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samwisethewitch · 3 years

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Coping with religious trauma

CONTENT WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS DISCUSSIONS OF MENTAL ILLNESS, TRAUMA RECOVERY, AND HOMOPHOBIA. The advice in this post is intended for an adult audience, not for those who are legal minors.

A lot of people find their way to paganism after having traumatic experiences with organized religion, especially in countries like the United States, where 65% of the population identifies as Christian. (This number is actually at an all-time low — historically, the percentage has been much higher.) Paganism, which is necessarily less dogmatic and hierarchical than the Abrahamic religions, offers a chance to experience religion without having to fit a certain mold. This can be extremely liberating for people who have felt hurt, abused, or ignored by mainstream religion.

To avoid making generalizations that might offend people, I’ll share my own story as an example.

My family joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, better known as the Mormons, when I was nine years old. The Mormons are an extremely conservative sect of evangelical Christianity that places a heavy emphasis on maintaining a strong community that upholds their religious values. The problem with that is that Mormon values are inherently racist, sexist, homophobic, and transphobic. As a teenager in the Mormon Church, I was told that as a woman, my only purpose in life was to marry a (Mormon) man and raise (Mormon) children. I was discouraged from pursuing a college education if it meant delaying marriage. I was not allowed to participate in the full extent of religious ritual because I was not a man. I was not allowed to express myself in ways that went against Mormon culture, and I kept my bisexuality secret for fear I would be ostracized. I didn’t have any sort of support system outside the Church, which inevitably made the mental health issues that come with being a queer woman in a conservative Christian setting much, much worse.

I left the Mormons when I was seventeen, and by that time I had some major issues stemming from my time in the Church. I had been extremely depressed and anxious for most of my teen years. I struggled with internalized misogyny and homophobia. I had very low self-esteem. I had anxiety around sex and sexuality that would take years of therapy and self-work to overcome. I wanted to form a connection with the divine, but I wasn’t sure if I was worthy of such a connection.

I was attracted to paganism, specifically Wicca, because it seemed like everything Mormonism wasn’t. Wicca teaches equality between men and women, with a heavy focus on the Goddess in worship. It places an emphasis on doing what is right for you, as long as it doesn’t harm anyone else. It encourages sexuality and healthy sexual expression. Learning about Wicca, and later other types of paganism, helped me develop the kind of healthy spirituality I’d never experienced as a Mormon. Although Wicca is no longer the backbone of my religious practice, it was a necessary and deeply healing step on my spiritual journey.

I’m not sharing my story to gain sympathy or to make anyone feel bad — I’m sharing it because my situation is not an uncommon one in pagan circles. The vast majority of pagans are converts, meaning they didn’t grow up pagan. Some had healthy upbringings in other faiths, or no faith at all, and simply found that paganism was a better fit for them. Others, like myself, had deeply traumatic experiences with organized religion and are attracted to paganism because of the freedom, autonomy, and empowerment it offers.

If you fall into this latter category, this post is for you. Untangling the threads of religious trauma can be an extremely difficult and overwhelming task. In this post, I lay out six steps to recovery based on my own experiences and those of other people, both pagan and non-pagan, who have lived through religious trauma.

While following these steps will help jumpstart your spiritual healing, it’s important to remember that healing is not a linear process — especially healing from emotional, mental, and spiritual trauma. You may have relapses, you may feel like you’re moving in circles, and you may still have bad days in five or ten years. That’s okay. That’s part of the healing process. Go easy on yourself, and let your journey unfold naturally.

Step One: Cut all ties with the group that caused your trauma

Or, at least, cut as many ties as reasonably possible.

Obviously, if you’re still participating in a religious organization that has caused you pain, the first step is to leave! But before you do, make sure you have an exit plan to help you disengage safely and gracefully.

To make your exit plan, start by asking yourself what the best, worst, and most likely case scenarios are, and be honest in your answers. Obviously, the best case scenario is that you leave, everyone accepts it, and all is well. The worst case scenario is that someone tries to prevent you from leaving — you may be harassed by missionaries or concerned churchgoers, for example. But what is the most likely case scenario? That depends on the religious community, their beliefs, and how involved you were in the first place. When making your exit plan, prepare for the most likely scenario, but have a backup plan in case the worst case scenario happens.

Once you’ve prepared yourself for the best, worst, and most likely outcomes, choose a friend, significant other, or family member who can help you make your exit. Ideally, this person is not a member of the group you are trying to leave. Their role is mainly to provide emotional support, although they may also need to be willing to run off any well-meaning missionaries who come calling. This person can also help you transition after you leave. For example, you might make a plan to get coffee with them every week during the time your old religious community holds worship services.

Finally, make your strategy for leaving. Choose a date and don’t put it off! If you have any responsibilities within the group, send in a letter of resignation. Figure out who you’ll need to have conversations with about your leaving — this will likely include any family members or close friends who are still part of the group. Schedule those conversations. Make sure to have them in public places, where people will be less likely to make a scene.

If you feel it is necessary, you may want to request that your name be removed from the group’s membership records so you don’t get emails, phone calls, or friendly visits from them in the future. You may not feel the need to do this, but if contact with the group triggers a mental health crisis, this extra step will help keep you safe.

Of course, it’s not always possible to completely cut ties with a group after leaving. You may have family members, a significant other, or close friends who are still members. If this is the case, you’ll need to establish some clear boundaries. Politely but firmly tell them that, although you’re glad their faith adds value to their lives, you are not willing to be involved in their religious activities. Let them know that this is what is best for your mental and emotional health and that you still value your relationship with them.

Try to make compromises that allow you to preserve the relationship without exposing you to a traumatic religious environment. For example, if your family is Christian and always spends all day on Christmas at church, offer to celebrate with them the day after, once their religious commitments are over.

Hopefully, your loved ones can respect these boundaries. If not, you may need to distance yourself or walk away altogether. If they are knowingly undermining your attempts to take care of yourself, they don’t deserve to be in your life.

During this time, you may find it helpful to read other people’s exit stories online or in books. One of my personal favorites is the book Girl at the End of the World by Elizabeth Esther. Hearing other people’s stories can help you remember that other people have been through similar situations and made it out on the other side. You will too.

Step Two: Seek professional help

I cannot overstate the importance of professional counseling when dealing with trauma of any kind, including religious trauma. Therapists and counselors have the benefit of professional training. They are able to be objective, since they’re approaching the situation from the outside. They can keep you from getting bogged down in your own thoughts and feelings.

I understand that not everyone has access to therapy. I am very lucky to have insurance that covers mental health counseling, but I know not everyone has that privilege. However, there are some options that make therapy more affordable.

There may be an organization in your area that offers free or low-cost therapy — if you live in the U.S., you can find information about these services by checking the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) HelpLine or visiting mentalhealth.gov. You can also look for therapists who use a sliding scale for payment, which means they determine an hourly rate based on the client’s income. And finally, if you have a little bit of extra cash you may want to look into therapy apps like BetterHelp or Talkspace, which are typically cheaper than in-person therapy.

If none of those options work for you, the next best option is to join a support group. Support groups allow you to connect with other people whose experiences are similar to yours and, unlike therapy, they allow you to get advice and feedback from multiple people. These groups are often free, although some charge a small fee.

Finding the right group for you is important. You’re unlikely to find a group for people recovering from religious trauma but, depending on the nature of your trauma, you may fit right in with a grief and loss group, an addiction recovery group, or a group for adult survivors of child abuse. If you’re a member of the LGBTQ+ community, you may be able to find a queer support group. (The LGBTQ+ club at my college was an invaluable resource in my recovery!) Depending on your area, you may also be able to find groups for specific mental and emotional issues like depression or anxiety.

Make sure to do your research before attending a meeting. Find out what, if anything, the group charges, who can join, and whether they use a curriculum or have unstructured sessions. See if you can find a statement about their values and philosophy. Make a note of where meetings are held and of who is running the group. Some support groups meet in churches and may or may not have a religious element to their curriculum. It’s best to avoid religious groups — the last thing you need right now is to be preached to.

Getting other people involved in your recovery will make you feel less alone and prevent you from getting stuck in your own head. A good therapist, counselor, or support group can help you realize what you need to work on and give you ideas for how to approach it.

Step Three: Deprogramming

“Deprogramming” refers to the practice of undoing brainwashing and reintroducing healthy thought patterns. This term is normally used in the context of cult survivors and their recovery, but deprogramming techniques can also be helpful for people recovering from a lifetime of toxic religious rhetoric.

To begin the process of deprogramming, familiarize yourself with the way organizations use thought control to shape the behavior of their members. I recommend starting with the work of Steven Hassan — his BITE model is a handy way to classify types of thought control.

The BITE model lays out four types of control. There’s Behavior Control, which controls what members do and how they spend their free time. (For example, requiring members to attend multiple hours-long meetings each week.) There’s Information Control, which restricts members’ access to information. (For example, denying certain aspects of the group’s history.) There’s Thought Control, which shapes the way members think. (For example, classifying certain thoughts as sinful or dirty.) And finally there’s Emotional Control, which manipulates members’ emotions. (For example, instilling fear of damnation or punishment.)

Here’s a simple exercise to get you started with your deprogramming. Divide a blank sheet of paper into four equal sections. Label one section “Behavior,” one “Information,” one “Thought,” and one “Emotions.” Now, in each section, make a list of the ways your old religious group controlled — and maybe still controls — that area of your life. Once you’ve completed your lists, choose a single item from one of your lists to work on undoing.

For example, let’s say that in your “Information” column, you’ve written that you were discouraged from reading certain books because they contained “evil” ideas. (For a lot of people, this was Harry Potter. For me, it was The Golden Compass.) Pick up one of those books, and read it or listen to it as an audiobook. Once you’ve read it, write down your thoughts. Did you enjoy it? Why or why not? Why do you think your group banned it? What was in this book that they didn’t want you to know about? Write it down.

Once you’ve worked on the first thing, choose something else. Keep going until you’ve undone all the items on your lists.

If you want to go further with deprogramming, I recommend the book Recovering Agency by Luna Lindsey. Although this book is specifically written for former Mormons, I genuinely believe it would be helpful to former members of other controlling religious groups as well. Lindsey does an excellent job of explaining how thought control works and of connecting it to real world examples, as well as deconstructing those ideas. Her book has been a huge help in my recovery process, and I highly recommend it.

Step Four: Replace toxic beliefs and practices with healthy ones

This goes hand-in-hand with step three, and if you’re already working on deprogramming then you’ll already have started replacing your unhealthy beliefs. This is the turning point in the recovery process. You’re no longer just undoing what others have done to you — now you get an opportunity to decide what you want to believe and do going forward. This is the time to let go of things like denial of your desires, fear of divine punishment, and holding yourself to unattainable standards. Get used to living in a way that makes you happy, without guilt.

Notice how each step builds on the previous steps. Therapy and deprogramming can help you identify what beliefs and behaviors need to be adjusted or replaced. Your therapist, support group, and/or emotional support person can help you make these changes and follow through on them.

These new beliefs and practices don’t have to be religious — in fact, it’s better if they aren’t. If you can live a healthy, happy, balanced life without religion, you’ll be in a better position to choose a religion that is the right fit for you, if that is something you want.

Your new healthy, non-religious practices may include: mindfulness meditation, nature walks, journaling, reading, exercise, energy work, learning a hobby or craft, or spending time with loves ones — or it might include none of these things, and that’s okay too. Now is the time to find what brings you joy and start doing it every day.

Step Five: Ritual healing

This is an optional step, but it’s one that has been deeply healing for me. You may find it helpful to design and perform a ritual to mark your recovery.

Note that when I say “ritual,” I don’t necessarily mean magic. Rituals serve a psychological purpose as well as a spiritual one. They can act as powerful symbolic events that mark a turning point in our lives or reinforce what we already know and believe. Even if you don’t believe in magic, even if you’re the least spiritual person you know, you can still benefit from ritual.

You might choose to perform a ritual to finalize your healing, or to symbolically throw off the chains of your old religion. It can be elaborate or simple, long or short, joyful or solemn. It might include lighting a candle and saying a few words. It might include ecstatic dance. It might include drawing or painting a representation of all the negative emotions associated with your old religion, then ritually destroying it. The possibilities are literally endless. (If you’re looking for ritual ideas, I recommend the book Light Magic for Dark Times by Lisa Marie Basile.)

One type of ritual that some people find very empowering is unbaptism. An unbaptism is exactly what it sounds like — the opposite of a baptism. The idea is that, if a baptism makes a Christian, an unbaptism makes someone un-Christian, no longer part of that lineage. It is a ritual rejection of Christianity. (Obviously, this only applies if you’re a former Christian, though some of the following suggestions could be adjusted to fit a rejection of other religions.)

If you’re interested in unbaptism, here are some ideas for how it could be done:

A classic method of unbaptism is to recite the Lord’s Prayer backwards under a full moon. (For a non-Christians version, use a significant prayer from whatever religion you have left.)

Run a bath. Add a tiny pinch of sulfur (a.k.a. brimstone) to the water. Get into the bath and say, “By water I was baptized, and by water my baptism is rejected.” Submerge your entire body under the water for several seconds. When you come back up, your unbaptism is complete. (You may want to shower after this one. Sulfur does not smell good.)

The Detroit Satanic Temple has a delightfully dramatic unbaptism ritual. For a DIY version, you will need holy water or some other relic from the faith you were baptized in, a fireproof dish, a black candle, and an apple or other sweet fruit. Light the candle and place it in your fireproof dish. Toss some holy water onto the flame (not enough to extinguish it) and say, “I cast my chains into the dust of hell.” Take a bite of the apple and say, “I savor the fruit of knowledge and disobedience.” Finally, declare proudly, “I am unbaptized.” You can add “in the name of Satan” at the end or leave it out, depending on your comfort level.

Personally, I’ve never felt the need to unbaptize myself. I’ve ritually rejected my Mormon upbringing in other ways. Maybe someday I’ll decide to go for the unbaptism, but I’ve never really felt like I needed it. Likewise, you’ll need to decide for yourself what ritual(s) will work for you.

Step Six: Honor your recovery

Our first reaction to trauma is to hide it away and never speak of it again. When we do this, we do ourselves a disservice. Your recovery is a part of your life story. You had the strength to walk away from a situation that was hurting you, and that deserves to be celebrated! Be proud of yourself for how far you’ve come!

You may choose to honor your recovery by celebrating an important date every year, like the day you decided to leave the group, the date of the last meeting you attended, or the date you were removed from the membership records. Keep this celebration fun and light — get drinks with friends, bake a cake for yourself, or just take a few moments to silently acknowledge your journey.

If you feel like having a party is a bit much, you can also honor your recovery by talking to other people about your experiences. Share your story with others. If you’re feeling shy, try sharing your story anonymously online. (Reddit has several forums specifically for anonymous stories.) You’ll be amazed by how validating it can be to tell people what you’ve been through. `

Another way to honor your recovery is to work for personal and religious freedom for all people. Protest laws with religious motivations. Donate to organizations that campaign for the separation of church and state. Educate people about how to recognize an unhealthy religious organization. Let your own story motivate you to help others who are in similar situations.

And most of all, take joy in your journey. Be proud of yourself for how far you’ve come, but know that your recovery is a lifelong journey. Be gentle and understanding with yourself. You are doing what is right for you, and no god or spirit worthy of worship could ever be upset by that.

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terminalchaos · 3 years

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Hiya!

I thought for my second post, I’d do a bit about my symptoms and what lead me to getting my diagnosis. Obviously it’s different for everyone, and I got extremely lucky. So bare that in mind! Warning: I get a bit sweary in this one. I have a lot of feelings about it.

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The city I live in, Melbourne, is officially the most locked-down city in the world in relation to COVID-19. After what has been a fucking exhausting few years, we are well and truly over it at this point. But what I didn’t realise going into the first lockdown (last year at some point) was how much I would suffer, and how badly this whole crock of absolute bullshite would affect me.

Last year in the first lockdown, I was a full-time university student, working as a medical transcriber and at an acting studio, facilitating workshops with directors, casting directors, etc. This was fine for about 2 weeks. Then everything started to fall apart, very slowly. I stopped going to my lectures and my tutorials. I started asking for extensions, more and more often. I had always been a last-minute student, starting essays on the day they were due, with about 3-5 hours set aside to sit and do the whole thing. Throughout school I do not think I did a single bit of homework on time, unless it was something I genuinely wanted to do. I often just didn’t do it, copped a detention, and moved on with my life.

This is extremely aggravating to me now, seeing that I was around hundreds of educated adults, and. Not. A. Single. Fucking. One. Either knew I was displaying symptoms of ADHD, or cared enough to try and help me. I don’t know what’s worse. It was simply punish the bad student, who never did their homework, and never studied, and never revised, and always forgot the in-class tests, and always struggled with remembering things. So, I adjusted. I still never did my homework, but I stopped caring about classes. I was rude to teachers who were rude to me, and would snap back at any teacher who didn’t show me the same respect they expected from me.

I was so, so angry.

It was completely unfair. I didn’t know why I was the only person who couldn’t do these basic things, like getting my planner signed after every week. So I resorted back to the things society told me I was: stupid, incompetent, lazy. That lead to a not great mindset, which lasted from the ages of about 13-20. I still struggle with a lot of these things, but in different contexts.

Anyway, the ways I coped at school started to fall apart at university. And they really fell apart with lockdown. Being in my house for 23 hours a day, with incredibly stringent rules, meant my ADHD just pent up. I couldn’t do anything. Not even things I wanted to do, and the pressure of deadlines weren’t enough to prod my brain into action. I just couldn’t do anything.

I figured this wasn’t normal, and one day I saw a post on ADHD in AFAB people. I read through it, and it resonated with me. Odd, I don’t have excess energy. In fact, I would oversleep constantly. Often, 12 hours a night wasn’t enough for me, and I would fall asleep at 2am. Caffeine would put me to sleep! My partner at the time would be on my back about how much I slept, constantly. He didn’t understand my ADHD presentation, which is reasonable, because I didn’t either. He would get irritated because the second I got any money, I wouldn’t save it. I’d buy things. I’d constantly put on weight because I would buy sugary snacks whenever I could. I would say yes to anything that would give me a second of joy.

When you have ADHD, your dopamine is running on empty. So everything you do is to try and boost your dopamine. It leads to a lot of behaviours that people see as irresponsible and reckless, because they can be. But it’s because our brains are screaming out for dopamine hits, however big, however long lasting. Now I know this, and can stop myself before doing these dopamine-seeking behaviours (the medications obviously help).

Reading this post about ADHD, I didn’t immediately do a deep-dive of research. I forgot about it for a while. I remembered my mum telling me when I was young that I “probably had some form of ADD, or something like that” after I spilled my guts about something that had been on my mind. I would start talking, and not stop. More and more of these little pieces started clicking. Then, I started doing actual research. I can’t remember details because, y’know, ADHD. But these symptoms started making sense. Not being able to control my impulses? Check. I am obscenely impulsive. Not being able to keep relationships? Check. Half of my friends from school in England I wanted to keep in contact with, I had completely deserted. Memory issues, not being able to keep a routine, missing deadlines, having slightly “kooky” interests, hyperfocusing, the paralysis I would feel when there were so many things to do, and I just sat in bed for 6 hours doing nothing, not eating.

I sat and cried on my partner’s bed while he comforted me. I cried over the fact I had an answer. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t lazy.

From there, I pursued a diagnosis. This was tricky: I tried three different clinics (one of which lost my referral 4 times! Shout out Alfred Road Clinic lol), and emailed different ADHD psychiatrists like crazy. I got no responses.

6 months after my initial referral, I cried to my family about how frustrating it was, knowing what was wrong with me, knowing there was treatment, but not being able to access it. Imagine how frustrating it is not being able to do anything, knowing there is a way to help, but not having access to it.

Eventually, a few strings were tugged, and I got an appointment in June 2021. July 2021, I was put on Vyvanse 30mg by my psychiatrist.

The first day I took my medication, I sat and did my Korean homework for 2 hours. Then, I sat and cried. I have never concentrated for 2 hours on demand like that.

I was furious, relieved, and incredibly sad for the 23 years I had lost, feeling like my body and mind were two separate entities. Having all these things I wanted to achieve, and achieving none. I learnt so many things were coping mechanisms I used to balance my ADHD brain: trying to be early as possible to avoid being late. Notes on my phone reminding me of everything I need to do. Double checking things three, four times.

All these things I wanted to try, and having tried none. Not being able to exercise as it made me sleepy and I never felt the benefits. Finding certain things unbearable for no reason. Getting in trouble for stupid things just because I couldn’t convince myself the dopamine payoff would be worth it. Having built nearly no skills as a young person because I had no direction. This was compounded by my want to achieve, but feeling that I couldn’t do anything, because this invisible barrier kept me in a snowglobe of my own shame and frustration. All because my stupid fucking brain was too busy trying to get hits of dopamine whenever and wherever it could.

I thought about how my A Level results would have been different if any of the adults in my life had clocked this when I was 13.

I thought about the things I could have achieved if anyone had thought to investigate just a little further.

