, you know that and i'm fine."

you don't let him say anything else, you take his cock in your soft hand. he hisses with the sudden feeling. you tighten your fingers experimentally, hearing his voice saying your name desperately.

"don't tease me, you little minx. it was hard enough to watch you come undone on my fingers, i need you."

you smile affectionally. "as you wish."

you lick your palm and bring it back to his cock, stroking him slowly and your thumb is on the tip of him. you lean forward and take him in your mouth. it's quite impossible to take him fully in your mouth but you start slow and he guides you, never lets you hurt yourself.

you start sucking him, gently. your hands travel on his thighs and the length of him that you cannot have in your mouth. his hands find your hair, helps you move easily.

you are used to this, during your arrangement it was the only thing that calmed aemond's mind. he'd love seeing you taking care of him, sucking him, and looking at him with those eyes while you do that. it never takes too long for him, the image of you between his legs is enough to get him there.

"can you- a little more, my love. please." such needy words coming from his mouth.

you are merciful, you keep moving your lips and tongue in a way you know makes him go feral. he starts lifting his hips unintentionally.

"i'm close baby, you can stop."

you straighten your back for a moment, continue your movements with your hand. you take a deep breath and take him in your mouth again.

"baby-"

"i wanna swallow. come on aemond, i know you are close."

your words start burning their way into his brain and he loses it. he comes with a loud moan, his desire stays in your mouth in a liquid form. he can't think or breathe for a moment.

"i think you just killed me."

you smirk. "you always say the same thing."

he pulls you closer into his arms. he holds you right there, such a moment was reserved only in his dreams and now it's his reality. he pulls the covers on you, you bury your face to his neck.

"i've always wanted to do this. after you made me come with that perfect mouth of yours, i wanted to hold you like this."

you mumble softly. "sometimes you did."

"it wasn't enough."

his lips find your neck, the soft skin of your breast, and your belly.

"our baby is right here, hmm?"

you smile. "it's too small, aemond. we should see a doctor though."

"still, it's here my love. and we can see a doctor tomorrow, okay?"

you nod. "i want to sleep."

"go ahead, baby. i'll be right here when you wake up."

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (5/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!) A/N: Thank you guys for the sweet comments! I love reading them and they make me write faster, apparently, haha. Let me know if you have any predictions! I'm super curious. ;)

CHAPTER 5: You get a lot more than you bargained for when Charlie shows up at dinner. For one, how does he manage to make politics, sexy? (4.7k words)

CHAPTER 5: ELECTRIC POLITICS

You were cloaked in warm and well slept-in sheets. You nestled yourself in that comfort for another moment before turning onto your back and cracking an eye open. Above you was a familiar tall and white ceiling. Yep, you were definitely back in your bed. It was always in the earliest of mornings that for the briefest of moments, your mind was inclined to forget what had happened the night before. As your lucidity grew, figments of last night came to you slowly. 

You were at a bar with Charlie, talking about plans…

…That he shredded.

Right, that happened.

But had it all been a dream? Maybe it was still the morning after that disastrous dinner and your subconscious had plotted out the past couple of “days”. 

You pulled your covers off and stared at your naked kneecap. There was a light bruise, a pale spot of red, from when Charlie was trying to ‘gauge’ your limits or whatever he’d called it.  To think he’d left a mark by just casually holding your knee in his hand, not even intently putting pressure on it. To think if he’d done anything with intent… 

“Get a grip on yourself,” you chastised, fanning away thoughts that were too lewd for the morning. You were growing annoyed with yourself after losing every shroud of strong-headedness you had. Charlie was just attractive and confident. But so were thousands of other men in the world, so why did he get to control your narrative last night?

You exhaled, resolving to think about it later, then walked over to the closet to dress for the day. 

Narcissa was the only one in the sunroom when you arrived. It looked like your father and Draco had already had breakfast and gone off to do whatever the day asked of them. 

“Good morning,” you greeted, slipping into your chair.

“You got in late last night,” Narcissa responded.

You shrugged. “It was Friday, and I’m young.”

There was a wrinkle of disapproval on her mouth. By now, Lucius would’ve told her about Charlie and about your little scene last weekend at the cafe, and she would’ve filled in your whereabouts last night with that information.

She looked out the garden and then back at you. “What does your schedule look like in a month’s time? Say, the second Sunday of October?”

“I imagine it’s free.”

“You best keep it open, then,” Narcissa continued. “My monthly book club is inviting a prolific author for tea. I would like you to join us.”

