#she's not going to have an eating disorder but i want to tag this with trigger warnings just in case

[matchalovertrait]

What is a chef to do when she loses her appetite due to sadness?

[mom-friendtm]

period blues

[roboraindrop]

I slept for 12 hours and I am So Tired still. I don't know how I'm supposed to go home and get to work tomorrow knowing that this is happening back home.

[zippers]

wish i could gain weight without eating 😭😭😭 like a sims slider i just wanna gain like 15 pounds in 15 seconds is that too much to ask of my body?!?! apparently

[blueheartedwolf]

I wish I could find a doctor that wants to find out what’s actually wrong with me instead of recommending prescriptions to address the symptoms. I’m so tired of being recommended ibuprofen for debilitating pain. Tired of relaying my medical history to a new doctor and getting the same furrowed brow and shrugging shoulders I get every time. Tired of having so-called medical professionals ask why I need a cane if I’m able to walk down their clinic hallway without it. When will someone fucking help me?

[pinkys-plan]

Getting drunk because sober me thinks he doesn’t need dinner but drunk me knows that nutrition is important and insecurities can suck my cock actually. Literally just feed urself when you need to, I promise it doesn’t make u bad or unworthy. Eat those chicken nuggets. Fuck it, I’m gonna have a salad too. Chicken nugget salad. Some vegetables, some chicken nuggets. A balanced diet. Probably. Who cares. Don’t let your insecurities stop you eating a meal PLEASE 💕💕

[gators-aid]

decode (pt. 3) - toji f. x reader

masterlist

part two | part four

previously titled: leave us

you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.

tags: fem!reader, cheating, underage (mentions they have sex, but nothing explict, toji and reader are high school freshmen), mentioned eating disorder (not really a disorder, reader just forgets to eat, tag is just in case), mention of domestic abuse (not between toji & reader), americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(

wc: 3.4k

You had met Toji in your first year of high school at some house party. Some sophomore that Utahime knew was throwing it, giving the two of you an in. 

You and Utahime had been dancing on the dude’s couch, bottles in hand. You had never really drank before, but you made sure to keep yourself aware enough to get the two of you home by the end of the night. Your house was a fifteen minute walk from here, and your plan was to sneak the two of you through your window before three. 

That’s when you saw him. He was leaning against the wall talking to some girl. Just by his looks, you thought he might have been a couple years above you. He was tall, taller than most guys in the house, and definitely more muscular. You were immediately attracted, Utahime giggled at you once she saw where you were looking. “You should go talk to him!” She slurred, still moving to the sound of the music with you. 

“Seems like he’s got his hands busy.” You whisper-yelled over the music. He had them all over that girl.

“Utahime!” You heard from below the two of you. Hakari, the guy whose house this was (and your future coworker), held on to her hand as she almost stumbled over to look down at him. “We’re gonna play seven minutes in heaven! Y’all wanna come?” 

“That’s fucking corny!” Utahime giggled, “Let’s go, Y/N!” The two of you followed in a straight line behind Hakari to a relatively empty, but still extremely loud hallway. You all sat down in a circle with a group of students you didn’t recognize. 

“Hey, you guys weren’t gonna start the fun without us, right?” You hear from behind you. It’s the guy from earlier. He pushes his hair (you think it's black, but can’t tell from the lighting) back and takes a swig of a beer bottle. The girl from earlier is with him, along with another guy you didn’t recognize. 

“Toji, let us use that bottle. Hakari broke the other one!” One guy yells over the music. “Thought this was seven minutes in heaven,” A girl with stark white hair begins, “You don’t need a bottle for that game.” 

“Too much work to write everyone’s names down, there’s a bunch of freshmen here. I don’t know them.” Hakari responds. 

“Scoot over!” The tall guy, Toji, yells at you over the music, and you do. Allowing his group of three to squeeze in next to you. Utahime giggles and leans over your lap to address him. “Hey!” She yells, almost falling over your lap. “What’s your name? My friend Y/N-”

“I’ll go first!” you yell, hoping to silence her before she can say anything embarrassing.

“Wheeeew look at the brave young freshman!” Hakari yells. “Hey, what’s your name again?” You ignore him and spin the bottle. 'Damn,' you think, 'I’m actually going to have to go into a closet with someone after this.' You just wanted to interrupt Utahime. 

It lands on some guy you don't recognize.

“Wee woo wee woo!” Hakari yells, mocking a police siren. “New rule, freshman and senior pairings will not be allowed! Go again!” he yells at you. The group bursts out laughing as you grab the bottle to spin again. 

The bottle spins and spins until it lands on… the girl that Toji was making out with earlier. She makes a face and looks at you. “I’m not into girls, sorry!” She yells. 

“I am!” Utahime announces to the group. 

“What the hell, Takako, you have such a dirty mind!” Hakari says. You can feel Toji eyeing you. It’s slightly unsettling. “Seven minutes in heaven does not imply romantic or sexual advances!” 

She scoffs, “Then why didn’t you let her go in there with Kenjaku?” You’re doing everything you can to avoid Toji’s gaze. Seriously, what was this dude’s problem? Was there something on your face? Did your makeup come off to reveal the big ass pimple on your cheek? Shit, you knew you should’ve used more setting spray.

“Because it’s my duty to protect the young women attending my party, Takako! Better safe than sorry.” 

Suddenly, you see a hand go down to the bottle and tilt it slightly. It’s Toji, and he’s pointed the bottle directly at himself. “Well, would you look at that! Seems like the bottle has mysteriously landed on me and not Takako!” He yells over the music. 

You take this time to finally look him in the face. From this close, you notice the scar on the side of his lip, his piercing green eyes. 

“But…” you say, confused, “they said no seniors and freshmen.” 

The group bursts into laughter. “Don’t know if I should be offended or not.” He says. 

“He’s in our year, Y/N!” Utahime exclaims, “He’s in my algebra class, I couldn’t remember his name though…” 

“Wait, this isn’t how it works!” Takako says, panicked. Now that you’ve already looked at Toji, you can see her arm locked into his, she’s yelling into the group’s circle. 

“The bottle lands where it lands!” Toji says, throwing his arms up. “Come on, mama,” he starts, untangling from Takako. “We got seven minutes.”

He grabs your arm and leads you to the hall closet. You can hear whoops and whistles from behind you, but you don’t know if it’s from your small group or from the rest of the party goers. 

He turns the light on, and the two of you push back winter coats to make room in the closet. He closes the door behind the two of you. For a moment he’s quiet. He just looks at you. “You’re really pretty.” He says, leaning against the door, a little too cockily for a high school freshman. 

“Thanks.” You say quietly. It’s a little less loud in the closet, music muffled by the bundle of winter coats. “Is um.. Is Takako your girlfriend or something?”

He laughs, “Why do you ask?” 

“Because it’s pretty fucked up if you took me in here with her sitting right out there.” 

He smiles. “Nah.” He says, leaning closer to you. “She’s not.” 

You can feel his breath on your face, and smell his cologne from here. It’s a little strong, you can smell the beer in his breath too. “She’s into you though,” you say. He leans closer and you put your hand gently on his chest. Your lips are millimeters apart. “That was kinda mean,” He laughs again. “To be really, really honest, I don’t give a fuck about her.” 

“That's really mean.” You respond, and suddenly your lips are on each other. This isn’t your first kiss, but Toji makes it feel like it is. You two grasp onto each other desperately, hold onto each other like you’ve known each other for years, like he’s a long lost love. 

It doesn’t escalate from there, you two just kiss and kiss and kiss. 

You don’t notice how long it’s been until you hear a knock on the door. Toji pulls away from your face and rests his forehead on yours. “Damn.” He says, licking his lips. 

That night, Toji had offered to drive you and Utahime home. You had spent the last couple hours at the party together, you continued drinking while Toji refrained, wanting to drive you home. 

He had helped you sneak Utahime into your bedroom. In your time spent with Toji, you hadn’t noticed her drinking more and more, so by the time you got her into Toji’s car, she was passed out cold. 

You had held Utahime in your arms as Toji climbed into your window and pulled her through. You climbed in after. 

“Thank you so much.” You said to him as the two of you lay her in your bed. “You’re seriously a life saver.” 

“It’s no problem, anything for a pretty lady like you.” You rolled your eyes. 

He climbed back out your window, turning around to face you one more time before you left. You lent onto your window sill and smiled at him. “I’ll see you on Monday?” you asked. He smiled back. “I’ll see you then.” He lent up and kissed you on the lips once more before turning back around and walking to his truck. 

You did see him on Monday. And almost every Monday after. 

You and Toji became incredibly close incredibly fast. Toji clung to you for affection, you clung to him for attention. You sat together at lunch everyday. He’d buy you Cokes from the overpriced vending machine and you’d invite him into your bedroom everytime it got to be too much at home. You guys never officially started dating, it just seemed like it happened overnight. 

He never came over during the day. You were too nervous to tell your mother and he was too nervous to meet her. 

She didn’t know you even had a boyfriend until Toji cheated on you. Not the best introduction. You were working late at the diner, you often did on weekends to speed up the process of your college fund. It was Shoko who had told you. 

She, Geto, and Gojo had come to the diner after leaving a party. They were all clearly a little tipsy, so one of the older servers had passed them off onto you. “I’m not dealing with definitely-not-drunk teenagers at this time of night. I’m ready to go home.” 

“Oh my god! I know you! You’re Y/N! We’re in the same government class!” Geto slurred. You smiled at him. “How are you guys doing? You go to Hakari’s party?” You asked.

“Yeah! It was really fun, but Gojo’s curfew is at one so we gotta get him sobered up.” Geto supplied.

“Hey, Y/N, are you still with Toji? I see you too together alllllll the time at school.” Gojo slurred. You laughed. “Kind of.” You and Toji had gotten into an argument that afternoon. Toji was going to that same party, and you, having to work, couldn’t go with. Somehow, it turned into an argument about who does more for who. You weren’t broken up, and you weren’t on a break, but you were both certainly angry with each other. 

“Ohhhh what the fuck?” Gojo said, looking wide-eyed at his friends. They all looked between each other, clearly confused and talking to each other through their facial expressions. 

“Uhh, Y/N, can you just get us some waters, and can you get Gojo like an omelet or some shit?” Shoko says. “Uhh yeah! Of course!” 

“No mushrooms!” Gojo shouts as you walk away. You turn and give him a thumbs up. 

That whole night, you could feel the tension from the table. Like they all felt bad for you. Like they pitied you. After they paid the bill and Geto and Gojo walked out, Shoko called you over. “Hey, Y/N, you almost done working?” She asked. 

“Yeah, you guys were my last table for tonight. What’s up?” 

“Look,” she says, “I don’t know what’s up with you and Toji, it’s not my business, but I think you should probably know he and Takako were all over each other at Hakari’s tonight.” She looked into your eyes to gauge a reaction. 

Your heart had dropped. You could feel your fingertips tingling like you had lost all the blood in them. They felt lighter than the rest of your body. “Oh, uh, yeah it's not a big deal.” You say. You start to wring your hands on your waist apron. “Thanks for letting me know, though.” You attempt a smile at her. She looks at you with pity and concern, until you can almost visibly see her say ‘fuck it’ in her head. She leans in and gives you a hug. 

You vowed it not to be true, but Shoko had no reason to lie to you. Gojo and Geto had no reason to act so strange when you mentioned you’re still with Toji. Shoko bringing up Takako was not a coincidence. 

You squeeze her back and you can feel your breathing picking up. “T-Thank, um, Thank you.” you say. 

You didn’t call him when your shift was over for him to pick you up as usual, instead opting to take the bus route. You got home that night, thankful to see that your mother had already gone to sleep. You ignored the food she left for you in the fridge and went straight to the shower.

You didn’t cry until you got into bed, when you could smell his cologne on your pillow. You stayed like that for hours. Curled up, silently sobbing, until you heard a light knocking on your window. You knew who it was. The only person it could be, 

“Y/N?” He whispered through the window. He sounded panicked. You could hear the pane slide up and him climb in. 

“Oh, shit, thank god.” He whispered, climbing into your bed. His voice was shaking. “Hey, you awake, mama?”

You turned around to face him. “You had me scared, baby.” He said, moving your hair out of your face. “You never called after your shift. Just ‘cause you’re mad at me doesn’t mean I won’t come get you.”

“You fucked her, didn’t you?” You asked, your voice cracking.

“Huh?” 

“You. Fucked. Her. Didn’t. You?” 

His hand froze on your cheek. 

You sat up in your bed. “You fucked her, and then you wanted to come and see me after?” You asked, voice rising with each word. 

“Hey-”

“What?” You ask. You’re fully yelling now. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Y/N, stop yelling.” He warns. He stands up from the bed. You stand up and get in his face.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Toji!” You pushed his chest. He didn’t move an inch. “You don’t get to come in here, acting like you’re all worried about me! Acting like you give a fuck!” You were full on sobbing by now.

“Y/N-”

“What the hell is going on in here?” You hear your door swing open and whip around to see your mother standing at the door with a baseball bat in hand. 

Shit.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house? Get the hell out of here!” 

Toji books it out the window, looking at you one last time before leaving. 

“What the hell are you thinking, Y/N? You have a boy in here?” She yells at you. “You’re too young for this! Doing this under my roof, are you insane?” 

You just stand there staring at the floor. “Mom?” You ask, voice cracking. She sets the bat down by your door and rushes to your side. “Did he hurt you? Y/N? What did he do?” You cling onto the back of her shirt and cry into her neck. “Mom-” Is all you can get out before you’re violently shaking and you can feel your knees give out. 

It’s a week later when you see Toji again. Your mother had let you stay home from school for a day, and when you got back, Toji was nowhere to be found. 

Word got around school quickly. If it hadn’t been Shoko who told you, It could’ve been ten other people. Utahime and Saori, another girl you befriended, became your lunch buddies, taking Toji’s place. 

You didn’t want to seem as hurt as you felt, not with Takako grinning at you in the halls every time she saw you. 

He was at your window that night. You didn’t have work, and had taken the free time to catch up on some assignment you had missed. You heard a knock on your window and immediately tensed. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself when you heard the pane slide up. 

You hadn’t even thought about locking your window. Didn’t expect Toji to want anything to do with you. 

“I saw the light on." He explained, like it gave him the right to come in, "Can we talk?” He whispered, “and can you not yell?” You didn’t look up at him. He towered over you from where you sat at your desk. “Can’t promise you anything.” You said. You pretended to work on an algebra problem, but you couldn’t focus with him in the room. 

“Come with me to my truck then.” He pleads. You tap your pencil on the wooden desk and turn your head to look up at him. He looks a mess. Hair mussed like he hadn’t brushed it in days, clothes rumpled and stained. His right eye sports a fading black ring around it. 

You bite your lip. You refuse to show any concern, but you're too curious. You point your pencil at his eye, “What happened there?” He stares at you for a second.

“Can you come or not?” He asks. This would be a common occurrence throughout the rest of your relationship. Toji showing up with a new bruise and brushing you off when you question it.

“Can you answer my question?” You taunt back. 

“Please, Y/N.” 

You sigh and throw your pencil down on the desk. “I’m doing homework, Toji.” You respond. 

“Please.” He begs. 

You know you shouldn’t. You and your mother had had a lengthy conversation just this morning. “You need to stay away from boys like him.” she said as she moved around the kitchen to prepare you breakfast. This hadn’t been a common occurrence until she noticed you had stopped eating. It wasn’t intentional, you just didn’t have the energy for it anymore. “They don’t do anything but lead you down a path you don’t want to go down, Y/N.” She says, placing a plate of eggs and toast in front of you. “He’s showing you who he is right now. Believe him.” 

You contemplated it. You knew, deep down, that you shouldn’t. Knew you should’ve called for your mom the second he tapped on your window. But you didn’t. 

“Okay.” 

The two of you crawled out of your window and walked a few houses down to Toji’s truck, parked in an abandoned parking lot. The two of you hop in at the same time. You had suddenly wished you grabbed your coat. It wasn’t necessarily cold, you just wanted something to comfort you. 

“I fucked up.” There it is. His voice, even if he’s saying something incredibly delusional and ridiculous, that is your comfort. He turns in his seat to face you. You do the same, your foot coming up to rest in the seat. 

“I really, really fucked up.” 

“So what’s your excuse?” You ask. You know it’s a bit hurtful. That was a little intentional.

“I just.. I don’t have one.” 

You think about that for a second. “Sooo…” you begin with a laugh, suddenly ten times more bitter than before. “You had sex with another girl… just because?” You ask.

He has nothing to say to that. 

“What am I to you, Toji?” 

He looks at you for a second like he’s pondering. Trying to put it into words, or maybe trying to come up with something. You didn’t know. 

“Everything.” He says, finally.

You smile. It’s a nasty, bitter smile. “That so?” You ask. “I’d hate to see how you treat someone you hate. Gotta be pretty bad.”

“Baby..”

“I’m sorry if I’m misunderstanding you here.” You say, you put your foot back onto the floor of his truck. “You brought me out here, interrupted me, mind you, to what? Tell me that you cheated on me because you felt like it?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this angry in your life. You get out of the car. Not waiting for a response. You slam the door, briskly walking back home. 

“Y/N! Come the fuck on!” You can hear him slamming the door and following you. “Don’t walk out here by yourself.” He’s being dramatic. Your house is literally within your field of vision. You can hear his feet rushing to catch up to you. You turn around and point your finger at his chest. “Leave me the fuck alone.” You say with as much conviction as you can muster. 

He does. 

When you get back home, you realize you had left your phone on your desk next to your abandoned algebra homework. You have a message from Utahime waiting for you. When you open your flip phone up, you read

hime <3: wanna go 2 hakari’s w me this fri?

Suddenly you have an idea. Make him hurt like you did. Maybe a little worse, if he cared about you at all, that is. Deep down you knew he did. Even if only a little. 

you: ofc :)

longer chapter for tonight! i'm having fun writing this! thank you for the support!

i changed the name to decode because i was listening to it while writing this chapter and it was a little bit too perfect. everybody say thank you hayley williams.

other songs i listened to while writing include

breaking benjamin - diary of jane

foo fighters - everlong

bts (suga) - trivia: seesaw

paramore - all i wanted

i feel like im on drugs rn

tag list, comment to be added

@mechalily @nialiuwanderlust @xo-evangeline @ilovebattinson @cherrypieyourface @amaiyasha @erensslut

[shadowxamyweek]

What The Fuck Do You Mean They Gave Amy Rose an Eating Disorder

Alright. I said I’d talk about why I think Amy has an eating disorder, and so here I am, ready to throw down.

Disclaimer! 

Let me explicitly say- there’s nothing wrong with exercise and there’s nothing wrong with going on a diet. Not intrinsically, anyway. If you’re being smart and healthy about it, you’ve got good people supporting you or you’ve got your own good mental supports to make sure you’re not hurting yourself, that’s awesome. I am not saying these things are evil. What I am saying is there exists a very dark and obsessive undercurrent to *any* sort of health choice due to cultural expectations that, if a person is not careful about, they can get sucked into.  

Trigger warnings!

This is very 'Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.' We're gonna be talking about eating disorders and self harm. It's right here on the tin. If you don't think you're gonna be okay reading this, then don't. I want you to be safe. I believe I've tagged this appropriately, but if I've missed something, please let me know.

What even is an eating disorder? 

Broadly speaking, it is any behavioral condition characterized by abnormal eating habits. Some eating disorders stem from physical difficulty with eating that becomes psychological, while others originate due to psychological issues themselves. There are eating disorders that occur because people just wish to be in control of something, those that originate due to side effects of medication, those that occur due to side effects of other psychological conditions like anxiety or depression. 

This is to say- not all eating disorders are due to an obsession with body image. 

However, it cannot be understated just how many people develop an eating disorder because they are obsessed with body image. 

I am of the opinion Amy falls into the latter category, that she is obsessed with body image and, due to that, has an eating disorder.

So what’s going on with Amy? 

Let’s look at Sonic Battle (2003). It’s a PVP fighting game for the Game Boy Advance, picking up the plot directly after Sonic Heros and introducing us to Ermel (who would die and come back as Germel). Much like the previous games, you would have a singular plot that was divided into sections. We will be focusing on Amy and Cream’s chapters within the story. 

Amy Rose (X)

Cream (X)

Battle is what introduces us to Amy’s boxercising. Originally, she started it to get stronger, Cream citing Amy’s desire to keep Ermel safe after briefly getting kidnapped. However, once she realizes she can lose weight via this method, she becomes obsessed. Cream talks about it, seeming visibly uncomfortable with Amy’s fixation on losing weight, but we don’t really get much in the way of details until we actually fight Amy and see this weightloss obsession in action. 

In the Amy chapter of the story, she takes Ermel back to her apartment to train. They set a goal of 5 KOs, then 10. Amy feels faint, citing lightheadedness. Ermel leaves her alone in her apartment.

The next time you see her, only a few moments later, Cream is there. Turns out Amy was so lightheaded she had to go for a liedown. Cream says she’s worried about Amy. Specifically, she says she’s ‘burnt out,’ from overworking herself. Amy promptly comes back from her short break, stumbling into the room, to which Cream exclaims they can’t keep going because Amy can’t walk straight. Amy tells Cream she’s fine, and proceeds to start another goal of 10 KOs.

After that, Amy wants to keep working out, but she’s reaching her limit. She’s unable to speak more than a word or two without gasping for air. Insisting she can keep exercising, she tries to excuse herself to ‘change tactics’. When Cream follows her, it’s revealed that Amy’s been wearing excessively heavy weights on her arms and legs during this entire training spree.   

Amy says to go for another goal of 10 KOs. Cream, visibly upset, says that Amy has lost her focus on training. Still, you fight her anyway.

After this, Amy collapses. 

She is able to pull herself together after a second, rushing off with Ermel to keep fighting in search of the Chaos Emeralds. Cream seems relieved that Amy’s alright, saying, ‘she’s the strongest woman I know.’ 

The relief does not last long. After you finish Amy’s chapter, you switch to Cream’s. It opens up post boxcercise with Amy congratulating Ermel on getting strong. Cream noticeably stays very quiet during the exchange. 

Then, Amy asks, ‘how much did I lose today?’ 

Ermel tells her that she’s burned 1000 calories during their workout session. If she wants, she can lose a kilo/2 pounds-ish per three days if she is able to keep this up, but she will have to eat only 700 calories a day max and drink 4 liters/ 1 gallon-ish of water a day. Amy gets very excited. She also says she’s going to purchase some ‘super diet-machine.’ to further her progress. She thanks Ermel for helping her get closer to her goal. 

After a bit of a back and forth, Cream says to Ermel that Amy is really getting into this dieting. When Ermel asks, ‘Is getting thin good?’ Cream explains that Amy wants to be thinner so that Sonic might like her back. Ermel, understandably, doesn’t get it. Cream replies that, sometimes, a person will do anything for someone they love. Ermel stays silent, and Cream says that one day, they may eventually understand. 

(I swear there’s an additional dialog option if you go back to Amy’s place to talk to her where Ermel suggests she eat nothing but lettuce leaves, but I have misplaced my own copy of the game and cannot verify this. As such, I am not going to use it as evidence, but I do ask that if anyone DOES have the game, fact-check me on this place. I’d like to know if my memory is correct or if this is just a fabrication due to… everything mentioned above.) 

So okay, that’s the beats of the story. Now let’s talk about dangerous exercise and diet culture:

Exercise and Eating Disorders

Boxercise feels like a direct parallel to stuff like Jazzercise (60s-80s) or Zumba (00s-10s), which is just normal exercise with a twist of some sort that make it palatable for mass engagement/marketing. These different fun and exciting methods (and they can be- they can be fun- I’m not even gonna lie.) of workout were often sold as methods of both gaining strength and losing weight, but the losing weight often becomes their focus. This game even calls out the ‘this will make me stronger’ to ‘this will make me thin and desirable’ mental pipeline that can happen in the culture surrounding these sorts of exercise methods, unfortunately fostered despite whatever intentions their creators or individualized mentors had. There is nothing wrong with any of these styles of exercise. However, overexercise can be a hallmark of an eating disorder, and a culture of obsession that can surround fad exercises promoting extreme weightloss is dangerous. (X) (X)

It’s not new. The culture around these fad exercise methods might create a special sort of vortex, but look closely, and you'll likely pick up a few people with the same mindset at any old gym. ‘If I just keep pushing, if I just keep going, if I ignore the pain, I’ll be who I want to be.’ That’s how people get permanent injury, from Jannet going way too hard at pilates to Keith pushing far too much weight. 

Speaking of weights- We are lead to believe that Amy has been wearing weights this entire time. I don’t just mean for the fight mentioned above. Think about it- she takes them off during that massive workout/fight, but when did she put them on? We don’t see it. We’ve been with her nearly the entire time. This reads to me that she has had them on the entire day, not just for her exercising. 

It should be noted that wearing weights in this manner for an extended period of time can lead to damage (X) . As an aside, I have found no studies on the matter, but at least half of the people I know who have also had an eating disorder at one point or another intentionally weighed themselves down in some manner thinking they could burn more calories by doing whatever it was they were doing. This includes wearing training weights all the time, overfilling backpacks and carrying them around, and other things.

It’s not the exercise that is bad, it’s not the method that is bad, it’s not most of the community that is bad, but there is (and has always been, and will always be, unfortunately) a portion of it with this dangerous mindset that a person can get sucked into if they are not careful.

Due to the evidence above, it seems clear to me that Amy has gotten sucked into this mindset. 

That’s just a part of it though. The restricted eating is where it gets really solidified for me. 

Diet Culture and Eating Disorders

Now, obviously I’m going to be going off of human numbers, so if you wish to counterargue that ‘oh well they’re smaller/different species of course they’d need less calories’ that’s fine- feel free to do so- but just understand I personally don’t think the text was written with that sort of calculation in mind. 

The average human body, even if it is a body largely at rest, needs about 2,000 calories a day to help maintain good health (X) (PLEASE ignore BMI it's a bullshit method of measurement). Various fad diets or crazes have come and gone across the centuries, with focuses on trying to achieve whatever body type was popular in that moment. 

‘This will make you sexy. This will make you wanted. This will finally make someone love you. Before, you were unlovable. After, maybe you’ll have a real chance.’ 

Noticeably, in the fad diets of the 90s into today, the focus for a lot of people attempting to lose weight has been ‘restrict your caloric intake.’ That’s not a problem until you start cutting out foods with nutrients the body needs to survive and/or getting to under a 1,000 calories a day (X). 

Despite what a lot of popular caloric or generalized eating restriction diets will tell you, if you keep your body from energy, it will go into protection mode. Protection mode is where your body acts like it is starving, because it is, thus slowing down its stash of burnable energy. Your average caloric burn then DROPS. This causes it to become harder and harder to lose weight the longer you starve yourself, which creates a vicious cycle.

Furthermore, if you are both working out and dieting, you need good caloric intake when working out in order to help facilitate building muscle. If you don’t eat properly while working out, you don’t build the muscle you should and, in fact, you can lose muscle or cause permanent damage since your muscles won’t have the tools/energy to repair themselves after workouts. 

Crash diets/workouts like this are also not sustainable. There have been dozens of studies on how losing weight too quickly can be bad for the body, but beyond that, the mental tax of trying to maintain a non-maintainable lifestyle of limited eating/ overworkout often ends in a massive rebound (a rubber-banding if you wanna call it that) due to lethargy or mental fatigue (not helped by the lack of food.). That plus a brutalized metabolism will cause people to gain the weight they lost back, make it more difficult to lose, and might ultimately result in the person gaining more weight than they had previously. Again- vicious cycle. (X)

But the dieting industry, the diet culture doesn’t really care about that. It largely doesn’t care if its product or concept or whatever hurts you. Its job is to make money. 

Because here’s the thing- Most people have a part of themselves, however small, that would love to change. Most people would like to be liked, to be needed, to be desired in some capacity. Due to this, a person's self worth is often tied up in some part of themself, often something that is visual, often something that, if given the opportunity, they’d change. 

How does continued hunger relate to mood? 

The concept of being ‘hangry’ is pretty well known. (X). Be hungry long enough, you get physically unwell, and you can unlock a special sort of anger that only comes with being hungry. 

Not just that, but being hungry for extended periods of time can also cause issues with mental clarity (X).

It goes just beyond hangry though. Food and nutrition have long been understood to affect mood and mental well being, though not to the scientific degree able to be achieved today (X) . To summarize as simply as possible- your gut biome, which is dictated largely by your diet, directly impacts mental and physical wellbing. If your gut biome is maintained as it should be, then you overall will have a healthier mental state and overall feel better. If your gut biome is poor, due to undereating or lack of intake of needed nutrients, your biome will start to wither. This will directly impact your mental and physical wellbeing. (X)

I’m not going to dwell on this for terribly long, but I want to bring it up in correlation with the previous two sections because who amongst the Sonic crew is often labeled as being emotionally unstable and prone to moodswings? 

Amy Rose. 

Who is often fingered as having outbursts of volatile anger? 

Amy Rose. 

And who do we see starving themselves in game and working themselves past the point of exhaustion? 

Amy Rose. 

Listen, I confess this one is a bit of a stretch. It’s more of a continuation from the two other points that I sort of wanted to point out. If you can understand the previous arguments for her overworking and underfeeding herself, then this one feels like a natural third component in that and, as such, I felt it should be at least mentioned. 

What I Personally Have Seen in Regards to Eating Disorders in Media while Growing Up.

Thank goodness so much has changed. I remember eating disorders taking up whole episodes in television series, whole issues in comics, whole books in novel series, and it has largely evaporated. The problem is still around, because of course it is, but it is far less of a joke now than it use to be. 

When I was growing up, there were a lot- and I mean a lot- of stories that said, ‘Oh, if you were just a little better, someone would love you. Someone will notice you. If you were prettier, cooler, thinner, buffer, whatever- people would notice you. Someone would love you. Maybe even that specific person you wish could love you back.’ 

‘If you just tried a little harder, maybe it’ll happen.’

And you saw this in the real world, in the marketing, in the fashion, everywhere. Advertisements pushed that if you didn’t fit this very specific, narrow, palatable concept of beauty, then you weren’t worth anyone’s time. 

When this was portrayed in media, it often manifested directly into characters doing insane things to change themselves. Sometimes it was their style of dress, or their personality. Oftentimes, it would manifest in them trying to get buff or be thin.

With a lot of stories, the character often came to the conclusion of, ‘Hey, just be you. You’re good as you- don’t do things to impress other people. Don’t be who you’re not because you feel you have to.’ 

But it was a coinflip as to whether or not the story would prove that to be wrong or true. 

Worse still, even if the lesson was still ‘just be you,’ the whole ordeal was often portrayed as a joke. 

Specifically, women- girls- working out to exhaustion, starving themselves, was portrayed as a joke. 

