#i miss when i didn’t have an eating disorder

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 1

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.

The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.

What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?

“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie. 

"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."

"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.

"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."

The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.

It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.

"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."

"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.

He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.

It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.

She was one of them.

"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.

Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain. 

It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters. 

Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t. 

And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes. 

"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and  tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"

Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.

"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.

 "Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze.  "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."

Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were. 

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."

"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."

Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger." 

"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.

Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.

He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter. 

"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.

He took her in in more detail at that moment.

The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.

They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.

But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better.  She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.

She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody.  Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city.  She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite. 

And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice. 

The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully. 

"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better. 

Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them. 

“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.

“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“

She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.

Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered. 

“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“

Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly. 

“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended. 

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body. 

Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly. 

He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented. 

It’s ugly, the shadows complained. 

He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else. 

“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse. 

That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by. 

As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.

Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed. 

Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily. 

At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do. 

He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed. 

“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“

The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it. 

“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall. 

When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs. 

“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin. 

“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.

There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended. 

The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“

Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be? 

“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.” 

“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“ 

“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.

The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister. 

Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.

Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily. 

“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach. 

“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his. 

He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables. 

He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.

“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“ 

“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“

“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice. 

Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be. 

It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.

“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.

She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter. 

“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“

The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her. 

“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“

The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.

He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were. 

“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“ 

He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“ 

The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table. 

“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“

He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes. 

She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly. 

Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.

“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.

Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.

“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.

“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”

And didn’t that break his fucking heart? 

She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“ 

The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.

His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin. 

“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.

It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“

He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment. 

He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice. 

“Eat your cheese,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered. 

“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.” 

“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.

Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.

“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”

Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness. 

He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.

“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.

“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves. 

“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face. 

“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly. 

The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back. 

“Sleep,” he told her again.

And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.

He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t. 

Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.

They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.

The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself. 

Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.

I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.

A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?

I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.

There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?

Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.

Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.

I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?

I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.

Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise. 

Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close. 

Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it. 

And he was infuriated about the whole thing.

Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.

They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.

Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach. 

Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.

It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.

So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.

Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind.  Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing. 

They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian. 

He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.

Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it. 

He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything. 

All for scraps of attention.

Azriel was done.

He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything…. 

He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.

Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago

The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine. 

She was alone just as much as he was. 

Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was. 

***

It was quiet in the little cottage. 

Peaceful. 

Comfortable.

Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.

Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.

Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.

That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.

She didn’t care.

Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.

She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb. 

Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.

She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything. 

Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.

It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.

It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself. 

Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage? 

All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them. 

And then there was her. 

She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could. 

And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections. 

She didn’t fault her for that. 

Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there. 

Which was fine. 

It was. 

But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters. 

Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water. 

Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.

She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right? 

Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her. 

Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.

She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want. 

Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.

She had nothing.

Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea. 

Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it. 

Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless. 

It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light. 

Oh well. 

Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either. 

So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on. 

Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.

One receipt at a time, one name after the other. 

It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once. 

She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back. 

She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she? 

She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow. 

Then Zahra heard a knock on the door. 

Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already. 

She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.

It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel. 

“I am making you dinner.“

Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly. 

He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly. 

It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?” 

He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it. 

He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it. 

She could just stare at him. 

“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.

Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice. 

Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?” 

He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully.  “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.

“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that. 

There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.” 

“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.” 

He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.

“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes. 

They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.

It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook. 

And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before. 

“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her. 

Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious. 

“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”

“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response. 

The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work. 

Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising. 

And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly. 

She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.

“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her. 

His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm. 

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?” 

He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly. 

He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.

“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded

That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say. 

And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”

She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t. 

So Zahra ate.

The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour. 

Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs. 

"Thank you," she finally said weakly.

Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food. 

[scribblesofagoonerr]

under pressure | katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord

thank you to the anon that requested this one. it's been fun to write it!

i think i'm gonna plan a part 2 of this maybe, depending on what reaction i get from this one...

pairings: katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord

summary: there's a lot of pressure that comes with being the next big thing in women's football sometimes

warning: talks of a eating disorder and angst

It sometimes felt like you had the world at your feet. You were well aware of the word on the street that you were the next big thing in women’s football. The headlines were quick to label you as a future star, comparing you to legends like Marta or Sam Kerr, but of course being the youngest to sign a professional contract sometimes came with a certain level of expectations, and that was something that nobody could really prepare you for the weight that would follow.

Living alongside Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord felt like a dream in itself like it would for any football-crazy teenager and you were no different, you moved in with them after your own parents couldn’t travel to England with you. 

Caitlin and Katie were quick to become more than just teammates or mentors, they became family.

It should’ve been perfect– It mostly was.

At least until the pressure started to become too much for you, the media scrutinised everything about you: your every move, every game, every slip-up. There felt like there was never any room for mistakes and it started to take its toll on you.

The expectations suffocated you and you started to believe the medias’ words, not only the media but the pressure of fans as well, you felt like you were weighed down by an anker of harsh criticism.

Maybe if you were smaller– lighter, you could be faster. You could be better.

It only started small, barely noticeable in fact, just skipping meals and convincing yourself that you were just too busy. The comments on how lean you looked pushed you further, but it didn’t take long for the innocent excuses to morph into something darker.

The hunger pains were a lot easier to bear than the suffocating pressure, but you should have realised that it would be harder to hide, and before long, it wasn’t just you who had noticed the toll it was taking on you.

“You seem a lot quieter today kid,” Caitlin was the first to pick up on your bitter mood as you made your way out of the London Colney and headed in the direction of where Katie had parked her car earlier on when you all arrived for training, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m all good,” You gave her a weak smile and kept your shoulders slouched as you opened the car door to climb in.

Are you sure, kiddo?” Katie noted the exhausted look on your face as she opened the car door and climbed in, “Cait’s right, you don’t seem like yourself today.”

“I’m fine Katie,” You all but growled in response and slumped down in the backseat of the car, “I’ve already told you I’m fine, so just leave it, will you?” You hadn’t meant to be rude but you really do hate all the persistent questions being fired at you.

You hated being the centre of attention, despite what the media said about you.

It didn’t take long for you to begin feeling the weight of guilt, “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“It’s okay kiddo,” Katie replied, glancing in the rearview mirror and giving you a reassuring smile, “How about when we get home, we order pizza. My treat?” She offered.

Your smile faltered at the mention of food. Your stomach was hurting from the hunger, but couldn’t give in to the temptations, “Um, it’s okay, I don’t really fancy pizza, thanks,” You respond, biting your bottom lip.

You missed Katie and Caitlin sharing a glance with each other, catching the hesitation in your voice. It was subtle, but they both knew you well enough to notice.

At one point, you used to jump at the chance for pizza nights– especially after a long day of training and now you barely even showed an ounce of interest.

“Okay,” Katie simply nodded and started the ignition of her car up.

The drive back home was quiet, too quiet. The hum of the engine mixed in with the quiet volume of noise in the car filled the silence, but your thoughts were still loud. You couldn’t help but stare out the window, feeling the familiar tightening in your chest.

You hated the fact that they were starting to notice more, it was easier when they didn’t and you could still pretend that things were fine, even if they definitely were not.

You couldn’t ignore the way that your hands trembled slightly from exhaustion or the pounding in your head that had become all too familiar lately.

You just had to pretend for a little while longer.

Back at the house, you immediately make a beeline for your bedroom while muttering something about needing a shower. As soon as you closed the door, you leaned against it and took a deep breath. 

The initial feeling of hunger gnawed at you but you try to shove it aside, heading into the bathroom to splash cold water on your face all while ignoring the mirror, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw.

“Hey kid! We’re gonna watch a film, do you want to come and join us?” Caitlin shouted upstairs to get your attention and you jolted slightly in shock.

“Uh, yeah, I’m coming!” You respond, turning the tap off and dabbing your face with a towel before making your way back into your bedroom, you shove a cosy hoodie on and shove your hair up in a messy bun before you head back downstairs to join the two of them.

“Here she is,” Katie exclaimed, gesturing for you to join them in the living room, “Where just deciding what film to watch, do you have anything you’d like to watch?” She questioned.

“Um, I don’t mind. I’m fine with anything,” You told her, plopping down on the sofa beside them as you listened to the two of them argue about what to watch.

Usually it was pretty comical when that happened, but you didn’t have it in you to laugh this time round.

The tension in the room was thick, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they brought it up again.

After what felt like an eternity, Caitlin broke the silence, “Y/N, we’re worried about you.”

Your stomach dropped and you should have known this was coming, but it still felt like a punch in the gut.

“You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping,” Katie leaned forward, her expression soft but serious, “You don’t seem like yourself, and we know that the pressure is a lot, but you know that you don’t need to carry it all by yourself.”

“I’m fine,” You shook your head, feeling the familiar panic rise in your chest, “I just have a lot going on right now.”

“We get it kid, but starving yourself isn’t the way to handle things,” Caitlins’ tone of voice was gentle but still firm. “There’s better ways to cope.”

You couldn’t help the tears that pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away and refused to let them fall, “I’m not starving myself,” You whispered, trying to convince yourself more than them, “I just… I need to be better. I’m not good enough.”

“Y/N, you’re more than good enough,” Katie’s heart broke at your words as she scooted closer and placed her hand on your knee, “You’re incredible, and not just because of football but because of who you are, okay. You can’t do this to yourself, you can’t push yourself to the point where you’re hurting, kiddo.”

Your resolve was crumbing, you suddenly felt the weight of everything that you’d been holding in starting to break down, “I just… I don’t want to let anyone down,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey, come here,” Caitlin reached over and pulled you into a tight hug, “You’re not letting anyone down, kid. We’re so proud of you– so proud. We just need you to take better care of yourself, and we’re not just talking about football here either. We care about you.”

Burying your face in her shoulder, the tears finally spilled, “I’m scared,” You choked out, “I… I don’t know how to stop.”

Katie soon joined the hug, her arms wrapping around both you and Caitlin, “You don’t have to do it alone,” She paused, “We’re here, we’ll help you, but you need to let us in.”

It felt like for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. To let them see just how scared and overwhelmed you really were, with all the added pressure of things.

It now made you realise that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face it all on your own after all.

You could let them in.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[nurse-buckley]

.

[miley1442111]

(part 3) choices and meetings- a.donaldson

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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

i'll probably do a few more parts of this because it's just so cute and sad :(

summary: the first conversation you two have after the break-up.

pairing: art donaldson x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, allusions to an eating disorder, depression, etc. +

PART 3 of 12

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It had been 4 weeks since the break up. Both of you were miserable but you wouldn’t tell the other. There was no ‘hot guy from your science class’ that you were fucking, you just wanted to make him jealous. 

It did make him jealous. Very jealous. Just the idea of you being with someone else made his skin crawl. He’d essentially gone to every guy in that class to threaten to kill them if they even looked at you, he didn’t care if you weren’t his girlfriend anymore, he just needed some more time. He just needed you.

The only time you two interacted was during tennis sessions. You were being coached by the same person, so he made you do matches against each other. The last 4 weeks had been full of electrifying matches, often ending in Art smashing a racket or you stalking off in anger. 

But you were both playing so well. So, so well.

The matches were difficult and finally challenging. Art had never played so well, he was almost at your level, and even beat you a few times. Though, you were usually better. 

Once the rackets were packed away and you both left the court, it was like a scene in a romcom. Both of you wishing for the other, crying alone over one another, and wanting everything to be different. You regretted breaking up with him, but you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. His forgetfulness, his carelessness, his choices. He regretted breaking your heart. He missed you, your smile, your jokes, your laughs, your pretty face, your cute habits, your hands on his skin, the way you loved him, how he felt loved and wanted. Some things he’d never felt before. You were his first serious relationship, his first love, his first everything.

It came to the day of your final match against Serena O’Brien, an English tennis player. You were ready, you felt good. 

Then you looked into the crowd and saw Art, and everything went to shit. Your mind was clouded, you felt sick, you felt betrayed. Seeing him at school was one thing, that was controlled, you knew you’d see him at school. Seeing him here? Uncontrolled, unknown, and unfair.

You set your sights on the ball. The match started. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “That was some real tennis!” Your coach shouted, ecstatic at your win. The match was hard fought but she didn’t exactly have a chance, not when you were imagining the ball as Art’s face. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, though there was no happiness behind it, no pride in your win. Art walked onto the court behind him, an apologetic smile on his face. Art had noticed your changing habits in recent weeks as he tried to win you back. You were more irritable, less ‘there’, you ate less, you trained more, you stopped doing some of the things you actually enjoyed, like the literature class you just sat in on every Tuesday afternoon, or the cat nursery you used to volunteer at. 

But today, today he had a plan. He would speak to you, tell you he loved you and that he was sorry, then let you go. It’s what you deserved. You deserved someone who didn’t pick anyone else over you. You deserved someone as smart as you. You deserved someone as beautiful as you. You deserved someone as kind as you. You deserved someone as caring as you. You deserved an equal. Art did not see himself as equal to you. 

“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, walking onto the court. “You’re incredible.”

Your face fell. You didn’t want him to think your tennis was ‘incredible’, you wanted him to think you were incredible. “Thank you.”

“Can we talk?” He asked, itching the back of his neck and looking down.

“Sure,” you shrugged. All your anger had left the second you shut the door in his face. It was replaced by hurt and sadness. Feeling like you’re not your boyfriend’s priority is awful. Knowing who his priority actually is was worse. 

Art took your hand tentatively, and led you to the room you’d sat in before the match. He sat on a stack of boxes as you leant against the door beside him. His hand in yours made both of you reminiscent, electrified, and sad, all at the same time. His soft hands felt comfortable, familiar, right. 

Your hand in his felt blasphemous. You were so… perfect, he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve this conservation, he didn’t deserve a moment of your time, yet you gave him it. He didn’t want to ruin it, 

There was a long moment of silence. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he held your hand. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s ok Art, people break up-”

“We don’t. We shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have let it happen, I love you too much for that,” he sniffled and your heart broke in two. Your boy, your sweet, kind Art was crying. 

“I’m such an idiot,” he whispered, looking down at the ground. He was trying to keep it together, but he’d never been good at hiding things when it came to you. Your thumb brushed back and forth on his skin, calming him. It made him cry all the harder, you were so caring, he’d hurt you so much, so deeply. And yet, you showed him a kindness he didn’t believe he deserved. “I’m such a fucking idiot.” 

“Art it just wasn’t working,” you sighed. “It’s alright. It’s no one’s fault.”

“It’s my fault,” He looked up at you with red-rimmed eyes, tears spilling from them. You took your hand and cupped his cheek, wiping them away. He leaned into your touch as if he'd missed it for an eternity. As if  he’d missed you for an eternity. Your hand on his cheek burned straight to his heart. Subconsciously he tried to commit the feeling to memory, in case this was the last time. “It’s all my fault.”

“You can’t beat yourself up about it. What we had was so good for so long. It just… there was too much going on, something had to give,” You bit your bottom lip to try and stop the tears falling from your eyes. The devastated expression on his face broke you. “I love you so much Art, but I’m hurt. So are you. You’ll be alright.” 

Art looked at you again and he started sobbing into your side, wrapping his arms around your waist. You looked up, attempting to preserve your composure. “I’m so sorry,” he cried into your side. “I love you so much. I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too much,” you croaked out. “You’re such a good person.”

That made Art cry harder. You still thought he was a good person after he hurt you. You still thought he deserved your love. You still loved him. You were comforting him, telling him it wasn’t his fault. It was all his fault. He was horrible to you, he was a bad boyfriend. 

“I miss you,” you whispered and his heart stopped. His plan was going awfully. You were too kind, too good for him. You should’ve hated him, yet you didn’t.

“I miss you too,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your hip. 

“This sucks,” you sadly chuckled as you allowed the tears to roll down your face. 

“It does,” he whispered against you. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s alright Art. We’re still friends, we’ll take care of each other, yeah?” You looked down at him and made eye contact. 

“Promise?” He whispered, holding his pinky finger up.

“Promise,” You whispered, interlocking your fingers. “I’m always here for you.”

“I love you,” he stood up beside you, closer than he probably should’ve been. His hands wrapped around your waist and out of pure instinct, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He tasted like salty tears. You wiped his face again, a sad smile on your face. 

“We’re here for each other,” you swore. 

“Always.”

You opened the door behind you and walked out, making it the second hardest thing you’d even done, right after breaking up with him. 

He fell back into his seat, crying silently into his hands, chest heaving, eyes spilling, throat drying. 

He just made it 1000 times worse for himself, and you.

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art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[bratzforchris]

Comfort, M. Sturniolo

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Summary: Matt's been burning out. It's taken a toll on his body and his mind, but luckily, you're always there when he needs you most<3

Pairing: Matt x feminine reader

Warnings: Burnout, mentions of disordered eating and anxiety, panic attack, pet names (baby, pretty/sweet/handsome boy)

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: This was a random little idea I had while I've been out of classes and work sick! Soft hurt/comfort Matt makes me so 💗 Expect a lot of writing this week while I'm on spring break and enjoy this lil story<3

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Being a content creator was an extremely stressful job, and you knew that. You had to constantly be worried about numbers, engagement, and what looks would or would not get you media attention, good or bad. Although it may not be the same as a regular nine-to-five job, it was still incredibly taxing, and that weight was wearing down on your boyfriend roughly and quickly. 

Matt had been teetering on the edge of burnout for a while now, but just chose to ignore it, figuring if he didn’t acknowledge it, it would stay at bay. He knew you could tell; in fact, he knew everyone could tell, but that didn’t stop him from working day and night, constantly editing, pitching ideas to his brothers, and planning new videos. He refused to let you or Nick and Chris help him, not-so-logically thinking he had to ‘pull his weight’. In Matt’s head, Chris was the funny one, Nick was the editor and the smart one, and you had your own job at a local boutique downtown. You all didn’t have time to hear his issues, he thought. 

“Matt? You in here, love?” You knocked on the door to his office, worriedly gnawing on your lip. 

You hadn’t seen your boyfriend since you arrived home from work two hours ago, but you knew he was here because his car was in the driveway. At first, you had left him to his work, figuring he would come out when he was done with his tasks, but now, it was nearing dinnertime, and even the smell of food cooking on the stove wasn’t luring him out. You waited a few beats, not hearing an answer, until you decided to take matters into your own hands. You would never intrude on Matt’s personal space, but truth be told, you missed your boyfriend loads, and you were also slightly worried. 

Matt was hunched over his computer, fingers flying furiously over the keyboard as he typed out an email. He didn’t even look up from the screen until you tapped him on the shoulder, to which you only received a turn of the head and a tired, watery smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Dinner’s ready, baby,” You whispered softly, massaging his shoulders. “I missed you today.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he sighed, rubbing his temples and then turning back to the computer. “I have some stuff to do.”

“Matt, you’ve been in your office since I got home, darling. That was over two hours ago,” You protested gently. “You gotta be hungry, bubba.”

The awful anxiety started to creep into Matt’s mind at your questioning, not because of anything you were doing, but because he knew you were worrying about him, and he didn’t want that. “I ate earlier.” he lied, wincing at how easily the untruth rolled off his tongue. 

“There weren’t any dishes in the sink or the dishwasher and there weren’t any takeout containers. You didn’t eat, love.” You said firmly, but not unkindly. 

You had been noticing for a few weeks now that Matt was eating less and less, abandoning breakfast and usually after dinner dessert in favor of working in his office. You figured the issue would resolve itself after the influencers got out of their ‘busy season’, but here it was, two weeks later and Matt was getting worse, not better. You knew your boyfriend struggled with anxiety even before YouTube, but that wasn’t going to make you brush the issue off. 

“It doesn’t have to be a whole meal, but you need to eat something.” You continued as you massaged his neck and shoulders, him still facing the screen.

Your boyfriend didn’t say anything, and you almost thought he was ignoring you, until he turned to you, blue eyes full of unshed tears. “I can’t,” Matt cried, beginning to choke on held back sobs. “I have so much to do.” 

“Bubba, you can take a break. It’s okay,” You kissed his forehead. “No one is going to be mad at you.”

“But what if I’m not doing enough? What if Nick and Chris think I’m just letting them do all the work? What if…” Matt was cut off by his own shallow breathing, hands moving to fist his feathery brown hair. 

“Matt,” You interjected firmly. “You are panicking. You need to breathe. Copy me.”

Over your year of being with Matt, you had found that a firmer voice with no pet names usually got his attention better than an overly lovey-dovey voice when he was panicking. Matt finally looked at you, his hyperventilating slowing down as he copied your breathing. In for four, out for four. 

“Good boy.” You smiled, gently praising him as he relaxed against his office chair. 

Matt didn’t even argue when you closed out his computer. He just sat back against his chair, massaging his temples. You gently took his hand, leading him to the living room and guiding him to the couch. You knew he needed to eat, but right now, getting him calm and relaxed was the first priority. You sat down on the couch, allowing Matt to lay his head in your lap. You two didn’t speak for quite a while, allowing him to fully calm down first. Finally, you spoke, running a hand across his body and through his hair comfortingly. 

“Do ya wanna talk about it, handsome boy?” You asked kindly.

“I’m just stressed,” Matt sniffled. “I have a lot to do and Nick is already stressed so I tried to help him with editing, and,” he paused to catch his breath as tears rolled down his face. “And some people have been making mean comments about me lately.” he cried.

“Oh honey,” You said sympathetically, kissing his forehead. “I’m so sorry, pretty boy.”

“They say I’m not as entertaining as Nick and Chris cause I’m quiet.” he sobbed softly. 

“Baby, that is the furthest thing from the truth,” You told Matt, kissing his forehead. “You are sweet, kind, and funny. Anyone who says otherwise is a miserable internet troll who takes their problems out on people they don’t even know.”

“Mhm,” Matt sniffled and nodded, curling further into you. All was silent for a while as you cuddled until your boyfriend’s stomach growled. “My belly hurts.” he whimpered. 

You pouted, running your hand over his stomach comfortingly. “It’s probably because you’re hungry and stressed, honey. Those two things don’t mix well. Do you feel like eating some dinner?”

“No.” Matt said flatly, avoiding your eyes. 

“You have to eat, baby. You don’t even have to get up from the couch and it doesn’t have to be a heavy meal, but you have to eat.”

“Fine.” he mumbled, desperately trying not to cry again. 

“I love you, handsome.” You slid out from under him, softly covering him up with a blanket, before kissing his forehead with a little ‘Be right back’. 

You padded into the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar and an apple. You also refilled Matt’s water bottle that had been abandoned on the island with fresh water. Before you went back to the couch, though, you snuck into your shared room and grabbed Matt’s stuffed pug, Mr. Wrinkleton, off the bed. Based on your own anxiety experiences, you knew having a comfort object usually helped, and your boy needed all the help you could offer. 

By the time you made it back to the couch, Matt’s tears had slowed, but he was still visibly sniffling, blankly staring off into space while pulling the blanket closer to his chin. It broke your heart to see him like this, but for now, you were going to focus on comfort; you two could tackle solutions to the problem later. 

“Look who I brought,” You whisper squealed, handing Matt his stuffed animal. “He missed you.”

Your boyfriend smiled softly, clutching the plush animal to his chest. Mr. Wrinkleton had been Matt’s biggest comfort (besides you) for as long as he could remember, and that didn’t change now that he was an adult. He shifted so that you could once again sit down on the couch, before laying his head back in your lap. 

“I brought you some food, too.” You placed the snacks in Matt’s hand, planting a kiss on his forehead. 

Matt didn’t speak much as he chewed thoughtfully on the granola bar and apple. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you; he was just so exhausted that talking seemed like an extra task. Once he had finished, he placed his trash on the coffee table and then turned over so that his face was smushed against your body. You laid in silence for a while until you softly spoke, running a hand through his hair. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked softly. 

Matt shrugged, snuggling further into the blanket. “My stomach still hurts a little. I’m just really stressed.” he said sadly. 

“I have an idea if you’re up for it.” You smiled. 

“And that idea would be?” 

“Come on, I’ll show you,” You gently took Matt’s hand, making sure he had his blanket and stuffed animal and then led him to your shared bedroom. “Lay down on your back.” You instructed. 

Once Matt had gotten himself into a comfortable position, you straddled yourself across his legs and pulled his shirt off, admiring what you saw for a moment. Your boyfriend was gorgeous and toned with tanned skin and a beautiful sleeve of tattoos that you loved to admire. You stole a pump of lotion from the bottle off your nightstand and began to massage his skin, taking extra care to rub his belly gently and massage the knots in your shoulders. 

“God, Matt. Your shoulders are so tense, honey.” You hummed when your hands met a particular knot in his left shoulder. 

In response, your boyfriend let out a soft moan, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the soft pillows of your bed. It sounded sexual, especially since you were straddling him, but Matt didn’t give a damn. The only thing he could focus on right now was the soft glide of your hands against his skin, melting all his worries away. 

Once you had finished your massage, you cuddled up next to him, pulling the covers over both of you. “Did that help a little?” You asked. 

Matt nodded appreciatively, burying his nose in your neck while holding his stuffed animal to his chest. “Mhm.” he mumbled happily. 

“I’m glad, sweet boy,” You whispered, kissing the spot behind his ear. “You know you can always come talk to me when you’re feeling stressed, right baby? I won’t judge you, nor will I ever be too busy for you.”

“I know,” Matt blushed. “I’m going to work on asking for help instead of trying to handle everything alone…” he whispered softly. 

“I’m so proud of you,” You hummed, giving him the soft praise he so heavily deserved. “You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for, you know that?”

“I am pretty great.” the giggle and smile you had been waiting to hear all evening finally crept into Matt’s voice. 

Even when his anxiety and worries got the best of him, he would never lose his ‘Mattitude’, and that was just one reason on a very, very long list that you loved this boy with your whole heart.  

