#Sorry. I got 5 hours of sleep last night and have been awake for 15 hours | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jawllines · 4 years ago

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He’s too far in thought, he realizes, when Ellie comes and waves her hand in his face, “Are you okay?” She asks quietly, eyes wide as saucers, “Maisey said you look like her aunt when she zones out and she’s depressed.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, one that expels the air from his lungs as he nods, “Yes, Ellie, I’m okay. What’ve you painted, hm? Can I see it?” She grins, her cheeks pudgy and rosy as she runs back to her seat and picks up the canvas she’d been working on. It’s a sun and a moon, both with rather cryptic looking faces on them, and Harry had never so perfectly had to manage his poker face, “Whoa!”

“I think that might just be the coolest thing I’ve seen in my entire life,” Y/N appears behind him, Oliver more or less clung to her pant leg as she’s reaching over his body to set a box of juice down on the oak table for him to disperse among his campers, while holding her hand out for the canvas, “May I see it, Miss. Ellie Bellie?”

Ellie smiles shyly at her — she always got so shy around Y/N, but never in the way where you would think she’s nervous. No, she gets shy the way you might when meeting an older sibling’s friend and wanting to desperately try to impress them. Harry knew as much, considering he would attempt to perform for each and every single one of his sister’s friends growing up (and each time, Gemma would make a few colorful threats to deter him). No matter how quiet Ellie gets with her though, she’s always the first to ask if they got to play with Y/N that day.

Harry still doesn’t like the other camp counsellors but Y/N’s an exception

part 1

(tw: mentions of suicide)

ii.

Psst.

Harry was typically a heavy sleeper. When he was younger his mum used to joke that he could sleep through an earthquake-induced tsunami if someone allowed him to. An alarm would have to be pretty loud to stir him from his slumber, and unless he was on edge, a mere call of his name would not drag him from whatever dreamland he’d submerged himself within.

Psst.

There had only been two things before that could notably wake him. His mum, who was the sweetest person on this planet yet managed to be the cruelest being on earth when he needed to be up for something, and his childhood cat Molly, who sits on his chest and makes it hard to breathe (which, from what he’s learned, encourages his brain to panic and wake him up so he could fix it). Other than that, he was blissfully unaware of the world for hours at a time.

Yet, there was something stirring him now. A low sound that puzzles him as he toes the line between consciousness and his dreams, aware of the blankets that cover him but still dancing on a stage with his limbs thrashing wildly and people shouting his name.

Psst.

Was it an insect? Maybe he was performing outside then -- a crowd of thousands in an outdoor field to see him for... .what was it that he did again?

Psst.

Oh, he’s dreaming, isn’t he? How deep in his dream is he? He thinks this is the first time he’s ever been asleep and realized that he was asleep...he could probably conjure something up, right? Manifest something that he’s always wanted, try his hand in lucid dreaming. If only he could focus apart from the insect zipping past his eardrum.

Harry, please wake up, we’re being haunted -- or murdered, or something.

Harry’s eyelids flutter like swallowtail wings, his gaze blurry and unfocused as he comes to. He’s confused, piecing together the puzzle that always presents to him when he’s just woken up and has to readjust to the world around him. The whole process of it took nothing more than 10 seconds, maybe 15 if he’s really out of it, but that’s only because thoughts run through his mind at a hundred miles a minute.

What time is it? The room around him his pitch-black apart from a very small amount of light illuminating beneath the curtain covering the window he’s beneath, so it couldn’t be morning. Potentially early morning, but he would say that would be 3-4 AM. Did he need to be up? He didn’t think so, actually, because there’s no alarm buzzing him awake and as far as he’s concerned, he hadn’t signed up for any early morning shifts at the bookstore as of late. The last time he went in at 5 to open up shop while the owner was on vacation and Harry was more or less ran down by a mother raccoon when he’d stumbled upon her babies after getting out of his car -- Harry had been reluctant to go before sunrise since.

Where was he? He knows he’s not at home, that’s for sure. The sheets smell like him but not him enough to be at his own place -- and the bedding isn’t as soft either. He knows he hasn’t passed out at someone’s house because he only does that if the person is close enough to him that he would recognize their scent, or if he was too drunk to get home, but that was usually accompanied by a wicked headache and a sour stomach. No, where he was smelled like wood and generic fabric softener. There was an air conditioning unit that rattled and rumbled from where it was fixed to the wall, he felt a tension in his neck that he only experienced at one place and, yeah, he was at the camp.

He was at camp, in a cabin with Y/N, who slept with the lamp on because she hated the dark, was the owner of the voice that had woken him up in the inky black room.

“Hm?” He hums, brows pinching as he lets his eyes shut again, only to open them a few seconds later, “Wha’s wrong? Why is your light off?”

“I don’t know,” her voice is still just a bit over a whisper, and Harry wonders why she doesn’t just speak up now that she knows he’s awake, “I woke up a little bit ago and thought maybe there was a storm that knocked the power out or something, but I checked the weather and it’s been clear skies all night. I think our power line was cut which is like -- straight out of a horror film.”

Harry sighs, a bit of him regretting the number of horror movies they’ve been watching once they finally got to watch Midsommar (in three days, they’d sifted through six different movies -- two movies a night and each one managed to horrify Y/N more than the last). He begins to press himself from the bed, his eyes adjusting to the dark around them, making out slivers of shadows, “I’ll go check --”

“No! Are you crazy?” He hears her bed frameshift with her as she moves, “That’s just asking for a maniac to come for us. Plus I keep hearing noises and I can’t tell if it’s like...like little raccoon feet or a one-armed hook man.”

“Alright, then go back to bed.” Harry begins to lower back down to the mattress but a sharp whine leaves her throat, “It’s dark when you close your eyes.” It’s silent for a moment, but then Harry feels a bead of guilt dribble through his body. He sighs, reaching up and wiping his hand down his face, “What do you want to do, yeah? If you don’t want me to go out there. Do you want to stay up?”

She’s quiet, Harry is straying further and further from the state he would’ve been in to fall right back into his dreams but he tries to wipe away the irritation the best he could. What he reminds himself is that four days prior, Y/N had trekked out in the forest toward a lake despite her unremitting distaste for the woods in the dark and slapped Jack clean across the face because he was being rude to him. And he was going to ignore her? Fall asleep while she’s frightened? Harry could be a prick, but he wasn’t the bleeding antichrist.