“Oh?” She’d certainly piqued your interest. “Who?”

“Madame Millicent,” she said. “She’s been praised as the face of female empowerment in the literary world.”

Female empowerment. This was exactly what you needed after you let Charlie throw you around like a rag doll, falling docile to his every touch and word. Hm, maybe having tea with this Madame Millicent wouldn’t be so bad.

The problem was that you hadn’t even heard of her. “What should I read to prepare?”

 “That’s up to you,” Narcissa advised. “Choose a title of hers that interests you. She has three titles out now. I have everything in the study.”

You nodded. You had about a month which gave you more than a week to clear each book. 

You had your coffee and pastry with a side of small talk, chatting with your mother about mundane topics like what her book club was reading this week and what she was doing this weekend.

Before you knew it, it was Friday afternoon, the day before the dinner. This day in particular, you found comfort in sitting on the couch in Fred and George’s flat with free use of their owl, writing letters to Charlie. This old rickety couch was now your favourite creative outlet, you supposed.

You hoped Charlie wasn’t fickle in his decisions, so you had to confirm he would be present tomorrow. 

Hi, Charlie We’re still on for tomorrow? 

Of course. 

What are you wearing

Just then, a loud explosion sounded outside. Your jerky response drew out the 'g' in your sentence. You set the quill down on the coffee table, walked to the main door, opened it, and looked to the room adjacent to the flat. 

“Are you alright?” you called out into the abyss.

You saw a thumbs up against a plum of black smoke, so you retreated back to the couch. When you returned, the letter was gone along with the owl. Minutes later, the owl returned with another letter. 

I don’t have to tell you how improper that sounds, (Y/N). I’m saving this letter for a later date. 

You wrote back with a reddening face.

You know I mean for this Saturday. And burn it, please.

The same old thing I always do. Is that okay?

An attire of a jean jacket thrown over a comfortably worn t-shirt would make your classist father curl with rage. It was perfect. 

Of course. Remember, we’re at 8 Estates Lane and dinner starts at 6 p.m. If you end up at 6 Estates Lane, you may encounter Cecile, a widow, who’s just getting over her late husband. She’s still healing, so best to leave her alone. 

Got it. See you at six tomorrow, (Y/N) darling.

In the time it took to read Charlie’s letter, Fred had tiptoed in and peered over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him in person?”

“Because,” you sighed, turning around to poke him in the face with a quill, “You make fun of me when I come over now, and Charlie doesn’t seem to like to play by the books.”

“What do you mean?”

“He shredded my script last Friday.” 

‘And touched me in places he shouldn’t have, and nearly kissed me, and made a fool of me in retrospect,’ you thought. But you wouldn’t tell Fred that was why you were nervous to see Charlie in person: because of whatever spell he’d put on you last time. 

“It wasn’t good anyway,” Fred remarked honestly. 

You furrowed your brows. You poured your heart and mind into that thing! “What do you mean?”

“You were writing lullabies. I almost fell asleep listening to them.”

“This is the least I can do to ensure some consistency,” you argued. “I won’t convince anyone at dinner if I act just as shocked as my parents.”

“Charlie isn’t going to be boxed in by whatever the rules are. He just does what feels right to him at the time, and his intuition is often correct.” Fred threw his arms up in defence after seeing your increasingly perturbed expression. “But don’t ask me, Bill knows him way better.”

“I’m sure, seeing they’re, what, two years apart?”

“They’ll tell each other everything, anything,” Fred added. “Actually, you should ask Bill if you need any blackmail material to keep Charlie in line.”

You were about to agree, but that thought was interrupted by an owl flying into the open window and pecking at you. You stared at the animal quizzically. Unless Charlie was continuing your pretty much finished conversation, then who was this for? You slit the ribbon and unfurled the parchment. Immediately, you noticed the penmanship was different. Neater. Crisper. Like it was written by someone who needed their numbers and figures written crystal clear, say, someone whose profession might be that of a bank official…

(Y/N), Charlie is wearing a black sweater and grey sweatpants. I heard you were curious as per your last letter.  Sincerely,  Bill Weasley

Noticing your mortified expression, Fred was quick to snatch the letter out of your hands. Immediately, his braying laughter filled the room.

“I told you they tell each other everything!” he boasted. 

For the third time this week, you were sure you were parading about a sinking ship.

Tick, tick.