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @oobleoob @idek3000hi @melguilbert

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[iwasntstable]

n.s. | if i'm there

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/IFIMTHERE [projects] ﹂ [my-work] | in-progress | favourites 　﹂ all | series | [one-shot] | blurb | head-cannons | ask 　　﹂ fear-of-failure | nightmare | never-just-friends 　　　 stay-til-morning | new-neighbour | [if-im-there]

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➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔　𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+　　[𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]

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I didn't want to believe how much you needed help / And I just left you to be all by yourself / And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well / But I just came back to see how hard you fell Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall / You'll have a friend down in Hell after all 　　— If I'm There - Bad Omens

summary: when things start getting bad, you withdraw. ignoring calls and texts, and descending into bad habits as you self-isolate. but noah knows what you're like and he loves you too much to let you suffer alone.

content tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, poor mental health, mentions of disordered eating, discussions of food, self-destructive behaviour, fluff.

word count: 3.8k.

note: having a rough time recently so enjoy the self-indulgent product of my stressing. 　　PS: please tell me if the layout of this post is fucked up so I can fix it for you.

Things are getting bad again. You find your sleep schedule sliding later and later, falling asleep in the early hours of the morning and waking in the afternoon, bypassing the day altogether. Meals are becoming infrequent and poor in quality. Appetite dwindling and opting to eat half a bag of microwave rice at 3am rather than dedicating time to creating a nutritious and satisfying meal. Truth be told, you didn’t have the energy to cook anything more, and the malnutrition itself likely played a part in that lack of energy. The trash was left to build up, and the laundry hadn’t been done in weeks.

The progression of all of this was gradual. So gradual, that by the time you recognised what was happening, it was all but too late to stop the rapid descent into your depression. And as the days go by, you start to withdraw into yourself. Messages from friends begin to go unanswered. You tell yourself you’ll reply later, when you have the mental bandwidth to engage in conversation. But later ends up being not at all. Too many days have passed, and you feel like it’s too late to reply now; you don’t know how. That includes your boyfriend.

　　　　　　　　　　　[Noah 💘]

　　　　　　 　　　　　Tuesday 　　　　　　　　　 　　10:45AM

— Morning! Do you wanna call later?    Miss your voice 

          morning! I have a headache —             right now and I feel like it's    ��        not gonna go away :( I'll let                you know though.                 I miss you too ❤️ —

— Aw I'm sorry :( — I hope you feel better soon — Text me later and let me know    how you are ❤️

　　　　　　　　　 　　02:27PM

— Hey babe how are you feeling?

             my head still hurts :( —

— Want me to come over and look    after you? — Have you eaten yet?

       you don't have to do that, I'd be —            shitty company anyway                   just wanna sleep —

— Okay :( — I'll text you later tonight so    you can sleep

　　　　　　　　　 　　10:09PM

— How are you feeling? — Are you sleeping? — Hope you’re resting well. Text    me when you wake up so I know    you’re okay — I love you ❤️ — Goodnight ❤️

　　　　　　 　　　　Wednesday 　　　　　　　　　 　　08:41AM

— Morning, how’re you feeling?

　　　　　　　　　 　　09:13AM

— Are you awake? — Babe, are you okay?

      hey! sorry I was still asleep. I feel a —       little better but my head still hurts :(

— I’m gonna cancel today and come    over — I don’t want you to be alone when    you’re not well 

       no don’t do that, i’m okay really —              you know this happens          sometimes. I just wanna rest,            you don’t have to cancel for        me. not when work is important

— You’re important too — Please let me look after you

          I love you and I love that —           you want to be here for me,         but all I want to do right now                   is sleep

          I don’t want you to cancel —           important schedules just           to watch me sleep all day                I’ll feel better soon.             just need to give it time. —

— I’d cancel to sit and watch you sleep    in a heartbeat — I love you, I just want you to be okay — I have to go, I’ll text you later okay?

         I’ll text you back when I can, —            if I don’t reply I’m probably          asleep so don’t worry have a                good day I love you —

　　　　　　　　　 　　10:26PM

— Hey babe sorry I didn’t text all day I    was so fucking busy — How’re you doing now? — Are you sleeping again?

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 10:31PM]

— Text or call me when you wake up,    even if it’s the middle of the night I’ll    leave my sound on — I love you ❤️

　　　　　　 　　   　　Thursday 　　　　　　　　　 　　08:41AM

— Hey, are you awake?

　　　　　　　　　 　　08:55AM

— Hello??

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 08:59AM]

— Message me when you wake up

　　　　　　　　　 　　12:20PM

— Babe?? — I’m worried — Even if you don’t wanna talk can     you please let me know you’re okay?

　　　　　　　　　 　　12:46PM

— Babe please answer me

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 12:48PM]

　　　　　　　　　 　　01:20PM

     hey, sorry I missed your messages —         I’m okay sorry for worrying you —

— I was just about to come over — I still might — I’m worried about you

           please don’t I just don’t —          wanna see anyone right now

— Even me?

                  I’m sorry —             I’ll text you tomorrow — — If that’s what you want — I love you

　　　　　　　 　   　　　Friday 　　　　　　　　　 　　03:47PM

— I don’t want to bother you, I’m     trying to give you space if that’s    what you need — But I’m worried about you — You haven’t messaged me all day — Did I do something wrong?

　　　　　　　　　 　　04:10PM

— Babe please answer me

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:12PM]

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:15PM]

　　　　　　　　　 　　04:18PM

— Your friends said they haven’t heard    from you in days — What’s going on? You can talk to me. — You don’t have to talk to me if you    don’t want to but text someone back,    please — I just wanna know that you’re okay

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:23PM]

And that’s how Noah ended up outside your door. Banging incessantly and shouting your name through the wood. You could hear him from where you were wrapped up in bed, but you were half hoping he would just drop it and go away. Realising quickly, however, the futility of that hope when you heard another voice join the sound of his. That of your neighbour, the nosy one from the house on the right.

You groan and throw the blanket off yourself, flinching a little when your feet touch the cold floor. You have no choice but to go downstairs, and no time to change your appearance. Hoping to whatever God will listen that Noah doesn’t make a comment on the clothes you’d been wearing for the past week before you can get in the shower and change.

“I’m just really worried about her,” you can hear the unmistakable tone of Noah’s voice through the door before you even open it.

Hesitating for a moment with your hand on the door handle, you decide to eavesdrop on the conversation. “I haven’t seen her for, ohhh let me think... has to be about a week now,” despite the man’s voice wavering with age, it came loud and clear through the door. An unfortunate side effect of his hearing loss.

“A week?!” Noah exclaimed. Having enough of the old man sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, you unlock the door quickly, wrenching it open and taking a surprised Noah by the arm.

“Oh! Nice to see you, dear. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The old man sneers.

“Yeah, nice seeing you, Trevor,” you barely extend him a glance as you drag Noah in through your doorway, slamming the door closed and turning the key. You let out a deep sigh, your palms and forehead resting against the cool wood.

Noah calls your name softly. You squeeze your eyes tight and take in a breath before you turn to face him. Putting on the best phoney smile you can muster.

“Sorry about him, he’s always in everyone’s business. What are you-”

“He said he hasn’t seen you in a week,” he says matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of a smile on his face. “Your friends said they haven’t heard from you in days either, and you’ve been ignoring my texts. And calls.”

Your heart seizes at the sadness in his eyes. He stands there in your front room, his usual sweatpants and hoodie, but he just looks so defeated. You always tell him he looks like an upset puppy when he’s sad, and the puppy-dog eyes are working overtime on you right now. “I told you, I’ve just been busy, and I-”

“And you had a headache, and you missed my texts, and you didn’t want to talk,” his voice was as stern as his expression. You knew he wasn’t an idiot. That there’s no way he’d believe your—at best—flimsy excuses. You stand frozen to the spot, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. Picking at the stitches, trying to distract yourself from the lump forming in your throat. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Noah questions.

You swallow roughly, “I don’t know what you... I don’t-”

He says your name firmly and takes a step towards you, “I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly.”

Feeling your heart begin to race in your chest, you swallow again, but it does nothing to get rid of the tightness in your throat. Or the dizziness creeping up on you.

“Are you doing bad again?” He sounds softer this time, and you almost wish he would just scream at you because when he’s kind and attentive like this, you can’t help but crumble and shut down.

You clench your jaw as your breathing gets quicker, shallower, and you feel the unmistakable burn of tears in your eyes. “I’m fine,” your voice comes out cracked and weak, not at all the sound of someone who's fine. 

“Don’t pretend you’re okay. Please don’t lie to me, because I know you’re not okay!” Noah crosses the room to meet you, holding his hands outstretched towards you, “what can I do for you? Please, I want to help.”

You cover your mouth as you choke back a sob, wrapping your other arm around your middle; you can’t hold it in anymore, and the floodgates open. Gasping for breath that seems to never come, you grip the front of your shirt tight in your fist, the clothing suddenly feeling suffocating and stiflingly hot.

“Oh, baby. Come here,” Noah takes you by the shoulders and pulls you into his chest, where you fall into him and cling onto him like he’s your only lifeline. “I need you to breathe for me, okay? Slowly, in and out,” he strokes soothing circles against your back as he demonstrates to you how to breathe. “Come and sit down here, yeah? The couch is right here.”

You barely register your legs moving for the numbness extending across your entire body, from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. Your tears are hot on your face, and every time you try to wipe them away, they’re just replaced by more in a never-ending stream. The room feels like it’s spinning around you as you move, only worsening the feeling of nausea rising in your throat. The plush cushions of the couch are a welcome relief.

“You’re holding your breath, I need you to breathe. Just how I am, that’s it,” he cradles your head to his chest through your shaky attempts to take in a breath through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth. Your breath hitches uncontrollably with every inhale, taking in tiny bursts of air at a time. Noah, though, has nothing but praise on his lips: “That’s it. You’re doing so well, just listen to my voice.”

You missed his voice. As you worsened and withdrew, you found any excuse to avoid going out to see him, and you had been ignoring his calls for days. You knew you were doing it, and you missed him desperately, but with every day that passed, you found it harder and harder to reach out. It was hard for you to reach out for help in the first place, hard for you to admit to anyone that you needed help. Hard to admit it to yourself. Opting instead to suffer in silence and just push through it until you finally broke. You didn’t know any other way.

The familiar presence of him by your side eases the pace of your racing heart, allowing each breath to come a little easier. A little calmer. “I hate to see you hurting like this,” he whispers into your hair, his hand stroking through it gently, working to soothe the seemingly unquenchable anxiety. “I want to help you, please let me help you.”

It broke your heart to hear the pain in his voice. You never wanted to hurt him, but that’s all you seem to do. That cold hand of dread tightens its grip on your chest again, panic filling your lungs and replacing all the air. “I’m sorry,” you barely choke out, gripping onto Noah tighter. Warring with yourself, wanting to hold him close, but feeling like you need to push him away.

“You don’t need to apologise, ever. I’m here, I’m right here,” he runs his hand up and down your back, cradling you close. He can’t help but notice that through the fabric of your shirt, the bones of your spine are ever so slightly more prominent than before. He keeps his mouth shut. Focussing instead on quelling your distress and holding you tight in his arms. 

“I just- I fuck everything up. I can’t do anything right, I don’t deserve your love, I don’t deserve you-” Once you start talking, you can’t stop, finally letting it all out until Noah cuts you off, incapable of hearing you degrade yourself anymore.

“No. No, that’s not even remotely true. Don’t say that about yourself,” he says firmly, holding you just a little tighter. 

You shake your head against him, “all I do is hurt people and push you away, and I don’t know how to stop. You don’t deserve that, you shouldn’t have to put up with me.”

“I don’t ‘put up with you’. I love you, and I want to be here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

“You shouldn’t have to drop everything to come deal with me when you’re so busy. You deserve someone that isn’t so fucking hard to love.”

With that, Noah pushes you backwards by the shoulders, holding you there so he can look into your eyes when he speaks. “You are not hard to love. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of doing. You just…” He takes a deep breath, cupping your cheek and brushing away the tears from under your eyes. “You just need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”

The image of him blurs when the tears overflow from your eyes again, your face crumpling as you bow your head. “You’ll leave me," your voice shaking with the force of your sobs.

"Why would you ever think I'd leave you?" he asks, dismayed by your fear.

"Everyone always leaves," you tell him, voice brittle and quiet, shaking your head. "It's only a matter of time before you leave too."

"I love you," Noah feels tears prick at his own eyes. "I love you so, so much. And I'm not going anywhere." He lifts your head, once again brushing away your tears so he can look into your eyes, "please trust me to help you."

"I'm just so tired," you confess, and he pulls you into his arms again. 

“I can't promise to fix all your problems, but I can promise you won't have to face them alone. There’s nothing you could do that would drive me away. And the things that would, I know you’d never do,” he runs a comforting hand through your hair as you cry, his other arm secure around your waist. Your tears soak into his shirt, but he doesn’t mind. He wants you to give it all to him—all your sorrows, all your grief—so that he can bear it with you.

You desperately want to believe his words. To lean on him when you need him the most, but that insecure piece inside of you won’t let you yield. You don’t know how to open up to anyone without feeling like a burden.

Noah stays right there with you until the tears subside and your breathing evens out. Your head resting in his lap as he reassuringly strokes your hair, you feel the beginnings of a dull ache in your head that makes you drowsy. He rubs soothing circles into your back with his other hand, shifting slightly to get a better look at your face. “Have you eaten yet today?” He asks tentatively. Feeling your throat constrict under the pressure of guilt, you know you can’t lie to him. You know he sees right through you, so you decide to try being honest by shaking your head. “Want me to cook something for you? Or we can order something? My treat.”

You know he means well, but you don’t know how to say you don’t have an appetite without worrying him. He won’t let you go the entire day without eating, but all you want to do is sleep.

“Please talk to me,” he pleads, “I need to hear you.”

On a shaky breath, you settle for a half truth. “I don’t think there’s anything to cook.”

“That’s fine, we can order food then. What do you want?”

Chewing on your lip, you freeze. The silence stretches on far too long for you to be deciding what restaurant to order from, it’s clear you’re unable to answer.

Noah sighs your name, “you have to eat something.” 

“I know. I just… I just don’t want to,” he remains quiet, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t feel hungry. Thinking about it is overwhelming. I just want to sleep so I don’t have to think about it.”

“What have you been eating these past few days?” He asks cautiously, his tone light. Conscious to not sound accusatory.

You sigh, knowing there’s no way of escaping this. “Microwave stuff, mostly,” you play with the fabric of his sweatpants, feeling his leg underneath, fidgeting your anxiety away. “Rice, oats, ramen. Stuff I don’t have to wash up after.”

“Have you been eating every day?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, the tension only thickening when you answer "no,” barely above a whisper.

You feel him nod. Quiet for a moment until he too speaks so quietly, you almost didn’t hear it. “You can’t go on like this.”

“I know,” you confess.

“Please let me help you.”

The desperation in his voice is what does it—the final straw. You sit up straight, turning to face him. Wiping the residual tears from your cheeks and looking him in the eye. You know it’s time to really be honest. 

“It’s hard for me-” Your voice catches in your throat as the threat of crying again creeps up on you, not quite realising how much your body would resist. Taking a second to compose yourself—a deep breath in, eyes closed, releasing it slowly—your resolve strengthens and you continue. “It’s hard for me to open up to people. To admit when I’m struggling. I’m so used to feeling like I’m burdening everyone with my problems, so I just keep it all to myself. And by the time I realise I’m going down that road again, it’s too late to stop it.”

“It’s never too late,” Noah says reassuringly, tucking both sides of your hair behind your ears—the left first, then the right. “I mean this in the most loving way possible, but you don’t get to decide whether you’re a burden. You don’t get to take that choice away from me. The choice to help you. Your problems will never be a burden to me, no matter how big or small. You will never be a burden to me. I love you. I choose you. And I’ll never think poorly of you for needing help, ever.”

You don’t know what to say. Your eyes fixed on his. One of your favourite things about him is his big brown eyes. Always so full of comfort. So full of love that even you, with all of your self-doubt, can’t deny it. “I’m sorry. I know you said not to apologise, but I think I need to. I’m sorry for making you worry and for pushing you away. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Noah takes your hands in his. Large palms enveloping your own entirely. “Seeing you hurting is what hurts me the most. I love you so much, all I want is for you to be happy and healthy.”

You squeeze his hands in yours, “I love you, Noah. I’ll try harder, I promise. Feeling so unwanted for so long before I met you, I think I didn’t realise just how lucky I am to have you until now.” Noah raises one of your hands, kissing the back firmly and holding it there, savouring the feel of your skin against his lips. Timidly, you ask, “can we get pizza?”

He breaks out into a smile, “of course we can! But you have to text your friends back first," he bargains, "even if it’s just something short.”

“Deal,” you can’t help but return his smile. “My phone is upstairs, I’m just gonna go get it.”

“Wait!” he calls as you stand, pulling you back to the sofa and into him with a hand on the back of your head, “can I kiss you first?”

Without a word, you lean into him, closing the gap between you and feeling his lips on yours for the first time in weeks. That familiar burn of tears threatening to escape your eyes returns, and when you pull away, those beautiful brown eyes are full of concern.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, laughing awkwardly, “happy tears. I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” his smile taking on a more solemn appearance this time. “But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, please don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t forget that I love you too. No matter what happens. No matter how stupidly self-destructive I act.”

Noah pulls you in for one final embrace before letting you retrieve your phone. You spend time texting back each of your friends, apologising for your absence and telling them you were okay, that Noah is here, and you’d explain more later. Noah, sitting at your right, creates your pizza order, periodically asking what else you’d like adding.

The two of you spend the night watching trash TV, settling into your usual comfort and hurling insults at the characters for making stupid decisions while you eat your food. Only realising after it arrived just how hungry you really were. And when you’re finished eating, Noah and you head upstairs.

You feel like a new person after you shower, coming out of the bathroom to find Noah relaxed against your headboard. The sheets on your bed changed, and a fresh set of clothes lay waiting for you to change into for bed.

Accepting finally how much lighter everything feels when someone is around to help you. You slide under the clean sheets, comforted by the warmth of Noah’s body beside you for the first time in too long. And just as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his hand stroking your back, you’re determined to never let things get this bad again. Knowing you need to trust him, because trust is the foundation of love, and you love Noah with every fibre of your being. And despite how hard it is sometimes, you need to let him love you back.

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[samkerrworshipper]

let me love you | Leah Williamson x Reader

a lot of angst, ending in fluff, themes of eating disorders, depression and alcohol abuse, 5900 words

please keep sending request yall i need something to feed my brainnn

i’m stuck on a blurb for this so basically just what happens after a rough moment in r and leah’s relationship, can they fix it? can they learn to love each other again? the photo i’ve used says it all lol

it’s piecy and i think u can see my sleep deprivation in this one but hope you enjoy!

I’d known going into camp that I was in trouble. That as soon as the team doctor did our pre camp exam that I was going to be fucked. With the extensive weight loss I knew that it was only a matter of time before I was approached but I hadn’t expected it to be the first night.

I’d been lying in my bed, in my room by myself. I was rooming with Keira this camp, but luckily enough she spent most of her time in Lucy or Leah’s room so I didn’t see much of her. I’d had the tv playing in the background, to fill the room with something other than the sound of my breathing and the sound of me scrolling through my phone. Then my little bubble, my perfect barrier that I’d created was broken by the resounding noise of someone knocking at my door.

“Y/n, it’s me.”

Sarina. Fuck.

“It’s open.”

It was probably the polite thing to get up and open the door but I was comfortable in my bed and while Sarina was terrifying I couldn’t see her getting mad at me over something so minor. The door cracked open and I switched the tv off out of respect for the manager who had closed my hotel room door behind her. Her face was unsteady, like she was unsure how to approach the conversation, something that I’d never seen on her.

“You missed dinner.”

“I feel asleep, the jetlag has tossed me around a little bit. I didn’t even realise until I woke up twenty minutes ago.”

It wasn’t a lie, I had travelled an obscene amount in the past twenty four hours. I’d flown from Cabo to New York, then spent 20 hours in New York with Kristie and some of the Gotham girls before getting on a plane to take me to Barcelona, where I’d spent a very short eight hours with Keira and Lucy before we got on a plane to London to bring us to camp. It had been hectic to say the least and had resulted in one of my suitcases being lost and me being in a very lengthy back and forth discussion with British Airways about how my luggage had ended up in Austria and that no, I didn’t have the time to go to Austria to retrieve it.

“I think we need to have a talk.”

Sarina’s foot was tapping nervously at her side, it was her tell, she was about to have a hard conversation that was not going to be easy to go over.

“Okay.”

She nodded at me.

“Meeting room 2, five minutes?”

I gulped, fuck, a meeting room. It had gone from informal to a little bit to formal for my liking. I nodded regardless, too scared to reply in any other way.

“Yes Ma’am.”

As soon as Sarina had left my room I was throwing myself out of the bed to throw on some proper clothes and make myself look a little bit more presentable. I threw on my light blue tech fleece and puffer jacket that we all had and then very haphazardly threw my hair into a greasy high pony. I pushed some mascara through my eyelashes and some moisturiser on my skin before coming to the conclusion that no amount of makeup was going to be able to disguise the purple bags under my eyes. Once I was done making myself look a little bit less dead I picked up my phone and keycard from my bedside table and left the room, making my way down the hallway towards the meeting rooms.

The meeting rooms had a multitude of purposes, zoom calls, skypes, video review, contract signing. Business stuff mainly, not a talk with your coach. That was what had me trembling a little bit as I made my way closer to the meeting rooms. When I got to the door of the second one, the one I’d been told to go to I waited outside of it for a few seconds before lifting my fist and knocking twice on the door. I didn’t have to wait long for a reply, Sarina was at the door opening it for me in a matter of seconds. I stepped into the room quickly, my eyes recognising all the faces in the room.

I was directed to a seat at the table, sitting directly across from Sarina, Leah, Millie and our team doctor. Lucy and Keira were seated on either side of me and the whole vibe of the room was enough to tell me that I was royally fucked.

“We are all here to have an open conversation about your recent medical exam.”

I kept my eyes on my own hands, which were resting on the table, playing with the rings that adorned my hands. I couldn’t look up, couldn’t bear to look into the eyes of a woman who a few weeks ago I had loved so intensely and now couldn’t even think about without crying.

“You're here to tell me that I’ve dropped a dangerous amount of weight considering my normal weight class, that I should get some further tests done even though we know that there is nothing medically wrong with me. We’ll beat around the bush a little bit, try to ignore the fact that we all know that you can’t allow me to play when I’ve dropped this much weight and then you’ll send me home.”

Sarina’s jaw was set firmly, I could make out that much as my eyes darted up to the older woman quickly to catch a look at her facial expression.

“Do you want to die Ms y/l/n.”

I was taken aback massively by the question, because who asks a person that question, especially in this context.

“I don’t feel comfortable having this conversation with certain people in the room. I don’t want to die necessarily but living right now isn’t exactly ideal either. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, I’ll admit that, I’m aware. I’ve neglected my body, prioritised other things. I knew walking in here that I’d dropped 2 stone and I wasn’t proud of it. I just went through an intense break up though, I’ve been in Cabo for three weeks, most of which I don’t remember. I know that it’s bad, I know that as an athlete we have expectations but I need some wiggle room, I need you to give me a shot to make this better. Because I honestly believe that in this environment I can fix it, I’ll get the weight back, I’ll get back into therapy or whatever. I’ll give up the bad habits, I just need a period of grace.”

I couldn’t look at Leah, couldn’t let myself out of fear that my brave face would fall and I’d be left in shambles sitting here. I just needed to convince Sarina that I could get my shit together.

She was in front of my brooding for a few minutes, leaving everyone in the room in an awkward silence.

“Everyone out besides Leah and you.”

Fuck.

I watched as everyone else slowly got up, Lucy giving me a reassuring pat on the back before exiting the room.

“I’m giving you both five minutes to explain what the fuck happened between you two, because as much as you both want to make it sound like nothing it isn’t. Everyone can feel it and obviously it's affecting the both of you.”

I still couldn’t look at her, it just hurt.

“Seems like I’m the only one who’s suffering.”

“That’s not true nor fair y/n. Leah’s having her own struggles.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes at the table.

“She’s the one who caused the problems in the first place so I’d call that karma.”

The tension in the room was thick, like a cloud laid over us.

“That’s not fair, you had a part in it as well.”

“I had a part in you kissing Jordan at a party?”

“Jordan kissed me first off, drunkenly, she apologised profusely to both of us when she was sober. You soberly made the decision to kiss fucking Alexia.”

If the tension could have thickened anymore, it did.

“You cheated on me with your ex, I think I can cheat on you with my ex situation.”

“Do you realised how fucked up that whole ideology is? I didn’t want to cheat on you, anyone who was there that night will tell you that I physically pushed Jordan off of me, I didn’t want it to happen. I know it hurts you, but you wouldn’t even hear me out, you didn’t answer my calls or texts. I didn’t know where you went, just heard from Lucy that you’d decided to go abroad for a few weeks and you were turning your phone off. I spent 3 days sitting in Keira’s apartment balling my eyes out because I missed you so much, I haven’t slept properly ever since, I can’t fucking live without you y/n/n.”

Leah was sobbing and it hurt a part of me that I didn’t know existed. I wanted to hug her, wipe the tears from her face and apologise for my stupidity, to make it all better. But I was stubborn as shit and I also hadn’t really forgiven Leah. I hadn’t forgiven myself either.

That night had been the worst one of my life. Seeing Leah making out with Jordan had broken my heart and before I knew it I’d been running out of the bar we’d been celebrating in and calling Ale because she was my person and then she was picking me up and taking me back to my apartment and she was comforting me on our sofa and then we were kissing and Leah was walking in, mascara smeared and tears down her face and then Ale was running out of the apartment. I ended up waiting for Leah to fall asleep before I’d fled. I’d been terrified, my fear response was flight, when I was scared I fled, so that was what I’d done on that godforsaken night.

“I don’t really give a shit who did what. You both fucked up, that’s evident. We have the olympic coming up, Leah you are coming off of an ACL injury and you are going to be our captain, y/n, we need you on top of your game for us to win. I won’t deal with this team being torn into shreds because the both of you are too stubborn to talk about your feelings. Am I understood?”

Both Leah and I nodded meekly at Sarina, the both of us equally terrified of the dutchwoman and the tone of voice she was using towards us, like we were six year olds.