“I...um, well, I don’t want us to stay up, no, we’ll be so cranky tomorrow,” she shuffles in the sheets, “I dunno’, I’m sorry, you can go back to bed, I’ll be okay.”

Harry isn’t sure what to do but in his half-awake state, the next few words that leave his mouth seem like just the temporary fix necessary for them to get the last few hours of sleep that they can, “Do you want me to read you a story or summat?”

She giggles quietly, “No, it’s okay, really, go back to sleep, okay?”

What Harry could have said was I can’t now, knowing that you’re awake and scared, but instead he utters a simple, “No.” He sits back up, patting blindly for his phone in his sheets, slipping his fingers around it, and tapping it awake. His screen blinds him with its brightness, so he lowers it before finding the flashlight. It lights up the floor at his feet and subsequently at its edges, he can make out Y/N’s shadowy figure. She’s sat up, curled in her blanket, wrapped around her head, and giving her a pseudo-nun appearance. She waves at him lamely and he struggles not to roll his eyes, “Maniac be damned, I’m gonna go out there and look for the breaker. Maybe the arseholes broke their vow of integrity.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Jack or one of the others came around and switched the breaker off, just to be inconvenient for the morning. They’d left them alone for four days sure, but Harry figures that it’s not so much four days of silent reflection and questioning why they feel the need to be such pricks to him, and more so four days for their anger to fester and brew. If not for the fact that Y/N slapped him then made him find laundry detergent and commanded the others to go get his clothes, then for the way she acted like nothing had happened the day prior. Jack’s cheek was still a stingy, red splotch, Oliver and Brandon were straight-faced looking irritated, and Y/N -- well, Y/N had never been more content with her day. She was having a blast with her kids playing bean bag toss, they did their little dance when one of them got it in the hole of the board, and when they were all getting drinks, Y/N offered to grab Harry his. He watched as she went to the cooler around the same time Jack did, they both reached for the last Dr. Pepper, and Y/N plucked it up and handed it to him before grabbing both her, Harry, and Mitch’s lemonades.

He thinks it’s the sincerity that she holds, that would aggravate him had he been in their shoes. Y/N was completely unbothered by the night prior and Harry could tell, just like when he doesn’t reciprocate their maleficent tendencies towards them -- it was digging under their skin.

(She makes Harry laugh when she comes back with their lemonades, handing him one and uttering, “I let the prick have the last Dr. Pepper, and I’m regretting it.”)

And while he’s hoping that they haven’t turned their target to her out of spite, he wouldn’t change what had happened for the world. It had made the two of them that much closer, and in the following day’s Harry had poked and prodded Y/N’s brain a bit more. Especially after what he’d seen on her page, he was intrigued by her. Intrigued by how she saw life, why she came at things the way she did, what built her up to be the person that she was in these very moments that he’s speaking to her. Harry hasn’t asked her about her old college roommate and he doesn’t plan on it either -- he doesn’t feel like he could, or he should.

Harry has lost people before and he thinks the worst thing someone could do was to bring it up unprompted. He knows that it’s probably always on her mind but even then, maybe it isn’t at the forefront of it. Maybe she’s just trying to have a good few weeks, separate herself from the real world for a while, and he would be cruel to dig up something that she may not be ready to just up and chat about. No matter how curious he is about the whole situation, and no matter how much he wonders if she treats him the way she does because of what happened. If the topic was brought up by her he would openly and freely discuss it as long as she was comfortable, but he wouldn’t give her the third degree.

So he minds his business and focuses on trying to get to know her better instead.

He can’t say that it doesn’t change how he treats her a bit though. Harry is much. . .gentler, than he had been. He tries to be less critical of her unwavering optimism and seeks to understand where it was coming from instead. If he’s in the right mood he’ll attempt to match it, which makes for a good day with their groups, who he finds -- despite the small age gap -- have begun to kindle very close friendships. Mrs. Graham had even commented on it one of the days after they had a riveting game of balloon tennis.

“You two make a good team -- putting all these other counselors to shame. And to think you were pouty about having to share a cabin.”

It was true, they did make a good team. Harry thinks that them sparking a friendship had made the whole experience much more enjoyable for everyone involved.

All of this together gives insight into why Harry is willing to stuff on his shoes at 3 AM and go out in the dark, muggy night to check and potentially fix a breaker. And no matter the number of times he assures her she does not have to come out there with him, she keeps hold of her ‘no man left behind’ mentality, pulls on a pair of flip flops, and pads out after him.

Had they been in any other cabin, finding the breaker would have been much easier. They’re typically on the backside in the upper right corner, surrounded by a little cage with a lock similar to that of an animal crate. The struggle with their cabin was that the backside was basically in the woods, so he had to dodge low hanging branches and tangles of ivy to get even remotely near it. He hands Y/N his phone and she shines the light over the metal box, her hand steady despite how she looks back and forth and all around them like she’s making sure there are no red eyes glowing at them. The world around them is silent apart from the chirp and groan of insects, the scutter of an animal somewhere in the far distance makes Y/N huff a weary sigh but otherwise, nothing comes out to attack them. Harry restarts the breaker, they go back inside, and the lamp on its dimmest setting is switched on how they had fallen asleep with it.

They both breath out in relief, Y/N dives back into her bed and Harry flops down atop of his covers, giving himself a second to feel the cool air from the conditioner fan over him.

“Theoretically,” Y/N begins as Harry lets his eyes fall shut, “If there were some creature in the forest --”

“There’s no creature in the forest.”

“I know, but theoretically --” She continues again, but Harry is quick to cut her off once more.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he tells her, “Go to sleep.”

Once more, Y/N falls silent, but a quiet, “Thank you,” was the only thing to leave her mouth.

. . .

A summer thunderstorm wasn’t abnormal during camp, which is why the recreation center and the art building are beneficial. It keeps everyone preoccupied and entertained with well-insulated walls to mute whatever carnage is taking place outside, which makes for less frightened children and an easier time for everyone involved. Harry liked being active and running around with his campers, sure, but he also really enjoyed a nice, calm, relaxing day trying his hand at DIY projects and abstract paintings. Plus it gave him the chance to wear the camp hoodie that he had spent a pretty penny purchasing, which was made of the softest fabric he’s ever felt and was far more comfortable than the t-shirts that they normally wear.

