#like damn .. I’m just glad they’re alive you know

[mommyhorror]

😞thinking about Elliot page & Amanda bynes & Britney Spears & Shelley duvall & Jennette McCurdy

[dumbseee]

life saver.

f1 au: in which, you’re a famous singer and you just got out of a very toxic relationship, so when fans starts noticing how close you’ve gotten to a certain formula one driver, they get protective.

carlos sainz jr x singer!reader.

fc: madison beer.

liked by selenagomez, carlossainz55, bellahadid and 3 689 008 others.

y/n: today was my first concert since my hiatus, you guys were amazing and i couldn’t thank you enough for your support! i love you guys so much <3

_

bellahadid: you’re so strong baby!

fan1: we missed you so much!

fan2: omgggg please come to asia!

fan3: she’s the only artist i’ll sell my kidney for

fan4: her new album is devastating, i’m so glad she’s finally happy

fan5: a year without you was too much!

fan6: she looks like a princess and a fairy at the same time it’s amazing

fan7: wtf is carlos doing here?

fan8: @.fan7 he just started following her, that’s weird

fan9: @.fan8 let the boy be a fanboy omg

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 689 008 others.

carlossainz55: my thoughts will echo your name, until i see you again.

_

fan1: THE?? Y/N?? LYRICS??

fan2: am i dreaming or carlos used enchanted’s lyrics??

landonorris: looking good mate!

fan3: he looks so good wtf

fan4: i’d kill to be that damn dog

fan5: WHY IS EVERYONE IGNORING THE THIRD SLIDE?? WHO IS THAT??

fan6: @.fan5 that looks like his sister tbh

fan7: @.fan5 that must be isa, apparently they’re still seeing each other

fan8: spill the tea carlos, you’re too old to be soft lauching

liked by gigihadid, vittoria, taylorswift and 2 008 689 others.

y/n: no need to ask, he’s a smooth operator.

_

fan1: nah man they HAVE to be dating

fan2: @.landonorris you know something, so spill IT

landonorris: @.fan2 carlos will kill me, are you nuts?

fan3: BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

fan4: @.landonorris you just ruined their whole soft launch thing BSIDODOLD

fan5: @.landonorris run boy because if carlos catch you, you’re done for

carlossainz55: i’ll shave your head in your sleep, lando norris.

landonorris: @.carlossainz55 I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING???

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, charlottesiine and 3 789 788 others.

y/n: more pictures of our little trip to capri :) (don’t worry everyone, lando is still alive)

_

carlossainz55: well, now we don’t have to hide anymore, i love you mi cielo.

liked by y/n.

landonorris: i BARELY made it, carlos threatened to run me over if he saw me in the streets of monaco!

fan1: BSKDODOOD

fan2: *let’s all pretend we didn’t know already*

fan3: please take care of her, carlos.

carlossainz55: @.fan3 trust me, i will.

fan4: carlos is literally the only man I’ll trust around y/n

charles_leclerc: congrats lovers!

liked by y/n.

fan5: can’t wait for her paddock outfits!!

[creatorofarcadia]

I’m aware that I’m definitely Jon Sims biased when I listen to TMA, he’s my favourite, so naturally it’s much easier for me to empathise with him. But every time I re-listen (I’ve lost count now but I think I’ve done 6?), I always legitimately try to let go of my bias and really consider the perspective of characters I instinctively disagree with. Something I’ve noticed is that, the one moment that always gets me, that I can never look past or empathise with, is Basira and Georgie’s response to Jon waking up in MAG 122.

It’s funny because I don’t think it is supposed to be some character defining moment for either of them and (maybe I’ve just missed it because I’m not super fandom active) I’ve never really heard anybody else talk about this. But the way they respond to him has always REALLY rubbed me wrong. Because I get it, they’re concerned about how much ‘Jon’ is really left inside the person sat in bed, but Jesus fuck. This guy wakes up after, as far as you know at the time, sacrificing himself to successfully save billions of people and the first thing you say is ‘no it’s not good you woke up actually’ - like damn he’s been conscious for 10 SECONDS could this not wait until later? Could you first idk, thank him? Say your glad to see your friend is still alive and save the ‘are you human?’ conversation for after he’s had a cuppa maybe?

The first thing you say to someone who’s woken up from a coma being ‘it’s not good you woke up’ just seems needlessly fucking cruel, regardless of how I attempt to spin it in my mind. And unless you’re literally talking to Satan the correct response to “Disappointed to see me alive?” is unequivocally NO not “We can deal with it later”. 

Overall, there’s a difference between caution and callousness, and while I understand the desire to be cautious with Jon as how much of his humanity remains is unclear, this moment always tipped into callousness for me in a way I struggle to empathise with even when I really try. 

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts IV

A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.

Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.

With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.

The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.

“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”

I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.

“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.

“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”

“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“

“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”

“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”

“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”

“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”

“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”

The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.

“Thanks,” I say through tears.

And the girls hold me to their promise.

After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.

We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.

Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.

As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.

The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.

We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.

“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.

Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”

I shake my head no.

“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.

I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.

We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.

The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.

“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.

“Hey!” I shout back.

“Que pasa?”

“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.

He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.

The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.

He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”

“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”

“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.

I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.

He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.

I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.

When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.

When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.

I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.

It ends in a split second.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.

“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.

“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.

Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.

“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.

“Y/n what are you doing out there?”

“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”

He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.

Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”

“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”

“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”

“Whatever I’m over this convo.”

I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.

“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”

“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”

“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”

“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” He insists.

“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”

“It’s for your own good!”

He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.

Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.

“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.

With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.

But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”

I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.

I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.

Hypocrite.

I drop my hand.

“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”

I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.

I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.

I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.

“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”

My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.

I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.

“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”

“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”

“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”

It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.

“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”

“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“

“It’s night.”

“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”

“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”

I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.

I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.

I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.

I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.

On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.

Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.

“Hi I need a room.” I say.

“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”

I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.

“Just a night. I need your best room please.”

“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”

“The best room will do. Preferably large.”

“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”

I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.

“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”

“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.

“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”

I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.

“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.

“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”

They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.

The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.

The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.

I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.

“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”

“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”

We stare at each other for a tense moment.

“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”

After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.

He chooses to ignore me.

“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“

His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.

I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.

“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.

I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.

“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.

“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”

“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”

“Do you always have to be so snarky?”

Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.

“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”

“It’s really quite unbecoming.”

“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”

“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.

“I never let anything go?” I repeat.

“Yeah! Ever!”

“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.

“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”

“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”

“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”

“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”

With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.

“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.

“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”

“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”

“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”

“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”

“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“

“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.

“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”

“What did I say?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.

“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”

“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“

“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”

“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”

“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”

“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”

“Then quit!”

“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.

“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”

“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”

“Whatever y/n.”

“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”

“What? I told you I was looking out-“

“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”

I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.

“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”

Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.

“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”

“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”

“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”

His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.

“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!

When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.

But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.

He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.

My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.

Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.

“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.

In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.

Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.

"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.

"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.

He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.

He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.

I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”

“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”

His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.

“D’you really hate me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.

He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.

“Do you hate me?” He asks again.

“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.

“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.

The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.

Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.

“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.

“Okay?” He asks low.

I nod, grateful that he was taking over.

And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.

After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.

His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.

And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.

His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.

“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.

I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.

I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.

I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.

My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.

I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.

The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.

I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.

***

We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.

I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.

London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.

I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.

These thoughts kept me preoccupied.

It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.

It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.

I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.

When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.

Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.

I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.

“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.

“So,” I echo.

We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.

“We should sit?”

“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”

I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”

“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”

“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”

Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.

Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.

“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”

He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”

I nod. Not sure what to say to that.

“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.

“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”

“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”

“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”

I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.

I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.

On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.

Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.

I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.

I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.

“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”

The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.

“What is that?”

“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.

His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.

“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.

I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”

His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.

“Is this a joke?”

“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”

“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.

“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”

By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.

“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”

“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.

He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.

I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,

“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”

He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.

He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.

When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”

Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.

“Uh y/n please come i-“

“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.

For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.

I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.

Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.

When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.

“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.

“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”

“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”

“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“

“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.

“We dealt with that article.”

Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.

“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”

“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”

Shit. “Um. Burnout?”

The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.

“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”

He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?

“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”

He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.

When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.

“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Is it because of that night?”

It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

Wait, he wanted an answer.

“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.

He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.

***

Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”

Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”

“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”

This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”

“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.

“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.

“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”

I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”

We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.

I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.

We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.

He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.

And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.

Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.

At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.

The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.

“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”

Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.

Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.

“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.

“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”

We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.

We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.

I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.

***

Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.

Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.

The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.

I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.

We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.

I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.

On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.

I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.

“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”

“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”

Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”

He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.

Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.

“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.

“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.

I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.

My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.

I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.

I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.

I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.

The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.

••••••••••••••••••••

Present (2 years on):

My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.

Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.

Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.

“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.

“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”

I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”

“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.

“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”

“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.

“Of course I do.”

“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”

I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.

“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.

“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“

“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”

Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.

“What are you doing here? At The Violinist?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”

He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.

Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.

“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”

“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“

“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“

“You seemed to have.”

His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.

“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”

The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.

I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.

I’d rather van gogh my ear.

I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.

“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.

“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.

He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.

“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.

“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”

“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.

“Never ends well,” I eye the door.

“Just as stubborn as I remember.”

“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.

He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”

I shake my head. He should know that by now.

“Can I walk you out at least?”

I shrug, couldn’t hurt.

“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.

“What?”

“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”

“I thought we could be friendly exes.”

And when did he get so cheeky.

“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”

“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”

“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”

“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”

“Nooo. You’re being weird.”

"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."

I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.

Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.

“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.

“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.

“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”

“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.

“How do you like that?”

“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.

But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.

“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”

My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.

And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.

We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.

“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.

“I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”

He huffs an awkward laugh.

“Anyway this is me—

“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.

We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.

“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”

“A few weeks,” I reply.

He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?

“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.

His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?

“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.

“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”

“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“

“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”

Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.

“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”

This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.

“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.

“Right.” I choke out.

He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”

I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”

Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”

I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.

“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.

On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.

Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.

***

Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.

Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.

When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.

I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.

I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.

“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.

“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”

We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.

“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”

“No,” I laugh.

“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.

“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”

“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”

“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”

“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”

“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.

“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”

“Yes!”

“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.

“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”

“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.

“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”

“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“

“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.

“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.

“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“

“Y/N?”

Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.

She didn’t tell him.

“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.

“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”

It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.

It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.

What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.

These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.

“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.

Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.

“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”

She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.

“I am really sorry,” she whispers.

“Hey it’s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”

“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”

I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.

I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.

“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”

“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”

“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”

“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.

With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.

“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“

We stop and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I shake my head.

“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”

“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”

I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”

“Fair. How’s America?”

“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”

“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.

He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.

“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”

“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.

“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”

We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.

It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.

“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”

“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.

“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”

Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.

“Who?”

That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.

“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”

“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.

But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.

“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.

“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”

They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.

“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.

“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.

“No it’s ok!”

“I don’t know why she acted like that-“

“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“

“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”

It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.

Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.

I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.

So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.

“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”

Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”

“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”

“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”

“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”

Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.

I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.

Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.

I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.

I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.

I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.

My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.

I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.

He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??

I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.

Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?

Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.

I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.

Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.

I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.

***

I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.

“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.

“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.

We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.

“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”

Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.

“Josefina Duran,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”

We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”

Famous last words.

It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.

I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.

“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.

I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.

Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.

By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.

As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.

“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“

“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”

Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.

“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”

She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.

And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.

We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.

She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”

“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”

“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”

“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”

“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”

“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.

“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.

I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.

As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.

“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”

“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”

What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.

“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”

“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”

“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”

“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.

“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”

I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.

“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”

“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.

But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”

I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.

“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”

I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.

“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.

My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.

“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”

“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.

I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.

I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.

Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.

Now it was just a hand.

I clasp it and he squeezes.

“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.

I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.

Too much was happening at once.

My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.

I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?

His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night

I smile, despite myself.

Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.

H: For drinks?

Y: For drinks

H: Ofc.

***

The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.

For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.

I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.

I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.

“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.

“I did.”

I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.

He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.

His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.

The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.

I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.

My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.

But I am so tired.

