#I’ve watched this movie three times in the past like week and a half alone | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maddys-nerd-blog · 11 months ago

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Hi! It’s been a while!

I’m sorry I haven’t shared anything in a while. Things have been really stressful and I’ve been pretty down for the past few weeks, but I finally got this done in the meantime. Writing has been the best distraction from all the strain I’ve got in my life at the moment.

This is something I wanted to write for a while, so I hope you like this!! It’s a Christmas one shot for my Familia AU! I figured out how to use the link thingy too so I’ll link the song Katie sings in this one at the end too!!

Happy holidays and Happy New Year!! ☺️

Familia: Forever

Feliz Navidad, mi Familia!

Holidays were supposed to be fun. At least, that was what Katie used to think. This was long before the inter-dimensional travel or the crazy realm hopping bullshit she’d been roped into. In her world, this time of year was one to take as a relative breather. A chance to look forward to cheesy movies, sugary candy that was sure to grant you cavities, the change in weather was just cold enough to wear comfy sweaters, or buy everything you could get your hands on until your wallet crumbled to dust. Minus the stress the tumultuous spending habits one picked up once December arrived, the Christmas season was certainly a festive occasion.

Katie remembered when her niece was little, when she was young enough to still believe in Santa, she and Grace would stay up for hours the night of Christmas Eve to deck the apartment in wondrous decor, dusting baby powder across the floor and using Katie’s combat boots to create impressions on the rug for the immersion of Saint Nick having visited, along with a half eaten plate of white chocolate chip cookies— Grace’s favorite. It was worth the effort to watch the girl race into the living room with stars in her eyes and a bright smile as she stared at a decently sized pile of wrapped presents awaiting her.

It was something she wouldn’t trade for the world.

But those were just memories. Fleeting, gone in an instant due to high amounts of stress. It hurt to recall those happier moments amidst the chaotic whirlwind she found herself in now— separated from her family, possibly forever at this point, sporting a robotic arm, becoming a wanted fugitive in three different dimensions, and a surrogate mother to five unruly boys that needed guidance in a universe where every single person wanted to either capture or kill them.

Needless to say, Katie had enough to put up with. And with the holidays fast approaching, all she could think of was one thing—

What am I going to do?

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

December 24.

That was the date on the calendar. Katie couldn’t help but glare at the number from afar, black coffee piping hot in her hands through the thick ceramic mug she cradled close. The longer she stared at it, the more the reality sank in. It seemed to taunt her. Nothing could change the fact that there was only a few days left until Christmas.

Taking a slow sip of her caffeinated beverage the detective leaned back against the countertop. Breathing deep, she sighed heavily through her nostrils as they flared, taking in the heat of the coffee, savoring its bitter taste. Don’t think about it, Katie tried to scold herself. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, just pretend it’s another day. It was better to make believe things were business as usual than accepting the depressing reality of her current situation.

Three years.

Three. Years.

This would mark three years she hadn’t seen her family. Three Christmases spent running, hiding, fighting to survive. Three entire years of not being surrounded by the people she loved.

That was a decent amount of time spent not knowing if her sister or niece were still waiting for her to come home. This wasn’t New York— not hers, never hers— but the faint memories of the two lingered through streets that felt vaguely familiar. Ghosts of their presence followed where ever she traveled, and here was no different. Wandering through Central Park alone at night she could almost hear the sound of Lilium’s laughter ringing in the trees, or Grace’s voice echoing in the dark, calling for her to come home.

It ached. It hurt.

It was empty.

Thin, spindly arms found themselves wrapping around her middle from behind. What otherwise would have startled the woman made her breathe easier as she was gently pulled backward to better fit into his embrace. Quietly, the voice asked, “You doin’ okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded. Without dropping her mug she brought a hand up to reach behind her, cupping the face of the man who’d stayed by her side through all this mess. How he’d been willing to put up with her for this long was something she would never understand, but she was grateful all the same. “I’m fine. Just… not feeling too great.”

Danny looked over her shoulder, muted gold eyes boring into the depths of her soul with a ragged understanding that years of being a hardened criminal had provided. Ears pricking, he asked, “Want me t’ get you anything?”

“Unless you have a magic phone that can help me call my sister to let her know I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, then not really,” she snorted dryly. “Just homesickness. I’ll be fine.”

Danny frowned. “How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long has it been? Y’know. Since ya saw them.”

“… long enough to know I miss them.”

The yōkai tightened his arms around her waist. “Sorry, hon. Wish there was a way we could get ya home.”

She shrugged lamely. “Does it matter anymore?” She turned enough in his hold to face him— aging wrinkles under his eyes gave way to a softer expression of compassion. “I’ve got other things to focus on. I have five boys to take care of. I can’t let myself get distracted.”

“That ain’t exactly a healthy way t’ deal with things,” Danny lifted a hand to touch her cheek. His claws scraped across her skin delicately, making her shudder. “Let yourself be upset. It’s okay.”

She paused, soaking in his touch, leaning her face into his palm with a sigh. Doubt began to settle upon weary shoulders, her lips pursed into a frown. “Is it though?”

Danny actually looked baffled by this notion, staring at her with bewildered eyes. “What do you mean ‘is it’? You’re allowed t’ have emotions ya know.”

“But I gotta be the reliable one. I’m the one making the money to support all of us. You guys need me to be dependable. If I’m not one hundred percent, then I’ll let you guys down.”

“Ya gotta nip that in th’ bud, doll. That’s a toxic mindset.” The yōkai decided to use his hand to push her bangs out of her brow to better gaze into her eyes. His tail wrapped around her waist in place of his arms, drawing her closer to him. “I’m more than capable t’ take th’ load offa your shoulders. I can get work— honest work— in th’ Hidden City. Ya don’t gotta carry it on your back alone.” Danny grinned with a smile full of warmth. “That’s what I’m here for now.”

Katie, still struggling to withhold her emotions, leaned her head forward until her forehead came to rest on his collar. She could smell the lingering scent of his favorite cologne, ocean breeze and cigar smoke clinging to his frame. She could breathe it in until her lungs were sore. “I’d be selfish for putting that on you when you’ve already got shit to deal with.”

“Then be selfish.” Danny held her closer, the mug in her hands crushed between them. “I can handle it. The last thing I need is for you t’ get sick offa this stress.”

CRASH! Somewhere in the living room the sound of glass shattered, along with a cry of ‘it wasn’t me!’ Coming right after as Raph could be heard in the background scolding someone.

Katie cringed, mourning the loss of the tender moment. “When I’m not breaking fights up, THEN I’ll let myself cry.” She chugged her coffee with one quick swig, unfazed as it burned the root of her mouth and seared her tongue before untangling from the yōkai’s embrace to hurry into the room. Upon stepping into the doorway, Katie dropped her jaw at the unbelievable scene taking place.

One: the carpet was stained with ink. Sharpie markers had been broken in half, spilling the contents upon a giant scrap of cardboard and floor amongst a cluster of things strewn around the ground. Casey and Donnie sat in the middle of it, smeared in bright red and blue across their hands, looking like deer caught in headlights.

Two: Leo standing over the broken remains of a lamp, trying in vain to hide the pieces under the ruined rug, his feet covered from the ankle down in dark blue ink, tracking a trail from the spot where Casey and Donnie currently stayed. Behind him a festive Christmas paper popper lay torn in twain, confetti all over the place.

Three: Raph was giving Leo an earful, not too keen on having half his plastron coated with neon pink sharpie ink. Poor Mondo stood with his face coated in purple and green, desperately trying to scrub it out of his eyes as he yelped and cried out on pain.

“Leo, are you crazy!?”

“I said I was sorry!”

“Kat’s gonna kill you! Look at the floor!”

“I told you this was a stupid idea! Why do you never listen to me?!”

“Instead of yelling at me, how about helping me scrub this out?!”

“DUDES MY EYES ARE MELTING! I’M GOING BLIND!”

“Wait he can’t really go blind, right?”

“ARE YOU REALLY SAYING THAT?!”

… it wasn’t even ten in the morning, and the boys had already managed to find themselves in chaos.

Resisting the urge to grab her smokes, Katie swallowed her frustration back down in order to reign in the madness unfolding. “What in the name of God are you boys doing!?”

Almost immediately four heads snapped towards her direction, minus Mondo who still tried to get the inky gunk out of his eyes. And just as swiftly, Donnie and Casey pointed to Leo with an accusing finger. “He did it!”

The red eared slider, highly offended, threw his hands up with a dramatic motion. “Jerks! I can’t believe you ratted me out!”

Mondo’s hands pried themselves away from his face, squinting, only to yelp painfully as the ink spread further into the tear ducts. He flailed his arms and stumbled, knocking himself into the wall with a thud. “Mom, help!”

She hurried to his aid, placing a steadying hand upon the gecko’s shoulder to keep him still lest he knock himself out. Turning her gaze unto Leo, Katie turned her voice stern. “Okay, spill! What’s going on?!”

“Nothing!” Leo tried to act casual, folding his arms behind his shell as he leaned against the couch with a shaky grin, gaze shifting quickly back and forth between the broken lamp and the markers. “Just, uh… playing Monopoly!”

Deadpanning, Katie raised a brow with an unamused frown. “Really. Monopoly. I didn’t know buying Broadway meant snapping open three sharpies and handing over two hundred to move forward.” Unfazed, she pressed on. “Why is the room a mess?”

“It’s nothing, really!” Leo tried to assure her, waving his hand at the floor. “Just an accident while we were making some posters for—“ his eyes widened, as though he realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, and he averted his gaze from Raph— who looked ready to pummel him where he stood.

“For what?” Katie asked.

“… the Hidden City?” Leo slowly responded. Raph hissed under his breath, “Hypocrite.”

That made her blink. Looking to Raph she questioned, “Why does he want to hang up posters in the Hidden City?”

Raph wouldn’t budge. When Casey opened his mouth to reply, Donnie jammed his elbow into the other boy’s ribs, shutting him up as he interrupted. “To buy groceries!”

Katie continued, not buying it. “Really. Grocery shopping?”

Leo looked sheepish. “Uuuuuh… yes?”

Mondo flailed his arms around again, whimpering as he grew panicked. “I still can’t see!”

Katie, still fighting to stay sane, chose not to start this argument. “Okay,” she easily picked the gecko, him being lightweight enough to carry in her arms. “Leo, since this was your idea, you’re cleaning this mess. I gotta go get this out of Jason’s face before he actually goes blind.”

“What?!” Leo gaped. “But what about going shop—“ he didn’t get to finish his sentence before Raph clamped his mouth shut, gesturing for him to be quiet. That made her suspicious.

“… is there something I should know about?” She inquired, narrowing her eyes to give the ‘Stern Mom’ look.

“Nope!” “Not really.” “Absolutely not!” Came the instant replies of three not-so-subtle boys who were fighting to look innocent. Raph was doing a better job than Casey and Donnie, but Leo’s poker face needed work. It was obvious they were trying to hide something…

“Kat,” Danny suddenly entered the room like an apparition— perfect timing if she had anything to say about this— “Why don’t ya help Jason and I’ll help the boys clean this mess up?”

This was getting stranger by the minute. Why was everyone acting so shifty? It wasn’t like them to keep secrets like this, but Raph? Danny? Why were they behaving like this? Katie hummed suspiciously, pouting, hefting the still-whimpering Mondo in her arms to help him. “… alright. Make sure you get that stain out. If you can’t, just chuck it.”

“Can do,” Danny gave her a two-fingered salute as she made her exit. The way he spoke suggested things were casual.

But it still didn’t make her any less suspicious. What’s going on with them?

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

The moment Katie was out of range— and earshot, once he’d picked up the sound of the restroom door being closed— Danny’s smile fell, quickly replaced by a panicked hiss as he whipped around to face the teens. “Who told?!”

All present pointed to Leo. The red eared slider flailed his arms, fed up. “I didn’t mean to! It just slipped out!”

“Just slipped out?!” Raph repeated, eyes popping open wide with shock. “You almost gave us up! I told you to keep our plan on the down low and what do you do?!”

“She still doesn’t know!” Leo defended. “I didn’t say anything important! It’s not like I said ‘Guess what? We’re gonna give you a Christmas celebration this year!’”

“What’s the point of a surprise if you spoil it?” Casey brushed some of the ink off his palms, leaving bright yellow stains across his previously black jeans. “That’s, like, not even worth it.”

“Jesus,” Danny pinched the ridge of his snout with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. His tail curled around his ankles, refraining from striking the floor. “Okay. Okay, fine, so she’s still in the dark. As long as she doesn’t know, we’re fine.”

“Why shouldn’t she know?“ Donnie chimed in. “I mean, it’s almost Christmas, so why not just let her in on the plan?”

“Cuz this is FOR her,” Danny reiterated. “This is her third Christmas separated from her family. And I’m sure th’ rest of you have been homesick during th’ holidays long enough. After all th’ bullshit we’ve put up with, I think a demonstration of our appreciation is in order t’ get her in a better headspace.”

Casey shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, leaning against the couch. “So what’re are we doing again? Have we even picked an idea?”

“None of us are in agreement,” Danny sighed. “We ain’t doing a circus—“

“No fun!” Leo protested, but he went ignored.

“We don’t got th’ cash for a fancy dinner or a night at Yankee stadium, and we can’t drive into th’ Bronx if we’re being tracked by Draxum.” The rat yōkai’s tail swished around his feet in silent frustration. “So unless we got another plan in th’ back burner, we’re gonna have to do something here.”

Donnie picked up the ruined artwork on the sign, frowning at the garbled wording beneath the dark ink. “It was starting to look cool, too. It took me hours to get that design to look right! Why did you break the markers?”

“I saw a video online that showed me how to make a gradient using the ink of you broke them the right way!”

“And you just… did it?”

“Clearly I did it wrong! Can we stop rubbing it in?!”

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

“Alright, mijo, let’s look at the damage.” Katie shined a small pen light in Mondo’s eyes, moving it side to side while keeping track of his pupils. He sat on the lip of the tub, tail curled around to sit in his lap, his face scrunched into an expression of pain as she gingerly pried an eyelid open with precise fingers. “Can you see the light moving?”

The gecko squinted, wincing, but he nodded. The gold of his orbs were dark red, the veins in his eyeballs visible from the burning, but his pupils followed the movement. “Yeah. It stings though…”

Humming, Katie released his eyelid gently, clicking the light off. “Good news! You’re not blind, clearly, but there’s irritation and it’s probably gonna look real blurry for a couple hours, but there should be something in here I can use to fix that,” she reached inside the restroom cabinet at her side, combing through the selection of medicines she’d obtained. Mystical ointments and brightly colored liquids bobbed around within uniquely shaped bottles and glass jars labeled with words Katie couldn’t translate yet. She swore some of this stuff was just glittery sugar water disguised to look like healing tonics.

Finally, she’d located a small tin that looked like the type of medical salves she’d glossed over in the drug store. Snatching it up Katie popped open the lid to scoop some of the white cream into her fingers. “Try holding still for a minute, hon. If you need to talk about something to distract yourself, just do it.”

Mondo nodded, holding tight to the end of his tail. “Gotcha,” he replied with worry.

Katie knelt to his level, beginning to apply the cream around his eyes as the gecko flinched, fingers starting to dig into his tail scales. Sensing his discomfort she decided to speak, “Hey, what are you asking for this Christmas?”

Mondo paused, flinching a little as the irritation in his eyes flared up. “I think… I asked for a new board.”

“Oh yeah?” Katie smiled a little. “Any type of board, or just a regular one from the shops?”

“It’s a limited edition kind,” Mondo’s smile was infectious as he started to ramble about the skateboard. “I think Tony Hawk had one just like it! It’s like all decked out with these retro decals that aren’t on the market anymore, they painted it this gnarly neon blue—“ mindlessly chattering about his dream skateboard helped to keep his mind off the burns from his eyes, thankfully. It continued on like this for the next five minutes, the boy happily recalling all the things he’d written down on his list— new sneakers, a boombox for his cassette tapes, spray paint— all the things a kid his age was interested in.

It was only after she completed getting his eyes treated with the ointment that the gecko squinted through the cream on his face, beaming. “What about you, Mom?”

Katie paused momentarily, screwing the lid to the ointment closed. “I didn’t have anything in mind,” she lamely shrugged.

Mondo, being as intuitive as ever, knew she was hiding the truth. “Come on! There’s gotta be something you want!”

Katie still remained hesitant. “What I want… it’s a thing I can’t have.” She put the jar away, repressing the bubbling turmoil that brewed inside her chest.

This made Mondo curious. “What do you mean?”

Katie paused. Closing the cupboard, she folded her hands before her to avoid fidgeting. “… it’s… my family.”

Mondo’s expression changed from confused to sympathetic. Even squinting through the mess of cream around his eyes he could see the immense grief that rested on her shoulders. He could tell she missed them, that their absence had driven something painful and deep into her core. He knew what it was like, wishing the people you cared for were there when you were thousands of miles away from everything you knew. “I don’t think I ever asked what they were like.” He sat up a little straighter, hands folded on his lap this time. “Can you tell me?”

Katie’s lips quirked into a fond smile; one full of warmth and gratitude. Easing herself to sit beside the gecko, she pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through her photos, selecting one from a folder she’d labeled ‘Familia.’ It was of Lilium’s twelfth birthday; the last time she saw her sister and niece. They’d decked the house in bright pinks and oranges, glittery streamers dangling on the ceiling, having gone all out for her. It had been themed after fairytales— she’d dressed herself up as a princess, complete with a Renaissance hairstyle. Grace had dawned a lovely gown made from fine turquoise fabrics. Mother and daughter were grinning for the photo, sitting in the living room as sunlight cascaded through the sheer curtains and illuminated their smiles as if to immortalize them. It was one of the only photos of them she had left.

Lilium would be fifteen now. Grace would have recently turned thirty-five.

“This is them.” She showed Mondo the photo. “Grace and Lily. She’d be around your age,” she pointed to the cheerful girl. “I think you two would get along really well. Grace would spoil you rotten,” chuckling softly Katie stared at the face of the woman who had been there for her through thick and thin, through the worst of her breakups, the terrible binges of her drinking habits where she’d seen the darker part of her demons, something only Danny caught a rare glimpse of. “We’d always go to the park on Sunday and have ice cream. Every week we would pick a random movie on the TV commercials to see and laugh about it.”

Katie’s smile faltered as her reminiscing turned into melancholy. “Lilium has an incredible singing voice for her age. Real Lea Salonga-like. She dreams of starring in a big movie musical someday. All she talks about is Broadway and the latest show she wants to audition for. And Gracie always knew what to do when you were depressed. She’d whip up your favorite meal and let you vent for hours if you needed it. Sure she was a little timid, but… she always seemed to know how to make a shitty day better.”

Mondo frowned with remorse. “You miss them?”

“More than anything,” Katie murmured in response.

Mondo pulled his tail back into his lap, guilt creeping into his chest. “… for what it’s worth, I think they’d be proud of you. I mean, you kicked serious bad guy butt, you traveled across dimensions, and helped us out! You took care of me even when my folks didn’t!” He laughed a little if only to shake off the underlying truth of his biological parents rejecting him.

Katie cracked the smallest of smiles. Reaching up she scratched the top of his head like she always would to calm him down, quietly pulling him close to sit at her side. “Thanks, mijo. You’re a good kid, you know that?”

“Yeah!” Mondo boasted playfully. “I’m pretty great!”

That caused Katie to laugh, the somber emotions she’d been feeling subsiding a little to allow herself to breathe. It granted a moment of reprieve long enough to keep hers wits about her and not lose herself to depression. But ever the attentive son, Mondo noticed the grief that clung to his mother. His hands fidgeted with his tail once more to think of how he could fix the pain his caretaker harbored…

And an idea sprang up in his mind.

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

“… that’s my plan! Sounds good, right?”

“Honestly that’s ten times better then what I’ve got.”

“It better not be another freakin’ circus.”

“I keep telling you, it would be an amazing gift!”

“You think we can pull it off?”

“… I mean, at this rate, we’ve got nothing. I say let’s do it.”

“Awwwww man! Missed opportunity!”

“Can it, Blue. Jason, you sure this’ll work?”

“Yeah! She’s gonna go bonkers for this, I know it!”

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

Katie couldn’t sleep.

It was an old habit, she knew. From years of Lily bursting into the guest bedroom, bright eyed and excited in the early hours of Christmas morning, pulling her arm and squealing that Santa had visited and left behind presents. And as the old saying went, old habits die hard. She stared at the ceiling with exhausted eyes counting the cracks that spiderwebbed along the chipping plaster, phone sitting on the dresser beside her bed, almost wishing it would ring to alert her to a call from her sister. She prayed she could at least receive a text from her, but for the past three years there was nothing.

Emerald eyes fell upon the clock near her phone. Four-fifty in the morning.

She’d been up for hours…

The hideout was silent, questionably so. All day long the boys were on their best behavior after the ink incident— no pranks, no stress, no fights, not even one broken bone or shattered vase. They were oddly helpful and eager to finish the chores when asked, which was NOT normal in the slightest, and once night fell they’d all but ushered her off to bed. “I’ll deal with th’ kids. Get some beauty sleep,” Danny had coaxed with a playful wink. “Lord knows you could use it.”

It was a tempting offer she couldn’t refuse.

But still, sleep evaded her.

So much for getting rest.

Her conversation with Mondo had gotten her thinking, once more, of her family and friends back home. How were they now? She wondered. Did Lilium like high school? Was she making friends? Had Grace found love at last? Did the Chief finally decide to retire? So many unanswered questions she would never get to know because they were gone, far off in another world that was lost to her now. So many birthdays, so many anniversaries, so many celebrations, too many things she’d missed because she’d been reckless. All of it, gone.

Almost daring herself to do so, Katie grabbed her phone from the dresser. The brightness of the screen illuminated her face, slicing through the darkness. Unlocking it, she opened her texts to scroll down to the last messages she’d received the day she’d gone on this rocky road.

Fourteen missed calls from her sister. Three from the Chief. Nine from her partners. Twelve from Lily…

Sis ✨;

Thursday October 12, 2017 at 2:35pm

Hope you have a great day at work! Lily’s asking for Monica’s tonight for dinner, want to join?

Sis✨;

Thursday October 12, 2017 at 7:12pm

I saved you some food from tonight! I got your favorite; fettuccini and shrimp! Just let me know when you get out of work so I can heat it up!

Sis✨;

Friday October 13, 2017 at 10:33am

Are you alright?

Sis✨;

Friday October 13, 2017 at 3:02pm

Kathrine please call me. This isn’t like you.

Sis✨;

Saturday October 14, 2017 at 12:46pm

Henderson said you haven’t shown up to your shift in days.

Are you okay? Lily’s been worried about you, as am I. Please call me.

Sis✨;

Saturday October 14, 2017 at 3:24pm

Kathrine please. If you don’t call me I’m going to have to use my spells. I just want to know if you’re safe.

I know you’re busy, but I’m worried about you. I pray you’re alright.

Munchkin🎼;

Saturday October 14, 2017 at 12:30pm

I miss you Auntie…

Katie finally put the phone down, no longer able to stomach the messages. An awful burn stung her eyes. Those were the final texts she would ever get from her family.

There were so many thoughts running through her head. Some of them were pointless, mundane. But the majority were filled with anguish. She knew better than to verbalize that in front of the kids— keep it closed off, shutter it tight, push it aside and pretend it’s not there. The well-being of those boys were more important than her mental health. But the more she ignored it, the harder the headaches struck. They turned into cloying migraines that pounded and rattled her brain with a powerful vengeance, reminding her of the awful truth of her situation; I’m never going home and I’m never going to see Grace or Lily again.

It was a bitter pill to choke on, but she knew it was one she had to swallow.

Going back home was a pipe dream, forever out of the realm of possibility. Katie lost that hope ages ago, when she’d gone to space with Fugitoid.

Katie’s vision blurred. Breathing shakily, she rolled onto her side, clutching her comforter tight against her aching chest. She couldn’t complain. She couldn’t. She chose this life. She chose to follow Karai all those years ago into that vortex. She chose to pick a fight with crazy people. The Chief was right about her; she never learned when to quit.

Katie gripped her blanket tighter, shutting her eyes. Breathe, moron. Christmas has to go well for the kids. Do NOT worry them.

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

Breathe in…

Breathe—

CRASH!

… out?

Katie shot up, startled. Did she hear that right? Did something break?

Hushed, rapid whispers she couldn’t pick up shot back and forth. She recognized Danny’s voice amongst the mishmash of voices beyond her door. There goes any chance of sleep…

Kicking the thick comforter off, Katie climbed out of bed, snagging one of the fuzzy robes from the edge of her bed frame and pulling it on to stave off the cold. Upon reaching the door she twisted the knob ever so carefully to avoid making a sound, she opened it just a sliver to catch the panicked conversation. While hushed, she heard pieces of it.

“What’d you do?!”

“Don’t look at me!”

“Shut up shut up! She’ll wake up!”

“You broke th’ freakin’ lamp, dumbass! She’s gonna hear!”

Opening the door enough for her to slip out, Katie clutched her robe around her chest as she headed for the living room, where most of the commotion resided. She silently carried herself down the dark corridor to avoid being detected. The voices of her boys and Danny were no longer muffled by the distance as she reached the entryway of the threshold—what piqued her curiosity immediately was, dancing along the ceiling spilling out onto the ground were colorful lights; red, green, blue, pink, yellow. They spun in a slow, lazy circle against the darkness.

“Nononono don’t do that, you’ll cut yourself—!”

“Dude, be careful with that!”

“Can we all calm down for a damn minute and get this done?!”

Katie peeked around the lip of the entrance, taking the chance to look inside…

… it wasn’t what she expected.

It looked as though Christmas vomited all over the place. The entire room was decked out with festive decorations; handmade, cutout snowflakes were dangling on strings along the ceiling, all of which were designed to look like marigolds. Plastic figurines of Saint Nick and his reindeer pulling his sleigh guarded a tray full of crispy sugar cookies messily traced with blue and white frosting to look like snowmen. Tinsel was hung up in long loops on the walls, silver and gold woven into thin braids. Stockings were pinned on the mantel, all of them in varying sizes and styles, the names of their matches embroidered in thick white thread from oldest to youngest— Danny, Kat, Raph, Casey, Leo, Mondo, Donnie. The couch wasn’t spared either, red and white plaid Christmas pillows fluffed to perfection.

But it was the eight foot tall pine tree currently standing in the corner of the room, where everyone was gathered, that caught her eye. It was massive— easily towering over everyone. Pine needles were scattered all over the rug. It was rotating on a stand that helped to keep it from wobbling. Ornaments had been hung upon the branches, strings of colorful Christmas lights wrapped all around the tree. It amused her to spot handmade decorations also hung on the thick branches. Tinsel had been discarded in a bundled up ball, tangled, bunched into knots. One of the lamps had been knocked to the floor again, the porcelain broken in shards.

Danny was struggling to keep his sanity. He was wearing a hilariously ugly violet sweater with pompoms on the sleeves, a piece of cheese on the front with the words ‘Have a Cheesy New Year’ embroidered in massive white letters. On his head he wore a pair of reindeer antlers. Donnie was placing boxes of hastily wrapped presents under the tree, wearing a dark green sweater with some kind of anime character on the front. Helping him, Leo hefted giant shopping bags onto the couch with a grunt, trying to make sure he didn’t drop anything. His own baby blue Christmas sweater was geared more for fashion, white stripes wrapping around his arms and collar. She nearly burst into giggles when she realized he was wearing a bright red nose on his snout.

Casey wasn’t dressed up, in fact he looked the most casual in a black long sleeved shirt with black and green plaid lounge pants, but he was busying himself with cleaning the mess currently sitting on the floor. Raph attempted to grab the fallen ornaments that had been knocked off, growing agitated when the silly elf had he wore kept slipping down his brow to cover his eyes.

What really got her was Mondo, dressed up like Santa Clause, fake beard included. He was perched atop a small step ladder holding the tree topper— a dopey looking Christmas angel with beady eyes and floppy wings, watching everything unfold with a wince.

Finally stepping into the room to take all of it in, Katie giggled. “What is this?”

The heads of the culprits shot up to meet her gaze, caught red handed. Danny’s tail flicked around his ankles nervously, an unconfident smile on his snout as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Aaah…! Kat! Hey! Doll, what’re ya doin’ up?”

“Heard something break,” Katie, nonchalantly, reached up to touch one of the snowflakes with delicate fingers, taking in all the detail with a fond expression. Her eyes sparkled in awe. “Just wanted to make sure we weren’t being burgled.”

“In the sewer?” Leo raised a ridge, deadpanning, until Donnie smacked him in the leg.

Mondo took this change in stride. Beaming, he hopped off the ladder and tossed the angel to Raph, the white pompom hanging off his Santa hat jingling. “Mom! Merry Christmas! Surprise!” He waved his arms wildly to gesture towards the tree. “Do you like it?!”

“Surprise?” Katie blinked.

“Well, duh,” Casey nodded. “It’s a Christmas surprise!”

“What for?”

“For you!” Mondo grabbed her hand, tugging her inside to lead her to the loveseat. “Since you’re up, we can do it now!”

Laughing as she was seated, Katie found herself asking, “Do what?”

“Give you your gifts!” Mondo happily replied. He looked to the others, pointing to the boxes and bags. “Come on! It’s technically Christmas morning!”

Everyone exchanged skeptical glances. Whether it be from their shared exhaustion or doubt, nobody made the motion to move until Raph shrugged, smirked, and nodded. “He ain’t wrong,” he agreed. “We’ve been up for hours anyways.”

Katie’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, hours?”

Ignoring her bewilderment Danny shoved one of the boxes into her lap as a suitable distraction. “Never mind that Doll, here, open these.”

“Hold up! If she’s going to open anyones’ gift first,” Leo pushed a massive blue shopping bag with the Macys logo on the sides at her feet. “It’s mine!”

“What? That’s bogus!” Casey shot back at the prankster. “I wanna give mine first!”

“Guys, really, knock it off. What are we, five?” Raph rolled his eyes at the childish display. “If one of us is gonna go b’fore th’ rest of us,” he nudged Mondo forward with an encouraging nod. “It’s Jace.”

Donnie smiled in agreement, giving the gecko a thumbs up. Bolstered by his friends Mondo scurried over to retrieve a package obviously wrapped by him— bright red paper with lightening bolts, crinkled and messy, taped to hell and back, with a shoddily tied bright blue bow in the middle. He offered the box forward with a giant smile, tail thumping against the floor in glee.

Accepting the gift, Katie looked at her son with a tired grin. “Mijo. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know,” Mondo nodded. “But I thought you’d like something that came from all of us.”

Katie couldn’t stop herself from looking taken by surprise. “What…?” She raised her gaze to Danny to search for an explanation, but the rat was sitting on the stepladder, a similarly fond expression written across a face usually wrought with stress and anger. Yellow eyes glistened, his grin gentle, kind, almost loving. “Listen t’ th’ kid,” he said. “I think yer really gonna like this.”

So, taking this in mind, Katie obliged. She gingerly pulled the paper apart, undid the bow, took the lid off the box to look at what had been given to her…

And her heart began to pang with emotion.

Perched in her lap was a scrapbook. Black leather, golden stud clasps punched into the corners… and in metallic gray sharpie marker in bold lettering was written, ‘Best Adopted Mom.’

Katie opened the book. She was greeted with photos of herself and her boys, from the happiest parts of their journey. Each one of these pictures showed them all smiling bright for the camera, either taken by surprise or charging the cameraman— probably Casey or Leo.

Coney Island. Yankee stadium. The diner. Raph learning how to drive the old pickup truck, Leo pointing and laughing hysterically at the other turtle. Casey in the ice rink teaching Mondo how to play hockey, Donnie holding onto the wall for dear life. Game nights, where by the end of it hell broke loose. The yōkai carnival. Halloween. The Day of the Dead gala— which, how the hell did they take the photo of her and Danny from that far at such a distance?— the beach. The arcade. There were sections of the book with color coordinated chapters to represent each of the boys— dark red for Raph. Sky blue for Leo. Electric purple for Donnie. Gold for Mondo. Black for Casey.

The photos ranged from mundane, to funny, to impressive shots of either duo in combat, to celebratory snippets cut out of newspapers or magazines. Fun stickers were pasted on the sides to give the paper more décor, doodies adorned every page, funny puns and quotes covered every inch of the book.

It wasn’t until she’d reached the final page that her heart backflipped.

The last page of the book contained two photos glued to a piece of pale pink paper: one was a group photo of herself and all the boys covered in bruises and battered, sitting at a table in Hueso’s restaurant, enjoying a pizza for the first time in months and looking completely at ease in the midst of a crowd of yōkai. They were beaming for the camera, a celebration of their newfound family in the aftermath of all they’d endured.

The second…

A photo of Grace and Lilium, the same one she’d shown Jason hours earlier. Underneath these pictures was a note.

‘To the best mom I’ve ever had! I’m sorry you can’t go home, but you’ve got us now! We can be your new family if you want! Thanks for always being here for us, for helping us, and for never giving up on any of us.