Y/N had also bought the hoodie, Harry saw as she stepped out in it after her shower this morning, and she seemed to be drowning in it but in the best way. The fabric pools off of her, but she looks cozy, and well-rested despite them waking in the middle of the night. He thinks she looks pretty cute, but he kept the thought to himself and instead asked her if she wanted his extra granola bar for breakfast.

They alternate throughout the day, between the rec center and art building, and on the schedule, it appears that most the day he would be with Y/N’s group (which he prefers) and a few times he’s even with Mitch as well, which is nice. Mitch doesn’t grow to like many people, but he liked Y/N well enough -- he thought she was oddly entertaining (or so he’s told, Harry) and good for a chat. The only times he and Y/N were not with each other were when the activities were age-specific, but even then, it wasn’t like anyone was in a different room. They were all just at different stations within a big room in the art building and the recreation center was more or less free for all.

Harry wondered when he started basing whether or not a day was going to be good by whether or not he and Y/N were able to be around each other, but he decided not to think about it too much. Lately, he’d been a little more on edge with whether they were together, simply because of Jack and the others. He didn’t want them fucking with her, and even though she’d proven that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, he still worried, especially knowing he would be the cause of it.

Y/N doesn’t seem the least bit distressed about it, or as far as she was letting on -- she’d not expressed any thoughts or concerns that they would be spiteful towards her. Hell, the only thing she had told him the night after was that she hoped she didn’t make things worse for him. For him. Why was she so willing to defend him? What did she get out of being so kind?

“I especially like how multidimensional it is — purple and pink stars? Beautiful, I love those two colors together,” she places her hand on Oliver’s head, and it’s then that Harry notices he’s holding something, “Harry, Oliver here wanted you to see the flower he drew because I told him how much you like lilies.” As bashful as he always is, he holds out the paper toward Harry. It was cute — a singular, yellow lily and he could tell that Y/N helped him draw it, but the paint and crayon marks all over the page suggested she left the color duties up to him.

“Oh my goodness,” Harry gasps, looking at the painting, flipping it to Oliver and pointing at it, “You did this?” Oliver nodded excitedly, “It’s gorgeous.”

“I think our groups are the best artists,” Y/N motions to her table, only a meter away from them all working diligently on their projects, “Charlotte is over there doing an artistic interpretation of the both of us, we are not allowed to see it until she’s finished. Mikey is doing his own rendition of Disney world, I see Maisey is creating a beautiful tree -- Noah is that a cowboy you’re drawing?”

Noah barely looks up from his paper, very carefully dragging the tip of the marker in a circle, “Yes.”

“And Noah is drawing a cowboy! Modern-day Van Gogh’s, all of them.” Harry smiles as Y/N drags a stool up beside him, positioning it in a way so that she could watch both her kids and speak with him, “I heard they’re having one of them party things tonight, I didn’t know if you wanted to go or not.”

“Hm, I dunno,” his brows knit together as he lightly scratches a mosquito bite on the inside of his forearm, “Do you feel comfortable with going after what happened last time?”

She suckles her bottom lip into her mouth, gnawing on it as she nods her head, “Mhm,” she looks around them for a second, making sure that none of the kids are paying attention to them before she lowers her voice, “Mitch said that you used to go to all of them last year, and would like -- have a good time. I hope that I’m not ruining that for you.”

“How would you be ruining it for me?” It’s true, Harry hasn’t gone to any of the parties that they’ve been doing since the very first one he’d escorted Y/N away from. Not for any other reason apart from he was just spending time and hanging out with Y/N, or he’d be too knackered to even think about leaving the nice, cool setting of their cabin to be in the muggy heat with drunk college students. He had much more fun not attending, and other nights Mitch would come around and chill with them too. . .he had all he needed then. Didn’t need the booze for a good time.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t know if you weren’t going ‘cos of what happened the first time and you felt like you couldn’t leave me out or. . or something like that.”

Harry shook his head, “No,” he answers, “We can go tonight if you would like, but it’s unnecessary for me. I’m good either way.”

Although Y/N appears unconvinced, they have little time to go further into the topic because Charlotte is running up to them, a big grin on her face, “I finished!”

“Well give it here,” Harry holds out his hand, waving her over, “Let’s see it.”

On the paper are stick figure versions of he and Y/N, with big grins and 12 other little stick figures surrounding them. Above Harry’s stick figure, there’s a pink arrow and a very five-year-old esque writing of HUSBAD (Harry presumes it’s supposed to be husband), and above Y/N’s in the same fashion, she’s written WYFE. It’s then Harry realizes that Y/N’s figure has a veil on and Harry’s has a bowtie, “This is for you twos wedding! So thens when they take pictures you can has this one.” Charlotte chirps brightly and Y/N and Harry both cast each other a disbelieving glance.

“Whoaaaaa,” Y/N is the first to break their silence, a smile pulling at her lips, “This is really good Charlotte! I didn’t know Harry and I were getting married, though.”

Charlotte nods quickly, still grinning at them, her bottom canine missing as she gleams, “Me n’ Mikey thinks you should!”

Y/N turns toward him, nodding toward Charlotte, “Well, the god’s have spoken. Where’s my ring?”

Harry coughs on a laugh as he hands the paper back to Charlotte, “This is really good, Bug. Why don’t you and Oliver go help Josie finish her coloring pages, hm?”

The both of them head the short way back to their table, hiking up on the small stools and Harry makes sure they’re all settled before he turned back to face Y/N, who was biting down on a grin, “Don’t start --” he began but she’s already started, shaking her head.

“Listen, it’s okay to be in love with me, but you should really try to tone it down. . .the kids are starting to notice.”

Harry scoffs before he proceeds to tease her,, “How d’ya know they aren’t basing it off your actions, huh? Giving me love eyes every couple minutes like nobody would see.”