I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.

“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.

I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.

"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.

I shake my head.

He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."

"I think I-“

“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”

I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.

He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.

“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.

“Then where?” He plays along.

“Anywhere but there.”

He kisses my nose. “There?”

“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”

He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”

But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.

With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.

“What?” I ask.

“We should take that drink first.”

I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.

“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.

He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”

“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”

“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.

“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”

“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“

“Just let me talk then.”

“Why does everyone want to talk!”

“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“

“You already did-“

“Properly.”

I cross my arms and sigh.

“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”

“So this isn’t a great thing then.”

“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.

“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.

“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”

“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?

But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.

“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.

“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.

“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”

He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”

“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”

“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”

“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”

I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?

My heart flutters amongst other things.

I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.

“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“

“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”

“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”

I nod along to his story.

“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”

“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”

“You’re judging me.”

“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.

“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”

He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”

“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.

“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”

He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”

“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.

“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”

“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”

“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had to be the villain in your story-“

“What?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”

I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.

“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”

“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.

“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“

“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“

“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”

I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.

Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.

My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”

“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“

“You don’t like my sensitivity.”

“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“

“Because of you.”

“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”

“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“

“It was really a lot of reasons.”

“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”

His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.

“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”

I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.

“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.

“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”

We smile.

“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”

His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.

I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.

“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”

“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”

“Same.”

His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.

His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.

We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”

Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.

But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.

“I want to do this.”

With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.

He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.

The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.

But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.

He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.

I nod.

He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.

It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.

He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.

He moves up to press his forehead against mine.

"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.

“What do you mean?”

“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“

“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.

"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”

“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”

He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.

I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.

"May I?" he looks up.

"Please," I whisper.

For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.

“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.

“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.

Love. I brush the word away.

He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.

I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.

Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.

Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.

I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.

On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?

I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.

But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.

Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.

And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.

These people made me so angry.

How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.

I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.

Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.

How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.

Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.

I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.

Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.

I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.

Damn.

What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.

What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?

“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.

“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.

“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.

“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”

“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.

A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.

Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.

“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.

He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.

Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.

“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.

“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.

“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”

“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.

“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”

“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“

“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.

“But-“ he says behind my hand.

“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.

“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”

“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”

“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?

***

It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.

But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.

We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.

But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.

Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.

Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.

We still get under each other’s skin.

The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.

I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.

“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.

“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”

“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”

“Coincidence.”

“Liar.”

“I’m an honest man.”

“Truth please?”

“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”

“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”

“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”

“Really? How?”

“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”

He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.

“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”

“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”

“That’s a strong word.” He argues.

“You. Stalked. Me.”

“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.

“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.

“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.

“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”

“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”

“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”

His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.

“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”

It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”

When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.

We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.

“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”

He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”

I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”

“Whatever,” I say with a smile.

“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”

We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.

“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”

“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”

“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”

He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.

“What?”

“Really? You think it was the artcles?”

“Well what else happened that-“

Oh god. Was I that stupid?

Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.

A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”

“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”

I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?

“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.

“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”

His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.

“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”

His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”

“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“

“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“

“Well you were-“

“Yeah alright-“

“Why did you really pull me away though?”

“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”

“What?”

I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”

My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.

“I was just your assistant though.”

“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”

I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.

Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”

“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”

Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”

I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”

“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”

I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.

Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.

I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.

I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”

“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.

There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.

“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.

“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”

“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”

“I have a good feeling about it.”

“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.

“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”

“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”

“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”

I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.

“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”

He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.

“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.

He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.

***

I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.

I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.

I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.

So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.

I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.

I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77 @harryspirate

🤍

Epilogue

[rubberfuckey]

summary: After a worried phone call from Wheezie, you decide to come back to Kildare.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: This is set right after season three, let's pretend the time skip in the show doesn't exist (: This is my first post since 2020! Let me know what y'all think <3333 part two??? ;)

Eyes snapping open and with a rush of panic, you try to locate your piercingly loud phone tangled in the sheets somewhere next to you. Who the fuck would be calling me at whatever ungodly hour it is? Finally finding it, you damn near blind yourself with how bright it is and how unadjusted your eyes are. Squinting, too tired and agitated to read it, you swipe to answer the call like muscle memory. 

“Hello?” you huff.

“I’m sorry I know it’s late… but I have a favor to ask.”

“Wheeze? What’s going on? Are you okay?” Hearing her voice sits you straight up in your bed, she has never called this late or has ever asked of anything from you.

“I’m okay, kind of. I’m alive. It’s not me I’m worried about.”

“Wheezie-”

“I know,” she cuts you off, “nevermind it was stupid anyways.”

“No, Wheezie, talk to me.”

“It’s just, Rafe,” you flinch at hearing his name, “I’m scared. I’ve never seen him like this before. We know he’s already a pretty angry guy, but this is something different.”

You sit there quietly listening. You left Kildare a year ago, after a nasty breakup with Rafe and trying to break apart the unhealthy codependency you both developed. You transferred to a different state college but you always stayed in touch with Wheezie. Before you and Rafe went wrong, you were close with both his sisters and promised to stay in contact with the young girl you watched grow throughout your time with Rafe. No one knew of course, you and Rafe were completely no contact- opting to block his number after one too many heartwrenching voicemails while obviously under the influence of his favorite white powder. 

Sarah hadn’t tried to reach out, but from what Wheeze had mentioned she got herself distracted with a pogue-turned cop killer-who was proved innocent. What a shit show. You knew it all, countless Facetime calls caught you up to speed. You consoled her through the “death” of Sarah, the “death” of her father and what other trauma presented itself. Sometimes it was too much being constantly reminded of your ex, whom you still loved very deeply, but being there for this poor girl trumped how it made you feel. The feeling went both ways, she stopped you from coming back to the island quite a few times when she told you just how bad things have gotten, insisting that she would be okay, when in reality she really just needed a hug from her honorary sister. He was never brought up, you didn’t ask, she didn’t tell. Something in your gut told you it’s just better if you don’t know what had been going on with him. You appreciated her respecting that boundary. 

“The club is hosting some kind of party in Ward’s honor tomorrow. It’s weird, he was supposed to be dead months ago and the island is just now doing something in memory of him. Probably Rose organized it or something, who knows. Anyways,” she stopped and took in a deep breath, “Rose wants us all to be there and speak about him in front of everyone. I went to ask Rafe what he planned on saying to hopefully find some inspiration but he just went on and on about how ‘the pogues killed him on purpose’ and how ‘they have another thing coming to them if they think they’re just going to get away with it’. I’ve seen him mad before, I’ve watched him punch holes through the walls, scream, yell, and cry. But this…” she trails off, inhaling deeply after her fast paced rant. 

You sigh, not knowing what to say, “Give me some time to get a bag packed and get on the road, and I’ll be there.”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t bother you with his dramatics if I didn’t think it was important.”

“Hey, don’t apologize, I’m glad you told me. I’ll be there soon, just keep working on what you want to say. I’ll help you brainstorm tomorrow while I’m driving if you need me to.”

“Thanks, Y/N. You’re seriously the best.”

“Keep your head up Wheeze, get some rest and maybe steer clear of your brother for a little bit.”

After hanging up, you sigh and stare up at your ceiling. Shit.

-

The drive back to the OBX gave you time to think, what would you actually be walking back into? Was his grief manifesting itself into the kind of anger and violence that could be fatal to anyone he saw at fault? You shuddered at the thought. Pulling in to your parent’s driveway, you sent a text to Wheezie telling her you just got in and you’ll meet her at the country club. You could name about a thousand and one places you would rather be than under the same roof as Rafe Cameron for the first time in over a year, but you wanted to pay your respects and be there to support the people that had turned into your bonus family during your 2 year relationship with Rafe. 

“You ready honey?” your mom asks as you slip on your shoes to match the black dress you had chose. 

“As I’ll ever be.” 

The car ride was quiet, your anxiety was palpable as you bit your nails down and bounced your leg uncontrollably. Walking in the familiar doors, all you saw was the looks on people’s faces as they realized you were back on the island and here no less. Pretty much everyone knew who you were, your family’s status not much different from the Cameron’s themselves. You were known as the sweet girl from the affluent family who smiled politely at everyone who looked in your direction and would never hurt a fly. Rafe’s reputation was quite the opposite. When you and Rafe had made your first entrance together at Midsummers at the age of 17, it was the talk of the island. Ignoring the stares and whispers, you held your head high and looked for Wheezie.

Standing next to a huge photo of Ward leant against an easel stood Rafe, watered down whiskey in hand as he blankly looked around at the people in the room. If one more person awkwardly gave him a tight lipped look of sympathy, he was going to lose it. He heard people murmuring and the looks in his direction seemed to increase. Shaking off the feeling like everyone knew something he didn’t, he downed his drink and made his way over to get another. Sofia caught him before he reached the bar and assumed her position under his arm. 

“Maybe slow down on the whiskey?” She meant well, but damn did he need another drink. Looking at her blankly, he kept moving towards the bartender. His father was dead, who gives a fuck how much alcohol his grieving son intakes. Kelce walks into the room from the hallway, looking around frantically, catching sight of Rafe as  he beelines toward him, out of breath. 

“Yo, Rafe, Y/N is here.” 

Rafe nearly chokes on his drink as he looks at Kelce with an unreadable expression, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Y/N, I just saw her walking in with my own two eyes bro.” 

He sets his glass back down and suddenly Sofia was right all along, he needs to slow down on the whiskey if you were really here. He thinks back to the last time he saw you, all the screaming and crying and pleading with you not to leave. Even with the past year's events, he puts losing you at the top of the list of the most painful things he’s ever been through. He understands why you left and couldn’t blame you, but damn did he miss you like you were the air he needed to breathe. You walked in, obviously looking for something or someone as he watched your eyes scan the room until they caught his. He immediately felt nauseous. I’m going to puke, you thought.

part two

[tgmsunmontue]

I'd know you anywhere - 3/5

Set when Hangman first meets Rooster. Bradley and Bradford Bradshaw are twins. Most people know this. Some people need to be brought up to speed. Quickly.

Explicit out the gate. Also an everyone is alive AU because I need the softness when I’ve got two other fics on the go with DADT and canon deaths.

ONE TWO

PART THREE

                Jake gets used to it, the purely professional interactions he has with Bradshaw. Theres none of the playful banter he remembers from their first meeting, or the flirty looks. Bradshaw’s eyes just pass over him like nothing ever happened and he hates it. Hates that Bradshaw is also a damned find aviator, matching Jake up in the air and whooping with joy. He compliments Jake on his flying and Jake just smiles tightly and nods, can’t bring himself to say anything, worried he might start spitting poison. They have to work together. He can be professional even if it’s killing a little part of him inside.

                Everyone calls him Roo, even though his helmet has Kangaroo on it. Someone calls him BradBrad and gets an eyeroll in response, a punch to the arm. Jake calls him Bradshaw and gets Seresin in response with a range of polite to friendly but nothing else. Ever. Jake lets the annoyance and bitterness fester a little, but Bradshaw is just so friendly, and well liked and he still finds himself liking him and wishing things were different.

…            …            …

                Bradford laughs and rolls his eyes at the anecdote Lee is telling him. They don’t usually talk much, just send memes back and forth and argue through their phones, save their bitching and moaning for when they’re in person, which is going to be soon. He’s close to being finished with his current deployment, spirits are high with only days until they make landfall and everyone is making plans for their leave. He’s in the rec room finalizing his and Lee’s plans to surprise their parents for their thirtieth wedding anniversary. Something Ice and Mav have been helping them plan for nearly a year, and he knows Ice has pulled strings to ensure that both he and Lee are on leave and returning to their home port for ease of logistics.

                A small group of other aviators enter the rec-room and he sits up from where he’s been lying on of the sofa, doesn’t want to seem like he’s hogging all the space, or that they’re unwelcome. He’s not on the phone with anyone he needs privacy for.

                “Just chatting with my little brother.”

                “Fuck off!” Lee says through the phone and Ford laughs again, spots the wince on Seresin’s face and holds back his own annoyance. He’s given up trying to figure him out or make friends. Some people just aren’t interested.

                “You may be older but I’m definitely bigger.”

                “Yeah, a bigger jerk.”