“Y/n, I’ll give you a grace period, two weeks. You’ve got two weeks to show that you can make some improvement in your habits, but there will be conditions if you wish to continue training and playing during those two weeks. You will eat every single meal, with the rest of the team. You aren’t going to work out beyond our team scheduled gym sessions. You will go back to talking to a therapist on a weekly basis. You are going to socialise with your teammates instead of holding yourself up in your room by yourself. You and Leah will room together until you can prove to me that you can be civil. If any of these conditions are broken you will find yourself sidelined, am I understood?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Sarina nodded at me, her blue eyes staring intensely into my own, I was trying to get away from this situation, away from the confrontation that was only bound to get worse the longer Leah and I were stuck in a room together.

“You are free to go, I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow morning.”

I’d given Sarina a quick nod before bolting out of my seat and straight out of the room. I was pretty sure I’d had the worst 96 hours of my life. My whole body felt like it was on fire, my hair and face were still greasy from all of the airplane travel and my eyes just hurt. I half jogged my way back to my room, slamming and locking the door behind me almost as soon as I’d closed the door behind me. I slowly slid down against the solid wood, this whole situation was so fucked.

Not only did I have to focus on being fucking civil with a woman who I hated, I had to fucking turn my whole life around in a matter of two weeks, which right now seemed pretty fucking impossible. I wasn’t a person who cried very often, I wasn’t in touch with my emotions like that. But right now, fat, warm, wet tears were dripping down my face and my lip was wobbling between my two front teeth trying to suppress the sobs that were coming up from my throat. Love hurt. Loving someone and being loved is one of the hardest things that I’d ever done, because it’s not easy to spend every day loving a person, it fulfilling but it also is so fucking painful.

I could hardly make up the energy to get off the floor, so I didn’t. I sat against the door, crying, shaking and trembling as I let out the feelings that I’d built up for the last month. I was a person who didn’t cry very often, when I was drunk, when someone died, when I was really hurt. That was the extent of my emotional release. Leah was similar, that’s why we’d hit it off, neither of us were over emotional, we didn’t read into things and we didn’t over complicate anything. At the end of the day neither of us had to worry about the other one getting offended by a joke or drunken words. I’d honestly believed we were soulmates, for a long time, but that night had wrecked it all.

Both of us had been stupid, it had been the celebratory night of our win in the Nations League, we’d beaten Spain, it was a big deal. Everyone was completely wasted and I didn’t remember much of the night until Leah had been on the dance floor with Jordan, Chloe, Millie, Rachel and some other teammates and one moment Leah is motioning for me to join me and the next Jordan is making out with her and I’m running out with Lucy following me. Then Lucy called Ale because I’d locked myself in our hotel room ensuite. Then Ale was there and she was comforting me and hugging me and I was pissed off at Leah and then I was kissing Ale and she was telling me no and the Leah walked in to comfort me and it was just a fucking mess of alcohol and emotions.

Just thinking about that night had hurt, I hadn’t let myself in the last month. Not when I’d been in Cabo drinking all day and night, clubbing and partying and spending all of my spare time trying to push my emotions away. Then I’d gotten the call from Sarina, I’d been expecting it but it had still shocked me for some reason. In a matter of 24 hours I’d been packing up all my shit and hopping on a plane back to the one place that I couldn’t have been more desperate to avoid. I’d contemplated turning down the call up, but a call from my agent had told me that I couldn’t expect an invite back if I turned one down now. The Olympics was a big deal as well, it was something that I did want to do but the overwhelming anxiety I had felt being faced with the reality that I was walking into a group of people that worshipped the ground that my ex girlfriend walked on.

My thought pattern was interrupted by the sound of knocking directly above my head. The sound pulsated against the wood and across my body, seeping deep into my bones. It was a resounding knock, loud, echoing across the room.

“Y/n, open up.”

It was the voice that I least wanted to hear at that moment and I tried my hardest to ignore it but the sound of the knocking repeating made it harder.

“Y/n/n, c’mon, open the door, I know you're in there.”

It was the nickname that only she called me, a nickname I hadn’t heard in a month and it hurt my soul hearing it. It made fresher tears fall from my eyes that I rubbed at furiously with the sleeve of my jumper. I wiped as much of the smudged mascara and tears from my face, I knew subconsciously that my eyes were red and puffy and Leah would one hundred percent be able to tell. For my dignity though I rubbed it all from my face before standing up and opened the door.

Before I could say anything Leah had slipped past me and into the room, making herself at home and sitting down on Keira’s bed, resting herself at the very top so she was leaning against the headboard. I pushed down any thoughts that I had about Leah being in the same position in our own bed, except with a lot less clothes covering her body.

“You’ve been crying.”

It wasn’t a question, a statement, but it held a question in it somewhere. Leah wasn’t used to me crying, so the fact that I was crying was probably a little bit of a shock to her.

“What do you want?”

Leah pouted at me, sarcastically, it pissed me off how confident she was when I felt like I was tearing at the seams.

“In case you didn’t remember, we’re roomies now. I wanted to talk, I think we both have stuff we need to get off of our chests. I love you y/n/n and I’m worried about you.”

“Go worry about Jordan.”

I was leaning against the dresser, trying my hardest to keep my shit together in front of the woman that was making me feel so many things that I had been denying myself for a month.

“That’s fair, but also not necessary. I didn’t kiss her y/n, I didn’t even get as close as a metre’s distance from her, anyone there could tell you that. I pushed her off me. So yes, she kissed me, without my consent or my desire for her to do so. I love you, not her. I promise you that. She means nothing to me beyond being my friend, I don’t love her.”

I didn’t really know what to say. Leah wasn’t really the root of my anger, because I knew that it had been Jordan all over Leah, and at the end of the day she’d come to my room that night to apologise instead of going back to Jordan’s, I was her priority.

“She loves you, and I can’t do anything about that. That hurts and I know that it shouldn’t, I have no right to be jealous but it hurts.”

Leah looked contemplatively at me, like she was trying to understand what I was saying but knew that she couldn’t really.

“Do you love Alexia?”

I gulped, that was a fucked up question that I didn’t have a answer for. My immediate silence gave enough context to that.

“That’s not a fair question.”

I was deflecting and also furiously toying with a loose thread on the edge of my jumper.

“I think I deserve to know if the woman I love loves me the same way.”

It was hard hearing those words come out of her mouth as well.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t love her. I dated her for six years, I thought I was going to marry her. I don’t love her like I loved you. We broke up because we couldn’t love each other that way. It was a surface relationship, but we both knew at the end of the day that we couldn’t get married or have kids or get old together, we didn’t love each other like that. We didn’t have a messy break up, I didn’t have a phase where I hated her and I wanted nothing more than to be away from her. We just stopped physically loving each other. She’s still my person Leah, you know that. I regret kissing her, I was so drunk and I was so fucking upset and she was so familiar to me in that moment. So maybe I do love her, in some fucked up way, but I don’t love her long term. She’s not the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life loving, not the person that I want to wake up next to, not the person that I want to write vows for, not the person that I want to be with every minute of every day. I don’t yearn for her.”

I realised now that there were tears in Leah’s eyes, which shocked me a little. Leah never cried, I could count the amount of times I’d seen her properly sob on one hand. Four times. When we won the Euros, when she did her ACL, when she woke up from ACL surgery and that night when it had all happened. Apart from that she was a brick wall, she wore a facade everyday, that very little people got to see broken down. I considered myself very grateful to have been able to see past it, to see the side of Leah that not a lot did. She’d let a stray tear go every once in a while, but proper crying, proper emotional, vulnerable crying was very rare to see.

“Do you love me long term?”

“Leah, that's not a fair question either.”

Tears were running down Leah’s face, similar to the tears that had been falling down my face less than five minutes ago.

“It's not fair? I’ve been here for the last month y/n, wondering if we still stand a chance. Wondering if you still love me, wondering if I should wait around for you? I want to know if you still love me as much as I love you.”

I could feel more tears coming to my eyes, Leah was sitting not even three metres away from me and yet it felt like we were oceans apart.

“I don’t know. Does it really matter?”

Leah was wiping at her face, she detested vulnerability and it was clear in her actions.

“Does it matter? Y/n/n, I am trying to figure out if I am going to spend the rest of my life fucking mourning losing the love of my life. I want to know if I stand a chance, if there is something here that we can salvage, something here that we can try and fix. I will spend everyday making it up to you if I have to, anything you need us to do I am down to do it.”

I shifted from toe to toe in my spot standing, Leah’s words were so genuine, they had so much power over me, sent shivers down my whole body.

“I love you. I love you enough though to tell you that I’m a fucking wreck, some of it’s because of this, some of it is just me. Leah I’m trying to fucking sort myself out now and I love you but I’m not going to tell you that your my priority right now, I love you but I also am trying to learn how to love myself and I’m also trying to learn how to love my sport again.”

Leah pursed her lips, wiping the last of her emotional admission tears from her face. She looked so raw, her blonde hair was thrown up in a messy high bun, an unusual look for her, her face was stripped bare of any makeup and her jumper looked a tad bit too big on her. She looked stripped, stripped of her dignity, stripped of her facade, stripped of everything that made her Leah motherfucking Williamson. I wasn’t looking at England’s captain, I wasn’t looking at Arsenal and England’s world class defenders. I was looking at just Leah. The Leah who would wake me up with forehead kisses every morning, the Leah who would give me foot massages after a rough training, the Leah who would only look at me in a room full of people.

“I’ve worried about you so much that I started to get scared I was praying. You took off and I didn’t know with who or where. I mean I know that I fucked up but y/n/n, we could have talked it out, or we could have tried to. You fled and you didn’t even give me a goodbye. I didn’t know if we were done or if I was ever going to see you again and it fucking broke me. I stayed in bed for a week, I didn’t eat, I didn’t leave. Keira and Lucy literally had to drag me out of bed to get me to do anything. I cried, non stop for a week, it was horrible and I felt like shit. Then Lucy got Alexia to come over and we talked it out and she told me that she didn’t mean for it to happen and all she wanted was for us to be happy and it broke me because how am I supposed to be happy when the woman I love is nowhere to be seen.”

A sob echoed from her chest and it broke my heart, because I hated seeing Leah in pain, I hated seeing her hurt. When she’d done her ACL it had been the most gut wrenching thing I’d had to witness. The only difference was that now I was the source of pain and it hurt ten times more.

I pushed myself off of the dresser and towards the bed. Leah’s head was buried in her hands, her elbows resting on her knees as her palms rubbed furiously at her eyes. I sat down onto the bed and pushed myself up against the headboard beside her, putting one of my arms down on her shoulders and gently nudging her head into my neck. It was uncharted territory but also felt so familiar and right. Hearing Leah’s sobs hurt my soul, but my contact seemed to calm her a little bit. She flinched away initially, unsure but then she was seeking it out, leaving into me and everything about it felt right.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry for what happened with Jordan, I’m sorry if I didn’t make you feel loved, I’m sorry if I didn’t treat you well enough, I’m sorry if I’m not good enough. I’m trying to work on it, I’m trying to be better,” I stopped Leah before she could say much more.

“It’s not your fault Leah,” My voice came out with exasperation, because I hated that Leah felt that way,

“You made me feel loved everyday, you treated me perfectly. You are perfect Leah, you were a perfect girlfriend, a perfect captain, a perfect person. We had our moments but you are a good person, you don’t need to be better. I’m the one who can’t fucking handle herself, who had to flee the country when it got rough and I’m sorry for that, I’m sorry that I ran when it got hard.”

Hearing Leah hiccup on her breath was so painful for me, painful enough that I reached my hand down to her face to try and wipe some of the tears off of her cheeks.

“C’mon, you're too pretty to be crying.”

It was a weak compliment that died with the mood of the room, Leah let out a depressing laugh that honestly just made it all worse but her sobs did quieten down a little bit and I noticed that the tremors that were haunting her whole body had slowed down and had become less of a repetitive pattern.

“You haven’t been eating, you lost two stones, did I do that to you?”

Leah’s voice was so shaky, so insanely innate for her.

“Me not eating has nothing to do with you and I won’t have you taking the blame for it. Not everything is your fault Leah and you don’t have to take the blame for it all. I know how your brain works, that you are going to take the blame for everything that has happened between us, but it’s not your fault, a lot of it is mine, my eating habits though have nothing to do with you.”

My voice was a mixture of steady and stern, I had a point to get across and I needed Leah to understand that, I needed her to know that. She wasn’t as fearless and brave as she constantly tried to prove to anyone, she was always the first to blame herself for anything, always getting down on herself and I knew that, I knew that Leah could send herself into a downward spiral.

She pulled her head out of my shoulder and locked eyes with me, her dark brown eyes felt like they were violating me, I felt like I was naked under her gaze, like I was so incredibly vulnerable.

“Why haven’t you been eating?”

I felt like I was under a magnifying glass, like Leah could see every single part of me and could see into my brain. She always worried about me, always. To the point where sometimes it was concerning, I had as much as a sniffle and she was doting over me like my mother.

“I’m fine Lee.”

“If you were fine you wouldn’t have lost two stones.”

She could read me too easily and she knew that I was pretty much putty in her hands as soon as she started talking.

“It got dark for me when I left, I needed to leave but then I was gone and I realised that I was so alone and I was partying to try and avoid my feelings and it worked but you know how I am when I’m depressed, I stop eating, I stop functioning. I lived off of alcohol for three weeks and then I got the call from Sarina and for the first time in three weeks I was completely sober and it hit me like a freight train. I realised how bad it had gotten and I was in shambles.”

Leah nodded at me, she knew how I worked, knew that when I was starting to spiral I tended to push it all down until it got so bad that I had a nervous breakdown.

“You need to eat, we need you playing, I need you on the field. It broke my heart when Sarina came and told me, when she asked me if I’d seen any of the warning signs or if I’d noticed and I couldn’t give her an answer.”

I brought my hand back up to rest on Leah’s face, she was still shaking, still hiccuping with every word that she said. I pushed the tears that were pooling on her face away with the pad of my thumb.

“I couldn’t even tell her anything.”

Leah’s words were thrown out between choken sobs and hiccups, it was so strung out and painful that I felt it in my chest.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that, I’m sorry I deserted you. I’m so sorry I hurt you Lee, you deserve better, you deserve someone who has their shit together.”

Leah pulled herself out from beside me and scooted herself so she was sitting in front of me, between my legs looking at me directly.

“I want you though, I want to love you and I want you to let me.”

I couldn’t do much more than look at her, look at her eyes, look at how heartbroken they were. They were full of so much pain, so many sleepless nights and a part of me wanted to fix some of that.

“Let us be happy, let all of this devastation come to an end and just let us be happy. We’ll work through what happened, we can try therapy, or something else. I want you though y/n/n, I want you forever and I don’t want us to give up on that because of some stupid shit that happened when we were drunk.”

Those fucking eyes, they held the sun and the moon, they had the power to make me do anything.

“I want to try, for us. I still think that you are my forever Leah. I just don’t want either of us to get hurt in the process.”

“Love hurts, we work through it. Please just try it for me.”

Her lip was wobbling in between her teeth and it took every single piece of self control I had to not take that lip in my own and just kiss the woman like I wanted to.

“Okay.”

Leah’s face lit up almost immediately, like a kid in a candy store. She leant in towards me, her lips hovering centimetres away from my own and her eyes looking into my own and it took literally every piece of my self control not to initiate anything.

“Is this okay?”

Leah’s voice was calmer this time, less rough on the edges, less broken. I nodded eagerly at her and relaxed into her body as she pressed her lips to mine. It was soft, tender, relaxing, so perfect.

“How about this?”

It was murmured against my lips, a small smirk forming along Leah’s lips.

“So good, but I think we are both overdue for some sleep.”

Leah frowned against my lips but nodded, we were both tired and it was obvious in our actions. She plopped herself down next to me, relaxing into my body and laying her head against my chest.

“Flick the lamp of love.”

The term of endearment sent a shiver down my back, it was so normal and yet so shocking to me. I obeyed her immediately, turning over to the bedside lamp and flicking it off so we were left in the dark. I shrugged my jacket off before relaxing down into the pillow. Leah shifted around for a few seconds, finding a comfortable spot on my body before stilling herself. She looked so small curled up against me, I tugged her hair out of its bun and rubbed her roots just the way I knew she liked me too and rubbed her back the way I knew sent her straight to sleep. It probably took not even a minute before Leah’s body relaxed fully and her breaths evened out and when they did I smiled a little bit looking at her exhausted form. I leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before relaxing myself fully against the pillows and preparing myself for my own sleep.

“I love you Leah, always.”

[cevansbrat0007]

Jiggly

Summary: You find yourself feeling a little self-conscious after it becomes clear you've gained a little weight.

Warnings: Insecure Reader, Ari Being A Menace, Discussions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Smut (Heavily Implied), Oral Sex (Fem Rec Implied), Light Spanking, Cursing, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Talk of Potentially Abusive Exes, Brief Discussion of Murder, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @curls-and-eyeliner and @dc41896. This story will more than likely take place in my upcoming Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

___

“Lemme see.” 

“Seriously, Ari?” You mumble, throwing your arms over your face. “Ari–no!” Your man’s eagerness has you almost immediately second guessing yourself as you hastily go back to protecting your middle. 

“Why not?” Your man purrs, nuzzling the fabric of your threadbare flannel shirt with the tip of his nose. It was your favorite thing to wear when you felt like this. Not because it was exceptionally cute, but because it was comfortable.

Nevermind the fact that it had once belonged to Ari. And that you usually only wore it when he was away on a job and you were missing him.   

“I just wanna see what all this fuss is about, Bird.”

“I already told you.” The words are spoken in a huff. After a brief debate, you decide to take advantage of the element of surprise and flip your positions so that you’re straddling him. “I’m feeling a little jiggly.”  

“Right, you’re…jiggly.” A small snort slips from his mouth before he can compose himself. “I heard what you said the first three times you said it. Didn’t make a lick of sense then and it doesn’t make any now.” 

Annoying bastard. Not everyone could walk around all day sporting washboard abs. Especially not a girl like you whose passion for baking was almost as big as her passion for books.

“Oh, shut up.” You grunt, rolling your eyes as you go to pin his hands above his head. 

“I’m just pointing out that my ears are working fine.” He picks that moment to buck his hips, almost knocking you off your perch. Somehow you manage to steady yourself, but it’s absolutely easier said than done.

“Hold still, Levinson!”

“Looks to me like you’re the one doing all the moving.” Ari’s hearty chuckle has you redoubling your efforts to hold him hostage. “Although, I can’t say I’m complaining.” He purrs, his lidded gaze straying to your now-heaving chest. “But I really think our next move should be gettin’ you outta that shirt.”

Fat chance of that one, pal. The last thing you wanted was to be naked in front of him right now. Sunlight wasn't known for being slimming.

“Nope.” 

“I vote yes.” Ari twists his big body, jerking against your hold. “And while you’re at it you can lose the shorts too, along with the panties.” 

“But I’m not wearing any.” The words tumble out faster than you can stop them. It’s enough to have you mentally slapping yourself in the face.

“Even better.” The feral gleam in his eyes sends sparks shooting straight to your core. “I’m a simple man, baby. And giving me easy access to that sweet pussy is the quickest way to my heart.” 

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a surprise that you don’t lose them. As it was, your flimsy shorts were already riding up your ass in a way that was kind of uncomfortable. Mostly because your man wouldn’t stay still.

“Bird, what have I told you about rolling your eyes at me?” The soft, silky timbre of his voice has alarm bells sounding in your head.

“Um…” Now, that one has you at a loss. And not because you didn’t know the answer to his question.

In the past, Ari had explicitly warned you not to do it. Not unless you wanted him to give you a few reasons to keep ‘em rolling. Specifically in the form of his thick, hard cock. Because while your man was usually more than willing to put up with quite a bit of sass from you...

There was just something about rolling your eyes that pissed him off. In fact, the last time you’d done it you’d found yourself bent over the couch with a sore ass and him balls deep inside you.

Granted you’d also been in the middle of a fight, but that was neither here nor there. 

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” 

“Bite me.” You snap, your mouth once again moving faster than your brain. Fuck, you needed to get a handle on that.  

Ari has you on your back in a flash. He looms over you, careful not to give you his full weight. It went without saying that you were well on your way to getting yourself in trouble with your man.

Him and stupid rules about maintaining proper eye eye contact and refusing to tolerate your brand of self-deprecating talk. He always maintained that if he ever found himself wanting one of those rail-thin Hollywood types over you, he’d go see about getting his head checked out. 

To him you were gorgeous. Not because of or in spite of your curves. But because you were you. 

“Where’s all this sass coming from?” Ari asks, shaking his head as his nimble fingers begin the work of unfastening your flannel. “It can’t all be because you’re feeling squishy.”

“Jiggly.” You correct him gently, your heart speeding up as he slowly unfastens one button, and then another. 

“My mistake, Duchess.” And there was his other nickname for you; the one you’d earned yourself during your very first meeting. “I just don’t like seeing my girl upset – especially not when she’s been walking around my place all day looking good enough to eat.”

Soon you’re down another button, but you hardly notice this time. You’re too busy getting lost in his sparkling blue eyes.

Only a few more to go. Frankly, the only reason Ari hadn’t ripped the damn thing was because he knew just attached you were to it. And he didn’t want to risk upsetting you further.    

“I’m sorry.” You try, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. While your boyfriend doesn’t say anything, the apology does manage to earn you a kiss. Even though it’s nothing more than a faint brush of his mouth over yours. 

“Swear to God, baby.” Ari hums as he resumes the delicate task of divesting you of your clothes. “If I ever meet the man responsible for planting all those ugly thoughts in the beautiful mind of yours…” Once all the buttons are finally undone, he parts the edges of the worn fabric, exposing your bare breasts.

“Ari…”

“I’ll fucking kill him.” His dark gaze locks with yours, making it clear that he’s not joking.   

“Beast…” A shiver courses through you, the cool air making your nipples pebble. “This has nothing to do with him. My clothes have been feeling a little snug lately, but then I stepped on the scale this morning and it confirmed everything. I’ve probably just been eating too much.”

“Bullshit. I’ve seen how much you eat.” The tick in his bearded jaw has you glad your ex no longer lived in the same county as you. “Some days it’s still nowhere near enough. Might as well be a bunch of birdseed. And since when do I even own a fucking scale?” 

Since you’d relocated it from your house to his. But your man doesn’t even give you time to respond. He’s already decided on its new home.

“It’s going in the trash, Bird.” Ari growls, his tone dripping with authority. 

“But I need –”

“What you need to do is not worry about counting every single calorie in every tiny bite of food you put in your mouth all the damn time.” His big hands go to frame your face as he forces himself to take a calming breath. “Because I remember what it was like back then, when you were too nervous to even eat in front of me.” 

Shit. You did too. You’d been so worried that he’d make some remark about how much food you were putting in your mouth or on your plate that you’d done your damndest to avoid eating in front of him altogether.  

“And I will not let us go back to that place, baby. I just won’t.” Ari’s head dips once more – this time his tongue sweeping past your lips to tenderly dance with your own as he pours every ounce of love he can into the kiss. He groans when he finally feels you relax beneath him, almost as if he’s savoring your submission. “You have my fucking word.” He murmurs once he finally lets you up for air.   

“I think that maybe I just need to eat more salads.” You tell him as your toes begin to curl. At the same time, a delicious warmth pools in your belly as your man begin’s trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses down your body. Your fingers sink into his chestnut tresses, lightly ruffling the strands.   

“Eat whatever the fuck you want.” Comes his swift rebuttal, his sharp teeth grazing over your pouting nipple.

“Bu–but…then my clothes might not fit.” A hiss of breath escapes as his kisses continue to move further south. “Like, at all.”

“Then we’ll just have to buy you some more goddamned clothes then, won’t we?” Ari snarls before pausing his hedonistic assault to glare up at you. When you don’t respond immediately, one of his hands finds your chin – gripping it with just enough force to let you know he means business. 

Your man was also the type who liked to hear an answer when he asked a question. And that wasn’t something that only applied to you. It was true for everyone. He didn’t talk just to hear himself speak.

“Yes, Sir.” To be fair, it was hard to argue with your boyfriend’s logic. And if he wanted to spend his hard-earned money he’d made off of chasing bad guys, then perhaps you’d ought to let him. 

The last thing you needed was him off pouting in the corner somewhere. He was a sizable enough menace already. He didn’t need the extra help.

“Thank you.” He grumbles, shifting his attention to what’s left of your clothes. Namely, your shorts. The ones Ari wasn’t too keen on you wearing out of the house on account of the fact that they barely covered your ass. Shaking his head, he eases the thin material down your thighs before tossing them over his shoulder. 

Now you were well and truly naked – completely at the mercy of your still fully-clothed Beast.

“Show me what’s mine, please.” Ari rasps, nudging your thighs apart. In the mood to obey, you let them fall open, putting your glistening cunt on  display. “There’s a good girl.” His fingers reach out to brush over your sensitive folds, making you whimper. 

Feeling brave, your hand shoots out to wrap around his thick wrist. “Wait. I was thinking I’d like to, um…makeup for upsetting you a little bit ago.”

“Really, Bird? You wanna make it up to me?” He maneuvers himself on the bed so that he can help you sit up. Nodding, you move to reach for him – intending to remove his t-shirt. Only to be surprised when Ari stops you. 

“But I want it off.” You whine, poking out your lower lip. “You’re not playing fair.”

“That’s because we’re not playing. If you wanna make it up to me then you’re just gonna have to do what I say.” He smooths a thumb across the wrinkles in your brow. “You can suck me off later. After you’ve fed me.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” Grinning, Ari goes to lie flat on his back, his muscled arms coming to rest behind his head. “Now bring your sweet ass over here and sit on my face.” He pats his chest for good measure, licking his lips in anticipation. “And I mean all the way down.”

“But what if I –” Your stream of consciousness is interrupted by Ari tugging you forward. He grips your thighs, his slightly calloused palms tenderly kneading your flesh as he urges you up his body in the direction of his waiting mouth. 

This position always makes you nervous – regardless of whether or not you’d had to jump into your jeans that morning. 

“You just let me worry about all those pesky what-ifs.” Your man grunts, letting it be known that the only way to satisfy him right now is to submit. He spanks your ass when you hover too long above his face. “The only thing you need to be concerned about is how I’m gonna redden that ass if you don’t do as you’re told and sit all the way down.”