Y/N mocks offense to his words and he tries to keep up the facade, but his sheer delight for getting in a teasing match with her overcomes him and he can’t help his smile. Harry loved teasing people -- loved making them flustered or reducing them to a bashful mess by his words alone. Y/N, however, was much less into flustered gazes and sheepish tendencies, and more so ready and willing to give him it right back. He’d met his match -- if he teases her she’s teasing right back (if she hadn’t started it in the first place), and both of them found mutual pleasure in it.

“You can’t use my love eyes against me, I can’t help but give them to everyone I’ve ever met” she tells him, feigning sincerity before an additional anecdote, “You know my college roomie always told me they’d get me in trouble one day, and she had never been more right, ‘cos they did once at a party. She wouldn’t shut up about it weeks after it’d happened.”

Harry feels his body tense just a bit at the mention of her, and he tries not to let it show on his face that he’s surprised how she so casually brought her up, “Yeah? What’s the story?”

“The little ears around us suggest that I tell that story later,” she checks her watch, before looking back up at him, “Oi, we’ve got five minutes until we’re in the rec center. You get to pick what we all do since I picked the last rotation.”

. . .

This time when they’re on their way to the party, Harry lets Y/N walk in front of him as he directs where she was to go. Opposed to when they had first made this journey together, Harry feels far more protective of her than he originally had. Plus, he’d seen how clumsy she could be and after the earlier storm, the softened dirt and broken off tree branches from the billows of wind made for a much harder terrain to navigate, so he felt more comfortable being able to reach out to catch her if need be.

Harry was wary of going to the party tonight but Y/N had been borderline insistent that they attend, “Mitch says he misses you at these things and Niall told me he could only stand Shaun theorizing about the universe and us not being the only life form so many times before he snaps. I say we’re needed.” Harry never minded free drinks, and a potential fuck at the end of the night, so he wasn’t all too worried that he would be having a good time. He just hoped that the others would allow Y/N to have a good time. And he knows he’s being paranoid, because they hadn’t necessarily targeted her for anything prior to or after the lake incident, but he still worries. . .he can’t help but worry.

But he wouldn’t hover. Once they got to the clearing, he helped Y/N get her drink and she sought off after Niall while Harry went over to Mitch, the two of them promising to meet up again in a little bit. He didn’t hover, but he did watch semi-closely, eyeballing Jack and the others, making sure they were staying away from her. Apart from a few less than friendly looks thrown in his direction though, they seemed to be keeping to themselves which Harry was ultimately very thankful for.

The night goes by as these nights usually do -- he and Mitch drank, had a laugh, gabbed about music for a while, some of the drama going on around the camp (Y/N had an ear for gossip and eyes that could make anyone tell her anything, so Harry’s had a door to all the melodramatic events happening throughout the counsellors). It was a bit weird when Stacey -- one of the counsellors he’d only ever briefly spoken to -- had come up to them, and a little weirder when she borderline propositioned him for something more than a chat in the woods, but Harry politely declined. Told her that he was pretty exhausted after a long day and was probably just going to have a few more beers and retreat back to his cabin.

He passes it off as a fluke. . .maybe he’d been making eyes at her and hadn’t realized it. But then Mia makes her way toward him and Mitch, and this time Harry’s brows furrow when she starts chatting him up. This one he entertains for a little while before eventually ebbs away from the conversation, because he and Mia had a fling once, but Jack convinced her and the free world that he was a prick, so she called it off. He didn’t necessarily understand why she would want to start that up again, or what “little birdie” put a bug in her ear that he still thought about her (as she said one did).

It was after Cara had finally left after coming around to chat with him, that Mitch began to chuckle lowly at his side, shaking his head slowly, “Jesus Christ,” he tilts the nozzle of his beer against his mouth, and when he pulls it away, his lips are shiny from the liquid, “She really is working hard.”

“Huh?” Harry feels desperate for an explanation as to why three times he felt as if he were being propositioned for a romp in the woods when he was not actively pursuing one. He had a feeling that it was the others trying to get him alone so they could enact some sort of piss poor attempt at fucking with him without Y/N spotting and tearing them a new one over it, “Are you in on something that I’m not, ‘cos m’feeling pretty fucking lost here, man.”

Mitch nods his head, and Harry follows his gaze to Y/N, who is speaking with her brows dipped inward to Cara, “A few days ago she’d been asking me and Niall what you were like last year, and we told her just the same, jus’ a lot more ‘fornication’ is how Niall put it,” he smirks softly with a shake of his head, “And she seemed all concerned, asking us if we thought she was holdin’ you back or something. Personally, I told her if you wanted to sleep with someone you would have whether she were around or not but she didn’t seem very convinced.” A snort leaves him as he motions towards her again, still as amused by her ideas as he had been when she’d first explained them, “Guess she’s trying to set you up.”

“Oh fuck me,” he exhales so forcefully, it whips the delicate plumes of smoke from Mitch’s cigarette into a misshapen huff. Why was she so concerned with it? Harry hadn’t once expressed any avidity in needing to spend time with someone in that manner -- he could go without sex for three weeks. . .did she not think he could? Was he exuding nymphomaniac tendencies? He surely hadn’t thought he was -- a few quick handies in his nightly showers typically tide him over just nicely for a bit of a dry spell. And what was her business that he hadn’t slept with anyone since they’ve gotten here? Why was she speaking about him with the others what she could as easily ask him? What she had as easily spoken with him about, albeit leaving out a pretty large portion of it.

For the first time since they had begun getting along, Harry was irritated with her. He’d never been one to brood, however. He liked things to be up front and honest as soon as possible if the situation allowed for it, to stop his mind from taking an idea and running away with it. He held little interest in playing mind games with people.

Which is why he hands Mitch the rest of his drink, fixes his heavy cardigan around his shoulder, and sets off in her direction. He dodges many bodies, avoids an empty cup on the ground beside what he could only presume to be a sticky puddle of liquor, and narrowly makes it past a playful fight between Oliver and Brandon who were wrestling one another. Y/N doesn’t realize that he’s making his way to her until he’s just a meter or so away, when Niall catches a glimpse of him and attempts to be inconspicuous in the way he pinches her side. She gasps from the way his nails had accidentally bit into her skin, flinching from the pain before her gaze had settled on him, “Harry!” She cheered but his face doesn’t soften as it usually does when they see one another, which alerts her to his disapproving gaze, “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“Can I speak with you for a moment?” He inquires, motioning out past the trees. Enough trust had been built into the foundation of their friendship for her to not question him. Instead, she passes her drink off to Niall and follows Harry into the woods -- he wouldn’t go so far that they wouldn’t be able to see one another from beneath the curtain of leaves shielding away the moon, but just far enough that nobody would be eavesdropping. In any other situation he might wait to bring this up until they’ve made it back to the cabin, but Y/N’s intentions had been clear that the person he was taking home tonight wasn't supposed to be her.

