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#how many years of therapy do we need here
cry-ptidd · 5 months
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I got a currently unrelated but important and angst af question(s?);
I know you said that Jean didn’t know that the beast of gevaudan was his daughter Laura, but imagine if he did, before or after he ‘killed’ the beast. Can you imagine the raw heart ache and grief finding how that his baby girl was turned into a monster and (had to) killed her?
Also, if Jean and Laura somehow met in modern Hellsing, even for five minutes, what would be said between father and daughter?
Enjoy the pain ☺️
I'll add onto that, anon, and share some historical facts with you that make this situation even more painful!
According to sources (article in French citing Guy Crouzet), Chastel's signature doesn't appear on the Marin report written the morrow after the beast's death, the 20th of June 1767. In the article, they speculate as to why, considering it was very clear according to eye witnesses and the lord of Apcher. According to Crouzet, the hypothesis could be that he either wasn't invited to sign it or that he was, but refused to attend.
If we want to take this into Laura's story and canon, then the idea that Jean who is hailed as the hero of Gévaudan for killing the beast and whose signature on that report would've "hailed and justified his glory and exploit for centuries to come", refused to attend it. He knew how to write and read, everyone knew he was the one that fired the shot. Why wouldn't he come?
Of course, why wouldn't he come. He will be given money and his name will be remembered as the hero who slew the beast and ended its reign of terror. Except the beast had his daughter's eyes, the eldest daughter he hadn't seen in 9 years because of a single day where she went to herd cows in a clearing, when whatever the hell started to happen to her. He hadn't heard from her since, he didn't know what she became, if her affliction was cured, if she was taken care of. The daughter he knew as kind and obedient and devout and the sweetest and a bit naive child he proudly loved, then the worst thing happens to her and years later something similar to what she's seen, a "wolf-like creature" terrorizing the locals, starts to happen again.
And two years after the beast's continuous rampages, he finally meets it face to face, and it's unnervingly familiar.
He would barely have the time to even process what happened before it's torn up, and he'd recognize the awful monster he just shot was his daughter that he left in the care of holy men to cure her and she was supposed to be better so what the hell was that thing he just shot? Is that supposed to be what happened to his child? This creature, so hateful and plain ungodly, is what his little girl grew into?
And now he's invited to sign the Marin report to confirm that indeed he did shoot the beast. It's what he will be remembered for, for killing the monster that no one knows is his eldest daughter that "succumbed to an illness" nine years ago and he's later offered just 72 pounds for the life of his daughter. That's what she was worth, apparently.
It was also noted that the beast's body was very poorly embalmed after its recovery. I imagine that whatever they found - or whatever the dogs had torn up in Laura's stead - had a rough time. I think that if Chastel saw it here, he would've been thankful for everything to not recognize the dead eyes staring up at him.
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rosicheeks · 9 months
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cheekblush · 2 years
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spent the whole day in bed on my phone someone please assassinate me
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neverendingford · 7 months
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#tag talk#making progress in therapy because I finally got annoyed enough to go on a twenty minute monologuing about how#I'm tired of getting projected onto and put in these cute little “here's how to manage your anxiety” boxes#yeah body scanning is cool I learned that seven years ago when I was having panic attacks and now I don't have them anymore#actually when I'm anxious focusing on all my five senses makes me even more overstimulated so I close my eyes and don't focus on what I hear#yes I already know how anxiety works and at this point I'm past the emotional fear response and it's now just an overloaded cpu problem#hey hey hey fucking listen to me yeah the circle of control is cute but when people are stupid enough I actually Can control them#I tried to tell her politely that I've already graduated from psych 101 basic bitch mental illness school for freaks.#but she didn't really get it so I stewed for half an hour while she talked about bullshit and then I kinda went off about it#like. hey I'm not incapable of holding relationships long term because I'm afraid of them it's because I'm a freak who doesn't belong.#I'm not afraid of other people. if anything people are afraid of Me. and yes that does make me afraid of social rejection as a whole#but can we please move past kindergarten levels of self understanding and move on to something useful?#yeah yeah yeah you all keep on being like “hmm let's address your depression” I'm so fucking tired of getting told coping methods#how many more snide comments about suicide hotlines do I need to make before you get the hint that I don't just need a hug.#anyway I'm gonna make a list of things I want to talk about and problems I want to address and email it to her and hopefully that helps
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scientia-rex · 6 months
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I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.
I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.
You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)
I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)
Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.
The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.
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neil-gaiman · 5 months
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Hi Neil.
I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.
First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.
So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…
Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)
Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.
Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.
(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)
I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.
But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.
I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.
But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.
I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.
It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.
I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.
My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”
But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.
In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.
Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”
As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.
I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…
The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.
So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.
People always say “it’s never too late.”
One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”
I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”
It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.
Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”
But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.
Whew.
So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.
And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.
Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.
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Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)
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thisismeracing · 7 months
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The one | CS55
― Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader (she/her) ― Warnings: mentions of break up and food; typos. ― Summary: Yn is doing well a few months after her break up with Carlos, and so is he. Everyone thinks that this paragraph of their lives is over, but as it happens they may be a chapter to each other, and Yn makes sure everyone knows he was her great love, the one - through her new song. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛
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February, 2023
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February, 2024
realyn
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realyn "The One" has just come out on all streaming platforms. I hope this piece of my heart reaches yours. Tune in and dive into the feels 💐🤍
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saintsainz "for old time's sake" HELLO?????
ynsummer omg another bop!!! I wish I could write songs when I'm sad, the few breakups I had I could only cry and try not to choke on my own phlegm
⤷ fan2000 ewwww LOL
hammert1m3 charles on the likes 👀
leclowns1655 in my head they're not over yet
⤷ mercmickey you need therapy, bestie
lewishamilton great music as usual 💜
francisca.cgomes 😍😍
szadirection I love how the grid's still here supporting here even a year after she and carlos broke up 🥺
popyn WE WERE SOMETHING DON'T YOU THINK SOOO ROSÉ FLOWING WITH YOUR CHOSEN FAMILY 🎤🎤🎤🎤
ferraristrangers I have so many theories for the lyrics and the cover and kksjksdj aaaaaaaa
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Old posts
March, 2018
realyn
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realyn eat pasta, run fasta, they said 😋😂
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bieberf1 they my new fav couple now 💋
raintyresainz thank you for feeding us that last carlos pic
hurricaneyn welp now I wanna eat pasta but its like the middle of the night
⤷ alonsochamp eat pasta, sleep fasta 😙😂
carlossainz55 ❤️❤️
amarelorenault her glasses are so cool!!!!! her style is always on point
carlossainz55
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liked by yourfriend, fernandoalo_oficial, and others
carlossainz55 we tried homemade, it worked 😋
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realyn we didn't run fasta this time though :(
⤷ carlossainz55 there wasn't any race this Sunday, cariño
⤷ realyn shhhh, let me be funny
harrystylistee I want what they have!
April, 2018
realyn
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realyn enjoyed April with my fav spaniard, wrote a few songs for you guys - new album dropping soon!!!!! 🥳
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aussiegrid howd you like Australia, Yn?
⤷ realyn I loved it, def gonna come back soon 🥰
ynfan 💙💙💙💙💙💙
carlosfullname1 where’s your jacket from?
⤷ realyn website.com 😘
fab2000 can’t wait for the new song and espec the new album!!!!!
July, 2018
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 Yn's new album "I used to know her" is out now and you guys should run to listen to it 💙💙 she did an amazing job as usual. I'm very proud of you, cariño @ realyn
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lewishamilton congrats, Yn!
hulkhulkenberg everyone here loved the new album, well done, Yn!
renaultf1team its our garage soundtrack 😎💛
March, 2019
realyn
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realyn the past few months wearing papaya have been amazing! 🧡 and yes, last concert clothes were orange bc of the team
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landonorris looks like the concert clothes gave us some luck, make sure to wear orange again next time!
⤷ realyn I love you guys but I can't be wearing orange all the time
⤷ yourmanager yes, you can
⤷ realyn shut up, I'm gonna fire your ass
⤷ yourmanager no, you won't
⤷ carlossainz55 jajajaja
tifosinha I love how lando looks like their kid 😂
spaincarlos_ not yn and carlos adopting lando lol
ynfan4 her music taste is *chef kiss* 🤌🏾
ynandsainz yn, your album still on repeat on my apple music!
mclaren 🧡🧡
December, 2019
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Navidad! 🎄❤️
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saturnracer FELIZ NAVIDAD TAN TAN TAN PROSPERO AÑO Y FELICIDAD 🎤
szalover 😭😍 its the way she loves pasta
⤷ cowboyvettel @ realyn pasta or carlos? choose one
⤷ realyn carlos cooking pasta 😙😋😜
July, 2020
realyn
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realyn compilation of some of the flowers Carlos gave me and pics he took 💖 Te amo, cariño 💐🌷🌹🌸🌺🌼🌻
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fonedirection God I see what youve done for others
carlossainz55 you’re my favorite flower, love 🌸💖
⤷ fernandoalo_official you guys know how to be sicklengly cute huh 🙄
piastripastry see? carlos gets flowers regularly to yn and yall out there crying over an ugly ass man who gives you the bare minimum 🫵
March, 2021
realyn
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realyn new character unlocked hehe ❤️💛🏎️
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ynfrance We want a new album, queen!!! save us!
swiftverstappen the way they went through everything togerher 🤧
⤷ russellsainz I want what they have
monegasque16 another day another yn post to make me cry in single and alone
carlossainz55 thank you for the endless support, cariño 💛 you’re my everything
tifosisunshine you’re 😭 my 😭 everything 😭
August, 2022
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 my kind of free-weekends 🩵
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sunnyyn yn looks so good 😍😍
yourbestie ❤️ aweee
realyn te amo! 😘
January, 2023
realyn
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realyn happy new year 🙃
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charlsmonaco where's carlos? 😟
mylightyn I don't like this vibe…
ynwardrobe what is she reading?
lewishamilton 💙
⤷ mclatinha lew do you happen to know something we don’t?
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Año Nuevo! 🎉
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brocedes2010 where's Yn??????
schumini_ at least they seem to be on the same place 🙏🏾🙏🏾
redsainz he looks so good it hurts
back to 2024 💬📩
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inkskinned · 1 year
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i'm used to it, and how bad it is, and how often it's so bad that it rings like a bell inside of me, drowning out everything around me. and the truth is that i get frustrated with myself about it - again? we're like this still? again? it's not that i feel weak, precisely. it's just this sense almost like - i've already been pushing against this thing for years now, shouldn't i have gained more ground?
i get frustrated because i'm sick of picking up the loose ends every six months. i get frustrated because it's always this same shit, same problem - i lose myself in a matter of months; spiral out of control, lose touch with friends and loved ones. i stop taking care of myself and therapy gets hard and i let everything around me wilt and shrivel and fall off; start somehow both sleeping too much and not-enough. i panic-attack and cry in my car in a target parking lot, pulling my hair out and hurting my ribs from sobbing so hard - and later, when i'm better, i'm embarrassed because how could i let it get that far?
it feels like - i already have done this so many times. isn't there a way out of it? isn't there a point where i've just... won? that it never happens again, that i just get to be done? maybe this is weakness, i guess - that i still (so often!) succumb.
i am used to it, so i forget exactly how hard it gets. do you even know how many times i've laid in bed, exhausted, blank and numb and listless and said - i can't anymore. i just can't. i'm not even really upset. it's okay. i've been here long enough. so much of my life was beautiful.... i'm just... done.
do you know how many times i woke up and i said - i can't and put my feet on the floor and said i can't, i don't want to and took a shower and walked the dog and bought myself fresh bread and put a nice playlist on and said i really can't, there's no end to this and i went to work and i called a friend and i made myself cookies even if food tasted like ashes and decided that i really should wait for the new album from that artist i love and i thought i can't, it's not worth it and then i washed my hands and cut my hair and drank more water and wrote a poem and signed up for an art class at the local community college and said i can't, i can't, i won't do this again, and i paid my rent and let the dishes rot in the sink but still made myself eat anything fresh even if it meant overdrawing my account on a stupid bag of plums just because they looked delicious and do you know how often i closed my eyes and thought this is it i really fucking can't, something has to give and i have nothing left that it can take and then i went to bed and i got up and i fucking survived anyway
yesterday the local ice cream place opened up for the first time this season and they were giving out tiny samples of their new dairy-free options and i tried a mango sorbet. three months ago i was positive that februrary was going to be my last month on the planet. i am teaching my dog a new trick and i just discovered a new band i love. i got a plant from the clearance aisle and repotted her and she's been perking up. i made salmon for alison and we ate it in her new house with her new beautiful baby girl. my manager told me he keeps recommending my work to others just because i always include a stupid number of puns. tomorrow i'm trying a new dance class. tomorrow i'm maybe going to buy more plums.
i forget, you know? it's not some bone-deep strength or some magical power. it's that some part of me knows - i need to stay. in all of this; out of all of this - i just want to choose love.
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harstyle · 5 months
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the styles' nanny: part two
Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.
Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry
Word-count: 10.2k
Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex
here’s part one!
A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!
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I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now. 
I’ll see you soon,
Y/N
That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered. 
Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.
Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.
It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself.  Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.
“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?” 
Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum. 
“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.” 
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?” 
“Of course.” 
As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.
But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.
He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.
He was ready to offer that to her.
Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.
And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.
“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”
Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.
She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.
Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.
“No.”
His eyebrow raised, “no?”
“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”
He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.
“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”
“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”
Concern warped his features.
“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”
She’d turned heads.
“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.” 
She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.
“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.
The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.
“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”
“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”
“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”
In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.
“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.
As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.
“Are you driving me to my apartment?”
And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.
“Where’s Jamie?”
He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”
“Oh.”
The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.
Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.
“Y/N, have some water.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.
He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m tired.”
“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”
She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”
“Y/N.”
That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.
“Why’d you go out drinking again?”
“Wanted to.”
“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”
“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”
Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.
Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke,  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”
Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”
“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”
It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.
The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.
It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.
“You still there, baby?”
And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.
But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.
“Yeah.”
“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”
“No, I‘m not like you.”
“Ouch.”
Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.
“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”
His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”
And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine. 
“Yeah.”
“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”
Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.
 “Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”
She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”
Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.
“I know so.”
“Thank you.”
“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.
“You sure?”
“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”
And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?
For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.
“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.
She knew what.
“Nothing.”
“M’kay.”
“Stand up for me?”
Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.
As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.
“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”
He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.
“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.
He hummed, “I know.”
“But thank you.”
“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”
“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”
Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.
“Last time what?”
He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.
He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.
Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.
What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.
She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.
Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.
Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”
“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”
“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”
“Probably.”
Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.
“I—“
“Are you— oh, sorry.”
“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.
Harry smiled, “are you okay?”
“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“
Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”
“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”
Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”
“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.
“No go on, tell me.”
“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”
“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”
“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”
“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.
The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.
“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”
A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.
“Oh.”
He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.
“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.
There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.
“But you…”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t… because of yesterday?”
“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”
His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“
“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”
“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”
She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”
“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”
“Yes.”
Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”
“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”
“Enlighten me then.”
Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.
So she deflected.
“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“
“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”
“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."
Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.
“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”
“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”
“I don’t know.”
She almost laughed, “sure”
“Sweetheart—“
“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”
“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”
“There’s nothing to consider, okay?!  I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“
What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.
It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.
Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.
But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.
“Wait.”
His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”
“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.
“Tell me to stop and I will.”
Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.
He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.
“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”
She only nodded.
He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.
Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.
Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.
The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.
Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).
As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.
“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”
“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”
“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”
“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”
Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.
“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”
Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”
“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“
“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”
Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.
“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”
“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.
It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”
“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”
“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“
“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”
A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.
Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.
And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone:  “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.
Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.
“Y/N—“
“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“
“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”
She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.
“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”
Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”
“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”
Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”
“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”
“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”
“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”
“Do you love her?”
Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.
Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.
Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.
“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”
Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.
Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.
When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.
“That’s… yeah. I get that.”
This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.
Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.
“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”
Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight.  “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”
“Okay.”
A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”
“I’d like you to come.”
“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”
“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”
“I’m quitting. That’s it.”
“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“
“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”
She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.
Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.
And yet, he was determined to keep trying.
Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.
The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.
This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.
“So how flexible is time for you?”
“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”
“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”
“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”  
This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.
That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.
“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”
Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”
“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”
“I don’t expect you to understand—“
“No. We’re not doing that.”
“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”
“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“
“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”
And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”
“For good reason.”
“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”
“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”
Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.
“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”
“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”
He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”
“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.
“Do you have another job lined up?“
“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”
“Where?”
“A cafe.”
“Where?”
“You wouldn’t know it.”
“Are you hired?”
She huffed, “no.”
“Where else?”
“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”
“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”
“No.”
“Financial help, maybe?”
Y/N groaned, “no.”
“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“
“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“
“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“
“Can we just— can we not?”
And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts.  Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.
There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.
For now, he had to be okay with this.
Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.
She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.
He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.
But it hadn‘t been real, had it?
It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.
Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.
But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.
Wouldn‘t he?
He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.
And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.
She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.
“You okay?”
“Hm? Yes. Why?”
A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”
“What? No, I’m fine.”
God, she was feeling small under his gaze.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”
His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”
“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”
But she failed to move.
Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.
“Sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”
Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“
“Last night you what?”
“I had… I had this dream and—“
She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.
“Is this okay?”
His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”
He hummed.
“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”
“It’s only seven.”
“Yeah.”
Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat.  He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder. 
“Can you do my arms?”
“Of course, baby.”
She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.  
And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.
“Is this okay?”
She nodded promptly, heart racing.
Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.
A love like his would feel so great.
“You look really beautiful, you know that?”
“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Me neither.”
“You’re the one who keeps running.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.
“I’m scared to stay.”
He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”
“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“
“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”
Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”
“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”
“I doubt that,” he retorted.
“Past experiences have proven as much.”
He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”
Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”
“How easy it is to love you.”
Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.
“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”
Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.
And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.
When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.
A month later.
“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”
As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.
She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.
“Thank you, sweetheart.”
She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”
“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”
“You ready then?”
“Yes.”
Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.
“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”
Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.
“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”
“Yes, they still are.”
Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”
“You said that you don’t.”
“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”
Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”
“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”
“Who?”
Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.
“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.
He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.
When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.
“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”
The silence was short lived.
He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”
“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”
“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”
“Really?”
“I do.”
This stumped her.
And now it was her turn: “wow.”
Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.
“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”
She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.
“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“
“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“We’ve only been together—“
“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”
“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”
And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.
“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”
“Would he?”
“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”
“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.
“Then move in with us.”
A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”
“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”
“Harry!”
“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“
“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”
“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”
“I know that.”
“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”
“I need to make money somehow.”
“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”
“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”
“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“
Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”
“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”
“Sorry.”
Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”
Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”
Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t regret it."
He'd been right.
--
The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it
tags:
@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl
I hope I didn’t forget anyone!
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lovrsm · 8 days
Text
“ꜱʟᴜᴛ!”
sum: Ferraris golden boy moves over to RedBull Racing Team.