If the goal of the story was for comedy, and the end had the character revert back to who they were previously, it can usually be put into one of two categories: 

‘How could you be so stupid? How could you believe you ever needed to change? How dumb are you to fall for social pressure like that?’ 

or-

‘How could you be so stupid? How could you believe you could change? You’re not strong enough to change. You’re too you to ever be liked.’  

On that note, let’s back up and return to Amy.

I’m the sort of person that’s got a narrow focus when it comes to Sonic properties. Specifically, if it’s not game canon, it’s not canon to me. 

However, in understanding that other canons exist, other properties within the Sonic universe exist, I won’t ignore them. Even if I don’t think they’re canon, if there is a throughline within, I cannot help but to notice. 

So it’s with this in mind that I ask you: Do you know of Sonic Spin and Dash?

It’s a manga. Put out in the early 00’s, it was a little series of comics that focused on Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Shadow, and Eggman having arbitrary interactions. They’re largely cute and lighthearted. I couldn’t tell you officially what the official age demographic would be for them, but I’d have to guess something fairly young. 

Volume 6 is titled, ‘A Maiden's High-Tech Diet.’ In it, Amy freaks out about having gained 3 kilos/ about 7 pounds. Despite the fact that she’s a growing girl, this deeply upsets her. She asks Tails and Sonic not to eat (in front of her? At all? Unsure.) while she’s trying to diet. Eggman shows up and offers her a solution- a diet machine that will help her achieve the weight and look she wants so deeply. 3 days later, Amy approaches Sonic again. 

She’s emaciated. Wobbling in from off-stage, unable to even speak a sentence without pausing, she asks Sonic if she’s looking thinner. 

Let me rephrase- she’s asking if she looks ‘thin enough’.

Eggman, via his dieting ‘robot’ which really is just a mech he’s hiding inside, asks Amy and co. to perform more insane tasks to weaken them and cause them to be too exhausted to fight him. However, even during this, Amy has other ‘slimming’ products that she’s bought which she uses to defeat Eggman.  

In the end, everyone exhausts Eggman, causing him to give up his scheme and leave. By the end of all of it, he himself is looking thin, having worked off much of his weight in this charade. 

It’s just played off as a joke. 

Alright, but that was early 00’s. How’s Sega been about Amy now? 

Well, this hasn’t really come up in games again, thank goodness. I reiterate- times have changed, and I’m very glad about that. That doesn’t mean this sort of thing is entirely gone, however. This image is from Sonic Channel in 2022 (X).

The image is accompanied by this caption:

---

“Otome Straight!” Emmy is passionate about boxercise , saying it's perfect for dieting

Indoor training on rainy days is perfect! Bouncing the punching bag and working up a good sweat with Emel's support

"Mom, do your best. Ato Sukoshi."

 Let's keep a healthy body with training for the rainy season !

---

Once again, we have this focus on dieting and food reduction. Again, not a bad thing- perfectly normal- but the reason I take pause is because of the crossed out icecream picture. 

@mysuperlaserpiss - I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to bring up your comment on that initial post I put out.

…Yeah. Yeah, I 100% agree. 

So when conversations around eating disorders comes up, one of the first things to discuss is, ‘what is your relationship to food?’ Essentially, it boils down to: do you see food as fuel and that it is a normal thing to have, or do you see it is something you have to earn/avoid? (X)

Amy beating the shit out of a punching bag sporting a crossed out picture of icecream, talking about dieting, smacks of, ‘you see food as something you have to earn/avoid,’ to me. It’s as simple as that. This appears as though she’s beating the desire for certain foods out of herself. Simply put, that’s not healthy. 

Okay, so what? 

Man, I don’t know.  

I don’t know, alright? I don’t know. 

I’m biased. I was inundated with the idea of ‘you need to be better’ from a young age from all angles. I am strong, but not appealingly buff. I am not what I'd call heavy, but I'm most certainly not appealingly slim and doctors have always bitched about my BMI (which again- terrible system to work off of). Not that long ago, I was hiding weights under my pant legs even in the dead of summer thinking the extra weight on me when I moved about my day would help me burn calories. Not that long ago, I was walking around 30km/18 miles a week on top of doing several hours of intense exercise a week, all while only taking in around only 500 cal a day.  I am constantly combating the idea that i need to deserve to eat, but if I eat, I won’t be loveable. Yeah, I’m doing better- significantly so- but I am a biased, untrustworthy source to write about this and I recognize that. I am biased because I’ve been through it. I am biased because I have lived this very specific, isolating nightmare, and no matter how much better I am now, there are still days where all I can manage is a couple hard boiled eggs and maybe canned low-sodium fish. 

I don’t know what to tell you. All I know is what I’ve been through, and when I look at Amy, when I look at her storylines through the games, I see a portion of me that I never would ever want to see in anyone else.

I see someone desperate to be wanted. I see someone disoriented and angry from lack of food. I see someone hurting themselves thinking it's normal to do so. I see someone trying and trying and trying so hard to fit this idea of ‘perfect’ and falling short.

There’s a lot of conversation right now around Amy’s character. How she was presented in early games vs now is significantly different, so of course it would be a subject of conversation. Sega seems to be trying to bring the characters into a new age, both in terms of the 2020’s and in terms of the characters' age themselves. There are those that say that Amy’s new presentation is due to her becoming older and more mature, while others argue that she’s become a shadow of her former self.  

I can see both sides of the argument. Of course I can- I’ve been with this characters since almost the beginning. Still, when I look at the changes in Amy Rose, when I look at how happy she is, how energetic and content, my knee-jerk reaction isn’t to start wagging fingers. 

It’s just, ‘Ah. Good. She’s eating.’ 

[jeankluv]

But daddy I love him - Satoru Gojo [ch.02]

short series

Summary: If there was a phrase that could describe you, it was; good girl. You had been a good girl all your life, following your father's orders and being as modest as possible. You had focused your entire life on being a perfect lady, one who could be a good wife in the future. This is how you had been raised and how you had been instructed. But your whole world was shaken when one warm summer morning, your eyes met the bold, defiant and sharp gaze of a young man with white hair.

Tags of the series: +18, female!reader, set in 1700s-1800s, loss of virginity, misogyny language and thinking, oral sex, fingering, innocent oc, masturbation, unsafe sex, vaginal sex, manipulative, eating disorders, abusive parents, no use of y/n

Words chapter: 4,4k

Notes: I can’t believe the amount of support the first chapter got, it’s truly unbelievable. The series will most likely be 4 chapters and a epilogue. And to be honest the name of the fic is nothing like the song (well a bit yes) but in Taylor’s song she says that her father loves him but here he doesn’t, they hate Satoru.

ch.01 | ch.02 | ch.03 | ch.04 | ch.05 | epilogue

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

Two days had passed since the party where Duke Gojo had asked for your hand in marriage and since then he had established himself in your house. Your parents had hated the idea and had let you know as soon as the party ended. You had to wear long-sleeved dresses to hide the bruises that had appeared on your arms. And you had barely left your room in those two days due to the intense pain in your legs caused by the blows that night.

At first the idea of ​​marrying Duke Gojo had seemed extremely frightening and crazy to you, but now you believed that it was the only escape you could have.

You haven’t seen Duke Gojo in those two days, but you knew he was in the house, because Rose has told you about the handsome Duke that was staying there.

You heard some knocks on your door and left the book you had in your hands.

“Come in.” You said walking away from the window.

You were expecting to see Rose or any other of the maids, what you were not expecting was to see Duke Gojo entering your room. A flush waved through your body as you realized you were just wearing a light dress that barely covered your body. I didn't expect the duke to come visit you, the only visits you expected were from your maids. That was why you had put on that light dress.

“Angel.” He said with a smirk crossing his face. “Were you waiting for me?” He said, closing the door behind his back and resting himself on it.

“Duke… I wasn’t expecting you to come to my room.” Your voice sounded almost as a whispered.

He chuckled and moved himself around the room. “I thought I was going to be able to see my future wife more if I stayed here but it seemed it was not the case.” He sat down on the sofa you had in your bedroom.

“I was sick.” You lied, you could not tell him what your parents did to you or else the family’s reputation would decline. “And I could not…”

“Show them to me, angel.” He stood up and with a few steps, he positioned himself in front of you.

“Duke what are you…?” Your words were left hanging in the air when the Duke held your wrist making you wince due to the bruises you still had.

“Was it them?” He muttered in a cold and angry tone. You denied, you couldn't tell the truth or then the punishment would be worse. “Angel, look me in the eyes.” Hesitating you looked at him and curiously you felt protection. “I will ask you again… was it them?”

Feeling your heart beating faster, you murmured. “Yes…” You saw something in him flicking and his eyes turning darker. “Duke please, don’t do anything.” You held to him, reading his intentions.

You didn’t know that man and you didn’t know what he was able to do, but seeing his gaze you could read he was capable of doing terrible things.

“Angel, you want me to let it be?” He held your gaze.

“Yes, please.” You whispered the last part. “If… if I get marry to you, I will be able to leave this place and not see them again.”

He chuckled and tilted your head. “So you are going to use me as your getaway?”

It sounded bad, but he was your best option and maybe your only option. “Yes.”

“I’m hurt. But alright angel.” He sat back down. “But you know they are against this marriage and besides, didn’t you tell me you wanted to marry someone out of love, and as far as I know you don’t love me, right?”

“No.” You looked down. “But maybe…”

“I will change that.” He took your hand and he pulled it, causing you to sit on his lap.

An extreme embarrassment took hold in you as you realized the position you were both in and as your dress had risen to your knees, the Duke placed his hands on your hips and squeezed them lightly. Your legs tensed and the heat you had felt in your lower abdomen resurfaced.

“Duke, this is not…” You tried to free yourself.

“It’s embarrassing for you angel?” He got closer to you. “You know once we are married, we will be doing a lot of things together right?” He whispered close to your mouth.

You swallowed harshly and looked away from his gaze. “But I don't think it's appropriate…”

“Don’t worry angel, we won’t be doing anything yet.” He said touching your leg up and down.

The inner heat began to grow in you and the way he looked at you was almost addictive. You wanted to get off her lap, but at the same time you wanted him to continue giving you the caresses he was giving you.

The duke smiled and buried his face in your neck. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

“Thank you duke.” You whispered surprised for the sudden comment.

“Call me Satoru.” He said.

He looked up to you and you felt how your body reacted to his gaze, for a moment you swore you felt butterflies dancing around, almost as if you were reading one of your romantic novels. But a knock on your door made you stand up faster than anything.

“Yes?” You tried to sound as normal as possible, although your body was shaken.

“My lady, it’s me.” Rose spoke on the other side. “Your parents want you to have lunch with them and Duke Gojo, so you can discuss some matters.”

“Alright, I will be ready soon.” You looked at the duke, who was peacefully sat on the couch.

“If you need anything my lady, please call me.”

“Don’t worry.” You heard her leave and walked to the duke. “Duke I think you should leave, if someone sees you here they might think wrongly.”

“I was just here visiting my future wife.” He kissed your hand. “But I will leave, to let you change. Although I would love to see you change in front of me.”

The heat was all over you once again, making you feel weak. If the duke was able to get you like that with simple words, What would happen once you consummated the marriage. Red took over your face and with clumsy steps you walked away from him. After a few seconds you heard how the door to your room opened and closed, you had been left alone again but this time with a whirlwind of emotions sailing inside you.

After a few minutes Rose entered your room and started helping you dress properly. The words you wanted to speak to Rose were stuck in your throat, you knew Rose was married to her love childhood and probably had experienced intimacy, she was also older than you. She was your closest to and the person you trusted the most.

“Rose…” You whispered while she was stroking your hair.

“Yes my lady?” You saw her smile in the mirror.

“How is it to be intimate…” You held your hands nervously. “I mean… now that I might get married to the duke I will have to be ready and…”

Rose slightly laughed at your comment. “Haven’t you read enough erotic books to know about it?”

You blushed. “They… are romantic… not erotic.” You defended yourself.

“My lady, you probably know enough, you don’t have to worry so much.”

“But what if… if he thinks I’m bad at it?”

“Not everyone is born learning, we learn with the time. Once the moment comes you will learn and be better at it.” She brushed your hair.

“But… he probably has more experience than I do.” You said. “God he even sat me on his lap this morning and he didn’t flinch.” You said that without realizing you were supposed to hide the fact the duke came.

“The duke came here?” She said with a surprise look on her face.

Rose's penetrating gaze looked at you waiting for a response. “He did… Please don’t tell my parents.” You turned to look better at her. “They will scold me and who knows what else they will do if they find out the duke has come to my room.”

Rose shook her head and warmly smiled at you. “I won’t say a single word to them, don’t worry. Now smile, you look absolutely beautiful my lady.”

You turned back up and looked at yourself in the mirror, you indeed looked beautiful. With a shy smile appearing on your lips, you thanked Rose and exited your room. With your head tilted up, you walked straight to the room where you were going to have a meal with your parents and the duke.

Your heart raised once again, at the mere thought of his presence and remembering his sense embracing your body. That sensation on your chest and body began to take over you. But you shook those feelings away when you stood in front of the door.

Touching the necklace you were wearing, you took a deep breath and tried to calm your whole self. With shaking hands you open the door, seeing your parents already there and the duke sat next to them.

“Sorry for being late.” You bowed the head.

“This kid…” You heard your mother whispering under her breath.

“It’s okay my lady.” The duke stood up and walked towards you, standing right in front of you. “You look beautiful today.” He said holding your hand and placing a wet kiss on it.

A blush painted your cheeks as you looked at him and especially at those intense blue eyes.

“Duke Gojo!” Your father spoke. “Let’s begin this meal please.”

The duke nodded and you sat next to your mother. You could feel your mother's angry look on you.

Your father cleared his throat and began to speak. “So duke Gojo, why do you want to marry our daughter?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to marry your daughter sir?” He grinned.

“Our poor daughter has a poor health and you sir leave far away from here, I don’t think it’s…” Your mother began her speech but soon enough was cut by the duke.

“I heard that you wanted her to marry Mr. Harrison and before that Sir. Lucas, who lives far away near the mountains.” He said, taking the cup of wine in his hands. “I don’t think you care about your daughter’s health but rather about your own safety. Am I wrong?”

You looked at your parents who looked at each other, scared at the duke’s words. “How dare you?!”

“Father please.” You begged, looking how your father stood up from his place.

“Shut up!” Your father screamed back at you, making you flinch.

“We let you stay in our house and even make a whole show about marrying our daughter and you say those things to us?” Your father approached the duke.

“Sir, I'm just stating what I have seen and what I think.” He smirked still firm on his seat.

“This meal is over.” He walked to the door, he turned to you and with fierce eyes he spoke. “Come with me now.”

You nodded and gave one last glance at the duke as you exited the room. You followed your father and your mother, you knew what it was about to happen and you were scared to death.

Your parents' steps were quick and you could feel the tense atmosphere building with each stride. When you entered your father's office you felt your skin turn cold and your breathing hitch. Your father sat in his seat and slammed the wooden table.

"You realize the mess you've gotten us into." Her voice was high and she penetrated you like daggers.

You wet your mouth, which had been dry to speak but your mother spoke first. “You probably went and seduced him, right?” You looked at her, surprised by her words. “In that meeting you had, you spread your legs for the duke, right?”

“No! Mother, father, I would never do that.” You held your breath.

“Shut up!” You closed your eyes, scared. “You know in what you got us into?” Your father spoke. “Your marriage to Mr. Harrison was already ready, but now… now we have to deal with that duke.” He sighed in his seat. “He will ruin our family, our honor.”

“Mr. Harrison is double my age…” You murmured wrinkling your white dress.

“Excuse me?” Your mother said. “That doesn’t matter, Mr. Harrison is the perfect choice for you.”

“Why?” You replied, you had never replied back, you had always stayed quiet. But now…

Before asking another question you feel your cheek burn, your mother had slapped you. You could taste blood in your mouth, she had hit you with one of the gold rings she was wearing. Holding your face, tears began to well up in your eyes.

"Don't you dare talk back to us like that again, do you understand?" Your mother yelled at you. You just nodded, feeling yourself shrink with each exhale you released.

“You better make the duke feel disgusted with you and break up that stupid marriage proposal. You understand?” Your father said from the table, you nodded. “Now out of my sight.”

You left the room with your heart racing and feeling tears running down your face. Crossing the backyard, you walked along the path that you knew so well and liked to walk so much to get to the beach. When you got to the beach you let yourself fall face down on the ground, causing some pebbles to get stuck in your knees. But they didn't hurt, they didn't hurt like your soul hurt at that moment.

Muffled by the sound of the waves crashing against the nearby cliff, you let your sobs wash over you and consume you. You loved that place, not because of your family, no. You loved it for the tranquility and peace it gave you, but now you wanted to run away, you even wanted to run towards the sea and turn into bubbles, like that story of the mermaid and the sailor that you had once read. You wanted to disappear.

“Angel…” You heard his voice muttering your nickname.

“Go away!” You screamed not looking at him and hiding your tears.

“Angel, let me see your face. Please.” For the tone of his voice you could tell he was worried.

“Why?” You murmured against your skin. “Why do you care about me?”

He sighed and you felt how he sat next to you on the sand. “You want me to be honest with you angel?” You stayed silent but carefully listening to him. “The truth is that I might be a bit bad after all.” Your body tensed up hearing him. “But not to you… I could never hurt such a beautiful flower like you.” He whispered.

“How are you bad?” You whispered.

“Because I do want to ruin your family.” You tightened your grip around yourself at those words and trembled slightly. “But don’t get me wrong my angel.” He continued. “Not gonna lie, at first I wanted to ruin you too, but after seeing you on this beach, so beautifully, so ethereally reading a book, something on me shifted.” He explained. “I didn’t want to ruin you and when I saw what your parents did to you, I knew that I only wanted to ruin them and not you.”

Sniffling, you looked up at him, your eyes red with tears. “Why do you want to ruin them?” You whispered.

He looked at you and swallowed, you saw how his throat moved. His cold fingers touched your cheeks, causing you to close your eyes against the sensation or the pain, you no longer knew. “Was it them?” He whispered to you, trying not to hurt you.

You looked away and breathed. "It's not the first time." Looking at the horizon you tried to calm your agitated heart. “But please answer me.” Your voice came out like a plea, you needed to know the truth.

He sighed and dropped his hand to the side. “I was ten when my brother became to new duke after both of my parents die. At first everyone thought it was a failure of the carriage and that was why they had fallen down the ravine. My father died instantly, but my mother lay dying for hours until she died. “My brother was 17 when he inherited the title, but he always believed there was something strange about his accident.” She ruffled her hair. “As the years went by she began to investigate and little by little she discovered loose ends that had never fit together.”

You turned your face to look at him as he continued speaking. “My parents, well my family has always been very close to the royal family and they had always supported the king, so much so that my father was his right-hand man for years. But 20 years ago a group of nobles opposed the king's reforms since it would take away wealth from the nobles.” You had heard about it. “My father and the king repressed and punished them for it, it was considered a betrayal.”

“My family was part of them…” You whispered.

“Yes.” He sentenced. “My brother also found letters with your father’s signature talking about sabotaging my family.” You felt how you turned pale and the blood ran cold in your veins. “Before he died, he had collected enough evidence to frame your family and three other noble families.” He whispered, clenching her fists.

“Duke…” You whispered, his eyes were thirsty for revenge and that caused you to tremble in your place.

When the duke heard your voice, his shoulders and gaze relaxed and he looked at you with serenity. “Angel… I don't plan to hurt you, you are not to blame for what your parents have done and you have also suffered because of them.” He whispered, bringing your foreheads together and letting them connect.

You felt the warmth of his body transfer to yours, and that fear you had felt disappeared from you, to be replaced by a feeling of calm and protection.

“Duke…” You whispered.

“Call me Satoru, when it’s just the two of us, angel.” He whispered.

You nodded at his request. “I… I want to leave this household.” You closed your eyes. “I’m scared but… aside from Rose you are the only person who has stood for me Duke…”

“Angel… Call me Satoru and whatever you tell me to do I will.” He firmly said.

“I want you…” You took a deep breath. “I want you to take my first time. I know that once my parents find about that they won’t care if I marry you because they will despise me.”

“Angel, are you sure about what you are asking me?”

“I’m sure du- Satoru.” You looked at him.

You saw how the duke stood up and walked slowly from one side to the other, then kneel before you.

“I really thought you would ask me to do something crazy like murder them.” He laughed. “But this angel? You really drive me crazy and I would love to make love to you on this same beach. Admire you and make you gasp with pleasure right now."

His words caused an intense fire in you, so much so that you had to squeeze your legs before the new sensation that had been established in your intimate area.

Satoru approached you and cupped your face with both hands. “I'm going to kiss you my angel.” And before you could reproach or say anything, his warm, wet lips were on yours.

That was your first kiss, you had never kissed anyone before, always behaving too well and too into your books, where love stories gave you butterflies in your stomach so you could live your own love story. Satoru deepened the kiss, leaving you lying on the sand and him on top of you. With each passing moment you felt like you were getting hotter and hotter.

When you were both short of breath, Satoru pulled away from you, biting your lower lip, causing you to let out a small whimper.

“I will see you tonight, angel.”

He got up from the sand and with one last kiss on the forehead he disappeared from your sight. With your chest rising and falling agitatedly you tried to compose yourself, your entire being was an accumulation of emotions that were mostly new to you and you needed time to process them.

You turned your head to look at the place where Satoru had left and thought about what would happen that night.

☆*:.｡.☆ .｡.:*☆

You hugged yourself, feeling the cold of the night hit your exposed skin. You were barely wearing a thin cloth that covered your most intimate parts. The duke had said that he would visit you once the sun had set and the moon was shining brightly in the sky.

Your heart was beating strongly in your chest and a warmth had established itself in your chest. You could hear the hands of the clock moving, indicating the passing of time. And with every minute that passed, your uncertainty and your nervousness only believed a little more.

Two touches on the window of your balcony brought you out of the momentary trance in which you had established yourself. Turning on your heels you could see the large figure of the duke on your balcony.

With a light step you approached the balcony door and opened it. “How did you get up here?” You inquired.

“I have my secrets, angel.” He whispered to your ear. “You look amazing tonight.”

“Thank… thank you.” You whispered, feeling your cheeks turning red.

“You know we can still wait until we are…” He started talking.

You shook your head. “I don’t want to, I have always followed my parents orders and I’m tired.” You looked down. “I love this place but… I want to leave and I want my parents to know that I will never follow their orders, that I’m tired of their abuses and their treatment.”

The duke held your face back up and smiled down at you. “That’s my angel.” He said before kissing you.

That was your second kiss and just like the one at the beach, your knees trembled and you felt weak under his soft lips. You felt how your hand left your face and began to go down your body, tracing each of your curves. An intense heat settled on you when his hand reached your thigh and with a quick movement he raised it, causing you to be even closer to each other.

You gasped against his mouth as you felt him stick so close to you and you swore he smiled against your lips as you heard that lewd sound come out of you.

Separating himself from you, he began to leave kisses on your neck, causing you to tilt your head back to give him more space. You felt ecstatic, you could feel how your entire body vibrated with every kiss, every bite that the duke was leaving on you.

“Duke…” You whispered when you felt it go down to the area of ​​your breasts, which were only covered by a thin layer of silk.

“Angel, I told you to call me Satoru when it’s just you and me.” He whispered against your skin causing the already growing heat inside you to grow even more. “Shall we go to the bed my angel?” He whispered in your ear biting the lobe.

Nodding, the duke or rather Satoru grabbed your hand and guided you to the bed where he sat down and with his strong arms he sat you on top of him. Causing once again a small gasp to escape your lips as you felt that hardness collide against your intimacy.

Your dress was completely hiked up, exposing your thighs, and the straps had been lowered causing your breasts to be about to be exposed to the man who had turned your world upside down.

“I will gentle with you.” He whispered grabbing one of the straps and pulling it down, exposing yourself to him. “If you want to stop, say so.” He brought her hand up and trapped your chest with it, causing you to thrash on top of him. "Alright." He said before beginning to caress your nipple.

You closed your eyes tightly against the new sensations that a simple touch on your nipple was causing in you. You had read about this but you had never thought that it could feel like this.

Your back arched even more when you felt his mouth rest on your nipple and begin to suck. With one hand you held onto him to avoid falling and with the other you covered your hand to prevent those moans that were building up in your throat from escaping.

You felt embarrassed by everything your body was feeling at that moment, but it felt really good and you wanted more of him. Unconsciously you moved your hips rubbing against Satoru's erection.

“Oh angel, don’t do that I won’t be able to hold back.” He whispered looking up at you.

“I am sorry…”

“It’s okay, I know you are anxious but me too.” He took you from the waist and supports you on the bed, leaving him on top of you.

He dressed him as he got rid of his jacket and then his white shirt, exposing his body. You felt that familiar warmth inside you again. Satoru grabbed your leg, causing your underwear to show, leaving you even more exposed. With your leg in his hands, he began to leave kisses on it, while he went higher and higher.

“Angel…” He whispered to you. “Have you ever touched yourself?”

You shook your head, you had never done it, you had read about it, but you had never done it, since you felt that it was something too vulgar.

“Alright angel.” He took your hands and pulled you, sitting you on the bed, both of you chest to chest. “I'm going to stand behind you and teach you how to touch yourself.” He whispered close to your ear. "Do you think it's okay?"

You nodded and Satoru with great agility positioned himself behind you, your back against his chest. You could even feel his heartbeat pounding against your back.

“I will guide you okay?” He took your hand in his and started to descend.

🏷️: @catobsessedlady @zoeyflower @satoracyxys @lavender-hvze @slashersgirlypop

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 Part 4

Jungkook wants to create a home for you- not knowing that that's already what he is to you.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, road to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

Length: 1.2k Words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Jungkook is wary as he walks into the rather.. unique building, old school reformed into what looks like a daycare for hybrids of different ages it appears like.

Some rooms are furnished, others are clearly meant for younger hybrids, and he even walks past a room that’s only filled with pillows and blankets and stuffed animals of all sizes, flooring entirely made up of mattresses. Overall, this is not what he thought the correctional facility would look like- as the man with the cat eyes approaches him, soft smile on his otherwise rather stoic face. “I’m happy you decided to come by so soon.” He tells him, black cat ears moving a little between his equally dark long hair. “Min Yoongi. I assume this bag is for her?” He asks, and Jungkook nods, still not quite understanding.

This man is a hybrid himself. And yet he’s clearly wearing a staff-badge on his casual clothing.

“I’ll explain some of the structure to you while I’ll let staff look through the things- just for protocol.” He tells him, giving the bag to an elderly woman who takes it, after Yoongi writes your tag number on a plastic card and attaches it to the black sportsbag Jungkook brought with him.

“They’re currently having lunch together.” Yoongi says, as he walks down a hall with Jungkook right behind him. “But she’s not very social- and she seems to be wary of most foods, so she eats by herself with the help of staff.” The cat hybrid hums. “We don’t know much about her, only have her paperwork- but we usually like to paint the picture ourselves.”

“Did she... eat well here?” Jungkook asks, hands in his pockets.

“So-so.” Yoongi admits. “The seperation from you clearly made her shrink back into her shell quite a bit. She refused to come out of a corner in her room for hours after she arrived.” He explains, and Jungkook frowns.

“She likes.. Mild cheeses. Like, the animal shaped kind you can get at the supermarket.” Jungkook mumbles. “And simple stuff. Like chicken soup. Or you know.. Anything I eat, really.”

Yoongi chuckles. “You eat animal shaped cheese?”

“Shut up.” Jungkook snaps a little bashfully, when Yoongi opens a door.

“This is her room. Temporary, of course.” Yoongi explains as they both walk in. “See, here’s how it’s going to go down.” Yoongi offers, sitting down on a chair in one corner of the tiny room, while Jungkook awkwardly stands in front of your bed. “I know who you are, and what you’ve done. Your situation isn’t ideal to say the least.” The worker tells him. “But- I filed in for mutual rehabilitation. And the court agreed.”

“Mutual.. Rehabilitation?” Jungkook repeats, unsure. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what you think it does.” Yoongi shrugs. “You told the janitor back at the carecenter that you’d take on a job if she was to live with you?”

Jungkook fidgets a little, shrugs, as he looks down at his shoes. “Yeah. Maybe at a grocery store. Night shift, or something. So she’s asleep when I’m gone, and.. Won't miss me or something.” He explains.

“Do you have room for her at your apartment?” Yoongi continues to question.

“She could have my bedroom.” He shrugs again. "I could just sleep on the pull out couch in the living room, no big deal-” He tells the hybrid, who chuckles.

“What about food? Do you know what a hybrid needs?” He wonders, leaning back a little with crossed arms.

“I know that she needs supplements? Like, I looked up some, and there’s like.. Little packets? That you can mix with water and it apparently tastes like fruit or something.” Jungkook explains. “and there’s other stuff you can use in meals that don’t taste like anything.”

“You've done research?” Yoongi smiles. “Even though you were so sure you’d never get to adopt her?”

“I.. Was thinking that maybe a friend of mine could. Instead of me.” He explains, carefully sitting on the very edge of the bed. “And he’s never owned a hybrid before so I wanted to make sure I.. could like, give him advice if needed.”

“Well, it might not be so impossible for you to take her in after all.” The cat hybrid jokes. “I’d say, after you go home today, clean up back there. Get stuff ready. They’ll send someone to check your home in a week or so, just to make sure. It’ll be random. Just so you can’t prepare.” He informs Jungkook, who nods, suddenly determined.

If there’s a chance at getting both his freedom, and you at the same time- then he’ll take it.

“Then, you’ll get three weeks trial.” He explains further. “If there’s no hiccups during that time- meaning she runs off, gets hurt due to negligence, or otherwise has complaints- you'll sign a permanent housing contract.” Yoongi tells him.

“Housing?” He asks, confused.

“We.. Don't like to call it ‘ownership’. A little outdated, don’t you think? She’s not a pet after all. Neither am I.” He jokes, grinning a little.

“...true.” Jungkook mumbles, when a woman is heard laughing.

“Hey, careful, you’re gonna trip sweetheart!” She calls out with a clear smile in her tone, when the door suddenly swings open, revealing you- wide eyed, tail wagging fast, instantly tearing up as you spot Jungkook on the bed.

You can’t help it.

You basically tackle the young man, making everyone laugh at how he desperately attempts to not have you fall off the corner of the bed with him together, though you miserably fail at that, ending up on the floor where you squeeze yourself as closely to him as you can, now on his lap.

“I hope they set out an extra plate?” Yoongi asks the elderly woman who laughs.

“Oh, they did!” She laughs.

And indeed, they did.

Though, technically, they did not need an extra chair, as you’re still sitting on his lap at the lunch table, most hybrids already finished and washing their dishes- some with help, others by themselves. You’re happily eating your soup now that you’ve seen Jungkook eat it too- seemingly taking his actions as a sign that whatever you’re eating right now is safe.