I still cry about these things. The me that was prevented from living by ADHD taunts me from another dimension. Cow.

I needed to start to get to know myself without the dopamine addict brain. What I want to achieve, what was now possible, and how to avoid feeling like I will never achieve anything I want to. My main goal is to start having 3 meals a day, something I have never, ever been able to sustainably do. I’m still working on this.

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dbtskills · 5 years

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Psychiatric Hospitalization 101

So you’re about to save your own life by going to the hospital- here’s what you need to know:

~disclaimer: I am not a healthcare professional nor have I worked in a hospital. I am simply someone who has been hospitalized multiple times. This is about acute, short-term psych hospitalization. My word is not law~

The Truth

First off, let me tell you the truth. The truth is that being hospitalized is one of the bravest things you can do. You have chosen (or perhaps you haven’t) to save your own life. Not to beat the physical vs mental illness comparison to death, but conceptually this is like going to the hospital with a broken leg to get a cast. You’re treating an acute wound, going to get a tune up, going to a safe place to heal. Unfortunately there is a stigma involved. It’s been decreasing recently and I think you’ll find psych hospitalization is a lot more common than you imagine. But it still exists. You can be proud of taking this step. It will be hard, but you’ve made the right choice.

When to consider hospitalization

Being suicidal is one of the most common reasons for hospitalization. Psychosis, panic attacks, and substance abuse are others. The main factor for choosing to hospitalize is whether you think you can survive the episode you’re having. If you’re even questioning it, hospitalization is probably a good idea. If you’re choosing between your life and the hospital, the hospital is always the right answer even if it doesn’t seem that way at the time.

The process

There are two ways to be hospitalized: through the ER and straight to the unit. The ER is the most common way. Occasionally your therapist or psychiatrist or other healthcare provider will be able to bypass the ER for you and get you straight into a bed on a unit. If you have this opportunity, definitely take it.

If you go the ER route, you arrive and explain why you’re there. You’ll then be taken back into a room- sometimes a private room, sometimes a communal psych room. Sometimes your phone will be taken. A guard will be stationed near you to ensure you do not hurt yourself or try to run away. You may wait for hours. You’ll see a psychiatrist who will determine whether to commit you to the psych unit or send you home. If they decide to commit you, you’ll be wheeled to the unit.

For me, the worst part of the process is the ER. You’re often helped by healthcare professionals who are judgmental of mental illness or are too busy to enact kindness. It can be a very dehumanizing experience. You may regret coming to the hospital, but you did the right thing. Saving your life is always the right thing. It’s okay to regret it for a bit as long as you follow through.

What to pack

Your belongings will be confiscated upon your arrival but if you have a chance to pack or if you have someone to bring you stuff, consider these:

A warm comfy outfit like sweats (but without a string at the waist!!!!!! take it out or they won’t let you have them!), SOCKS, pjs. Loungewear basically. The hospital provides basic toiletries, socks, and gowns/scrubs/paper pants. They can provide underwear and pads as necessary. Pack a hair brush if you’ve got tangly hair bc whatever they give you will NOT suffice.

You may want to bring your medications just in case the hospital doesn’t have them in their pharmacy but you will not have access to them, all your meds will come from the hospital itself.

Books! Some hospitals have a small library but you can bring your own if they’re deemed appropriate by the staff. They provide stuff like coloring pages, puzzles, games, etc but it can get p boring.

BRING A WRITTEN LIST OF IMPORTANT PHONE NUMBERS. YOUR PHONE WILL BE TAKEN.

You will have to ask to have items you arrived with brought to you from your belongings bag. Occasionally they will be reluctant, but you can self-advocate your way through it.

On the unit

If you came to the hospital in the evening you may get little sleep that first night. You have to do the intake where they ask you all the questions and you sign a bunch of forms. You must be up for breakfast the next day. That first day you won’t get to choose your own meals but you will fill out a meal card for the next day.

Most of your day will consist of shuffling between different mental health groups. Mental Health Professionals (often social work masters students) run groups on addiction, coping skills, community resources, gratitude etc etc in addition to your stereotypical group therapy. There are 3 meals a day, snacks available, and lots of downtime. There’s also activity hour where you do crafts or play games. During activity hour in my last hospitalization I painted a cackling coffin (it was October). 10/10.

You will have a roommate. My experience is that you both mind your own business while being kind and it’s generally okay.

They will take your blood pressure and vitals at least once a day. It’s annoying but necessary. They may do labs and draw your blood depending on your circumstances. If you have a physical illness as well, it may be a battle to make sure you are seen and treated for that too. All I can say is be your best advocate.

You will not have your cell phone. This will be stressful at first but hopefully nice after a bit. You can call whomever you want using the hospital phones that are on during downtime. You may have to ask the staff to dial if it’s out of the hospital area code. People can also call you if they know where you are. Do what you need to do but also don’t be the Phone Hogger bc we all want to use it too.

Visitors are allowed during certain hours. It’s not like a regular hospital visiting situation where they can just sit by your bed for hours. It’s like once a day for an hour you can get a visitor, no more than two at a time or whatever the rules are. No one can visit or call you without your permission. Visits by loved ones are so so nice and make you feel human again. I would encourage finding someone you trust who can visit you. It can make a world of difference.

"How can I get out faster?”

This is a hack question tbh. I know everything sucks but you are there to heal first and foremost. Generally they release you when the psychiatrist thinks you’re ready to go. The average stay for something like an acute suicidal episode is 3-5 days. That’s enough time in the dr’s eyes for you to stabilize and receive any medication changes. If you are on the unit voluntarily, you can technically leave at any time. I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone insist on it though. Ask your doctors when they are considering releasing you so you can plan. They may change their answer so casually check in now and then.

Go to groups and participate in them. If you're hiding in your room all day the nurses will notice and they do write that down. There may be many people on the unit, but the nurses are keeping track and taking roll. If you can, be open, honest and compliant with your treatment team. Now there’s a part of me that goes “Fuck The System!!!! Fuck being compliant! I am my own woman and my illness is Me and not something to be stigmatized or hidden. Take me to Bitch Planet, bitch!!!” This is totally valid. You just have to decide what is more important to you- being noncompliant in the face of a judgmental system or getting back to the world. As much I want to rebel, my perfectionism and people pleasing tend to kick in by the second day on the unit.

The aftermath & “what do I tell people?”

When you are being prepped for release, you must have appointments with your outpatient treatment team set up. If you don’t already, the hospital will schedule them for you. If there’s someone who can pick you up, utilize that. Otherwise they may set you up with a cab or something depending on the location. You will be given the bag containing your phone and other belongings upon release.

It is up to you to decide what to tell people about your stay on the unit. You can be honest with whomever you choose, but you don’t have to be. You can say you were out of town or had a family emergency or whatever you want. It is not your responsibility to break the stigma. If you can and want to, go for it! We will all appreciate it. But you don’t have to advocate if you don’t feel comfortable. I tell many of my friends and family the full truth and then tell others that I was “in the hospital.” If they ask questions I say I don’t want to talk about it. This works better than you might think. (It surprised me how respectful people are when you say you don’t want to talk about something.) Most people won't even ask, tbh.

It's not all garbage

It’s not all drugged up zombies and Dissociation Time: my last experience was pretty lit. We had morning “stretches” to ‘80s bops. We played Wii bowling. We discussed aliens and conspiracy theories. In a place with such a heavy stigma on it, it was a surprisingly Shame-Free environment. It was comforting to be in a place where everyone Got It. At night we would get our meds and then drift off to bed one by one as the meds hit to goodnights of “ope, the Seroquel’s kicking in.” The variety of people on the unit proves that mental illness affects everyone, from the college student to the 75-year-old retired man to the soccer mom with 3 kids. And they each have different ways of coping, different perspectives on their situation. These other perspectives can be inspiring, even helpful and you may pick up as many tips from your peers as the actual professionals. Respect your peers, don’t be that person who’s like “why am I, Normal Person, locked up with all these Crazy People?” If you’re in there, you’re all in the same boat. Crazy is a slur and no one there is crazy unless they choose to reclaim the term.

The staff can be quite kind as well. I once had a nurse go down to the gift shop to get me a tiny hair brush for my waist-length tangled hair. He didn’t have to put in that effort but he did. This past time I had an MHP sit with me after a session and develop personalized affirmations that she wrote in my journal with her gorgeous, swooping handwriting. It’s small things like these that end up mattering most in an environment that can feel harsh. There can be great kindness there, under all the rules and regulations, you just have to be open to it.

I’ve made a wide range of friends in hospitals. Ones I’d never have even encountered in real life. Even though we haven’t kept in touch, I think of them often. My roommate with terminal kidney failure who got ECT twice a week but took the time to ask how I was. A recent immigrant from Nepal who didn’t speak any English but with whom I communicated anyway. Sandy, my homeless roommate who gave me all of her toiletries instead of taking them with her. Trevor, a young heroin addict who guarded my chocolate cake when I had a phone call. Curtis, a retired professor deep in psychosis whom we taught to Wii bowl. There are so many different lives that tangle with each other on the unit. In this way I consider it a gift, to have a window into all these different worlds that are connected by this one string. I’ll never see these people again, but I’ll never forget them either. I hope they’re all still out there, getting by.

Getting hospitalized can be one of the scariest and hardest experiences but it is also one of the bravest. You saved your own life. Even if you didn’t bring yourself in, your participation saved it. It is a chance to reorient yourself to life, to recovery. It is a second, a third, a 15th chance. It’s like a terrible mini vacation. Responsibilities are lifted so you can focus on yourself. Utilize it if you can.

Again, my word is not law, it is based on my own experiences on the inside and outside of psych units. Please please reply or send asks with your own information. I know I’m not the only one on here who’s been hospitalized. We are legion. We survived. We survive.

**Note from Kat: I am trying to learn graphic design (is my passion™) but the struggle is real and it does NOT come naturally so if anyone wants to help hmu!!!!! Can’t pay obvi but can link!**

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bakutae · 4 years

Text

haikyuu headcanons #2

today's menu:

a plate of oikawa tooru with a side of akaashi keiji, an appetisers worth of kenma kozume and a tall glass of bokuto koutarou

scenario:

where you try the 'kissing my best friend' trend on him

oikawa tooru

alright, so you were going through tik tok, scrolling through it until iwaizumi walked past and stole your phone, vigorously typing in something in the search bar

so he introduced you to the whole concept and he wanted you to try it out on oikawa cause he desperately wanted to see his reaction

'what if i tried it out on you instead'

'w-what? then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore! besides, oikawa would kill me'

you were confused by what he meant by the phrase 'oikawa would kill me' but you let it go and hastily agreed to do it

you asked iwaizumi to help plan the whole thing, since the two of them were mostly together

you and oikawa had gotten significantly closer ever since you were cheering for aoba johsai in one of their volleyball matches because your friend had practically made you go

and towards the end of the match, the opponent hit the ball too hard, causing it to fly to the audience

all the oikawa fangirls immediately reached for the ball, hoping to toss the ball back to him personally

unfortunately for you, you were swarmed by fangirls and some of them were so aggressive that they actually pushed you away just to get the ball, resulting in you suffering quite the injury

you had no choice but to sneak off to the restroom to treat your wound as the match continued

you were limping out of the toilet and he caught sight of you and apologised to you

he seemed to have taken a liking to you and started clinging onto you quite often, and therefore the two of you grew quite close

it was another one of their matches, but it hasn't started yet and the members of aoba johsai was just wandering around the event venue

as usual, oikawa was surrounded by his fangirls when you sauntered over to him and made sure his eyes were fixated on you, before glancing at iwaizumi from the corner of your eye then briefly nodding

you mouthed the lyrics to 'death bed' and when the beat dropped, you pulled oikawa towards you by the collar of his jacket and pressed a firm kiss to his lips and quickly pulled away

all of his fangirls were yelling in fury and glared at you i wouldnt be surprised if one of them pushed you away fangirls are scary

but oikawa though, he might be shocked for the first couple of seconds after the kiss, then he'd smirk and pull you in for seconds and you panic, glancing at iwaizumi

now you understood why iwaizumi said that oikawa would kill him

akaashi keiji

bokuto was getting on your nerves

ever since you and akaashi had gotten close, he was annoying the both of you constantly, whining about how you 'stole his best friend'

and so, you wanted to get back at him and at the same time, confess your feelings to kill two birds with one stone

you weren't exactly sure if it'd work though, but he's not ignoring you like he does with other girls so you considered it a major advantage

you wanted video evidence on how you stole his potential lover away from him and wanted to see his reaction really badly

so you approached tatsuki, asking him to help you film the whole incident on your phone during one of their trainings, and you managed to get their managers and coach agree too

even the managers themselves wanted to see how bokuto would react to you kissing akaashi in front of everyone

poor bokuto

so one day, during their training, you appeared out of the blue, which made bokuto feel sour already, since he knew that you'd be here for akaashi

so you watched them train and waited till they had their water breaks, when you passed tatsuki your phone, and have him film on the audio that you chose

you counted the beats in your head as you called out to akaashi, eyes still facing the camera to check if tatsuki was filming

he nodded briefly and you approached akaashi

bokuto was talking to akaashi as usual until you tapped akaashi on the back and he turned around and stared at you in confusion

your mind blanked out when your gaze met his and your body froze, though you knew the beat was already off and you should have kissed him by now

face awkwardly breaking into a smile, you hastily flung your arms around him, and kissed his cheek, feeling him stiffen against your touch, but relaxes after a while

the two of you stayed like that for a while before you felt someone tear the two of you apart

of course, it was bokuto

he was frowning and whining at the same time and kept on telling you to 'stop hitting on his best friend'

akaashi simply smiled and stared at you, his gaze instantly softening

bokuto caught sight of that and began to throw his tantrum

tatsuki came to you, phone in hand as you showed akaashi the video, and the rest of the members began to crowd around your small device

'it was a tik tok trend, akaashi. where you kinda confess to your best friend. but i wanted to see bokuto's reaction too'

akaashi's face turned significantly redder and bokuto started sulking again lmao

kenma kozume

i don't really know if you can text your friends through the nintendo animal crossing but let's pretend you can

you and kenma were addicted to animal crossing ever since it came out and the two of you had been playing for days on end, irritating all of nekoma's members but no one had the heart to stop him

you were trying to search up animal crossing hacks on tik tok and downloaded tik tok for that reason only

however, you stumbled upon humans in your for you page, contrary to your animal crossing filled one and you got curious, so you watched it to the end

that was when you learned about the trend and you decided to try it on kenma, with a twist

you were going to type the kiss in chat and find out his reaction through there

you didn't think it was ever done before so you were quite curious as to what his reaction would be

you weren't going to lie, kenma was very attractive, and if he showed any small sign of reciprocating your feelings, it would make you really happy

so you and kenma were on a whatsapp call, while the two of you were catching bugs, trying to catch the biggest one of them all when you told kenma about a hack you saw on tik tok

though you couldn't see him, your heart was still pounding and your hands began to sweat as you waited patiently for his reply

however, he replied through the call

'why are you typing in chat aren't we in a call right now?'

'kenma just play along!'

he grumbled but typed 'okay hit me' in chat anyways

so you quickly typed in the word in the chat and pressed 'enter'

however, you eyes widened in shock as you wrote *piss* instead of *kiss*

kenma burst out in laughter through the call, occasionally snorting as he was chuckling with glee

'did you just... piss on me?'

you didn't even tell him to type in chat anymore

you wanted to die from embarrassment as you felt your cheeks flush red immediately and you tried to explain yourself

kenma was still giggling uncontrollably as you felt your cheeks turn ten shades darker

'i... wanted to type kiss instead but-'

the laughter abruptly died down and you bit your lip, heartbeat suddenly increasing as more silence filled the air

you soon saw '*kisses y/n*' chat bubble appearing on top of kenma's animal crossing character and your heart stopped beating

'l-like that?'

bokuto koutaro

this boy-

he'd probably be the one doing the trend on you because he's too scared of confessing straightforwardly

and he wants to be a tik tok star so he thought that starring a beautiful girl like you would cause the algorithm to show his videos on everyone's for you page

so he brought you to the school rooftop after school and y'all would be talking about schoolwork and things like that when he suddenly pulls out his phone and asks you to wait

he starts frantically pushing buttons on it and you thought he was sending an important text message so you waited for him

until he started muttering under his breath and you could still hear him clearly, but to bokuto he was probably mumbling

'why isn't the audio working? it was working this morning when i checked...'

he nervously glanced at you and you just looked at him in confusion, you had never seen bokuto this serious and nervous before

'WHAT? WHY DID THEY DELETE THE AUDIO AT THIS PERIOD OF TIME? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KISS Y/N NOW'

at that moment he knew, he messed up

you didn't know what he was trying to do, but you kind of got the gist of it

but bokuto was scarred; he was glancing at you with big bug eyes, mouth agape and the grip on his phone loosened as it dropped on the ground

you picked it up for him and caught sight of his screen where it was filled with the captions 'kissing my best friend to see if they like me back'

bokuto would just be frozen the entire time, still not believing that he had just said thise exact words in front of you

it was way worse than straightforward confessions which made him really nervous as he anticipated for your reaction

you found the trend really cute and was really honored that bokuto wanted to try to trend out, especially on you

with his feelings practically displayed out in the open, you couldn't help but tease him a bit

'aww bokuto, are you sure you didn't mistake me for akaashi instead?'

'n-no! of course not! akaashi is just my best friend-'

you had a feeling he was going to keep rambling about how akaashi and his' relationship was purely platonic and you decided to shut him up with a kiss

and damn did it work

but now, he had to worry about what to say when people asked about how you started your relationship and boy was it going to be fun teasing him about it

taglist: @sugacookiies @sushij1ma @shiggywiggy

message me to be added into my taglist!

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jemej3m · 4 years

Note

(mobster/cop au) what did the foxes think Andrews husband would be like before they met Neil? Did they had a bet?

this is…..not what you asked. i went off on a tangent lol, but i aint sorry.

(also i, for some reason, just cannot write good betting scenarios. might be because gambling addictions are p.serious. i know its all in good fun though! so im sorry i couldn’t include it)

Getting information about Andrew was like pulling teeth, and this was news to no one. Seeing as Kevin was - probably, maybe, most likely - Andrew’s closest friend at the precinct (other than Renee. And Wymack, possibly), Dan and Matt seemed to look to him after the discovery that Andrew had a husband when they’d all been trapped in that basement.

“Why would I know anything?” Kevin objected, when they’d approached him.

“Because Renee won’t give up his secrets and I know you’re as curious as we are,” Matt supplied.

“Well, I know nothing that y’all don’t already know. Apparently he’s married to a guy. I once overheard him talking on the phone to a Neil. Assuming that Andrew has no social life - which is an easy assumption to make - his husband is Neil.”

“Ooh,” Dan said, wiggling her eyebrows conspiratorially. “Mr Neil Minyard. Anything else?”

Kevin just shrugged. “Nope. Andrew’s a wall. You’ll never get anything more than that.”

Dan crouched down behind the car, breathing heavily. “Fucking hell,” she muttered, as another round of bullets sprayed out. She hated shootouts. At least Matt was safe at the precinct: she’d been doing a patrol with Andrew and Renee when they’d been radioed.

“Good that it’s a dead area,” Renee insisted, forever a ray of sunshine and goodness. How she and Andrew got along was a conspiracy to be marveled at, but it worked. “We shouldn’t be dealing with any civilian casualties.”

“Hey, coppers!” came a voice. “Fuck off! This ain’t your problem!” More bullets.

Dan rolled her eyes, then flinched as the car they were all crouched behind was fired at. Andrew grunted, a furrow between his brows.

“We told you to fuck off - !” the same guy yelled, before he was most definitely shot, making a gurgling noise in lieu of words.

“Andrew, south east,” Renee called. Andrew got up on his knee and aimed quick: he was one of the sharpest shooters on the squad. Dan heard a female scream “Shit!” as the shooting quietened.

“Nice shot,” she told the detective. He just grunted. “Right, clear out. Let’s never sign up to patrol this section of town on a Friday night again.”

“Agreed,” Renee mumbled, holding her gun close.

It seemed that whoever Andrew had shot got away: a pool of blood without a body remained evident on the path. The other group had abandoned their loud-mouthed friend, who was still writhing on the tar as the ambulance arrived. He’d only been shot in the arm, and it hadn’t hit bone. He’d be fine.

“Alright,” Dan told her two officers. “How about we sign off?”

They both grunted in agreement.

It was Tuesday morning, and Andrew’s desk was empty for a second day in a row. Dan folded her arms and stalked towards Wymack’s office to demand that the captain give Minyard a call, but he held up a broad palm as she entered the room.

“Andrew’s cited a family emergency.”

Dan narrowed her eyes. “Sure.”

Wymack simply arched a brow at her. “His husband was shot. If you want to cross-check for me and give him a call, be my guest, Wilds.”

Dan slowly retreated out of the captain’s office. She wasn’t suicidal enough to give Minyard a ring, not under those circumstances. Wymack’s word was definitely good enough.

She went back to her desk as Matt sidled up beside her, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“No PDA at work,” she complained.