5:58 p.m. on Saturday evening, Lucius crossed one leg over the other, looking expectedly at the circular driveway that wrapped around a marble fountain outside the main entrance. He set his cane aside and adjusted his tie, a black piece in his suit of all black.

5:59 p.m., Narcissa tapped her fingers on her stocking-clad legs. She, too, took to a dress of all black. The only colour on her body was an emerald brooch.

6:00 p.m., a wave of nausea overtook you. You fiddled with a button on your white textured cardigan that you slipped over a black pleated dress.

6:01 p.m., Draco, dressed like his father, let out a scoff at your expense. Pitiful was the sound and wounded was your ego.

“So,” Lucius’s voice cut through the tense air. “Where is Charlie?”

You blanched, at a loss for an explanation. He’d promised you he was going to be here. You had written proof, but it would have no standing in your father’s court of law. 

“Well?” he urged.

“Probably weaving his way through the forest,” you excused with as most conviction as you could muster. “It’s not easy to find such a remote location, especially a mansion on Estates Lane.”

Draco looked at his silver watch on his wrist and let out a sound of competent. “He’s already five minutes late. But I wasn’t expecting anything more from a Weasley, anyway.” Then, he suggested something you didn’t want to hear. “Father, how much longer should we wait before we call off this dinner? You and I have more important things to deal with anyway.”

“I’ll give it—”

Lucius was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. A few seconds later, Dobby came running.

“Who is it, Dobby?” Narcissa asked, standing up. 

“It’s Ms. Cromwell and Mr. Weasley.”

“Ms. Cromwell?” Lucius repeated. 

The four of you, Malfoys and all, shared the same confusion as you scurried to meet your guest—plural, you corrected, guests.

At the entrance of the door, Cecile Cromwell stood with Charlie. She was the heiress you mentioned in your letter. The grieving heiress you warned him not to bother. Her late husband, Chuck Cromwell, held a large fortune in his name before passing last month. Cecile looked polished as always, layers of diamonds and silver looped around her twill dress. Wrapped in her shawl, she looked like the face of elegance and especially juxtaposed to Charlie…

Charlie, who was not wearing what he said he was going to. In fact, he complemented Cecile perfectly. 

He’d slicked his hair back and tied the longer strands up. His blouse boasted some frilly lace that looked like it belonged on Genevieve’s wedding dress rather than his broad chest. The blouse sleeves were long, and the same frilly material poked out at his wrists. He wore a red undercoat that clashed heavily with his purple overcoat which was embroidered with gold stitches. Perhaps the most terrible thing was that his pants cut off past his knees. But his legs weren’t bare, absolutely not. He chose some sort of silk stocking to run down his legs before they were swallowed by his buckled shoes. 

“My apologies for the delay, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy,” Charlie said. “And to you, my lovely (Y/N).”

You were relieved that Lucius and Narcissa’s gazes were so zoned in on Charlie that they couldn’t even spare you a glance. Because your face was a clear tell that you weren’t expecting this at all. Whatever happened to his promise of a jean jacket and slacks? 

“I’d expected him to dress like this, something reflective of his character,” Draco whispered from beside you. “A circus act.”

“Bugger off,” you warned, giving him a push away.

“It was a rather circuitous route through the dense forest and trees,” Charlie explained, dusting off a twig that was stuck in the loopy lace of his blouse. You wanted to scream. “Luckily, I had Ms. Cromwell to guide me to safety.”

“Cecile is more than fine, Charles,” Cecile assured, smoothing out his suit for him. “As we discussed on the way here.”

“And Charlie is fine, as we discussed,” he added. 

“You didn’t have to walk all the way here, Ms. Cromwell,” Lucius said rather hastily. “It’s rather chilly. Let me have the house elf escort you back.”

“Nonsense,” she deflected, only giving Lucius a moment of her time before fixing a strand of Charlie’s hair that a branch must’ve unstuck. “Walking keeps me youthful in my old age. And meeting Charles, I mean Charlie here, was the sunshine to my gloomy day.”

“I couldn’t have assumed you were over fifty,” Charlie commented.

“Oh, you,” Cecile said with a loud giggle. You’d never seen the heiress act like a fifteen-year old.  “You remind me of my late husband so very much. Same name, just as handsome, and you’re dressed like him when we met as teenagers. Any lady would be lucky to have you.”

Well, at least someone in the room thought he looked charming in those dated robes.

“Men these days don’t possess that same sense of charming style. It’s always the same shades of black and white.”