                “Whatever. I’ll see you next week.”

 …           …            …

                He relaxes into the comfort of their shared apartment, glad to be back in a familiar space. Hugs Lee, glad to see him. They have dangerous jobs and neither of them take for granted the event of coming home safe. They order takeout, settle on the sofa with a couple of beers. When they were younger they always had to have dinner with their parents their first night back, but now their mom has seemed to accept they’ll both be in far better moods if they’re allowed to catch up with each other first if and when the rare occurrence of them both coming off deployment happens at the same time. He’s recounting something, a training exercise, using the little model planes they’ve had since they were kids when he mentions who he was flying with.

                “Wait. You were deployed with Jake?”

                “Uh. Hangman? Yeah. Him and hundreds of others. That guy does not like me…”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Uh. He doesn’t like me? I never asked him why, just… He was fine. Professional. He didn’t mention knowing you.”

                “Oh my god…”

                “What?”

                “I… I had sex with him.”

                Bradford stares at him, processing the words.

                “You slept with Hangman?”

                “Yeah.”

                “Wait. You slept with a guy without doing the whole dinner and dates first?”

                “Fuck off Ford…”

                “Oookay… what the fuck?” Ford asks, because Lee and him banter and take the shit out of each other plenty, but this is hurt Lee, angry Lee, the one that lashes out with his barbed tongue and then has to apologize and grovel later. Ford is generally far more even-keeled and calm, but he’s usually the one that enjoys the no-strings attached sex.

                “He ghosted me.”

                “He ghosted you? When did all this go down?”

                “Right before you left,” Lee mutters. Bradford feels a sinking sensation in his stomach. Oh shit… “He just… blanked me. Didn’t answer my messages and then blocked my number.”

                “Hahaha…” Ford laughs nervously. “Uh. Did you tell him you had a brother? A twin?”

                “I know you think you’re the center of the universe, but no, I don’t make a habit of talking about you to the guys I sleep with.”

                Bradford pulls a face, because yeah, he gets that. However Lee doesn’t make a habit of sleeping with guys he’s just met, so most of them hear about him during dinner conversations. At least… this has never happened before. Not this. Fuck. He needs to come clean.

                “So… I think I may have fucked this up for you.”

                “What?”

                “Uh. Well. Firstly, not on purpose or anything. I had no idea. Seresin approached me the morning we had breakfast with Mav and Ice…”

                “You mean that morning you went to the gym without me?”

                “Yeah. Because you got home at ass o’clock, out most of the night getting your dick sucked apparently!”

                Lee is glaring at him but Bradford just shrugs and makes a what are you going to do gesture, because he knows he has tone. Asshole. But he’s still his brother. He’ll make this right.

                “What did you say to him?”

                “Nothing. And I think that might actually be the issue. If he thought you were going to do your whole romance thing –”

                “I was!”

                “Yeah, of course you were. But I had no fucking clue who he was so I just… said something about flying with him –”

                “Oh my god, you didn’t…”

                “Well I didn’t know you’d slept with him!”

                “Shit.”

                “I’ll make this right. Trust me.”

                “Wait. What are you going to do?”

                “Tell him we’re twins obviously. It’s not rocket science Lee.”

                “Tell him? How?”

                “Are you serious right now? With words. I’ll talk to him.”

                “I can talk to him! Explain!”

                “No. You’ll either get angry over something stupid, or make him angry. Let me find out where he’s staying.”

                Lee hovers the whole time, but Ford’s in touch with most of the squadron and finds out where Seresin is staying, base accommodation because this clearly isn’t home for him. That’s okay, it’s close enough. He gathers up his jacket and keys, is pulling his shoes on when Lee suddenly realizes he’s going somewhere.

                “Where are you going?”

                “We went over this. I’m going to talk to him. I’ve got his number but he already blocked you so I don’t think that’ll work…”

                “He hasn’t blocked you though.”

                “Lee. He thinks I am you. He’s going to think you changed your number so you could call him after… not acknowledging that you slept together for four fucking months. Oh my god… I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

                “I’m coming with you.”

                “Yeah. Fine. Whatever. But you’re staying in the car until I’ve talked to him.”

                “Why can’t we just both go to the door?”

                “Ambush him? Yeah. Cause that’s a great approach.”

                Lee is scrambling for his own shoes, pulling on one of their dad’s old Hawaiian shirts rather than a jacket and Ford just shakes his head. No accounting for taste.

…            …            …

                It’s after nine o’clock so the knock on his door is surprising. It’s obviously someone with security clearance, but he isn’t expecting anyone. Is already dressed for bed, so tempted to simply not answer, but then the knocking happens again and he huffs out a breath, moves to the door to open it and blinks in surprise.

                “Bradshaw. What… are you doing here?”

                “Hey. Seresin.”

                The guy looks a little spooked and Jake crosses his arms over his chest. They aren’t friends, aren’t anything, and he sure as hell isn’t a booty call, no matter how good the sex was. He’s effectively been ignored the last four months, and he’s not going to simply forget that.

                “I need to talk to you about something. You got a moment?”

                “No. It’s late,” Jake says, and he starts closing the door but Bradshaw sticks his foot out like the dickhead he is and Jake would kick him but he’s in bare feet.

                “Yeah. Sorry about that. But look, I really think you’re going to want to hear what I have to say,” Bradshaw starts, and Jake is still scowling and trying to push the door shut. Bradshaw is just as strong though, leaning his body against it almost calmly. Fucker. “I have a brother. A twin brother. Identical.”

                Jake pauses briefly, it’s a novel excuse but he’s certain that’s all it is, because why would he be here alone if he actually had a twin brother. He must look angry, because Bradshaw is leaning back, like he’s worried Jake might punch him.

                “Fuck off. Stop making excuses and just leave me the fuck alone.”

                “Oh. Okay. You don’t believe me. Wait… I can prove it. Let me show you some photos.”

                That makes Jake pause again and Bradshaw goes for his phone, quickly unlocking it and opening the album, and then he’s passing it to him.

                “That’s from tonight. We had to send a selfie to our parents.”

                Holy shit.

                “Holy shit…”

                They are identical. He zooms in, and there are some little differences but they could totally pass as each other if they were apart, or in uniform, or someone didn’t know there were two of them walking around. He looks up at the second Bradshaw in front of him and now that he knows he’s pretty sure he’s going to be able to tell them apart easily. If he gets to see Bradley again. Shit. He blocked him.

                “So, you’re not Bradley. What’s your name then?”

                “Bradford.”

                Jake can’t help but pull a face, getting a flashback to when Bradley had told him his name.

                “Your parents called you Bradley and Bradford Bradshaw?”

                “I know. We both know. Trust me.”

                “Where’s Bradley?”

                “Hopefully in the car where I left him…”

FOUR

[c-rose2081]

AGDUSHFUEBDHDHD YOUR RECENT FIC WAS SO FUCKING GOOD LIKE AGHHHHHH

Bridget being such a sweet and caring liek cutie pie. Thinking Chloe might have a fear of blood or something is so adorable. And honestly now I’m just chucking every available fear or weakness Headcanon onto Chloe like she’s shopping cart of angst. Cause yeah Chloe def would have a fear of blood despite her ironic love of swords and shields.

God I knew it all along but somehow it wasn’t even fucking hitting me that Chloe in the movie migrates to her mom not only cause it’s her mom, but it’s her MOM. Her mom who’s DEAD. She’s seeing her mom ALIVE in some way and that must be so fucking conflicting to her and for Ella to have been so cold to her must have been mind breakingly painful. Cause fuck. I totally get the morally gray Ella vibes but Ella’s attitude towards Chloe the whole time was honestly just rude. Like saying that she doesn’t deserve her shoes just cause it was a good thing? Like no that’s not the point at all. The point should have been thag rewards like that are a privilege. And that assuming others have that isn’t good. Not that being rewarded for good behavior WITHOUT EXPECTING IT somehow makes you some prissy uptight monster. Like ugh I could rant about that forever I think they handled that HORRIBLY. Like they’re really trying to make Chloe look like she worked for nothing and just expects lavish gifts. Like NO?! She’s getting straight As. Working herself to the bone for swords and shields. And yes we should all just normally strive to it, but being a good person takes fucking work. Being nice and honorable and kind to all has so much strength! These are all amazing things and it’s not a bad thing at all Chloe was rewarded for it. She worked hard for all of it. It’s the assumption that everyone else’s life is similar and that their is no grey area that’s the bad part. That’s what I wish they focused on.

Anywhoooo. Chloe being rejected AND seeing the blood on her hand must have been so fucking painful. I mean it’s nearly like a graphic symbol of her mom being so brutally decapitated. And Ella with that mother line like GOD. Chloe must feel so damn alone. And I definitely think they overlooked how emotional she should be. Like they needed to incorporate the breakdown you just wrote.

and lordy it must be so fucking painful cause in a cruel twist of irony, the person who decapitated her mom is the one comforting her. The one soothing her and hugging her and taking care of her. Acting so motherly in her own way it must make Chloe miss her own mom even MORE. And any comfort from Bridget must be so damn conflicting cause she’s the enemy. But no one else is comforting her so she’ll take it. Ugh beautiful masterpiece.

LOL and of course I’m a die hard bridgella fan so it’s so fun to see more Bridget and Ella interacting. Like YES Ella stops as soon as she realized she snapped at her precious angel Bridget. YES Bridget is the only one able to get through to Ella when she’s going through something. Yes after Ella apologizes Bridget gives her a kiss and they go snuggle together. Wait huh-

anyway. Adored this fic entirely. I’m vaguely curious to see Ella’s apology now honestly. And I’m also wondering where tf red went. Like girly just disappeared without checking on Chloe 😭

Thank you for reading I’m so glad you enjoyed! I love writing angst so much, especially around Chloe and the lack of grief from Chloe’s end really bugged me in the film.

I’m not sure if I’ll actually write Ella’s apology or not? And as for Red, I actually have an idea about that. She probably goes to break down herself somewhere, cause naturally RED knows fully well how painful it is for Chloe to get rejected by her own mother, because it’s partly her fault Cinderella’s dead. She doesn’t go to comfort Chloe cause I imagine this happens right after they arrive? Like, they hardly know one another yet so they aren’t actually ‘friends’ yet.

Anyway, thanks so much for this! I always love hearing what you have to say 😊

[alastair-1205]

EPISODE 20 REACTIONS FUCKING FINALLY I think I hurt my wrist typing all this ngl. Holy fuck this show-

I am very scared :D 

At least they can still kick ass 

Cinder just cannot stop beating up Euphrasia damn

Stick!

OK SO LOOSING POWERS DOES HAVE AN EFFECT ON YOU THEN 

Im not normal about elemental powers 

Oh no Robie don’t get murdered-

He has the right idea tho with the cup thing

Zane is trying his fucking best rn lol 

Arin is not having any of it 

Oh shit yea they don’t know…all of that other stuff yet huh

THEYRE BACK NICE

Wdym captured by them?? Wtf happened to those two

Cinder is going to kill someone I stg 

LMAO respect where it’s due, that was funny

Robie îs only partially getting kidnapped don’t worry

FUCK YEA FRACK THIS IS WHY I LOVE YOU

I love Nook’s voice as well

FUCK YEA JORDY WIN BACK UR BRAIN

Oh that’s not good 

HELL YEA ARIN 

He’s gonna almost die isn’t he

LMAOOOOOOOOO 

Oh ow rip Robie 

Holy shit that’s actually insane 

OH GOD HE FELL ENTIERLY OFF THE EDGE JESUS 

Oh god they’re all fucked up

JORDY!