“Shift’s over,” Matt pointed out, grinning. She rolled her eyes. “What should we get for dinner?”

“Not sure…” Dan trailed off as she watched Renee packing her desk, checking her watch rapidly and hastily slinging her bag over her shoulder. She pattered over to the bullpen’s kitchen and drew out a casserole dish from the freezer, lifting the foil to check its contents. With the dish held against her hip, she checked the freezer closed and made her way to the elevator.

“Whatcha got there, Renee?” Matt piped up, helping the dish out of Renee’s hands when she’d dropped her phone. It wasn’t often that Renee got flustered: she hastily picked up the mobile and tucked her hair behind her ears. Dan noticed she was wearing lip gloss.

“Well, since Neil’s been - sick,” she started.

“Shot,” Matt supplied. Dan glared at him: he shrugged. “What? I read Captain’s lips.”

Renee snorted, taking the dish back now that she was more organised. “I offered to make dinner, and Andrew prefers punctuality. I just hope that Neil likes it: I’ve never made this quiche before.” she worried, quietly. “Andrew said he hates vegetables but will put up with them when they’re hidden away. And hopefully Allison will eat eggs, and cheese.”

“Allison?” Dan inquired.

“Neil’s best friend,” Renee said, still distracted as she looked for her car keys. “Oh, heavens, I’m so late.”

“Go,” Dan insisted. Renee smiled gratefully. “Tell Andrew we say hello.” She nodded and jogged towards the exit.

“And tell Neil to get shot less!” Matt added, unhelpfully. “I won’t keep doing his paperwork!”

Dan laughed and leaned into her husband’s shoulder. She looked up at him, her chin brushing the crook of his neck. “Do you think Andrew will ever let us meet him?”

“Not sure,” Matt said. “It would probably completely ruin his cred as a stoic asshole. He’s probably a massive sap at heart.”

Dan smiled into the collar of Matt’s shirt. “Never put Andrew Minyard and sap in the same sentence again, babe.”

Matt just laughed and looped a hand around her waist.

“So,” Matt said, leaning against the edge of Minyard’s table. “How was your week off?”

“Great,” Minyard said flatly. “Go away.”

Matt ignored him and sat in the victim’s chair, leaning his chin on his hand. “You know, I’m pretty sure you and your husband have been married longer than Dan and I have. Do you have any anniversary suggestions?”

“Get a divorce,” Minyard grunted, looking at his report.

Matt grinned. “Don’t be like that. What did you and Neil do last time?”

“Nothing,” Minyard mumbled. Matt noticed his cheeks going red and rose up his eyebrows. Minyard noticed his look and scowled. “It was our anniversary this week and he was bedridden. Quit looking at me like that, Boyd.”

“A January wedding,” Matt cooed. “Did you take photos in the snow?”

“I will castrate you.”

“Cool,” Matt said, airily. “Well, happy anniversary, Andrew. Tell Neil we said hi.”

“I won’t,” Andrew insisted. “Get lost.”

Matt snorted and did as he was told. He’d intended to say hi to Renee, but she was over at Dan’s desk, so he sauntered over with his thumbs hooked into his pockets.

“Hey, Renee,” he said, grinning. His fellow detective and his sergeant raised their eyebrows at him. “I’ve been thinking,”

“You should be working,” his wife reminded him.

“Andrew just had his anniversary, right? But they couldn’t do anything because Neil’s been bedridden. We should all pitch in for a gift. Maybe a weekend away?”

“That’s a lovely idea, Matt,” Renee said, grinning.

“How the hell did you get that information out of him?” Dan said, incredulous.

“I’ll email you some ideas: you know the two of them, best.” Matt rubbed his hands together.

“Preferably not New York, not somewhere warm, or somewhere with lots of people,” Renee advised. “Neil is apparently forever antagonistic and it drives Andrew up the wall.”

“Sexy up the wall or angry up the wall? I don’t think we should be encouraging strenuous activity when Neil’s been recovering from a bullet wound.” Renee just laughed, neither confirming nor denying Matt’s inquired. She bid both of them good day and went back to her desk, ignoring Minyard’s inquisitive looks.

“Why are you doing this?” Dan murmured.

Matt shrugged. “Dunno. I feel like he deserves it.”

Dan smiled at him. “Alright.”

Kevin, Renee, Matt and Dan were all sitting in the breakroom. Andrew stormed in, bright and cheery as ever. It was a blissful Tuesday morning, sleet pelting down and temperatures well below freezing: As Andrew tugged off his scarf, revealing a wind-pinked nose and a fair amount of love bites just above his collar, he chucked a tin onto the table.

“Who’s idea was it?” Andrew accused.

Kevin watched Matt grin, looking up at Andrew. They were almost the same height even with Matt sitting down. “How were the mountains?”

“Very pleasant,” Andrew muttered, peeved. “Neil baked those as thanks. I hope he poisoned them. You’re all the worst.” After a moment, and a reprimanding glance from Renee, he mumbled out a quiet “Thank you.” and just as quickly as he’d come in, he turned to leave. He must have caught his reflection in the window, because he hastily tugged the scarf back around his neck, cheeks turned pink.

Kevin huffed, looking to his colleagues. “Are you satisfied enough, now? I, for one, now know way more about him than I ever wanted to.”

The Boyd-Wildses opposite him just grinned.

ehheeheewill i ever post the renison + wedding thing? hopefully yes - if i dont run out of steam first. almost 2/3s of the way through my rbb and its taking longer than i thought!!!! also moving out of state, so a lot is happening rn and if that means i neglect ur asks and prompts i am very sorry!!!!

#andreil #dan wilds/matt boyd #andrew minyard #neil josten #cop!andrew #cop!foxes #butcher!neil #married couple #all for the game #aftg #mobster/cop au #jem writes

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13-reasons-ideas · 3 years

Text

Can’t Go Back Part 15

Neither of us knew how to continue that conversation, especially when we were upset. We sat in an awkward silence for a while. We both seemed to unconsciously know that we couldn’t have it productively or honestly if we were both still this upset. “I uh… I need to go finish an essay so Mr. Jensen can proofread it. I’ll be at the table if you need anything.”

“Okay. Do you want to be alone or…?”

“Doesn’t matter. You can watch tv or something if you want. I’ll be in the zone soon enough.” Monty nodded and awkwardly kissed the top of my head. I sent Justin a quick text, just to update him so he knew I was okay. I told him. We are going to talk about it when we are both in clearer headspaces. It took a few minutes for him to answer.

How did he take it?

He’s upset. I mean obviously he was upset. But he agreed that we need to talk about it when we can have a rational conversation. I’ll let you know how that goes. I spent the night writing essays and finishing up a couple of writing samples. At some point Monty came over and slowly pushed a bowl of yogurt, berries, and granola over to me silently before going back to the couch. I accepted it silently. I looked at the clock a while after I finished my yogurt and yawned loudly. It was just before midnight. I saved my work, stood, and walked over to the couch. Monty didn’t seem to be watching anything exactly. More just… looking at the screen.

“Are you coming to bed?” I asked timidly, pulling the sweater I grabbed an hour or two ago around me.

“Are you sure you want me there? I’m fine on the couch.”

“No, I do.” I nodded. He nodded back and turned off the tv. I held my hand out to him and he took it gently. He seemed unsure if this was something I really wanted or not. I smiled and squeezed softly. For the first time in days, together we went and got ready for bed. I put on another one of his t-shirts while he brushed his teeth and crawled into bed. He joined me a few minutes later. When he didn’t pull me closer to him, I curled up against his side and laid my head on his chest. All is not forgiven but I really need the sleep. He ran his fingers through my hair. If you didn’t know what had transpired in the last few days, it would seem like we were simply going to bed like we had every other night since we got married.

“Night night Monty.” I muttered, halfway to what I hoped would be a peaceful slumber.

“Night night Addison.” He replied. For the first time since Wednesday night, I slept soundly through the night.

In the days that followed, it was much of the same as Sunday afternoon. We danced around each other at home. We were short but cordial at school with each other. Refusing to say more than single- or double-word answers unless necessary, spending as little time together before or after class as we could, and keeping quiet at lunch may have raised a few of our friend’s brows. They didn’t comment on it if they noticed though. It was uncomfortable. We may have been used to hiding and keeping quiet at school but that didn’t make it any easier. The whole point of telling people was to not need to do this anymore.

Monty pulled me aside after lunch on Tuesday. “I told Coach I have an extra PT appointment today because my knee has been stiff. Are you okay to talk after school?”

I stopped to think for a moment. Am I ready? I’ll take anything over this awkward silence and wedge between us. Even if I’m scared. At least he’s taking initiative to deal with it. “Uh, yeah. After school works for me. I’ll see you at home?”

“Okay.” I adjusted my bag and hurried off to class. This is going to be a very interesting afternoon. I tried my best to focus on my work, but my mind wouldn’t stop going over the possibilities of what could happen tonight.I don’t want this to be another screaming match. This could devolve so quickly. Am I ready to deal with him refusing to take responsibility again? What if I’m wrong? What if he really is ready to try and fix this? Maybe it could go well. It’s going to suck either way. But maybe if we have an adult conversation, we can move on and things can get back to normal faster. What if…?

Monty beat me home. Mr. Porter called me into his office during last period to give me a couple of documents to send along with my college applications. As a result, I was running late to get home. I burst through the door, clutching the files to my chest so they didn’t fly everywhere in my haste to get inside. “Hey, sorry I’m late. Porter had to give me some paperwork and I had some questions about it. Took a little longer than I expected.” I huffed.

“No problem. Get everything you need?”

“Yeah. I’ll stop at my parents place later this week to scan it all.”

“Sounds good.” I set my papers on the island and went to sit on the couch. Pulling the blanket around me, I settled in for what could be a very long night.

“Do you understand why I’m upset?” I asked when he joined me on the couch.

“I think so.”

“Can you explain why you think I’m upset?”

“You’re upset that I didn’t communicate with you enough?”

“I mean, yes. That is part of why I’m upset. But it’s not the only reason.”

“I think you’re upset because you know that” he paused and thought about it. “You’re upset because I acted without thinking about the consequences. And it’s impact on you and our relationship.” Wow. He was listening.

“Y-yes. You have it mostly right.”

“Mostly?”

“I’m also upset because I know you know better than to do that. I’m upset that it seems to be becoming a pattern. We’ve talked about it before. I have no problem with you going out with the boys and doing stuff. I don’t even really have a problem with you drinking a little. I have a problem with it when you come home trashed, and I have to clean up the mess.” I reached out and took his hand on mine. We are in this together. No matter what. We are a team.

“I know. It’s just… you know I’m not exactly used to having to answer to someone.”

“I know. But at some point, that stops being an acceptable reason. At some point you have to own up and accept responsibility for your actions.”

“I know I’m responsible for my actions Addison.” He seemed to be getting upset now. I didn’t want this to turn into another blow up fight.

“Hey, I never said you didn’t know that. But there is a difference between knowing that you are responsible and accepting responsibility.” He didn’t respond so I continued. “This is becoming a more frequent thing and it’s concerning. When I say that you need to accept responsibility, I’m not trying to attack you or say that you think your behaviour is okay. I’m sorry if that’s how it comes off.” He didn’t respond again. I watched him look into his lap. “I need you to say something. We can’t have a conversation about this and fix things if you aren’t going to contribute.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say Addison.”

“I don’t want you to say any specific thing. I want you to contribute to our conversation. I don’t want to just sit here and talk at you. I don’t want to sit and just tell you how I feel. I want you to tell me how you feel.”

“I feel like I really screwed up.”

“Okay. That’s something. What else?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know how to fix this.”

I decided to take a risk. “Do you want to fix this?” He whipped his head up instantly.

“Of course, I want to fix this. What kind of question is that?”

Okay, maybe that was too much too fast. “It was just a question. I know you want to fix this.”

“Why are you so concerned about this?”

“About you overdrinking when you go out with your friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Because you’re better than this Montgomery. I know you are. And you don’t communicate with me when you do. It’s like you’re trying to hide it. The fact that you don’t seem to see this as a problem is also worrying.”

“I’m not trying to hide anything. I just don’t check my phone that often with the guys, you know that.”

“I do. But any other time you’re with them, you tell me where you are or when you think you’ll be home. And you tell me when you’re leaving. The only time you don’t is when you do something that you think would upset me.”

“I never noticed that.”

“I didn’t think you did. That’s why I’m mentioning it.”

“Okay.”

“It also worries me that you really only do it when you’re with certain friends.”

“You mean Bryce?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Yes. When you’re out with pretty much any of your other friends, you don’t act like that.” He huffed out a laugh.

“And it all comes back to Bryce.” He muttered.

“Apparently yes. Since he seems to be the common denominator when we talk about this. And I haven’t spent enough time with your other friends to know otherwise.”

“He isn’t this horrible person that you think he is Addison.”

“Well, that may be true to some degree, but he’s not this amazing guy you make him out to be. He encourages you to do things that you know aren’t in your best interest.”

“You mean aren’t good for you.”

“No. I don’t. You know that when you drink like that, it causes problems between us. You know that when he’s around you act differently. I mean, you said yourself that it was probably a good idea not to tell him about us when we were considering who to tell about our relationship. If he was as good a guy you think he is, why would you say that? If you’re as close to him as you say you are, why wouldn’t you want him knowing about me? You were more than happy to tell Scott about us as soon as we told Justin. But not Bryce. That isn’t strange to you?”

“Bryce and I don’t have the same kind of friendship that Scott and I do. We don’t talk about important stuff.”

“Uh huh. Okay. We’ll go with that one.”

“I told you before I’m not going to stop being friends with him.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just think you need to think about the kinds of people you want to surround yourself with.”

“Addison. Your best friend is a recovering heroin addict who abandoned you for months. You don’t really have room to be passing judgement about who I choose to surround myself with.” My mouth fell open and I stared at him. I cannot believe he just said that.

“Excuse me.”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

“That isn’t fair. That isn’t fair and you know it.”

“How is it not fair?”

“Because unlike you, Justin takes responsibility for his actions. Justin didn’t do it because his friends encouraged him to do it.”

“I don’t see the difference between what you said and what I said is.”

“The difference Montgomery is that I would say what I said to Bryce’s face. You would never say what you said to Justin’s face.”

“How do you know?”

“Because even though for some reason you seem to have forgotten this right now, I know you Montgomery. I know you better than I know myself. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Fine.”

“So is this how this is going to go? We were doing so well. We were having a mature conversation. And when I presented you with logical reasoning as to why I have a problem with the way your friend influences you, you hit me with that low of a blow?” He was quiet for a while. I huffed loudly and rolled my eyes. Honestly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Okay?”

“I’m sorry for what I said about Justin. It was out of line and it wasn’t fair. I know it’s not the same thing. I just… Bryce is my friend Addison. You can’t expect me to sit here and be okay with you telling me what an awful person you think he is. You don’t even know him.” It was my turn to be quiet. Maybe I was being unfair. I had never really spent a lot of time with Bryce, not that I wanted to. I mean, Justin was his best friend for a really long time. And giving him a chance wouldn’t mean I have to ignore all of the terrible things he has done. I wouldn’t have to be alone with him. A chance can’t hurt.

“Okay. I’m sorry too. He’s your friend. I’ll try to be nicer to him. I can’t make any promises though.”

“Thank you. If it makes you more comfortable, I can cut down on the time I spend with him.”

“I’ll think about it?” I still wasn’t super okay with the idea of telling him who he can and can’t be friends with.

“And I’m sorry that I took things too far when I was out Thursday night and it hurt you. When you told me that it scares you when I come home like that….” I didn’t urge him to go on. I knew it would come out eventually. Instead, I inched closer to him and held his hand a little tighter. I waited quietly until he was ready to proceed. “All of the sudden I was a little kid hiding in my closet from my dad again. I never…” he paused again, “I never wanted that for you. And I don’t want that to be what our kids go through. I don’t want them to be afraid of me. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”

“I know. I never really realized that that was the reason I got so upset until I was talking to Justin. He called me out on trying to say that it was just a Bryce issue, when it’s not. Hey, can you look at me?” He looked up. “I’m not afraid of you. Not really. I know that you would never do anything to hurt me.”

“It’s hard to hear the woman you love. No, the person you love most in this world, tell you that you scare them.”

“I can imagine. Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. If you do, I want you to be honest with me though, okay?”

“Go ahead.” He nodded.

“Is there something going on with you that you aren’t telling me about?”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know, just something. Is there a reason you pushed so far past your limit on Thursday?”

“No. I can honestly tell you that I just got carried away. And I will concede that Bryce and a few of the guys may have encouraged it.”

“Okay. If there is, you know you can talk to me about it, right?”

“I know. I promise to tell you if there is. And I promise I’ll be more aware of what I do and how much I drink when I go out.” I nodded to him and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

When I had a moment alone, I texted Justin. Hey, so we talked for a few hours after school. I think we are at least on the road to getting back to normal. We kind of laid it all out and we both have things we can work on. Thank you for helping me figure things out.

That’s good. I’m glad to hear it Addy. What are best friends for?

Stealing French fries off of at lunch?

Hahahahhaha I knew it was you.

No comment. I love you.

I love you too.

By Thursday, Monty and I were starting to feel more like ourselves. Things were still a little tense and they probably would be for a while. At least until some of the residual tension went away. I was getting undressed when Monty got out of the shower that morning. “Uh Addison?”

“Yes?” I was trying to put on my pants while simultaneously clawing at my arms.

“Two questions.”

“What?”

“One, why are you scratching at your arms like you’re itching to get your next fix? And two, what the hell is all over your back?”

“Stress rash.”

“Why do you have a stress rash?”

“Well, it could have something to do with fighting with my husband for almost a week.” So itchy. Make the itchy stop. “And that coupled with trying to get my college applications in on time for early admission, has made me a little stressed out.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. It should clear up after I get my applications done.”

“Okay….” He passed me a sweatshirt from the closet. “Here, this is loose. Or do you want one of my shirts?”

“This is good. Thank you.”

I took a cool shower when I got home and decided to work on getting my applications finished. The sooner they’re done, the sooner the rash will go away. I merely grunted when Monty got home. I was too focused on my computer. He chuckled to himself quietly and turned on the tv. “That’s my girl.” He muttered. I smiled softly. A few hours later, I had done it. All the early applications for my choice schools were complete. I just had to submit them. Finally.

“Done.” I said as I hit submit.

“What are you done?” Monty asked, swiveling his head.

“I just submitted my last early application.”

“That’s good. How do you feel?”

“Like my entire future is traveling at light speed and is now sitting in someone’s inbox.” I put my face in my hands and groaned. Monty chuckled. I couldn’t stop staring at my computer screen. I heard him open the fridge and grab something. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

“No.”

“That’s communal food. And no sex jokes.”

“I’m not.” I heard him puttering around the kitchen, opening and closing drawers. “Do we have… never mind I found it.”

“Okay?” He didn’t respond and continued whatever he was doing. The sound of a plate being placed next to me made me jump. I looked up and Monty was grinning at me. He gestured towards the plate. He made me a sandwich. “Thank you.” I said softly.

“No problem.” He ruffled my hair and went to go sit back on the couch.

The next morning, I had Montgomery put some lotion on my back to soothe the itch while we were at school. He left little kisses down the back of my neck. I tried not to smile but I couldn’t help it. Things were still tense, even after our talk. I wasn’t sure I had completely forgiven him yet. We were still walking on eggshells around each other. This wasn’t an issue we could just sweep under the rug and pretend didn’t happen. Slowly though, our relationship was shifting back to normal. “Can you grab the cream cardigan out of the dryer when you’re in the kitchen please?”

“Sure.” While he was gone, I got dressed in black jeans and a maroon lace crop top. He whistled when he came back in. “Those should be at home jeans.” I rolled my eyes at him and he slapped my ass playfully.

“Monty!”

“What?” he shrugged, obliviously. I rolled my eyes and flipped him off. He chuckled to himself, knowing he couldn’t do anything. You got yourself into this. I slipped on a pair of black flats and grabbed my travel mug as we left the house.

Justin was waiting for us when we got to school. He had two cinnamon twists and a cup of tea from Monet’s with him. Apparently with my name on them. “A rather large birdy told me you had an important night last night.”

“Ooooo.” Garrison teased.

“No.” Monty ground out.

“I submitted my last early application for school last night.”

“Oh. Not ooo then. Jeeze Addy, had to go and make the rest of us look like slackers.”

“Well, I unfortunately don’t have schools calling and sending pamphlets begging me to attend their institutions. Some of us have to rely on academics to stand out.” The small group laughed around me. I hugged Justin as I took a chunk off the muffin. “Thank you. Now I just have to wait for responses.”

“How long will that take?” Bryce asked as he joined us.

“Too long.” I stated. Don’t want to be nice. Even though I promised I would try.

“O…kay.” The bell rang before I could say anything that would get me in trouble. I did catch Justin’s lip twitch though. He knew my expressions like the back of his hand.

Geography was easily the most boring class of the day for me. I usually didn’t participate much. Today however, I couldn’t stop myself. I don’t know if it was the stress or the fact that I had been running on fumes for the last week and a bit, but I couldn’t hold back my laughter when a student made a less than thought out comment.