We love you, Mom!

Signed—

Leonardo

Raphael

Donatello

Casey

Jason.’

Katie remained still in her seat, the scrapbook cradled in her hands like it was a precious heirloom. She failed to realize she was shaking slightly. She didn’t notice how her vision started to blur again, only this time she truly couldn’t see anything past a misty haze of colors.

The silence that followed started to worry the others. Concerned, Mondo stepped forward, taking his Santa hat off and wringing it in his hands. “Mom…?”

The barriers shattered.

The walls came down.

Finally, for the first time in years, Katie burst into tears. It hurt. It stung like a bastard. Hot, furious waterfalls streamed along her skin in thick trails. Clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs as they overcame the detective, she allowed herself to release the bottled up emotions she’d kept under lock and key. Naturally everyone gathered to her side in moments, both baffled and confused while she wept over the book, messy tears dripping off her chin and jawline to plop onto the laminated pages.

A fuzzy, filling feeling flowed throughout her core, washing her hardened interior to melt away, giving in to an incredible emotion she hadn’t felt in years.

Love. To be loved by the people who had accepted all of her. To be loved by those who saw past the ugly pieces and kept her regardless. To be a parent to a group of amazing kids who, in turn, gave her purpose. To be loved by a man who only saw her— not the hybrid, not the magpie, nor the mixed breed… just Kathrine.

Is this what it felt like to be a mother?

Was this how Grace felt?

“Mom?!”

“Holy crap, are you okay?”

“What’s wrong?!”

“Guys, back up, give her air—“

“Did we do something bad—“

“I knew we shouldn’t have—“

“How?” Katie asked through sobs, quieting the boys. When no one responded she asked again with a shaking sigh, “How?”

“How what?” Leo frowned.

She scrubbed at her eyes with her sleeves, emerald orbs turning dark red in an attempt to wipe the tears away. “H-How did I… get so lucky?” Raising her head she met their gaze with a watery smile filled with joy and happiness, pink coloring her cheeks. “To find such great kids?“

Mondo blinked slowly, hat still twisted in his hands. “Do you… like the book?”

“Like it?” She asked, looking stunned, as if the question was outlandish. “Like it?”

Mondo gulped, the hat twisted thin between his hands. “Is it that bad? I didn’t think the pictures were that blurr—EEEP!”

Katie wrapped her arms around the gecko to pull him into a strong embrace, clutching the smaller of the mutants close. Against the tears that still made her eyes sore, the woman smiled, looking completely at ease in the presence of those around them. “Mijo,” she sniffled. “This is the greatest gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Mondo’s face lit up with glee, returning the hug readily, tail slapping rapidly against the floor in excitement. “Radical!”

There was a lack of movement from everyone else. Katie lifted her head, meeting the eyes of her boys with a watery chuckle. “What, you think there’s a favorite in this household?” She extended an arm towards Donnie, a silent invitation to join. “Get in here!”

Donnie instantly took the offer, jumping into her arms with a similarly giant smile, his glasses going askew on his snout. Casey followed suit, finding a space at Katie’s left side. Leo was just as eager to join the fold, practically leaping forward, starved for paternal affection. Raph, though slower to accept the overt display of emotion as the older ‘loner’ brother, inched his way over to his comrades, crouching beside the bunch to place a hand atop the lip of Leo’s shell, trying not to show the fond grin on his beak.

It was a sweet image; a surrogate mother hugging the sons who chose her, internally blessed to have them in her life.

Danny, awkwardly, stood out from the huddle. The rat yōkai used his clawed index finger to pull on his turtleneck collar, shifting on one foot to the other, tail curled at his ankles. Katie noticed, untangling one arm from the cluster of mutants to reach for him.

His eyes widened. Danny, wordlessly, pointed to himself to ask, ‘you sure?’

Katie just nodded. Her fingers wriggled to motion for him to come.

His tail twitched. He swallowed, suddenly anxious. Slowly, he crossed the short distance across the carpet, the Christmas lights still spinning and dancing in rings along the walls. Kneeling, Danny timidly lifted a hand to reach for her, every fiber in his body telling him he didn’t belong here, he didn’t deserve this, he wasn’t worthy, he wasn’t allowed to share in this moment—

But Katie took his hand. She threaded her fingers through his own, clasping it tight. Her brilliant emerald orbs shined like gemstones in the colorful hues of the lights behind them, a beautiful smile gracing her strained features. For the first time he detected no sign of stress, no wear and tear, no grief…

It was just Katie.

And there was no other magnificent sight Danny wanted to bask in.

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

An hour later, everyone commenced with the festivities proper. After drying her tears Katie had rushed to the closet to bring the rest of the presents she’d hidden from the boys— “I KNEW I should have checked that one,” Casey lamented with a snap of his fingers. Soon the sound of wrapping paper ripping and boxes being torn apart echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls and the sewer pipes overhead. Cheers and gasps of awe were soon to follow as everyone began to show off their gifts.

Mondo’s wish for a new skateboard came true as he hugged it chest, eyes scouring over the details of the designs and admiring the classic 90’s paint job. New converse sneakers, a box packed with vintage comics, an old school GameCube console and games to go with it sat dutifully in his corner.

Casey had yet to go through the pristine selection of metal baseball bats or hockey sticks that were set up in a leather carrying case along with the repaired rollerblades, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off the grey varsity jacket baring the name of his favorite hockey player currently clutched in his hands.

Raph didn’t react the most outwardly, but the pleased grunt he gave meant more than words. He totted a new set of boxer’s gloves, a black windbreaker, fingerless leather gloves custom made to fit for three fingers, a thick textbook on the history of motorcycles, knitting needles and yarn, as well as a rubix cube to help cope with his temper.

Donnie’s pile had a consistent theme; retro Pokémon games for his Gameboy, anime t-shirts, a BTS hoodie, refurbished laptop, plenty of Kpop CDs, Japanese snacks of varying kinds from chocolates to gummies, and a Gundam model kit to put together.

Leo hadn’t stopped squealing as he went through his selections, dramatically fainting over the sight. On top of receiving new clothes that would make David Bowie envious, the slider admired a set of neon nail polish to try out. He slipped on a pair of aviator sunglasses with dark red lenses as he tore into one more bag that had yet to be opened, and the sound he made caused his neighbor— Casey— to wince at the volume.

“NO. YOU. DIDN’T.” He pulled free a bright pink onesie with a hoodie and a horn on the top, a matching plushie tumbling out of it. Stars shined in his eyes under the sunglasses. “YOU GOT ME A UNICORN ONESIE?!”

“I mean,” Katie laughed as the slider hugged it to his chest, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he squealed. “You asked for one forever!”

“You’re the BEST!” Leo held up the fuzzy loungewear with pride, clearly over the moon with his present and holding it aloft as if it were Simba. “I now possess the coolest Christmas gift of all time! All of you can now be jealous!”

“If you say so,” Raph chuckled. He picked up a small wrapped bundle, tossing it at the prankster. “This one’s from me.”

Leo caught it, surprised. “Did I hear that right? RAPH got ME a Christmas gift?”

“Well, if ya don’t want it, I’ll give ‘em t’ Casey—“

“HELL NO,” Leo ripped the bright green paper off the strange bundle… revealing a pair of caramel brown fluffy, dopey puppy slippers with goggly eyes and floppy ears. Leo’s mouth dropped wide open with shock, holding the footwear in his fingers for all to see, earning a few giggles from Donnie and Casey.

“Nice shoes,” the human teen chortled.

“SCREW YOU I LOVE THEM,” Leo loudly proclaimed, shoving them on to spite him.

As the kids laughed and showed each other their gifts, the adults finally sank into the comfort of the couch. Lounging in the sofa with a relieved sigh, Danny took his antlers off, looking to Katie as he spoke. “So,” he murmured with a light chuckle. “Is that everyone?”

Katie, snorting, gave him a playful swat on his shoulder. “There’s still you, dummy.” She grabbed a rectangular box that looked quite fancy, handing it to him with a knowing expression. “Feliz Navidad, mi amor.”

“Baby,” blushing a dark crimson, Danny took the present into his hands. “Ya didn’t need to—“

“Course I did. You’re family now,” she folded her arms atop the couch cushions to rest her head there, watching him with adoration. “I couldn’t just leave you out.”

Danny’s face went blank, caught off guard.

“Was that wrong of me?”

“Nah. Just… haven’t been part of something like this in years. Not since Leonard or Mickey.” He went quiet for a moment, tugging the paper off the box carefully. “Ya know something? I thought I’d never get outta that life. I thought I was stuck in that cycle forever— but if I’m honest…” he reached a free hand towards hers, taking her hand into his own with all the tenderness of a class-A gentleman. He gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad I chose you over everything.”

If it was feasible for a human to turn into a living cherry, Katie’s face would have magically transformed into one. She blustered, a feat he thought impossible, as she held his hand tighter. “You jackass,” the detective giggled. “You gotta do this to me?”

“I aim t’ please…” Danny’s free hand had pried open the box at last, pushing the lid off. He stared down into the contents of what lay before him, and he genuinely looked touched.

A three piece suit, made of refined black satin, and a crisp silk tie dyed a pleasing dark violet, sat innocently in his lap. Sitting on top of that was a gold lighter with beautiful engravings, with his name etched along the metal in elegant cursive.

“You needed a suit to go dancing in,” Katie smirked as his fingers plucked the lighter from the box, thumb brushing across the engravings. “And you ask for a lighter all the time, so…”

The rat yōkai stared at the lighter for the longest time, snapping it open with a practiced flick of his wrist. A bright purple flame of magic origin burst into being, swishing in mystified motions. It captivated him. There was a beauty to its color, mysterious and alluring, it was almost perfect.

Danny found himself smiling. Snapping the lighter closed he squeezed Katie’s hand. “You know how t’ leave me speechless.”

“I aim to please,” Katie quoted back at him, sitting upright to better lounge into the sofa. “NOW we’ve got everyone.”

“Not yet.” Danny stood, going for the tree this time, moving through a mound of shredded paper and boxes. “I still haven’t given ya my gift.” He rummaged around for a second before he grabbed onto the object, yanking it free of the mess of tinsel and branches.

She almost had to do a double take. In his hand, having been freed from its hiding place like Excalibur from the stone, was a gorgeous dreadnought acoustic guitar, but by the looks of it this was a custom model. The base of the guitar was dyed a rich reddish-black with a shadowy gradient blending the two tones on the sides, likely mahogany. Nylon strings finely tuned along the thin neck of the instrument. It was massive, bigger than the one she recalled owning years ago before Bishop decided to take a Glock to it.

Katie was left marveling. “Is that…?”

“Heard your old one got shot fulla bullet holes. Thought it was better that ya got an upgrade.” Danny handed her the mighty item. Though it was hollow, it still surprised her that the guitar managed to be slightly taller than herself.

The boys had all flocked to the couch, sitting either on the carpet or on open spots in the couch and loveseat to watch their mother handle the instrument with delicate care. Scarred, calloused fingers smoothed over the polished wood, absorbing its beauty with an awesome breath. “Dios Mio…”

“Helluva beast,” Raph complimented. “Bet it’ll make some great music.”

Flopping onto a couch cushion with his plushie clutched in his arms, Leo eyed the guitar with wonder. “Sooooooo is this the time where I can ask for lessons?”

“Hell no!” Casey barked out a laugh, falling into the loveseat. “If you try to play it, you’ll break the strings!”

“Dude, how would I break it? Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

“Definitely! I’m a pro at anything! Casey Jones can master any instrument!”

“Uh-huh. Sure. I’ll believe that when carrots fly.”

Mondo hopped into the open seat at Katie’s left, tail falling to rest at his lap. “Can you play something for us?”

“Right now?” Katie couldn’t help but chuckle, tuning the strings. “Haven’t really had the time to practice my skills!”

“Come on, please?” Mondo clasped his hands together, putting on the ‘poor puppy dog eyes’ face to better try and convince her, adding the quivering lip for dramatic emphasis. “For Christmas?”

“Ooooh no, I see what you’re doing, it’s not gonna sway me.” Katie teased, but when she looked to her right eye found the soul-crushing teary eyed expressions of Leo and Donnie doing the same thing. These kid and their damn emotional ploys. “… okay, okay, fine, you win.”

Earning cheers from her boys, the detective sat upright to better adjust her grip on the dreadnought, cradling it close, fingers coming to rest upon the base of the guitar prepping for its first performance. It was as though the strings were humming in her ears, an energy beyond her understanding, yearning to be used, to be played, to be heard.

“What’re you gonna play?” Donnie asked.

“Yeah! I mean,” Leo tucked his legs beneath him, eager to listen. “Do you have a song in mind?”

… that was something she hadn’t thought of yet.

Katie spared a glimpse at her boys, looking at their smiling excitable faces. She looked to Danny, leaning against the wall near the tree, regarding her lovingly. She thought of Grace and Lilium, their laughter a distant echo in the sewers as though their aura still remained.

Yeah… she had a song in mind.

Fingers plucked at the nylon strings. A calm melody started to flow from under worn and calloused fingertips. Then, with a soulful voice, the words came free.

“Candles in the window,

Shadows painting the ceiling.

Gazing at the fire glow,

Feeling that gingerbread feeling…”

The boys were instantly captivated; their postures relaxed, lulled by the sweet melody, soothed by her voice, enjoying the company of their strange family whilst Danny’s smile softened significantly, watching on in silent pride.

“Precious moments.

Special people.

Happy faces.

I can see…”

Katie’s heart felt lighter than air. The stirring of emotions that had conquered the woman’s otherwise tense and painful heart had finally allowed for the vulnerable side to break through, to be willing to open herself up and be freed from the overwhelming amount of grief that had kept her tethered to her shortcomings. Yes, she had lost a part of herself that would likely never be returned to her. She doubted the likelihood of the family reunion she’d desperately longed for with Grace and her niece.

Yes, she’d never get to see them again… but Katie still had a family.

She had her boys. She had Danny. She had them… and they would always have her there to keep them supported.

And that was more than enough.

“Somewhere in my memory

Christmas joys all around me.

Living in my memory,

All of the music. All of the magic.

All of the family home here, with me…”

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

Tada!! Hope you liked this!! It was fun to get this done! The song Katie’s singing is a cover rendition of ‘Somewhere in my Memory’ from Home Alone! I liked this version a ton so I imagined Katie would sing like this!

Enjoy, and see ya soon!! 😊

@queen-with-the-quill @tending-the-hearth @lameboobah @wasted-and-ready @figuringitoutasigoalong @tmnt-tychou

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt au #familia: forever #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt oc #tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt mutant mayhem #tmnt 2007 #tmnt mondo gecko #tmnt 2012 casey jones #tmnt raphael #mm donnie #rottmnt leo #rottmnt dastardly danny

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gillianthecat · 2 years ago

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Annual Tag Game for 2022 aka Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

(it's still 2022 in a few time zones!)

Thanks for the tag @amos-reviews, @petrichoraline, @chimerasinourskyline and @catwalkninja ❤

• three ships •

I don’t know how to pick favorites, but these are three that I loved that jumped out when I looked through my spreadsheet.

Yai and Mangkorn, Big Dragon

Gao Shi De and Zhou Shu Yi, We Best Love

Seo Joon and Ji Woo, To My Star (1 & 2)

• first ships •

I puzzled over this for a while, because I only thought in terms of “shipping” in the past few years. But I think the first fictional romantic relationship that I remember actively thinking about was Talia and Kris from Mercedes Lackey’s Arrows of the Queen. Which is an interesting place to start because (spoiler alert, of a sort) they didn’t have a romantic relationship, they were very good friends who became fuckbuddies (although I didn’t yet know that word at age 11 or 12) even though her soulmate was someone else. In retrospect, I think that set me up very well for thinking of relationships both in fiction and real life–that sex could be something fun and free and didn’t needed to be saved for one person, that sex and romance didn’t always have to go together. And although I wasn’t that interested in Talia’s relationship with Dirk, her soulmate, I didn’t want her to end up with Kris instead, I enjoyed their friendship as it was. So does that count as shipping? I don’t know. In terms of characters who weren't together in the story that I thought should be together? I have no idea who the first were.

• last song •

We were listening to Barbara Streisand Christmas album earlier this evening. It seemed appropriate somehow to listen to Christmas songs sung by a famously Jewish woman on New Year’s Eve.

Although technically, I suppose the last song I heard was whatever Billie Eilish’s brother Phineas was singing on ABC’s New Year’s Eve show in LA. I don’t know what the song was; we were too busy trying to figure out if he was Billy Eilish’s brother to pay attention to that.

• last movie •

Glass Onion

• currently reading •

ehhh. nothing. I didn’t even get any books for Christmas. I really haven’t been reading much of anything lately, which is odd for me, someone whose identity has often been “reader.” I guess I’ve been keeping up with Taylor Fitzpatrick’s hockey stories as I’m emailed updates, but that’s about it. I think my most recent book was Naomi Novak’s The Golden Enclaves.

• currently watching •

To Sir With Love

GAP the series

Between Us

My School President

Never Let Me Go

Till the End of The World

Candy Color Paradox

True Beauty (Korean het romcom)

The New Employee

Although many of these I’m several weeks behind on.

• currently eating •

We had lasagna for dinner, which turned out quite well, I’m pleased with it, along with asparagus, salad and garlic bread, and for desert we had chocolate fondue with all sorts of fruit and marshmallows and pretzels, because my parents are very into fun little things and have all these little individual sized fondue pots with tealights they wanted to use.

• craving •

In terms of food, absolutely nothing, I am so full right now. In terms of other things, I guess a few days completely to myself? This visit has actually been pretty low key and I’ve had plenty of down time, it’s more that the week and a half I thought I would have to myself when I get back is not to be since I’m helping my brother move then and it turns out my parents will be coming with me to help as well. So I’m feeling a little stressed about getting overwhelmed by people, and thus craving alone time more because it feels like it’s been stolen from me unexpectedly.

I'm going to tag the last (taggable) 9 people who followed me, although I have no idea if any of you are interested in doing this: @0persimmon @kdramaandbts2022 @sweetsorrow059518 @gabriel-the-angel @rainbowstan @puppydeul-blog @bri-with-luv @angelsindeepconversation @99pacificpassions. Hi new friends!

#tag game #bl watchlist #about gillianthecat #gillianthecat's life #arrows of the queen #mercedes lackey

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squid-ink-blog · 10 days ago

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7 of Dem Weirdos- Chapter 1

HEY! so for context- this is a silly little story that I'm making for me and my Partner (We'll call them Fenrir). Fenrir has DID and sometimes we make little stories of how it would be if I were to meet all of them. SO... here's a BIG story of if I were to just teleport into them. SO yeah, enjoy... this was made like a year ago.

I tap my foot against the cold pavement as I glare at my phone. Another missed call…

I sigh and wrap my coat tighter against my body then turn my face towards the street. I’m giving them 20 more minutes before I find a ride back home. Something I’ve definitely said about an hour ago. Why did I even struggle to try to plan this stupid date for weeks if they aren’t even going to have the basic decency to show up at all?

With a huff, I pushed myself off the fence beside the amusement park's entrance and went ahead to pay for the entry ticket. I wasn’t going to continue to sit around and wait for someone to show up if they didn’t want to.

I walk around the park grounds, avoiding the passing clusters of people and looking around disinterested in the carnival games that I’d normally flock to. Eventually, I end up sluggishly walking in front of a brightly lit booth. Beside me, a couple kids were playing one of those games where you use a water gun to knock down clown pins. I wouldn’t call myself a marksmen, but I do knock down a good chunk of those fuckers. So I handed the guy working the booth three bucks and took my place in front of a neon green water gun. My mouth quivered with a little pride as I was handed a small multi-colored tiger thing after knocking down half the pins, but it immediately darkened watching a guy winning one of those huge unicorn plushies in a basketball game and handing it over to their giddy partner.

I continue watching that couple long after they walk away from the next door booth and much longer than the socially acceptable amount of time someone should watch people. Shaking my head, I decide to stop being a weirdo and start walking. As I go to sit down at the long picnic tables near the center of the park, I think about my own partner. Wolf and I have been dating since the beginning of our college freshman year. It’s been a pretty smooth two years with mostly just stupid small spats here and there with nothing that lasted past a couple of days. We’ve been nearly inseparable from the start: talking endlessly on the phone, engaging in physical contact at all times together, and rooming together since sophomore year. They listen to my troubles, care for me more than most have and all around have been the best partner I’ve ever had. Which may not seem as much since they’re my first, but hey- that’s life.

Recently, however, it's been…dry I guess. I mean, I know I’m needy, but I think even for the normal person they’ve been distant. I noticed it a couple months ago when it wasn’t as bad. We’d watch movies, hangout, make out even and the enthusiasm was lacking. I’d look into Wolf’s eyes and they’d look back indifferently. When asked if anything was wrong, they’d shrug it off and try to distract me with some other activity or sex or gifts.

It gradually got worse to the point where Wolf spent more time holed up in their room painting or working than with friends, let alone me. The few times I was able to drag them out, I was met with a zombie of the person I love.

I’m interrupted from my thoughts as I feel my phone buzz and glance at it to see I got a text from them.

Chief Werewolf: Sorry, tired.

Chief Werewolf: I’ll make it up to you.

I squint my eyes unimpressed and dismiss the notification before shoving my phone back in my pocket and standing up from the bench. A toddler sitting across from me was entranced by the little plushie I won so I handed it over to her before walking around the carnival again.

I walk further and further from the center of the carnival and the crowds of people and find the part near the back where sparse groups of people hang around. It was admittedly a creepy area but I couldn’t find enough reason to really care. I continue walking, not looking at anything in particular until I’m waved down by some classmates standing around a statue. I mentally shrug and join them to find that the statue was part of a wishing well they huddled around chatting. Was I sitting with them? Yes. Was I engaged in conversation? Yes. Did I actually retain anything that was being said? Absolutely not. But luckily, I was able to push Wolf out of my mind for a good solid 5 minutes before someone handed me a penny to make a wish.

I snort as the coin is pressed into my hand because even though I can suspend the belief that wishing well wishes can come true, I know that this was super dumb. But what type of person would I be to not do stupid fun things like waste money?

I close my eyes and press the penny up to my lips as I mouth my wish into the coin. What should I wish for? Couple years back, I’d wish for a partner but I’ve kinda achieved that. Thank you to all those birthday wishes and dandelions I blow. My eyebrows furrow again as a memory from a couple weeks ago pops in my head.

I was able to force myself into Wolf’s room with sheer willpower. I had another one-sided hangout where I decided to paint alongside the moody asshole. I asked what they were painting as the canvas was mostly splashes of dark reds, purples, and blacks. They didn’t say anything. Wolf stood, silently staring at the canvas with tired eyes. I went back to my own painting after that and after a while peeked up to see them paint a huge white circle in the middle.

I mentally shake off the memory before sighing. I wish I was able to get into Wolf’s head. I roll my eyes at the stupid thought and made a flimsy wish about getting a million bucks before tossing the little thing in the well and listening to the little metal clink because of course there was no water. I laugh with the others and someone suggests going to a party on campus. Now I’ve never been one for parties, but something came over me. Maybe because I was surrounded by some dope people, maybe I was feeling extroverted, maybe it’s because I didn’t want to walk into a cold and empty-feeling dorm yet. But I swung my arm around someone’s neck and cheered before half skipping with the others.

#original story #did system #romance #shrug emoji #i love my partner #here we goooo

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study-coffee-chicago · 2 years ago

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I Can’t Believe You (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister imagine)

A/N: I've had this idea for awhile and then an anon on asked me about Beary so I figured I'd write this (Note: This is not part of the Seasons of PD/Med universe, I just wanted Beary to be in it. It is a total separate imagine from that series).

Anyways, enjoy!

"You're both leaving for an undercover assignment?" you asked Jay for the second time today.

"Yes, I already told you, Y/N," Jay said as he worked on packing his bag. "Voight needed it to look like we were a married couple, and since Hailey and I are already married, he thought it would work perfectly."

"Don't tell me I have to--"

"I already called Will. I'll bring you over to his place tonight at eight."

"Why?" you whined. "Jay, I'm eighteen. I can handle myself just fine."

"Y/N, this op could go on for weeks. So that means, bad guys have more time to figure out who I really am. And if they figure that out, I don't need you being here by yourself."

"But Will doesn't even own a gun!" you argued.

"Uh, yes he does," Jay said and you cocked an eyebrow. "If you two had bothered to talk for the past year and a half, you'd know he owns one and knows how to shoot it."

"It's his fault with all of this. I told him the truth."

"Yeah, well, we didn't find any evidence to back either of your claims, so you guys have a bit of time to work this out."

"You really can't just have patrol sit on the apartment?" you asked desperately.

"No. I can't have them sit outside our apartment building for who knows how long. You're staying with Will. End of discussion. Now, go pack a bag."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Now go."

"Jay," you whined. "I'm eighteen and it's the summer before college. I'm gonna spend it all being babysat?"

Jay laughed. "Not all of it. A couple weeks max."

"A couple weeks too many," you muttered as you walked away and to your room.

You and Will had never been super close siblings, but you had been closer before everything popped off a year and a half ago.

You had just turned sixteen a couple of months ago and relished your newfound freedom. And now, it was the holidays, which typically meant that Jay took a bit of furlough and Will came back from New York to spend time with the two of you. Jay's new girlfriend, Hailey, might also spend Christmas Eve with you three. You didn't mind; you really liked her. Plus, it was nice having a girl around for a change.

You were sitting at home watching a movie with your friend, Megan, when there was a knock on the door.

Jay had always told you to either look out the peephole or not answer the door at all when you were home alone. He always told you that he made a lot of enemies with the job he did, and he didn't want you hurt because of it. You were just about to get up and look out the peephole when your phone rang.

It was Will.

"Hello?" you asked.

"You mind opening the door for me? I look like I'm homeless standing outside your apartment with a suitcase."

You laughed. "Yup. I'm coming."

The minute he came inside, he gave you a bone-crushing hug. "Ugh, I missed you."

"Missed you, too," you replied as you pulled away. "But can we not do all this here? I have a friend over."

"Aww, I'm embarrassing you. That's a rite of passage for us," Will joked and then messed with your hair.

"Stop it," you said and moved away from him.

Megan laughed. "Hey, I think it's cool that you have older brothers who are nice to you. I only have an annoying little sister. I wish I had big brothers."

"No, you don't. Any mention of boys around them sends them both into lecture mode."

"Well, I guess I'll go unpack and leave the two of you girls alone," he said and left the room.

What he didn't realize was that he had left his medical bag on the kitchen table in plain sight.

***

"What do you even keep in here anyway?" you asked curiously and pointed to Will's medical bag, a few hours later when Megan had left and Jay was home.

"Stuff that Jay might need because he's injury prone."

"Haha, very funny." Jay rolled his eyes. Then, he moved and started opening the medical bag.

"Hey!" Will yelled. "That's for doctors only."

"And if I'm gonna be the patient, I have a right to know what you're using on me."

Then, Jay started rummaging through the bag, but Will quickly pulled it away from him. "Fine, if you two are that nosy and want to know, then I'll just tell you."

He told you what was in there and then you thought he was finished, but instead, he furrowed his eyebrows and started frantically rummaging through the bag.

"Forget something?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, I can't find the Norco I put in here."

"Isn't that the stuff they gave me when I got my wisdom teeth out?" you asked. "That stuff just made me tired all the time."

"Yeah," Will said. "And I swore I grabbed some--and went through the entire process of getting it--but it's not here."

"Maybe you just left it at home?" Jay suggested.

"No. This is a controlled substance, Jay. I know I had it." Will's eyes locked on yours. If he had left it in the kitchen while he was unpacking, then you could've taken it. "Y/N, did you open my medical bag while I was unpacking?"

"What? No!" you exclaimed. "If you're saying that I took the meds, then you're wrong. You seriously came back in here after being away and just blame me for something going missing, seriously?"

"Nobody's blaming anybody," Jay said quickly. "It was just a question."

"Yeah, well, it sounded like he was blaming me," you muttered.

"Maybe I am," Will shot back.

"Guys," Jay said. "Just hang on a sec. There's no way Y/N stole the meds."

"You weren't even home, Jay! So how would you know?"

In the end, Will left to go back to New York a few days later because he was convinced that you had stolen the meds. Jay even tossed your room because he had been siding with Will. But, really, Jay had no idea who to believe because he hadn't found them, so you were neither guilty nor innocent.

But, when winter break was over, you caught Megan selling them at school. You thought about telling Jay but didn't want to wreck her life this early, so you kept quiet and just stopped being friends with her. You thought about calling Will and explaining the situation, but you knew he'd just tell Jay. So, you kept quiet. And by doing so, you lost your entire relationship with your oldest brother.

"You all packed?" Jay asked after he knocked on your bedroom door.

"Yup. I'm coming." You quickly grabbed your favorite blanket and your pillow and then stuffed your Build-A-Bear, Beary, into your pillowcase, and then stuffed your pillow into your bag.

You had had that bear for as long as you could remember and couldn't sleep without it. Even though you were old enough now that you didn't need to cuddle him up to your chest to fall asleep, you still wanted him within arm's reach. For example, whenever you went to friends' houses to stay the night in high school, you'd shove Beary in your pillow case and then you'd sleep with your hand in the pillowcase to hold his paw or you'd slip him out of your pillow once everyone was asleep and have him next to you, but covered with your sleeping bag so no else could see.

Jay of course knew that you still slept with Beary, and by default, so did Hailey.

"Got everything?" Jay asked when you left your room.

"Yeah. Toiletries are in the duffle bag, too."

"Beary?" he asked. "I don't want you coming back here when both me and Hailey are under."

"In my pillowcase," you answered.

"Still in the same pajamas he's always in?" Jay smirked.

You whacked him on the chest. "Yes. You know as well as I do that all my old Build-A-Bear stuff is in our storage unit."

"Just checking. C'mon. Let's get outta here. Hailey's already waiting for me at the district."

He grabbed your blanket for you and slung his own black duffle bag over his shoulder while you did the same with yours and carried your pillow in your hands.

Time to go see Will and talk to him for the first time in a year and a half.

This was definitely going to be interesting.

***

"Hey, man," Jay said when Will opened the door, and then you and Jay walked into his house. "Thanks for doing this."

"No problem. Well, I mean it was a bit of a problem given--" Jay gave Will a look that made Will shut his mouth immediately. Will cleared his throat. "You wanna stay for pizza?"

"No, I gotta go. But, if you or Y/N need anything, call Adam or Kim. They'll be able to tell Voight to get in contact with me. Y/N has all their numbers."

"Got it," Will said.

You just stood awkwardly in the entryway and watched the exchange with your duffle slung over your shoulder.

"Anyway, I gotta go," Jay said. "Be good," he told you.

You laughed. "Jay, I'm not a little kid anymore."

"Yeah? Well, you're still younger than me, so you know what that makes you? A little kid."

You rolled your eyes and then he pulled you in for a hug.

"Be safe," you told him as tears pricked your eyes. "I can't lose you, too."

Jay smiled sadly. "Always am. You don't need to worry about me. I've got the best team in Chicago watching my six."

And then he went and gave Will a hug and he left, leaving you and your brother who you hadn't talked to in a year and a half alone.

"So," Will started, "I, uh, ordered pizza if you're hungry."

You were a little hungry. "Okay."

***

Dinner went well...as well as it could have gone considering the circumstances. The two of you didn't really talk much. He asked you about school and where you planned to go to college in the summer and you told him CCU, but also assumed that Jay had already told him that you planned on going to CCU anyway. You asked him how work was and he said it was fine. You asked him if he saw any interesting cases lately and he said that he couldn't get into a lot of them because of HIPAA regulations.

Then, you put your plate in the dishwasher and he showed you to the guest bedroom, which was where you'd be staying for the next week or however long Jay was undercover. At least there was a tv in here and a lock on the door. So, you could always hide in here if you needed to get away from Will for a while.

You sighed and opened your duffle bag to grab your pajamas, headphones, and phone charger. Only, the first thing that you saw on top was a pair of jeans, which were definitely too big for you. Okay, so maybe Jay accidentally threw his jeans in your duffle by accident. They were identical black duffle bags after all.

So, you started digging through the bag.

When you got to the bottom, that was when you began to panic.

It's not like you couldn't have Adam or Kim come with you to your apartment to help you get clothes and you could always buy a new phone charger and a cheap pair of headphones that would last you the few weeks you were here. No, the problem was that Beary had been in your duffle bag.

And, he wasn't in this one.

You don't think a day had gone by since you were the age of two that you didn't sleep with that Build-A-Bear. And, you'd be damned if you started now.

Jay had only left an hour ago, so maybe he was still reachable.

You pulled out your phone and quickly dialed Jay's number. No answer. You tried again. No answer. You tried one final time. No answer.

This time though, you decided to leave a voicemail. "Call me. It's an emergency."

You flopped onto the bed and ended the call. You sighed in frustration as tears pricked your eyes.

There was a knock on your door, which caused you to bolt upright.