Daughter of the CEO of Red Bull, you’ve grown to love racing, and in the way making new friends. Even if you felt like your world was falling apart, even when you denied it, he was the only one you needed. And there was absolutely nothing that could change his mind about your beautiful self, the way he loves you.
word count:idk, prb 2k
pairing: rb!charles leclerc x horner!reader
warnings: name calling, alcohol, smut f! receiving, first time writing real horny shit!
a/n: sorry for the long intro, I swear it’s worth it😔✋ LOOOL, I WROTE THIS LIKE A YEAR AGOO, and I rlly wanted to clear up my drafts but this is too good to not come out. Yet idk if I have any mistakes, if I do let me know!! Also, checo acting as a dad (#IloveCheco)
Spotify - Apple Music
ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
“and I break down, then he’s pullin’ me in In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman”
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Clink, clink, that’s what our champagne glasses sounded like together.
“Congratulations, what a wonderful year. It’s been a pleasure being with all of you.” Sergio, Checo Perez, made a brief goodbye to your team.
He was leaving Red Bull. Everyone here loved him, and loves him, including yourself. He became quickly your family after seeing him every day for more than 3 years.
“We will miss you” your dad palms his back, making Checo break a smile.
“It isn’t the end yet, you know that boss.” He laughed.
His reasons? Family, everything for him, he couldn’t bare leaving them anymore alone, so he decided after, several years, to leave formula 1. After helping Max to win his championships, he is a fucking legend.
“Well, I won’t leave you alone, I will still drag you everywhere, you know? Even after you leave.” Max and Checo have developed a very special bond, even if social media said otherwise.
“We, wont leave you alone, you still owe me those therapy sessions” I winked at him, he became a very big emotional support for me, believe it or not, he’s got some great advice to give.
“Lovely dinner” I took a picture of all of us with my camera, a goodbye dinner for Checo, and tomorrow, all of the world would see this on the newspaper.
-
“I really don’t know what to do, do you know how many drivers have reached us out in the last 2 hours? I mean, I have a few options but they keep giving me more reasons and… I just don’t know.” My dad was stressed, typing in his computer as if his life depended on it.
“It’s going to be alright, okey? You don’t necessarily need to worry about it right now, we still have a championship to win, you know?” I gave him a cup of tea, just so he could relax a bit.
When something is about work, everything else doesn’t matter. At all.
“We’ll watch your options, alright? I can help you with anything you want” I smiled at him.
“When did you became such a great business woman?”
“You’re my father, of course I’m hardworking.”
-
“Red Bull did it again, Max Verstappen and Sergio Perez, world champion and sub-champion!”
Screams from Max and Checo blasted my ears, P1 and P2, again. Absolutely no mistakes. The internet going crazy. And somehow it all became quiet.
“Who will get that Red Bull seat next year? Will he be a fit to Sergio Perez place?”
Everyone went outside to celebrate, while I stayed so I could hear the TV and media.
what do people want?
“Ferrari didn’t have a great year, let’s hope they both get a better car”
“I agree! Great drivers, such a shame Ferrari has been getting worse every year. What a waste of talent.” The other interviewer said.
Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz appeared in the screen. Both with an obvious forced smile plastered in their faces.
Charles, my secret crush ever since… forever. Was I obvious? Not a single soul knew, well, except him.
-
Charles Leclerc signed in RedBull that was the only thing appearing on my feed right now . Red bull? Bullshit, you mean? What kind of a big lie is that?
Internet was filled with Charles leaving Ferrari for RedBull.
In what twisted universe does that even happen?
I later learned, I am living in that twisted world, and I discovered the great news in social media, and not my own team.
“What do you mean Charles Leclerc, dad? Why wasn’t I even informed about this. Wait, hold on, when did it even crossed your mind?!” I was dignified.
Following around the kitchen.
“I didn’t have to, oh, I do think I need to tell you this, he’s coming to dinner tonight so wear something nice.”
Wear something nice.
Thanks dad, as always, you’re so, so great.
Night time came sooner than expected, if my dad hosts a dinner, even if there’s a million, or just one person coming over, he likes to be extra.
-
Almost time, 8:00 and it is 7:50, all that was missing was the dress. It was placed on my bed. Showing all of it’s beauty.
Navy blue, our color. It was my dream dress.
Light, silky and fancy dress.
I walked downstairs, watching people running and arranging everything, doing just the final touches.
I’ve come to learn, that people arrive late, or just in time. Never earlier.
“Ah, what a beautiful young woman I have here!” Geri, my father’s wife came to greet me.
“You look amazing, I knew that dress would be perfect for you!”
“Geri, you are amazing, seriously. Thank you, and look at you! We both look gorgeous.” I smiled at her and we linked arms, she and I were walking towards the garden, where would be the dinner.
Some big, round, wooden tables were set in the middle. Each seat would have a name, decorated with a white flower in the middle of the plate.
It was easy to find my place. I was at the biggest one of all, where the most important people of this night would be seated.
Lucky for me, his name was right next to my plate.
In a matter of seconds, people started to arrive, old friends, and new faces passed through those doors.
This will be a great night.
“Funny to find you here, it’s been some time since I last saw you…” I rolled my eyes, I (sadly) recognized that voice anywhere.
“Go away Mike.” I grabbed my wine glass and took a big sip out of it. “C’mon princess, where are your manners?” He got too close to me.
“Hey y/n! Your dad was looking for you, like right now.” Max Verstappen here to save my day.
“Oooh that’s unfortunate, I’m so so so sorry Mike, hope to see you later!” I waved him off and quickly moved towards Max who then friendly linked his arm with mine.
“I owe you one.” I sighed. “You owe me much more than 1, little one.” I laughed at him.
We got close to my father, who now had a microphone at his hand.
“Hello everyone, thank you for coming here and be with us tonight. A toast for Checo here!” He announced and a light was shining on Checo, standing from his seat.
“It has been a wonderful year, sadly it has to end. And I know I’m not the first to tell you that an incredible young talent will be joining us for next season.”
There he was. Navy suit with our logo on him. His hair was messy yet perfectly placed. He showed his dimples and I’m sure I heard someone behind me moan at his sight.
My heart rate was increasing slowly but surely.
“y/n, you’re going to squeeze all my blood from my arm. Stop.” Max whispered in my ear.
Shit. I basically dug my nails into his arm due to my tiny crush.
“Yeah, It’s amazing to know that I’m to race with RedBull next year. I hope we can achieve everything we’ve dreamed of. Looking forward to race with my lifetime partner, Max here.”
Now the light was on Max and me. I discreetly let go of max so that he could have the spotlight. As Max waved I looked back at Charles.
The dimples in his face showed even more, he was looking at me too.
“I can’t wait to work with these wonderful people, and I hope we have a great year to remember, thank you and enjoy this night!” He raised his glass and so did all.
“Well, I hope we don’t have any inchidents” Max laughed at his own joke. Dad joke I must say.
“Well If you don’t push me off the track I think we’ll be just fine” his voice gave me chills. I felt his chest on my back.
I wasn’t strong enough to turn around.
“Oh, shoot, you hear that? I think P is calling me!”
“No, Max-” I tried to stop him.
Around Charles, I barely have control over myself.
“Uh-huh, yeah that’s P, she wants to go to the bathroom, and she needs food, ok have a great night bye!” He rushed to god knows where.
“You really don’t want to be with me, do you?” He whispered on my ear. Feeling the heat of his breath.
“Why wouldn’t I? You are such a lovely company, mr Leclerc.” I gathered the strength and turned around, and his beautiful green eyes shined at me, making me blush.
“Look at you, could you get any more beautiful?”
He lowered so he could whisper again. “I’ve missed you” I looked around real quick, thankfully Max took everyone’s attention on the other side of the place.
“Not here, Charles.” I whimpered.
“Yes here, I can finally be with you, do you think I would waste any more time pretending to not love you? If you do, let me tell you, you are completely wrong.”
He kept whispering, his hands slowly finding his way to my hips. And mine to his collarbone.
“It’s not even 9pm, Leclerc, this party hasn’t even started” I fighted against my own will to drag him upstairs.
“You know I’ll wait, just for you.” He winked at me, before slowly letting me go and walking away.
“You’re not coming, mon coeur?” Charles turned around to look at me. “If you insist.” I happily walked by his side.
We walked and talked for a few minutes before Mike magically appeared before us.
“Oh not even 5 seconds and you are already like a slut with the new driver” He looked at me with a disgusted face.
“Excuse her? Don’t tall to her like that. Do we even know you?” Charles used a very cold tone on him. And Mike started to stumble on his word.
“Uhm, no, she does, like I was something to her-”
“Was, that’s a key word, pal. Don’t you ever talk to her, no, don’t you ever talk to any woman that way do you understand?”
Now, I can defend myself just fine, but that right there soaked my pants in an unexplainable way.
“Get out of our sight, man.” And he crawled away.
“That was hot.” I whispered and he blushed. “Your mother did raise a gentleman.” I smiled at him and he gave me a cheek kiss.
-
Lost on the moonlit pool, drinking my… 11th (?) glass of wine at 1 in the morning while everyone was still dancing, was weird.
My feet swinging as I drink the last drop of my glass.
I went on a side quest myself just to get distracted for a bit. All the noise was going to hurt my ears if I stayed any longer.
“Here you are, you got lost?” He sat down at my side. Didn’t have to look, his thick accent gave him away immediately.
I took a long breath and rested my head on his shoulder . “Yes, Charles, I’m going to get lost in my own house.” I felt him move beside me. He then had his feet in the pool, just as I did.
I smiled to myself.
“Has anyone told you just how beautiful you look today?”
“You have, more than once.”
“I couldn’t let that slip, you do look beautiful with that dress. It suits you just perfectly.”
He paused.
“But I bet you’d look much better without it.”
I nervously chuckled at his comment.
“You haven’t talked to me in ages, you came back being a driver for my father, and now you want to have sex? Why don’t you already make me your wife?!” I dramatically fell into his arms
“Ages? I talked to you last week!” He showed his teeth to me in a smile. “That was a long time ago! Besides, you never told me about you and RedBull.” I sit straight up again.
“I needed your dad to love me one way or another. How else am I going to get him to approve of our marriage?” He joked.
“You are unbelievable Leclerc.” I stood up, and grabbed my high-heels on my hand, walking back to the party barefoot.
I surrounded part of the pool, my dad wanted to add a bar right beside it, and it was freshly cemented.
He quickly copied my moves, but instead, he went on a straight line to me, and in a step he covered his feet in cement, falling down and thankfully placing his hands before getting worse.
“Shit!” I ran back to help him. I stupidly placed my hand in the cement, the other helping Charles to get up.
“Look, we made a masterpiece! Your handprints and mine in wet cement.”
“And your feet.” I laughed
“And my feet… I really need to wash this off before it gets dry.” I grabbed his hand and he followed my lead.
If my dad sees that I’m getting his new driver to my room…
We rushed through the multitude of people on the garden.
“Ooh we’re going to your bedroom, can’t remember what happened last time there…” he whispered shouted as we were running up the stairs.
I jokingly rolled my eyes at him. We were giggling like children. He kept making dirty jokes and as much as I tried to control myself I’d end up giggling much more.
We got there quicker than I thought. With my clean hand I closed the door and he was already in my bathroom washing his hands, and feet with water. I ran to his side and did the same with my left hand.
“I’m done” I announced and got out of the bathroom. Deciding to do a touch up for my makeup, thankfully nothing was much out of place, but my lipstick faded.
I slowly applied it looking in the mirror, and through it I saw a curious Charles looking at me. “Why do you even apply lipstick?” He slowly walked towards me.
I took my sweet time spreading the color on my lips.
“Cause we are going back, party is not over.”
“But we don’t need to.” He grabbed me by the waist and turned me around to look at him and he swiftly placed me on the desk. A smirk plastered on his face, as he slowly got on his knees.
“Charles…”
He got to his knees, not breaking eye contact with me.
“You know that if you say no, I won’t do anything. But I’m not hearing those words, am I?” He lifted my dress planted wet kisses on my inner thighs, getting closer to my sweet spot. “You’re so fucking wet”.
“They will know we’re gone” I nervously whispered. He looked into my eyes and stopped, his hot breath making me squirm. “That isn’t a no.” He stood his ground.
And I’m not saying “do it anyway”, but we both know he is going to.
I didn’t even have a chance to think about the cons, his tongue was already doing its job.My legs were closing due to the pleasure, but his strong arms kept them wide open while he drew circles with his thumbs.
“Charles…” he hummed in response, sending me shivers all the way up. He kept licking my folds and as I looked down, he had his shiny green eyes looking at me. A hint of darkness in them that made me moan just at sight.
His head between my legs was surely what heaven looked like.
I curved my back and my hand gripping his hair so he could get closer. He groaned and sucked even harder.
“Fuck, you’re such a good boy, I missed this.” His hand moved quickly into me, curling his two fingers finding my g spot. “Fuck, Charles!” I screamed his name while cumming all over him, his tongue taking all off of me, as he rose without slowly moving his fingers again. My hips rocking back and forth as he arose, keeping his hand busy. “Too bad that pretty mouth of yours can’t do much right now. I really would love to feel it sucking my dick.” I hummed imagining it and getting even closer to my second climax.
“I'll take care of you, just so my princess can remember who she belongs with.” His lips were on my neck, whispering sweet nothing between kisses and soft biting. My moans filled the whole room along with the sound of his fingers working on her center.
Charles, Charles, Charles…
Each time his name left your mouth his cock got even harder, to the point where it hurt. In a short motion his pants down and without any warning he thrusted into you. You both let out a pornographic scream. If the music wasn’t loud everyone would have heard you two. The sound of your slaps were evident, heat rising, the feeling of his beard in your neck was all too much. Curses along with moans were the only thing louder. He did a final thrust and immediately pulled out, jerking off and finishing in his hand.
“You just washed your hands.” I joked breathlessly, he messed up with my head real bad. “Couldn’t resist” he smiled, gave me a peck and disappeared into the bathroom. I melted on that spot.
“Come on mon coeur.” What I loved about Charles was that he always cared. we got into the bathroom and I washed my hands, in the reflection of the mirror his eyes were already in mine.
“What?” I asked as the blood rushed into my cheeks. “Nothing.” He gently smiled, and his eyes shined to me in a different shade of green.
-
Taglist
@delicatepeanutsublime @ironspdy @architect-2015 @buendiabebeta @dreamergirlatpaddock @lercvlie
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godspeedviper · 5 months
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How the therapists react to your "worst" symptoms - Headcanons
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SFW || TW: mentions of self harm, mention of suicidal ideation, therapy sessions, very brief mention of (unlabeled) disordered eating, mention of psychosis & violent thoughts.
A/N: this was written by someone who has been in therapy for many years and has personal experience with these types of symptoms. this is not meant to romanticize any mental illness or symptoms of it. this is purely self indulgent fluff. just because your experience might be different doesn't make these experiences any less valid. if you don't like this simply do not read it, block if you must, and move on.
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Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)
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He is the most objective and detached of the lot. Therefore he never seems to have much of a reaction no matter what you do or say to him. He really has seen it all before. This does help you feel less anxious as time goes on, knowing he won't ever judge you or ascribe any kind of morality to your actions.
"If it causes you distress or harm, then we should work towards eliminating it altogether." is his typical response to your concerns about your own coping mechanisms. "You do not owe anyone kindness, just remember to restrain yourself from causing harm whenever possible."
He is the only one to have no discernible reaction to your self harm scars/burns. One day, he noticed an especially fresh one and offered to disinfect and bandage the wound for you. He always gives you space to bring things up at your own pace, when you feel comfortable doing so.
"Not all of us have the capacity to be so gentle, and that's alright." he says about your outbursts. "I'm not known for being the warmest, but that doesn't make me any less skilled at my work, or any less worthy of respect. If you do not hold my lack of socially acceptable agreeableness against me, then you should not hold it against yourself."
Bonus: when you finally have the courage to mention the substance usage he remains as cool and detached as ever. "I am glad you were honest with me so we can monitor for any interactions with your medications. Know that I won't judge you for moderate usage, after all, do we not professionally refer to medications as drugs? It isn't ideal, but it is a way of self medicating. All I ask is that you be fully honest with me about your usage so I can better take care of you."
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Hannibal Lecter (NBC)
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He is surprisingly gentle and very soft spoken, although you were intimidated by him at first and the opulence of his office. He usually greets you with a warm smile and asks how your week went and if you've eaten yet today. He teaches you to enjoy food again, describing it as an art, and asking you to be mindful and present when enjoying a meal. Listen to your body, what it tells you about the ingredients, the quality of the meal, and the hands that made it.
He always asks you what you want to do, making sure to actively include you in your own treatment plan. He thoroughly explains treatment options, medications and their possible side effects, and has you weigh your options. This allows you to really analyze your own reactions and act accordingly when you are alone.
"Now, you do understand I am required to recommend inpatient treatment if you are feeling actively suicidal." he says, when you come in on an extra bad day. "However, I want to trust you and give you the option of what to do from here. If you think it will do you more harm than good, let me know, but you have to be honest."
One day you get the courage to ask why there is a first aid kit on his desk, though you already assume why. He simply looks at you and asks "Do you need it today?" before gently tending to your recent self harm wounds. He never calls you out for it, but he does periodically ask you upfront if you've been engaging in self injurious behaviors. If you respond yes, he asks to tend to your wounds, and if you say no, he celebrates with you. "Good. I'm proud of you for holding yourself back."
Bonus: when you land in the hospital, Hannibal makes sure to go visit you while your therapy slot is on hold. He never calls attention to the circumstances that lead you here, and focuses solely on your recovery and how he can't wait to have you back in the office soon.
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Harleen Quinzel (Harley Quinn)
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It doesn't take long for her to shed her professional demeanor. She makes you feel like you're talking to a close friend, yet manages to never fully lose the "doctor" in her. She offers you fidget toys as a way to ease the tension of talking about such vulnerable and heavy subjects.
She makes everything into a little game or a challenge to motivate you changing habits. Every time you manage to avoid indulging in negative coping mechanisms, she rewards you with a little heart shaped chocolate at the end of the session. On bad days, she simply encourages you to try again and she gifts you a cute bandaid at the end of the session to signify your healing from a bad day (sometimes, the bandaids come in handy for self harm wounds).
"Being childish can be a good thing!" she tells you. "Its important to have a little whimsy in your life. Just because you grew up doesn't mean you have to... ya know, grow up." She encourages you to try and add a little joy to your daily life. You start taking fuzzy tipped pens to work and keeping plushies at home for comfort. Surprisingly, it does help.
Every now and again she asks for your advice or assistance on minor things, such as which dress she should wear for a date, or what show to watch next. Sure, you are technically paying for her time, but this fact alone doesn't entirely relieve you of the feeling that you are burdensome. Whenever that feeling creeps back up, she reminds you of all the times you helped her make decisions until you admit your usefulness with a smile.
