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#i do try to never self harm while intoxicated. but i was planning on doing that anyways today lol

dafuq-lyrehc · 2 months

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I haven’t spoken about it much here, but it is the main cause for my mental distress. Besides a car accident being a traumatic experience and me realizing that my intense desire for perfection is so incredibly deep rooted that the thought of me doing something wrong makes me want to vomit and cry, my state is also actively trying to fuck me.

I am a medical marijuana patient and my state has a 0 tolerance policy for marijuana when it comes to driving. So every single med patient in the state is basically a walking dui, bc if the police find out your a patient, they can do a blood test. But if you’re a regular user (like me), there will be marijuana in your blood even in you haven’t used it for an extended period of time. I consume almost everyday bc anxiety and the horrors.

So when I got into my car accident in January, I sustained a concussion and the police officer did a field sobriety test. I failed bc I had a concussion…. But the officer took my blood anyway and if the 3 letters I got in the mail from defense attorneys are any indication, the state will be trying to charge me with a dui even tho I WAS NOT HIGH. I don’t drive while high. The thought of it makes me so anxious that I haven’t even tried it. Completely sober, I’ll get paranoid that I’m intoxicated somehow and am swerving and such (when I’m not) and I’ll get so in my head and panicked. So I don’t drive high.

In addition to this, I got a letter from the state requesting I get some forms filled out by a health care provider to assess if I am unfit to drive bc of some kind of condition, including a substance abuse disorder. If I don’t turn in the forms by Feb 29, they’ll start the process of suspending my license, and if they’re not in by March 30, my license will be suspended.

Well, I finally got health insurance last year after not having it for years. The only doctor I’ve seen since getting health insurance is a dermatologist bc I’ve got a chronic skin thing that causes lots of pain and discomfort when it flairs. I saw a primary care doc for the first time after my car accident to follow up. And I can’t seem to find a doctor who is “comfortable” filling out these forms for me. I asked the state what I should and they told me to go to an urgent care if I can’t get one of my doctors to sign the paperwork. I went to an urgent care and they told me that they legally cannot fill out the forms. So my current plan is to just try and get an appointment with random doctors to see if they will do it.

I’ve been trying so hard not to let the looming depression consume me, but the depression got hands. It feels inevitable to lose my license, and I’m just so fucking tired. I feel like I’ve been in this survival mode for my whole life and I try so hard to do the “right things”, but it doesn’t seem to even matter.

Unfortunately, the self harm and suicidal ideation are back. ✌️ I’m trying so hard, and it feels like the effort has never gotten me anywhere. Like maybe the issue is I should just lay down and take it. Surrender and submit. I know it’s the depression talking, but like I said this depression got hands. Can’t drown my demons, they know how to swim. And I’m barely treading water

I also feel so guilty for feeling this way. The accident showed me that there are actually a lot of people in my life who care about me, and I don’t want them to be disappointed. I don’t want to waste their support and let them down. I just really don’t want to be here. Never have, maybe never will

#like please I’m so tired #just let me rest #tw mention of self harm #tw depression #update

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words-are-sexy · 2 years

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First Date, pt 1

After a couple months of getting close with Draco meeting at the astronomy tower, he gives you your first date. Can you have a nice night before something bad happens?

(In this fic, you’re twins with harry, but were raised by Wolfstar. Professor Lupin is currently teaching at the school.)

CW: Brief mentions of self harm, other than that pure fluff :)

The ride back to Hogwarts was uneventful. I sat with Harry and his friends. I was silently hoping Draco would walk by my compartment, but I knew it was likely best if he didn’t because I’d turn into a blushing mess most likely. Once we were off the train I saw Papa and he gave me a hug.

“Have a good night sweetheart. Get lots of sleep. Come see me Tuesday night for tea yeah?”

“Sure, sounds good Papa. I love you; I’ll see you then.”

I rushed back to my dorm. 7:00. Okay, I had an hour. Draco and I agreed to meet at 8:00. I changed out of my robes and into a nice pair of pants, and my favourite shirt. I also put on my favourite red underwear for good measure. I touched up my makeup, brushed my hair, and unpacked my things. I looked for my marauders map that Papa had gifted me, and I realized it wasn’t in my bag. I must have left it at Grimmauld Place. With about fifteen minutes to 8, I left my dorm, and prayed to Merlin I wouldn’t run into anyone on my way to the astronomy tower.

He was already there when I got up there. Sitting on the edge. The boy does not smile much, but when I say this I mean: his face lit up when he turned around. He stood up and hugged me so lovingly. The smell of his cologne was enough to get me high. I was home again.

“Godric, I missed you. How was your break?” He said to me, with his face buried in my hair.

“It was okay. Good to see Dad again. What about you?”

“Meh, I’m very much happy to be back with you.” He takes a minute, then softly places his hands on my cheeks and meets my gaze. He says to me softly, with nothing but the utmost concern in his eyes and in his voice. “Can you be honest with me when I ask you this?”

His eyes were so full of concern I knew I wasn’t being set up, so I nodded.

“Did you hurt yourself at all while you were home?”

I smile slightly and shake my head. “No Draco, I promise I didn’t.”

His smile widens. “I’m so proud of you. I know how tough it is, believe me darling. You’re doing so well.” He softly kisses my lips. “So proud.”

I didn’t really think I deserve the praise, but wow, it sure feels good.

“As your reward, I have a very special night planned, like I promised. Here is the first part.”

He hands me a bag with clothes in it. There’s dark green fuzzy socks, a pair of brand new gray sweatpants, and a slightly used emerald green hoodie. His hoodie. I look up at him a bit confused.

“I figured you’d try and dress up for this, but I don’t need you beautiful to do this. I want you warm, and comfortable. Because I’m going to give you a real date night first.”

I just stood there for a moment, unable to speak. This was the moment I knew I meant something to him. I smiled so wide, and kissed him again. He chuckled and said, “So, go over there and change while I get set up, yeah?” “Set up? Wh-” His lips pressed on mine to shut me up. “Hey, no questions. Go get changed.” He raised his eyebrow and chuckled. What was he planning?

I went around the corner and changed into the pants, put the socks on, and then the sweater. It smelled of his cologne. Godric, it was intoxicating. I hope he doesn’t want it back. When I turned the corner, I smiled immediately. He looked so proud.

“I was able to find one of those muggle projectors you were talking about. And I got some movies you talked about too. The old ones. I figured we could watch some. I’ve never really watched a film before.”

“Draco, I….this…it’s incredible. You remembered the movies I told you about?”

He looked at me like that was the craziest question he had ever heard. “Well yeah, of course I did. Mostly because some of the named were really funny.”

He pulls out some tapes. “Tell me what one you want to watch first.”

I look through them. He found The Goonies, The Breakfast Club, Rocky, Shawshank Redemption, Grease and Footloose. He really found all my favourites. I don’t think he will ever be able to know how much this means to me. I look up and see him waiting patiently for me to choose. I smile and hand him a tape. “I think you’ll like the Shawshank Redemption the best. Let’s watch that.”

“Okay, I’ll put it on. While I’m getting it ready, set up the snack I brought.”

I look to my left and see a basket. Inside, there are green apple slices, yogurt dip, some nuts and berries, ad chocolate covered strawberries. “Draco, where did you-“

He sighs and turns around. “You ask too many questions Lupin. Just get it out!” I chuckle and do what he says. When I am done, he is ready. He uses his wand to lay out a blanket and pillows, and sits against a post across from the screen he opens his arm for me to place myself by his side. I do immediately. I missed his embrace. He kisses the top of my head as the movie starts. I take a deep breath and relax. The nosiness in me takes over. “S really, where did you get all this food?”

He chuckles, like he was expecting this question. “I have a very good reputation with the house elves here. It did not take much convincing for them to want to make me a basket.” He reaches down and grabs a strawberry and puts it close to my mouth. I chuckle and take a bite. He finishes it off himself. I snuggle myself into him and he rests his chin on top of my head, and we watch the movie. Draco watches it intently. He is mesmerized by it. I’m so happy he enjoys it. This movie reminds me of my dad. Someone who’s imprisoned for a crime they didn’t commit, and manages to escape.

When the credits roll, I look up at Draco.

“Wow, Genevieve, I…that was amazing! That muggle really spent years and years digging a hole through his wall, just to get out!”

I chuckle. “Yeah, that’s how prison escapes happen in the muggle world Dray.” I sigh and say, kind of quietly. “That’s why I like this movie so much,” I focus on his chest, running my finger around the buttons on his shirt. “’Cause, the whole time, you just hope he’s able to get out. ‘Cause you know he’s innocent. And you don’t even realize how much work he puts into his escape. Crafting a whole new identity, digging with a little file for years, and it actually works. It’s the best movie ending ever.”

He looks down at me with the utmost adoration in his eyes. “You really like movies, huh?”

I focus on his chest moving up and down as he breaths, and nod thoughtfully. “Yeah. I do. Sometimes I just like turning my brain off and focusing on someone else’s life, y’know? Same with my books and my music.”

He thinks about that for a moment. “I guess that does make sense. Obviously I haven’t watched these movies like you have, but I feel the same way about books. But, I want to watch the movies that make you feel. I feel like I’d get to know you better that way.”

I look up to him and shyly smile. “I’ll show you all my favourite movies, if you read me all your favourite books.”

He chuckles and kisses me, placing his hand under my chin to life my face up. “That, my dear, I can promise to do.”

We sat like that for a while. Just snuggled up together. I was waiting for him to suggest we go further, like we had sort of planned before the break, but honestly, I was very content just listening to his shallow breathing. Whether we spent minutes, or hours like this, I wasn’t sure, but I would have rather had quite literally anything else happen besides what happened next.

#wolfstar x daughter #remuslupindaughter #draco fluff #draco malfoy fluff

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scxrsgxrd · 3 years

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A Roman request I received through my DMs: Could you do a smut that’s like really dirty and absolutely rough with a blood kink then with a little bit of sweet aftercare. I hope you enjoy! :)

This piece is 18+ and contains a period/blood kink.

(Time for some nasty Roman.)

“Get fucking dressed.” Roman hissed for the sixth time that evening, rubbing at his temples as you frowned and shook your head once more, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you lay flat on your back on the couch.

You had started your period the previous morning, and as ever, it happened to come at the most inconvenient time. Roman had some function at Godfrey Industries in around an hours time, and your cramps were debilitating. You had spent most of the day with a tub of chocolate ice cream and a hot water bottle pressed against your lower half, while Roman growled and muttered a different insult each time he walked past you.

“I mean it, sweetheart.” Roman leaned his head forward, almost showing his teeth like an aggressive dog as his voice lowered. You knew you were in for it, but you just could not bring yourself to put on a fancy gown and heels while Roman paraded you around in front of a large group of posh, old snobs.

“Ro, I told you. Go without me.” You mumbled, trying to shoo him away as you craned your head to the television screen to browse through Netflix once more. A loud gasp left you as Roman snatched the remote out of your hand and launched it across the room, cocking his brow.

“Yeah? Now what? Looks like you’re gonna have to come with me.” He folded his arms defiantly, nodding his head toward the stairs to indicate for you to get dressed.

You rolled your eyes and glared at him for a few seconds, but you knew there was no way of bargaining with him. You dramatically swung your legs off the couch and stood up, dragging the blanket with you. But Roman’s attention had been lost on you. His eyes were fixed on the couch. It wasn’t the couch itself he was glaring down at, rather a stain on the cushion, a red stain.

“Shit.” You muttered, your cheeks flushing as looked downwards to see that your sweatpants had an identical stain on them. Roman’s gaze flickered between your crotch and the sofa, his pupils beginning to dilate as he swiped his tongue over his bottom lip.

“I’m sorry, Roman. I’ll go get something to clean it with.” You were about to rush into the kitchen when Roman sidestepped in front of you.

“Lie down.” His voice was low again, but not like before. This time his tone wasn’t laced with anger.

Now you were the defiant one. You cocked your brow in the same way Roman had done just a few minutes earlier. “I thought I needed to get dressed.”

“Lie. Down.”

The look on his face made you gulp. You lay down on the sofa, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, the anticipation began to make your lower half tingle. Sex with Roman was feral, but sex with Roman while on your period went so far beyond this that there was no accurate way to describe it.

Roman stood still, his eyes resting on the stain covering the front of your sweatpants as his nostrils flared slightly. The scent was intoxicating to him, and he could feel his self control begin to dwindle as he stepped over to the couch.

But Roman was careful, as he knelt on the edge of the sofa he reached over and rested his fore and middle fingers under your chin.

“You don’t mind me doing this?” He murmured, taking a deep breath as he gripped onto his thigh with his other hand, he was desperate to taste you, to feel your warmth against his tongue.

“No, Roman. I don’t mind.” You smiled at him, helping him to pull down your sweatpants and panties.

A low groan left Roman when he saw the tampon still inside you, curling the string around his finger as he gave it a gentle tug, his whole body tensing as he watched it exit you, a small pool of blood leaking onto the couch as he pulled slowly and carefully.

“Roman.” You hissed, feeling your cheeks flush. He flashed you his trademark wicked smirk, tossing the tampon over his shoulder and setting his gaze on his ultimate prize.

Roman was never one to hold back; and administering oral sex was no different. His tongue immediately delved into your folds, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when the taste of you hit his tongue. For Roman, there was nothing more sexy than giving you head during your time of the month. Not only were you more sensitive but he derived pleasure from it too, his animalistic nature revelling in the sight before him.

You felt your back arch off the couch when Roman attached his lips onto your clit, sucking and licking the most sensitive part of you while his middle finger teased at your entrance, easing itself in as Roman shoved both of your legs over his shoulders to allow him better access. It didn’t take long for you to get close, you began to squirm as your walls squeezed Roman’s finger, indicating to him that you were just seconds away from release; but that didn’t fit his plan.

“Not just yet, honey, You’re gonna cum while I’m fucking you.” Roman’s voice was gruff, and when he pulled backwards you could see the red coating on his lips and chin. When Roman removed his finger from you he looked into your eyes as he brought the finger up to his lips, and you let out a small gasp when he slid it between his lips. A growl left him as he licked and sucked his finger clean, the small taster of you only left him wanting more.

He began to unbuckle his belt, nimble fingers moving as quickly as they could. You sat up slightly and pulled at his dress pants until they were round his ankles, rubbing your palm over the growing bulge in his boxers while Roman’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

“Daddy’s gonna fuck you, and he’s gonna fuck you real hard, m’kay?”

All you could do was nod as Roman began to position himself above you, he knelt between your thighs and hooked his large hands behind your knees, sliding your legs back over his shoulders, almost mimicking the position he had you in just minutes ago. When he rose up on his knees you winced slightly at the stretch, but before you could register this pain Roman slammed into you with all his mite, a loud squeak escaping from you as your jaw went slack.

Roman kept this impressive pace, one hand gripping at a cushion while the other rested on your thigh to keep you in position. Every few seconds he’d glance down at where you were both connected, marvelling at the sight of his crimson coated cock. This was the sight that Roman got off on. This was the time when his godforsaken monster-half could take over him, and though he had little control over his upir nature, he knew he would never allow himself to hurt you. No matter how caught up he became during this time, no part of him would inflict harm on the person he loved most in the fucked up world he apart of.

You could tell that Roman was stuck inside his head, so you reached your hand up and cupped the left side of his jaw, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in. He gave you a small smile in return, and released his grip on the cushion to put his fingers to better use. His thumb began to trace harsh circles on your clit, and you could feel the tension begin to build up inside of you, only made more intense by Roman’s relentless thrusts as he rolled his hips into you at a slower pace. He knew this would make you feel every movement, and in the second where you thought you were going to implode Roman found your sweet spot, the spot that made your face contort and your whole body freeze.

“Mmm, that’s right sweetheart. Let it all out for daddy.” Roman cooed as he angled his hips to hit that spot over and over. This combined with the feeling of his thumb pressed against your clit was enough for you to let go of the orgasm that had been brewing up inside you. Your arms flailed, hands trying to grab whatever they could as you felt the rush of pleasure course through your body, incoherent babblings leaving your lips as your whole body convulsed.

Witnessing you let go because of his own ministrations made Roman’s cock twitch, and his thrusting became sloppier as his shoulders stooped. He turned his head to one side, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your inner thigh before sinking his teeth into it, grunting and growling as you felt hot spurts of his cum fill you.

You lay there panting while Roman pulled out of you, gazing down at the blood covering his cock as you kicked his thigh gently and ordered him to clean himself up.

After a few minutes he sauntered back over to you, a wet towel in one hand and a tampon in the other. You watched as he spread your legs, wiping over your thighs with the towel before ghosting it up and down your pussy, cocking his brow as you jolted slightly. He chuckled as you frowned at him and unwrapped the tampon, sliding a cushion underneath your ass to allow him a better view for his task. Roman managed to expertly insert the tampon inside you and planted a kiss on your clit, murmuring softly to you about how much of a good girl you had been for him. You knew that while he was in one of his softer moods you could try to push your luck with him.

“Do this mean we can stay in tonight?”

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey smut

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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

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Book of the Dead

Genre: The Mummy AU

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

Summary: After traveling to the fabled city of Hamunaptra, you read from the Book of the Dead and accidentally resurrect an ancient mummy with extraordinary powers and quest for revenge. The only thing to do now is try and convince your less-than-traditional guide to help you save the world.

Part 1 I Part 2

“I just said a few sentences!”

“What did you do that for!”

“Well, I didn’t know that that would happen!”

You stared at the aggravating, self-absorbed, cocky Korean soldier and wondered why on earth you had decided to negotiate for this man’s life.

Alright, you did know why. You needed him to show you to Hamunuptra - the fabled City of the Dead.

Too many times you had stood in front of the museum curator with pages and pages of references and evidence that the place existed and just needed a small team of archeologists in order to track it down. He’d shot you down every time. And each time he took the liberty of reminding you that while your father was an exceptional explorer who had many successes under his belt, you were a woman whose life had been spent between the shelves, cataloging. Your adventures consisted of the fictional kind, devouring any novel you could when you weren’t archiving the latest crate of artifacts and texts.

Then your cousin showed up. Your normally useless, hare-brained, erratic, drunkard cousin showed up at your apartment with a “fun new artifact” he found on his latest trip. And suddenly your luck had completely turned around.

Or so you thought.

Now you were standing in the middle of Hamunaptra, feet sinking into the unstable sand, with an empty sarcophagus and everyone blaming you because you did what you did best - read.

It was only a book. Albeit, a very heavy, possibly-made-of-painted-solid-gold book that was written in the dead language of ancient Egypt, but still. What harm had ever come from reading a book?

Kim Junmyeon stared at you as if you were the one who had risen from the dead. You were still stunned at how different he looked from when you had first met him in that smelly prison, minutes away from being hanged. His hair had been long and stringy, clumps of dirt clinging to the dark brown strands that brushed his shoulders. Now it was shorter, cut above his ears and gelled back in the current style that almost made him look like a gentleman. The several days’ stubble was long gone to reveal smooth skin and a sharp jawline. He was actually very handsome - when he was cleaned up.

Stupid, you hissed at yourself. Now was not the time for this. Because right now there seemed to be a reanimated mummy running around here. And by the looks of Barney’s husk of a body lying deep within the temple underground, it was hungry.

As it should be, given the three thousand years it spent locked up under piles of sand.

“Really, you should have been more careful!” your cousin, Baekhyun, scolded.

You scoffed. “You’re one to talk. You were the one who snatched the key off of Mr. Kim here at one of your seedy bars and then proceeded to lie to me and say that you found it on a dig in Thebes which in turn brought us here!”

Baekhyun opened and closed his mouth as he searched for a possible retort.

“I think this is more your fault,” Kim Junmyeon’s own cousin and traveling partner, Oh Sehun, said. “You told us to go down a level and dig under the statue, which in turn,” he mocked your tone almost precisely, “caused the mummy to be able to get out of his sarcophagus. If we had dug somewhere else entirely, then he’d still be trapped under the statue of Anubis.”

“Despite the fact that it was two layers deep, nothing would have been able to hold a victim of the Hom-Dai.”

“Would have given poor Barney a chance,” Kim Junmyeon muttered under his breath. You shot him a glare that he hardly noticed.

“I say that we get out of here and to the safety of the city before the mummy finds us.” Oh Sehun swallowed thickly. “Or worse. The beetles find us.” The supposedly brave soldier who had two pistols hanging under each arm was more terrified of the flesh eating bugs than he was the living mummy that was bringing about the ten plagues of Egypt. You’d already lived through the locust infestation, but that was always the most minor of the plagues. In your opinion.

“We told you to leave,” Ardeth said in that low, monotone voice that made him seem centuries old. You had only known him for a few hours, but you already feared and respected him. Despite the fact that he had attacked your campsite the night before. “Now you have condemned the whole world to the very monster that we have spent three thousand years keeping hidden.”

Kim Junmyeon finally tore his face away from yours. “I told you. I shot him. He went down.”

“Mortal weapons are useless against this creature. None can kill him.” Stepping up, he stood toe to toe with the soldier who led you here. “A gun is nothing more than a fly to him. He will never eat. He will never sleep. And he will never stop. Not until this world is only sand.”

Though still not completely backing down, Kim Junmyeon took hold of your arm. “Come on. We’re going back to Cairo.”

The camel ride back to the city was long, tiring, and a bit painful, if you were honest. The inside of your thighs were sore from keeping you up right on the animal’s back for hours on end under the blazing heat. You were used to the comfortable back seat of a car, even if the roads here tended to be on the bumpier side. Kim Junmyeon stayed at your side the entire time, up until you were back in your hotel room. All your things were still in there. That was nice, even if it was to be expected. The desk clerk had sworn he would keep the room reserved for you until you made it back. And now that you had, you were on to the next fight.

“We’re not going anywhere!”

Kim Junmyeon pretended not to hear you as he started emptying the dresser drawers of your clothes and stuffing them in your suitcases lying open on the bed.

“Excuse me! I said we’re not going anywhere!” As soon as he stepped away again, you slammed the suitcase shut. A stray white cat that you didn’t have the heart to remove from your room took advantage of the newly available space and laid down on the surface of the luggage. Unbothered by the argument taking place in its presences, it purred as it curled into a ball and closed its eyes.

“You keep using the word ‘we’ and I’m not sure why,” he said. “I believe you were the one who woke him up in the first place.”

“Yes, I get it!” you shouted. “Everyone can blame me because I read the damn book, but that is why we need to stop him.”

He closed the empty drawer and turned back around to face you. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that? You heard Ardeth. No mortal weapon can kill this guy.”

“That’s why we’re going to find some immortal ones.”

He pulled a pair of rounded glasses from his pocket, wiped the lenses with his shirt, and stuck them on the bridge of his nose. “There goes that ‘we’ business again.”

You huffed, trying not to focus on the newest version of the soldier now being presented in front of you. “Yes, we. Because this curse will continue to get worse until the whole world is destroyed.”

“And that’s my problem?”

“It is everybody’s problem! You live here, too!”

Kim Junmyeon stepped up until he was mere inches away. “Listen. I appreciate you saving my life and all, but when I agreed to this idiotic mission my objective was to show you the way and then bring you back here. I have done that. End of job. End of story. Contract terminated.”

You tried not to show how his last few words affected you. Though you had been a little intoxicated two nights ago, you still very much remembered how sweet he had been, how he had listened to you go on and on about your parents and how much you wanted to be a famous adventurer like your father. And how you almost kissed him. And how he was going to kiss you back. Stupidly, you had thought that there was something growing between you. Apparently, you had been wrong.

“Is that all I am to you?” you whispered. “A contract?”

Kim Junmyeon blew out haughtily from his nose. His Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You waited in hopes that he would contradict you. That he would say, no that was not all you were to him. And it really seemed like he would be saying something along those lines. But other words came out instead.

“Look. You can either come with me or you can try and stay here and save the world. So. What’s it going to be?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “I’m staying.”

“Fine.” He headed for the door.

“Fine,” you bit back, following him.

“Fine,” he threw at you again as he barely glanced over his shoulder.

“Fine!”

He got the last word in before slamming the door to your room shut.

You huffed as you crossed your arms. Yet, as angry as you were, you still hoped that he would come back. That he wouldn’t let you take this on alone. But the footsteps on the other faded away and you were alone.

Looking around your room, you didn’t think there was much you could do. So, you did what you were best at. You grabbed all the books you thought could help you and got to reading.

While sitting in the wicker chair in the corner, you skipped around the books and pages, clinging on to any small word that you thought could lead you to a possible solution. There wasn’t much to be found, unfortunately. Most works spoke of how to perform the Hom-Dai and how it should never be performed due to the curse that awaits should the victim ever be awakened. You already knew that. You needed specifics on what to do after the victim came back.

“(Y/n)!”

Kim Junmyeon came bursting back into your room. You slammed the book in your hands closed, feeling very high and mighty indeed.

“Ah. Mr. Kim. Have you changed your mind?”

“Doesn’t matter now, he’s here!”

“What!”

He didn’t clarify as he hoisted you up out of the chair and pulled you out of the room, and into the hall. Through the windows, you watched in horror as fire fell from the heavens. The balls of flame engulfed anything it touched when it landed, whether it be plant or human life. Turning a corner, Kim Junmyeon ran into a room you knew was occupied by another one of the Americans that you had ran into on your way to Hamunaptra. You gasped.

In the chair, now nothing more than dried, husky skin and hollow bones was… oh, dear you couldn’t remember his name. You hadn’t bothered to learn them. You and Baekhyun had simply referred to them as the “Bloody Americans”. You were feeling a bit awful about that at the moment.