“Are they being nice to you?” Jungkook asks you as you finish your bowl of soup, making you nod, before you press yourself back into him. “Yoongi said I can visit you every day if you want.” He offers, and at that, he can feel your tail wag against his thigh. “Though I gotta get your room ready back at my place.”

You look over your shoulder at him in surprise, and he can’t help but laugh.

“What, did you think you’re gonna stay here?” He asks, and you just shrug. “Nah.” He shakes his head, before he smiles.

“You got somewhere to call ‘home’ soon.”

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 4861

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, mental illness, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

11. Palmiers

Bucky

Because he’s on the far end of the spectrum, Bucky’s sex drive is affected by his condition. He wakes up hard almost every morning of his life, and Steve doesn’t need much encouragement to get himself worked up into the same state very quickly. Mutual morning jerk offs were always bound to become part of their routine.

They take a shower and stand toe to toe, hands sliding and groping all over each others’ slick bodies, pulling on their cocks until both of them are shooting off against each other’s bellies. The water washes it away, and Steve gives him a deep, happy kiss. “Mmm. Mornin’.”

“Blegch. Go brush your teeth, you heathen.”

Steve laughs and gets out of the shower. Bucky stays in for a few minutes longer, adjusting the spray to its hardest setting and letting the hot water beat down on his back and shoulders. He sighs and stretches his neck this way and that, trying to get his vertebrae to pop, but his muscles are all too tight, and the stretching just seems to make it worse. Bucky drops his head in defeat. In all honesty, his shoulders and neck and back are all pretty fucked after months of near-constant use of his prosthetic.

Steve’s right: he doesn’t usually wear it this much. And he’s also right that Bucky’s been wearing it all day every day because he wants to feel powerful and able bodied in front of Mary. As per usual, Steve is the first one to have noticed what maladaptive behavior pattern he’s doing and why, and pointed it out to him. It really is for the best, Bucky knows. Because he can’t sustain wearing the arm all the time anymore. The thing is just too damn heavy.

The engineers who designed it have made tweaks and adjustments over the years. They’ve done all they can to lighten the load as much as possible, but the thing still weighs over twenty pounds. Twenty pounds doesn’t sound like much, but when it’s pulling on the same muscle groups day in and day out, everything in Bucky’s body winds up getting strained and unbalanced. He understands better now, how women fuck up their necks so badly from shouldering their purses (or their tits) around. A little bit of weight makes a big difference.

As a Dom, Bucky may have a tiny problem admitting when he needs help. He has to be in quite a bit of pain, trouble, or both, before he’ll ever speak up and allow himself to be vulnerable like that. It’s an inherent behavior that shrinks have been trying to therapize and medicate out of him since he was a kid, but nothing ever changed it much. Falling in love with Steve helped; Bucky can let himself be more vulnerable around him. But even still, it’s no small thing that he regularly approaches his husband to ask for help in getting his arm back on correctly (Bucky can do it, but it’s a pain in the ass, getting the mechanism lined up just right before it’ll take). 

He gets out of the shower and dries off, then approaches Steve with the prosthesis. “Gimme a hand?” 

Steve makes a cheerful noise of acknowledgement around his mouthful of toothpaste, spits and rinses, then takes the arm from Bucky. He lines it up just so, and then Bucky feels the deep shudder of the arm’s inner workings coming to life as they recognize their mate. The arm attaches and Steve lets go. 

“Thanks babe.”

“Uh huh.” 

It’s as Bucky’s bending over and pulling up his underwear and joggers that a spasm runs through his back and he cries out in a pained, “Ah!”

“Babe? What’s wrong?”

Gritting his teeth, Bucky slowly stands back up. He’s able to get his pants up, but when he tests the movement of his neck and shoulders, the pain flares again. It feels like everything between the base of his skull and his mid back is seizing up. “Fuck,” he hisses, frustrated. It’s his day off. He’d been planning to go to the gym for his long workout. 

Steve steps up and puts a worried hand on his left shoulder. “Babe? Do you need it off?” 

“No. I need some painkillers and a magnesium tablet,” he grunts, already turning around (full body, because turning his head is a bad idea right now). “Fuck.” He starts off for the kitchen. 

Steve follows along with worried protests, telling him to lay his “stubborn ass” down and he’ll get it for him. Bucky ignores him and goes to the kitchen cabinet where they keep their supplement stuff. He winds up yelling again when he tries to reach up and grab the ibuprofen. “Fuck!” he says angrily.

“Babe, I said to let me do it,” Steve scolds, his hand back on Bucky’s shoulder. “And let me take this off. It’s hurting you.”

“Steve, back off,” he snaps, angry and waspish from being in pain, and from being frustrated with his own goddamn body. 

“What’s going on?” 

Bucky turns his head without thinking, hisses in pain, and then turns himself full-body to face in Mary’s direction. She’s standing there looking at the two of them in concern, one hand holding one of those swirly, flaky, crack-cookies that she makes, and the other holding a cup of tea. Her eyes widen at the sight of Bucky’s arm and body, reminding him that this is the first time she’s seen him without a shirt on. “Nothin’,” Bucky grunts.

“Shit,” she says. “Are you guys fighting? Is this a couples’ fight? I’ll just …” She turns to leave back towards her room.

“We’re not fighting,” Steve says. “Buck’s just being an ass. He gets that way when he’s in pain.”

Bucky would turn his head to glare at him, but it isn’t worth another flair of agony in his shoulder. “I’m fine,” he says, when Mary comes back over. “It’s fine,” he stresses. He opens the pill bottle and dumps three capsules into his palm. “Jeez, will everybody stop babying me? I just need a glass of water.” 

“I’ll get it,” Steve says, causing Bucky to huff once again. “Don’t be a jerk, babe.”

“Why are you in pain?” Mary asks, her eyes tracing all over the left side of Bucky’s scarred up body. “Is it … does your arm hurt?” 

“No. It just fucks up my muscles, sometimes.”

“Your muscles?”

Bucky sighs impatiently. “Steve, do you know where the heating pad is?”

“I’ll have to look.” Steve has returned with a glass of water, and Bucky tosses back the handful of pills, wincing at how even the slight motion of raising his arm up makes his trap twinge in protest. “Ugh.” 

“You should get a massage,” Mary suggests, and Bucky fights not to lash out at her. She doesn’t know that one of his biggest pet peeves in life is having other people tell him what he “should” do.

“My PT maxed out back in October,” he tells her. “Doesn’t renew again till January.”

Steve takes the water glass from him once he’s done. “Go lie face down on the bed,” he murmurs. “I’ll find the heating pad.”

“Well I could do it,” Mary blurts out. Both Bucky and Steve pause and look at her. She looks surprised, too, as though she hadn’t been planning to say the words until they were out of her mouth, and now doesn’t know how to continue  “Um, that is ..." she gestures weakly with her cookie. “I just meant I know how to, if you wanted.” Eventually her cheeks color and she looks away. “Erm, Nevermind.”

“Wait,” Steve says. When Mary turns back, he’s looking at her earnestly, and Bucky thinks, Oh no. “You know how to give a back massage? Like a real one?”

“Yeah. My, ah, my ex always had neck problems, so.” She shrugs, looking embarrassed. “I took a class at the community college, learned the basics.”

Bucky blinks. That’s the subbiest fucking thing he’s ever heard. “You did this for the husband that beat you?” he drawls, immediately regretting it because it comes out sounding way more derogatory than he intends it to. “Sorry. I just … actually would pay good money for a massage right now. If you know how to do it.” 

Mary bites her lip, looking deliciously shy and sweet. Bucky’s mood sours as he realizes that she doesn’t really want to. He’s about to let her off the hook, but then some unconscious movement he makes without meaning to has him flinching in pain again. “Sheezus,” he complains. 

“It’s not usually this bad,” Steve worries.

“I must’a slept on it wrong.”

Mary nods, as if this settles it. “Okay. Well, go in the bedroom and tie your hair up so it's out of the way.” She turns to Steve, all but dismissing Bucky now that she’s got a task to complete. Bucky fights back an amused smirk as he heads towards the bedroom, and he hears Mary bossing Steve around, telling him she needs dry oil, the heating pad, towels, and all the seat cushions off the couch. 

The fuck does she need those for? Bucky thinks as he pads back into his and Steve’s room.

He finds out a moment later, when Mary and Steve come in with a couch cushion each, and Steve goes back out to get another. They lay them in a line on the bed, and Mary directs Bucky to lie on top of them, with his body placed just so and his face down just there, and … Oh. He gets it.

She’s left space between the cushion under Bucky’s chest, and the next cushion up, which supports his forehead. The gap creates a drop through for his face—like a massage table. And when she shapes the towel into a donut shape and sticks it there, it's pretty much perfect.

“Oh,” Bucky says, as he’s settling into place. “Oh, that’s actually really smart.” He can’t see Mary from his position, but somehow he senses her preening over the praise anyway. Steve returns from the bathroom with the heating pad and oil. “Found this stuffed in the back of the linen closet. I don’t know what ‘jojoba’ is, but, um … it’s either that or the virgin olive out in the pantry.”

“Do not use that,” Bucky grumbles. “Shit’s expensive, and I don’t wanna smell like garlic truffle for the next three days.”

“That’ll work fine.” Mary is totally task focused, ignoring Bucky’s surliness and telling Steve to apply the heating pad across Bucky’s shoulders and neck for thirty minutes before they get started.

“Thirty minutes?!” Bucky complains, unable to see anything but the top of the bedcovers as the two of them go out into the hallway. 

“Just relax, Babe,” Steve says (and if Bucky isn’t mistaken, he sounds amused). “Take a nap.”

“I just woke up!” He scoffs at the bedspread when the door quietly ‘snicks’ shut and he realizes that he’s been abandoned. “Well okay then,” he mutters petulantly. Steve is right: he does turn into an ass when he’s in pain. Hmm. Maybe he should work on that.

Steve

Steve turns the tv onto a low volume so they can talk without Bucky hearing. “Sorry about him,” he says. “He’s a humongous jerk whenever he’s feeling crummy.”

“You mean it’s not just all the time?” Mary drawls.

“He’s … just one of those people you have to learn to love before you like them.” Mary raises an eyebrow, and Steve winces. “Er, that sounded harsh. Don’t tell him I said that.”

She twists her lips and looks down. “Your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Thanks, Hon. You want more tea?” 

“Yes please. There’s more of the palmiers in a baggie next to the coffee pot, if you want any.” 

“Heck yeah, I love those things.” Steve had thought the prepackaged ones at Starbucks were good, hadn’t even realized that they weren’t supposed to be all stale and hard like that. Just another commercialized pastry that Mary’s gone and ruined him for. He goes into the kitchen and makes himself coffee and Mary tea, knowing by now how she takes it.

She thanks him silently as he returns and joins her on the couch, both of them sitting close to one another on the chaise, since it’s the only part of the couch that still has its cushion.

"Palmier is French. Know what else they call these?" Mary asks.

Steve's lips quirk. Mary's always got these little facts she knows about the origins of this pastry or that. It's cute. Endearing. "No," he plays along. "What?"

"Elephant ears, because of the shape, see?"

"Oh yeah. Huh. That's neat."

She goes back to eating and sipping at her teacup, and after a moment of unrequited, affectionate staring, Steve looks away. "Elephant ears," he murmurs, trying not to be mopey. "That's funny."

They split the palmiers between them, and aside from the sounds of them munching cookies and sipping their drinks, it’s quiet for a long time. Steve made both the tea and the coffee very hot, so they at least have the excuse of cradling and blowing on their steaming mugs to keep the silence from being too awkward. Mary keeps her eyes trained forward, but Steve gets the sense that she isn’t really paying attention to the home renovation program that’s playing on the tv. His suspicions are confirmed when she eventually asks,

“So: His arm.”

Steve inhales slowly. “Yeah. His arm.”

“What happened?”

Steve frowns. He can tell by her inflection that she’s asking not just about the arm, but about the state of Bucky’s entire left side from shoulder to hip. “We were in the army,” he confides. “Deployed overseas. I made captain young, but he was a specialist in the field: a sniper. So I wasn’t put into the same types of situations as he was. His convoy got blown up by an IED. And when the dust settled …” He shrugs. “No more arm.”

“Oh.” Mary sits there and absorbs that information. “I guess I kind of figured it was something like that. I mean what else is there, besides like, a shark attack or something?”

Steve’s mouth twitches. Shark attack, ha. He’ll have to suggest that one to Buck. Might be fun to lie about, the next time a stranger asks. “Naw, just a boring old bomb. And afterwards, well. It was a long road for him, after. He didn’t have the arm when I met him.”

Mary turns her head, surprised. “Oh. You two didn’t meet in the army?”

“No, after. I met him at the V.A., when he was already angry, hurt, and didn’t want to be where he was.” Steve looks over and gives her a meaningful look. “Kind of like when I first met you.” 

Her eyes widen, and then her face colors and she looks away again, pulling her knees up and hunkering over her mug. “Was I really that bad?” she mumbles.

“... You were pretty bad, Honey.”

She frowns and doesn’t say anything, and Steve decides to leave it alone. “So yeah, his arm. He got into a program for experimental cybernetics. It was a big gamble. Back then, he still had his arm down to nearly the elbow, which meant he could use a lot of the different types of prostheses they had on the market. The less arm you have, the less they can do for you. The surgeries for the implant required removal all the way up to and including his left shoulder blade. So if he went through with it and the procedures didn’t work out, he’d be left with less function than he started with.”

“Jeez.”

“Hm, yeah. It was a risk.” Steve stares across the living room as he remembers all of the hospital stays and surgeries and revisions and therapy appointments. “Luckily it worked out. They replaced some bones with metal supports, some of his natural muscle with enhanced synthetic tissue. His body didn’t reject any of the junk they were putting in him, which was the biggest worry. All in all, it took five surgeries over the course of three years, and then a shit ton of physiotherapy. Buck says it was worth it, now, but it wasn’t a walk in the park when it was happening, I’ll tell you that.”

Beside him, Mary makes a sad little noise in her throat. “But … all that and it still gives him pain?”

“Yeah. He gets PT for it, but like he said; it never winds up lasting the full year. I force him to my veterans' support group when I can, but he’s gotta be in a really charitable mood for that.” Steve snorts humorlessly. “He’s always hated being disabled. It doesn’t jive with his DPD. You know that stereotype about men: never wanting to stop and ask for directions?” 

“Yeah.”

"Well it's true. And then you take a guy who’s as far on the spectrum as Bucky is, and it’s ten times worse.” He widens his eyes in emphasis and gets a little giggle out of Mary for it, which makes him warm with pride. He pulls his feet up onto the couch next to Mary’s and nudges her knee with his. “Just fair warning: He’s the worst patient I’ve ever seen. So don’t take it personally if he’s grumpy at you in there.”

Mary frowns and looks away. “Well, I mean I don’t have to do this. If he doesn’t want to.”

“Pretty sure he wants to. And he needs help with it, whether his stubborn ass wants to admit it or not.”

She nods, though she still doesn’t look confident. “It’s been over a year since I worked on anybody …”

“Well then this’ll be good practice for you, won’t it?” Steve nudges her again in encouragement and tells her to finish up her tea: He doesn’t expect Bucky’ll lie around patiently for much longer.

(“Oh, and Hon, maybe don’t tell him we were out here talking about him this whole time.”)

(“Duh.”)

In the bedroom, Mary climbs onto the bed next to where Bucky is laid out on the couch cushions. She takes the heating pad off his neck and puts it aside, looking nervously over the broad expanse of his back. “Um …” She reaches for the oil bottle and pumps some into her hands. She spends a long, long time just spreading it between her hands and staring at Bucky, until finally he snaps,

“What’s the holdup?” 

“Babe, be nice,” Steve warns. “Mary? You need anything?”

“Um, no. It’s just … usually I'd ..." She makes an aborted move, like she's thinking about repositioning herself, but winds up staying where she is. "Right," she mutters to herself. "This'll work fine." She reaches forward like she’ll start rubbing Bucky’s back, hesitates, shuffles closer to his side, then sets her hands on his shoulders.

Bucky doesn’t so much as twitch, but he’s not used to new people touching him, and Steve would bet money that his eyes are clenched shut right now.

“Okay,” Mary warns. “I haven’t done this in awhile, so don’t get your hopes up for a miracle or anything.”

“Anything’ll be better than what I can do myself,” Bucky says gruffly, voice somewhat muffled by the cushions. “Just go to town. You can’t hurt me any worse.”

Steve can see Mary’s face, and he knows by now what she looks like when she’s flustered. Awkwardly, he steps to the side, heading for the door. “I’ll just go watch some—”

“No!” Mary squeaks, and when Steve turns back around she’s looking at him with wide eyes. “Don’t leave,” she says, like being left alone touching Bucky is the worst possible thing that could happen. Steve doesn’t miss how the muscles in Bucky’s arms do tense at hearing her plead for Steve to stay. 

“Uhm, okay. I’ll just … be over here.” He leans back against the dresser, feeling almost painfully awkward. Once again, he’s reminded how Mary has shown absolutely no desire to engage in sexual contact with them. He hopes she doesn’t think this is a ploy to force physical contact. She was the one who suggested it, after all.

She starts at the base of Bucky’s skull, rubbing her thumbs in small circles. “As I go along, try to tell me which areas feel the worst,” she murmurs, and Bucky hums in acknowledgement. Steve watches as she pushes and circles and kneads Bucky’s neck, working down on into his shoulders. He’s struck by how feminine and tiny her hands look against Bucky’s body … and then has to steer his mind away from the thought of how tiny they might look in other places.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky gasps, when she reaches a certain spot on the left side of his neck.

She freezes. “Bad?” 

“Nngh. Good,” he slurs. “That whole area from there goin’ down into my back ‘n all around my shoulder blade is where it’s worst.”

“Okay.” She tentatively presses around in and around the left side of his neck and shoulder. “Oh, yeah. It starts right here and goes down.” She slides her hand down the muscle and hums. “Oh, I can feel it.”

(Steve tries really hard not to think sexual thoughts.)

“Riiight here? and … here?"

Between the cushions, Bucky’s voice comes out in a series of garbled moans.

“That’d be a yes,” Steve interprets, and Mary actually shoots him a grin at that. Glad to have cut the tension a bit, he dares to take a few steps closer to the bed. He peers down at what Mary’s doing, the way her fingers dig in at sharp, focused points in some places and rub more gently in others. “It’s your trap that’s the worst,” she mutters distractedly, feeling around with her hands and staring off into space with the tip of her tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth. It’s cute. “Mmm, but probably your levator scapulae, too. Those tend to get fucked up hand in hand.”

“Mmrr.”

“And here: your rhomboid.”

“Ooh!”

“Tender?” 

“Shuyeahhh,” Bucky grunts, then his breath hitches when she digs into another spot. “Oh, yep yep right there. Was’that?”

Steve can’t help but grin. Bucky sounds like he’s drooling at this point.

“Your trapezius muscle. It's big. Does a lot of work, covers a large area. Probably the main offender.” Mary hums and feels around a little more. “Oof, yeah. You’ve got a whole bunch of tension right here.”

“You can feel it?” Steve asks, fascinated. He can't see anything.

“Yeah. Here, gimme your hand.” Steve is taken aback when she grabs his hand and guides his fingers into place, her own smaller hand pressing down. “Riiight there. You feel it?”

Steve swallows thickly. “Ah, yeah.” His eyes flick from her hand on his hand on Bucky’s back, up to her face, and back again before she can catch him looking. “Y-yeah it’s hard.” He grimaces at his choice of words (If he's not careful, "it" soon will be).

“I’m gonna focus on this one for a few minutes,” Mary tells Bucky. Then you can guide me around to the other bad spots.”

“Sounds good,” he slurs. Steve is about to take a step back again, but then Bucky calls out, “Hey Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Pay attention to what she’s doin’. It feels really fuckin’ good.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mmhm. You can learn n' do it next time,” he says dreamily. On his back, Mary’s hands still for the briefest of seconds. “S’goood.”

Steve nods and comes back to sit on the bed. “Okay,” he agrees, scooting in close and glancing at Mary. Her face looks pinched all of a sudden, her expression stiffened as if in annoyance. “I promise I’m not as dumb as I look,” he jokes, and watches as her face smooths out and she smiles a little.

“Oh! Oh no it’s … it’s okay, I don’t mind. I’ll teach you how.”

“Don’t mind me, m’just a teaching tool,” Bucky drawls, and Steve laughs and pats his shoulder. 

“Yeah you are. So shut up and let her teach.”

Bucky grunts and shuts up. Steve looks to Mary for instruction. He can tell she’s uncomfortable, but she manages to hide it well and keep herself on track. The more he pays attention, the sooner she can get herself out of this and never have to do it again. “Ready to learn,” he tells her.

“Now when you’re doing this, you can get more leverage if you straddle his waist.” She says this like it’s a foregone assumption that she would never dare to sit on Bucky’s waist, and Steve is sure she doesn’t notice the grumpy huff of breath Bucky gives.

“Right,” Steve says, pained. “Okay, so where are the bad spots again?”

“Put your hand here.” She takes his hand again and places it just to the left of Bucky’s spine at the level of his shoulder blade. “Slide your fingers out. There. Feel that difference? Feel how it changes when you move out to just … there?” She guides his fingers, and Steve nods. 

“Y-yeah.” Mostly, he’s just thinking about how nice Mary’s warm, oiled, tiny hand feels guiding his hand around. “Yeah.”

“The trap’s on top, but there are other muscles underneath of this one, and that differentiation you feel is where the rhomboid is ending and the—”

She keeps talking, and Steve tries to pay attention and learn, he really does. But his mind is a veritable sieve, for how well he retains the information. It’s all in one ear and out the other, ninety percent of his attention stuck on Mary’s hands on him, guiding him, pressing on his fingers and gliding his touch over Bucky’s skin. Fuck, how did they wind up here? 

Eventually, having taught Steve the basics, Mary lets him go and works on Bucky’s shoulders for a little while more. For the most part it’s quiet, with Bucky making soft grunts of pain whenever she finds a new cluster of knotted muscle, and sighs of relief once she works them out. 

Her hands linger on Bucky’s mid back when she’s done. She doesn’t seem to know what to do. “Erm. Okay. I think … I think that’s it.”

When neither Bucky nor Steve says anything, she retreats on her own, getting off the bed and looking between Bucky’s prone form and Steve’s sorrowful expression. “So, kay. You can get up, if you want. Just move slowly.”

Bucky’s right hand gives her the thumbs up symbol, but the entire rest of his body doesn’t move. “Thanks Mare. Just give us a second. That was really good. Thank you. Thanks for teaching Steve.”

It’s the “Thanks for teaching Steve” that seems to do it. Mary’s expression firms up and she nods curtly, leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. Steve stays sitting on the bed next to Bucky in silence for a long minute, then says knowingly, “Got a boner?”

“Yep.”

*To anyone who's only ever had store bought, pre-packaged palmiers: I'm so sorry. Along with Madeleines, those should never be eaten more than a few hours max after they've been baked.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

🍵Consider tipping your friendly neighborhood starving artist smut author!

✍🏻Commissions: reach out via Tumblr DM or contact here

This has been a fill for:

@anyfandomdarkbingo

Card: sarahyellow / sarah-writes-stucky

Square N3: Body Swap

@matchat3a @bethexo07

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 36

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: we got that xmas hangover.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The living room is silent as you enter. Andy remains as he’s been, sitting at the corner of the couch, beer in hand as he stares at the television. Amber distracts herself with a hanging landscape on the wall, seemingly trying to disappear into that photographic world. Steve clears his throat as he follows you.

“Do you we have a truce?” The doctor asks.

He doesn’t get much of an answer. Andy slurps loudly from the neck of the bottle and Amber shrugs and grumbles. You hug yourself and stop at the end of the couch. Why can’t they get along? They both love you, don’t they?

“Bub,” Amber spins away from the framed picture, “were you going to show me your painting?”

“Oh, uh… yeah,” you rub your neck, cradling your elbow as you peek over at Andy. He stays transfixed by the television. It’s deliberate. He’s tuning you out. 

“Can I tag along?” Steve asks.

You nod and make yourself stand straight. You point them through the door before flitting through yourself and lead them down the hall. You sigh as you escape the tension of Andy’s silent sulking. 

You fumble with the garage door, you can feel the cold through the metal handle. You get it open and the light inside flicks on as the sensor triggers. You stand back and wait for them to go first.

Amber takes the lead, then Steve passes with a gentle smile, and you trail after them. They descend the few steps as their breath clouds visibly in the cold air. Your stomach flips as they turn their attention to the painting. They stop as they consider your work.

You near the edge of the easel and chew your lip, “do you like it?”

“Bub, it’s so good,” Amber claps her hands. “You did this all by yourself?”

You nod emphatically and smile. She marvels at the large canvas as Steve steps closer with narrowed eyes. His cheek dimples as he gives the pigment an inquisitive stare.

“How did you do this?” He asks breathlessly, “the feathers…” he raises his hand but doesn’t touch the canvas, “they look real.”

“Well, um, I just… did my best,” you sway back and forth, nearly squealing in delight. 

You step away from the easel and turn to take in your work. A few days ago, you wanted to paint over it all but now, you wouldn’t dare change a stroke. It really is nice. And you did all that!

“It has personality,” Steve continues, “I can tell you made it for Andy… it looks a bit angry.” Steve chuckles and you give him a sheepish look, brows rising high, “not in a bad way. 

“It’s cold out here,” Andy startles you as he stands at the top of the stares, filling the doorway with his tall figure.

“Not that bad,” Amber rubs her hands together. “Colder outside.”

Andy sighs and rolls his eyes, “not arguing, just saying.”

Steve sniffs, “we’ll come in soon. We’re just admiring the art.” He brings his hand to his chin, tapping it thoughtfully, “what are your rates?”

You look at him in surprise as Andy lets out a ‘huh’.

“Might want something small for the office,” he muses, “I know they’re kinda plain but I always thought nightingales were pretty.”

“I like nightingales,” you chirp.

“That sounds like a fun project,” Amber encourages.

You still feel a bit cloudy but your heart swells happily. A new project is always a new adventure. In the back of your mind, you think it's a good distraction. You glance back at Andy as he glowers.

“I should have time since I’m all done this,” you say.

“I’ll be more than happy to compensate you for that time,” Steve assures, “do you offer lessons? I always wanted to get into painting. I recommend it to so many patients, I might just take my own advice.”

“I’m… oh, I could…”

“You don’t need to make up your mind now,” he crosses one arm, cradling and elbow as he stretches his other hand wide, “I’m thinking out loud.” He shudders and wiggles his shoulders, “brr, it is cold out here.”

“Let’s go warm up with some tea,” Amber suggests as she pats your back, “huh? Tea always helps.”

“Sure,” you walk beside her toward the door.

Andy looms as you approach, not backing up until you get to the top of the steps, Amber just behind you. He inches away, stern as he watches you pass. He doesn’t move until Steve comes inside and he reaches to slam the door behind him.

“Don’t wanna leave that open,” he mutters, “heat bill’s high enough.”

🕊️

Amber lingers at the door. Steve stands behind her, neither eager to be away. Your sister clings to your hand, swinging your arms between you. You see the worry in her smile.

“I’ll miss you, bub,” she says, squeezing your hand.

“Miss you too,” you eke out, “you could come back again. Maybe tomorrow?”

She hesitates and glances past you to the doorway. Her lips slant, “yeah, that’d be nice. Or maybe… you can come visit.”

“Oh,” you blink, surprised by the offer. You hadn’t thought of going home; to her house. You were too afraid to invite yourself, “maybe. That’d be nice.”

“I still have all your things, you know? You could grab some stuff,” she offers.

“Sure, I… yeah,” you pull your hand from hers, twiddling your fingers. What about now? You don’t ask but you want to as you hear Andy in the next room.

“Have a good night,” she croaks and pulls you into a hug. It’s so tight, you can’t breathe, “please… be careful.”

“Amb,” you touch her side, “I’m okay.”

“I know,” she holds you close and rocks you, “I know, you’re strong.” She parts and keeps you at arm’s length, “you can call me. Any time, you know?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle, “Amb, really…”

“Make sure you call my office too,” Steve intones as he steps up behind her, “should get a time in before next weekend.”

“Alright,” you chew your lip, “I’ll… call. Both of you. Promise.”

“You better,” Amber’s lips quiver, “please, I… I worry.”

“I will,” you avow firmly, “okay?”

“It’s late,” Steve touches her shoulder, “we’re all tired.”

You clutch your hands together, sinking your nails into your skin as you squeeze tight. You’d been so happy to see Amber, the thought of her leaving hadn’t even crossed your mind. Now the reality of it hits you like a bus. You can go with her.

Andy coughs from the other room. Your hope dissolves and you make yourself smile. You should stay, make sure he’s okay. After all he’s done for you, you owe it to him.

“Good night,” you squeak.

“Night, bub,” Amber says, “love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“See ya,” Steve waves over her shoulder as he pulls open the door, “get some sleep. Oh, and drink water.”

“Thanks,” you murmur and come forward as they sidle out the door.

You hesitantly shut the door in their stead and lock it. You stay and watch them leave through the window. The headlights of the car flash as it chirps and their doors open and close sharply. As long as the day’s been, it’s not over yet.

You shiver as cool air wafts up from under the door. You back up, crossing your arms, and turn slowly to face the empty house. You take careful but uncertain steps down the hall and stop at the threshold of the front room. 

Andy’s head leans against the back of the couch as a sports recap shows plays on the television. You inch closer and peek around the side as you approach. His eyes are closed as his arm drapes over the armrest.

You ponder leaving him there. You’re tired and you’re starting to feel a bit sick to your stomach. The wine coats your stomach sourly and rises in acrid belches. You stand stuck in indecision. You could lie and say he wouldn’t wake up.

“They gone?” He startles you with the question.

You nod and gulp. His head drifts over and he looks at you, expression drawn with discontent. You pick your thumbnail and bounce on your heels.

“Amber helped me clean up,” you say, “so… we can go to bed. It’s late–”

“It’s nine,” he stretches his arm out, “come here.”

He latches onto you, pulling your arm up, trailing his hand down to your wrist. He guides you around the front of the couch as he sits forward. He lures you in as his beer-laced breath tinges your nose.

“I’m tired,” you take his hand in both of yours, “we should lay down–”

“We don’t have to go to bed,” he insists.

“I want to, Andy, please? My head hurts–”

“Because you drank too much wine,” he reproaches, “who’s fault is that?”

You wince and your eyes flick over to the empty bottle on the end table, then back to him. He sighs and curls his lip, “beer isn’t as strong as wine, did you know that? Hmm? Of course you don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I…” you quaver, “I’m trying–”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he sneers, “to embarrass me.”

“What?”

“All day. Humiliating. You chose everyone but me. You hurt me, dove.”