“But Ms. Carlson. When my family and I were in Brazil this summer, the Spanish sounded different.” Carter said. Oh my. I tried so hard not to laugh but it just bubbled out. And once it started, it wasn’t stopping. People turned to look at me. Zach and Bryce looked at me like I had officially lost it.

“I… I’m sorry. I-it’s not you Carter.” I started. “I submitted my last college application last night and,” I paused again to try to catch my breath, “my stress level has been just a little high.” I paused yet again and took a deep breath. “The reason the Spanish sounded ‘funny’ is because it’s not fucking Spanish.” He looked at me funny. “It’s Portuguese.”

“No. It’s Spanish.”

“No. It’s not.”

“Yes, it is. Ms. Carlson?”

“It’s Portuguese. Brazil was colonized by Portugal Carter.” Ms. Carlson told him.

“Oh.” I had finally caught my breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I get a little loopy when I get stressed.”

“No, it’s okay Addy.” He nodded to me.

I relayed the story of the Geography incident to our friends at lunch. The boys, even Bryce and Zach who witnessed it firsthand, found it absolutely hilarious.

“So, do you like, know any Portuguese?” Ryder’s girlfriend, Taylor, asked. Monty cleared his throat and grabbed my hand, squeezing. I turned to him, seeking permission, before answering. He nodded. I turned my attention back to the group.

“I can curse and that’s about it.”

“Oh?”

“Let’s just say there’s a reason I haven’t spoken to my father-in-law since before I married his son.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No, it’s okay.” I liked Taylor. She was nice. She wasn’t a cheerleader or overly pretentious. I could see myself being friends with her.

“We’ve talked about it and we are both comfortable with the situation.” Monty added.

“Can we get that story sometime?” Connor asked.

“You have to tell them.” Scott said.

“They need to hear it.” Charlie and Justin agreed.

“Maybe one day.” I smirked.

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

The Bad Guy, pt. 3 - Haunted (Gang AU)

Summary: Grayson’s attempt to pull out of his gang related business seems futile as his past comes back to haunt him. Deciding to keep it a secret only brings more issues as it creates a distance between him and Y/N he can’t bridge.

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT, injuries, blood, death, swearing...

Word count: 18.5k

The Bad Guy - Series Masterlist

Frowning, my eyes struggle to adjust to the light basking my skin, squinting to try and get a better view of the perpetrator although I know it's him.

If anything was certain about Grayson Dolan it was his love for sunrise and while I'm far from a morning person, waking up to watch his mesmerized gaze has become the epitome of a full life.

Quietly, afraid to startle him and ruin my favorite view, I stand up too, fighting the lightheaded feeling swaying me from side to side, nearly blinding me for a moment or two.

And I stand there, silently watching this beautiful, handsome specimen I still can't believe is mine. I watch him with fervor, with a fire unequaled to any volcano. And I admire him - every muscle, every scar, every mark life had left on his body.

He could have any woman he lays his eye on and yet he chose me? Sometimes I think it's a dream, a cosmic joke to give me everything I ever wanted before ripping it away once reality sets in, but it's not. He's here and he is mine and even after countless, nearly lethal obstacles, I can't fathom regretting being a part of his world.

Meeting Grayson Dolan has been the highlight of my life and I count my lucky stars every day as I thank the universe for giving me a chance to not only love a man as magnificent as him, but also be loved by him.

To be loved by Grayson Dolan is a powerful thing, a force of nature that is all consuming. It's a blessing and he might not agree with me on this, but if I had a chance to do it all again? I'd choose him over and over until I am nothing but ash and dust.

Perhaps we aren't the luckiest lovers in the world, but we're far from Romeo and Juliet. They had tragedy sown in their souls, but we have the space to make our own destiny and I am determined to make it a happy one.

Stalking toward him on my tiptoes, I smile when I'm almost behind him, my arms instinctively reaching for his waist and I sense his gentle gasp as my hands glide under his arms and over his stomach. I lay my head to rest between his shoulder blades, listening to the soft breathing reminding me how lucky I am to be alive - how lucky I am he's alive.

His arms reach back and his hands rest awkwardly on my back, and I know he's smiling. He's appreciating the beauty before him as much as the tenderness of my love for him.

If Grayson knows one thing for sure it's how my love for him will always trump my love for sleep and I'm not sure he will ever truly get used to that.

We remain silent, enjoying each other's company and sweetness of another morning we get to spend together, all until the alarm clock screeches and we both jump at the loudness.

Turning around, his hands move to my hips and while I've always felt insecure about the fat he'd actually rest his hands on instead of my bones, Grayson simply gave me a reassuring squeeze, almost as if he could tell I'm once again struggling with my appearance and the latest weight gain I couldn't explain certainly didn't help my body dysmorphia.

"All my favorite days started and ended with you." His raspy voice brings chills, awakens my heart and I've always said he's better than caffeine in the morning.

"Cheesy." I remark, almost teasing him with a raised eyebrow and a swift, playful wink. "You're lucky I'm into cheesy romance."

Rolling his eyes at me with the slightest inkling of a smirk upon his plump lips, Grayson is quick to pull me closer, making me squeal and not in the attractive ways girls do it in movies, rather a pig like way.

Our noses collide before our lips firmly press together, finding our normal rhythm easily. Hands roaming his chest, fingers playing with his chest hair, I can feel my mind turn numb to our surroundings, the rest fading away. Grayson always had that effect, making me forget about the world and he didn't have to try, even one look was enough.

"Y/N." He whispers my name in between kisses spelled with our lips, my teeth sinking into his bottom lip, nibbling on the soft skin until an exasperated groan leaves him and I know his morning wood has begun to bug him and our kisses certainly didn't make it any easier on him.

"I can help with that." Coy, I inch away, breathing heavily. He's smilingly shaking his head and I can't help the disappointment on my face for I know what he's going to say.

"I want to, TRUST ME, but I have an early meeting." Apologetic as ever, Grayson steps back as if distance would somehow stop some sort of an imaginary spell I've cast on him. But this has become a rather common occurrence. It's why I wake up so early, hoping to steal a few peaceful moments in his arms before he leaves for work and more often than not, he's not back until late.

I'm not better with my intern year exhausting me all the time either, but I miss him ALL THE TIME and he seems to lack the same emotion. Sometimes I wonder if he misses me too or if his job, as legal as it’s supposed to be, is still his number one priority. He changed his tune on the matter, but his actions are faltering that belief in my heart.

I want to believe in him – in us, but love is a flower that needs to be watered and lately, there’s been a draught. And we are still intimate…a lot, but we lack the kind of quality time we spent together back when we had the world against us.

Sometimes, as selfish as it may be, I wonder if having my life threatened is the only way to have his undivided attention.

"Sure. I should get ready too." Biting my lip, I thread my fingers through my hair and sigh, avoiding his eyes to hide my dejection. It's not easy realizing we're officially becoming like any other couple where we don't seem to prioritize each other and if I'm being honest, it's killing me.

Grayson is the one to break the silence first. "Doll, have you seen my shirt?"

"Pretty sure I ripped it off you last night. Might want to grab that hoodie instead, because I'd rather not have you flaunting those flawless abs in public." I smirk, stopping once my eyes catch the horror in his.

"You. Want. Me. To. Wear. A. Hoodie? I can't be seen in a hoodie!" Grayson's words only make me chuckle, reminding me that behind his bad boy facade truly is a drama queen with a notable fashion sense. It makes me feel normal, and maybe being normal isn't always a bad thing. Maybe I’m just addicted to thrill of danger we were stuck in for so long I’ve forgotten that we’ve finally found serenity – a reality that should be more comfortable for me.

"Yes?" It was more of a question than a statement, paired with an amused look in my eyes and once my teeth sunk in the left corner of my bottom lip, Grayson's heart skipped a beat.

"The only reason I own a hoodie is because I bought it so you, my girlfriend, could steal it and we'd have some sense of normalcy as a couple. You know? No bloodshed, no tortured souls or kidnapping, just the old run of the mill girlfriend stealing her boyfriend's hoodie." Grayson justified, only making me giggle.

"And it worked, so now you can do what every boyfriend does and steal it back while giving me a glare for stealing it in the first place only to kiss me and tell me I look better in it than you anyway." I retort, enjoying his casually entertaining sauntering toward me, both his eyebrows raised.

"Well, it isn't even mine anymore, it's ours." He rolls his eyes with a cheeky smile, making my heart melt. This is how it’s supposed to be when two people love each other - easy as breathing. This, right now, just him and I and no obligations tearing us apart – this is how it should be.

Grabbing the hoodie, he shakes it before me, granting me a teasing glare. "I'm not gonna wear it but stealing isn't nice. Even if it does look better on you." Reenacting my little speech, Grayson pecks my lips before continuing his morning ritual and I draw a deep breath, shuddering at the thought of losing him.

I didn't come home that night, forced to pull a double shift at the hospital yet my phone didn't ring. Most nights, Grayson would call and check up on me even though I know it’s mostly to hear my voice – he explained it was soothing, a comfort he never takes for granted.

Sighing, I lock the screen and chase a few peas across the plastic plate, wondering what Grayson is doing, if he is hungry or tired, if he's wishing he could be next to me as much as I am. I’ve almost never been to his company, my hours at the hospital too long and Grayson always volunteers to come for lunch a few days a week anyway. He hadn’t been around for two weeks now.

Perhaps I've become codependent, maybe he coddles me way too much, but something is different and I'm hoping it's about our jobs and not about his feelings shifting, a familiar fear creeping in - he wasn't the type to stay with one girl for long, so what if my time is up?

Could I ever say goodbye to Grayson?

Shaking my head, I remind myself how important communication is and how I fucked up the last time I allowed out relationship go down a rabbit hole - maybe there's an explanation for this too?

Chewing on the inside of my lower lip, I roll my eyes and set aside my pride like he has done for me so many times before. Dialing his number is easy, but the wait for him to pick up is what makes my eyes water.

Grayson always picks up before the third ring, I'm on the eighth now.

And when he does pick up, I realize it's not him.

"Sorry hon, he's busy with me."

Eyes wide, breath caught in my throat, I try to speak but the line is dead before I muster enough bravery to move my lips.

Slapping a hand over my mouth trying to hold back a sob, I realize how unnecessary that action is as my throat closes with emotions shaking my entire being.

There has to be some explanation for this. I should have some faith in him after everything we've been through, right?

Fear, hate, anger, anxiety, love, sadness, an insurmountable amount of emotions and thoughts overwhelm me, dragging me through the past and every time I was told I simply wasn’t enough – pretty enough, smart enough, ambitious enough, creative enough, sexy enough – all of the times I was reminded over and over again that no one would love me, especially not someone as grand as Grayson who can certainly replace me in a moment’s time and I’d be left on the outside looking in, seeing his many girls on the front pages of every tabloid which would slowly kill me.

I want to wash my brain in cold water, cool the whole thing but I can't. I want a coffee but the caffeine will put me over the edge.

Regardless, I find myself dialing Ethan's number, seeking advice. If anyone would be honest with me, Ethan Grant surely would even if Grayson is his brother.

Does the truth imprison us, or does it set us free?

One thing I know for sure, the truth can hurt. Especially when the truth bears what can break a heart in half.

But I have to know.

3rd person POV

"Who was that?" Grayson frowns as he sees his assistant put down his phone, wondering why would she answer his personal cellphone when it isn't in her job description.

"Wrong number." Smirking slyly, she revels in the world of pain she was certain she caused to the woman on the other side of the line, enjoying it as much as she's enjoying the way Grayson pulled his sleeves up, accentuating his biceps.

Licking her lips, she watches as he sits in his chair, exhaustion in every line of his face and she can't imagine a better moment to make a move she had been planning for a few months now. Sliding over to him, she wasted no time in moving her ass onto his lap, her lips hungrily covering his.

"Bro!" Ethan busts inside, worked up after hearing from a clearly upset Y/N, willing to reassure her it's only a misunderstanding but when he sees a woman in his brother's lap and her mouth on his, one of the women he remembers from Grayson's past? That's when Ethan loses it.

Grayson is quick to push her off and on the floor mercilessly, growling as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand, but Ethan has no patience, slamming the door behind him with enough strength that it breaks the tinted glass, shattering it all the way to the woman's floored ass.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Ethan screamed, not even flinching when he feels a piece of glass graze his left forearm, the cut superficial. He’s red in the face, his eyes narrowed and if looks could kill, Grayson and the pathetic excuse for a woman would need CPR.

Gripping the woman by her shoulders, Grayson sets her back on her feet, the pressure of his hands on her enough to leave a mark. Shaking her like a doll, he gets in her face, spraying spit as he makes his intentions clear.

"I am a taken man and if you ever, EVER, try that again, I will have no mercy. Understand that?" Shaking her again until she managed to mumble a clear YES, Grayson pushed her toward the door.

"What the fuck are you looking at?!" Grayson screams in outrage, his eyes set aflame with ruthless self-loathing shimmering under the surface. His rage had always made men cower in fear, but never Ethan.

He wasn’t calm either, willing to spill blood for every tear Y/N shed and while he could easily start an altercation, Ethan realized violence begins violence and he can’t turn on his own blood. Not while they’re still so vulnerable to the criminals that want them both dead.

Apparently, no one is happy to let a gang disband without bloodshed and they’ve both been working overtime to make sure that doesn’t turn into a new gang war where their loved ones would be at risk. To be honest, Grayson has been overbearing and Ethan was wearing thin, but they have to find a solution before they end up burying their mother or sister, Y/N or even each other.

"Y/N called me in tears asking if you're cheating on her and I promised you'd never do that. Was I wrong brother?" Asking calmly, Ethan surprised himself with his poise. If he could, he'd at the very least land a few punches, damage the pretty boy look Grayson attracts attention with, but he realized Y/N might not want that.

Even if he transgressed, she’d want Grayson unharmed. She’s that kind of a soul – innocent, naïve and untouched by the madness surrounding her. And she hasn’t been quite the same since the ball but Ethan noticed her getting back to who she was when they first met her at that shady club.

She is his sister now and he can’t stand the thought of what pain this might cause her.

"No. She kissed me and I ended it as soon as I could. Y/N doesn't have to know." Grayson decides, his head a chaotic explosion of fear, anger and frustration - fear of losing the only woman he ever loved, anger over the way he was completely unaware of the situation and frustration because he's clearly not as scary as he used to be and damn it, Grayson absolutely loved instilling fear in people around him. It made him feel powerful and invincible, something he gave up for a quiet future with the love of his life...something he still missed.

"I won't lie to her." Ethan says through gritted teeth, shaking his head as his fingers thread through his hair. "She deserves better Grayson." Sighing, Ethan swallows thickly. "Do better."

And while Ethan said he wouldn't lie, he called Y/N back, faking amusement.

"No worries, sis, his assistant picked up the phone and they've been working like crazy today." Pausing, he pinches the bridge of his nose as if that would wash away the shame of lies he speaks, but what good would it do to hurt her with the truth?

He is a reasonable man and bringing this up would break her heart, besides, Grayson said it's a one-time unwanted occurrence and he wanted to believe him. He needed to.

"Are you alright, babe?" He feels a familiar pair of arms slide down his chest, holding onto the hands firmly.

"Yeah. Just my brother. Same old shit." Studying her, Ethan can't help but smile at the woman Y/N hired for him just a few months ago - at first to help him after he got shot and now to help him around the office...a woman he had taken a liking to.

"Anything I can do to help?" She smirks, pecking his nose from above, implying exactly what she wanted and Ethan wasn't about to protest.

"I can think of a few things."

1st person POV

The weight finally off my chest, I smile to myself. Of course Grayson isn't cheating on me. He loves me. He does no matter how hard I found that hard to believe before.

Perhaps it's time I trust him on that.

Barely able to stand, only a few hours of sleep in a thirty-something long shift keeping me alive, I stumble into the penthouse, kicking off my sneakers immediately.

I've been tired lately, feeling queasy and faint but it's probably the long hours and worsening eating habits. I should definitely drink more water too, but admitting this to Grayson would end up with him asking me to take some time off and take care of my health but that’s not an option. I need to finish this internship so I can get a first-rate fellowship. I may be stuck in a crazy environment, but I have every intention on finishing my journey.

Groaning, I manage to find my way to our bedroom and I wonder why was I ever so stubborn about living together. I didn't want to be seen as gold digger or an opportunist, I wanted to earn my own money but after we got cornered with paparazzi in my dorm more than once, the choice was obvious. Thankfully, I graduated just in time to start an internship not too far away from his luxury penthouse, reducing the commute.

Besides, waking up next to him is better than being alone.

The moment I enter, I see something is different - a dress laid out on our bed, rose petals around as well as a bouquet on my nightstand.

Reaching for the note, I sigh, aware Grayson planned a romantic date and while I'd rather sleep and have him rub my back, I remember relationships last only if both parties contribute to its growth and for a few months, neither of us did our part.

I can't be the one to say no.

'An exquisite dress for an exquisite woman. Put this on, doll and meet me up on the roof'

Smiling, I shake my head lightly, feeling my heart skip in my chest because even if I am about to faint, the gesture is incredibly sweet. The dress is even better - the one I had my eye on but refused to even try - red as blood, back open and lacy sleeves down to my elbows.

Managing to push my swollen feet into heels a size too big for me even now, I force my legs to take the few stairs toward the roof, a smile upon my weary lips. The wind pushes my unkempt hair back, revealing a faint scratch just below my ear that I earned in the ER.

"You look magnificent. As expected." Grayson's compliment makes me look away, smiling at the ground. It's impossible not to blush when a man of his caliber tells you how amazing he believes you look.

Pecking my lips, Grayson's finger lifts my chin, gracing me with one of his disarmingly charming looks.

"Don't go all shy on me now." His smirk is devilishly handsome and now I understood how the devil cheats humans out of their souls. It's not hard to fall for a smile like that.

"I missed you." Smiling back at him, I allow him to lead me to the table he set for us, devouring the food with my eyes already.

"And I love you for this food. I'm starving!"

3rd person POV

As soon as dinner ended and the conversation became rather nostalgic, Y/N couldn't help her smile as Grayson dedicated himself to her. It’s exactly what she’d been craving, worried that their romance might be wavering after the time they had to each other.

Holding her hand, his fingers brushing her knuckles, Grayson leans his forehead on the back of it, drawing a deep breath before letting out a heavy sigh.

"You're scaring me." Y/N giggles nervously, her right leg bouncing on her knee, making it a little uncomfortable since her heel keeps slipping off thus reminding her she really needs to buy a new pair - one that actually fits and on a day Grayson is too busy to come along. Shopping is a nightmare when the big bad CEO ex mafia boss that is also known as Hellhound joins because she refuses to let him pay for it all but he always insists.

"Do you know how it feels to love you?" Grayson asks, a rhetorical question from what she can tell and he's quick to continue, confessing all that's in his heart.

"It's a consuming, fiery passion." Smiling, he tilts his head ever so slightly to his left shoulder.

"It's a need, a primal drive to protect you, make you laugh and... well, I'm not going to sugarcoat this doll, but an essential desire to give you pleasure." Raising an eyebrow, Grayson licks his lower lip, leaving it shining under the candlelight, rendering Y/N speechless.

She's already trembling, confused with his current emotional gushing. It's not like she's unused to his love proclamations, it's that she can feel it in her bones that this one means something more than all the ones before and after the recent scare and fill of self-doubting, Y/N wasn’t keen on more surprises.

"Gray", she starts softly, worried it would discourage him or somehow hurt his feelings.

As soon as she tries to interrupt, Grayson interjects again, determined to finish his speech.

So, when he stands up and smirks at her widened eyes, Y/N only grew more confused and a little frightened when he suddenly dropped on one knee, opening a tiny box with a stunning, flower themed sapphire ring.

"You've given me hope, something to fight for, a reason to live. You've made me happier than I believed is possible and you've reminded me of what it means to be human. You make me want to be a better man." Swallowing thickly, he noticed she's barely blinking, perhaps in shock with his unexpected proposal, but he couldn't ignore how he feels and what he wants.

And he wants her.

He wanted Y/N to look at him with love in her eyes from the moment he first saw her in that tacky bar, he simply couldn't wait any longer. "You...you're everything - fun, thought provoking, caring, independent and merciful and exceptionally tactful when need be. You're spring and you're summer and you're a woman any man would be lucky to call his."

Lips parting, Y/N tries to speak, to articulate anything that she knows she feels in her heart for this incredible man, but she can't. All she can think of is the why. Why is he, a man who said dating wasn't even his thing, a man who struggled to open up for the longest time is now proposing?

She couldn't help but feel it's to appease her, but that only made her sad. She didn't want him to appease her nor did she want to succumb to society norms. She loves him, he loves her, so why complicate things?

Besides, how can she ignore the unwavering doubt in her mind? Ethan swore it was a false alarm, but her heart told her something is wrong – a sudden romantic gesture of this magnitude is suspicious, isn’t it?

"Will you marry me?" The hopeful look in his eye dwindles almost immediately when she reaches out and closes the box.

"No." Standing up, she throws the rags onto the table, her arms fold over her chest.