Bonus: "Hearing voices or other noises doesn't make you evil." is her reply when she learns of your psychotic symptoms. "Everyone is susceptible to experiencing psychosis. Hell, I've felt it when I was losing sleep in med school. It doesn't make you a bad person."
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Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs)
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You are intimidated by him at first, but his hypnotic voice grows on you. He always sounds so self assured, but never assertive. He has an almost paternal quality to him, making you feel simultaneously comfortable and protected.
He always listens to you intently, you never feel ignored by him. Hannibal is the only one that makes you feel seen and you tell him as much. "Oh everyone sees you my dear, you can be assured of that, but not everyone has the courage to acknowledge you. Keep this in mind for the next time you should feel the urge to do something drastic for attention."
You were worried you would eventually do something to turn him away, as you had to so many therapists before him. However, he simply scoffs at the idea that you could ever do anything that could possibly frighten him or upset him.
When you finally have the courage to tell him about the violent intrusive thoughts he remains as calm as ever. "In the past, we humans had to hunt to survive. We also had to protect ourselves and our kin. As time goes on, that propensity for violence remains, even if our survival is no longer dependent on it."
Bonus: You come clean to him about getting into a fight with someone, being entirely overtaken by rage and paranoia. You call yourself a monster and cry. "I have worked with serial killers, family annihilators, rapists the worst that the world has to offer. I know monsters. You are not one. You wanna know why?" You nod yes. "Because my dear, you have remorse and regret for your actions, they do not. Besides, you would not be sitting here with me if you did not want the anger to control you."
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AO3 || Guidelines || Request || Ko-Fi
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fell-contract · 2 months
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Received a letter from my mom over the weekend that essentially doubled down on victimizing herself and guilting me for having boundaries. For context, this is a woman who still won't refer to my partner of seven years as anyone other than my friend and who has put the responsibility on me to continue my relationship with her if we get married because she won't attend the wedding. A year ago I would have given in and perpetuated this dynamic out of fear. My mom was my best friend for most of my life, even after I came out and my parents enrolled me in conversion therapy I still thought she somehow had my best interests at heart. It's only been in the last several years I've realized how much she made my identity about her, like it was something I was inflicting upon my parents.
All this to say, I stood my ground and reached back out today to re-affirm what I needed if we were to have a relationship. I'm proud of how I articulated myself and for the first time since I was fifteen I don't feel like I have more to say. It may sound ridiculous, but I feel an immense gratitude for the friends and support I've had here since I returned to this platform in 2022. I've never had a community like the one here even during college when I was chronically online, and I genuinely don't think I would have had to courage to stand up for myself if I didn't feel a part of this community behind me. My journey has been difficult but pales in comparison to what many gay men or queer people in general experience. Unfortunately it's almost expected in how commonplace it is. All we can do is hold onto each other and try to keep moving forward.
So I guess what I'm saying is thank you. For showing me I can believe in myself and that I'm someone who deserves to stay.
Jonathan
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sweetestcaptainhughes · 2 months
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What are you trying to say? - Trevor Zegras
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Word Count - 3600
Author's Note - I 100 percent projected my own dysleixia hardcore into this. This was 100 percent written for the dyslexic girlies and learning disability girlies only. Also not me accidentally maybe becoming a Trevor girlie after writing this oh no. This one is by far my favorite segment.
Warnings - light angst but like it ends happy shocking for this page, who am I becoming???
Summary - In the talking stage with Trevor Zegras you're not sure how his joking personality will respond to your struggles that you have with being an adult with dyslexia, especially since it doesn't affect you how media expects it to.
Let me love you masterlist main masterlist
This isn’t something new to you, you’ve struggled your entire life with the fact that you're dyslexic. It’s a lot more complicated than people may recognize. Many people assume that it only comes up when you're trying to read something like a textbook or an article, and that when you’re finished with school it won’t really affect your daily life anymore but that’s far from the truth. In truth, being an adult with dyslexia affects you in little ways daily. From having difficulty knowing your left and right when given verbal directions, your spelling being terrible when texting others, mispronouncing certain words and being easily embarrassed when it gets pointed out, or worse sometimes the word is literally on the tip of your tongue you can even physically see in your brain but your mouth can’t form the proper sounds, how certain fonts you struggle to read vs others, or that black ink on white paper is the bane of your existence.  Although all of these are “little” things, it does impact the way you communicate with others. It does feel extremely frustrating sometimes feeling like people think that you're using your dyslexia as an “excuse” when in reality your brain is wired completely differently because of it. 
Since you first met Trevor and started talking to him, you had that fear you always do in the pit of your stomach, will he pick on you the first time that he truly can’t understand a text or the first time he hears you mispronounce a word despite years of speech therapy where you tried to but still you can’t pronounce correctly. Although, part of you knew that your fear was extremely irrational, part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that was until proven otherwise the jokester in Trevor would make a joke about something you truly couldn’t control. 
That is until today, when it happened it’s one of those rare days when you were driving and Trevor was in the passenger seat. His car was in the shop, and he needed a ride back from the arena to his apartment. Originally he was going to take an Uber but since you both already had plans after the morning skate you insisted on picking him up. 
“It’s easiest if you take this right up here to get back to my place.” He directs you without looking up from his phone,you tell him okay, turn on your left turn signal and get in the left lane. Trevor finally looks up from his phone while you're waiting at the red light for it to turn green to see you're in the wrong lane. 
“Sweetie?” asking in a questioning tone
“Hmmm” 
“This is the left lane. I told you to take a right.” Trevor says in a concerning tone as to how you were five traffic lanes away from where you needed to be. 
“sorry I thought you said ‘left’. I can make a u-turn?” Deciding in the moment you didn’t want to admit that you heard him correctly but processed the direction wrong, you offered as the traffic light finally turned green. 
“It’s alright we can just take the long way. Don’t worry about a u-turn.”  Not seeming to care at all that it will add an extra 10 minutes to the drive due to the mistake. 
As you continued driving you ended up making another wrong turn, Trevor put his left hand on your thigh and subconsiously rubbed small circles into skin to comfort your growing anxiety, he could feel this odd tension that was built up in the car. “Can you point please?” your voice barely over a whisper as you felt extremely embarrassed all of a sudden and started feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. 
“Yeah Y/N/N I can do that, we could also switch places. I can drive you the rest of the way if you need it if you're feeling anxious all of a sudden.” Trevor was being really sweet, trying to fix the problem at hand thinking it was just some anxious thoughts and not your brain processing audible information incorrectly. 
“No, pointing is good.” Forcing yourself to look straight ahead because you don’t want to accidentally catch his eyes as he looks at you with a worried look. He squeezes your thigh in a comforting way and drops the topic. The rest of the ride felt quick as he pointed and said the direction you needed to go until you reached his apartment. Finding a parking spot in the garage you parked your car, as soon as you felt your foot on the brake, and your right hand pulled the gear in park, you leaned back automatically and sighed grateful you were done driving. Trevor still had his hand on your thigh, he turned his neck so that his head was also resting on the headrest. 
Trevor patiently waited until you opened your eyes, turning to him with a soft smile. “You ready?” you ask him, as you start to unbuckle your seatbelt. As you grab your purse from the back, your hand on the door handle. His hand that was on your thigh is gone and immediately pulls you by the wrist back into your seat. As he takes his other hand and gently places it on your cheek forcing you to look at him. 
“Can we talk about it?” His voice was steady, calm, confident but soft, almost as if he was scared of your reaction. 
Smiling a little wider now, in a split second you try to decide what you want to do. Do you want to tell a boy who you’ve only been casually talking to and hanging out with a handful of times - one of them being this current moment - about being dyslexic. Although it’s not that big of a deal in retrospect, it’s something that you can never take back once you said the words. Even though it’s something so simple and common no one ever looks at you the same again. Were you ready to tell Trevor, and see his face change permanently or did you want to live in ignorant bliss for a little longer. 
“I’m fine, it’s just when I drive somewhere new I like listening to the GPS and not a person telling me directions, it helps me focus better is all.” sheepishly you admit. 
Ignorant Bliss. That’s the choice you made. 
“Okay well next time, can you tell me that so I don’t have to watch you stress yourself out please?” His hand that was on your wrist, going down to your hand playing with your hand. Taking your hand that he was playing with, fully grasping his you squeeze his hand as a silent yes, and nod your head. He leans over the middle console and quickly peaks your lips as if it was a last minute impulse and he meant the cheek. “Thank you, let's go inside.” 
—-------------------------------
Living in ignorant bliss was great for a few weeks, until you started to actually like Trevor. Talking to a guy for a few months and it not going anywhere vs meeting someone and potentially seeing at least an exclusive relationship with them were two very different things. Knowing that you saw a relationship with him in the future meant it was only a matter of time before he found out that your dyslexic which again isn’t that big of a deal, but the fact that you also lied to him a few weeks ago. Not telling him is one thing, but lying when he asked why you were struggling to drive that day is a completely different act. 
Trying to put off the inevitable you tried to push the thought to the back of your mind. Somehow convincing yourself that if you didn’t think about it, then the problem would disappear he would never find out. I mean when you didn’t know how to spell a word while texting, you just spoke it into your phone. As far as grammar no one really had perfect grammar when texting including Trevor to be perfectly honest he probably didn’t even notice half the time. Plenty of people kept all their devices in dark mode for plenty of reasons, he had no reason to ask, although you did it because it helped your eyes stay focused on the words in front of you, not for the aesthetic. 
Even so, with all of these excuses as to why he wouldn’t notice you failed to remember that certain words you truly can’t pronounce the correct way no matter how hard you try. It all came crashing down tonight when you were at Trevor’s apartment cooking dinner for the both of you. Dinner was almost done at this point, when Trevor came behind you just now re-entering the kitchen after taking an expected call from his little sister. Trevor wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on top of your shoulder. 
“Everything okay?” you ask your curiosity getting the best of you, even though you know it’s none of your business. 
“Yeah she’s fine.” Pressing a kiss into where your jawline and neck meet. “smells good.” He compliments your cooking as he teases you one more time with a small nip with his teeth where he just kissed you, before pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder. 
Answering shyly, you let out a “thank you.”
“Anything I can help with?” asking genuinely although you're not sure if it’s to be kind or if it’s because he’s hungry but either way you’ll take it. As he slowly unwraps himself from you, getting ready to help you in any way you need. 
Without looking up from the chicken that you're grilling on the stove, trying to concentrate on the task at hand you answer him. “Yeah actually can you grab out the mellk from the fridge for the mashed potatoes.” Not even thinking twice about what you just said until you heard a chuckle coming from across the kitchen. 
“What babe?” standing in front of a now open fridge, he could have sworn you tried to say milk but botched the word so badly, it couldn’t have possibly been.
“the mellk” finally noticing what you asked for, knowing this is one of the words people can’t help but point out how you butcher it. 
“What are you trying to say?” he asked, truly confused now that he heard it twice. 
“M - il - k “ you repeat slowing down your mouth trying to force yourself to pronounce it properly but also not speak too slowly. Hoping that it's noticeable as you force your tongue to the roof of your mouth to make the “il” sound.  
A small chuckle leaves Trevor’s lips but it wasn’t a malicious way, it was as if he chuckled because he found it adorable. “Here's the milk baby.” walking back over to you and placing it on the empty counter space next to the bowl of steaming hot cooked potatoes. Taking the chicken off the hot burner you moved to the island to where the potatoes were. 
“Sorry” you mumble as he stands beside you, his hip resting on the side of the island. 
“For what?” His eyebrows frowned, his eyes focused the side of your face the only thing he could see. Focusing on the task at hand, you used the potato masher and mashed the potatoes. Opening the milk and adding a little along with some butter that you set out earlier. 
Feeling the rise of some anxiety in your stomach, hoping that you could procrastinate just a little longer on admitting that you didn’t tell him the whole truth. Deciding if now was the time or if you were gonna dig yourself in a bigger hole by wrapping yourself in a thicker web of tiny white lies. 
Finally turning your head to the side to face him and taking a deep breath. 
For good measure making one more deep breath before you barely utter the words, your nerves getting the better of you. “I lied.” 
Trevor’s face immediately changed from confusion and concern. In an instant it became shocking and almost hurt, that the girl he thought was actually going somewhere a month in, is admitting to lying to him. Not when he told her in the beginning that lying wasn’t something he tolerated after his ex lied to him for months and manipulated him. Not when he just told his little sister not even ten minutes ago on the phone that tonight he was gonna ask you to be his official girlfriend. “What are you talking about?” his voice cracking before he could even get the word out, quickly clearing his throat to cover up his own insecurities about the possible tension that could slowly be felt brewing in his kitchen. 
“Remember a few weeks, when I was driving you to your apartment from the stad-” 
“What the FUCK does that have to do with lying to me? When did you lie to me Y/N” Not only has Trevor never once raised his voice at you in a not joking way, but he’s never cursed at you, and his tone made you close your eyes and flinch at the impact. Immediately, seeing you flinch he sighed his hand going to lightly crease her arm closest to him. “When did you lie?” asking at a much softer tone than moments before. 
“I’m trying to explain.” Trevor could have sworn he felt his chest hurt when he heard you struggling to speak, as if you were trying to get yourself not to cry. “Please let me explain.” 
“Okay” he softly let out, as he squeezed your arm not sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself as he felt the possibility of you slipping through his fingers. 
“A few weeks ago when I drove you home.” finally turning her body fully turning to face him. “I lied, When you asked me what happened. I told you I need the GPS because I get overwhelmed.” Pausing to make sure that Trevor was following along, he nodded along, “I lied, sort of,” your voice picking up in speed with each word you uttered out  “I mean I do get overwhelmed while driving but it’s not because of that it’s not that I” 
“Baby please take a breath you're scaring me” His other arm is going to cup your cheek, even though he was mad before as he heard you fixated on driving him home a few weeks ago. He knew it couldn’t have possibly been any of the terrible ideas that popped into his head, at least Trevor hoped not.
 “I sometimes get my left and right confused.” Looking up trying to gauge his reaction, watching as one of his eyebrows go down, as if to say ‘that’s all.’ 
“Okay. So that was the lie? Everyone gets confused sometimes and makes mistakes baby it’s okay” His famous smile slowly takes over his face. 
“That’s the thing is it isn’t sometimes, it’s kind of a lot when I’m driving when someone is giving me directions without pointing, and there are other things too. I mean they're small but they still affect me almost daily and I just.” 
Deciding to take a breath because if you don’t you will be more likely to trip up your words or stutter. “I’m dyslexic and it’s not really how they describe the movies.” 
His smile dropped a little and you swear it felt as if your heart felt as if it had just dropped a hundred flights down the Empire State building. “Dyslexic. Like you mix up letters when reading?”
“Yeah but it’s more than that.”
“Okay. But why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Why did you say it’s because you get overwhelmed.” 
“Because I do get overwhelmed when I make dumb mistakes like that. Plus, everytime I tell someone they never look at me the same. A lot of times they are shocked, and they also sometimes judge me because how does it not affect me the way the media portrays it? Why do I mispronounce words, why can’t I tell my left and right when someone gives me a direction, why I can’t read maps to save my fucking life but yet if I don’t have my GPS running I’m bound to a wrong turn, why does sometimes my mind decide I either can’t come up with a word at all or I can physically see it but I can’t say it and I can’t spell it because I’m such a bad speller.” 
“Shhh” not trying to cut you off but also trying to get you to breathe. “So you didn’t tell me cause you were scared I would look at you differently? Or judge you when something you can’t control comes out at random times of the day? That’s why you told me to point instead of just saying it because you didn’t wanna tell me in fear?” Not sure his tone is showing remorse for you thinking that at all or hurting that you ever would think of him in that way. 
“Yeah.” you embarrassingly admit.
Trevor spent the rest of the night listening to you and how your brain was different due to your own personal experience with being a dyslexic. The next morning you found him reading an article about the effects of different lighting and how dark mode was the best for dyslexics and certain fonts were better than others. It made you chuckle as you told him you knew and that’s why your phone was permanently in dark mode.  That day, he changed all the settings on his tv’s in his entire apartment for dark mode, even all of his own personal devices. Finding it adorable that he went on a tangent when he found out certain apps don’t support dark mode and how he said it was discriminating. Finding it harder and harder for yourself to hide your soft smile as you watched him continue his rant, your heart swelling at how passionate he sounded. 
“I really like you, you know.” you admitted when he finally stopped complaining about how Mirosoft finally started supporting dark mode it was still ‘white paper’ on black ink so they really missed the whole point. 
“Oh yeah.” as he grabs you, pulling you towards him on the couch, tangling your legs with his. 
“Yup” popping the p for emphasis.
“I really like you too. Actually I was gonna ask you.. Wanna make this official and let me call you mine.” The blush was obvious on your face, immediately turning a light red shade, nodding your head he pulled you into a soft kiss. 
—---------------------------------------------
A few weeks later you were out to dinner with a few close friends and Trevor. Currently trying to tell a story about one of your new coworkers and how you didn’t like him but mid sentence you froze. Trevor had yet to see you freeze because the word you planned to say completely escaped you. Of course this wasn’t new to your friends as they saw the familiar signs, the way in which you paused, your lips pursed in a questioning way, your hand coming up and shaking knowing it was on the tip of your tongue and you just couldn’t think of it or couldn’t pronounce it. 
What your friends weren’t used to was seeing Trevor respond to it. His response to you struggling made all of them share a glance in approval of his small action. He took your shaking hand and slipped it into his own. Immediately your small flustered expression on your face turns to him. Your friends couldn’t hear what you were saying between yourselves if you were even talking at all, but they could see the care in Trevors eyes and how your frustration seemed to melt away.
“Hi” he whispers only for you to hear after a couple seconds pass. 
A smile breaks out on your face. “Hi” 
“What are you trying to say?” repeating the same sentence that he asked you weeks ago when you asked him to get the milk out the fridge. 
“I can’t think of it.” a sigh leaving your lips. 
“Describe it.” His forehead resting on yours as you look into his eyes. 
“You know, like a red flag.” 
“Like in dating? So a slang term?” 
“I think.” Pausing for a few seconds for your brian to catch up. “But I know it’s not called a red flag, but it’s like it, I think, like when someone does something and immediately you're like ew.” 
“An ick?” he softly suggests. Immediately your mouth forms into an o-shape in shock, making his mouth twitch into the slightest smile. Kissing his check quickly and whispering a quick ‘thanks’ and turning back to your friends. 
“Okay so like this new dude thinks he can come in and just boss all me and my other co-workers around. That’s not even the worst part like not only is he lowkey sexist, he literally only wears highwaters, immediate ick…” Trevor sat there half listening to your story with a huge smile on his face, hand on your thigh drawing patterns subconsciously as he sipped on his drink. He loves listening to you talk, how you get lost in telling stories and he’s happy he was able to help you instead of you pushing it to the side like you did all those months ago. 
That’s how it is from that night on, anytime you text him and he can’t understand it, or you can’t think of a word, or butcher the pronunciation; he will simply turn to you and ask “What are you trying to say?” 