She pauses with him at a particularly thick tree trunk, and places the arch of her foot against one of the jagged roots that carved its way through the earth, “Is everything okay?” She balances herself with a hand against the bark, wincing when it jabs into her skin, “I was keeping an eye on Jack n’ them I thought so they wouldn’t try messing with you, but did they say something?”

That does melt him some, Harry was strong enough to admit that. Just as he had been concerned with her wellbeing, she was just as much concerned for him, and he appreciated that. And while it does threaten to soften him down to his core, he still had questions that needed answers, and he wouldn’t let up until she responded to them.

“Why are you sending girls over to me?”

Her brows raise, but less in shock of learning the information, and more so with wonder how he’d found out she was the one sending them their way. The surprise dissolves into embarrassment quickly, her shoulders slump and she casts her gaze deeper into the forest, “Dammit,” she doesn’t hide her disappointment from being caught, or even feign confusion to try and pass the blame off coincidence that every girl who had come up to him had subsequently talked to her prior, “I was hoping you would be less observant.”

“Y/N.” He says her name sternly, and her shoulders drop dramatically further as she steps down from the tree root.

“Listen, in my defense I just felt awful!” She admits, waving her hand toward the party, “Jack had tried telling me a few times about how you just fuck people and leave them, blah, blah, blah, right? And I wasn’t paying any attention to him, but it made me curious to what you were like last year, so I asked Mitch and Niall. You came to these things all the time and you had fun -- then I come ‘round, ruin the first one, and you’ve been hanging out with me since. I just. . . I wanted you to be able to have fun and not feel like you have to worry about me, y’know?”

A ‘v’ sits between Harry’s brows, “What is it your business what I’m doing, hm?” He fixes his cardigan from where it slumps off his shoulder once more, “If I wanted to sleep with someone then I would. Do you think I can’t set something up myself?”

“No, of course not, I just thought --”

“You didn’t think,” he cuts her off, and Y/N’s arms curl over herself instinctively when a cold brush of air rolls past them, “You should have just came to speak with me about it, I could have told you that I didn’t need anything like that, and that would have been that. Don’t go behind my back trying to orchestrate things for me, okay?”

He wanted to say it -- he needed to say it, because Harry wasn’t some sex driven lecher that everyone at this camp tried to make him out as. He thought Y/N had known that too, but he guesses he was wrong.

But he wasn’t expecting her to look so fucking defeated by it. A guilt weighs on his being when she nods, tipping her head down, “Okay, yes, I won’t anymore. I’m sorry,” her fingers dig into her bicep, as she breathes out, a shiver rattles through her that she tries to be inconspicuous about it, “I wasn’t thinking -- I wasn’t thinking how it would look.”

Harry sighs, peeling his cardigan off of his arms, revealing his bare arms to the chill but he ignores it in favor of holding it out to her, “Put this on,” he wiggles it some, “I know you’re cold.” She takes it from him carefully, looking up, brows raised slightly as if to ask if he’s sure, “Go ahead.”

“I really am sorry,” she tells him, pulling the patchwork cardigan over her arms, it hangs off of her, and Harry swallowed thickly. She’s. . .cute -- Harry had always been able to admit that. Her face is sweet, her eyes exudes nothing but understanding, kindness, and such a soft glow that Harry couldn’t quite explain. He finds that those eyes give him great comfort and warmth, because now when they’re tinged with the contrition she feels and Harry feels cold.

“I know,” he murmurs, he holds out his hand for her, and very carefully Y/N slides her hand into his own, “Do you want to go get pudding?”

A small smile pulls at her mouth.

“Yes please.”

. . .

Niall lets them use the key after a few dozen promises to be careful with it. They trek the familiar way, mindless chatter fills the air around them until they get to the cafeteria and their voices quiet in case the security guard is looping around. Y/N reveals her hand from the shield of his cardigan sleeve, Harry watches as the fabric pools around her arm, toward her elbow, and produces the key (that Niall only trusted her with). They creeped into the kitchen, pulled open the large refrigerator door, and the pudding sat in rows on the bottom shelf.

They both choose vanilla this time, having tired themselves out on chocolate, and they sit at the spot they had last time, across from one another. He can tell, despite his peace offering, that Y/N still feels upset about what had happened earlier and it sullies his mood. She’s still chatting but not with as much heart as she typically has, and Harry couldn’t stand it. He just wanted her to giggle as she teases him again, without feeling like she’s tip toeing on eggshells around him.

“Hey,” Harry starts, dragging her attention towards him where it had previously been scooping the sides of her pudding container, “Would you stop being so. . .tense? Is this about earlier?”

Y/N clears her throat, opening her mouth and furrowing her brows like she was about to deny it, but she relents, shoulders dropping, “A little. I still feel bad about everything,” she shakes her head, dragging the edge of the spoon around the plastic, “About everything, not just that you aren’t able to sleep with someone. I came in late, ruined you having your own cabin, woke you up with my alarm, made you get out of bed ‘cos I’m afraid of the dark and -- I just feel like this massive burden. I feel like this massive burden on everyone.”

Harry is alarmed by this sudden confession, but his body ultimately rejects the notion that she could ever be a bother, “How are you a burden to anyone?” He inquires, shaking his head, “You’re such a ball of light that just swarms through rooms. The thought of you being a burden is akin to the thought of Satan being a saint. . .it doesn’t sound right.” Harry sets his pudding down, though he keeps his hands fixed around the cup and the spoon, “Don’t know what gave you that idea, but the last thing you are is a burden. Who gave you the impression that you were?”

She wipes tiredly at her eyes, “Nobody in particular, it's just,” she shakes her head, “Even now, I wanted to make your night good, and then I fucked it, and now you’re here with me instead of having fun at the party. I just feel silly.”