"We don't need to get married to love each other and be together, okay?" She could tell by the way his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together he felt a little humiliated, but she couldn't allow him to entirely change his view on life and love to make her happy and she was certain he wouldn't ask otherwise.

In fact, she was certain he’s using this proposal to hide something she’s not supposed to know and an affair was currently on her mind. She couldn’t accuse him; she didn’t want to. But she needed to make sure the motive behind his proposal is love, not guilt.

"But I want to." Grayson stood, willing to argue on this but he could tell she's not ready and while he didn't understand why, he realized he will have to wait a little while longer.

Maybe she is right, maybe this is just his guilty self-consciousness pushing him into proposing and officially claiming her as his...most of all, allowing her to claim him as hers.

"I really do. But if you're not ready I will wait. As long as it takes." Noticing his flushed cheeks and desperation laced in his voice, Y/N caved…a little.

“Can I think about it?” And while it wasn’t even close to the definite YES he expected, Grayson had to settle for a maybe, regardless of the way it tore his heart to bits. Yet he felt this is much better than the reaction he’d get if he came clean.

Being with her is all he can ask for and he wasn’t ready to give up on her, on them. And maybe he should have told her the truth about everything, she’d probably be understanding, but he couldn’t be sure. He had put her through so much shit that Grayson feared she had too much and would use the latest troubles as an excuse to finally do what he fears the most – walk away from him.

They laid in each other's arms, holding on with a sense of uncertainty - Y/N felt guilty for making him believe she needed him to change, about the sordid lack of faith she has in him and Grayson felt guilty about the kiss he kept from her.

When he opened his eyes the next morning, Y/N was already gone, just a note left about being paged early even though she was supposed to have a day off. He planned to use that day to spend some time together and rebuild their relationship he just realized isn't as unbreakable as he thought before.

1st person POV

Days passed and Grayson never mentioned the proposal again. In a way I was grateful because dealing with a stomach flu and that night wasn't easy. Though he stayed quiet, I knew he was going back to old habits - using sex to change my mind.

It wasn’t difficult to understand Grayson is angry with me and my decision or lack there of. His usually sweet caress had become hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving me against a wall hungrily, as if he’s trying to make me see that without me he’d be nothing more than this – a rampant animal out for blood even when he loves the one he hurts.

Unfortunately for him, I’m not a dainty little snowflake. He made sure of that. I can do both soft and angry and even if he tries, he’s never that violent with me even when I ask.

And as his fingers dig into my hips, I find myself thrown on the bed, enjoying the look in his eye as he takes me in – lips plump, almost bruised, cheeks crimson and desire behind my lustful gaze – something I practiced in front of a mirror but never knew if it works until he laid on top of me, keeping his body weight off just barely – he wanted me to feel dominated, trapped even, but his kisses, as always, melt away from that fiery, blinding passionate rage.

They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, his hips meeting mine in a slow rhythm, allowing every inch of him to fill me to the brim and he wanted me to feel that. His lips are slow until they’re out of energy and parted, until we are left just lying there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

Blowing a few of my hairs off my neck, Grayson settled in the crook with a plagued look in his chestnut colored eyes. I could sense something is tormenting him, a secret he keeps and I’m not exactly talkative either. I’ve never asked him about the girl that picked up the phone…I’ve rarely been to his office at all.

“How are things at work?” Sliding my hand over his forearm, I can sense the sharp intake of breath through his nose and while it would be far too easy to just ignore it, the fact I could surely pinpoint his lack of verbal communication created an unsettling feeling in my stomach.

Pecking my shoulder, Grayson spoke – his voice oddly cool as if nothing happened moments ago and I am once again reminded Grayson isn’t just any guy I met off the street – he used to deal with people much scarier than his curious girlfriend.

“A lot of work but it’s been wonderful. The transition is going smooth and while there are a few minor issues to deal with, the company is officially legitimized and honest.” Lying is easy for him and that scares me. Maybe he’s not lying to my face, rather omitting the truth but isn’t that just as bad?

Waves of nausea force me to sit up, feeling my mouth salivating as bile rises at the back of my throat and I’m running before I even know what is happening, running to keep myself from ruining the ridiculously expensive rug Grayson splurged on a few months ago.

Sinking to my knees, retching until only clear liquid was coming up. My stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out but the hand on my back and forehead keeping me from falling face first into the toilet kept me earthed. I could only imagine how my face looks, white and dripping bile, sweat, and tears.

“Can you leave? I don’t want you to see me like this.” My voice is hoarse and the pungent stench invaded my nostrils and I heave even though there is nothing left to throw up. My throat feels sore from the stomach acid that was layering it and my mouth tastes of vomit.

As if he could read my mind, Grayson quickly flushed the toilet and helped me lean back against the wall, rushing to fill a glass of water to help me rinse this horrid feeling out of my mouth.

I can’t remember the last time I got sick like this and I certainly can’t remember someone being there to help me and while I wanted him to leave initially, I was so grateful he decided to stay.

“You scared the crap out of me.” Sheepishly admitting to it, Grayson presses his lips together, looking ahead than at me. “You’re seeing a doctor first thing in the morning.” He adds and I scoff, giving him a quick glance.

“I am a doctor. Sort of.” Chuckling, I lean my head on his shoulder, hoping I’m not smelling like a combination of sweat and vomit, but hey, we both need a bath after what we’ve done an hour ago. Besides, making him worry won’t do him much good. There are more pressing matters he needs to dedicate himself to.

“Still. Doll, I never want to risk your health or wellbeing. Okay?”

“I’m aware which is why I know I’m fine and this was just a fluke.” I lied. This is more than just a fluke and the nausea has been going on for a month now, I just never actually had to throw up. And I understand why. My period’s late, long enough to make me fairly certain of what I plan on confirming in the morning – I’m pregnant.

I never understood how women miss their pregnancy for so long, how they don’t notice not having their periods or any other pregnancy symptoms but after everything – thinking we might die, Ethan being shot, starting this internship and then the worry about how solid our relationship is, I just assumed it was late due to stress.

I don’t think that’s the case anymore and I know I have to be more responsible now when I suspect it.

Hands folded in my lap, I interlock my fingers for comfort. Imagining this moment in the past included Grayson, excited and asking me if I'm okay about a hundred times, but never could I imagine being alone, asking a colleague for discretion after having my blood taken.

The thought of being pregnant is daunting, especially at an uncertain time for Grayson and I - another thing I never imagined happening. If anything, I could swear we finally got our happy ending. We were supposed to be stupidly in love while working toward our goals, being a power couple. Instead, we got separated by our schedules, seeds of doubt planted in this time where we were supposed to be stronger than ever.

Is the thought of having a gun held to my head just to have Grayson back too crazy? Probably.

"Hey." Looking up to see the nurse holding a paper in her hand, one I'm sure has answers to my questions and if her smile is anything to go by, the news are supposed to be happy. "Congratulations Y/N. If you need anything, just ask."

For a moment my heart stops, feeling it sink at the thought of telling Grayson and have him be anything but happy. But I am. I am elated.

Placing a hand over my stomach, a smile creeps up on me, spreading until my entire face lights up and I can't help the cheerful giggle escaping me.

"I'm gonna be a mom."

3rd person POV

Standing in front of his windows, looking down at New York with a pensive smile, Grayson thought about how he needs to step up. His first attempt at a proposal failed, miserably, but he wasn't planning on giving up.

She means too much to him to ever give up on her.

The way she said no told him there is more to the story. It was painfully obvious she loves him with all her heart but Grayson wondered what would make a woman in love refuse a proposal.

"Bro, we have a huge problem." Ethan's out of breath, stepping beside his brother with mouth open, still heaving. "And when I say huge problem, I mean a massive, colossal fucking problem."

Looking at his brother, Grayson's jaw clenches with resolve because the blood on Ethan's face is speaking volumes of their issue.

No matter how often he tried to tie up loose ends, it turns out it's nearly impossible to entirely pull out of a decades long criminal history.

"Who the fuck is it?" Fists tights at each side, Grayson's face hardens and his lips press together as Ethan sighs.

"We don't know yet. It's a paid hit, that's sure." Wiping the blood of his bottom lip, Ethan smirks. "But I intend to find out who hired him and I plan to do it the hard way." Raising his eyebrow mischievously, revealing a side of him that's usually dormant but it's awake now and Grayson already knows this would be a fine line to walk on. "You in or what?" Ethan's snarkiness makes Grayson roll his eyes as well as his sleeves.

"I actually liked this shirt." But then again, Grayson is worse than Ethan could ever be and he was about to make that man regret the day he was born. Grayson ‘CEO’ Dolan was gone and Hellhound took over.

"Oh well, I'll buy another one." A cold smile upon his lips, he reverts back to the man he was and he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

1st person POV

Chewing on the inside left corner of my lower lip, I knew this anxiety wouldn't be good for the baby. Isn't it odd how quickly a mother starts to love her child? Even before it's a formed human being the love is so great you can't put yourself first.

I'm already daydreaming of the day I get to meet my baby, to hold it and see it looking back at me with Grayson's eyes. I'm imagining all the things we'll do together and all the ways this baby could change the world.

Drawing a deep breath, I close my eyes and smile, resting my head on my propped up hand and make a choice - I have to tell Grayson and no matter how he reacts, I will not be hurt by it.

If he wants nothing to do with us, I will survive.

Dialing his number, I tap my nails against the metal table in the canteen. Waiting for him to pick up seemed as fruitful as waiting for rain in the Sahara Desert.

Rubbing my forehead, I sigh and lose a little bit of my resolve before realizing I'll have to call his office instead.

"Dolan enterprises, who am I speaking to?" The gentle, feminine voice on the other side of the line makes me tense up, recognizing it immediately. Isn't this the same voice that picked up that night I had nearly lost my mind and frantically called Ethan, weeping as if someone had died? It's the same voice that made me doubt Grayson and the doubt never quite left me despite Ethan's reassurance.

"Y/N Y/L/N. Mister Dolan is expecting my call." I cringe at the mister part, especially since I use it way too often in a sexual manner in private.

"Oh. Well, I have no record of that. Beside, mister Grayson is a very busy man. He has no time for frolicking whores." And the next thing I hear is her hanging up on me, the line going silent.

Looking at the phone in shock, I hold onto it with a death grip. The nerve this bitch has is definitely irking me. I'm most certain she knows who I am and this disrespectful behavior is going to get her a slap - a bitch slap for a bitch.

Gritting my teeth, I let out pent up air through my flared nostrils. Usually, this sort of thing wouldn't leave a dent - perhaps I thought we were stronger than that before but now? Now when I can tell he's keeping secrets and lying to me? It's impossible not to question everything, and that doubt is exactly what breeds jealousy, possessiveness and utter hatred for the woman picking up MY MAN's phone.

3rd person POV

The last thing Y/N expected is to come home before Grayson, a little after three past midnight, courtesy of a chain car crash. What she expected less is to have him come up to their penthouse few minutes after with his normally white shirt drenched in blood.

Swallowing thickly, Y/N tried her best not to lose her mind over the sight, walking toward Grayson who looks like a deer caught in headlights. He hoped she'd be asleep by now, giving him a solid chance to hide his extracurricular activities he never wanted her to find out about.

Yet, he can't seem to find it in himself to lie to her. He's not ashamed of who he is or who he was. He's not ashamed of those he killed to protect his loved ones, her included.

She knew who he is when they fell in love. She loved him when he was drenched in blood as much as when he was picture perfect, her prince charming...from a much darker fairytale.

"Doll, I..." Before he could make an excuse or apologize, Y/N interjects, her hands cupping his scruffy, bloodied cheeks, her eyes boring into his bloodshot ones.

"Are you okay?" That's all she cared about. She didn't give a shit whose blood is on him, as long as it isn't his or any other Dolan's.

She's not supposed to condone his behavior, she's not supposed to blindly accept the fact that he made her a promise and he just broke it, yet she wanted him safe more than she wanted to safeguard her beliefs. More than she could focus on the future well being of the heartbeat under hers.

"Yeah." Grayson nods faintly, managing a weak smile for her sake but also in admiration. If it were any other woman, he'd be arguing right now, but it's not. It's Y/N, his doll, his soulmate. She simply takes his hand, as gory as it is and leads him toward the bathroom.

Sitting him down on the toilet, she works on unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it off his perfectly chiseled body. His eyes are fixed on her face and tired eyes, realizing she may not be screaming at him but this - him and his choices are wearing her thin. She's fading and he's doing nothing to help her and that makes his chin tremble, making her glance at his lips.

It would be easy to ignore it, to ignore him, but she couldn't ignore the desire to kiss his plump lips, the very lips that signify both heaven and hell to her.

Grayson stands, his fingers hooking the bottom of her shirt, pulling it off with ease, especially since her hair is up in a fish braid as it always is when she's at work.

Leaning in, his forehead rests upon hers, noses brushing as he waits, giving her a chance to bail, to choose if kissing him now would compromise her sanity. And it would. She knows that her sanity is compromised either way, which is exactly why she kisses him, giving him a hard and needful, so incredibly emotional kiss that it used up every last bit of oxygen in Grayson's lungs and he smiles against her lips because she is the only woman that has ever been capable of making him lose his breath. No one ever came even remotely close until she came into his life and claimed him hers for the rest of his life.

"Take your pants off." She commands, slipping her own off along with her panties in one try, walking into the shower without looking back.

She knew he would obey.

Starting the water, she smiles when she feels his hands on her hips, swiftly turning her back to face him in all his glory.

Her hands gripping his forearms, Y/N uses the chance to pull him under the running water, rubbing the blood off him carefully without making eye contact.

The blood pooled around their feet, making Y/N wonder if this is the rest of her life - consuming passion and cleaning the blood off him, no questions asked because she might not like the answers.

She couldn't deny the lure of darkness, of loving a man who is capable of horrific acts that seems to care for her more than anyone else in the world.

Grayson could see the wheels in her head turning, overthinking as always and once again, it is his fault. So, he does what he always does when he wants her to stop thinking - he slams his lips against hers, his left hand at the back of her neck and right one delicately sliding down her back to grip her ass.

“You’re so perfect.” He whispers against her lips, pushing her back against the cold tiles behind them.

“Really?”

A growl escapes him as if her words anger him. His hands leave her ass and move to her stomach. His lips finding hers in a rough kiss. One of his hands move lower, fingers playfully flicking over her clit before he pushes a finger inside her.

“Really.”

She moans softly at the feeling of his oddly cold fingers in her warm folds. Grayson pushes another finger in and starts moving them in and out at a slow rate.

“Faster”, Y/N moans impatiently, bucking her hips against his hand. Moving his hand faster coaxes soft moans that spill from her lips.

“Tell me what you need”, Grayson smirks, enjoying how easily he can make her his, how even when she should be screaming at him, she’s screaming for him.

‘‘You’’, she responds, her breathing fast, shallow and unpredictably paired with faint gasps that make him shiver with his own need growing.

‘‘Be specific, doll’’, teasing, Grayson slows his fingers down.

‘‘Your dick in my pussy’’, she groans with irritation, gripping his hips as if it would make him stumble into her. Yet, Grayson grins at her and his kisses grow sporadic as his hands grip his length, carefully holstering her up.

Pushing inside, he can’t help but snicker at how wet she is and how easily he fit this time around. He’s loving the ego boost, knowing she craves him with all her being and she’s taking him so well.

However, neither of them can focus too much on anything but the arising orgasms and while Grayson tries to keep a steady rhythm, celebrating every moan and pant passing her glorious lips, he can sense her clenching around him before he’s quite there.

Holding her in place until the aftershock waves pass her body, Grayson litters her neck with tender kisses.

“Let me go.” She orders, her voice a little shaky and while Grayson wanted to hold her a while longer, not even in a sexual manner, he obeys. Assuming she’s leaving, Grayson shuts the water off only to raise his eyebrows when she goes to her knees.

“Didn’t really think I’d leave you high and dry, did you?” Smirking, her hand grabs a hold of his base and slowly sucks the tip into her mouth.

Looking up at the amused man through her eyelashes, she takes more of his hardened length in her mouth. She never really saw the point of blowjobs, especially watching it on porn where it looked like every girl acted as if they’re eating the most delicious treat and would gladly choke on a guy’s dick, but with Grayson, she came to realize it’s not about the act or about it tasting good – it’s about how badly you want the other person to be puddy in your hands, how even a man as powerful as Grayson will resort to begging when she’s edging him to the brink of insanity.

It’s about power, about pleasure and most of all, it’s about love.

“Y/N”, he moans, grabbing her hair before pulling on it. She glances up at him coyly and he grunts, nearly coming because of the mere sight of her.

‘‘Doll’’, Grayson moans, bucking his hips into her mouth.

“I am going to cum”, he warns in an attempt to pull out, letting go of her hair but she holds his hips firmly, allowing him to come into her mouth, swallowing every last drop.

Panting, he stares down at her as she wipes her plump lips, unable to let the moment pass him by. She’s everything he ever wanted. "Marry me." His words make her choke on her own spit, her eyes widening.

"You're asking me while I'm literally on my knees in front of you? Was the orgasm that mind-blowing? Is it because I swallowed?" She continued berating him with a coy smile, taking his hand on her way up, allowing her hands to travel his body with care, teasing him with her fingertips fanning across his skin.

"Ah, maybe?" He chuckles, groaning as her lips connect with his collarbone only to grunt when her teeth come to play and she nibbles on his skin.

Realizing he won't get anywhere with her if she keeps on working him up, Grayson pushed her lightly, enough for her to pout but understand he means business.

"Seriously though. I asked you once and you told me you'd think about it, but can you honestly imagine a day where we aren't together?" And he made perfect sense, she knew that. But ever since she nearly died...more than once, Y/N wasn't sure about anything in her life except Grayson and she loves him, so much so she can't breathe when he's gone for too long but marriage? It still didn't seem like something he wanted nor needed.

If she is being completely honest, she's still scared he's only asking to please her, to make her happy, not because he wants to be a husband, or that he might resent that down the line.

And most of all, she’s terrified of him doing this to cover up he cheated on her. Something she’s been agonizing over that for a while, trying to have some trust in him. He’s earned that much.

"No, I can't imagine a life without you. But that doesn't mean we have to get married, Gray."

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously at her, Grayson scoffs. "You really don't want to marry me, do you doll?"

"I do. But the thing is, are you asking because you can't imagine not marrying me or because you think I won't be with you if you don't? Because that piece of paper means nothing to me if it's pressuring you to do something you aren't comfortable with. I love you too much to do that to you." Holding back some of her concerns, she finally leaves the shower with a little help from the naked specimen before her.

"I'm doing this because I want to marry you, doll. I want to be your husband, to be yours in every possible way."

"Sure you're ready to part with that bachelor title?" She cocked an eyebrow, smirking at him as her hands form a protective circle around him, pulling them closer together.

"I've been ready since I met you."

Maybe telling him she’s pregnant won’t be such a disaster after all.

Watching him run into their bedroom, Y/N follows with a new wave of certainty. He loves her. She loves him. Any of the doubts her mind created are likely due to her insecurities and she was done letting them drive her insane.

For the first time in forever, her mind was clear and she was happy to give her hand to Grayson, watching him slip on the ring officially with no regrets.

“Can we talk though?” Y/N draws a shaky breath, hoping to finally shed some light on the second fear.

“Always.” His comforting reassurance made her smile, but her heart quivers in fear.

“Did you cheat on me with your assistant?” Holding his gaze, she notices a slight shift in his pupil, lips parting.

“No. Kerry works for me. That’s all. Why…Why would you think that?” It’s not the best solution – lie right as he put a ring on her finger, even worse to make her feel guilty for asking, but Grayson panicked and he needed the suspicion gone. All this time, he assumed he was in the clear after Ethan said he lied about it after all, but he never once realized it was eating away at her.

“Maybe because she keeps messing up our lunch dates? Or how when I call I’m suddenly called a frolicking whore or how when she picked up your phone she said you’re busy with her and it didn’t sound like it was work kind of busy and I might be overreacting but I swear that woman makes my blood boil and I want to break her like a twig. You trained me! I could do it!” Rambling, Y/N started to laugh at her own jealousy, especially when she realized she’s arguing while they’re both naked. In fact, they just got engaged naked and if anything, Y/N surely couldn’t ever think they’re normal or boring.

Pulling her closer, Grayson kisses her temple. “I promise Kerry isn’t an issue. I’m devoted to you. So, don’t worry. I’ll deal with her myself.”

But happiness can never last forever. In a week’s time, exactly on the day the pair planned to escape their duties for lunch and longer, Y/N was ready to share the news with Grayson. She was prepared to tell him he’d become a father in about six months or so and she was even more excited to see the confused look on his face when she takes him to the doctor’s with her, allowing him to see the baby and connect the dots himself.

But, that didn’t happen. As always, when one makes plans, destiny sure loves to fuck with them.

"Kerry, can you please let Y/N know I'll be a few minutes late for our lunch date? Just let her into the office." Grayson smiles at his assistant, his eyes bright as they always are when Y/N is on his mind and while he would kill, literally, to be there on time, she's the very reason why he can't do that anymore. He can't be that person and love her at the same time. She deserves better than that. She deserves the man he's trying to be. The man only she brings to the surface - someone he's proud to be.