Hey the car’s back! AND SO IS JORDANA

OH GODDDDD

OH FUUUUUCK 

RAS AND ARIN MAKE ME INSANE THEY’RE BOTH SO COMPLEX HOLY FUCKKKK

At least most of them are out of it

Bro Robie is making friends with some rocks right now 

BADASS FIGHT IS BADASS

“Not from you” DAMN

OH. OH LLOYD KNOWS. HE KNOWS AND HE KNOWS HE CANT FIGHT IT OH GOD IM GONNA CRY 

ROBIES ALIVE 

I FUCKING LOVE HER SO MUCH 

I LOVE HOW HE WASNT EVEN BOTHERED JUST CONFUSED LMAO 

They’re actually adorable. Like I low-key didn’t want her to get a bf but this is so cute good for them 

But uh, y’all kinda have shit to do first-

Zdmn she almost got decapitated 

OH DAMN THIS IS PERSONAL

Bold choices Arin

KAI AND BONZEL 

Nil kinda wish he stayed in super hell longer but it’s ok 

CUZ THAT WAS A FUCKING ENTRANCE 

Oh hes pisssedddddd

They are such a dynamic duo omg that was iconic 

FUCK YEA ROBIE 

GET IT GEO 

LMAO that was personal for Euphrasia. Good for her 

LMAO HES JUST GETTING FUCKING DRAGGED HELP

BOLD CHOICES ARIN I STG 

Oh that scream :(((((

Oh fuuuuuck Arin made his choice 

Group hug :D That Lloyd isn’t in cuz he’s having a moment D:

BONZEL AND COLE :D

I’m just gonna assume he somehow knew she wasn’t dead ig? 

Wu being cryptic as always. We don’t even know if hes dead or not 

LMAO CINDER IN JAIL GET FUCKED

Yay for Sora but she is Not having a good time rn huh

Damn I wonder where Jordy went 

Lloyd and Sora man…..

That is a very good question Sora

THEYRE HOLDING HANDSSSSS

Kai should give this kid a shovel talk. I think it’d be funny 

GEO FRACK AND BONZEL AND FROCHICKY YAY

THEYRE GONNA TRACK DOWN JAY

Damn so they could be literally anywhere. They gotta track down Jay Arin and Pixal. At least Zane might get some time to look now

Dragon lady’s back 

I’m glad she’s not being a dick to him like Egalt would have been lol 

Oooooo Dragon favor 

Oh that’s an interesting thing for him to have 

I like how Arin’s reasonings are worded. Like he clearly still doesn’t exactly like Ras, he just needs him for his own thing. I really like that as opposed to Arin fully believing in what he’s doing cuz Arin just wouldn’t 

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 5th: Role Model | Slow Down — Ozzy Osbourne | Brave a/n: hospital setting, dustin & eddie heart-to-heart, post-s4 canon, implied pre-steddie if you squint. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

Eddie’s always hated the color white. 

It’s too… empty, still, plain. Is it even a color? Or is it just the absence of color? He’s never been sure. Maybe he should’ve paid a little more attention in his art classes instead of going off-task and drawing Hellfire and Corroded Coffin designs. What matters though is that he’s always hated the color white and now, in what can only be described as adding insult to injury, he’s connected to several beeping machines surrounded and draped in nothing but white. Sterile, boring, useless white. 

The beeping is at least a solace, both in its predictable rhythm and as a sign that he’s still alive. Maybe he’ll eventually feel more comfortable with his survival but it’d been touch and go for awhile there so for now, he’s glad to have some sort of reminder that his heart is, indeed, beating. 

Another welcome reminder is the slew of visitors he’s had since waking up, some of whom have apparently been in and out since before he’d been brought out of the medically-induced coma. Wayne, of course, was no surprise. Steve, and Robin, and Nancy, and a few of their friends from California were something of a surprise but he supposes it makes sense. They’d nearly gone down together and Eddie’s sure they’re splitting time between his room and Max’s down the hall. 

Dustin Henderson though? Dustin surprises him. 

Not necessarily that he’s been there, waiting, probably giving the nurses the worst headaches of their lives with his questions and suggestions. The little shit loves him, he knows that without a shadow of a doubt now, but Eddie’s shocked that he’s not angry. Since waking up, Eddie’s just laid there, watching cartoons on the tiny TV bolted into the corner of the too-white room with the kid, his own casted leg propped up on the side of Eddie’s bed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was just at home in the trailer. It feels too normal. 

Finally, one day, Eddie asks. Maybe it’s the latest round of painkillers that loosen his lips, but he has to ask. He has to know. 

“Henderson?” Eddie asks, keeping his eyes trained on the television. 

“Yeah?” Dustin responds. 

“Are you like… are we like… are we good? Are you not pissed at me?” It’s hard for him to choke out, stumbling over his words. The opinion of a kid shouldn’t frighten him so much but goddamn, it’s like asking his little brother if he hates him. He’s terrified of a Yes. 

Silence sits between them, Dustin surely burning a hole into the side of Eddie’s head. He can damn near feel it. Scooby Doo drones on though, and Eddie hopes that maybe Dustin just didn’t hear him. He’s on the good shit, so maybe he’d only asked in his head. 

“I was, a little bit, yeah.” 

But was is past-tense, and that just makes no sense. Dustin deserves to be mad at him, he’d gone off the plan and nearly died in front of him. Why isn’t he mad? What changed?

“What changed your mind?” Eddie still doesn’t look at him. 

“Dude, look at me for a second. This is way more important than what closet the ghost ran into.” Dustin’s tone is annoyed and a little pushy, just the way he’d been before all of this. 

Eddie sighs and turns to face Dustin, who’s looking at him with pinched eyebrows and wide eyes. 

“I was so goddamn mad at you, Eddie. You almost died. Well, technically, you did for a minute there but that’s besides my point. You didn’t need to go back, and I was mad that you, someone I look up to, did something so stupid.” 

Dustin takes a breath– it’s shaky, and Eddie nods him on encouragingly. He doesn’t speak though, doesn’t want to interrupt something that’s clearly not done. 

“And then… well, Steve sat me down and explained what you said when he was carrying you out of there.” 

Eddie’s heart monitor speeds up at the mention of Steve, and the mention that he’d apparently been talking before he blacked out and has absolutely no fucking memory of what he’d said. Dustin, genius and all that, notices and places a hand on top of Eddie’s which he only distantly recognizes is gripping the edge of the bar. 

“Hey, you alright?” 

Eddie nods again and makes a gesture with his free hand to continue. If he opens his mouth, he might vomit. Or panic. Maybe both, and neither is conducive to the conversation at hand. He’ll have that conversation with Steve later. 

Dustin eyes him with uncertainty but continues on regardless. “So, yeah. Steve told me what you said about making sure that I was okay, that you were bleeding out all over him and couldn’t shut up about my stupid ankle, that you were so sorry and it wasn’t supposed to happen like that, that you were trying to help however you could but you couldn’t let the bats get out. Or get to me.” 

Eddie sees the way Dustin’s throat bobs and his eyes begin to gloss over. If he starts crying right now, Eddie might lose it himself. He’s about to make some joke and deflect like he always does, but Dustin steamrolls on. 

“And that’s just– Eddie, do you know how brave that is? That’s the stuff of D&D heroism. That’s insane, and don’t ever do it again, but how could I stay mad at you for caring about me? And about all of us? I’m not a complete asshole.” 

Dustin calls him brave and Eddie's chest tightens, his jaw clicking with the effort it takes not to burst into tears. A few deep breaths later and he’s able to open his mouth without humiliating himself. 

“Well, not all the time, at least,” he teases, his laugh weak and his smile wide. 

“You know, Eddie, we were having such a nice moment there and you had to go and ruin it.” Dusin retorts, rolling his eyes and settling back into his chair. “Actually, you’re the asshole because you haven’t even asked to sign my cast yet. I’ve been telling everyone else who’s asked No because you get first dibs.” 

Dustin fishes around in his pocket, twisting in weird ways that Eddie can’t imagine he’ll ever be able to again, before coming up with a black Sharpie. “Do your worst.” 

Eddie takes the Sharpie and stares down at the cast. It’s white, just like the bed sheets and the painted cinder block walls, and curtains, and stupid hospital gown that doesn’t close in the back. But Dustin’s cast doesn’t feel sterile or empty. 

It just feels like canvas, and maybe the walls of this hospital room can be the same blank slate on which Eddie can rebuild his life.

[mymreaderlibrary]

Hey buddy, gotta say, fucking LOVE your old man yaoi post with price and reader. It's also one of my favorite things and shit if you'd like could you write more about them? Like I need these two old men to finally own up and kiss damnit 😭

I wanted to get this out way earlier but ANYWAYS IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT AAAAGHHGH I honestly wanted to write about it a lil more but I wasn’t sure. I hope this is good, no beta cause I’m a looney toons of a writer who’s stubborn as hell.

[old friends to lovers, slight angst, injury ment, laswell is so fuckin annoyed by being the only smart person, use of y/n though they’re kinda treated more like an oc sorry, the ramblings continue]

[length: 1324 words]

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They didn't speak of the night before, but they honestly didn't have to. Y/n and Price could tell their feelings were mutual, or at least stronger than a typical friendship, but instead they chose to be stopped by an invisible road block.

For y/n it was the feeling of lost time. They weren't young anymore, they didn't have the energy nor time for things like relationships and... well he wasn't sure if Price would want to be stuck with an old fart like himself. Price aged in a way that'd make any man jealous meanwhile y/n? Not so much. He was greying, his bones ached more often than not, he spent half of his time drinking shitty liquor that made his teeth reek, and, as much as he hates to admit it, he's just not handsome anymore. Price deserved to be with someone who still had life to them. Maybe a spunky military gal who could keep him on his toes or private operative with an infinite list of missions to complete. What he didn't need, however, was someone who already had their chance and wasted it. Y/n should've told him just how much Price meant to him, how much he envied the people who got to stay by his side. He should've searched for him, got on his hands and knees and begged to come with. Convince whoever had them separated to change their mind. He didn't care if he still went through the same pain he did when he was alone, if he had to amputate his own damn leg again, or deal with the loss of his parents one more time. As long as he could've done it by Price's side he would've been happy or at the very least satisfied. But that was the past and the current y/n could never catch up to the man Price had become.

However for Price it was guilt. He remembered the days that y/n and him felt invincible. Like every little thing was just a stepping stone in their grand journey to glory. No matter the pain they persevered, found solutions where others would've given up, made names for themselves amongst crowds of soldiers all baring the same purpose. Too bad those names couldn't stop them from being split up, from losing their friends, their families, from being sent all across the world with no way of knowing if the other was even alive. Those names couldn't stop y/n from losing his entire calf... (Price hated that he only knew of his friends injury due a rumor involved with y/n's discharge). Y/n shouldn't even be here, his time in the military was over, he paid his penance, he should be at home watching tv on a leather couch with a beer in hand. Nothing on the mind but whatever sore loser couldn't figure out tonight's Jeopardy categories. But no, Price had to go and drag him out from retirement, right back onto the front lines. Straight back into trouble. Even if he wasn't on the field that didn't mean he was away from risk. His mere association with the 141 planted a target on his back that wouldn’t be removed by simply walking away. Price didn't feel he deserved y/n's affection not when all he ever did was put him in danger.

So they both stayed like that, infinitely stubborn, hellishly avoidant, and not nearly as sly as they thought. The 141 didn't have a full understanding of what was going on between the two, but they could tell there was some unfinished business. Gaz thought maybe one of them slighted the other and neither have taken the step to apologize for it. Soap thought y/n perhaps betrayed Price and that's why he's missing part of his leg. Ghost had... almost the right idea, thinking there was a strange tinge of romantic tension between the two though he assumed it was from something like a love triangle. Maybe y/n and Price loved the same woman and had some unfinished rivalry? Regardless, it was not his problem so much as it didn’t effect the mission.

Laswell however, she knew. She wouldn't have the position she did if information like this just flew past her radar. She knew of their history, she saw how they reacted to one another. Laswell wasn't blind for god's sake, in fact she felt like the only one with eyes at the moment. She wasn't so crass as to demand them to make up and get it over with, but having no one to complain to was definitely testing her patience. Instead she stuck to subtly, casually chatting with Price about y/n and dropping questions in regards to their past missions together and how close they were, hoping to make some wheels turn in his rusted head. She wasn't gonna do more than that however, they were two grown men and if they couldn’t figure it out that was their problem. Could they just be a little more subtle though?