“Don’t.” Harry tells her simply, “I like to spend time with you, and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

The tension in her shoulder releases, “Thank you for this, I’m sorry m’just saying the same thing again and again. Back at home it feels like everyone is just. . .so hyper aware of me -- they’re always being so careful, or overly concerned and I always wonder if it feels like a heavy weight on their shoulders, like I’m forcing a piggyback ride.” She shrugs her own, reaching for the second pudding cup, “It’s just shit, so I overthink everything all the time to try not to be a burden, but I keep making it worse. Or at least that’s how it feels.”

Harry tilts his head to the side some. He’s not usually someone who pries and probes people for information, but he’s never been more curious about Y/N than in this moment. When he thinks of Y/N at home, he thinks of sunshine pooling in the hallways through casement windows, her spinning around the kitchen in a dainty floral dress that billows around her as she stirs homemade jam. Harry imagines her amongst woodland creatures who coax her to the forest with songs, escorting her there as she gambols freely.

He could not imagine her going home and feeling like a burden. Hell, he would have thought that she considered everyone else a burden -- that maybe it was draining to be the absolute light of everyone’s life. Yet here she stood, seeming worn, and broken.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why is everyone hyper aware of you at home? You don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable.” He says it delicately -- he means it. . .if she didn’t want to share this with him, then he wouldn’t force her, but he wants to open up the possibility. He wants her to know that he’s an open ear if she so chose to utilize him.

“Um,” her gaze does shift downward -- she suddenly appears so small, “Are you sure?”

Harry nods.

“I just -- it's not that I don’t like bringing it up, I just don’t want you to treat me any differently than you would knowing it, yeah? I think that’s what I hate the most.” She notes, “So do you promise that you won’t -- you won’t start tiptoeing around me?”

“You’ve got my word.” Harry vows, but he has a feeling he knows what she is to say.

The sleeve of his cardigan covers her hand as she brushes the hair from her face, “In freshman year of UNI, my roommate was Mrs. Graham’s daughter, Penelope.” She straightens out in her seat, “We didn’t like each other much at first but we had grown very close -- um, once she threw away my fruit snacks and so I dunked her toothbrush in the toilet, but I felt guilty and went out to buy her a new toothbrush,” a laugh leaves her at the memory, as she rolls her eyes at herself, “That was what we had going for a while, but a late night heart to heart kind of made us closer. She told me things that. . .she’d been through a lot that nobody should have to go through, you know? She was bullied a lot growing up—in high school it was bad, people used to always gang up on her over stupid shit.” Harry hums, encouraging her to continue, and she stirs the pudding around mindlessly, “And we were just close after that. We had a flat together sophomore year and most of junior year, she’s my best friend,” she swallows thickly, “I didn’t realize how sad she was. . .I didn’t realize what she was still holding onto, and she -- we went home for Christmas break, and she never came back.”

Harry feels his stomach sour as her eyes bead with unshed tears, “Oh, Y/N,”

“It’s alright. I’m okay, I’m fine as I can be -- I’ve -- I’m mourning and I miss her, but I’m trying to be strong. Most days I am, but everyone at home just expects me to be this fragile thing, y’know? The days I’m happy, and chatty, they think I’m faking it. And some days I do, yeah, but. . .it’s just disheartening when everyone pretends to know what’s going on in my head.” She plants the pudding directly in the center, leaving it there and retreating her hands to her lap, “Mrs. Graham told me she felt the same. That’s why I came in last minute -- I’ve got all my volunteer hours settled and everything but she said it might be nice to get away.” A slow, easy sigh leaves her lips as she blinks the tears away, not one drop trickled down her cheek, “It is nice, but I still worry that I’m a strain on people around me, even if not for the reason I am at home. And I’m sorry to like, info dump all this on you,” she laughs a little in spite of herself, “You can’t ask me things, unless you want an hour long explanation.”

Harry reaches out his hand for her, for the second time that night, and once again she slowly slips their fingers together, “Thank you for sharing that with me, I know it must have been hard,” he squeezes her hand, “But I understand you a bit more now. I’ll keep my promise, I won’t treat you any differently, but before that --” she blinks at him, waiting, “I think you might just be one of the kindest, strongest, most caring people that I have ever meant. I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt me or add stress onto my life, so you don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to try with me. We can just exist together, yeah? We’ll exist without burdens and without worry.”

The look in her eyes, was one that Harry had never seen before. One that makes him melt in her touch.

“I would like that.”

. . .

“I can’t swim.”

Harry was crouched down to Maisey’s height, fixing purple mermaid floaties around her arms. The day was not unusually muggy, but there was an additional itch to jump belly first into the cool watered lake. He had woken with a revitalized need to pry a star from the morning sky as it shifted from an inky purple to an early, dusky morning blue -- and give it to Y/N. He had decided after their conversation last night -- after they’d gone to bed and Y/N fell asleep cuddled in his cardigan -- he had an overwhelming, and an all encompassing want to hold her.

Which made it hard to part ways this morning, but he managed. And maybe he played out an image in his head where he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek before they went to wake their respective cabins, or maybe he didn’t (but if he did that’s his own problem). He is quick to convince himself it was because she’d shared a piece of herself with him that he doesn’t think she lets many people see, and Harry always develops a bit of a platonic crush on his friends at some point or another. He questioned whether or not he was in love with Mitch for a solid four days once. . .sometimes he just let his heart get carried away.

He had been enmeshed in these thoughts as he got his campers ready for their time in the lake. At first glance, a ton of children in the lake seemed like a horrible, and faulty idea, but they took precautions so that everyone was safe. Every child wore floaties and/or life jackets no matter how proficient their swimming abilities. There was netting about ten meters out so that the children and counsellors couldn’t float out toward the middle, and they worked it so that only three children could be in per counsellor at a time, so that they could keep an eye on everyone. Harry wasn’t so nervous because he was a strong swimmer, and his kids were a little older, but he could tell Y/N had been a little jittery about it. It’s why Harry told her that while she was out in the lake with her little ones to let him know, he would come out with her to bring her some additional comfort that even the floaties could not provide.

Harry had been pretty sure all of his kids were excited to go to the lake and he was grateful for that, until he looked up to see the nervous, large blue eyes of Jackson, downcast after he had spoken the words. The unprompted admittance confused him as he turned to face him, “That’s okay, buddy, we’ve got floaties for that.”