But you didn’t have much time to dwell on that. Standing in front of the fireplace was a new version of the mummy. His skin was starting to come together, though patches were still missing, allowing you to see the gray bone and lack of organs underneath. Kim Junmyeon pulled out both of his guns as the mummy stalked forward.

“We are in deep trouble,” he murmured before opening fire. The loud pops banged on your poor eardrums. You stumbled back a few steps to try and soften their blows. It didn’t work.

The bullets passed through the mummy as if they didn’t exist at all. Even when Oh Sehun and the other Americans came running into the room and firing off their own guns, the mummy still kept going. He shoved Kim Junmyeon back into the others as if he were nothing more than old wrappings. Then he turned on you.

Completely unarmed, you stumbled back until you were betrayed by the bookshelf behind you. There was nowhere to run. Instead of sucking out your liver, however, he spoke.

“You were the one who saved me from the afterlife.” His words were haunting, echoing as if he was speaking in a cavern. And the language he spoke… ancient Egyptian. You weren’t sure why you expected to speak anything else. Coming in closer, he lowered his voice. “I thank you.”

He leaned in his head, those very human eyes lowering to your lips. You turned your head away to try and avoid the kiss, confused as to why he was trying to seduce you.

Sharp, unpleasing notes from the piano pierced through the air. The mummy turned and gasped when he saw the white cat from your room walking across the keys. In a whirl of sand, he fled from the room.

“Oh, thank god,” you said with a heavy breath.

“No kidding,” Kim Junmyeon groaned as he sat up.

You ran to his side, fearful that he might have been injured. “Are you alright, Mr. Kim?”

“Yes,” he huffed. With a very odd expression, he added, “And I told you to call me Junmyeon.”

To be honest, after your fight, you didn’t think you would be allowed to anymore. A strange silence settled between you. He was trying to say something with his gaze, but you couldn’t interpret it. So, instead, you helped him to his feet. “Come on. I know who we need to talk to about all of this.”

It took a while to get back to the museum that had employed you for the past year or so. Every street was full of panicking people. Flames no longer fell from the heavens, but little fires still raged on homes and carts. The Americans had declared that they were coming along, so your group was slower in moving. Although you didn’t really want the mummy bait to be anywhere near you, Junmyeon and Sehun decided that it would be better to keep an eye on them and - hopefully - keep them out of the mummy’s grasp.

“Dr. Bey!” You ran into the museum’s main storage room, happy when you saw the curator. But then you skidded to a stop at the sight that he wasn’t alone.

Ardeth was talking with him in hushed tones that stopped the second you appeared. Both men turned towards you, the curator wearing a very readable expression. It was one that stunk of “I told you so”. The others were only a few steps behind. As soon they, too, saw the unexpected visitor, Junmyeon, Sehun, and the Americans pulled out their guns while Baekhyun simply squeaked in surprise.

“Gentlemen,” Dr. Bey greeted as if this were any old meeting on a Tuesday.

“What is he doing here?” Junmyeon demanded. Even with the black tattoos etched under Ardeth’s eyes, you could tell that he was tired, dark circles from lack of sleep bruising his skin.

Dr. Bey raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you want to know? Or perhaps you would prefer to just shoot us?”

“Either sounds good.” Junmyeon cocked back the hammer of one of his guns for emphasis.

“Stop it,” you hissed. “Bullets won’t do any good here. Besides, you might damage some of the artifacts.”

Junmyeon failed to suppress a laugh over your concern. Despite the present danger, you still didn’t want to see the carriages or sacred jars damaged because someone got trigger happy. So, Junmyeon holstered his guns and the others soon followed suit. “All right. I’ll give a little faith.”

Dr. Bey motioned for the group to follow him in deeper. “We’re part of a secret society-”

“Aren’t they all?” Baekhyun muttered. Both you and Dr. Bey shot him glares that made him snap his mouth shut.

“For over three thousand years, we have guarded the City of the Dead. Once we reach manhood, we swear an oath to do anything and everything in our power to stop the high priest Imhotep from rising from the grave.”

“And now we have failed. Thanks to you.” Ardeth gave you a particularly pointed look.

By now, you were getting very irritated with the constant finger pointing. What was done was done. You were not going to show him any cowardice. “And that justifies the murder of innocent people?”

“Hm. To stop this creature?” Dr. Bey pretended to think for a moment. “Yes.”

Junmyeon, untroubled by that, raised his hand from the golden seat of a dead royal that he had taken over. “I have a question. Why doesn’t he seem to like cats?”

“Cats are the guardians of the underworld. He will fear them until he reaches full regeneration.”

“Then there will be nothing that he fears.” Worry was very much apparent in the soldier’s voice.

“And you know how he gets regenerated?” one of the Americans asked rhetorically.

The other one finished. “By tracking those of us down who opened the chest and sucking us dry like a nomad in the desert, that’s how!”

It was completely pointless to go over the things that were already known. Now was the time to try and piece the unused parts together. Two particular moments were sticking out in your head.

“Back in Hamunaptra, the priest - Imhotep - he called me Ack-Su-Namun. And then just now at the hotel, he….” You cringed at the memory, thankful that you didn’t have to feel the decomposed skin against your own. “He tried to kiss me.”

“It’s because of Anck-Su-Namun and his love for her that he was cursed,” Dr. Bey explained, exchanging a look with Ardeth. “Even after all this time….”

“He’s still in love with her?” Sehun finished with a scoff.

You appreciated the backstory, however - “As romantic as that is, what does that have to do with me?”

“Perhaps he will try to raise her from the dead once again?” Ardeth guessed.

“Yes,” Dr. Bey agreed solemnly. “And it would seem that he has already chosen his human sacrifice.”

All eyes in the room turned to you. Wonderful.

Not only were you the one who read from the book and raised him, but you would also be responsible for the return of his beloved, who was the reason he was cursed in the first place. Absolutely beautiful.

Baekhuyn came up behind you and patted your shoulder. “That is some rotten luck, dear cousin.”

“Actually, this could work in our favor,” Dr. Bey countered. “It could give us time that we desperately need to kill the creature.”

“We’ll need every second, I think,” Sehun said. He pointed towards the ceiling. “I think he’s getting stronger.”

Through the large window high up on the wall, the sun was in clear view. You all watched in horror as the moon moved too quickly across the sky and blocked the light from reaching Earth.

“I’m guessing this is the plague of darkness?” Baekhyun said ominously. You nodded slowly.

“Let’s go,” Junmyeon said softly beside you, his hand coming up protectively behind your back. “We’ve got to get back to the hotel and come up with a plan.”

“I’m just saying, it seems very stupid to comdem someone to a curse when the result of that would be for them to come back a supernatural creature who is practically unkillable.”

“The ancient Egyptians believed in balance,” you explained to Baekhyun for the hundredth time in your life. “To curse someone so badly in both this life and the next, there has to be a consequence to balance out the scales. If not, then the whole world could still fall apart, in even worse ways!”

“All of this is kind of pointless now, isn’t it?” Sehun sighed from the small table in the antechamber to your room. His feet were up on the polished surface as he leaned back in his seat. A look of irritation was etched on his face as he stared at your cousin. “What’s done is done. Right now, we need to focus on our next step.”

“Well, I know you two,” you pointed to the Americans, “opened the chest. As well as Barney. Was there anyone else?”

“The Egyptologist that was with us,” the shaggier one answered. “Professor Chamberlain. He has a temporary residence a few blocks over.”

“What about my best friend Beni?” Junmyeon asked. You nearly snorted. You knew the two of them were anything but friends.

“No. He ran out before we took the lid off. Ended up saving his own skin.”

“Sounds like Beni,” Junmyeon said dryly. “Okay. We’re going to go get the Professor. You four,” he pointed to all the men, “come with me. You, stay here.”

Oh, no you weren’t. “Excuse me! I am just as capable as any of them are. I will not- What do you think you’re doing!”

Junmyeon marched over to you, picked you up, and carried you over his shoulder until you were in your room. Then he dropped you on the floor, closed the door, and locked it tight. “This door doesn’t open.”

You didn’t know who he said it to, who he left in charge of watching you like an infant. It didn’t matter. You pounded your fist against the solid wood door. “Baekhyun! Junmyeon! Let me out! Baekhyun, you coward! Help me out here!”

“Sorry, cousin!” Baekhyun yelled on the other side of the door. “But… he’s got a gun.”

“Smart choice,” you heard Junmyeon say. Oh, you were going to kill him. Which “him” was yet to be decided. Perhaps both would be most satisfactory.

Well, now you were stuck here.

Crossing your arms, you sat on the edge of the bed and contemplated your choices. Not that you had many.

A yawn forced its way out. You were tired. Over the past few days, you had hardly been able to get any real sleep. And, well, now seemed to be a time. So, you changed into your nightgown and slipped under the covers. The mattress was soft, like a cloud. The pillows were stuffed into freshly cleaned cotton cases. It was barely a few minutes before you drifted off…

And then abruptly woke up to something moving against your mouth. It started out soft but quickly turned ashen and tough. Your eyes flew open and you screamed, the sound muffled by the kiss of Imhotep!

You tried to shove him off, but he didn’t budge. Your touch meant nothing to him as he continued the unwanted kiss.

The door to your room burst open, finally taking his attention and allowing your scream to be heard at full volume. Imhotep’s face was half rotten away, his lips completely gone, the cheeks held together by thin strips of jerky-like skin. You scrambled out of reach, to try and get as far away as the tiny room would allow. The movement caused you to fall out of the bed and land hard on the wood floor.

Standing up, Imhotep said something in ancient Egyptian, but your jumbled, still half-asleep brain couldn’t translate it.

“Oh, really?” Junmyeon mocked. “Here’s my answer.” He held up the poor cat who had saved you earlier, the animal hissing threateningly at the mummy. Just like last time, Imhotep fled in a tornado of sand out the window, terrified of the innocent creature.

“Are you alright?” Junmyeon asked as he let the cat fall from his hands. The cat landed gracefully on its feet and walked over to the bed with more dignity than you’d ever seen a human radiate.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Baekhyun answered. After a glare from Junmyeon, he cleared his throat. “Oh. You weren’t- that’s fine. Go… check on her.” Junmyeon did just that.

Kneeling in front of you, he pushed away a few stray hairs that had fallen in your face. Warm, soft brown eyes searched for any sign of harm. The tips of his fingers brushed against your cheek, setting the skin on fire. Or perhaps that was just the blood rushing up to your face in slight embarrassment. This man made you… nervous in a way. He could be dastardly at times, but… also very sweet.

Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself up to your feet. “I’m fine. A little disgusted, but I’m fine.”

A smirk and knowing gleam flashed on Junmyeon’s face as he rose. “I’m sure mine was better.”

He was referring to the lip-smash he desperately pulled before he was to be dragged to the hangman’s noose. Not exactly the best first impression.

You snorted. “No. I wouldn’t say that.” His jaw went slack. Sehun and Baekhyun snickered behind him. “Did you find the professor?” you asked in order to change the subject.

“Yeah. He stayed out in the sun for a little long by the time we found him.”

“What are you-” Oh. Oh. That was why Imhotep was so far along in his regeneration. He’d found another victim to suck dry.

“And he has the Book of the Dead,” Sehun added. “According to Beni, that’s what he’s going to use to raise Anacsunmum.”

“Anck-Su-Namun,” you corrected.

“Yeah, her.”

You rolled your eyes. Why did you even bother?

You started pacing the room, trying to figure out what would be the best next move. You couldn’t keep playing hide and seek with the cat for all eternity. There needed to be a way to end this. Before he read from the book and raised-

The book…

The book!

You whirled back to the others. “I have an idea!”

“Care to share?”

“The Black book has always been rumored among scholars to be able to bring people back from the dead. Something I had always thought was nonsense,” you added to yourself. “But since that part is true, that means other rumors must be as well. Such as the Gold Book being able to send a soul back to the afterlife.”

“A balance.” Baekhyun looked awfully proud of himself. At least something finally stuck.

“Exactly. Now all we have to do is find out where it's hidden.”

Junmyeon frowned. “But I thought it was supposed to be hidden with Anubis?”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “It comes from a translation of an ancient text. A stone that’s at the museum here, actually. It also says where the Black book was supposed to be hidden. I think they got their translations mixed up. So, where the scholars who originally translated it said that the golden Book of Amun-Ra was in the statue of Anubis, it's actually wherever they said the black Book of the Dead was supposed to be.”

“And where is that?”

You swallowed. “I don’t remember. We’ll have to go to the museum so I can read it again.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, Junmyeon checked the barrels of his guns, reloaded the revolvers with bullets from his belt. “Then I guess we’re headed back to the museum. Hopefully we don’t run into Ugly Face before we get to the rock.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” you said with the utmost confidence.

Sehun, who did not share that sentiment, looked up towards the ceiling. “Oh joy. Another book hunt.”

#exo #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo fantasy au #exo fantasy!au #junmyeon x reader #junmyeon x fem!reader #kim junmyeon #kim joonmyeon #suho #exo mummy au #exo egypt au #exo 1920s au #byun baekhyun #oh sehun #exo adventure au #Book of the Dead

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spookysmujer · 4 years

Note

Angst #16 but sad eyes? 👀

Angst16: “Do you even love me anymore?”

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss@princesstiffxoxo@firebenderwolf @spookysnena @mbaku-babygirl @chellybear98@multiyfandomgirl40 @i-just-wanna-live-gc@roury66 @kkim120 @lillict @tinylumpiaa @prettymya3@starrynite7114 @onmyspookysblock @aneitii (please let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

My Happy Ending, J. Guzman (Sad Eyes)

warnings: sad s h e t 😩 , angst, cheating

(Gif belongs to @merakiaes ❤️)

You were so excited to let loose for the weekend with your boyfriend of 2 years, José who is more commonly know by his street name, Sad Eyes. That’s how he introduced himself to you. Which you thought was the cutest thing and you fell for him instantly. The plans were the usual get together at Spooky’s house then a lazy weekend near the Bay area but business came up.

“Promise I’ll be home before the afternoon on Sunday.” He says to you as he packs a duffel bag and you’re sat on his desk chair. The last minute business arrangements happened while you were out getting dinner, they’re dipping by 10. You nod as you watch him.

It bothers you a lot but as the devoted girlfriend you are, you never gave him issues especially since this is how he makes his money and everyone knows not to get in way of a man’s bag. “Yeah, sounds good. No worries.”

He gives you a small smile as he zips up the bag and checks his phone. Spooky is suppose to picking him up which eases your worries a little that he won’t be driving the entire time. José looks over at you, making his way in front of you and leaning down to rest his hands on the chair’s arm rests.

“I love you, cielo.”

José dips his head to place a lingering but chaste kiss to your lips. His scent intoxicating, the feeling of him so close making you crave more. It was only mere seconds before you pushed yourself off the chair and him onto the bed. Moments like so always burning into your memory.

And now that’s the only thing you hold onto.

You never thought he could be that type of man. You never believed that you weren’t woman enough for him. He always told you that you were enough, in fact he always said you were more than enough. José would show you enough love and respect that you had no room for self-doubt, not until late last night.

It was nearly midnight and the Santos were suppose to be heading back to Freeridge by the next morning as José said they would. He didn’t specify where they’d be going as he never did because you had no business knowing their business. You got a call from a random number but you usually never answer them, if it was important than they’d leave a voicemail.

A voicemail never came but an incoming text messages did.

It was a short video. It looked like a club or bar, someplace with strobe lights and the music was so loud, you could barely hear anything but the bass bumping. The camera then zooms in and you instantly recognize Spooky then the rest of the Santos, but you never saw José. Not until a figure moved and he appeared.

The figure was a woman, by his following actions, she was on his lap. His hand goes up to his mouth to wipe when he stands and takes her hand, the two of them walking off. The way your heart paused before taking another beat would of been enough to concern a licensed physician.

José is the sweetest person, the most caring, the hardest worker and a respectable man, so you thought he was.

After re-watching the video over and over again, a part of yourself trying to convince that is wasn’t him even though it was obvious was him, you cried for a bit. How could he? Why would he? The over abundance of love from him quickly depleted and the self-doubt begin to infiltrate your mind. Was it something I did, or wasn’t doing? You think to yourself.

It’s late Sunday morning, you’re sitting at the foot of his bed. Back straight and legs crossed as you mindlessly stare at nothing. You’re awaiting his arrival, you’re ready to confront him and call him out on this bullshit. On his betrayal and harm his done not just to your relationship but your tender heart.

The anger and sadness clashing with each other. The angel and devil arguing back and forth on your shoulders when the jiggling of keys sound in the distance. You straighten your back as the door to his room opens. And up until that moment, you had it all together despite the loud thoughts.

But seeing him walk through the door, your eyes fill and lip trembles. “How was the run?” You ask, your voice shaky. It’s only a brief moment that goes by when José understands the reason behind your saddened expression.

His shoulders fall as he looks away, with the drop of his duffel bag he walks and sits besides you. You move over slightly not wanting to feel his touch in the slightest because you know if you feel him then your body would betray you and you’d dive right into his arms.

“I don’t know how y... you slept that chick, didn’t you?” You say harshly, eyes still trained in front of you. In your peripheral you can see him turn to look at you, José has a look of guilt on his face. You can see his head nod, yes.

You nod your head and stand feeling defeated in what to stay. Despite staying up and reminding yourself to stand your ground and get answers. To not cave and forgive him. As you turn to look back him, he sits at the edge of the bed, with his arms resting on his knees, he peers up at you.

“Do you even love me anymore?”

This causes a pained look across José's face, he stands steps forward to you but you extend your arm out enough to stop him from getting any closer. He swallows thickly, “You know I love you. I always have and I always will. What happened with her had nothing to do with love, you know that. It was a fucked up spur of the moment thing.”

“She saw you at one of your most vulnerable selves. Don’t tell me that it was nothing. She saw a part of you that only I am suppose to see you at but I guess you weren’t really thinking much about me in that moment.” You take a step back and cross your arms across your chest, releasing a huff and closing your eyes.

José can’t form any words, his is agape but nothing breath sounds come out. You open your eyes and gaze up at him. The face of sadness and anger all at once.

“We were better off with that one night stand.”

#on my block #on my block imagine #omb #spookysmujer #sad eyes x reader #jose ‘sad eyes’ guzman #jose guzman #spooky diaz #sad eyes #spooky imagine #spooky x reader #oscar diaz x reader #netflix on my block #omb imagine

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

No strings attached (G.D./E.D.)

Summary: When his brother gets married, Grayson is there for his best friend who happens to be Ethan’s ex and the one who got away. However, when she suggests they start a no strings attached relationship with the sole purpose of having a baby together, Grayson is quick to accept for he had loved her his whole life and maybe...just maybe, she loves him too. And while she struggles to move on, remembering the twin who had broken her heart, Ethan complicates everything when he admits he still has feelings for her.

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT (unprotected sex), cheating, alcohol, swearing..

Word count: 18k+

"You came." It didn't feel like a statement, more like a gasp that passed his lips in a moment of weakness because seeing her had rattled his self-made gilded cage.

"Grayson insisted." Y/N forced a polite smile, but she couldn't fool Ethan. Not when he had taught her how to fake a smile because she was always too honest and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was too pure to be able to deceive people, so he showed her how and he never expected he'd be hit with a fake smile from her heavenly lips he loved to kiss.

"Oh." It's more of a sigh, a heaviness that pushes down on his chest and makes it harder for him to breathe. It’s been about ten years since they were truly alone and he never thought the next time they would find themselves alone would be in a barn right after he vowed to spend his life with another.

"Is there a reason you wanted to talk to me or are you here just to stare?" Her sharp tongue had caught him by surprise, but he didn't mean her harm, surely she knew that? He simply couldn't help himself once he saw her leave in need of solitude, his own need to speak to her too dire to resist the temptation.

"I'm not sure. I just...when I saw you, I felt my heart stop and everything I didn't want to remember came rushing back. I felt like I'm twenty again, standing in front of you with my heart in my hand and you breaking it all over again." The last thing he wanted was to start an argument, especially not one that's ten years old and something he should have left in the past. His conviction of that is confirmed when her impassive face slowly changes from disbelief, to frustration, to rage.

"I broke your heart?!" Control she tried to hold onto had dispersed as his words reopened wounds she tried hard to close for a decade and failed inevitably.

How can one move on from a man she considered to be the one? No one compares, even now as he's pushing her buttons on a day she felt herself shatter. Even when he had chosen another over her, time and time again, he couldn't let her go. He either loved her too much or not enough.

"You're so full of shit, Ethan. Always were." With a shake of her head, she couldn't do it. She couldn't stand there and rehash the painful past he had left her burdened with. She came for closure, not to be reminded of the cruel nature of their lover's death.

"Me? I'm full of shit?! I stood there, making an eternal vow to someone I always thought would be you, but it never happened! Kristina isn't you!" Shouting at her as she tries to pass him by and get as far away as possible, Ethan grabbed her wrist on instinct and pulled her back to face him. When he did that in the past, she'd always smile and kiss him, tell him all she ever wanted was to know he cares enough to fight for her and their argument would be over, but not this time. There was no room for forgiveness in her eyes and her hate for him was brighter than the fire she held for him before.

“Be honest. We could have worked out.” Her eyes narrow at him when his words grip her heart and mind, pulling her back to a time when she was such a fool for him. From the moment he first kissed her, she was slowly losing herself in him.

"And I'm to blame?" She scoffed, ripping her hand out of his hold with a scowl on her face. Rubbing her wrist to soothe the ache that couldn't compare to the real pain he's caused her, she draws in a short breath.

"You left to Australia to figure things out and disappeared for a month! You brought a girl with you halfway across the world, quarantined together! You started dating her before ever telling me we were finished and then I was expected to be your friend? Fuck that and fuck you." The darkness in her voice is easy to imagine festering inside her for years, yet Ethan never realized she saw it like that.

He could see the pain written in her teary eyes, on her slightly wrinkled forehead and in her trembling lips. He could see the anguish he caused her and yet he found himself torn to pieces by all the plans for the future he had for them that never came true. Years have gone by and somehow, by a cruel twist of fate, she had grown into an enchanting, gorgeous woman and he still had a weakness for her.

"I was at the airport, naive enough to think the online chatter were baseless rumors, but I saw you kiss her." Swallowing thickly, Y/N found it hard to breathe. "And I guess it was fate for you...after all, you did marry her today." She shrugs, wiping a tear before it even started its path down her cheek, likely her last stubborn act to protect her pride and flawless makeup.

"I wish I didn't. I...thought you'd call, or come. I left you a ticket to come for my birthday and you never did. I just thought you were done with me. I thought our time apart had turned into a break and she was there...she was good to me.” Running a hand through his hair, Ethan could hardly breathe with the way she looked at him, her presence is just as intoxicating now as it was back then.

“Why didn't you tell me? If you told me you cared, I'd have left her in a heartbeat, even today. Even now." Ethan sighs, leaning closer to the woman he should have fought for, the woman of his dreams and the one he had told his father was his soulmate. Perhaps it's his stubbornness or his pride that blinded him to her feelings that persisted for so long, but no matter what it was, he had no excuse. He should have fought for her.

"How convenient for you." But she wasn't forgiving now as she usually is and she had no more heart left to give this man who had gambled her trust away. Not after the damage he had caused and left her alone to deal with the rubble.

"Go back to your lovely wife, Ethan. She deserves a faithful husband." With a slight push of her palms against his chest, Y/N had done what she should have done long ago - she let Ethan go and finally, for the first time in forever, she could breathe fresh air again.

Her head hurt and the old scars burned, but as she walked away, her soul was made anew - light and open to new beginnings, something she avoided. She had pushed away every man that got too close, afraid to be hurt again. Now, she found herself ready to try again.

"Tired?" Grayson raised an eyebrow as he took one good look at her glistening eyes and realized how draining the day must have been for her. Every time he asked, he'd get the generic "I'm fine" answer and a smile he could see through, but he let her pretend if it meant she'd get through the day alive. He saw her wither, mourn for his brother for years and it pained him too much for it to be healthy, but he felt her pain personally.

"Exhausted." She mustered a real smile for her best friend, opening her arms wide to give him the biggest hug just for being him. She might have lost Grayson for a while when Ethan first broke her heart and it was mostly because she needed time to heal but they quickly found their way back to each other and despite them moving away in different parts of the country, the pair stayed in contact and always made sure to meet every few months if their lives took them away for longer periods of time.

"But I'm glad I came. It felt good to let the old grudges go." She tightens her hold on Grayson, her hands resting on his strong back as his muscles relax under her fingertips and she can only smile in content. She never felt as warm or safe like she did in his arms. He's always been the man that made her smile, even when she was going through hell. Happy or sad, angry or stressed, he was there to lighten the mood and she always appreciated him for it.

"Wanna have a movie night and get a bit drunk?" Grayson suggests, more than aware of her sudden burst of giggles at the thought of him drinking alcohol.

"You don't drink." She reminds him, continuing to chuckle, covering her mouth with her right hand, something Grayson hated. He always thought she had the most beautiful smile and yet, at some point, Y/N felt deeply insecure about it and it drove him mad because it deprived him of the most mesmerizing view.

"I'll drink a few with you. I'll even let you throw popcorn at every cheesy romance scene on TV." With a small smirk, Grayson pulled her closer to him, stealing a second hug for his soul, but to reassure her as well.

"Let's go." She mumbled into his shirt before separating, allowing Grayson to open her door as he always insisted. She appreciated the gesture more than he knew. Grayson is a perfect gentleman and she couldn’t help but question why he’s been single for so long. In fact, he never had a real relationship since they met.

Driving away to Y/N's hotel room, just to make sure no one comes looking for them at the Dolan house, the pair were unaware of wandering eyes of a drunk, desperate groom who felt his rage swell inside his chest with every beat of his bleeding heart.