It took until a, quite literally, explosive scenario for them to finally get it together. A bullet had gotten lodged into Price's shoulder after an enemy made a lucky shot. It was far from the worst thing the Captain had faced but it still wasn't great, hurt like a bitch for one. And secondly it seemed to send y/n into a spiral. He was practically fuming when Price got back, going on some sort of rant about hygiene and wound care. Y/n demanded to be the one to dress Price's shoulder with a tone that had the others knowing they were not invited to watch unless they wanted to join in on the incoming lecture. And lecture he did, through the whole process Price could barely get a word in. Y/n paced and raved, threw his arms in the air and even knocked over supplies on accident. He was a complete mess and it wasn't until y/n was literally out breath that the Captain could finally speak.

An explanation of what happened was given, it was just luck (bad luck in regards to Price) that he got hit. This wasn’t overly common and the team knew how to deal with these wounds. Everything was okay, it was going to be fine. This just came with the job, risks were inevitable.

They were quiet, looking at each other and letting the silence permeate the room. Price reached his hand out to touch y/n’s but was caught off guard as the other man suddenly leaned it. Knocking his head against Price’s good shoulder and breathing heavily, y/n shuddered a silent cry. A plead for Price to be safe. Whatever false version of safety he could promise, just please don’t die out there.

The Captain raised his outstretched hand to cup the back of y/n’s head, running a thumb over the stubbled hair. Letting his hand slide to his face and pushing him back just an inch.

Another moment of silence. Hearts beating like rabbits.

“You gonna actually do something or do I-“

Price shut him up as quickly as he could. It was clumsy, a bit shaky, and definitely desperate, but the moment their lips touched it felt like pure ecstatic relief. Relief that this was finally happening, relief that the invisible barrier they built around each other was so weak, but mostly relief that those moments, all those touches and lingering stares weren’t for nothing.

They breathed in each others scent, something they’ve come to know so well and yet in this moment it felt brand new, and infinitely stronger. The spice of a cigar, the sting of sweat, and- oh right, sterile wipes. Price was left to chuckle awkwardly and y/n backed away. Any childish excitement felt would have to wait but at the very least they had this.

[captain-mj]

Vampires Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Soap sat at the table right after sunset. His vampires, Price, and now Chuy, because apparently he decided to invite himself in, were sitting with him. Chuy was wearing his outfit again, deer skull included. It made him look very unnerving. 

“So your fiance will be here soon?”

Price nodded excitedly. “Yep. She’s wonderful.”

“She?” Ghost laughed before realizing he was serious. “Ah. Damn. Seriously?”

Price frowned. “I’m bisexual.”

“I know, I just thought better of women. Even witch women.” Ghost replied, shrugging. 

Price stared at him, slightly opened mouthed. “Damn. Cold, Simon.”

“Ghost.”

“Simon. Anyway, she’ll be here shortly. Her name is Clara.” He looked so happy that Soap couldn’t help but feel happy for him. Even if he was pretty sure Price was being used. 

Alejandro hummed. “Right. Anyway.”

Rodolfo raised his hand. “I don’t really care about your fiance, I’m more worried about the hunter walking around talking about bigfoot. Can we focus on that?”

“No. you guys gotta meet my fiance.” 

“Fuck that.” Alejandro spoke up. “I agree with my lovely husband.” He kissed Rudy’s hand, looking at him with giant heart eyes. 

Ghost groaned. “Do you guys have to be so in love?”

“Loser.” 

“Lonely ass bitch.” 

Ghost frowned. “Goddamn…” 

Price hissed loudly and they all turned towards him. He looked a little flustered, as if they weren’t actually supposed to hear him. He took a deep breath. “As the eldest vampire, I am requesting you guys please meet her.” It was said with a touch of… sincerity that had been absent from Price in a wild. 

Interviewer: I’ve been meaning to ask. Ghost puts up with Price because he’s his sire. Rodolfo seems to like him. However, you don’t seem to like him. 

Alejandro: Don’t know. Guess I miss how he was. Sometimes it feels like I got the last few years of lucidity. He probably told he was four hundred years older than Ghost right?

Interviewer: I thought he said two hundred.

Alejandro: He told Rodolfo a hundred. I thought for the longest time it was just something he did, but I think he just doesn’t remember.

Interviewer: Ah. And the comment about lucidity.

Alejandro: I think he’s half insane. It happens. Mentally, being alive a long time… it makes things tiring. 

Interviewer: I noticed the way you looked away when Rodolfo asked if you regretted being turned. Do you?

Alejandro: No. Course not. I love my husband.

Interviewer: I can see your love and devotion to him. But I’m asking, do you wish you died human? 

Alejandro: Sometimes, I do. I wish Rodolfo killed me that night. However, I’d never want to make him go through the centuries alone, so I’m glad I am here with him. 

Interviewer: Thank you, Alejandro.

“Alright, sir.” Ghost mumbled. “I’ll meet Clara.” He smiled, eyes crinkling. 

Price smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you, Simon. Rodolfo, Alejandro, Gaz, I hope you all like her.”

Simon and Chuy looked at each other and shook their heads.

Gaz hummed. “Will it be super awkward?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Gaz nodded. “That sounds nice. Like chicken soup after a hard day. I’m in.” 

Interviewer: So do you regret turning into a vampire?

Gaz: How do you know I wasn’t born an energy vampire?

Interviewer: Oh, were you? That’s fascinating.

Gaz: No, I mean I was turned. Just why did you assume?

Interviewer: I mean. I just thought all vampires were turned. Who was your sire? 

Gaz: My mom when she birthed me. I lied, I was born.

Interviewer canceled the rest of the interviewer due to “broken pencils”. 

Price smiled fondly at Gaz before quickly going to get the door, answering before Clara even had the chance to knock. She giggled as he picked her up and twirled her before leading her to the kitchen. 

“Oh this is nauseating.” 

Rodolfo hit Ghost. “They’re cute.”

They kissed passionately. 

“Nevermind.” Rodolfo hissed under his breath. “Clara?”

Clara quickly pushed Price back a little and properly introduced herself. She was how described. Dark hair and nice. 

Too nice. 

Soap liked her. She shook his head and smiled at him before moving on to them. 

“Oh!” Clara said softly while staring at Ghost. “You must be Simon.”

Price flinched and looked guilty. And a tiny bit betrayed, as if he had warned her prior.

“Don’t call me that.” Ghost got up. “Okay, this is horrible. I need to leave.”

Price grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. “A little effort.” 

“Don’t call me something stupid.”

Price sighed and plastered a smile on his face. “Ghost.” He introduced everyone there to Clara and Clara waved just a little. She didn’t look at Price much, but when she did, she did look like she liked him. Maybe not love in any of their opinions, but that’s okay. Maybe it would blossom? 

If they stayed together long enough. 

Maybe. 

The two of them stared at each other for just a second and Chuy got uncomfortable. 

“Alright. I’m gonna head out.” 

Clara frowned a little before perking up. “I’ve heard about a hunter in this area. Hope you’re doing okay and he hasn’t given you too many problems.”

Chuy faltered and shrank down when Reyes got brought up. Ghost wondered why he didn’t just have them get rid of the guy. It would be easier. 

“Well… yeah. He’s uh… Yeah…”

Clara noticed his hesitance and decided to drop it. 

They had a delightful conversation honestly. 

Price informed them all that the wedding would be that Friday. “Because of the goddess Freyja. May she bless our marriage.” He smiled, showing fangs. 

Rodolfo looked at the interviewer, clearly cringing. 

“That sounds wonderful.”

“May Clara stay here until then? We’re having the ceremony in the graveyard nearby.” Price took his hat off and held it to his chest in a pleading manner.

Collective groans occurred before they agreed. She could stay. 

Interviewer: The vampires think you’re after Price for his… uh…

Clara: His money? No. I’m rich enough actually.

Interviewer: No his… um… Dick?

Clara: It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not that artificial. I just want his heart. 

Interviewer: That’s sweet. 

Gaz put his hands on the table. “Before I ask this, I promise not to feed on anyone.”

Price nodded. “Okay.”

“Can I bring Alex?”

“That dog?” Price groaned. 

Alejandro started to look at face masks and Febreze. 

“Yes. He’s my boyfriend. You can’t tell me he’s not attractive.”

Soap nodded. “And really cool too.”

“See! And he doesn’t smell bad. He smells like cologne because he drowns himself in it before he comes here.”

“Maybe that’s the problem.”

Gaz sighed. “If he can’t come, I’m not coming.”

Price rubbed his temples. “Alright. He can come. Have him invite Laswell too.”

“At that point, why not invite the rest of the pack?” Alejandro pointed out, frowning. More out of confusion than anything else now. 

“Fair. Let’s just invite all of them. And Chuy. And Koenig if the lad can ever make it here. I heard he was coming to our area a while ago.” Price pointed out. 

Ghost hummed. “I’ll reach out to him through the ether later.”

“Fantastic idea!” Price clapped, looking very excited. “I’m getting married again!” 

Interviewer: So, why do you want to kill bigfoot so bad?

Reyes: Bigfoot took someone very dear to me. 

Interviewer: You want revenge?

Reyes: Yes. Bigfoot took… well. I shouldn’t say boyfriend. We were neighbors. Jesus. He was beautiful. He was kind. Rather generous but could set harsh boundaries if needed. I fell in love with him more every time we interacted. I watched that thing disappear from his home the same night he disappeared. 

Interviewer: And why a crossbow?

Reyes: Well, the majority of hunters use them. They’re quieter, easier to certain materials, and you can reuse arrows. Plus, a lot of creatures aren’t hurt by bullets and needed something sharp that will pierce them. 

Interviewer: Fascinating. Thank you so much. What else do you hunt?

Reyes: Well, normally I hunt and kill werewolves but since the night happened, bigfoot is all I have my eyes on. 

Interviewer: Understood. And where are your plans now?

Reyes: To break into the Scottish man’s home because I know he’s harboring monsters. 

Interviewer: How can you tell?

Reyes: Only someone who knows of monsters listens to advice from someone who’s a monster hunter. He didn’t take me seriously, so he wasn’t paranoid. 

Interviewer: That’s smart.

Reyes stayed true to his word. He caught them by surprise because the interviewer wasn’t going to interfere there. With his crossbow in hand, he aimed right at Chuy. Deer skull shining in the cryptic light of the room. 

“You bastard. I am finally getting my revenge against you.”

Chuy perked up when he came into the room. Not flinched or shrank or looked to leave. He leaned into Reyes’s aim. Soap thought he was an odd fellow. 

“Why?” Rodolfo interrupted his clearly well thought out speech. He was currently sewing and seemed a bit put off about being interrupted. Everyone else was around doing similar hobbies now that Price had stopped talking to them. Even Soap was just casually drawing. 

Reyes stumbled over it, caught off guard. “As I was about to explain.”

Clara snapped her fingers. There was no blast or light. Just a simple sound. 

Reyes swallowed thickly and shook his head. “Ah…. I was saying…” He paused again and this time frowned. His nose twitched and all the bravado left him. 

The man shook and shuddered, not fully reacting yet but clearly something… internal was happening. 

Chuy stood and rushed to grab Reyes who tried to get away from him. Soap prepared himself to watch Chuy rip the man to shreds but before Chuy could even lift his mask to uncover his mouth, Reyes shrank and contorted. His body twisted and curled, enough to drag ragged, pained groans before they transitioned into squeaks. The shirt in Chuy’s hands stayed solid but the rest dissolved and bubbled into the rest of him. And in his place stood. 

A rat. 

Well groomed and with fur as dark as Reyes’s hair. It looked soft. Almost cute. 

Chuy scooped him up immediately. “Enzo?”

The rats frantic movements to escape halted as it went still, looking at Chuy with wide rat eyes. 

Chuy slid the mask off, revealing his face to the rat who continued to stare.

“Mi corazón. I am so sorry. I was so bored with my old life, I never anticipated anyone noticing me being gone. Yes, I lived as your neighbor your years, but I never realized how you looked at me.”

Alejandro stopped playing the piano. The room was silent.

“I noticed you but you were human. I couldn’t… drag you into this world when it’s so unsafe.”

If Ghost put his hand on Soap, it wasn’t noticeable. 

“I live so long. I wanted to start new. Do something completely different. You were… new. So fun. Interesting. As you chased me, I will admit, I grew affectionate for you. Maybe that was my mistake, putting you in such danger.” Chuy gently pet the rat, watching it relax. “Mi corazón, can you understand me?”