Jackson did not seem convinced, shaking his head fiercely, “No, I -- I can’t swim.”

“J.J. is afraid of the water,” Noah exposes the truth just as easy as he takes a sip from his juice box, equipped with his own blue arm floaties, “He didn’t want to say though ‘cos --”

“Noah!” Jackson cuts him off, betrayal laced within his features.

“--’cos he didn’t want to seem like a wimp, but he almost drowned when he was little.”

Jackson looked as if he could cry, and Harry shook his head quickly, “Hey, hey, hey, c’mere buddy,” he motions him over, and he comes easily, stepping before Harry who had not bothered to leave his already crouched position, “Explain to me what’s going on, yeah?”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, a frown prevalent on his mouth, even as he speaks, “When I was little little, my big brother pushed me into the pool and I went under the water and my mom had to come in and get me because I can’t swim good.”

Harry pulls his lips back, reaching out to squeeze Jackson’s shoulder, “I’m sorry to hear that buddy. I won’t force you to get in the water if you don’t want to, but I do want to tell you that if you feel more comfortable, we could try a life jacket instead of the floaties? It’ll keep you more buoyant -- more bouncy in the water.”

“Aren’t those for little kids?” Jackson inquires, brows pinched, but Harry shakes his head and points toward Y/N, never more glad in that moment that she had the age group she did, along with her views on not making them do, wear, or say anything that she wouldn’t herself. She’s got the life jacket swung around her arm as she clips Oliver into his own.

“Y/N’s going to wear one too, and she’s not a little kid. I’ll wear one as well if you’d like.” He promised him. Albeit looking reserved, Jackson nods softly with his hands in little fists, worrying his lip between his teeth. The poor thing, Harry thinks -- he used to be afraid of water too. Nobody wants to conquer that fear suddenly, let alone with a group of people that may or may not poke fun because they’re kids and kids are jerks sometimes.

Harry finds him a life jacket -- a cute one with a shark on it, that he helps him clip on, and fits it to his body with the straps. Next, he needed to find one for himself, but he wasn’t entirely sure where they kept the counsellor life jackets, so he called for Y/N where she’d been a few meters away and she popped her head up from where she was like a meerkat. Her eyes softened when she realized who had called her, and a gentle smile pulled at her mouth, “Hey hubby,” she greets him, much to the delight of Charlotte, who claps giddily, “What d’ya need?”

“A life jacket, please. Where’d you get yours?” Harry tries to be decent -- tries desperately to keep his eyes to himself, but he finds that this is surprisingly difficult when Y/N is in her swimsuit. It wasn’t obscene in any sense of the word -- in the pamphlet they get when they sign up, it is very clear that speedos and bikinis were not appropriate, and therefore not allowed. If a child couldn’t wear it, then you shouldn’t bring it -- was the apothegm that they chose to live by in reference to dress code.

This, however, doesn’t mean that Y/N’s swimsuit didn’t suit her well. It was fitted in a way that wasn’t too tight, yet wasn’t too loose -- like it might have just been made with her in mind. A simple one piece of nylon and lycra colored a powder blue, that barely showed off that much more of what she wears to bed, and yet his mind still flutters elsewhere. To unwise places, that he drags himself from before clearing his throat and forcing himself to look around the lake so it appeared his eyes were just scanning everything.

“You’re in luck,” Y/N jogged the short way from where they stood, back to where her kids were all gathered, playing happily in the sand. Beneath what Harry had assumed was just a cluster of towels, another life jacket was hidden beneath the fabric. She hands it toward him with a triumphant grin, “This was the last one. I grabbed it for you in case you just wanted to float rather than keep your legs kicking -- you had a big lunch, didn’t want you to get a cramp.”

Harry hates how his heart balloons in his chest. There was no reason to be a melt because she had thought of him -- that she had him in mind, so she snatched the last life jacket, and hid it beneath towels so nobody else could have it. No reason to feel all mushy from the way that she unfolds it for him, a silent prompt that she’s going to help him pull it on. And there was certainly, absolutely no good reason for how stupidly affectionate he feels when she strokes her finger along the heart tattoo on his forearm mindlessly, before murmuring, “You make me wanna get covered in them. Maybe I’ll just go and get all of yours.” She looks down at the ground, “Maybe not the toe, my feet are ticklish -- think I would kick the artist.”

He recruits Y/N for the process of easing Jackson into the water -- Noah and Elinor are floating and bobbing about happily at their sides, while Charlotte and Mikey playfully kick and float close to their older counterparts (if not practically on top of them). There was a chill bite to the water when they had first stepped in, but as they walked out further and sunk a bit deeper, the cold eases up. The cool air soothes them from the sharp bite of the scorching sun, Jackson holds his hand so tightly Harry thinks his fingers may go numb, and he figures Y/N is feeling the same way, if her soft, “Loosen your grip up a bit, Sweetheart, you’re gonna take off my hand.”

Eventually, Jackson relaxes. He finally understands that the life jacket will keep him afloat and holding onto Y/N and Harry wasn’t a necessity. Once the idea of this settles in his brain, he is more willing to let go and enjoy himself. It feels wonderful to see that he’s having fun, and even better when he sees the smile on Y/N’s face from this small victory. Last year, he hadn’t felt this parental over the children last summer, but something had changed. . .something that made him feel like he was a bit of a parent.

It has to be Y/N. There was something about her that just oozes mother figure for these kids, even if she wasn’t intending to do so. She kissed the bandages over their wounds to take away the hurt, she praised the ground they walked on, picked them up if they asked, danced with them, encouraged them, treated every single child as if they were her own. Harry believes she’ll be a beautiful mother one day, if that’s what she’d like, and whoever the father or mother was she had chosen to spend her life with, they were unbelievably lucky. He just hoped they would understand that.

Y/N floats into his line of sight, “Are you okay? Ellie said you look like Maisey’s aunt again, whatever that means.”

Harry snorts, before nodding, “Yeah, I’m fine. A bit tired.”

An understanding gleam overtakes her, “Y’know, I did think you seemed a bit snoozy,” she reaches out for him, squeezing his shoulder softly, “D’ya want to have a sneaky nap? I could watch the kids.”