They drove in silence, music filling the air to prevent any awkwardness although they never had those moments...unless the time Grayson walked in on a naked Y/N in the shower back when they first met at eighteen counts. Aside from a bruise he got from running into a wall instead of the door as he apologized profusely, Grayson found it hard to look at her at all without being flooded with inappropriate thoughts.

"Make yourself comfortable." She tells him the moment she walks into her hotel room, dropping her bag by the door, throwing her heels off within the next two steps. Her heels remained tossed close to the door, like a hazard Grayson was sure would make him sorry he didn't put them in the place neatly for her, but the moment he saw her unzip her dress and it fell to the floor around her sore feet, his brain no longer functioned properly.

With a single move of her fingers, she unhooked her bra as well, throwing it behind her with a loud exhale of relief and while she told Grayson to get comfortable, he could hardly move. Hell, he could hardly breathe as his heart picked up speed and his dick soon felt the accelerated blood flow as it twitched in his pants, aching for release.

She was quick to put on a loose shirt, leaving her with an almost covered ass and those curvy legs of hers available to his curious, hungry gaze that couldn’t ignore the lacy green panties she had on.

"I have a bottle of wine I wanted to gift the newlyweds, but fuck them. They're getting married and starting their life, they don't need quality wine! We do!" Rambling, she grabbed a few glasses that clinked as she carried them, placing them on the table before settling on the couch, only then noticing a very stiff looking Grayson who still stood by the door.

"Are you okay?" She tilts her head to the right with the slightest inkling of worry in her eyes, looking him over for signs he may need help - top to bottom, only to pause in the middle as his problem became evident.

Swallowing thickly, she bites her bottom lip as Grayson rubs the back of his neck nervously, ashamed of his current situation but she only chuckles, rolling her eyes.

"I'll take it as a compliment, now get out of those uncomfortable clothes and drink with me." She orders, opening the bottle with a slight pop before she pours herself a full glass and half a glass to her best friend. Better to pace him than have him drunk within an hour.

"If you're not here in a minute, I'll rip those clothes off you myself." Fixing her eyes on his situation once more, she raises a brow with her very own curiosity playing games with her mind. "With my teeth." She adds coyly, watching Grayson squirm, unable to ignore the red tint in his cheeks.

Quickly, Grayson takes her advice...or better yet, order, getting into nothing but his boxers, stumbling over her hazardously tossed shoes before sitting next to her.

"I don't have anything else to wear." He groans, too aware of his hard on being distinctly impossible to hide now, even as he placed both hands over it.

"I'll crank up the heat so you’re not cold. It's fine. We're friends. If you want to cover up, you can use the blanket, but I promise you I'm not insulted or anything. If I'm anything, it's horny and that won't be happening, so..." Trailing off, she shrugs with disappointment in her small smile and for the first time in forever, Grayson saw an opening. It's something he had held back on, but he didn't have it in him to keep denying himself the woman he had desired for so long he no longer found anyone else worthy of his time for more than one night.

Stature of limitations can't possibly be effective after one party is married, right? Besides, Ethan had simply gotten to her first when in fact, it was Grayson she first met.

"I wouldn't take that watch. It's a knockoff." Grayson couldn't help himself. Not only was the person in question drop dead gorgeous, she also picked up a watch he made a mistake on a year ago and it was a rather hefty check he gambled in the process.

"I'm aware. But thank you." She didn't look back, tired of men and their mansplaining, and definitely tired of men flirting. She wasn't exactly popular with guys she likes, but for some unknown reason, guys she didn't like had a tendency to be very persistent in winning her affections.

"So why buy it then?" However, Grayson was never one to give up and he had no intention of letting this woman go without asking her name first.

"Because my budget allows for a counterfeit, nothing more and I still want it to look fancy." At this point, Grayson knew he was the last person this girl wanted to talk to, but as he opens his mouth to apologize, she turns to him with grace he believed to be magical and her eyes met his.

As cliché it may be, Grayson thought time stopped...even if he was standing in the middle of a shop filled with clocks that could easily prove him wrong but he never felt it before - can a heart literally skip a beat when you meet the person you're meant to be with?

"What if I can give you a fancy, original watch and all you'd have to do is make me a dinner?"

Looking back, he saw how that might have made her feel like he's giving her an immoral offer, but at the time, she was desperate and he was handsome as hell. She saw it as a win and agreed with the widest, most beautiful smile - the first time he ever saw her smile and a sight she didn't cover up back then.

Little did he know Ethan would end up being there as well, crashing their date and soon enough, stealing her right under his nose.

So yes, maybe he didn't give a shit if Ethan is okay with it, this was finally his time to shine. If it's not too late considering she seems to be in love with Ethan even now after he betrayed her over and over again.

"Can you believe Ethan got married before us?" Already tipsy, Y/N chuckles in disbelief, leaning closer to Grayson as she holds her second glass of wine close to her chest. She wasn't much of a drinker either, but she needed some alcohol to get through the night.

"I mean, I always thought it would be you. He used to tell me he isn't fond of the idea of marriage but when we have kids and all that he'd be okay with us getting married." Taking a big chug, she nearly chokes on the wine, coughing as Grayson pats her back lightly. He used to think he’d be the first to get married too, but he gave up on the notion.

"Remember when we made that deal?" It suddenly dawned on her as Grayson reminded her of something she buried in the furthest parts of her mind.

"Before you and Ethan got together, we were sitting on the roof, watching the stars?" Grayson continues and she hums, acknowledging him.

"I said I'd marry you if we were thirty and single." She didn't expect the smile that appeared on her lips nor the honest emotion that took over. They were only eighteen when they made the deal after she and Ethan got into an argument about him buying her expensive gifts she had never asked for before they were even dating officially.

"We're almost thirty now." Stating, she turned completely to Grayson, her eyes taking in his naked torso before continuing.

"We don't have to get married or anything, but don't you want kids?"

Rubbing his forehead, Grayson couldn't help but feel he's too sober for this conversation.

Does he want kids? More than anything!

Did he think he'd be nearly thirty and alone? Never.

"Yes. I know where you're going with this and no. You're drunk, you're not thinking soundly so we can't go down that road." Grayson sighs, moving back to give her some space and create a little distance between them, but she quickly grabs his hand and holds him in place.

"I had two glasses of wine, don't be so dramatic.” Rolling her eyes at him before her face falls, Y/N sighs.

“Grayson, I can feel my biological clock ticking and my womb is crying for a baby to carry. I want this and I honestly can't imagine anyone I'd rather do it with than you. You are daddy material. I've always loved that about you." Taking his hand in hers, she inched closer with a slight smile pushing onto her face.

"We are best friends. We can't just have a baby and act nothing happened. IVF would be brutal anyway." Grayson is trying his best to be the voice of reason. He had a sip of wine, but not nearly enough to ignore that she might be doing this because she can't watch Ethan move on with his life in a very definite way and be happy for him.

Is he supposed to be her distraction from the pain?

"Who said anything about IVF? We could have sex, right here, right now. Repeat it a few times to be sure over the next week and that's all. After that, no sex or romantic feelings. We'd be co-parenting, and if we meet someone else along the way, we'll figure it out as we go."

And maybe he's had more than a sip, perhaps even a whole bottle if he's seriously considering her offer, but then again, he's drunk off her. He's in love with her and he has been for ten years and she's giving him a chance to have her, even if it's for a week, and a chance to be in her life for as long as they both live. Perhaps it's nothing compared to what he wished for, but it's undeniably everything in this particular moment where her bare thigh is rubbing against his and her palm is set on his arm, her eyes boring into his soul as her plump lips quiver with desire.

She's looking at him like she wants to do more than just make a baby - she's looking at him like a man she's passionately interested in and it's a look he's waited a lifetime to see in her eyes.

So, despite all reason and better judgement, Grayson smiles before pulling her onto his lap. "I'm in."

Resting her forehead on his, she draws in a shaky breath. "No strings attached?"

Reluctantly, he confirms. "No strings attached."

Little did they know they would be tangled in all the strings the moment their lips touch.

That first taste of his lips made her heart shiver, her hands shaky as his fill up with her ass, feeling him squeeze as his tongue swipes her bottom lip. Wasting no time, she grants him access, pushing down on his lap until his hard-on pressed against her inner thigh and she can't help the moan that passes her lips nor the brazen curiosity her hands indulge in. Her palms travel down his chest, her left one remaining on his neck as the right one continues on its journey to his hardened member, drawing in a deep breath as his hands move up to the small of her back, warm against her skin.

"So warm." She managed to mumble against his lips, her hand finally reaching his aching bulge, hastily palming him until he breaks their kiss, groaning with unrestrained desire and his control wavers.

"A-are you sure? We still have time to stop and just watch a movie." No matter how it pained him, Grayson couldn't go through with it without making sure she's not going to regret it. He didn't want to be the guy that used her in a vulnerable state and he never wanted to taint the friendship they had before he tasted her lips for the first time in his life. And just one taste of her was enough to mark him hers. He couldn't get enough.

Pausing, she cups his cheeks and bores her eyes in his, the clock ticking in the background only sound beside their strained breaths filling the silence. She couldn't believe he doubted her, although she understood why he's apprehensive.

For a moment, Y/N worried he may find her unattractive, or someone already tarnished due to her relationship with his brother and yet, when she looked into his chocolate brown eyes, Y/N only saw concern for her. He cares enough to handle blue balls if she's in any way doubtful of their unexpected actions. But then again, somehow, Y/N found it as anything but unexpected.

"Never been as sure as I am now."

Reconnecting their lips again, she found herself immersed in him, fully lost and consumed by no one but Grayson Dolan. His hands on her body, his tongue locked in an intense, fiery tango with hers, his penis already visible through his briefs and her own unquenchable desire and longing taking over as she pulls her shirt up, breaking the kiss long enough to pull it off her head and reveal her breasts - nipples hard and ready just as she is.

If there's anything she's sure of is that all her sense of self disappeared when his mouth captured her left breast, his hands slipping past her waistband, flicking her clit as soft moans betray her pleasurable need for him.

"I can't", she shuddered, breathing hard as his open mouthed kisses left a burning trail on her collarbone and she knew she was done for.

"Please, Gray." She struggled to keep herself sane as his fingers picked up speed and a scream erupted from deep inside her chest and he smirked against her neck. Sensitive, needy and ready to comply, she leaned her head on his shoulder while he worked his magic.

"Tell me. Tell me what you want." He teased her, slowly building her up to her first orgasm and he wanted her shaking and wet when he starts having his way with her. She would surely need it.

"You. I. I want you. Inside me. Take me, please." She pleaded, her eyes closed as he picks her up and moves toward the bed, her legs wrapped around him as she rubs herself against him for friction though he didn't stop his hands from making her moan. Try as she might, she couldn't hold them back.

Placing her on the mattress, he smirked before lowering his head to her thighs, gripping her lacy green panties with his teeth before ripping them in a single move. He craved to see them, but the satisfaction he got from tearing them off her was unparalleled.

"What?!" She didn't get to scold him for his lips have found their way onto her sensitive nerve bundle, sucking as his fingers delved inside where she needed him the most. Her hands weaved in his hair, pulling at the stray locks with quivering in her lower abdomen as her breathing became short, coming in gasps of pure ecstasy and her thighs trembled as Grayson's hands gripped her hips and kept her in place when she tried to move away. She pulled at his hair a little too hard, but Grayson didn't mind - loss of control means she's lost in the feelings he had provided her with, only fueling his unbelievable thirst for her solicited moans he only ever heard in his dreams or something close to them whenever she ate something she really liked.

He's relentless, unforgiving and a generous lover and while her mind is forming incoherent thoughts about all the unforgettable ways his tongue moves, all she can say is his name - fervently, unapologetically screaming his name as her orgasm makes her lose all control and instead of simply enjoying the entrancing beauty of the moment his name falls from her lips and her body shakes in his arms, Grayson frees his dick at last, nearly crying out once he pushes himself inside, catching the last wave of her clenching walls, enjoying how firmly her hands grip his arms as he slowly fills her up.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers in her ear as he pauses for her to adjust, slowly inching his way inside her until she's all full and even she can tell it will be a hot minute before he bottoms out.

“So, so perfect.”

Her mind is a little clearer, too aware of his wet lips at her jaw, littering her with kisses as his body weight presses her further into the mattress. She's hooking her leg around his waist, aiding him in his effort to bring her to a new orgasm once again, the new one hopefully fruitful for them both. Her arms fold around him, bringing him closer until his chest falls on hers, no room left between them - their hearts wildly beating fast, allowing them to feel every beat as Grayson lift his head up and their eyes meet again.

Sliding further inside, her mouth falls open as a sigh leaves her involuntarily, making him smirk vainly and the smugness in his eyes only made him more appealing.

It was impossible to ignore how intimate the moment is, how neither of them want to part. Had it been a simple 'let's have a baby' deal, it would have been all business, in and out in minutes, but this was all pleasure and they both knew it. And this was a first for both of them in a sense – their first time without condoms, feeling their partner without any barriers.

"Are you in?" She couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, the liquid courage gone as he holds her in his embrace - bare in every sense of the word, but she trusts him with all her heart.

"Not yet." Grayson chuckles when her eyes widen at his statement, aware she's thinking about how big he is and how she's probably worried he wouldn't fit but as he adjusts and slides in further, finally bottomed out, he smirks when she gasp at the slight thrust. Pecking the left corner of her lips, their noses brush together as he whispers.

"Now I am." That's when he's moving, leisurely with confidence, building her back up only to stop and make her whimper and he couldn't help but feel proud he's managed to get her to ask for more...to ask for him.

"Gosh, you're such a tease!" She exclaimed, half out of her mind as her hands grip his ass to control his speed and depth and still, he's unmovable, cocky and yet too afraid of losing the reigns of himself. He can't act anymore, no pretense left.

This night has been everything he wanted for so long that he can't even hide it. It's in his eyes, on his lips, in the gentle touch of his fingertips on her skin and the strength of his arms around her, but the way he's taking his time and making every moment count for her? It's proof enough that this is more than a casual fuck.

"What's so wrong in never wanting this to end?"

But she can't hide it either, his words had undone the last of her restraints. He can see it in the way she pushes his matted hair back from his face to better look into his warm, loving eyes, in her genuine smiles, the way she pulls him close and won't let up or the way she says his name as if it's her favorite word.

Y/N realized she would never quite be able to forget the way he makes her feel after years of pushing down feelings she told herself are forbidden - that she had loved him first, before Ethan, before anyone else - terrified to remember, forbidden to forget.

She did it for Ethan, but now? She had no reason to hide.

And as the moment passed, urgency took over and Grayson no longer held back. Long, fast strokes replaced the slow, gentle ones and neither of them could think any longer. Forgoing everything, their moans and grunts and whimpers filled the room as Grayson pounded into her and while she loved when he was gentle with her, she couldn't get enough his rougher, harder way to get her to the finish line.

He gripped at every part of her he could get while she held onto him for dear life, her nails making marks as she finished first but he wasn't too far behind. Once he felt her walls clenching once again and the warmth enveloping him, he was faster, jerkier and insatiable. Biting into his shoulder as her orgasm shook loose all the feelings she kept hidden, Grayson finally came inside, filling her up as he laid on top of her, keeping his weight off with his elbows.

"Don't move." She whispered in his ear, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of her neck as he came down from his high, sweaty and pleasantly exhausted, but already craving the next time.

And even when he went limp inside, pulling out, Grayson’s head remained on her chest as she played with his hair, falling asleep to the sound of her heartbeat.

When morning came and her eyes opened, the night before was just a haze. An arm wrapped around her weights her down - it offers warmth, intimacy, a sense of belonging. It's there to remind her what she thought was just a dream - a deal she had made with her best friend that didn't have too much to do with the excuse she used but a genuine question she needed an answer to - what if she was always chasing the wrong brother?

After all, it was Grayson she met first, found handsome and sexy as hell enough to agree to cook him dinner in his own home. She wanted him to make a move so bad, to grab her and kiss her but he never did and Ethan wasn't shy about the attention he gave her. She was reluctant at first, holding off on agreeing to even a date with Ethan until she lost hope. So if Grayson didn't like her even though she had given him more than one chance to say or do something, Ethan did. She waited too long for him to stop her from going out with his twin.

He never did.

"Since you're vegan, I made you vegetable soup and pasta and a carrot cake, all vegan of course." She's perky, excited and a tad shy about the food she placed before him. The worry behind her eyes over his silence had alerted him to smile, widely and with heart.

"I love it." He exclaimed, making her give him a pointed look.

"You didn't even try it yet." She chuckled when he shrugged and started tasting everything.

"I love it and I tasted it all too!!" It was hard not to enjoy Grayson's company, it was all easy as breathing with him. Such a rare feeling in this world, yet one she promised herself would remain in her life in any shape or form.

And by the end of their dinner, it was already too late. Or so Grayson thought because the moment Ethan walked in and sat next to the girl he believed was on a date with, the atmosphere change had made Grayson dejected and he felt like the third wheel.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Ethan asked her and Grayson wanted to snort before shooing him away, especially when he saw Y/N look at his brother in disbelief.

"No." She replied, raising an eyebrow when Ethan suddenly stood up and left. Glancing at Grayson, Y/N silently wondered what the hell happened only to be interrupted when Ethan took the chair on her other side and flashed her a charming smile.

"What about second look?"

And when Y/N laughed out loud, first real laughter Grayson heard, it was for his brother, not him. Ethan was always the more charming one, the one who attracts girls without trying and soon after, he'd watch his brother take the only girl he ever wanted and he witnessed how he broke her heart as well.

But the night they just spent together reminded her of the sadness she felt when it became clear Grayson wouldn't be the brother she ends up with back then. She loved Ethan, still does, but it will never change that longing she always had for the younger Dolan.

Grayson felt her stir under his arm, his eyes fluttering open with a smile as he found his face is buried in her hair and the heavenly lilac scent invading his senses is hers. Memories of the night before had made his morning wood that much worse and while he wanted more than anything to just slide back in between her folds, he couldn't make things awkward in case she's changed her mind.

He still remembers when he found out she was going out with Ethan, not him, making him wonder if he was always just meant to be a bridge that binds them together. He wondered if he'd be able to watch them fall in love and maybe even get married, but it didn't feel like he has a choice.

"Can I talk to you about something?" He could tell she's serious and tormented about the subject at hand, confusing him from the start. It's only been three months since they met and she's become his favorite person within the first hour of knowing her but he feared she'd be bored of him soon and there wasn't much he couldn't handle, but that would definitely leave a mark.

"Sure." Instead of smiling, Grayson grimaced involuntarily, making her frown as she sat beside him, a little stiffer than she usually acts around him.

"It's about your brother." She started and Grayson groaned immediately.

"What did he do?!"

"He asked me out...again." She chuckled at the last bit, shyly looking at her fidgety hands in her lap, unable to meet his eyes.

"I'm thinking about accepting." She sighed, forcing herself to face Grayson, anticipating anger or a jealous fit, anything to prove he cares, yet all he did was swallow thickly, loud enough for her to hear as he scratched his forehead absentmindedly.

"Didn't realize you guys were getting so close." Grayson tried to remain calm, not to lash out because this girl is beautiful, funny, clever and while she's incredibly strong she seems painfully vulnerable and he didn't want to scare her.

"We're not, but he's persistent and I'm out of excuses." She shrugged, deciding not to tell him about the way Ethan makes her feel. It wasn't exactly the same as Grayson, but he was witty and charming and handsome and willing to actually love her and she couldn't wait around for Grayson to remove her from the friendzone forever.

"I'll tell him no if you can give me one reason not to do this." Hopeful, she placed her hand on his knee and waited for the youngest Dolan to speak up and claim her for himself. She waited for him to tell her he loves her and he never wants to be without her...hell, she'd settle for him saying he likes her, but he remained silent and Ethan arrived just in time.

"Hey." Ethan smiled widely, his arm outstretched as his hand opened for her to take and with a final glance, she turned to Grayson in anticipation of any action that would give her an excuse to stay. But nothing happened.

"Hey." She smiled back at Ethan, taking her hand from Grayson's knee and placing it in Ethan's hand reluctantly.

From that moment on, she promised herself to stop her silly fantasies about Grayson, to stop reading too much into his lingering looks or continuous touches and flirting and all the times he had made her heart skip a beat. She promised herself she'd give Ethan a chance and as she departed with him, she did not look back. And she wouldn't for the next ten years, but for Grayson that moment was different.

When her hand left his knee, the cold that settled in had left him craving that warmth for the next ten years - yearning for her touch as much as he does for a fresh breath of air, forever wondering what Ethan had that he didn't. And it wouldn't be the last time he sees them walking away together, the only difference is the distance between them as they do. With time, they grew closer, no longer simply walking side by side but they'd have their arms around one another, they'd kiss, or playfully push around or chase each other and laugh until they both cried. It happened slowly, but it took her away from him, piece by piece until she was truly happy with Ethan, her feelings real and her dreams changed to fit the man she's with.

"Morning." He whispered in her hair, careful just in case she's still asleep so he wouldn't wake her. However, the moment he speaks is pivotal for her, making her turn in his embrace a little too excitedly with a perky smile upon her lips.

"Morning." She smiles at him with glee, throwing her leg over him shamelessly as she brings herself closer to him.

"Woah. Thought you're not a morning person?" Grayson chuckles, his raspy morning voice making her horny all over again and she has trouble stopping herself from initiating anything again.

"Maybe I just had no one to be a morning person with." She challenges, but it only reminded her of Ethan, the grumpier twin that never liked mornings and could only ever be swayed into getting up earlier if she woke him up with kisses or possibly even morning sex.

"Interesting." Grayson raised his eyebrow, ignoring the implication of her words before his hand settled on her hip, finding his fingertips formed bruises.

"Fuck, did I do that?!” Pulling the covers off, Grayson scanned her body carefully with disgust for himself, ignoring her squeal. Despite being bold and freaky in the sheets the night before, Y/N couldn’t help the insecurities flooding her when Grayson got a good view of every single one of her imperfections under the unforgiving morning sun. She wondered if the disgust on his face is because of her belly rolls because she always struggled with her weight which also showed in the stretchmarks and cellulite some men found unappealing and she felt tears prick her eyes as his gaze lingered on certain parts of her body.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you. I swear I’ll be more careful next time.” Those words flew from his mouth before he had a chance to think of the implications. Next time means he wanted to be with her again, to take her as shamelessly as he did the night before but it also meant he was feeling guilty, maybe even remorseful.

“I’m not.” Interrupting his self-pity party, Y/N propped herself up on her elbows and smiled softly, her eyes taking his beauty in because as unforgiving as the morning sun may be on her, it’s definitely illuminating on him. The sun favors him for sure.

“I’m not sorry because you made me feel attractive, needed, loved. I’m not sorry because when you looked at me just now, it wasn’t because you wanted to see the weird moles I may have or the stretchmarks, but for possible signs you hurt me. When you only made me so, so happy.” Sitting up on her knees, her palms find their way onto his abs, trailing his skin with her thumbs as the rest of her fingers grab hold of him and pull him toward her.

“I’m your best friend and I might be carrying your child now. Trust me when I say that there isn’t anything I regret about last night. If anything, the bruises mean we had more fun than we anticipated.” She shrugs coyly, kinking an eyebrow until he finally bestows one smile upon her.

“It was more than just fun.” Grayson notes and she nods. She loved how his words disturbed the rhythm of her pulse. There was never a simple moment between the two of them, always carrying emotions too strong for them to ignore.

“I can tell. Your dick is sort of in my face.” She chuckles, glancing at his red tip already up for the job she absolutely hoped he’d take up.

Crimson cheeks that flushed with blood were enough for Y/N to realize Grayson feels too ashamed to ask so before he manages to say a single word, her tongue laps his tip and a strangled moan escapes him.

Smirking, a little braver, her hand wraps around his shaft, moving up and down with circular motion, her tongue teasing him as her best friend becomes undone, just as he did for her last night. She couldn’t help herself, desperate to hear his moans once again but to have him inside as well.

Pursing her lips slightly, she looks up with her doe eyes, moaning as she opens her mouth and lazily takes just the tip. She hollows out her cheeks around him, and he takes in a shaky breath. His breathing is fast, and she watches him as his eyes close and his head falls back, panting softly as she bobs her head up and down, trying to take as much as she can while moaning herself. Hearing him moan felt almost as good as sex.

“I can’t. You’re. Driving. Me. Crazy.” Grayson says between his shallow breaths, half thinking he should be looking for his inhaler instead of losing his patience. He teased her the night before and now she’s punishing him and he’s not ashamed to admit he doesn’t have it in him to persevere. So, when it feels like his heart will burst, Grayson pulls back before moving in on her without reserve.

“You think that was funny, don’t you?” His snappy attitude only makes it more amusing as she licks her lips and smiles, evident she had every intention of torturing him for a long period of time. Much longer than he could withstand.

“Next time you want to try that, make sure I’m tied down and unable to escape.” Grayson growls before pushing her back down on the mattress and she giggles because she got exactly what she wanted – for him to relinquish control and fuck her into the mattress like there’s no tomorrow.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She winks as his lips hover above hers. He rubs his cock over her entrance, playing with the wetness, and she gasps and shudders when he rubs it over her clit.

“I’d be careful about starting games you can’t finish.” With that warning, he smiles arrogantly, and slowly pushes his head in. Kissing her hungrily, hard enough that she imagined he’d bruise her lips too.

She wasted no time in spreading her legs further to help him adjust. He slowly makes his way in, breaking the kiss only to let himself groan into the crook of her neck, pecking every inch of skin he could get close to. She was tighter than he anticipated, a little harder to penetrate than the night before but she was still willing as her patience resolved and she pushed herself up, switching their places.