"Of course." Kerry returns his smile, a little wider, her eyes unblinking as they always are when he's around - filled with emotions Grayson never gave any fuel to. She watched him leave, her grin reduced to a wicked smirk as he disappears behind the corner, just in time for Y/N to arrive.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't have an appointment with the boss." Fake pleasantries and smiles never fooled Y/N, though she struggled to understand what exactly made Grayson so certain Kerry isn't an issue.

Ever since she met the snake, well, talked to the snake, Y/N was painfully aware of her attempts to drive a wedge between her and Grayson and the worst part? He's either too daft to see the truth or he's willing to drag her through hell for another woman.

"I don't need an appointment to see my boyfriend…Well, fiancé." Y/N remarks, folding her arms across her chest, glaring at the blonde before her with confidence she's having difficulty maintaining.

Kerry is breathtakingly gorgeous, incredibly well built and perhaps part of the issue stems from the fact that Y/N still can't understand why a man like Grayson would ever settle for her. Because she truly didn't know if someone like Kerry would eventually make him see how plain she truly is.

"Either way, he's not in his office. Something about a lunch date with his new client. Feel free to wait around." Chuckling, Kerry smirked, her words dripping with venom.

"Be more pathetic than you already are. Because in the end, he will come back to me." Clicking her nails against the solid wooden desk before her, Kerry bore a sly smirk, almost victorious once she realized Y/N is clueless and she finally has something to hurt her with.

"He didn't tell you. Did he? How he used to fuck me. Or how he kissed me recently." Raising her eyebrows, expecting tears and maybe even a full breakdown, Kerry wished she could take a picture for gloating.

Y/N stared at her for ten seconds, maybe more, holding her breath in order to hold back her anger, disappointment, and most of all tears. She couldn't afford to show weakness, not even in front of the secretary. Grayson might not be the scariest person in New York anymore but she couldn't allow any trace of emotion show. Perhaps it's all she went through with Mikhail or the Serpents, but she had hardened, her face remaining impassive even in the face of certain death so what is just another woman who plays with her claws.

"That's the key difference." Y/N smiles coldly, stepping closer to the desk with an air of confidence around her - fake it till you make it, she thought.

"He fucked you but he makes love to me." Planting both her palms flat against the desk, leaning closer to the woman who is hell bent on making her relationship crumble and she speaks through gritted teeth: "Get in line bitch, before I make you."

"Ahh, doll! Hope I didn't keep you waiting." Grayson comes up from behind her, placing a hand on the small of her back and she straightens up, faking a smile for Kerry before turning back on her heel, her lips finding Grayson's instinctively.

She let her frustrations free, consuming his lips shamelessly, rather unlike her in public and Grayson knew.

"Tell me you have some time for me?" She whispers against his lips, aware of Kerry's glare at the back of her head. In fact, she hoped the bitch is paying attention because if she has to stake her claim again, she'll need nose surgery. She couldn’t focus on her claims of recent events, but to learn he bedded her destroyed her.

“Actually, you have a meeting in ten.” Kerry interjects but Grayson shakes his head.

"Always have time for my favorite girl. Already took the rest of the day off." And that was an official win in her books, pecking his lips again with genuine enthusiasm.

“Reschedule Kerry. And make sure Ethan calls me back once he’s done…with his current client.” His voice is deep and authoritative, starkly different than when he talks to her. Y/N couldn't help but wonder if he purposefully speaks in a softer tone when he is with her.

Walking off with their arms linked, Grayson decided to ask about the palpable anger once they’re out of the building. So, the moment they found themselves in the limousine Grayson liked to use lately, the gloves were off.

"Want to tell me what that was about? And don't tell me nothing because I could feel you wanted to slap a bitch." Chuckling under this breath, he noticed her lips press together, her eyebrows furrowing and her gentle, warm gaze turned icy, dangerous.

"Your secretary told me you cancelled lunch and then she proceeded to tell me we wouldn't last because she's apparently so fuckable and you know that from experience." Pursing her lips, she could tell he wasn't happy with Kerry and her revelation.

"She's lying. Right?" He swallowed thickly, blinking a little too fast for an innocent man.

Avoiding her gaze, Grayson cursed at the day he took pity and allowed Kerry to be his secretary after closing his gang related business. There was no way around it, his past coming back to haunt him. No matter how hard he tries to run, to hide, it always finds away to ruin his present.

"There was a time we were friends with benefits." Admitting the truth, Grayson could see her horrified expression, the ache it caused.

"Oh my God, WHO HAVEN'T YOU FUCKED?" Grayson once admitted to an array of one night stands, she just never realized she'd be surrounded with them on daily basis.

"I'm seriously asking! How many of them do I see every day and smile kindly at while they discuss how I'll be just another girl on your list?"

"You're not another girl on my list." Grayson interjects, unaware he'd only make it worse.

"Why does she even work for you? She's been nothing but trouble since the day you hired her! She lied about our lunch date, so what else had she fucked up for us?" Shaking her head, Y/N pulls her hair back, feeling suffocated under the weight and warmth it exudes, making her sweat profusely.

"I owe her. Okay? Because when I was recklessly aiming to kill anyone who'd harm you, her brother got murdered as retaliation. Can you not understand that?" Frowning with the memory of his friend's lifeless body, Grayson let out a heavy sigh, one that reminded him of the weight he only ever feels lighten around Y/N. She was usually his cure, a medicine for all that ails him but for the first time since she came into his life, she added onto that weight.

"And that justifies leaving her in a position where she will do anything to break us up? Because if that's so, at least I know your priorities now." Turning away from him, unable to escape while driving in the back of a limousine on the highway, Y/N wished she could jump out and risk it, anything to avoid looking at him or even breathing the same air, but she couldn't. Not with a new life inside her. Not when her worst fears came true – she wasn’t his fiancée because he loves her, but because it’s convenient for him to ease his guilt.

1st person POV

“I’m pregnant.” I admit, deciding to air out all the secrets I’ve been carrying around, all the pain I’ve held inside. If he wants to end it, this is when it happens because even when I tell him news he should react to, all I get is a faint nod.

“I know. Saw the labs in your purse.” And that’s when everything comes barreling down.

Is this why he proposed? Is this why he stays?

“I wanted you to tell me on your own. I found out this morning which is why I took the rest of the day off. Thought we could go up to the garden.” But I couldn’t listen to him anymore nor his lies. The ache in my chest had torn my heart to pieces and I was so tired of holding it together, allowing a single tear to slip past my defenses.

"Grayson, I know." I frown as my voice cracks and he furrows his eyebrows. His hands are close, forming fists. His eyes focus on me, unblinking and empty as if all emotions drained from them when I spoke up, sharing what's eating at me.

"Know what?" His calm, almost political response didn't anger me like I expected, I didn't throw a fit. Instead, I simply shake my head and press my lips together, holding my breath in hope of holding back tears.

"When did you stop loving me?" Speaking is hard, especially with a growing lump at the back of my throat that's making it harder to even breathe.

My words anguish him, terrify and confuse him and I wish I could believe the sudden show of emotion but it's impossibly sad how much I wish I didn't doubt him. I wish I could trust everything he says or does, perhaps I do, but I can't allow myself to immerse in his charming, murky brown eyes again. Not when the uncertainty is gripping every inch of my aching heart.

"I didn't. I love you so, so much! Doll, I love you more than life." He speaks with such conviction, his hands quickly taking mine for reassurance. And it’s romantic and all I needed to hear, yet I can't help but wonder if that's only because I'm pregnant with his child...his heir.

Is that something I'd want for my baby? To live with a target on its back, being groomed to take over an empire their father can't seem to dismantle?

I clear my throat, fixing his fearful gaze with my softer one. "Never love anything more than life." Unless it's our baby. Love our baby more than your empire if you can't love me as much, I think but don’t say.

Wanting to do the right thing is far from doing it.

"Why did you kiss her?" I finally clarify my initial statement, because now I know and no matter what the goal was...I know and there's no going back.

"I didn't want to.” Grayson tries to clarify before I can get another word in, almost pissed I’d ever doubt him. But how can I not. How can I just ignore the signs?

“She kissed me. I pushed her off. I did everything right!" Raising his voice makes me flinch and I hate that. I hate how easily I submit when someone raises their voice and he knows that. He’s aware that’s why we talk and not yell at each other, but emotions are running high and I’m praying he’s not doing this on purpose.

"That's not the point, Grayson! The point is…why did she feel so comfortable to get so intimate? Why would she think you'd kiss her back?!" Folding my arms across my lower stomach, I try to ignore the slight ache spreading inside.

It’s impossible not to worry about the baby, if this argument is something that will cause an unfortunate event and I draw a deep breath, looking at Grayson who is shaking his head as if I’ve asked the most ridiculous question in the world, but I’ve gotten to him. His pause is simply because he is out of excuses.

"Because she's a psychopath? How should I know?! Doll, I love you."

"Don't fucking call me that!" I snap, wiping my chin to clear the spit that escaped me when the anger burst and if I could, I’d have hurt him in that moment too. I’d show him my wounds, but I stop, trying to compose myself.

Not only is my fiancé lying to me, but he’s had his brother help him cover up his deeds as well.

"Don't push me away. Don't use your insecurities as excuses to push me away and break us apart. We're supposed to be happy! Engaged and expecting!"

The audacity!

"Well, I'm not the one who lied. I’m not the one throwing your flaws in your face. Had you told me the truth or at least tried to nip it in the bud, I'd be fine with it. But you felt the need to lie, to force Ethan of all people to support your lies and I... there must have been a reason for that. You're keeping things from me and I thought it was my fault and this is the second time you've made me feel guilty for the issues that stem from your inability to communicate like a normal human being and I'm so fucking tired of it. I'm fucking tired of picking up the pieces every time shit goes down because you believe you're blameless." Looking away, I bite my lip and for a moment I wonder if I went too far. But I did mean it. All our issues come from his secrecy and lack of communication and it’s impossible not to wonder if it comes from a lack of trust too.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was never my intention to make you feel like that." Reaching for my hand, he sighs when I move it away, disgusted with him at this point.

"Does that actually matter when the result is pain? Fuck, Grayson, I thought you said it would be different now. I thought I'd be your priority for once, but it remains a verba, not res thing."

I can hardly stomach his presence, let alone touch and the pain in my stomach isn’t letting up.

“Gah!” I scream out, the sudden sharp pain making my defenses fall, revealing the vulnerability beneath as I grasp his hand, desperate to have him close.

No matter how much pain he causes, I still look to him for a cure. How fucked up is that?

"Are you okay?" His free hand braces me, holding me as if I’m made of porcelain, not steel.

"I feel like I'll be sick." I mutter, cold sweat running at the back of my neck and forehead, my hands shaking as they grip his as if he would save me. As if he would make it all better.

Shortage of breath is the first sign my pain has caused a panic inside, the thought of harm coming to the baby draining every bit of sanity I’ve got left. I'm breathing but the air just won't go in, like my lungs are caged birds. Next comes the rising panic I wanted to avoid, the dizzy feeling and the need to get low to the ground.

“Breathe.” Grayson whispers and I soon feel the car stop, the door opening and our driver giving me a look of pity – the kind I hated most of all.

"I'll help you out." Grayson all but carried me out, allowing my feet to touch the ground simply to save my pride, probably afraid I’d make him let me go if he tried anything more. Perhaps I would if the pain and panic didn’t blind me entirely, leaving me gasping, my mind spiraling as I look down in fear of what I might find. Noticing no blood, I manage a faint smile and tilt my head up to meet his dazzling, warm eyes.

Damn those eyes I love so much.

Swallowing my pride, I decide to thank him as the pain gradually subsides. Holding me close, keeping my heart beating, Grayson had managed to calm me down, my breathing synchronized with his and I realize my blood pressure must have skyrocketed during the argument and it must have caused pain.

"Tha –“, but I don’t get to say it. Not when a deafening sound of gunshots leaves me breathless. It takes me a moment to fully understand what is happening, the screams around me fading to nothingness as Grayson spins us around, his arms firmly around me as if they’re my armor.

Gasping for air, I feel the arms around me loosen, a loud thud following and the warmth disappears only for horror to take its place.

“GRAYSON!"

3rd person POV

Y/N’s scream rippled through the street, the raw intensity of her fear cracking the heart of any human close enough to hear. She falls to her knees, helpless as her fingers grip his white shirt lacking evidence any harm came to him.

Her eyes lay upon his, desperately searching for signs of life and while the driver dials 911, Y/N needed someone else. She needed Ethan but she couldn’t move, her entire body shaking violently.

“Doll”, Grayson breathes out and she no longer remembers the anger in which she told him to forget that nickname. It’s a distant memory as she sobs, her vision blurred with tears. His hand clutches her right one, forcing a smile to ease her mind but even he knows that’s impossible at this point.

“It’s – It’s”, a cough interrupts his need to comfort her, yet she knew exactly what he wants to tell her. She knows exactly what he means and it only breaks her further, especially when she notices the blood pooling under her knees – his blood – the blood he needs to survive. And she’s practically a doctor, she’s supposed to help him, but she can’t – there’s nothing she can do. She can’t even move him.

“It’s not fine! None of this is fine!” Inadvertently screaming, she wipes her left cheek with the back of her hand, pissed and so, so in love with him for trying to calm her down and give her some hope and while she can hear the sirens in the distance, he is fading right before her eyes and the terror of a thought invaded her mind – he will die.

“I don’t want to live without you. Grayson, we have so much more to do and I…I’m so sorry I didn’t accept your proposal the first time you asked!” Her voice cracks, forcing her to stop and swallow for a moment, long enough to catch a crooked smile on his quivering lips.

“I’m so angry at you Grayson Dolan! You don’t get to die if it’s not by my hand! Do you understand that?!” Squeezing her hand, Grayson’s lips part with intent to tell her he understands.

He wanted to tell her he loves her and always will and that she will never be alone even if he doesn’t survive. For the first time ever, Grayson looked up at Y/N with fear because he knew whoever did this to him was aiming for his girl and the baby inside her. Grayson Dolan, the Hellhound, the man who fears nothing found himself frozen in fear as his Y/N stood above him, almost hysterical. And he couldn’t do a damn thing. He couldn’t do more than he already did – save her.

He couldn’t hold her and make her tears dry and he couldn’t manage his last I love you nor a meek smile.

What he could do is imagine if she would be happier if he just let her go when he had the chance?

If he never came back into her life once she walked out that door?

She made him happier he had ever been, but did he do the same for her or is the danger he put her in by loving her worth it? She could have done all the things she wanted to without him holding her back and yet she stayed. She stayed and loved him so well he actually saw a future past the life he was born into.

She’d be happy without him, he knew it. Maybe happier than she ever was with him, but he was too selfish to allow it, too possessive to imagine another man’s hands upon her.

She isn’t happy now, he’s certain of it. The tears in her eyes tell him that and all he wishes is to take back what he said in the limo, to remind her how they were and not their last day of screaming…of blur.

Eyelids growing heavy, Grayson’s smile fades, praying she find happiness she deserves once more.

All that he kept thinking throughout their whole flight is it could take his whole damn life to make it right because he knew he had wronged her. They had gotten through so much worse than this before and he wondered what's so different this time that she just can't ignore? He could see her saying it is much more than just his last mistake and had the pain nor this shooting happened she’d have asked for some time apart for both their sakes.

And Grayson doesn't know where to look, his sight fading. His words just break and melt, there’s not enough time to ask for forgiveness. There is never enough time and he prays, for the first time in a long time, he prays for someone to save him from this darkness. All he needs is one more moment to make things right, for his last words to be of love and not a fight.

Closing his eyes, he feels his shoulders are shaking with force, realizing it’s Y/N and her attempt to keep him awake but he can’t do it, he can’t open his eyes. He can’t even hear her anymore, but he senses her hands on his face, the olive hand cream he bought her invading his senses and he’s grateful – he’s in the arms of the one he loves most – not a bad way to go for a man with his past.

“Grayson?” Y/N croaks, shaking him once more before her shaky hands grip his cheeks and her tears fall down on him as well.

She’s gasping for air that simply isn’t there. Her throat burns, forming a silent scream. The pressure inside her chest pushes forth, releasing the most hysterical cry, the screaming sobs only interrupted by her need to draw breath.

It’s a deep, primal sound, one humans are programmed not to ignore. Those who hid previously finally continued on their way, turning their heads toward Y/N, some of them even filming the scene. Caught between an impulse to help and another to stay out of bother, some simply looking for something to gather followers on Twitter, people gathered around them.

But whatever they chose their day had been altered. To be so close to such pain changes a person, even just temporarily. Their own pains come a little closer to the surface; their empathy is triggered.

Y/N can’t remember when the ambulance came, still checking his pulse – the only part of this keeping her breathing. His pulse is faint, but it’s there and she selfishly thought it’s her man fighting to stay with her.

For her.

She stepped away as they dragged him away from her, as if she wasn’t even there. Stepping up into the vehicle, she sat beside him and grabbed a hold of his hand, struggling to keep herself afloat. His hand is cold, something she never once felt in all the time she knew him and it only deepens her emotional breakdown.

It was all happening so fast, she couldn’t keep up. They got to the hospital rather quickly, taking him away from her without even giving her a chance to kiss him one more time.

Just in case.

She shakes her head at that thought, refusing to think so negatively at a time where Grayson needed hope. She needed hope too.

Pulling her phone out, she calls the one person she knew could give her some.

“Ethan?” Her hoarse voice is a dead giveaway something happened all while Ethan was in much bigger shit, blood up to his elbows after executing the last man they captured after procuring vital information.

“Who died?” It’s all he can say, realizing the answer may just kill him. He was calling Grayson minutes ago to tell him of a shooting they planned to kill Y/N in order to break him and he didn’t pick up. Shivers run down his spine as Y/N’s pause chips away what sanity he has. And it’s not much at this point.

“I need you.”

Ethan didn't think, grabbing his gun and jacket, his heart sinking at the sound of her voice. "Tell me where you are."

His assistant jumped as he barreled through the hallway, blood still fresh on his hands, a telltale sign he's losing his mind and someone might suffer for it.

"Where do you think you're going like that?" She hissed, stepping in his way confidently, refusing to buckle under his ruthless glare.

"Move." Ethan growls, his jaw clenching and his lips pressing together. He's furious, but he doesn't scare her. So, instead of moving away, she moves in, her arms wrapping around his tense body, ignoring the fact he's not returning the hug. Instead, she takes a whiff of his cologne, comforting herself since he didn't allow her to comfort him.

"I'm coming with you." Is all she says, taking her bag and his hand firmly, disallowing his near attempt at pushing her away. After months of caring for him and catering to all his needs, Selena wasn't about to abandon him when it counts the most.

Ethan wanted to thank her, to say he appreciates her kindness but the lump in his throat is too big and he fears speaking would make him crumble and he can't afford to be weak now. He can't break when he has to be the rock. So, instead of saying a word, Ethan grips her hand tighter and leads her into the company car, deciding it's best if he doesn't drive.

"Take me to the hospital." He orders the driver, turning to Selena with uncertainty in his eyes. She's trembling, he can tell, yet she's there with him - no questions asked.

Better yet, she's opening her bag and grabbing wet wipes, rubbing the blood off him meticulously to hide his crimes instead of reporting him and he never understood why Grayson was so keen on protecting Y/N before.

Truth be told, he loves Y/N like a sister and he can't imagine not having her in his life, but he finally realized the reason why Grayson loves Y/N, as selfish as that emotion is in their line of work.

Everyone needs someone to lean on and Ethan never expected to find someone he wanted as much as Selena, but in that moment he thanked his lucky stars he did. He wanted to kiss her like the moon does sea, weightless with the ability to move the deepest parts of her soul.

Ethan no longer wanted only sex and companionship, he wanted romance and vulnerability.

A faint smile appears on his lips as he shakes his head at the crazy thoughts plaguing him. Getting shot isn't always a bad thing, is it?

But reality isn't going anywhere and it weighs on him heavily.

"It's Grayson. It was a drive by shooting." Ethan tells her, noticing her pause in shock, unable to look in his eyes.

Selena lets out a shaky breath, glancing up at the tormented expression on Ethan's face and she can't help the tears forming in her eyes.

She knows Y/N and she knows Grayson and if they hadn't hired her when they did, she wasn't sure what her life would be now. She liked them, enough to make her heart ache but what made her cry is Ethan - if he hurts so does she.

And while she never thought of herself as a violent person, she discovered there is a lot more she doesn't know about herself in the past few months. Seems like Ethan is a man who is allowing her to reach into the depths of her very being, finally in tune with her own soul. So, before she comprehends it, she speaks with no remorse.

"Kill the bastard who did it."

Nodding, Ethan cracks a pained smile. "I intend to."

"Sir, we're here." The driver pipes in, ending the moment they shared effectively. Ethan had just gotten his hands clean but as he stepped out of the car, he could already tell his hands would be bloody yet again.

He didn't wait for Selena, making great strides toward the emergency room with his mind screaming at the possibility of what he might find.