"What's an emergency?" Will asked from the hallway.

"Uh, nothing! Everything's fine!" you yelled back quickly.

"Doesn't sound fine," Will said and then he paused. "I'm coming in. Are you decent?"

"Yeah," you answered and then sat back down on the bed and crossed your arms over your chest.

"What's going on?" Will asked when he entered and saw your sour expression.

"Nothing," you lied again.

"Didn't sound like nothing."

"I'm not lying to you!" Will threw his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Plus, you'd think it's stupid anyway."

"Contrary to popular belief, I am trying here or else I wouldn't have you staying here. Sure, you're not the easiest person to get along with because of everything that went down, but I can still be decent with you."

You sighed. Maybe he was being truthful. Maybe you should tell him what's going on. After all, you weren't going to call Kim or Adam for this. So really, Will was your only hope.

"I accidentally grabbed Jay's bag instead of mine and...um...Beary's in there and I can't sleep without him," you finally admitted.

Will stared at you for a few seconds and you could've sworn he was going to burst out laughing and tell you to grow the fuck up. Instead, he surprised you by sitting down next to you on the bed.

"I can help you...if you want."

You looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. Who was this guy and what has he done with your brother? "Really?"

"Yeah. After everything between us, we're still family." You started to say thank you, but he quickly cut you off. "This doesn't mean that we're good. It just means that I'm helping you so that you'll be able to get some sleep while you're here."

"Noted."

"We'll check the apartment first. C'mon."

***

"Jay told me not to come here without a cop, so Adam or Kim," you told him as the two of you entered the apartment.

"And you didn't tell me this before, because...?" Will asked.

"Because I knew you wouldn't let me come here if I told you that."

"No, I'd just make you call Kim or Adam so that they could meet us here."

"Well, I don't need them knowing I sleep with a teddy bear."

"Aww, you're embarrassed."

"Shut up. Last I checked, we're not friends, just family."

"Ouch. I never said that."

"Yeah, well you implied it. Now, are you gonna help me look, or are you just gonna stand there?"

"Where do you want me to look?" Will asked.

"Kitchen, living room area. I'm gonna check my room. But, I could've sworn I put him in my bag when I was packing."

Then, you walked off to your bedroom.

First, you looked at your bed and even patted down your pillows. You knew you had shoved him into your pillowcase, but maybe he fell out.

Nothing.

Then you looked around your bed on the floor and even under your bed.

Nothing.

You checked everywhere in your bedroom and in your closet. You checked under clothes on the floor and even in your hamper.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You sat on your bed and put your head in your hands.

He was gone. If he wasn't in your room, you highly doubted he'd be in the kitchen or the living room or anywhere else that Will was looking.

You assumed at this point, that your comfort item was with Jay since he had probably had your bag.

Then you had a thought: What if you never saw Beary again?

After all, Jay was undercover. Anything could happen.

"No," you muttered as tears slowly started to roll down your face. "No."

You and your mom had gone together to get that bear. And now, you might lose the last piece of your mom.

That was what finally broke you. Your body began to rack with sobs as you had that thought.

"I couldn't find him-- whoa. You good?" Will asked as he walked into your room.

You looked up with a glare. "Do I look like I'm fucking good, Will? Of course, I'm not good!"

"What's your problem? I'm trying to help you here!"

At this, you shot up and off your bed and got right up close to Will. "No, Jay made you watch me! I know you didn't choose to do this! You didn't even come to my fucking graduation or see me on my birthdays or send a birthday card! The only reason I saw you on Christmas is because you came to see Jay! I know you blame me for losing your job in New York. You fucking hate me, Will! Just admit it."

Without waiting for Will to respond, you marched out of your room and into the bathroom, slamming the door and quickly locking it.

You remembered the last time you had hope of Will showing up for something. It was a few months ago, at your high school graduation.

Anything from Will? you had texted Jay as you sat in a chair in your high school gym in your cap and gown. You had scanned the crowd where Jay, Hailey, Adam, Kim, Kelly, and Stella were sitting at least ten times by now.

Nothing yet, Jay replied. Then, he sent another text. I'm really sorry Y/N. I've reminded him almost every day for a month.

It's okay, you replied and took a deep breath to keep your tears at bay. You were supposed to cry after your graduation, not before. Then you sent another text. I'm used to it.

Up in the bleachers, this text broke Jay's heart. He knew the two of you had your history, but he never thought it would've gone on for this long.

Unbeknownst to you, Jay had been watching for signs that you were using or dealing after Will had accused you of stealing his Norco. And, he hadn't seen anything. But, he also didn't know anything about this Megan girl because you stopped hanging out with her after she had been at your apartment when the meds went missing. So, he was 95% sure that you didn't steal them, but since he couldn't be 100% sure, he didn't mention anything to Will. He knew that it was your and Will's issue to work out. But, he never thought that Will would hold a grudge against his own sister for this long.

Sure, he had missed things such as your seventeenth and eighteenth birthdays, but that was only because he had been working...at least, that's what Jay had told you. On your seventeenth, he was still in New York, so you had at least expected a card, but one never came. So, when he was back in Chicago for your eightieth birthday, there was a small part of you that hoped for a birthday card, but a large part of you that knew that you wouldn't get one. The larger part of you was right.

But, today was different. It was the culmination of years of late nights and crying over math homework and stupid teachers and projects and exams. You thought Will would at least show up to this since it was his regular day off during the week, a Wednesday, but he wouldn't even do that.

***

"Where do you want to go out to eat, kiddo?" Jay asked after you had gotten pictures with Jay and the rest of the people who had come to see you graduate.

"Can we just go home?" you asked desperately as you tried your hardest to hold back tears. "Please?" Your voice cracked on the last word, giving you away.

Jay smiled sadly. "If that's what you want to do, then we can do that."

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you said quickly and then started walking away. You didn't want to cry in front of everyone.

Once in the bathroom, you leaned your head against the bathroom door and let the tears fall. How could you have been so stupid to think that Will would've actually shown up? You should've known he wouldn't come. He still hated you.

You had heard him on the phone with Jay one time saying that he got written up for not having documentation of what patient that Norco went to and what it was administered for. And then, a month later, Will got fired. So, in Will's mind, you had gotten him fired from his job as a plastic surgeon in New York.

"Y/N?"

It was Hailey.

You sniffled. "In- In here," you told her. Then, you unlocked the bathroom stall and stepped out. "Sorry." You frantically began wiping your tears, not even caring about your makeup being messed up at this point.

"No, honey," Hailey said quickly. You don't have anything to be sorry about," she told you.

At that, you almost broke. "I don't- I don't want anyone to see me like- like this," you cried as quietly as you could, but loud enough so that Hailey could still hear you.

"Don't worry. Stella's guarding the door. She even has her CFD badge with her so people believe her when she says a pipe burst and no one can come in here."

"I know- I know I shouldn't care because he doesn't, but I wanted him here. Will should've been here!" you wailed.

"I know, I know," Hailey soothed and then quickly gave you a hug. "I know."

"Mom and Dad aren't- aren't here. Will's not here. I barely have any- have any family left."

"I know it's not the same, but you'll always have people there for you. Me, Kim, Adam, Kelly, Stella, Matt, and everyone else at 51, and Med has your back."

"But why do I still hope that he'll change, Hailey?" you asked. "Why do I keep thinking he'll finally show up?"

Hailey sighed. She knew this feeling far too well. "Until you finally decide in your head and your heart that it's time to let go, then you'll never stop hoping. And then one day, you finally realize that they won't be in your life and you make peace with it. It took me years, Y/N. Years. And, it's okay to have hope that Will will come back into your life; you just have to be realistic about it."

You didn't know what to say to that, so you stood there and hugged her.

"You ready to go back out there? I'm sure if you wanted some takeout Jay wouldn't have a problem getting it."

"And ice cream?" you asked and looked up at her.

"I'm sure I could convince him to stop for ice cream on the way home, too."

"Did I hear something about ice cream?" Stella asked three minutes later when you had wiped your tears and blotted your face with a piece of wet paper towel...which didn't do much, but it had been worth a shot. "Because, if so, I'm ditching Kelly and coming home with you guys."

And that was how you ended the night, instead of dinner, you and everyone who had come to your graduation went out for ice cream. And, on the way home when it was just you, Hailey, and Jay, you stopped at Wendy's to get an actual dinner.

You still wished that Will had been there, though.

"Y/N?" Will asked as he knocked on the door. "You in there?"

"Where else would I be, huh?" you yelled back.

"I dunno, you could've climbed out a window or something and scaled the drainpipe. It's dangerous, but I wouldn't put it past a Halstead. Anyway, I'm sorry."

"Ha. Yeah right."

"No, really I am. I just- can you just let me in?"

You sighed and reluctantly stood up and unlocked the door. "What?"

"I thought you could use some space."

"No, really? Why would you think that? And, if you thought that so much, then why are you bugging me?"

"Listen, you have every right to be upset."

"About you or about Beary?" you asked and cocked an eyebrow and put a hand on your hip, a tactic you had learned from Hailey when she'd ask Jay a question that she knew that he knew she already knew the answer to.

Will sighed and pushed past you into the bathroom, which left you with a frustrated expression on your face. He turned to face you and then you hopped up on the counter and sat there. You crossed your arms over your chest. What could he possibly say that would fix things?

"About me," Will finally answered your previous question. "You didn't deserve to be treated like that. I should've let you explain yourself."

"I tried, Will. I really fucking tried to explain! Hell, I even saw her selling them at school the day we got back from Christmas break!"

At this, Will's facial expression changed from one of forgiveness to one of shock. "What? Did you tell Jay?"

"Of course, I didn't tell Jay!" you snapped. "You would've known about it if I had told him right when it happened, wouldn't you?" You paused. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's okay. I, uh, I probably actually deserve that. All this and the stuff you said to me earlier, I mean. I haven't been the best big brother. I know that."

"The first step is admitting you have a problem."

At this, Will cracked a smile. "You've been spending way too much time at the district, haven't you?"

"Probably."

You thought that the two of you were good enough at this point, maybe not close, more like acquaintances, so you started to walk out of the bathroom.

"Y/N, wait," Will called to your retreating back.

"What?"

"There's something else I need to tell you."

You made your way back into the bathroom so that you were standing directly in front of him. "Which is...?"

He pushed himself onto the counter and then sat there. "You didn't get me fired. Sure, the missing documentation for why the meds were used, did give me a write-up, but I wasn't fired because of it."

"So, it wasn't because of me?" you asked. You needed confirmation on this. You had believed, for a year, that it was your friend's actions—which Will thought had been your actions—that had gotten him fired.

"It wasn't because of you. I guess I pissed off the wrong person at work when I told them that they shouldn't be having more plastic surgery because it wouldn't have any benefits. And, it wasn't medically necessary." He paused and cracked a smile. "Yeah, don't say that to someone whose husband is one of the hospital's biggest donors. I only got a small write-up for not having documentation of who the Norco went to and why it was used."

At this, tears began to fill your eyes. "I thought you hated me. You made me believe that it was my fault, that everything was my fault."

"It wasn't your fault. I guess I should've sided with you in the first place. I trusted you more than I trusted this random friend of yours after all."

"I saw her," you said. "I saw her selling them at school. And- And I didn't tell Jay because I didn't want to ruin her life before she even graduated. If I just would've—"

"No, she sold them. You had nothing to with this."

At this, you stood on your tip toes and hugged Will from where he was sitting on the counter.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," he reassured. "It's okay."

"I thought- I thought I'd never talk to you again. That you'd hate me."

"Well, I don't hate you. And, we're talking right now, so I'd say that was wrong."

At this, you laughed a little. "I guess so."

"Now, I'll give you a few minutes to get cleaned up, and then we can figure out the next steps to go and find Beary."

***

"I cannot believe you're making me call Kim and tell her I still sleep with a stuffed animal," you grumbled as you scrolled through your phone to Kim's contact.

"If you don't want to find Beary, then don't call her. But, if you want to find him, calling Kim and Adam is probably our last chance."

You pressed Kim's contact and she surprisingly picked up on the second ring.

"Burgess," she said.

"Hey, Kim, it's Y/N. Is Jay still at the district with you?" you asked and tapped your foot anxiously.

"He just left about two hours ago. Why? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. It's just that...Jay took my bag instead of his and um...uh..." Will rolled his two pointer fingers in the circular motion, silently telling you to wrap it up. "My Build-A-Bear that I sleep with every night is in there and I can't sleep without him. I know it's just a stuffed animal but--"

"Hey, it's a comfort item. Makayla's got her platypus, you have your bear. I'll give Jay a call. He and Hailey haven't had a ton of time yet, which means they're not in super deep with---" She caught herself before she revealed who the team was going after. "They're not in super deep with them yet, so I might be able to get a location for you guys to meet. I'll call you back within an hour."

"Okay, thanks, Kim. And, uh, can you try and not tell everyone the reason for this? Just say I grabbed the wrong bag or something?" You didn't need everyone in Intelligence knowing you slept with a stuffed animal. After all, now half the team, Jay, Hailey, and Kim knew you slept with one, you didn't need the other half knowing as well.

"Will do. I'll call you back soon."

Then, she hung up.

"Good news?" Will asked once you had put your phone back in your pocket.

"She's gonna call Jay," you told him. "She said he shouldn't be in too deep undercover yet, so he might be able to get Beary to me somehow. Said she'll call me back within an hour."

"So, what do you wanna do until then? Just go back home...as in my house?" he asked.

You shrugged.

"Or, we could go split an ice cream mountain?" he suggested.

You laughed. "You're kidding."

"I'm dead serious. C'mon, let's go get some ice cream."

***

The two of you sat at a picnic table outside your favorite ice cream shop in Canaryville. You had been coming here since before you could even remember. And, they had this thing called Ice Cream Mountain, which was three mountains of soft serve ice cream with hot fudge, caramel, Oreos, whipped cream, and cherries all served on a Frisbee.

"You want the first bite?" Will asked.

"You're offering to let me have the first bite? You and Jay always argued over the first bite."

"After everything that's happened, I think it's only fair if I give that up."

"Don't mind if I do." Then, you dug your spoon into a mound of chocolate soft serve ice cream and made sure you had as many Oreo pieces in it as your spoon could manage. "Mhhhhm."

"Good?" Will asked.

"Amazing. Your turn."

And that's how the two of you spent the next fifteen minutes: eating ice cream just like you were kids again. That was until your phone rang.

"Can you get him back?" you asked as you put your spoon down and answered the call from Kim.

"We can get it back. Jay said to meet him in the back parking lot of IHOP. The one near CCU," she answered.

"Okay, we'll be there." You quickly ended the call and then relayed the information to Will. There were only a few spoonfuls of ice cream left which you called dibs on before Will and then ate them.

Then, the two of you were off to go retrieve Beary.

***

"That's him," you told Will. "Unlock the car."

Will quickly did so and Jay looked around and then walked casually to Will's car and hopped in the backseat.

"So, how's the night been?" Jay asked.

"Why's it matter? Give me Beary," you answered quickly. "I swear to God, Jay if you don't have him--"

"Relax, I have him. I just want you to answer the question first."

"It's been good. We got ice cream," you told him. "Ice Cream Mountain."

"So, are you too good now?" Jay asked.

"I think we are," you said. "Will?"

"Yeah, we made up. I even gave her the first bite of Ice Cream Mountain."

"Good. Glad to hear it." Then, he grabbed his phone. "We're all good, guys," he said into it.

"Thank god I can go home now," you heard Adam's voice come from the other end.

Then, the door to the backseat opened again and you froze.

"It's just Hailey," Jay answered.

"You said this would take at least a week," she started. "It only took a few hours."

"Must've been an easy case then," Will said.

"Case? You didn't tell them?" Hailey asked.

"Tell us what?" you asked and looked back and forth between Hailey and Jay.

"There was no case," Jay admitted.

"What? Then why'd you do this to me?" you asked. "You made me freak out and lose Beary for nothing!"

"Technically, he wasn't lost," Jay started to explain. "A few weeks ago, I decided enough was enough between you and Will, so I talked to Hailey and then Kim and Adam and we set this up. There was no case. Me and Hailey were just gonna get a hotel until you made up. But, then I figured it might happen faster if I grabbed the wrong bag and took Beary, so that's what we did."

"You're an ass," Will laughed.

"But, it worked, didn't it?"

"I can't believe you," you stated.

"What's there not to believe?"

"That you would intentionally take Beary from me!"

Jay opened the duffle bag. "He's right here. Safe and sound." He held the open bag to you and he was right. Beary was right where you had thought you had put him in your duffle bag.

"I say we all get IHOP to celebrate," Hailey suggested.

"And that's why we were supposed to come here, too, isn't it?" Will asked.

"Yup. But, you guys just had ice cream, so we can just go home if you want," Jay answered

"Halstead movie night?" you asked.

That was where each of you picked a movie and you watched all three of them together. But, now that Hailey was a Halstead, there would be four movies to watch.

"What's a Halstead movie night?" Hailey asked.

"Of course, he didn't tell you," Will said. And then Will quickly explained what it was.

"Me and Hailey will go get the snacks and you two can go back to our apartment and start figuring out what you want to watch," Jay told you.

"Okay," you said. Then, Jay and Hailey left the car and when they were safely gone, you said, "We're leaving Jay's bag at your house. Karma."

"Deal," Will agreed and then started driving.

You never thought Beary would be what brought you and your oldest back together, but hey, crazier things have happened.

A/N: Thank you for reading and as always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @911ls-tarlos @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88 @glitterquadricorn @luvreading67 @smoothdogsgirl @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff

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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago

Text

In Need of a Breath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 4007

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Zemo, Feelings, Another PTSD Flashback

A/N: So…Part 4 is going to have a couple parts to it. Maybe even three. I didn’t even make it half way through the episode on this one, mainly because I really wanted to fit in the Reader’s backstory and I wanted her and Sam to have a heart-to-heart again. I’m suuuuper tired, so I probably won’t be posting the next part for another few hours (it’s 5 am right now and I haven’t slept), BUT it’s my day off work and I won’t be doing anything I planned because my grandmother had a stroke a couple days ago so plans have changed and I’m staying in to help her, meaning I’ll mostly be writing all day.

This Part is kind of a mix between off-screen and shot-by-shots, but it’s mostly off screen/what’s going on inside Reader’s head.

I’m really excited about future parts and the characters that are being introduced! I will say that after these parts, I will be doing one shots of previous MCU movies with the Reader, due to the information that is being given about the Reader now. You kind of see more of how she was affected/how she affected the previous MCU movies and what she was doing during that time.

Like always, this hasn’t been beta’d, again it’s SUPER early in the morning, and I’m really tired, so please excuse any mistakes! I hope you guys enjoy this part! Stay tuned for more to come later today!

FATWS MASTERLIST

cjsinkythoughts MASTERLIST

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

“You know…I’m really starting to regret saying yes to this.” You huffed out, craning your neck and squinting your eyes against the sun as you stare at the facility in front of you, hating the skin-crawling feeling of being back.

“Would you relax? Whenever you’re nervous, I get nervous, and I don’t wanna be nervous about this.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do either of you have a better plan?” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms.

Gnawing on your lips, you finally take the lead and breathe out, “alright. Let’s go then.” You could feel the hesitance from your - what were they? Partners? Coworkers? Teammates? - the fellas before they started after you.

There was a sick twist in your gut as you entered the building, going through the lobby and security.

You had been there.

You had been there when Zemo impersonated Bucky. You had been there when Zemo unleashed the Winter Soldier at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre Building in Berlin. You had been there during the battle at the airport. You had been there when Zemo turned Tony and Steve against each other in Siberia. You had been there when Zemo tore the Avengers from the inside out. Your family. The only family you’d ever known.

But you’d always been good about pushing your personal feelings aside for the sake of the mission. It’s what you’d been born to do. All you ever knew.

“Hey. Doll. You hear me?”

“Hmm. What?” You looked up from the ground to look into those enchanting blue oceans Bucky had for eyes, staring worriedly down at you, eyebrows pinched and forehead creased.

“I’m going in alone.” You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “Sam already agreed-”

“I didn’t necessarily agree-”

“You’re an Avenger, sweetheart.” Bucky tilted his head, speaking softly, those eyes of his worried. Worried for you. It made your stomach flip. “And you were there in Siberia, and that almost makes it worse. Especially considering you went after him. Just…just let me do this, okay?”

You cracked your knuckles nervously as you thought. It was a terrible idea. But it was an idea. And it was all they had. “Okay.” You finally relented, shrugging as your hands hit your thighs and slid up to your hips. “But don’t do anything stupid.”

“Steve took all that with him.”

Knowing about their little inside joke, you scoffed. “Sure he did. Go before I change my mind.”

You watched him walk down the hallway, hands fidgeting with excess nerves. “I think you’re the only one he actually seeks approval from.”

“Good thing I’m so lenient then, huh?” You joked, turning to Sam with a strained smile. Your smile slipped at the curious expression on Sam’s face, his eyes darting to each of your features. “What?”

“Are you doing okay?”

You groaned, throwing your head back. You thought you got out of talking about your feelings back in Baltimore. “Oh my God, Sam-”

“I’m serious. You…you just don’t seem like yourself.”

You shook your head, looking down the hall to where Bucky disappeared before turning back to him. It was weird to have a self that people recognized. Your whole life you’d been searching for it and when you finally found it…everything went to shit. “Honestly, Sammy, the only time I’ve ever felt like myself was with the team. Zemo took that away from me and now we’re here, practically begging him for help.”

Sam hummed, leaning against the wall. “Have you thought of taking a break?”

“What?”

“A break.” At your bewildered look, he rolled his eyes. “Cher, this time last year most of us were dead. This time a few months ago you found out about Wanda. This time last week you were out looking for her. Maybe you should just stop and take a breather.”

Shoving your hands in your pocket and looking at the floor, you couldn’t help but snort at his advice. “I haven’t taken a breather since I was eighteen.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s my point. FBI academy as soon as you graduated. SHIELD recruit by 21, undercover operations leader by 24? Slow down. You’re in your thirties. Next thing you know, you’re gonna be ninety something, lying on your deathbed, wishing you had stopped to smell the roses.”

“If I live to be ninety, shoot me.” He chuckled in amusement. “I’m so fucking serious, Sam. I will not be put in an old folks home to play Bingo and be pushed around in a wheelchair. It ain’t happening.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” There was that infectious smile, which you unconsciously grinned back at. “Y/N…I’m serious. You’ve been in and out of missions since you were a teenager. What’s the shortest undercover operation you’ve done?”

“I dunno.”

He gave you an unimpressed look. “Yeah you do.”

Licking your lips, you turned away and shrugged. “A couple months. Seven weeks and three days, to be precise. September to October in 2012.”

“And the longest?”

“August 2007 to May 2009. Twenty one months.”

Letting out a puff of air through his nose, Sam pushed himself off the wall and caught your chin between his fingers to make you look at him. “That’s nearly two years under cover. And I’m sure you went right back under after-”

“I was sitting at a desk for four months doing paperwork on it.” You defended yourself.

He shook his head, brows knitting together, lips drawn down. “You say that as if four months is enough time.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Sammy. I’m out. I’ve been out since Ultron and Sokovia. I haven’t been under in almost a decade-”

“A decade half the world was dead for half of-”

“I wasn’t!”

“I never said you were.” Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. You were always amazed at his ability to keep his emotions in check. To stay cool under pressure. Sometimes you forgot how experienced he was with dealing with other people’s trauma. It was no wonder why Steve thought he’d be good for Bucky. “Listen. All I’m saying is once this is done…don’t go diving back into searching for Wanda. Don’t go running to the kid every time he calls - and I know you’ve been doing that-”

“It’s just been homework and stuff-”

“Y/N.” You stopped, biting your lip at the stern look he gave you. “Go home. Order take out. Binge watch TV. Go for a jog through the park. Actually meet your neighbors. Go grocery shopping. Just…live. If only for a couple weeks. Don’t worry about anyone else. Don’t pick up the phone, don’t drop everything because someone needs you. You need you.”

“I-I…” You shook your head, looking at him, sincerely apologetic. “I can’t. I wish I could. But I can’t. I’ve never had one normal day in my life. I’ve never had someone to care for, never had someone to care for me. I can’t let people I’ve come to…I can’t let them think I don’t care. I don’t even know where I’d go.”

“Whaddya mean?”

You winced, not thrilled for his reaction to your next statement. “I, uh, I sold my apartment in D.C.”

He gaped at you in complete disbelief. “You got it in December!”

“I know, I know. I liked it. I really did, but…I dunno. Nomadic life has always suited me better. It’s what I grew up with.”

He took a breath, making you cringe again. You don’t think you’ve ever legitimately gotten on his nerves like this before. “Have you ever thought that, instead of going with the flow and jumping place to place, putting down roots might actually help?” He cut you off before you could say anything, holding up a finger to stop you from talking. “I can’t imagine going from foster home to foster home like you did. I can’t imagine not having a home for as long as you can remember. Louisiana’s my home. Always has, always will be. But I understand your life has been anything but stable. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why you need some stability.”

You clenched your jaw, crossing your arms. “The Avengers were my stability. Steve was my stability.”

“Because you loved him.”

“I’m not doing this with you again.” You turned to walk down to the lobby to wait for Bucky there, but Sam caught your arm.

“You were in love with him! It’s okay! You two were super close! No one would blame you! Why won’t you just admit it? I’m trying to understand! Why won’t you-”

You tugged your arm away, finally snapping at him. “Because he could never be mine, Wilson! Is that what you wanna hear?!” Sam took a step back at your exclamation. You closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing down the tears. “He could preach all he wanted about moving forwards, Sammy, but we all knew he was stuck in the past. He visited the museum every Thursday because her interview showed in his exhibit on Thursdays. He carried around that broken compass because her picture was in it.” You looked back up at him sadly, shrugging. “And I get it; it’s hard to move past your first love. I get it because…that’s what he was to me.”

There was a silence that blanketed the hallway, before he spoke up hesitantly. “What about Bucky?”

“I thought - I thought I was projecting my feelings for Steve onto him because I knew Steve couldn’t ever…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You thought? What do you think now?”

You cleared your throat. “I’m still figuring that one out.”

“If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

You chuckled, nodding slightly towards him. “Back atcha. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you not being yourself lately, either.”

“It’s…a tough topic.”

You nodded in understanding. “Just know that I’ll support every decision you make as long as you think it’s the right one. Because I trust you. Steve trusted you. It’s all we can do to try to do what’s right. That’s what makes you a good man, Sammy. He gave you that shield for a reason, and if you think what you did was right…I’ll stand by it.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, calming down in each other’s presences and taking comfort knowing you’d be there for each other through thick and thin. “Thank you, cher.”

“Of course, Sammy. Now let’s go see what’s taking the old grump so long.”

He laughed at that, nodding in agreement, taking your offered hand and squeezing it as you made your way down the hall.

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

“What?”

Bucky eyed you as you spluttered, coughing on the water you were drinking. “Please don’t choke, doll.”

“Break him out of jail?!” You repeated his words and blinked at him, absolutely baffled by his plan. “Oh my God.” You groaned as Bucky and Sam started arguing, moving your flashlight around the room. “Where the hell are we?” There was no response as they kept going back and forth.

“Zemo’s gonna mess with our minds! Especially yours! No offense.”

“Heelllloooo!” You tried again. “Where the hell are we?!”

Bucky turned on the lights, giving Sam a look. “Offense.” Glancing at you he quirked an eyebrow. “Stop worrying your pretty lil’ head, sweetheart. You trust me, dontcha?” Your breath hitched at his words. You quickly recovered, huffing and pouting - although you’d deny ever pouting - and crossing your arms. You stood between the guys like that, eyes darting to whoever was speaking, waiting for them to stop so you could actually think.

“Look. Let me just walk you through a hypothetical. Can I walk you through a hypothetical?”

You and Sam exchanged glances. “What did you do?”

“I…didn’t do…anything.” Bucky shrugged.

“How is it that you, one of the most deadliest assassins basically ever, are one of the worst liars I know.” You tilted your head at him, an eyebrow quirking up in confusion.

“Shush it you. Just, okay. The weakest point in any system isn’t the software, the hardware, it’s the meatware. The human element.”

The more you listened to Bucky’s “hypothetical”, the stronger the gut feeling telling you this was a terrible terrible idea got. You brought your hands up to your head, eyes wide as he spoke.

“I don’t like how casual you’re bein’ about this. This is unnatural.”

You couldn’t help but agree with Sam’s words, your head falling back and your eyes closing. “Sweet Jesus. Listen, God, I know we don’t talk much these days, but please, please don’t let this not be a hypothetical. I’m fucking begging you.”

A noise to your right made your head snap over. “Oh hell to the fucking no!” You shook your head as Zemo himself walked in, wearing a prison guards uniform. “Uh-uh! No way! Bucky, this was not part of the plan!”

“What did you do?!”

“We need him!”

“You’re going back to prison.”

“If I may-”

All three of you faced him, simultaneously shouting, “no!”

You held your face in your hands as your head dropped, shaking back and forth, your eyes squeezing shut, tuning them out for just a minute to think. Bucky had a point. The enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that, and the Avengers were technically disbanded, which was Zemo’s whole objective in the first place, but…God. You were good at compartmentalizing, but not that much. You were willing to put your feelings aside for the mission so Bucky could talk to him. Not for you to work with him. But he had connections, you knew he did, and he had information…

“Doll?” You looked up, Bucky anxiously licking his lips as he met your gaze. “I need you to say something.”

You looked to Sam, who shrugged, gesturing to Zemo. “What do you think?”

What did you think? What did you think?! You thought that it was the worst idea in the history of ideas and you should turn back and find another way! But…you knew this was the fastest, probably most reliable way to get information that you needed.

Dammit, since when were you the deciding factor?

You sucked in a breath, looking over Sam’s shoulder at Zemo, who lifted his hand in greeting. You raised your eyes to the ceiling, pointing your finger accusingly. “This is why we stopped talking.” Gaze dropping to the still waiting fellas, you gnawed on your lip, before hissing out, “ffffine…” Running a hand through your hair, you threw your hands up as you shrugged. “Fine. Okay. Fine.”

“Okay.” Sam nodded, taking charge again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Except, that was a lie. You could. You’d seen weirder. You’d experienced the impossible. Lived through the unbelievable. This…this was completely imaginable.

Which is why, with a lot of hesitation and very little confidence in this plan, you followed Zemo through the auto shop you were in until you reached a large room with a ton of different old cars.

Bucky’s hand found yours as Zemo explained what the plan was, rather vaguely, in your opinion, but at least he was explaining. Point for him. Not that it would make up for the level of distrust you held for him, but it was something.

You looked up at him, giving him a puzzling frown. He usually only grabbed your hand in front of other people when he was feeling anxious. Which, yeah, he had a right to be anxious right now, but it wasn’t the right kind. The type of anxiety caused by large crowds and loud noises, ones that startled him and threw him into a defensive mode.

But the look on his face made you squeeze his hand in reassurance. He was pouting, staring at you although he did something wrong - a puppy that tore up a pillow - and all you wanted to do was give him a hug.

“You’re mad at me.” He mumbled as the four of you headed out with Zemo in the lead.

“No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are.

“Bucky, I’m not mad.”

“Listen, if I had a better idea I wouldn’t-”

You brought your linked hands up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his gloved knuckles. “I’m not mad.” You repeated more firmly. “It’s just…a lot for me, right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, Buck, I-I just…” You thought about your and Sam’s earlier conversation and suddenly understood what he meant. “I need to breathe for a second.”

His features twisted into ones of uncertainty, eyes squinting as you stepped outside. “Do you…do you wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tugging his arm to stop him and grabbing the sunglasses on his collar, slipping them over his eyes. “No. I just need some time to think. Hopefully the plane ride to wherever the hell we’re going will give me that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, James. I’m sure.”

He lowered the glasses on his nose to scan you over the frames, before nodding and sliding them back up. “Okay. You ready for this, then?”

“No.” You breathed, turning back to where Zemo and Sam were still walking. “Let’s do this.”

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

Climbing onto the private jet, you raised an eyebrow at Sam, who shrugged, giving you a bemused expression. A Baron…huh…who knew? You feel like you should’ve, yet there you were.

You sat besides Bucky, across from Zemo, crossing your legs and leaning back while staring at him through narrowed eyes.

His butler seemed nice, which made you even more suspicious. You obviously didn’t know as much about Zemo as you wanted to. It was a habit you picked up after years of undercover work; once the mission was complete, that was that. There was no looking back on it. No sitting on it. It was over and you moved onto the next one. It was a bad habit in cases like this.

The moment you spotted the notebook over Zemo’s book you knew something was going to happen, yet you still flinched when Bucky lunged at him, grabbing his throat. You leaned back in your seat again, steadying your now racing heartbeat. You decided you were too tense, trying to relax your muscles as Bucky sat back down in his seat.

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book.” Sam seemed so proud of himself that something he recommended was written in Steve’s little book and it made you smile.