No response. 

“That is okay. It’s best you still don’t know my affections. You should go home. Be human like you’re supposed to be.” 

Chuy gently held the rat. “My sweet Enzo.” He took a deep breath and held him out to Clara. “I appreciate what you did. But I’d like you to turn him back and erase his memories of me.” 

Clara frowned. “No.”

Chuy frowned. “What. No. You don’t get to say no, change him back.”

“I can’t. I’m not able to erase memories. Not the right kind of witch for that. If I make him human, he’ll probably kill us.”

“No, listen, I can talk to him then. Convince him to leave, he has a soft spot for me, It’ll be fine.”

Clara frowned and waved her hand, but nothing happened. “Sorry, out of juice. He’s stuck.”

Chuy stared at Enzo, the rat in his hands. 

“Look, luckily with his age, you have another few months!” She clapped happily. “Plus, well, he was only human. What’s the saying? Don’t worry about breaking them, they’ll die soon anyway? Or is it don’t worry about breaking them, they’re replaceable? You said it yourself, this world is dangerous for him. At least now, you can keep him safe in your pocket. Now, I’m going to go finish planning my wedding.”

Chuy stared at Reyes in his hands, clearly seething. He growled and Soap noticed how many teeth he had. 

“Do any of you know any other fucking witches?”

[danses-with-dogmeat]

P is for -- Preston Garvey

🥺 Just... sweet, lovely Preston. I'm so so glad he won. I often say that the winners deserved it, but Preston DESERVED it, you know? I love him, I love y'all for voting for him, I hope you sincerely enjoy this ❤️

And here is the 2k event masterlist, for your browsing pleasure!

--

Pair: Preston Garvey x g/n! Sole

Dialogue: “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Word: Prolong

Rating: SFW

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 800

“Psst.” Preston knocked softly at Sole’s bedroom door. "Uh, you're in there, right, babe?"

His heart was in his throat, after all that had happened, all that they’d told him when they returned from the Institute. Preston just remembered being beyond grateful that they’d come back to him at all, that they were alive and safe, and he’d told them just as much. 

But they... they hadn’t agreed with him, and damn, but that killed him. 

“Sole?” Preston tried again, his voice still weak from disuse. 

All the patrols over the past two days, that’s… all he’d done. Even Sturges hadn’t heard his voice. No meetings, no missions, no small talk with settlers, barely any contact with anyone at all. No… All Preston had room for right now was the worry in his heart for his partner. His general, his love, god, his life now… and they were hurting, beyond anything they’d ever shown on the surface before, and instead of craving his help, falling into his arms or crying on his shoulder, they’d just… shut him out.

Was that… normal? Was it okay? Should he press them in order to help, or give them space and let them come to him? 

Preston had always, always come to Sole in his times of uncertainty, of desperation and depression, seeking words and touches of comfort, their advice, their warmth. 

If Sole didn’t do the same, well… What was he supposed to make of that? Was he doing something wrong, or was it just the way that his partner chose to cope with their own hardships and emotions? On their own… it was hard for the minuteman to stomach it. 

“Come in.” 

The monotone words jarred Preston back to reality, and he damn near charged into the room at the sound of their permission being granted to him. 

“Hey, Sole.” His voice was softer, higher-pitched than usual, like if he spoke any other way it would just break them into pieces. “I… just wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Preston closed the door behind him, and approached slowly, then kneeled beside his partner where they were seated on their bed. 

Sole looked… well enough, he supposed. Perhaps a bit disheveled, with the dark circles under their eyes and their hair unusually gnarled, but Preston tried to bar himself from becoming too outwardly worried about them. Still though, he wasn’t quite sure how to approach… Or what to say.

Tell me how to help you, love, and I'll do it.

“Okay?” Sole croaked, and already, he felt ashamed at his wording. 

Of course they’re not okay, not after everything they’ve been through. How could I have--? Ugh…

Preston grimaced at their reaction. 

They must be better at this than I am. 

No wonder they preferred being alone to this.

“Not really."

He was relieved when they continued, until what they'd actually said hit him.

"But… I think I’ll make it...”

Preston felt a painful pang ring throughout his chest at their words. Though they held hope to them, Sole's voice didn't quite reflect it.

“Look, Preston…” 

He held his breath, hearing his own heart pounding in his ears as they trailed off forebodingly. 

“I’m sorry.” Sole said with a deep exhale. “I know I’ve been shutting you out, and maybe… I know it’s not fair to you, that you want to help, but… I just don’t know if that’s even possible.”

Another agonizing ache squeezed at his heart, and Preston tentatively rose to sit upon the bed next to his partner. Sole made no move to stop him, and so he set his hand over theirs on the mattress, his warmth passing into their own cold hand through his caress. 

“Well, with your permission, sir/ma'am, I’d like to try.” 

Sole’s vibrant eyes, now seeming more monochrome, more dull than he’d ever remembered seeing them before, set upon him as their brows raised in question. 

“Even if it’s impossible, like you said... you’re worth trying. More than worth it, actually.” Preston tried to smile at them, but he was afraid his worry continued to show through. No matter what expression he tried though, he was certain that’d be the case. 

“Thanks.” Sole whispered it so low, it could hardly be deemed a breath. But still, Preston heard it. 

“C-can I… Can I hug you?” He asked, even as he unwittingly scooched closer to them on the bed. 

“I think I’d like that.” Sole said, the barest, thinnest hint of a smile shining through their expression as they half-heartedly opened their arms to him.

It was incredible, Preston couldn’t help but think, the way their hugs healed him. The way Sole’s touches bled comfort straight into his body, their hand in his felt like a bond strong enough to hold the two halves of the world together, his head on their shoulder made it seem like he could withstand just about anything, like this world of theirs' was… manageable, even with all of its faults, its violence, its tragedy. 

He wished the feeling could last him-- them both-- forever.

And Preston hoped that even half of what Sole's comfort did for him was shining through in this one tight embrace. If it did, then maybe, just maybe, it truly was possible for his partner to be okay again. 

[sugolara]

𝙎𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜

ft. Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto Todoroki x Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

previous || series m.list || next

When the sun arrived, Katsuki and Shoto knew that Izuku and F/n weren’t coming after they heard gunshots. They feared the worst and instead of their death plaguing their thoughts they both left the van and made their way to where Izuku and F/n were last seen.

They had little hope of finding them when Shoto nudged Katsuki and pointed to the ground where a gun that Shoto gave Izuku was laying. With a solemn face, they continued their way.

“You think they might still be alive?” Shoto said as he wiped some blood off his cheeks.

“I don’t know.” Katsuki grumbled, his eyes searching the ground for footprints. He then looked up with an annoyed look as there were too many footprints from the dead. 

He was glad that F/n had taught him while they were on the road, before they saw Shoto.

“You see that.” F/n pointed to the ground, “You see how the footprints are all scattered?”

Katsuki nods, “What is it?”

“You tell me.” She said and looked at Katsuki.

The blonde rolled his eyes at her and stared at the footprints intently, “An animal? No…it's the dead.”

 He looked up at her and grinned when she nodded. “Damn, I'm getting pretty good at this. Pretty soon me and Deku won’t need you.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” F/n rolled her eyes as she smiled. She then walked a few steps ahead and stopped before pointing back at the ground, “What do you think that is?” 

Katsuki hummed as he looked at it, “Well, the steps seem calm and it seems like they’re not all over the place so,” he then glared at F/n, “How do you expect me to learn when Deku’s the one who's making these damn prints!?” 

F/n crossed her arms, “You got to know the difference from a human and the dead. And besides, it’s not just Izuku’s steps. It’s mine as well. Do you see how the prints go over each other?” 

His mind was brought back when he and Shoto stopped near a river. They watched as a few rotters tried to move but they seemed to be stuck.

“We should go over.” Shoto said and began to move into the river, “Maybe they made it to the other side.”

He shivered as the cold water went up to his hips, he held the duffel bag of ammo so it wouldn't get wet. Katsuki followed behind as he to shivered from the water.

When they made it on land, Katsuki’s eyes widened as he saw rushing footprints, “Someone’s nearby.”

“Where?” Shoto said as he held his gun and looked around.

“Come on.” Katsuki said and followed the footprints, “Maybe Deku or F/n is around. One of them passed the river.”

“What makes you so sure?” The dual-haired male said as he looked at the footprints, “Those could be anybody’s.”

“Have a little faith, will you?” Katsuki scoffed, “None of this shit would have happened if you went with them. Everything would’ve been fine.”

“You weren’t planning on coming.” Shoto responded as he glared at the blonde, “I’m not dense. I knew and even Izuku knew you were planning on dying in order for us to be safe. Everything wouldn’t have been fine.”

He looked ahead, “And I do have faith. But the chances of ever seeing them again when we don’t even know if they’re still out here is little. I’m just stating the obvious.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes and continued forward until the footprints died down and other footprints–the dead–were on top of it. He felt frustrated as they exited the forest and entered a broken gated community. 

“Maybe one of them is here.” Shoto said and marched forward. 

“Maybe.” Katsuki whispered and followed after Shoto. 

With little help, they both threw their duffel bags to the other side and pulled themselves up onto the brick walls. They jumped down and picked up their bags before walking further. 

It felt eerie the more they walked into the town. It was so quiet that they swore they could hear their shuffling footsteps echoing through the town. They did find it odd that there seemed to be no rotters roaming.

“That's strange that there’s no dead.” Shoto looked at every house they passed. He found most of them boarded up with planks and chains. 

“Someone might have already claimed this as their own.” Katsuki thought as he also noticed the houses boarded up. 

Shoto stopped as he looked at a two story house that wasn’t sealed, “We should check this place out. See if someone left food.”

Katsuki looked up at the house, his gun cocking, “Okay.”

Opening and closing the door, they separated and watched their steps. Their ears listened to any movement that wasn’t them. While Katsuki was downstairs, Shoto headed upstairs. 

He silently cursed the floorboards that creaked underneath him with every step he made. He kept his gun lowered as he opened every door. He would ransack the room and check possible hiding spots but he sighed as he found nothing.

Running his hands over his face, he let out a frustrated groan and kicked a few boxes nearby. He stomped on them until they were flat or unproportional. He sat down and stared at his hand.

He felt so disappointed and ashamed with himself for not arguing and coming up with a different plan back at the van. If he had, then Izuku and F/n would still be here and they would still be a group.

Now, all he thought about was that one day he would see their rotting corpses trying to eat him. 

He let out a sigh and stared at nothing. That was until his eyes caught a latch underneath some hanged clothes. Bewilder, he opened it, a few creaks echoed in the closet. His eyebrows raised as he pulled out a corn canned food. 

“Better than nothing.” He then made his way downstairs where he saw Katsuki sitting in the with a bored look, “Found something.”

The blonde looked up at him, “Great. Fucking corn. Exactly what we need.”

The other male rolled his eyes and sat down. He pulled out his knuckle knife and began to open the can. The two sat in the small kitchen, their own thoughts and hope plaguing their minds. 

[veryhardymemes]

Noah Kahan Sentence Starters Stick Season (We’ll Be Here Forever)

Content Warning For: Suicidal ideations/imagery, mentions of alcohol/drugs, depression/melancholia, mentions of COVID

Northern Attitude:

How you been? Settled down?

How’re your kids?

Where are you?

What does it mean?

Forgive my northern attitude

Stick Season:

I am stuck between my anger and the blame that I can't face

Memories are something even smoking weed does not replace

Doc told me to travel but there's COVID on the planes

I love Vermont, but it's the season of the sticks

I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed

I just like to play the victim

I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad that I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from dad

I’m no longer funny

My other half was you

I hope this pain’s just passing through 

I doubt it

All My Love:

How have things been?

Well, now that you mention it

I'm saying too much but you know how it gets out here

No winter coat could keep out all the cold of your atmosphere

You got all my love

If you need me dear, I'm the same as I was

You burrowed in under my skin

What I'd give to have you out from me

I just hope that your scars heal

I swear I was scared to death

She Calls Me Back:

Oh, there was heaven in your eyes

Everything’s alright when she calls me back

Look at me and don't you lie

For bullshit I do not have time

Does it bite at your edges?

Do you lie awake restless?