A little wild and unexpected, but she made him fall hard. The view before him only made his breathing shallow, panting as she took it upon herself to impale herself fully until she cried out softly.

“Are you okay?” Grayson struggled to speak as his breath turned ragged, making her worry more.

“Should have trusted the speed you were going with.” She managed a smile for him, starting to move on top of him as his hands gripped her hips again and she whimpered when his fingers found their match on the bruises he left behind. However, as she moved, Grayson’s guidance became scarce and his grip weakened when his breathing got louder, enough to make her open her eyes and look at the stubborn man under her who valued pleasure over his ability to breathe.

“You need your inhaler.” She concluded, reaching over him to the nightstand he left it on last night since he needed it after they were done too.

Handing him the inhaler, Grayson took a few puffs before tossing it aside, flipping her back under him so quickly she squealed in surprise.

“Thanks, love. Now, let me have my way with you.” He thrusts fast inside her, pulling out halfway and pushing back into her, holding her hips with a strong grip. His strokes are getting more erratic, faster and harder than before. He pumps fast and hard, with reckless abandon for a few moments before his fingers make play with her clit, making her gasp and buck her hips up to meet every thrust he makes until it drove them to the edge of madness.

He grabs a fist full of the bedspread as he shudders, feeling her cum and scream his name pushing him over the edge as well, ending their insatiable desire for a little while – enough for them to eat something.

He plants kisses to the inside of her knees, and she giggles, pulling them away. He smiles at her, pulling himself up before collapsing beside her, both breathing heavily, happily exhausted as they stare at one another – sweaty, messy hair and lazy smiles on both their faces.

But then the phone rings, interrupting the moment of comfortable silence.

“Ignore it.” She urges him, but the incessant ringing is making them both nervous.

“What if something happened?” Grayson bites his bottom lip before reaching out to see who is calling, finding his mother’s name on the screen. After all, he didn’t come home at all and she had the right to worry about her son.

“Answer it.” Y/N encourages him, aware that she can’t hold him in that room indefinitely, though she wishes she could.

“Hello?” Y/N watched him nod, changing his facial expressions every few seconds.

“I stayed with Y/N. I really don’t want to come today.” Grayson rolls his eyes and Y/N slaps his arm for being rude, even if his mother couldn’t see him.

“No. I’m not. I don’t care.” Groaning, he tossed the phone aside, sitting up with his hands in his hair and a frown etched on his face.

“Everything alright?” Her voice is gentle, soothing, a comforting note in the mess his head’s in.

“Ethan and Kristina are having a lunch for close family and they want me to come and I really don’t want to go.” Grayson explains, sighing as Y/N drapes her arms around him, her hands clasping before him as she leans almost entirely on his back, her head resting on his shoulder as her face is turned to him, pecking his cheek.

“Go. He’s your brother. You should be there for him.” Y/N’s words make sense, but Grayson didn’t want to leave her alone. He didn’t want to spend a single minute away from her. Her touch kept him sane and the way her body fit his perfectly would haunt him whenever she wasn’t with him. He just knew it.

“Not without you. I…If we leave this room, it just feels…definite. Like, all the memories we made will have been for nothing and when that happens, you won’t be mine.” Swallowing thickly, Y/N understood perfectly what he means by that. In this moment, they’re in a protected bubble of their own and although they didn’t say it, it has nothing to do with the deal they made but actual feelings that had been long buried finally came to life. Leaving their bubble might make it all go away. She feared it too.

“If I agree to go…we need to talk first. Like…what are we going to tell them when I get pregnant?” She raised an eyebrow as his hands gripped hers, pulling them apart before swiftly pulling her under his arm and onto his lap.

“I want to say we dated. At least for a little while.” No. He wanted to ask her to date him now. He wanted to ask her to be his, but she said no strings attached and he had no right to go back on that unless she asked him to.

“Okay. But Ethan might be an issue. You two basically lived together.” She reminds him, trying to keep a faint smile present though she wished he’d just stop this nonsense and tell her he wants her.

Does he not feel the magnetic force they’ve been brought together with?

Does he not feel how they’re made for each other?

She wished she could go back and ignore the no strings attached clause in their little agreement because she wanted all of him, all the strings attached.

“We spent weeks apart. I’ll just say it felt awkward and we wanted to be low-key but the pregnancy caught us by surprise.” He’s making these lies up too quickly, too well for her to ignore and she can’t help but wonder how he became a good liar. The Grayson she remembers had always been easy to read but he felt different now.

“Okay.” She hums in response, struggling to ignore his penis brushing against her bare ass.

“I need a shower.” She states, noticing him wiggle his eyebrows. “What?”

“Wanna save some water and shower together?” And while he’s cheesy as hell, she couldn’t help but love it – love him.

“Mom, dad, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.” Y/N had been dreading this moment for months, ever since she realized Ethan is serious about her and his jokes about her meeting his parents were anything but jokes.

“You’re beautiful.” Cameron noted, furrowing her eyebrows before looking at Ethan. “How did you trick her into dating you?”

And while the day went off without a hitch, his parents loving her, Y/N couldn’t help but worry she didn’t really fit in. She worried they pretended to like her, for Ethan’s sake.

“She’s a great girl. Why are you so worried?” Y/N hid as she heard Ethan’s parents talk in hushed voices, realizing it’s about her and while it seemed she had the support of his father, his mother wasn’t as happy.

“She’s great. But I feel she’s more suited for Grayson that Ethan. That’s all.”

It’s been a very long time since the moment Y/N hid in the shed while she heard Ethan’s mother say she’s not confident she should be with her son. It was never that she didn’t like her, she just didn’t find her to be right for Ethan. She wondered how she accepted Kristina, if she ever thought she wasn’t the one for Ethan too. However, she remained grateful to his father for being her defender. He had faith in them and she still remembers Ethan telling him he would marry her one day.

But that never came to be and while it hurt yesterday, she felt at peace with that now. Grayson reminded her of things she forgot along the way and she couldn’t hold it against Lisa any longer because she was right – she wasn’t enough, she wasn’t the one for her son. But Grayson? She really hoped she would be.

“Ready?” Grayson’s voice broke her out of her trance, making her heart jump. Drawing in a deep breath, she nods before hooking her arm with Grayson’s.

However, when they got inside, they found there was no party at all.

“Ma?” Grayson called out for his mother but she wasn’t the one to appear.

“Our flight is earlier than expected.” Ethan leaned on the wall, eyeing the pair suspiciously. “The party is canceled. Mom went with Kris and Cam to buy some last minute necessities.”

Making brief eye contact, Y/N looked away swiftly to hide her true emotions. Ethan always said cheeky was good and allowed her the freedom to be herself. They laughed so much, even in the most inappropriate times, but of everything they ever did, it was looking in his eyes she loved the most. That's all they ever needed to connect, just them, just eyes, no words. So yes, she avoided his gaze like the plague.

“In that case, we should go.” Grayson clears the tension, hating how even after last night and that morning where he claimed her as his, Ethan could just look at her and she’d be lost to him.

“So soon?” Ethan quipped, pursing his lips because he felt something’s askew.

“Y/N’s going back to L.A. soon and I want to spend all the time we have together.” Grayson remarked, taking her hand in his before pulling her back with him, slowly but firmly.

“Have fun on your honeymoon. With your wife.” Grayson adds for good measure, reminding both Ethan and Y/N why it’s best they leave.

Taking her out of there, his hand on her lower back, Grayson made sure he was fast and he left no room for Ethan to make a play on her emotions.

“I’m fine.” She tells him before he has a chance to ask, basking in her glorious smile right after for she holds his hand tenderly and pulls him closer, her other hand grasping his shirt to pull him down and meet her brazen lips.

Without complaints, Grayson accepts her supple lips and closes his eyes to fully enjoy the moment, blind to more than one spectator for his mother, sister and sister in law arrived shortly as their kiss consumed them, but the pair paid no mind to the world around them as they parted and got into the car with one goal in mind – hotel room, no clothes and a lot of screaming and laughing for days to come.

Barely leaving the room, Grayson and Y/N enjoyed each other’s company. She had found herself happily nuzzled in his side regardless if it’s to steal a kiss, make him smile or simply to rest her head as they watch a movie. There appeared to be no limit to their attraction nor their need to taste each other. Grayson loved discovering every inch of her skin, as if he is mapping her body to commit to memory.

“Do you really have to go?” He whines, his face buried in between her breasts, leaving open mouth kisses along her sternum.

“I have a job to get back to. But you’re gonna be there in a month too and we’ll know if this worked or not by then.” She smiles as he huffs, playing with his hair – wrapping every lock around her fingertips.

“Don’t take the test before I come.” He pleads, but she agrees far too quickly.

“Unless I get symptoms, I won’t.” She sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I never had to leave this room.”

“Me too.” He whispers softly, looking up at her with adoration in his eyes. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

And while he said it would be a month when they parted with one last kiss at the airport, Grayson already started to scheme how to shorten that time and go see the woman he was convinced is pregnant with his baby. He felt it in his bones and he couldn’t wait for a full month.

So, he made different preparations instead – he made room for himself in the Los Angeles branch of the company he and Ethan ran from New Jersey, making sure he’d be there with her every step of the beautiful journey. And he had every intention of making her his, permanently, in that time as well.

Little did he know when he arrives there in twenty days, he’d find his Y/N on a date with someone else.

When he saw her hug another, his heart cracked and he felt his chest constrict. Grayson holds his breath behind pursed lips, his hands forming fists to stop the shaking. She wraps herself around him, too close for his liking and he can’t help but wonder if their time together really meant nothing to her at all. He had hoped she’d abolish the no strings rule, but he felt silly now. She’s gazing through her overly made-up eyes with her cloying vapidity, simpering softly until he tells a joke. Then she giggles like she's a child, slapping his chest playfully while Grayson is stuck in the background, watching her with someone new…or perhaps it’s someone old she never told him about.

He can't say anything about it, to do so will put their friendship at risk, and that is something he won't do. Friends like her don't come along too often. But then again, can he ever go back to just friends after he’s had her in every imaginable way? Friends don’t know how you taste and he knew every inch of her skin. He knew her.

Clearing his throat, Grayson decided not to be a bystander again. He would never sit back and watch her leave with another man again and if he has to, he will fight for her love. This won’t be history repeating itself – he vowed it before walking toward them in strides, to make sure the hug is the only intimacy they have time for.

“GRAYSON?!” Before he can even make his presence known, Y/N catches him from the corner of her eye as he approaches, pushing away the other guy in her excitement only to run straight for her best friend, jumping into his embrace unexpectedly enough to make Grayson stumble upon impact.

“OOf! Slow down, love.” Grayson’s jealousy subsides long enough for him to wrap his arms around her, pressing her closer until he can hardly breathe but air is the last thing he needs now. All he needs is her and that flowery scent of her beautiful hair as he’s once again buried in it.

“SHUT UP!” She yelled, making him wince because she quite literally screamed in his ear but he smiles nonetheless. “I missed you so much.” Whispering softly, she hugs him tighter and he’s certain his lungs are no longer able to expand but it feel so, so good to have her return the emotions he’s been carrying around. It was insufferable to be apart from her, but the feeling of having her back in his arms couldn’t be described by any earthly words.

“Should I go?” The stranger Grayson forgot about had spoken up, making Y/N’s eyes widen before her hold on Grayson relents and she’s stepping back a moment later with a shy smile upon her lips.

“Yeah. I think that’s best.” Pressing her lips together, she waves the man goodbye as he shakes his head in disbelief, turns on his heel and walks away and maybe it’s because Grayson expected an altercation or because he needed it for his own ego boost, but he was disappointed... And a little too happy he was her obvious choice.

“Come on.” Tugging him by his arm, Y/N drags Grayson inside and while she wanted to be the innocent best friend he’s used to, she couldn’t wait long before she had him alone.

“So, uh…Who is that guy?” Grayson didn’t waste time. While Y/N planned to toss her clothes aside and make his jaw drop, Grayson shrugged his jacket off and shoes next, starting up what she hoped he’d ignore. But then again, discretion was never his strong suit.

“Are you? Jealous?" She teased with a cocky smirk upon her rosy lips, drawing him near with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head. Would it be smart to come clean so soon?

"Maybe. It's just...weird." Gulping, Grayson pulls away, something he never imagined he'd do. Whenever she’s a part of the equation, he only ever saw himself being impossibly close to her but now? He couldn’t let her just blatantly ignore his concern.

"Why?" Her eyebrows furrowed as she frowned, praying she's hiding the hurt of rejection well enough not to be caught by him, the man who knows her best.

"Because you might be pregnant and I really want this pregnancy to be our time. To be just us." Pressing his lips together, Grayson drops his gaze, his mind made up though his heart isn't. "But if you want to date I won't stop you."

But she didn't want to. Not at all. She wanted Grayson and perhaps that's why she decided to tell a white lie.

“I never even kissed the guy. He’s got a thing for me, but he just walked me back after work. It’s nothing important.” But that wasn’t the lie she planned to tell.

"I lied. I took the test and it was negative." She promised him she'd wait for him and she did, but she can't risk losing him yet. She needs more nights lost in him, drunk on his cologne and sloppy kisses. She isn't ready to let him go.

"Oh. I guess we need to keep trying. If that's what you want?" Fighting a smile despite his initial disappointment, Grayson took one step closer as her encouraging smile warmed his insides.

"Guess we should. How about we resume here? Now?" The best relationships are often when people are not the same, yet complimentary, each bringing qualities that help the other. This felt like that – they had the important things in common but they have always been different enough to make their lives exciting. So when she cocks her head to the side, giving him access to her neck, Grayson is quick to respond and latch his lips just over her sweet spot, relishing in the moan it elicited.

But it didn’t stop that night. It felt like New Jersey all over again – every moment they could spend together was filled with romance, dates, stolen kisses in public and openly sensual kisses in private. He drove her mad with every touch while she put his worries at ease with every kiss. While she sought an adventure filled life he provides, he wanted a woman that made him giddy with every new sunrise by her side.

From their beach dates to the late night dancing barefoot in the kitchen, stargazing and dinners and movies, to driving around just screaming to their favorite songs like they’re teenagers again. They wasted so much time…So many years they could have been happy were gone, but neither would ever let another moment slip away. So they used the passing months wisely, catching up on everything.

“Can you come home?” She left the message on his voicemail, unintentionally calling her apartment home and to some degree it’s become one. Grayson never found a place to stay since he was renting the house he and Ethan used to live in and she never wanted him to. But today, she needed him. Though he told her he’s going to be in meetings all day, Y/N was hoping he’d see her message and drop everything.

Realizing how selfish her thoughts are, she shakes her head before sighing. Anxiously looking at the pregnancy test in her hand, she toys with the idea of taking it alone and surprising him with it later. She figured maybe it wasn’t really positive and she just ate something bad. Besides, she had some blood on her panties a few weeks ago and while it wasn’t a normal period, blood is blood. Right?

Luckily, she didn’t have to deliberate for long. They always joked about how Grayson could feel whenever she needed him but it always proved to be true. Even now, without even thinking twice about it, he had showed up for her with a box of chocolates she adored.

“What’s the emergency?” Grayson worried because every time he felt her distress in the past, he found her either heartbroken over a guy or there was a death in the family – even if that one time it was a pet fish she grieved for.

“Oh.” Swallowing thickly, Grayson found the reason before she uttered a single word. “Did you take it?” His curiosity was strong, but his furrowed eyebrows showed just how it put him on edge too. If she’s pregnant, does it mean they no longer need to sleep together?

Did it mean she was once again off limits? Deep down, they both hoped it would be a negative, just so they could keep up their no strings attached relationship without putting their friendship at risk but what’s the point?

Are they not past that stage? Neither of them has guts to ask. Not even Grayson, even though he’s always been great in communicating his feelings with her, if his actual feelings for her didn’t count.

“No. I wanted to do this with you. Plus, I threw up this morning…three times…because of chicken.” His eyes show the kind of gentle concern she’s unaccustomed to. He lays his hand lightly on her shoulder, and instead of flinching like she usually does with others, she’s soothed by it. He leaves his hand there and speaks with such a soft voice that his words calm her more by the way they are said than the actual words.

“I’m here. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there. Whatever you need.” It feels as if she’s wrapped in a blanket of his caring. How could she be scared of losing him when he’s never once left her side? How can she not consider her actions now when she could see how profoundly they affect him too? He’s always going to be the one. Perhaps it was Ethan for her teenage self, the woman she forced herself to be back then but it’s Grayson now…maybe it always was.

“I love you.” She whispers, terrified when his face falls and his eyes widen. She can feel the fear in her chest waiting to take over. Perhaps it only wants to protect her from more pain but there really isn't any danger. It sits there like an angry ball propelling her towards an anxiety she just doesn't need.

It’s Grayson, he won’t hurt her.

Or so she tells herself.

“I’m in love with you.” She clarifies, her lips quivering as she speaks and he can’t believe the words he waited his whole life to hear are finally spoken.

“I waited my whole life to hear that.” Grayson’s lips twitch as a smile creeps up on his face, removing the serious man he was moments before and he can’t help but giggle like a baby when she pecks his nose – quickly as if she’s suddenly shy before him, as if he doesn’t know her body, movements and even the slightest changes in her facial expressions. He’s always known her better than anyone.

“I love you too. So fucking much…for so long.” He admits, eyes filled with tears as she too starts to cry from happiness.

“And I’m pretty sure we’ll have a baby.” She adds, waving her hands before her face to stop her makeup from spilling down her cheeks, but her smile never falters. Her eyes hold so many emotions at once, but her smile has only one purpose – to make him forget about all the worries he carries with him in the outside world.

“Let’s find out!” She scrambles to her feet, running into the bathroom as he watches her in complete bliss, happiest he’s ever been. She’s closing the door slowly, teasingly, keeping her eyes on him all the way before they’re shut and he can’t help but laugh when he hears her open the tap, aware she’s got a shy bladder and him being able to hear her is making it harder for her to pee.

He finally had an inner happiness, one utterly independent of the outside world. She smiled like it burst from within instead of being worn like an obligation in the way others did and Grayson never felt as grateful as he did just now, aware her smile will be a permanent presence in his life.

“It’s done.” She walks out with a slight spring to her step, holding the stick in her hand and she couldn’t stop her impatient pacing around Grayson, not even when he tried to pull her down to the bed with him. All he wanted was to kiss her and calm her as she does for him, but she needed this freak out. He understood that.

Glancing down, she huffed before her mind registered what her eyes caught sight of. There was an explosion in her brain - the good sort, the type that carries more possibilities than she could be conscious of, but there were hundreds of ideas of the future in that buzz of electricity... she could feel it. It was the calling card of adventure, of paths awaiting her feet. Whatever was ahead could be a great challenge, and there could be tears, but it was her adventure to take and so she smiled. After all, she wouldn’t be alone.

“It’s a positive.” She let the stick fall as Grayson stood up with his own emotions bubbling to the surface, allowing him to sweep her off the feet. Littering her neck with kisses, Grayson spun them around as she squealed, holding on tight with her legs wrapped around his waist.

Had someone told her she’s be in love with a baby on road five months ago when she attended Ethan’s wedding, she’d laugh at them. Not too long ago, she felt herself break for his twin only to realize she was in love with the wrong twin all along.

That night was different. She always felt Grayson put his emotions in every kiss and every move whenever they had sex, but the tenderness of their emotions being out in the open with the happy news overflowing their senses, it didn’t feel like sex. For the first time in her life she understood what it means to make love – to truly love someone with every part of your soul. She always kept some of her heart and soul for herself in past relationships, even with Ethan, but Grayson stole every last bit of her and yet she felt complete, fulfilled like never before.

That night felt right. He felt right.

“What will you tell your mom? Ethan?” She trails her fingers up and down his chest as his hand remains over her lower abdomen, hesitant to move an inch away just in case he feels something even though he knew it wasn’t likely.

“That I love you and you love me and we made ourselves a little miracle.” Grayson takes her wandering hand in his free one, pulling the back of it to his lips. As he leaves a lasting kiss, she grins but the thought of telling people still made her reluctant to leave the bed.

“I’m scared. They might hate me.” She admits sheepishly, looking up at him only to see his frown deepen.

“Ethan is married and my mom loves you. Cameron misses you too. It’s going to be fine and if it isn’t, I won’t let them make you sad. I’ll protect you.” Pecking her nose to seal his promise, he narrows his eyes in thought.

“You know what? I’ll text them all in the family group chat!” Grayson jumps from the bed, using the momentary shock to get away from Y/N before she shrieks. “It’s gonna be painless! I’ll send them a photo of the positive test to prepare them!” His explanation made no sense at all, of course, but he was fast, too fast for her to stop him.

“THEY DON’T EVEN KNOW WE’RE A THING!” She screams, her head in her hands as she blinks fast, trying to understand why he’s doing this but it’s not hard to forget his continuous talks about wanting to be a dad their whole friendship. It was something to boast about for him, but she was mortified. She respected his mother and she felt it was something she should learn of in person, but he had a different idea.

“Fuck.” Grayson’s eyes widen, aware she’s right but it was too late. He had pressed sent before his mind could take responsibility and control over his body and it took exactly ten seconds for his phone to explode because not only did he send it, but he posted it online.

“Why are you pale? You’re literally changing shades!” Y/N jumped too, worried his mother was already freaking out on them but as she looked at his phone and the frantic attempt he made to hide what he’s trying to delete, she realized he had made the entire world freak out.

“GRAYSON BAILEY DOLAN!”

Within hours, their secret was out. Even if he wasn’t a YouTube star anymore, the fan base remained loyal and the photo from his Snapchat was everywhere.

“Shower and get ready while I book us tickets home. Your mom deserves a real explanation.” Y/N ordered as she put her hair up in a tail and he knew better than to argue. After the lecture she held for hours with several mutual freak outs, he knew it was better to be quiet and just be glad she’s not leaving his ass.

Kissing her temple, he was surprised she didn’t push him away as it was the first physical contact they made since his mistake spread worldwide.

“You’re letting me touch you?” It passed his lips without thinking, making her turn to him and her hands quickly found their way to his face, pulling him down to her lips. It was a short kiss, but a reassuring one.

“I’m not sure who you’ve dated but I love you and I’m not going to torture you, okay? You made a big fucking mistake but it’s not something I’d hold over your head. Just get ready.” As he disappeared in the bathroom and turned the shower on, Y/N planned to book tickets and get ready too, but fate had different plans when her bell rang in a few minutes and she opened the door only to have the shock of a lifetime.

Heart beating frantically, she tried to compose herself in order to hide just how upsetting it is to find him there without even calling first. She didn’t need him showing up at her doorstep now…had he done it eight years ago when they broke up after their two year long relationship, maybe then she’d be happy. Now? It was unsettling.

"Why are you here, Ethan?" She frowned, her eyes hard and her jaw set, no room for forgiveness in her but he had to try. Walking past her and inside, he licks her lips before opening his mouth again. He knew he had to choose his words carefully.

"I'm here for you." He could hardly speak, his mouth dry and his hands shaky, feeling like a teenager once again. She always made his insides turn with every look and every smile, but this felt different. She was his judge and jury and he sure as hell committed a crime against her.

"You have a wife, Ethan. You married the girl you told me not to worry about!" Y/N reminds him, memories of their undoing running through her mind.

"Oh, you're gonna kiss her?" Y/N gnawed on the inside of her cheek anxiously, aware this isn't exactly cheating, so why did it hurt? Why did it feel like betrayal? Whenever she looked at her photos, she envied her looks. She looked gorgeous, legs for miles and perfect smile Y/N admired but also envied. Ethan’s fans always made sure she knew how their thought her smile is hideous and after a time, Y/N believed them. She stopped smiling with her teeth, hiding it with her hand whenever she could, never aware of Grayson’s sorrow with every hidden smile. But this girl had the smile they’d like. It’s the first thought that haunted her.

"Just for the video. It's all pretend and she's not even my type, okay? I tried getting Grayson to do it, but he's adamant about being behind the camera. Babe, you have nothing to worry about." Brushing her hair back, tucking it behind her ear, Ethan cupped her cheek with a tenderness she had a weakness for. He had the ability to drive her crazy with such simple tricks and she hated him for it. But she loved the way he’d look at her with care, as if she was the only girl he could see.

And she was. Little did she know, Ethan never loved another like her. Not before her and not after, but at the time, he never imagined he’d ever have to look into eyes that weren’t Y/N’s. She had made him thankful for being alive, for every moment and memory they made together. Memories that would later torment him.

"You can even come to the set if it will make you feel better." Ethan offered but she refused instantly. If she’s so beautiful in the photos, Y/N couldn’t handle her in person. It would be too hard to see Ethan, the man she loves so much, locking lips with another, a girl more suitable for him as his mother said.

"I love you, but I can't trust myself not to go feral on her." Y/N chuckled, but she meant it. How do people do this so easily? How can you separate what’s real and what’s acting when you’re immersed in a scene and the other person? Would Ethan be able to? She was most afraid he’d fall in love with the leggy model and she’d be yesterday’s news like people speculated since they went public. Sure, they never specified which model but they sure as hell weren’t shy about shipping him with every woman in the world beside her.

A few months later

"Hawaii?" Not only is it her dream place to visit, but also a chance to be with Ethan and make beautiful memories, but timing was killing her. She wished to spend the mornings at the beach with Grayson and waking Ethan later when she’s all wet from the ocean and having sex in the shower after. She wanted to run wild in the nature surrounding them, to feel rain on her skin as he makes a declaration of his undying love. She wanted to watch the sun set in his embrace and go skinny dipping under the cloak of night.