You remembered that; Steve and you were supposed to meet up for coffee after his run, but Fury called him in so you rescheduled it for when he got back. He asked you about Marvin Gaye. For your opinion. You told him to check it out and make his own.

You remembered asking him about that little notebook of his, and he just shrugged you off telling you about his list. He would read items off to you, but he never let you read the book yourself. You never found out why, and you supposed you never would now. The thought made an ache behind your ribs that you’d come to familiarize yourself with appear.

You smiled a little more as Zemo and Sam told Bucky how awesome Marvin Gaye was. “C’mon, baby. Back me up.”

Chuckling, you looked at Bucky. “They’re not wrong. But,” you quickly added before Bucky could whine at you, facing Sam again. “Neither is Buck. I mean, c’mon. You can’t find music like the 40’s anymore. Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Benny Goodman, Fred Astaire. Ol’ Blue Eyes himself.”

“Thank you.” Bucky grinned at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay. But, I mean, c’mon! Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye.”

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye.”

Your face fell as Zemo started talking about Steve and icons and Red Skull, your mind once again slipping away from reality.

“Kids love you.” You giggled as you finally made it out of his exhibit. You’d wanted to show it to him since he moved to D.C., and you’d finally got an opportunity after coming back from being undercover for ten weeks. “You’re their hero, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just trying to do what’s right.”

You nudged him, scoffing at his answer. “You’re too humble. You’re a national icon, you know.”

Steve shrugged, looking around the museum at the planes surrounding them. “I never wanted to be.”

“Why not? Everyone loves you.”

“I’m sure not everyone loves me.” He rolled his eyes. “And…I just wanted to help. To fight. Protect my country and the people I cared about. I-I didn’t ask for…all that.” He waved behind his shoulder where his exhibit was getting smaller with each step they took away. “People were dying. Bullies were winning.”

You shook your head, spinning and walking backwards besides him to face him. “Sure, but you did that. And you became someone people could look up to in the process.”

He narrowed his eyes at you before asking, “why do you do what you do?”

“...because I’m good at it?”

“Honey.” He gave you a look. “Answer the question.”

You hummed in thought. “Because I couldn’t stand by, knowing there would be orphaned kids if I didn’t help any way I could.”

“Alright. Why do you do it in the dark?”

“Whaddya mean?”

He shrugged. “Why don’t you come out and take credit for all the lives you’ve saved?”

“Because that’s not why I do it. I don’t want that attention. I just want to know I’ve helped people. I’ve kept them safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I just wanted to beat the bully. I never wanted to be a dancing monkey, too.” You looked at him in a new light then, understanding where he was coming from. “Watch out, honey!” He grabbed you and pulled you aside before you could crash into a wall, arms wrapped firmly around your waist. He gave you that charming smile of his. “Wouldn’t want you hurting that pretty lil’ head of yours, now would we?”

“Y/N!”

You snapped back into the conversation, moving your eyes from the window to Bucky, who tilted his head, eyebrows pinched and eyes narrowed. “Sorry. So, Madripoor. That’s a fun place.”

You ignored the side eyed glances Bucky and Sam exchanged, Sam turning to you curiously. “You’ve been?”

“Once. Back in 2010 for a few months”

Zemo raised his eyebrows. “You’re lucky to have gotten out.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Lucky, maybe. Skills were a part of it, too, though.”

“Good.” Zemo nodded. “Because we’re going undercover…and if we blow it. We’re dead.”

You breathed out, shaking your memory away and getting your head back into the game. Because like the man you were severely wary of in front of you said, if you blew this, you were dead. And, sure, you didn’t want to live until ninety, but you weren’t even half way there yet. So dammit if you were going to die soon.

“Hey.” You looked over at Bucky’s murmur, his head tilting as he grabbed your hand and pulled you from your seat closer to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Are you okay? You know you’re going to have to be-”

“I know.” He nodded. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll be fine. Just…tell me right now if you need to step out for this one.”

You gave him a smile that you knew he didn’t buy, just by the slight narrowing of his eye, his lips pressing together. “No. No, I’m good for this. If you think I’m gonna let you two idiots go into Madripoor with him - alone - oil that cyborg brain of yours, because there’s no way.”

He squeezed your hand, eyes still filled with uncertainty. “Are you sure?”

“If there’s even a slight possibility that I can protect you, then yeah. I’m sure, Buckaroo.”

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gubler-me-up · 3 years ago

Text

Eye of the Beholder

Request: So u and Spence work together and u haven’t gotten together before. One day, the weekend after a tough case, he comes over to hang out only to find you all puffy and a mess. (Like 3 day old unwashed hair). He realizes why, emotions are revealed, and boom! s m u t

A/N: Thanks for the request, @bi-sub-spence! Not going to lie, this took me a minute to write because I wanted to fit every component in that you requested but had to modify some things to make it flow (had to dim the smut down a bit sorry it’s still a smut tho!!) I hope you enjoy it!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Plus!size fem reader

Category: Smut

Content warning: Self-degradation, mention of a fire, mention of death, fingering, clit stimulation

Word count: 3.7k

——————–

You packed up your things to get ready to leave the bureau for the weekend. You felt as if the week had been longer than a normal week. It felt as if you had just lived through three weeks back to back with no breaks. On top of the case you and the team wrapped up, it felt as if the whole world was out of your hands.

A lot had been going through your head the week before the case. Usual feelings of doubting your impact on the world. The doubt of having a purpose. The case solidified your doubts of even being on the team anymore.

“Y/N.”

You froze when you heard Spencer call you. You felt your throat go dry and your eyes widened as you got lost in your mind. Everything seemed to play out right in front of you again.

“Y/N,” Spencer yelled.

He grabbed your arm to yank you away from the flames coming from inside the house. You tried to yank your arm away from his hand but he wasn’t letting you go. You needed to go back in there to save him. It was your fault he ended up trapped in there in the first place. You should’ve been in there with him.

You tried to yank away from his grasp again but he didn’t give you another chance of trying to get away from him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back. You were pretty sure he could feel you shaking to your core as manic tears started running down your face and the sound of despair left your mouth.

“Y/N, stop. We can’t do anything,” he said.

“Y/N,” Spencer called again.

You broke out of your train of thought as you turned your head to look behind you. He stood a few inches away from you and the concern plastered on his face wasn’t hard to miss. It was hard to think he would look that concerned if he didn’t already know what you were in deep thought about.

You grabbed your bag and placed it over your shoulder. You flashed a quick smile to show him you were fine. You didn’t fool either of you. You could see in his eyes he had this unwavering sympathy that you wanted to run away from. You didn’t want any more sympathy. You wanted to lay in your bed and forget about your life.

“Are we still on for this weekend?” He asked.

You raised a questionable eyebrow. “On for?”

“Remember? I was going to go over to your place, so we could watch some movies and order pizza,” he said.

“Oh, yeah, about that. I think we should postpone until next weekend,” you said.

You could see the instant disappointment and further concern all mix on his face. He reached out his hand to grab onto your upper arm. He gently rubbed it to send some reassurance your way. On any other day, you would have been giddy if he even reached out in an attempt to touch you but his touch only reminded you of him holding you back from the fire.

“Y/N, we can talk about what happened. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he said.

You flashed a smile. “Thanks but I just need some sleep. I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

Before he could get another word in, you yanked your arm away from his touch and walked past him. You rushed out of the bullpen before he could try to stop you because you knew he will. It’s not as if you blamed him for holding you back from saving a life. In fact, you blamed yourself a great deal for putting someone’s life in danger through your missteps. Going back in the fire was the least you could do to amend for what you did.

When you unlocked your apartment door, you didn’t feel your usual sense of relief of being home. After a long case away, you would have been giddy to be back in your bed. However, you still felt torn inside. You couldn’t get the fire away from your sight. The smell of smoke still filling your lungs. The last bit of chance saving Michael when you saw him close the door.

You walked in and closed the door behind you. You dropped your bag at the door as it was becoming too heavy. Not because it was packed heavily, you actually packed it quite light. You just couldn’t find the strength to hold anything anymore. You barely even had the strength to stand as you felt your knees shaking.

You could feel your whole body shake the more you walked towards your room. You wanted to crawl into your bed immediately and forget about your week. It would be even better if you could forget about your whole existence as well.

You opened your bedroom door to be greeted by the mess of your room. Clothes on the floor, cups half-filled covered your nightstand, your bed unmade. It would stay like that until you found the energy to sort it out. The way you felt like not moving for an eternity, you guessed it would have to wait that long to get done as well.

You passed by your huge standing mirror in your room. You stopped and looked at yourself. You scanned your body from head to toe and back up. You knew if you weren’t horridly overweight you could have ran faster to grab Michael in time.

You pinched the skin on your side. You kept pinching it harder and harder and harder until it became numb pain. You watched yourself in the mirror. You looked like an absolute wreck.

You stopped pinching your side and moved your hand’s attention to your face. You caressed over the scars of imperfections past covering your face. You tilted your face up to reveal even more of them covering your neck and chest.

You were disgusted by yourself. Of course Michael wouldn’t trust you. You looked like his enemy. You would run into a ticking time bomb as well.

You could hear your phone ringing from within your bag. You couldn’t find the strength to move away from the mirror to answer it. It felt as if your brain couldn’t think of anyone wanting to contact you after figuring out who you truly were: a monster. You let it ring.

And let it ring and ring again. You just let it ring as you stared at yourself until your eyes felt as if they were going black with only the imagery of flames being the constant flash of light in the darkness. You could feel the smoke in your lungs. You wanted to scream out for Michael but you couldn’t make a peep. You just stood there, useless.

Your phone was still ringing but there was a faint knocking coming from afar. You groaned as you opened your eyes. You didn’t even remember getting into bed but you were glad you were laying down. You couldn’t even fathom getting up. The noise around you, however, was making it difficult for you to fall back asleep.

You couldn’t think of what all the noise was for. You were starting to think it was all in your head. You couldn’t think of one person who would be calling you nonstop, let alone someone visiting you. You closed your eyes to try to shut out the noise and to go back to forgetting about your existence.

“Y/N.”

Your eyes shot open when you heard the faint sound of your voice being called. The voice sounded familiar but you decided to not decipher it. If you ignored them for long enough, they would probably go away. However, they kept calling and calling and calling your name. Your phone was also still ringing and if you could guess, whoever was calling your phone was also calling your name.

“Y/N.”

You slowly got up from your bed to go towards your front door. You had a feeling the voice behind the door was the only person you knew who would come to check on you.

You stood at your door and peeped through the peephole to see Spencer standing there, knocking and calling out your name. You couldn’t see his expression clearly but from the sound of his voice you could tell just how much concern he had for your wellbeing.

You would open the door to show him you were fine but he would see right through it. Your hair hadn’t been washed in a while, you were still in your work clothes and who knows what your face looked like with all the smudged makeup you had failed to take off. You would look like the monster you knew you were all along.

“Y/N, if you can hear me, can you please let me know you’re okay? I’ve tried to call you all weekend but you haven’t been answering. I just need to know you’re okay,” he said.

You sighed as you unlocked your front door but made sure the chain was still intact. You didn’t want him to see the whole of you. Just enough so he knew you were breathing.

As you opened the door, you saw his face immediately relax in relief as he saw half your face peeking at him. He looked at his phone and immediately hung up whoever he was calling. When he did, your phone stopped ringing as well, as you had expected.

“I’m okay,” you said.

“You haven’t responded to anyone’s calls or texts for almost three days. I-well, we were all worried,” he said.

“I’ve just been taking some time for myself. Nothing to worry about,” you said.

“If that’s the case, may I come in? I brought some movies and popcorn, so we can hang out and hopefully make you feel better about our last case,” he said.

As soon as he said that, you could feel your mouth go dry. The cloud of smoke came over your vision and the heaviness filled your lungs. It was almost too hard to stand. You could only shake your head as you tried to close the door. He stopped you by shoving his foot in-between the door, so you couldn’t lock him out.

You looked at his foot blocking your escape. You wanted to slam the door in his face and run back into your bed. You didn’t even know why you got out in the first place. Now he wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

“Y/N, can you please let me in?” He begged.

“Spence, I think it’s best I don’t,” you said.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

“Because…” you started as tears flowed down your face.

There was a moment of silence between you two as he waited for you to continue. You were having trouble piecing together why you didn’t want to let him in. You were a mess, you were worthless, you were hideous. You couldn’t let him come any closer to you.

Then you felt his hand cup your face as his thumb gently wiped away a tear. You didn’t want to look up at him to see any more of you. Not the tears, not the scars, not the smudged makeup. You didn’t want him to see you for who you really were.

“I’m not going to let someone I love suffer in silence like this,” he said.

You immediately looked up as soon as he said the word ‘love.’ You had to look at him to see if you had imagined those words leaving his mouth. As soon as your eyes met his, you knew he meant what he had said. His eyes were filled with concern and care you hadn’t seen anyone have for you in years.

You sighed as you unhooked the chain on your door to fully open it. He removed his hand from your face as he shuffled his way inside of your apartment. He didn’t take your eyes off of you the whole time as you closed the door. It made you self-conscious. He could see how awful you looked. The raw you. How you felt on the inside.

He looked at you with no distaste though. He gave you a gracious smile, almost sympathetic. You wanted to hide away from his gaze. Even though he was smiling at you, you felt as if he was judging every part of you.

He probably wondered why you were still in your work clothes from Friday or why your makeup was still on. Your hair was tangled and unwashed. You wondered if he could tell. You started to sweat from being nervous of him possibly thinking you smell since you hadn’t showered in almost three full days.

“It’s okay to ask for help sometimes,” he said as he dropped his bag.

“What?” You asked.

“Have you had a relaxing bath in a while? That's what I do when I’m feeling down,” he said.

“You said you couldn’t let someone you love suffer. I’m just happy you stopped by to say that. You don’t have to do anything else,” you insisted.

He shook his head. “I want to. I feel terrible for not going home with you on Friday to make sure you were okay. The look you had on Friday left me feeling…guilty.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Guilty?”

“I should have tried better to let you know that nothing was your fault about the case. I know how hard you take things and it hurts knowing you get down on yourself. I just want to hold you close to let you know everything’s okay,” he admitted.

You let out a long sigh after digesting everything he said. It didn’t fully erase the pain or depression you were feeling towards yourself or the case but you loved the fact he was trying. You could hear how genuine he was about wanting to be there for you.

You formed a small smile. “This job is haunting. It doesn’t help that tough cases weigh heavy on me and I start questioning myself even more than I already do.”

“You shouldn’t do that. You’re a great profiler, a great person, and most importantly, you’re you. You should love everything about you as much as I do,” he said.

You paused before you said anything again. That was the second time he had said he loved you. At first you didn’t think much of it but now you were considering he was trying to tell you something. You stared at him intently to see if he looked as if he loved you. If you were as great of a profiler as he said, you could tell.

“How much do you love me?” You asked, softly.

“I love you enough to start a hot bath for you and we’ll go from there,” he suggested with a shrug.

“I’d like that a lot,” you sniffled.

Spencer had his back towards you as you took off your clothes to hop in the hot bubble bath he had prepared for you. Even having him so close to you made you nervous. What if he could somehow see your rolls or stretch marks on your thighs? Would he take back everything he said before if he saw how low your breasts sagged without a bra?

You could feel the cloud come back over you as you hopped into the tub. Even though his words made you feel alive inside, you couldn’t shake the awful thoughts about yourself fully. It was not knowing how he’d react to you once he saw your naked body. If he saw your naked body.

You looked at him to see his back still turned as he leaned against the doorframe. You splashed some water on your face to remove your makeup residue, so you were completely you. You could feel your hands shake.

“Are you in the tub?” He asked.

“Yup,” you said.

“Would you like anything? I can get you something to drink or even a snack,” he said.

“No thank you,” you said.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to relax. I’ll just be out in your living room,” he said.

“Wait,” you said.

You paused before you continued. You didn’t know if you wanted to say what you wanted to anymore. You sighed as you were about to tell him ‘nevermind.’

“Can you stay here with me? Like, sit next to me,” you asked.

He slowly turned around to look at you. Your heart stopped as he examined you with wide, curious eyes. He smiled as he walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet right next to the bathtub as you requested. He was blushing as he tried not to peek at the body parts not covered by the millions of bubbles.

You tried to cover yourself up with as many bubbles as possible. You couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking. He probably saw you for your real size and real scars and hated it. He was just too polite to say anything about it. You started to think it was a horrible idea inviting him to be with you while you bathed three days of filth away.

“You really love bubbles,” he commented.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

He looked at you concerned. “Is there something wrong? Is the water too hot? Do I make you uncomfortable? If I’m staring a lot, I don’t mean to it’s just that-”

“You think I’m hideous,” you said.

He violently shook his head as he looked repulsed by you even uttering those words. He gently grabbed your hand from the depths of the hot water to hold it in his. He squeezed it tight and held it close to him as he gave you that same genuine look from when you opened the door.

“Y/N, I know learning to love yourself takes time but I want you to know that I love everything about you. You’re the most gorgeous woman to me, inside and out. I’ll be here every step of the way to help you realize that,” he said.

You could feel the tears flow down his face as you listened to him. Some of the words he said were finally sticking to your brain as you started to accept his feelings. It meant the world to you he was there for you with such love and generosity in his heart.

“I love you, Spence,” you said.

He smiled. “I love you too. Is there anything else you need me to do for you?”

He used his free hand to wipe your tears as you thought about what you really wanted his hands to do. You wanted him to feel the real you. If he loved you for you, would he be willing to touch you in more ways than just your hands?

“It’s a weird request and don’t feel obligated to,” you said.

“I’d do anything for you. All you gotta do is ask,” he said.

“Can you make me feel…feel…” you said as you tried to put it into words.

He used his free hand to caress your neck up and down. You smiled at his gentle touch as he understood your drift without you needing to explain yourself further.

“Would you like me to go lower?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yes, please.”

He smiled as his face turned visibly red. He caressed his hand down your neck to your chest. You watched as his eyes focused on your breasts as he gently cupped one in your hand and gently massaged your nipple. You softly moaned.

“Am I doing good?” He asked.

“Very,” you moaned.

He smiled. “Would you like me to go lower?”

You nodded and he didn’t hesitate to obey. You watched as his hands caressed down your stomach. You held your breath as nerves took you over as he touched your stomach. You were sure he’d say something about your rolls but he seemed laser-focused on pleasuring you. Good thing his sleeves were already rolled up.

His hand reached your clit and you moaned as you felt him carefully rubbing it. You clenched your hand tighter in his as you tried to steady your breathing. You couldn’t imagine the last time you felt so excited inside. It was as if something inside of you was coming alive.

“Do you want me to go faster?” He asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

He did just as you wanted. He circled your clit over and over again until you were practically moaning his name unprovoked. He yanked your hand towards him to move you closer to him. He embraced you in a kiss as soon as he snuck two fingers into you.

You aggressively moaned in his mouth as his fingers curled in you. He gently rubbed your g-spot as his thumb still worked vigorously on your clit. You could barely keep your composure as he made you feel things you couldn’t put into sensible words.

“Oh my God, Spence,” you moaned.

He kissed you again. “I just want you to feel good. Always.”

You grabbed onto his shirt to pull him close to you. He immediately went back to kissing you, not getting enough of you. He let go of your hand to grab the back of your neck to keep you in place. He engulfed every moan you let out as his fingers worked you.

They worked you so much, your legs were shaking in the water. You could make waves from how much they were trembling. This tingling came over your body and your breathing became unstable to the point you thought you weren’t even in the moment anymore. You were somewhere else completely experiencing heaven.

You broke away from his mouth as you let out a breathless moan. You felt the electrifying feeling of an orgasm go through your body. You hadn’t felt something so intense in years. Once it passed, you looked Spencer in his eyes. He stared at you with a joyous smile on his face as he pulled his fingers out of you.

“You look at peace,” he said.

“Because I kind of am. You’ve made me feel things I haven’t felt in awhile,” you said.

“I’m glad I could make you feel that way. I hope this is a start in making you feel happier and happier today,” he said.

“I think we’re off to a good start to making that happen. Maybe the next steps would be some needed help with cleaning my room," you said.

He smiled and nodded. “Anything for you.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @spencerreidsthings @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @slutforsr @bxtchboy69 @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @agentadhd @fanofalltheficsx @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @dinsprettygirl @multixfandomwriter @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @muffin-cup @jessalyn-jpeg @princesssmooshie @solitarypeachh @spensual @gubler-me-swallow-me @reidsbookclub @isabellasimps @doctorspenceryeet

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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skzsauce01 · 3 years ago

Text

Angel Sent From Up Above

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: Hyunjin, a new guardian angel, has fallen in love with a human. His human’s girlfriend, to be precise. Angel AU, background college AU and skater AU.

Warning: violence

Word Count: 8.3k

Pairing: fem!reader x guardian angel!Hyunjin; fem!reader x human!Jeongin

“Is she healed now?” Hyunjin asks the moment Jisung flies in. He knows Jisung is probably exhausted from keeping maladies away from you, but he needs the answer now. “Is her flu gone?”

“Yeah.” Jisung’s wings are tinged gray with ruin, but he keeps them on display for all the other guardian angels to see as he walks past them. They are proof that he has been doing his duty. They’ll return to white soon enough anyway. “Your human’s her boyfriend. Why didn’t you try to check through him? He visited a few times even though she told him not to.” Jisung sighs and shakes his head. “What an idiot. He’s going to get sick himself.”

“He hasn't visited recently, so I haven’t been able to check through him. The Archangel’s forbade me going to Earth unless it was something serious. I think he’s worried I'm spending too much time with humans.”

Jisung shakes his head. “I think he’s worried that he’s going to have to Seungmin you.”

“I'm not going to get expelled.”

Jisung shrugs, and ruin falls from his wings like ash. “You better watch out. You checked up on her too much last time she got sick, so he's probably trying to make sure you won't abandon your human. He's banished people for less. Case in point: Seungmin.”

“She's important to Jeongin, so she's important to me."

Jisung sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re more protective of her than I am.”

He says it as a joke, but Hyunjin knows it’s the truth. He cares deeply about you, maybe even more than his own human, but he will never say that last part aloud.

Hyunjin used to believe that becoming a guardian angel was the best thing that ever happened to him. All of his afterlife, he had wanted to be promoted, to be granted the pure white wings and the crown of sun rays. Regular angels had wings and halos but never white wings and golden halos; silver and silver was the “regular” combination.

Watching over a human was considered the highest honor an angel could receive, and everyone clamored to gain the attention of the Archangel. Hyunjin was not immune. He worked as a messenger for years, delivering even the most inane notes between the higher ups. He endured the attacks, verbal and sometimes physical, and kept his mouth shut. Eventually, the Archangel recognized his efforts, and before dawn broke on Earth, Hyunjin was named the new guardian angel of a baby boy, Yang Jeongin.

“You will protect him. You will guide him,” the Archangel said. “He is your responsibility now and yours alone. Do you understand?”

From Heaven, Hyunjin could only look at the wet, wrinkled face of his human. His human. “I understand.”

Then the Archangel flew off, and Hyunjin flew to Earth for the first time to meet the baby. No one noticed him as he phased through the hospital walls nor as his giant wings folded back. Only Jeongin would be able to see his guardian angel.

“Hello there, little one,” he whispered to the swaddled baby. The boy was fast asleep, and Hyunjin gently stroked his face. “I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Hyunjin, your official guardian angel. I’ll always be nearby now, and I’ll always make sure you’re safe. Sometimes you won’t be able to see me, but I’ll always be watching over you. I promise.”

Jeongin stirred awake and stared back at Hyunjin. Two sets of eyes blinked at each other, one full of curiosity and one full of tenderness.

“Go back to sleep,” Hyunjin said. He drew his hand over the baby’s face, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered shut. “Sweet dreams, little one.”

Guardian angels talked about their humans like parents, bragging about how gifted they were and sharing complaints about what unbelievable thing they did the other day. Hyunjin mostly did the latter. Jeongin was an adventurous child, which was just a nice way of saying that he liked to play with danger. Hyunjin often had to fly in to save him or to redirect the threat somewhere else. The other angels joked that Hyunjin stayed on Earth more than Heaven sometimes. He didn’t mind though. Even with his human’s shortcomings, Hyunjin adored him. He watched from above as Jeongin said his first words, attended his first day of kindergarten, and got into his first fight.

“He’s a troublemaker,” Minho observed.

Minho was a guardian angel as well, but he tended to lurk on the outer edges of the realm as the other angels avoided him for a reason Hyunjin hadn’t figured out yet. Hyunjin liked him well enough and treated him like a mentor, sometimes a friend.

“Hey, you’re not one to talk. Your human started a black market of candy at school.”

Minho shrugged. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

Jeongin didn’t end up growing up into a troublemaker, to Hyunjin’s relief. The impulsive streak was still there, but he utilized his judgement more now. There were no car crashes or cases of alcohol poisoning, and when Jeongin asked out girls, it was with daisy bouquets and a suggestion to get lunch. Hyunjin slowly stopped making routine trips to Earth and chose to view Jeongin from the comfort of Heaven. It was there that Hyunjin noticed you.

“I think she’s upset with him,” Jisung abruptly says. “She cried after a video call with him, so if your human starts acting strangely, that’s why.”

The news makes Hyunjin stop mid-step, and he turns to his friend. “She cried? What? What did she cry about?”

“I don’t know. I was too busy trying to lower her temperature. Can you believe that she almost hit—”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I just got back! There is no ‘earlier!’ Besides, we aren't allowed to interfere in anything that isn't dangerous. Heartbreak, if this is even what this is, is temporary."

“Humans do drastic things for love.” The movies has seen while watching Jeongin have told him that much.

“Which we will attend to when it happens. You’re a new guardian; you’ll understand them better over time. Not everything is life-threatening, fragile as they are.”

Hyunjin turns away from Jisung and glances down at Earth. The clouds part, and all of the brick buildings of the university rush towards his eyes as he focuses on Jeongin. He’s asleep at his desk, his lamp still burning bright above him. How long has it been since the video call? Or perhaps he’s just tired from the events of his day. But he looks so small and vulnerable in his chair. Jeongin isn’t fragile — the amount of situations he has gotten out of covered in bruises and blood is astronomical — but he is mortal.

“But she loves him,” Hyunjin softly says, “and he loves her.”

“Exactly. Humans fight over small things all the time, and this is one of those times.” Jisung places a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder to placate him. “Trust me.”

“... I trust you.”

“Good. I need to rest, but we can catch up and see what stupid things they do after.”

The moment Jisung flies off to the rest area, Hyunjin goes against the Archangel’s orders and flies to your apartment. When he peers inside your bedroom window, he spots you sitting in bed in the dark, your phone screen illuminating your face. He phases inside and sits at your desk chair, resting his forearms at the top rail. You can’t see him, but he wishes that you could.

You mindlessly scroll through messages, sniffling every few seconds. Whether it’s from your crying or your illness, he doesn’t know. He can’t hand you a tissue or tell you comforting things or hug you like Jeongin can. When you wrap your blanket tighter around your shoulders, he wraps his wings around himself as well.

Suddenly you throw your phone beside you and let out a heavy sigh. “It can’t get any worse than this,” you say to yourself.

Hyunjin waits for you to say more, but you only stare at the ceiling with blank eyes. He can’t compel you to talk; only Jisung can, but he’s not here. So instead, Hyunjin knocks over the glass of water on your bed when you shift into a more comfortable position.

“Of course it can,” you sigh again and blot as much water as you can with your tissues. You pull another one out of the box with more force than necessary and furiously dab your sheets. “First I get sick, then I miss a homework deadline that I can’t make up because my professor lost his heart thirty years ago along with his hair, then my boyfriend breaks up with me for like no reason, apparently I have an exam tomorrow, and now I’ve spilled water all over my bed, so I can’t even sleep. Thank you, universe. I really needed this.”

He immediately regrets his decision.

“Worst freaking week of my life,” you mumble as you throw away the wet tissues. Hyunjin almost reaches out for your arm when you pass by, but he retracts it just in time.

When you climb back into bed, you draw your blanket up to your chin and begin murmuring numbers. They come out calm and even at first, but they become more tense as time passes. Hyunjin half-listens as he scans the contents of your desk. A laptop, a shopping bag, an open notebook with doodles on the margins, an uncapped black pen, and a pack of gum. He presses his forefinger to the point of the pen, drawing a tiny heart by touch. Then he stamps the heart among all your misshapen stars and imaginary flowers. You might just think it’s an ink smear, but he hopes you look at it and smile.

You hit three hundred and forty-seven before you begin to sound drowsy. Hyunjin stands at the foot of your bed, watching as you finally drift off in the middle of three hundred and ninety-three. Serenity settles across your features.

“I’m sorry for what I did earlier. Good night and sweet dreams,” he whispers. He pats the corner of your bed before flying off into the night.

He needs to see Jeongin.

It was hard not to notice you when you were on a collision course with Jeongin. You were going too fast, and Hyunjin’s wings couldn’t carry him to Earth in milliseconds. With horror, he watched as you sharply turned the building corner on your skateboard and just barely jumped off in time when you saw Jeongin about to make the same turn.

“You okay?” Jeongin asked as he hurried to stop your runaway board.

“I should be asking you that!” you exclaimed as you followed him. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have veered that close to the wall. You’re not hurt or anything, right?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Good. I can’t risk getting sued again.” Unsure of how to respond, Jeongin nudged back your board to you. You neatly stopped it mid-roll with your foot. “Thanks, by the way. See you around.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You kicked off, but before you left the area, you turned around and gave him a wave. Jeongin waved back, albeit more shyly than you. After a moment’s hesitation, he yelled out, “Be careful!”

“I’ll try!”

Jeongin laughed and turned the corner, looking at the brick wall with more wistfulness than most people usually did. Before he entered the building, he peeked around the next corner, as if he expected you to come speeding by again. You didn’t.

After that, he noticed you more often, usually swerving around strangers as you cut through campus. Whenever he had the opportunity to say hello, he did so with a smile, and you returned it with a waggle of your fingers before disappearing into the crowd. Once, you nearly crashed into a railing. You laughed it off and gave him another wave along with a funny face. Hyunjin felt something inside him melt. Jeongin must have too since he headed to his next class with the most lovestruck expression Hyunjin had ever seen on him.

It was then that Jeongin began forming a plan.

Two weeks after the first meeting, Jeongin waited in the quad for you to show up. Just as he hoped, you came walking down the steps fifteen minutes later, skateboard tucked underneath your arm. It was supposed to seem like a coincidence, but Hyunjin had followed Jeongin as he scoured nearby skate spots, asking around about you. Yesterday, he had learned where you liked to practice tricks. He got up from his bench, hands hidden behind his back, and approached you with the same moves and confidence he had rehearsed in the bathroom mirror.

“Hey! How have you been?” he called up from the very bottom.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin groaned. Jisung, who Hyunjin had tracked down two days prior to this, also did so.

“You said he was a charmer,” Jisung complained. “Look at him. He can’t even charm dogs with a treat.”

“For your sake, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Just wait though. It’s going to get better.”

Jisung huffed. “It better. She deserves the best.”

Fortunately, you took it all in stride and waved hello at Jeongin. When you were finally beside him, you answered, “I’ve been good, thanks. You’re not here to sue me, right?”

“No! I was actually wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. If you have time, that is.”

“Really? But I almost killed you that one time. I mean, I’d be happy to, but it’s kind of weird after what happened.”

“I’d rather skateboard than walk, and you seem pretty good at it.”

You shifted your weight to one foot, and Hyunjin chuckled when he saw Jeongin’s eyes wander to your jutted-out hip. Jisung made a noise of disapproval.

“Okay, what is this really about?”

“Skateboarding,” Jeongin said. Then he took a step closer and held out a bundle of daisies towards you. “And lunch, if you want.”

You broke out into a grin. “I am a little hungry right now. L/N Y/N, skateboarding extraordinaire and ramen enthusiast, at your service.”

“Yang Jeongin, also a ramen enthusiast. Nice to officially meet you.”

Jeongin is still sleeping at his desk when Hyunjin arrives. He shifts and exhales when the wind from Hyunjin’s wings create a small breeze but does not wake.

“How could you break up with her?” Hyunjin says. “She’s amazing and wonderful, and you decide that you don't want to be with her? Sometimes I wonder what’s going on in your head.”

Silence.

“If I were human, I would have never done that, but…”

Jeongin shifts again, burying himself deeper into the crumpled hoodie he’s using as a pillow. The table squeaks, and a mechanical pencil rolls off the desk. Hyunjin quietly places the pencil back to its initial place and shuts off the lamp.

“Take care of yourself, and make good choices, okay? I can’t do that for you.”

Instead of flying back to Heaven, he perches on the roof of the building across from Jeongin’s. Jeongin finally wakes up and notices that his light is off. He glances at it confusedly for a few seconds, wondering if he misremembered leaving it on. In the end, he decides it’s not worth the effort and falls into his bed. He didn’t even spare you a thought, a crime in Hyunjin’s eyes.

Then he realizes he may have a bigger problem on his hands.

Jisung.

Jisung is going to be very upset when he finds out about this.