Why am I so obsessive?

This town's the same as you left it

The radio is taunting me

I don't get much sleep most nights

I'm seeing you in every dream

If only I could wake you up

If only I could fall asleep

I'll love you when the oceans dry

I'll love you when the rivers freeze

I was too afraid of living life in your footsteps

Come Over:

I’m in the business of losing your interest

Don't you know there's a coffin buried under the garden?

You won't have to guess who they're speaking about

I'm in the process of clearing out cobwebs

I was taking the wrong meds

It feels good to be sad

I know that it ain’t much

I know that it ain’t cool

You don’t have to tell the other kids at school

Someday I’m gonna be somebody people want

New Perspective:

Silence is making me nostalgic

We were kids but that don't make this less hard

If I could fly I doubt I'd even do it

You made Ohio feel just like Central Park

You and all of your new perspective now

Everywhere, Everything:

It's been a long year

Would we survive in a horror movie?

We trust everyone we meet

I wanna love you 'till we're food for the worms to eat

Keep my hand in yours

Orange Juice: 

Honey, come over

We know you got sober

There's orange juice in the kitchen

It’s yours if you want it

We're just glad you could visit

The last time I drank I was face down passed out there on your lawn

Are we all just crows to you now?

Are we all just pulling you down?

You didn't put those bones in the ground

Strawberry Wine:

Darling speak to me

Remember telling me that you thought you were cursed?

I'm in love with every song you've ever heard

If I could lose you I would

We buried your bones in plywood

I said love is fast asleep on a dirt road with your head on my shoulder

For you, darling, for you

No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft and sentimental like a stranger in the park

For a few moments, I see you

Growing Sideways:

So I took my medication

We argued about Jesus

I said I’m cured

I’m still angry at my parents

But it’s a start

I ignore things

At the end of the day I know there are worse ways to stay alive

I'm terrified that I might never have met me

I guess I’ll drive

So I forgot my medication

Now I’m suffering in style

Why is pain so damn impatient?

It's better to die numb than feel at all

Halloween:

I'm sailing away to a place I'm afraid of

I'm drinking my days with the coastal longshoreman

I drink 'till I drown and I smoke 'till I'm burning

I worry for you

You worry for me

I'm leaving this town and I'm changing my address

I know that you'll come if you want

There's a murder of crows in the low light off Boston

Homesick:

Two months since you got back

Are you bored yet?

The weather ain’t been bad

If you’re into masochistic bullshit

This place is such great motivation for anyone tryna move

Time moves so damn slow

I swear I feel my organs failing

I would leave if only I could find a reason

I'm mean because I grew up in New England

I got dreams but I can't make myself believe them

I’m homesick

Still:

I don’t want to say goodbye

You find love that lasts a while 'till you lose the reasons

You miss something that you can't place but you can't deny it

It's like I'm still here with you

It's a bottomless hole I've found out here with a trace of no one

The View Between Villages:

For a minute the world seems so simple

I’m seventeen again

I am not scared of death

I’ve got dreams again

Your Needs, My Needs:

Oh well, who was I?

Who was I to watch you wilt?

You ain't gotta tell me what it means

You'll always be a flower on my skin

I promise to be there this time

I'm naming the stars in the sky after you

Dial Drunk:

I'm remembering I promised to forget you now

I ain't proud of all the punches that I've thrown in the name of someone I no longer know

I don't like that when they threw me in the car

I gave your name as my emergency phone call

Even the cops thought you were wrong for hanging up

I’d die for you

The dial tone is all I have

I beg you, sir, just let me call

Let's wait I swear she'll call me back

Son, are you a danger to yourself?

Son, why do you do this to yourself?

Paul Revere:

This place had a heartbeat in its day

The boys are drunk

But it just ain't that simple, it never was

One day I'm gonna cut it clear

I’m not from around here

I'll leave before the road crew's out

Folks just disappear

If I could leave, I would've already left

No Complaints:

Thought I had something

That's the same as having something

I'd get mad at nothing

Blame my dad for something

I'd pull no punches

Thought I was raised better

Hope the skin heals where the pain enters

I set a time, then I showed up

Now the weight of the world ain't so bad

I filled the hole in my head with prescription medication

Who am I to complain?

And now the pain's different

I can finally eat and I can fall asleep

Call Your Mom:

Oh, you’re spiraling again

Don't let this darkness fool you

All lights turned off can be turned on

I’ll drive all night

I’ll call your mom

If you could see yourself like this, you'd have never tried it

Oh dear, don't be discouraged

I've been exactly where you are

Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason

Don't wanna drive another mile wondering if you're breathing

Won’t you stay with me?

You’re Gonna Go Far:

This is normal conversation, babe, it's all fine

The college kids are getting so young, ain't they?

I got tired of the frat boys with the brights on

"This is good land" or at least it was

Say whatever you feel, be wherever you are

We're overdue for a revival

We spent so long just getting by

You told me you would make a difference

[storiesundercandlelight]

I jumped out of my bed when I saw you updated!! 🥹💕💖

The Geoffrey fic was amazing…! You’ve been well? Life is going oki?

I was kinda laughing the other day as I talked with a friend of new things we’ve been reading; and told her about u and was like “man, I miss them”. And whenever I got excited talking about books and then remembered some that disappointed me or were just plain I would said that again out of reflex; “man I miss them sm”

That’s my new “I should call them”. 🩵✨ You never disappoint, I’m so glad you’re alive and active!

I wasn’t into Geoffrey and after reading this I’m like that Kombucha girl video like “mmm nah, BUT lemme check twice just to be sure” 😭

Could I request something Jonathan xFem reader that begins with someone being super affected by voice/sounds/talking; taking things to something physical/NSFW? I’m super into Jonathan’s voice and accent; in gral all the VA’s did an amazing job!!

I’m super close to finishing the game now and DAMN they’re all (characters) so well made 🥹

Or just whatever you’d enjoy writing or been wanting to write for a while! I trust your amazing taste.

Take care of yourself and I hope you’re well and happy! Lots of hugs 💕🩷💕🩷✨!!!

There's Something In The Way You Speak

Here you go! I hope you love it! Jonathan's voice could definitely make us all go feral!! And Geoffrey is my best boy 🤣 I will make you love him!!

I haven't proof read this yet so I'm sorry for any mistakes! <3

Jonathan knew how easy it was to rile you up now, a small perk he was more than happy to take advantage of especially on a night like this. He'd hated social obligations before being changed into an Ekon, he still hated them. He couldn't even eat or drink to distract himself from the dull conversations he was pulled into.

Damn Edgar for forcing him to come to this thing. He knew it was all about keeping up appearances. The hospital requires funding Jonathan, these men fund us. So make them happy and feel like they are needed, because they bloody well are. The only perk to tonight? Having you by his side, dressed so finely. The curve of your neckline was bordering scandalous for this day and age, more than one set of eyes had landed on you tonight, much to Jonathan's annoyance.

But, as Jonathan had recently been made aware of, he had a little weapon to use against you. The memory made him smirk, your cheeks had grown so red after your all but blurted out the effects his voice had on you. I don't know, something about the tone and just the way you say things....just forget I said it alright?

He definitely would not be forgetting you said it, how could he just stand by and let quite possibly his best advantage over you go to waste. Before it was always Jonathan falling head over heels whenever you beckoned, how easily you made him want you, how simple it always was to make him lust after you. Oh how the tables have turned.

Jonathan moved closer to you, your body leaning delicately against one of the pillars adorning the room. It took a slight amount of bending to bring his lips right beside your ear before he whispered, nice a deep. "You know, I've been thinking about all of the doors in this hall. Where they lead to, which of them will be the one I'll pull you through, the one where I'll ravish you across whatever surface we find"

Your head turned towards him, eyebrows lifted and eyes wide in surprise. "Behave Dr.Reid" you whispered back.

"I don't want to behave, I want to fuck you" Jonathan felt your body tense beside him but this time he wasn't told off, you simply stared straight ahead, eyes flicking over the couples dancing or socialising. "Don't you want to?" His lips were all but pressing against your ears now, the soft tickle of his breath had you shivering.

"What I want is for you to behave" You quipped back, but Jonathan saw the redness growing on your cheeks, he was fairly curtained he'd never used that sort of language around you before....why wasn't it working? Jonathan straightened up, the glass of whiskey - still as full as when Edgar handed it to him- was the only thing he could use to occupy his hands as he tried to think of what else he could say to you.

Two - or was it three?- tedious conversations with men you had no desire to listen to, had come and gone since Jonathan's attempt to scandalise your thoughts. You wouldn't let him know it but your entire body had flashed hot and cold at his words. The idea of him whisking you away to have his way with you hadn't left your mind since he'd put the thoughts there.

Jonathan all but pouted his way through the conversations, waiting impatiently for them to end so he could try his luck again. He didn't have any ideas as far as what to exactly say to you, filthy talk wasn't exactly in his list of strengths, but the thrill of trying to rile you up was enough to keep him excited to try.

You had somehow managed to slip away from the small group that had Jonathan cornered, his eyes searched for you across the room, as the men in front of him continued their dull conversation. There you are. You had clearly just come from the bar, a tall glass in hand as you let your eyes wander over the room, stopping on the paintings along the walls. Truth be told Jonathan would feel happy enough to simply watch you from a distance, your beauty was always something that had him catching his breath each time he looked at you.

You felt Jonathan behind you before you heard him speak. "You abandoned me" He spoke low again, his lips not as close as before but close enough to have the hairs on the back of your neck prick up.

"You seemed to be doing alright"

"I don't appreciating you playing so hard to get...especially given how much effort I'm putting in to trying not to get hard while looking at you" Lord above this man would be the death of you, you turned your head towards him, catching him playing innocent as he met your. gaze.

"Have you gone mad?" Of all the time for Jonathan to be trying his new found technique to get you in the mood, now was certainly not the time! But the boyish smirk that pulled at his lips made you think that no matter where you happened to be at this moment, nothing was going to stop him.

"I think that one" Jonathan nodded his head towards a door positioned near the back of the room, out of the many doors that lined the walls between painting in the room, this one was likely the easiest to take and not be seen. "Given that it isn't locked of course, but I have a good feeling"

"You can't just wander around!" You whispered back to him. "One, people will notice you've gone-"

"After a while"

"And two, we can't just walk into whatever room we please, certainly not to do what you have in mind! What if someone catches us?"

"What if the sky falls on our heads? What if Priwen storms in and burns me at the stake? What if's are too boring for tonight my dear, and I have had the last three hours of nothing but boring so... shall we?"

Before you could even argue Jonathan had gripped your wrist and walked towards the door with much more confidence than you could muster. The creeping paranoia that someone would see you both sneaking away was almost enough to have you fighting against his pull. But before you knew it Jonathan had turned the knob on the door and pushed you both through it.

The hallways was dark, lit only by the moon light that came in through the windows on one side of the space, more doors lined the walls on the other side. "See? if it was in use tonight they would have lit it up" Jonathan walked forward leaving you by the doors you'd just come through. The first door he tried was locked, with a purse of his lips he moved onto the next one. "Hmm, a linen closet?" Again he moved onto the next, seemingly unhappy with this one also.

"Jonathan..."

"Perfect!" He motioned you over with a flick of his hand, only allowing you to get so close before pulling you once more through a door and into what looked like a small - very small - laundry room. Shelves covered one side of the room, an assortment of sheets and towels were folded neatly in stacks.

"Perfect? Oh lord if this is what you're calling perfect right now then you must have slipped a few marbles out, are you sure you're feeling alright?" Jonathan pulled the door closed quietly before reaching for a wooden chair sat off to the right of the room (presumably used when the servants were polishing or sewing) and fitting it under the handle, effectively locking you both in, and more importantly locking people out.

"There!" Jonathan turned to you, the boyish grin back. He gripped you by the hips moving you slowly backwards until you bumped into the counter top lining the other half of the room. You felt weightless for a moment as Jonathan lifted you onto the counter, his hands quickly pushing up your dress enough for his to stand between your thighs. "This is much better" His voice depended as he leaned forward, pressing his lips for your neck and trailing kisses up towards your jaw. "Do you know how difficult it has been for me tonight to see you dressed this way?"