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lovebvni · 3 months
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The Star — An introduction to my Group Waiting Room
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Finally, after months ( maybe even a YEAR ) of promising to make this blog, I am beginning it. I really wanted to make this blog a while ago to introduce this wr to so many people, but I haven't (OBVIOUSLY) but now, its here!
Let me start off with this, this waiting room is a waiting room anyone and everything who is a reality shifter has access to. Yes, there are personal invitations, but everyone has access. All you have to say is "I am going to shift to The Star." and you'll be there. The universe knows what you mean, and they wont wrong you and shift u to a literal star (unless that is what you want, obviously). But now lets get into what you will see when you get there
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When first entering The Star for the very first time, you will be in a waiting room with "Welcome! Everything is fine." written in green paint on the wall. This is a reference to one of my favorite shows, The Good Place. Yes, I realize how ominous this may look or sound, but if you know me, I love being a bit creepy sometimes. The door to the left will lead you farther into the waiting room, the door to the right will lead you to a personal makeup/dress up room.
When going right, you will have the ability to change your appearance just like a video game character. You can change your height, weight, skin tone, whatever you want! Your desired body is yours to choose. This room is also fully customizable. For example, mine looks like the glitterizer from Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse (iykyk). I would always suggest going to your personal dress up room before anything else. But if you decide not to, there will be plenty more opportunities for you to change how you look and what you are wearing.
The next place you will enter is a long hallway, and ther will be almost a 'check in' when you get there. At the check in, there will be two dogs -- a yorkie and a chiwawa mix. These are my cr dogs that I love very much. They will give you a ticket and a pamphlet on where to go/the layout of the waiting room. In that card, there will also be a personal message to you from your spirit guides! Everyone has at least one, and they may be long, they may be short, but they will be for YOU and YOU only (unless you want to share with others, of course.)
After this, you have the ability to walk into the common area, which is just full of chairs and places to chat. There are many other things you can do here, but I will list the other rooms below.
a power testing arena -- simply a place you can test a power you want to have/do have and see how powerful it is. you can also train with other people/npcs :p
Deity worship/work area -- there is a hallway where every deity (from a to z) have a room that is just there's. you have the ability to go in and worship or speak with them there. they are not always active there, as they probs have other shit to do, but you can always leave a message and they can request your presence :D
Wild Shift/Teleport -- you will be sent to a random place in the universe that will entertain you. It may not be a dr you made, but it is always open to you to be there. You have the right to shift out any time if you do not like it (obviously)
A POOL ROOM -- ok i love pools, so obviously i scripted multiple pool rooms there. they are so pretty, and i have just been told some mermaids hang out there in their free time
multiple cafes/places to eat -- self explanatory. any food in the universe is accessible to you. these cafes/restaurants are run by helpers, lumas from Mario cart and Chaos from Sonic. They are so cute and sweet, they can also duplicate when needed.
MALLS !! -- idk man i love shopping and trying on clothes w my friends, stfu
Media areas -- there are two main media areas, a library and a theatre (both traditional and digital, also can be for multiple people or one person)
Therapy/talk with your guides/ a multidimensional therapist-- to do this, we connected with a reality where reality shifting is normalized, and there are therapist who work interdimensional. they are always willing to help. all meetings are confidential and will not be spoke about with any being
two 18+ areas -- i only call them 18+ because thats whats socially acceptable here. there is a topic area and an actual... yk.. LMFAOO
Those are all the like, public spaces! Now onto the ports.
A port is similar to an airport, which is why you got a ticket when entering. The ticket will have your port number and how to get there inscribed on it. I personally get to mine via an elevator. When entering your port, will be greeted with a personal waiting room -- one you can only access on your own unless you open it to other people. Just like with everything in this wr, you can change everything with intention and/or visualization.
The ports are usually two floors, these floors have secret hidden doors on the walls to your waiting room. On either side of the door, there will be a script to that dr that you have made -- either physically in a reality you came from or from your intention/imagination. On top of the doors, the place you will be shifting too will be written.
For example, if I am shifting to Alice in Wonderland, my script will be on the right (which you can grab and hold or just scroll through) and Alice in Wonderland will be written on top. The door will open when I step close, and I will be shown the exact moment I am shifting to.
In your DR port, anything is possible. You can manifest, enter the void, script, change the port appearance, whatever you want! Lumas and Chaos will also be at your service here :)
And, that's pretty much all I have for these wrs! I guess another thing I would say is you can shift to group drs/wrs from here but that is kinda self explanatory if you ask me.
I hope you all like this, and I am really excited to meet you guys there!!
Love and excitement
the abyss
(if u saw this already no u didn’t. tumblr was being weird LMFAO)
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crowleysgirl56 · 1 month
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The vast majority of people who work on a show are paid upfront for their labour
They don't get paid dependent on how successful a show is
They also don't do work that doesn't get paid- if they are working on a show that gets cancelled, they get paid for the work they did
All this 'stream GO for the hard workers behind the scenes' is bullshit
They work for companies are will be put on different projects
Just be honest that you want more GO (despite the message that it sends to studios- that audiences are ok with abusers! Just turn a blind eye to them! Yes that gives them more power but who cares because people will watch and make them money!)
Don't pretend your doing this for moral reasons
(And acting like you're doing this for Terry- for all we know he might want his work with an abuser completely destroyed- it's stupid to assume he'd want the series to be continued)
Like say this shit with your chest, you know?
Oh boy, ok. Gonna take a minute to answer this.
Firstly, I and a lot of the fandom, are heartbroken over what NG has done. Because we were duped into thinking he was a decent person. From the things that he wrote to the things that he said we thought that he was good person. And it is horrible that there are people out there suffering because yet another rich powerful white man decided he had the right to take advantage of them.
You seem rather angry and if that anger stems because you have experienced something similar yourself then I hope you have love and support around you so that you can heel.
If you want to talk about money, let me remind you that NG has already been paid for season 3. He will continue to get royalties, and thanks to the writers strike last year, he will now get more money for those royalties than before. If S3 doesn’t go ahead then hundreds of people will lose their jobs. Will they get other jobs? Sure, maybe. But any loss of job in this current economic climate is terrible and stressful (and I’m not talking about DT or MS here. They’ll get more work).
I don’t know if you understand how hyper fixation in neurodiversity works, but this is extremely painful for some people and takes a lot of time and energy and therapy to get over when a hyper fixation is threatened or taken away. Some people, like myself, need closure for things otherwise we can find it extremely difficult to move on emotionally. This obviously does not compare to someone trying to survive after SA, but emotional diversity can be extremely debilitating as well. They are apples and oranges to compare, but you can’t invalidate one person’s pain because you think another person’s pain is worth more.
As for the show itself, there is so little queer representation in media. There is a lot more nowadays compared to a decade ago, or even 5 years ago, but the little representation we have is so extremely important. Do you know how many people have found a truth to themselves thanks to GO? How many people discovered something about themselves that finally gives them answer to how they feel? How at the age of 40 I finally realised that I’m asexual and NOT BROKEN. That’s fucking important.
And this. ALL of this is why everyone, including me, are so fucking angry with NG. Because he has left us emotionally devastated. He has not just physically hurt these women. He has emotionally hurt hundreds of thousands of people. He is a stain.
I have spoken before when this all first happened about how I was angry that my one teeny tiny corner of the internet that made me happy was on fire. I left for a bit. I came back. I want to continue to interact with like minded people who love this fandom. I won’t stop that.
And frankly, and here’s the last I’ll say on this, the world is on fire. It is filled with a lot of fucking awful shit right now. I have suffered a very deep depression of late where some nights after I put the kids to bed I just stare and cry. You don’t know that about me because I don’t say those kinds of things on the internet, because our internet personas are facades. They’re not real. They’re not true life. I’m a real person and I’m aching inside about so many things. And these kinds of messages are just breaking me further. Seriously, when you send stuff like this do you even consider that?! So when I decide to hold onto one of the last bastions of entertainment that brings me joy, I’m not going to be guilted into dropping it because someone involved happens to be a monster. Because let me tell you if we did that every time someone turned out to be horrible, then we would never watch or enjoy anything ever again. EVERYTHING you watch or listen to or enjoy or like or cared about is connected to someone who is horrible or produced by a gigantic evil corporation (Nestle, Disney, Microsoft, Facebook, Google just to name a few). Every. Single. Thing. It’s the clothing you wear, the electronics you buy, the food you eat, the furniture in your house, and ALL the entertainment you consume. So if you gave up everything for some moral stance, then you would literally have nothing left.
Dropping Good Omens does nothing. It sends no message to anyone because the next really fucking awful person is about to produce the next big thing you might happen to love and care about. So what’s the point?
Let me have Good Omens. You don’t like that, then you can block me. That’s what the button is there for. You don’t need to send anonymous hateful messages. And if you want me to “say this shit with my chest” maybe you can send me an ask with the Anonymous off. So I can see your chest too.
I’m turning off anonymous asks now. Considering the only asks I’ve ever received is abusive shit telling me to kill myself or saying David Tennant is a paedophile or just telling me I’m a horrible person for supporting NG (when I’ve already stated before that I don’t anymore).
Sorry for those who’ve managed to get to the end here. Thanks for reading if you have, sorry it was so long. I hope you aren’t receiving the same type of messages. If Anonymous has read this far, I don’t know, maybe think twice before being horrible to random people on the internet?
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thefallennightmare · 7 months
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Just Pretend-Twenty Four
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader
Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.
Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.
Authors Note: Did y'all bring your umbrellas and washcloths? Cause it gets a bit messy in this.
FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.
We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.
🪽🔮
Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @ozwriterchick @waake-meee-up @notingridslurkaccount @niicoleleigh @sammyjoeee @xxrainstorm @dominuslunae @notmaddihealy @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @iknownothingpeople @writethrough @thebadchic @blackveilomens Claudia on Tumblr @tobe-written @blacksoul-27 @loeytuan98 @loverofagoodbeard @comfortcharactercraze @lma1986 @plutonikchaos1 @spicywhenspeaking @lyschko666 @somewhere-diamond @hi-fancy-seeing-you-here @koskeepsake @bngurngheart @shilohrosechicken @emzandthevoid @casangel1986 @qualityvoidcollectorsblog @myownthoughts12 @jilliemiw86 @bellaboo967 @halloweenaesthetic @collapsedglasshouses @iamamatus
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NOAH
“So are you saying there’s a new Bad Omens music video on the horizon?” 
With a trick smile, I adjusted my position in the chair and shrugged to the camera on my computer. “Uh, yeah. I can’t tell you which one but it’ll be out there soon.” 
The group of people who were interviewing me via Zoom cheered until one of them asked the next question. It went like this for a few more minutes and I did my best to pay attention and not reach for my phone. Tonight was important and even with how poised and professional I looked during the interview, my knee was bouncing under my desk with nerves. Everything had been planned down to the last detail, Michael giving me shit for stressing out about nothing. 
“It’s Y/N, you know she’d be fine with just an easel and new paints,” he chuckled while watching me set up Y/N’s studio. 
I paused setting up the plants on a shelf to turn towards him. “I know. But she deserves this; all of this. She needs a place to escape by herself for a little while.” 
“You have to relax,” Michael rested his hands on my shoulders, looking directly into my eyes. “You need to enjoy the new beginnings of your relationship. You and Y/N love each other, that’s what matters. Not how many plants she has.” 
Shaking my head from the earlier memory, I hummed towards the interviewer. “I’m sorry, what was the question?” 
She chuckled. “We’ve seen some growth vocally on this new record from the last. Can you give us a little insight on that?” 
With a nod, I divulged how I recently started working with a vocal coach who helped bring out this side of me that I had always hidden under a veil of self-doubt and insecurities. 
Suddenly my phone buzzed on the desk and I quickly peered down at it, my heart jumping into my throat. 
Angel 🪽: I’m walking out of therapy right now, I’ll be home and ready to go in an hour! 
While the interviewers chatted amongst themselves briefly, I typed out a fast response before taking a long drink of my coffee. 
Me: No rush, angel. We have all night. I should be finishing up this interview soon. 
Another question and another answer. It went on like this for a few minutes until I noticed another text from Y/N. 
Angel 🪽: You already got coffee?🥺 
My heart dropped when I saw that emoji because I could vividly picture her soft lips in a pout just like it. Her bright eyes wide. 
Me: Don’t do that, you know I can’t resist that face you pull.  Jolly brought it from Fika. Astrid made an extra by mistake. We can swing by and get you one.
Thankfully, my hands were just off camera so no one who was watching would be able to see my texting. 
Wait. 
Me: Wait, are you watching? You little sneak.
Deciding to give my attention back to the interview, I finished it within the next thirty minutes and thanked them with a wide smile before clicking out of Zoom. Standing up from the desk in the studio, I read Y/N’s message as I trotted down the stairs toward my bedroom. 
Angel 🪽: Of course, I’m watching. I watch all of your interviews. I also love teasing you. I already stopped by Fika after therapy. I will say that I’m excited about what you have planned for later. 
Veering left instead of right, I stepped inside Y/N’s art studio and stood in the middle of the room, assessing every inch of it to make sure it was absolutely perfect. The memory of earlier today stumbling inside with both arms full of bags that contained a variety of different paint and drawing supplies. The guys merely smirked as they saw me struggling even having a bag hanging from my teeth before I motioned to the outside with my head and mumbled two words. 
Help. Car.
The studio was perfect and spotless when I made sure that everything was where it needed to be. As I headed across the hall into my bedroom to finish getting ready, I sent a text to Y/N; one she responded to almost immediately. 
Me: I can’t wait. I love you.
Angel 🪽: I love you too, mochi. 
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READER
“Oh my god, I’m stuffed. I can’t eat another bite,” I groaned while stepping out of Noah’s car as he held the door open for me. 
“Greek was a good choice, huh?” He chuckled as he walked around the car towards me; a little bell jingling behind him. 
I looped my arm through his and rested my head against his shoulder. “You know I’d never turn down a chance for Greek food.” 
“I never thought I’d be such a fan of it. I’ve always thought it was just gyros. The spinakorprita was good.” 
I stifled my laugh into his bicep. “It’s spanakopita.” 
“Spa-na-ko-pi-ta.” 
Noah sounded out slowly and I kissed his shoulder. “Good job! Pretty soon I’ll have you fluent in Greek and we can visit Greece.” 
He brushed a kiss along my forehead and I peered down at the feline that rubbed his face along Noah’s leg. 
“Are you sure he’s okay on the harness?” I bit my lip. “He can’t slip out of it?” 
“Salem is fine, angel. He loves this thing. You should have seen him running through the grass when I had him a couple of months ago.” 
To reassure me worries, however, Noah picked up Salem to hold him against his chest, our cat purring loudly as I pressed a kiss on his head. 
“Thank you for letting me bring him. I figured it would be good to get him acclimated here in case you have to watch him for me,” I said as we began walking up towards the house. 
“I’ve been wanting to show him the new cat tree I bought him,” Noah smiled. 
When we came to a stop at his front door I untangled myself from him and then reached inside my purse for my camera. 
“Angel,” he started. 
Waving him off, I backed away a few feet and motioned to him to stay there. “Just one picture in front of the house. You look so cute tonight. Plus, I need a picture of my boys.” 
Even with the dim street light but the bright glow of the moon, I saw the red hue cover Noah’s cheeks with my compliment, and eventually, threw up his trademark peace sign with one hand and continued to hold Salem in the other. 
Snapping a few different poses, I pocketed the Polaroids after they printed and skipped back toward Noah, who had opened the front door and allowed me to step inside the quiet house. 
“Where is everyone?” I wondered. 
Noah hung up his keys on the hook next to the front door. “Movies. The local theater is playing the old Japanese version of Godzilla.” 
“You turned that down?” I asked with wide eyes. “You love old Japanese movies.” 
“No place I’d rather be than right here, with you,” he mused while wrapping his arms around me to place a chaste kiss on my lips. 
“How sweet,” I cooed while patting his chest. 
Noah let Salem off the harness so he could explore the house, he immediately found the cat tree and curled up in the top bed part. 
Something was bothering Noah, however, no matter how bright he smiled. I could sense it in the way he kept fidgeting with his hands during dinner to how often he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel on the way back to his house. 
“What’s on your mind?” I questioned while palming his cheek. 
He left a kiss on the inside of my palm. “I want to show you something.” 
“You do?” My heart fluttered. 
Linking our fingers together, Noah led me down the hallway towards his room, but we veered left instead to stop in front of a closed door. With our hands on his chest, I felt the rapid beat of his heart and let out a low laugh. 
“Mochi, your heart is racing,” I said. 
He nodded. “I’ve been working on something the last few months since I’ve moved in trying to make it perfect. I think I’ve annoyed both my roommates and yours.” 
“Chase and Malcolm know about this?” I questioned. 
“Yeah. They sent me some of the products you use, your favorite brands; things like that. I wanted to make sure that you don’t have to worry about lugging things back and forth,” Noah shifted on his feet. 
“Okay, what is it?” I bounced on my heels with excitement. “You’ve already surprised me with the vanity. What do you have hiding behind that door? 
I gasped. “Is it a puppy?! No, wait. That wouldn’t make sense.” 
Noah chuckled while cupping my face to leave a kiss on my forehead. “No puppy. Maybe down the road.” 
“Well, will you show me already? I’m getting antsy!” I patted his chest before messing with his chain between my fingers. 
I still wore my matching set, never taking them off. 
“Close your eyes,” he ordered. 
With a pout, I tried to get out of doing it but instead, Noah covered my vision with his large hand. Feeling his presence behind me, I heard the door click open and he led me inside the room. The hand over my eyes shook so I grazed my fingers over the back of it, letting him know that he didn’t have to be nervous. 
“I want to make sure you love it, angel,” Noah pressed a kiss behind my ear. “OK. Are you ready?” 
“Yes!” I exclaimed. 
Blinking a few times to adjust to the light, a hand went to my mouth as a gasp fell from my lips. It was overwhelming and almost too many different things to take in, I didn’t know where to look first. 
There were four different-sized easels in each corner of the room. 
An angled desk in front of the large window, one that people would use to draw on. 
Three shelves above that desk held various paints, brushes, and charcoals. 
Plants littered almost every inch of space that wasn't overtaken with painting supplies. 
The closet in the room was wide open, showcasing even more stock of supplies and different size canvases. 
The best part? Hardwood floors. 
With tears in my eyes, I slowly turned back to Noah, standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back. 
“So?” 
“I-,” I cleared my throat when the words came out jumbled. “You did this?” 
“Yeah. I wanted to give you your own space here. To come too whenever you wanted, even if I wasn’t home,” he wrung his hands together. 
“Really?” I choked out. “Don’t you think you should maybe check with the guys about having me come over here all the time unannounced?” 
“Angel,” he took a step towards me and grabbed my hands, his thumb brushing mine. “Jesse was the one that suggested I give you a key.” 
My eyes doubled. “A key?” 
Noah now dug into his pocket to pull out a black key, gently setting it in my open palm. “I want you to have a place to come and stay. I’m not asking you to move completely in, but if it's getting a little stuffy in that small apartment with Chase and Malcolm, you and Salem can come to spend the night here.” 