"I really can't. My cousin is having that surgery and I'm the only family member around that can take care of her. Damn it." Letting out a frustrated sigh, she threw herself on the bed with a dramatic flare she picked up from him. If anything, it’s true that people in relationships appropriate each other’s behaviors.

"That sucks." Ethan followed her move, but he truly felt sad she wouldn't join the trip. After everything he's been through with his family and losing himself in the past year he finally started to see the light at the end of the tunnel yet she was never waiting for him there. He woke up one day, finally feeling better and saw the distance between them and he feared what it would turn into if they don't reconnect. He easily forgot all the months she didn’t leave his side and her listening to every rant he could produce or her forgiving him every time he snapped at her. She was always there, but his insecurities had started to flood him and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’s avoiding spending time with him. He wondered if she loved him at all or if she found him to be the safe option – routine.

"You won't be alone. Grayson is gonna be there." She tried to cheer him up, unaware of the real list of all the people that would be going as well.

"And everyone else from the video. Plus some other friends." Ethan listed but all she heard was that Kristina would be there. She hated how deep it cut whenever her name came up, especially after the video went public and EVERYONE loved Ethan and Kristina as a couple. They made edits, videos, tagging Y/N in too many of them for her to really see them all but she saw enough. They made sure she knew she wasn’t good enough and they’d never accept her fully. He was always too good for her. At least in their eyes.

It wasn’t easy spending a week without him, complete radio silence. Knowing he was with her made her blood boil and her imagination wasn’t merciful either. But when he returned to her, it was with a smile and thoughtful gifts. As always, she couldn’t stay mad at him.

Soon after, Ethan had come to her with yet another dream trip planned out.

"But all my finals are during that time. I might have a week off for Christmas and New Year's but I'm swamped."

"It's fine." Ethan shrugged, aware there's no reason to fight. "I'll send you a ticked if you change your mind."

"You'll have Grayson. It’s gonna be awesome." Pecking his cheek, she leaned on his shoulder, suppressing the hurt of his continued choices of trips she wanted to take at times he knew she'd be too busy. Maybe it was a way for him to distance himself from her as he had been a bit snappy with every time she couldn’t show up for some gathering. Sometimes, she wondered if he was aware she wasn’t handed the world on a silver platter – she had to work, study, and tend to her family and friends too. He was finally doing better and she was ecstatic for him, but she couldn’t be his whole world.

"Kristina will pick us up!" Grayson screamed from somewhere inside the house, involuntarily adding fuel to the fire.

"She's gonna be there?!" And all her worst insecurities had resurfaced. Not only is he leaving to a different continent for a month or so, but he’d be there with the girl the world wants him with and at a time they seem to be struggling. Does she trust him? Yes. Can she say she’s not afraid he might break her trust? No.

"She's Australian and she’s gonna be there. So yeah." Ethan shrugs, lost to how it infuriates his girlfriend. He never did see the warning signs nor the way his fans’ comments tore her down and slowly scrapped her confidence to nothing. He had watched her light go out without ever doing anything to keep it safe.

"Is there a reason you keep taking trips with her whenever you know I can't leave LA?" She crossed her arms, standing up as her anger bubbled to the surface and her jealousy began to show. Accusations thrown were proof enough their relationship is crumbling, loss of trust filling the cracks left by their lack of communication and as time went by, they allowed the cracks to grow too big.

"No, but you're gonna find one." He grumbled and she only chuckled in disbelief.

"Nice. Turn it against me. Make me out to be the bad guy."

"Look, I can't keep doing this. Your unfounded jealousy is driving me nuts and if you can't trust me, why are we together?" He raised his voice but kept his cool, noticing her arms fall at her sides. It’s exactly what she always feared…he’d find a reason to cast her aside. All she could think is when did he last cry because she was hurt, or come running because he thought she needed help? He used to be so attentive and she understood when he needed to be cared for after his loss but he never really cared for her after that. She became the one making efforts to heal him while her own heart and mind were breaking in the process.

"Are you ending this? Leaving me?" She stumbled over her words as her heartbreak sounded like an explosion inside, making her legs weak.

"I'm saying I need a break. To think. To remind myself why we fell in love in the first place. You were supposed to be the one who stood by me forever and instead you are so mentally fragile that you can't believe in me against the smallest of whispers. But I stand by my offer. I'll send you a ticked if you want one."

Looking back at it now, Ethan knew it was mostly his own insecurities and depression talking and he hung around Kristina so much at first because he felt like that's the only time Y/N shows she cares for him. He had no idea he'd fuck up so bad. He had no idea he was breaking her to the point of no return and that he’d lose her forever.

"I know. But say the word and I'll leave her. We can try again. We can be what we should have been back then!" The way he talks is through his entire body, using his hands, facial expressions, every tool he can use to convince her, make her fall for him again.

"Like the tickets you promised to send me back then? The ones I never got?" And then it dawned on Ethan. Grayson told him he'd handle it. He sabotaged them.

“I asked Grayson to do it…I thought you had them and just didn’t want to come.” Ethan leaned back on the wall for support, wondering why his brother would ever do that to him when he knew Y/N was his sun back then. And even after.

“Right. Nice excuse there.”

“I’m not lying!” Ethan exclaims, shaking his head. “I’m not even sure where he is, but when I find him, I’ll kick his ass before finding out who’s the poor sap that let him impregnate her.” Ethan’s jaw clenches as he takes a step toward Y/N who reacted on instinct when she stepped back, her eyes relaying uncertainty she feels and the slightest bit of fear once she feels the alcohol on his breath.

“Just stay there.” She’s shaky, her mind running with a thousand worries and none of them are giving her room to breathe. Placing a hand over her lower abdomen, she turns her body sideways to protect her unborn child. She didn’t think he’d hurt her in any way, but she didn’t know him as well as she used to and alcohol was never a peaceful companion.

“I just want to hold you.” Ethan croaks, stepping closer when Grayson finally shows up.

“Stay away from her.” Getting in between them, Grayson shields Y/N from Ethan, holding Ethan’s gaze long enough to allow her to slip aside and take a deep breath. While he’s still dripping wet with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, Grayson stood proudly before his girl.

“You’re here?” Ethan chuckles, but then his smile is erased when he takes a good look at them both. “You’re here.” He repeats, realizing the horrifying truth he guessed before but never quite believed it.

“Did you…did you impregnate the love of my life?” Eerily quiet, his tone is sharp and voice low, deep and rumbling as his anger clouds his vision.

“You mean the love of my life? You married your girl, Y/N’s always been mine. You took her from me and I wasted ten years of my life watching you take her heart before breaking it. I won’t ever hurt her like you did. Now get out and come talk to me when you’re sober.”

Nostrils flared, Ethan nods, gnawing at his bottom lip as he glances at Y/N and walks back. Hands in his pockets, he chuckles lowly before walking out, leaving the pair alone.

“Are you okay?” Grayson’s concerned voice quickly makes its way to her heart, allowing it to beat at a peaceful pace, once again with the one she loves.

“Yeah.” She manages before hugging him, hiding her face in his chest with new cloud of doubt in her mind…did Grayson really sabotage them?

Their flight was almost twelve hours later, missing the one she wanted to catch while they cuddled to calm down. It was mainly for her benefit and Grayson was happy to oblige.

She was quiet. When Grayson picked up their suitcase, she simply pecked his cheek as a thank you. When Grayson had to swerve to avoid a crash, wide-eyed as he asked her if she's okay, she placed her hand on his knee and nodded. When they sat for hours during their flight, she stared through the window and Grayson felt the lump in his throat grow with every passing minute.

Despite what she may think, Grayson heard a good deal of the conversation she held with his brother...the man she used to whisper I love you before him. Knowing Ethan wants her back and is willing to blow his entire marriage too had made Grayson revert back to the angry, doubtful, hesitant man he was when he first lost her to his brother and it hurt...it hurt that she chose Ethan who had his face but a vastly different personality. Grayson felt inadequate, unworthy, unlovable and to feel that way again, ten years later and when she's pregnant with HIS child? It was worse than before. Insufferable, absolutely soul-aching and tiresome.

Did she regret it now? Regret him and their unborn child? Did she hate him for not sending those tickets? Was she wondering what her life would be like if he had sent them?

Whether he wanted to or not, he certainly thought about it. Imagining them making up, staying together and getting married, his Y/N having his twin's children? It made him sick to his stomach. And frightened of the future, of the simmering fire in her mind as it uncovers every memory she has from that time.

And she did. For a moment, the thought of Ethan crossed her mind but she didn't linger too long on what could have been, rather on why. She wished she knew why Grayson did what he did back then and if he didn't intervene, would Ethan be sitting next to her instead? Maybe...but he isn't and she should ask Grayson for the truth but she knows he's insecure about her past with Ethan, even if he doesn't voice those concerns.

So, instead of rehashing the past, she gave herself time to get over it in order to protect Grayson from any hurt. She told him she loves him, she's carrying his child - isn't that enough to prove he's the one she wants?

"It's going to be fine." Grayson places his palm over the back of her hand that laid flat on her thigh. He could tell she's worried as her gaze fixed on the house he grew up in, overwhelmed with possible scrutiny she may face. He wouldn't let her take the heat.

Interlocking their fingers, he saw her lips quiver momentarily before she pressed them together, turning back to him with a reluctant nod.

"I know." Her heavenly voice eased his own anxiety, making him smile in return before their hands parted and they left the car.

And as they move inside, Grayson placed his hand on the small of her back, looking at her with admiration. He should be worried, but he can't find it in him to regret anything that happened between them in the past five months. The only thing he regrets is the time wasted they could have spent together.

However, the moment they walk in, their worry is replaced by utter surprise when they're met with a rather happy little group.

"Congratulations!"

Lisa, Cameron and her husband, Kristina and...Ethan, all clapped as Grayson and Y/N half embraced one another, Grayson's grip stronger to make sure she doesn't fall back in shock. He looks to Ethan for a moment, wondering how he got there so fast but decides to keep quiet. It's the best thing for everyone.

"Oh, wow!" Y/N exclaims, struggling to draw a proper breath as everyone cheers and though it's meant to ease her mind, it made her more confused.

"You know?" Grayson turns to his mother who nods, laughing.

"Since the wedding. We saw you two sneaking around!"

Cheeks red and eyes set on the floor, Y/N smiles awkwardly, finding it's even worse when they seem to be so accepting, especially after Ethan came to her door not too long ago, with an offer to leave his wife for her and now he had an arm around his wife's waist.

"Don't be so shy, you're giving me my first grandchild! Plus, you've been a part of the family for so long that I'm happy we are actually family!"

Going through motions, that's how it felt. Everyone's hugging her, kissing her, touching her stomach and all she can focus on is the unrelenting, piercing gaze of her former boyfriend. She'd glance around the room, simply to see if she's the only one that notices, but no one else picked up on the dynamic between her and Ethan. Even Grayson seemed oblivious.

"So, everyone is going off to bed." Grayson whispers in her ear, kissing her neck delicately as she smiles, leaning back into him.

"So, what do you suggest we do?" She raises an eyebrow, craning her neck to peck his Adam's apple, relinquishing control as he sways them lightly to the beat of their hearts.

"Maybe you could talk to me?" Ethan startles them, making their little moment end prematurely when Grayson really wanted to slow dance with her where he once saw his parents do the same. He thought it would be romantic, but he found himself ticked off instead.

"You need to stay in your lane, bro." Grayson warns, his face dark as he meets Ethan's longing stare - the one he wore since he met Y/N and he knew Ethan could see he was suffering yet he never cared, so why should he?

"I'll talk to you." Y/N, however, had a different idea. Perhaps it was time to talk, calmly without any bitterness inside her.

"You don't have to." Grayson reminds her, but she just nods, silent again as her lips touch upon his, barely long enough for him to feel anything before she walked away, outside where he feared he might lose her again.

He swore he'd never stand by and watch her walk away with Ethan or any other man again, but he found himself doing it once more.

"So, I'm not going to be the enemy forever?" Ethan leaned on the wall, his eyes alight with the lamp above his head.

"I'm here to close that chapter of our lives." She folds her arms over her chest, absentmindedly tapping her foot against the wet ground beneath her feet.

"Close? So it was open all this time?" Ethan's voice beckons her to respond, his regrets written on his face and he couldn't hide it at all. If he knew he had a chance at any point in time, he'd have taken it.

"Until I saw you get married, I had trouble letting you go." Y/N admits, looking back at the house and up at the room she and Grayson are meant to share is already illuminated by the lamp beside the bed.

"But not anymore. I love Grayson and I think a small part of me always did." Smiling, she looks back at Ethan who swallowed thickly, nodding with a heavy heart.

"Was any of it real? Did you ever love me or was I always the wrong brother? The one you settled for? Why does this hurt so much?" The way he bows his head, unable to look her in the eye is breaking her heart because once upon a time, Ethan really was her prince charming. It hurts to see him so consumed with the past they left behind long ago - the past that consumed her too, up until Grayson saved her from it.

"Because it was real. You stole my heart when I least expected it." The joy in her voice when she spoke about them made his heart break further and even the light her eyes held when she remembered the time he had made her so incredibly happy made him smile despite the pain.

"I loved you for a really long time, Ethan, but I can't lie and say that the main reason why I didn't say yes to you when you first asked me on a date wasn't Grayson. I buried those feelings for years and I fell in love with your beautiful soul and brilliant mind but you also broke my heart and damaged my ability to trust people and love. You found a really good woman, E. Maybe it's time you appreciate her and let me go." Pressing her lips together, she let out a heavy sigh as he kept his gaze steady on her, his eyes sparing no tears as they fall freely.

"Okay? You can love me and still let me go. Because I let you go. For good." And with that, she took a step back, walking back to the house and with every step she felt lighter, happier, while Ethan remained behind.

"You can get out now." Ethan spoke up once she entered the house, looking up at the roof where he heard his brother hiding. He always listened in to people talking as a kid, well...they did it together. He had a feeling Grayson wouldn't miss this talk.

Looking down, Grayson rolls his eyes, slowly moving himself down. He had to be careful or Y/N would kill him if he hurt his back. Maybe she'd kill him for being there at all. It occured to him she may see it as his lack of trust in her, but it was more about his fear of not being enough for her...thank maybe Ethan was still a fresh wound for her.

"You won. She chose you." Ethan says, kicking a rock with his hands in the front pockets of his sweatpants.

"I didn't doubt she would." Grayson shrugs, but he was never a good liar. Ethan could always read him.

"Riiight. Look, I'm sorry. I won't be doing any stupid shit anymore. I had my chance and I blew it and...Looking back at it, I was the one who stole her from you. Deep down, I knew you loved her but a part of me didn't care because I loved her too. I convinced myself she didn't feel the same for you but you two were always closer. She was so much like me, but she always found common ground with you. You made her laugh like I never could and if she's gotta be with someone else, I'm glad it's you."

Finally at peace, Grayson and Ethan parted ways that night as brothers once more. Ethan made his way to his wife, promising himself to show her love she deserves and Grayson? He went to his soulmate with arms wide open, a promise to be the best father he can be and if she allows, husband as well.

"How are you?" He whispers, his hand back on her stomach as she laid on her back beside him.

"Happy." She hums, letting out a heavy sigh.

"But?" Grayson knew that sigh and he knew her, she was holding out on him.

"I finally cut ties with Ethan, but I can't help myself...why didn't you send those tickets?" Looking up at him, she pondered if he'd tell her the truth but he had no reason to lie now, did he?

"Because he told me to send you tickets the same day I saw him kiss her for the first time. I didn't want you to come there and pick up on their shit only to be stuck in Australia for the holidays." Kissing her forehead, Grayson drew a shuddered breath.

"And maybe because I worried he'd find a way to convince you to forgive and forget." But Y/N felt this meant more. Did he think she'd do that this night too?

"You know I love you? Since you asked me to cook for you in return for a watch! And this...you and me and this miracle we made...it's everything." Turning to her side, she splayed her palm on his chest, over his heart.

"You gave me your heart Grayson and I plan to keep it safe for as long as I live."

"Marry me then."

He didn't expect her to agree, not ever let alone when he asked so spontaneously without a ring or a big romantic gesture. Her nails weren't done anyway to show off the ring as most girls seemed to like.

"Yes!" But she did. Enthusiastically so. Her lips smashed against his instantly, turning his brain to mush.

But that night was only the beginning of their relationship.

While their families wanted a big wedding, planning everything because Y/N only wanted the final word on the choices they make with an occasional “LET’S ELOPE” freak out, the pair spent time enjoying their love and the growing life inside Y/N.

"It's a girl." Y/N claimed, but Grayson didn't care as long as the baby is healthy. Ever since the first ultrasound when he heard a heartbeat, Grayson was impatient to meet the baby and became stubbornly overbearing with Y/N.

She didn’t mind…too much. She’d catch him staring at her as her belly grew, noticing how in awe he is of her, unaware he’s wondering how one so fragile and tiny could grow a human inside and actually bring it into the world. He wasn’t the type to sit back and let her deal with it – he got involved. Grayson listened to audio books on pregnancy, delivery and raising children every day while he built some of the things he wanted for the nursery, always when she was asleep.

They agreed to raise their family in Los Angeles, mainly because Grayson knows Y/N hates snow and the LA climate appealed to her more. But then again, he insisted he should have free reign on the nursery, building everything he can to make it special for their child.

With every passing month, he’d measure Y/N’s belly and note it, downloading an application that helped him keep up with the development.

“Sigh.”

“Did you just say sigh out loud?” Grayson couldn’t help but chuckle at his fiancé, smitten by her even though she was increasingly complaining of her looks – something he made sure to stop with unlimited compliments every day, loving her even when she was terrorizing him with pregnancy cravings and sleepless nights that came with her newly developed snoring problem. Grayson truly adored every part of this pregnancy, especially how horny she became.

“I’m bored.” Sheepishly, she puts her leg over Grayson’s, his hand reacting on instinct as it rubs up and down her calf, lightly massaging her aching muscles.

“The doctor told you to rest. So, you’ll do just that and I’ll be your slave as promised.” Grayson tried to reason with her so many times before, but every time he turned his back on her he’d find her up and about. She is stubborn, but very much ready to have the baby they decided not to find out the sex of.

“I know! But I want to take a walk and get ice cream and have reckless, rough sex without this huge stomach making it impossible. And I want a drink…so bad…but I want to breastfeed too! Oh, God, I didn’t think this through.” Hiding her face in the pillow…as much as she could without turning over on her stomach, Y/N cried out of pure frustration while Grayson rubbed her back and held her close.

Hormones in the last trimester weren’t as helpful as they were in the first two. She cried ten times a day, mostly over the silliest things like “The sun is so pretty” or “That shirt fits you so well” and even “Why do I have to pee again”. Regardless how silly it was, he’d never tell her. Her body is undergoing massive changes and all because she’s going to give him the greatest gift of all – a chance to be a father and start a family, to be a man he wanted to be.

But when her water broke just a couple of days later, neither of them were quite ready for it. While Grayson ran around the house, gathering things she’d need in the hospital he made a Pinterest board about, Y/N was trying to remind herself why she did this in the first place.

It’s all fun and games until the pain starts to set in.

“Oh, we should have gotten a surrogate.” She whined as he helped her in the car, thanking his lucky stars he had the keys at hand and didn’t forget them like Ethan teased him he would.

“You’re doing great, love!” He wanted to be calm and supportive, but even Grayson was screaming in a state of panic and he’d laugh if he didn’t find it quite tragic how he’s acting like a scared teen when he’s almost thirty.

“DON’T SCREAM AT ME!” However, he had to reel it in when she started to cry again, realizing he’s scaring her more. But as they got to the hospital and Y/N went straight to the delivery room, Grayson held her hand all the way through – constantly reminding her to breathe so the child could breathe too, guiding her as much as he could between the hand crushing squeezes she’d administer with every push.

Grayson felt like every fiber of his being was vibrating with anticipation. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins. His hands trembled and his eyes were wide. The moment he heard that first cry was also the moment he felt his life had begun and he never felt such gratitude to the universe that gave him Y/N, his soulmate, who was gracious enough to give him the love of his life. Or two other he’d get in the next four years – their rainbow babies - twins, a boy and a girl.

“You were right. It’s a girl.”

This world is quite astonishing, when you claw your way out of the mire of dysfunction. When you first look over the horizon and see nature without the haze of discontent and petulance. Without any filter, with the naked eye and mind open to the beauty of this world, amazement comes. When you see those simple things, when you can fall in love with the simplest things, everything gets so much better. The larger things become almost overwhelming, the sense of love so much stronger. It is then you realize that before you lived a half-life, greyed and without the warmth each human is born with.

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay @beinscorpio @peacedolantwins @godlydolans @dolandolll @heyits-claire @ethanhes

Their Rainbow Baby - deleted scene

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan x reader #ethan dolan x reader #grayson dolan angst #ethan dolan angst #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan imagine

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houseofhurricane · 3 years

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ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (19/28) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

Summary: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court, trying to prevent the Dread Trove from falling into the wrong hands and wrestling with the gifts the Cauldron imparted when she was Made. Lucien, asked to join her, must contend with secrets about his mating bond. Meanwhile, Tamlin struggles to lead the Spring Court in the aftermath of the war with Hybern. And Vassa, the human queen in their midst, wrestles with the enchantment that turns her into a firebird by day, robbing her of the power of speech and human thought. Looming over all of them is uniquet peace in Prythian and the threat of Koschei, the death-god with unimaginable power. With powers both magical and monstrous, the quartet at the Spring Court will have to wrestle with their own natures and the evil that surrounds them. Will the struggle save their world, or doom it?

A/N: Lucien attempts to return the Autumn Court to its rightful High Lord, while trying to figure out the worsening effects of the curse on Vassa. You can find all previous chapters here, or read Bloom & Bone on AO3. Thank you for reading! ❤️ If you'd like to get an early preview on the next chapter, follow me on Instagram at @house.of.hurricane.

The days after Vassa’s rescue are so filled with political deliberation between the High Lords and nobles of Prythian that even Lucien’s mind, so accustomed to strategy and scheming, is overwhelmed. He had planned for his reunion with Vassa to feature sleepless nights and tangled sheets, a variety of creative positions and a thousand different sounds of pleasure leaving Vassa’s lips. Instead, as soon as the meetings are over for the day, a member of the Night Court winnows her to the day’s meeting place so that she can join the long dinners, then ferries her to the Spring Court where she and Lucien fall into sleep. She reaches for him, insists despite the pain he can see in her eyes, the tears that fall as soon as their kisses reach a fevered pitch.

He always rises to find that in sleep, she has rolled to the farthest corner of the bed, where he cannot touch her even accidentally.

Still, when he tries to ask her what he can do, how he can help, she insists that he has other priorities. As if he cannot see the darkness around her eyes, the way that, in mere days, she’s grown almost frail. A shadow of herself.

When it’s decided there will be an attempt at diplomacy with the Autumn Court, Vassa rouses herself, invites Tamlin and Elain to join them for champagne to celebrate their emissaries, Lucien and Elain both having been selected.

“You’ll make sure she’s out of danger,” Tamlin says to Lucien as soon as they clink glasses, and Lucien, nodding, sees Vassa roll her eyes at Elain, who smothers her answering laugh behind her hands.

“You’re sure a firebird would not advance your cause?” Vassa asks, the joke turning plaintive. Elain reaches out her hand and then drops it, a thump against her skirts, before she can harm Vassa with a conciliatory touch. They’d agreed that the risk to Vassa did not merit the benefit of the clear alliance with the human realms. Not when the stories of Lucien and Vassa had begun to spread.

“I will keep him safe, Queen of Scythia,” Elain says after a moment, the smile in her voice, returning them to the moment, the kind of camaraderie she’d longed for in those weeks at the Night Court.

“Good,” Vassa says, and for a moment her face is alight as it ever was, her eyes sapphire-bright, “because I never worry about you anymore, Elain Archeron. You listen very well to me. Unlike certain High Fae males who love to hover over extremely capable women.”

She shoots a glance at Lucien, her lips pursed comically, and when he allows himself to laugh, he feels the brightness spread over his body, more intoxicating than the sparkling wine. He lets himself pretend, just for the space of an evening, that everything is fine, that this haven could be a lasting one, that he will hear these three laughing and teasing and happy all his life.

Before dawn, she kisses him and sets off for the lake alone.

“You can save this world with your words alone,” she says, her fingers on his face, gentle on the scars that surround his ruined eye. Watching her expression, he’d never know this gesture caused her pain. Still, knowing what he knows, Lucien cannot bring himself to take another kiss.

“I’ll save you next,” he tells her.

“Or you’ll watch as I save myself, Vanserra.” She smiles then, and swings herself from the bed to the door in a single fluid motion, as if they existed in a moment they have never known, when everything was all right.

Before the rest of the manor wakes, Lucien lights a candle, busies himself with the strategies, all the reminders he wants to give the rest of the diplomatic party, which will comprise Nesta, Elain and himself. It had been agreed that the High Lords would stay out of the initial stage of negotiations, and still Lucien worries that this group is too small, too tied to the Night Court, with two Archeron sisters with largely unknown powers who were all too recently human. And yet he has held his tongue. Because Elain has surprised him and Nesta has terrified him, and all three sisters seem to have a knack for prevailing when the rest of Prythian thinks they’re doomed.

For a moment, he wishes that he could consult Eris, but his brother has been staying in the Night Court, no doubt to Morrigan’s dismay. Still, given Rhysand’s relative strength, it makes sense to mark him as an ally. And for all that Lucien likes his brother in spite of himself, he much prefers the nights he spends in the Spring Court without the threat of his judgement and withering remarks.