He couldn't breathe until his eyes find Y/N, swallowing thickly as he sees the state she's in. Her hands are folded in her lap, bloody as are her legs. There is no light in her once bright eyes, the dash of spring her usual smile brings now turned into a harsh winter chilling everyone who dares glance at her.

Black tracks on her cheeks are constantly watering down with new streaks her unyielding, sorrowful tears create. And it breaks his heart to see her so lost, so beaten down that he can't help but remember the last time he saw her in that state - the day she rushed into his arms when Mikhail was killed and that was after a long while of torture.

This seemed worse.

Much worse.

"Y/N." His voice is deep, low, as if speaking in any other way would be disrespectful, as if her pain matters more than his.

Looking up at him, Y/N's eyebrows furrow and her eyes narrow, almost as if she can't believe Ethan is there...little did he know her mind played a trick on her and the light above his head nearly made her believe Grayson had come for her.

Standing up with the last atom of her strength, Y/N throws her arms around Ethan, holding him so tight he could have sworn she wanted to kill him. But she didn't.

She closed her eyes and pretended. She pretended it was Grayson, just for a moment. She couldn't cry anymore, not in heartbreaking sobs like she did when it first happened; the tears fell silently and her lips quivered on their own.

"He thinks I hate him." She whispers, her voice raspy and emotional, putting more weight on Ethan's shoulders. "We were arguing before it happened and", letting go of Ethan, she takes a step back only then noticing Selena behind Ethan.

Glancing at Ethan, she pressed her lips together, drawing a shuddered breath.

"If there is one thing I know it's that he loves you and he doesn't doubt your love either. He'd die for you." Ethan places his hands on her shoulders, bending enough to force eye contact she avoided as if she is ashamed of what Selena heard.

But Ethan's words rattle her, only reminding her when Grayson told her he loves her more than life. She warned him not to say that. It was heartfelt, she knew that and today she saw he truly meant it.

"And that's exactly what he did today. I want to believe, E...I want to so bad but...this was different than the first time. This was different than you." Holding her breath, Y/N felt a wave of desperation flood her and her eyes brought forth faster, anguished tears that drew their force from the very essence of her pain, so much so they don't fall but crash.

"I want to know who is responsible. I want them dead." Y/N's eyes harden as she spat hate, anger taking over as her hands form fists and Ethan could see she's out for blood. He wants to act too, he does. But she can't be a part of it.

The last thing Grayson would want is his sweet Y/N getting her hands dirty.

"I'll take care of it. I already know who it is." Ethan assures her, meaning well but all it does is set her soul aflame.

"We will take care of it. This is personal."

"No, no, no. Stay here and I'll come back when it's done. I promise." Ethan insists, pushing her back when she chuckles dryly, trying to pass him as if Selena knew the information she needed, as if she could do this herself.

Speaking though gritted teeth, Y/N stepped closer. "You can take me with you or I can follow you. Really wanna risk that?"

Licking his lips, Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her stubbornness. He’s heard how it usually troubled his brother but being confronted with it wasn’t exactly a picnic.

Her eyes are red and puffy but the determination in her eyes honestly scared him. Y/N isn’t bluffing and he had no possible way of controlling her decisions. If Grayson couldn’t, how could he?

Sighing in exasperation, Ethan rubs his chin, aware this is happening and he can’t escape. Well, he could, but it would include using force and Grayson would kill him if he even tried. Hell, he’d kick his ass just for considering it even if it was just a thought.

“Selena, can you please stay and keep us informed?” Ethan glances over his shoulder at the sweet brunette, smiling when she nods. He wished to hold her, even for just a moment but the last thing he needs is Y/N telling Grayson about them after all this is done, and it would be – Grayson would live to yell at him for inappropriate work relationships again. He knew it in his heart.

“I’ll call the boys to pick up the guilty party. Let’s go.” Y/N had to run to keep up with his stride, annoyed but unwilling to nag him when he’d given her the best possible gift – revenge.

Sitting in that waiting room would have drained her entirely, the guilt eating away at her. Y/N needed to do something to forget about Grayson’s current state, to ignore the fear’s iron grip.

The drive to their usual warehouse was longer from this side of the city, giving Y/N plenty time to think. Too much time.

It didn’t take long before her mind began to remember all the things she loved and hated about Grayson.

Ever since they moved into the penthouse, she absolutely hated his habit of spending all the hot water and forgetting to warn her about it. She hated how often he’d keep her up snoring and even more how he loved to frighten her when she’d come home from a night shift. It was a constant battle to teach him to wash the dishes properly and not just throw them away saying he’d buy new ones. Same thing applies to his clothes. She also hated how meticulous he was about the way his clothes were to be folded and especially about the way he’d insist the thermostat is supposed to be.

But there are so many things she loved about him too. She loved how sweet he is, how he’d cuddle her every day even when she was too shy to ask. He’d just know she needs it and his arms would already be around her. She also loved how he’d cut up fruit for her because he knew how she loves to snack on it, or how he’d leave her hearts on the mirror every time he’d finish his showers only for her to discover them after he’d gone to work. She adored how much thought he’d put in every word, every touch, every single gift he’d given her including his unwilling attainment of a singular hoodie for them to have a sense of normalcy. And most of all, she loved how he dismantled his gang related business just to make sure they have a bright future together.

Smiling, she realized every single action he does is to make her feel safe and loved. It’s his way of telling her he loves her without a single word passing his tender lips.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she hated herself with such ferocity over her last words spoken to him in undiluted anger. Their last interaction should have been filled with love not rage.

She never quite realized it before, but she was always his greatest achievement, the one he was proud of the most and now when they were inches from their happily ever after, from becoming a real family, they took him away from her – they ripped her heart out and she wanted to repay the favor.

“If something happens to me, you’d protect her, right?” Grayson tilts his head, hoping his brother would give him some sign he’d make sure his doll would be safe even if one of his enemies take him out. He’s tried to retire and forget the world he was born into but to do so isn’t up to him. It took him a while to understand that he will never truly be retired.

Even if he isn’t a criminal anymore, they still remember him and he’s still the symbol of the undefeated gang – The house of the rising sun ruled over New York for decades and many wanted to dethrone them, unfortunately that is possible only through slaughter.

“I would. She’s like a sister to me. I’d never let any harm come to her.” Ethan responds, not even thinking about it. It’s true, his affection for Y/N is strong and platonic.

“Promise me.” Grayson demands softly, aware he shouldn’t be distrustful toward his twin but he couldn’t help but be irrational when it’s Y/N’s life at stake.

All the signs and latest assassins have made him paranoid, spending so much of his time making sure none of them ever get close to Y/N and he wasn’t sorry.

When Y/N is at stake, he’d let blood run until there’s a river flowing through the streets. She’s his weakness and yet the reason why he remains Hellhound to any with intent of using her against him.

Those who tried are all dead now.

Ethan understood, though, willing to make his brother a vow. “I promise.”

He didn’t feel like he’s upholding his promise anymore. It felt like he broke it before his brother had even died, even more when he saw Y/N reach for a gun in her purse.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ethan gave her an incredulous look, nearly having a stroke when he saw her take the safety off.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Her impassive response only made him more anxious and he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“I thought he bought you a taser not a fucking gun!” Shouting, he tried to pry the gun from her hands but he found resistance.

“He did. But I took his.” Pulling away from Ethan, she rolls her eyes at his paled face.

“He thought me how to use this as well how to fight. I’m not a damsel in distress and I’m done waiting for someone to protect me and the baby.” Opening the door, she stepped out swiftly, setting off to where Grayson once took her. Granted, he took her against his will because she demanded to know everything.

“BABY?!” Ethan’s gruff scream had made her stop, waving him over to quicken his pace.

“Yeah. Congrats on being an uncle. Well, you’re not one yet but you will be.” She chuckles and Ethan can’t help but wonder if she’s completely mad at this point.

There’s one thing to put her in danger but the baby too?

Grayson will surely kill him when he finds out.

“You’re going to get me killed.” Ethan complains as she opens the door and is found face to face with three people, all tied up and gagged. Two men she had never seen in her life and a woman.

“Fucking Kerry.” Y/N spat, walking over to her, backhanding her without remorse.

Kerry seems almost amused as she shoots Y/N a wink only sending her into a fit of rage. “You fucking bitch!”

No one dared to hold her back as Y/N screamed, throwing punch after punch, not even when Kerry’s nose was clearly broken and bleeding and Y/N’s raw knuckles weren’t much better.

Ethan grabbed a hold of her, pulling her arms behind her back seemingly the easiest way to stop her without harming her or the baby.

“I will fucking kill you!” Y/N screamed as Ethan dragged her out and away from the situation. Before the door closed, Y/N could hear three distinctive gunshots. It only made it worse.

Ethan didn’t care if she hated him, he protected her as he promised his twin. Rage often makes us do what we regret when our mind is clear once again and he knew she’d regret it eventually. Killing is never easy and someone as pure as her would be haunted by it as he and Grayson are.

“WHY?! I WANTED TO DO IT!” Her venom turned to tears and before Ethan knew it, her body shook with new sobs breaking through the surface. “I can’t do this without him, E. I can’t!” She wailed, allowing Ethan to carry her back into the car.

He cradled her like a child, holding her close, his own tears showing. They truly understood one another, their pain is the same. “Shh.” Ethan whispered, worried about the baby and the stress this day had brought. “You won’t have to. My brother is nothing if not stubborn. He won’t leave us yet.”

The two returned to the hospital, neither capable of speaking anymore. There’s nothing to say anymore, nothing to do, just wait.

“He’s out of surgery but we won’t be able to see him for a few more hours until he’s stable.” Selena explains, only then receiving a hug she craved for the entire day. Ethan’s chest had become home for her and it felt indescribably good to be home again.

Y/N watched with envy, wondering when will she be able to return to her safe place. “Can I at least see him through the glass?” Y/N pipes in, weary of interrupting them in a moment they both needed. She was happy for Ethan but she couldn’t help but be bitter about her own unhappiness.

“I’ll make it happen.” Selena promised, ducking out of there quickly, a woman on a mission and she never fails.

“You lied to me.” Y/N accuses, her tired eyes giving him a bleak look of disappointment but there is no more anger left inside her. She’s desolated and the only one who would ever make it better is unconscious in a hospital bed.

“About Kerry.” She clarifies as confusion settles. “I asked you if he was cheating and he told me they kissed…Well, she kissed him. It was obviously a ploy to separate us.” Y/N musses, fixing Ethan with her gaze and he shifts uncomfortably, feeling as if he had let her down.

“I know. I saw it happen and Grayson explained. I thought the pain would be unnecessary. Besides, her motive was to break him. She admitted it to our men who took her. She wanted him to lose you, me, the company…everything before she could kill him herself. She blamed you…and him for what happened to her brother.” Ethan explains, taking her hand in his for comfort she so desperately needs but she shies away.

“It wasn’t. Anyone’s fault, I mean. Her brother knew what he was getting himself into when he joined us and Grayson avenged his death. She used their history and her brother’s death to manipulate Grayson who is drowning in guilt, but he loves you Y/N. He’d never cheat on you.”

“I know.” She manages a meek smile, averting her eyes toward the door they took him through – the door that took him away from her.

“I lost sight of it along the way, allowed that psycho to get in my head and I’m just dreading losing him now. It’s always been my worst fear…to have him choose another or lose him to death…I guess I really need to start working on my insecurities and believe in him more.” Shrugging, she glances at Ethan who nods, ecstatic she isn’t holding his lie against him.

“But you can’t lie to me like that again, E. I love you like a brother, but lying isn’t something I enjoy. Not about the psycho bitches kissing my man and not about the obvious issues regarding his past. He’s always gonna be haunted by them, won’t he?” She tilts her head to the right, sucking her bottom lips in and Ethan realizes she’s right – it’s more dangerous if she doesn’t know.

“Yes. I don’t think we’ll ever truly be rid of them. But it isn’t as bad as it seems. Not many dare come after him and those who did have all died. I expect a long while before there’s another issue. But when it comes, we will deal with it. I promise you.”

Sniffling, Y/N offers a crooked smile in gratitude though her words are borderline sarcastic. “My heroes.”

“You can see him. Go through there and they’ll take you to him. Just gotta put on those clothes, you know that better than me.” Selena’s words are like rain after months of draught and Y/N’s legs move quickly, nearly stumbling as she rushes toward the door.

1st Person POV

Shaky legs, trembling hands, I try my best not to cry as I follow a nurse on the way to where my heart lies. It’s impossible to keep my head up high anymore, this had defeated me – today had nearly killed me.

Resting a hand on my lower abdomen, I draw a quick breath to keep my mind clear, as clear as it can be considering the circumstances. What I’m certain of is that today had the power to break me yet I’m still standing and he…he’s still breathing.

Putting on the cap and gown, I’m fast to enter his room despite what I’ve been told. No one could keep me away from him in this moment, not even death.

His skin is ashen, far too pale in comparison to his usual tan. The eyes I love so much are closed shut and while he’s not dependent on a breathing tube, his state is shocking. The ever-present smirk is gone from his lips, no more teasing or sass leaving them and that’s probably the scariest part of it all – he’s quiet, eerily so.

When we first met, Grayson was a man of few words but when he gave me his heart, his trust and undying loyalty, Grayson never really shut up and while I used to be annoyed with his incredibly long stories while I was trying to study, I’d trade everything to hear them again.

"Thank you for saving me." I murmur, delicately placing my hand on his cheek, terrified it would somehow hurt him. But it doesn’t, in fact, Grayson’s eyelids flicker, his struggle to open his eyes taking my breath away.

"It's nothing." Grayson sighs; his voice raspy, his face twisting in agony as he attempts to move his hand to encase mine.

"You could have died! It’s not nothing, Grayson! Kerry could have killed us and you protected me. You kept me safe. " Helping him, I take his hand and give it a light squeeze, the one that ensured he knew how much he means to me. He manages to open his eyes, his gaze longing and sweet, no anger about Kerry or our argument from before reflecting in his brown hues.

Grayson's lips twitch as if a smile would hurt him but he wanted to try for my sake. It's as if he found my words to be ridiculous. "Dying to save the woman I love? My child? There are worse ways to go, doll. It's the most honest thing I have done in my entire life. But next time you warn me about someone, I’ll believe you."

Turning his head so his lips would press a tender kiss upon my palm, Grayson lets out a heavy sigh. "I'd have done it a thousand times over if I had to. You mean more to me than I can say, especially with morphine making me question what's real and what's a dream."

Licking his dry lips, he succeeds and smirks. "Sometimes I worry you're just a dream. You're far too good for me."

Chin quivering, I shake my head and lean in. Resting my forehead on his as gently as possible, my nose brushing his cheek, I feel my heart clench in wake of his words. I've always felt he's too good for me, but never had it crossed my mind he might feel that he's unworthy of me.

I love him very much. More than I can trust myself to say. More than words have the power to express.

“Never. We’re just right for one another.” My whisper brings about a goofy smile on his face and I can’t help but reciprocate, holding back tears I know would only weigh on him.

“Soulmates.” He speaks as his eyes close again.

“I guess you could call it that.” I nod, chuckling, receiving no response. I lean back with a fond smile, realizing he’d fallen asleep again, his relaxed smile remaining put. “Sweet dreams, handsome.”

Grayson’s recovery had certainly been difficult, especially when I once again imposed the ‘no sex’ rule until his wounds healed. “This really isn’t fair.” He’d argue but even if I did desire him, I wasn’t as easy to break.

Another thing that bothered him greatly is being unable to return to work. Ethan had taken over the business for a while, allowing me to confiscate Grayson’s work phone thus ensuring he’d take it easy for a while. However, I soon realized Ethan had a hidden motive for doing that as it protected his secret as well. Unlucky for him, one moment in the same room with him and Selena and Grayson was up to speed.

“You’re fucking your assistant, aren’t you asshole?” Grayson whisper shouts, using the first alone moment with Ethan to chew him out.

“Literally not the bigger issue here.” Ethan chuckles, watching Grayson’s face turn red and that vein on his forehead appear only signifying his frustration.

Trying to sit up, Grayson swings at Ethan in hopes of catching him and pulling him closer to do some actual damage but Ethan maneuvers around his attempt easily.

“No fighting and no getting up!” I reprimand him from outside the room, not even pretending I’m not listening in. I mean, can you blame me?

“THIS IS THE THIRD ONE IN A ROW!” Grayson growls, already seeing the headlines once a reporter catches a whiff of the story and oh the lawsuit that would follow that could bankrupt them wasn’t far in his mind either.

“At least I didn’t impregnate anyone!” Ethan retaliates and I can’t help but pipe in, slightly offended.

“HEY!”

“Sorry sis, I’m still happy for ya!” Ethan’s apology makes me smile but it also makes me walk into the room with my arms crossed.

“He’s obviously serious about Selena and from the way she handled everything that day, I’m rooting for them. So stop being a grumpy old man and start be encouraging. Love love Gray.”

Needless to say he pouted for a few days for taking Ethan’s side in the argument, but he was still the cuddliest human being on the planet. I didn’t really mind. It had given us plenty time to genuinely talk and revise what we’ve gone through and for once, neither of us had any reservations about our future.

“I never really imagined myself having kids.” Grayson admits, quietly as if it’s a sin as he lays on my chest, my fingers threading through his hair. “I mean; this life we have now is…let’s just say the old me would never believe it’s real. I still struggle believing in it.” His hand moves down to my stomach, rubbing soothing circles over my shirt.

Smiling, I pull his hand lower where the uterus is, causing him to chuckle in the process. “I hope our baby gets your brain.” He whispers, warming my heart.

“I hope she gets your eyes.” I add and in seconds, he lifts his head and looks at me with a confused look on his face.

“She?” He questions and I shrug, running my knuckle along his sharp jaw fondly.

“Just a feeling. You’re gonna have one tough girl on your hands.” I respond, enjoying the way he pales this time around.

“I can barely handle one of you. Oh, God.” Plopping his head between my boobs, he groans once more before pulling himself up and beside me. “I love you, but I’m not sure I’ll survive this fatherhood thing.”

“You ran a gang, you still run a company. You’ll do just fine you big baby.” I remark, earning an earnest cackle.

“You’re badass. More badass than me from what I’ve heard. A force to be reckoned with. Untamed, nothing but flames.” Raising his eyebrow, Grayson leans in, his eyes undeniably set on mine wishing to lean upon them with passion and fierceness.

“Thought you liked me being innocent and all that.” I roll my eyes, dragging my tongue across my lips as if to lure him in and I can tell it’s working, his gulp and dark, piercing gaze speaks volume of it.

“I supposed I was wrong. I still love all of you – innocent and ferocious. A perfect combination.” And with that, his lips meet mine and I’m in heaven once more. The happiness Grayson invokes is infectious.

It starts as a tingle in my fingers and toes, a lot like the feeling I get when I'm anxious, but instead of worry it brings forth warmth. I feel it pass through me like a warm ocean wave, washing away the stress of my days to leave me refreshed inside. As the wave fades I savor the memory of its gentle touch. The feeling is a blissful evocation of time spent with Grayson on the beach when he whisked me away to Hawaii and we dared to dream how we’d could run away and forever be as carefree.

How I loved those days when we walked on the sand and simply talked, laughed and made silly jokes as well as the long, fiery nights filled with nothing but intimacy and pleasure. But they can continue here as well, our love can remain as strong as it was back then.

There will always be another who wants to take the crown of the Hellhound – the king of New York and I was afraid. I was terrified.

Not anymore.

Grayson is no longer the only one with a taste for blood and God help those who try to harm my family.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tags: @voidgray @dancingstardolans @love-mysterious-love @kayla20448 @purplelilac0223 @whotfiskate @yellowitsmendes @lanadeldolans @reblogdolan @graysdiabla @cuteunicorns11 @its-pickle @ancoraesisto @mutuallynotmutual @annyanns @beinscorpio @fallinginlove-16 @dxlansfxck @yazziemp3 @usdolans @bqbyyhoneyy @dolanficrecs @sugarfootdolan @heyits-claire @godlydolans @accalialionheart @lacydolans @starrydolan @g-e-dolan @kaiadolan @jeffxchella @mmmmmgd @livelongdolan @woeitsaly @stephdolan @dangerouslybitchyb @grayson-dolans-dangly-earring @sparklydonkeyhandsdeputy @hey-graysondobrik @cheepwine @smileygrayson @sadboidols @needysposts @soontobecool @r3sil3nc3 @chvrrydolan @ahoneybeing @daddygraysonsbitch @dolandolll @prettymuchdolansbitch @babyboydxlan @blueporschedolan @mindlessdolan @mmoonx @giggling-grayson @ethanhes @harryigprompt @ancoraesisto @kpoppindolans @dolansmith @mendesficsxbombay @peacedolantwins

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan series #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan angst #grayson dolan mafia au #grayson dolan mini series #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan fanfiction

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nemesism-bibliophile · 3 years

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Shadow Work Prompt - Day 14

What are you afraid to be transparent about? Does the shame come from others or yourself? List all your secrets and why you have chosen to hide this from others.