“No, I wasn’t– I didn’t–”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head and looks away, “you said you love me but I think you’re lying to me.”

“What?” You pout.

“Just like you did with Amber. You’re using me,” he accuses.

“No.”

“Then what are you doing, huh? Dove,” he reaches forward and frames your waist, pulling you in as he slides to the front of the cushion, “if you love me, prove it.”

You bat your lashes as your mouth falls open. You don’t understand. You did everything he wanted all day. You cooked, you cleaned, and you tried to spend time with him but he pushed everyone away. Somehow it’s all your fault again.

He runs his hand up your arm and tickles your neck. He holds your chin between his thumb and index as he stares you down. You surrender. You’re too tired to fight. You lean in and kiss him.

The taste of him makes you sick. It’s wheaty and alcoholic, not as sweet as the wine. His arm hooks around you as he pulls you against him. You press your hands to his chest. His hand dips down your back and he gropes your ass, purring into your mouth.

His touch wanders further and he bends your leg, lifting it over his as his other hand travels down to mirror the movement. He urges you into his lap as he leans back. You part from his lips, straddling him awkwardly as you keep your hands flat to his chest.

“Andy,” you babble, “please, let’s go to bed–”

“We’ll stay here,” he reaches to grab the back of your head, yanking you close. Your arms bend but you keep your lips away from his, “what’s your problem?”

“Andy, please,” your stomach swims violently, “I don’t feel good.”

“You’re fucking drunk,” he slurs, “of course you don’t feel good.”

“Let me go,” you wriggle on top of him.

“What does it fucking matter?” He hisses, “you can lay on your back and do your duty.”

You flinch and slap his chest with one hand, “that’s mean. Andy, let me–”

You yipe as suddenly you’re scooped up and swept onto your back. The impact on the cushion knocks the air out of your chest as Andy quickly puts himself over you. His hand goes to your neck as he holds you down, pinning you as he lays between your open legs.

“Andy,” you beg as you grasp his thick arm, “you’re scaring me.”

“I just want a kiss,” he growls.

You close your eyes as he leans in again. You let him kiss you. He smothers you with the sticky lips as you squirm. A kiss isn’t much. A kiss won’t last long.

His knees shift as he raises himself slightly. Your heart leaps. His other hand creeps along the short hem of your dress and he tickles your thigh. Your stuck splayed beneath him as you writhe. He feels along the lacy edge of your panties and you whimper into his mouth.

You hit his shoulders as you try to push him away. You turn your head and gulp in air, “Andy, please, get off.”

“Baby, I need you,” he nuzzles your temple as he tugs aside your panties, “please, I’ve been waiting all day.”

Your chest pounds and your ears ring. You shove him helplessly as your chest racks painfully. No, no, no. The word echoes in your head. ‘You can tell them no…’

You ball your hands and hit Andy harder, “no!” You shout, “Andy, no! I don’t want it. I don’t want you!”

He ignores you, nibbling on your ear as he roughly jams his fingers between your folds. You squeal as your breath hitches. You can hardly puff it out as your heart hammers faster and faster. 

“No, no, no…” you chant as you struggle beneath him, “no, get off… no, no…”

You reach above you and grab onto the arm rest. He hardly notices as he touches you, violates you. His fingers slip along your entrance, poking you dryly as you whine and plead. You grunt and pull yourself up with all your strength. You manage to drag yourself up only a few inches.

“Dove,” he snarls as he lifts head, his fingers delving into your cunt, “be good—”

You swing your elbow down. Not a thought, not a doubt stops you from cracking the pointed bone across his head. You’re not thinking, you’re too scared for that. His hand slips from between your legs as he cries out and cradles his head.

You wriggle under him, kicking and flailing until you slip free, falling heavily onto the floor. Your skirt is around your waist as your panties cling in the crease of your leg. You pant wildly as you crawl away from the couch, trying to get as far as you can.

You stop only as you hear a strange noise. You look back, sitting on your knees as you fold your hands to your chest, trying to calm the swell of fear. Andy stays on the couch, folded over as he holds his face. His body shakes as he sobs.

“Dove,” he croaks and sniffs, “how could you?” He slowly pushes himself up, a hand over his eye, “you hurt me. Why would you do that?”

You flutter your lashes as the pain in his voice stabs deep into your heart. You didn’t mean to hurt him, you never wanted to hurt anyone. But you were afraid and he wouldn’t stop. You just wanted him to stop.

“I– I said— no…” you eke out.

He bends forward, holding his head as he curls his shoulders. He looks small and weak. You shakily get your feet under you and stand. He wipes away tears as he hides his face from you. As you come close, you reach to touch him and he recoils.

“Andy, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t touch me,” he swats you away, “don’t—” He looks up at you, his blue eyes swirling with fear, “dove…” his lip trembles, “you’re scaring me.”

You rip your hand back and grip your wrist against your chest. You back up as if you’ve been struck. You? Scaring him? But… 

He stands, watching you as if you might lunge. His shoulders stay rounded and hunched as he staggers, his hand still on one side of his face as he whimpers in pain. You reach your hand out and he winces again.

“Stay away,” he holds out an arm to shield himself, “dove, please, don’t hurt me again.”

He backs up, his gait uneven, almost stunned. He drags himself around the couch, sniffling loudly as he warily passes through the doorway. You look down at your hands, the throbbing still in your elbow from hitting him. You… hit him.

[justmystyles]

hi so i have a request!! i’m going thru a bit of a rough time lately, and i was wondering if you could do a fic where reader is scared she’s going to relapse and harry comes home and helps her emotionally a lil bit? thank you so much, i’m so so so so sorry if this is too much

Road to Recovery

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of eating disorders and bullying.

summary: after reading some negative comments about yourself, you nearly spiral back into old habits. you try to keep it from Harry, but he finds out and confronts you about it.

a/n: thank yo so much for reaching out, my friend. i am so sorry that you're going through a rough patch right now. i'm thinking of you and sending positive vibes your way. i am here for anything you may need, and i hope that this fic helps bring you come comfort. you didn't specify what kind of relapse, so i took some liberties.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Stepping out of the car now ;)

As soon as you see the text from Harry, you grab the remote and switch on E!, waiting for him to come up on screen. 

It was the night of the Grammy awards, and Harry was about to walk the red carpet. The two of you had been seeing each other for a few months, but because of Harry’s desire to keep his personal life to himself, and your discomfort being in the spotlight, you both agreed that you would watch from the hotel, and he would come straight back to you after the show so the two of you could have your own private after-party.

Harry had stopped for a brief interview, you were pretty sure it was only because he knew you were watching, before continuing down the carpet and heading inside. You watched and listened as the interviewer gushed to him about his album, and wished him luck on his nominations. They then cut to the panelist who were raving about the suit he had worn, that you had helped him select. 

Once they had moved on, you pulled out your phone and headed to social media to see what the fans were saying. It was great that the talking heads liked it, but you knew that the opinions of his fans were the most important. You scrolled through comments full of praise, loving the suit, the cut, his hair, and just overall thirsting for your boyfriend. Even though you weren’t public with your relationship, it still felt good to know that you had something, or rather someone, that so many other people wanted. 

Then, another tweet caught your eye. 

See, they’re obviously not together. She would be there. 

Even though Harry didn’t speak openly about your relationship, there had been plenty of paparazzi and fan pictures of the two of you out and about, causing the inevitable speculation. You knew for your own sanity you should just move on, but you couldn’t help but click on it, and read some of the replies. 

She probably couldn’t find a dress to fit her fat ass. 

I told you guys they were just friends. He can do so much better than her! 

Before long, you could feel the hot wet sensation of tears streaming down your cheeks. This was why you shouldn’t have looked. While most of Harry’s fans were good people, and practiced what he preached by treating people with kindness, there was a faction that were just plain mean. Maybe it was jealousy that they couldn’t be in your position, maybe it was their own issues and insecurities, maybe it was all of the above. Whatever it was, it hurt. Especially because of your past. 

Growing up was a tough time for you, you were the biggest girl in your class, and your peers wouldn’t let you forget it. During the summer break going into your senior year, you decided you wanted to go out of high school with a bang, so you began your weight loss journey. It started out perfectly fine, you joined a gym and watched what you ate, cutting out fast food, and halving your typical portions of sweets. 

Things were going well, and you lost quite a bit of weight in the first few months. When you returned to school in the fall, you received compliments from students and teachers alike, telling you how good you looked. The compliments made you feel really good, and encouraged you on your journey.

And then you hit your plateau. 

It’s a common occurrence when someone starts changing their activity and eating habits. The weight comes off easily at first, your body is adjusting to major changes. The increased activity changes your metabolism and calories burn off easier. However, as your body acclimates to your new lifestyle, it slows down the changes. When you noticed the numbers on the scale moving less, if at all, and the compliments dying down, you wanted so badly to get back to that place. You resorted to drastic, and unhealthy changes. 

You began by doubling up on your workouts, going to the gym for an hour before school, and then another hour after. Then, you cut back even further on your food; it started by skipping breakfast, telling your parents you would just grab something on the way to school; and then the other meals quickly followed. 

You would tell your parents that you were still full from the lunch that you didn’t eat, or that you had gone out to eat with friends after school, but they started to catch on quickly. They began monitoring you and making sure you were eating, and that’s when the binging and purging began. Sure, they could sit there and make sure you cleaned your plate, but they couldn’t follow you around all the time to make sure you kept the food down. 

You were able to keep that up for a few weeks, but eventually they caught on, and after an emotional confrontation you agreed to seek treatment. They didn’t want you to miss out on your senior year, so they found you an outpatient facility that was able to work around your schedule. You got set up with a healthy eating plan, which caused a lot of the weight that you had lost to come back. But with the help of some really great doctors, you learned to be okay with that. Okay with you. 

Then you started dating one of the biggest stars in the world. 

You had told Harry about your past pretty early on into your relationship. He was even more supportive and sweet about it than you expected him to be, and that’s saying a lot. He would make sure you were eating, but not baby you about it. When he would go for a run or workout, he would invite you along, supporting your decision whether or not you joined him. And when you had the conversation about keeping your relationship private, he made sure you understood that it had nothing to do with you, and he was so happy and proud to have you as his girlfriend. 

But pictures started getting out, and the internet started speculating and talking about you. Harry and his team were the first to see it, and he knew what kind of damage this could do to you. When he sat you down to talk to you about what was going on, he couldn’t help but break down into tears, blaming himself for everything that they were saying. You comforted him and assured him that it wasn’t his fault. That you had dealt with bullies your whole life, and there wasn’t much damage a few faceless, nameless avatars on a screen could do to you. You had always been really good at pretending to be stronger than you were. 

Without thinking, you moved to the phone that was on the end table and called down to the kitchen, ordering an obscene amount of food. None of it healthy. You cried as you waited for it to be delivered, calming down enough to answer the door and accept the food. The bellboy laid everything out on one of the tables for you before accepting your tip and going on his way. 

You looked at everything laid out in front of you, cheeseburgers, pizza, french fries, cakes, ice creams, you ordered it all. Sure, you would indulge from time to time, but always responsibly. You hadn’t gorged yourself like this for years. 

Your mind was racing, it was like a scene in a movie, there was a devil on one shoulder telling you to just go for it. If all these people were going to comment on you, you might as well give them something to comment about. On the other shoulder, an angel reminding you that you’d been doing so well for so long. That those people on the internet didn’t matter. What you think matters, what Harry thinks matters. 

You collapse into a nearby chair, breaking out into sobs. Angry with yourself for folding so easily after being so strong for so long. The angel wins, and you don’t eat any of it. Instead, you decide to clear it all out and hide the evidence before Harry gets back. You don’t like keeping things from him, but you didn’t do it, so he would just get upset and worried over nothing. 

*****

A few days later, you and Harry are relaxing in his London home when he excuses himself to take a call from Jeff. When he returned, he had a worried look on his face. 

“Everything okay?” You asked. 

He took a seat beside you, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure.” He looked at you, his expression serious. “I need to ask you something, and I want an honest answer. You’re not in trouble. I just want to know.” 

You furrowed your brow. “Okay.” 

“The night of the Grammys, did you order a bunch of room service?” 

“Oh,” your voice is quiet as you slouch down. “I uh… yeah, I might have ordered a couple of things.” 

“Y/N, Jeff saw the itemized bill. It wasn’t just a couple of things.” He grabbed your hands. “I’m not mad, baby but if something’s going on I want to know so I can help you.” 

You let out a shuttered breath before your tears began to fall. Harry immediately wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, letting you cry. He knew this was an important conversation, so he was willing to take as much time as you needed. 

Eventually, you had calmed yourself enough to speak. You pulled back, looking down at your hands, which were sitting in your lap. “I didn’t eat it, I had a moment of weakness and almost relapsed, but I couldn’t go through with it.” Your gaze flicked up to Harry’s quickly, and you could see the tears pooling in his eyes.  

“Baby, you should have called me. You know I would have been back there in a heartbeat.” 

“I know you would have,” you said. “But you were busy, I didn’t want to bother you.” 

A pained look flashed in his eyes. “You’re never a bother, you come before anything else. Especially if you’re hurting that much.” He placed his index finger under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. “Can I ask what triggered you?” 

“I was looking through social media, I wanted to see what everyone was saying about your outfit, and I may have stumbled across a couple of comments about me that weren’t very nice.” 

“Oh Y/N,” Harry pulled you close once again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” 

“No, it’s not.” You say sternly as you pull back. “And that’s why I didn’t tell you. Because I knew you’d blame yourself.” You place one hand on his cheek. “You don’t have any control over other people. And yes, they talk about me because I’m with you, but I’d rather have people talking about me and have you then have nobody talking about me, but also not have you.” 

“I understand.” Harry says with a nod. “But if we’re going to work, you can’t keep stuff like this from me. I want to be there for you for everything good and bad. I love you so much Y/N, I would do anything for you.” 

“I know.” 

“Then let me in, tell me when this stuff is going through your mind and let me be there to help you however I can.” You nod quietly. “Promise?” You nod again. “Words baby, I need your words.” 

“I promise.” 

He smiled softly and pulled you in for a lingering kiss. “Good. Now what do you want to do? Do you want to talk to someone?”

You stop for a minute, knowing that as hard as you’d been pushing them away, those feelings were still inside of you waiting to bubble up to the surface. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“Okay, then we’re going to find you someone.” He said with determination in his voice. “And I want to talk to them too.” You look at him curiously. “I’m not going to sit in with you all the time, but I would like to sit in for a session or two, just so I can learn how to best support you.” 

“Harry… that’s –”

“Is it okay?” He asks cautiously. “I don’t have to if it would make you uncomfortable.” 

You silence him by crashing your lips against his. You are so overwhelmed by his love for you, he wants to do whatever he can to help you, you’re his priority. You know that you will likely be fighting this battle for the rest of your life, but it makes it so much more bearable to know that you’re not fighting it alone. 

[penvisions]

garnish {chapter 5}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: A busy Friday night always has its ups and downs, but never this bad.

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: triggers associated with the food industry, workplace tension, language, argumentative dialogue, degrading language, power dynamics (due to job rankings), attempted assault, man on woman violence, shoving, pushing, non con touching, non con manhandling, mentions of eating disorder, vomiting, reader has a lot of panic attack symptoms, reader goes nonverbal for a moment, symptoms of shock, minor injuries, smoking, cigarettes, alcohol, alcohol consumption

A/N: i realize this chapter has a lot going on, i've tried to tag it appropriately, if i missed something please let me know and i can add or alter.

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

Tommy’s smile was bright as you approached, the hum of the dining room fading out as you looked from him to the young woman across from him.

“Well look who it is, the only girl brave enough to call Joel a meanie to his face!”

“At your service.” You tipped your head, going along with the banter from the jovial man. He had cleaned up rather nice, a dark button down and slacks in lieu of the plain t-shirt and jeans he had worn to the bar all those nights ago. “Chef sent this over.”

“Name’s Tommy, not sure if we actually got acquainted the other night in all the chaos. And this lovely young woman is my company for the night, Sarah.”

“Only because you had a reservation and dad would’ve killed you if you didn’t make it.” The young woman had the same dimple that Joel did, a decoration on the right cheek. Same furrowing brow, now aimed at her uncle across from her. She was beautiful, from the carefully arranged kinky hair atop her head to the caramel of her skin.

“It’s not my fault my date bailed.”

“Of course, of course.” She waved him off as smiled at you in a conspiratorial way, pulling you effortlessly into the conversation. One you weren’t too sure you even wanted to be a part of. There was a heavy weight that had settled in your chest, insecurity and anxiety such a familiar feeling as it flared. “My Uncle Tommy doesn’t have the best luck with the ladies.”

“You’re Chef Miller’s daughter?” You asked for confirmation as politely and professionally as you could, setting the wine glasses down in front of each of them. Introducing yourself as you watched her nod enthusiastically. While using the wine tool, you felt Tommy’s eyes rove over your expression, a collected smile on your lips as the feeling in your chest began to gnaw and move up into your throat. Nausea was rolling deep in your stomach, and you wanted nothing more than to excuse yourself. But you were a professional and had been tasked with delivering them their drinks.

Tommy must’ve clocked the slight shift in tone, definitely the way you referred to Joel. His smile faltered a little, but he was aware enough not to ask you anything too personal in present company. Hell, even in the restaurant setting, not wanting to cause a stir with whatever was going on with you.

“One and only!” She chirped as lifted her now full glass to her lips and took a sip. The saccharine sweet scent of the wine did not help to settle your stomach as you poured the appropriate serving into Tommy’s glass. “Well, by blood at least.”

You hadn’t responded, unsure of what to say. Not knowing what to say to the daughter of the man who had begun to fill the void in your life you had let form. So you fell back on the practiced skills that allowed you the job you did. You prattled on about the wine, from the notes that should be detectable to the perfect pairings on the menu that they could consider.

The universe seemed to take pity on you, because someone was sidling up next to you as you set the bottle of wine on the table. Millie placed a hand on your upper arm, leaning in to speak to you quietly.

“Need help on expo, Mary’s orders.” Her words were a blessing and you quickly excused yourself from the table.

“Appetizer for 38, chef.” Someone announced as a dish slid onto the expo line. Joel turned from where he was tending to a steak, keeping it braised with the butter that was browning in the pan alongside sprigs of rosemary.

“Run it.” His eyes locked with yours through the line.

“I’m here to expo, not run dishes.” You focused on wiping the edges of the dish with a towel, ensuring no sauce or herbs or fingerprints tarnished the ceramic. You double checked the hanging ticket and when it looked good to go you were calling out. You projected your voice, keeping it professional. “Can I get hands please?”

“You have hands.”

“I’m on expo, Mary said.”

“And I’m tellin’ you to run it, what’s your problem?” The cast iron skillet in his hand clunked to the burner, flat as he disengaged the flame, and turned his full attention on you.

“Think your daughter would like it if you brought the appetizer out, chef.” You shot back at him, aware that eyes were shifting from you both at the exchange as the servers flitted around grabbing refills for drinks and plates to preset tables. Something flickered behind his eyes, but he reigned it in as quickly as it appeared.

“Expo helps runs dishes.”

“I’m well aware of my job responsi-“

“Apparently not. The dish is dying. Run. It.”

Locked in a heated glare with the man across from you, the tension of the kitchen and the dining room and having to sneak around, of your professor coming back to the restaurant, to the feeling that you didn’t want to think about every time you saw the crinkle of his eyes when his lips pulled into a smile.

Chest hurting, panging in such a harsh way you felt your breathing begin to deepen. Full breaths expanding and exhaling visible moving your chest. His eyes softened the slightest bit but whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the dining room door opening with more force than necessary.

“I am so sorry! I thought Mary said to get you for expo, she said to get you back on the well and I run expo.”

“This needs hands.” Was all you said to the flustered girl before setting the towel down and rushing out of the kitchen.

“Somebody run the goddamn dish!” Joel’s raised voice had you picking up your pace and you tried not to burst through the door as you entered the dining room.

The bar was busy, a line of tickets stuck together where the printer didn’t tear them completely and they hung down to the floor mats at your feet. Making quick work of them and running them to their respective tables to help out the swamped looking servers, you were just about to the bar when you noticed that Joel was out in the dining room. He was standing beside table 38, with his family. As you passed by on the way back to the bar, you caught a snippet of their conversation.

“Congratulations, baby girl, I am so proud of you.” Joel leaned down to wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into his side as he stood beside her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, flattening the kinky curls there with the action. She swatted at him, though her easy laughter sounded in the air. Another young girl had joined them a beer you vaguely remember pouring in her grip. She was fairer skinned than the rest of them, but it was family, their dynamic too familiar and jovial with each other to be otherwise. You ignored the table completely as you passed it, pretending it was just another happy father and their child, a good evening to be surprised at work by family. The bathroom door slammed behind you and you beelined for the nearest stall and locked it with shaking hands.

You vomited the breakfast you had managed to eat and the bites of recipes you had tried while prepping earlier that day. Coughing as the acid burned in your throat, you tore far too many sheets from the toilet paper roll and raised them to wipe at your mouth. Breathing heavily through your nose, your chest felt tight, and the phantom feel of a man’s large hand on your back had you holding back sobs. Eyes stinging as you fought off tears, you tried to keep as quiet as possible as the bathroom door opened, and the click of heels could be heard from the newcomer. The scuff of boots on the tile signaled another.

“So who do you think it is? The old man could not stop smiling the other day and he does fuck all except work so it has to be somebody here.”

“I dunno, maybe another manager? Everyone here is so young.”

“Yeah, but age is just a number. You’re dating someone older.”

“But dad doesn’t know about that.” Her tone sounded vaguely threatening. But a cackle decorated the air and then giggles. The two girls dissolving into easy going laughter before exiting the room.

After making yourself presentable, you exited the bathroom and made your way back to the dining room. As soon as you were back behind the bar one of the girls who had been waiting for a date must’ve come to terms with being stood up, she was tracking a ride home on an open app on her phone. She waved at you to close out and you took the card from her offered hand, checking the way she was a little too loose in her movements.

“Hey, Mary!” You called out, seeing the woman walking along the length of the bar and helping to refill water glasses for the nearby tables. “I’m gonna run someone out for a ride pick up, that cool?”

“Of course, I’ll let the servers know there will be a wait for drinks.”

“Thanks.” A grateful smile and a signed receipt later, you found yourself waiting on the curb outside the front door with a chatty girl.

Someone was standing to the side, smoking a cigarette but the minimal light didn’t allow you much of a hint of who they were, probably just a patron waiting on a table or stepping away from dinner for a moment. Just as you were helping the girl into her ride, double checking that the person and car matched the description the person put out their cigarette. Making sure the car was driving safely through the parking lot you and taking a moment to enjoy the fresh air, you heard the steps of the person as they made their way back toward the entrance.

Suddenly a hand was grabbing you while another was ushering you away from the immediate front of the building, back by where they had been standing to smoke. They were too strong, causing you to stumble on your feet as you were swept away.

“Yo, what the actual fu-“

“You need to shut up.” Your blood turned cold, and you let out a shout as your back collided roughly with the brick of the building. The action caused the clip your hair was being held in to snap and break apart, the jagged pieced of plastic tangling in your hair and pressing into your scalp. Another shout pulled from your chest at the pain.

A hand was shoved over your mouth and you tried to kick out at the man in front of you and swipe your hands out at him, but he pressed the entirety of his body up against yours. Your nails caught on his figure, tangling in his jacket as you tried to push him away. His own hands yanked them free, breaking two of your nails in the process. Grunting in pain at the throbbing that stemmed from them against his hand.

Through the blood rushing in your ear and the blurry image of blonde hair clouding your vision you bite down as hard as you could on the palm of the hand against you. The man cursed, stepping back in his shock and you pushed at him again with everything you had.

He stumbled, the light catching his face and allowing you to see that it was the man from the bar all those nights ago.

“Fuck!” Your voice squeaked out as you rushed away from his reaching hands. You reached up and brushed what was left of your hair clip away, not wanting to draw attention to anything amiss as you neared the door, for once you were through the threshold. His steps and presence were heavy behind you but the second your hand gripped the handle for the door he seemed to collect himself.

Trying to keep a composed air about you, you weaved your way through the dining room, eyes focused solely on the swinging door that led into the kitchen. Everything was a silent hush around you, mind not picking up on the absent chatter of the dining room or the clinking of silverware as people continued their nights like normal. As soon as you were through the door, you let go of your composure.

You were rushing toward the office with quick steps, your heart beating painfully in your chest and your ears roaring with the sound of blood rushing. Ignoring the way Joel’s head followed you as you sped through the kitchen, you pushed through the way your skin felt like it was itching, too tight over your body. You reached for the closed handle and turned it, stepping inside without thinking and the door clicked behind you as you leaned back onto it. Your breathing was heavy, and your hands were shaking and when you looked up to see Mary in her desk chair, a bite of food frozen midway to her mouth you let out a stuttering gasp.

“Oh no, honey, what’s wrong?” Food forgotten, she stood up and ushered you into Joel’s chair beside her own.

The words you wanted to say wouldn’t come out, stuck in your still burning throat and you feared you would throw up again in the middle of the small office. The longer you tried to force the words, the more your chest hurt, the more strangled noises sounded into the air. Reaching up to lay a palm flat over your chest, you could feel the rapid pace your heart was beating at, and you just shook your head as your skin continued to feel too tight and your temple began to throb in time with your rapid pulse.

“Oh, oh gosh. Okay, just, honey please calm down.” Her hands were on her knees as she knelt down in front of you. She took your hands in her own, pausing slightly at the sight of your broken nails, and urged you gently, “Just breath, one deep breath for me okay?”

A knock on the door startled you so bad you nearly jumped out of the seat. The grip Mary had on your hands tightened as she watched your breathing take on a hurried staccato, her eyes holding so much worry as she looked over you before turned to face the door.

“What the hell is goin’ on? I got the barback running from expo because the lead server said there was a commotion at the bar and-“ Joel’s deep baritone was too loud in the small office as he hadn’t waited for an answer and shouldered his way through the now open door. His words cut off abruptly as he took in the scene before him. You couldn’t bear to look at him, too focused on not tipping over into full panic attack mode. 

“We have a bit of a situation, Joel.” Mary reached out and smoothed a hand down one of your arms, having picked up on the slight trembling your body was doing with the door open. “Please close the door, she’s overwhelmed.”

“What’s going on?” His voice was tempered, arms coming to cross over his broad chest. He was trying to take control of the situation, trying to figure out what had upset you so much you basically abandoned the bar. You could feel his eyes on you even as you kept your head down and gaze focused on your hands tangled up with Mary’s.

“I’m trying to figure that out, she’s frozen, can’t get any words out.”

“Spit it out.”

“Joel!”

“Well! She’s the one with the problem, so she’s the one who had to let us know.”

“Honey, please talk to us. You can tell us, we won’t judge you. Did something happen? Was it a customer?”

You shook your head, tears hot as they trailed down your cheeks. The spike of fear you had felt when the man had reached for you had you scrunching your eyes shut as you took a shuddering breath. Joel was there last time, he had helped you then. Wrestled the man to the bar top and away from you, it had been so easy for him. It wasn’t fair, you could only do so much, you didn’t have the same intimidation factor that Joel did merely existing.

You lifted your head and met Joel’s eyes, the brown dark in the way that displayed how angry he was, unsure of what was going on and falling back on his gruff nature. But your words softened them, something that flashed too quickly for anyone else to see.

“The man from the bar, he’s here.”

He was gone in the blink of an eye, steps loud as he stalked through the kitchen. The sound of the swinging door creaking on its hinges audible even in the office. If Mary thought anything of your words she didn’t let it show, focusing her attention on helping to calm you down. After a few moments, his steps could be heard as he made his way back to the office. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, face set in a scowl as he tried to process the situation.

“Did he touch you again?” Joel’s voice was dark, his words a dangerous thing that cradled a threat in every syllable. You shuddered as they washed over you, even if the sentiment wasn’t meant to be aimed at you, it was because of you. For you, he spoke with such ferocity.

You could only nod, unable to get any more words out. Mary’s hand tightened over your own before she stood.

“Joel, we need to call security and give them a description. I want whoever it is out of the restaurant. I know you’re the owner, but this-“

“I want him out, but I’m calling the cops. Not just security.” Thick fingers already digging his cell phone from a pants pocket. He brought it up to his ear as the line began to ring, having punched it in quickly.

“Everything is going to be okay, we’re going to keep you here in the office until the police get here and then one of us will take you home.” She was trying to continue to sooth you, but half her attention was on the phone in her hand as she contacted the security company employed by the restaurant. She was messaging them, letting them know there had been an attempted sexual assault on the premises.

Those words burned into your retinas, bright as if they were a neon sign even when you clenched your eyes shut. Joel’s steps were solid as he left the room, phone still to his ear as he waited on the line until officers arrived on site, wanting as clear communication as possible. He returned a few moments later with a steaming mug.

Mary detangled her fingers and let you know she was going to go and manage the front of house, to ensure that things were still running and let the girls know to not go outside on any breaks for the time being. Joel took up her abandoned seat, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down atop the desk.

Using his feet to maneuver the rolling chair closer to you, he carefully removed your hands from where you had begun to grip the fabric of your jeans. He molded them around the warm mug, his own around them and he just looked at you. His concerned eyes took in the way your hair was mused, no longer contained in the clip you had showed up to work in. The way your eyes were rimmed red, cheeks stained with tear tracks, the way you were trembling slightly, eyes unfocused as you stared at your lap. You wouldn’t raise your head to meet his gaze head on, no words were being spoken, it was…disconcerting to him to see you so locked up.

“Darlin’,” Was all he said as he raised the mug up toward your lips. “Please take a sip of this, it’s bone broth, it’ll help ease your nerves a little.”

You only intended to take the smallest sip to appease him and get him to back off, still mad about finding out he was a father and that he didn’t tell you his daughter would be coming to the restaurant. Sending you to her table without a thought in the world how you would feel or react to such a revelation. But the second the warm liquid washed over your tongue, you were taking consistent sips until the mug was empty and placed off to the side on the desk beside his phone.

He sat with you in silence, not sure what to say that would break the spell you were under, the shock you were under. He hadn’t seen this side of you, knew that everyone reacted to these things differently, that it wasn’t an easily overcome thing, if overcome at all. You wanted to reach out and take his hands in your own, to feel the warmth of him but you fought back the urge, the happy face of his daughter flashing in your minds eye.

You reached a hand up to press against a pain on the back of your neck, as soon as your fingers touched the skin there underneath your hairline, you hissed out a deep breath. Your hand came away bloodied, shaking as you looked at it with wide eyes. Joel was on his feet instantly, one hand cradling your face as he moved your hair carefully from your neck. You felt his warm exhalations on your shoulder as he leaned in, the faint scent of an earlier cigarette on his breath mixed with the spearmint gum he chewed while on the line. His fingers gently reached for something you couldn’t see, flinching slightly as something tugged at the back of your neck. In his hand was a broken shard of your hair clip, blood bright on the turquoise of it. Fresh tears welled up and blurred your vision as they fell over your lash line and over his hand still cradling your cheek.