I let out a small chuckle, a few tears falling from my eyes, and then held the key close to my chest. “You gave me all of this but I have nothing in return, Noah.” 
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and mused. “Your love is enough, Y/N.” 
“I love you. Thank you for all of this.” I pressed my head against his chest while wrapping my arms around him. 
“I love you too.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now, welcome to the other part of our first date.” 
I gazed up at him through lashes. “We’re going to paint?” 
“Now, I’m not a professional like you,” he snorted before pulling me over to two easels that were next to each other. “But I thought it would be a cute idea.” 
“I would not call myself a professional.” 
“Still better than me,” Noah said. 
I raised a playful brow while crossing my arms over my chest. “Want to make this interesting?” 
He smirked while resting his hands on my hips. “I’m all ears, angel.” 
“Whoever has the worst painting has to get the winner's birthday tattooed on them.” 
“Oh, it’s a bet,” he sealed it with a kiss. 
Noah pulled out the little stool for me to which I sat with a smile, pulling up the ends of my yellow maxi skirt to sit comfortably. While Noah busied himself with setting up music to play from the Bluetooth speaker, I removed my jacket to set it neatly on the ground at my feet. 
“Do you want an old shirt of mine to change into?” He asked while pointing to my white top. 
I noticed that Noah had shed his gray button-up and was wearing a blank tank top. I licked my lips at the site of his muscles, the tattoos suddenly seeming more fitting now that he had been working out a lot more. 
Remind me to thank Ash. 
Snapping my eyes away from the broadness of his chest, I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, mochi. Thank you though. I don't typically make a mess.” 
“Hm, the paint stains on the dining room carpet say otherwise,” he teased. 
Playfully smacking Noah’s arm, we both got settled as the music filtered into the air and I got lost in my mind, painting whatever my soul called for. We found ourselves in a peaceful quiet, simply enjoying each other's presence. Every so often I would glance over to Noah, making sure that he was enjoying himself only because I knew painting wasn't for everyone. 
He had narrowed eyes of precision as he stroked the brush wave after wave against the canvas. From this angle, I couldn’t see what he was painting. Instead, I leaned over to rummage in my purse, pulled out my Polaroid camera, and snapped a few shots of Noah before one of me, with him in the background. I set the pictures on the desk next to me before getting back to my painting. 
“How’s it going over there?” 
Noah’s soothing voice brought me out of my trance and I glanced over at him with a smile. “Good, I’m almost finished. What about you?” 
“Promise you won't laugh?” 
“Of course, mochi.” 
I made a show of crossing my heart but let out a squeal of laughter when Noah hooked his foot around the foot of the stool and dragged me over towards him. He gave me a quick kiss but still wouldn’t let me see what he painted. 
“I’ve been told I’m a great artist, granted that was in the second grade,” Noah chuckled before finally showing me his canvas and what he spent the last thirty minutes painting. 
I covered my mouth with a hand not to stifle a gasp but instead a laugh. He painted stick figure versions of him, me, and Salem in front of a house; even with the bright yellow sun in the corner of the canvas. 
“Wow,” I nodded. “All I’ll have to say is don’t quit your day job, mochi.” 
Noah scoffed. “Fuck, that was cold. But it's true. There’s a reason why I’m a musician, not a painter. I’ll leave that to you, angel.” 
“I love it!” I beamed while ruffling his hair and laying a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’ll hang it up above my bed.” 
“What did you paint?” He wondered. 
“Oh nothing too important, just some abstract colors. I didn’t really have an actual vision. I kind of let the paint speak to me as I go,” I said. 
When I showed him my painting, Noah’s eyes glinted and he smiled. “I like it. I’ll have to hang this above my bed.” 
“So I think it’s safe to say that I won the bet? And now you have to get my birthday tattooed on you,” I grinned while going about to clean up the paint and brushes. 
When Noah didn’t respond, I glanced over my shoulder to see that he had a very sly smirk playing on his lips and I popped my hip out, resting a hand on it. 
“Noah Sebastian. Did you purposely lose this bet so you could get my birthday tattooed?” 
He hummed along to the song playing on the speaker, still not answering my question but never getting rid of that smirk on his face. His silence, however, was exactly the answer I needed. 
What a cheeky little...
With the dirty paintbrush in my hand, I flicked it over at Noah, the leftover paint spraying over his chest when he turned towards me. His eyes bounced down to the paint splatter over his black tank top to me, a shocked expression on his face. 
“Did you just throw paint on me?” 
I shrugged. “Oops?”
“Really? Oops?” Noah dipped a larger paintbrush into a handful of different colors before throwing it all over my face and neck. 
“NOAH!” I screeched with a boisterous laugh. 
Suddenly, he picked me up to twirl me in the air before tackling me onto the ground then started painting my arms and neck as I found underneath him. 
“I’m sorry!” I giggled while trying to reach for the paintbrush I dropped; fingertips grasping at it. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m busy painting a masterpiece,” Noah responded, painting shapes on my cheek now. 
With my fingers finally grasping the brush, I flicked some paint into his hair, covering it in bright pinks, blues, and yellows. Our peals of laughter overpowered the music still playing in the room and eventually, after we both were covered in pain, I threw up my hands in surrender. 
“OK!” I chuckled breathlessly. “You win. You win.” 
Noah kissed me, smearing the paint over my lips. “Damn straight I do.” 
Somehow in the shuffle of our paint fight, I managed to straddle Noah, who lost his tank top; it was destroyed due to all the paint. So he lay shirtless underneath me and I couldn’t help but bite my lip at the sight of him with his arm propping his head up and his tattoos on full display for only me to devour. 
Reaching up towards my easel, I grabbed a few different paints and clean brushes before settling back on Noah’s hips, getting to work on painting the flowers of his chest piece. 
He hummed at the feeling of the cool brush and let his eyes flutter shut for a long moment, reveling in the feeling of me on top of him. And not in a sexual way but in a way of knowing that I was here and not going anywhere. 
“Am I an adult coloring book for you?” Noah questioned after he took a few Polaroid pictures of me painting him.
“Maybe,” I teased with a glance down at his face. 
His chest was a vibrant picture of greens, reds, and oranges. I was working on painting the headband in the girl's hair when he spoke again. 
“Well don’t stop, I like this form of meditation.”
Once the round frame was painted gold, I adjusted my position so I could sign my name just above the words across his sternum. 
Noah opened one eye and smiled. “I see you signed your work.”
“I did because you’re not it anymore.” I pressed a soft kiss along each letter. 
“I’m not what?” He breathed in pleasure, slightly arching off the ground. 
“You’re no longer desolate,” I promised into his skin then took a couple of Polaroid pictures of my masterpiece. 
Noah let out a soft noise from the back of his throat when his strong hand wrapped around the back of my neck to pull me down to his lips, we met in a fiery, air-bending kiss. Every single fiber of my soul blazed with such passion I melted into his embrace, folding into him as we became one. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip, lapping up the strawberry chapstick I applied in the car earlier, him humming in delight. 
I adjusted myself as I lay flat on Noah, his hands running up and down the skin of my back underneath my shirt. The heat radiated off of him making my insides flare with so much desire that I was practically burning up at his touch. 
“Noah,” I whined when his lips began attacking my neck. 
When he pulled away, his almond eyes gazed up at me with pupils blown wide with lust; pure black over taking his eyes. 
“How about I run you a bath?” His thumb brushed along my bottom lip, voice hoarse from our kiss. 
“I’d like that a lot,” I beamed. 
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NOAH
I sat on the edge of the tub to check the temperature of the water making sure it was perfect before adding the bubbles and bath salts. As it began to fill up, I peered through the open bathroom door to gaze over at Y/N who was sitting at her vanity taking off her makeup. My heart swelled in my chest when I noticed how relaxed she was, as if she was meant to be there; here with me. 
Sitting here in observation, it struck me like a bolt of lightning. I’d been so lost in constructing scenarios for tonight that I was surprised to see how far I’d come. Y/N’s movements were so fluid, so serene as she gently wiped everything off her face and neck. I’d never been so jealous of a makeup towelette before. 
Observing her using the vanity table I fussed over for weeks made my stomach flutter, the ongoing moment of quiet bliss was by far my favorite way to let time tick by.
Waiting here offers me time to let my mind escape the boundaries of the ordinary. From where I sat here in the bathroom, watching her carefully with the faintest of smiles, I knew I wanted this view for the rest of my life. After all the bullshit endured on and off over the years, for both of us, this was what I got to see. 
Watching Y/N was such a gift, a blessing of time. Something I vowed right now that I wouldn’t take for granted.
Shaking off the excess water after checking the temp, I turned off the tub and walked into the bedroom with a light spring in my step. I snuck up behind Y/N and rested my chin on top of her head, watching her smile in the reflection of the mirror. 
“Your bath is ready, angel,” I informed. 
She reached for my left hand to lay a gentle kiss on the floral design. “You mean, our bath is ready.” 
I raised a brow at her when she stood and led me into the bathroom with her. 
“Wait, what?” 
Y/N chuckled at the slight confusion in my voice. “You heard me. You’re covered in paint too, Noah. You need to clean up.” 
I rubbed the back of my neck as we stood together in the bathroom. “I was-uh- going to take a shower once you were finished. I don’t want to pressure you into-.” 
“Stop overthinking this,” she cupped both sides of my face and pressed a kiss to my nose. “I want you to join me if you’re comfortable with it.” 
I may have nodded a little too eagerly but it didn't bother her. 
“I’d love that, angel.” 
While she shed her clothes, I stepped out of my pants and briefs, both of us watching each other with such inferno in our eyes and when we were naked, Y/N reached for my hand. She stepped into the tub first then me, positioning myself behind her. Even though it was a larger tub, it was still a snug fit for the both of us so to make sure she had enough room, I kept my long legs bent; my knees breaking the surface of the water. 
“Oh this is perfect,” Y/N groaned while leaning herself into my chest. 
Reaching for her shampoo, I went to work scrubbing the paint out of her hair, my nails scraping along her scalp. Her fingers traced over the rose tattoo on my knee, delicately following the design. 
“What’s on your mind, angel?” I questioned after rinsing out her hair and then applying the conditioner. 
“You’ve really thought about everything, huh? You have all of my products here so I don’t ever have to bring a bag over?” 
The giggle that erupted from her throat made something twinge inside of me. 
I kissed her shoulder. “I’ve already told you. This is your home just as much as your apartment is. We can bounce back and forth as long as you want.” 
Once she was completely clean of the dried paint, Y/N turned to position herself on my lap to face me. The head of my cock brushed along her folds and I grasped at her hips, trying not to let my hormones push her too far. 
“What are you doing?” I asked. 
She smiled and reached for my shampoo. “You washed me. Let me wash you now.” 
Sighing in content, I sat back against the tub to let Y/N wash my hair. Her fingers worked meticulously in scrubbing out the paint. 
“You know,” she shifted herself on me and I choked on a groan. 
Surely she had to know what she was doing. 
“While I love how you look with this new haircut. I really do miss your long hair.” 
I gazed up at her, tracing the drop of water that trailed down her neck, over the silver chain, and between the valley of her breasts that were just peeking above the bubbles. 
I licked my lips, tongue begging to trace the water in its wake, but refrained. 
“Imagine if you gave yourself bangs. You’d be in your Shelby era,” Y/N chucked while moving my hair in a certain way so I could have bangs. 
I glanced over to the mirror above the sink and smirked at the sight of us in the tub, especially me with bangs. 
“You think so?” I asked. 
“You can pull off any look, mochi.” 
She gently went about washing the paint off my chest with the loofah while I continued to watch her. 
“You’re staring,” her eyes flicked up at me. 
“I love you,” I brushed away the wet strands of hair from her face. 
“I love you too,” Y/N kissed the freckles on my shoulder. 
Once again we found ourselves in our previous position, her back to my chest, and we sat there for some time as the water began to chill. Although neither of us was ready to get out yet. 
“Noah?” 
Snapping my eyes open, I wrapped my arms around her. “Yeah?” 
Y/N shifted a bit in my embrace and with how she was wading her fingers through the water, I knew something heavy was on her mind. 
“Do you think we could listen to Bad Decisions?” 
My body stilled behind her. I knew at some point we would have to talk about the songs I wrote when I was in the dark parts of my life but it still didn't prepare me for the moment it happened. 
“Are you sure?” I asked. 
She turned slightly in my arms to leave an array of kisses on my chest. 
“I know you were in a dark place when you wrote it. It holds bad memories so I’d like to create new memories for this song with you if you want to.” 
“I’d want nothing more, Y/N,” I whispered into her hairline. 
After asking the Alexa device on the bathroom counter to play the song, I let my voice echo in the confines of the room. Y/N eased into my embrace as I linked our fingers together while I sang along with the words in a hushed tone. She hummed along with me as our bodies swayed together in the water. 
“No God. No religion. Just you,” I vowed when the song faded out, cupping her cheek so I could kiss her lips. 
Without missing a beat, Y/N returned the kiss just as slowly as I, our tongues lazily fighting for dominance as her hand snaked behind my neck to play with the wet strands of hair. 
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled against my lips. 
Pulling away, I remained holding her face but furrowed my brows. “What are you apologizing for?”
Her gaze left mine. “I just hate that it took us so long to get here. I know we talked about everything at the party but I still feel the need to apologize for everything.” 
“It’s not all on you, angel. I did some things I wasn’t proud of during our time apart and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it.” 
“Stop, Noah,” Y/N straddled me again to hold my chin with a stern grasp, the water sloshing around us. “You need to stop blaming yourself for what happened. I’ve already told you all is forgiven. Please stop letting that moment of weakness eat away at you.” 
I blinked away the burning tears in my eyes and cleared my throat. “I only want to make better memories with you. I know in the beginning I couldn’t communicate, even now it’s a bit hard for me, especially with everything that happened. It was a mess and I apologize too.” 
Y/N bent low to kiss me; it was slow at first but soon became heavy with passion when her tongue slipped between my lips. Her hips began grinding against my cock revving me up with such force, I wrapped my hand around her neck with my thumb against the pulse point in her neck. 
Breaking free from the kiss, I dragged my teeth along her jawline and then down her neck. 
“Noah,” Y/N breathed. “I love you.” 
Her pussy was now brushing over the head of my cock and every inhibition with me wanted to plunge myself deep inside of her, feel her grip me with that vice grip I’ve missed and longed for.
Something inside of my chest rumbled before I realized it was my voice. 
“How many have you loved before me?” I rasped as my tongue brushed over her nipple. 
Y/N arched herself back so she could fully expose herself to me. “None.” 
With one hand holding her throat, my other slipped between our bodies underneath the now-freezing water to glide over the slit between her legs. I attacked her lips again with a ravenous desire, nibbling on her bottom lip.
“And after me?” I demanded to know, slipping a finger inside of her finally. 
“None,” she moaned while digging her nails into the skin of my shoulders. 
Trembling fingers trace Y/N’s skin. To be in her company is a little slice of heaven as if her aura were an elixir. Emotions swam in our eyes, in our body language, and the inflections of her voice. 
She was the one who I thought of when I needed to restart my heart and rekindle my soul; for so long I kept that to myself. Feeling the intensity of her intelligence, Y/N’s words were my medicine.
Deep inside I couldn’t help but feel like I’ve over-explained my feelings to compensate for what hadn’t been said. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t shake the fear of losing her. She needed to know where I stood, where we belonged. 
Soulmates. 
To be a possessor? I don’t know if you’d call it that. I yearned to be her protector, the one who held her heart in my hands, just as she held mine. These large hands are secured. I would grant her any wish in my power, to be the one who will always love her.
My fingers worked in sync as I pumped them in and out of her. She squirmed in my grasp, and the head of my cock nearly slipped inside of her. Every single part of me was sensitive to her touch and it felt like any moment I would combust underneath her. 
Peering up at her face, I noticed that there was worry pulling tight in her forehead. 
“What’s wrong? Am I hurting you?” I asked briefly, stopping. 
“No, you’re fine,” Y/N reassured me with a kiss on my forehead. “It’s just-.” 
When her words trailed off, I lifted her chin with a knuckle. “Talk to me, angel.” 
Her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “The water is really cold and I was hoping we could move this to the bed.” 
A playful smirk pulled on my lips and just before agreeing, I was struck with a thought. 
“How far do we want to take this?” 
“Noah, I can’t wait anymore. I need this. I need to feel connected to you again,” she rubbed herself against me. 
Shit. 
Even though I was ready for this, something was keeping me from lifting her out of this tub and tossing her on the bed to feel all of her again. The last time we slept together, it ended in disaster and heartbreak. I was stronger than I was back then but I don’t know if I could recover if it were to happen again. 
It won’t. 
It was as if Y/N’s soul could feel the pain in mine because she cupped both sides of my face so I had no choice but to meet her gaze. 
“I’m not going anywhere, Noah. I’m right here. Always.” She reassured me with a firm nod, not an ounce of lies behind her bright eyes. 
I kissed her palm. “I know. Are you sure this is what you want? I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush.”
“You’re not, Noah. I want this. I need this. I need to be connected to you so deeply, that it feels like we’ll never be apart again.” 
Her hand wrapped around my cock, pumping it up and down under the chilled water. By now the bubbles have dissipated and I peered through the clear water to choke on my moan. 
“We won’t,” I promised. 
Y/N’s warm breath fanned over the shell of my ear. “Please, Noah. I need you to fuck me.” 
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READER
I erupted with laughter as Noah dropped my wet body on top of the bed. Resting up on my elbows, I gazed over his naked form as he stood at the foot of the bed. Water traced every bend and groove of his muscles and the tattoos that littered his skin were something that seemed to surprise me each time. 
When my gaze lowered to his cock, a starved moan fell from my lips and I licked them hungrily. 
“Y/N?” 
I hummed while tearing my gaze away from him to look into his eyes. 
“If you feel any pain, please let me know,” he said. 
“I’m okay,” I nodded. “I promise.” 
Noah towered over me as he crawled up the bed, droplets of water falling from his hair onto my chest. His chain hung just above my lips as I looked up at him, spreading my legs when his fingers tickled the inside of my thigh. 
“I want to make love to you tonight, angel. Will you let me?” He asked into the crook of my neck. 
“Please,” I nodded vigorously. 
Once more, Noah’s fingers slipped between my folds to gently tease me, slowly dragging them up and down. I whined in protest and dug my nails into his back, feeling his muscles tense from my touch. When the pad of his calloused finger pressed against my clit, I arched my chest into his, the itch I felt from the moment we were in the tub together finally being scratched. 
My knees buckled when his finger twirled in fast circles and when Noah flicked his tongue over my nipple, before slowly trailing down my stomach. The warm wetness of his tongue flicked over my nub when he replaced his fingers. His lips wrapped around my clit to suck up my arousal. 
“Noah,” I hissed. “So good.” 