Over the weekend, you brought Jeongin to the quad to learn the basics.

“Put both feet on the board now,” you said as you walked alongside a skateboarding Jeongin. He was borrowing yours to practice, so he treated it with more reverence than a well-used board would need. Even though he was pushing with his back foot, he was going at a snail’s pace.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m going to lose my balance and fall.”

Perhaps it wasn’t reverence after all.

You shook your head. “No, you won’t. You’re not going that fast anyway. You can just step off if you really feel like you are. Give it a shot.”

To his credit, Jeongin lifted his foot a few centimeters off the ground before planting it back. “I’m going to lose control.”

While you did your best to persuade Jeongin to give it another try, Jisung gave Hyunjin a dissatisfied look. “I remember you telling me he was a daredevil. What is happening?”

He didn’t exactly know either. “He’s in front of his crush; give him a break.”

“These two better not end up dating. She deserves so much better than him.”

Hyunjin gave him a dirty look, Jisung gave him a “What? It’s true” type of a shrug.

You step in front of the board. “How about this?” you said. “You stand on the board with both feet, and I’ll pull you along so you can get used to the feeling and be less of a scaredy cat.”

“Okay.”

You took both of his hands and slowly guided him backwards. At the same time, you instructed him to put more weight on one side to change directions. Jeongin was surprisingly stable, and Hyunjin watched proudly as his human suggested that you increase your speed a little.

“See? It’s not bad?” you said. “Keeping balance isn’t that hard, right?”

“Yeah. Also,” he grinned, his meek demeanor completely gone, “we’re holding hands now.”

Your eyes widened as you glanced down at your joined hands, and you let out a delighted gasp. “You sneaky little—” Much to Jeongin’s alarm, you let go and smirked. “If you go past the bench without constantly pushing, I’ll let you hold my hand when you walk me home.”

“Kind of presumptuous of you to assume that I would offer to walk you home,” he teased, resting one foot on the floor. “Or is that what you want me to do?”

“You asked me to lunch with flowers. You were going to.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Then he kicked off, skating past the bench with ease. Still going, he looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Do you want to grab doughnuts before you head home?”

“Watch the lamp!” you yelled as you ran towards him. “Jeongin, stop looking at me and turn around!”

The collision with the lamppost was unavoidable, so Hyunjin simply watched as Jeongin took a flying leap off your board and took a tumble on the concrete. While you fumbled for band aids — Jeongin’s knee was scraped and bloody — Jeongin patted his pockets to check that his phone had not fallen out.

“So doughnuts?” he sheepishly asked.

“Sure. I’ll buy.” You finally found one hidden in the bottom of your backpack along with an alcohol wipe. “Guess you get to hold my hand after all.”

“How are you so prepared?” he asked, nodding to the contents you had unceremoniously dumped out whilst rummaging. “You have tweezers and gauze?”

“My mom made me carry a first-aid kit with me when she found out that I skate to class. It comes in handy.” You ripped open the package. “This might hurt.”

“You can kiss it to feel better.”

You laughed and pressed the alcohol wipe to his knee. “You’re such a flirt, I love it. Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, hurts a lot.”

You opted to kiss the band aid instead, causing Jeongin to pout and Jisung to sigh in relief. When you stuck it onto his skin, Jeongin made a big production of being relieved from pain, which made you laugh and shove him.

“No! She’s in love with him,” Jisung groaned. His wings drooped, and Hyunjin swore his halo actually dimmed when you kept your hands in Jeongin’s after you pulled him up. “Well, Hyunjin, looks like you and I are going to be best friends.”

Hyunjin personally saw no issue with that. Like Jeongin, he had been charmed by your antics and your easygoing nature. Protecting his human’s friends, family, or lovers wasn’t part of Hyunjin’s duty, but he felt compelled to watch over you too.

Because if he were human, he would have fallen in love with you too.

In the midst of his lamenting, Jisung flies down and sits beside him on the roof. His wings are still slightly gray, and Hyunjin strangely begins to feel self-conscious of his pure white ones.

“Didn’t the Archangel forbid you from doing frivolous things?” Jisung says in lieu of a greeting. “I saw you at her apartment earlier.”

“I just wanted to check up on her. Not that I thought you lied,” he hastily adds. “I wanted to see for myself. She’s a little… distraught.”

“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. It’s normal.” When Hyunjin doesn’t reply or even make a sound, he grows concerned. “Is it something else? She’s getting sued, isn’t she? I knew it was going to happen someday. When I find that smug richie-rich, I’m going to—”

“Jeongin broke up with her.”

“What.”

Hyunjin repeats his sentence, trying to block the view of Jeongin’s bedroom with his body. Jisung looks like he’s ready to rain judgement onto him, and while Hyunjin is rather good at his job, he’s not sure if he can hold back an enraged guardian angel. Jisung takes several deep breaths before regaining the little composure he can muster.

“I knew I hated him for a reason. I knew he didn’t deserve her,” he spits out, though the venom in his voice wavers. “Why would he even break up with her? She loved him so much.”

Hyunjin shrugs. “That’s what I want to find out.”

“When you find out, let me know. I’m going to see her now.”

Hyunjin stays on the roof until sunrise. Jeongin sleeps without any trouble, and when he wakes up, he looks fresh-faced, no guilt hanging over his head. Hyunjin feels something inside him cracking apart.

You truly don’t deserve this.

“Do you think they’re going to crash and burn?” Jisung asked as he studied you and Jeongin walking through the park, practically glued to each other’s sides. “I think they’re moving too fast. It’s only been a month.”

Hyunjin really didn’t care about that. As long as you and Jeongin were happy, he was happy. “A month is a pretty long time for them. Mortal lives are short.”

“Exactly. They should be more selective about their life choices.”

Hyunjin only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. You were pointing at the tiny carousel in the middle and tugging at Jeongin’s sleeve. You dragged him over and pushed a coin into the slot for the ride. The lights lit up and a carnival theme played while you struggled to wedge yourself between the saddle of an elephant and the roof of the carousel. Jeongin sat on the edge, beside the tiger, and chuckled at your flailing limbs.

Hyunjin suppressed his own laugh. You were something special. Just last week, the two of you had made it official and started dating. You had done it in the sweetest possible way.

You had taken him to a local skateboarding shop to help him pick out his first board. Once he had chosen one — the ‘one’ being a light blue deck patterned with multicolored doughnuts — the staff at the shop sent him to the back to try it out. Meanwhile, you made the age-old excuse of needing to use the restroom when you were actually getting the flowers you had hidden in the back.

Hyunjin had turned into a pile of fluff when you gave Jeongin the daisy bouquet and asked if he wanted to officially be your boyfriend. You were so earnest. Jeongin playfully pretended to think it over, a feat Hyunjin knew he wouldn’t have been able to do if he were in his position. There were no fireworks or confetti when Jeongin finally said yes, but the staff did clap and cheer. Jisung looked on with contempt. Hyunjin looked on with envy.

“You know,” Jisung abruptly said, snapping Hyunjin back to the present, “when her last boyfriend broke up with her, she had ice cream for dinner for a week.”

“Oh.”

“You see why I’m being wary of him now?”

Hyunjin did, but Jeongin was different. His previous relationships always ended well, and on one occasion, he remained friends with his ex. He sighed and decided that a change of topic was necessary so he wouldn’t have to potentially endure a tirade. “Did you hear about Minho’s human? The bank he worked at got robbed, and he got held at gunpoint.”

That caught the overprotective Jisung’s ear. “What? Is he okay?”

During Hyunjin’s recountment of Minho’s recountment, the carousel ride ended. You squeezed out of your spot, hitting your head on the roof, and Jeongin pulled you in for a forehead kiss. The world grew brighter when you smiled, he realized.

Hyunjin shadows Jeongin around all day, hoping to learn the reason for the breakup. Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t say anything. He does show some regret though, as he scrolls through past messages and old pictures. When he heads to classes, he opts to walk instead of skateboarding like usual and avoids the quad whenever possible.

In the evening, while Jeongin is chewing on his salad like a cow to cud, Hyunjin pays you a visit. He finds in the freezer section of the grocery store with three pints of ice cream in your basket. From the looks of it, you’re about to add another three to your haul. Peanut butter pretzel sounds equal parts delicious and confusing.

Hyunjin studies your expression, frowning at the same time you do. Your eyes are ringed with red, your jaw tight, and your eyebrows seem permanently furrowed. When he follows you back home, he half expects you to start crying on the way, but you hold fast and manage to open a pint of the salted caramel flavor before the tears finally come. There’s no wailing, just sniffling and the sound of you furiously wiping at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie. In the midst of it all, you find the strength to reorganize the freezer to make space for the other pints. Something about that makes Hyunjin’s heart drop.

By the time your roommate discovers you in the kitchen, the entire refrigerator has been reorganized and the ice cream finished. You sit in a dark room, your finger hovering above the ‘SEND’ button of a message to Jeongin. Hyunjin can see it if he flies above you: “Can you please just tell me why? You keep saying you did something wrong, but I don’t even know what it is. Please let me decide if it’s worth breaking up over.”

“Rough day?” she gently asks as she flips on the switch.

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I just wanna process it right now,” you hollowly say. You grab your skateboard — the same black, paint-splattered one you had last year — and unlock the front door. “I’m going out for a ride, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Stay safe.”

After you leave, Jisung phases through the kitchen walls and hisses at Hyunjin, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Jeongin?”

He nearly forgot about him. Eating dinner isn’t a dangerous task anyway though. Besides, if Jeongin does get physically harmed somehow, Hyunjin will feel an echo of the pain. Hyunjin glances at the door, and Jisung shakes his head.

“I’ll take care of her. Go back to Jeongin, and make sure he’s okay. You can’t keep leaving him all the time.”

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Good.”

Hyunjin reluctantly goes back to Jeongin, who is still eating his salad. His resolve from last night is clearly gone as evidenced by his melancholy expression as he scrolls through even more photos. The one of you in mid-air makes him clutch his phone.

“Let me get one of you when you’re really high up,” Jeongin suggested. He was comfortable gliding around on a skateboard now, but nowhere comfortable enough to try any tricks. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop you from trying to get him to learn. The “pop shove it” was your favorite, solely for the amount of height you could get.

“Okay.”

As you did over and over again for your enthusiastic boyfriend who was unfortunately not that great of a photographer, Hyunjin observed from a rooftop behind Jeongin. Sometimes you looked like you were flying. He could imagine wings protruding from your back, and if the sun hit you just right, there appeared to be a halo as well.

“I got one!” Jeongin exclaimed as he held up his device to you. “Look.”

Hyunjin couldn’t see for himself, but your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ once you took a first glance. A flustered smile made its way onto your face, and everything about you turned soft.

“This looks amazing,” you said. You sidled up to him and rested your cheek against his shoulder, turning your head towards him. “I love you.”

The words hung in the air for a few seconds as both Hyunjin and Jeongin tried to process them. This was the first time you had ever said them, and it came seemingly out of nowhere. Hyunjin recovered first.

“Say ‘I love you’ back, you moron,” Hyunjin whispered, like Jeongin would be able to hear him from this distance. “‘I love you too.’”

“I wanted to say it first,” Jeongin finally said. “Ugh, I had it all planned out too. We were supposed to get doughnuts after this, and I was going to buy you one of those heart-shaped ones.”

You kissed him on the cheek and intertwined your fingers with his. “We can still do that.”

At the doughnut shop, he said the words second, and you kissed him again, leaving a crystal of glaze on the corner of his mouth. Hyunjin licked his lips as if you had left it on him instead.

“Did you find out?” Jisung asks when Hyunjin leaves Jeongin to check up on you. You’re skating around the city, making sharp swerves and weaving in-between lampposts. Jisung is trailing behind you in the sky, but he slows when he sees Hyunjin approaching.

“No, but—”

“Then go back to him. Hyunjin,” Jisung sighs, “I know you care about her, but she’s not your human. Jeongin’s your responsibility.”

“I know but—”

“Go back. And I’m telling you this not as your friend but as your senior. You’re a guardian angel, and you need to take your responsibilities seriously. I’ll get the Archangel involved if I have to. Do you want to get Seungminned?”

The threat of the Archangel strangely doesn’t scare him anymore, however. In fact, the Archangel being involved may solve many of his current issues.

“I’ll find you again when I find out,” Hyunjin slowly says.

Jisung nods in approval before racing after you again. Hyunjin heads to Heaven, not to keep an eye over his human but to become human.

Ten months into Jeongin’s relationship with you, Hyunjin asked Minho, “Is it possible to give up your divinity?”

Minho gave Hyunjin a curious look. “Is being a guardian angel that taxing for you? You haven’t even experienced a full lifespan yet. I know, twenty year-olds are annoying, but it’s not nearly as bad as forty year-olds and their mid-life crisis.”

“I’m just curious. Or, as a last resort,” he added, hoping that Minho would stop being suspicious if he joked about it. “My human’s been making some dumb choices.”

A lie, but Minho fell for it.

“I told you he was going to be a troublemaker!” he cackled. He sympathetically patted Hyunjin’s back. “If I’m being honest, I thought about it a few times. I always get assigned to the troublemakers. Probably because the higher-ups hate me for not tolerating their BS. They’re always playing favorites. Anyway, the easiest way is to get expelled by the Archangel. It’s happened a few times before.”

“Can’t you just ask him?”

Minho smirked. “You don’t think other angels have tried that? He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. It’s supposed to be a punishment.”

“What’s the hard way then?”

“Same thing minus the Archangel getting involved: your wings getting cut off,” he matter-of-factly answered. “The halo will break once your wings are detached. It’s only been done once, by the way.”

Hyunjin absentmindedly rubbed the area where the bones of his wings met with his shoulder blades. All he needed were two clean cuts across his practically impenetrable back.

“How do you do that?”

“With the Archangel’s sword. Another angel has to cut it though; you can’t do it yourself.”

The Archangel would likely banish him to Hell for even asking about his weapon. If Hyunjin ever did manage to steal the sword away, Jisung would never agree to it. He couldn’t just ask any angel to help him.

“How do you know about all this?” Hyunjin asked.

Minho hesitated, something he rarely did. He quickly recovered, hiding his sudden apprehension with his usual devil-may-care nonchalance. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”

“We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Friends. The word hung in the air like the sun, and Hyunjin knew that Minho would tell him because underneath all of his bluster was loneliness. Because no one liked Minho, or if they did, they still avoided him anyway.

“Yeah, we are,” Minho answered, smiling for a second before a strange expression crossed over his face, pride mixed with a touch of sadness. “Do you really think the Archangel would have expelled one of his favorite guardian angels that easily?”

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seungmin. He asked me to cut his wings for him.”

“I need you to cut my wings,” are Hyunjin’s first words to Minho after not speaking to him for days.

To his credit, Minho is only speechless for a few seconds. The dove in his hand pecks at him for more headpats before he recovers. “Well, do you have the sword?”

“No, but I think I can get it. When I do though, would you do it? You’re the only one I trust.”

Minho sighs and tosses the bird out of Heaven, grimacing a bit when he hears it squawk. When he faces Hyunjin, he smiles the same smile he did when he talked about Seungmin. “It’s always me, huh? I’ll do you one better. I’ll steal the sword for you. The Archangel’s been pissing me off anyway.”

For once, Hyunjin’s thoughts are not on you but his friend. He imagined that Minho would be willing, but perhaps he’s too willing. “Are you trying to get expelled as well? We can go together.”

“No, I like being immortal. I hate all of the BS I get put through sometimes, but the Archangel can’t kick me out. He swore an oath to me a long time ago before he got promoted, and it’s pretty much unbreakable. Besides, even Heaven needs a scapegoat.”

That explains why virtually no angels interact with Minho, Hyunjin being the exception. He has never heard of the Archangel being oathsworn, though it seems likely that the Archangel wants to keep that a secret.

“How are you going to get it?” Hyunjin asks. “How did Seungmin even get it? The Archangel always has it with him.”

“Seungmin was one of his favorites,” Minho reminds him. “He had easy access to him, and the Archangel trusted him enough to let him borrow it for ‘a study.’ Don’t worry about me though. Just wait for me on Earth. Somewhere where no one goes. I’ll find you, slice off your wings, and the Archangel won’t even know what happened to you.”

“That’s not possible. He always keeps it on him.”

Minho shrugs, a gleam in his eyes. “I’ve done it before. Why do you think I’m the scapegoat?”

Seungmin. For Minho and now Hyunjin, being Seungminned didn’t mean being expelled for being frivolous anymore; it meant leaving of your own accord.

“What happened to him?” Hyunjin asked. “Why didn’t the Archangel grant his divinity back? Someone should have spotted him on Earth.”

Minho’s wry grin was back. “You think the Archangel wanted everyone to find out the golden boy of Heaven no longer wanted to be an angel? Plenty of angels already saw him roaming Earth. It was easier to let everyone think that Seungmin was banished. So when they saw him on Earth, he was just a fallen angel, nothing important.” He nudged Hyunjin’s arm, and the solemn atmosphere vanished. “A troublemaking human isn’t all that bad. Like I said, the twenties are annoying, but they’re manageable. Is he one of those partying types?”

“He goes out sometimes,” Hyunjin carefully replied. Jeongin liked hanging out with his friends and you — mostly you, now that Hyunjin thought about it — but he wasn’t getting blackout drunk every night. At least, Hyunjin hoped he wasn’t. He usually watched over you if you were ever in the vicinity. “Speaking of which, I should check up on him.”

Minho said his goodbyes, and Hyunjin flew back to Earth once he saw that you weren’t with Jeongin. You were studying at your desk, rolling a pen between your fingers, reading through a document on your laptop. The desk light casted a warm glow on your face. You frowned, and your lower lip swelled outwards.

He wished he were human.

Just as Minho said, Hyunjin waits for him to arrive in a secluded part of the university campus. The building rooftop is devoid of anyone, and the area surrounding it is empty as well. The evening turns into night, then night into the early morning when the sky begins lightening. Still, Minho has not come.

He distantly wonders how Jeongin is faring and his promise to Jisung. When he’s human, he’ll ask Jeongin directly, maybe in disguise of a survey: “Why did you break up with your last partner?” Even to him, it sounds stupid. However, that’s not the real reason why he’s giving up his divinity, so it hardly matters to him. Jisung is resourceful; he’ll find out eventually.

Finally, when the sun peeks over the horizon, Minho descends from Heaven, a familiar silver sword in his hand. He lands beside Hyunjin, a triumphant smile on his face. But his usual humor has been replaced with solemnity.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks as he rests the blade on the top of Hyunjin’s wings.

He has never felt so sure of anything in his life. “Yes.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Then make it quick.”

Searing pain shoots through his body as the sword pierces through the thin skin and into the bone. The process is not as nearly as seamless as Hyunjin hoped it would be, and Minho breathes heavily as he pushes the blade down. Bones snap, feathers drift to the floor, and blood trickles down his back. The pain only grows greater near the end, but Hyunjin grits his teeth and keeps quiet. Dawn breaks when his wings finally fall to the floor, no longer white but splattered with red. Soon they fade into dust, and the remnants scatter into the wind. His golden halo shatters into sunlight. The world dulls as the last of his powers disappear, but everything feels much better than when he was an angel.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Minho, who he cannot even look at anymore. His eyes would be burned.

“You’re fallen, not quite mortal and not quite divine. You won’t be affected by all of an angel’s power.”

When Hyunjin cautiously glances at him, Minho waves the bloody sword at him. “See?”

“Yeah.” He wanted humanity, but this is good enough for him. He just needs you to be able to see him, hear him, touch him.

“I need to go back before Heaven becomes Hell, but find Seungmin if you can. He can help you figure things out. Last I heard, he’s living somewhere in the mountains.”

“Thank you,” he repeats. “Minho, I can’t even put it into words about how much this means to me. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Minho pats his shoulder before stripping off his clean shirt. “Clean yourself before you leave. No one wants to witness a walking crime scene this early in the morning.”

When he flies back to Heaven, the last thing Hyunjin sees are his wings, still pure white.

“Hey,” you said as you laced your fingers with Jeongin’s. He had just finished class, and you had waited for him outside the building. Hyunjin had sat on the other end of the bench, savoring the proximity. That was the closest he would ever get to you. “Are you busy tonight? The skate shop just announced — literally an hour ago, those jerks — that they were doing a midnight drop, and I kind of want a new deck.”

“Ugh, I’ve been meaning to buy new trucks, but I have to meet up with my group tonight. Send me pictures though.”

Disappointment only momentarily flooded through Hyunjin. If it was anything like the last two meetups, it would be at the library, and the library was a safe place. Jeongin would be fine there. Hyunjin would be free to shadow you as you went to the skate shop.

“I can get it for you,” you offered.

He shook his head. “It’s fine. Maybe I’ll just wait for a sale.”

“Don’t be surprised if I do get you new trucks,” you warned. You let go of his hand and held his arm. “I still owe you for last month’s dinner.”

Jeongin shook his head again, a smile making its way onto his face. “You don’t owe me anything but a kiss.”

“Flirt,” you laughed as you pressed your lips to his cheek. “Never change, Yang Jeongin.”

That night at the skate shop, Hyunjin hovered above you as you stood in line, chatting with others. There were no unscrupulous characters around, but he stayed with you, only going back to Jeongin when Jisung insisted. However, by then, Hyunjin had already seen you eyeing the shiny teal trucks through the window. Hyunjin knew nothing about skateboards even after all those months, but you seemed pleased by them.

“You’re only getting trucks for sure?” your brand new acquaintance asked. “This is, like, the biggest drop they’ve ever done.”

You shrugged. “I’m kind of on the fence about the decks I saw on the email. I don’t know. Maybe wheels too?”

Meanwhile, Jisung hissed, “Hyunjin, go before something happens. What if a fight breaks out?”

Hyunjin sincerely doubted that one would happen at the library. He lingered around, taking his time unfolding his wings and stretching them.

“Your boyfriend’s lucky,” your acquaintance sighed.

“Nah, I’m the lucky one.”

Daisies, that’s what he needs right now. Choosing the rooftop of a building was not a smart decision, but the access door is thankfully unlocked, and Hyunjin races down all of the emergency stairs. However, with no form of currency on him, Hyunjin heads to the quad, hoping that he can pull up some dandelions for you. You need to be supported, and bright yellow flowers are just the thing.

What he doesn’t expect though, is to find you doing pop shove its at your usual spot. It’s so early in the day; did you even go back to your apartment to sleep?

“Good morning,” he calls as he walks closer. He waves at you, and you can see him! You tentatively wave back and give him a halfhearted smile. “How are you today? You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, and I’m fine,” you politely reply as you take a step back away from him. “What about you?”

Hyunjin curses in his head and takes another step towards you. “I’m good. Really good, actually. I was wondering if you could teach me how to skateboard. I’m new here, and skateboarding seems like an efficient way to get around.”

You flinch at his words, and he desperately wants to take them back. How did Jeongin do it? Why do his statements come out so stiff? “You seem pretty good at it.”

“Are you not cold?” you blurt out. Hyunjin curses again as he realizes that he’s shirtless. His old one was stained, and Minho’s was as well as the result of his cleanup. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “You know, I have to get going, but it was nice meeting you.”

“Hyunjin. My name’s Hyunjin.”

“Nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

You grab your board and immediately head off to the direction of your apartment. Hyunjin is tempted to follow, but he stays where he is. A bad first impression isn’t the end of the world. The only thing holding him back is his lack of a shirt.

He wanders through the quad, scanning the grass for some flowers. Most of them are the white, fluffy dandelions, but he needs the bright yellow version. However, he takes the white ones anyway in case he can’t find any. The wind scatters the seeds, and he—

“Hyunjin, I told you not to come back.”

Jisung.

Hyunjin turns around, dropping his bouquet onto the ground. To his horror, not only is Jisung present but also the Archangel. His sword is strapped to his side like usual, not a blood splatter tainting it. Minho did an excellent job of cleaning up the crime scene.

“Jisung, Archangel,” Hyunjin nervously greets. The Archangel frightens him now. “How can I help you?”

“Jisung, why did you bring me here?” the Archangel asks. “I have other things to attend to.”

“He’s abandoned his human too many times, and I don’t think he’s fit to be a guardian angel anymore.”

The Archangel grasps the hilt of his sword and studies Hyunjin, up and down, back and forth. He circles him, and Hyunjin can almost feel his mortality-divinity shining through his body. Jisung hasn’t noticed yet, but there is no doubt the Archangel hasn’t.

“Normally,” the Archangel begins, “the punishment for not fulfilling your duties as a guardian angel is being expelled from Heaven. But you have already fallen.”

“What?” comes Jisung’s shocked voice.

“It was a mistake,” Hyunjin tries. Minho’s words ring in his ear: He only expels the ones who don’t want to be. “I thought I wanted humanity, but I’ve realized that being a guardian angel is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Please. Grant me my divinity back. I will never abandon my human again. I will swear an oath if I have to.”

The Archangel smiles with no teeth, and a chill runs down Hyunjin’s spine. “I’m in a forgiving mood today, so I will do just as you ask. Your divinity will be granted back, but you will no longer be a guardian angel. I’m stripping you of those powers and those duties. You will be replaced immediately. It was my mistake for tasking you with such a large responsibility when you weren’t ready yet.”

With just a snap of the Archangel’s fingers, Hyunjin’s senses sharpen, and the world comes hurtling at him. Nothing is dull anymore, but everything feels so dark and wrong. You will never be able to see him, hear him, or talk to him again. And he will never be able to either. Power surges inside of him, and new wings burst through his shoulder blades, fanning out once they reappear. A silver halo hangs over his head. There is no physical pain into becoming immortal again, yet he wishes there was something. Everything he and Minho did was erased with ease.

Hyunjin swallows the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he chokes out.

“You’re very welcome. Come along now. Only guardian angels are allowed to be on Earth.”

Hyunjin follows the Archangel back to Heaven while Jisung goes after you. The Archangel loudly deliberates on who he should be replaced with, and Hyunjin knows that his request was not granted with kindness. The Archangel informs that he will be a messenger again. Hyunjin barely hears him as he takes one last look at Earth. Jeongin is there. Jisung is there. You are there.

Hyunjin avoids Minho’s eyes as he flies inside the realm behind the Archangel and hides among the rest of the regular angels until he is called to send a message. The higher-ups recognize him, make snide remarks about his demotion, and make pitiful faces at him. He barely registers them. There is a hollowness in him, and no matter how many memories he recalls, it isn’t enough to fill the void.

A few weeks later, Jisung approaches him, but even he stays a healthy distance away. “Hyunjin.” The disdain is clear.

“Jisung.”

“You knew about the reason all along, didn’t you? You were there when it happened.”

“When what happened?”

Realization dawns upon Jisung, and he shakes his head in disgust. “I should have known. You weren’t with him that night because you left him like you always did! You could have done something. Make him fall off his chair or something. Make the girl lose her balance. Instead, both of our humans suffered because you weren’t there.”

“What happened?”

“A girl from his group project randomly kissed him, and he thought he had been leading her on and cheating on his own girlfriend, so he broke up with her because he thought that would be the right thing to do instead of just telling her what actually happened. They’re back together now because he finally got the nerve to give her closure. It took nearly a month. They were miserable for a month. All because of you.”

It stings. “They’re okay now, right?”

“They’re fine, no thanks to you.” Just when Hyunjin thinks he’s going to leave, he takes a step forward, lips curled into sneer. “You know, angels and humans aren’t allowed to be with each other. It’s been forbidden for millenia.”

“I know,” he whispers. “But I loved her, and I had to try.”

“She would have never chosen you anyway.”

He never had a chance, did he?

~ ad.gray

Yes, you did! I remembered it and wondered if you were going to come back! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

#stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids angst #skz angst #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x reader #guardian angel au #anniversary special #20210816

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ashasmonsters · 4 years ago

Text

The Thru-Hiker

Female reader x Male mothperson (Desmond)

Citrus rating: Lemon

Content: Full-on smut, references to unhappy breakups

Words: 5.1k

Note: Here's the story that earns me the "18+" in my description. This is my first time making anything this smutty public, so any feedback or criticism would be appreciated. Enjoy!

You raised the viewfinder to your eye. The rolling hills fit within the frame-lines neatly, the trail before you leading straight down the middle and towards the horizon. With a satisfying click the shutter fired. You lowered the camera and cranked the film advance lever, confident that shot would turn out well. You let the camera dangle from your shoulder once again as you looked around: this spot was close enough to the main trail that you wouldn't need any "breadcrumbs" to lead you back to it in the morning. The sun would finish setting in an hour or so, and bird chirps had given way to trilling crickets and cicadas. It was warm enough that you didn't need to build a fire. Your stove would do just fine.

"That's a nice camera."

You turned towards the voice. Standing behind you, closer to the main trail and obscured slightly by foliage, loomed a lanky mothman. He wore clothes appropriate for hiking the Appalachian trail, though you hadn't seen him around. This meant he was quick or hiking the opposite direction as you.

"Thanks." You answered. He pushed a few low-hanging twigs out of the way and took a step towards you.

"Is that a..." he paused, his brow furrowing above his red compound eyes as he searched for a word, "Yashica, right?"

"Mamiya, actually." You answered, hefting the brick-shaped camera from your hip where it dangled. "It's been a pain to hike with, but I love it all the same."

"I'm sure you've got some excellent shots in that thing. I'm Desmond." He closed the remaining distance and tenderly extended a chitinous claw. You shook it in turn and returned his greeting.

"I don't believe I've seen you on the trail, Desmond," you said, "are you using those wings or hiking southbound?"

"Oh, I'm hiking southbound. Flying would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

"I guess that is a silly question." You lowered your eyes and made eye contact with his hiking boots. "I'm heading northbound."

"Hm. You must have started the trail pretty recently."

"That's right. I started maybe three weeks ago. You must be pretty close to finishing if you're going southbound."

"Been on the trail for five months." He answered.

"Wow." You breathed. Maybe mothmen wore it better, but he certainly looked neat for having lived in the wilderness for almost half a year. You caught yourself staring. "Um, got any tips for a relatively fresh hiker like me?"

"Take your time and enjoy yourself." He said, looking down at you. "The trail is going to take the better part of a year from you no matter what, so there's no point in rushing it."

"Thanks for the advice." A pause. You saw your reflection in his ruby eyes. "Anyway... I don't want to keep you from the trail, being nocturnal and all." You failed to suppress a tinge of longing in your voice. The sun started to kiss the horizon, making the canopy above you look like it was on fire.

"Well, actually..." Desmond rested a claw on the back of his neck fluff, "I was going to ask if you would share this spot with me. It's going to be a full moon and I planned to take a rest to enjoy it."

"Oh," you said, glad the sunset was masking your blush, "that should be fine, then."

"I don't want to impose, I could always find my own—"

"No, really, it's fine." You said, gesturing around the sizeable clearing. "We're sharing a view, not a cot. I don't mind."

"Ah, right." He played with his neck fluff again. "Well then, let's not waste the daylight." You nodded and slid your pack off.

Your sleeping arrangements for the trail had been spartan, but still comfortable. You carried a thin foam pad which rolled up nicely and fit under your sleeping bag, a tarp with hooks for hanging from above, a camp stove, and a sack to keep your food strung up a branch and away from animals.

All of this was set up fairly quickly since Desmond was helping you. He was quite tall, which made stringing up the extra food much easier than when you had done it alone. In no time, your foam pad was safely encircled by your hanging tarp and your stove was boiling a pot of water. Tonight's dinner was an Appalachian Trail classic: dehydrated cheesy rice. You took the initiative to invoke full-on luxury by adding a handful of equally dehydrated broccoli florets. You had a guest to entertain, after all.

"Thanks for making me breakfast. Dinner, in your case." Desmond said. The dim blue light from the camp stove caught only the very edges of his chitinous frame. His red eyes shone bright like a cat's through the steam from the culinary masterpiece cooking between you two.

"Consider it my treat." You smiled back. There was a pause, so you pulled a topic from the air. "Are you a photographer too? Not many people can tell apart the brands of these old things." You patted your Mamiya camera as if it were a tiny metal lapdog.

"Ah, no," He said, almost defensively, "if you have compound eyes like me, you can't really look through viewfinders. It just doesn't work."

"Right, sorry." You rubbed the back of your neck. "Where does your camera knowledge come from, then?"

"Well... you know the old mothpeople stereotype about how we like light?"

"Um." You spoke carefully. "I have heard of it."

"I kinda live up to that stereotype. Like, very much. It's why I wanted to stop here to watch the full moon."

"Okay, but how does that tie into cameras?"

"It's kind of embarrassing." He fidgeted with his long white neck fuzz. "It's the flash. When it goes off, it's like... like..."

"Like a drug?" You finished for him.

"No! Not like that. It's not addictive... I don't think. It's more like... what's that thing humans do with their nails and their skin?"

"Like scratching an itch?"

"Yes! Exactly." He said excitedly. "I don't itch, but if I did, I imagined it would feel like when a camera flash goes off."

You chuckled even though you knew he was a little embarrassed. This whole situation was just too absurd, too odd.