“Fuck, you’ve got some pretty deep cuts back here. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“D-don’t call me that.”

Anything he was about to say was cut off as a voice trilled over the phone call still going on his phone.

“Mr. Miller, sir? Dispatch here, officers are pulling up right now.”

He removed his hands from you, a weird look about him as he moved to pick his phone back up, “Thank you, I’ll go meet them out front.”

“Will you-“

Nodding your head, you couldn’t bear to look up at him.  

“Okay.” He nodded at you, his eyes trying to catch yours to make sure but you had ducked your head again. He reached over to get the small first aid kit from where it was stashed atop the shelve over the desk. It wasn’t as stocked or official as the one in the kitchen, but it had stuff you could clean your injury with. “I’d offer to clean it, but I don’t want to push you. Please, at least drag some antiseptic over the back of your neck.”

The rest of the night was a blur, the restaurant closing two hours earlier than posted hours. Mary insisted on driving you home, some of the girls from the front of house parroting her offer. Joel had silenced them all with thanks for being so kind and willing to help, but as the owner and the one who was ultimately responsible for everyone’s safety. He put his proverbial foot down and said he would be making sure you got home safe. A good cover, you thought bitterly to yourself as he walked back into the office sans apron.

“Alright, Mary is gonna close up once everyone is finished cleaning. Do you have your keys? Figured I’d drive your truck so you have it there at your apartment. My brother can meet us there and bring me back for mine.”

He kept his distance as he walked with you toward the staff parking lot at the back of the restaurant. He was quiet as you stopped by the lockers to get your bag, his own on his shoulder he had swiped from the office. You had stayed there while the cops had talked with Joel, with Mary, to security. The man had been long gone, rushing away from the security guards that had quickly rounded the front of the building when you had shouted out. But they had been seconds too late and you paid the price. The cops had asked you for your statement, Joel standing behind you the whole time, providing details from the night at the bar as well.

The truck was silent as Joel held the door open for the passenger seat, making sure you were situated before he closed it as gently as he could. Once he adjusted the driver’s seat from your settings, he climbed in as well, the cab of the truck tense as he looked over at you and you looked out the window.  

“I’m sorry.” Your words were so low, a whisper barely heard over the running engine and hush of the other cars on the road.

“For what darlin’?” Not answering him right away, you reached into your bag and pulled out a cigarette, moving on to dig into your pockets for a lighter. You froze when you couldn’t find it, realizing it must’ve fallen out when… punching a finger to activate the lighter built into the dash you chanced a look over at him. He was focused on the road, his large hands around the steering wheel and his brow furrowed. His bottom lip looked a bit irritated, like he had been worrying at it with his teeth.

“All those reservations, all that business.” Was your quiet response, reaching for the lighter when it jutted out from the dash to signal that it was ready to use. You lifted it to the end of your cigarette, inhaling deep once the ember glow encompassed it. He looked over, but you had already turned toward the cracked window, watching the smoke billow out in wispy curls.

“I ain’t worried about a few hours lost. The most important thing is that you’re okay.” His fingers curled tighter around the steering wheel, you could hear the crinkling of the leather in the small space. He flicked the turn signal on and reached up to hit the gate control you had attached to the visor as your building came into view. It was easy enough for him to pull into one of the spots that ran parallel to the building. It was only two stories, four apartments on each floor. Two more exactly like it on either side within the secure gate. He watched it close completely before he turned the truck off, turning to face you.

“Look, about the table, it was supposed to be for Tommy and a date of his.”

Shaking your head, you made to open the door and get out. With a sigh, he followed suit, rounding the bed of the truck to hold the door open for you while you stepped out. With one last pull, you put out the spent cigarette and dropped it into the bed of the truck. Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, you began to walk across the small parking lot toward the outdoor stairs that led up to your apartment. Joel was behind you, your keys in his hand as he made sure the vehicle was locked, the beeping sound loud in the quiet of the early evening.

“I was going to tell you, it’s just-“ You watched as he opened the security door and then the front door, shouldering past him you dropped your bag on the couch underneath the window. The click of the security door deadbolt echoed between you, but all you felt was exhaustion being back in your space.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now, not – not tonight, please.” Walking away from where he stood just inside the door, into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He followed you further into the space, into the living room, closing the main door behind him, locking it to make sure your space was safe and sealed away from the world.

“Joel, I was so scared.” The words were a quiet confession as they left your lips on a shaky exhale, hands clenching at your sides as you tried to fight the urge to reach for him now that you were back in the living room beside him. He was so close already, but it wasn’t enough. You needed, no, wanted him to be the one to pull you for once, to let you know that he cared. You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling.

His arms were enveloping you, pulling you into his chest. He buried his face in your hair, and you could feel the way his own breath was shaky as you. You turned so your cheek was resting right over his strong heartbeat, a faint slightly delirious chuckle shaking your body before you were crying into his chest. His hold on you tightened and you reached your hands around him to hold him in return, hands digging into the fabric of his shirt at his sides.

You silently guided him towards your room, needing to get off your feet and melt into the full embrace of the man you were already entangled with. He followed you, kicking off his shoes to leave in the living room. He let go of his hold long enough to turn around and let you change without his eyes roving over you, not wanting to overstep anything. You were grateful, still too worked up to do much else other than hold each other. Once you were in a baggy shirt and a soft pair of sleep shorts, you reached your hands to grab ahold of the back of his shirt.

He turned around, the fabric twisting up, allowing you a flash of the dark trail of hair that ran from his belly button to disappear down below the belt holding up his work pants. Scrunching your nose at the idea of his dirty pants on your clean sheets, he ducked his head to make eye contact with you.

“What’s that lil bunny nose for, huh?” He boldly kissed the tip of your nose, pulling a surprised huff of laughter from you around soft sniffles as your fingers latched into his belt loops and weakly tugged at them. He made a sound deep in his chest, hands coming to wrap around your own. “Darlin’-“

“Just don’t want them on my sheets, that’s all.”

“Okay, only if you’re comfortable. That’s all I want right now, okay?”

You helped him, rather uselessly, to unbuckle the belt while he shucked the fabric down his legs. He stepped out of them, clad the clean shirt he had changed into at work and a pair of dark boxer briefs. He let you run your hands underneath his shirt and grab at him, he let you push your face back into his chest. And in return you let him wrap you back up in his arms and guide you to the bed. It took a few moments of shifting to get comfortable, but you ended up laying your upper half over his, his arms on your lower back and your legs tangled together where they stretched out. Your face was pressed into his neck, and you were sure he could feel the wetness of your lashes against his skin.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay, darlin’.”

He was reassuring you as much as he was himself.

previous chapter || next chapter

dividers by the lovely @saradika

[ashcal99]

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale II

Chapter Two

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn, blink and you'll miss it mention of eating disorder

Words: 5.1k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Sorry for the delay in posting, I just got back from vacation, so I'm hoping to get back to normal posting soon. THX x

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

January 25th, 2005

Jasper had stood there for a moment, mind cluttered with thoughts as he tried to make sense of what he had just seen. He had been there completely by chance. Everything had happened so quickly yet almost in slow motion. He had heard the van speeding down the road. Had seen Alice’s face as the vision had played throughout her mind. Had heard Edward yell out in anguish as he saw what Alice had seen as she was seeing it. Next thing he knew, they were in the hospital, trying to warn Carlisle of what had happened. 

In truth, he was a bit angry with Edward. Not as much as Rosalie, but still angry non the less. He understood that it would’ve been bad for everyone in that situation if the van would’ve crushed her. The blood itself would’ve been a huge issue for himself. But Edward saved her and in turn had exposed them all to the girl. In the end, he hoped Edward wouldn’t come to regret his actions. He hoped that they wouldn’t have to give up this life that they had built for themselves in Forks prematurely.

The whole group had been caught up in hushed conversation with Carlisle that he hadn’t even noticed her until the door had shut behind her. Then, all of a sudden, she was there, standing just outside of Carlisle’s office, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Anxiety radiated from her as she quickly turned, averting her gaze and walked down the hall away from the group. Clearly he had seen something that she hadn’t wanted him to, but what, he wasn’t sure. 

He had a clue of what it could be, but he needed to make sure before he jumped to any conclusions. He needed to talk to Edward, but he knew he would have to wait. He also would have to leave the hospital soon. His concentration was beginning to waver, and as much as he tried to stay as far away from the patient rooms, he could still smell the fresh blood. Alice could see this in his face, so she grabbed his hand and drug his stiff body back out into the parking lot, deciding that the rest of the family would have to find their own way home.

Alice sat in the driver’s seat weaving and winding down the long road that lead to their home. “Are you going to stay silent the whole ride?” She asked, trying the break the tension. 

Jasper let out a huff of air. “Do you know?” He asked, referring to the situation with Camila. It was eating him alive, not knowing. He hadn’t been so stressed in years, and the possibilities running through his mind were burning their way through his brain.

She nodded hesitantly. “I’ve seen it. After she came out of Carlisle’s office I had a vision of it.” She said. 

He looked out of his window to the trees rushing past. He knew from the look on Alice’s face that he was right in his suspicions, and his heart ached with this realization. “She’s sick.” He said simply. Not a question, but a statement. It made sense. This was why she was in Carlisle’s office. That alone meant that it was bad. Most likely terminal.

Alice let out a heavy sigh, knowing that it would be of little use to hide the rest from him now “Leukemia.” She stated simply. It hurt her to see her brother in pain, but this pain was inevitable. She had seen everything play out, and there was no going back now.

The word had stabbed him right in the heart. Suddenly, every little detail made sense. The scent of her blood, the bruises on her arms, her confusing emotions. His head fell into his hands. “Fuck.” He said, mind reeling. Sure, he barely knew the girl, but knowing she was dying hurt, and he was vaguely aware that it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.

Yes, he knew that she was only human, and even if she wanted to be friends, in the end she would leave and he would be left alone. But knowing she was dying was like he had been shot in the chest. He knew that there was no physical aliment that was causing it, but the pain in his heart felt so real in that moment.

He knew it would do little to help knowing, but he had to ask. “How long?” He murmured.

“Less than a year.” She answered stiffly, trying her best not to be too specific, not wanting to upset him further. “But that could change.” She said quickly. He looked up at her, hurt crossing his features. He knew that she didn’t mean it in a hurtful way, but he couldn’t bring himself to think of that future. He couldn’t hope for that. “I’ve seen that too. You loving her. Her loving you. It could work out, you know.” She reasoned.

Jasper scoffed frustratedly. The vampire next to him was his best friend. He would’ve thought that she would’ve known him better than that. “Alice. I’m not going to single handedly doom her to eternal damnation.” He said. It hurt immensely to think about that. To think about a future with her. He selfishly wanted that future, but he also knew that it wasn’t the easy way out for Camila. 

It would complicate everything for her, and he didn’t know if she would willingly make that gamble. She would lose her friends. Her family. Not only this, but she would have to live through knowing that they would mourn her death. Because that would be the only way. To let everyone think that she had died. So he shut that thought down, pushing that small glimpse of hope out of him mind.

——————

January 26th, 2005

Camila was thankful that Jasper had left by the time she had finished in the bathroom, relieved to avoid him for just a bit, to be able to figure out what she was going to tell him. In truth, she hadn’t come up with any excuses, and deep down she knew that she would end up begging him to keep her secret to himself by the end of it. 

Nerves settled in her chest as her mother’s mini van pulled up to the front of the school. Deep breaths. It would all be okay. She stepped out of the vehicle, sucking in a breath of cold air. As she made her way to the building, carefully avoiding the sheets of ice on the ground, all of a sudden, she felt a cold hand on the small of her back. Her feet slipped out from underneath her as the hand caught her mid fall.

She looked up, seeing the face of the one person she had been actively trying to avoid. Of course, just her luck. “Jesus. You scared me.” She said breathlessly.

Jasper looked at her, a playful smirk adorning his face. “Actually, my name is Jasper, darlin’.” He joked. There was that damn name again. That deep southern drawl that sent heat straight to her cheeks. 

Despite his joking, he was in a very serious mood. He was determined to have this conversation, not wanting to delay it any further. He had thought about it all night, and didn’t want to wait any longer. “Do you want to skip with me today?” He asked.

Camila looked over to him, anxious, but knowing that it was best to get this conversation over with and out of the way. She nodded lightly, allowing him to lead her back to his own car. 

They drove in silence, Camila looking out of the passenger window at the greenery blurring past. He had promised to go and buy her breakfast, wanting to ease her anxiety as much as he could. So they weaved their way through the small town to the only diner open at that time.

The tension was thick in the air between them as the car pulled in front of the small cafe. The anxiety radiating from her was beginning to put Jasper on edge as well, so as soon as the car was in park, he jumped out, rushing to her side to open the door for her. Silently, they made their way into the restaurant, sitting in at a small table in a far corner in attempts to find some sense of privacy.

They sat there for a moment, quiet, Camila fidgeting with her rings to distract herself. Jasper’s mind whirled with thoughts. He had so much time to think about what he would say to her, but now that she was sat there in front of him, he was lost for words. He didn’t know where to begin, so he decided to jump straight to the point. “So…” He trailed off awkwardly, Camila’s eyes refusing to meet his own. “You’re sick.” 

Camila finally looked up at him, her face void of any emotions. He had said it as a statement, not a question. She didn’t know if it was better of worse, him knowing already, but either way, he had figured it out and this was what she would be left to deal with. “It’s pretty pathetic. I couldn’t even keep that a secret for a week.” She said scoffing, looking down at her hands once again

Jasper’s eyebrows threaded together in confusion. “Why exactly did you want to keep that a secret?” He asked, trying to not be rude, but curiosity winning the fight.

Sadness began to spread from where she was seated, however, the blank expression remained. “People change when they know you’re dying.” She said simply, tears beginning to well in her eyes. “I’m sick of the sympathy, because that’s all they’ll give me.” She said, her eyes dropping back to the pealing lamination of the cafe’s menu. 

“I just want a normal life. Nothing spectacular, just normal, but that clearly isn’t in the cards for me anymore. Given the lack of longevity of my life, why would I want to spend the small remainder of it smothered by the pity of others? That’s far from normal, it’s fucking suffocating.” She rambled sniffling slightly as she shook the thoughts from her head. 

She refused to cry in front of him. She didn’t want to cry anymore. “Sorry.” She muttered, knowing it wasn’t fair to pour all of that out to him. But he had asked, so it was okay, right?

He sat there for a moment, debating whether or not he should manipulate her emotions. He hated the sight of her upset. He hated feeling the pain that she was feeling. Knowing how things that other people had put her through had left her hurting so bad. “Well, your secret is safe with me… and my family I guess.”  He said.

She looked over to him, not convinced of his words. “I promise, okay?…Look, we have our own secrets and we know first hand how important is to keep them.” He reassured. He knew it probably wasn’t the wisest thing to elude to their supernatural tendencies, but he really didn’t care anymore. If she found out, she found out. It made it that much easier to give her the option to live later on. If you could even call it living. 

Camila didn’t care to focus on what their secret could possibly be in that moment. She only cared about his promise and the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks.” She muttered softly, looking deep into his amber eyes. 

Jasper smiled gently. “It was never my secret to tell, Darlin’.” He said.

She let out a groan, burring her face in her hands as heat began to creep up her neck. “You and that damn word.” She chided.

He laughed lightly. “What? You don’t like it?” He asked teasingly, knowing from looking at her bright red cheeks that she did in fact like it. He had been so distracted from her reaction to his words that he hadn’t even noticed the waitress that was walking over to their table until she was only a few steps away.  He looked up, giving a small smile to the woman before turning his attention back to the blushing girl in front of him. 

The woman cleared her throat. “What can I get for you two?” She asked politely, as the burn in his throat intensified from her close proximity.

Vaguely, he was aware of Camila speaking, giving her order to the woman. His focus was weaning as he tried to concentrate on controlling his thirst. Only when Camila called his name did he shake away his thoughts. “Sorry, what?” He asked.

“What can I get you, sweetie?” The woman asked lightly. 

Jasper gulped, thinking things through quickly. Did he want to even try to put up a front of portraying a human? Alice’s words rang through his head. ‘Less than a year.’ She had said.And he decided, fuck it. He would be his most authentic self, and she would find out in her own time. “Nothing for me, thanks.” He answered politely.

His eyes landed back on Camila as the waitress let them know that she would put in her order, her footsteps slowly fading away. “You’re not getting anything?” Camila asked expectantly, feeling a bit awkward that she would be the only one eating. 

He smiled at her, biting back the urge to tell her his normal lies. “I don’t really eat.” He said, his eyes meeting hers.

She nodded slowly, she of course understood. After being diagnosed she had lost the majority of her appetite, not looking forward to the nausea that would follow after a large meal. However, the look of mischief in his eyes said more. Like she was missing the point of his words. Like there was some kind of inside joke and she found herself sinking deeper and deeper into his eyes. Then it hit her. “Your eyes.” She said suddenly. “They’re really dark. They were almost gold before.” 

He clenched his jaw slightly, pushing himself to not look away from her. The waitress’ blood had no doubt caused his eyes to darken in hunger, and he hoped it wouldn’t scare her away. But still, he pushed on, knowing that the more truth that he offered her the faster she would piece the puzzle together. The more time they would have together. No hiding. “They do that.” He stated. 

Camila sent him a small smile. Yet again there was that little voice in the back of her head, telling her that there was something more to his words. But she wouldn’t question it. Not today. Not when she was too busy being relieved that he had promised to keep her secret. “Thanks for the food.” She said, smile still lingering on her lips.

Jasper couldn’t help but beam back at her, only hoping that the sight of his teeth wouldn’t scare her away like he knew that they should. “Of course, Darlin'. Need to make sure you’re fed.” He said, smirking slightly as he heard the sputtering of her heart at that ‘damn word’ again. Yeah she definitely liked it. “And I thought it may help with the mental distress of this whole conversation.” He admitted.

She bit her lip bashfully at his words. Here she was thinking that was so skilled at hiding her emotions when apparently she had been wearing them on her sleeve the entire time. “So it was that obvious, huh?”

He snickered lightly. “The crippling anxiety? Yeah. I guess I’m just good at reading people, you could say.” He smirked, looking down from her eyes momentarily as he shifted slightly in his seat. It was going to take some getting used to, being so open about himself around a human when he was used to being closed off completely.

“Like an empath.”

His eyes shot back up to her as his mind reeled at her words. He wasn’t sure if she was serious or joking, but either way, he knew it was okay. The end goal was for her to know, so there was no use in panicking at what she had said. He swallowed thickly, pushing a smile back on his face. “Yeah… exactly like that.” 

——————

Unfortunately, as much as she wished that she could spend the whole day alone with Jasper, Camila knew that they would have to return to the school as they would be taking a biology field trip during the second half of the day. After a few hours of hogging the small table all to themselves, laughing, smiling, and just overall enjoying each other’s company, they knew it was time to leave, so they reluctantly returned to the car. 

She hadn’t exactly realized how long they had been gone until they pulled into the school parking lot, seeing the two school busses already parked in front. Students swarmed the busses as they murmured excitedly. Not for the field trip itself, but for the opportunity to miss the rest of their classes for the day. Parking, Camila quickly stepped out of the vehicle, trying to ignore the stares of others around them as they realized the two had been together off campus just minutes before.

Jasper fell in stride by her side as they joined the rest of the group. “Make sure I get your permission slips.” Mr Molina yelled over the crowd of students, ushering them onto the buses. Glancing over and seeing Alice watching expectantly, Jasper lead Camila over to her, knowing that she had expected him to introduce her officially to the human.

“Camila, this is my sister. She wanted to meet you officially.” He said, slightly agitated that his time alone with her had come to an end. 

Alice smiled brightly at the girl. “Hi, I’m Alice.” She said cheerfully as she pulled the girl in for a hug. Camila tried to hold back her shock as she slowly lifted her arms to reciprocate her hug. She wasn’t uncomfortable, in fact the hug was actually quite nice, but still a bit unexpected. To Camila’s surprise, the girls skin held no warmth, the coolness contracting nicely with her feverish body.

Jasper rolled his eyes at his adopted sister. “Alice.” He chided, slightly annoyed the display in front of him. He knew he had nothing to worry about when it came to Alice, but it still made him oddly jealous. “You’re going to smother her.” He mumbled irritatedly. He of course knew what Alice was doing. She had no doubt seen what he had been not so subtly trying to hint at and this hug was her way of helping him. Showing off the lack of warmth in her touch would be just another clue to the puzzle.

The immortal girl pulled away from the embrace finally, blinding smile still present. “Don’t worry Jazz, I can already see we’re going to be great friends.” She said cheerfully. “Now I’m going to go grab a seat by Edward, I’ll see you two there.” She said sending the two a wink before rushing off onto the bus.

Jasper sighed, turning to face the frail girl next to him. “Sorry about her she gets a bit… excited.” He said.

“It’s okay, she’s cute.” Camila said, snickering lightly. She really didn’t mind, even if the whole situation still weirded her out a bit. Alice was clearly a very sweet and genuine person, and if she was willing to be her friend, even knowing that Camila would die sooner rather than later, she would gladly grasp at that opportunity. 

She had plenty of friends in the past leave her because of her illness. The happiness had been sucked out of their friendships, the only thing the were able to focus on being her cancer. They treated her as if she couldn’t enjoy what little bit of her life she had left just because she knew it was ending. She didn’t want the constant sympathy anymore, the constant sadness and if Alice was willing to put herself in that situation knowingly, she could tell that they would become great friends. 

Jasper smiled, feeling her happiness and comfort. He was glad to see that she hadn’t become overwhelmed, although he should’ve known better than to doubt Alice. He should’ve known that she would say the exact right words. She always did. The smile didn’t waver from his face as he lead Camila onto the bus.  

——————

January 28th, 2005

The end of Camila’s first week had finally arrived. Exhaustion began to set in, luck being in store as lunch had finally arrived. Camila sat there at her usual table, trying to muster the strength and appetite to eat her food that was beginning to grow cold. Twirling the thin strands of pasta around her fork, she brought the bite to mouth and began to chew the unsavory food. Grimacing slightly, she resisted the urge to spit the mushed up pasta out. She needed the nutrients, she knew this, but that didn’t make it any easier to actually eat the food. 

Looking up from her tray, her eyes connected with Jasper’s. He gave her a small wave, the corners of his lips lifting slightly. The two hadn’t talked much since the impromptu cafe trip a few days previous, having been busy with their classes. She had seen him in calculus, as usual, but of course as always, by the end of the school day she was worn out and just ready for sleep. 

“Camila?” A voice said, abruptly breaking her gaze away from those Amber eyes. She looked to the owner expectantly, waiting for them to continue. “La Push, baby. You in?” Eric asked.

Her eyebrows quirked in question, not at all understanding what he was getting at. She looked over to Bella wondering if she understood. She looked just as confused. “Should I know what that means?” Bella asked Camila.

She laughed lightly, glad to see that she wasn’t the only one confused. “Your guess is as good as mine.” She answered, looking back to the boy for an explanation. 

“La Push beach, down on the Quileute rez. We’re all going tomorrow afternoon. Big swell coming in.” Mike explained. 

Eric beamed a bright smile. “And I don’t just surf the internet.” He joked lamely. Camila snickered, shaking her head in shame at the joke. 

Jessica scoffed. “Eric, you stood up once. On a foam board.” She clarified, rolling her eyes. 

“There’s whale watching, too. Come with.” Angela said, trying to convince the two girls to accompany the group on their trip. 

Eric nudged Camila on the shoulder, smile unwavering. “La Push, baby.” He said again.

Bella let out a groan. “I’ll go if you stop saying that.” She bargained, laughing lightly.

Eric smiled in success, turning back to Camila. “What about you Cam?” He asked.

Camila lulled it over in her mind. She knew that it probably wasn’t the best idea to go, considering that it was the middle of the winter in Washington, and most likely, her parents wouldn’t let her go even if she wanted to. She shook her head, an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry, I should probably stay home. I’ve got a bunch of homework to finish.” She lied, trying her best to sound believable.

Eric’s smile dropped at her words, a frown replacing it. “Awww, can’t you just do your homework later?” He pushed. She shook her head in response, giving an apologetic smile, slightly annoyed that he wouldn’t just take no for an answer.

Lunch dragged on as she slowly ate away at her food. The daily trip to the cafeteria was like a blessing and curse, she had thought. While it was great to get a brief break from the physical and mental exertion of the day, it also made it that much harder to seem normal to everyone else around her. Any other time, she would push off eating, usually having the best luck with taking supplement pills and drinking protein shakes, those making her the least nauseas. However, she knew that would look odd to her new friends. If she stuck to only those options, it would be only a matter of time before they noticed something was up. With her luck, they would think she had an eating disorder or something.

Finally, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. She pulled herself to a stand, as she grabbed her picked over food tray. She pushed her aching muscles forwards the cafeteria doors, dumping her tray into one of the awaiting trash cans when a tall dark silhouette rushed to her side. 

“Camila.” Tyler greeted, slinging an arm around her shoulders. The action caused pain to shoot down her spine and she had to bite her tongue in an attempt to stop herself from wincing. Tyler had made a point that week to be as friendly as possible, and even though more than just the pain of his action was making her uncomfortable, she didn’t want to come off rude. 

“Tyler.” She greeted back, trying her best to keep the grimace off of her face.  He was just being nice and friendly, that was all. 

“I was wondering.” He started, pausing for what she could only imagine was dramatic effect. “Prom?” He asked somewhat randomly, a wide grin spreading across his face. 

Camila’s mind reeled. Was that really how he was going to ask? She wouldn’t have said yes anyway, not being interested in going to prom at all, much less with Tyler Crowley, but that really was a terrible way of asking. She got along with him well, sure, but she didn’t want to date him. 

“Can’t.” She said, voice filled with fake regret. She tried to quickly come up with an excuse for her denial. She definitely couldn’t use homework again. “I… already have plans with someone. Not prom related.” She said awkwardly. 

The smile dropped from his face, disappointment replacing it, clear as day. “With who? You can’t reschedule? I mean it’s prom.” He tried to reason. 

Fuck. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Clearly, she wasn’t very good at coming up with excuses and clearly, these boys weren’t good at just taking no for an answer. A normal person would’ve just taken the rejection and left, but of course Tyler and Eric had to be persistent. She thought quickly of someone who she could explain the whole situation to the easiest. “Jasper. Do you know him?” She asked casually. Surely Jasper would understand why she had added him in on her scheme, especially since he had seemed so respectful in keeping her secret in tact previously. 

Tyler’s eyes widened slightly. “Jasper Hale? Yeah I know of him.” He said incredulously. What was she doing with that weirdo? He had seen the two together before the biology field trip, but had thought it was some weird fluke, but now she was scheduling dates with him? 

——————

“I didn’t know we had plans for prom night.” Jasper said casually once she had sat herself down at their shared table in calculus later that day.

She groaned at his words. How had he possibly heard? Did Tyler talk to him? Surely not. She knew the majority of the school would never willingly put themselves in a conversation with anyone from the family, since they usually seemed very intimidating. So that only left him hearing the conversation, and there was no way that had happened. She had seen him across the room, much too far away, when Tyler had came up to her. Maybe he had some kind of super hearing?

She pushed the rushing thoughts aside, trying not to get too caught up in the mystery. “Sorry.” She murmured. “I just needed an excuse out.” She reasoned. Jasper of course knew the reason that she had came up with the ‘date’ in the first place, but he did find himself slightly disappointed that she did not, in fact, want to go on a date with the ‘Cullen weirdo’. 

“It’s okay.” He reassured her, because it was okay. He knew that she didn’t mean it maliciously, just knowing that he knew the truth of why she couldn’t go. “Out of curiosity though, is it just because of you know what that you said no? Or would you have said yes otherwise?” He asked. 

He couldn’t help himself from asking. The question had been racing through his mind since lunch and he knew it was because of jealousy. That much was obvious, hell, he was jealous when Alice hugged her. However, he also knew that he had no right to be jealous. She in no way belonged to him, even if Alice had seen them together as mates. In reality, she didn’t owe him anything, and as much as it pained him to watch, if that’s how she wanted to spend the remainder of her life, he knew he would support her through it every step of the way.

Camila blushed lightly in embarrassment, causing the burn in his throat to intensify slightly. “Well, more than that, I guess.” She said. “Three reasons really. One, you know what. Two, he asked me in a terrible way and I’m not at all interested anyway. Three, no dating for me. It’s one of few rules I have for myself.” She murmured lowly, trying to keep her voice down so others wouldn’t hear her. 

His heart, if it had still been beating, would’ve leapt at the news that she didn’t not like Tyler in that way. However, almost immediately after, his chest ached for her. He could feel her sadness with the confession and it pained him to realize that she was afraid of growing too close to someone. He wanted to press the topic, to sooth her discomfort, but he knew that now was not the right time. 

Jasper sat up a bit straighter in his chair, an idea coming to mind. “Would you maybe want to hang out tomorrow? We could go somewhere or stay in, whatever you want.” He suggested, nerves filling his chest once more. 

As Camila sat there, mulling the invite over in her mind, she took note that the anxiety she had felt when invited to the beach, was nowhere to be seen. Jasper made her comfortable, and she wasn’t sure if that was because of him knowing her secret, or something else entirely. 

What she did know, is that she definitely wanted to get to know him more. To figure out what made him so different from the rest. To piece together all of the confusing details that he had shared with her.

She sucked in a breath and spoke. “I’d love to.”

Next Chapter

Tag List:

@itsmytimetoodream @jasper-the-beloved @parkchaeyoung1997 @bobaopal @izzyisstuff @soyeonrai @just-browsing101 @demirunner @dkbj14 @iloveramensm @imyelenasexual @bella7866 @ropickle

[neowinestainedress]

happier | lee haechan, lee jeno

title: happier (finale) | part two | masterlist

pairing: lee haechan x oc/fem reader, lee jeno x fem!oc/reader | side member: huang renjun

genre: song-fic, (light) angst, smut, fluff, lovers to exes to ?, friends to fwb to ? | requested and inspired by happier by olivia rodrigo (and 1 step forward, 3 steps back and favorite crime)

warnings: angst, implied past bullying and depression, one mention of vomiting but no mention of an eating disorder, smut, sex with multiple partners (not all together), protected and unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, semi-public sex, jealous ‘sex’ (not rough), thigh riding, mainly written from haechan’s pov.

summary: Haechan can’t live with the weight of losing her forever, he can live even less with the fear that she might be happier with Jeno. He wonders if he’s still in time to fix what he tore apart or if he’ll have to pay the price for what he did forever.

words: 20.600k

taglist: @thisbabydontstop @jaehyunsprincess @brightestmark @jellymoonbear @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @alalyahs @soobsfairy444 @hyuckscore @w3bqrl @rbf-aceu @liliansun @donutswithjaminthemiddle @champagne-n-yachts @kundann @kpopwh0r3

@bluegothsizzler @rllymark @reagiie @cherryblossom1818

a/n: can’t believe this series came to an end :( I’m sorry if I made you wait so long for this but I didn’t want to ruin everything by rushing it. Compared to the others it follows the song a bit less since there’s more plot. I hope you’ll like it, but I know there will be divided opinions about the ending so I’m curious to know your opinions! Let me know what you think with comments, reblogs or asks ♡ Also I’m not sure all the tags worked, it kept finding or not finding certain accounts based on where I put them, so I’m sorry if you’re not actually tagged, it did the same with the taglist in the masterlist and I don’t know what’s the problem.