Not that you imagined he wanted answer, but you wouldn't have been able to speak even if he had. Your mind was entirely too focused on the way Jonathan's hands travelled up your thighs, pushing under the bunched up fabric of your dress. "So many men were looking at you... I had a mind to let the beast take over....the walls would have looked better red"

You let yourself shiver fully, the idea of Jonathan being enraged at other men looking at you had you reaching out behind you, looking for support to keep you upright as he continued to lean over you. You felt the most subtle scrap of his fangs against your neck before he spoke again. "Will you let me have you? God I want you"

His voice grew deeper as lust quickly consumed him, his grip tightening on you as he lifted you again, just high enough to quickly slip your underwear down your legs. You couldn't even help yourself now as your hands slipped around the back of Jonathan's neck, pulling him in for a kiss that was entirely too needy and downright messy as you both started grabbing at each other. Your hands clashed with Jonathans as you both reached for his belt, but with a chuckle you both managed to free him, already so firm and ready.

Jonathan pulled you closer to the edge of the counter and by doing so, closer to him. "If we get caught-"

"Shh we won't" Jonathan nipped playfully at your bottom lip before lining himself up and pushing into slowly, his eyes closing as you enveloped him. "Christ you feel good" Hearing Jonathan's words of praise in this setting was new to you, he was far too much of a gentleman to whisper filth into your ear. But apparently those days were over.

Your gentle moans filled the small space as Jonathan moved against you, whispering and groaning against your neck, letting his fangs nip you in-between words. God knows if you weren't at a party you would tell him to bite down, to drink as he took you. It was almost as if Jonathan had the same thought as a broken whine tore out of him and his hips began moving faster.

You kept one arm behind you, using both the wall and counter top for support while the other pulled Jonathan closer to you, your lips finding his for another messy kiss. You knew it couldn't last forever but you desperately wanted it to, especially when Jonathan was being as vocal as he was.

He wasn't even sure what he was saying now, he'd lost the sense to form full sentences when you started rocking back against him, meeting his thrusts, your hand in his hair gripping and pulling him closer to deepen your already wild kiss. But Jonathan did know you were both so close, he could feel how tight you'd become around him, your face moved to press against his shoulder as you tried to conceal the moans that were falling from your lips.

You came with a shuddering gasp, you grip on each other tightening as Jonathan followed. It was only a few moments of you both regaining your senses before you pulled apart. Your eyes looked over Jonathan and a small smirk pulled at your lips at the sight of him, his hair messed and falling out of place, his tie and shirt was pulled and wrinkled but his fangs were what had your eyes lingering, they were extended, just visible as he looked back at you.

"You look a sight" Jonathan chuckled before righting himself and his clothes as best as he could, pushing his hair back with his hand before reaching forward to help you down from the counter. You started straightening yourself up as Jonathan bent down to retrieve your underwear from the floor. You reached for them but he pulled them back out of reach. Jonathan watched as confusion washed over your face before quickly tugging the fabric into his pocket.

"You cannot be serious"

Jonathan simply shrugged. "You wouldn't need them for long anyway" You huffed a disbelieving laugh at the man before you as he stood smugly by the door about to remove the chair he'd used to lock the door.

"Jonathan?" You both froze. Edgar. He didn't shout but he definitely spoke loudly enough for you both to hear him and be sure of who it was. Your eyes snapped to Jonathan, a clear I told you so, written all over your face.

Jonathan couldn't help it, he started smiling, and then giggling, covering his mouth with his hand so that Edgar - who was walking closer and closer to the door that hid you - wouldn't hear. You couldn't believe this, you couldn't believe him.

It took a few moments and a brief amount of panic when Edgar tried to the barricaded door before his footsteps receded down the hall. and then another few moments before either of you felt safe enough to crack open the door to see if the coast was clear. "See? I told you we'd be fine"

"Jonathan he will know as soon as he takes a look at us what we've been doing!"

"So you're telling me we should sneak out of one of the windows and go home? Excellent idea" You shook your head but you couldn't help the smile that grew on your face as you watched Jonathan check every single window on the way back down the hall to the party, just in case you could plot another great escape.

[jerzwriter]

Stress Reduction

Thank you to Anonymous for this 3-word ask: Tobias, Casey, Labcoat. I have no idea where you wanted me to go with it, but damn, my mind automatically went smutty. lol Not a bad thing because I haven't written smut in a while, and this was a fun little foray back into it. I hope you enjoy this! Thank you!

Book: Open Heart (Book 3 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Words: 1,400 Rating: Explicit Warning: Sexual content - it's not super, super explicit, but it's explicit enough - so, yeah. Warning. lol Summary: It's been a long, difficult day at work, and Casey desperately needs a little break. Tobias doesn't get the message at first, but he quickly comes around. A/N: @choicesjanuary2024 Day 14 - Comfort

He probably would have griped about how late it was if he had any idea of the time. Boston had gone dark around him as he sat in his office, now illuminated solely by his desk lamp, but Tobias had been too busy to notice. If his caseload wasn’t enough, the amount of paperwork insurance companies required just to keep his patients alive... he sat back for the first time in hours, rubbing his eyes with frustration... then quickly returned to his work. After all, he wanted to get home sometime today.

A bit later, a knock on the door startled him, but not enough to take his attention away from what he was doing.

“It’s open,” he yelled, not looking to see who had stepped in.

“Hey,” Casey smiled, leaning on the closed door behind her, a mix of exasperation and exhaustion intermingled on her face. But Tobias’s face brightened the moment he heard her voice. If there was one thing that could pull him away, she was it.

“Hey, yourself,” he smiled, finally looking at the clock. “Jesus, how did it get this late! I’ve been so busy, and I’ve barely seen you today.”

“I know,” she said, collapsing into the chair before his desk. “It’s been insane. They’re short staffed in the ER, so on top of our workload, I’ve been down there half the day.”

“Well, that sucks. But I’d kill to be in the ER. Between that and filling out all these precerts and appeals, I’d take the ER any day.”

“Yeah, at least there’s action there,” she smiled.

“Any chance you’ll be wrapping up soon?”

“Not as soon as I’d like,” she sighed. “I’m waiting on results for a few patients, and I’d like to stay until I have them in hand.”

“Well, you’re free to hang out here with me until they do,” he replied, a tired smile on his lips as he turned back to his computer.

“I’m glad you said that because... I need a favor.”

“Sure... what do you need a consult?” he asked.

“Not exactly...”

“Want me to pick up some of your DT cases so you can return to the ER?”

“No. Not at all. I’ve got that under control.”

“Then, what do you need?” He asked, unaware of the bemused look on Casey’s face as he continued to focus on his laptop. Casey flipped it closed and met his stunned expression with a coquettish grin.

“Dr. Carrick, what’s happened to you? There was a time when saying I needed a favor would have led to all sorts of suggestive innuendo...now... this?”

That earned a genuine smile, and his old swagger returned. Leaning back in his chair, he swiveled slowly from side to side. “Have I mentioned it’s been a long day? This appallingly appropriate behavior thing is completely out of character for me.”

“Well, thank God for that," she laughed.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, what would you like me to do for you?”

“Tension,” she sighed. “I am so tense... and I need... a release.”

“Oh,” he smirked, a far too pleased look on his face. “So... a neck rub? Shoulder rub, perhaps... do you think that would help.”

Casey leaned over the desk, licking her lips as she looked up at him with a seductive gaze. “That... would be a good... start.”

Tobias quickly cornered his desk, and Casey eagerly took his extended hand and rose to her feet. In a motion so smooth, she barely knew it occurred, he spun her around. His chest rested firmly against her back as he brushed her hair to the side; shivers went down her spine as he placed a tender kiss on her freshly exposed skin. Those shivers multiplied when his strong hands began kneading the tense muscles in her shoulders. Surrendering to the bliss his touch provided, Casey melted against him as a low groan escaped her.

“You like that, sweetheart,” he breathed in her ear, tugging her earlobe between his teeth before continuing. “Is this helping at all?”

“It’s... it’s a start,” she gasped, heat rising within her as she felt his hands on her waist.

“Well, if I’m going to provide you with expert care, I’ll need to rid you of this lab coat.”

With that, the coat fell to the floor beside Casey’s feet, at least for a moment, for Tobias spun her around once more, quickly lifting her onto his desk. She hadn’t a moment to reply as his lips consumed hers, his hands deftly unbuttoning her silk blouse. His hands already on her breasts, his thumbs taunting her nipples through the delicate lace of her bra.

“Is this better?”  

Words were hard to come by, but Casey wasn't about to let him win this easily. With every nerve in her body pulsating and her mind turning to mush, she pushed through to reply.

“You... you’re getting there,” she said with an alluring gaze that set him aflame.

An animalistic groan rumbled deep in his chest, reverberating against Casey's breasts as he passionately kissed her, one hand entangled in her long, blonde hair, pulling her closer to him, the other rolling her nipple between his fingers as he eeked out her ecstasy. Her head fell back, and his steaming kisses moved to her neck, her chest... his hand had moved lower, lifting her skirt and pushing her underpants to the side. Each one of Casey's whimpers a symphony to his ears as his fingers glide through her soaked folds. He gently bit down on her nipple as he nimbly moved inside her. She lifted her hand to her mouth to cover a scream.

“I’ll take it this is better, then?" He teased, his pride growing by the moment as he took in her trembling body.

Attempting to keep her composure, she lifted her head and looked him in the eye.

“I’ll be better when you’re inside me,” she mewled.

Tobias raised a brow, his thumb circling her clit as his index and middle fingers moved in and out of her with ease.

“What,” he taunted. “This isn’t enough for you?”

Casey was done playing. Grabbing his lab coat's lapels, she pulled him against her, her lips slamming into his with a bruising kiss. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants with ease, she smiled when she felt them drop to his ankles.

Breathlessly pulling away, it was now her turn to tease him. “You know what I want, Dr. Carrick.”

Taking his erect cock in her hand seemed to immobilize him. She gruffly stoked him, base to tip, before moving him against her wet core.

"You still with me?" She smiled mischievously as he looked at her with his familiar smirk.

“This will have to be a quickie."

“I have full faith that we can make that do. Now, Tobias. Now, get to work!"

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, rendering her silent as he slammed inside her.

They both surrendered, moaning with relief as he moved inside her, her hips bucking off the desk to meet his every thrust.

“Did you lock the door,” he half chuckled, eyes screwed shut in ecstasy.

“Too late now,” she began to laugh, but word escaped her when his hand slipped between them, roughly toying with her swollen clit.

Casey's wails filled the room. "Oh, God, that’s just....”

“That’s just what,” he demanded, doubling his pace; the papers he had worked so diligently on all evening fell to the floor with each violent thrust.

“It’s just...” she puffed, "It’s just...”

“Just?”

If Tobias wanted an answer, he'd have to settle for her body's reply because her words were completely lost. Her back arched off the desk, greedily pushing against him to maximize her pleasure. Eyes screwed shut, the room seemed awash in an amber glow as she bit into his shoulder to stop herself from screaming.

Every muscle in Tobias's body tensed as beads of sweat dripped off him. The feel of her teeth biting his flesh and her body clenching tight around his throbbing cock put him over the edge. A loud curse escaped him as he exploded inside her, his body thrashing as he found his release.

His weight was heavy on top of her as he tried to catch his breath, and she lovingly stroked the back of his head, placing small kisses on his neck. She felt him smile against her when she began to giggle.

“What are you giggling about?"

“I'm just thinking I’ll have to leave you a five-star review, doctor.  Your stress reduction techniques are unparalleled.  Of course, they seem to have helped you as much as they have me, but that's beside the point.”

Tobias rose to his elbows, a playful grin on his lips.

“I’m happy to practice this technique anytime you need me, darling."

"If I had you do that, we'd never get any work done."

After a quick kiss, they helped each other get dressed... rumpled lab coats and all.

“Now go get those lab results, and let’s get the hell home," he ordered. "Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

"Oh, yes, you are," she smiled, garnering a bewildered stare.

"Oh, really?"

"Mmm hmm," she nodded. "When we get home, I'm going to use my special stress reduction techniques on you."

Tobias nodded with delight. "Then go get those labs because I can't wait to let you begin."

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