Instead of ruminating over the past, he takes one more breath, reviews his notes, all the things that could unfold today, and decides that he is as ready as he can be.

By the time Lucien joins Elain and Tamlin for breakfast, he’s decided that the mission will prevail. Elain has even worn a dress in the tawny browns and deep greens of the Autumn Court, tied her hair back from her face with a red ribbon.

“Those colors don’t suit you,” Tamlin is saying, lifting a cherry turnover from the serving platter to her plate.

“What colors would you prefer me in, High Lord?” Elain’s cheeks are pink and while Lucien is sure that there are headier implications to her question, he decides he will not consider them.

Instead, he heaps his plate high and talks through the strategy with Elain, more for Tamlin’s benefit than hers.

“Do you think that Nesta will behave herself?” Tamlin asks, once the review is complete.

“Nesta likes Eris more than anybody,” Elain responds, in a tone that barely covers her amazement.

“Nesta’s job is to be terrifying,” Lucien adds.

“It’s what she’s best at, isn’t it?”

It is, of course, Nesta behind him, and Lucien shoots Elain a look, asking how will she kill me? Elain, standing to greet her sister, does not cover her commiserating smile, which seems to suggest his death is imminent.

“You’re ready for the Autumn Court?” Nesta asks Elain, who stand alongside the grand table, a study in contrasts. Nesta has come in her Illyrian, her hair braided in a crown on her head and her sword at her side. Her body is small but all of its angles are fierce, almost severe. Next to her, Elain looks impossibly soft, so gentle that Lucien is reminded why everyone always underestimates her.

But still Elain shoots back, “I’m the one taking us there. You’ll know when I’m ready for the Autumn Court. Would you like Lucien to remind you of the strategy?”

“Rhys and Feyre woke me up early to review. You’d think the dignity of the Night Court was at stake.”

“Only the peace in Prythian,” Lucien drawls, his eyes darting to Tamlin who, as expected, has his knife and fork clutched in an extremely tight grip.

“Feyre told me the same thing before she crawled inside my mind,” Nesta says, running her eyes over Lucien, redoubling her statement. “I know I’m only to speak when you want me to scare them.”

“And if Koschei is there, you do not fight him,” Elain adds, smoothing her fingers over her skirts. “Let Lucien winnow you.”

“You’ll let Lucien winnow you also,” Tamlin says, his voice strangled with restraint. Lucien can tell that he is trying very hard not to loom over Elain.

“I will let Lucien winnow me,” Elain echoes, meeting his eye as her cheeks go pink. Nesta lets out a sigh that sounds very like a snarl, and if it weren’t a sign of worry, Lucien would bury his head in his hands.

There are a thousand more important things at this moment than romantic tension. And still Lucien wishes this was his only problem.

So instead he meets Tamlin’s eye and promises to winnow Elain, does not look away from Nesta’s glare as he tells her that she is welcome to speak, he’s heard she has good diplomatic instincts, but he will welcome her sword if everything goes to shit.

Then, because for a moment he feels like his old self again, he meets Elain’s eyes and says, “Let’s see if you’re a real emissary now.”

When Elain sticks out her tongue at him, it’s impossible to hold back his laugh.

“Feyre is having too much fun watching you,” Nesta says, extending her hand towards her other sister. “Now can you please take us to the Autumn Court so I can stop hearing her cackle in my mind? I don’t think it’s good form to be late.”

Elain’s smile flickers out but she reaches for Lucien and Nesta, lets the tethering spell bind them, and the Spring Court rips away.

The wall of fire around the Autumn Court castle is new.

“I told you we should have arrived directly inside,” Nesta says, eyeing the unbroken flames.

“It would be an act of war to simply appear inside the court itself,” Lucien says as levelly as he can, reaching out to the wall of fire with his own magic, scanning it with his golden eye. There are protective and defensive spells interwoven with the fire itself, powerful enough that unraveling the magic isn’t a practical option. Anyway, an alarm has likely sounded.

Sure enough, the flames part just wide enough to let a person pass.

Lucien knows things are headed to shit when he doesn’t recognize the gangly squire who appears to greet them. He had hoped that his mother would be the one to welcome their group, even if his brothers would have been the more appropriate group, would-be High Lords welcoming the delegation sent by the other rulers of Prythian.

Instead they are welcomed like beggars, and the young male who greets them looks nervous.

He sees Nesta reach for her sword and doesn’t bother to try and restrain her. His brothers begin with disrespect and then quickly move to violence.

“We are the delegation sent by the High Lords of Prythian,” Elain says, her voice honeyed in a way that makes this nervous page blush and fidget. “Lady Cybele should be expecting us after our message.”

“Cybele d-doesn’t rule this court,” the page says, trying out a nasty tone that distorts his features.

Elain flexes her fingers and her skin takes on a golden glow that is distinct from the firelight. When he glances at Nesta, he sees silver flames flicker to life in her eyes. He wishes they would save this bravado for his brothers, but at any rate, the page grows pale.

“We’ve come to meet with whoever does rule this court.” Elain’s voice is now too pleasant. “And I’m sure you can agree that we should expect to find that a brother of its ruler welcome to enter without this kind of horrible scrutiny.”

“I was told that the b-bastard has to stay outside.”

Elain turns her glance to Lucien, her eyes gone wide. She can pull Nesta from the world, but if Koschei is inside, Lucien was always intended to be the quick exit.

Nesta interrupts, fingers wrapped around the sword at her hip.

“Who is inside the castle, boy?” Her impression of Amren is impeccable, and the page’s face grows pale.

He reaches for Elain but Lucien is too swift, and in half a breath the darkness has enveloped them and released them to the forests of the Autumn Court.

“He was going to take you to Koschei,” Lucien says before Elain can begin her protest. “Thank the Mother that my brothers are too stupid to train their henchmen.”

“Tell Feyre that we’ll need protection at the Spring Court,” Elain says to Nesta, squeezing Lucien’s fingers as she gives the order. “They could be coming for Vassa next.”

“The Valkyries are guarding her today,” Nesta says, “but we should get out of this court before we have to deal with any more Vanserras.”

“One is enough?” he asks, preparing the tethering spell, snipping its edges so that only the three of them can be carried by Elain’s magic.

“I’m fairly certain you and Eris are the only decent ones.”

“His mother is trapped in that castle,” Elain points out, grabbing tight to Lucien’s wrist, to Nesta’s. The forest becomes the passageways, becomes a winter forest scented with pine, a marketplace, an expanse of tall concrete buildings seemingly held to the clouds by magic, becomes, finally, the great hall of the Spring Court, where Tamlin waits, clad in his battle armor, two swords strapped across his back.

Behind him, still in his flawless court jacket and shining boots, Eris waits. And it is to that spotless figure that Elain runs, all the colors of autumn, her magic still aglow on her face.

Lucien launches himself after her but there’s a hand on his chest. Nesta. A warning in her eyes that he can’t decipher.

Elain stops inches from Eris, close enough that his features are cast in her golden light. Behind her, Tamlin looms, a sword drawn in his hand, ready to strike. But Elain does not hear or notice him. Her focus is only on Eris.

“Will you break the alliance with Koschei?” she asks, her hands on her hips.

“We’ve discussed this at length,” Eris says. Lucien can see in the tightness of his jaw that he’s trying to determine whether Elain can kill him, whether Tamlin will slice him to bits at her command. That he’s realizing the relative weakness of his own position, his rightful position as High Lord dependent on too many factors. That if Elain tried to destroy him, perhaps nobody would stop her.

“I am asking you as emissary of the Spring Court and friend to the Queen of Scythia. As the person who helped rescue you from Koschei, the death-lord who holds you under a curse. I am asking as the female who can harm you with a single brush of my fingers thanks to his spell on you.”

“I didn’t think you realized that it wasn’t only your human friend under his spell,” Eris says, and nobody can miss the way he leans back from Elain, an unmistakable confirmation.

“Koschei will try to tear apart Prythian until he claims both Vassa and me. He is likely searching for you as well.”

There’s a shift in Eris’ features, a pain he tries to hide, and suddenly the situation becomes deadly clear to Lucien.

“What did he promise you?” he calls to his brother, the only one he has a sliver of hope in. In a flash of movement, Tamlin’s sword is pointed at Eris, and Nesta surges toward him, coming alongside Elain with her own blade pointed at the would-be High Lord of Autumn.

“I haven’t allied with him,” Eris says, managing to smirk even at the steel pointed at him, all the allies he stands to lose. “But there are whispers that he can break this curse on me. A curse which a High Lord cannot bear. Not if he will truly rule his people.”

Elain steps toward him, her skirts sighing. She’s so close that Eris could grab her if he wanted, Eris who never shows his hand until it suits him.

“I know what it is to be a pawn,” she says. “And I am working to understand the complexity of Koschei’s magic. I don’t know, yet, how we could release you from this curse but I am working to find out. When I learn how, I will unbind you myself.”

“They should write legends about the overconfidence of your family,” Eris says, assessing her.

“If you ally with Koschei, Eris, they will never write legends about you at all,” Nesta points out, letting the tip of her sword snag on a button, which falls to the ground with a ping. “And you will lose the allegiance of the Night Court.”

Tamlin only tucks Elain against his side. He knows the allegiance of the Spring Court does not much matter, especially to a member of the Autumn Court, who so easily invaded.

When Lucien finally speaks, he’s surprised at how easily the words fall from his lips. As if he had been dreaming them.

“If you vow to fight against Koschei,” he says to his brother, “I vow that I will not rest until the High Lords of Prythian go united into battle for your throne. You should know that I have friends in every court who listen to my counsel. You will not reclaim the throne without allies. And together, perhaps those same allies could join together and rid you of Koschei’s curse.”

He’s thrown in this last without knowing if it’s possible, without knowing if the High Lords would ever agree, especially given what happened to Feyre, but Elain stiffens at Tamlin’s side, the gesture her body makes when she has a new idea.

“I haven’t forgotten that you killed my father,” Eris says, finally, and the words sound like a threat, but Lucien knows his brother well enough to see the relief in his voice, the tiniest hint of the smile he’s unable to hide from a practiced observer.

“Beron tried to harm my friends.” Lucien meets his brother’s eyes, lets his meaning become clear. He lets his magic, the light and fire, burn in the air around him.

Eris steps back, away from the swords and the tense and thickening magic.

“Promise you’ll free me from this curse and I vow I will never ally with the death-lord Koschei.”

“As soon as Vassa is free, we will free you,” Lucien says, watches as Elain nods, as Tamlin lowers his sword, and Nesta reluctantly follows. “But first, it seems we will need to go to war for your throne.”

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romansleftshoulderpad · 5 years

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Hellfire, Dark Fire

Words: 1,658

Ships: Dukeceit, implied LAMP

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, Sympathetic Remus, PG13, implied nsfw, thanks to the lyrics I accidentally implied that LAMP fucks like rabbits but it be like that sometimes, food mention, death mention, poison mention

Also HUGE shoutout to @virge-of-a-breakdown for helping me out with this

Tags: @fandermom @patchworkofstars @poisonedapples @hogwarts-my-love @opaque-puppet @omni-hamiltrash @darling-elm @jynxlovesluck @localtransgrape @because-were-fam-ily

---

Beata Maria, You know I am a righteous man Of my virtue, I am justly proud.

Deceit and Remus had come to an agreement at some point after Virgil left. They worked alone, but they were not uncivil. They ate meals together, often socialized and conspired together, but they each had their own separate spaces. It was simple and organized.

So why did things have to change?

Deceit knew who he was. He knew how others saw him. He’s a liar, deception incarnate, a snake, a fiend, the list goes on and on. But Deceit also knew that he was honest where it mattered most, he was honest with himself. Logan, Roman, and Patton can lie to themselves day in and day out but he knows it will never get them anywhere. Virgil can lie to himself about how he’s free from his past, but those lies are more of a ball and chain than his past will ever be.

Beata Maria, You know I’m so much purer than the common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd

But Deceit was starting to regret that promise to himself. Ever since Remus had come out of the dark, he had been stronger and more powerful. It was almost intoxicating to watch him work.

Then tell me, Maria, Why I see him dancing there? Why his smoldering eyes still scorch my soul?

“Oh, it was fantastic!” Remus had yelled, his legs swung over the top of the couch as he hung from it upside down. “There was a song and- Oh! You should have seen the way Patton squirmed! It was delightful!”

“And our dear, old friend?”

“Oh, the itsy bitsy spider?” Remus laughed. “As Emo as ever.”

Deceit rolled his eyes, obviously not satisfied with the answer at hand. “Happy to hear that. All seems to be going according to plan, then?”

“You bet your bottom dollar, boss,” Remus teased. “And you can bet your bottom too.” He laughed as he wiggled his eyebrows but Deceit only rolled his eyes.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Only in the bedroom!”

Deceit picked up Remus’s feet and gently tossed him onto the ground. The Duke, however, only laughed as he folded his arms over Deceit’s lap and propped his chin into his hands. “I knew you’d have me on my knees on of these days,” he said with a wink.

Deceit flipped off Remus as he felt the human side of his face turn beet red. “I absolutely despise you.”

Remus laughed and stuck out his tongue as he scrunched his face in a weirdly adorable way. “Sure you do,” he chuckled. This did not help Deceit’s blush.

As time went on, things only changed more and more. He found himself fixated on Remus. On how Remus’s hair looked shiny and smooth in the light. He was fixated on Remus’s eyeshadow and how it brought out the way his hazel eyes twinkled anytime he had an idea. He was fixated on how Remus’s collarbones stuck out from his shirt. He was fixated on everything beneath Remus’s clothes.

It only got worse in winter. While Florida never got very cold in the winters, temperatures were always amplified in the mindscape; ergo, Deceit was freezing.

But Remus was there. Remus was there to supply him with blankets and hot chocolate. Damn him, Deceit thought as Remus leaned in close, carefully wrapping another blanket around Deceit’s shoulders. Deceit could feel the heat of his breath against his face which didn’t smell like something vile for once. “Did you steal my hot chocolate?” Deceit asked.

“Had to make sure the taste of poison was properly concealed,” he teased.

“If you wanted to kill me, it’d be much easier to just let me freeze.”

“Perhaps,” Remus said, pulling Deceit’s chin down and slowly pouring hot chocolate into his mouth. “As entertaining as it would be to watch you die, I’d be horribly lonely then. So, really, I have no choice but to take care of you.”

Deceit smiled, pushing the cup away from his face. “I hate you, too.”

I feel him, I see him The sun caught in his raven hair is blazing in me out of all control.

The worst of it all though was when Remus would hold Deceit in his arms and they’d sit by the fire together. Due to the close proximity to heat, Deceit could get by with just his old grey sweater and scarf, but Remus insisted that he needed the extra body heat. His touches felt hotter than fire.

Like fire Hellfire

He found himself half-asleep, rag-dolling in Remus’s lap as his eyes stayed fixated on fire but the rest of his body was fixated on the way Remus’s mustache brushed against his cheek or how his breath hit his neck. Remus pulled him closer ever so slightly and neatly pressed a kiss to his cheek. Deceit let out a contented sigh and let his eyes slip shut, focusing on nothing other than how he felt in Remus’s arms.

He didn’t want to love Remus. He was too tired to care.

This fire in my skin.

Was there any point in lying to himself? Could Deceit spare a moment of honesty to allow himself to revel in this moment? As Remus’s mouth moved down to his neck, kissing his skin ever so gently, ever so slowly, every part of him was screaming, “hell yes!”

This burning desire

He turned towards Remus, both of them stuck in time from the moment they locked eyes. After an infinity of waiting, Deceit moved in closer and their lips met with a passion that burned brighter than the crackling fire next to them.

Is turning me to sin.

Months of unspoken feelings easily rolled off the tongue of a wordless conversation. Hands explored bodies, fingers tangled through hair, each of them new territory for the other to explore. It was invigorating and enlightening. It was alive!

Deceit had forgotten all about winter. All that mattered was Remus. Remus’s hair. Remus’s skin. Remus.

It was a night of pure ecstasy.

But a morning as if nothing had happened. Remus was back to being his usual, annoying self. He made sure that Deceit was warm, but made no mention of the kiss...es.

Somehow the anger of being ignored just made Deceit want him even more. And the punishment for lying to oneself truly begins.

“Is anything the matter my serpentine fiend?” Remus asked, gently sliding a mug of hot cocoa in front of Deceit.

Deceit silently pushed the mug away. “I’m sick of chocolate.”

“I used a special ingredient,” Remus hummed as he pushed the mug back towards Deceit. “Oh don’t give me that sour face!”

“This is poisoned, isn’t it?”

Remus feigned a gasp. “I am shocked! I am offended that you would suggest that I would harm a dear friend!”

Deceit picked up the mug and dumped its contents onto the floor. “Someone’s going to have to clean that up.”

“Wow! I didn’t know it was possible for you to be more of an asshole!”

Deceit dropped the mug and apathetically watched it shatter into pieces. “Whoopsies.”

“I have a feeling you’re mad at me.”

Deceit gasped. “Whatever gave you such an idea?!”

“Do you want me to suck your dick?”

“Perhaps then you’d have some good ideas.”

“Okay, now you’re just being mean.” Remus sat down next to Deceit at the table and grabbed his ice-cold hand. “C’mon, Double D, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“You are!” he yelled. “I- I am... I... don’t know.”

“That’s honest,” Remus said. “You’re at least trying.

Deceit looked up at him and had a rush of déja vu. How easy it would be to kiss Remus once more and feel that same flood of electricity and emotion. “Everything is so... complicated, lately.”

“How so?”

Deceit said nothing but buried his face behind his scarf. He felt Remus’s hand brush against his scales. Remus was fire. He was uncontrollable and destructive but also warm. So, so warm and beautiful, in his own strange way.

It’s not my fault, I’m not to blame.

“Do you wanna kiss again?” Remus teased, but his words held an ounce of sincerity under the surface. “I really like kissing you, Snake Face.”

Remus stood and Deceit followed as if it were second nature. He was completely entranced by whatever spell Remus had him under. They both moved back slowly until Deceit was pressed against the wall with one hand on his chest and the other on his face.

It’s not my fault If in God’s plan

Remus moved in closer, his bangs falling against Deceit’s nose. “Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice rich and deep. Deceit thought he might go weak in the knees.

He made the devil so much stronger than a man.

Deceit nodded and felt as if he might melt when their lips connected. Kissing Remus was its own high. It was all Deceit wanted to do for the rest of his life.

Protect me, Maria Don’t let this siren cast his spell.

Remus moved in closer and electricity ran through their connected bodies as they both moved in closer and closer, destroying every infinitesimal space until it almost felt like they were one. Yet they weren’t one. They were thankful to be two separate bodies since such a separation allowed them to be like this.

Don’t let his fire sear my flesh and bones.

“I love you,” Deceit panted.

Hellfire. Dark fire.

Remus picked up Deceit’s legs in a quick motion and held him against the wall. “Love can wait,” he said, pressing one more heated kiss to Deceit’s lips. “I have other plans for today.”

Deceit gasped but his shock quickly melted into a mischievous smirk. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean. Perhaps you’ll just have to demonstrate.”

God have mercy on him.

They sunk out of the kitchen.

God have mercy on me.

#dukeceit #demus #trash noodle #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #ts deceit #ts remus #the dark sides

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juliabohemian · 4 years

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Shameless Self Promotion

I am getting ready to wrap up a novel length WIP that I started writing in 2017 and started posting in August of 2018. I have an entire second story plotted out that is supposed to follow this one. Which will probably be from Jane’s POV.

This is something I have poured a lot of time and effort into. But admittedly, I am not great at promoting myself. And I am terrible at explaining what the story is about. The description on AO3 doesn’t really explain much.

Instead I am going to post a very short passage from each chapter in the hope of attracting some new readers.

TITLE: In Loco Parentis TIMELINE: Post-Ragnarok. AU after that point. Some similarities to Infinity War, but with different outcomes. Loki survives instead of Thor. CHARACTERS: Loki, Erik Selvig, Steve Rogers, Jane Foster with mentions of Thor, Odin, Frigga, Heimdall, Bruce Banner/Hulk and Stephen Strange. LENGTH: Current length is 105,160 word. 24/26 chapters have been posted. GENRE: Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Intermittent humor, Lots of feels, explorations of father/son dynamic. Second person narrative; Loki’s POV. WARNING: References to violence, torture, terminal illness, and character death.

CHAPTER 1:

Earth keeps careful track of its inhabitants these days. They pay closer attention to some than others, of course. The United States government knows precisely where you are right now, or so they claim. It's distinctly possible that they even know exactly what you're doing. Not that you have anything to hide for once. But you will never get used to to the fact that very little of your life is genuinely private.

CHAPTER 2:

It's evident that the other man is annoyed with you. His words suggest as much. Yet the remark is delivered with unusual tenderness. Unfortunately, your tolerance for pity is somewhat limited. And even if you were in pain, which you are most definitely not, it would be none of his concern.

CHAPTER 3:

You might be stranded on Earth, your home and your family gone forever. But somehow, for some reason, despite all statistical improbability, you're still alive. You're still moving, still breathing. Surely there must be a reason. Because everything has a reason.

CHAPTER 4:

You hate the fact that, for now at least, you appear to be dependent on someone else's kindness. It's not a position you're altogether comfortable with. Because kindness is a limited resource. You know it's only a matter of time before he tires of you. You don't understand why he's bothering to pretend otherwise. You don't know what motivation he could possibly have to tolerate you one second longer than necessary.

CHAPTER 5:

You were convinced that, at any minute, someone would kick down your door and carry you away in chains. Surely after being reminded of the extent of your abilities, Erik would no longer want you in his home. But when you were quiet again, all you heard was Erik knocking. You could not answer. You knew of no words that could hope to mend what you had done.

CHAPTER 6:

While your host imposed no time limit on the arrangement, you never planned to stay long. But days turned into weeks, and months became years. And you kept running out of reasons to leave. Your attempts to test Erik's resolve were so gently diffused, that you ultimately gave up trying to alienate him.

CHAPTER 7:

Your denial served no purpose. Unlike so many lies you had told during your lifetime, this one was innocuous enough. You had learned fairly quickly that there was no point in contesting Erik's delusions. You knew not his reasons. But you had accepted that some part of him needed to believe that you were his son.

CHAPTER 8:

You hate just how relieved you are to have someone to talk to, even if that person is Steve Rogers. And you hate that your instinct is to alienate him. You just can't help yourself.

CHAPTER 9:

Your stomach churns with a fierce assortment of unwelcome emotions. You cannot help wondering whether this is just some random event, or if Erik is making some sort of attempt to say goodbye.

CHAPTER 10:

You stare at the message on the screen for nearly a minute, reading the words over and over again. You try to find a way to be insulted by Steve's offer. But you cannot think of one. And yet, you are still annoyed. Because it is so like Steve to give you the benefit of the doubt by suggesting that you might have dialed in error.

CHAPTER 11:

You have never openly declared Erik to be your father before. You have only ever conceded when others have done so. Not only is it a lie, it feels like something you have no right to say.

CHAPTER 12:

You want her to leave. Yet, for some reason, she seems to believe that you genuinely require her assistance. You think perhaps you need only convince her that you are not completely helpless. And thus, her intervention is not required. Then, surely she will be on her way.

CHAPTER 13:

You frown immediately at your use of the phrase big deal, which you cannot remember ever using before now. You know not the origin of the phrase. It's something that Erik would say. In your mind, you can picture his face...that reassuring smile he would give you whenever you were convinced that you somehow managed to ruin absolutely everything, yet again. Hey...it's not a big deal.

CHAPTER 14:

You chuckle, nervously. You are practically pinned up against the counter, now. You could effortlessly shove her to the floor and leave the room. As annoying as she is, you have no desire to do her harm. After all, it's not her fault that you're a complete lunatic.

CHAPTER 15:

Throughout your life you have been many things. But you have never been slovenly or lazy, and certainly never uncleanly. And yet, you are confident that you would have been content to starve and wallow in your own filth, had Jane not come along and intervened.

CHAPTER 16:

You know that you should probably take a few minutes to compose yourself before confronting Jane. But, naturally, you don't. As annoyed as you are, there's a small part of you that is pleased to have reason to be angry. The fury that you were longing for earlier is finally here. Now you need only embrace it and see where it takes you.

CHAPTER 17:

Deep down, you know that you don't actually want to escape. And not just because you have nowhere in particular to go. You have a life here, albeit a limited one. You have a place that you think of as home, a place that you want to return to. Perhaps not every bridge you cross needs to be left burning in your wake.

CHAPTER 18:

What Jane doesn't know is that, somewhere deep in your most private thoughts, you envisioned yourself making Erik better. You fantasized about it, even. For by healing him, you would be offering him something that might actually be worthy of praise.

CHAPTER 19:

The conversation is becoming far more serious than you would like. You are now relieved that you are intoxicated. He appears to be seeking some sort of validation. Though you seriously doubt he wants or needs yours.

CHAPTER 20:

The irony of your situation is not lost on you. As you are currently playing nursemaid to an ailing Midgardian...a member of a species you were raised to view as grossly inferior. And you don't regret it. Not at all. But you wonder what Thor might think, if he could see you now. Whether he would this consider your actions to be admirable, or he would regard you as a fool.

CHAPTER 21:

The unmistakable hint of fear in Erik's eyes would likely go undetected by the casual observer. It is almost as though some part of him is genuinely worried about your reaction. You recall, all too clearly, that night you found him collapsed on the floor beside his bed, his tears of shame, how he couldn't even look at you. Whatever this is, however inconvenient, it is definitely outside of his control. Thus, do your best to conceal your frustration.