I ran my fingers through his hair to bring his mouth closer to me as the coil in my stomach pulled tight. I’d been on edge all night, I knew I wouldn’t last long. And it was like Noah knew or understood because his tongue speared inside of me, in and out, before rubbing against my clit again. 
Stars danced at the edge of my vision, nearly overtaking my gaze when I looked down at Noah between my legs. His face was buried there as if he was meant to be there. I brushed away the hair from his face just for his eyes to meet mine, his tongue darting in and out of me. There was pure darkness in his eyes when his hand ran up my stomach and torso to grasp at the silver chain around my neck. He wrapped it around his fingers, pulling taunt, and I felt the breath leave my lungs briefly. Before I could say anything, Noah loosened the grip but still held onto the chain. 
I raised my hips off the bed to try and get closer to his mouth when his tongue began to slow, fearing that maybe he was getting tired. But I was so close that my body ached with the release it so desperately needed. 
With a tight hold against the back of his head, I tensed my legs and core when he flattened his tongue. Now I rubbed myself against his tongue and my moans echoed throughout the room. I couldn’t even warn him that I was about to cum because my orgasm washed over me without warning. Noah hummed in delight when my arousal coated his lips and chin; it dripped from him and he gathered it up with a finger before sucking it clean himself.
“Fuck,” I panted while running a hand through my hair. “That was-fuck.”
“Watching you cum is addicting, angel,” Noah buzzed with a tender kiss inside of my thigh. 
As my heart rate slowed, I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and let out a deep breath in a way to center myself again. 
“Missionary hurts right?” Noah asked while leaning over me. 
“It depends,” I shrugged. “But if I’m being honest, it’s not my favorite.” 
The smirk that pulled on his lips made me tilt my head at him. However, before I could ask what he had in mind, he swiftly turned me to lay on my stomach and raised my ass in the air. 
“Noah,” I breathed while peering over my shoulder at him. 
Not saying anything, he leaned over towards the nightstand to rummage through it and retrieved a condom. Lust-filled eyes watched as he ripped it open with his teeth and swiftly rolled it over the length of his cock, which was thick and dripping with his arousal. 
“Stay on your knees but if you need to lay your lower half on the bed, do it. I want to make sure you're comfortable,” a gentle kiss in the middle of my back; against the snake tattooed there. 
I positioned a pillow underneath me to give myself some more leverage and comfort while Noah lined his cock up with my entrance. Slowly, much to my dismay, Noah sank himself inside of me inch by inch until he was fully seated inside of me. 
“Shit,” his forehead rested against my shoulder blade. “So tight. I’ve been dreaming of this feeling again, angel.” 
“Me too. Oh fuck.” 
I moaned when Noah pulled himself almost out, pumping just the head of his cock in between my folds. Then with a snap of his hips, his cock stretched me open again and the weight of his body pressed me farther into the pillow. His chest collided with my back every time he thrust into me and his nails dug into my hips to keep himself grounded. For extra measure, I managed to hook my feet around his ankles. 
“I love you,” Noah panted in my ear. 
My smile was buried in the pillow. “I love you too.” 
“Any pain?”
I did my best to shake my head. “Keep going. Please.” 
One hand caressed the grooves of my spine, up and down, while his other wandered around to thrum against my clit again. Noah’s pace was slow but steady, his words from earlier ringing true. 
I want to make love to you. 
I brushed away the hair from my face so I was able to see, noticing our reflection in the large mirror Noah had leaning against the wall next to the closet. A strangled moan crawled out of my throat when I saw the muscles in Noah’s ass clench with every drive into me. I could vividly see his cock every time he pulled out of me, my arousal glistening on the condom, before disappearing inside of me again. 
“I.” 
Thrust. 
“Love.” 
Thrust.
“You.” 
I mewled at Noah’s proclamation in between each of his thrusts. “I love you too, Noah.” 
The slow pace of his cock but the fast pace of his fingers worked in perfect harmony and I felt my second orgasm slowly creeping its way into my veins. The heat spread like wildfire inside of me with such intensity I began to shake underneath Noah. 
“I love you, angel,” he proclaimed again then bit down on the sensitive part of the skin at the back of my neck. 
I was gone, blissed out in sheer ecstasy that my words were muffled against the pillow. That wasn’t good enough for Noah so he turned my cheek so I could face him. 
“I love you too,” I huffed when my orgasm was seconds away from bursting. 
He linked our hands together as he continued to meld with me from behind and I noticed that the hands that were linked were the ones that both had our bracelets. It was almost a good omen, no pun intended, that our souls were always destined to be one. For added measure, I felt the coolness of his necklace brush along the heated skin of my back. 
Noah lightly laughed, almost as if he thought the same, and when his cock twitched inside of me, I realized he was close. I wanted to watch him when he fell apart because of me so I glanced back over to our reflection in the mirror. Then with two fingers pressed against my clit, Noah began rubbing up and down which was exactly what I needed for the coil to snap. To finally teeter over the edge where ecstasy was waiting for me. 
His name fell from my lips in prayer. 
“Fuck, Noah. Oh God, it’s so good,” I cried out through the rest of my orgasm. 
“No God. Just us,” he grunted. 
There was no God; only him and I. 
In the reflection, I watched as his movement stilled, cock throbbing between my walls, and his mouth fell open when he tilted his head back; groaning out his release. Then softly, Noah’s body fell onto mine and he buried his face in my neck. 
“Are you okay?” He wondered. 
“I’m good, mochi. So fucking good,” I lazily smiled but whimpered when he pulled out of me. 
“Let me get you a washcloth,” he left a kiss on my shoulder before slipping into the bathroom. 
I snuggled closer into the pillow on my chest to let my eyes rest for a moment. Exhaustion dug itself so deep within my bones that I didn’t even notice when Noah began cleaning me up with the damp but warm cloth then he draped the blanket over my naked form. 
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed or noticed he left until the bed dipped beside me and I opened one eye to stare up at him. Noah kissed me from between my shoulder blades down my back, his nails grazing beyond the wake of his lips as he traced over the large snake tattoo on my back. 
“This sight is familiar,” Noah spoke quietly. 
I propped my chin on my hand. “But I’m not going anywhere after. I’m not leaving you to deal with my inconsiderate decisions. I’m right here with you, Noah.” 
“I know,” he nodded. “We’re creating new memories now. Righting all of those wrongs. I’ve been excited for both of us to leave the past and move forward.” 
“Me too,” I left a chaste kiss on his chin, feeling the slight stubble tickle my lips. 
Noah tucked a piece of hair behind my ear then began tracing the line of my cheekbone, and jaw, then booped my nose, earning a giggle from me. 
“I brought you some clothes in case you want to get dressed,” he said while handing me a pair of black joggers and a matching shirt. 
I took them with a smile. “I think I should start keeping some clothes here.” 
“Plenty of space in the closet,” Noah threw a thumb over his shoulder. 
My heart fluttered at his words, realizing yet again that Noah was allowing me to occupy parts of his private sanctions. 
“I’ll clear out two of my dresser drawers for your stuff the next time you’re over,” I promised with a kiss on his lips. 
He hummed while grasping the back of my head to keep me there for a second longer. 
“It’s a deal, angel.” 
Slipping out of the bed, I trotted into the bathroom to get dressed while I heard Noah open his bedroom door and rummaging in the kitchen. When I hopped back into his bed, Salem came bounding into the room with the bell on his collar jingling. 
“Hi baby,” I cooed when he jumped up on the bed. “So, what do you think of the cat tree dad bought you? You like it?” 
His response? Curling up on Noah’s pillow with a chirp of approval.
“I’m gone not even five minutes and he steals my spot,” Noah chuckled entering the room again; dressed in nothing but a pair of black Bad Omens joggers and bright yellow socks. 
“Get used to it. You invited him over and now what’s yours is his,” I scratched between Salem’s ears. 
“I’ll gladly share with him,” he said while handing me a plate. 
My eyes lit up as a gasp fell from my lips. “Is that limoncello tiramisù?”
“Yeah, I picked some up from that Italian bakery you love. Carlos’.” 
“Yes!” I exclaimed while quickly digging into the treat. 
As I leaned against the headboard to eat, Noah sat cross-legged in front of me to eat his share, both of us basking in the silence; beside Salem’s purring. 
“Are we a family now?” Noah asked. 
With a bright smile, I leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek. “Yeah. We are.”
I set both of our empty plates on the end table next to Noah’s bed then pulled my knees to my chest. 
“You know what I’d love right now?” I asked. 
Noah winked which caused me to playfully smack his chest. “Not that.” 
“OK, sorry. What would you love?” He chuckled while rubbing his chest. 
“I’d love to listen to The Grey. I’ve been dying to know how you worked in my poem ever since you sent me that video.” 
“Alexa, play The Grey by Bad Omens,” Noah said with a smile. 
“Now playing The Grey by the band Bad Omens.” 
When Noah’s voice finally broke through the music, I let out a small gasp. It was different, new, hearing this voice come from the man in front of me. It made me proud to see how far he’d come from Finding God Before God Finds Me, knowing what his work ethic was like. He was always trying to break down the typical stereotype of what rock should sound like. He wanted to make changes and from this song alone, Noah was doing that. 
Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all. Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough. Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call. Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.” 
My eyes lit up. “Oh, this was from the video!” 
Noah giggled. “Yep.” 
I continued to listen to the song when he linked our hands together, bringing them to his lips to leave a kiss on each of my fingers. 
“I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down, and I'll never be the same. I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.” 
“Noah,” I beamed. “This is amazing. The lyrics, your voice, the beat. Everything about it.” 
A red hue crossed his cheeks as he sheepishly glanced down at his lap where our intertwined hands were. 
“Do you like it?” He gazed up at me through his long lashes. 
Rising to my knees, I now draped my arms around his neck and kissed his forehead, nose, both cheeks and then finally his lips. 
“I love it, Noah. And I love you.” 
He twirled my necklace between two of his fingers. “I love you too, Y/N.” 
For the first time since we rekindled our love, it was then that I noticed the tattoo on the side of his hand. 
K.E.A.T.O.N. 
When Noah realized I was reading the letters, he held up his other hand so I could read the letters on that hand. 
P.I.E.R.C.E. 
“Noah,” I breathed while putting his hands against my chest. 
“I needed to. He needs to know that he can sing his songs through me while he’s gone,” he explained with a lone tear slipping down his cheek. 
“I know.” I kissed his hands. “It’s okay.” 
Glancing over my shoulder, I took notice of the time and frowned. Earlier, Noah mentioned that tomorrow, well technically later today since it was already nearly two in the morning, Bad Omens were shooting the music video for The Death of Peace of Mind and he needed to be up early for it. 
In six hours. 
“I should probably get home,” I sighed. 
Noah’s hold against my hips tightened. “You can stay. I’ll sleep better if you’re next to me.” 
“You need your rest, mochi,” I patted his cheek. “I also have plans with Astrid to help her open up Fika then we’re going shopping right after.” 
Reluctantly with a sigh, Noah agreed and let me go, not before leaving a kiss on my forehead. 
“Salem is staying here tonight though,” he said. 
My jaw dropped as I stood from the bed and placed my hands on my hips. “Excuse me?” 
“Look at him,” Noah pointed to a sleeping Salem. “You can’t wake him.” 
“Fine,” I dragged out the word with narrowed eyes. “Tomorrow night. My place.” 
Noah towered over me when he stood to full length in front of me. “I’ll be there, angel.” 
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NOAH
Stuffing my hands deep into the pocket of my yellow hoodie, I let my black slides drag my feet behind Y/N as we walked closer to her apartment door. The chill midnight air breezed through the loose strands of hair but I was too far gone in my mind to brush it away. Even though we promised to see each other tomorrow, making plans for me to spend the night here tomorrow night, part of me was worried. Afraid that once we parted ways, Y/N would second guess everything that happened and ignore me for months on end. 
Why was I so nervous?
I kept asking myself that as we came to a stop in front of her door. I shook at the thought that what I was doing in all aspects of my life mattered. I felt the need to get it right; especially with Y/N. 
Dr. Poulos once said “Nerves are a signal of truth, of what you value, of what you need and cherish. The constant needs of what I’ve wanted, the comfort and stability I desired. That the idea of not gaining happiness brings on those telltale tremors. Always ask yourself what the nerves are telling you. It’s an important way your body speaks.” 
She wasn’t wrong. I knew in the back of my mind that I was terrified Y/N would never come back. 
What if  I wasn’t good for her?
I desperately needed to fight these demons and not let them win. 
Y/N loves me. She loves me.
“Mochi, you’re shaking.” 
Snapping out of my thoughts, I noticed that Y/N had wrapped her arms around my midsection to pull me closer to her. 
“Oh, I am? Didn’t notice,” I mumbled under my breath. 
“What’s wrong?” She questioned.
“Angel, let it go. It’s nothing.” 
Part of me wanted to remove her grasp from me; the part that was used to shrinking away from my problems. But the other part of me that wanted to be a good man for her made me cup the back of her neck instead.  
“Talk to me,” she quietly begged. 
However, I remained silent; the words weighed heavy on my tongue. 
“Noah-.”
“I don't want you to leave,” I blurted out. 
Y/N’s eyes softened. “Noah, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“No. I-I don’t know. I’m-.” I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and change your mind. I’m not perfect-.” 
“Stop,” Y/N shook her head. “Don’t even say that, Noah. You know I love you. Just like I know you love me. Nothing will ever change my mind, alright? We’re both right here. We need to remain here, focus on that.” 
I let out a broken breath and brushed my lips over her forehead, my hands going back to grasp behind her neck. “Please don’t leave, don’t leave me in the shape you found me.” 
“Never. I will never leave you like that again,” she buried her face into my chest, breathing me in. 
I rested my chin on top of her head. “I love you and I want this so bad, angel. I want you.”
“I love you, Noah. I’ll reassure you as many times as I have to,” Y/N turned her head up at me now. “But you have to trust that I won’t let you fall. I’m here with you. It’s you and me, okay?” 
I blinked while letting out a calming breath. “I didn’t mean to ruin the night with my worries.” 
She kissed the tip of my nose. “You didn’t. And don’t apologize for your feelings. I know what we’ve gone through has done a lot. But we’re moving past that, Noah. I’m proud of that and I’d like for you to start trusting me.”
“I do,” I promised her with a kiss. “I do trust you.” 
“Good,” she rose to her tiptoes to lay another kiss on my lips, this one deeper than the last but she pulled away before I could slip my tongue in. “Take care of our baby. I’ll see you two tomorrow night.” 
With a heart doubled in size and adoration in my eyes, I watched Y/N as she slinked inside her apartment, throwing a peace sign over her shoulder at me.
We’ll be okay. 
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NOAH
Grunting, I helped Nicholas, Folio, and Jolly maneuver the large board out of the truck and down the ramp to bring it inside the large warehouse where we had everything else almost set up. It was just before eleven a.m. and even with a second cup of coffee, the caffeine hadn’t seemed to take effect quite yet. After I dropped off Y/N at home last night, I returned to Salem, who was still curled up on my pillow when I left him, and as I lay next to him, my mind was plagued with negative thoughts I tried so hard to push away. It kept me up till almost four in the morning then four hours later, Jolly knocked on my bedroom door to wake me. 
As soon as we all arrived at the warehouse, I put on my best professional face and went to work going over the original plans with Orie, making sure we all were on the same page. This was our first music video in our new era so we wanted to make sure it was perfect. 
Now, as I stared up at the large board, pulling on the ends of my white shirt, I allowed my mind to wander to Y/N, wondering what she was up to right now. 
Did she like the paint idea? 
Was the sex good enough? It was great for me but I hoped there was no pain for her. She said there wasn’t. 
It sounded like she enjoyed it. 
Was I too vocal in my proclamations? 
No, I know I wasn’t. Y/N returned those proclamations every time. 
I ran an unsteady hand through my hair while letting out a long sigh, and staring down at my feet. 
My emotions were a part of me, and in this relationship, they blended with Y/N’s. Although, there are times I had these storms inside of me, never because of her, but from previous damage; the triggers from my past. I was certain things would be okay and this self-deprecation would pass. 
I desired Y/N’s presence like a madman gone awol. In those moments of a storm, I had to find my calm and center myself, typically by myself. But with Y/N, I didn’t have to do that. Like my music, she was my muse. 
“Noah?” 
Glancing over my shoulder, I gave a small smile to Nicholas. “Yea?” 
“Are you alright? You’ve been kind of quiet all morning,” he observed while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie. 
I eventually knew someone would notice my quiet demeanor. I’d only been humoring when it was dire to do so. 
Fuck, I missed Y/N. The negative thoughts monster has bitten his way through the bars.
I hated that this had come out of nowhere, sinking its teeth inside of me with no abandon. Our date last night was amazing but these fucking nerves kept trying to sabotage things once again. I did my best to not allow them to. 
I needed to stop worrying about last night, knowing I could change anything about what happened even though there was nothing that needed to change. Just like today, I needed to stop worrying about everything that could go wrong and focus on everything that would go right. 
“You know you can talk to me,” Nicholas’ voice snapped me from my thoughts. 
“I know,” I nodded curtly. “I’m fine. I just want things to go perfect today.” 
He reassured me with a squeeze to my shoulder. “It will. We’ve been planning the details for months.” 
I shifted all of my weight from one foot to the other, casting my gaze away from him and towards everyone who continued to work tirelessly. 
“You miss Y/N?” 
My eyes darted back over to Nicholas. “She texted me earlier after she helped Astrid open Fika. They’re going shopping before grabbing some late lunch. I was going to meet Y/N at her place with Salem once we were done here.” 
“So let that be the light to help you through today.” 
I scratched my chin and nodded. “Yeah, I know.” 
“Noah! Nicholas! The red lights on the masks aren't working!” Orie’s voice boomed in the vast space of the warehouse. 
Motioning Nicholas along, we spent the next handful of hours directing, watching, and redoing some scenes of the music video a few times over to make sure everything went off without a hitch; the perfectionist in me. We even stopped for a few-minute break so Orie could try and throw candy into Folio’s mouth while I peeked at the few unread messages from Y/N. 
Angel 🪽: I may have bought a few things I’d like to model for you later. If you’re up for it. 😉
A sudden burst of warmth spread to my cheeks, something that didn't go unnoticed by Orie, who snickered. 
“Oh, there’s only one person who can get you to smile like that.” 
My eyes pinned into him, a sharp look that said mind your own business. Stepping away from the group of them, I responded to Y/N’s message. 
Me: I’d never turn down a show from you, angel. Can I get a hint?
Angel 🪽: It’s red. And I’m very excited for you to take it off. 
Fuck. 
I adjusted myself with a cough and spent the next couple of minutes texting her with a bright smile. It was nearing nightfall which meant we were close to recording the next scene of the music video. 
Angel 🪽: Astrid has not stopped gushing about Jolly. It’s kind of cute though when she calls him Joakim. Did you know that she’s thinking of naming a drink after him at Fika? 
I snorted while glancing up at Jolly, who was busy texting away on his phone; most likely to Astrid. 