You feel your face flush as your empty walls clench. Your body was feeling more than a little needy. You were craving your man's cock like the drug that it was. But before you got what you wanted, you'd have to make a couple of concessions first.

Starting with this one...       

“I mean it, Bird.” He growls, delivering a sharp smack. “All the way down, please. I’m not worried about being able to breathe.” You jump when you receive another smack for your trouble. “Besides, if it’s my time to go…then I’d much rather go out with the taste of you on my tongue.” 

"Now let's see just how many you can give me."

END

[h5eavenly]

Carousel┃H.HJ SMAU

Fifty-Three - I was made for loving you.

warnings: mentions of weight, disordered eating. wc; 4.9k

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Hyunjin doesn’t get to think about how he ends up in front of your door, doesn’t get to comprehend the impulsive thoughts invading his mind. Not when he’s only known himself as a follower, so he follows, he follows where he knows you’ll be and maybe that’s why when he’s faced with his reality, he’s only capable of blaming you. For the ache in his heart, the fire he feels running alongside his blood and the recklessness coated by love that douses his actions. He blames you for everything even when his dignity curls by the corner and it disdained him. Weak, was it his lack of power or his faux hatred for you?

He tells himself he should leave, the small remaining bone of logical thinking tells him, screams that this is a bad idea, and he wholeheartedly agrees but his legs won’t listen to him, stubbornly glued to the floors of your familiar doorway in desperation and whispers of ‘I love you’s that had fallen from your lips right into his heart on this same spot. He sees it all, the phantoms of you kissing and then you’re smiling at him with your honey-soaked lips, dripping with unyielding affection that only ever manifests for him, in front of him as you tell him.

“I’ll wait for you,” and he feels like crying, or maybe he feels more like dying. He’ll ask you to bury him with your hands, right next to your dead flowers of love. Perhaps only then you’ll be able to witness the pain your name leaves on his heart, its scratched and blue. but he still misses you and it’s nothing less than pathetic. Mundane madness.

If he’s not allowed to die then he wishes he could break free of this leftover self-respect and allow himself to break down at your door, ugly and valiant and filled with piteous desires that you’ll take him. Right into your arms and through the gates of your so-called heaven. If he’s not allowed to die then he’ll kneel and beg you for an escape from you, any sort of drug that will help him numb you. maybe if you allow him to become one with you, mesh himself with your bones and your blood he will feel nothing but love for you, maybe if you drive him further into his awaited craziness this will all be okay, and he won’t have to see you whenever he closes his eyes.

It’s a maybe followed by another maybe and maybe and he feels nothing but overflowing pain the longer he stands here.

You’re nothing but hell so how come his heart has grown to be a masochist? yearning to be burned by your gentle wandering touches.

He wonders if his masculine pride is getting secondhand embarrassment of his soul crushing devotion for you. However, his thoughts are stuck on that point when you open the door as if somehow you knew he’s waiting outside. You’re shrouded in one of his old hoodies, one that he forgot behind when he packed his stuff and didn’t have the courage to face you once more to ask for it back. Or perhaps it’s simply a purposeful blunder to leave you with a piece of him in hopes it will haunt you.

His gaze is somber as they study the dark circles under your eyes and the red rimming your once glowing eyes, evidence of the tears that you shed not long ago. You’re pale, almost sickeningly so, fragile, and thinner than he had ever seen you. a part of him is almost glad he’s not the only one withering away with your dying garden of love.

“Hyunjin...” you’re the first to speak, in opposite to his, your gaze is surprised mimicking your tone. He doesn’t look like himself, but rather a ghost of what was once him. He’s the same man who crawled into your bed at night, the same man who littered kisses down your neck yet it’s not him. It was an ebbing version of him, one that had similar darkening circles to yours, exhaustion that had his back curved in a slouch, evidence of yet another crime you committed, a knife plunged into his heart and his blood on your hands. It makes you sick to your stomach.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, softly and tentatively.

And he closes his eyes at your voice, hoping it’s enough to cover the ears of his heart. To block out the reminiscences of you and how your voice manages to pull him right into the field of you he tries so hard to run away from. But everything leads back to you, in hindsight he’s sure you’ve made your mark on his fate like a plague. He has no choice but to be an extension of you, roaming around in hopes to be reunited with his home one day.

When he opens them, pain torrents from your eyes and he feels like glass, not like the expensive little statues you have around your apartment, but rather cheap, debilitated and easily broken with the delicacy you’re covered in when you call his name. No one will ever call him this softly, no one could ever be as cruel as you.

“Is it true?” he asks, ignoring your question because there’s no logical answer he could give. There’s no answer that won’t break him.

“w-what is true?” you ask. Voice weakened by your quiet nerves.

“Is it true that your dad is setting you up on dates and you agreed?” The frost in his voice melts as he spits each syllable out, replaced with unjust anger.

“Who told you this?”

“Does it fucking matter? Just tell me if it’s true or not.”

You grow quiet, your silence only plunges the knife further into his heart and the way your eyebrows furrow in a way too familiar conquest. Your futile attempts to string together a sentence is like grey clouds collecting above his head, leaving him foggy and stormy. So, he scoffs.

“So, was it all lies again? Your whole speech about how you’ll never give up on us how you’ll keep trying. It all meant nothing to you, didn’t it?”

“you’re being unfair Hyunjin.” You shake your head, a fresh set of tears collects in your waterline, and it only angers him, pushes him further into the abyss. He’s overwhelmed with the emotions raining on him “Am I supposed to sit still and wait for you forever when you’ve made it so clear you don’t want me anymore?” It’s all lies because deep down you know you will wait for him forever if you need to.

Sadness, anger, disappointment, it’s an endless symphony of terror that has him locked up and the key is in your hands. You’re refusing to let up and he refuses to come undone before your eyes.

“Do you want to know what’s fucking unfair Y/N?” you look away, the pain taking claim in his iris is enough to have you choking, it’s excruciating so your eyes run away but then he’s all up in your face, ruthless fingers gripping your jaw as he forces you to face him.

“Placing bets on people’s heart as if they’re puppets and not human beings,” his breath hits your cheek like little knifes and each one scratches with ferocious hatred “lying to me while looking me straight in the eye, playing games behind my back when I asked you time and time if there’s anything I should know about.” You sob, overwhelmingly ashamed and unable to keep eye contact with him, you try to break away from his grip, try to look away from his fiery gaze but it’s all useless when it only tightens around your jaw.

“Breaking my heart again when I so willingly handed it to you with so much trust in you.”  your heart falls apart at the way his words weakened towards the end “That’s fucking unfair.” His anger is displaced by exasperation that has you shaking.

“I’m sorry Hyunjin. I want to explain myself I promise there’s so much more to everything than you think.”

He laughs, humorless and cruel. Your words remain woefully inadequate, and it only has him dwindling further into his disappointment and he grows to feel idiotic, for coming here, for thinking he has any sort of authority over your actions. He’s only driven by his anger and longing for you, and he resents it. His grip on you loosens, and when he goes to take a step back, he’s stopped by your fingers circling his wrist.

“I never meant to break your heart, jinnie.”

“But you fucking did Y/N! it doesn’t matter what you meant to do, don’t you get it?” his tone rises, breaking towards the end and rendering you the same kind of broken.

“Okay yes, I did! I wish I didn’t, but I did. I get that but you can’t keep blaming me when you won’t even listen to me.”

“This is fucking stupid.” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair and then he’s shaking his head in disbelief.

“Forget it.” He spits then swivels away from you, abandoning his heart alongside his dignity.

But he doesn’t get to make it far, doesn’t even take the first step down because the sound of your body breaking down and your knees hitting the ground is enough for him to look back at you in panic, the vision of your limbs weakened on the floor is enough to have him rushing by your side.

“Y/N.” his arms are around your shoulders; your labored breaths have his eyes widening in worry.

“what’s wrong?” he questions; eyes raking through your features anxiously.

Your eyes have gone hazy, pupils dilating as they lose focus and it sets his soul ablaze with crippling fear, with a trembling absentminded cradle of your cheek “baby, can you hear me? come on focus on me.” He’s tapping your cheek gently, slightly panicking as his other hand rubs soothing circles on your back and you blink at him, regaining some of your fumbled mind.

“I-I’m sorry I just felt a little dizzy and my head was spinning-“

“Shh it’s okay.” He lets out a breath of relief when your eyes focus on him, blinking rapidly “when was the last time you eaten?” his voice is gentle in complete contrast to how he was speaking moments ago, breaking through the collecting clouds in your eyes. He pulls you to his chest, gathers you in his arms and despite the aching in your body you could only think about the familiar scent of peaches invading your senses. The comfort of his warm embrace has you clutching onto his shirt desperately.

“I don’t remember.” You murmur, you feel cold sweat collecting at the roots of your hair, your limbs growing weaker as if they weigh nothing.

“For fuck’s sake Y/N.” his warm palm that rests at your forehead brings a comfort akin to fresh air that you desperately breath in “can you stand up?” Despite the bells ringing in your ears, you still manage to nod, or at least you think you do even if you’re not sure with how lightheaded you’re feeling.

When he helps you stand up your words are meaningless as your body slumps into him, weak and drained of energy, without saying a word he takes it upon himself to carry you inside. The alarming lightness of your body as if carrying a singular feather has his heart tightening. You’re somewhat present yet not fully there when you press your face into his neck, your tears sting against his skin, burn him and he’s sure you’ll only leave another mark of yours on his body.

“I’m sorry,” you kept crying into his neck and Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say, not when his heart hammers against his ribcage begging for an escape from you, you who once was his sanctuary. Who is he supposed to find solace in when the cause of his heartbreak lies between his arms?

You don’t remember much of what happens after, you only remember flowing out of consciousness when he placed you on your couch, the familiar cushions are comfortable against your body, his presence brings ease to your loud mind and it quietens it for mere minutes that are enough for you to fall asleep, for the first time in a while. You can’t recall It perfectly, but you swear you felt Hyunjin’s colder hand in yours.

When you wake up it’s 9 p.m. The scent of cooked soup, specifically chicken soup erupts from your kitchen, filling the space of your small apartment and has your stomach growling in hunger. A dull ache has latched itself on your every muscle as if you’re a corpse who just gotten back to life. You run a tired hand over your face, a headache starts to form as soon as you sit up.

“you’re awake,” Hyunjin’s voice startles you, have not noticed him standing there. Eyes locked on you and you only nod in response. Your throat is parched.

“Water?” he asks when he notices your lingering silence and you nod, averting your eyes as he disappears back into your kitchen. When he’s back there’s a tray between his hands, carrying a glass of water and a bowl of what you assume to be the soup you smelled.

“Here.” He mumbles, a tinge of awkwardness clings to his fingers as he brings the glass to your lips, your eye contact has you feeling lightheaded for reasons other than the lack of food in your system. His thumb rubs circles on the insides of your thigh as you sip diligently. His touch has you almost doubling over for more, your longing expands and takes space over every cell in your body.

You miss him more than you miss breathing in air.

“Thank you,” you finally reply as he places the now empty glass back on the table, he doesn’t say anything back and instead pushes the tray of food towards you “eat.” His tone is banal, he avoids the longing in your glance, yet this thumb remains in its place, spreading the warmth of something you know is counterfeit. It has your throat tightening.

“How did you make this?” you ask as you swirl your spoon around the bowl.

“I had to go grocery shopping. Why is your house so empty Y/N?” He’s not looking for an answer so you don’t give him one. Instead, you busy yourself with eating as silence settles in between you two.

Hyunjin keeps his gaze locked on the dark screen of your tv and you force yourself to find a domestic alleviation in the act. In the quietness that is nowhere near as comfortable as it once was, in the rigid lines of harshness on his face. It’s all a charade, you’re aware of it but you pretend that there’s still love in these walls, in the couch you both are sitting on and it’s not filled with disappointment as it witness the growing distant between you two.

“Good?” he asks when you set your half empty bowl back on the tray.

“mhm,” you murmur, your eyes studying the side of his face and the longer he refuses to look at you the deeper your agony settles into your soul, a remorse nestled into the bit of your stomach and you could see it all when your hands reaches for his slender fingers and his body tenses as if your bodies didn’t belong together.

The walls of your living room laugh in mockery when your fingers squeeze his, lucky enough to witness this pitiful parody of what was real once. What you killed. But you never got time for it, instead Hyunjin is somehow sitting next to you, filled with quiet resentment for himself and then for you and thirdly for this foolish thing we like to call love.

“I’m so sorry about everything Hyunjin.” you say, hardly audible.

“You should be feeling sorry for your body Y/N.”

“I don’t care about my body, any sort of emotion that runs through my body is for you. it’s because of you.”

“Why did you do it then? Why did you have to kill us so brutely?” when he looks at you, you feel your heart constricting in your chest, longing for comfort that only exists within his fingertips.

“I was stupid,” you admit through swallowing down the lump forming in the center of your throat “I was jealous, and it brought out the worst in me. I had never seen you with a girl before and I just- “you suck a deep breath in, the stupidity of your actions dawns on you the longer you try to explain.

Your eyes comb over his features, the anguish clouding his iris has you melting away in the blues of your rushed decisions.

“It killed me knowing you might have fallen for someone other than me.”

“So, you decided to punish someone innocent over the faults of our hearts?” you long for evidence of his adoring for you, searching the flickers of dark in his eyes for a missing piece that feels it has been snatched away from you. You’re disappointed when you can’t find anything, it’s blank.

Who knew a simple feeling could alter someone’s gaze this much.

“I fucked up, I know I did.” Your voice breaks with anxiety at the thought of losing him “at first it was just that but when I found out that her mom was my dad’s mistress it only got worse.”

Hyunjin lets out a breath of disbelief but doesn’t complain when your nails start digging into his palm, a pathetic claim to cling onto him.

“It felt like she kept taking everyone from me it was you first, then my dad and then my mom kept comparing me to her I just felt like I wasn’t enough, yet no one was feeling my pain.” A small whimper escapes your lips, one that is filled with enough despair to has him shutting his eyes and his teeth latching painfully around his lower lip, as if trying to prevent himself from saying anything.

“I was in so much pain I just wanted to hurt everyone else around me and specifically her. She was everything that I wanted to be. Everything that everyone wanted me to be, but I was nothing but a failure that longed for your love. I was too much of a coward to say it.” You take a deep breath in, your fingers tremble between his, and you feel like an ugly monster who taints everything it touches red with fiery and resentment, it flows from your fingertips.

You feel like nothing but a weakling destruction, an abandoned ground of all the people you could have become.

“I know it’s not right if I could go back and change it trust me I would. I hate myself for it every day, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror for what I did. I was punishing her for something she didn’t even do. I was filled with hatred and anger towards the world, and I took it out on her.”  

A winding coil is waiting to snap behind your eyes when Hyunjin frees his hands from you, a shaky exhale escapes and he stands up, you feel him slipping through your fingers, see the fragments of him leaving you once again. It has an unmistakable tightness pulling at your chest. Anxiety, a monster known to make an appearance simultaneity with your darkening thoughts. It snaps when a pregnant silence follows as Hyunjin paces relentlessly before you from left to right as if trying to make sense of your words.

Regret, a color you were so familiar with, has been painted in so many times but this darkening shade you’re drowning in right now doesn’t even compare to anything you’ve felt ever before. It something so much more. A colossal amount that has painful tears cascading down your cheeks in a silent plea.

“I wanted to call it off, but Yeosang didn’t want to. He started threatening me with telling you everything and back then i-I just wasn’t ready to relive the pain of what happened with Seungmin once again.” You wince, your hands shake as your heart grows heavier with every word, with every step of his “When i-I was ready everything came crashing down and it was too late. I wanted to tell you so much sooner.”

“You don’t get it do you?” he finally speaks, voice doused with raw and unfiltered betrayal. You’re only brought back to life to be killed once again “It’s the fact that you did it in the first place that breaks my heart Y/N.”

You open your mouth to respond but no words make appearance in your mind, it’s all blank and misplaced judgments “I don’t know when you became this person. This is not the person I fell in love with. I knew you had your flaws, but I thought you were changing, I thought you left it all behind,” His eyes are devoid of vibrancy as they stare you down, a manifestation of the sadness residing in his heart “I didn’t know what you were hiding in the dark was so much worse than I could ever imagine.”

“H-how do I make it better? How do I fix it?” Your legs hurt when you move to stand up before him, a throb in your body due to how weak you grew in few weeks of abandonment.

“I don’t know,” he whispers, looking away in yearning for a fleeting respite. It’s out of reach when your hand hesitates to touch him. Why does it pain him so much when your hands linger awkwardly between you two? As if you grew to be strangers in a few counted seconds.

“Please tell me how do I fix it.” You plead, voice hoarse as your tears run like an endless steam “I wish I could go back and never make that stupid bet. I wish I could go back and fight Seungmin properly-“

“Don’t bring him up.” His brows furrow and your heart sinks.

“I never wanted to sleep with him-“

“I know. I believe you.” He interrupts you again and you realize the darkness taking over his eyes, doused in pain, is not because of betrayal but rather unexpected. It’s the same entity that you know is etched all over your being too.

Regret.

“I never blamed you for anything that happened with Seungmin.” Your hand finally touches him, cups his cheek in lovingly manner like all the destined lovers are meant to hold each other, he leans into the soft skin of your palm in broken tenderness. A shaky fuck tumbles out of his lips. He hates how you manage to see through him without him uttering a single word. He hates how delicately you touch him, he hates how his heart is wounded because of you and yet bleeds with you, for you. How your sorrow has his anger disappearing into thin air as if it never existed. And he only aches for you, for all the pain you had to endure alone.

He hates that he can’t actually hate you.

“I couldn’t protect you.” He sounds shattered when he speaks, it shatters your soul with it.

“I’m sorry,” he says shakily, and, in that moment, you think you finally understand what’s it’s like to be absolutely broken, to feel pain run through your veins as if it’s your blood, as if it’s a part of you that won’t ever relent. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you and he comes with ease, your face disappearing into the junction of his neck and shoulder “it’s okay, there’s nothing you could have done. It’s not your fault Hyunjin.” You speak against it, and he shakes in your embrace.

It was such an odd situation, to comfort the boy you filled with despair. It has reality sinking into you at that moment, the fact that the broken pieces of your relationship are much smaller, much sharper than you anticipated and you’re not sure how to pick them up without any of you two bleeding to death. The damage you left, the scars of your past, the unshed tears and all the broken promises are evidence of how you two are incompatible with your love. And it’s excruciating.

You pull away far enough to look at him, his eyes glisten with sorrowful water and you cradle his cheeks, wiping at the few drops that managed to escape “it’s okay.” You murmur, unsure if you’re trying to comfort him or yourself.

“I don’t know if anything will ever be okay again. I don’t know if we will ever be okay.”

“If I fix me then will you love me again?”

“Don’t talk as if you’re a mere object and not human.” He scolds and you feel as if your heart is being carved out of your chest at his care for you despite how wrong you are, how everything is your fault “It only pains me when you talk about yourself like this. When you starve yourself as a way to punish yourself.”

“What should I do then? How do I end your misery? Please tell me.”

“Bring back the girl I fell in love with. The one with infectious smiles and the gleam of the moon in her eyes,” His words hang over you like a gloomy cloud.

“Will you able to forgive me then?” you ask, sad and small.

“I don’t know.” He answers truthfully, an answer you weren’t looking forward to, and it feels like an arrow has been shot through your heart “but if you’re trying then I’m willing to try too.”

Hyunjin leaves soon after, a mountain of unspoken words lingers between you two. Nothing like the secrets you had kept till now, a foreign void forms in your heart and a rather bigger weight burdens your shoulders shrouded in your relationship that’s falling apart. Hanging by a thread that you’re holding onto as if it’s your lifeline. And that’s why you stop Hyunjin by your door. Both of your cheeks flushed and eyes puffy.

“I think I was made for loving you,” your words spill like an explosion that you cannot hold back, enamored by how your soul intertwines even when you’re refusing to touch “Even if you think we seem hopeless right in this moment, and I am only ever wrong and confused. I might be a fool who does not know anything but all I know is I was made for loving you so this is my last promise, I will try my best to make everything better, to be better.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything back, there’s no right answer that he could muster up so instead he saves your words in his pocket, and you capture the look of his dreary eyes swimming with endless adoration for you in your mind.

You know it’s true, you love him without being good for anything else.

It’s not until a week later that you see Hyunjin again, right as the first snow of the new year falls. You welcome winter with a dull ache that has spread through your soul. A tempest of memories curl in the folds of frigid winds. It dances through your hair and through his when you see him right outside of your apartment complex. A thick dark blue scarf looped multiple times around his neck, remains of half-finished cigarettes at his feet gives away his building nerves as he waited for a glimpse of you.

“Did you really mean it when you said you want to be better?” When he looks at you, you envision fragments of summer in him. Mere centimeters separate you.

“I meant every word.” Your voice is as soft as the ray of sunshine slipping through the grey clouds.

“I don’t know if there’s gonna come a day where I’ve fully forgiven you. I don’t know if there’s a way for my heart not to throb painfully as it calls your name,” a pause, enough to have you holding your breath when his dark eyes flit across yours “but I think I want to be next to you when it happens.”

He closes the small space between you two and stands before you, looking down at you as if you were 16 again in the middle of your school hallway, your last book ended with bloodshed and deep scars but that never means there’s no room for healing and when Hyunjin extends his hand to you, a youthful smile taking place on his face you feel the truth bloom in you. You see fate rewrites itself into new pages, scribbles of poetry that won’t have to be filled with lies and fearful tears.

“No more secrets?”

“No more secrets.” You answer, with a similar smile.

Despite the bitter winter you feel the warmth of sun seeps into your being when you take his hand in yours. It’s as sweet as peaches and embraces you in overwhelming comfort. a peaceful buzz that settles through the center of your heart, a fresh new color, so bright and foreign but more than anything welcomed.

It’s hopeful and it screams stay, stay, stay.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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[diejager]

how would the cod group react to someone who has medical conditions that affect them mildly but constantly throughout the day? Like, it’s very mild, but constantly there and noticeable

(Eds is a pain in the ass)

I don’t know what Ed was, but it gave me erectile dysfunction as a medical condition, or an eating disorder for mental disorder. I’m not sure which is which, so eh, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Parosmia Cw: I have no medical knowledge, this is all from google, mild medical condition, loss/distortion of smell and taste, triggering scents, tell me if I missed any.

You were transparent with your annoying condition, your documentation had it written down in medical conditions along with occasional tinnitus and sudden bouts of depression related to your distortion of scents. You’ve had some odours lose their potency, the fresh smell of cold aloe and cucumber dimming to a ghost of it’s freshness, and you’ve had scents that became too strong and nauseating, the usually delicious taste of steak became a nauseating rot and overpowering. 

Laswell had disclosed it to Price the day she showed him your file, letting him know that your nose might comprimiseyour operations if anything triggered it, but that, form experience from working with you, you knew how to deal with the disgust and urge to puke. She left him with out much convincing needed, because he’d seen you work once in a past mission in Siberia, a clandestine OP that had him sweating despite the freezing tempature and you hadn’t batted an eye at the attrocious rotting of dead elks and wolves near the base. He let the others know and reassured them that it wouldn’t compromise the mission if it were triggered. Gaz and Soap were more enthusiastic about having you, a little excited of having another teammate to act out with or to prank, and Ghost was more apprehensive and careful about introducing a new operation, but he’d turn around —eventually.

And he did, Ghost was the most careful around you, making sure that his musk and sweat was too strong to your nose, he watched out for any triggering odours and made sure to memorise all your triggers. He might not know how it felt, but he could only sympathise, trying his best to relieve your annoyance and stop anything from happening if he knew how to. It surprised Price how fast Ghost had opened up to you, to your snark and snide replies and heart-stopping grins. 

Fortunately, your parosmia was mild, a constant annoyance, but it was milder than the headaches Price had every night. He might not have as much time as the others to spend with you, but whenever he had the time, he would join your ragtag group for a drink in your room rather than the bar when he learned that the smell of oily and oversaturated fries and burgers had your head pulsing and throat clog up. He never brought up the need to go at a bar, he didn’t mind buying bottles and hide them in his office until the moment came for a night drink with his Task Force. 

Suprisingly, Gaz was understanding, quick to drop something to help you if you had a moment. Gaz would help you lean over the toilet seat, his hand running down your back in a soothing pattern, encouraging you to let it out and praising you for being strong. He helped you to your feet, knees weak and still a bit nauseous, and cleaned your face with a wet towel and handed you a cup to rinse your mouth before he lead you to your room, seated on your bed and helping you sleep it off. Gaz was a softer shoulder to lean on, confident in his care and unworried about being caught cuddling with you.

And Soap, oh ignorant Johnny, was confused at first, he made mistakes here and there, but he’s smart and resourceful. He might’ve been confused, but he made up for it, coming up with the weirdest and most amusing way to help you around base. He was as obnoxious about it as he was shamelessly showering you with affection, hanging off your shoulder and babbling your ears off while he wafted a scented near you that he learned was relaxing and comfortably soft for your olfactory nerves. 

They were surprisingly welcoming and went out of their way to make you comfortable in all and every form, you were honestly happy about it, even if you happened to annoy Ghost with your back talk as much as you did with Price, only encouraging and being encouraged by the younger men of the group.

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[lieslab]

Mess is mine

Pairing: Seungmin X gn reader

Summary: After missing for a couple of weeks, Seungmin comes back home to find you struggling with an anorexic relapse.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 1.7K

Trigger warning: Mentions of food, diets, weight loss and weight gain, starvation, counting calories, and body dysmorphia.

A/N: We're back on track with requests. Food and eating disorders are really mentally draining and ugh. They're really awful to deal with. I'm sorry to anyone who has to deal with them on the regular because they suck major ass. I always say it and I'll say it again, please be gentle with yourselves <3

_ _ _

You can’t see some illnesses and that’s just how it is. A person can look entirely normal to your face. Everything appears perfectly fine, but a smile can always be fake. Hidden beneath the skull, mental illness can bury themselves into the warm crevices of your brain far, far, far away from sight. 

Locked and drilled into you, how do you separate yourself from your mental illness? How do you keep it away from swallowing you and devouring you whole? How do you fight it before your mental illness claims your soul? 

Food was something you always struggled with. How amusing it must be to some people. How could you have a battle with something that every person needed to nourish their body? How did that happen? 