"So you're like a connoisseur of camera flashes." A pause. He lowered his gaze.

"Mamiyas have the best one." You chuckled again.

"Well, then." You pulled your camera from your bag and held it before you. "May I take your portrait?"

"If it's no trouble," his antennae perked up, "yes please."

Wrestling the camera into shooting position, you flipped the viewfinder open and aimed it squarely at him. The scene fit perfectly within the frame-lines; the glowing blue stove flames in the foreground and Desmond's red eyes neatly in the middle.

"Looks good to me." You said, pressing the flash release. The flash, a piece of metal the size of your thumb, sprung out of the camera and whined as the battery charged it.

"Oh, wow." He noted. You pressed the shutter—

"Goddamn!" Desmond cried, shuddering. Briefly, a low chirr seemed to emanate from him. "Pardon my French. That was good."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Most people hate when I ask to take their portrait." You cranked the film advance lever and smiled. You returned your camera to its place in your bag, then... remembered there was a meal on the stove. "Crap, I hope the bottom isn't burning." You said, quickly grabbing the stirring spoon and scraping the bottom of the pot. You continued until you were sure the food was in good shape.

"You know, when I thought about making this trek, I was worried about getting lonely. Like I wouldn't be able to put up with just myself for so long... but I've already met so many people and they've all been kind." You continued stirring the meal.

"Then what made you consider it in the first place?" Desmond asked, cocking an antenna.

"Oh... you know... adventure." You lied. The resulting pause made you painfully aware of how bad of a liar you are. The cheesy rice bubbled and spat steam at you as if heckling your poor performance.

"I'd believe that if you had a fedora and a whip. And knew where the holy grail was." He chuckled, his mandibles clicking.

"What?"

"Ah, just a stupid joke. There's these old movies..." He cut himself off and extended an empty claw, taking the spoon from you and making it his turn to stir. "I don't want to tell you your business, but everybody I've met in the past five months comes to the trail to run from something."

"Well... you're right that it's definitely my business." You tried not to scowl. The turn in conversation had resurrected an unpleasant feeling in your heart; something in the same neighborhood as shame or sadness.

"Not if what you're running from is the law and you're a serial killer or something. Then that's definitely my business." He clicked once more. His attempt to lighten the conversation didn't help that feeling much. The cheesy rice heckled him this time.

"I'm not a serial killer, I promise." You started, drawing in a sharp breath. Perhaps you just needed to vent. Maybe that would ease this malaise. "Why don't you start? Tell me what you're running from first, then I'll tell you about me." You took the stirring spoon back from him. He ran a claw down his face.

"I'm running from a breakup. We dated for three years." He sighed.

"I'm... sorry." You said, unsure of what else to say.

"Don't apologize; not unless you're the girl she ran off with." His mandibles clicked weakly. "I'm kidding. She didn't run off or anything. She didn't even cheat. She just realized that men weren't for her."

You raised an eyebrow. "Three whole years?"

"It didn't take her that long to realize it, just that long to work up the courage to tell me. Maybe I wasn't her true love, but she cared about me a lot. She was so scared of hurting me that she bottled it up for most of that time."

"You didn't want to remain friends?"

"I did— and I still do. I... I just said three things: 'I need some time to process this,' 'I'm in a lot of pain but it's not your fault,' and 'I'm going hiking for six months, call me back when I'm done.' That's all I could think of in the moment, and now I'm here."

"That's rough."

"You're telling me." His shoulders dropped. "I'm used to breakups with jerks. That I can make peace with, because then it's like a problem that solves itself. Jerk breaks up with you, therefore no more jerk to deal with. But... when it's someone that you love, that you want the best for, and that means they have to move on... that's something I'm still trying to work out." He sighed hard and lowered his crimson eyes. "I think the rice is done."

You were so caught up in his pained explanation that you lost track of time. You quickly turned off the camp stove and set the pot on the ground.

"Thanks for reminding me." You grabbed your enamel bowl as he readied his and started dishing out the rice and broccoli. You both sat there in silence, enjoying the feeling of hot food in hand. "Anyway, I guess it's my turn to share."

"Please. I wouldn't want to dump my problems on you without hearing out yours."

"I had a breakup too, though honestly I think mine wasn't as rough as yours." You said.

"We all go through different things. It's not a contest." Desmond said, idly poking his steaming meal. "Tell me about it, if you want."

So you did. Over the course of the meal, you told Desmond all about your past relationship: the fights you had with your ex, the nights spent in separate sleeping arrangements, the endless worry over how much of it was your fault. He nodded sympathetically with each painful memory you unraveled to him. Remembering it all made you feel worse, but having him listen made it feel much better. When you had no more to say, he stared at you. You saw yourself reflected in his eyes. Your spoon was trembling.

"It's okay to cry. I won't mind." Was all Desmond said before you had to set down your food and hold your face in your hands. It's like you had been saving up a surplus of tears throughout all these events and just barely they were escaping you. You could hear Desmond awkwardly scoot over in the dirt to your side before he offered a rigid shoulder to you.

"Chitin isn't exactly memory foam, but..." You rested your head on him without a second thought. One of his claws found its way to your shoulder and you felt better for it. This was the first time you had mentioned your breakup out loud and unquestionably the first time anyone had offered you a shoulder to cry on, literally or figuratively. You quickly came to find even Desmond's exoskeleton quite comfortable.

"Thanks for listening." You said as your sobs started to slow. He plainly chirred in response, making his grip on your shoulder a little tighter. His embrace was the first one you had felt since the breakup. You felt warm and safe in a way you had previously only had with your ex long ago. His neck fluff tickled you as he leaned his head onto yours.

"It's okay." You could feel his mandibles nudge your cheek as he spoke. "I know how hard it is." Your composure returned, and you stilled yourself against him. You finally removed your hands from your face, your eyes bloodshot.

"I'm glad I'm not wearing makeup." You chuckled weakly. "Otherwise my cheeks would look like a barcode right now."

"That's the spirit. Enjoy the little things." He rubbed your shoulder. "That's what the trail is all about."

You found yourself naturally holding Desmond closer, burying yourself in his neck fluff and wrapping an arm around his side as he held you. He smelled like pine and smoke. You grabbed your bowl of food once more and resumed eating, not leaving Desmond's side.

"I'm sorry for smearing my tears all over you." You said, coming back to reality. The taste of rehydrated cheesy rice wasn't great, but it was warm and familiar. Combined with Desmond's arm wrapped around you, the pain and baggage from the breakup left you like grime after a shower.

"It's alright." He said. "If moths could cry, I'd be crying all over you too. We're in the same shitty breakup boat."

He and you sat there together, finishing the meal. The camp stove had been turned off for a while now, and the only warmth you felt was your own, reflected off his chitin. The pause was permeated by lesser insects chirping and wind gently rustling the branches above. As you finished your food, you became painfully aware that Desmond couldn't hold you forever. He'd have to get in his sleeping bag eventually, and in the morning, continue his hike to nowhere other than your distant memories. Or, maybe...

"Want to share my sleeping bag with me?" The words left your mouth before you could even react. A second later, you realized what you had said and your heart raced. Your face found itself hidden in your hands again.

Why the fuck would you say that? Are you crazy? How would you feel if he randomly propositioned you for sex, huh? To which your responded to yourself with, Screw it, I'd be down for that.

Oh well. The fact he'd leave forever in the morning was both a blessing and a curse... but for now, mostly a blessing. It didn't matter if you were "rebounding" or doing something impulsive. Whatever happened tonight would stay in tonight. You and him would go your separate ways and there wouldn't be any regrets to be had. You practically held your breath as he processed what you said; the pause felt infinitely long.

"I'd love to." He broke the silence, his mandibles clicking more than usual. "Unless you're having second thoughts."

You looked up at him and shook your head. Wordlessly, he took your hand stood up with you. You led him to your dangling tarp wherein your sleeping bag and foam pad rested. Luxurious it was not, but as you slapped aside the flap and pulled Desmond in behind you, little else other than him was on your mind. You sat down on your "bed" and turned round, looking at him. His saucer-sized red eyes glowed as they met your gaze. He stepped closer.

"You're sure?" He said, kneeling before you. "I don't want to—"

You leaned forward and grabbed his head, clumsily planting a kiss where his mouth would be if he was human. It seemed to do the trick; he gasped and relaxed, his mandibles caressing your cheeks. You pulled back to breathe.

"I'm not asking you to marry me." You planted another kiss on him, tugging on his neck fluff. "I'm asking you to keep me company tonight."

"If you insist." He clicked. Something in his tone changed. For the first time his voice had timbre and need. He had left his tone suited for polite conversation and jokes outside your tarp. Here on your twin-sized foam pad, all pretenses were gone. You both knew you were going to give yourselves to each other; yet he surprised you by tugging the neck of your shirt down and scattering little kisses from your chin to your collarbone with his proboscis. It was rough and leathery and frankly didn't feel like anything you had touched before. You shuddered when he took it with him, descending past your breasts and peeling your shirt off your belly.

"Desmond..." You sighed, the only thing keeping this encounter casual being the button on your jeans.

"Everything alright so far?" He looked up at you with his large eyes, his mandibles brushing against your thigh as he spoke.

"Excellent." You breathed, resting a hand on the back of his neck fluff. "Please..." You used the same hand to ever-so-gently nudge him closer to your midst, which was already roiling with burning need. With a single claw, he carefully undid the button and zipper. You shimmied out of your jeans until his neck fluff tickled the inside of your exposed thighs; your underwear soon followed. He clicked some more as you fully exposed your entrance to him, his eyes studying you and his claws gently finding their way to each of your legs.

"Forgive me, it's been a while." He said as he lowered his face into you. You reclined further, only gazing upwards to the tarp and a tiny patch of starry sky.

"Don't talk, just— Ah!" He pulled a gasp from you as he began his ministrations. With your head resting on the foam pad, you just closed your eyes and let the sensations fill you. Something of his, you weren't quite sure what, playfully danced around the edges of your entrance until it found its mark. It gently flicked across that tender nub and your hips bucked in response. You held his neck plumage tighter, desperately tugging him closer to you.

"Keep going, that's— oh, that's perfect..." He didn't resist your pull. If anything, as his fuzz tickled you and his mandibles started to prod at your folds he increased his fervor. Relentlessly he played across all parts of you at once. Hard chitinous mandibles spread you open while his proboscis felt like it was everywhere. It rubbed your bead with every advance it made into you, filling you with a tingling warmth that spread throughout your whole body. He didn't let up at all, your breath hitching and leaving you as moans. You rocked your hips and whined. Harder and harder, rhythmically to a rapidly increasing tempo. You gripped him tighter, burying his face into you. Ecstasy built within your core with each surge of his "tongue" until you could hold on no longer.

"Oh, oh!" You cried, your body seizing and legs locking around his shoulders. Pleasure crackled around your whole body and there, in the dark with Desmond wordlessly working you, you weren't sure how much time you spent at the peak. Slowly, the sparks behind your eyes stopped flying. Your breath resumed its normal rhythm. Lifting your head off your sleeping bag, you made eye contact with his glowing red orbs, the only source of light under your tarp.

"How did I do?" He chittered, his grin smug enough for you to sense even in the darkness.

"You were fantastic." You indulged him, running your hand through his fuzz as he crawled over top of you. He pressed his forehead to yours.

"I didn't tire you out, did I?" He asked before descending upon you and kissing you lightly. With the gap between you two closed, you felt something tumescent and twitching under his shorts brush against you.

"I suppose I can stay up some more." You giggled as his fuzz tickled your collarbone. "I'll just sleep in."

"Glad to hear it." Desmond rasped. His voice grew ragged as he nipped at your neck, cradling your chin in one claw and using the other to undo his shorts. In the darkness, you could only feel something slick, smooth, and long come to rest on your belly. You squeezed your thighs around it. Desmond immediately chirred louder than before, sounding like a baritone version of the insects outside. His deep timbre resonated inside you.

"Excited?" You teased, his length completely at your mercy as you held it between your legs.

"I've forgotten how warm humans feel." He rumbled.

"Can I jog your memory?"

"Please."

You released him from your thighs and reached down with a hand. You felt the entirety of his length in your grasp; it was delightfully slick and uniform with pleasant little ridges to encounter as your hand traveled towards his base. You grasped it gently, eliciting more bassy chitters from him as you angled it towards your entrance. You fumbled a bit in the darkness, but after a few tries his tip rested at your threshold. His eyes met yours.

"Ready?" He clicked.

"Go ahead." You gripped his shoulders and pulled him close, nestling your face in his fluff as he started entering you. His hips slowly began to close the distance, each ridge on his length pushing a squeak out of you. His pace was deliciously slow. You had just enough time to adjust but not to catch your breath. All you could do was hold him tight in the darkness, nothing but the sensation and his chirring to occupy your mind. It felt like an eternity of slowly being filled by him. Eventually, cool chitin met your wet bundle of nerves, sending electric pleasure up your spine and forcing a gasp out of you.

"That's all of it." He grunted, his body completely flush with yours. "Do you feel alright?"

"Give me a moment." you said, exhaling sharply. The sensation of fullness with him hilted completely within you took your breath away. Little moans escaped you as his shaft quivered inside your depths. Embracing him, you found a steady breathing rhythm once more. "Okay, you can move."

With only chitters in response, he buried his head in the nape of your neck, his mandibles poking and prodding as he peppered you with kisses. His hardness withdrew just as slowly as when he entered you, then returned with a steady tempo. Each time his hips rocked you moaned into his fuzz. You imagined if you and Desmond had met at a different time or a different place, you'd be voicing your pleasures into a pillow. Since he had started his rhythmic thrusts, Desmond held a low, purring chirr that surged each time his pelvis met yours.

He chittered something specific, completely forgoing English as he picked up speed. He released your shoulders from his grasp. Changing position, he now kneeled upright with his knees on either side of your rear and his claws firmly gripping your thighs. The new leverage and angle made you squeal. He pumped in earnest now, both the speed and impact making you moan with nothing to stifle your voice.

"Desmond!" You cried, one hand splayed above your head and the other reaching down to hold your sensitive bead, "Keep going!" His pace remained constant. The low chirr grew into a growl. He pounded over and over, his hips slamming into your ass. As if it took considerable effort, he wrestled his chitters back into grunting speech you could understand.

"Close," he said sharply, "getting close!" You decided against speaking, instead locking your ankles behind him and rubbing your nub feverishly to meet him at the brink. His pace quickened even more. His claws squeezed your thighs as he desperately held onto you— into you, his thrusts remaining deeper inside you as they mounted in strength. His chirring returned, ascending in volume and pitch into a strangled, desperate call. His gaze snapped skyward and his back arched and he desperately pulled at your entire body in an effort to seat himself as deep within you as he could. You cried out in time with him. Your voice reached its limits. You rubbed yourself with abandon as you felt his cock fire within you with great trembling pulses. The pleasure within you mounted, growing until it erupted with a crackling warmth that left you quivering and crying out. He held himself as deep as he could go, grinding his hips into yours. Hissing, he lowered himself upon you once more and kissed you hard. You wailed into his mandibles as you rode out your peak. His hard chitin ground into your nub and held you at your limit before his rolling hips finally relented. Still, but remaining deep within you, he broke away from the kiss. You caught your breath as your eyes locked.

"Goodness..." You panted. Your face burned. Streaks of cool wetness rolled from your eyes down your cheeks. Desmond's chirring slowed into nothingness. The only sounds left were your breathing and nature outside.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his usual tone returning slowly.

"I'm great, Desmond," You smiled, "but you managed to tire me out this time." He clicked, then slowly withdrew his softening length from your sensitive core. You felt something ooze out of you, but were too exhausted to do anything about it.

"Sleep, please." He said, stroking your hair with a claw. "I'll be right here. Don't worry about anything else."

When morning arrived, the hole in the roof of your tarp acted as a skylight. You had awoken fortuitously just before the golden beam would have shone burning rays straight into your eyes. You definitely slept in, but found yourself fully clothed. You expected to feel something regretfully sticky and wet in your underwear, but you were completely clean. For a moment, you considered that last night might have been a dream. That line of thought was cut short by the sound of boiling water and the smell of coffee creeping into your tarp.

You emerged to find Desmond sitting in front of a small fire, emptying granules of instant coffee into a pot.

"Coffee?" He offered. "It'll be done in a bit."

"Thank you, Desmond." You sat in the same spot as you did last night over dinner. The silence that followed was comfortable and warm, unlike last night's awkward pauses. You watched him shake the pot with a claw as the sun warmed you. "I guess I should also thank you for, um, cleaning me up. I kinda passed out on you there. Sorry."

"No, no. It's fine. I'm nocturnal, remember?" He looked up at you and grinned. "It felt good to take care of a sleeping human again. It reminded me of old times." His grin softened into a gentle smile. The instant coffee had fully dissolved and he pulled the pot from the fire. He filled, then offered you an enamel mug which you accepted. The aroma was cheap and comforting.

"I'm going to miss you." You held the mug tightly. You didn't meet his eyes as you spoke, instead staring into the coffee as if it would tell you what to do.

"Me too." Desmond responded.

"Could we... could you..." You searched for the best way to ask. "Would you want to be with me?" Desmond released a slow chitter. He shook his head, and his soft smile shifted further into a shallow frown.

"I'm sorry." He said softly. "I wouldn't feel comfortable whisking you away three weeks after your breakup. Hell, I'm five months out from my own and I'm still not sure about where I am emotionally." You nodded in response. The coffee in your hands cooled in the resulting silence.

"I guess this is where we part ways, then." You sighed.

"Maybe..." He finally met your gaze. "You're hiking northbound. That means you'll finish in what, five more months?"

"Four if I hurry."

"The trail ends in Maine. There's this tiny, tiny town up there." He mused. "When you finish the trail, look for me around town. I'll be there. If you still want to be with me... then we could pursue a relationship like normal people. Coffee dates and stuff. If not... well, I'll buy you lunch."

"Is that another one of your movie references?" You chuckled. His plan sounded like something straight out of a cheesy rom-com.

"I'm serious." He explained. "My mom lives up there, and I've got nowhere else to be in four to five months."

"How am I supposed to find you?"

"I'm pretty sure the town population is in the double digits, and I'm definitely sure that me and my mom are the only mothpeople there." You considered his offer. It was all you had to look forward to, really.

"Let's shake on it." You extended a hand to him over the dying embers. He reached out to meet you, but then suddenly paused. "What's wrong?" You asked, a pang of fear striking you.

"I have one condition: when you inevitably run into my mom, our story has to be something other than, 'we met up on the trail and had sex after an embarrassingly short conversation and a camera flash,' okay?" You burst into laughter, as did he. He took your hand in his claw and shook enthusiastically.

"We have a deal." You answered. "Don't worry, I'll come up with something good."

"You better. You've got four-to-five months to craft it." He clicked. You smiled.

When you both finished your coffee, you gave him a hug and enjoyed the feeling of his neck fuzz on your cheek one last time. The fire had gone out, you packed up your tarp and sleeping bag, and you took a few steps north on the trail. You stopped soon after and turned, watching him go. He disappeared into the foliage. Sighing, you resumed your hike. To pass the time you talked to yourself.

"Ah, so nice to meet you, Mrs. Moth-mom. Yes, of course, we met at a pottery class."

No! Stupid.

"We were flying kites in the park, and ours got tangled up together—"

Now you sound like you're referencing sappy rom-coms.

You sighed. At least you'd have a while to come up with something convincing.

#monster x reader #lemon #male mothperson x female reader #mothman x reader #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster love #female reader

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blueskrugs · 4 years ago

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Jump Then Fall | Jack Hughes

I am eternally soft for this kid, okay. this is not the original birthweek fic I had planned for him, but it is a bonus Swift Fic because I couldn't help myself. enjoy while I work on getting my shit together for the summer!

tagging: @marcoscandellas @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @poltoncarayko @robthomissed @letmeplaytheblues @troubatrain @ayohockeycheck @blackwidowrising @aria253264 @antoineroussel @starswin @glassdanse @ch-ristiane @majdoline @nazdaddy @hockey-more-like

length: 2k words

High school relationships never worked out. That’s what they always told you, at least, when you and Jack were young and in love. And they were right, sort of. You’d broken up not long after you’d both graduated, with Jack off to be drafted and you off to college. Except you’d stayed close, texting and talking on the phone often once Jack had headed off to New Jersey. He was one of your best friends, and you were thankful he was still in your life, but you weren’t sure you’d ever stop loving him, not really.

I like the way you sound in the morning We're on the phone and without a warning I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard

Saturday mornings always meant long phone calls with Jack. You’d both wake up early and make coffee before spending most of the morning on the phone, talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes you wished more than anything that you could see his face, but you weren’t sure what would come spilling out of your mouth when you saw him.

One cold morning in December, you were pretty sure Jack had still been asleep when you called. His voice was slow and rough when he spoke, but you could still hear the smile in his voice.

When you heard him yawn, big enough his jaw cracked, you laughed. “Am I keeping you awake?” you asked.

Jack rushed to answer, “No, never.”

“Jack,” you warned.

Jack laughed. “We got in late last night, I’m just a little tired, I’m fine,” he told you.

“I can let you go back to sleep,” you said.

You heard Jack sit up on the other end of the line. “No way, absolutely not,” he said.

“We’re not even talking about anything important.” You’d mostly been stressing about the end of the semester.

“So? I like talking to you,” Jack argued.

You sighed. “You’re an idiot,” but it came out more fond than annoyed.

Somehow, that phone call lasted almost two more hours. Later, you wouldn’t remember what dumb thing you’d quipped that had made Jack burst out laughing, but you’d always remember the sound of that laugh. You’d wished you’d been able to record it, to have it to listen to on rough days, on days you missed Jack a little extra.

I hear the words but all I can think is We should be together

Jack was telling some story about his teammates. You were only half-listening, paying more attention to his face as he talked. It was late, and Quinn and Jack were home for Christmas. You and the three Hughes boys had taken over the basement for the night. Quinn and Luke were sprawled out on the couch opposite you, and you were buried under several blankets with your feet in Jack’s lap. He was using one hand to help illustrate his story, but the other was resting on your ankle, warm despite the chill outside, his thumb absently rubbing against your bare skin.

Quinn threw a balled up napkin at you, jolting you back to reality. “What’re you thinking about over there?” he asked.

“What?” You threw the napkin back at Quinn.

Luke chimed in, “Yeah, Jack’s not that funny, there’s no way you’re smiling at him.”

“Hey!” Jack protested. You dug your heel into his thigh, and he turned to grin at you.

You hadn’t even realized you were smiling. You always seemed to be smiling when you were around Jack, you couldn’t help it.

“Just missed you guys,” you said, grinning back at Jack.

Jack squeezed your ankle and went back to telling his story. You still weren’t listening.

Well, I like the way your hair falls in your face You got the keys to me I love each freckle on your face, oh

When Jack first started growing his hair out, you hated it.

“No, why,” you said the first time you saw him that summer. Luke laughed from somewhere behind you.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and smirked at you. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You love my hair.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I’ve changed my mind,” you said.

Jack squawked, outraged and offended. He slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close as you giggled and tried to get away. “You’ll pay for that,” he told you. You dug your elbow into his ribs until he let go of you.

Later that night found the two of you left alone near the bonfire as the sun went down.

“Hey,” Jack said. You locked your phone and tilted your head back to look up at him upside down. “Do you really not like the hair?” he asked.

You snorted. “Would you cut it if I said I didn’t?” Jack shrugged, not quite meeting your eyes. You sat up and twisted to look at Jack properly. “You wouldn’t, oh my God.” It was hard to tell, but he might’ve been blushing in the fading light,

“Just tell me the truth,” he said.

You looked at Jack, really looked at him. He was tan, a new burst of freckles dusted across his nose. He’d shoved a hat on since you’d first seen him earlier in the day, but you could still see how his hair was just beginning to curl at the ends past the nape of his neck. Jack stared back at you, blue eyes dark.

“I guess I could get used to it,” you said.

Honestly, you were so gone for him, you were pretty sure you’d end up still liking him no matter what he looked like.

When people say things that bring you to your knees I'll catch you

Sometimes you didn’t know how Jack put up with it all. From losing streaks to being called a draft bust to people questioning whether he was capable of being a leader, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t have to deal with some bullshit. You knew it wasn’t easy, but he rarely let it get to him. Rarely, but not never.

It didn’t surprise you when your phone rang after a rough game. You answered the FaceTime call without thinking about it, smiling softly when Jack’s face filled your screen. He looked tired, dark bags under his eyes and his hair hanging limply in his face.

“Hi, bud,” you said.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed, long and loud, scrubbing his free hand across his face. You’d been able to watch the game, had watched the blowout happen in real time, just another loss in this skid, in a season that had started out promising for once.

“I’m tired,” Jack whined.

“You look like shit,” you told him. Jack stuck his tongue out at you. “Do I need to get Ty to delete Twitter off your phone again?” you asked. Jack rolled his eyes, but you weren’t joking.

“No, I just-” Jack rubbed his eyes again. “Did you see what my plus-minus was tonight?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Oh my God, no, we’re not doing this,” you said. Sometimes Jack wanted to forget everything about a shitty game, but other nights he got frustrated and wanted to pick apart every mistake he’d made on the ice. You dragged your laptop closer to you. “C’mon, open your Netflix, we’re watching a movie.”

There was some scuffling on the other end, with Jack accidentally pointing his phone at the ceiling. “Fine, but I get to pick,” he said.

You argued half-heartedly with him for a while, but he won in the end, and you settled on some movie you’d both seen a dozen times. It was quiet while you watched, a comfortable silence, heavy with familiarity.

“Hey,” Jack said lowly as the end credits rolled later. You’d been half-sure Jack had fallen asleep on you. “Thanks.”

You smiled tiredly at him. It was late, and dark in his room, and you could barely make out his blurry form on your phone. “Anytime, Jacky,” you said, but you meant, “I love you.”

You can jump then fall, jump then fall Jump then fall into me, into me, yeah

Your doorbell rang one morning in early May. When you pulled open the front door, there was Jack, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pocket, standing on your parent’s front porch.

“I thought you weren’t coming home for a few weeks still,” you said, leaning against the door frame. The Devils season was over, but Jack had told you he was planning on sticking around for a while or traveling some before coming home for the summer.

Jack took one of his hands out of his pocket and ran it nervously through his hair. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, instead of responding to your non-question.

You raised an eyebrow at him. You’d known Jack for years, and you could probably count on one hand the number of times you’d seen him be nervous. “Well, don’t hurt yourself with that, bud,” you told him.

He made a face at you, but it also got him to smile. “Will you just let me-” he started, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Hey, c’mon, let’s go inside,” you said, stepping back to let Jack follow you into the house.

In the living room, the TV show you had been watching was still paused, but you both ignored it. You sat back on the couch, but Jack stayed standing, awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“You’re freaking me out a little, Jacky,” you said.

Jack sighed and sat on the floor in front of you, leaning back on his hands with his legs stretched out in front of him. “I miss you,” he said.

“Jack, we talk every day,” you told him. “I’m right here,” you added softly.

Jack huffed and ran his hands through his hair again. He laid back for a moment, staring silently up at the ceiling fan as it slowly turned above you.

“Have you ever thought about getting back together?” he asked when he sat back up.

You thought about it a lot, actually, but you just said, “Yeah.”

“Do you think we could do it?” Jack asked next.

You hesitated on that one. You’d thought that, maybe, you could’ve made it back when you were in high school, but things were so different now. You’d listened to the opinions of others so much back then, had broken up in part because you thought that it was inevitable anyway. Could you make it through all that again? You still had a few years until you graduated, and New Jersey wasn’t exactly close.

Then again, you two were as close as ever. Jack had only missed a handful of your Saturday morning phone calls, and it was always just because of hockey. He was still sitting on the floor in front of you, looking nervous as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

Jack’s face fell a little. “Do you think we could try?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, just as honestly. You’d never been good at saying no to Jack, anyway.

Jack beamed, and you knew exactly why you still loved him after all this time. Jack leaned forward and tugged at your foot. “Hey, come down here,” he whined. “Wanna kiss you.”

“Or you could come up here?” Jack tugged harder. “Oh my God, you’re so fucking needy,” you laughed, but you slid off the couch and let Jack pull you into his lap.

His hands went to your waist, sliding under your T-shirt, and he smiled smugly up at you. “Hi.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose. “Hi,” you said back.

“Uh-uh, you can do better than that.” A kiss to his cheek. Jack rolled his eyes and put one of his hands on your cheek to drag you in for a real kiss. “That’s better,” he whispered, but you were already leaning in for another kiss.

#cait writes things #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years ago

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Don’t Worry, Darling (one-shot)

Synopsis: Falling in love with a co-star is something that can hurt, especially when it seems like they’re talking to other people behind your back, but falling in love with a co-star and being unable to help when they’re sick, is even worse.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Warnings: COVID-19, sickness, swearing, SMUT (fingering, m going down on f, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

Word count: 11 968 (yoikes)

Please note I’m not trying to make light of the pandemic or the virus and those impacted by it. It’s a very real and serious thing, which is why I decided to use it. Please stay safe and healthy, follow the local health guidelines and if you have the ability please get vaccinated. Let’s keep ourselves and one another safe, frens :)

When Y/N got the call she’d gotten the role of Jack’s ex-wife who’d disappeared in mysterious circumstances, she was over the moon. As a Marvel alumnus, she was excited to work with Florence, as she’d loved Midsommar, and knowing she was going to be one of the new faces carrying the next Marvel chapter, she wanted to get to know her. Having played Tony Stark’s adopted daughter since the age of six, she was very protective of the franchise but was excited to see where it’d go.

Then Shia LaBeouf, Chris Pine as well with Dakota Johnson’s announcements coming soon after, Y/N got even more stoked, and with Olivia Wilde leading all of them, she was sure the movie would be a hit.

Shia and Dakota had to drop out due to scheduling issues (which Y/N couldn’t lie – she was kind of happy Shia couldn’t do it), and that's where Harry Styles took over the role of Jack with Kiki Layne Dakota’s Margaret.

Now, when Y/N had seen Harry’s picture next to the re-cast e-mail the whole production had been sent out, she might’ve had a little (a massive, like a ginormous) freak-out. As much as she’d grown up listening to classic rock, due to Robert Downey Jr. and Iron Man, she’d been an avid One Direction fan. Like to the point, it might even seem a bit creepy. Y/N had sort of grown out of the obsessive phase of it all, but most definitely admired the solo albums they’d been able to produce, and when Dunkirk came out, she was excited to see Harry join the acting world, with the amount of talent he had.

The first table read was sort of awkward, and definitely the weirdest one, given how a pandemic had started, and everyone was at their respective homes using Zoom.

Y/N and Florence had been the first to join the conversation about half an hour before the official beginning, and by the time everyone else did, they were crying from laughter and had to excuse themselves from their computers to collect whatever remaining composure they had.

“You two alright?” Oliva Wilde had raised her eyebrow, as the women re-joined, still chuckling. “Will we have to use body doubles for the scenes you two are in?”

“No!

“Nohooo!” both of them yelled through laughter. “We’ll be as professional as professionals are. Which is very professional.”

Then Y/N made the mistake of glancing at Florence’s square, and the two busted out laughing again, spewing apologies in between, but no one seemed to really mind. In fact, it looked like they appreciated how casual and open everyone was being, hoping the set wouldn’t be stiff either when they moved onto filming.

And for the two women, it wasn’t really. Actually, they grew closer than ever. The amount of time Florence spent in Y/N’s trailer was to the point that the two started to talk about just moving in together. After scouring the nearby apartments for rent, they settled on a three-bedroom apartment, as two-bedroom ones were non-existent.

When Harry grew closer to them as well, given how he spent quite some time with both women, they suggested he move in as well.

“You know, what? I changed my mind. You’re taking away our closet, and I don't like that,” Y/N pouted, watching as Florence lifted a pile of her clothes and moved it to her room. “That’s not very ‘treat people with kindness’ of you.”

All he did was flick a finger at her forehead, which Y/N swatted away with a smile. When he’d double-checked about moving in with them (which, mind you was the seventh time, and half his stuff was already there), the two women were ecstatic. They got along amazingly on set and basically having a sleepover with friends every night suited all of them quite well.

At that moment, Y/N was sitting on the edge of her bed, knitting while Harry painted all of their toes and Florence put on facemasks.

“Wine!” Y/N suddenly exclaimed, almost knocking over the light blue nail polish bottle as she jumped up, throwing her needles back on the bed. “We need wine!”

“Do not ruin my masterpiece!” Harry hollered after her, as she waddled away on her heels, toes separated by foam and hight up in the air. She even had to manoeuvre around the carpet to avoid any hairs and fibres that could get stuck inside the still wet lacquer.

It took her a second to find a bottle all three of them could enjoy, given their tastes were so different – Y/N preferred sweet and red, and didn’t care if it was a three-dollar bottle from Target, Harry had a bit more of an expensive pallet, giving preference to something with a more of a lingering aftertaste and in the higher ranges of price point, while Florence liked rosé and white wines.