It had been almost a year since they broke up and Haechan should’ve been the last one to feel this way. Yet, here he was. Broken. 

It had taken him time, too much time, to realize what he had lost and all the pain he had put her through, and now the guilt was eating him alive. 

Haechan truly thought he didn’t love her anymore. He thought that his heart was detached from everything that had happened between them and all she used to mean to him. But he was hit by the realization when she started to show up with their group of friends at Jeno’s side. 

It wasn’t even when Jeno started to drag her along again, his doubts started to creep in long before that. It was like Renjun got off seeing him suffer and loved to remind him every second how happy she was without him. His friend was smart, he never brought her up straightforwardly, not while he was talking directly to him. But Renjun kept saying how happy she was, how more beautiful she looked, how it looked like she had found peace. 

For a while, he thought Renjun was lying, that she couldn’t be happier without him. But apparently, she was. 

Haechan started to suspect something was going on between her and Jeno when his best friend started spending his day on the phone, always with a dumb smile on his face. And Haechan wanted to fight him so badly but he knew he had no right to get in between their happiness. 

Haechan had fucked it up. And there was nothing he could do to fix it. 

He could only sit in silence and try to don’t boil in anger every time she sat on top of Jeno when they hung out all together. 

“You okay?” He could hear Jeno whisper, his chin resting on her shoulder as he smiled at her. And Haechan felt a twinge in his chest when she looked down at him, nose scrunching up, smiling at him and telling him she was fine. 

That was his place. 

Or maybe not, because now that he thought about it, he never asked her if she was okay or if his friends were overwhelming. Now that he thought about it, he never let her sit on his lap, and caressed her hands, because he couldn’t stand being so close in front of his friend, too busy thinking about their judgment than thinking about loving her. 

Haechan couldn’t help but be tormented by them. She truly was shining, and Jeno was so sweet with her, he couldn’t stop wondering if she had forgotten about him and what had been between them. 

And when their eyes met for a second and he couldn’t see her familiar gaze anymore, he wondered; did it mean she forgot about him? 

And Jeno probably spent days telling her she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and that was what she deserved. But Haechan couldn’t stand the idea that she told the same to him. 

He couldn’t stand that she did the same things she used to do with him. 

She loved seeing Jeno dancing. From the stage, Haechan couldn’t help but look at her only to be disappointed because her attention wasn’t on him. 

And when the show ended she ran to Jeno and not to him. They didn’t kiss, not on the lips, at least, but the way she hugged him tight and kissed his cheek was enough to make his heart fall on the floor and let an elephant step on it. 

She complimented his smile way too much. And Haechan could only think about their evenings spent together, when she would lay on top of him and poke his cheeks, kissing his lips softly before telling him how much she loved his smile. He couldn’t believe that maybe she was doing the same with Jeno, that she was tangled up in someone’s bed and that was all his fault. 

Every time they were together it got a bit worse, they were always closer with each passing day. Physically with light touches. And mentally, finishing each other sentences, and laughing at the same jokes. 

It shouldn’t have fazed him, but Haechan felt his stomach twist every time. He hurt himself even more wondering how serious their story was getting. Was Jeno seducing her with the ‘eternal love bullshit’ he never believed in? Or were they just playing around? He didn’t think it was a way to make him jealous, but was it necessary to act like that in front of him? Acting as if he wasn’t there. Acting as if he never existed. 

And Haechan tried to find flaws in Jeno, trying to hate every good thing about his best friend just so that he could sleep at night. But he couldn’t find it, he knew him, and he could, unfortunately, see how happy Jeno made her. 

Haechan tried to hold back the bitter, disgusted grin on his lips every time he saw her laugh or smile at his words. He wondered if Jeno gave her butterflies, if Jeno made her feel a bit of what he made her feel, if her heart beat just as loud as it did when they were together and if she ever showed him her real laugh. But the more he cut them apart the more he only got one answer, an answer he didn’t like. 

Jeno gave her butterflies. 

Haechan tried to move on, find other girls after Bora — no, it didn’t work out because Bora wasn’t her, because she couldn’t get him, because she couldn’t understand him the way she did. 

And no other one-night stand could fill the void he felt in his chest. It wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about a brief sparkle of happiness. It was about love. It was about the person of his life, then one he lost because he put foolish things before her. 

Days started blending into nights as he tried to find another reason to wake up every day and move on with his life. He felt like shit, the bags under his eyes getting darker and his cheeks getting hollow as the food in his plate dimmed more and more. 

He was once again falling into the hole she got him out of. And he needed her. But not because he needed saving, not because he could leave her again once he was out of that, he needed her because he loved her. If things cracked in their last months together he realized that the so-called ‘freedom’ he wanted to have was nothing compared to having her. 

He thought he needed to mirror himself in somebody that was like him but he didn’t realize that the reflection in the mirror that was distorted and he couldn’t recognize anymore was his, and not hers. 

He needed to change. He needed to be better. He needed to grow. 

Because she was still there. 

With her comforting smiles. And her little clumsy dance steps. And her passion for history. And her flowy dresses she loved twirling around. 

She was his reason, not because he was crawling on the floor again, but because nobody else could ever take her place. 

So, he was getting on his knees, begging for forgiveness, low eyes staring down at the rug in front of her door because he couldn’t find the strength to see the disappointment in her eyes. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Her venous voice was enough to hurt him, to hit him straight into his heart like an arrow, not a Cupid one but a hate arrow, piercing him, making him bleed. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he confessed, voice so low she could barely hear what he was saying. 

“Do what?” She asked, staring at him, feeling her heart twist when he lifted his head and his eyes were red and glossy, and tears were streaking down his face. 

“I can’t be without you anymore.” 

She snorted before slamming the door close, but his hand was faster at blocking it, his broken eyes silently begging her for another chance. 

“Don’t,” she warned, glaring at him, voice cutting in her throat. 

“Please, please, just one more chance,” he begged, voice broken, lips shaking and she had to close her eyes because she wasn’t going to let him have so much power over her ever again. 

“I don’t need your crocodile tears, Haechan,” she replied, trying to push the door close, but he was stronger than her and she could only give up. 

“I’m honest, now. I lied to you enough, and look where it led us,” he said, staring into her eyes, showing her that he had never been more honest than this. 

“Quick, tell me what you want, and then leave.” 

“I want you back,” he said forwardly, and the look in her eyes should’ve made him take a step back, or maybe run away immediately, but he didn’t. Haechan could see she was mad, but he had to try. “I was an asshole. Now I know. I should’ve seen what I had when I had you. I should’ve paid you attention. I should’ve cherished you and yet I took you for granted.” 

“And that’s not my problem,” she replied sternly. 

“I was too dumb, I was so focused on me and my dreams that I forgot you were part of my dreams too.” 

“You’re only mad because I’m not yours anymore. You hate seeing me happy with someone else, you hate that I’m happier with Jeno than I’ve ever been happy with you.” 

His lips started shaking. “That’s not true,” he mumbled. “You’re not happier. I know you’re not. You can’t be happier with him.” 

“Why not?” She asked, daring him. “What have you done for me in the last year, Haechan? I was like a toy for you, sitting nicely on one of your shelves, covered in dust, and broken, and instead of taking care of me, instead of treating me right, you went and bought another toy. And what a shame, it turned out it didn’t work, too.” 

“It didn’t work because she wasn’t you, no one else will ever be you.” 

She sighed deeply, trying to push back the tears, Haechan could see she was close to crying, she would always squeeze her eyes and nervously pinch the skin on her hand, he never got why, though. “See, that’s the thing with you, you think everybody owes you something. You think you can come here, cry a little, scream about how special I was, and everything will go back to normal as if nothing happened.” 

“But —”

“No, let me talk,” she stopped him, tone stern, leaving no space to retort. “Being with you it’s a fucking roller coaster. It’s always one step forward and three steps back. I don’t know if you love me, want me, hate me, I don’t know. I have no idea what will strike a nerve and get you mad.” 

“I know what I want now, I know I want you,” he replied, trying to reach for her but she stepped back. 

“And have you wondered if you are the one that I want? You got me — you — fuck,” she cursed, clenching her fist, and throwing her head back. “You got me so fucked up in the head. You have no idea how much you made me doubt myself. I couldn’t see myself beautiful anymore, I hated my face, I hated my body. I thought I was unfunny. I thought I wasn’t smart. And,” she sighed, wiping away the tears that were rolling down her face. “I hate you, and I hate myself so much because I gave you so much power. I let you take away everything of me.” 

“I can fix it. I know you felt like shit too since we’ve broken up. I know you miss it. Please,” he begged. Even though he felt unworthy, and guilty for all the things he said and did. 

“It’s so easy for you,” she whispered. Going back in time hurt now, she was healing, slowly, but she was moving forward, and he was once again making her go back in the line of their story. “It’s back and forth with you. It’s a continuous push and pull that drove me insane. Every time wondering if I did something wrong, or maybe it was all your fault. But I never blamed you, I never thought that you were the problem in our story. I always blamed myself. And you have no idea how much that broke me.”

“No, I’ll do anything to prove to you how much I love you. I can mend your broken heart, I will give you mine if it’s what it would take to fix you.” 

She lowered her head, and he couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was biting her lip to stop the sobs from rolling out. 

“Remember what I promised you? What we promised each other? That we’d never part because we fit so well with each other and nobody else could come close to that.” 

She chuckled bitterly, “I wasn’t the one breaking that promise apart.” 

“I know, I’m not blaming you. It’s my fault, I was immature, I hurt you so bad. But I won’t do it again. I won’t break your heart again. I won’t make you feel like you’re not enough.” 

“I just don’t get it. You had me in the palm of your hand, Haechan. I was right there, I would’ve never left. All you had to do was stay by my side and love me, and you didn’t. You left me the second I wasn’t as interesting anymore, the second I felt like a habit, an old one that you hate. How can I be sure you won’t do it again? How can I be sure there won’t be another Bora?” 

“I’ll prove it to you. Test me. Do whatever you want.” 

She shook her head. “I don’t want us to become toxic,” she said. “I don’t want to truly be the psycho-obsessed girlfriend that you always believed I was, because I wasn’t, and I’m not. I need to trust you, and if I started doubting that, it was because you gave me a reason.” 

“Then how can I gain your trust again?” 

She sniffled, resting against the door, feeling too tired to do this anymore. She looked at him. She couldn’t give him another chance. 

“Work for it,” she replied weakly. “Prove me you care for me. Prove me you love me still. Do all the things you never did when we were together. Show me that you won’t turn to look at somebody else the first second I won’t be at my best.”

His eyes lit up, and he took a step forward but she stopped him. 

“We’re not back together, Haechan,” she said sternly. “You have to woo me. You need to make me fall in love again, because right now, I don’t love you anymore.” 

And those were the last words she said before closing the door, leaving him outside with the wind blowing on his face. 

I don’t love you anymore. 

That tore him apart. But if he made her fall once, he was going to make her fall twice.  

And Haechan didn’t waste time. 

The first thing that he did was send a bouquet of flowers to her place. He picked out her favorite flowers and also wrote a note with the lyrics of her favorite song. He wanted to give them to her, to see her reaction, but he decided to leave them out of her door, sure she would’ve loved the surprise after coming back from work. 

And it worked. 

She didn’t mean to be so happy about it but her heart flipped in her chest when she saw the flower lying there. 

Then one morning when she was leaving for work she found a heart-shaped package full of chocolate on her car and a small note saying ‘With the hope that your day will be just as sweet.’ 

“No, why am I smiling like this, damn,” she cursed, opening the car door to get in, trying to calm her heartbeat. She surely loved the attention and nothing else. Haechan was long gone in the past and this was just her revenge to make him believe that he had a chance of taking her back. So she dropped the chocolates in the backseat and drove off to work, hoping to leave him behind. 

But Haechan was firm. He had lost her once, he wasn’t going to make it happen twice. So he texted her a lot, telling her that a song on the radio reminded him of her, or sending her a video he found online sure that she was going to laugh, he even started sending her good morning and good night texts. 

Haechan wasn’t even hurt that sometimes she didn’t answer, at least she wasn’t blocking him so that had to be good news, right? She had told him he was under a test and he wasn’t going to fail. 

“Hi,” he cheered, waiting for her outside of work. 

“Jesus, you scared me,” she replied, holding a hand on her chest and taking a deep breath while glaring at him. “What are you doing here?” 

Haechan didn’t answer, he only lifted two tickets in his hands, waving them in front of her face. 

“What are those?” She asked, starting to walk to reach the metro, but Haechan pulled her back, hands reaching for her wrist before she could slip away. 

“There’s a Van Gogh exhibition in town. It’s for the 170 anniversary of his birth,” he explained, watching her eyes light up just hearing the name of the painter. She couldn’t say no, he was one of her top artists ever and she had told him countless times how badly she wanted to see his works. 

“That’s — that’s so unfair,” she muttered, hugging her body after pulling away from his hold. 

“You act as if I can infect you or something,” he replied annoyed. 

“I just don’t want you to get too close to me, I know you and your…” she sighed. “Don’t get your hopes high. I’m only coming because I’m selfish and I want to watch the exhibit.” 

But Haechan couldn’t care, it was a win for him anyway. He got to spend time with her and make her live an experience she wasn’t going to forget easily. 

“So you are in?” He still asked, eyes lighting up in anticipation, watching her lips twitch as usual when she tried to hide her excitement. 

“Yes, and let’s go before I change my mind.”  

He let out a little cheer of victory before turning around and starting to walk toward the right metro that would’ve let them to the exposition. Fighting the urge to reach for her hand was hard but he couldn’t risk it now with bold moves that would’ve only scared her away. 

“So, how was your day?” He asked, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, if they were physically restricted he couldn’t do anything dumb. 

“Good,” her answer was quick, almost stern if he wanted to look into it, and it made his heart clench. 

“Can we not?” He asked, glimpsing at her. Hair flying in the air, eyes slightly narrowed, forming a cute furrow on her face as she tried to don’t let the wind bother her sight. But her features weren’t relaxed only because of the weather, he could feel the negativity come out of her. 

“Do what?” 

“Your answer and you being so distant to me.” 

She sighed. “How can you expect any different? Try to appreciate I didn’t tell you to fuck off as soon as I saw you.” 

Haechan didn’t answer, it was better than nothing but it wasn’t what he wanted, and he probably liked the silence of his phone not buzzing back when he sent a text over the silence she was reserving for him now. So he kept quiet for the rest of the walk, trying to convince himself that it was better than nothing. It was better than nothing. 

“It’s interactive?” She asked when they entered the palace, skipping the line for the tickets since Haechan already bought them. 

“Partially,” he explained. “I hope you’ll like it anyway.” 

She only hummed, looking around to follow the signalled path and see the first paintings. 

It didn’t go exactly as Haechan planned, she was roaming around the room keeping her distance, admiring the artworks on her own, and the few times they ended up watching the same panting she would move to another. 

He hated it. 

But he tried to take the best of the experience, she was cute with her small furrow as she studied the details of the artwork, or when she tried to read the description at the side. And he couldn’t hide the smile on her face when she snapped pictures, even if it hurt when she asked some other to take one for her instead of reaching out for him.

“Can I ask you why you like him so much?” He asked, finally blocking her in front of Wheatfield with Crows, Van Gogh’s last painting. 

“Because he was lonely.”

He saw she was trying to find the words and waited for her patiently. 

“He had this type of pain inside of him that makes him so real. It was like nobody could read him, not even his closest friends or lovers. And yet his pain was all there, in his works.” 

“It’s sad.” 

“It’s sad that people never hear others’ cries for help, it’s sad that we can only stop at the surface and never get deeper. It’s so easy to say that the world and humanity are rotting now but things weren’t so different decades ago.” 

“I feel like you’re throwing shade at me.” 

She chuckled, shaking her head, “Is it shade or is it the honest truth? You stopped seeing into my pain and started calling me crazy, and only when you realized what you lost you crawled back to me. Maybe if you went beyond, if you listened to my cries for help, we wouldn’t look like complete strangers having awkward conversations now.” 

“What’s bugging you?” Jeno asked while he stared at her, she was swinging in the oval chair in his living room, looking outside, nervously chewing her nails, ruining the pink polish. 

“Nothing, just work,” she said, partially it was true. They had all graduated but she still felt lost, she had found a job in a museum and she liked it a lot, but she still didn’t know if she wanted to be a teacher or an academic researcher, both jobs required a lot and she felt inadequate. 

“Why don’t you come here and relax?” Jeno asked, patting the empty spot next to him on the couch. He felt there was something else going on. He had seen how she and Haechan seemed closer once again and he couldn’t help but feel paranoid. 

No, they weren’t dating. Not even if they spent so much time together, and their hands were always intertwined when they walked, not even if he often dropped her to work before going to his. Not even if her head rested against his shoulder when they watched tv. Not even if they stayed up all night to talk with each other. 

He knew he still didn’t have a place in her heart, he wondered if he ever would’ve had a place there. But he tried his best to make her happy. Being her friend still was something and he liked what they had, no matter how messy the whole situation was. 

“We could watch a movie, maybe it will keep your mind off it,” he proposed, smiling at her when she sat next to him, as always cuddling to his body. 

“Or we could talk,” she said, not even knowing why she was choosing such a risky path. Talking wasn’t her forte, especially if it was about love. 

“Sure, if it would make you feel better. So, what’s wrong?” 

She sighed, gulping before words came out of her mouth, “do you ever feel like… no matter what you do it will always be wrong? I’m not talking about fearing what people think, but what it will be of yourself, and your life. As if every choice could lead to a terrible mistake.” 

Jeno hummed, “Sometimes.” I felt like this when I spent nights up trying to decide if I should’ve talked to you or not. He didn’t say it, he tried to come up with another example, or something that wouldn’t have made her regret deciding to open up to him. “But I also think that when it feels like this we should follow our heart. Yes, it might end up tragically but at least there’s the chance we had fun along the way.” 

“Oh,” she whispered. “I never thought about it that way, but I guess it makes sense.” 

“It’s not about work, is it?” 

She bit her lip, shaking her head. “I mean, yes, it’s… it’s,” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “I just feel that in the last year everything went downhill, I make choices thinking I’ll be happy and then it never feels as good as I hope it would feel. I want to be happy, but it seems like I can’t reach the happiness I want.” 

He hummed, he wanted to ask if Haechan had something to do with it but he didn’t want to talk about him. He could see a part of her was still stuck there, in the past, and he reminded himself of that more than enough. 

“It takes time,” Jeno replied instead. “So many things in your life changed, you need to give yourself time to adjust to what came after.” 

“Yeah but it’s so different from what I imagined,” she replied, voice getting thinner as she pushed her tears back. “When I still went to Uni I knew the real world was going to be harsh but I always imagined I was going to have somebody by my side. And now, I’m alone. My house is emptier than it ever been, and…” my heart is emptier than it ever been “...and sometimes it gets so hard to wake up all alone and come home to four empty walls.” 

He pushed down the bitterness in his throat, where was he in all of this? “What about your friends?” 

“I love them, deeply. I love every single one of you so much, don’t get me wrong, but… this is not the life I imagined.” 

“Did you have plans… with him?” 

She snorted bitterly, shaking her head. “So many.” 

“Do them by yourself.” 

“What?” 

“Do what you wanted to do with him but by yourself, or with friends. Maybe it will make you feel like some of the life you expected can still be there. Start from what you can fix, not what you can’t.” Jeno reached out, caressing her hand. “Start brand new by threading what ripped in the past.”

She chuckled, “have you always been so wise?” 

Jeno playfully pushed her away, and shook his head. “It’s that I get you, I feel the same.” 

She sighed, nervously pulling the hangnails on her fingers, feet tapping the floor as her brain drifted away, trying to think quickly if she could do it, take the past and leave it where it belonged and open her arms to the future that seemed to be brighter. It was possible, she started to do it, but then Haechan came crashing down like a wrecking ball again and all the walls she started to build up again, fell apart. 

“I should do what you said,” she replied, words slipping out of her mouth even if her heart wasn’t so convinced about it. “I can do many things we had planned even if I don’t have him by my side and then I just need to trust myself walking on my own.” 

Jeno smiled, daring hand moving up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, thumb caressing her cheek, making her skin burn up. “You’re like a baby giraffe.” 

She laughed, “A baby giraffe?” 

“Yeah, you’ve never seen a video of them when they’re born? They walk so weirdly.” 

“Oh, that,” she replied, still giggling, “I’ll take that as a compliment, then.” 

He nodded, another bright smile curling his lips as he stared at her a little longer, “It is for me. I love giraffes.” 

Her smile dropped for a second at his words but she tried to mask it with a slightly fake one. It still didn’t remove the heavy weight she felt in her chest. She didn’t know if she could call what she felt for him love. Maybe it was infatuation, maybe she enjoyed his company. But love? It was still such a big word, and she felt so guilty. It had been six months now, and she was still making Jeno walk on a tightrope with her doubts and fears. She felt like shit, he deserved somebody that made up their mind, somebody that knew exactly what they wanted and she still didn’t know anything. 

“Should we do something, now?” Jeno proposed, bringing her out of her thoughts, sensing the shift in the air. 

“Yeah, I think it’s better.” 

The evening passed with no other awkward interactions, but it felt like something was slightly different. The touches between them that usually were normal, now felt like they brought a new electricity with them, as if something was pulling them closer, a connection that felt scary. 

And when Jeno asked her to stay, because it was late, and it was better if they ate something together and then he would’ve dropped her home, timidly touching her hand, she couldn’t say no. 

So they were there, on his couch, tangled up to each other, a bottle of soju at their feet as the sky got darker outside of the open window. 

“We should dance,” she proposed, surprising him as she stood up and searched for her phone to turn on the music. “Are you rejecting a proposal to dance?” She asked, dragging him up from the seat. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, chuckling to hide the awkwardness. 

“Why not? We make a quite great couple when we dance,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Sure, I’m not as good as you but you make it up for me.” 

So Jeno didn’t complain more, his hands wrapped around her waist and they started dancing, bodies swinging to the rhythm, and hands daring to be braver on each other. 

When their lips brushed, they were both surprised, but they didn’t pull away, they stayed there, eye to eye, silently waiting for one of them to make the first step. 

And Jeno was the one doing it. He leaned in again, fearing a slap that never came. Her body relaxed in his hold and before they knew, the kiss heated up. 

“Need you,” she whispered against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly.  

“You are drunk,” Jeno said, pulling away, and shaking his head. Probably telling those words more to himself. 

“I’m not, I can take a bottle of soju,” she replied, trying to reach for him but he walked away, giving her his back. 

“You don’t want me.” 

“What makes you think that?” She asked, now standing behind him, waiting for him to turn around. 

Jeno didn’t answer immediately, he only stared at her. He wanted her badly, so badly that he couldn’t describe it with words. 

“Are you going to regret this?” 

She shook her head. She never did anything like that before, but people always had random sex with people or friends, so what was so hard about it? Everything would’ve gone back to normal after, right? 

“I won’t.” 

Jeno was hesitant in his movements, every brush of his fingers made her shiver, she couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched, and even worst, she couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched like that. As if she was a precious diamond that would’ve broken. The last times with Haechan had been blurred memories, random quickies that felt like rushes to get off of a pleasure they were killing with each other just for morals. But this… this felt… different. 

“Look at me,” she whispered, lifting his chin up. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

Jeno bit his lips, humming before hardly swallowing the saliva. “I just… I don’t want to rush it. I don’t want to make you feel like I only care about sex. I…” he sighed. I like you a lot, maybe I even love you, if I feel masochistic enough. “I care about you and I think you deserve respect.” 

When her lips curled in a tender smile he cursed himself mentally, what a fucking loser. She surely wanted something different, something that felt like sex and not love, and here he was, being pathetic. 

“I know, I just wanted to check in we were both into this.” 

Jeno nodded, breath still shaking but he tried to hide it by kissing her again. “Should we take this to the bedroom?” 

The walk between the living room and his bedroom was a blackout with Jeno’s strong arms carrying her up to his bed while he never let go of the heated kiss. 

And everything that came after that felt like striking a new match. 

To her it felt all so different, the only man she ever had in her life being Haechan. But Jeno dreamed of this for so long, maybe not this, he at least tried to don’t think of her in those situations but he still wanted her nonetheless. And she wasn’t a dream anymore, or his best friend’s girlfriend he liked so much. She was his, at least partially, but partially was better than zero. 

“Jeno,” she moaned, fingers tangling in his hair when he moved between her legs and started eating her out. His hands were spread wide against the back of her thighs, pushing her legs apart to have better access to her most sensitive spot. 

“Feels good?” He mumbled against her, vibrations running in her lower abdomen, already making her stomach twitch in anticipation. 

“So good,” she cried out, throwing her head back, trapping her lips because somehow it felt embarrassing to be this loud with him. What if she let out strange sounds? What if she did something wrong? Maybe fucking with somebody you’re not that intimate with wasn’t that easy for everybody. But Jeno was still good enough to fog her doubts with pleasure. More than good enough to be honest, he knew what he was doing, skilled mouth taking care of her most sensitive parts, sucking and licking with precision. 

And she couldn’t help but loosen up a little, letting out soft whimpers and moving her hips against him to reach the high. 

It didn’t take long to reach it when Jeno was so good at it, and the way his light touches on her thighs and waist added to it, pleasure running under her skin with his every move. 

Jeno moved up, meeting her lips in a rougher kiss, his hands searching for hers. 

“Fuck,” she groaned when he pushed two fingers inside her, pumping slowly, barely giving her time to recover from the first orgasm. She wanted to talk but the words were dying in her throat, and she could only pant underneath his strong body and whimper muffled moans. 

“Wa-want you,” she moaned. “Please, Jeno. Need more,” she slurred when his fingers curled exactly where she needed them, pumping her wetness in and out with lewd sounds. 

“Are you sure you can take me?” 

She nodded swiftly, looking into his eyes, moving her head to kiss him again and again while whispering ‘please,’ through every kiss. 

Jeno pulled away and shuffled through his bedside table to look for a condom, ripping the wrap as soon as he grabbed it and rolling it on him swiftly. 

And in all that she studied every move, his muscles flexing, his skilled fingers rolling it down his lenght, and his eyes looking at her with intensity. 

He didn’t add any words when he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him before sinking into her wet walls. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyebrow knitting while her warmth wrapped around him. 

Her head rolled back, and her nails sunk into the bedsheets, feet planting on the mattress while her hips bucked up in reaction to being filled perfectly. 

“Are you okay?" 

She nodded, chuckling, “I’m fine, it’s not my first time," she giggled, caressing his face. “I won’t break." 

His hips started moving back and forth, speed increasing until he found the perfect rhythm, eyes fixated on her, from her face to her boobs heaving fast.  

“Don’t hold back,” he ordered with a deep tone, thumb crazing her lips to free them from the hold on her teeth. “I want to hear you. Is it good?” 

She nodded, humming. 

“Then don’t hide it, let me know — fuck — let me know I’m making you feel good.” 

Her lips parted, finally letting go of the real moans and whimpers she was holding back.

“Wanted you for so long,” he moaned, kissing her roughly, “you sound so pretty when you moan like this, fuck, keep — keep doing it.” 

A scream of his name came out of her mouth when he grabbed her ankles and rested them on his shoulders. “Shh, babe, you can take it.” 

She hummed, eyes closing again, the new position giving him the chance to move better and reach her sensitive spot better, bringing her close to the edge once again. 

“Feels good,” she cried, wrapping her hands around his neck before her nails ran down his back, leaving red marks. “I’m close...” 

“Fuck, I can feel you,” he moaned, leaning in to kiss her, “Come with me,” he hummed, hips moving faster while one of his hands reached down to stimulate her clit, giving her the last push she needed to come, triggering his orgasm too, their moans dying in each other’s mouth while they kept kissing messily. 

They stayed like that for a while before Jeno pulled out of her and rolled to the side, throwing the used condom in the bin next to the bed before turning around to kiss her again. 

“Can’t believe this happened,” he whispered, staring at her in awe, the afterglow of the orgasm still on her beautiful face. 

She smiled, turning to the side to move closer to him. “Neither can I,” she replied, caressing his arm, enjoying the way his fingers were doing the same on her back. It was a different sensation, but she liked it, she would’ve tried to stay up and talk with him more, but sleep took over her soon, doing the same short after with him.

And it was better like this, their heartbeats were better than words that would’ve led them down a dangerous path.

When the morning came, she was alone in the bed, the sheets at his side crumpled up but cold. Lifting her body up she looked around the room, rubbing her temples and thinking about the night that had been and all the consequences coming with it. 

Sighing loudly, she stood up and walked out of the bed, looking for her clothes, but not finding them anywhere. 

“I hope he won’t mind,” she murmured, grabbing one of his shirts from the closet before making her way outside. 

And there he was, cooking in the kitchen while the radio played in the background, only wearing grey pants while his back was exposed, signs of her nails visible on his skin. 

The urge to drag her feet to him and hug him was big, but she felt that wasn’t something she was supposed to do. It would’ve been another domino card pushed down, causing a bigger mess. All of this felt like it was already getting out of hand, so why was she attracted to him? 

“Rice?” 

“God, you scared me,” Jeno jumped, turning around with a hand on his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to say,” she chuckled, pulling out a chair and sitting down. 

“No, it’s fine, I imagined I had to come wake you up with breakfast in bed,” he smiled. 

“Breakfast in bed?” She asked, biting the inside of her cheeks. 

“Was it too romantic?” She could feel the panic in her voice and smiled at him. “I would’ve loved it. Might as well go back in bed just to have it.” 

Jeno let out a sigh of relief before turning around to don’t make the food burn.

“Yesterday was… great,” he whispered, eyes low on the food. They were halfway through breakfast, and there wasn’t an awkward silence, but it was clear that so many unanswered questions were flying in the room.  

She hummed, swallowing a bite, nervously playing with her nails. “Do I have to be the one making the hard question?” 

He shrugged, briefly looking up at her. 

“What does it make us?” She whispered, throat closing up and when Jeno didn’t answer it only got worst. 

“What do you want us to be?” 

She almost choked when those words slipped from his mouth. And as time passed she could only stare into his eyes. 