Lucius and Draco both silently peered down at their suit of all black before Lucius said: “I fear that a storm could break any moment now, you best get going,” he insisted, nudging Dobby to take the heiress’s hand.

“I’m happy to provide direction anytime, Charlie,” Cecile reminded as Dobby guided—very gently pulled—her to the door. She shot him a wink. “You know where I live.”

Charlie stepped forward. “Of course, Cecile. Have a pleasant evening.”

Then, the door shut leaving the five of you in silence. 

“How nice it is to be able to meet your neighbours, Mr. Malfoy, despite the circumstances of my delayed arrival,” Charlie said. “It doesn’t impress well upon me. I hope I can be forgiven for the gaffe.”

It took Lucius longer than usual to register Charlie’s words. It was apparent he was embarrassed that Cecile Cromwell was cognizant that Charlie Weasley was invited to his mansion for dinner. And was dating his daughter.

“Of course,” Narcissa answered in lieu of her frozen husband. “Shall we proceed to the dining room?”

She took Lucius’s hand and gave him a less-than-gentle nudge towards the hall. Lucius walked like the troll that had somehow stormed its way into Hogwarts in your third year. Still unable to speak, he walked along with Narcissa. Draco scampered behind your parents. All you could do was stare at the chaos Charlie caused by merely arriving. 

“Come on then,” Charlie spoke in a low tone next to you. He took you by the hand as well.

“Where did you get these robes?” you asked, referring to his costume.

“It was my great-aunt’s father’s, or something of that sort. Mum wasn’t clear. It really was stowed away in the attic, and I wore it against better advice.”

“Why?”

“I’m a classy man,” Charlie boasted. “What more can I say?”

Dobby rushed back just in time to pour the wine. You were seated next to Charlie, Draco in front of you, and your parents on each side of the table. 

“How is work, Mr. Malfoy?” Charlie asked through a polite sip of red when it settled.

“It’s been keeping me busy,” Lucius responded almost robotically. 

“September is never a quiet time for the Ministry, as both my brothers and father say.”

Lucius was half-focused on conversation. He’d recovered from the Cecile incident, but there was another enemy: he couldn’t keep his eyes off Charlie’s hand that was doting touches on your arm and waist. Truthfully, neither could you. Charlie’s fingers squeezed sporadically and you thanked the wine glass for absorbing your squeal. 

“Of course not, which is why we look forward to the summer. Speaking of, where will you summer?” Lucius asked. You nearly rolled your eyes at the uppity way he worded the question. Arthur had once asked you the same, but in a direct way: ‘Where are you going this summer?’

“We spend a day or two at some of the beach resorts in Romania, or dip into Greece, but there is one spot I’ve been dying to visit,” Charlie said.

“Where is that?” Lucius pressed. 

“Your brother Theodore’s new estate in Paris.”

Lucius mouth paused mid-retort. Narcissa’s red lip was stuck, pressed against the wine glass.

You, on the other hand, had to fight the thunderous laugh rising in your chest. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucius said, shaking his head with a slight laugh of disbelief. “I didn’t catch that. Where is this?”

“(Y/N) was telling me about how tremendous your brother’s Parisian estate was,” Charlie clarified, his words full of air and cheer. “I can imagine how big it is compared to this mansion. And I hear he hosts a wickedly good game of golf, which I’d be happy to partake in.”

“It’s good enough for Paris,” Lucius said. “But—”

“See, you and I are similar in that regard,” Charlie interrupted, raising a finger. Lucius’s frown grew steeper at how Charlie was now lumping them in the same bracket. “Living in the shadows of our perfect older brothers and being constantly compared to them.”

Lucius scoffed. “My parents knew better than to do that.”

‘Yeah, right,’ you thought. Your grandfather, Abraxas, loved to pit his two sons together, like they were animals in a ring. And like an unbreakable tradition, Lucius imposed that on you and Draco, and you knew you weren’t as wonderful as the perfect little Malfoy next to you. 

“I would be pleased to meet your brother one day,” Charlie said. “Maybe next summer. After all, (Y/N) has met most of my extended family and there’s nothing that ties a partnership like family.”

“We’ll see what our plans are for next summer,” Lucius said. “It’s a little premature to be thinking of that already.”

“Of course,” Charlie conceded. “My apologies for being so rash.”

“Will you be returning to Romania?” Lucius asked. “Is it possible for you to have time off during summer with your job, anyway,?” 