Taking two glasses in one hand and the bottle with a third glass between her fingers, she shuffled back to her room when she heard the two muttering something in low voices before Harry whispered harshly, “I’m not telling Y/N that!”

“Won’t me what?” Y/N’s question made him and Florence spring back where they’d been engaged in a heated conversation when she re-entered the room, putting the wine bottle and glasses on the nightstand.

Florence waved her off, giving her a smile, she didn’t believe in. “Nothing. Now come on, Harry will do your fingernails now, and I think it’s about time the mask came off.”

And that’s when Y/N’s heart dropped. She’d been in the industry long enough to know how fake people could be, how they could put on smiles so inviting and friendly while hiding their true intentions behind them. She just didn’t think two people she’d found so genuine and sweet would be like that.

And the thing was – it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the two whispering like that and hushing up when they saw her enter the room or even come somewhere near to them.

In the beginning, Y/N had chalked it up to the two being closer, given they had to spend more time together, so they knew one another better, but this time sort of solidified it wasn’t the fact the two were closer, it had to deal with Y/N specifically.

So, she started to distance herself. She’d had enough users in her life to last her for the rest of it. Y/N excused herself from the movie nights they had on most Fridays, she no longer joined in on the cooking sessions and mostly spent time in her room, or on work calls.

When she re-entered the flat, four weeks after their falling out, they watched as she nodded to them, and went inside her room, closing the door, much like she’d been doing for the past thirty days.

“Do you think she knows?” Harry asked, brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he hoped the doors would open, yet, obviously, they didn’t.

“Well, I haven’t told her, and unless you did, then I doubt it…”

Harry stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna talk to her.”

“You think it’s a good idea?”

“No, but if she’s upset maybe she needs to talk to someone.”

“Or maybe she wants to be alone.”

Harry bit his lip thinking over Florence’s words. When he was upset about something, he himself did like to kind of retreat and become a little bit of a recluse, to sort out his emotions before anyone else tried to jump in and help with it, but the thing was – Y/N’s distancing started the night when she’d walked in on the two of them arguing, and it’d been about the girl in question herself, so he shook his head. “I’ll just ask if she’s alright.”

He took a deep breath and went to enter the room he hadn’t seen in almost a month. “Hey.” Harry poked his head through Y/N’s door, making her swirl around in her chair. She looked adorable to him. She’d changed into a big fluffy nightgown, the hood up, a headband pushing hair away from her face with a green facemask covering her skin. The domestic life flashed through Harry’s head like a freight train, as it was something he craved, but pushed it away. There was no daydreaming before figuring out what was in front of him in reality. “You okay?”

“ 'M fine.” She shot him a quick smile. “Why? Did Olivia send something new for the script?”

“Um, no, ‘s just you’ve been, I dunno – detached a bit?”

“Look, Harry… I may be younger than you, but I’ve been in this industry longer than you or Florence.” Y/N stood and shrugged before crossing her arms. “And the thing is – I don’t care for shit like that. So, you two can gossip and whisper and talk whatever you want about me behind my back. Everyone else is doing that so, you’re not that special. But’ I’d prefer if you did it somewhere else besides my room, my space, and I’ll say this once, but very clearly – we’re not friends. I don’t need friends like you. We’ll be civil and we’ll do our jobs, but…” Harry’s heart broke at her eyes, seeing the pain in them as she nodded and made sure he understood where she stood. “We’re not friends.”

She didn’t leave any room for argument. When Harry left, Y/N didn’t even look over her shoulder to see him exit.

The next couple of mornings she didn’t see them leave nor come back, seeing as Y/N had the week off from filming, but the morning of the seventh day was awkward as hell, given how all of them had to go and get tested, and well, they had their allocated time slots one after the other. Usually, they’d take one car together, but this time, Y/N drove off on her own, while Harry and Florence carpooled on their own.

The tests were always nerve-wracking. If one person went down, the whole production did for at least two weeks. And as much as she hated going in alone, she was glad no one was with her in the car, because as she stepped out, a certain notion swept over her that this would be a lot different than usual.

A doctor dressed head to toe in protective gear motioned for her to sit down, as another processed her ID and work ID. Her leg was bouncing up and down the whole time, and he eyed her. If she could see his lips, she was sure they’d be pursed. “Anything wrong?” He handed her back the IDs before moving to the table where a set of large q-tips seemed to lay in sterile packs.

Y/N sighed, biting her lip and nodded. “Woke up with a sore throat and a small cough appeared on my way here as well. I wiped and cleaned everything down at the apartment I’m staying at and wore gloves and a mask the whole time.”

“Anything else?” the doctor asked, writing down each word as Y/N said. “The feeling of breaking bones, fever, muscle pain, eyes hurting when you look up, lost sense of smell or taste?”

“No, nothing like that. Just a sore throat and a small cough.”

The doctor let out a large sigh, probably from having to wear a full-on hazmat suit. “Alright. Just for safety reasons, so we know who’s a potential contact person, who are you staying with?”

“Florence Pugh and Harry Styles. We’re renting an apartment together.”

“Do you know if they’ve had any symptoms?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head honestly. “And I haven’t really interacted with them this past week, as they’ve been on set, and I didn’t have any scenes to film, and by the time they get back, I’m already asleep, and I’m still asleep when they leave so there’s been no direct contact. We have our own kitchenware, so there shouldn’t be any direct contact. I think.”

That last bit was half-true, seeing as she hadn’t been asleep when they came back, but she might as well have been. The second Y/N heard the door click, she’d place her headphones on or leave the room, only glimpsing the two faces falling as she did that.

The doctor clearing his throat and motioning for Y/N to open her mouth so he could take a swab and then to do the same for both her nostrils, was what brought her out of it. She was so used to it, it was like nothing at that point. “Okay. We’ll need you to stay in the car while the test is being run, and if it comes back positive, you’ll be placed in a separate flat, as to not endanger the rest.”

Her ‘alright’ was barely audible. Fuck. It just felt like the universe was against her. First, the two people she’d gotten closest to were whispering behind her back and being fake to her face, now she might have a super contagious virus to which there was no medicine really, nor was there a vaccine, let alone the thought she’d have to miss filming for potentially more than two weeks.

The thirty minutes of wait were agonizing, her leg bouncing up and down. Y/N’s eyes kept watching the line of cars slowly move forward through the tent and then settle behind hers. She knew Harry was about five cars away, and she was glad he wasn’t closer. They weren’t really allowed to get out of their vehicles while the tests were being run, and Y/N didn’t think she’d be able to not look back at him through her review mirror.

Two more minutes passed when finally, one of the med students in the full hazmat suit came up and knocked on her car window.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“ID please.” It was standard so that no med info got leaked. The only reason she had to rummage through her stuff was, because she’d bite the little plastic card in half if she didn’t throw it somewhere deep inside her bag.

“So.” The man sighed, and he didn’t need to elaborate. Y/N understood, but still, he had to confirm it to her. “Your test came back positive for COVID-19. The production has been informed, and for safety reasons, everyone will have to self-isolate for two weeks.”

Y/N’s head slammed against the back of the seat. “Fuck. Okay.”

“Because so far, you’re the only positive case, you’ll be placed into quarantine. We’ll need the address you’re staying at, and if you need anything from your apartment, we can send someone over to grab a few things. You’ll have to follow the black SUV right there.” He pointed further down the lot where indeed a black SUV stood. “They’ll take you to where the quarantine apartments are. Is there anything immediate you’ll need?”

“I – uh – I need my pills, my birth control that is. I take it every evening. Computer, chargers. That’s the most immediate I can think of. Maybe some food? I didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast.”

Even through the mask, Y/N could see the man smile. “Well arrange that. In the meantime, here’s the number for the coordinators who’ll get you the rest of your things and deliver them to you.”

“Thank you. I’ll call my assistant, and she’ll drive down to the apartment. She knows where everything is.”

“Have you been in close contact with her?”

“Just through the phone. She hasn’t been on set in almost a month, as I told her only to come when it’s an emergency… Guess this is it.” Y/N let out an awkward chuckle.

And truly that was it. With one last motion as to where the SUV stood, she started back up the engine, reversed out of the spot and followed the car to where the ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ production had set up a few quarantine apartments, specifically for actors and crew, speed-dialling her assistant Anna and letting her know of the situation.

“Shit, girl,” she’d cursed. “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Okay,” Anna huffed. “Do you have a spare key for the apartment by any case or do I need to go down to the lot and ask Harry or Florence?”

“Both of them will be at the apartment, given how everything’s shut down, so they should be able to open the door for you. Hopefully, if both of them are negative. If not, call me, I’ll tell you where we hide the spare. Thank you, Anna.”

“Of course.”

As Y/N pulled up behind the SUV, a man and a woman in face guards and masks stepped out. She ended the call and stepped out as well, pulling on a cloth face mask, an envelope in their hands, which they handed to her.

“Your flat’s on the third floor, 367. When you have the list of things you need, forward them to us, and we’ll gather your things.”

Y/N nodded and gave them a tight smile. “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

With a sigh, she took her bag and entered the complex. As much as she’d only had a small cough in the morning and a sore throat, walking up those flights of stairs made her winded more than it usually would. Maybe it was the knowledge she had a sickness, or maybe it was stress about missing work and putting everyone on lockdown, or maybe it was the combination of it all with her falling out with Harry and Florence on top.

She placed the key in the lock and twisted, revealing a studio type apartment, and it was so bare it made her heart clench. As much as she felt awkward being around Florence and Harry, their flat was a bit messy, had little pieces of clothing thrown around, giant knitted blankets on the sofas, a candle always lit whenever someone was home. Harry’s shoes were typically all over the place while Y/N’s make up was scattered around everywhere. Literally. Florence and Harry had gotten back early one morning from a night shoot and found her looking under the sofas for one of her lash glues as she started to get ready for the day. They’d made that flat their home for the time being. This… this was nothing like that.

She threw the keys on the small kitchen counter and shrugged off her jacket. They was going to be a long two weeks. At best.

***

Back at their place, Florence and Harry were pacing around, having heard the news that someone was positive, and everything had to shut down for the time being, yet Y/N was nowhere to be seen when a knock at the door disrupted them.

Harry was there and flinging it open in a matter of a second, only to be stopped by Anna instead of Y/N.

“Hey.” His brows furrowed as she and two people all wearing masks and gloves entered. “What’s going on? Is Y/N alright?”

Anna sighed, nodding her head for the two strangers to go towards the woman’s room. “She was the one who tested positive for the virus. Gave me a list of the things she’d need while in quarantine. We’re here to pick ‘em up and get them to her.”

“And she’s not doing that here?”

“Per the safety instructions, she’s been placed in a separate flat in self-isolation.”

“She could’ve done that here. We’d be fine with it,” Florence butted in, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re more than willing to take care of her. She’ll need someone to help her.”

“You both tested negative.” One of the people piped up, carrying a box of books and yarn. “I’m sorry, but she’ll have to quarantine separately until she’s no longer infected. She’s under the supervision of doctors, and she knows if an emergency happens, they’ll be there in ten minutes tops. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”

Harry sighed, nodding as the people exited their place, but before Anna could leave, he took hold of her bicep. “Hey, can you please tell her to call me? I just wanna talk.”

“I uh – ” Anna furrowed her brows, showing Harry that Y/N hadn’t said anything to her about the falling out they’d had. “I’ll uh, yeah. I’ll do that.”

With that he was left to close the door and just wait for… anything.

***

In the two hours Y/N had spent in the apartment, she already felt like going insane, having been left alone with her thoughts, so how she was going to do another two weeks after finally getting back into the rhythm of work was beyond her. She didn’t have any of her knitting supplies, didn’t have any of her books (yet), and most likely there was no reason to look at her script anymore, as she’d made up her mind about a lot of things.

There was a knock at the door, and Y/N instantly had a mask on her face and gloves on her hands. She peeped through the peephole and when she saw boxes lined in the hallway, three people in masks and faceguards at least six feet away, only then did she open the door and give them a wave.

“Everything should be here, but if you need anything else just pop me a message.” Anna then pointed at a bag that sat atop everything. “There are the most important things, so you don’t have to rummage through everything and a pizza is on the way while I do some grocery shopping for you. And umm, there’s a paper you need to sing that you know you need to be in self-isolation and that you understand what happens if you’re not.”

Y/N hoped all of them understood she was smiling underneath the mask, grateful for having them help her out like that. “Thank you. So much.”

She rushed inside found a pen and signed it, moving between the boxes to place the papers on the stairs so that they could be safely retrieved. With that, the two assigned people left, leaving Anna to say goodbye.

“Call me.” She pointed at Y/N. “No matter what, even if you just wanna talk for five seconds.”

“Will do.” Y/N nodded and gave her a thumbs up. “If I could, I’d hug you.”

Anna sighed, cocking her head. “Same. And umm, Harry told me to ask you to call him.”

“Yeah, uh thank you.” She knew he probably wanted to talk, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise, but it still made her stumble on her words. “Take care, Anna.”

“You too.”

***

The next two days Y/N spent worrying as to how to present her decisions to the cast and crew. She felt worse with every hour, and with that had come her thought process, but as much as everyone was going to be impacted by what she was going to do, Olivia would be the one dealing with it most, so later that night she hopped on a Zoom call with her director.

“Hey, girl.” Olivia gave her a warm smile, and Y/N almost melted. God, she loved that woman. She was like the older sister she never had. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright. Feelin’ kind of woozy from time to time, throat’s killing me, and I’m fairly certain I’m getting abs from how much I’m coughing.” That made both of them chuckle before Y/N bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Look,” she sighed, looking at Olivia. “The reason I called you is that umm… well, I think it’d be a lot more cost-effective for you to re-cast me. We’ve barely shot one scene with me. I’ll be out of commission for two weeks, as a minimum. It could get worse. And I’m definitely not going to be back before I get two negative consecutive tests.”

Olivia shook her head, running down her hands over her face and then through her hair. “Y/N, I really don’t want to do this. There’s a reason we cast you. You’re amazing, and yours and Harry’s chemistry is off the charts. We’re all quarantining for two weeks, and I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time, back on set and killing it like you always do.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course, I do! Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

“All I’m saying it could take up to a month to get those two negative tests. By that point, you could’ve shot at least a fourth of my scenes. Olivia…” Y/N gave her a small, sad smile. “I know you know I’m right. I hate to pass on this, but I won’t hinder the production. If you want my input, I’ll help with the re-casting, if it takes the guilt away.”

“I still feel like shit this is an option we even have to consider.”

“’S not your fault. You didn’t get me sick. We should be happy it’s just me, not someone else or more than one person.”

***

For two more days, it was radio silence from Y/N, and Harry and Florence were anxious messes. If they could distract themselves from the falling out while on set, then now, having to be cooped up inside the apartment with pretty much nothing to do, was so much worse, not to mention Y/N declined all of their calls and left their messages on read, leaving the only option for checking in either through Anna or what she decided to share on her social media, which wasn’t a lot. But the thing was, Harry knew his best bet was to call Y/N in the middle of the night. Disorientated and barely awake, she probably wouldn’t look at the caller ID once. And he was right.

A bleary face appeared on his screen, eyes squinting as she tried to block out as much of the light as possible. “Hello?” Her voice was scratchy, and Harry’s heart clenched at just how much pain her throat must be in, let alone how she was feeling as a whole.

“Hey, there, lovie.”

It took her a second to comprehend the person who was speaking, and she’d be lying if she said hearing Harry’s voice didn’t bring her some sort of joy. “Hey, H. Are you alright? Why are you still up?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about you.”

Y/N hummed, rolling on her side, and immediately regretting it as the action elicited a coughing fit. “Yeah?” she asked hoarsely. “ ’Nd what about me?”

‘How shitty I feel about everything’, ‘I miss you’, ‘I’m so fucking terrified’, but instead he asked, “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” Y/N croaked out before her body was racked with coughs once more. Harry’s own chest hurt just hearing them. “Fever’s finally down, so I’m getting some sort of sleep. Throat’s killing me though, and they’ve hooked me up to an IV. They’ll be coming in two hours or so to change the bag. How are you?” she asked quietly. “How’s Florence?”

“She’s alright. Upset. Just like I am.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Why’re you upset?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re sick, alone in quarantine and… and we can’t help you. I can’t help you.”

A genuine chuckle escaped her. “Didn’t know you had a medical degree, Styles. Could be my personal nurse. Fetch me my water and shit.”

“No, but at least I’d like to be there for you.”

“Harry…”

“I like you,” he said after taking a deep breath, hoping that the break he’d heard in Y/N’s voice as she’d said his name wasn’t just because of the sickness, but because her heart thudded just as fast as his when he thought of them together, that her mind reeled with the possibilities of where their futures could take them and that whenever they touched, she could feel the electricity that ran through his fingertips, igniting his whole body. “That’s what Florence and I were whispering about all the time. Is that I’m madly crushing on you, and I couldn’t gather the courage to say it to you.”

A strong coughing fit made her drop the phone on the bed and lean over, as she gasped for breath, and through it all, all Harry wanted was to be there. Fuck him possibly getting the virus, as long as he could make it easier for her in some way.

“ ’M sorry,” Y/N whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible as to not aggravate her throat. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, there’s nothing to apologise. You’re sick, you can’t help –”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I assumed you and Florence were talking bad behind my back. I never should’ve done that. And this is not an excuse, I’m not trying to shift the blame from being in the wrong, but I like you too.” She gave him a shy grin that he thought was as bright as the sun. “I really like you too, Harry. I think that’s why it hurt so much to hear you two whispering ‘bout something. And thinking it was about me, and it was something bad, hurt even more, ‘cause I really connected with Flo, and I kinda, well I kind of fell for you. Hard.”

“You did?” His tone was like he didn’t believe what his ears were hearing.

“Yeah. A lot actually… I – I really like you, Harry.”

He couldn’t explain how his heart expanded in his chest while simultaneously was being crushed by his inability to help, by the distance between them, while the hope that glimmered in his eyes at Y/N’s words made her heart break as much as his was, when he asked, “So you won’t resign?”

“Harry,” Y/N made her voice as tough as it could sound with her condition. “I told them to re-cast me not because of you. I’ve been on enough sets and worked with enough pricks, and still gotten the job done. Genuinely, this is not because of you or Florence. I just – I just don’t want to hold up production. You’ll all be out in what – twelve days or something? I’ll be here for at least twice that, if everything goes the way it’s going right now.”

“I don’t want anyone else to play Larie. You are my Larie,” he muttered, which made Y/N smile, but in a true Y/N fashion she just wanted to make others feel better.

“You do know Jack murders Larie in the middle of the night.”

Harry’s mouth opened like a fishes’ while Y/N’s mouth pulled up in a grin. “That’s – that’s not what I mean, and you know it!”

Both of them were laughing now, all tension having evaporated.

“I know.” She bit on her lower lip. “But um… we’ve gotta be practical. I sent Olivia my resignation letter already, and she signed.”

She saw Harry sigh and throw back his head at her words.

“ ’M sorry, Haz. I didn’t want to but –”

“I know.” His smile was gentle, understanding. “You always put everyone before yourself. God, this just sucks major ass.”

“Trust me,” Y/N started before being interrupted by another major coughing fit. “I –,” she took in a breath. “I know.”

Her heart cracked seeing Harry’s face and his green eyes, the eyes she’d gotten lost in more times than she’d ever admitted being lined by tears. “I wish I could help you.”

“But you are. Just by – by talking to me, by keeping my mind off things. You’re helping me more than you’ll ever know.”

“When you get out, I’m taking you on a date.”

Y/N couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face. For the first time in a while, she felt good, despite being sick. “Is that a threat, Styles?”

“It’s a fucking promise.”

That night she fell asleep listening to Harry talking, seeing as it became harder and harder for her to do so, so he just took over, telling her stories that lulled her to dreamland where he was there, and she could touch him.

The following days she also had calls with Florence and the rest of her cast to explain the situation, but she wasn’t doing much talking anymore, and one night they’d even seen her almost throw up from coughing so much, which broke everyone’s hearts. They were lucky the only Covid case before Y/N had been a light one, so witnessing just how brutal it could be, made everyone appreciate what they had, but at the same time, feel as helpless as ever.

A week and a half in, that was when shit really hit the fan. Despite her feeling shitty the previous days, now Y/N woke up from the feeling as if she was drowning. She’d fallen asleep while talking with Harry on FaceTime, his features illuminated on her phone. At first, she thought it was just her dream still lingering and causing that effect, but when after a minute or so her lungs still remained on fire, she knew she had to dial the doctors.

In five minutes’ time, an ambulance was at her door, and it was a miracle she’d been able to get out of bed to open it because the second she did, her whole body pretty much collapsed into the arms of one of the nurses.

***

“Come on,” Harry muttered into the phone, pulling on a pair of trousers as quickly as possible and a knitted sweater he took from the floor as he immediately tried to redial her, having heard the call drop. “Come on! Pick up, Y/N!” Her voicemail answered instead.

“Damn it!”

It took Harry seven minutes with the way he was driving to get to her assigned isolation place, only to be greeted by red and blue flashing lights, an ambulance right in front of the entrance, and it took Harry five seconds to feel his heart drop as a team of three doctors wheeled out a gurney on which lay Y/N, face covered in a mask, an IV stuck inside her arm while a huge plastic cover domed over her body.

Without even thinking about himself or his safety, Harry jumped out of his car, rushing towards the ambulance.

“Sir.” One of the doctors extended a palm towards him, keeping him back as Harry tried to get towards the inside of the car. “Sir, you can’t be here.”

“Is that Y/N?” Harry felt like he was spinning out of control, and his mind was dizzy from not being able to take in a proper breath. “Is – is that Y/N?”

“Are you family?”

“I –,” Harry so desperately wanted to say yes, to say he was her boyfriend at least, but he couldn’t lie. “No, I’m just her collegue – friend! I’m her friend. Is she alright?”

“Okay, well is there anyone we can contact from her family?”

Harry nodded, knowing that her mum and dad were on her emergency contact lists. “But her family is out of the country, and they won’t be able to fly out with all the restrictions in place.”

“Alright.” The doctor sighed before looking back inside the car. In a way, Harry was happy he couldn’t see Y/N because he was sure if he did, he’d completely break down and crumble to the ground. “We’ll contact her parents, but if you could leave us your number as an emergency contact on place that’d be a lot of help.”

“Okay, uh…” Harry took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds and then let it out before reciting the number he used while in the USA and his permanent UK number as well, so he could be reachable anywhere and at any point in day or night, no matter the time.

“Well keep you up to date.”

And with that, the ambulance doors shut, and they rushed away, the vailing of sirens echoing in the dark night, leaving Harry with a hand in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and without a clue as to what to do.

***

In the end, Harry had gone back to his car and cried for what felt like ages, but instead, it was just twenty minutes. He pulled himself together but was still shaking as he made his way back to the flat where Florence basically ripped open the door. Seeing his face told her everything she needed to know.

“She’ll be alright,” the woman muttered as she soothed Harry by rubbing a palm up and down his back, letting him hide his face in her shoulder. “It’s Y/N. She’d pull through an atomic bomb.”

They spent the rest of the night and the following day on the couch, glued to Harry’s phone waiting for any sort of updates. From time to time a text message came from the hospital letting them know what procedures were being done on Y/N, that her parents have been informed, and if necessary, they’d allowed Harry to be the main contact person because of his proximity to their daughter.

Three days later and the quarantine for the rest of the cast and crew ended, yet when they returned to the set, everyone was in low spirits. Especially, Harry – he was miserable. Every moment spent not reciting lines or acting was occupied with the thoughts of Y/N, how she was doing, was she improving, was she still breathing, how he wanted to just ditch everything and run to her, to help in whatever way he could.

“This sucks,” Florence grumbled, arms crossed over her chest as they took a break while re-setting already in for the fifth day of filming, eight since Y/N’d been in the hospital. “Can’t believe they won’t allow a phone in with her.”

“It’s the same policy for everyone, but trust me,” Harry sighed and looked up at the bright blue sunny sky above. “The number of times I got out of my bed in the middle of the night and had the car keys in hand is ridiculous. And the number of times I’ve thought about breaking into that hospital is even more concerning.”

Florence let out a small chuckle and nudged his shoulder. “I’d cover for you if you did. As long as she doesn’t have to be there alone.” She hung her head, blond strands falling down to curtain her face. “Can’t imagine how scared she must be.”

Harry just sighed. There really wasn’t anything he could say.

Something vibrated in his pocket, but he no longer furrowed his brows when unknown numbers called, knowing it was from the hospital. It was nerve-wracking though to pick up the call each time because he had to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of bad news, even though he always hoped for good ones.

“Yes, hi. Hello. I – oh,” he put a hand over his mouth and sagged down onto a chair. “Oh, thank god, thank you, doctor. Yeah. Yes, I’ll let her know, and someone will be there to open the flat. Thank you again. For everything.”

He took away the phone from his ear and stared at the ground for a minute before leaping up and hugging Florence, laughter escaping his mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, it’s the opposite. Y/N’s out of the hospital.”

“Oh thank god!” Her hands flew to hug him back.

“She’ll have to stay in self-isolation until the two negative tests and will be monitored by the doctors, but she’s out.”

Immediately he was dialling her, and Harry had never been as happy for the invention of a video call, because when he saw Y/N’s face light up the screen, as tired as she looked, it was the most beautiful sight that graced his eyes.

“Hey, lovie.” His voice was soft and low as if anything louder would worsen her state.

Her ‘hey’ was barely audible, but he heard it, and it made the weight of a boulder drop off his shoulders.

“I’m so – I mean we all are so happy you’re back home.”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “I’m happy too,” she whispered. “I missed you. Missed everyone, but most of all I missed you.”

Harry was happy they were separated by a screen because if she was anywhere in a five-mile radius, he was sure she would be able to hear his heart beat out of his ribcage at her words. “How are you feeling?”

“ ‘M alright,” Y/N tried to let him know. “Very tired.”

“Then get back to sleep, lovie.”

Y/N shook her head. “Wanna talk to you.”

“I’ll keep talking,” Harry promised. “Like we did before, okay.”

“Okay…”

And so, he did. He kept talking as Y/N listened, and he watched as her eyes slowly closed before she drifted off to sleep. Even though Harry had to go back to filming, he didn’t dare end the call. He’d never end the call.

***

It took a month and a half for Y/N to get those two consecutive negative tests, to feel somewhat human again and when she did, she probably garnered at least seven speeding tickets with how fast she was driving down to the set.

It was the most inconspicuous outfit she could scramble together, consisting of a hoodie and baseball cap, as she watched Harry as Jack lean down to peck the actress’s lips, then step into the vintage car and rev out in the driveway, while a dishevelled Florence started the scene from the side, eyes racking over Jack’s first wife, who was dressed the exact same way, hair styled like hers and even nails painted the same, her character putting all the puzzle pieces together.

“And cut!” Olivia yelled across the lot, nudging Y/N’s side and giving her a smirk. “He’s gonna freak. You’re all he’s been talking about on set. We almost had to put a ban on you as a topic,” she muttered that part so only the woman could hear while telling everyone to re-set, so they could do the scene from another angle, but not before asking the three actors to come and look at the monitors so they could understand how to move in order to keep the continuity.

Y/N moved to the side, ducking her head down as Harry, Florence and Mandy, the actress that took over her role, all leaned closer to watch the monitors. Y/N had to bite on her lip to keep the grin away, as all of them analysed their movements and the scene, nodding along to what Olivia was saying.

“Y/L/N, what do you think?” Olivia asked, grinning.

Y/N stepped forward a bit, seeing all of their shocked faces through her peripheral, as she pointed to the screen, lifting her head so that everyone could see her face fully. “I think it’s great, you might want to step to the side a bit more, Harry, when –” but she was unable to finish the sentence as he swooped her in his arms, lifting her basically off the ground, and burying his face in her neck.

“Watch the hair! Daniele will have a fit if you ruin her masterpiece!” Y/N laughed, holding one of her hands on the base of his neck, the other tightly wrapped around his shoulders, but he just shook his head, and she could feel tears splash her skin.

“Fuck the hair!” He let out a small chuckle, and she could hear the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much. I was so scared.”

“Same,” Y/N whispered. “Missed you like crazy. And your stupid, unfunny dad jokes.”

“ ‘M hilarious, lovie, what are you talking about?”

He finally set her down but didn’t let go of her waist, and she smiled cupping his cheeks. “A true comedian, that’s what you are.”

“I know. Why’dya think I got that SNL slot?”

But his eyes, as he gazed into hers once more glassed over.

“Hey,” Y/N cooed wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, cause then I’ll cry, and we’re both gonna be crying messes, and then these guys will have to deal with that.”

Harry sighed, leaning into her touch. “Happy tears, lovie. All happy tears.”

The two looked at one another as if there was no one else in the universe. And for the two of them, there really wasn’t. Neither had to say what was on their minds, they already knew.

His face was inching closer to Y/N’s, and heart started to beat erratically, not that Harry minded, as his palm rested in the middle of her back. In fact, his own heart mimicked the rhythm, but it stuttered when someone behind him cleared their throat and interrupted their moment.

Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest as he sighed at Olivia’s raised eyebrow.

“You’ll be able to smooch as much as you want, but we need him in hair and make-up.”

“Oli-“

“Now,” she let out a small laugh. “Before Daniele removes my head from my shoulders.”

“Go,” Y/N patted his side. “I’ll still be here.”

“Is that a threat?”

She grinned up at him. “A fucking promise.”

Harry dashed away like lightning, hoping that the quicker he was done, the sooner he could have Y/N back in his arms even if it was for a second, but her attention was taken by a woman with long blond curls, a flowing green slip on her figure; her steps unsure as was the wave she gave her, but Y/N’s heart melted at the sight of her.

“Hey, Flo,” she whispered and brought the girl in a bone-crushing hug, holding onto her, trying to convey how much she regretted her words and actions, especially because they were unwarranted.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, and she nodded.

“Me too.”

Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“And I should’ve made sure Harry pulled his head out of his ass.”

That made both of them laugh, and it was nice to do it not only without having to cough up her insides, but to do it with someone she’d connected with and had become great friends with.

“He did that. I just hope if he wants to make another move, it won’t take me dying to push him to.”

Florence pointed at her, a serious look on her face. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he does.”

A small noise of someone clearing their throat from behind Y/N took both of their attentions for them to go onto the actress who’d been cast as her replacement, the woman coming forward and extending her hand for a handshake with a nervous smile. “Hi. I’m Mandy.”

“ ‘S very nice to meet you.” Y/N tried to give off as open and accepting of a vibe as much as possible, because she genuinely wanted Mandy to feel respected and that she wasn’t a threat. “Before you think anything if you’re worried about me taking the role, don’t. It’s all yours, so don’t worry about that. I just stopped by ‘cause I hadn’t seen anyone in almost two months. Never thought I’d say this, but fuck did I missed people.”

Mandy shook her head, her smile a lot lighter and brighter now. “I – uh thank you for that actually. I’m a huge fan of yours, and well, can only try and live up to what you would’ve portrayed.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll absolutely kill it, and I can’t wait for the movie.”

It was great to see Mandy’s shoulders drop in relief. “Would it be too much if I asked for advice on the role?”

“No,” Y/N laughed. “But I would say that you should make this role your own. It is yours. You are Larie now. And Harry’s Jack. Make it yours.”

As she said that, she turned to watch Harry who was practically bouncing on his feet, green eyes flitting back to where she was standing, and when their gazes met, neither could help the smiles blooming on their faces.

“You know he messed up a scene once and said your name?”

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked over at Mandy. “What do you mean ‘said my name’?”

“It was a kissing scene. The wedding bit, actually. As Jack and Larie recited their vows, and he leans down to kiss her, he was supposed to say, ‘I’ll love you Larie, until the very end’. He said your name instead.”

That hit Y/N more than a semi-truck wheeling a ton of bricks would. Yes, she knew Harry liked her, and he knew she liked him, but love was a big word, and for him to admit that, whether it was a flub or not, was even bigger.

Harry was a private person. While he openly talked about what he felt, he guarded heart at the same time, much like Y/N did. But she had to wait until Olivia yelled cut for the day, and had to watch him make a mad dash for hair and make-up before running to the dressing trailer as he didn’t want to miss out on a second he could spend with her. Even as they walked up to their shared flat and he opened the door, his fingers stayed intertwined with hers.

“How does it feel to be back?”

“Kinda shitty, honestly,” Y/N laughed throwing the keys to the table and shrugging out of the jacket and taking off the cap, Harry immediately helping her and putting it on one of the racks. “I’ll have to move out, now that I’m not part of the movie.”

“Why? ‘S not like the production is paying our rent, we’re doing it out of our own pocket.”

“Yes, but now that I don’t have a job, I kinda need to look for one.”

“And what says that you can’t live here while you do that?”

“I –,” Y/N’s brows furrowed. “I mean nothing, really… I just… kinda thought because I’m not part of the movie anymore it’d be safer if I found my own place. But um… I think I have something else I’d like to talk about. Mandy,” Y/N dragged out her name a bit, a sly smirk appearing on her face, “told me you had a flub on set.”