It wasn’t hard when you grew up in a world where models and actors and actresses were eye level in the store. The bold and accusatory titles had been ingrained in your head since you were younger. 

Some actress caught swimming at the beach had gained a bit of a stomach. Check out the interview with the Victoria’s Secret model who swore off sugar and went on strict diets for the upcoming famous Victoria Secret Fashion Show. Check out how this latest up and coming actor dropped a massive amount of weight for his new role. 

With everything at your fingertips, it wasn’t hard to find a parent’s worst nightmare. Tips on Tumblr for how to starve yourself. Reddit threads about how people lost weight and kept it off. Insane and unsustainable diets that were sure to cause you to crash and burn. 

It wasn’t a surprise when you fell victim to an eating disorder. A silent struggle that you always thought about any time a bite of food came near you. How many calories was in this and that? 

Did salt and pepper add more calories to your food? Maybe you should eat your salad plain and without dressing because calories count in every little thing. With your own brain against you, you were driving yourself mad until you thought you would burst and on and on it went and then…and then you met Seungmin. 

It’s not another person’s job to fix you, but when Seungmin found out, he helped you the best that he could. He took you outside on walks every now and then, so the two of you could talk. On the days you admitted that you didn’t have breakfast or lunch, he made you nutritious snacks. 

The beginning was the most difficult thing in the entire world. You remember the salted taste of the soup he made for you one day. The recipe was out of your hands and he didn’t tell you what it was. You silently freaked out in the bathroom because you didn’t know how many calories you consumed. 

A hundred calories was basically five hundred and five hundred might as well be a thousand, plus a few hundred. It’s a sticky situation that’s hard to get out of. 

However, you knew this inner battle couldn’t go on forever. You knew you had to try and fight and you were jealous. You were jealous of the people who ate what they desired and stayed around the same weight. You hated that you didn’t have the same mindset as them, so you tried. 

You tried to keep the same mindset and you were brave. You ate the dessert after dinner, you ate the snack between lunch and dinner, and you ate breakfast. You didn’t realize you had gained weight until you finally stepped on the bathroom scale.

The next day, Seungmin left for Japan. It was only a few weeks that they’d be doing promotions. When the band came back to Korea, they’d be getting ready for another comeback. Seungmin wouldn’t have time for you and you were grateful because this was a mess and you needed to fix it. 

Weeks later, you didn’t realize that Seungmin had let himself into your apartment. You came home from work utterly exhausted and defeated. You pushed the door open to your bedroom and stumbled inside. 

Seungmin was in the kitchen and he had helped himself to the items in your kitchen. He was preparing the two of you a snack when the front door opened. He dusted off his hands and began to head towards your room. 

Too distracted by your own thoughts, you didn’t hear his footsteps as he approached your bedroom. You bent down to tug off your work shirt and ripped it over your head. Your work pants soon followed and during that time, Seungmin’s heart dropped. 

Through the setting sunlight, he could make out the ridges in your spine. He was able to count your ribs again. You grabbed an oversized shirt and shimmied into it. The cotton baby blue hung down to your mid-thighs. 

You didn’t bother with a pair of pants as you dropped back onto the bed. Still unaware of Seungmin’s presence, you pulled out your phone and shot him a text. He was supposed to be home today, but you didn’t know when and asked for clarification. 

When a notification bell came from the hall, you jerked up in shock. Your eyes were wide as Seungmin stood in the hallway. You hated that the first thing you noticed was the disappointment in his eyes. 

Body dysmorphia was a very scary and real thing. You were starving yourself. The skin was stretched tight over your bones. Carved out cheekbones and a perfectly sharpened jaw completed your face. You struggled to force your eyes to meet him. 

“Seungmin, I-” 

“Why?” He got out softly as he approached you. His hands gently reached out and he grabbed your hips. The padded flesh had melted away. The comforting feeling was left jagged and unnatural. “When was the last time you ate?” 

“I can explain, I-” 

“You relapsed. You relapsed and you didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The tears filled your eyes before you could stop them. Your voice fell out shrill. “I-I’m sorry, but you were busy and I-” 

He pulled you into his arms and wrapped them around you. “You’re not and you’d never be a bother to me. I don’t care if I’m up in the air and halfway around the world or a few countries over. I’m your boyfriend and I don’t want you to suffer alone. I know this is hard and scary, but please don’t shut me out.” 

“I-I-” Your voice cracked as it wavered. “I didn’t mean to. I gained weight and it wasn’t that much, I know, but it felt like I suddenly gained a thousand pounds. I just wanted to lose a few more and I-” 

Seungmin’s sudden warm squeeze cut you off. You shut your eyes and put your head on his shoulder. In the very beginning of your relationship, you had struggled with things like this before. It was never easy to be vulnerable with another person. 

You were his entire world and he wasn’t going to let you suffer alone. He sucked in a deep breath and inhaled the familiar scent of your body. You were his home for months now and you always would be. 

It was finally washing over you that this was a battle that was greater than you. Sometimes we can’t fight battles on our own and sometimes it’s better to ask for help rather than suffer in silence. 

There’s a weariness and fear in being vulnerable, but there’s a warmth and a light in some people. Some people will do anything in the entire world to try to make you feel better. They’d set themselves on fire to keep you warm if they had to. 

“When was the last time you ate?” 

“I don’t know,” you finally admitted. 

Seungmin pulled away and looped his hands through yours. “Come on,” he tugged you towards the kitchen. Your feet remain rooted to the ground and fear began to bubble in your stomach again. 

“Please don’t worry. I made us a small snack and I promise you, you won’t gain weight from it. You need something in your system, so you don’t pass out. What if you passed out in the shower? Do you really want paramedics oogling over your moist and naked body?”

A smile began to tug at the corners of your lips. “You know that I hate that word a lot. It’s such a disgusting word and I-” 

“Oogling or moist?” 

“Both.” 

“That’s just too bad. Come on, we have a lot to catch up on. Just wait until I tell you what the guys and I did. Come on, go faster! I got on pinterest while away and found the cutest little snack inspirations and I made them!” 

You smiled softly as you let him lead you to the kitchen. You weren’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t too often that Seungmin could be so soft. It made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. 

“Ta-dah! Do you like them? I think they’re very cute. I’d say that you can pick yours, but this one is mine. I made it and it reminds me of Lee Know.” 

Your heart melted as you found a piece of toast on a plate. Seungmin gently pushed the porcelain plate towards you. It was so cute, you thought you might cry. 

A thin layer of peanut butter had been spread over the toast. The scent of bananas still lingered in the air. He had applied a small slice of banana to each top corner. Another banana slice sat perched in the middle of the toast. Two raisins placed above them created eyes and another raisin on the middle banana slice created a tiny button nose. 

“It looks like a bear, right? I thought it was cute. Sometimes you like to sleep a lot and it reminded me of hibernation and bears. This one is mine,” he pointed to his own slice of toast, “it’s a cat.” 

Two blueberries sat in the middle of the peanut butter toast for eyes. A single strawberry had been cut up. Two triangular speckled slices sat on each corner to create ears. Tiny snips of strawberry were placed along another smaller slice of strawberry for whiskers. 

“You know what dogs do to cats?” 

Before you could respond, he grinned and took a huge bite out of the toast. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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[munsonsmixtapes]

I Can(t) Do It With a Broken Heart

rockstar!Eddie x fem!reader

summary: Eddie is nothing but heartbroken from his break up with you as he goes on yet another tour with Corroded Coffin only for you to try to win him back

Based on the Taylor Swift song

cw: hurt/comfort, talk of depression and disordered eating, mention of alcohol abuse

Not proofread!

Eddie stood backstage as all of the roadies ran around, getting everything ready for the show. All of his bandmates were running off of adrenaline, but he was running off of two hours of sleep, three beers, and a joint. This was their fourteenth show of their first world tour and he honestly had no idea where they were. Somewhere in Europe for sure. Stockholm, maybe? Or London? Honestly, he didn’t care. He didn’t even want to be there.

He’d never admit it, but he had been a wreck since his breakup with you. Everything was falling apart between the two of you and you both made the mutual decision to end your five year relationship because of it. It hurt so badly. The most pain he had ever been in. Well, emotionally. He hated living without you and had thought about you every single moment since the last time he had seen you.

You hadn’t been doing so well either. Terrible, in fact. You had quit your job because you had fallen into the worst depression and found yourself struggling to eat. Your breakup with Eddie felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest and at the moment, you wanted to wallow in your feelings.

You wished you hadn’t let him get on the plane, but you supposed it was for the best. Even though you had wanted to try harder and make things work, you knew it had to end. It just wasn’t working anymore. You both just needed some time away from each other for a while.

Eddie reluctantly went to the stage and tried his best to keep his balance as his guitar was handed to him. This was the second show in a row that he had been drunk off his ass and the rest of the band was sick of it. How could they perform when the lead singer was that drunk? This was the final straw.

With that, Eddie was sent back to the hotel to get some rest and to pack his things to leave in the morning as the tour had been cut short. He couldn’t be expected to perform in that state and nobody deserved to see him like that.

While Eddie was sleeping off his drunken state, you were still at the apartment that you had shared, not being able to get yourself to pack up your things. You couldn’t just leave that chapter of your life, especially without another glimpse of Eddie.

The next morning, you found your pillow stained with tears yet again. You forced yourself out of bed and threw on some clothes to make yourself feel better. After you were dressed, you headed to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee.

You pulled down Eddie’s favorite mug since it had been the closest thing you had to him and poured the coffee in it. Just you were pouring the creamer, you heard the front door behind you unlock. You whipped around, wondering who the hell would be breaking in at eight o’clock in the morning, but you still wanted to be sure that you were armed.

You held out the hot coffee pot as the door opened and dropped it, the entire thing shattering as you caught sight of your boyfriend. Or you supposed, your ex boyfriend. He looked exactly the same as he had a few months prior, but now he had grown out his facial hair.

“Eddie,” you gasped.

“Y/n…what are you doing here?” He let his bag drop to the floor as he took you in. You were dressed in nothing but a tank top and a pair of underwear and he could have sworn that you were even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

“I um-i haven’t been able to move out yet. I’m sorry, I just-”

“Don’t apologize,” he commanded, cutting you off. He stepped closer to you, taking his hands in yours. He looked tired but still as handsome as ever. He somehow made the bags under his eyes work for him.

“I missed you,” he said, his chest rising and falling as he letting his mind run wild of all the things he had wanted to do to you since you had been apart.

“I missed you too. So fucking much.” You intertwined your fingers, giving his hands a squeeze as he pulled you to him so that you were chest to chest.

“I think we’ve made a mistake.”

“Me too. I can’t live without you anymore.”

“And neither can I. Can we start over?”

“I’d want nothing more.” With that, Eddie pulled you in for a kiss, this one eager and messy, the both of you pouring everything you felt for each other into it. One of his arms wrapped around your shoulders as his other hand rested on the small of your back.

He licked into your mouth and you let out a moan as the feeling of your tongues tangling together. His hands moved down your back and to your thighs, telling you to jump. You did as much and Eddie caught you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together at his back.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” you told him as you pulled away, only to dive back in again.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied against your lips as he carried you to the bed.

This was exactly what you had been dreaming of every night he had been away and you couldn’t have been more elated that it was all coming true. You finally had him again and he promised to never leave you again.

You and Eddie spent the rest of the day and night making up for lost time between the sheets of your shared bed. Maybe the time away from each other only made your love for each other grow stronger. All of your issues had seemed to have disappeared and you had been happier together than you ever had. Eddie supposed that now that you were back together and with a little rehab, he’d be ready to go back on tour. Maybe he really couldn’t do it with a broken heart.

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series is 18+ and will contain fluff, suggestion, SMUT (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mental health struggles, eating disorder, self doubt, body image issues, daddy kink, angst, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 29 - Another Fall Baby | ‘Ours’

word count - 11.8 k

Another day, another morning filled with Teddy’s giggles echoing in your kitchen. Trent was chasing her around the island counter as you tried to dodge them, multitasking making Trent’s protein shake and Teddys pancakes for their respective breakfasts. This was their thing lately. Teddy liked to think she was going at the same speed in your kitchen that she was watching Trent run on the pitch during his matches every weekend. She assumed he was trying just as hard with her. She assumed she was just as fast as him. Trent wasn’t going to tell her otherwise. It was fun and he wanted her to believe she was that fast, he wasn’t going to be the one to burst her bubble. He was off to training after you all would eat. You had your first appointment for your pregnancy with your doctor in a few short days. Today you planned on taking it easy and doing everything you could to avoid the anxiety you were feeling about that appointment. When the game of tag was finished and breakfasts were done you sat Teddy at the table to eat, getting her situated. Trent opted to stand at the countertop with you resting his chin onto your shoulder, one hand holding his shake, the other placed delicately over your stomach.

“Thank you for carrying another beautiful little baby for us.” Trent whispered only for you to hear, keeping his eyes locked on Teddy being her usual self, happily munching on the tiny pieces of pancakes you had cut up for her and a few strawberries. 

“Think he or she will be beautiful like her?” You asked sheepishly. Not really as a jab or a dig at his ability to make a cute baby more from a place of personal insecurity. What if your next baby looked more like you and wasn’t as cute as Trent’s carbon copy swaying her head back and forth with dramatic ‘mmms’ at the table right now?

“Yeah, I mean it’s impossible for them not to be really. They’ll look like us.” He continued on and you hummed. “Look at me baby. Any baby of mine has a pretty good shot at being cute.” He teased turning your chin with his hand to look at his correctly defined cute face. You rolled your eyes at his, though accurate, obnoxious cockiness about his appearance. “And there is a 100% chance any baby of yours will be gorgeous, alright?” He confirmed.

“I guess.” You mumbled out letting your eyes flutter closed for a moment, still worried. Trent’s cute comments definitely made you feel mildly better. They were sweet but you couldn’t shake your nerves entirely. 

“Looks aside, baby, because at the end of day that’s not really what I’m worried about, they are so lucky to have you as a mummy.” Trent cooed, turning you by gripping your hips, spinning you into him. You smiled up at him and pecked his lips draping your arms over his shoulders. “I didn’t know until I met you how bad I wanted this.  I didn’t know how important it’d be but this family, our children, I’ll do anything for us and more specifically you, pretty girl. You're everything, baby.” He cooed a particularly heavy and emotional comment.

“Yeah? I feel like everything was just in black and white till we had Teddy. Can you bear with a cheesy sentiment?” You looked at Trent with earnest eyes. He nodded, not entirely sure what he was signing up for but he’d always listen no questions asked. “I feel like my life was very static, it was all still photos with no movement and then I met you and it transformed into this movie. Everything began to flow and move. There was a score playing in each scene, like music. It just came to life and then when we had Teddy, it was like this gorgeous perfect movie flooded with color. I’m learning things all over again and appreciating them and the fact that I get to do it with you and her, I just keep falling in love with our life.  It’s different having a family of my own. It feels like I finally am…” you took a deep breath, snapping out of your emotions before finishing your soliloquy. “Healing.” You flicked your eyes that had been fixated out a window to the back garden through the monologue back to Trent.

“Wow… baby. Erm.” Trent blinked his eyes a few times, taken back by your really heartfelt and almost heartbreaking confessional. “I mean… you know I’m not as articulate with my words as you are so as much as I like to win I don’t think I could compete with that because honestly you speak as beautiful as you look, baby.” He dropped his hands around your waist and over the curve of your ass to the back of your thighs picking you up and placing you to sit on the countertop. He stepped in between your legs and cupped your face, coming closer. “I feel the exact same way. I couldn’t express it better but baby… I don’t think you realize that you’re the reason things in life began to transform into moving colors. You’re the one that brought on this metamorphosis. You’re not the girl I met on 78th street. You’re everything I imagine that girl wanted to be. You’re so strong. What you’ve been through, whether it be the physicality of bringing a child into this world or the strength you’ve shown to heal and manage your health. You’re so brave. You always tell me I am after big matches and that you're proud of me but honestly comparably it’s nothing to what you do day in and day out. I couldn’t be more proud of you simply for just being you.  Baby, what you provide Teddy and I is immeasurable. You are invaluable and you deserve to be living in a kaleidoscope world of color that I, by some higher power, got to be the lucky man that gets to give that to you and I hope I do.” Trent kept his voice quiet and despite your attempt to keep your tears at bay, they disobeyed your intentions and tumbled down your cheeks. You wrapped yourself around Trent and just breathed him in. 

“You do, T. I love you so much.” You pulled away from your hug with a smile and started to giggle. Trent looked at you with a confused smirk. “What the fuck was that? That was so emotional.” You kept laughing. You and Trent went from having breakfast to baring your souls. You wiped your face and Trent followed in your hands wake with his thumb catching a few stray tears. 

“What’s wrong, mama? Why sad?” Teddy yelled out, concerned seeing you and Trent. She pushed her little pink plate with a bit of food left on it forward away from her. 

“I’m okay, Teddy girl. Just talking to daddy. Are you all done?” You cooed, turning towards her and hoping off the counter. You went to move past Trent but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back into a bear hug swaying you back and forth. 

“Ted, do you know how much I love mummy?” Trent asked her, kissing your head in between words. Teddy hummed a disinterested ‘yeah huh.’ He released you after a few more kisses you weren’t complaining about. You went over to Teddy and sat in the seat next to her high chair. 

“Hey, mummy.” Trent called for you as he grabbed a water from the refrigerator for himself. “I liked that picture from the GQ shoot you gave me so I moved it from my car into my locker in the changies so I need a new one.” He explained walking over to the kitchen table. It was just a thing you did to make Trent smile one day. You had tucked a photo of you all into the visor on the driver's side in his car. Evidently he liked it enough to move it. It was common for footballers to keep a photo of their families in their spaces at the training center. You were fairly sure he already had one but you weren’t going to press. You’d happily give him more.  

“Hmm. Okay, do you just want the same one or a different photo?” You asked him, watching him come towards you two at the table. 

“Erm… doesn’t matter, I just need one that I look good in.” He cheekily replied and you rolled your eyes. “One that my baby bear looks adorable in.” He cooed, running his hand over Teddy’s head before he pulled a chair out and sat down with you two. You nodded in agreement. “And obviously one that you look beautiful in, got one of those for me, pretty girl?” Trent asked, sliding his chair closer to yours and reaching out to squeeze your thigh. 

“Yeah, I can find one for you, T.” You smiled at him, placing your hand over his on your leg. “Can you have one more bite for me please, cutie girl?” You asked Teddy sweetly, pushing her plate back towards her. Trent picked up her little fork and picked one of the sliced strawberries up with it moving it to Teddy. 

“No tank, dada. Done, mama, tay?” Teddy told you very matter of fact climbing off her chair. You furrowed your brow and turned to Trent. Teddy’s new found independence was a little funny but it also caught you fairly off guard every time it showed up. 

“Oh.. okay, I guess bye.” You laughed as you watched her run out of the dinning room and lay herself flat on the hardwood floors next to your dogs. “How are we going to tell her?” You quietly asked Trent, keeping your eyes on Teddy with the dogs. She was talking to them like it was a mutual back and forth conversation.

“I don’t know, baby. How do you do that? Like does she know how that works? I don’t want her to know what we get up to.” Trent didn’t like the idea of Teddy being anything but his baby. It was clearly equally as perplexing to him as it was to you about the new hurdle you were about to tackle becoming parents for the second time    

“Erm… no. Right?” You answered him quickly. You were open with Teddy. You weren’t avoiding the logistics of life, you’d explain things if she asked. You didn’t want her to be afraid to tell you or Trent anything. You wanted her to be comfortable but Trent… well, Trent wasn’t all that comfortable about the idea that Teddy would ever grow up to be anything but his little girl, bundle of joy, pure, naive, angelic. He wanted her to stay that way forever if it was possible. 

“I don’t know, I can't imagine that. I mean we have to be realistic. I don’t want any of the stork shit. She’s smarter than that so I think we tell her honestly. Like I want her to know what's up but also not what her parents get up to, does that make sense? I don’t… God, baby, I don’t know.” Trent babbled almost confusing himself more. 

“Well obviously. I’m not gonna be like oh daddy and I fuck, am I?” You quipped with an obnoxious smile. Trent rolled his eyes at your dramatics. “This is when I feel like a fucking child. We’re parents and I have no idea how you do something like this.” You echoed his babbling, leaning your head onto his shoulder feeling the weight of raising a child with a second in the house approaching. 

“Baby, alright. Just relax.” He hummed caressing your sides. “She’s smart, she'll understand it. I guess we just google what to do because I’m not fucking asking my mum how she told me.” Trent laughed and you followed him agreeing that you didn’t want to ask your parents either. This was something you’d have to do your own way. It was your family and you two dictated how you’d run the show in your own house. You assumed you might have to do this again at one point or another if you survived having two.  

“I can’t believe I’m pregnant. Like I am right?” You whispered to Trent hesitantly asking him. It was obvious you were but a part of you was both apprehensive and eager to get to your doctor's appointment. 

“Baby, we’ve taken literally like 10 tests here and have the appointment so soon. I am pretty damn sure though.” He whispered back with a breathy laugh.  

“I know, I just.. I don’t know.” You sighed, hiding your face in his neck. You heard Teddy scream chasing one of the dogs. You could hear them scamper across the hardwood floors. “Think we’re ready for one more?” You asked Trent with a smirk pulling at your lips seeing Teddy round the couch with a giggle. Trent hummed confirming that he thought you were before kissing your temple.   

You walked into the cinema after Trent had come home from training later that day after you had put Teddy down for her last nap before dinner. He was sat back on a big lounger reclined with a massage gun working it over his thigh muscles haphazardly and lazily. December was always such a busy month for him with football and his body was starting to feel it. Even after the work he’d do at AXA for recovery with staff he still needed more. He was sore and tired. 

“My poor baby.” You cooed, coming to stand in front of him with a pout. He gave you a sleepy smile and beckoned you to come sit with him by a simple head gesture. “Need my help?” You asked, coming to the end of his seat and then crawling towards him. You slid both of your hands up his thighs moving them high up to his groins. You took the massager out of his hand before he even had answered you.

“Yeah, I need you, baby.” He sighed. He let his head drop back onto the cushion behind him. You did this a fair bit with him. When Trent was too tired after a match or training, you’d do anything for him. He didn’t even ask, you’d do it unprovoked more often than not. Sometimes you’d sit at the end of the bed or even on the floor at the end of the couch rubbing his feet, things like that. You didn’t mind, you wanted to do it. You held your pouty bottom lip between your teeth after you turned the massage gun back on. You focused on moving it in just the way you knew he liked as you kneeled, resting your ass back on your heels in between his legs. Trent had his eyes almost closed until he realized that the view in front of him wasn’t one he wanted to miss. The way you were bent over massaging him dressed in your skimpy tank top had your boobs practically falling out of it. You definitely fell into a category of women whose boobs tended to change during pregnancies. Trent wasn’t complaining. He tried to be coy but he was shamelessly staring as your larger boobs jiggled with every movement, watching your hardened nipples press into the fabric. “Yeah, I really need you, baby.” Trent groaned quietly and at first you didn’t realize it was anything other than a confirmation that maybe he felt better having someone else massage his sore muscles for him until he gently pulled down the soft fabric of your top letting your tits fall out. He pulled you up to him and swiftly wrapped his lips around one of your now exposed nipples. God, he felt so good. His tongue swirled around the perky bud. You were swollen and sensitive and this was turning you on an ungodly amount.

“Can I sit on your lap, T?” You asked him after minutes of pleasure what sounded fairly innocent but you both knew what you were asking for was more than a place to sit. You could feel your panties getting progressively more soaked. Your hormones were a mess lately. You couldn’t contain your desire for him. 

“Nah, i want you to turn around f’me.” He instructed you and so you did, slightly confused but you’d always listen. You sat in between his legs facing forwards, your back to his chest with your top pulled down. He wasted no time, pulling said top over your head though leaving you in nothing. “Tell me you want me to?” He asked you as if you knew what he was talking about. You turned your head back to him and in the smirk pulling on his lips you knew he was up to something both no good and simultaneously amazing. You nodded sheepishly, biting your lip apprehensively not sure you were agreeing to. “Open your legs, yeah?” His eyes had a lust burning behind them. Hisone hand pulled one of your thighs helping you. He turned the massage gun back on and what he was about to do pinged in your brain immediately. You whimpered when he moved your panties to the side using the pulsating ball of the gun. 

“Oh my fucking god, T.” You whined when Trent pressed the button of the massage gun once again. The speed of the vibrations increased. You bucked your hips into nothing but the gun’s vibrations, moaning. He was fucking loving this. You could feel warm liquid from your soaking wet pussy run down the inside of your legs. 

“Can I speed it up a little more, hmm?” He hummed and you whined. You were practically shaking as you felt your orgasm come closer. “Gonna be a good girl?” He asked you as he pressed down on the button to turn the vibrations up again. You nodded as he did it. Your back arched off of his chest. Shockwaves ran through your entire body while he moved the ball of the gun from your clit down to play with your entrance and then back up and around your clit.  Your orgasm came crashing over you unannounced. You could feel your juices leak from you but you couldn’t think straight to even care or even speak up to tell Trent you were cumming. He knew you well enough to know that’s what this was, in fact, he knew before you even had. He pressed the button once more to turn the massager back down to its original, lower, thank god, setting. Your chest heaved as you came down from your high, your clit still pulsating. 

“T, baby, please.” You whimpered as you pushed off of him, sitting up right. You were desperate for more. He just set you off. You turned around, placing your hands onto his shoulders swinging one of your legs over his lap and straddling him. Trent’s cock was painfully hard after watching you cum like that.  In quick succession, you pulled his length out from his joggers. You took his throbbing cock and ran the tip of it through your folds. 

“Go ‘head, pretty girl.” Trent smiled loving how needy you were for him. You nodded, taking his instructions, guiding his cock into your wet pussy’s entrance. Your eyes fluttered closed as you slowly began to slid down, taking every inch of him. “Fuck me, baby. Feel so good f’me.” He groaned feeling you around him.