CHAPTER 22:

Various scenes unfold before you. Through the kitchen window, Erik watches you working in the garage. He admires your focus, your meticulous attention to detail. Erik looks in on you, after hearing you cry out in your sleep. Erik returns home, after a long day working at the university, and the two of you share a meal together. Such events would be considered, by most, entirely benign. Yet, you find it unbearable to look upon yourself this way, painful even.

CHAPTER 23:

You are exhausted and can no longer continue. The soil beneath your feet is soft and moist. When you drop to the ground, you rest on your knees and your hands end up planted deeply in the wet earth.

CHAPTER 24:

You wake periodically, throughout the day. Random people enter your room, constantly. Thankfully, they never stay for long. Whenever you open your eyes, you find yourself checking to make sure that Erik is still there. And whenever he catches you looking at him, he touches you, as if to further reassure you of his presence.

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themodernbabymommablog · 4 years

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Blog Post #5: 9 October 2020-Again

Hello mama’s, internet, and people alike,

I know I’ve already made a blog post today (it was all about how shitty pregnancy can feel which the world seems to never talk about); but, I just finished reading How to Murder Your Life by Cat Marnell and I am absolutely BUZZING. I couldn’t put it down. That girls life has been M E S S E D U P to say the least. I admire her honesty and raw storytelling approach to sharing her struggles with addiction. And she does it so unapologetically! Ugh she almost makes her trainwreck of a life glamorous, even though that’s definitively not my style (but it’s her style and that’s the point). She talks about her drugged up party nights, abusive men, low self esteem, eating disorder (bulimia), and overall self-destructive life. She talks about how she murdered her life (the book title is fitting, trust me). Now you may be wondering, why is this 23 year old seemingly happy pregnant lady so in love with the memoir of a drug-addicted beauty fashion editor? Well, my dear friends, because of my struggles with addiction, self-harm, and eating disorder (also bulimia, surprise!)

Gasp.

No! Not you! Did the tattoo’s and face piercings give it away? Sigh.

Yes as much as I would love to keep on pretending that what I went through wasn’t a serious addiction, I can’t. What was I addicted to? Not quite sure I’m ready to share that just yet my friends (I’m sorry) but I will share this: I liked anything and everything that made me feel like a different person and out of my skin. I was so disgustingly self-conscious, I hated everything about myself. I looked in the mirror 20,000 times a day, and anytime I left the house I had full makeup and hair done in order to trick everyone else into thinking that I’m attractive. No matter what I did, I ALWAYS thought about what people must think when they look at me, anytime I was out (I’m a Libra, what can I say?). Ugh. Yuck. I’ve never shared this with anyone really. God this phase of my life is heartbreaking.

Thankfully I am clean and planning on staying that way, I owe that to myself and I especially owe that to my daughter and my partner. No drug is worth losing them, they are the best things that have ever happened to me and no words can justify the love I have for them.

I still struggle though, with the memories and regrets from decisions I’ve made while intoxicated and incoherent. Guilt and disgust for the things I let men do to me, to my body, to my soul. How disappointed my parents would be if they knew the mistakes I’ve made, how I’ve struggled despite how much they have given me. Sometimes I struggle with how I could possibly deserve this life. The family I’m about to have, my parents, my sisters, my blessings. I will never know but I swear to you that for the rest of my life I will never stop trying to give back to the people I love and the people I have yet to meet in order to try and spread all the love and support I have been given my entire life.

Addiction is a funny thing, and it’s something I wasn’t sure that I would talk about on here. This page is about my pregnancy, family, love, and life, and that’s why reading Cat’s memoir has inspired me to be honest about my life. Sure there’s lots of beauty and blessings and positivity, but I would feel like a liar, a fraud, if I didn’t let you guys know my struggles and every part of me. If you are a baby mama like me, I hope I haven’t scared you off. I know I’m not perfect. I’m not married to my baby’s father, we weren’t planning a pregnancy, it’s taken me 6 years to do a Bachelor’s degree, and honestly, I have a lot of split ends. I’ve struggled with addiction to drugs, to harming my body, and I’ve hurt people along the way. If I’m going to share my thoughts on here, I just want you guys to know who I really am. I am not perfect, my life is not perfect, and I don’t want to pretend that it is. I want my focus to still be sharing about baby and my motherhood journey, but I want to also share stories about my life before motherhood.

I have made mistakes, and I will continue to make many more I am sure. To anyone that reads these posts, thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to read my thoughts and connect with me.

I love you,

From this baby mama and her babe,

Namaste.

#pregnant #pregnancy #third trimester #7months #baby #first baby #FirstTimeMom #mom #soontobemommy #mommyblog #family #love #growth #addicition #selfharm #sobriety #hope #blogger #recovery #mommy

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punkpoemprose · 5 years

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The Love Talker- Chapter 1

Universe: Gancanagh/ Fae AU Rating: T (currently, expect M in time) Length: 2580

TW (for all chapters): Curses, Suicide, Murder, Dub Con (technically but not really)

A/N:Was this supposed to be a oneshot for KA Week where I was writing monster AUs? Yes. Did I do that? No. Of course I didn’t. I’m me. So here’s what you need to know if you don’t have the background knowledge: Gancanagh (Ghan-canna) are male fae from Irish legend who can addict humans (usually human women) to them with a single skin to skin touch. Addicted humans, once out of the presence of these fae, lose their minds and can kill themselves. This fic is going to be quite dark. It’s highly self indulgent because I LOVE this stuff. Blame Melissa Marr.

[Next Chapter]

[Master Post]

She ran. Her slippers were lost among the weeds as she picked up speed, her hair flowing loose around her like a wild thing. Her mother would have been so ashamed. Her sister would be if she were still around, but she didn’t fear their judgement. There was no sense in fearing the dead and the gone when there was something much more real, something more solid, to fear. Someone was trying to kill her.

It hadn’t been a whim when she’d chosen to read her fiancé’s journal. It had been a nagging voice in the back of her head that told her that even though everything was perfect, there was something he wasn’t telling her. Of course, she’d thought that it was going to be something not so terrifying, like that he had a gambling habit or some sort of secret hobby he didn’t want her to know about.

She hadn’t expected to see a list of women, deceased women, numbered down the page, the numbers corresponded to a ledger, each woman tied to two separate amounts, a dowry and an inheritance. Despite her seemingly miraculous ability to misjudge the intentions of people in her life she wasn’t stupid. When she saw her name and two blank spaces for what she was going to be worth wed and dead she’d taken off as fast as she could.

She couldn’t bring the book to the lawman in town, not when she knew that he was known to frequently share a pint with Hans, her evidently serial murdering fiancé. Either he’d brush her off, or he’d be in on it, and she was terrified about what that meant for her in any case. So she’d taken off into the woods with the book and little else. He’d be after her soon, she was certain of that much. She didn’t have much of a plan, but the woods were safer than the village and if she was lucky enough to not be eaten by wolves as she crossed the way, she might be able to make it to the closest town within a few days.

She wished she would have had the thought to bring her horse. She wished that she had worn her boots, her slippers already lost to her, and adrenaline carrying her past them. She wished that she had brought something to eat. The journey to the closest town was two days on foot, and she simply had to hope that he wouldn’t be bright enough to set out on horse to get there first and tell the sheriff there that she’d lost her mind.

Tears streaked down her face, her chest ached, and her sides were cramping. She’d already been running for a fair distance, but it didn’t feel safe to stop yet. She was strong, she’d always been, but this taxed her more than anything she’d ever attempted before. She wished that she’d never met Hans at all while she was making impossible wishes.

When she started to cough, her overexertion catching up with her in a way that made her guts wretch, she stopped. She had no idea where she was, but she knew that if she didn’t know where she was, Hans certainly wouldn’t. She’d grown up on the edges of the forest. Her parents had been well off and her nannies had kept her out of its clutches for most of her early life, but she had spent far more time in it than Hans had. She knew it’s landscape for the most part, and she knew its stories.

Hans had come to the village when Elsa was preparing to leave for the city. Someone had to take care of the family trading company, and with Mama and Papa gone, unable to make the week long trip back and forth between their quiet village and the port city where their empire had been built, Elsa had decided it best to move there herself. Anna was supposed to join her after not too long, but when Hans had come to town, all charming and debonair, she’d thought that for the first time in forever she’d not feel so isolated and alone.

Her vision streaked a bit as she tried to breathe in and out. Hyperventilating and passing out would do her no favors here. She hadn’t run from a murderer just to die in the woods.

“What are you running from in such a rush?”

A chill ran up her spine as Anna turned towards the voice. It wasn’t familiar, which was far more of a comfort than it ought to be, but her heart still was in her throat as she saw that she wasn’t alone.

Sitting on a stump just a bit behind her was a man smoking a pipe. His face was obscured by the brim of his hat and by the distance between them. His voice was level and calm, a bit curious, but not demanding. She clutched the book in her hands.

“Who says I’m running from something?” she asked I return, panting as she did so, “I could be running towards something.”

He nodded and she knew that although she couldn’t get a good look at him from where she was standing, he was certainly watching her. The smoke from his pipe trailed off in the opposite direction, carried by the lightest of breezes the likewise shook the leaves from the autumn trees. It served to bring her attention to him even more so, with everything moving away from him, he became the focus of her vision.

He chuckled. It was a rich warm sound, cheerful, liked she’d pleased him with her response.

“Well then, what are you running towards?”

She huffed out a breath, her lungs finally seeming to be able to take air in and out somewhat normally.

“Safety,” she answered honestly.

Her mother had told her to never talk to strangers, but there was something about the wat he was sitting, relaxed, low, like he wasn’t going anywhere. It was comforting, like his chuckle, like his voice.

He hummed in return, as if he’d somehow suspected as much.

“Well before you run to safety, maybe share why you’re running?”

He sat up and set down his pipe on the stump next to him. She hadn’t noticed that it had stopped smoking, which seemed odd, but when he looked up, she stopped thinking about it so much.

He was handsome. Not in the sort of devilish, posh way that Hans was, but in the strong, natural way that the forest made men. He looked like the sort of man who might busy himself with chopping wood or tending to horses when he wasn’t sitting on a stump.

She approached him, he had broad shoulders, he wore a flannel frock coat which accentuated this and as she drew closer, she saw that under the brim of his hat he had a mess of blonde hair and deep brown eyes.

As she approached, he stood and reached his hand out to her, and she reached out in kind.

He frowned then, and he pulled his hand away quickly.

“You’re much too trusting.”

Anna blinked, confused, but then looked down at her feet. There were mushrooms at her toes, a ring of them around the stump. She knew the stories of the woods, the rules to follow that she’d been told in her childhood tales, and so she took a step back, confused and a bit frightened.

He gave her a wry smile when she looked back up at him, but his eyes showed something like disappointment. It didn’t make any sense. He’d almost had her, and then he’d pulled away.

She choked down her horror and realized that he was giving her an expectant look.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

He nodded and sat back on his stump, regarding her from a safe distance. She knew that the space was for her benefit, not his. She had no iron, no salt, no silver on her person. She couldn’t hurt him, but if he was fae, which all signs pointed to, he could hurt her in hundreds of ways without putting much effort in.

“So trusting girl, why are you running to safety?”

She felt a lump form in her throat as she thought about her answer. Displeasing him probably wasn’t a good idea. He’d shown restraint, but she wasn’t sure if she could run fast enough that he couldn’t do anything to hurt her. She had the oddest sense that he wouldn’t try to at any rate, but still, she knew it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Would telling you be a wise decision?” she asked in return, her mind rushing through everything she knew about faeries. They were tricky, powerful creatures. They couldn’t tell a lie, but they would tell you the truth in deceitful ways. Faeries double talked and stole children, they tortured men and women for the momentary joy it gave them in their endless lives, they were not to be trusted.

He grinned again, looking pleased. “Trusting but not entirely foolish then. I won’t insult you. Yes, telling me would be wise because I mean you no harm.”

Maybe it was the sudden softness of his expression, or the way he said it so meaningfully, but she believed him. She was trusting, too trusting. He might still kill her, so she asked him for clarification.

“You mean me no harm, or you will do no harm to me? You can do something to harm someone without meaning to.”

The wind shifted. There was a sweetness on the breeze, like spiced wine and tobacco. It was intoxicating. It was him.

“I will do you no harm. You have my word…” he paused, looking at her expectantly. He was asking for her name.

She shook her head. Names had power. She remembered that much at least for certain. The rest of the rules were somewhat foggy with age, but the most important ones were there. Faeries can’t lie, but they’re tricky. If you step into a faerie ring you can become trapped there if the faerie it belonged to caught you. Eating faerie food binds you to them. Names give power both ways, so never give yours away.

She thought for a moment about what he could call her. She’d never had a nickname or something that wasn’t a direct attachment to her. Hans had called her many names, “pet”, “lamb”, “darling”, but they all left a bad taste in her mouth now. She settled on the first name she could come up with.

“You may call me Kjekk.”

He laughed, “Handsome?”

It was her horse’s name. It was Norwegian, her father’s native language. She spoke some, but not as much as she would have liked. Elsa was the better speaker.

His laugh was warm, and she felt the strange desire, despite all logic, to step back up to the edge of the ring. He was drawing her in, but she stood her ground.

“Du snakker norsk?” It was a simple question, if he could answer it at all it meant that he was answering affirmatively.

He grinned, “Some. You are a handsome woman.”

Her cheeks flushed despite her best intentions. He was being very plain spoken for what she had been told to expect, and she secretly appreciated it.

“I won’t hurt you Kjekk,” he continued, “And I would like it if you told me why you’re running. You don’t have to tell me, but I’m interested to know.”

She nodded at that. It was all she needed to know at the moment really, she just had one question left before she told him.

“May I have your name?”

“You’re trickier than I gave you credit for Kjekk,” he said, picking up his pipe which was smoking once more, but only lightly, as if it were still deciding whether or not it wanted to be used. “You may call me Gancanagh. I won’t give you my name, but you may call me that which I am.”

“Gancanagh,” she breathed. It made a terrifying amount of sense, “love talker.”

It wasn’t Norwegian. It was Irish. She’d had an Irish nanny once when she was eleven, and she’d told her the tales of the woods that hailed from her native home and land. Gancanagh were seducers. They brought humans, particularly women, into their rings and kept them there, spoke sweet words to them, and did all sorts of things her nanny had refused to explain until they tired of them. It seemed on the surface like something almost harmless for a faerie to do given the other things their various types were known for, but the sinister aspect was there, hidden. Gancanaghs are addictive to humans. For a person to touch a Gancanagh and go too long without their touch again would drive them mad, would drive them to suicide.

She stumbled back and fell unceremoniously on the ground; she’d almost touched him. She still wanted to.

He hadn’t touched her though. Why she couldn’t imagine. Maybe he had his current fill of mortal women to torture sweetly, or maybe she wasn’t the sort of woman he wanted. She wasn’t sure, maybe he had simply allowed her to be untouched on a whim.

“I won’t hurt you Kjekk,” he repeated, “I’m impressed you understand. Now that I’ve been honest with you, will you be honest with me?”

She shook her head and scrambled to stand back up. Her heart was racing and her head was a mess of conflicting interests. She wanted to run and she wanted to stay. He promised not to hurt her, but what was his definition of hurt? Was her killing herself in the future as a consequence of his whims something he counted as him harming her? Should she tell him that she’d already left worse than that behind?

“My fiancé is planning to murder me.”

The words escaped her mouth frantically. It wasn’t because of anything he’d done. He was attractive to her, on the surface trustworthy, but he held no power over her. She gave him the information nervously, but of her own free will.

His face went dark, and he set the pipe down once more. The wind shifted again and a cold breeze hit her back as leaves dropped from the trees more rapidly than before.

“The book you’re holding, is that the proof? May I see it?”

She clutched it tightly.

“Will you return it to me?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Will you return it to me promptly Gancanagh… and I mean once you’ve seen why I’m carrying it… and will you take it and return it without touching me?”

He nodded, the darkness not leaving his expression. He was angry, not at her though, of that much she was certain. In his dark eyes there was still something gentle when he looked upon her. It wasn’t pity, it was understanding.

“I swear it.”

Cautiously, step by step, she approached the circle and stuck only the corner of the book into the circle. He took it from her slowly, to his credit, and did not reach out to touch her. He played no tricks, but instead began to flip through and observe what Anna had already seen for herself.

Anna realized a bit too late what she’d done when he said her name.

“Anna Arendelle,” he looked from the book and up to her, “That name suits you.”

#kristannaween #kristanna fanfic #gancanagh au #fae au #dark fic

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ellaenchanting · 4 years

Text

Hypnovember Day 29: Doctor

*deep sigh*

10th doctor/Simm!Master

No, I will not apologize. :P Some background music if you like.

The message had said very little. "Meet me on Alphacentari XI on Nov 29 2019 at 1pm GST, timeline 6."

Well, of course timeline 6, the Doctor thought to himself. He wasn't about to find a timeline portal and potentially even regenerate himself as a shrimp based on one cryptic message.

A honing address followed.

There were only a few beings who knew to be that specific- and less who The Doctor was on entirely good terms with.

He waited a few days until Donna was off the ship visiting family. Then he decided to follow up on the message. Something about it felt very familiar. He decided to proceed with caution.

When The Doctor got to the address (a house, it turned out), there was a small box with a large red button on it in a basket outside the door.

Even stranger- a note that said "Pick Me Up and Bring Me Inside".

Stranger still- the note was in Gallifreyan.

To the Doctor's knowledge, there was only one being alive who could write that note. And technically, he wasn't supposed to be alive anymore (although, to be fair, the Doctor was hardly surprised about that part at this point).

The Doctor looked at the box. He smelled it. He scanned it with his Sonic screwdriver. ("Remote control to neural dampener-advanced" it read. Curious.)

This was clearly a trap.

Fortunately, the Doctor was brilliant at traps. He picked up the button-on-a-box and walked inside the room.

As predicted, the Master was standing there. He had the same body as when the Doctor had last seen him, only this time he was wearing a electric collar around his neck. Neural dampener, the Doctor thought. Curious. It appeared to be inactive.

"Master!" exclaimed the Doctor. "Why did you call me here?"

"Look at me" the Master replied, a hard-to-read expression on his face.

The Doctor looked at him. No obvious injuries. Some tachyon particles but that was to be expected. Suit early 21st century Earth- stylish. What was he supposed to...?

The Master sighed. "NO, Doctor. LOOK at me." He tilted his head to the side as if exposing it.

What was his plan? This felt like a trap, but he had given the Doctor some leverage with the dampener. He obviously wanted him to trust him. And- sharing your mind with another Timelord was certainly an act of trust and intimacy. The Doctor hadn't experienced that since....

Well, it had been a long time.

The Doctor quickly shut some doors in his own mind to hide potentially damaging information. Then, he placed two of his fingers on the Master's temple and closed his eyes. The Master closed his eyes as well.

The doors in the Master's mind all appeared to be open. The Doctor quickly scanned for malicious intent but-

Oh.

Oh my.

So that's why.

The Doctor had to admit, it had been far too long. And he had missed this as well.

He sent a mental affirmation.

Then he stepped back, keeping the psychic link intact.

"Master," he resumed. "Why have you called me here? What kind of evil scheme could you be plotting?" He hoped that wasn't too over the top. It felt appropriately Doctor-y.

The Master smiled one of his wicked conniving (and devastatingly sexy the Doctor thought) smiles. "Ah. my dear Doctor!” he exclaimed. "How good it is to see you again! And how kind of you to fall into my little trap!" He quickly sent some reassurance over the link.

“Your...trap? asked the Doctor, defiantly. “Shall I refresh you on how many millennia it has been since you’ve successfully trapped me?”

The Master smirked and advanced toward him. “Oh? Then I guess I shouldn’t tell you about Rose then? How long has it been since you’ve checked in on her?”

The Master had done his homework. No surprise there either, the anorak. He must be aware that Rose was currently trapped in an alternate dimension.

The Doctor walked forward to meet the Master, his tone becoming angrier. “What have you done with Rose?”

The Master sent him a quick burst of glee in response to this menace. With his actual voice, the Master replied nonchalantly. “Nothing Doctor.” His smile widened. “Well...nothing yet. “

The Doctor grabbed him by his lapels. He spoke in his most dangerous tone. “Now you listen to me and listen well, Master. If you harm a hair on Rose’s head, you will understand why beings across the galaxy tremble when they hear my name. Now TELL me WHERE! SHE! IS!”

The Master shivered. His mouth mouth gasped open and he looked briefly like he was going to lean over and kiss The Doctor. But- no, not yet. He took a breath to collect himself and stepped back for a moment. Then he continued. “She’s on earth- at a location and time of my choosing. And she will be fine, Doctor- as long as you do what I say.”

The Doctor glowered. “What do you want, Master?” He spat out the name contemptuously.

The Master was practically vibrating with excitement. “What I want, dear Doctor, is to do some research. See, recently I learned of a Sontarian scheme to use this” he held up a ray-gun like object “to control me. The schemers seemed unusually confident that they could use this Mind Manipulator to ensorcell me, They said they had found a way to make it work on Time Lords. So naturally” he pointed the gun at the Doctor “I want to test and see if that is true.”

This was a patently ridiculous lie- there was no way a Mind Manipulator would work on any being stronger-willed than a human. Even some humans could probably resist it. But still...

“And if I refuse?” asked the Doctor.

The Master cocked his head to the side. “Oh Doctor. There’s no option for refusal. Either you let me test it willingly OR I kill your Rose-bud and test it on you unwillingly. Your compliance would be appreciated but it certainly is not required. Besides,” he moved forward again. “Don’t you want to see if you can resist? What a brave, ongoing storm of a Timelord you are?”

Mmmm this old game. The Doctor loved this game. Of course he knew that he could resist the machine but- that didn’t mean he had to. He quickly separated his internal self into two- a part for the scene and a part observing.

‘Fine,” he said. “Test it on me. Do your worst. I think we both know what the end result will be.” (In that instant, the Doctor and the Master mentally exchanged some very dirty mental images. The Doctor wasn’t even sure a humanoid body could do that. )

“Very well, DOCTOR” The Master snarled. He turned the machine on and directed it at the Doctor. It made a soft buzzing noise.It also had soft, circular lights kind of like a spiral.

As expected, the Doctor felt a light tug on his thoughts. He could have dismissed it in an instant but- that’s not why they were here. He concentrated on the sensation, trying to visualize the machine’s effects working deeper and deeper into his brain, tugging more and more. He could feel the Master deep inside as well, also pulling. He let himself lean into that sensation.

“Yes Doctor,” laughed the Master maniacally. ”It’s not so easy to resist the Mind Manipulator, is it Doctor? I can already tell how much more difficult it is for you to try. Soon you’ll exhaust yourself and be completely under my power” He sent another wave of his influence into the part of the Doctor’s mind that was roleplaying, encouraging any succumbing sensations he found there.

The Doctor gritted his teeth. “No, I’ll never let you win!” He played a strange mental balancing act where he both fought and gave into the Master’s power. It had been some time and he was surprised he was still so adept at this. It was thrilling. He hadn’t found anyone who could actually control him in reality, but it was exciting to experience those feelings even like this. It reminded him a lot of how he and Koschei used to play when they were in school.

The Master sent Doctor images of what he looked like as he was struggling, letting him feast on his own seeming helplessness.

It worked. The Doctor delighted to find that he was succumbing more and more. He could also feel the Master pushing further into his head, relishing his own feelings of dominance and power. It was intoxicating to feel both powerless and powerful, entirely in control and taken over at the same time. He projected his growing feelings of weakness back to the Master.

Another push followed. “Oh Doctor! You must be so tired- every part of you aching to give in. Let me help you. Say ‘You are my Master, and I must obey you’ Say it and succumb!”

The Doctor whipped his head left and right, as if struggling to try and resist the beam. The heady push of the Master’s influence thrust further into his mind. He felt like he was being taken. Yes. “You are..” he felt his mouth begin. Then he rallied. “No! No you can’t control me!”

The Master widened his eyes with a hypnotic glare. The Doctor could feel him push even more. “I AM your Master and you will obey me!”

Oh, the Doctor loved this part. “No!” he cried desperately. “No you can’t make me!” He looked down, trembling.

“You’re so weak now Doctor. Listen again.” He grabbed the Doctor by his head, forcing him to look deep into his eyes. “I AM YOUR MASTER AND YOU WILL OBEY ME. I AM YOUR MASTER AND YOU..”

The Master repeated this over and over again. The Doctor felt himself starting to break (while simultaneously feeling the Master’s glee and arousal at the sight). He tried not to move his mouth but it was useless. “No! No! No! You.....ahhh!...You....Yu...YOU ARE MY MASTER AND I WILL OBEY YOU!”

The Master laughed triumphantly. “AGAIN! I AM YOUR MASTER AND YOU WILL OBEY ME!”

The Doctor had broken, there was no resistance left. “YOU ARE MY MASTER AND I WILL OBEY YOU!” The Master sent him a wave of praise and a picture of how utterly debauched he looked. Fuck, he hadn’t even noticed his mouth was hanging open like that.

“Again!” said the Master, lording it over him.

“You are my Master and I will obey you.” The Doctor bowed his head, humbled.

“EXCELLENT, Doctor” said the Master. “Now KNEEL!”

The Doctor felt himself kneel. Knowing the Master’s preferences, he put his hands behind his back. He looked up again.

The Master walked around and inspected him, one hand brushing through his hair. The Doctor leaned into that hand. It felt really good to be touched in this way.

“Now Doctor,” the Master monologued, “I haven’t really gotten to play with this body yet. It seems to have some...interesting possibilities. Tell me about it.”

The Doctor nodded obediently. “This body is very orally fixated.This body is more ticklish than previous regenerations. This body responds well to pain.”