She didn’t know what to answer. 

The answer never really came, after slurred words and half-truths drunken up with white lies, the conclusion was that ‘they were trying,’ whatever it meant. Too many doubts haunted both of them, feeling that one bigger step was going to make them slip down a treacherous rope. 

So they were there, in that hazed state coloured of sepia like an old photograph, somehow making it work. All the blurred lines, drawn and erased and re-drawn again just to be ripped and glued together. 

All the shy kisses turned into heated sex. 

All the laughs on the floor with the glasses of wine at their sides. 

All the touches getting braver every day, under plan daylight, in front of strangers’ eyes. 

All the talks about the future, a future that was blurry like the lights from the window pane when it rains. 

But it was comfortable and warm, just like their relationship had always been. It was listening to each other after a long day, hanging out at lunch when they had the same break and even wake-up next to each other in the morning when they were too tired to slip out of each other’s bed. 

Falling into him didn’t seem as scary as it used to do. If she looked down there was a safety blanket, ready to catch her if the impact had been too hard, but she still held tight on that window from the tenth floor, terrified of the height that parted her from the ground. 

It was too soon. 

It was too good. 

“I think we need to stop drinking if we don't want to end up here every time,” Jeno joked, looking at the ceiling while he tried to regain his breath. 

“You’re funny, it's your fault,” she replied, turning around, head kept up by her bent arm against the floor. Jeno’s features were relaxed, and she wanted to caress his face so badly, but it felt like there was something holding her back every time. She didn’t even know what it was. Was she afraid of the freefall? Was there even a risk of falling and crushing on the ground with him? Jeno was comfort, everything about him felt safe, from the way he looked to the way he acted. Was it the fear of falling in love again? Was it the fear of hurting him with the wrong choice? 

“I’m not even that funny,” he chuckled, shyly moving his eyes to look at her. “Stop staring at my lips.” 

“I wasn’t staring, I was reading them. You’re funny to me.” 

He snorted, shaking his head a lifting his torso from the cold floor, looking back at her, forearms resting on his knees. 

“Why are you smiling like that?” She asked, sitting next to him, caressing his hair back. 

Jeno sighed, diverting his gaze, making her fingers brush against his skin. 

“It reminded me when we first got close, you would always lay on the floor after dancing.” 

She laughed, shaking her head. “Please, I want to forget about it. I was terrible.” 

“You were passionate, though.” 

“Passion doesn’t lead you anywhere," she replied. “Anyway, you promised you were going to bake a cake for me.”

“Not now,” he said. 

“Oh, come on, we can’t spend the entire afternoon on the floor, drinking wine and laughing.”

Jeno shrugged. “I like it actually,” and then fell backwards again, dragging her with him, making her yelp. 

“It’s not fair,” she screamed when he started kissing her cheeks. "I wanted my cake.” 

“Fine,” he gave up, rolling to her side again and getting up, reaching his hand to help her do the same. “But you help me bake it and then we’ll watch something together?”

“Deal.”

It was too soon.

It was too good. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked when she opened the door and found Haechan standing there. 

“Taking you out,” he replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

She raised a brow, tilting her head. “Taking me out? Excuse me, did I miss the bit where I forgive you?”

Haechan sighed, shaking his head. “Be ready in ten, I’m waiting by the car.” 

“You’re not taki—” 

“Yes, I am. Dress however you want,” he said, turning around. “Anyway, anything looks good on you.” 

“I heard you,” she screamed, trying to hide the smile on her face and the way the smile she could feel was on his lips made her heart flip. 

“Good, wanted you to hear it.” 

Sighing loudly she closed the door again and walked to her room. It wasn’t like she had anything better to do. Renjun was busy with some friends, and Jeno still didn’t answer her, so spending some time with Haechan couldn’t be so terrible, right? She had spent years with him, a few hours weren’t going to hurt. 

Not to say that he was trying. 

She never imagined he was going to put so much effort into trying to get back to her, but he was surprising her. So she picked his favorite dress with too much hype, not even thinking it through until she entered the car and he pointed it out. 

“It’s a coincidence,” she mumbled, looking out of the window as he started driving. 

“Sure,” Haechan smirked. “Things with you are never a coincidence. You like to have everything under control.” 

She scoffed. “Acting like you know me?” She turned around, staring at him, watching how his face was more relaxed compared to the last times they saw each other. What if things were changing? But what was changing? 

“I do know you. Better than anybody else does, and will,” he replied and she only turned over again because she didn’t feel like she had many theories to prove him wrong. Nobody got so deep under her skin. For now, she liked to think, but she wasn’t confident about it. 

“Not curious to know where I’m taking you?” He asked, breaking the silence that filled that confined space, strangely it wasn’t uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help but fear that she still hated him, and talking to her eased that tension. 

She shook her head but turned to stare at him. “You should know I like surprises.” 

Haechan smiled. “Yeah, but this is not really one.” 

“You didn’t tell me anything, and I trust you. I want to keep this a surprise, want to see if you will let me down.” 

When they arrived at the spot she was surprised but confused, it was a park, and there was a small wooden house with a porch with small lights hanging outside after walking along a path.  

“Can we even be here?” She asked, hesitating to cross the door when Haechan entered. “Are you making me do something illegal?” 

“I know the park keeper, he gifted me this for the night,” he reassured, giving her his back. 

“You didn’t take me here thinking I would fuck you just because there are some candles that I love and my favorite flowers and my favorite food, right?” She asked, smile immediately dropping when she started to feel mixed emotions. This was exactly what she loved the most, the types of cozy dates that didn’t require lots of money or crazy things.  

“You think I would screw up all those months trying to make it up to you for sex?” He asked, hurt by her words. He knew that it was hard, but did she really think that low of him? 

She sighed, nodding, and then whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

“You told me you always wanted to do something like this,” he started explaining, “well, you wanted to rent a small chalet in the mountains, but this is all I can give you for now. Thought it was the closest thing we have in town.” 

“So, you listened to me sometimes?” Her tone wasn’t mad, light enough that her words were followed by a tender chuckle. 

“I did, I just never showed you I listened,” he replied, serving the food on her plate. “Next time I’ll cook it myself, but asking the keeper to order it and place it for us was the only option I had now.” 

“It’s fine,” she reassured, smiling at him. “Is this his?” 

“He’s not the owner, but they are not here, so it’s like it is his,” Haechan explained, sitting in front of her. “You usually have to pay for this, but at night the park it’s closed.”

“He must really trust you. How do you know him?” 

Haechan gulped. He couldn’t tell her that was the place he ran to when he needed time alone, silently crying while he felt like shit because he missed her, right? 

“I come here a lot.” Yeah, that was a better option. “And I once stayed after the closing hour without realizing, he found me, and we talked about…” You. We talked all night about you. “…a lot of things.” 

She hummed, taking a bite and waiting to swallow before she spoke again. “He must be nice if you opened up that easily,” she said with a small melancholic smile on her face. “Well, or maybe you changed and open up with people more.” 

“I needed help, let’s say, I was at my lowest.” 

Her eyes met his. “Was it… six years ago?” 

He shook his head, “No, my second time hitting my lowest.” 

She placed the chopsticks on the table and reached for his hand, “Why didn’t you come to me?” 

Haechan sighed, looking at her hands on his, the same old delicate touch he knew, the touch that saved him many years ago, full of worries he now felt he didn’t deserve. He pulled away. “I was… I was at my lowest because of you.” 

She didn’t answer, gulping and grabbing the chopsticks again, trying to concentrate on the food instead. 

“I’m not blaming you, by the way,” he specified when he couldn’t read her face. “I put myself in this situation.” 

“Yeah, I — I got what you meant, it’s fine. Should we enjoy this before it gets cold?” 

“Yeah, I think it’s better like this.” 

Dinner went unexpectedly smoothly. Probably they became masters at avoiding trick conversations, but anyway it was a pleasant time together. 

Haechan couldn’t believe she still didn’t throw something at him or stormed outside with a sudden rage against him. 

And she couldn’t believe Haechan looked like a completely different person. Or, better, he looked like the same Haechan she had fallen in love with. Attentive and caring, genuinely interested in the things she was saying, and with a different glow in his eyes, a glow that five years ago he only reserved for her. 

They talked and talked and laughed and it felt like in the air there was the same magic that surrounded them on their first dates. The cheap ones at the fast food that made them go home smelling like oil, or the ones sitting under a tree as they enjoyed the light spring breeze caress their faces, or even the ones at the arcade when Haechan still cared to teach her how to play games and wouldn’t get mad at her if she got her character killed. 

But this magic was dangerous, it smelled like something they couldn’t have. It smelled like the past. And as much as they both clearly wanted this to be the future, the road ahead didn’t seem as clear as this. 

“Remember when we used to go to the old library downtown?” Haechan asked, a small smile curling his lips while his fingers played with the corner of the napkin.

“Yeah, I could drag you there only cause there was a game shop beside.”

He chuckled, “don’t pretend those weren’t your favorite dates. We would both take time to understand each other’s passions even if we hated them.”

She smiled at the memory, "and then we would sneak into your bedroom. You trying to teach me how to play and me failing. So I would just watch, or read my books in silence.”

“Or out loud. I loved it when you read out loud, there’s something about your voice… Before we started dating and you came over I… I sometimes recorded you, it was the only sound that made me sleep at night.”

Her lips twitched in a melancholic grin, holding back tears, “Your screams during games wouldn’t have made me sleep so I'm sorry if I didn’t record them.”

Haechan laughed, shaking his head. Remembering that actually she often fell asleep while he was playing, and not noticing immediately he didn't lower his voice, and they still didn’t wake her up.

“But I loved watching you. It was the only time you were yourself, without trying to impress others that never even cared about you. You know, I think that even if you became more confident with time you never stopped caring about what people had to say. I… I don’t want to justify you but I tried, God if I tried when I didn’t want to accept the truth, and I still blame you but… I guess for you it made sense to be with someone like her and not me. We were fine until you started becoming more known and started meeting more people like them. Dancers dating dancers, people with big goals in life, unlike me. You started changing not only with me, but even with yourself. I hope you stopped now, I hope… I hope you don’t let other people’s opinion of you define you.”

Haechan didn’t reply immediately. How could she still read him so easily? How could she know him so deeply? He couldn’t blame others for his terrible choices but it was true that he let voices around him get to his head. The fear of being a loser once again was stronger than a lot of things he should’ve taken care of.

“I don't…”

She smiled, hoping it was true, regardless of them, and what they were going to be, she still hoped he had stopped letting the demons from the past torture him.

“It’s raining,” she pointed out when she heard a loud sound outside and, after turning her back to the window, she saw the drops hit the glass.  

“Let’s go,” Haechan said, timidly grabbing her hand, surprised when she held his back and let their fingers intertwine. 

“Wait, wouldn’t be better to wait till it calms?” She asked, stopping for a second. 

Haechan smiled. “I don’t want to go home.” 

“No? Then where are we going?” 

“Do you trust me?” He asked, gathering all the courage in his body, terrified of the answer. 

But the words slipped out of her mind before she could rationalize them. “Yes.” 

He couldn’t describe the happiness he felt in his chest at her words and the enthusiasm with which he pulled her out of the small wooden house. 

“We’re gonna get soaked,” she said when the heavy rain hit their bodies. 

“Wasn’t this on your bucket list?” He asked, grabbing both of her hands and staring into her eyes as the water wet them more. “Didn’t you always want to dance under the rain?” 

Her lips parted in surprise, enthusiasm, and thrill, he couldn’t exactly point out the emotions on her face, but when the biggest smile crossed her face, he felt happier than ever. It was like having her back, he could feel the happiness and serenity radiate from her body and that was the only sign he needed. No matter how this was going to end, she didn’t hate him anymore. She felt safe and happy. 

“There’s no music, though,” she chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck, shivering when Haechan’s hands wrapped around her waist. None of them could remember the last time they had been so close and intimate, it had surely been more than a year considering how their story had crumbled apart long before the end.

“I also have that planned,” he said, before pulling out his phone from his back pocket and starting to play her favorite song. 

“You still remember…” she whispered, and Haechan couldn’t tell if her eyes were teary or if it was the rain. 

“I will always remember all the small things about you.” 

She didn’t answer, only hummed before they started dancing to the rhythm. And they danced, not caring about tiring, letting the rain soak them completely, laughing and pulling each other closer. It felt good. It brought them back to the nights up in the kitchen when Haechan used her as a — terrible — dance partner and then they ended up waltzing together. 

Or to be fair, it brought them to another world where they have never been, because this didn’t feel real. They weren’t in the past anymore, she got better now, and even if she missed a step, he didn’t mind. And now the world outside didn’t seem so loud, no other opinions to tell them what to do and condition them to make mistakes. 

It was them. 

Under the pouring rain. 

Wearing their biggest smiles as their fleshes moved together as if they were made just for that. 

When their lips met in a kiss, the magic exploded around them, making them fly in the sky before reality crashed on them again, the unrealistic bubble of happiness imploding, the strength so harsh that pushed them to the ground. 

“I didn’t —” Haechan tried to justify when she pulled apart, even if he had no idea who started the kiss. 

“Don’t,” she stopped him, taking a step back. Cursing herself mentally, wiping the drops of water out of her face. 

“But I —”

“I said, don’t,” she retorted again, finger lifted up to don’t make him take a step closer. “You can’t, you can’t just crash in and take everything of me again. You can’t be so sure that I will take you back every time. You’re messing with my head and you know what you’re doing.” 

“I’m trying to get you back. Like you told me. I’m proving to you that I love you, that I care about you. I’m not tricking you,” he explained, not moving to don’t scare her away, but he couldn’t understand this reaction. Weren’t they fine just ten seconds before? Why was she so afraid? Why was he so hard to trust?  

“Why did you kiss me?” 

“Why did you kiss me back? I’m not even sure I was the one starting it. You know what’s the problem? That you still love me, no matter how much you tell yourself you don’t, no matter how much you fuck with Jeno, pretending that he makes you feel the same. You love me still and you hate it. You hate that you know you will never be happier with anybody else.” 

“God, you’re so full of yourself and so… so, God,” she groaned, clenching her fists and turning around, starting to walk in the park, under the rain, wrapping her arms around her chest, not even to shield herself from the cold but to support herself, a self-hug to don’t fall apart again. 

“You can’t leave without me,” he said, pulling her closer, chest to chest, as her eyes looked up at him. The rain still hitting them, coming down harder, almost as if the rain was mad too. “Don’t leave me.” The last words came out like a plead, or like a prayer, begging her to don’t ruin this perfect night together. He knew he was the problem, one thing good and three wrong, but he was trying to get better. He was doing it for her. 

Haechan felt his heart tighten when her eyes filled with salty drops, he couldn’t read her anymore, or maybe he never learned to, so that was why it hurt so much right now. They both needed to correct years of mistakes, wrong words, and misunderstood acts. 

He couldn’t tell what was going on in her heart. If she was mad because he kissed her, or if she was mad because they shouldn’t have been there, getting mad over a kiss that still could’ve been theirs if only he didn’t fuck it up. 

“Can we keep dancing? Can we pretend?” He whispered, caressing her wet cheek, kissing her forehead, her eyelids falling shut at the tender touch. “At least for tonight, then I’ll promise, I’ll stop running after you if you already decided what to do. If you want him instead of me.” 

The sound of the metal shelves rustling back and forth filled the small room while her hands wrapped tightly around the bar of it in the storage room. 

“Jeno, fuck,” she moaned, ass arching back to meet him halfway. His strong, fast thrusts already making her stomach twist.

“I told you to keep quiet,” he whispered close to her ear, wrapping a hand around her mouth while the other was firm around her waist. “The others are practicing outside.” 

She hummed, eyes falling shut, trying to keep quiet. The music of the choreo could still be heard playing in the background, and she hoped it was just them playing it for fun and that the training didn’t start again. Maybe sneaking into a back room during the break wasn’t the smartest thing they could do but she needed to shut her mind off, too many thoughts running through it, and lately, Jeno was the only getaway. 

“You feel so good,” Jeno muttered against her neck, nibbling her shoulder, and crumbling her skirt higher up on her ass. 

Her fist clenched harder around the bar when he started to thrust into her with more force, the sound of their skin slapping against each other filling the room. 

“Jeno,” she screamed as soon as he pulled his hand away. 

“I told you to keep quiet, fuck,” he cursed, shushing her again. “You really want them to find us out, don’t you?” 

She shook her head, feeling her breath falter and her heart race faster as the orgasm approached. 

“No? Are you sure this isn’t a sick game of revenge?” 

“Jeno, what? Please keep — keep fucking me, you’re so good.” 

She didn’t see the furrow on his face, the disappointed one, not the concentred one, eyes dropping off their usual light before he tried to snap back into the mood again, fixating his gaze on her ass. But it wasn’t enough to fool himself anymore. 

“Je-jeno?” She asked, noticing his hips’ movement slowing down until they came to a stop. When he pulled out she whined, thinking for a moment he was playing some game, that he wanted to tease her, but when a dead silence filled the room she gulped and turned around, seeing he was dressed once again. 

“Are — are you okay?” 

“You’re avoiding me,” Jeno told her, shyly meeting her eyes.

“I’m not,” she chuckled nervously. “I’m right here.” 

“You only call me when you want to fuck. You barely even text me if it’s not for that.” 

“That’s not true, I — I’ve been busy lately. I thought we both were okay with this.” 

He sighed, he thought that too when he hoped sex would lead to something more. “I know you don’t love me,” he said, making her stop midway while she fixed her skirt. “It was foolish of me to believe I could mean even half of what he means to you.” 

“Jeno, no, you mean a lot to me.” 

“Yeah, but not like that.” 

“I — that’s not true.” 

“It’s not?” He raised a brow, challenging her with a cold stare. 

“Haechan wants me back, and I’m making him believe he has a chance because I want him to hurt. I want him to understand what it feels like to run after somebody like that, I want him to understand what it feels like to bleed for love.” 

“Be careful of not making bleed somebody else in the meanwhile.” 

“Jeno, I,” she said, trying to block him from opening the door.  

“No, I just… you know how this is going to end,” he said, looking into her eyes, sure more than ever she wasn’t feeling what he felt for her.  

“No, it won’t end like you think.” 

He didn’t answer her, slipping out of her hold to walk back to the practice room, not even ready to face Haechan. 

She let her back fall behind, slumping against the wall as she sighed and felt hot tears stream down her face. Why was it so difficult? And why was it so unfair? 

She was stuck in a labyrinth in her mind and it seemed like there was no way out. 

And she kept thinking about it all the way home. Maybe Jeno was right. 

Because all those attentions from Haechan were making her walls fall down even if she didn’t want to. He never treated her like that, well, only at the start. No, for the first four years it was like heaven, so where did they go wrong? 

Maybe talking and tearing their story apart would’ve been better than those games. Better than all the push and pull. Because like this, they weren’t going anywhere. 

And of one thing she was sure, she didn’t want anybody else to come out of the battle with wounds and tears. 

“You need to stop showing up at my door like this,” she said when she opened the door and Haechan was standing there. A white tee, his black jacket, black jeans, and his brown boots. She wondered how they were still intact considering how much he would wear them. 

“I wish I could,” he replied, voice off, and cheeks red. Only when her eyes looked at him better, she realized he was drunk. “You’re so beautiful,” he added, eyes trailing down on her figure, she was wearing house clothes, just a lilac sweater, and black sweatpants, while her hair was kept up by a clip. But to him, she still looked mesmerizing. 

“Why are you here, Hyuck?” Her voice had a worried edge in it and that made him smile. 

“Did you call me Hyuck? So, you forgave me for the kiss of the other day?” 

She sighed, gulping and drifting her eyes from him. Drunk Haechan was her weakness, especially in the last times, when he would let go of himself only if he had at least two bottles of soju running in his bloodstream and she could still take a glimpse of the same person she had fallen in love with. “It’s 1 a.m, you should be in your bed or somebody else bed.” 

“I can be in yours.” 

She laughed bitterly, “No, you will be in every bed but mine.” 

“Did I push you away?” 

“We already talked it through, it happened. We’re fine.” 

“Then why aren’t you answering my texts? Or my calls? You didn’t even go out with us the other day. Did you fight with him, too? Found your answer?” 

“Okay, calm down. I need… I need time alone, Haechan. This is…” This was a game to make you suffer, leading you to think you could have me back, but it backfired and here we are, here I am. “You shouldn’t be here.” 

“You should answer me,” he said, taking a step closer. “You should talk. I thought we learned where not talking led us.” 

She sighed, looking down when he was face to face with her. “How much did you drink?” 

“Not enough to drown you out of my mind.” 

She sighed, blinking away a tear that was menacing to fall. “Did you drive here?” 

He shook his head, “Took the metro,” he said before he smirked. “Afraid for my life?” 

“Yeah, because I know your ghost would haunt me more than you do now,” she replied, a bitter hint of a joke in her voice, before she stepped to the side. “Come in.” 

Haechan didn’t let her repeat it twice. He looked around, studying how the house tasted of her. Her plants, her books on the shelves, the wall with framed vinyls, the lamps at every corner, the candles on the windowsill, the pillows on the couch, and the faint aroma of her cooking still in the air. He missed all of that so much. 

“Are we alone?” 

“Unfortunately,” she replied before disappearing into the kitchen.  

“I love you,” he said, looking at her while his body blocked hers on the door of the kitchen. 

“Don’t,” she said, shutting him up with a finger raised. “You need water and then… and some sleep.” 

“I need you.” 

“I won’t cure your migraine tomorrow or stop you from puking all over my floor.” 

“But it’s what you’re doing.” 

She glared at him, handing him a glass of water. “Drink,” she ordered. “I’ll make your bed on the couch.” 

He grabbed it reluctantly, and then said, “we already shared one.” 

“Shared.” 

Haechan rolled his eyes but drank the glass anyway, coming out of the room to see her walk into the bedroom to get the sheets. 

“Why can’t we sleep together?” He asked when she let the white fabric fall on the open couch. 

“You know why,” she replied, looking at him. 

“If you made up your mind you should just talk to us and put an end to this.” 

She sighed, if only she didn’t hate this conversation so much she would’ve found it funny how disordered his replies sounded like. “I didn’t invite you here, Haechan.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Here we are again.” 

“Here we are again, what?” She asked sternly, standing straight again to stare into his eyes. 

“You called me Hyuck before.” 

She laughed, “you think that has a meaning for me anymore? It just slips out of habit.”

“So, I mean nothing to you?” 

“Why are you here?” She asked instead, closed fist on her hip and feet tapping the floor, her patience was wearing thin, she wasn’t used to this anymore.

“Because I was out at a club, and I could only think about you.” 

“That’s not enough, that’s not enough to come back here and… and do whatever you want with my heart,” she replied, hands moving frenetically in the air to try to help herself find a sense in all of this. 

“I can’t find you in people’s faces,” Haechan snapped. “I can’t let you go, it would be so much easier if I could just… forget, but I can’t. I can’t because nobody makes my heart race like you do. It’s not fair, it’s like you put a spell on me to — to curse me, to make me pay for all the pain I put you through. I can’t have you back and I can’t win you anymore and I don’t know how to live without you and it sucks, it sucks so badly you have no idea.” 

She chuckled, bitterly. “I have no idea?” 

“You moved on, found someone new. Someone who brings out the better in you.”

“Then why are you here? If you think I won’t take you back, if you think I found my happiness, why are you here?” Her voice raised, clipping in her throat when she met his eyes and had to stop hers from breaking into a pathetic cry.  

“Because I don’t want you to be happier,” he confessed. “I hope you’re happy, but not like how you were with me. I’m selfish, I know, I can’t let you go. I know you found someone great, but I hope he’s not better than me. I want to see you happy, I just...I just don’t want you to be happier.” 

“You tore us apart.” 

“I know,” he whispered. “But can you tell me how to forget you? How can I make this pain go away? How can I go back home after work and don’t feel a twist in my chest every time I realize I don’t have you there? How can I stay in that place that we were supposed to call home and has nothing of you? How can I wake up every morning and don’t have you by my side?” 

“You can.” She lied. You can’t. Well, you can, eventually, you have to. But you can’t ever make that tingly feeling go away when you think of all the ‘could’ve been.’

“You didn’t tell me how,” he said, moving closer, hands wrapping around her waist. “How can I drown you out? How can I move on when I see you every time I close my eyes?” he whispered, eyelids falling close as he leaned in, nose brushing against her cheek. “If my sweatshirts still smell like you? If it kills me that the only time I can hear your laugh is when Jeno makes you laugh.” 

“You had to think about this before,” she replied, pushing him away, hands moving to brush off the crease on her clothes, to brush him off of her but he was like fingerprints buried deep into her bones, she couldn’t dust him off when he was carved in her. “You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying. I’ll prepare the bed and then tomorrow we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.” 

Haechan chuckled. “Why do we have to pretend?” He stared as she started parting the bedding and when she didn’t answer, he only sighed loudly. A bitter smile curled his lips as he watched her fix the sheets, bringing back painful memories of when they used to fix the bedding together during their morning afters. When they would wake up in a tangle of sheets and sex of the night before, and in that mess burn up again until they finally decided that waking up and having breakfast was a wise move. 

“It’s done,” she said, fixing the pillows and probably wiping away a tear. Haechan couldn’t see her face clearly in the dim lights of the house, and in the position was keeping her face, low on the floor. “There’s another glass of water with aspirin on the coffee table, take it if you don’t want to pay the consequences of your bullshits in the morning.” 

He nodded, sitting on the freshly made bed and watching her disappear into the other room. Silence and loneliness dropped on him as he stared at an empty spot in front of him. 

A gut feeling telling him that was their finish line, that she made up her mind and he wasn’t in her final plan. 

And he tried to sleep, but somehow the pain was bigger than the others nights now that the only thing separating them was a wall. This could’ve been their reality, this could’ve been all different. He could still have his dreams and her, and instead, he played his cards like a fool and lost the only real thing he had ever known. 

“What are you doing?” He asked when he opened his eyes and saw her sitting in front of him. He blinked repeatedly, but it wasn’t morning, and when his eyes landed on the clock in the room, he saw it was barely past 2 am. 

“Thinking,” she replied, twirling the cup full of a hot liquid in her hand. 

“Thinking?” Haechan raised from the bed, elbows supporting his upper body up, watching her relaxed face in the dim light. She was beautiful even if he could clearly see she was exhausted. 

She nodded, looking down, inhaling the scent of the tea in her hands. 

“About?” 

“How everything could’ve been different if only one thing had been different. Remember all the plans we made? How we wanted to rent a house together after college? How we were worried it wouldn’t have worked if you started touring around the world,” she chuckled bitterly, their nights spent together planning a future that never came replaying in her mind like the scene of her favorite movie. “Fixed the problem in another way.” 

“I didn’t do it for that,” he defended, sitting to look at her.

“I know, but it’s ironic, isn’t it?” She drank a bit and then placed it on the table, jumping out of that to sit next to him on the bed. 

“I was also thinking about how much I hate you,” she said, caressing a strand of hair from his face. “We could’ve had it all. We could’ve made it work. And look at us, a mess crumpled up in a made-up bed in my living room while we talk about the ifs and buts.” 

Haechan didn’t answer, he only stared at her. How enchantingly beautiful she looked even if she was finding a way to tell him they were over. Again. It was like a stab on the same wound, but every time it hit deeper and made him bleed some more. He knew he deserved it and even worst.

“You’re mesmerizing even if you look like a mess,” he let the words slip out, thinking she would’ve slapped him when he realized what he did, but she only smiled, and searched for his hand. 

“You should’ve told me more often when we were together.” 

“I know,” he replied, hand touching her cheek, thumb moving in circles, making her rub against it like a cat when it purrs. 

“You should’ve bought me flowers when we were together.” 

“I also know that.” 

“You shouldn’t have made me feel stupid,” she sighed, throwing her head back. “But we can’t change the past, right?” 

He nodded, pressing his lips together and breathing deeply. “We can change the future.” 

“Or we can ruin it by making the wrong choice,” she said, leaning in, not even knowing why she was searching for his warmth.  

“Does one mistake make a difference between thousands of others?” He asked, leaning closer, standing now eye to eye. 

“I don’t know.” Her voice came out like a vibrato, while her eyes fell on his lips. Oh, those lips. How much she missed them. How much she craved them. But she wasn’t the only one missing that feeling. Feeling the urge to test if one mistake could lead to a catastrophe.  

He kissed her, slow at first, shy, fearful, but then their hands tangled into each other’s hair, and ran on their backs, and pulled and squeezed, almost as if they were trying to rip parts of each other and keep them to themselves, forever this time. 

And none of them wanted to stop. 

It was just a mistake over many mistakes.

“Hyuck,” she moaned when his leg started rubbing between her legs, the motions on her throbbing clit sending sparks up in her bones. 

“So, it’s Hyuck, again, uh?” He smirked. 

She didn’t answer his teasing remark, head reclined back when his fingers moved past the elastic band of her pants. 

“We shouldn’t,” she said but her body kept rocking against him. 

“Kiss me,” he ordered, letting her words fall forgotten, the other hand cupping her ass and pulling her on top of his thigh better. “And keep grinding on me.” 

And she did, not caring that humping him like this was pathetic, head falling in the crook of his neck, inhaling his perfume and letting it fill her senses. 

“Did you miss this?” He asked when his fingers started moving on her clit in circles, making her throw her head back while louder moans rolled out of her mouth. A grin on his face as he stared at her bliss-filled face. “Not answering, uh?” 

“Shut up,” she replied through gritted teeth, head falling on his shoulder to hide the embarrassment, moans getting louder as the pleasure grew bigger with every move. 

Haechan chuckled, “I don’t need your words, I still know your body, babe.” 

“Then listen to it and make me come.” 

“So greedy, aren’t you?” 

“Haechan,” she cursed when he stopped, slipping his hand out of her pants. 

“Touch me,” he ordered, unbuckling his belt and lowering the pants on the floor while struggling to keep her body up. “If we can make each other bleed, we can make each other come.” 

She hummed, hand wrapping around his hard cock, pumping it with the same rhythm he was using on her clit now that his hands were buried again between her thighs.

“Did you think of me when his hands were on you?” He asked, kissing her roughly, nibbling her lower lip when they pulled away. “Did he make you shiver just at the slightest touch? Does he know you like I do?” 

She groaned, holding back a moan and a cry because the answer was negative. Jeno didn’t know her like he did. He didn’t touch her like Haechan did. It was good, but it wasn’t this. And she hated this. 

“Hyuck,” she moaned when his fingers slipped inside. 

“Hyuck, what?” He groaned, cupping her chin, forcing her to stare right into his eyes and don’t hide in the crook of his neck. 

“I — l,” she mumbled nonsense.  

He snickered when the words died in her mouth. “You feel guilty? Feel like shit because you’re here with me and not with him? Because you’re letting me fuck you after you pretended you wanted me to leave?” 