“Oh my god.” You moaned. No matter how insane of an orgasm he just gave you with a massage gun, nothing would ever compare to how good he felt inside you. He dipped his head lower, kissing down your neck all the way to your exposed chest. He wrapped his lips around one of your already sensitive nipples. He groaned, biting your nipple, pulling on it with his teeth. You whined even more. You were gone. Trent had you a complete mess. He had your ass in his big hands. He slapped one of your asscheeks. The sound of his hand smacking against your skin and the squelch of you riding him was beyond lewd. The way you slid up and down on his cock was pure bliss for Trent. He didn’t want this to stop but the way your pussy clenched again and again had him dangerously close to cumming. His length was covered in your slick, it was a  pornographic sight. The veins in Trents neck pulled as he groaned trying to not finish just yet. He leaned your body back and thrusted up into you while you continued to bounce on top of him holding onto his shoulders. You made eye contact with him through hooded eyes as he fucked into you. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving behind crescent shapes, trying to hold off on your high till he told you you could cum. 

“Fucking hell, baby. Cum with me, yeah? Cum, baby. I need to cum inside you.” Trent growled, pulling you back into his embrace, nuzzling his face into the nape of your neck. He bit down into your skin. You whined his name repetitively as you came around him, falling apart, your pussy tightening and throbbing all at once. He groaned, releasing his warm cum inside you. Your body collapsed into his. You ran your hands over his hair delicately despite your heart still racing. 

“I love you so much, T.” You whispered, breathing the scent of him in. You laid into him limply as you both tried to regulate your heavy breathing.

“My baby.” He kissed your skin. “That felt so fucking good. God, I love you, beautiful.” He whispered, dragging you off him to cup your face in his hands. He looked deep into your eyes before he kissed you. You smiled into the kiss and pulled away with a giggle. You weren’t expecting your assistance post training to turn into all that. 

“C’mere, beautiful.” Trent pulled at your bare waist when he came home from training the following day. You were changing into a new outfit for a dinner you were going to tonight. He dragged your semi lingerie clad body back a little bit into him after he had come into your wardrobe. You were inspecting a romper you were holding up that you had thought you had wanted to wear but were now second guessing it. 

“I don’t want to be fat again.” You sighed sadly turning to him with a childish pout as you pulled the off the shoulder light pink romper over your body. 

“Baby, you have never been fat. If you’re talking about just changes because of the pregnancy… You’re carrying a baby, sweetheart. It’s so beautiful, really. You’re so beautiful.” He gripped your shoulders, turning you back to look at yourself in the mirror. He kissed your collarbone from behind leaning over you. “Look at you, gorgeous girl.” He slid his hands down your sides a few times before landing on your hips and squeezing them. 

“I look horrible. It’s just the worst part of the whole thing.” You sighed running your own hands over the front of the romper to flatten its material down to your stomach that was still flat but just the thought of what was to come was already upsetting you. It was far from true but you felt like you could see the bump already.

“You could never. What your body is doing is an amazing thing.” You rolled your eyes at Trent’s honest and sweet words that unfortunately weren’t enough to sway you. You scoffed a little at a kiss to the back of your shoulder and his sincere sentiment. “Well, you’re just in such a good mood today, huh?” He laughed. “Gimme a kiss, make you feel better.” He cooed, turning you around once more. 

“You’re hilarious.” You sighed defeatedly. He was amazing, you were just easily deflated by the idea of your appearance changing. A lot of women loved pregnancy and embraced the natural beauty of it all but you didn’t have a ton of that around you. You had your mum who immediately monitored your appearance from the second before to the second after you gave birth and all the way though, Lauren and Winnie who were actively avoiding pregnancy, walking around with arguably 10/10 bodies, and Dianne who would do anything to convince you that you were beautiful, but your put that off to you just being her daughter in law. It was a slightly confusing jumble of support. 

“Let’s think of all the fun things… c’mon.” Trent gently suggested kissing your forehead. 

“What? like not sleep…” You snapped unnecessarily harshly, turning away from him to go look for the shoes you wanted to wear with your outfit tonight.  You combed through shelves of shoes frustrated, unable to find the silver pair of Aquazzura heels you wanted. 

“Aw, baby don’t do this” Trent groaned trying his best not to get frustrated with you. You hadn’t even found out ‘officially’ about your pregnancy yet and this was how your mood was. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thrilled by the possibility of nine months of this type of attitude. He just gave you a gentle smile trying not to deep it too much.  

“Well you’re not the one…” You began to start another snappy comment. “Nevermind, I’m sorry.” You exhaled with a sad smile seeing him sit down on an ottoman in the wardrobe patient as ever ready to listen. “Hi…” You pouted at him. “I missed you all day.” You sulked feeling sorry for being so short tempered with him after he was nothing but kind. You came and sat on his lap, draping your arms over his shoulders. You snuggled into him.

“There she is. Hi, baby.” He kissed your temple. “Missed you so so much. I missed you all day and I will next week, you know. So can you please come with me?” Trent segued into his quest to get you to go to Milan with him. You both had been invited to the Prada Spring/Summer Fashion Show. Since your British GQ article came out your status just socially really took off. You were getting invites, your following on Instagram skyrocketing even more, PR requests for more opportunities came flooding in. God bless him, Tyler was helping you out in the meantime but simultaneously trying to get you set up with an agency to work with because he and Trent didn’t really have the resources in the women’s fashion world that were relevant for who and what you were getting requests about. 

“No, I don’t think so, T.” You shyly and selfishly told him. You had decided to go, then not go, then go, and now were currently in a ‘not go’ phase. It was all very exciting initially, slightly overwhelming, sure, but since the whirlwind change of going from simply a mum to a pregnant woman with a 2 year old made you less interested in flying around for shows or frivolous trips down to London for dinners with brands. You were of course grateful and flattered you were invited but leaving Teddy and additionally getting dressed up, trying to look good when you felt anything but, like you’d already gained weight, when your self confidence was plummeting, when your skin felt less than, it was just too much. “Everyone is just going to say I gained weight.” You oversimplified your mind's tornado of thoughts, looking at him with a lot of fear behind your eyes.  

“You haven’t.” He confirmed. He actually completely disagreed. He thought you looked great, You looked gorgeous with a more healthy glow than usual, in fact. You visibly didn’t look all that different from a month or so ago till this moment. No real physical signs of pregnancy had really begun to show but maybe there had been a bit of a placebo effect happening in the mirror now that you knew..

“I have, I’ve been weighing my…” You started talking and then trailed off as Trent’s eyes grew wider with inquiry, a little shocked and frankly, annoyed to hear that you were doing something he really hoped you’d forgotten about entirely.

“Baby…” He cautioned you. He was fairly stern, hanging on to the things you’d promised you’d keep to for your health, for the health of his child’s mother, for the health of your relationship, really. He hated the idea of ‘tough love’ with you but he cared enough to do it. 

“T… I had to know.” You poorly defended your actions, falling back into unhealthy ways. You were using your fluctuating emotions as an excuse to swerve back into old habits that provided a bizarre form of solace for yourself. It gave you an uncomfortable feeling of comfort. It was a semblance of control you were able to create. You needed to know.  

“You don’t. Baby, you do not. Come on, we have to manage this better, Y/N. I’m not doing all that again. I’m so serious. I love you and it’s just not happening again.” Trent was very very serious. He was not messing about. Now that he knew what was at risk, what happened after Teddy was born, your essential collapse, not a shot in hell he was letting you two fall anywhere back near that place. “How can I help? How can I make you happy, just for today? We’ll deal with tomorrow, tomorrow. Let me help.” He asked you, insisting you let him in. He ran one of his hands up and down your back.

“Can I just have a kiss please.” You sighed and asked him with a childish pout. You knew Trent would baby you if you even gave him a sliver of space to do so. He was ready to give some sort of ‘tough love’ but the way you batted your lashes and your bottom lip rolled, had him crumbling almost every time. 

“Always. C’mere beautiful. C’mere.” He cooed, pulling you gently by the back of your neck with his big hand into a soft kiss. He hummed loving the feeling of your lips on him and you definitely didn’t disagree. 

“Will you be mad if we have another girl?” You asked a little nervously. You couldn’t control anything like the gender of your baby so asking for his opinion was a little bit of a doomed thing to do. That said, no matter what he’d say you weren’t sure you’d believe him either way. You knew he loved being a girl dad but a part of him and yourself of course wanted a little boy. 

“Nah, we just have to keep trying don’t we?” He teased trying to lighten the mood, pecking your lips once more with a cheeky smile. Your face didn’t change so he quickly kept talking. “I’m joking baby… absolutely not. Look how beautiful Ted is, how beautiful you are. I’d love another Alexander-Arnold girl in my life.” He told you honestly and you took a deep breath thankful. Even if he wasn’t being totally truthful you appreciated him saying that. You think he was being honest though. 

“What should I wear tonight?” Trent asked you a bit later on as you were finalizing your look for your dinner date with him with lip gloss in the en-suite of your bedroom. He evidently hadn’t gotten dressed yet despite your initial plan to leave the house in 10 minutes. 

“T…” you laughed. “Are you serious? I thought you were ready to go?” You asked him, staring back at him leaned against the door frame behind you still in his joggers through the mirror. He just winked back at you. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.” You teased.  

“Pretty and in need of my pretty girl’s help so...” He cooed, waiting for you to give him the assistance he was looking for. 

“The blue Rhude knit shirt I got you, please!” You called out as he had already turned to leave the en-suite to go into your wardrobe. He hummed as you layered a coat of the shiny gloss over your plump pink bottom lip. 

“Can I wear Dior pants? You know those ones…” He yelled his fairly vague question for you to hear. Despite his vagueness you knew what he meant. You smacked your glossy lips together with a smile. Trent had done a full 360 on his opinion on your help with his clothing. Yes, 360. He had initially let you help him, to try to get in your good graces because he had a crush on you, he wanted to show you he respected you. Then as you got more comfortable in your relationship, he tried to hold his ground. He could feel himself slipping, that he had no backbone when it came to you. Even if he knew that your suggestion was the better option, he’d stay with his choice just to prove a point. He was stubborn and you loved him for that. Now? Now, he wanted you to do it all the time. He preferred you to pick for him. 

“I like those if you want but I’d kind of prefer a navy pant. Can you do the blue Prada ones? I like them better with like the LV cream and white trainers.” You rattled on and Trent smiled listening to you as he combed through his things looking for what you were instructing him to wear. Minutes later as you were rushing to throw everything in your Pucci bag, he came out changed and somehow ready before you. 

“I did good, no?” He smiled big like a little kid proud of his look that you had put together as if he had done it all on his own.  

“Yeah, very good, baby.” You laughed and he hummed victoriously. “Going to give me any credit? You know people used to pay me to do this?” You told him with a smug face waiting for your kudos.

“You always know what looks best but is it the clothes or is it me though?” Trent cooed and you rolled your eyes at his cockiness. He came towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “How am I meant to afford you though? You're priceless, baby.” He kissed your hair. You gave him one more eye roll even though your heart was fluttering at the things he was saying to you. “Fine, fine, I’ll pay you for your services, hmm? Promise. Taking you out to dinner, who says I don’t have a little gift for my baby, and I absolutely promise when we get home... I’ll give you one of my best services in return, yeah?” He kept talking, letting his voice drop lower and closer to a whisper coming to press his lips to your ear. A shiver ran up your spine subsequently.  

“Yeah… okay. I’ll accept all that. Still might be a little short but… It’s fine.” You tried your hardest  to focus on keeping the fun game of banter going and not get distracted by his switch up. You moved out of his hold heading to the door out of your room to the hall to leave for dinner.   

“A little short! How!?” He yelped, chasing after you. He kept an offended face but he loved when you’d mess about with him.

“I gave you a child!” You snapped turning around to face him with a conniving grin. 

“I gave you a child! That was a shared endeavor!” He rebuttled his correction as he wrapped his arms around you frantically dragging you back into the room with him walking backwards. “Hey, hey, hey. We made that little girl together. If you want I’ll refresh your memory on how we did it, alright?” He spoke with a cheeky smile that had your heart racing.  

“Later. We have to go. I hate being late for reservations.” You pecked his lips, placing your hands on top of his and removing them from your body. You actually left the room this time successfully to get downstairs. 

“I knowww.” He groaned having to readjust himself in his pants after your heated conversation. 

“Can I start you off with some cocktails?” The waitress asked you. You were sat at a small table across from him in a dimly lit restaurant. The same type of lighting that he had looked so gorgeous in on your first date. The one that had you practically stuttering and hiding behind your hands or your cocktail. You felt the same unfairness looking at him. Even years later, he was stunning.  

“Erm.. yeah... Oh no, wait actually, I’m okay, thank you though.” You stumbled through your answer momentarily, almost forgetting you were pregnant and couldn’t order the margarita you usually liked to order at this restaurant. Trent smiled, reaching out to brush his finger over your knuckles pretty happy for the reason you weren’t not drinking. 

“And for you?” The waitress raised her eyebrow, practically licking her lips at Trent. She had this tone in the way she asked him that insinuated you were boring for not drinking. You wanted to stand up and tell her you were not drinking because the man, also your husband, she was currently undressing with her eyes fucked a baby into you but you would never, you certainly thought about though. 

“No, we’re alright. Just two waters…” He paused. “Lemon?” Trent looked to you for confirmation so you nodded. “Yeah. Lemon, please. Thank you.” He sweetly nodded to her, flicking his gaze back to you. 

“Ridiculous.” You teased him as the waitress left your table. You rolled your eyes at the situation.  

“What?” He looked at you fairly confused and very naively because the look on your face was one of sincerity and familiarity he didn’t recognize why.

“Just the influx of women all day. How do you even know you want me when you have so many options?” You asked. It came out so bitter and insensitive. You didn’t mean to come off so harsh, it's just that it was a matter of fact, women came up to him all the time.

“Wow… erm.” Trent kind of choked getting out a response. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“T, I…” You tried to explain through a stutter but he cut you off before you could even get out that you didn’t mean it as a jab. 

“Nah, nah. I’m gonna answer because you clearly want to know.” He smiled at you with a confidence that made you feel a little insecure. You felt guilty it came out that way. You weren’t trying to be critical of him. You’d be lying if you said the attention from women didn’t bother you a little bit it wasn’t his fault. He never fed into it. “I know, baby, because you are the only woman I see. Don’t roll your eyes yet, alright?  Let me explain this. You are illuminated and they all are just dulled out in my vision. I barely even see them. They don’t have the same light behind their eyes. Their laughs don’t sound right. They don’t make my heart hurt when they leave. I can feel it when you're close by and they don’t feel right, their energy isn’t right for me. You're everything they don’t even know they aren’t. Everything you are is everything I’ve ever wanted.” He told you with certainty keeping his eyes locked on yours. 

“Oh…” you sheepishly got out wanting to hide embarrassed but you kept your eyes fixed on him, feeling a bit more comfortable and braver than your first date. You didn’t want to look anywhere but those perfect brown eyes. 

“I get an ‘oh’ in response?” He laughed a little at your shyness teasingly. You had more on your mind but that was the only word that would come out. 

“No I just…” You didn’t know what to say or how to articulate it maybe. You felt flustered like you were just meeting all over again. You looked at him with doe eyes feeling insecure despite the massive rock on your finger telling you to feel otherwise. 

“Baby, I don’t think you’ll ever understand what you do to me. Wrapped me around these dainty little fingers.” Trent smiled, pulling on your ring finger clearly on the same page as you. “It’s unfair what you do to me and I love every second of the inconsideration you unknowingly took on my heart.” He continued. 

“I don’t know if I agree that I have that effect but I know that I feel that way about you.” You shyly said to him with a cheeky smile though. Trent shook his head disagreeing with your disagreement. “It’s strange, no? To feel so out of control about the way you feel for someone.” Your smile grew and you felt like so did the size of your heart. 

“Yeah, like there’s nothing I can do. You got me, baby. No getting rid of me now because you’re all I want and I’m never living without you.” Trent gave you a smirk that made butterflies swarm your stomach. 

“No, nothing at all.” You giggled. “Just completely at yours, pretty boy.” You smiled at him and Trent felt his heart falter just the same as he watched the warm candle light flicker across your face. “But that’s good you feel that way because I’m not leaving you so you’re stuck with me… well us too.” You smiled again, placing your hand on your stomach referring to you, your daughter Teddy, and your unborn little baby. 

“I love you, beautiful… all of you.”  Trent cooed, keeping his eyes on you in the soft lighting. You were full and you haven't even eaten yet. You were full from the way he made your heart feel.

“More than you can imagine, T.” You responded with tears pushing their way to your lash line. You weren’t even sure if this merited the amount of emotion you felt but regardless you were feeling it. Maybe it was pregnancy or maybe it was him. 

“Got you a little something.” Trent handed you a sizable familiar orange box across your table. He could have waited till you got home but Trent loved doing this. He wanted you to feel special. It made you feel special. You opened the box cautiously. A blue Hermes blanket embroidered again with ‘Baby Alexander-Arnold’ on it.

“Oh…” You whimpered out. Maybe this did warrant the tears that were now about to spill over your lash line.

“You and Ted like the one we got for her, you know and I want this baby and mummy to be happy and cozy together as well the same way. I also thought it was special last time. We could get one for every kid and I just… Do you like it?” He asked you a bit shyer than you were expecting considering how much you did love it. 

“T, it's perfect.” You officially started crying. You were quiet but clearly a bit overtaken by the emotion and how sweet Trent was, not just tonight but all the time, every day. 

“Wow, that's so chic.” The waitress came back to the table to check on you interrupting an intimate moment. This was the first thing for your new baby. 

“Sorry, do you mind if we have a moment?” Trent snapped fairly quickly to her. It was still polite but he kept his eyes locked on yours. You smiled considerately. Your favorite moment in the world, selfishly, was when Trent put you above anyone. It wasn’t about anyone else right now but you two. 

You changed when you got home, tired of being in your heels. You sat cuddled up to Trent back in the cinema kissing on his soft skin as he watched a NBA game on the big screen, it’s blue light filling the dark room. You had no idea who was even playing in the game. Your face was buried in the nape of his neck until a thought popped into your head. 

“What’s your favorite way to kiss me?” You smiled into another kiss against him with a hum. 

“What a question. I’m pretty happy with what you’re doing right now but the way I kiss you? I don’t know, baby. Just when it’s soft, slow. I get to hold you nice and tight to me. Even though it’s gentle, when it's still heated and I know this sounds stupid but I can feel that you love me. Those are the ones for me.” He explained his answer to you in probably a more thoughtful way than you were expecting. Although, that seemed to be the theme of the night. You hummed and wrapped your arms around him a little tighter, giving him a squeeze before moving one of your hands up under his t-shirt continuing on with your task of kissing his neck simultaneously now rubbing your hand over his abs. “I really do like the ones though when I’m inside you and we're having a kiss and you moan into me. Oof baby, I don’t know… that gets me going. Biting on my lip a little as well. That’s up there for sure.” He smiled, dropping his gaze towards you. 

“T, baby…” you whined a little nibbling up his neck, littering his skin with kisses coming up to his jawline, moving towards his lips. 

“I love when you call me that.” He whispered to you moving your face off from him so he could turn his and look directly at you. He kept your cheek cupped in the palm of his hand. 

“Yeah?” You asked in a slightly childish tone but it was also laced with seduction. You kissed the inside of his wrist.

“Yeah. I like ‘T,’ I like ‘baby,’ I mean ‘dada’ always makes me smile.” Trent filled you in on his preferred names that you’d call him.  

“Daddy?” You teased him.  

“Yeah I mean fine, in the context of Ted but that’s more jokes between you and me.” He laughed trying to play it off like you hadn’t seen lust wash over him in the times you’d called him that in private. 

“Is it? Because I think it turns you on.” You giggled with a cheeky smile giving him a bit of a tease. 

“I think it turns you on!” He yelped defending himself, turning your accusation back on you with an equally if not more cheeky smile. 

“Depends on the context, you just turn me on.” You repeated his initial commentary. He hummed in agreement, pecking your lips. 

“Nah, but I do like when I get you to fall into this voice. It’s just for me. You slow. It’s breathy like you’re begging for something but it’s sweet and playful. Baby, I’m telling you now, you just got me down. Everytime you know exactly what I want to hear and how I want to hear it.” He cooed with a glint in eyes as his thumb gently caressed your cheek. 

“T, baby.” You cooed in just the tone of voice he was talking about unintentionally. It was soft and sexy, sincere and innocent. 

“That’s it, that's the one. Gets me every fucking time. That name. Only one in my life that’s ever called me that. And that tone is… just god.” He trailed off getting lost in the thought of you. 

“Oh, you like that? Like when I’m in your ear whining your name T, baby.” Your purposefully pushed yourself into him a little more saying it again. Your hands dropped towards the waist of his joggers. You teased him, dragging your nails over his abs.

“We’re going upstairs.” He quickly told you, disregarding his plan to watch this basketball game. He scooped you up like he did your 25 pound daughter, throwing you over his shoulder. You giggled excited for the rest of your night. He smiled as he jogged up the stairs holding you. 

“It’s so good to see you again!” A nurse came into the room you were seated anxiously in. You weren’t sure if she actually recognized you or if she simply just remembered the last name and Trent’s memorable but also famous face. You definitely remembered her though. She was sweet and super helpful through your entire pregnancy with Teddy. 

“Yeah, course. We’re excited to be here.” Trent eagerly responded, squeezing your hand in his. He was beaming. You were trying to be a bit more tame. You were nervous and not in the way he was. Trent was nervous, of course, but more about like your actual health than your capability to be a parent. He knew you both would be great. You were a bit more apprehensive about the concept of having two kids. You went through the formalities of the appointment. Second by second it ticked by and you just had a feeling as the transducer glided over your stomach with the cold gel that you knew the gender. You could feel it. You had a hunch but you didn’t share it with Trent ahead of the appointment. As the images filled the screen, you could hear your baby's heartbeat. The emotions became overwhelming. You thought you’d be prepared for this having done it once before. You were not.  

“I'm here, baby.” Trent whispered to you. Tears started to roll down your cheeks as you laid staring back at Trent. He wiped his thumb under your eye catching them like he always did. He kissed your temple softly. 

“So you’re coming in a little later this time I think. You’re already about 10 weeks along. It’s good you’re here though.” The nurse spoke gently, looking between you and Trent. Your eyes widened a bit, taken aback. 

“I’ve been pregnant for like… months…” You muttered back shocked. “I wasn’t like taking care of… I didn’t know.”  You were trying to reflect back and think about what was going on two months ago. You were panicking thinking about if you had somehow messed something up already with this pregnancy. The nurse kept speaking to you about how essentially you were fine. You weren’t able to focus though you were combing through the events of the last couple week but Trent was. Two months ago it was early November and Winnie had visited. That made you fairly nervous. You were trying to remember everything you did with her. Trent had a memory like an elephant though so he had the same thought but immediately felt at ease recalling that you asked him if he felt a little sick that night. You did so you opted not to drink. It didn’t even occur to you that just by your own body’s instinct you had been doing everything just fine.

“Well, congratulations Alexander-Arnold’s, looks like you’re going to have one of each. You’re going to have a baby boy!” The nurse cooed sweetly. You had blacked out everything but the sound of your baby’s heartbeat until you heard her say that.

“Nah, nah, nah. No way.” Trent was shocked. He had mentally prepared himself to hear he was going to have another girl. The tears that slowly leaked from the corner of your eyes just began to flood as you sat up a little. The disbelief in Trent’s face made you giggle. His head snapped from the nurse to you. “Holy shit, baby.” He exhaled with a bewildered expression. His eyes watered. He cupped your face and pressed his nose against yours letting his eyes flutter closed. 

“Going to have a little boy.” You pouted before pressing a kiss to his lips. “That okay, T?” You asked him even though you knew this was his dream.

“I… I … I don’t know what to say. Oh my god.” Trent ran his hands over his face trying to process wha he just heard. He puffed out a heavy breath. “I’ve never been happier in my life. I mean.. fuck.” He slapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry.” He apologized to the nurse after he kept cursing but she waved him off. “I mean it's the same type of happiness but it’s so different then when we found out about Ted. Holy fuck. I can’t believe I get to have a son with you.” He shook his head and started to cry. Anytime Trent cried you knew it was seriously important to him.

“Yeah, our little son. Baby boy Alexander-Arnold. I hope he’s just like you, T.”  You pulled Trent down to squeeze him in a tight embrace. He held onto you while the doctor printed out the photos of the scan for you. 

“I love you. I love you more than anything in the entire world. Thank you so much for carrying our little boy. I can’t wait for our family to grow. I’m so excited. I can’t believe we’re going to have a boy. Thank you, thank you.” Trent babbled just in complete and utter shock. 

“Going to be another fall baby, I guess. Have to ask Winn about his astrology.” You cooed and Trent rolled his eyes. You laughed, kissing his cheek. Trent wasn’t exactly sold on the whole thing but Winnie was. It was something she lived her life by. You just wanted him to understand this baby would arrive in the fall. He was so taken aback that you were having a boy you weren't sure he’d put the math of the timeline together yet. He didn’t care when this baby arrived though. He was over the moon. The nurse handed you the photos of the scan of your baby. You held them inspecting your growing baby boy for the first time. Trent placed his hand on your stomach gently and hid his face in your neck a little overcome with emotion till. Having a son was unreal to him. It was something he had dreamed of. You knew he would never put pressure on your little boy but the idea he could potentially have a son who played football was everything he ever wanted. This was unbelievable that he’d even have the opportunity to even play footie in the back garden with his son. He, of course, would treat him and Teddy just the same but there was something special about having a son. The same way you felt something special about having a daughter. “I love you so much, T. You’re going to be the best daddy to him. I’m so happy, baby.” You hummed, finally feeling the excitement of this pregnancy seeing his reaction as you kissed his temple, holding him. 

“I wonder what Teddy will think.” He pulled away from you with wet eyes and a smile. You smiled back and started to deep it. God, you hoped she’d be excited as you two were right now. 

“You know that’ll be tough.” Trent cooed while driving as you sat in the passenger seat.  

“What do you mean?” You asked him curiously with a smirk knowing it was going to be something close to ludacris. 

“I mean he’s gotta live up to me? Tough no?” Trent explained, keeping his eyes fixed on the road.   