I hate acting like my dad. My ‘higher self’ starts to become conscious when I’m doing it, but then I feel myself resisting and starting to justify my actions. Scowl on my face, temper flaring, then the apologising and trying to make up for it immediately after. Even getting stroppy when Teddy and I haven’t been having sex. I immediately get resentful. I don’t want to imagine it but I expect dad is the same.

I feel bad. I thought I’d be more excited and happy about the prospect of going on holiday, but right now I’m frustrated and dissociative. How ungrateful is that? Teddy has been organising the whole trip. I haven’t been in the mood. I know I have been overly relying on Teddy for everything, and I must do better to retain independence.

A small voice whispers, a really hesitant hated voice, that I am only with him because he makes my life more convenient. That I am simply terrified of being alone. That I can’t make it on my own. That I need him. Then a larger voice tries to drown it out, to remind me why I fell in love with him. To remind me what a great person he is and how sweet and caring and witty. To tell me that every relationship goes through rocky periods and every relationship takes compromise.

Doubts about the relationship probably indicate that I don’t want to be in the relationship anymore. I suppose these doubts are a secret. It’s a secret that I still stalk my exes new relationships. It’s pathetic. I shame myself, but others would too. Why would I still care? I feel ashamed for caring enough and am terrified they know it’s me (they probably do). I am tired of seeming weak and insecure. It also delegitimises my own relationship and makes it seem like I am unsatisfied with Ted, but that has nothing to do with it. Pure force of habit is what makes me check those girls pages. It’s not even curiosity anymore, because looking at their pages brings me nothing short of boredom. I thought this year I’d managed to break away from that, but since my phone addiction has gotten bad again I’ve noticed an increase in me doing it.

Since seeing my exes friends the other day I have been so anxious. I hadn’t thought about how desperate and weird it would seem for me to hang out with them. Now I am just paranoid about seeming like a nuisance. Again, insecurity that has come from wanting to be liked and caring what people think.

Seeing them and getting paranoid about how they all feel about me made me realise that there will never be a reality where I see my ex casually (out and about) and I am able to show him I am thriving and serene. It just won’t be. What it will be, is painfully awkward for everyone involved. I think I have had to come to terms with this reality. Was I secretly hoping I’d bump into him for years? Why do I even care? I know nothing good would come out of it. Maybe I still feel guilty about the way we ended and how much was left unsaid. I thought I’d made my peace with the fact I never told him I cheated on him, or that I knew he cheated on me. The last time we spoke, he sent me a snap of the mug I got his grandma. She was still using it years after we ended. Was that his attempt at reconciliation? Since then, we haven’t spoken, but I have often wondered what he was up to.

I’m ashamed about the amount I smoke weed and my problems with addiction. It’s perhaps so obvious to everyone else but I pretend like it’s not a problem. I feel the need to carry it around with me, even if I don’t intend on smoking it, just to make myself calmer. I will work on leaving it behind and only smoking it in really special moments rather than for the sake of it.

I feel guilty about the fact I developed feelings for gym Niko. In Ted’s eyes, that’s cheating, and I promised him I never. Yes, I stopped him from kissing me and tried to draw boundaries when I realised what was happening, but was that my choice or because he seemed to pre-emptively withdraw? Teddy is too smart for me to be vocalising these thoughts. They must stay a secret in my mind, not even my mind conscious of it, so he never finds out.

I can’t write in my book anymore. Not since he peeped over my shoulder and we had that argument about gym Niko. I feel like I can’t write anything truthful. I mean a lot of the things that I want to write about is about the relationship. The journal doesn’t seem like a safe space for me to share things anymore. I resent Teddy for that. I was gaining momentum with my journaling practice and it’s been a great way for me to vent my feelings since I don’t have close friends anymore. Or rather, conversations with friends have ceased to feel comforting. The journal isn’t like that though. I am so grateful for this practice and I mustn’t allow a few obstacles to halt my progress. I was on the verge of doing something consistently for two weeks!

Wow. I started this journal entry with a pit of anxiety in my stomach and a low mood, but I feel much better now. However it has made me realise how consistent these issues have been. Over the years, the same problems keep cropping up. I need to make some personal goals to move away from this and truly evolve.

1) Take an internet break this holiday. 2) Make an effort to not be snappy with Ted. Make a note when I feel triggered, take a deep breath and count to 10 before speaking. 3) Find some time to write every day.

#shadow work #prompts

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padfootagain · 4 years

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Girl Crush (XXVI)

Chapter 26: Poppy Dream

Here we go with a new chapter!! I hope you like it!! Not gonna lie… there's a tid bit of angst in that one… I hope you don't hate me too much by the end of it though (better hope so cause it will get worse…)

I am also coming close to the end now… I reckon that I have… 5, maybe 6 chapters left, something like that. Thank you to all of you who have stayed throughout the whole thing!

WARNING for mentions of soft drugs in this chapter (Harry took mushrooms when he wrote fine line, apparently, and I used this idea here, but there is no mention of addiction or anything shocking. He’s just being an idiot, as usual.)

Word Count: 3745

Living with Gareth was great.

Lots of cuddles, and him being sweet and stealing kisses. He cooked almost every day, and you had a nice system of chores that kept both of you equally busy with the nasty tasks to do. It was smooth, and easy. It felt safe.

A little boring, you had to admit. It wasn't... exciting. You were happy to find him home when you walked inside the apartment you shared, but you didn't want to just rush to him either. You weren't eager to leave work to join him. Why not though? He was great...

After almost two months of living together, you would have expected to be more ecstatic at the idea of living with him. You blamed the fact that you had spent so many years living on your own, and it felt strange to share your daily life with someone now. You knew that it wasn't the only reason though.

But overall, you were happy, and it was nice to have him around. Your only real problem with your new home was that Harry didn't drop by unannounced anymore. He used to do it all the time before. If you were free for an evening and he knew so? You were certain that he would be on your doorstep with some take-out and a bottle of wine before 9pm.

You understood, of course. He was coming to spend time with you, not both you and Gareth, and things were different now that you didn't live alone anymore. You also reckoned that it would be a little like intruding, from his end. It didn't change the fact that you missed those evenings with him like crazy.

Which was why you were now standing on his doorstep, a bag full of Chinese food in your hand right after you had knocked a couple of times. He opened the door, looking dishevelled and wrapped in comfy clothes that made you want to snuggle into his side and stay there, tugged into his chest, for the rest of the night...

…or maybe forever.

"Y/N?" he asked with a frown, and a little bit of panic shining in his green eyes. "You're alright? What are you doing here?"

You shrugged in response.

"I'm fine. Just thought I'd drop by."

"Did you and Gareth have a fight?"

"No. I'm fine. I just wanted to spend some time with you. I brought Chinese!"

"Oh... huh..."

"H? Who is it?

Before you could process what was happening, a woman was appearing in the doorway. She was wearing one of Harry's jumpers. You noticed that it wasn't one of those you used when you came to his house though. It seemed like a new TPWK sweater.

"Hi..." she faked a smile, coming closer and placing a hand on Harry's arm, as if to show who he belonged to. "Sorry, you are...?"

You finally shook yourself, and offered her your open hand and a bright smile.

"Hi! I'm Y/N. I'm Harry's friend. Sorry to interrupt, I didn't know he had company, and I was passing by, so I thought I'd drop by. But... you're clearly occupied so... I'll leave you to it. Behave, huh?" You added jokingly, waving your finger at Harry.

"I see... I'm Gloria," she shook your hand, but her smile was toxic to say the least. "A friend... I see... you often drop by?"

"I wouldn't say often but..." you offered her another smile, and cleared the air before any misconception could be settled, and Harry would get to argue with his new girlfriend because of a quid pro quo. "Since I've moved in with my boyfriend a couple of months ago, I and Harry haven't spent much time together, so..."

Gloria seemed to immediately relax, and her next smile was earnest.

"Oh, I see! You want to come in then? I'd love to know more about you! I'm sure you can tell me so many stories about H!"

But Harry gave you the smallest shake of his head, and you got the message loud and clear.

"No, no, no! I'm not gonna intrude. Let's plan a dinner or something like that instead! That will be much better. Good night then, lovebirds!"

"Good night, Y/N! It was nice meeting you!"

You gave the couple a little wave, and turned to walk back to your car, when Harry's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Y/N?"

You turned around, unable to resist his call.

He seemed a little out of breath, you noticed. A little sad too. Maybe even a little disappointed or tortured. As if he tried to resist the urge to do something.

You couldn't know that he was resisting his urge to send Gloria away, and close the distance between you and him in a rush and kiss you under the lamppost before his house. He wondered what you tasted like... he wondered so more and more often these days, and his longing for you seemed more and more difficult to control.

He did resist though. Instead, he looked at you with desperate eyes.

"Still renovating your shop on Sunday?"

You offered him a smile, but he could have sworn it wasn't an earnest one. He could read sadness in your eyes as they shone under the yellowish streetlights.

"Sure! If you can spare the time."

"For you? Always."

"Well then... I guess... see you on Sunday!"

He nodded, unable to look away.

"See you on Sunday."

I love you was on the tip of his tongue once more, but he bit his cheek instead, until the pain made the words disappear.

You climbed in your car, aware of Harry's presence still on his doorstep. You drove off without a look back at him. You knew he was looking at you as you drove down the street, and you didn't find in you the strength to see him like this: walking further from his door and into the street so he could keep on looking at your car, in his old black jumper and his hair held into a tiny bump on the top of his head with one of the elastic bands you had forgotten long ago in his bathroom, his arms crossed before his chest, until you disappeared for good around the corner.

A couple of streets away though, you pulled over, and threw your food in a bin. You felt sick now, instead of hungry.

You climbed back into your car, resting your hands on the wheel and your head against the back of your seat. Up above, stars glimmered above L.A, undying fireflies that came back to haunt the same pieces of the sky every night. The nearby lamppost shed yellow hues in your vehicle, bathing your hands in the electric light.

It could have been a nice night, you reckoned. If only...

You didn't react when your phone let out a whistling sound. You didn't need to check the screen to know it was Harry. He would be asking something along the lines of:

Hey! Let me know when you're home, please? It's quite late already. Just want to make sure you're home safe. See you Sunday. H x

Because he was the kind of idiot who always signed his texts, and you were the kind of moron who secretly found it cute although you acted like it was annoying. And he was the kind of idiot who always worried about you when you drove at night, even if it wasn't that late yet. He just... always asked for you to reassure him that you were safe. And he was the kind of idiot who played it cool and blamed your lack of skills behind a wheel to hide the fact that he simply was always worried about you. And you were the kind of moron who still believed his lies about it.

And he was the kind of idiot who tried to forget his love for you in the arms of someone else. And you were the kind of moron who chose to push away the real reason for why you were on the verge of tears now as you sat motionless in your car, in the empty Californian street at 9pm. It was easier to blame it on how tired you were these days, than admit that your life was not getting in the direction you wanted it to go, and that every day you wished you wouldn't walk even further away from what you truly wanted...

... or rather whom.

"Wait! What do you mean you're at the HOSPITAL?!"

"Can you like… not shout?"

You took a couple of very deep breaths, trying to calm down, but so far doing a terrible job at it.

"Mitch, can you please tell me again where you are and why? Please?" you asked in a lower voice, although your voice was everything but calm.

"We're at the ER, Harry bit off his tongue."

"HOW…?!"

You took another deep breath, noticing the people in the grocery store looking at you.

"How on Earth did he bit his tongue hard enough for you to need to go to the ER?" you asked, your voice shaky.

"We were high. He jumped off the window."

"High?"

"Yeah… mushrooms."

You heaved a tired sigh, burying your face in your hand. You knew that Harry had been 'experimenting' - as he liked to call it – while writing his new album. He said it helped him get out of his own head, relieve the pressure. You reckoned that as long as he was taking drugs because he wanted to escape reality, or as long as he didn't get a sense of need for it, then it was quite unharmful.

At least, you thought so.

"Could you come and pick us up? Sarah's not answering her phone, and I can't drive."

"How did you get there?"

"I called an ambulance. He was bleeding like crazy!"

"Are you high too?"

"A little. Less than him though. Still, can't drive."

"I'm coming. Don't move."

"Thank you, Y/N!"

"Don't thank me yet, I'm about to kick both of your arses!"

You hung up the phone before Mitch could add anything, and hurried to set back the few items you had gathered in your bag before you rushed to your car.

You sent a text to Gareth warning him about the incident and telling him that you couldn't get the groceries and were driving to the hospital instead, before you turned on the engines and drove out of the parking lot.

Your phone rang a few minutes later, and you talked on speaker with your boyfriend.

"Hey! I just got your text… is everybody alright?"

"Hmmm… I don't know for sure, I'm going to the hospital now."

"Do you need me to come too?"

"No, don't bother. You're busy working. I'll handle it."

"I hope it's nothing too serious. How did he manage to hurt his tongue so badly?"

"I'll tell you later. I've got to kick his butt first."

"Go easy on him. The poor guy…"

"You're right, it must hurt a lot," you calmed down instantly, and now instead of anger, you wanted to reach the hospital as fast as possible out of worry.

"I'm sure he'll be fine. Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you. See you tonight."

"Love you!"

"Love you too."

Soon enough you were rushing inside the hospital, looking for your two friends. And you found them with ease, as they were waiting for you, sitting on hospital chairs with Harry's head resting on Mitch's shoulder.

The guitarist gave you a little wave and a relieved smile.

"Thank God you're here…"

"Are you alright?"

"Me? Yeah… him… He needs a nap."

As if on cue, Harry seemed to finally notice that you were here, and he shot you a toothy grin.

"Y/N! I 'appy 'o 'ee you!" he mumbled, unable to articulate his words properly.

"They numbed his tongue," Mitch explained. "And he's still high."

"Is it serious?" you asked with worry in your voice as you bent down to examine Harry's face.

"Nah… he'll be fine. Got it all patched up. He'll be fine in a few days. He did lose a bit of his tongue though!"

You smacked Harry's arm, and he frowned, looking at you with angry eyes and an adorable pout while he rubbed his arm.

"Wha' was 'at for?"

"What was that for? You lost a piece of your tongue, you moron!"

"Don' call me 'at…" his pout grew sadder, an effect of the drugs, really, he was always sleepy and all cuddly when he was drunk or high.

"I was so worried about you!"

A smirk slowly formed on his lips.

"You 'ere 'orried abou' me?"

"Of course, I was worried! I still am! And I'm gonna kick your butt for being so stupid!"

"I 'ave a pre'y bu'…" he smirked.

"Yes, well, your pretty butt is gonna be in trouble! Now come on, let's get you home."

You dropped Mitch at the studio first, where he would wait for Sarah to take him home. You helped Harry in his house next, making sure he wouldn't fall, as his head was still cloudy. He was slowly doing better though, and his words became clearer by the minute, although his painful tongue still made him wince when he hit his tongue against his teeth.

"'ank you for picking me up," he said, falling on his bed.

"I'm gonna get you some water, okay?"

You helped him out of his jumper, as he seemed tangled in his sleeves before heading downstairs and coming back with a glass of cold water.

"'ank you," he breathed in a baby voice, holding the glass in both his hands as he rested his back against the headboard.

You shook your head looking at him. You had to admit that he looked adorable like this, a little lost maybe. Soft and fragile and you could read through his body language that he longed for some cuddles.

And you thought about crawling in bed by his side, to let him rest his hedd against your shoulder, but then you remembered that he wasn't single either anymore. So, you reached for your phone instead.

"You want me to call Gloria for you? What's her number?"

"Who?"

"Gloria. You're girlfriend?"

He huffed, shaking his head.

"She ain' my girlfriend. I don' see her anymore."

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?"

He shrugged, his pout back on his face.

"I didn' like her 'at much."

"I see…"

"I don' wan' 'o be alone," he admitted in a whisper, resting his head against the headboard, his glass still in his hands resting on his stomach, while he stared at you with pleading eyes that truly meant to say please, stay.

You heaved a sigh, taking off your shoes and climbing in the bed by his side. He gave you a grin in response.

"Alright… but just a few minutes. Then, I have to go home."

"Bu' I'm hur'…"

"Because you were being a moron. Next time, don't count on me to come pick you up at the hospital because you broke a limb because you were high!"

He stared at you with one of these intense glances he threw at you every time he listened to you really intently, and it was always a bit too much for you to handle.

"I don' like i' when you're mad a' me…" he whispered truthfully, a sad expression on his face now.

You heaved a sigh, defeated already. You took away his empty glass, placing it on the bedside table on your side of the bed, and opened your arms for him. He didn't need you to speak out loud to rush into your embrace, burying his face into your neck.

"I'm not mad," you reassured him. "I just… I don't like it when you're hurt. It makes me all worried."

He hummed, nodding.

"I'm always worried abou' you 'oo you know?"

"I know."

"I ge' real worried when you don' call for more 'an a day," he went on, rambling, and you were certain that he wouldn't have said any of these words out loud, had he been sobber. "I make all 'ese scenarios in my head… and I miss you."

"Well, I'm here now."

He snuggled closer to you, nodding his head. His arms were around you now, holding you against him as if he were afraid you'd change your mind and walk away at any second now.

"I'm always worried abou' you. I really need you, you know?"

He rubbed his cheek in your neck, and you were certain that your heart was about to implode.

"I like i' when you hold me," he went on. "Feels warm. Feels safe. Feels really safe in your arms."

You dropped a kiss in his hair, and you could have sworn he had shivered at the contact.

"You are safe. You're safe with me, Harry."

"Don' leave me. Ever."

"I'm not gonna leave you, Harry."

He heaved a content sigh, before breathing in deeply your scent, your perfume and your shampoo intertwined to better blur his senses. When he spoke again, it was barely a whisper, and you weren't sure what he meant, but it sounded like something dangerous.

"God… I write too many songs abou' you, Y/N. I'm so sorry. I really 'ried bu' I can' help i'… Ain' my fault if you're always there."

Put a price on emotion

I'm looking for something to buy

Harry pulled at his lower lip while he listened to the latest version of his song. He had started writing it a while ago, but he could feel now that it was almost done.

His tongue was almost healed, and he could speak as normal again. He thought back about the way it felt to be safely held in your embrace…

You've got my devotion

But man, I can hate you sometimes

He wondered if you would remember that these words were yours. That night on New Year's Eve. You and him alone in his mother's garden, under the frozen winter sky. He could never shake off these words of yours. He wasn't sure of what you meant by them at the time, and yet he felt like they echoed in his heart with an uncomfortable accuracy.

He too hated you sometimes for the way he loved you so ardently, so stubbornly. At the end of the day though, it wasn't your fault at all, and he couldn't change his feelings either.

We'll get the drinks in

And I'll get to thinking of her

He had broken up with Gloria, although he reckoned that they had never really been together to begin with. He had just seen her over the course of three weeks, it was hardly anything meaningful to him. And he was ashamed to admit it, but he had indeed drunk a little too much a couple of nights just to think of you instead.

We'll be a fine line

Maybe it could be what you'd remain. Somewhere in between friends and lovers, and it was almost fine for him, really. It had been fine for a long time, at least. He could shake off the feeling of missing you, and he had grown skilled at forgetting about Gareth and the way he got to kiss you and share your bed.

But then he would see you face to face, and it was getting harder every day to resist the temptation to just spill it all out and hold you close.

And when he saw you with Gareth, it still hurt just as much to know that he lived everything Harry desired so brightly.

For how much longer could he go on like this? Years? Months? He didn't know, and was afraid to find out the answer.

Test of my patience

There's things that we'll never know

And yet despite everything he felt and how painful it was to live like this, he still preferred this situation to the events that would unfold if he spoke the truth.

Because he knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes, and you were loyal to a fault. And you were kind and too selfless for your own good. And if he told you the truth, you would walk away. He had given the various possibilities a lot of thoughts, and over the dozens of scenarios he had run into his head, his conclusion seemed to always fall back onto you leaving him for good. Because you could never choose him feeling like you would be cheating on your boyfriend. He knew perfectly well that you would never do anything of the kind to your boyfriend. If you were to ever leave him, it would be to make you both happier, not just for yourself. And for now, Harry was pretty sure that it wasn't the case.

So, even if he managed, by some miracle, to make you doubt your feelings for Gareth and consider trying something with him, Harry knew that your sense of loyalty would push you back into Gareth's arms. Guilt would torture you too much. And then Harry would lose you for good.

No need to try, then. The game was lost already. It was almost as if your possible feelings for him - and he was far from certain that you had any - barely mattered. There was just no scenario where Harry won.

What a stupid heart he had for giving itself to you...

Spreading you open

Is the only way of knowing you

If only he had realized all this before you met Gareth...

Why did it have to hurt so much to belong to someone else? Why did it have to mean that we'd be at their mercy? Why did we have to be so damn fragile in front of the ones that mattered most to us?

Would you recognize them if he sang your words? Would you remember that evening with him? He still dreamt about it from time to time...

Would you realize it then? How much of you he carried with him all the time?

He reckoned that you wouldn't.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be alright

He let his head fall back, his face turned to the ceiling as he let out a deep, painful sigh and closed his weary eyes.

Would the two of you ever be alright?

***********************************************

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