Me: I’d love to know the name of this drink. 
Angel 🪽: Älskling. It means honey. She’s thinking honey, Earl orange, and pomegranate tea. Because he’s “sweet like honey.” 
Angel 🪽: Noah Sebastian, don’t tell Jolly I told you because I know you can’t keep things like this to yourself. 
Feigning a hurt expression, I sent her a selfie and then typed out my response. 
Me: My lips are sealed. But I have to get back to work. Me and Salem should be at your place around ten. I’ll grab some food on the way. 
Angel 🪽: Burgers? 🥺
Angel 🪽: Also, you gave you the right to look so fucking good, huh? I can’t wait to kiss those lips. 
The way my heart jumped in my chest made it almost hard to breathe. 
Me: Whatever you want, angel. 
Angel 🪽: Just you. And burgers. I’ll always take a burger. 
Pocketing my phone, I rounded a finger towards everyone, my voice carrying throughout the space around me. 
“Alright! Let’s film this pool scene before it gets too cold for the girls.” 
Two hours later, it was nearing eight in the evening and all we had left to shoot was Bad Omens part of the video. We were in the home stretch and I was practically bouncing on the soles of my feet knowing that I’d be seeing Y/N in a few more hours. 
As the four of us were dressed in our outfits for the music video, I chatted quietly with Folio while fixing the collar of his jacket. He’d been busy on every break today either talking to his girlfriend or planning something. 
“How are things going with her?” I questioned. 
The smile that spread on his face made a faint one pull on mine, knowing that one of my best friends was happy. 
“Really good. I’d love to have you guys meet her soon.” 
I nodded. “Definitely.” 
Folio’s eyes peered over my shoulder, a smirk now pulling on his face and he wiggled his eyebrows. Before I could ask what he was staring at, that invisible string in my chest vibrated with such vigor, that it nearly knocked me off my feet. 
“Well, look at this group of handsome men!” 
Spinning on my heels, I saw Y/N and Astrid walk into the warehouse with bags of food from one of our favorite diners and both of them holding onto two trays of drinks. My heart ran amok in my chest as my stomach flipped three times over at seeing Y/N wearing the yellow hoodie I wore last night when I dropped her off. 
“I swung by your place to grab Salem and pack you an overnight bag so once you’re finished here, we can head straight to my place. And yes, I did steal your sweater,” she answered my thoughts. 
“Yellow is your color, angel,” I mused while slowly closing the distance to her. “You didn’t have to do all of this.” 
Astrid walked up to Jolly, who grabbed the things from her and laid a kiss on her lips; her laughter echoing around us. 
Y/N shrugged while I mimicked Jolly’s actions of taking the things from her hands. 
“We know how hard all of you are working today, it’s the least we could do.” 
Orie came up to grab the food and drinks from me before dispersing it to everyone. 
“Thank god you’re here, Y/N. Noah’s been really bossy today.” 
She placed a hand on her hip, cocking it out while narrowing her eyes at me. “Bossy, huh?” 
“He’s a tyrant,” Orie chuckled before taking a bite of his burger. 
I wrapped my arms around Y/N, breathing her in when I brushed my nose along her hairline. “You’re not going to turn her on your side, Orie. You’re wasting your time.” 
She raised her lips to meet mine and I hummed in delight when I tasted the milkshake she must have had on the way over here. Even though Y/N was here in my arms, I still couldn’t quiet the negative frame of mind that plagued me throughout the day. 
“I like this new look,” Y/N straightened out my jacket. 
All I could do was nod in response and her brows creased in worry. “Are you alright?” 
Linking our hands together, I pulled her through the warehouse to slip outside where I knew no one would be. We finished the pool scene a while ago and the extras had left for the night. 
“Oh, a pool? Are we going skinny dipping?” Y/N teased with a wink. 
I ran a hand through my already-styled hair, still not saying anything. My mind was a jumbled mess and I was afraid if I tried to speak, my words wouldn’t make sense. 
“Noah, what is going on? You’re worrying me.” 
Her warm hands cupped my cheeks so I had to look at her, those bright eyes pleading with worry. 
“Talk to me,” Y/N breathed. 
“Did you enjoy our date? Was it to your standards? Did I do alright with everything?” 
The questions blurted out like word vomit. 
“Of course I did, Noah!” Those eyes darted back and forth between mine. “I had a wonderful time. Did I do something to make you think otherwise?” 
I clutched her sides. “No, you didn’t! I promise. I know we talked about things last night. I wanted to make sure last night was everything you wanted.” 
“It was,” she adjusted the collar of my turtle neck. “I promise.”  
“I felt even closer to you than I ever have before. Especially when we had sex and I just wanted reassurance,” I sighed. “That’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“Mochi, I loved every second with you. I loved everything about it. I felt closer and more connected with you too. Stop fussing if I had a great time. I’d sit and watch ants crawl out of the ground if it meant I could be with you.”
Something flashed in my mind that brought a genuine smile to my face and washed away all of those worries. 
Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. "You'd sit and get a tattoo with me?"
I brushed away a loose strand of hair that fell from her braid behind her ear, fingers trailing against the skin of her neck.
"I'd sit and watch ants crawl out of a hole for hours if that meant I'm sitting next to you," I vowed with hooded eyes as I stared down at her lips.
I pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. I take it we’re on for a second date then?” 
“I’m wide open,” Y/N winked with a kiss on my cheek. 
“Good,” I grinned. 
“Noah! We’re ready!” 
We both glanced over to the large opening of the warehouse to Nicholas who was waving us inside. 
“So, you’re staying the rest of the shoot?” I asked. 
Y/N beamed. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 
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READER
As I moved about my bedroom, tossing things into the suitcases that laid out on my bed, there was a delicate knock on my open door and Chase gave me a warm smile. 
“Malcolm and Noah are at the store right now and wondering if there’s anything else you need for this weekend,” he sat down on the edge of my bed. 
“No, just the list I gave them,” I said while zipping up my suitcase. 
“Are you nervous?” Chase asked, playing with Salem. 
“A bit, yeah,” I sighed while plopping down onto the bed next to him. “This is our first album as a three-piece. It’s completely different from our other albums so I’m afraid people won’t vibe with it.” 
Chase squeezed my knee. “They will. The reviews from the singles we already released are positive.” 
“I know. I’ve just been in my head a lot.” 
There was a slight hesitation in Chase’s breath before he asked his next question. 
“Have you talked to your parents at all?” 
My heart sank with guilt and I began chipping away at my nail polish. “It’s been a few days since I talked with my dad. With everything from trying to plan the album release party and Noah, I guess I kind of forgot to call him.” 
Chase wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest. “Your dad understands how busy you are. He’d never hold it against you.” 
I snorted. “Unlike my mom. Part of me wants to call her and give her an update on my life. Because I do love her, regardless of all of her faults, but I’m just afraid that she’ll judge me; again.” 
“Do whatever your heart tells you, sweets. You never know, she might surprise you.” 
Both of us shared a knowing look before we burst out in a fit of laughter knowing the odds of that happening. 
“But stop worrying about the small stuff, Y/N. Ethan said the house is booked, the guest list was sent out, and the caterers are paid. Everything is set, all we have to do is show up and promote the album,” Chase said as Salem lay between us. 
When I nodded, he stood to his feet and placed a kiss on top of my head then slipped out of my room. Pausing packing for a moment, I reached for my phone that was charging on my nightstand and I let my finger hover over my mom's contact for a long moment, wondering if I really wanted to do this or if it was the guilt for not reaching out to her more. 
Pros: she could be happy for me and even want to show up at the party. 
Cons: she calls me a disappointment yet again and criticizes my choices. 
“Fuck it,” I groaned then clicked on her name. 
It rang twice before going straight to voicemail. I rolled my eyes, knowing that she ignored my call, but tried not to dwell on the way my stomach dropped. 
“Hey mom, it’s me. How have things been? I heard you went to Greece for a few weeks to visit family. I bet that was nice, I’d love to see some pictures. Maybe we could meet up for coffee to talk?” 
I ran my sweaty palms on my sweats before continuing. “I have some news. Hollow Souls new album releases this Saturday and we're throwing this party to celebrate it. I know you never were too keen on my career choice but it would mean a lot if you came. I’ll text you the details. S'agapó.” 
Ending the call by saying I loved her in Greek, I hit the red button with a disappointed sigh. I knew there was a higher chance she wouldn’t answer my call rather than actually answering it. Instead of dwelling on it, I texted my dad. 
Me: Can I call? 
His response came almost instantly. 
Dad: You never have to ask, sweetheart. 
With a smile, I decided to FaceTime him instead and broke out in a large smile when his face appeared on the screen. His hair had a bit more gray than the last time and a few more wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. The glasses were practically falling off his nose but when he saw me, he pushed them up. 
“There she is! Oh, I’m loving the new hair!” He beamed. 
“Thanks Dad. I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while, life’s been kind of crazy,” I explained while leaning against the headboard. 
My dad waved me off as he spun around in his office chair, the large and filled bookcases now his backdrop. “It’s alright, sweetheart. How have things been?” 
We spent the next few minutes catching up when Noah entered my room, both hands full of bags. When I went to help him, he held up the bags higher so I couldn’t. With a playful glare at him, I turned my attention back to my dad while Noah went about emptying the bags. 
“So your mom didn’t answer?” 
Briefly ignoring the questioning glance from Noah, I shook my head at my dad. 
“I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s like she has this radar that goes off before I call to talk about my life. If it’s not about her, she doesn't care,” I pulled my knees up to my chest so Noah could sit down in front of me. 
My dad took off his glasses to rub his eyes before putting them back on his nose. “I’m sorry sweetheart. I wish she never took her own frustrations out on you. She’s unhappy with how things ended with the divorce and she can’t seem to heal from it.” 
Noah’s fingers grazed over the exposed skin of my ankle. 
“All these years later and I still try to make her proud of me,” I shrugged. 
“I know sweetheart. But sometimes, you have to think about yourself and make yourself proud before her. That’s what matters.” 
Noah’s hand brushed away the hair from my face and I smiled up at him. 
“Oh, whose hand is that?” My dad's questionable voice came from my phone. “Those are a lot of tattoos.” 
With a glance at Noah, he nodded so I shifted my position for my phone to not only show me but him as well.
“I wish I could introduce you two face to face but this will have to do. Dad, this is Noah.” 
Noah gave a small wave to the phone. “Hi, Mr. Y/L/N, it’s an honor to meet you.” 
“Shit, even your neck is covered! That had to hurt,” my dad chuckled while rubbing his own neck. “It’s an honor to meet you as well, Noah. My daughter has told me quite a lot about you. All good things, no need to worry.” 
My cheeks burned and Noah wrapped an arm around my side, pulling us closer. 
“You have a wonderful daughter. I want to assure you that I love her and will take great care of her,” he vowed. 
My father snorted while moving about his house now. “I knew it from the moment I saw that video of you two performing on stage together during your last tour that you loved Y/N. It was clear in the way you smiled at her.” 
“Dad,” I muttered under my breath. 
Noah, however, looked at me with deep affection in those almond eyes. “I think I knew it back then as well, it just took me longer to admit it.” 
“Call it father’s intuition,” my dad said. “But I have to go. I’m meeting some friends for ramen.” 
“Ugh,” I groaned. “I would kill for some Japanese ramen right now.” 
“Well,” my father started while slipping into his jacket one-handed. “Bring Noah the next time you visit and we can all go out for some. There’s this great place next to this shop that sells some kind of Manga drawings. I don’t understand it but the kids your age seem to love it.” 
“We’ll be there,” Noah promised with a kiss on the side of my head. 
“Have fun at the album release party, sweetheart. I can’t wait to hear the new songs!” 
We both waved at the screen before it went black, me hanging up the call. 
“Your dad seems like a great guy,” Noah noted while rolling off of my bed and trotting over to my dresser. 
He opened the top two drawers, rummaging around for some of his clothes. 
About two weeks ago, he slowly brought some of his things over here while I did the same at his place. We’d been bouncing back and forth between the two but with how busy I’d been planning the album release party and all the finishing touches for the album, it’d been a few days since Noah and I spent the night together. So now that we were leaving tomorrow for the weekend, he decided to spend the night at my place so we could ride up to Big Bear with Chase and Malcolm. 
“He is,” I rested my chin on my knees. “I really hope one day we can visit him together.” 
“We will.”
Noah promised with a kiss on my head before retreating out of my room so he could shower while I finished packing all of our things, the excitement of this weekend making me dance around my bedroom. 
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READER
My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I typed away on my phone, the hustle and bustle of everyone setting up for the party falling away from me. 
The Power Puff Girls group chat:
Me: You guys on your way back? 
Astrid: Had to stop at the store quickly! Matt texted Jolly to grab some Dr. Pepper.  We picked up Maxxine about thirty minutes ago but would have been back at the house by now if Jolly wasn’t taking FOREVER in the book section. He’s trying to find some kind of new fantasy book to read this weekend. 
Maxxine: It’s kind of cute watching the two of you giggle with your own inside jokes while I just stand here as a third wheel. 
I let out my own chuckle as I stopped in front of the large mirror in the rental house, brushing away any lint from my white dress. The sleeves were lace and stopped right at my elbows and the bottom of my dress rested mid-thigh. I was afraid that the front may have been too low cut but Noah reassured me it was fine. 
With an array of kisses between my breasts. 
My phone vibrated in my hand and I read the new message. 
Astrid: Oh hush you. 
Me: Well, we’re very excited for you to join us, Maxxine. Bring some more females into this group of male hormones. I’d been dying to introduce you to someone! 
Maxxine: No, Y/N. Please. My last date was so horrendous, I still haven’t recovered. 
“Angel?” 
Glancing away from my phone, I smiled at Noah as he came bounding down the stairs dressed in a black long-sleeve and almost eggshell white pants. I licked my lips at the sight of him dressed up. It wasn’t anything fancy but it still made my heart flutter. 
“Have you seen my shoes? The black-.” 
“The black lace-ups,” I nodded. “Yes, they’re in the closet in our room. Next to my house shoes.” 
He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Thank you.” 
As Noah retreated upstairs again, I turned back down to my phone. 
Astrid: We promise, this guy is different! 
Maxxine: I don’t know. I think I should just be single for a while. My luck with men hasn’t been the greatest. I always chose losers. 
Me: Please, you’ll be thanking us for setting you up with him. 
Setting my phone on the kitchen counter, I peered over to Jesse, who was setting up the drinks and snacks at the dining room table. Noah mentioned to me the other night how Jesse had been feeling quite down a lot lately due to his anxiety and had been falling into himself, closing himself off from everyone. While Jesse wouldn’t admit it, we all had an inkling feeling that seeing some of his best friends get into relationships, made him doubt himself in finding someone. We also knew how hard of a time he had in Pittsburg when Erra was there touring a few months ago, so Astrid and I decided to set him up with a mutual friend of ours and I invited her to the party tonight. 
“Hey,” I slinked up beside Jesse and bumped my shoulder with his. 
“Hi,” he smiled. “You look beautiful. Excited for tonight?” 
“Thank you! I am. But I just wanted to let you know that there’s someone I want you to meet tonight.” 
He set down the cups and raised a brow. “Why me?” 
“Oh, no reason,” I shrugged before patting his chest and walking away. 
“Y/N! What’s that supposed to mean!”
Giggling, I met up with Chase and Malcolm in the main living area of the house. Chase was brushing away Maclolm’s long auburn locks and I smiled at the two of them. I knew they were nervous about being open about their relationship in the beginning but now they were blossoming together and I couldn’t have been happier for them. 
“How are we feeling?” I asked them to check-in. 
Malcolm ran a hand down the front of his black dress shirt. “Nervous as hell.” 
Chase rubbed his shoulder. “It’ll be fine, love. The support already has been incredible. It’s only going to get better.” 
I wrapped my arms around both of them. “In case this album flops, I want you guys to know that I’m glad we took this chance. I love what we created.” 
“It’s not going to flop,” Chase rolled his bright blue eyes but returned the hug. “Love you two, idiots.” 
I pulled away from them and turned towards the front door when it opened, smiling at Astrid, Jolly, and Maxxine who walked inside. My eyes darted from Maxxine to Jesse, who froze in the middle of his tracks. He took in the sight of her; long legs, olive skin, long black hair, and bright hazel eyes. 
Maxxine, who had her arms full of bags, gave a slow once over of Jesse with a blush and faint smile. 
“Hi,” he cleared his throat. “Let me help you.” 
“Thank you,” she allowed Jesse to take a couple of bags from her. 
Astrid and I shared a proud smile. 
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” 
Noah’s deep voice sang in my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, a kiss to the side of my neck. Turning in his embrace, I pecked his lips. 
“Hm, once or twice,” I wrapped my arms behind his neck. 
With the soft tune of music playing in the background, our bodies began to sway lightly. When his eyes fell behind me, his brows furrowed together. 
“Who’s the girl with Jesse?” 
I turned slightly in his embrace to see Jesse and Maxxine laughing about something with each other. She was lightly touching his arm and the smile on his face was one that you couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard you tried. 
“Oh, that’s a friend of mine and Astrid’s. Her name is Maxxine. I thought that maybe she and Jesse would hit it off,” I explained. 
Noah’s lips left feather-like kisses along my forehead. “I love you.” 
I grasped the front of his shirt, engulfing myself in his scent. 
“I love you too. But before the party starts, I want to show you something.” 
Linking our hands together, we slipped away from the group and down the hall of the rental home to the office where I already had things set up. I closed the door behind us and motioned for Noah to sit on the long sofa while I sat on the recliner chair diagonal from him. On the table was a pair of wireless headphones that were already hooked up to my phone. 
“What’s this?” Noah wondered after falling onto the couch. 
I handed him the headphones. “I know you’ll hear this song later but I wanted you to hear it for the first time with just the two of us. It’s an important song and it means a lot.” 
My heart was drumming inside of the confines of my chest making it hard to breathe. I finished recording this song months ago and besides me, Chase, and Malcolm no one else heard it. I wanted Noah to be the first. 
Once he placed the headphones over his ears, I loaded up the song on my phone and hit play. Even though I couldn’t hear the song physically, I could hear it in my mind. 
I know it's warmer where you are and it's safer by your side. But right now I can't be what you want. Just give it time.
Noah’s shoulders went stiff as he flicked his eyes up at me, steepling his fingers together in his lap. I gave him a reassuring nod, urging him to continue. 
And if you and I can make it through the night. And if you and I can keep our love alive, we'll fight. 
Now nothing gave way on his face as he stared down at his hands, the only movement was the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. 
We can meet in the middle. Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh. 
I couldn’t bear being so far from him while not knowing how he was feeling so I rose from my chair to sit on the other end of the couch next to him. 
Well, it's cold when we're apart and I hate to feel this die. But you can't give me what I want. Just give it time
Noah’s eyes fluttered shut and I swore I saw all the oxygen leave his lungs, telling me I knew what part of my lyrics he just heard. 