“Stop.” You scoffed at him. You knew he was joking but also it did actually cross your mind when you heard what your little boy's life might end up like having to constantly be compared to Trent. You had already been pondering what to name him because originally you loved the idea of all your kids having ‘TAA’ initials but you also were worried about the ramifications or burden it might be to carry that name. It was different for Teddy. It felt like she had the protection of the surname where it felt like with a boy, your little boy, the surname might act more as a target against him. 

“Nah, I’m being forreal though, I don’t want his mates teasing him for having a leng mum picking him up.” Trent kept a straight face. You had been worried about what it was like to have Trent as a dad whereas, even though he was joking about, he’d definitely clocked a worry he’d been harboring about how people looked at you. Not derogatorily about you at all. He wanted to protect you. He just knew how sensitive you were and how shitty people could be. He knew how you felt when people said things now like the ever circulating ‘with him for his money comment’ or ‘trapped him with babies’ narrative. He didn’t want anything like those types of things to affect your ability to be a mum and be present with them. 

“Well, I mean you don’t think that will happen with Teddy’s guy friends?” You asked him with a cheeky smirk of your own. 

“She’s not having guy friends. I don’t know what you’re on about.” Trent seriously responded and fast to your remark. 

“Oh shush.” You swatted at him. It was a stupid comment but you also knew he kind of meant it. 

“Nah never. Staying home with me every night. Ted doesn’t know boys exist.” He snapped with a bit of a laugh. Trent wanted Teddy to be his baby girl forever and that was becoming more and more apparent. 

“Except she does. She’s surrounded by you lot all the time.” You informed him. Teddy was around boys and you 24/7. Between Trent, Marcel, Tyler, George, Jude, the list rattled on.

“That’s different. Boys are mad these days. I’m her dad and their uncles. Boys her age. Nah, absolutely not.  I’m talking when she’s like older, boys in her school year, absolutely not. They can’t be near her and they can’t look at her… or you. I couldn’t have seen what you look like now in bed when I was 13 or 14. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it, ya know?” Trent breathily laughed.  “Would’ve just wanked all day. Fucking hell.” He laughed a little more imagining his younger self seeing the images he got to see day in and day out in your bedroom. Frankly, even out of the bedroom. 

“Ew, first, gross.” You giggled along with him thinking it was equally as funny. You rubbed your hand tenderly on his thigh. “Secondly, no one else is seeing what you’re seeing. Also, what I don’t have that effect on you now? Grown Trent isn’t as easily swayed?” You teased, questioning him sliding your hand higher up and higher up his leg. 

“Nah, relax. I’m telling you now baby… it’s fucking work.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I’m fighting for my life out here, every day.” He groaned as you palmed over his hardening cock as he tried to focus on the task of driving, proving his point. You giggled moving your hand off him with a smug smile pretty content with yourself. 

When Trent came home from another day after training. You were sitting on the couch minding your own waiting for him to get home. You were tired and catching up on an episode from a show you were watching on Netflix. You heard Trent come in through the garage door but you were too lazy to get up. He snuck in dropping his stuff and dragged his equally tired body on top of yours. He laid his entire weight on top of you. He just started kissing your skin all over, anywhere he could without a word.

“Hi.” You giggled wrapping your arms around his strong body rubbing your hands up and down his back covered by a jumper as he continued on his quest to kiss every inch of you. “That made me smile, T.” You told him. When Trent needed you, when he was soft with you, he didn’t ask for cuddles, he just took them and that was one of your favorite Trents.   

“Do anything to make you smile.” He mumbled with his face staying buried in the nape of your neck.

“I love you, T. That made me really happy.” You gave him a cheesy smile as he pulled away to hold your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. 

“I love you, baby. Couldn’t wait to get back home to you.” He hummed kissing your nose.  

“Did you see daddy’s home, Teddy girl?” You cooed a little louder for Teddy who was presumably still somewhere close by playing with the dogs. She heard you and came running and fast. 

“Yeah daddy just got home and I am still waiting for my hello from my baby bear. How come you weren’t at the door?” Trent asked Teddy as she rounded the couch, giving her a tired but equally cheeky smile. 

“I’m sorries I… I… was with doggies.” Teddy babbled out feeling guilty. She usually met Trent at the door. She liked to but she had gotten distracted today and your own laziness hearing him come in didn’t help. 

“Ted, beautiful, I’m kidding. Come here. Did you give mummy a kiss today?” He called her over and reached out to her. He picked her up under her little arms and lifted her up onto the couch. He had moved off you and pulled her into his lap. He kissed her cheek. You smiled seeing them back together and laid your head onto his chest to listen to their conversation. She nodded that she had and she did. “How many?” He asked her one more question.

“Don’t knows, dada.”  She looked up at him with doe eyes with guilt washing over her again. She felt so bad she couldn’t remember. 

“That’s not enough then is it?” Trent cooed with a gentle smile. He cupped her cheek. She smiled back at him with a little giggle sensing his teasing tone. Trent nodded towards you  encouraging her to go on. 

“Mama here go.” Teddy cutely gave you a kiss. You laughed back at her with a thank you.

“Just one? You’re only going to give mummy one more!” Trent yelped, plopping her onto her feet. He stood up and began to chase Teddy around the couch. She squealed excitedly that he was home to play with her. You didn’t really have that vitality about you lately.  They both seemed to have endless energy, you didn’t feel that way. To be fair, one was under three and the other was a professional athlete. You couldn’t keep up… you were a pregnant woman.  You sighed though loving their laughs imagining what life would be like once your new addition arrived. You turned around and laid your arms onto the back of the couch. You rested your chin on top of them watching the cute chaos ahead of dinner ensue. 

“Teddy girl, can you come here please?” You cooed while taking a seat on the couch in your living room. She was laying on the carpet playing with a few toys.  She picked her head up and nodded. You were entering the middle of your second trimester, just starting the month of May. You had an appointment with your doctor yesterday and decided with Trent that it was a good time to finally tell Teddy. You had decided that you’d tell your families in the middle of the month so you figured or at least you hoped your two and half year old could keep a secret for you till then, it was roughly 14 days, you thought she could. Trent had just come home. He was grabbing both you and him a drink before he came to sit with you to break the news Teddy wasn’t going to be an only child for much longer. 

“Dada!” Teddy giggled, getting slightly distracted by his appearance in the room. She ran up to him and clung to Trent’s leg. He let her hold on while he dragged her with him to sit next to you.  

“Yeah, yeah, yeah I’m here, hi, but come on. Mummy and I have to tell you something.”  Trent laughed at her overzealousness. 

“Tay. Is it a secret?” She asked inquisitively. Letting go of Trent and pulling herself up onto the couch using his body like a jungle gym and crawling into his lap. She sillily laid out flat letting her head gently fall into your lap. It was strange but sweet that it was like she somehow subconsciously knew she couldn't be as rough with you anymore so she funneled all her energy into the way she’d grab at Trent.  

“Yeah, my Teddy bear. It’s between you, daddy, and I, okay?” You explained starting to feel more emotional now seeing her looking like a real toddler in your lap. It was sort of sad she wasn’t your little baby any more. That she’d be your ‘oldest’ now. 

“Tay tell! Dada tell!” She just about yelled pulling on your shirt sitting herself up. She wiggled her body to sit on Trent’s leg closet to you and draped herself around your neck in a hug. 

“Okay, but it’s a secret, got it? You have to pinky promise, okay?” Trent smiled at her. She nodded and let go of you sticking her pinky out to him, something Trent had recently taught her to do. It was over ridiculous things and she often broke them to tell you about her promises with daddy or tell Trent about her promises with mummy. You hoped that the sacred binds of the pinky promise really stuck better this time. “ Good. Thanks, Ted. So mummy and daddy are really excited right now because there’s a baby growing in mummy’s tummy.” Trent just laid it out in the open brining his hand to gently rub over your stomach for her to understand. Your breath hitched a little. You had discussed this. This was the plan but you just weren’t ready to hear it or something. Trent had no fear. He definitely lived by the ‘just rip it off’ method.  

“You’re going to have a little brother after summer time.” You explained to her the facts a little further, running your hand over her head. You gave her a sympathetic smile, praying she wasn’t going to be upset. 

“Um…” Teddy hummed looking between you and Trent momentarily. “Whys?” She asked you two earnestly. It was better than maybe a ‘no’ you tried to tell yourself.  

“What do you think, baby?” Trent asked her. You had consulted your doctor about best practices for telling a toddler and she had advised that letting them think about it would often help you navigate the conversation so you answered the questions they had. 

“Don’t knows, dada.” She replied with a sad pout. Her face dropped. You could read her expression. It was as if she felt bad she didn’t know the answer, like it was something she should have known so you were quick to help her and reassure her it was fine. 

“That’s okay, baby. We want there to be another member of our family because we love each other so much.” You emphasized the word so kissing her forehead. “Mummy and daddy made a baby and he’ll grow in my tummy till the end of summer then he’ll come out when he’s ready.” You explained a little more sheepishly than you would’ve liked. You laid your hand over your growing round belly for her to see. You hoped this was all making sense. 

“Replacing me?” Teddy’s voice quivered as she asked you with a frown. Her eyes falling into the pools that would always break your heart.  

“No, no, no, baby!  Just making you a best friend, okay?” You cooed fast, immediately making sure she understood that was definitely not the point of this. You wrapped her in your arms, pulling her into a cuddle. You ran your hand up and down her back gently. 

“No, baby bear. We love you so much.” Trent reassured her, kissing her sad pout. “Did you know that Celly is daddy’s little brother? So you’ll have your own ‘Celly.’ Isn’t that cool?” Trent further explained the concept a little more. Teddy adored Marcel so making it out like she was getting something she really liked of her own hopefully would work as an enticement.  

“Tay, like Celly.” Teddy nodded but kept a fairly stoic face. You could tell she was still processing but at least the tears that had welled were gone. She had the cutest expression of thought on her face. “What’s my celly doing in theres?” She asked, turning to you. Trent smiled victoriously, liking that his idea of broaching the baby as the concept of her getting a Marcel of her own had worked. 

“Oh... erm, well your baby brother is just growing bigger and bigger until he’s ready to come out.” You cooed rubbing her little arms. “Do you think he's sleeping now or awake?”  You asked. 

“I think he’s awake.” Trent interjected with his own opinion with a smile letting Teddy know this was a happy, fun thing they could talk about. 

“Umm…” Teddy thought for a moment. “Think sleeps cause mama comfy.” She explained cuddling into you. You hummed pulling her into you more. 

“Yeah, you’re right, Ted. Mummy is comfy, I think maybe he is then.” Trent cooed and Teddy nodded. “Is there anything else you want to know about your brother?” Trent asked her, rubbing his thumb over her chubby cheek.

“No, tank you.” Teddy cooed still ardently hugging you. Trent hummed accepting her answer but very aware that the following days, weeks, and months were going to be chock full of questions from her. “Mama…dada. Still love me with nother baby?”

“More than you can ever imagine, I promise. You have to promise me though that you’ll always be my baby bear, okay?” Trent pressed his nose to her with a silly smile. She giggled with another nod. 

“Yeah. Mummy and daddy’s little Teddy bear forever. Baby, I will love you just the same. Maybe even more, okay beautiful? Going to be a good big sister for me?” You asked Teddy and she gave you a sweet ‘tay.’ 

“Mama?” She looked up at you. You smiled at her and hummed a ‘mmhm.’ “Be big sissy like mama with WinWin?” She asked you and your heart just about shattered. Obviously Trent’s explanation of having a sibling relating it to his relationship with Marcel stuck. She’d been thinking about it more and more since he mentioned it. You tried to hum an answer but couldn’t contain your tears. You sniffled unable to talk. 

“Yeah, baby. You can be just like mummy and be the best big sister like her, okay? Do you want to be like mama?” Trent was quick to act, pulling both you and Teddy into him. He kissed your temple.

“Yeah huh, be like mama. Mama best.” Teddy cooed and you just kept crying. She didn’t know why but Trent got it. It was half that you were emotional about your daughter wanting to be like you and thinking highly of you and half that you were just pregnant and emotional.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🤍 We're coming to the end. Going to post Chapter 30 and then probably an Epilogue.

Next part - The Final Part | Chapter 30 xx

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Sugar, Sugar 13

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WC- 3.1k

warnings- mentions of disordered eating and bad relationship with food, body issues, fad diet mention, bad relationship with a parent, body shaming, etc

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“So, spill. How was it?” Delilah asked as she eyed Y/N. 

“How was what?” Playing coy behind the counter, she did the initial cash wrap check as she avoided her best friend’s eyes. She knew exactly what she was talking about. 

“Getting railed half to death.” She deadpanned, making Y/N choke on her laughter. “Don’t play games with me, girl. I can see your literal glow.” She paused, her eyes moving south. “And your man has a nasty habit of biting you.” He did. Y/N knew exactly where the hickey was on her collarbone, but her wrap she had on over her lacy tank top usually hid it. She was just careless this morning and didn’t think about it being on display. 

“He is quite bad with that, isn’t he?” She snorted, turning to her friend with giddy light in her eyes. “Great. Better than I expected. Made me really comfortable and I spent the whole night and day.. Y’know.” Her face felt hot as she placed the cash into the register before starting up the POS and making sure everything would be right for when the day ended. “I was worried for nothing. The man is kinda unreal, if I’m being honest. I was taken care of in every way. I shouldn’t be surprised considering he’s been really good to me so far.” Brushing her hair over her shoulder, the drawer was closed and she took note of her green tea, picking it up for a sip now that it wouldn’t burn her tongue. 

“It’s what you deserve.” Her friend smiled softly. “You deserve a great love like you read about in your books. Besides, I know you’re going to get it. It’s written in the stars.” She was joking, but also… not really. Delilah knew things without knowing how she knew them, and it was almost always true. “Where is he today? Are we expecting a drop in from him?”

“Actually, I don’t know.” Y/N hummed. He hadn’t replied after his initial good morning message but she wasn’t too worried about it. “He said something about stopping by the bakery. He had today off to go run errands so he’ll be dropping things off but I know I’m seeing him tomorrow. We’re going to that new pizza place.” She was excited about that. There was a flatbread she was looking forward to trying, and Harry had suggested getting two different things and splitting it. It was nice to feel comfortable eating with someone. That was one of the anxiety triggers she had to unlearn as she got older. 

“I think we’re going to get a drop in.” Taking one of the baskets they used for restocks, she went towards the tumble table and began to deposit the little baggies of colorful stones and minerals into the correct cubbies. “Have you brought up that Claire woman yet?”

Y/N hadn’t, very well for a reason. She didn’t like the feeling it gave her stomach. Somehow, she was well aware she and Harry had been involved. Somehow, someway. It didn’t seem strong, as she obviously couldn’t be that close to him anymore if she’s unable to contact him but… It still wasn’t a good feeling. The woman wasn’t nice, her energy was rancid and muddy, and she obviously looked down on them for believing in their own thing. That was the exact person she tried to avoid. Y/N knew it was perhaps rude to judge solely off of one interaction, but something told her Harry wouldn’t be happy to hear about her coming in. 

“Not yet.” She said sheepishly, spooning a bit of yogurt into her mouth. “I know, you don’t have to give me the eyebrow. I’m just… You know how it is. When you know it’s going to cause an issue.” Y/N didn’t think it would be with her but the idea of upsetting Harry at all wasn’t something she enjoyed. Being so new in the relationship, she wanted that honeymoon stage. It had been so lovely this far, she selfishly wanted to avoid the past and the real world from inserting themselves in her rose colored daydream with her dreamy new boyfriend. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how life worked. 

“Putting it off isn’t doing either of you any favors, Cher.” She gave her another look, hanging up a necklace back on the display. “I trust you to handle it on your own time, but do it soon. I have a feeling she isn’t done sniffing around yet.”

—--

“Hey.” A wide smile greeted her as she heard the chime of the bells on the door, seeing the man that had been on her mind. High waisted black pants with a flare at the bottom and a yellow tee shirt, he walked in with his boots clicking on the hardwood floor. Lifting his sunglasses off his face into his fluffy hair, he extended his arms to motion for her to walk into them. She did so without a question. How could she not? 

Falling into his warm scent, she nuzzled her face into his neck and allowed herself to be engulfed in him. Something about them felt closer now. More intimate. Maybe she was making it up but a layer had been shed and he felt even more close to her soul. Lips pecked a few times into her hair, swaying her back and forth as her fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, a relieved sigh leaving the man. “Y’alright, Sugar?”

“Mhm.” She nodded against him. “Tired. Spilled my coffee a quarter through but it’s been a bit busy today so we haven’t had the chance to get away. You win some, you lose some.” She’d rather be a little tired and making money, giving readings, all of that. 

“Should have texted me.” His tongue clicked, finally getting a good look at her as she pulled out of his neck. Didn’t she realize he’d do almost anything for her? “Would have brought you some over, sweets. What good is having a boyfriend if you’re not gonna use me?” He was joking, but not really. He knew that he’d bend over backwards for the girl in his arms. 

“In all honesty, I didn’t even think about it. I knew you were busy today running errands and we had a lot of walk in readings, I’ve been a little busy.” Her fingers ran through his hair again, liking how it felt between them. He always melted like a pup getting pets when she did it too, so it was a win win. “Did you get everything done that you needed?”

“I did.” He moved on swiftly. “Are you sayin’ you didn’t eat?” His brow raised, making her wince. Sometimes she forgot, but it wasn’t on purpose. It was genuine distraction. “Baby…” 

“I had a yogurt and granola bar. I was planning on making some food when I got home, but I was busy. Promise.” She tried her luck at a pout which luckily seemed to break down the glare. 

“Too bad.” He sighed. “M’gonna run and get you both food. I don’t like this, Sugar.” Large hands cupped her face, making her feel more delicate than she ever had been. Sometimes it felt hard to lean into that femininity of delicacy when she’d been treated as the opposite most of her life, but Harry had her falling into it so easily. “I know you’re a big girl and you can handle yourself, but it’s okay to ask me for help. I want to help you, I want to be a good boyfriend and grab your things when you’re busy. I know you’d do the same for me.” She already had. The girl had given him a whole welcome basket when he opened his own business, for fucks sake. 

“I know. It’s…” Feeling slightly guilty now, she rested her hands on his wrists. “It’s a hard habit to break. I’ve been independent for years now and I don’t like to rely on people.” It was always thrown back in her face. “I’ll try harder, H. Promise.” Turning her head, she caught his palm with her lips and pressed kisses to it. That move melted him completely, leaning down to kiss her lips a few times before peeling himself away. 

“Good girl. I’ll be back in a bit. Be good for me.”

Y/N hated to see him go, but she loved to watch him leave. Still buzzing from the affection, she jumped as Delilah came out of the back room fanning herself. 

“That man is completely gone for you. Lord…” She shook her head. “What a guy. I’m glad he wants to take care of you, Cher. You deserve it.” Her hand squeezed her shoulder as she slipped past her. 

“It has nothing to do with the fact he’s getting you lunch too?” She snickered, watching her friend shrug. 

“That definitely helps.”

—--

Y/N’s good mood was squashed just 10 minutes later when a familiar face walked through the shop doors, nose wrinkling at the scent of the incense. 

God, why now? 

“Y/N, I’ve told you that these smoky scents are going to drive away customers.”

Yeah, that was the point. Drive away customers with impure intentions. 

“Hi, Mother.” Y/N sighed, feeling her shoulders tighten as she watched the woman come closer into the shop. Her tumultuous relationship with her mother had a lot to do with the fact that Y/N reminded her of her own. They’d been extremely close, sharing their love of the spiritual world, of magic, all the things while her mom had rejected it. Y/N had been easier to bond with for her grandmother and she knew she held resentment over it for years. 

She wasn’t an awful person, was the thing. She liked to support her at school, took her shopping for makeup, taught her how to do her hair and tie her shoes. She held her when she was sick, stuck up for her when she got bullied- but she didn’t realize she herself was her daughter’s first and biggest bully. 

“Hello. It’s been weeks since you’ve visited me or your father.” She sent her a look. “Are you well? Do you need money? I know the shop is a bit of a hard venture to keep up…” 

There it was. Her mother had always hated this shop. Hated what it stood for, what it represented. Y/N never faulted or judged someone for not believing or being connected in the things she was. It was a calling, she truly believed, whether natural or brought on by a life event. But her mother thought it to be a bit of a waste of time. Always expecting her downfall, though she didn’t think she was cruel enough to hope for it. 

“No, we’re actually doing incredibly well.” It was the truth. They were making bigger profits than the years before and she was more than glad about that. They’d paid off the loan they took out and now they were working towards a possible expansion. But her mom didn’t want to hear about that. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve been a bit busy.” 

Her mom gave her a scrutinizing eye, unsure if she believed her. Y/N wasn’t usually a busy person, despite the shop. She liked a slower lifestyle and she knew that, which is why she understood the look on her face. “Have you gone back to the gym like I asked? I haven’t seen you there. I can go with you, you know. I think you’d love my trainer. He’s very dedicated.”

There it was again. Y/N felt her stomach drop, though she should have expected it. Her mother was obsessed with her weight. She’d been the one to try and get her on diets at an early age, effectively ruining her relationship with food. While she knew her mother was someone who cared about her, sometimes she cared about the wrong things a bit too much. Once Y/N had made peace with the fact that she’d always be a bigger girl, her mother had pushed back at it causing more of a rift. She wasn’t going along with her plans and fad diets anymore, and it felt like a personal insult. 

“No, no. I’ve been busy with something else, actually.” With Harry. The pretty, driven, thoughtful man that had her tummy in knots and her head in the clouds. 

“Well, what? I’ve sent you dozens of recipes. I doubt you’ve tried them though. It looks like you’ve put on a bit of weight in the last few weeks. I thought you were making progress.” Her frown made Y/N’s stomach hurt. She’d resigned herself into knowing she would probably never get her mother’s approval on her body, but the reminders didn’t do much to make her feel good. Accepting it didn’t mean liking it. 

“I may have. I’ve been fine, though.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll come by for dinner next week, I promise. I just-”

The door chimed again, interrupting them both. Her stomach dropped as she saw Harry’s smiling face, something that usually would make her erupt into butterflies- but this wasn’t the introduction she wanted to make. Not quite yet. 

“I’m back, sorry. There was a line.” He murmured, going behind the desk and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her body flushed as she looked towards her mother, her eyes wide as Harry adjusted her hair for her before setting the food bag and coffee tray on the counter. “Sorry, I’ll step out of the way if you’re helping someone.”

“Who’s this?” Her mother’s interest was immediately evident. 

“I’m Harry, Y/N’s boyfriend. Nice t’meet you. What’s your name?” He asked, placing a hand on his girlfriend’s back. 

“H, this is my mother.” Y/N swallowed, looking between the two of them. She could see his eyes widen, reaching a hand out for her to shake. He was always so polite, so charming, but she couldn’t help but see the look on her mom’s face. 

“You’re her boyfriend?” She asked, brows raised. Her voice sounded in disbelief, looking between the two of them as if something didn’t add up. “I didn’t know she even had a boyfriend.” 

Thankfully she’d let him know she hadn’t exactly told her yet so he didn’t seem shocked about that, but the meeting was a little unorthodox. 

His brows did furrow at her tone and she could tell he didn’t like it. But for her sake he kept a smile on his face, shaking the woman’s hand lightly. “Yes, I am. M’quite gone for her. You raised an incredible woman, Ma’am.” He spoke earnestly. 

“Excuse my shock, I just didn’t realize….” She trailed off, still seeming confused. “Y/N does like her secrets, it seems. You’re very handsome. What do you do?” It was likeher mother to be nosy, sniffing out why exactly the man was around her daughter. Y/N could see that she was suspicious and it hurt her because she knew exactly why she was. 

She was making sure he wasn’t using her for another reason. For money or something else, because it was hard for her to believe a man as attractive as him would be with her for pure attraction and chemistry. 

“I actually own the bakery across the street.” He said easily. “Thank you for the compliment. She’s an incredible woman, so welcoming and kind. Beautiful to boot.” He meant every word, tapping the tip of her nose. “I don’t want to interrupt, though… I brought the girls lunch.” 

“Oh, it’s not trouble. I was coming because my daughter forgets she has a phone.” She shot her a look. “Why don’t you come to dinner next week with her? You’re more than welcome. Her father would be more than happy to meet you.” 

“If it’s alright with Y/N, I will.” He nodded, showing his loyalty immediately. Harry wouldn’t do anything that made his girl uncomfortable and he was dedicated to the cause. He was already unsure about the woman, but the next words solidified it for him. 

“Alright, whatever you decide. Just make sure she doesn’t have too many sweets from your bakery, hm? It’s starting to show again.” She was joking as if it was funny, patting her daughter’s hand before stepping back. “I hope to see you next week, Harry. Call me, Y/N, we have much to discuss.” 

Her mother was swift, walking out the door as quickly as she had come in. As soon as she was gone, the energy calmed and her shoulders fell, groaning low in her throat as she moved to hide her face in Harry’s chest again. He knew better than to talk, instead stroking over her hair as he let her recover from that interaction. 

Internally though, his view on her mother was soured. How dare she make a comment to not only her daughter about that, but to him? A man she was dating and obviously really liked her? Did she not realize how awful it was to comment on something like that? Y/N had told him that her relationship with her mother had been a weird one but he hadn’t expected her to say something cruel like that. It didn’t even seem to register that she was being mean, she genuinely seemed to think it was funny. 

“I’m sorry about that.” She sighed, pulling back from his chest. “She’s… she’s a lot. I promise she isn’t all bad, but she’s got quirks.” Her face pulled in a slight grimace, making him smile sadly at her as he caressed her warm cheek. 

“That wasn’t nice to say, but I have a feeling it isn’t something you want t’unpack in the middle of a work day.” It wasn’t something he felt could be properly discussed out here anyways. “We can talk about it tomorrow, if you want…but I just have to say this one thing.” His head dipped to get closer to hers. “I don’t mind if you gain or lose weight. I don’t care about that at all so long as you’re healthy and comfortable. I’ll never restrict you from eating, never make you feel as though you’re too much. I know you struggle with it, but I’m never going to contribute to that. I’m here to support you.” 