“It’s hard to be thinking about the summer already,” Charlie repeated with a smile, taking Lucius’s line and stuffing it back in his own mouth.

“So, what will you and (Y/N) do to see each other?” Narcissa quickly piped in with a wife’s intuition that her husband was going to cause a scene about the manner of Charlie’s response.

“Well, I’ll try my very best to make it back to England when I can for the holidays,” Charlie promised. “But (Y/N) is also intent on visiting Romania for weeks on end if there are time constraints.”

Narcissa was startled. “And she’ll travel herself?” 

“Yes, I will,” you confirmed. Charlie glanced at over you, his expression proud and thoroughly impressed at your improvisation. You gave a small smile back. 

“All that travelling does take a toll on the body, especially that of a young woman,” Narcissa warned. You redirected your attention to your wine, evading her glance over. 

‘Oh, mother, thank you for always being so cognizant of the state of my reproductive organs,’ you thought.

Narcissa dug further into Charlie. “Have you considered settling down in one place?”

“Not in the next couple of years,” Charlie said. He was so convincing that you could see your future reflected in the polished glass in front of you, full of Romanian castles and mountains. “Nothing like travelling when we’re young, right, (Y/N)?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. We should take all the time we need.”

“Have you thought about marriage? Children? Wouldn’t it better for a family to remain in one place, too?” Narcissa asked, oblivious to Lucius’s eye that had just twitched. The thought of you and Charlie producing off-spring might’ve been revolting for him to forget about dinner altogether. 

Charlie looked solemn. “That might not be in the picture.”

You quickly looked over. This was far from what you would’ve wanted him to say, but Charlie squeezed your knee to silence you. You almost kicked up at the table. 

“It’s a shared decision, is it not?” Narcissa asked.

“Yes, of course,” you added breathlessly. Best to just play along with Charlie. “And I think, I think… the same.”

“We’ll re-evaluate in ten years,” Charlie assured.

“Ten—!” Lucius finally spoke for his wife, before cutting himself off.  “And you’ll be how old then, Charles?”

“Thirty-nine,” Charlie responded. Rubbing salt on the wound, he reminded your parents: “And (Y/N) will be thirty-three.”

Now it was Narcissa’s turn to look as white as a spirit. She had you when she was twenty-four, and Draco at twenty-six. Comparatively, thirty-three was geriatric. 

You bit down to quell the laugh that was trying to escape your lips. Charlie knew how to make your parents tick and hit each box perfectly, like he was scoring points on the Quidditch field in his prime years. In your little ‘lullaby’, you and Charlie were having ten kids, but having none was clearly the better option. You did prefer your mother over your father and hated to make her upset, but the constant reminder on you and never Draco to be married, to bear children, to be a mother yourself, was a lot. 

“Draco will obviously carry on the family name should my decision remain unchanged.” You nudged Draco with your foot. Your tone was devilish; it was time for Draco to bear the burden of everything. “Won’t you?”

Draco growled back. You both loved offloading familial duties onto each other.

“What is your reason, Charles, if you don’t mind me asking?” Narcissa asked. 

“Seeing how much my parents had to sacrifice and give up for themselves,” Charlie responded, a tinge of sadness coating his voice. 

Again, if Charlie Weasley needed a second career, acting wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility. 

“Well, when you make the decision to have more children than you can afford, that seems like an unavoidable issue,” Lucius said hotly. 

“They struggled, but I wouldn’t trade any of my siblings for anything in the world.”

The air of the room was clouded with confusion. Lucius was set out to hate Charlie, but Charlie was acting the part of a perfect, coiffed gentleman (save for the remarks about Uncle Theo’s bigger estate and inviting himself over). Narcissa, though milder than Lucius, would’ve preferred a different man for you than Charlie Weasley, but she was upset you weren’t set out to have her grandchild(ren) anytime soon. Draco, always in the mood for a snarky comment, didn’t know whether to laugh or continue to live through the horror of a conversation your parents were actually invested in. 

“Very well,” Lucius said, leaning back. “It’s a shame Kingsley’s new policies have made it harder for the working class to have children.”

You groaned internally. Even Draco, who was always on his father’s side, rolled his eyes at Lucius’s favourite topic: blaming every bad thing in the world on the current Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. It was easier for him to have sway over his predecessor, Cornelius Fudge. Well, before Fudge was forced to resign over some controversies in his office. 