Harry’s heart was pounding underneath her palm where she’d grabbed onto the lapels of his dress shirt, so he couldn’t run away.

“I’ve uh,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve had a couple of flubs on set. Who hasn’t?”

“I don’t doubt that. But she said you misspoke a name.”

She made him look into her eyes and wouldn’t dare let their gaze break. “You said my name during the wedding scene. You said Y/N. Not Larie.”

Harry looked like a cross between a deer in headlights and a fish out of the water, eyes wide with his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out, which made Y/N worry a bit.

She placed a palm against his cheek. “Harry? You alright?”

“I – I meant it.” He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “And when I thought back on it, I don’t remember seeing her face or Larie’s face. It was yours. And the lips I was kissing belonged to you too. I was holding your hand, and you were holding mine. And I know it’s way too quick, for a wedding -”

“Unless you threaten me with it –”

“I –,” Harry stuttered before laughing, all tension evaporating from his body. “No, that I don’t want to be a threat. That will be a question asked with love and hopefully an answer given to it the same way.”

Y/N nudged his nose with hers. “Well, we’ll see. I mean if you don’t kiss me what makes you th–,”

But she didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before his lips were on hers, pressing with such gentleness, it made her weak at the knees, and she would’ve crumbled if Harry’s arms handn’t woven around her middle, fingers pressing into the sides, the pressure increasing with each second their mouths were connected.

Harry’s hand drifted up Y/N’s back and settled on her neck as if he could pull her any closer, her own palms slipping over his stomach, pecks and grabbing onto his jaw, fingers lightly scratching at the stubble that’d grown throughout the day. He had to shave every morning for the role of Jack, but each evening she’d see a small, darkened shadow across his skin, and Y/N would be lying that when she’d realised her attraction to him, she hadn’t thought about how delicious it would feel to have it leave small burn marks on the inside of her thighs.

Unconsciously, she clenched her thighs, trying to create some sort of friction which became more and more unbearable as she felt Harry moan into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her lower lip, asking for permission without words, which Y/N granted without a second to spare.

It was heavenly to have him so close to her. She did wonder if the sensation was intensified by the fact, she hadn’t been able to touch anyone properly for almost two months, but that thought vanished when his fingers skimmed underneath her hoodie, brushing against her heated skin. No. It was because it was Harry.

“I –,” he was breathless as he pulled away, but Y/N didn’t let him get too far, her lips attaching themselves to his neck, making him groan in pleasure. “I don’t want to push this too far.”

Her brows scrunched up, as she took a look at him. “What do you mean? If you think I don’t want this, then let me be perfectly clear – I do. A lot.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking glad you do, but… Y/N you just got out of the hospital, where you were on a ventilator. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

“Not your choice to make.” A devious smile appeared on her face, as she stepped a few feet away and lifted her hoodie over her head, making Harry inhale sharply. “So here are your two options.” Her hands went behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it slowly drop to the floor, the green eyes that hadn’t left her now wide as saucers. “Number one.” She toed off her boots and popped open the button of her jeans. “We can stop this, obviously, just say the word, and I get to my room, start packing and looking for a new place. We can have some dinner and just chill. Or number two.” Y/N hooked her jeans behind her thumbs and slowly dragged them down her legs, revealing more and more of herself to Harry. “We can go inside your room and make up for the lost time. In every position imaginable, for as long as you want. But.” Y/N’s eyes glimmered with mischief as she made her way to Harry’s room. “I don’t think you wanna take the first option.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, turning it from the meticulously gelled hairstyle into a mop of messy strands. “You know you’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman.”

Y/N swayed her hips a bit more as she took another step closer to his room, the door meeting her back, and one of her hands went to the doorknob, pressing down on it. “Well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date, and definitely not like that.”

He stood there, hands on his hips, eyes not leaving her body, as she cocked her head. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

They were ten torturous seconds for both, hearts beating out of their chests, but it only took three steps for Harry to cross the hallway, his hand sneaking behind Y/N’s back and pressing down on the doorknob as well, revealing the inside of his room. It was messy, much like her own, but it wouldn’t take too much to rip all off the tossed around bedding leaving a whole bed to themselves.

“You. Are. The. Devil.”

Her smile was nothing short of wicked. “I mean you can listen to the angel on your shoulder.”

“I’d rather listen to you.”

Together they stepped inside, and Y/N nodded. “Making good choices already.”

“Can’t get on your bad side, can I now?”

“I mean you can.” Her legs hit the back of his bed and she fell down on it, Harry leaning over, resting his elbows next to her head. “But bad boys get punished.”

His nose skimmed over hers. Now he was the one smiling like a devil. “I’ll hold you to your word. For future reference, that is.”

That kiss was nothing like their first. This was messy, and passionate, all tongue and teeth, hands grabbing everywhere possible to get the other unclothed. Or at least that’s what Y/N was trying to do, seeing as she was pretty much naked already, and Harry was the one still wearing too much.

Her hands pretty much ripped open the shirt. It one of his expensive Gucci ones, she was quite certain of it, but it didn’t seem like he cared, as he shrugged it off, throwing it to land somewhere on the floor.

Y/N sighed into his mouth as her hands were now freely allowed to run over his chest, over the ink embedded into his skin, over taut muscles that relaxed under her touch, and dig into his sides in an attempt to leave her own marks on him, much like he was going to do to her.

“Think you can take your pants off? It’s only fair.” Y/N muttered into his mouth and his own travelled down to her cheek, then neck and to her chest.

“You mean my trousers?”

Her lips quirked up and she shrugged her shoulders. “No, in this case, I meant pants the British way.”

“And if I’m going commando?”

Y/N pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him away from her. “You had nothing underneath all day on set?”

“No! I wouldn’t subject the dressing department to that. But underneath this.” He looked down at his jeans and smiled at her. “I do have nothing.”

“Well then? Get on with it!”

Both of them were giggling, as Y/N tried to unbuckle Harry’s belt, his own fingers mixing with hers as he went for the zipper and the button. He nudged his head towards her. “Your socks and pants come off as well. Or we’ll be unevenly matched.”

Y/N lifted her eyebrow, as she went for her own remaining pieces of clothing. “No socks during sex?”

“No, what kind of a weirdo do you think I am?”

“And if my feet get cold?” She threw them away somewhere.

“We have a blanket.”

As Harry removed his jeans and his own socks, Y/N slipped off the dampened piece of clothing that’d been on her, now both of them completely naked.

“Alright.” He leaned over her again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling them chest to chest. “Happy now?”

Y/N deeply kissed him. “Very. But I think we can make each other even happier.”

“Agreed,” Harry hummed. “Wanna get a taste first.” He attached his lips to her collarbones sucking a bruise there. “Can I?”

She groaned at the feeling, knowing there be a pleasant ache that accompanied mark. “You can. Don’t have to, if you don’t want. No need to do this for me.”

“And if it’s for me?” Harry was moving lower and lower with each word, wet tongue flicking against a perked bud, and making Y/N gasp. “What if I wanna feel you cum on my tongue, and what if I wanna do something I’ve dreamed about for months now?”

His hands were kneading her breasts, mouth having left a trail of kisses down the middle of her stomach as it was moving towards where an ache that’d been left untreated made itself more and more prominent.

“Then please, please, please do something, Harry.”

“With pleasure.”

Luckily for Y/N, she didn’t have to beg any more, as his mouth attached itself to where she wanted him most, tongue sweeping past her lower lips and licking up a broad, steady stripe.

One of her hands went to fist into her hair and the other into Harry’s. “Shit,” she moaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Guide me.” He licked a circle around her clit. “Tell me how you like it.”

“Mhgm, fuck, okay,” Y/N breathed out. “I – I mean you’re doing great on your own.” Her chest was heaving as if she was running a marathon, and Harry shifted her legs so that they lay over his shoulders. “But umm, like if you lick around my clit, but like really press down li – oh, fuuuuck, just like that.”

The coil in her stomach tightened with each pass he did, just like Y/N had instructed, small tight circles just how she did with her fingers, only what took her sometimes half an hour, Harry managed to do in less than ten minutes, to have her toes curling and hands grasping anywhere they could find purchase to just keep onto something real.

The vibrations from Harry humming sent shivers straight to her core. “What else, lovie? What else, do you like?”

“If – if –,” Y/N panted, “if you suck on it, but like – fuck – shit! If you kinda keep a seal around my clit, that fuck! Yes!”

The way Harry was eating her out was almost sensational, but what made it even better wasn’t that he just decided to do something and assumed, she’d like it, he asked, he wanted to learn and discover what made her tick and turn, or in this case – cum.

“Harry, ‘m close,” Y/N warned him, feeling the warmth slowly start to spread all throughout her body.

“I’ll get you there.”

He let his lips go for a moment before slipping two of his fingers so that they pinched her clit and moved them slowly but tightly up and down it, while his tongue went to slip inside her hole, and that did it for her.

With a gasp of air, Y/N’s eyes rolled to be back of her head, hips lifting up as euphoria exploded through her veins. Her mind went completely dizzy, and she was quite sure some drool also dribbled down the side of her mouth because she’d lost all ability to function.

“ -o me, love,” Y/N heard as if through a fog, and then felt two soothing palms running up and down her legs. “Come back, love. There you go.”

A drunken smile bloomed on her face, and she ran a hand down it, the same hand that’d grabbed Harry’s hair like a vice. “Fuck. You’re good, you know what you’re doing.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoyed yourself because I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

She watched as he straightened out to sit on his knees, her legs still over his shoulders, cock slapping against his stomach, and when she looked down there was a wet patch on his side of the sheets, a sly grin morphing on her face. “You liked eating me out so much you came yourself?”

“What can I say – bringing pleasure, gives me pleasure. And your cunt’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever eaten. But… do you think you’re ready for me?” Harry asked, kissing the inside of Y/N’s thighs and watching as she vigorously nodded her head, but he just smirked. “I think I need to test it out. Just to make sure.”

“Harry,” Y/N whined as she felt his fingers skim the apex of her thighs, teasing her.

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

With that, he used one of his hands to open up her lips, his thumb pressing down on her already sensitive clit, eliciting a gasp before he allowed two fingers to skim her entrance and then slipped in.

“Still so tight,” he said, watching as Y/N sighed and her mouth fell open, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Told you needed to check if you were ready. What kind of a gentleman would I be now, if I didn’t make sure you could take it?”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “I can take you.”

“Don’t doubt it.” Harry left kisses along her leg, as he continued on with his movements, noting how her hips slowly started to grind down on his palm, so he pushed his fingers in deeper so that the heel of his hand could rest against her clit, making the pleasure intensify. “But I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you when all I wanna do is give you pleasure. And you weren’t stretched out enough. Not yet at least.”

“Oh, god, Harry,” Y/N groaned, one arm thrown over her eyes as his fingers hit just the right spot.

“That’s it? Right there?”

“Yes, right there,” she moaned. “Just. Fuck! Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

“Gonna cum again?”

“Yes, just – just curl your fingers and twist them a bit more.”

And much like the first time, a couple more times was all it took. Her orgasm was even more powerful than the previous and fully knocked her breath out of her lungs. Her legs fell open around his shoulders, stomach and chest spasming from the intensity.

Gentle fingers skimmed up and down Y/N’s arms and featherlight kisses fluttered over her breasts, then chest, neck and finally were peppered across her cheeks.

“Kinda spaced out on me there. You alright? Not too much?”

“ ’M – I’m good. But I’m pretty sure you’ve killed me.”

Harry chuckled, and Y/N leaned her head to the side so she could press a kiss against the closest of the swallow tattoos. “Hopefully not. I still wanna take you out on that date.”

Her eyes landed on Harry’s left hand’s ring finger, where a golden band still laid.

“Oh, yeah.” He lifted the digits, still covered in her cum before pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. “Forgot to remove it. Hope the prop guys don’t kill me.”

She hated how his eyes sparkled, absolutely knowing what that sight did to her, how it made her stomach flutter and heart thunder against her ribs. Y/N was sure with the force it was pounding, they’d crack.

“Well, if they don’t, I will.” She pulled him down, nails raking on his skin, dragging to rest on his ass as they bit into it. “Now get inside me.”

“Condom.”

“No, ‘m on the pill.”

“I’m clean, I swear, but it’s still not a hundred per cent safe.”

Y/N shook her head. “I’ll buy the morning-after pill. Just need you inside.”

“You sure?” Harry placed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah. I mean I’m clean, and uh… I just wanna feel you.”

He’d cum once already, and Harry would be dammed if he did it again before having the chance to know how heaven feels like. As gently as possible, he took himself, giving a few strokes before nudging the tip against Y/N’s clit, her sharp inhale stalling him until she nodded.

Her nails dug into his biceps, as he finally slipped inside her, making both of them moan at the feeling. Even with all of the stretching out he’d done with his fingers, and the two orgasms he’d drawn from her, the slickness helping everything to be easy and smooth, Y/N still felt a little sting.

Harry’s head dropped to Y/N’s shoulders and even from under him, she could feel his thighs and stomach shaking, as he tried to hold his composure and give her a little bit of time to adjust.

A couple of deep breaths later, she tapped his ribs. “You can move now.”

“ ‘ya sure?”

“Mhm,” Y/N nodded her head and pecked his lips reassuringly. “Please.”

His dishevelled and sweaty hair shook as he nodded and slowly drew back his hips so that just the tip of his cock remained in her before gliding back inside. The sight alone was more than enough to make both of them explode, but they wanted to last longer than thirty seconds, especially for their first time together. There’d be quickies for later, now they wanted to have a proper shag.

Bit by bit, Harry’s pace quickened, pearls of sweat gliding down his skin and dampening the sheets below them, much like it was with Y/N. Her leg slid up to rest around his hips, giving him a better angle and more leverage for him to strike the right spot, as he pushed her knee to rest against her chest, Y/N’s head falling back to the pillow.

Her insides were shaking from the pleasure, and it was like an invisible force was pushing down on her chest, as she struggled for a proper breath. “Harry,” she dragged out his name, the word turning into a high-pitched whine.

“I know,” he responded in the same breathless voice. He could feel her tighten around him and wasn’t sure just how much longer he’d be able to keep up the pace. “Touch yourself ‘f me, lovie. C’mon, use those fingers.”

Y/N did as she was told. It didn’t give her that butterfly feeling like it’d happened when they’d been Harry’s, but it did make her cum faster, and the sensation of her gushing around his cock made him lose all self-control and he spilled inside.

It wasn’t enough for Y/N, but she guessed she needed to settle for it. She knew that nothing really ever touched in the universe, that the closest atoms ever come to touching one another is when their wave packets overlap, much like she and Harry were now overlapping, his body lying on top of hers, skin sweaty and frame trembling as he came down from his own high.

“I uh,” Y/N cleared her throat, finger tracing the outline of one of the butterfly in the middle of Harry’s chest. “When the people came to get my stuff, I umm, asked them to take your rainbow cardigan. Wanted something that smelled like you, so I didn’t feel so alone. Was the first thing I put on when I got out of my hospital gown.”

She felt his body rumble with laughter and a kiss being pressed to her forehead. “I know. Saw Anna stash it inside the suitcase. I uh, I was the one who also put in one of my sweaters. Know how cold you always get.”

She hid her smile against his collarbones. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”

“ 'M always thinking of you… Will you knit me one though?”

Y/N raised her eyebrow. “Knit you one?”

“Yes. I know you knit –“

“Everyone knits nowadays.”

Harry drew himself back a bit, and she pushed away the matted down strands from his forehead, wiping away the sweat from underneath his green eyes as well. “Yes, but the point is – there’ll be a million other Gucci shirts and sweaters and cardigans. But I’d like to have one-of-a-kind made by you. So, I have something to sleep next to when you’re not next to me.”

Y/N ran a finger along his jawline, biting away her grin. “It’ll probably have mistakes. I’m not that good at it. ‘M not a professional.”

“Exactly.” Harry tilted her head up with a finger and their eyes met. “Which is why it’ll be perfect.”

“The arms will most likely be different lengths in the end.”

“Don’t worry, darling.” He pecked her lips before hugging her and not letting go. “It’s flawless for me.”

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A/N: My tags are always open :)

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sergiovinazzi · 3 years ago

Text

Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Three)

3.9k words - Rated M (language)

Here it is, my most favourite chapter to date, I hope you enjoy!

You smooth the skirt of your soft, black-linen sundress with shaky hands and pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re regretting not packing anything warmer than the denim jacket currently wrapped around your shoulders when you’re interrupted by the disgruntled sounds of your father calling your name through the phone speaker.

“What?” you ask, exasperated. “Sorry, I got distracted for a second.”

He repeats himself in annoyance, “I said, are you okay with staying at the hotel and ordering dinner for yourself?”

Staring at the restaurant in front of you, you debate whether or not to explain your situation to him. You realise, however, that he probably has enough to worry about after today’s events at Silverstone, and his daughter being out to dinner with another team’s driver probably won’t go over well.

“Yeah,” you lie. “I could use a quiet night in. Will you grab something to eat for yourself on your way back?”

Your dad hums, and you can tell that once he heard the confirmation that he didn’t need to get dinner for you, he lost interest in anything you had to say after the fact. It’s not difficult for you to understand why. Still, the lack of a verbal response worries you and you find it hard to evade the thoughts about Max and the accident. To most, the fact that he got out of the car and could walk was a good sign, but you’re still plagued by the various possibilities of what the hospital tests will conclude and just how bad the damage really is.

“Will you let me know if he’s okay?” you ask quietly, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing the phone closer to your ear, as if you could hone in on the doctor’s discussions in the background to find out whether Max was going to be alright.

Your dad simply hums again. “I’ll text you when we know more, but I’ve gotta go. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, dad,” you murmur.

His quick Bye, love you is rapidly replaced with the end-of-call dial tone.

You slip the phone into your jacket pocket and take a deep breath, preparing to head inside the restaurant. You couldn’t help but clock the bright orange McLaren already stationed in the parking lot when your Uber arrived. You recognised it from a picture in the article you read when you first learned of Lando’s incident at Wembley. You’re thankful for the sign that he’s already here and you dredge up the remaining ounces of fake confidence left in your body, making an effort to quickly smooth down your hair before you open the door and enter the restaurant.

You’re immediately overwhelmed by the sheer atmosphere of elegance. Hand-painted horizons adorn the walls, encapsulated by swirling silver frames and accentuated by the small lights stationed above each piece of artwork, their job for the night to highlight the colours and shading the artist undoubtedly spent hours perfecting.

The savoury scents of garlic and soy originate in the kitchen and permeate across the premises with ease, challenged only by the rousing aroma of the stunning frangipanis adorning the entrance.

A woman you guess to be around your age approaches you with a notepad and pen in hand. She’s dressed in a black bodycon skirt with a hem that scrapes the top of her knees; her matching coloured button up shirt is tucked in smoothly. “Hi,” she greets with a small smile, “Would you like me to show you to the bar?”

“Oh, I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone here,” you tell her, eyes scanning the room for Lando.

You see him before he sees you.

He’s tucked away at a table in the corner, his brown curls peaking over the top of the large menu he's studying.

“Found him, thanks,” you tell the waitress and she returns to her station as you make your way across the restaurant towards Lando.

He looks up from the menu as your figure appears in his peripherals and he shoots you a wave when you’re a few metres away. You return his gesture with a small laugh and he stands, walking to the front of the table to greet you.

“Hey,” he says, enveloping you in a one-armed hug. “Glad you could make it.”

“Me too. I hope you weren’t waiting long,” you tell him, noticing the almost empty glass of beer in front of him as he returns to his seat.

“It wasn’t too long, don’t worry,” he reassures you.

The reality of the situation fails to present itself to you until you and Lando are seated silently across from one another. Your stomach is tightly wound with nerves but Lando appears just as anxious, noticeably fidgeting in his seat and frequently straightening his knife and fork. He’s dressed rather sharp compared to what you’d been treated to in the past, the blue and orange race suit discarded for a crisp white button down and black dress shorts. You wonder whether the outfit you picked out is suitable for tonight, although you cut yourself some slack. When you’d packed your suitcase on Wednesday, you’d hardly expected to spend any time outside of the Red Bull garage or your hotel room, let alone situated in a restaurant that was, now very obviously, out of your price range. The thought causes you to send a silent prayer to whoever would listen that you had enough in your spending account to pay your half of the final bill tonight.

The woman who greeted you earlier approaches the table to ask what drinks the two of you would like to order.

Lando asks for a cola and you look at him in confusion.

“You’re not going to have another one?” you ask him as he hands over his empty beer glass.

“No, I’m not a big drinker,” he replies, “Especially not during the season.”

“So why did you invite me to have drinks then?” you ask, clearly amused. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Lando Norris?”

He laughs, and raises his hands in mock surrender, “Hey! No, nothing like that. I just don’t really drink, I never have.”

“Yeah I kinda noticed that actually,” you tell him. “Even on your podiums you don’t drink the champagne.”

“I thought you didn’t watch Formula 1?”

You wish you could wipe the stupid smirk off of his face as you practically watch the realisation form in his head. “Have you been watching my old races?”

“No,” you retort somewhat unconvincingly. “I found some highlights on YouTube though, and your podiums from Spielberg and Imola were on there.”

“My podium finish in Monaco is pretty good too. I’d be happy to show it to you sometime, though, it’s a shame that you find racing so boring.”

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Shut up.”

The warm glow emitting from the industrial-style bulbs resting overhead doesn’t help the blush settling on your cheeks, and neither does the grin Lando shoots you. You shrug off your jacket and place it carefully on the back of your seat just as the waitress arrives with your freshly poured Caiproska. You thank her and trace your fingers along the cool side of the glass, collecting the droplets of condensation that form in hopes that they’ll provide some sort of relief from your keen fever.

Lando’s gaze is strong enough that you feel him watching you without having to look across at him, it transcends the need for observed confirmation and instead sets your body alight merely at the thought of it. The thrum of your heart threatens to escape the confines of your chest and you stupidly pray that he doesn’t hear it as the exposed skin of your chest flushes scarlet against the dark neckline of your dress. You clasp the charm that sits at your throat, pinching it between your fingers and allowing yourself to bask in the minimal relief the cold metal provides against your warm skin.

Lando wipes his sweaty palms on his shorts and takes a deep breath. “So, that was a pretty crazy race today, huh? I didn’t think I’d be able to hold onto fourth place, not with another Ferrari behind me and Daniel.”

“Yeah, it was crazy,” is all you can reply before delving back into your pocket at what you think is the sound of your phone receiving a message.

God, he thinks, he’s boring you half to death. He finally has you all to himself and the only topic he can string more than a few words together for is his job, treating you like a reporter he’s obligated to unpack his strategy for in the paddock. He doesn’t understand why he’s so fucking nervous tonight, he wasn’t nearly this wound up when he’d asked you out. Sure, it was an effort to keep his hands from shaking as he locked his car and crossed the parking lot, but he convinced himself it was just the gentle breeze passing through the city that set his flesh alight with goosebumps. He was simply excited, more than anything, to spend some one-on-one time with someone his own age, and if that someone happened to be a pretty girl, who could blame him for looking forward to it?

But then you showed up in that dress and suddenly the possibility that he’d see you out of it by the end of the night if he played his cards right became more and more realistic. His head spins at the thought of taking you home tonight. And the next night. And suddenly the thought is replaced by the images of himself coming home to you every night. After months overseas with nothing but timezone-dependent calls he returns to the comfort of your embrace, it’s your fingers that gently scrape the back of his neck as a confirmation that he’s home. It’s the warmth of your body and the lilt of no one else’s voice that cures the cavity in his chest that enveloped him the moment he shut the apartment door behind him all those weeks ago. He sees you seated on his kitchen counter, legs swinging as the coffee brews each morning, and asleep on his couch every night even after you’d promised if he let you pick the movie you’d stay awake this time.

He knows he’s in way over his head. He only just met you, what, three days ago? Yet here he sits, wishing there was some magic rule book that could explain how he could make sure his time with you never ends. He wishes he’d met you long before this week –honestly, it feels like he’s known you for much longer–so that the heat that rises underneath his shirt and the lump in his throat doesn't lend itself to the idea that he’s just some lust-fuelled boy. Your text messages make him laugh like no one else’s have before and the thought that you were watching him this afternoon, after you weren’t initially planning to stay for the race, had him feeling more confident than he has all season.

He knows he can’t tell you all that, it’s way too soon and you’ll think he’s crazy. He has to think of something interesting to talk to you about to fill the minutes before he feels it appropriate to ask you out for a second time, but instead he sits in silence as you refuse to meet his gaze. Your eyes won’t stop lingering on your phone screen, or darting around the restaurant, undoubtedly searching for distractions. Signs on the wall you could read to pass the time until the check comes, or maybe you’re searching for a saviour, a bartender to lock eyes with who’ll answer your silent plea: get me the hell out of here. He’s caught off guard when your eyes make their way back to him, his heart skips a singular beat like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He’s preparing himself to appear nonchalant in response to the immaculately crafted excuse you’re undoubtedly about to deliver in order to explain your sudden escape from his company, when a small smile forms on your lips instead.

He smiles back.

“Sorry,” he explains. “I know I talk a lot about racing. It’s kind of my whole life at the moment so it’s easy for me to get carried away.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m kind of used to it anyway. It’s basically all we talk about at the dinner table when my dad’s home.”

“Well, what do you like to talk about? I saw on your Instagram that you’re studying advertising, tell me something about that.”

You smile at his consideration and tell him all about your degree. How you’ve always had an interest in design and noticed how it could be used to turn a profit, right from when you would try your hand at creating the posters for your school’s bake sales and car washes. You tell him the story of your first paid commission for a digital advertisement, an intricately crafted Instagram post for an up-and-coming clothing boutique based in London. He asks questions in all the right places and offers his congratulations when you show him screenshots of some of your most successful work.

Conversation ebbs and flows easily throughout the night, the nerves that had you second guessing your decision to come earlier tonight eradicated. The food is tremendous, and your company even better. Your waitress returns with the final bill for the night and Lando hands his card over without hesitation.

“Hey, no,” you say. “Let me pay for my half.”

“Don��t worry about it,” he tells you. “This was my way of repaying you for bringing my watch back, remember?”

Oh. That’s all tonight was for. He felt obligated to spend money on you in return for the trouble you’d gone through to return his stolen timepiece to him.

“When I talked to the police they said they could get me the money back once the guy was caught,” you stress. “So, you don’t need to do that.”

He brushes your statement off with a wave of his hand and smiles when the waitress returns with his card and a receipt.

Your mind mistakes the reverberation of champagne flutes clinking together for the chime of your text tone and you instinctively reach into your purse, hoping to see the screen alight with good news. You’d settle for any news really, so long as it meant you would finally get a clear picture of what was going on, and you could stop embellishing the details of the worst case scenario you had designed in your head.

A 51G impact like the one you had witnessed today can do a lot of damage to the body, whether visible from the outside or not, and you hoped, more than anything, that the helmet and halo were enough to protect Max from anything more than a few minor scrapes and bruises.

You’re lost in a world of nightmarish outcomes until you remember where you are. Lando’s face is contorted in a concerned frown across from you.

“Everything alright?” he asks gently.

“Yeah, sorry, I thought I heard my phone go off but it must’ve been something else.”

“It’s getting pretty noisy in here, do you want to head outside?” he offers.

“Okay.”

———

In the slight summer breeze you observe the moonlight washing across Lando’s figure, illuminating his features softly and elucidating the closeness of his face to yours. The proximity allows you to easily breathe in the pleasant cedarwood undertones of the cologne that adorns his skin, and allows him to imagine the sweet ropy flavour undoubtedly lingering on your tongue from the maraschino cherries you’d so delicately placed between your teeth throughout night.

The crinkles that form at the edges of his eyes as he meets your gaze with a smile are priceless. You wish you could bottle the feeling they give you and save it for a day you need it most.

“I had a nice time,” he tells you, practically beaming. “I can’t remember the last time I went out after a race and talked about stuff other than racing.”

“Yeah it was nice, dinner was really good too.”

“Yeah.”

The two of you stand in silence while you wait for your Uber to arrive. Lando had insisted on driving you back to your hotel but you knew his car would cause a fuss so you declined and told him you had an Uber discount code that was due to expire. You make an effort to seem fascinated by the cracks in the sidewalk and Lando acts intrigued by the streetlights, both of you dancing around the question that lingers unspoken in the air.

Are we going to meet up again?

The alert on your phone informs you that your driver is only a minute away.

“He’s almost here,” you tell Lando. “Thank you so much for paying for dinner, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay!” he insists. He shifts his weight on his feet before offering his arms to you.

You accept his invitation and hug him goodbye. You can’t help but notice the heat radiating through his thin shirt and feel his heart hammering between your two chests. His fingertips burn brands into your skin as they rest softly on your back and when he pulls back from you his hands don’t move an inch.

You catch his gaze and feel his thumb sweep softly over the fabric of your dress, underneath your jacket, before his lips meet yours in a searing kiss.

You’re caught off guard to say the least. His hands are hot on your back but his lips are soft and you’d be lying if you said they weren’t sending your head into a frenzy.

The rest of the day’s events are temporarily overruled by Lando kissing you; lying to your dad about where you are, wishing you could celebrate Lando’s fourth place finish with him in his garage, the repetitive questions aimed at you by the police that had you exhausted by mid morning, let alone Max’s accident.

Max.

And suddenly it’s not Lando’s but another pair of lips that are on yours, larger and hungrier and they come with a devastating reminder of what it’s like to sneak around with a Formula 1 driver. The lying and heartache that you remember all too clearly to feel like the kind of falling that jolts you awake from dreams.

You pull back and place your hands on Lando’s shoulders, staring down.

He’s instantly apologetic, bringing a hand through the front of his hair. “Sorry, I thought…fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, removing your hands and wrapping them around yourself. “It’s okay, um my car’s here anyway so I gotta go.”

He just nods and shoves his hands into his pockets.

The slamming of the car door feels like a hammer pounding in Lando’s head. For a moment he had you. In his hand was the opportunity to make something great out of your meeting, but he wrapped his fingers inward and crushed it in an instant.

———

When you wake the next morning, your head remains sore from the screeching of car engines throughout your eventful weekend. Though not particularly unbearable at the time, the accumulation of noise over the three days you were at the track had definitely built up.

Instinctively, you check your phone, assuming that you would be confronted with your typical notifications: a recommended Instagram account, a liked Tweet, maybe even a text. You know you’re being optimistic to expect anything from Lando, your mind refusing to stop reminding you of how awkward you had made your time together the night before. Still, you yearn for any sort of reassurement that it wasn’t as bad as your overthinking had made it out to be.

You read the time and see that it’s almost noon. You know that your dad will be out until around two o’clock, already fussing about with work related ordeals in order to have things perfect for the race in Hungary. When you eventually awaken enough to read the notifications on your phone, you find it difficult to hide your surprise as you find a text and missed call from Lando, the nervous feeling that you endured last night returns, sinking into your stomach like a stone.

Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I had a really nice time last night :) Sorry if I was too forward at the end, I hope it didn’t ruin your night or anything.

Biting back a smile as you read the text, your mind is put at ease as you realise that he enjoyed himself as much as you did. You’re tempted to text him back immediately and tell him that he’s being silly, that of course he didn’t ruin your night. You wish you could explain your situation with Max and how, if it were any other night than the one your ex-boyfriend spent in hospital, you would have kissed Lando back. However, your plan to reply is thwarted as you notice the notification that informs you Lando also left you a voicemail. He must have called some time after sending his initial text message. Finger hovering over the play button, you are hopeful that it’s further kind words about your time together, or perhaps an invitation for a second ‘date’. If you could call it that. Nevertheless, you push the button.

The disappointed sigh he lets out causes your heart to stutter, before his voice crackles through the phone speaker.

“Hey, it’s me. Sorry for calling, I know I already texted you and um… I hate that I have to do this but I think it would be better for you to hear it from me instead of finding out online or something. I’ve just seen that someone got pictures of us together last night. I didn’t think anyone who knew me would be there but I guess it was still close enough to Silverstone that someone recognised who I was. I’m really sorry, but if it is any help I don’t think anyone recognised you because your face isn’t really in the photos. I’m trying to get them taken down and it’s not really on Instagram or in the news or anything, but lots of people on Twitter are talking about it. If there’s anything that I can do, please let me know. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen at his words, breath hitching in your throat as you process it. You replay the message over and over, as if hearing it multiple times will change the bad news Lando delivers each time. Instinctually, you close the app and scrub your hands over your face. You wonder about what exact kind of picture the photos he’s referring to imply. Does it paint a picture that could get you in trouble?

What about Lando?

Fuck.

What about your dad?

Your stomach drops at the thought of him seeing them. Getting caught lying about your whereabouts was one thing, but being caught with Lando Norris while you promised you were tucked up in the confines of your hotel room opens up a whole new world of possible consequences.

As if the universe can read your mind, it delivers your worst nightmare to you on a silver platter, piping hot and laced with venom.

A notification appears from your dad.

Call me when you’re awake.

-------

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