His words were genuine, eyes shining as he told her his truth. She could feel it radiating off of him and it made her want to tear up, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply to that before he smacked a kiss to her nose and pulled back to open the paper bag that had been stapled shut. “But now I want you to tell me if I did a good job choosing your meal, please. I did the caramel coffee with oat milk, iced. I remembered that bit.” 

Y/N wasn’t sure where the hell Harry had come from, but she was thankful for whoever had sent him. It seemed like she needed him now more than ever.

[slut4thebroken]

Erotomania pt. 2

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | Jon isn’t adjusting as well as you thought he would and his behavior finally breaks you.

Warnings | Angst, violence (on accident lol), blood, eating disorder? (technically), slow burn, a lil bit of sexual tension, he’s still really mean, and a little whiny lol.

Words | 4.3 k

Notes | Ty for everyone who helped me out w this lol.

Ao3 link | <3

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gif: @kittenonpluto

Part 1

The following morning, you woke up to your alarm and immediately turned it off. Your head hurt, your eyes felt puffy, and you were just so tired and drained. So you decided to call off work. As you were trying to fall back asleep, you almost didn’t register the sound of your door opening because of how tired you were. 

“You’re going to be late.” You whined and buried your face in the pillow. 

“I’m not going.” You mumbled. 

“Get up. I don’t want to be stuck with you the entire day.” He said sternly, bringing back all the emotions you were feeling last night. 

“I’ll stay in here then. I don’t exactly feel like doing much else besides this.” The bitterness in your tone was mostly overshadowed by the sadness you were desperately trying to hide. You waited for his response, but after a while, he just slammed the door shut. 

True to your word, you mostly stayed in your room. You left to go to the bathroom and sometimes get food, but you didn’t eat with him. The day was spent reading, doing some work to make up for missing a day, trying to distract yourself so you didn’t make yourself cry, and moping. Every time you went out he was always in the exact same spot. Before dinner, you showered and changed into some clean pajamas, not wanting to physically feel the same way you felt mentally. 

“Have you eaten today?” He almost seemed startled by your voice. “If you tell me what you want, I can try to make it.” You said softly. He didn’t respond or look at you and you sighed before continuing. “Why aren’t you eating?” You were quickly growing frustrated with his behavior. 

“You’re the psychologist, you tell me.” Deep down you knew why, especially based on his words yesterday, but you were still hoping it would be because of some kind of temporary hunger strike or something instead. 

“You’d really rather die than be here with me?” You couldn’t help the way your voice broke. 

“Yes.” He spat and you immediately frowned as your bottom lip trembled. 

“Fine.” You grabbed a carving knife from the knife stand and stormed over to him, making him quickly stand up and take a step away from you. Once you were a few feet from him, you tossed the knife onto the ground in front of him. “Do it then. If this is so terrible and you hate me so much then just fucking do it.” He stared at the knife and you waited impatiently. 

“Or better yet, kill me.” That made him look up again. “I know you want to— and I can’t fucking take this anymore so just do it.” He stared at you, then narrowed his eyes. 

“Are you serious? My rejection is making you suicidal?” He scoffed. Your eyes burned with tears and you rushed forward, making him step back, but you reached for the knife on the floor instead of him. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Now that it’s in your hand, you don’t know how you should do it— The carotid should hopefully be quick. When you raised the knife, he rushed forward and grabbed your arm, yanking it away from you. 

“Stop!” You cried, pulling back against his hold, trying to wrench yourself free. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” He asked, beginning to raise his voice now. His grip on your arm tightened as his other hand tried to take the knife from you. When you let out a choked sob and started crying, your arm went slack and the force of him pulling it away from yourself made your hand fly toward him. He couldn’t stop it before the blade sliced the top of his chest, making you gasp as he winced. He released you and staggered back, and you dropped the knife as if it had burned you. 

“Oh god— fuck. Are you okay?” His hand was pressed tight to the wound so you couldn’t see how bad it was but the pain on his face was evident. When you moved toward him, he stepped back again. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Even through the pain, his tone was still incredibly harsh. 

“I- I’m sorry. It was an accident.” You took another tentative step and he did the same, but his back met the wall. He leaned his weight against it and took a deep breath as his eyes fluttered shut. You quickly wiped your tears and tried to calm down long enough to think of what to do. 

As you examined him, you noticed the blood seeping through his fingers as his arm grew tired holding his hand tightly against the wound. You also noticed how pale and sweaty he got in that short amount of time. He was putting as much of his weight on the wall as he could now. 

Deciding to start with the imperative, you moved closer until you were in front of him and removed his hand to look at the wound, then put pressure on it. It wasn’t… that bad— it wouldn’t need stitches, but it still almost made you gag. He winced and opened his eyes as if to make sure he wasn’t just imagining you daring to come this close. 

“Get the fuck.. off…” His words slurred together and you could tell he was fighting to keep his eyes open. When his knees buckled, you tried to hide your distress, but that and the blood seeping through your fingers made it almost impossible to do so. 

“Okay.. okay, hang on.” You looked around for something to absorb the bleeding but there was nothing nearby other than a blanket that you haven’t washed recently. Tentatively releasing him, making sure he wouldn’t fall, you took your shirt off— feeling incredibly grateful that you decided to wear a bra— and pushed it against the wound. He let out a pained groan and your heart panged, knowing you were only worsening his suffering. “I know, I’m sorry. I have to press hard though.” He didn’t respond and just started sliding down the wall as his eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck.. fall on the couch, fall on the couch,” You held him up and guided him to the couch just as he lost consciousness. 

You could feel his chest moving under your hands so you knew he wasn’t dead, you were just worried about how to solve the malnutrition issue while he was unconscious. It’s not like you have an IV… so you’ll just have to wait until he’s awake. 

Lifting your shirt from his chest, you checked on the bleeding— it was definitely less, but it was still bleeding a decent amount. So you continued pushing down on it. While you waited, you let out a heavy breath and closed your eyes. That escalated so quickly, it felt like you’d been holding your breath since you picked up the knife. 

After a few minutes you checked again and decided it would be okay for you to run to the bathroom to grab a few things as well as some water and painkillers really quickly. When you returned, you kneeled on the couch next to him and tried to lift up the shirt he was wearing. Since it was yours, it was already a little tight on him, so it barely moved, especially because his back was against the couch. 

Minding the gash, you carefully took both sides of the now cut fabric and pulled as hard as you could. It ripped a lot easier than you were expecting though and was now torn from the collar to the bottom hem. You cleared your throat and tried to keep your eyes on the wound, but couldn’t help it when your eyes strayed to the exposed skin. You could distinctly see the outline of his sternum and ribs and you stifled a gasp as you pushed the shirt open more— no wonder he passed out, he looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. 

The sight of blood trailing down his chest snapped you out of your trance and you made quick work of using the damp washcloth to clean as much of the blood off as you could. When he wakes up, you’ll have him go to the bathroom so he can wash with soap and water, but for now you covered it with the largest bandaid you had, then sagged back into the couch with a heavy breath, just needing a second to calm down. 

After what felt like hours but was only about 15 minutes, he woke up with a groan. You grabbed the water bottle and took out three pills, having them ready for him. His eyes fluttered open, squinting at the bright light, and he scowled when he saw you next to him. 

“Take this.” You held it out to him and he looked down at his chest, then let his head fall back into the couch again as his eyes closed. “Please take it. It’ll help with the pain.”

“How did I get here?” He rasped, voice strained. 

“You passed out and I wanted you to fall here instead of the floor.” You wanted to reprimand him for not eating but you knew now wasn’t the time. It almost seemed like he wasn’t taking the painkillers out of spite, but after a moment, he huffed and held his hand out. You handed everything to him and he only drank enough water to take the pills. 

“You have to drink it. The whole reason you passed out is because of how malnourished you are.” You urged gently. 

“The whole reason I passed out is because you stabbed me.” 

“Jon, please just drink it.” You said, exacerbated. All he did was glare at you so you let out a disappointed sigh and stood up to go to the kitchen. He didn’t say anything as you started pulling things out and cooking. You weren’t exactly sure what the best option would be for malnutrition and blood loss, but you figured something with high protein and iron would be a good start. 

When you walked back over with a plate of grilled chicken breast and steamed spinach, he raised his brows as you held it out to him. You were pleased to see that while you were busy, he did drink some of the water. 

“What?” He asked, when you just waited for him to take it. 

“You need to eat. Clearly you don’t want to starve to death since you tried to stop me so just quit being so goddamn stubborn and eat the fucking food.” Your tone got significantly harsher by the end of the sentence and he almost seemed shocked. After a moment, he huffed, but took it from you anyway. You sat down next to him and tried to ignore how the smell of the chicken was roaring your stomach back to life. 

“After you finish eating, you should clean it with soap and water.” You said quietly. “I can help if you want.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“I haven’t used that knife in ages, it wasn’t exactly sterile. You need to clean it or it’ll get infected.” 

“I’ve had worse.” Now that you weren’t focused on the large gash, you could see a few scars on the exposed skin of his torso. 

“Fine.” You stood up and left to grab two clean washcloths, a bottle of soap, and a bowl that you filled with water. When you walked back over and set the items on the coffee table, he narrowed his eyes and scowled at you, watching you get down on your knees in front of him. You reached for the bandage and he circled your wrist in a bruising grip. So you moved your other hand forward and he did the same thing, but winced when the motion made his shoulder shift. “If you let me do this I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.” 

“We’re not going to fucking play nurse. I can do it myself.” He spat. 

“I believe you. But I don’t believe that you actually will.” You challenged, making him roll his eyes with a scoff. “The quickest way to get rid of me is to let me do this.” He clenched his jaw and looked away from you for a moment, then released your wrists, letting you continue with your original plan of removing the bandage. When you ripped it off, he hissed in pain and you glanced at him nervously. “Sorry.” You said sheepishly. 

You hesitantly pushed the shirt open a little more, worried it would make him snap, but he just glared at you, letting you do it. Once you had enough room, you dipped the washcloth in the water then squirted some soap on it and worked it into the fabric. Getting up on your knees a little more, you shuffled closer, ignoring the feeling of his leg against your side— or… trying to, at least.

“I'm sorry again.” You said quietly as you started cleaning it. “I really didn’t mean for that to happen.” When you looked up at him, he was still watching you carefully, his guard fully up. “I’ll see if I can get something stronger for the pain when I go back to work.” You let your focus move back down to the task at him, trying not to blush under the heat of his gaze. 

“That’s illegal, you know.” He murmured, sounding uncharacteristically… neutral. 

“So is breaking out a criminal.” You countered. You didn’t really like talking about him like that though. Sure, he’s technically a criminal, but anyone failed that many times was bound to walk away without their sanity completely intact.

“You think I deserve to be in there?” He asked after a moment of silence. You couldn’t decipher his tone and you looked up at him again, his eyes a little softer now. 

“I don’t think anyone deserves to be in that hell hole.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Your hand slowed to a stop, resting against his chest. 

“I think… given your history, it would’ve been a miracle if you grew up “normal.’” You said quietly. “I think you deserve to be in there for the things you’ve done, but not just to be imprisoned, to get help.” 

“If you’re going to survive there, you need to learn this sooner rather than later; the people in there have no remorse for what they’ve done, and neither do I.” He warned. 

“I can’t let myself believe that.” 

“Those people don’t want to be saved. I mean seriously, did you think our little talk sessions would change me? Make me a better man?” He cooed mockingly, making you frown. 

“I hoped they’d help you work through your trauma. After that? I wouldn’t need to do much else.” He scoffed at that, all but rolling his eyes. 

“You think I don’t know how to identify the root of what made me so fucked up?” His voice was back to the viciousness that you’ve started getting used to. 

“No, I think you do know how to identify it. I just think you don’t know how to overcome it.” You said calmly, trying not to agitate him any further. 

“I do not need to be lectured about trauma by someone who would’ve been my subordinate.” He snapped. 

“I’m not lecturing you, Jon. And don’t you think there’s maybe a reason why you’re getting so defensive right now?” He clenched his jaw and let out a heavy breath through his nose. 

“Fine. If you’re so interested in psychoanalysis, why don’t we talk about you then?” 

“That’s not what I’m doing,” 

“Your need for my praise and approval is almost pathetic.” He cut you off, making your mouth instantly close. “You’re so fucking desperate for it— Why do you think that is?” He tilted his head slightly and you swallowed the lump in your throat, barely able to look at him. “You break down at just the slightest amount of rejection. I mean for fucks sake- you literally tried to kill yourself because of it.” 

“Stop it, Jon.” You said quietly. 

“C’mon.. I’m sure you’ve heard of something that fits that description, even if it’s not an official disorder.” He said facetiously. “Personally, I think I’d just use the word “delusional.’” 

“That’s not what this is! I love you.” He raised his brows and gave you a knowing look, so you doubled down. “Being in love does not make me crazy.” 

“No, it doesn’t. But kidnapping someone and trying to kill yourself because you were rejected certainly does.” You paused and tried to control your expression so he didn’t know how much his words were affecting you. 

“I didn’t.. kidnap you. I got you out of there, like you wanted.” You said quietly. “And having you here is keeping you safe from being found and sent back to Arkham again.” He scoffed a disbelieving laugh and looked away from you. So you sighed and resumed cleaning the wound. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to help you sleep at night.” He muttered, making your frown deepen. You looked at him for another moment, then sighed and tried to finish cleaning quickly. 

Once you were done and another bandage was in place, you got up and headed toward your bedroom. You searched your closet for something he could wear, but the only thing you had that he’d be able to get into easily was a zip up hoodie. So you grabbed that and walked back out, which he clearly wasn’t pleased with since he probably thought you’d be gone longer. 

“Lean forward.” You said softly, sitting next to him to help put it on, making him scowl. 

“I can dress myself.” He spat and you sighed, but agreed, watching him struggle to get it on. Eventually, he succeeded and you leaned back on the couch when he continued eating, keeping your eyes down so you didn’t make him uncomfortable. “Are you planning on staying half nude?” Your entire face heated up when you realized you’ve yet to replace your shirt. You were just so anxious and upset that you didn’t even notice it. 

“N-no. Sorry.” Your voice cracked embarrassingly and you stood up to go grab a shirt from your room. He was on the last few bites of food when you walked back out. “Are you feeling any better?” 

“It fucking hurts.” He grumbled. You checked the time, seeing that it was already past seven. 

“I can try and go right now to get you something for the pain.” You suggested and he scoffed in response. 

“Do you want to lose your job?” That made you frown— you just wanted to help. “You stop by after hours for whatever reason and eventually they notice something’s missing and you think you won’t be made the primary suspect immediately?”  

“Okay, I get it.” You sighed. “I'm sorry. I was just trying to help.” You looked away from him as you thought of what else you could do. There aren’t any over the counter pain relievers that are any stronger than what you already gave him. “Wait,” You suddenly stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “I don’t know if you have a preference but either way it should help. It affects the central nervous system so the pain doesn’t seem as bad,”

“I know how it works, I’m not an idiot.” He snapped. “But you must be if you think I’ll willingly intoxicate myself around you.” Even though his words stung, you tried not to take it personally and just move on from the insult. 

“It’ll help, Jon.” 

“I don’t care.” You sighed, then walked back over and sat down again, keeping your eyes on your lap. You felt horrible. The only reason he’s in pain is because you were acting irrationally. 

“I know it won’t make it better, but I really am sorry.” You said quietly, chancing a glance at him. 

“I thought you promised to leave me alone if I let you play nurse.” He huffed. 

“Right. Okay, I’ll… I’ll go.” You cleared your throat and tried to hide your disappointment as you stood up. “If you want to shower, there are towels in the hall closet.” You offered. When he didn’t respond again, you sighed quietly and went to your room to leave him alone. 

You woke in the middle of the night and tried to go back to sleep since you had to be up for work in a few hours, but you couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that something happened while you were asleep. Like the wound was infected and he was dead. 

That thought was a little extreme, but it was enough to get you out of bed to go check on him. He was asleep, laying on his back, and you moved closer to slowly unzip the jacket enough to see it. He hadn’t bled through the bandaid and you gently lifted a corner to see inside. Everything looked fine. At least you thought it did… You’re not that kind of doctor. 

When you zipped it back up, you couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment. He looked so peaceful, not angry or full of hatred. You wished he’d look like that all the time. 

Once you were satisfied knowing he wasn’t dead, you managed to fall back asleep. When you got up again, you somehow woke up fully after the first alarm so you were about twenty minutes ahead of schedule. You walked into the kitchen, still in your pajamas, and saw that he was awake this time. 

“Do you want some coffee? Actually,” you knew he wouldn’t answer it like that, “how do you take your coffee?” He scoffed a laugh and you couldn’t help but blush even though he was clearly laughing at you, not with you. 

“Black.” Was all he said, but it made you smile so big that it almost hurt your cheeks. It felt like you were finally getting somewhere with him. Walking over with two mugs, you handed one to him, then sat down, much to his displeasure. “Don’t you have to get ready?” 

“I woke up early.” You shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. “You need to eat and quite frankly I don’t have many options here so I’m going to stop somewhere after work. What do you want?”

“I’m fine.” He muttered, drinking the coffee and keeping his eyes straight ahead instead of on you. 

“That’s not what I asked.” You said firmly— you had no clue where this boldness was coming from. He looked over at you with raised brows, almost… impressed.. by your audacity. “There must be something you’ve been craving since being in there. Tell me what it is and I’ll get it.” He huffed but seemed to understand that the quickest way to get rid of you is to just answer. 

“There’s a Southern place in Otisburg, right across the street from the Botanical Gardens. I don’t have a preference, I like everything they have.” You smiled, happy that you finally got a real answer out of him. Even though it’s out of your way, you’re excited that he actually shared something with you and agreed to eat. 

“Perfect. I can stop by the store too. Do you want anything specific for breakfast or lunch?” 

“Eggs.” He said simply, almost making you laugh. 

“Eggs it is. Anything else?” 

“What you have here is fine.” At least that means he looked and considered eating. 

“Do you like the coffee? Or should I get a different one.” He huffed, clearly getting annoyed with your questions. 

“It's coffee.” 

“Well, I like blonde roast. I don’t know if you prefer dark roast or something.” You said defensively. He didn’t answer so you assumed that meant he didn’t care what kind of coffee you had. You checked the time and decided you could sit here for five more minutes before you should start getting ready. You didn’t want to bother him so you just stared out the window, smiling at the way the morning sun was peeking through the buildings. If you ignored the very obvious contempt he has for you, this moment could’ve been perfect. 

“Does it still hurt?” You asked, turning to face him and blushing when you noticed his eyes were already on you. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he’d been caught though. 

“Not as much.” He finally looked away and took another drink. 

“Do you think you still need something stronger than what I have here?” 

“I’ll be fine.” His tone left no room for argument, but you could tell he wasn’t being truthful. 

“Okay…” You said, still unsure. “Can I just check it really quick? Then I’ll leave you alone and go get ready.” He let out an exasperated huff and rolled his eyes, annoyed by your concern. But once again, he seemed to understand that the fastest way to get rid of you was to just agree. 

“Fine.” He grumbled, leaning back on the couch. You set your mug on the coffee table and scooched closer to him, getting on your knees on the couch so you could fully face him. You slowly reached for the zipper as if approaching a wild animal that could attack at any moment. He didn’t say or do anything as you unzipped it and pushed it aside. You lifted half of the bandage and leaned closer to get a better look as your fingers delicately ran over the skin around it. 

“It looks like it’s scabbing.” You said absentmindedly. “So that’s good at least.” When you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed how close you’d gotten. You also noticed the way his eyes snapped up from your body to your face. You blushed, now hyper aware of the small, thin pajama set you were wearing. Clearing your throat, you quickly zipped up the hoodie again and leaned back. “It— Try to wash it today please.” He almost looked amused by your flustered state. “I… I should— I’m going to get ready now.” You quickly grabbed your mug and stood up, practically running to your room. 

Part 3

Again, sorry it’s cut a little awkwardly lol. This was written as a one shot.

Taglist (join here)

@cillianslvt @69your-best-night-mare69

[brnesblogposts]

sunday morning

pairing: steven grant x reader summary: you and your boyfriend Steven spend a lazy Sunday morning together.

reblogs appreciated if you liked it :))

—

The sun slowly breaks through the gaps in the curtains as you start to stir. Drifting in and out of a state of sleep as your body adjusts to the light seeping through. Looking over to your right your curly haired boyfriend looks peaceful as gentle snores escape his lips. Steven’s sleeping disorder didn’t allow for proper respite, but when he did get into a deep state of solace you left him be.

You watched him for a few minutes as his chest rose and fell, his curls awry, your love for him was stronger than any emotion you’ve ever known. Gently removing his arm from your waist he stirred and your breath got caught in your throat as you thought you’d accidentally woken the peaceful man up. To your relief he repositions himself into more of a star fish shape. Gently getting out of bed you head to the bathroom to shower before you were to decide what you would both be having for breakfast.

Stepping out of the shower you put one of Steven’ shirts on and a comfy pair of joggers. Today was Sunday and these days were for you and your boyfriend to spend quality time together. Coming out of the bathroom, to your dismay you see Steven at the stove preparing some of his famous vegan pancakes. You’d wished he’d slept a bit longer. Trying your best not to startle him you approach him from behind and carefully wrap your arms around his waist.

“Morning” you say softly, taking in his warmth.

“Morning, love” he replies as his hands meet where yours lay on his stomach.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask as he flips a pancake over.

“Yeah, pretty good actually, one of the better nights for me” he says with a smile. Oh his smile, you adored how his lips curled up and his eyes lit up.

You press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m glad you slept well, you deserve to be able to rest peacefully.” you say as a tint of red creeps up his face. He pulls you into a hug, cutting it short..

“Oh bollocks this pancake is a bit burn’t.” he frowns a bit, but you quickly reassure him

“That’s okay I did distract you a bit. Don’t think we’ll miss one pancake, you make enough to feed a family!” he giggles at that.

“Always need to make sure I offer Gus some don’t I?” he turns to Gus swimming around in his tank.

“Speaking of, morning my little one finned wonder” he smiles. Oh he was the most adorable man in the world. You leave him to make the pancakes with no more distractions and set the table, syrup, chopped banana, vegan butter.. you weren’t a vegan before you met Steven, but at this point it was second nature.

You ate in silence, Steven’s pancakes piled with banana and a bit of syrup, he didn’t like too much or they’d go soggy.

“How are Marc and Jake?” you ask, you and his alters got a long well, Marc more so as Jake was the quiet type.

“No, yeah, they’re good, yeah. Marc bets he could make better pancakes than me, but I say that’s nonsense. Jake just nodded in approval to say he’s good, you know him.. not much of a conversationalist” he let out a little laugh at that. Once you’d both finished eating you cleared up while he showered and got dressed into a white t-shirt and fresh pajama bottoms.

“Darling” he calls out.

“Yeah?” you respond from your place at the sink.

“Want to watch a movie?” he asks shyly, you’ve been together a few months and knew everything about him and his alters, Konshu and everything. yet he was still shy around you. It was cute.

“Yeah i’d love to! anything in mind?” He paused for a second, tapping his index finger on his chin while deep in thought.

“AVATAR!” he bursts out excitedly. You hadn’t actually seen avatar before you met Steven, as soon as he found out he was quick to invite you over for a movie date.

“Sounds great! Love that film.” you emphasised, Steven tended to worry that you agreed to do things with him out of pity, he was very insecure about himself despite you, Marc and Jake reassuring him that he was an amazing man. It didn’t matter what you were watching, reading or doing, if Steven was with you and enjoying himself that’s all that mattered. You loved every minute with him.

He flicked on avatar as you finished the dishes and headed to the couch, where he patted the spot next to him. You cuddled into his side as he layed a blanket over the both of you, he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head.

“Thank you.” he says out of the blue, which causes you to look up at him.

“For what love?” you asked softly as not to make him feel bad or anything.

“For loving me, accepting me for everything that I am. The mess that I am. Staying up with me and reading to and with me, you know people at work are rude to me, Donna’s a right knobhead towards me. I used to let her get to me, everytime she mocked me or put me on inventory, but now? with you. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me.. because I have the most amazing person who loves everything about me and that’s all that matters. I love you so much y/n.” he says with a softness in his features, you don’t say anything, you take him into the tightest hug which silently tells him what he already knows deep down. He strokes his hand through your hair as you embrace him.

“I love you, Steven.” you say as you sit back from the hug and look at him, taking his face into your hands. “Listening to you ramble about Egypt and Pharaoh’s, your work days and anything else. I could listen to you talk about anything for hours. You’re the funniest person i’ve ever met, the kindest, sweetest man who makes me feel like the only person in the world everyday. Donna doesn’t deserve you, the museum doesn’t deserve you. You’d be the BEST tour guide if they just let you. The way your face lights up when you talk about Egyptology, I can see the love for the topic in your eyes. There’s no one else more suited for the job than you.

Tears are welling up in his eyes and you wipe them away with your thumbs, landing a soft kiss on his nose. He really was the most intelligent man you’d ever met, intuitive and with a heart of gold. Steven would never hurt a fly, Marc and Jake are more of the fighter types, but Steven. He’s a lover, he wants to make people happy and to see them smile, that’s his gift. He saved your life that’s for sure, you’re the happiest you’ve ever been since meeting him.

Settling back into his chest you take his hand in yours and rub your thumb over his palm.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me” he says and with that he presses play. You squeeze his hand to silently tell him that you feel the same.

About halfway into the movie you felt his body relax, he was falling asleep. Good, you thought. He needs as much sleep as possible, you didn’t move, knowing if you did you’d disturb him, you watched the rest of the movie as he snored quietly from beneath you. Once the movie finished you switched the tv off, Steven started to wake up, causing you to sit up. He took your hand and took you to the bed, laying down he pulled you in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist, an afternoon nap wasn’t a bad idea, it was Monday tomorrow, the beginning of another long tiring week, especially for Steven. you settled into him as his form engulfed you.

“You feel like home” is the last thing you hear before he drifts off, feeling safe enough to fall asleep knowing you’re right there with him. He hasn’t put his ankle restrains on this time, but he knows you’d notice if he got up. His words touch your heart, you’ve never been so in love.

“You are home” you respond, squeezing his arm that’s securely wrapped around you. With that, you both fall asleep. Feeling the safest you’ve ever felt, knowing you’ve found your other half in Steven.