“Undoubtedly,” Charlie backed him up with a nod. Lucius looked at him with surprise; he hadn’t expected him to agree. But you didn’t think Charlie was going to, based on the crafty smirk on his face. “It’ll take decades to undo the damage Fudge put forth in his years in office, draining funding from things like childcare and parental leave and putting that money in the pockets of his friends instead.”

There it was. 

Shadows appeared on Lucius’s countenance. “Fudge did no such thing.”

Draco slammed his face into his hands. 

Lucius continued. “He’s only ever introduced good policies, like the potential reintroduction of dragon domestication.” 

“Having spent a decade near them, I can say they’re absolutely not suitable for domestication,” Charlie pointed out. 

“The earliest of Malfoys have been domesticators of dragons,” Lucius stated. “And they did very well, before the Ministers of Magic intervened.”

It was a touchy topic for your father indeed. Centuries ago, Malfoys did the unfathomable: they domesticated dragons and the only way to do that was to really hurt the beasts. And hunted them for sport. The same terrible creatures that had power to burn down cities, the same creatures that people staked their lives to tame. But ethics and politics shook down on the practice, and dragon domestication reflected once again in a bad light. 

Or that was what you’d read. Lucius preferred to say that those in power were gleeful to finally shake down on Malfoys. Maybe it was just transgenerational shame. You knew Malfoys hated being told what to do. 

“For good reason. The fatality rate of those trying to domesticate dragons was beyond any acceptable threshold, and vice versa.” Charlie’s voice was now lower, more serious than you’d ever heard him. His lovely bass notes reverberated in your ear and sent a chill down your spine.

“So, what exactly is the point of your job?” Lucius asked hotly. “Don’t you, on a technicality, domesticate them?”

“I study and work with them, Mr. Malfoy,” Charlie corrected. In a battle for authority, Charlie was winning. “You can call it taming, if you’d like, so they’re less destructive to the environment and wizardkind. I can make them pliable for transport as well.”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Lucius and Charlie. 

Behind Charlie’s cool and collected demeanour, you had to wonder if he was affected by your father’s words. You knew he cared deeply about dragons, never even taking more than a week off them in the past decade. He wouldn’t ever fathom hurting them for personal gain.

“Let’s have some dinner, shall we?” Narcissa said quickly. No one wanted to see Lucius riled up over politics.

The rest of dinner proceeded without a hitch, in your eyes at least. In between courses, Charlie pulled you close and whispered in your ears. You were sure this was for show because you didn’t understand anything he was saying, or maybe it was because you were too busy gazing into his deep blue eyes and studying every freckle on his cheek.

When the clock struck nine, and the last drop of coffee was had, Charlie excused himself to leave.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy for such a delightful evening,” Charlie remarked at the door. “And for such an insightful discussion on dragon domestication, Mr. Malfoy.”

Charlie was tempting war.

“I would be happy to discuss this topic anytime, Charles,” Lucius responded icily. 

Charlie hummed in agreement. “Of course.” Then, he turned to you. 

In a flash, all you could see was a mouthy smirk that had definitely sunk ships in past lifetimes. 

His right arm reached out to take you by the waist to spin you around. You expected him to only bid you goodnight but you were way off the mark. His lips remained silent. His left hand did all the talking by climbing to the back of your neck to position you how he wanted. He tilted your head back and inched closer and then—

His lips landed on yours. 

You might’ve been flustered or pushed him away under normal circumstances, but this was no normal circumstance. Unsure of what to do, you lay immobile in his arms, like that rag doll you promised you weren’t going to be. Except you were, again. He was playing you like a marionette puppet and his hands were the strings. His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of the dress until you could feel each one. His lips stuck on yours like honey, like a fruit lolly from Honeydukes on a hot summer day. His eyelashes brushed against your eyelids as he tilted your head down further to deepen the kiss.

Patches of muscled torso pressed against the front of your body. Warmth seeped from his hand to the back of your neck as his palm caressed your skin while his fingers tangled themselves in your hair.

He deepened the kiss once more before pulling away. 

You stumbled upwards as he withdrew himself. Your fingers ghosted over your flushed lips in disbelief, but again, no one saw. In this moment, no one cared about you. 

When the stars faded and vision came to be, the first thing you saw were the agape mouths of your parents. But they weren’t going to chastise Charlie over the improper way he said goodbye; there were no words to be had.

“Have yourself a wonderful evening,” Charlie said in a manner so unaffected that you didn’t understand. He had just given you the most electric kiss you’ve ever had, and in front of your parents and brother. “And many thanks again for having me.”

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