“Don’t,” she groaned. 

“Don’t tell the truth? Don’t tell that if you weren’t so fucking strong headed you would’ve crawled to me months ago begging for me?” 

She groaned, throwing her head back, holding back the tears as the orgasm felt closer, slamming a hand on his chest. 

“Where is he, now? Thinking about you? Maybe thinking about texting you — fuck — to tell you how much he misses you?” 

“We’re not dating,” she replied, “and don’t bring him — don’t bring him up.” 

“No?” 

“No,” she replied. “I’m — I’m close.” 

“Keep moving your hand on me, then, or I won’t make you come.” 

“You can’t — fuck — you can’t make up your own rules.” 

Haechan grinned, fingers stopping inside of her, making her whine. “You used to beg me to tell you what to do, what changed now?” 

Her breath faltered as she tried to grind against him to selfishly ride the orgasm but Haechan pulled away. 

“Think I don’t know your little tricks?” His eyebrows knitted. “Think I can’t read you with my eyes closed?” 

“You never proved it to me,” she replied, sniffling, heart racing and burning in her chest, the pleasure of the sex mixing up with the same, unbearable pain only he could put her through. 

“Don’t fucking lie,” he said, slipping his fingers inside again, lifting her up, and caging her body underneath his once he had turned her over, pressing her against the mattress. His fingers started moving faster, not caring that she wasn’t paying attention to his aching boner. “You’re underneath me, not him. And you know when he has you like this, he doesn’t make you feel half of what I make you feel.” 

She stopped trying to retort because she knew it was the truth. Jeno was good, so fucking good, but three months couldn’t compare to five years. He couldn’t compare to the one that made her discover all her kinks, the one she tried so many things with, the one she felt safe to even laugh or crack jokes during sex. 

“That’s it, that’s better,” he moaned, grinding against her thigh, trying to feel some pleasure too. “I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

“I’m gonna come,” she moaned, throwing her head back, nails digging into the sheets. 

“Only if you tell me I’m better than him,” he ordered, moving his fingers faster, making them curl right where she needed while his thumb moved in circles on her clit. 

“No,” she screamed. 

“No?” He asked, tilting his head, pulling out to let out a light slap on her clit, making her hiss and moan. “Lie again,” he ordered and she shook her head, lifting her hips up to meet him but he clicked his tongue. “Lie again.” 

“He’s… he’s better than you.” 

Haechan’s fingers slipped into her again, picking the same rhythm as before, making her stomach twist and her muscles shake. “Repeat it.” 

“He’s better than you.” 

“Again,” he ordered, growling as he felt anger and sadness mix. 

She cried out, thighs clenching around his wrist. “He’s better than you, fuck, Hyuck.” 

“Come, if I can make you come. Maybe we should call him, ask him if he can make you feel better. Should we send him a picture of you now? Would he hate you or would he hate me?” 

His words were barely registered in her brain when the orgasm washed over her, leaving her breathless, ears buzzing with static noises, and tears streaming down her face as guilt plunged over her. 

“Fuck,” she cursed, pushing him away, rolling to the side before she got up on shaky legs and then turned around to talk. 

“Don’t say it,” he stopped her. “I know, but I don’t want to hear it.” 

She sighed, nodding, and staring at him. “When I wake up in the morning, I don’t want to find you here.” 

That was the biggest mistake they could do. 

And they just did it. 

“When did you plan on telling it to me?” Renjun snapped, staring at her with wide eyes, almost dropping the piece of cake she had offered when he arrived at her place. When she called panicking he expected everything but this.  

“Never,” she replied, a puff of air coming out of her mouth loudly as she let her body fall against the couch. 

“After all the steps forward, you want to get back to him?” 

“I don’t want to get back to him. I don’t know what to do…” 

Renjun rolled his eyes, sitting next to her after placing the plate on the coffee table, he had lost his appetite anyway. “So that’s why he’s always around you and you let him. All the special things you got lately…” 

She nodded, biting a hangnail on her thumb, making it bleed. 

Renjun rubbed his temples. He sensed something was going on. All the flowers piled up in her living room. All the boxes of food sent to her workplace during the break. The tickets for a gallery they went together that she had by ‘pure luck’. The first print of her favorite book that was impossible to find. But he always imagined those things were coming from Jeno and they simply wanted to keep their relationship private. 

“But why?” 

“Because I’m dumb, and because I thought he was going to fail me again and maybe that would’ve made him suffer and at the same time helped me to forget about him at all.” 

“But he didn’t let you down…” He finished for her, sighing loudly. 

“He didn’t, and not only that but he’s surprising me, he… He proves to me that he listened to me and my passions, that maybe I’m not as dull as he made me think I was and he’s once again fucking with me. I don’t know if I can trust him, I don’t know if it’s for real.” She wasn’t going to add the detail of the other night, knowing well that if she did, Renjun was going to cut her head off, and he was right. 

“And Jeno?” 

“Why do you need to bring him up now?” 

“You said you don’t know what you feel for them. He treats you right,” Renjun said. “He treated you right since the very first moment,” he pointed out, raising a brow. Now, it wasn’t like he was siding with one of the two but… okay, he was. He just didn’t feel like Haechan was trustworthy, while he knew Jeno was genuine and cared about her a lot. 

She hummed, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. “He’s nice.” 

Renjun’s mouth widened, “Nice… that’s it?” 

“He… he’s a lot of things, okay? He’s sensible. He always encourages me, praises me, and tells me everything I need to hear. He respects me, my spaces, and my needs. And I know that I sound so ungrateful because I couldn’t ask for anything better than him but… I feel fine, I just feel fine…” 

He held back a loud, disappointed, sigh and shifted closer to her, caressing her hair. “And isn’t that good? You know that love doesn’t require pain, right? You don’t have to suffer to feel something.” 

“I know, but I never felt pain with Haechan… not until things broke. I miss the rush, I miss what we had before. Jeno doesn’t bring the rollercoasters, the stomach twisting in excitement, the goosebumps on my skin… and I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing.” 

“I think it’s a good thing,” he said, smiling at her, playfully pinching her cheek. “Why don’t you focus on the other side? What does Jeno bring you?” 

“He makes me happy, and he makes me feel safe. I like him. And I like being with him but… I feel like there’s something missing.”

“What Jeno doesn’t have?” 

She sighed, looking into her friend’s eyes, and then shook her head, lowering her gaze because she didn’t want to see the disappointment in them once she answered.

“He’s not Haechan.” 

“I should’ve stayed at home,” she muttered under her breath struggling in the small bathroom of Renjun’s friend’s house, trying to clean her dress. She was there all alone because he had disappeared and Jeno didn’t even spare her a glance. After that ‘fight’ they had, he stopped talking to her at all, and she felt hurt once again. It didn’t hurt like a break-up but she couldn’t stand the silence between them. She missed him, a lot. But Jeno probably hated her. And she wasn’t even so sure about reaching out, afraid of hurting him more than she — apparently — already did. Maybe being aware of the pain we cause to others wasn’t as easy as she always thought, trying to survive every day we rarely see the bat swing we do around. 

“I was looking for you.”

She definitely should’ve stayed at home. 

“You’re drunk,” she blurted out, turning around, taking in Haechan’s flushed face. “Go home.” 

Haechan shook his head, blocking her from going out, pushing her back inside the bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” She stuttered when he closed the door behind him. 

“Shh,” he shushed her, leaning in, trying to kiss her. 

“You’re drunk,” she repeated, moving her head to the side, and slipping out of his hold, making him face the wall. 

“I only had a glass,” he replied, lips curled in a smirk, and she had no idea if it was the confined space, or the music that could be faintly heard in the background, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. It had been weeks since they had been this close, but trying to push them both out of her life wasn’t leading anywhere. 

And when Haechan moved close to her again, her breath faltered, eyes looking up at him, but this time she didn’t move. She let his hand wrap around her waist and the other rest behind her on the mirror. 

“I looked at you all night,” he whispered, leaning closer, nose brushing against her neck. “You never danced like this with me.” 

Her head was thrown back when his lips brushed on her skin. “You never looked at me,” she replied, squeezing her eyes because she didn’t want to think about that. About all the times she tried to get his attention just to be ignored because she wasn’t good enough.

“I missed out so much, baby.” 

“Don’t call me baby,” she retorted sternly. “I’m not your baby.” 

“I could make you mine again,” he said, staring at her. “I could make you feel so good.” 

“I didn’t forgive you, Haechan,” she said, shaking her head and pushing him away, reaching for the door before he could stop her. 

It was tempting, too tempting. Fall back in his arms, letting him touch her like only he could. But she wasn’t sure that was the wise thing to do, again. It only messed up with her more. Sex was never a good solution, and it was the very thing that led her to this even trickier situation. 

And she didn’t even realize that tears had started flowing down her face when she sat outside on the small step out of the main door, the breeze freezing her. 

Why did everything have to be so complicated? Why was it so hard with him? With them? 

Why did Haechan break her heart whether he loved her or not? 

“You’ll get cold.” 

She didn’t lift her head, she didn’t need it to know that he ran after her and now his jacket was resting on her shoulders to keep her warm. She didn’t even need to turn around to know he was staring at her now that he was sitting at her side. But she had no idea what he was thinking about as he stared at her. She felt like she couldn’t read him anymore, or maybe she didn’t want to dare to read him anymore since the last time she tried, they ended like that. 

“You know I hate you, right?” She whispered, voice faltering while her eyes focused on the pebbles on the floor. 

“I know,” Haechan sighed, staring at the same spot, their legs brushing together, his jeans heating up the exposed skin of her thigh. 

“But you know I can’t get enough of you. You know I can’t forget about our past. And not even about our future, even if it doesn’t exist.” 

“It can exist if you want to,” he pointed out, tilting his head to look at her, but her eyes were still focused in front of them. 

She chuckled bitterly, “Is it on me? Or is it on you?” 

“You have to forgive me.” 

She nodded. Of course, the responsibility was hanging like a knife, swinging back and forth, on her head. One wrong move and it would’ve hit her. No matter how it would’ve gone, she had a feeling the only one to come out of there battered and bruised was going to be her. 

“I don’t know what to do Haechan,” she whispered, head falling against his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. Her eyes closed as she inhaled his scent deeply. He smelt like himself, not like Bora, or some other girls. It was just him. Home. Or at least what once felt like home. “I want to strangle you, and then I want to kiss you. I want you dead, but I fear I won’t be able to live without you.” 

“Weren’t we always like this?” 

“No,” she replied. “When we first met, I wanted to strangle you because you wouldn’t trust me and let me in. Now I want to strangle you because I —,” she stopped, intercepting the words that were about to slip out of her mouth before she could trip into a confession she wasn’t sure about. “Hate you. I hate you.” 

Haechan chuckled, or sniffled, she couldn’t get what sound came out of his mouth. “You know, I can’t blame you for feeling that.” 

“I just… I wish to know why,” she sighed. “Weren’t we enough? Weren’t we the best thing that happened to each other? We had so many plans, so many dreams, and all of a sudden you decided they weren’t enough.” 

“I was dumb, young, and superficial. I wasn’t insecure about you, I was insecure about me. I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror and instead, I pushed you out of my life.” 

She nodded, biting her lips harshly, pretty sure in a minute they were going to start bleeding, but the physical pain would’ve felt less painful than the mixed emotions she was feeling right now.

“I don’t know if I can get over it,” she confessed. No, she didn’t make up her mind, but at this point, she felt she was never going to make her mind up, stuck between the past, the future, and the future she had dreamt of for so long. 

“What are you doing here?” Renjun said, only seeing her at first before his eyes landed on Haechan and he groaned. “Haechan.” 

“It’s fine,” she said, standing up, and adjusting her dress. “We were talking.” 

“You should come inside, it’s cold here,” he said, looking at both of them, seeing that she was wearing his jacket. “Jeno’s looking for you. He needs to talk to you.” 

“I’ll come,” she said, following him on the steps. 

“Don’t go,” Haechan stopped her, grabbing her wrist. 

“Hyuck, please, let me go,” she whispered, pressing her lips together. “If you love me let me go.” 

And he did, fingers slipping away from her wrist, watching as she disappeared inside, brown wooden door slamming in his face. 

He tried to let her go, to don’t fixate his eyes on her as she talked with Jeno and then danced with him. Why were they dancing? He overheard they were taking their distances, that he was hurt because she didn’t love him, and now? What could happen in ten minutes to get them like that? 

If she wanted to make him jealous he was sure he wasn’t going to use Jeno, so was that a bad sign? 

‘come home with me’ 

‘please’ 

‘just to talk’ 

Haechan wanted to talk to her, there weren’t many steps to take to reach her, but they felt like miles now that he had a gulp in his throat, so texting her seemed like a better option, but she never answered. He couldn’t stand there and watch other pairs of hands run on her body, pulling her closer, feeling her in a way only he used to do. And now he understood even more how terrible it must have felt for her, how much seeing the person you love, give intimate attention to somebody else. 

He couldn’t. 

He couldn’t move his feet on the ground, friction keeping him in place. 

He couldn’t take away her happiness now that he had lost her. 

He should’ve started to deal with this, with the pain, with the boulder on his stomach, with the realization that he had lost her and it was all his fault. 

Haechan should’ve started to get used to this sight, Jeno holding her, hugging her, touching her, loving her, not more than he did, but surely better, because apparently, what he did wasn’t enough. 

And he would’ve. From tomorrow. Not tonight, not now after giving her one last look and walking out of the house, feet dragging on the concrete of Seoul’s sidewalks. 

From tomorrow. 

Yeah, it was a good start. Like all the projects of life. Tomorrow. It’s easier than today. It’s easier to set a goal far in time and manipulate your brain to think that you’ll have the strength to do it if some more hours pass by. 

It couldn’t have been so bad, right? If she moved on, if all of this courting didn’t move her at all after five years together, he, the one that led them there, should’ve forgotten about her in the blink of an eye. 

But as tears started streaking down his face, Haechan feared that maybe it wouldn’t have been so easy. That maybe starting tomorrow wouldn’t have been enough. Not enough time to take his feelings and throw them away. Not enough time to stop being selfish and keep alive the flame in his heart that wanted him to be the one she was going home to, the one taking her dress off her, the one she would lay her head on after. 

It wasn’t his place anymore. 

And the only person he had to blame was himself. He took her for granted, and now he was paying the price. 

Because no amount of flowers, chocolate cakes, books, or nights out, was going to take back all the pain he put her through. 

And as if to hurt himself more he went to the place that reminded him of her the most; the park where he used to hide when he wanted to see nobody, nobody but her. Their bench was still there, with blue paint coming off and other signs of time, but it was still up, unlike their story. They had shared their first kiss there, if he closed his eyes he could still remember it. It was a warm day in April, and as usual, he was sitting there in silence, and she approached him without saying a word. His past self hated speaking, especially after certain terrible days, and she knew it, but at the start, they didn’t need words. Or maybe it was her, she had so much to give that she didn’t need words to let it be known, and somehow he managed to don’t understand. Somewhere along the lines, he got lost in translation and blamed her for not being the one able to communicate anymore. 

Another flow of tears started streaming down his face as he realized he wasn’t going to feel her lips ever again. He hoped Jeno was going to cherish every single one of her kisses. The gentle pecks on the cheek or forehead in the morning and before bed. The small, quick kisses on the palm of his hands when he told her they were cold. The long, passionate ones when they were making love. The cheeky one when she wanted something. 

And when the hands of the clock moved too far, he got up, head low, hands in his pockets as the sky broke out in a louder cry than his. He had lost all his chances and had been taught a rough lesson about not taking the people he loved the most for granted or leaving them at the slightest rough turn. 

And it was a small consolation that the night sky was crying with him, it was like a shoulder to lean on, as if the upper hands were telling him that maybe there was going to be a rainbow after this storm, that even if he screwed up this one, he was going to find another one, another one that simply wasn’t the one. 

Someone that wasn’t her. 

Tomorrow. 

He repeated in his head as the water seeped into his clothes and stuck his hair to his forehead. 

Tomorrow the sun would’ve shined again, his brain would’ve stopped repeating the scene of her dancing in another man’s arms, or her words as she let him know there was no more space in her life for him. 

But tonight was going to be the loneliest as he walked alone without the best half of him. Only half a man carrying an empty shell in the dark, loud and frenetic streets of Seoul. People running back home barely paying him attention, reminding him once again how lonely you can be in this cruel world if you push the people of your life away. 

It was only a fair punishment he deserved to have. 

But he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t painful. 

Not when he still breathed her, not when she was the best part of him. 

And when he reached the steps of his house he didn’t feel the relief he imagined to feel. 

Those four walls brought him so much emptiness already, he didn’t want to imagine the feeling now. 

But he had no other choice. 

So he took a step forward, sniffling and squeezing his eyes. 

Haechan.

He chuckled bitterly. Voice replaying in his brain, sounding just like when she would scream his name when he used to run away from the school cafeteria to hide from the bullies. 

Haechan. 

He shook his head. Voice replaying in his brain, sounding broken just like when she would find him in the bathroom with his head in the toilet, vomiting everything he had just eaten. 

Haechan. 

He stopped. Voice sounding a bit too real for him to be playing tricks in his mind. 

“Haechan.” 

There she was, soaked in the acid rain, crying, looking at him while her lips quivered, and her body was shaking. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, incredulity filling his voice and eyes. 

“I was at a party, dancing with another man,” she started saying, sniffling. “A man I’m sure loves me so, a man I care about so much, too,” she stopped, taking a deep breath. “And I could only think about you.” 

“You said you can’t pass over what I did. You told me to let you go.” 

She nodded, squeezing in her coat, this was just like when they ended this. “I know… but I would only hurt myself trying to hurt you. And I would even hurt people that don’t deserve this at all. What’s the point of pushing you away if I look for you in every face? What is freedom if I can’t have you? Why am I forcing myself to believe that I can heal if I don’t have you?” 

“So, you’re hurt.” 

“I am, and I hate you so much. I hate you because I can’t truly do it. Because somehow you got so deep inside of me that if I push you out, if I kill you, I’ll kill a part of me, too. I hate you because you’re so… so irrational, and you never think twice, and this makes you do so many dumb things and last time it played us.”

“You don’t have to take me back… as much as I want you, I can’t force you into this.” 

She shook her head. “You’re not. I’m the reckless one that’s jumping into you again, because I would jump into you even if you were an ocean full of sharks, Hyuck. I’d jump into you if you were a volcano. And I know that right now, right where we are, it sounds so toxic and wrong and that Renjun will stop talking to me,” she dramatized with a light chuckle. “But I don’t feel alive when I’m with somebody else. They’re not you. They will never be you.” 

When Haechan didn’t reply she got that she didn’t convince him, and smiled bitterly. 

“We did a mess, didn’t we? I let you treat me like that because I loved you so bad. I would’ve done, and I did, anything just so I could call you mine. I was your willing accomplice. And you know the funny thing? I’d do it all again. I’ll take you back any moment because maybe, after all, we were both going down but didn’t see it with clear eyes. Because we… we are not so different from each other, we are two cowards, we run away thinking things will fix themselves and then act surprised when they fall apart. But if I can’t have you, I see no point in wanting somebody else. Because after all you are and will always be my favorite crime.”

“You’re better than me,” he replied, voice shaking, eyelashes clamping together with tears and rain.  

She shook her head, taking a step forward. 

“I hate you,” she said with a smile on her face. “I hate you so fucking much Lee Donghyuck. You made me fall in love with your dumb self again, I was so sure you would’ve failed...You should’ve let this fall apart, you should’ve given me a reason to hate you but God...I’ve fallen in love again.” 

“I love you,” he said, smiling back, reaching her, caressing her wet cheek. And kissing her. This wasn’t like their other past kisses, this was to seal a promise. This was to wash away the pain with the rain. To look at a brighter future that had rainbows shining in their sky. 

“But if you do it again, if you hurt me half of what you hurt me this time, I won’t be so gentle. I won’t take you back. I hate feeling like I’m going down, Haechan. I can’t take the same pain of the last year together. I can’t deal, and won’t deal with cold stares, and small replies. I won’t tolerate made-up excuses. I’m not like I used to be, I now know my worth. I’m smart, I’m funny, I’m beautiful, I’m a shining diamond and I want to be all of this with you by my side. But if you’ll leave me in the dust again I won’t waste a moment leaving you forever. You lost me once, you won’t get me thrice.” 

“I won’t ever hurt you like that. I learned my lesson,” he replied. “And I’m sorry, I truly am. For all the times I didn’t remind you how much I loved you, or how beautiful I found you. I’m sorry for looking as if I wasn’t listening to you or paying attention to your passions. I’m sorry that I put you in the last place every time. And I’m sorry for betraying you. I’ve spent nights up realizing how wrong what I did with her was. I couldn’t see it, brain fogged by other things that shouldn’t have been my priorities but I promise it won’t happen again. Not with her, not with anybody else.” 

She hummed, “you better because I’ll leave you in the rain if that happens.” 

He chuckled and then lifted her up, her legs wrapped around his waist as she let him carry her inside, the warmth of the house surrounding their freezing bodies immediately. But the cold seeped in their bones again when their wet clothes met the ground on the way to the bedroom. 

“I need you,” she whispered, leaving kisses all over his face, gasping when he let her body fall on the mattress. 

“I’m here,” he replied, kissing her neck, and then her collarbones. “I won’t leave you this time. I will never leave you again.” 

And he made sure to prove it to her with facts, time would’ve talked for his true intentions, but now he had her right there once again and he had to start proving it to her. So he did what he knew she liked best, just like he used to do when they first started dating and he still showed her how much he cherished her. 

“Haechan,” his name came out like a whisper, followed by loud moans when his lips latched at her mound. 

His tongue slipped inside her cunt before pulling out, lips wrapping around her clit sucking with intention. It was like Haechan had a mission, make up for the lost time. His nails dug into her thighs, spreading her wide enough so he could move better and take care of the whole area. It was messy, wet and even loud but none of the two could care. 

The idea of hiding or pulling her legs closed didn’t even cross her mind, just like trying to muffle the sounds of pleasure, letting out moans and whimpers and chants of his name while her hands wrapped around his brown hair and pulled him closer. 

She could feel Haechan grin against her, his chuckle vibrating against her before he pulled away, replacing his tongue with his fingers. “You needed this, didn’t you?” It wasn’t a mock, more like a teasing remark that put his heart at ease when she hummed and nodded. She needed him. She missed him. And he was so unsure of that, that he couldn’t believe it was real and not a product of his fantasy. 

When he dived in again she knew she wasn’t going to last for long. Haechan knew exactly what to do, how to please her, how to get her weak in the knees. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled, lips still pressed against her pussy as he sucked and licked harshly. “You’re always so wet, so so excited for me.” He would’ve liked to ask if it was the same with him, if Jeno ever got her this excited, but he honestly just wanted to forget him. And make sure he didn’t cross her mind. 

When his fingers started moving faster into her and curl deeper, her hips started moving, meeting him halfway. 

“Uh, uh,” he clicked his tongue, his left hand leaving her thigh to press flat against her stomach, “need you to stay right there, baby.” 

“I’m gonna —” she didn’t finish, orgasm ripping out of her thanks to his swift and precise movements, tongue, lips and fingers working together in a deadly mix that left her trembling underneath him, moaning loudly. 

“Haechan,” she called when he didn’t stop, lifting her head to look at him, biting her lips when their eyes met. The way he was looking at her cutting her breath short and making her heart jump. “I don’t think I can…” 

“Take it?” He asked, pulling away, breath fanning on her soaked clit. “Babe, was it seriously so disappointing? Not used anymore to come over and over again until you’re nothing but a mess underneath me?” 

She hummed, closing her eyes, pressing her feet against the mattress. “I… I am, it’s just…” 

“It’s just?” He teased, curling his fingers, hitting the sweet spot inside her, making her scream. 

“You’re too… too good at this,” she confessed. 

Haechan smirked proudly, lips attacking her clit again, sucking with strength, pushing her over the edge for the second time.  

“Stop, stop, stop,” she mumbled, thighs closing around him and hips bucking messily. 

He scoffed. “I need to put you on the right track again.” 

She looked at him with foggy eyes, skin burning up as she stared at the way he was pumping his cock slowly. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Haechan whispered, running his hands on her body, caressing the curves before he leaned in to kiss her, moving his body between her legs. “Are you on the pill?” 

She hummed in agreement, biting her lips, and spreading her legs more. Haechan’s hand placed next to her head, while the other held his cock as he rubbed the tip against her slit. 

“Please, I need you,” she whined, hating the way he was teasing her. It had been too long since they had each other to play these games. 

“How much do you need me?” He asked, kissing her lips before doing the same on her neck, biting it enough to make blood come up on the surface. 

“So, so much,” she whispered through gritted teeth, breath shaking at the say he was still teasing her entrance and her clit. “Need you to make me forget about everything and everyone, please.” 

With a low groan, he slipped inside, thick tip enough to light a fire inside of her and make her hands reach for his back, pulling him closer. 

“Always ready for me,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall in the crook of her neck as he bottomed in. “Always so tight and wet, fuck.” 

“For you,” she whispered, rolling her hips against him, signalling him to move. “Just for you.” 

The world disappeared for real when he started moving with calculated and long thrusts, one hand supporting his body up and the other wrapped tightly around her hip. 

“Fuck, missed you so much,” he mumbled through gritted teeth, pulling back from her shoulder to look at her face. “Missed your thighs,” he whispered, gripping her there, pulling her legs further apart, and pressing them against the mattress. “Missed your lips, so fucking much.” 

She moaned in the heated kiss, hands wrapping in his hair and tugging, making him groan. 

“Nobody comes close to you, no matter how much I tried to — fuck — convince myself,” he whispered, a string of spit still connecting their lips. 

“Harder,” she whimpered, “I — I want you to mark me.” 

Haechan groaned, and obeyed, starting to suck on her collarbones and bite on her skin while his hands squeezed tighter around her skin, on her thighs, on her hips, everywhere he could. 

“Mine,” he groaned. “Always have been mine, never stopped being mine.” 

She knew it was true, that no matter how much she tried to fool herself there was something that was always going to tie her to him. 

“Never stopped loving you,” he whispered against the skin of her neck before his hands moved her body closer to his, angling it so he could hit better inside of her. 

“Fuck,” she moaned, head rolling back and her hand hitting the mattress at her side. “I’m close, again.” 

“Come, baby. I told you I’m not going to stop.” 

And another orgasm washed over her, but Haechan gave her no time to recharge, fucking into her with the same rhythm that drove her crazy. 

“I — I can’t believe this is real,” he whispered, sitting straight, eliciting a disappointed sound from her lips at the loss of contact. “I dreamed of you every night, it was like a — fuck — a nightmare. And it still wasn’t close to this, to you. You’re a dream and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you enough, I’m…” 

She moved up with difficulty, pulling him close to her again, kissing his fears, and tears, away. “I’m here now. And I won’t leave if you won’t leave me behind.” 

Haechan sniffled, shaking his head because this wasn’t the time to be vulnerable. “I won’t. I won’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” 

“Good,” she whispered, falling against the bed again, smiling when he got closer to her and started kissing her, a long, sloppy kiss while he kept fucking into her.

“You feel too good, I’m gonna come,” he hissed, the pace of his hips slowing down because he didn’t want this to stop. He wanted more. He wanted to stay buried inside of her all night until they were nothing but a mess of limbs and bones that for some miracle still fit together. 

And she knew exactly what was running in his brain. “Come, you can fuck me again. I don’t want you to stop.” It might’ve been a lot to take but she needed it. She needed it with him. To feel their skin rub against each other, and have the room filled with their lewd sounds of fleshes and wetness and moans. 

Her words were enough to push him over the edge. White cum spilling inside of her while his hips came to a stop against her ass. 

“Want to ride you,” she whimpered, placing her hands on his chest when he calmed down and making him roll to the side. 

Haechan didn’t complain, why would he anyway? And let her adjust on him, grinding on his cock, not even giving it time to soften. 

“I love you,” he murmured, looking up at her, sliding down on his cock slowly, the light from outside lighting up her features and her curves. “So much I can’t believe I was so stupid to let you go and not treat you right.” 

“Yes, you were,” she said, nails scratching his chest as she started to move her hips slowly, feeling him rub against her inside just like she wanted, filling her like only he could. “But I’m,” she stopped, words dying in her mouth. “I’m here, and I don’t want to think about it.” 

Haechan hummed, hands wrapping around her waist, guiding her movements. 

She rolled her head back, mouth hanging open since she couldn't hold in any sounds, the stimulation of his cock and her clit rubbing against him was making her go crazy. And Haechan knew it, she was still an open book and he remembered how to read her again. 

“Fuck, babe,” he moaned, cupping her ass and squeezing the flesh hard. She started bouncing on him faster, hands steady on his chest before one reached for his neck and wrapped around it tightly. 

“Revenge?” 

She chuckled, “I should kill you to get revenge but, fuck,” she stopped, thighs shaking and hips faltering as she could feel they were both so close again. “I love you too much.” 

“That’s it, fuck, keep moving like that,” he hummed, eyes moving from her face to her boobs that were bouncing up and down. 

Her moans got higher, fingers grazing his skin and hips slamming messily against him, Haechan started moving against her, meeting her halfway. And in a few seconds, they were both coming, this orgasm stronger the last one, leaving them panting on top of each other. 

“I got you, I’m here,” he whispered, caressing her back and hair when he heard small sobs from her. 

She hummed, hiding in the crook of his neck, staying silent for a while, enjoying his caresses and the way he was still filling her, lulling herself in the warmth of his body and the delicateness of his hands caressing her back while he whispered sweet nothings in her ears. 

“Please, don’t ever leave me again. I don’t even want to choose between having you in my life or not.” 

“I won’t. I promise I’ll treat you right just like when we first met.”

“I love you,” she whispered, rolling to the side, snuggling close to him again, leaving pecks on his shoulder and chest. 

“I love you, too,” he replied, caressing her hair and pressing his lips on her forehead. Still unsure this wasn’t all a trick of his mind and that she was truly there, in his arms. And it sure, it was going to be a long path trying to fix what was broken, but he couldn’t care. He was in his happy place and that was all that mattered. 

Things would’ve fallen into pieces, step by step, eventually, with time, tomorrow. 

Now, it was fine like this, with the storm raging outside and their hearts beating as one, lulling them to sleep as they found peace realizing that with others they were happy, but together they were happier.

a/n: I hope you liked it, please let me know your opinion whatever it is, I’ve read so many theories before publishing it and I’d like to know what you think after reading it (be polite ofc). Also, let me know if you’d like to read another part, I feel bad for Jeno and I had in mind to address how his relationship with the mc ended better here but then I decided to end it like this, mostly because it was already long. If you’d like to read more, though, I’d write it. And also let me know if you want to be kept/added to the taglist in case I’ll write more.