The Master quirked his eyebrow, both bodily and with a teasing feeling in the Doctor’s own mind.

“Oh? Well then- Doctor,” he started. “Let’s see what this body can do.” He pulled out his laser screwdriver.

The Doctor felt his hearts leap in anticipation.

It was good to have the Master back.

(Thanks to @jukeboxemcsa, @brainbound , @undersleeper , @wellgnawed, @pirate-king-of-trance, @daja-the-hypnokitten and others for the Dr Who trivia help!)

Tagging @hypno-sandwich and @zanydanger as Whovians. And apologies to the Whovians I missed!

#Hypnovember #Doctor #Doctor/Master slash #m/m #The Doctor and the Master role-play being the Doctor and the Master #silliness #I'm sorry I'm so sorry #day 29 y'all!#100 percent headcanon now btw

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honeybee-babe · 5 years

Note

How can you excuse all of the abusive things Luther has done to his siblings (especially Klaus) throughout the series? And don't pull the "he was drunk" card. And without implying that Luther locking up Vanya isn't intentionally cruel or intended to hurt her? He has the ability to think logically, unlike Vanya he isn't experiencing a literal psychotic break down.... Please, explain this to me logically. Thanks.

~ wowowowowowow i clenched my jaw all night thinking about this ask~~

Yikes. You’re not asking me why I “excuse his actions” (I don’t), you’re asking why I see him as a human being with flaws and trauma which need to be addressed rather than the literal devil. And why I don’t think he is irredeemable based on a few terrible choices (when he has also made some great ones and showed affection for his siblings in the past). I honestly think people hate Luther because it’s easier to have clearly good characters and clearly bad characters, even in a show that actively and artfully avoids that dichotomy.

Why do you care that I like Luther? I’m not bashing your faves or causing any harm to you? I am not trying to tell you to like him or convince you he is a great character. I know he has flaws.

But if you really want to know how I “excuse all his actions” (which…. I don’t?), I’ll humor you, but I’m answering the question you’re really asking:

Why Do You Not Despise Luther?:

This response is really longwinded but THIS QUESTION IS REALLY OVER-SIMPLIFYING(!!!) so I feel it’s warranted.

First, I’m gonna address the “abusive things Luther has done to his siblings throughout the series:”

I am not excusing any of the things Luther “does to his siblings,” I’m just saying we should extend the same amount of courtesy to him in sympathizing with him and understanding the motive behind his actions (just like we all do with Vanya). And also consider the fact that he is deeply traumatized and has literally been gaslit his entire life into thinking he has to follow a specific model that was set out for him as “leader.” Literally he has been taught that he is nothing without the UA and being a leader, and I don’t think people release how damaging that is to a person?

But also hot take: I don’t think Luther is abusive towards his siblings at all? Not until the last two episodes for sure. I think he is insensitive towards others’ emotions at times, but he is never cruel just for the sake of being cruel. I honestly think Luther is incapable of picking up on emotional cues to some extent.

I’m re-watching right now, I just finished episode 7 and I have yet to see any signs of him being abusive towards the others, and not Klaus specifically? The choking scene was vile and physically violent but I don’t think it’s abusive because it was a one time thing and abuse is a cycle. Luther isn’t particularly awful to Klaus, he is just dismissive? The only person he ever is really verbally mean to is Diego when they get into fights and Diego is just as bad if not worse, and also intentionally tries to get an emotional rise out of Luther (which is…. just as awful and cruel?).

But yeah I finished episode 7 and no abuse so far… maybe my dumb ass who was abused for my whole life just doesn’t understand what abuse looks like? Okay that’s kind of a joke but I’m actually being serious, my abuse is pretty similar to Luther’s and my body dysmorphia/eating issues are similar to his too which is a lot of why I resonate with him, so I could be missing signs because I’ve probably acted the same way. So please point out to me where specifically he committed an act of abuse, and not a one time act of violence or simply being dismissive of/not picking up on someone’s emotional needs.

Also I honestly think Luther is just in denial of others’ emotional needs because he is in denial of his own emotional needs. He has been taught to push everything down, including the needs of others, with the only goal being completing the mission, and protecting everyone/leading everyone to safety. Also I mean, he hasn’t been around human beings for 4 years (so of course he struggles to relate to them/communicate healthily), and he was always taught not to engage with his siblings but just to lead them because that was his role.

Also Klaus and Diego (especially Diego) are just as dismissive of Luther’s trauma? And like yeah Luther covers it up but it’s pretty freaking obvious…pointing out how big he is specifically.

Diego literally sees Luther shirtless after the chandelier falls on him, sees how self-conscious he clearly is, and then never asks about it or checks on him (yet continues to joke about it – also Klaus makes fun of his muscles when he first sees him which is just insensitive). And in the first episode the way Klaus jokes around during the family meeting about cucumber sandwiches when Luther is trying to plan a memorial service; it’s obvious that Luther is grieving and paranoid (and also that he has been manipulated enough to love Reginald!!!) and Klaus is just making jokes and not addressing this? And then they both just ignore his obvious paranoia over Reginald’s death and just call him crazy and walk away? And don’t use the “he was high” excuse for Klaus being a prick (just like I can’t use the ‘he was drunk’ excuse for Luther, which I never did once btw, y’all just want more justification 2 hate on him).

Also: Yes, Luther tells Diego to stop talking shit about Reginald at the memorial service but like, from his perspective, that is someone bashing the person he was closest to AT HIS FUNERAL!!! He starts the fight with Diego but only after Diego provoked him, clearly intentionally, and Diego continues to fight him and throws a fucking knife at his arm (but physical violence is only not okay when Luther uses it right?).

Also HUGE THING Y'ALL ARE IGNORING: Klaus finds out Luther had nonconsensual sex while drugged out of his mind and congratulates him………. uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh idk about you but I think Klaus has been around the block when it comes to drugs and sex (and consent) and should realize that someone on drugs for the first time losing their virginity is nonconsensual, or even if considered consensual still pretty icky? Like Luther is clearly ashamed and upset and doesn’t want to talk about it and Klaus just laughs abt it. That is so not cool.

And another thing:

Luther is very, very protective of Five which is so so sweet, yet people just completely overlook it because they only want to see the bad things he’s done. When he and Allison run into him in the hallway at the end of Run Boy Run and see him looking distressed Luther asks him in a soft voice, “Are you okay? Can we help?” and reaches out to touch Five’s face. Five grabs his hand to stop him but this was very sweet? Like it’s clear Luther has a soft spot for him because he’s small.

But Diego? After he finds out about Patch he bursts into his apartment and goes to attack Five; Luther has to pick him up to restrain him from beating up their brother who has the body of a 13 year old. All because he blames him for the death of the love of his life (just like Luther is afraid of Vanya after she killed Allison). But in Diego’s case, Patch is already dead; Diego only wants to hurt Five out of vengeance, not because he’s trying to protect Patch. And he doesn’t apologize or anything after????? It’s just never brought up again!

SO IN TERMS OF LUTHER BEING AWFUL TO KLAUS THE WHOLE SEASON: is he? is he really? is he really abusive? and is he really that much worse than his other siblings?

And now I’ll address this nonsense:

“And without implying that Luther locking up Vanya isn’t intentionally cruel or intended to hurt her? He has the ability to think logically, unlike Vanya he isn’t experiencing a literal psychotic break down…. Please, explain this to me logically. Thanks.“

…….sigh.

Luther is absolutely not being intentionally cruel or doing this to “punish” Vanya, he’s doing this because he’s freaking the fuck out and doesn’t have any idea what she might do. Yes it’s a bad idea but we need to keep in mind that he’s not thinking logically, he is emotionally distressed. Yes he could talk to her but Allison had just tried to do that…. and look where the fuck that got her?

Do you seriously believe Luther was mentally stable and thinking logically in this moment? Do you not realize he was literally going through a breakdown and identity crisis of his own?

He just found out maybe two days ago that his entire life was a lie and the person whose approval he sought the most didn’t give a shit about him, found out he was isolated from humanity for no reason (which….. as if being isolated in itself wasn’t traumatic enough), after he was mutilated against his will, and now he has just witnessed the person he loves most almost die and he couldn’t do anything about it. Luther is experiencing a breakdown and I think a big part of it is control: he realizes he’s had no agency his whole life/has never had control, he just lost control/agency over his body on drugs even more and had nonconsensual sex while intoxicated, and then after this he sees Allison dying and he can’t do anything to help her (he can’t even give his blood)!!!! His superstrength and locking up Vanya is the only thing he has control over, he feels it’s all he can do to prevent the apocalypse/protect everyone.

Not only that but the idea of control as contol over powers: Luther has super strength, he has to be super careful and controlled all the time so he doesn’t accidentally hurt the people he loves… the thought of someone’s powers being out of control is probably the scariest thing in the world to him. And yes, he gets in fights with Diego but he doesnt use his full strength (just like Diego doesn’t either) because if they did then they would actually hurt each other, they have a lot of control over their powers. But Diego can control his powers by just… not throwing things and having temper tantrums. Luther doesn’t need to be angry to fuck up with his powers, we see that in the very first episode when he punches the model airplane. Luther can never escape his powers and has to constantly control them, and the idea of uncontrolled powers is his worst fucking nightmare.

So Vanya tells him, “we got in an argument and things got out of control” … like just imagine what must be racing through Luther’s mind when he hears that!

Yes what he does in this scene is awful but you can’t convince me he is doing it with the intention of hurting her. Literally you can see in his eyes as he is choking her how pained he is by this. And he apologizes to her: why would he apologize to her if he was trying to hurt her? And if that was intention… why wouldn’t he just fucking kill her?

I absolutely don’t agree with his decision here but like…. he absolutely is going through a mental breakdown and it doesn’t just stop during The Day that Was/Wasn’t and to act like he is completely stable and in his right mind when he locks Vanya up is just grossly oversimplifying everything!

Y’all demonizes him over this but completely overlook some of the awful things his siblings have done (Diego going to beat up Five because he blames him for Patch’s death, Vanya killing a ton of random people because she was locked up)…. Like yes: Luther is insensitive, dismissive, and cruel in this scene but it is not his intention to be cruel, it’s obviously his intention to control Vanya’s out-of-control powers, protect his siblings (esp. Allison), and prevent her from causing the apocalypse. It is awful and yes it is cruel but to act like he just doesn’t give a shit about Vanya and/or is doing it just to hurt her is just….. so beyond what the show is portraying.

And I get that you guys really despise him for this, and if you’re going to hate him, fine: but you completely overlook the terrible things all the other siblings do throughout the whole series and write Luther off as evil, which is not cool. Seriously, y’all portray Luther as the literal devil just so that your faves seem like infallible angels and your headcanons and fanfictions seem nicer and more simple………. and honestly I just can’t reason with you. I think some people just hate on Luther and love everyone else because his abuse situation is more complex and they’re just… literally too lazy to do the mental math, so they stick with stanning everyone else whose trauma is more obvious? Even though Luther covering up his trauma (literally) and refusing to talk about/deal with it is a huge plot point in the show, y’all perceive this as him just not having any trauma, or just overook how his trauma affects his actions.

This show isn’t supposed to be “everyone in the family are wonderful, perfect victims and deals with their trauma like angels EXCEPT LUTHER HE IS STOOPID AND EVIL AND ALSO HIS TRAUMA ISN’T DEEP ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!”…… and if you think this then I think you need to do some soul searching? Or actually do some research into abuse and learn that it comes in many different forms and has many different effects?

Again: I don’t dislike any of the siblings. I used them as examples but I love Diego, Klaus and Vanya!!! I respect and understand them all and view them all as troubled souls who are trying.

This show is complex and it’s designed to be uncomfy, and if you simply write it off as having clear victims and villains (except Reginald, he a dick) then you are not respecting the writing or giving the show justice.

Gerard Way says he wrote Luther based on his own experience of body dysmorphia, isolation….. the show designers say he has self-harmed before, and Tom Hopper has said Luther has been suicidal in the past…. but you know what, go on portraying his trauma as “having it easy” and using violence/cruelty just for fun, even though the show clearly portrays him as a broken man.

#umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #luther hargreeves defense squad #luther hargreeves protection squad #luther positivity #vanya hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves

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glitterecs · 4 years

Text

Apologies for the lengthy absence......ON TO THE FAVS!!!

Latibule by thelesserneptune

Louis had worked in the infamous resort placed in the median point of all worlds for longer than he could remember. He went through everyday with a soul-crushing emptiness filling his mind, going through the same routine over and over again. Despite all the happenings around him, his soul never wavered, his emotions stayed superficial, and nothing took his breath away anymore.

Nothing, except the intoxicating smell of lavender and the contemplating green eyes that came along for the ride every now and again. His heart always seemed to wake up full force whenever those pretty lips formed around even prettier, yet empty promises, and he felt the magic sizzle in his bones again only when contact was made between the divine body and his own deceivingly normal one. He hated it for the fact he really didn’t.

Or : A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.

Spirited Away AU/ British God Harry/ human Louis/ eventual smut at the end/ spanking/ angst/ fluff/ brief mention of self harm (54K)

We’re Driving in Your Fast Car by SadaVeniren

“What’s the matter?” Louis asked, voice serious.

“It was so beautiful, Lou,” Harry whined. “And I had to watch it get driven away.”

A look of realization dawned on Louis’ face and he nodded. “What kind of car was it?”

“A Jaguar E-type. I’d guess series three based off of the frame but I’d need to get a good look to be positive. Lou, it was green. That’s like, my color.”

Louis continued to nod in understanding. “Yes, of course my love. Maybe if we have time tonight we’ll swing back around and get it for you, would you like that?”

Harry felt himself light up - both with excitement and the thrill of getting what he wanted. “Really?”

“Of course, anything for you."

aka Louis and Harry are car thieves about to pull off a million dollar job

Part of FOUR ficfest Collection/ AU/ public blow jobs/ I MAY have been a source for research on the cars for this one (6K)

Down On the Farm by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie) for lululawrence

Harry sets his small cooler on the tailgate of the last truck and slides the top open, pulling out one of Louis’ favorite cider beers and opening it on his belt buckle.

“Thanks,” Louis whispers, pursing his lips and turning to look into the fire so he isn’t caught staring while he adds that to the list of things he never thought he’d find hot before he met Harry.

“Welcome, babe,” Harry says, as if he calls Louis babe on a regular basis. He flips the bottle cap in the air, catches it, and slips it in the tight back pocket of his jeans. “Sorry, I… It slipped out.”

Trying not to frown and hoping no one overhears him, Louis asks, “Did you not mean it?”

“No, I did. Do.” Harry takes off his hat, combing his fingers through his messy curls. He holds his Stetson over his heart and bites his lower lip, eyes darting to Louis’ mouth. “I really like you, Lou. I want… um… I want to like, court you.”

Part of Lululawrence Birthday fics/ Country boy Harry/ City boy Louis/ First time/ blow jobs/ hand jobs/ smut (5K)

Just Like Honey by lululawrence

Louis opened the door and he looked so soft and beautiful. He was in a ratty pair of grey joggers and that was it. Harry had never seen him look so good.

When Harry finally raised his eyes from Louis’ chest, he realised Louis had likely said something.

“Uh,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Smirking a little, Louis crossed his arms and popped his hip. “I said, ‘Hello, Harry. What brings you here so late on a Saturday?’”

Then his brain kicked in.

“Right, fuck. Hi, Louis. I just wanted to give you this.”

Louis’ brows creased as Harry held the honey out to him. Taking the jar from Harry, he said, “Honey?”

Nodding, Harry said, “Yep. Hope you have a great night!”

Fisting his hands at his sides in frustration, Harry left the building as quickly as he could.

Part of Honey series/ AU/ pining/ flirting/friends to lovers/ fluff (3K)

The Games We Play (Lead to Gold) by phdmama

Louis has been excited for ages about Boo-con, Boston's annual October celebration of all things... Well, Louis’s not actually sure what it’s for, actually. It’s an excuse to cosplay, to celebrate all things animated, all things spooky and it’s fun as shit, that’s for sure, and this year. This year, Louis has the best costume he’s ever come up with.

Part of 31 Days of Smut: Cocktoberfest/ Cosplay/ semi-public sex/ Boo-con/ brief side Ziam/ Niall in a flash mob (6K)

#becky likes

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vestigialtext · 4 years

Text

Euphorroria

[TW suicide, self-harm]

Imagine you turn around there’s suddenly a perfectly circular swirling hole open in the floor, emanating a hazy purple glow and a kind of pulsing, reverb-drenched celestial siren song, like the single sickest shoegaze riff you’ve ever heard.

You think, huh, wow, that’s a pretty weird trip-hazard, and erect some cordons to stop anyone falling in. But you become fixated on the hole, staring in unblinking for hours. It’s curious, it’s beautiful, it’s sonically enchanting, it’s perfumed with a kind of partially floral, partially cardomomic, partially metallic scent which just encroaches on the sickly-sweet – but you still want a taste.

The hole, as it happens, is a portal to insanity.

This is how I experience hypomania; standing steady-of-foot behind the barrier, gazing at wonder to the insanity, hearing its call but keeping a safe distance.

Mania would see me leap the barrier, approach too close, and invariably slip in screaming.

Psychosis, meanwhile, would see me fall in, try to either fight it or fuck it, turn it inside out and prolapse it back through into rational reality, the fabric of which world begin to collapse as internal and external landscapes collide and splinter into one and other and I approach self-oblivion.

A full psychotic break has only happened twice in my lifetime, and frankly I’m lucky to be here writing this drivel – my second episode, nearly a decade ago, almost killed me and left me with almost impossible-to-comprehend scars I’ll bear for the rest of my life, scars invisible to the observer but forever altering my perception of the world, scars I’ve made peace with but which continue to niggle every day. Without getting deep into the nightmarish details, I tried – and, thank fuck, failed – to blind myself, resulting in bilateral scarred corneas which mean that, while my vision remains entirely functional and luckily unimpaired to any significant degree, I experience constant, curious aberrations, especially in low-light where the world melts into a sea of halos.

Importantly, I’m still alive. I very nearly leapt into the Thames on the morning of 10/03/2010, and not through depressive, I-can’t-bear-to-live anguish, but due to chasing immensely powerful delusions and hallucinations to the same place that almost cost me my sight. There’s a lot I’ve written and lot I will write about my experiences of psychosis – particularly re the corrupted internal logic that catalysed much of my bizarre, life-ruining behaviour in 2003 and 2010 – but not here, not now.

Mania, the losing control of my inhibitions and tripping headfirst into hyperactive chaos, has occurred three times in my life, but only progressed through to psychosis twice. I had my first (and to date, only quickly-controlled) manic episode age 16, following a few months as an inpatient at an adolescent psychiatric in Newcastle (remember when the NHS used to offer those kind of services lol). Up until that point, I had been being treated for major depression, which was my diagnosis until the mania emerged. I don’t quite remember the specifics – I celebrated the 20th anniversary of my bipolar 1 diagnosis last month – but one day it seems the depressive fog suddenly cleared and my mind, robbed of feel-good shit for so long, lurched as far as it could in the opposite direction as some kind of bizarre compensatory push.

Perhaps the flip was inevitable, perhaps it was triggered by a chemical predisposition to mania plus guzzling down combinations of all the anti-depressant variants that could be feasibly prescribed for the preceding three months. Who can say. Whatever the case, suddenly I was bouncing around the hospital halls like Sonic the Hedgehog, talking borderline-gibberish garbage incessantly, getting back deep into abandoned A-level art projects and attempting to start roughly 1,000 extracurricular projects simultaneously. The doctors quickly took notice, brought me down with lithium and revised my diagnosis.

Hypomania, (literally “below mania”), is something I experience on average a few times a year, hitting in waves, usually with a clear trigger. It’s a glimpse at the maelstrom of insanity without actually dipping a toe. Delusional ideas can creep into my head, but I can analyse and dismiss them rationally with a firm “No.” I now have enough insight and experience of my own sensations and mood pattern recognition to usually ward off a manic episode, typically with self-seclusion and/or self-management, sometimes with medication. Zopiclone, a sedative, has proven to be something of a magic bullet at sniping down incoming mania, so I try to keep a stash handy – I popped one Saturday gone just to try and keep the train on the rails after barely sleeping for two weeks straight.

After accepting I was an alcoholic six years ago, I’ve gone entirely teetotal, and that itself has greatly improved my ability to monitor myself, to try and regulate my own mood – previously, I’d (technically binge)-drink more or less every single day, and drown out any troublesome hypomanic episode with even more booze, remaining entirely functional (if prone to starting each day with a big purging sick and then having a couple of practically clockwork spew breaks at work) until my liver and my nervous system started wildly red-flagging at the sheer relentless demands I was asking of them, the perpetual nature of my misguided self-medication, so I decided to stop dead drinking or risk further ruining my health.

Without in any way wishing to belittle or underestimate the impact of the disease (severe, bulk-of-a-year depression episodes have also nearly killed me) I feel like depression is something even people who don’t suffer from mental health problems can at least begin to comprehend, can take a stab at imagining the experience. Perhaps not the depths – the eroding, claustrophobic mental space, the glimmer of hope on the horizon disappearing into darkness, all sensory input turning to a grey mush, the head-in-a–tomb depersonalisation – but most people can relate to being “sad”, most people have experienced tragedy at some point in their lives. Hypomania, however, is a trickier prospect to explain. But I’ll try.

I can’t speak for others who experience the condition, but in my case, hypomania manifests itself across my whole physical, mental, emotional spectrum. Although other factors come into play, the biggest single trigger for me seems to be sleep deprivation. It’s no news that circadian rhythms and bipolar disorder are intrinsically interlinked, and I have very real first-hand experience. As a shiftworker (occasional nightshift worker) who lives on the opposite side of London to my office and has a four-month old daughter, my current sleep hygiene is pretty... ropey to say the least, so I’m trying to be extra vigilant. A few nights back-to-back of little sleep (I’m talking a hour or two, at the best of times my sleep is shit anyway and five hours is a good stint) I can often feel my mood changing gears.

Simply put, when I’m hypomanic, the world is a more engaging place; more detail fills the cracks, more edges pique my interest. All of my senses sharpen up – my vision becomes cleaner, brighter, more vivid, sound seemingly has additional frequency space, imperceptible before. My senses of smell and taste overwhelm me, aromas become intoxicating and normal food takes on gourmet qualities. My energy level skyrockets without any additional external input; I have much more impetus, enthusiasm about life, work, whatever. I can literally feel my mind starting to function differently – but not necessarily more efficiently – taking shortcuts, randomly accessing memories in remarkable detail without any prompt. I can think faster, but with less focus; I’m more distractible and will happily shoot off on wild tangents with complete disregard for my goal. Depending on circumstances at home or work, hypomania is a mixed bag – any lethargy is dispelled and my agency and job satisfaction is heightened, but I might, say, approach 20 tasks simultaneously when sequentially would be more rational.

Depending on social context, I expend varyingly extreme amounts of effort to varying degrees of success attempting to mask a hypomanic episode. You know how your body never really “heals”, and scurvy horrifyingly opens up old scars and shit? That’s kind of what my ever-simmering mental illness feels like when i’m consistently deprived of sleep for whatever reason, the cracks start appearing and it kinda seeps out a bit lol. I am well aware my hypomanic demeanour and delivery can alarm people, and I do try really, really, really hard to suppress things or if absolutely required, just remove myself from situations where a lasting, detrimental opinion could be formed. I am also fully aware I can become borderline intolerable to my long-suffering and remarkably patient wife, and I try to mitigate the condition’s impact on domesticity, again, only ever partially-successfully (sorry, Kate). On any given day, high, low, or creamy middle, I’d estimate around about 90% of my effort is put towards just trying to appear normal to others, trying to blend in. I imagine many other mentally ill people are broadly intolerant to open-plan hotdesking (not to mention the insatiable clock-in-and-hit-marks demands of capitalism).

I can physically feel my body “running hotter” when I’m hypomanic, like an overclocked CPU frazzling on a motherboard; headaches spark quickly if I don’t drink enough water. I’m not especially clued up on chemical synthesis of naturally-occurring hormones etc. but I kinda get the impression hypomania is little like organic, high-on-your-own-supply MDMA.

Hypomania seems to foster within me a deeper connection to and longing to revisit all of my favourite music, art, writing, films, games, people – chiefly, I go on obsessive listening binges of records I adore. As I mentioned earlier, my hearing changes when I’m hypomanic – songs sound better, richer, more punchy. One of my fondest ever memories of mental illness (sadly ruined by slipping into psychosis shortly afterwards) was walking around out at night listening to My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless on shitty earbuds via a Spotify stream and still hearing subtle elements blossoming from the mix I’d never clocked before; layers of what sounded like processed flutes fluttering under the wall of guitars, gentle tonal ebs and flows, what seemed to be entire hidden tracks I was only just tuning in to, a secret sound world unveiled.

This might well just be wild conjecture, but I like to think maybe some bands – the bands who “get it” – deliberately bury this audio information deep within the mix, only to be decoded by specific mental setups, be they drug-indicted or naturally, hormonally occurring, breadcrumb trails left in the studio production as a little nod by whoever put the music together that they understand the confusion, the dislocation and alienation of mental illness, something extra beyond the lyrics. It might well be bullshit but it brings me great comfort. I’ve put together a playlist of some favourite tunes I suspect were written about hypomanic states, knowingly or otherwise, or instead conjure up that specific vibe.

To be honest, the hardest thing I find about dealing with episodes of hypomania is that they can feel so good it’s very hard to not attempt to stoke the sensation, prolong it, succumb deeper to it. That way oblivion lies; please stand behind the yellow line at all times.

#hypomania #bipolar #mentalillness

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