But for now we stay so far. 'Til our lonely limbs connect. I can't keep you in these arms. So I'll keep you in my mind.
My bottom lip caught between my teeth as my knee bounced with anticipation, wanting desperately to know what he thought about my song. But I didn’t want to disturb him yet. 
Can we meet in the middle? Bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight. Where all the stars align. Oh you and I, oh you and I, oh.
Glancing at my phone, I realized the song ended, but Noah made no effort to take off the headphones. My lips parted to speak when I noticed a lone tear roll down his cheek. 
“Noah?” I tapped his arm. 
With the heat of my touch, it was as if he came alive again. Ripping off the headphones, Noah’s lips attacked mine with an inferno, making me fall back onto the couch with him on top of me. My fingers quickly found their usual place in his hair while he hooked my leg around his hips. 
“Angel,” he fanned in the crook of my neck. 
“Did-did you like it?” I asked. 
Noah’s tongue brushed along the pulsepoint of my neck and I shivered underneath him. 
“I loved it,” he breathed as his teeth scraped up along my jawline before slipping his tongue into my mouth. 
We had a short fight for dominance before reluctantly I let Noah win, his hands running up and down my bare thighs. When he pulled away, I was dizzy; kiss drunk. And his eyes burned as he looked down at me. 
“Are you sure?” I questioned, still filled with worry he didn’t like it. 
“Y/N,” he lifted my chin with the finger that had the small heart tattooed on it. “I wouldn’t lie to you about this. It was perfect.”
“Thank you,” I wrapped my legs around him to bring his body closer to mine, moaning when I felt the outline of his cock brush along my heated core. 
His forehead fell onto my chest and sighed. “Do we have to go out there? Can we stay here the two of us? In our bubble.” 
I lifted his head to kiss his nose. “Unfortunately, this party is partly for me so I have to show up.” 
Grudgingly, Noah untangled himself from me and then helped me to my feet, fixing my dress and hair for me. 
With our fingers linked together, he led me back into the main part of the house where the party was already well underway. 
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THIRD PERSON POV
The crowd of people kept congratulating the members of Hollow Souls for an amazing album. Everyone loved the new songs and was excited about the new direction they were headed toward. Chase and Malcolm chatted with one of the reps from the record label while Y/N was talking with someone she didn’t expect to see there. 
“I can’t believe you flew all the way to Los Angeles from Vermont for this! You didn’t have to,” she smiled while wrapping her arms around the man in a hug. 
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, Y/N,” Joe shrugged. “Where’s Noah?” 
“Um, last I saw he was talking with his friend Bryan.” 
She glanced around the room but broke out in a large smile when Noah slinked up beside her and left a kiss on her cheek. 
“There you are. I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is Joe,” Y/N pointed between the two men. 
Noah extended a hand. “Nice to officially meet you.” 
“Yeah you too,” Joe shook his hand with a smile. 
The three of them chatted for a long while after moving to one of the couches in the living room,  Y/N watching with fondness as her boyfriend and one of her good friends got along pretty well. She even stole a glance over towards Jesse and Maxxine who were seated on the couch across from them. His arm was thrown over the top of the couch, fingers grazing over the skin of Maxxine’s shoulder. Every so often she would slink in closer towards him. 
“Would you like a drink, angel?” Noah asked. 
Her eyes snapped back to him and she nodded. “Dr. Pepper, please.” 
Once Noah stood from the couch, Y/N opened her mouth to ask Joe how life was going when someone else sat down on the couch next to her, almost in Noah’s previous spot. 
Devon? Derrick? No, his name was Dennis; a mutual acquaintance of Ethan, their manager. 
“Hey, Y/N. I thought I’d sneak in to tell you how awesome the new album sounds,” he slicked back his overly gelled hair. 
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.” 
While she knew of him from things Ethan would say, Y/N never actually met him. 
“I love the new vibe you guys have going on. It’s very different from your old albums. Although, I must say that my favorite is still your self-entitled. Trey’s vocals kick ass on that.” 
Joe sat up straighter from his spot on the other side of Y/N while she narrowed her eyes at Dennis. 
“Everyone has their own opinions I suppose,” she said while trying to pull down the ends of her dress when she caught Dennis staring at her legs. 
“You know,” he licked his lips and moved closer to Y/N. “You’re doing really well without Trey. How about we go out for a drink?” 
“No thank you, I’m not interested.” 
Y/N slinked back closer to Joe, who gladly accepted it.
“One drink?” Dennis tried again with a sly smirk. 
“I don’t drink,” Y/N narrowed her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest, hoping to show the guy that she was finished with this conversation. 
Joe sent a look over to Malcolm, who was standing in the kitchen next to Noah, and with that shared expression, the redhead nodded. 
“Noah,” Malcolm motioned behind Noah. 
With a perplexed look, Noah turned around and nearly crushed the glass in his hand at what he saw. Y/N was almost in Joe’s lap, trying to get away from some douchebag who kept advancing towards her. 
“What the fuck,” he grumbled under his breath, nostrils flaring. 
Tonight was not the night to lose his cool but he could feel that ugly feeling burning low in his gut; the feeling he despised. He didn’t want to come off as jealous or that he couldn’t trust Y/N because he could. But Noah did not like the way this guy was almost undressing her with his eyes. 
Joe wanted to intervene but also knew that Y/N had it handled; something she’d proven before. 
She glanced around the room with panic in her eyes until they fell on Noah, utter relief filling them. The guy followed her gaze and scoffed when he realized what she Y/N was looking at. 
Noah’s blood ran cold as his heart was thumping loudly in his ears, everything becoming white noise to him. His fingers shook at his sides, doing his best to remain calm. 
“Who is that guy?” He asked Malcolm. 
“Dennis. Ethan’s assistant.”
Matt, who had snuck up beside Noah, urged him with a look. 
“This asshole just asked Y/N to go outside with him for more privacy.” 
Fire burned in Noah’s eyes as he snapped them back over to the couch, where he nearly choked at the sight in front of him. Dennis was dragging his fingers down Y/N’s neck with intimacy that was reserved for Noah only. That was his spot. Y/N was his, it was proven tonight when she played her song for him. 
His insides burned with rage that it nearly made him unable to see anything in front of him. 
The sound of Y/N’s hand smacking Dennis’ hand away broke through the haze in Noah’s vision. 
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she seethed. 
Joe quickly pulled Y/N up from the couch just as Noah pushed himself off the edge of the counter and made his way through the crowd over towards his girlfriend; hands shaking with more vigor now. It would be so easy to punch Dennis and show him who Y/N belongs to, however, Noah wouldn’t create a scene tonight; not when this night meant so much to Hollow Souls. 
With three deep breaths, Noah came to a halt in front of Y/N who quickly found solace underneath his arm.
“Everything alright?” He wondered. 
Y/N, albeit with the annoyed look in her usual bright eyes, wore a faux smile. “Yeah, now it is.” 
“I think you were just leaving, no?” Joe asked Dennis. 
The man shook his head while slowly rising to his feet. “No, actually I wasn’t. I heard that Y/N is single so I thought to shoot my shot.” 
Noah’s body vibrated with anger so Y/N rested a hand on his chest, her touch immediately calming him. 
“I’d like to know where you heard that,” Noah spoke slowly, even though he was on edge. 
“Does it matter?” Dennis harshly laughed. “All I’m saying is that she looks sexy as fuck tonight. I thought we could sneak away for a bit but it seems like she’s too far up your ass to even notice there are other guys here.” 
“I already said no,” Y/N’s voice was stern. 
Noah’s eyes sliced Dennis in half but remained calm; an eerie calm that seemed to have the gathering crowd of their friends on edge. His arm was still around her, claiming Y/N as his own but for added measure he left a kiss on the side of her head. 
Dennis raised his hands in defeat. “Alright, I get it. It’s fine, from what I hear from Trey, you can’t be satisfied anyway.” 
Chase appeared almost out of nowhere and grabbed him by the collar of his green polo. “Time for you to go. Now.” 
“Chase, please. No fighting,” Y/N begged still in Noah’s embrace. 
His usual bright blue eyes were dark, a deep hue of midnight, while he glared at Dennis. 
“I promise, no fighting,” Chase gritted out through clenched teeth. “I’m only going to show this asshole the way out.” 
Noah and Dennis shared one final glance, victory dancing on the former's lips before he whispered in Y/N’s ear. 
“Upstairs. Now.” 
Her eyes sparkled when she gazed up at him with a mischievous smirk. The both of them slipped away almost unnoticed by everyone, running up the stairs two at a time with Noah smacking her ass, her giggles echoing far behind them. 
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READER
As soon as we were in the confines of our bedroom in the rental house, Noah lifted me in the air to press my back against the door. I wrapped my legs around his waist while his hands gripped my thighs. There was a dire need of want in his eyes as he crashed his lips to mine in such a frenzied, hungry kiss, that it made me see stars from the force of it. His teeth grazed over my tongue and then my lips, drawing the teeniest bit of blood. 
“Fuck, Noah!” I exclaimed while dotting a finger to my lip. 
Growling, he began biting my neck, licking away Dennis’ touch. “I don’t know who the fuck he thinks he is. No one will ever fucking talk to you like that or touch what’s mine.”
“Oh god, yes,” I hissed, running my hands through his hair when he sucked on my sweet spot.
Somehow Noah managed to yank off my panties in our position and stuffed them deep into his pocket. One lone finger slipped between us when he pinned me to the door again and started rubbing fast circles on my clit. 
“Shit. Fuck. So good,” I crowed while pulling on the ends of his hair. 
Once I was wet enough, Noah quickly pulled out his cock, rubbing a fist over it for a few pumps before slipping in between my folds with a hard snap of his hips that we rattled against the door. I felt so full, so stretched open, that I gasped; not realizing at first that Noah forgot to put on a condom. 
“I want that motherfucker to hear who you belong to, angel,” he grunted with each thrust, nails digging into the skin of my bare ass to keep me grounded against him. 
“Fuck, god. So good,” I panted while scratching at his shoulders. “Right there.” 
We both were grunting so loudly and with the banging of the door, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that everyone could hear us downstairs. But none of them mattered. 
Only Noah and I did. 
His lips attacked mine once again, teeth smacking and tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths. 
“Say my name, I want him and any other man who thinks they have a shot, to hear who you belong to,” Noah bit down hard on my neck, his thrusts were fast and relentless. 
“NOAH!” I screamed when his finger pressed against my clit again, being exactly what I needed to come apart on his cock. 
My body writhed in his tight hold on me and with the force of his hands on my ass, I knew that I would have bruises in the morning but I didn’t fucking care. 
“You’re mine.” He grunted while craning my neck back by my hair. 
Noah went back to working on the raised red mark on my neck, right alongside the other bite marks he left before. 
“Yes, I am,” I rasped, gone in ecstasy. 
“Forever angel,” Noah’s hips stilled before pulling himself completely out of me. “Fucking say it.” 
“I’m yours forever, Noah!” I proclaimed with a feverish nod. 
“You’re mine, angel,” he gruffed while now wrapping his hand around his cock. 
It was thick and red, almost angry from being denied release. 
“It felt too good and I didn’t want to risk it,” he sighed while letting me fall to my feet. 
I kissed his lips, this time more gentle than our previous kisses. “Cum on my chest.” 
Noah’s movements around his cock faltered for a moment, pupils dilating to pure black. 
“What?” 
Dropping to my knees, I pulled down the front of my dress to expose my bare chest to him and peered up at him through my lashes. 
“I want you to mark me, Noah. Mark what’s yours,” I begged. 
“Shit, Y/N,” he mused while running one hand through my hair, dragging his fingers down my neck over my chest to pull and pinch my nipples. 
His grip around his cock was tight, knuckles turning white as he moved his hand up and down with such a velocious pace, it almost made it hard to focus on it. I licked my lips when I spotted the precum Noah used to spread over the head of his cock and I whined with the desire to taste him. 
The hand he had wrapped around the back of my neck to keep me in place tightened its grip as he bent over me, resting his forehead against the door. Noah was still dressed but I could only imagine that the muscles in his stomach were taut, his release so close. 
“Cum for me, Noah. Please,” I begged with a whiny breath. 
“Fucking hell,” he howled my name when his warm release shot all over my neck and down between my breasts. 
I hummed in pleasure, seeing the white stickiness run down my stomach, reveling in the feeling of his mark all over me. Noah stared down at me through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with each deep breath. 
“I didn’t think,” he took a deep breath while licking his lips. “I didn’t think that would be so hot.” 
Allow him to help me to my feet, I couldn’t wipe the smirk from my face. “I did, why do you think I asked for it?” 
Noah’s eyes flashed as he bent low to capture my lips in a kiss. “Am I going to keep finding out your secret kinks, angel?” 
“I think so since you discovered two of them already,” I dragged a finger down his cheek. 
“You like possessive sex? I feel terrible for throwing you against the door,” Noah rubbed the back of his neck. 
I shrugged. “It’s not so much the possessive side of it but more so the dominant side of you.” 
He lifted my hand to his lips, leaving a kiss on my palm. “Do you want to head back downstairs?” 
“No, I’m exhausted and need a shower,” I giggled while motioning to my chest. 
Even though his cheeks reddened, the look that crossed his face as he looked me over made my core clench. 
“Get cleaned up and I’ll sneak downstairs to grab us some snacks,” Noah patted my ass, dismissing me towards the bathroom connected to our bedroom. 
“Think Folio will share those chocolate-covered pretzels he brought?” I wondered. 
Noah chuckled while stuffing his cock back into his pants before zipping them. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” 
Right before he slipped through the door, I chastised him when I noticed the large red mark on my neck.
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ASTRID
“Okay, I think they’re finally finished,” I chuckled while walking into the bedroom I was sharing with Jolly. “The door stopped rattling awhile ago and when I walked past their bedroom, I heard one of them snoring.” 
Jolly peered up from strumming a few notes on the guitar in his lap and smiled at me. 
“It’s most likely, Noah. Do you know he wears those nose strips?” 
“No way!” I gasped while pulling down the sleeves of his sweater I was wearing, moving about the room to finish getting ready for bed. 
It was his black Bad Omens hoodie, with the hand and gun on the front.
“Yeah, try sleeping in a moving sweatbox and hearing that. I sometimes worry he’ll inhale the bus curtains. That’s Y/N’s problem now,” he chuckled while reaching for me and pulling me to the bed with him. 
I broke out in a fit of giggles when he placed me in his lap and then rested the guitar in mine. He set my fingers in the position they needed to before helping me strum a few notes. 
He placed a kiss on my shoulder. “I’m glad you were able to leave Fika for the weekend to be here with me.” 
I turned my head towards him and kissed his lips. “Jessica can handle it. I need to start loosening the reins a bit and enjoy things more.” 
Jolly’s eyes glinted as he set the guitar down on the floor before lying me back down on the bed, lifting my end of the sweater to reveal all I was wearing underneath was a pair of black underwear. 
“You walked around like this?” His voice rumbled deep within his chest. 
I innocently shrugged. “I didn’t run into anyone. Besides, I’m practically swimming in your sweater. No one would have seen anything.” 
Hooking my underwear with his fingers, Jolly practically ripped them down my legs before flipping me onto my stomach. 
“Keep the sweater on, käraste,” he demanded while spreading my legs wide. 
“Fuck, yes,” I nodded while burying my face into the pillow, hearing Jolly’s belt buckle fall to the floor. 
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NOAH
Jolly and I moved around the large kitchen, almost with ease like we’d done this countless times before as we made breakfast for everyone. It was our last day up in Big Bear and we had a full day of activities planned. 
Breakfast, a mountain hike, lunch at a diner in town, and Y/N wanted to steal me away for a few hours to go horseback riding. 
The large table was filled with everyone and I had to stop for a moment to appreciate everyone here who came out to support Hollow Souls. They didn’t need to but they did because Y/N, Chase, and Malcolm became part of our family with that tour that seemed so long ago now. 
“Noah, can you hand me the eggs?” 
Snapping my gaze away from everyone, I turned towards Jolly and handed him the carton of eggs. 
“So,” I smirked while pouring more pancake mix onto the sizzling griddle. “I heard you had a great night last night. I walked past your room to come down to the kitchen for a drink and heard you grunting something in Swedish. What was it?” 
He froze, mixing the eggs in the large bowl for a moment before scoffing. “Like you’re one to talk. We all heard you guys last night. The door wouldn’t stop rattling, shaking the walls.” 
My face was beet red and I adjusted the collar of my sweater to ease it away from my neck. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” 
“I’m surprised you even heard anything over your snoring,” Jolly shrugged with a sly smirk. “I told Astrid you use nose strips.” 
I dropped the spatula, it clattering to the counter and gasped. “You did not!” 
A sudden movement from the stairs caught both of our attention, our heads snapping to the forms of Jesse and Maxxine walking down, her wearing one of his shirts. With a shared look, Jolly and I scurried over to our girlfriends, me pulling on Y/N’s shirt while she poured herself a cup of coffee. 
“Mochi,” she smacked my hand away. “Not now. I’m hungry and need caffeine. Sex in the shower took a lot out of me this morning.” 
“Angel,” I reached for her again. 
“I’m serious,” she held a stern gaze over the rim of her cup as she looked at me. “I need a break.” 
Rolling my eyes, I turned her around just in time for her to see Jesse hold out the chair for Maxxine, who blushed up at him in thanks. 
“No fucking way!” Y/N sputtered into her cup and then looked back at me. “She stayed the night with him?” 
I wrapped my arms around her, breathing in the peach scent of her body wash, and smiled. “Look at you, little matchmaker.” 
We shared a kiss before I motioned for her to sit down at the table so I could bring her a plate of food. 
Everyone went about the kitchen, filling up their own plates while I sat down next to Y/N, handing her the plate. Once everyone was seated, Malcolm took a long pull of his coffee before setting it down on the dark oak of the table. 
“So, who do you think was louder last night? Jolly or Noah?” 
The noise of my fork falling on my plate rang loudly in all of our ears while Jolly nearly choked on his scrambled eggs. Both of us slowly sank into our seats while Astrid and Y/N shared a look across the table, stifling a fit of giggles behind their hands. 
Noticing the way our faces reddened, Folio spoke up to change the subject. “Did anyone enjoy seeing the snow dogs? Michelle and I had a great time when we were here last time.”
“Oh that’s right,” Davis nodded. “You guys were here for Valentine's Day, right?” 
While their conversation fell on deaf ears, I felt my heart stutter in my chest and glanced over to Y/N, who was having her own conversation with Michael who sat next to her. The realization hit me with such force, that I had to lean farther back into my chair. 
Even though it was well into March, we never spent Valentine's Day together, and honestly, that wasn’t something that sat well with me. My heart yearned to make up for all the times we missed during our time apart and for the rest of breakfast, I made those plans in my mind. 
“Were we really that loud last night?” 
Y/N asked me at the same time Astrid asked Jolly and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me with a chuckle, brushing my lips against her ear. 
“Want to see if we can get even louder before we leave?” I nibbled on her ear lobe. 
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