“But I like having you both,” Jackson whined, shaking his head quickly, finding their hands once more, reassuring that his grip was tight as ever, “Please stay.”

“Yeah,” Noah splashes over to them, sliding his arms around Harry’s neck, wetting his hair with the water clinging to his life jacket, “You two are fun together! We always have so much fun -- Brittany said her counsellor always yells at them when they ask her to play with them.”

Elinor was quick to add, “And Ro’s counsellor falls asleep during art days! He doesn’t even help them stay in the lines, and they’re little like Oli, and Charlotte.”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in the prettiest little pout -- Harry finds himself wanting to pluck it with the pad of his thumb, “That’s silly, isn’t it? I have so much fun with you guys, I couldn’t imagine not playing. Right Harry?”

Nodding his assent, he reaches up, settling his hands around Noah’s arms and bring him along with him as he kicks them closer to Y/N and the other three, “It is silly. Some people just aren’t as fun as Y/N and I, Bug, it’s proven fact. They did the scientific method and everything.”

Oliver gleefully pushes himself up on Y/N’s shoulders, flopping back into the water and bobbing, “I love yous!” He chirped brightly, “Yous guys are my favorites! I love yous.”

The sight is adorable, especially as Y/N wriggles around and holds her arms out so they could hug, which Oliver happily accepts, “I love yous too, button.”

They have fun -- for hours, as they switch out which kids are in the water, spend time on the beach with all of them, making sandcastles, burying one another, chatting and playing. It was very freeing; Harry could easily tell that he and the others were having far more fun than any of the other groups were -- Mitch and Niall had gravitated their groups closer to them when Y/N and the kids began to pour sand over the top of him. Even Cassidy came around with her kids after they had heard them all giggling and laughing and wanted to know what was going on. Harry was having fun, and maybe he was just mushy, but he credited it to the joy Y/N was exuding. It was hard not to be in a good mood when he was around her.

By the time the sun sat a little lower in the sky, casting the shadows of trees over the sand and cooling them to the point of chilling. The kids washed their feet and hands beneath the rush of water from a yard hydrant, wrapped up in towels, and headed toward the dining hall for their dinner. There was a taco bar today, and Harry found that Y/N and he had a mutual love of tacos as a whole. She showed him how she adds feta crumbles, even let him have a bite of hers to see if he would like it so he could decide whether or not to put it on his own (it was delicious, she was right).

Once dinner was finished, everyone was exhausted. They all gathered around the campfire, one of the counsellors strummed a song on his guitar, they all had s'mores and then they dispersed. Not even the rush of sugar from the chocolate and marshmallow gave any of the children an umph in their step; they were all so sluggish and slow, dragging their feet through the dirt on their way to their cabins. Harry’s group barely kept their eyes open as they stalked to the showers, washing off the lake water and sand that had been clinging to their bodies. After they brushed their teeth, they all but face planted in their beds and snores soon filled the quiet air of the cabin. They only made him realize how exhausted he was from the day spent baking in the sun, floating and kicking in the water.

He trudges back to his cabin, where he finds Y/N had already showered off. She was face down in her pillow, her back slowly rising and falling with each gentle breath she took. She hadn’t covered in her blankets -- no, instead she used his cardigan as a makeshift cover over her body, and Harry thinks it might just be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The patchwork swallows a good portion of her body, the sleeve flopped limply by her head. . .he could imagine her crawling into bed. Could imagine her putting her knee up first, dragging the cardigan that had been lying limply over the post with her and just letting it drape over her body. She probably wasn’t thinking she would fall asleep. . .probably thought she would just lay there for a minute before gathering the strength to get beneath her covers.

It’s adorable -- Harry hates how adorable he finds it, actually. If he could crawl in beside her he would, but instead he ambles to the bathroom, starts up the shower, and climbs in.

The water his hot -- boiling drops pelt his skin, washing away the grime and sweat that felt as if it’d been caked onto his skin. It felt good; to cleanse and scrub himself free of the lake, massage shampoo into his scalp, soften his curls with the conditioner, and just allow himself to revel in the feeling. Showers feel wonderful - a renewal that he deemed necessary by the end of the day. And when he gets the temperature just right, it soothes the aches and soreness in his bones, turning his muscles to softened jello. By the time he slipped out of the shower, he was practically boneless and thought he’d be lucky if he made it to his bed before dropping to the floor and falling asleep.

He expects Y/N to still be asleep when he leaves the bathroom, but he’s surprised to find her sat up in her bed, his cardigan pooled around her body and a deep frown on her face.

“Oh!” He’s started some -- he really thought she was out for the night, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“It’s morning?” Her face further turns to that of distress and Harry bites down hard on a chuckle.

“No,” he responds, “It’s not morning. Only about 10PM, so you’ve got plenty of time to rest still.” She looks around groggily, rubbing at her cheek with one hand while she fisted his cardigan in the other, pulling it closer around her body, “Why don’t you get beneath the covers, Babe?” He asks her, and she’s quiet for a little while. The only inkling Harry receives that she even heard him was how she tries to shuffle and wriggle the covers down with her still stretched out on the bed, stuffing her legs into the blankets first, then sliding the rest of the way smoothly. All the while she clings to the cardigan, holding it tightly, resting her cheek on it. Harry doesn’t know if Y/N’s just far more affectionate than he had even thought prior, or if she was just half awake and doing things she wouldn’t do if she was fully conscious. Vaguely does he remember her saying something about typically cuddling with a teddy at night -- how she stuffs her face against it because it always smells like her fabric softener.

He wonders if that’s why she snuggles with it -- he wonders if she likes the smell of him, so she buries her nose in the fabric and breathes it in as she rests.

Harry hates this. He hates how inconceivably soft he’s been feeling, but he can’t help it. Y/N had found him worthy enough to poke inside her brain -- she opened up to him in a way she expressed she’d not been opening up to many people about. It made him feel closer to her.

But he told her he wouldn’t treat her any differently after finding out. And if he suddenly started expressing more affection, he fears she would think he was only doing it because of what she told him. He just wants to be. . .he just wants to be gentle with her. Doesn’t want her to ever think that she’s a burden to him, because the anecdote had made him question and second guess how he’d been treating her their entire time here. Of course, he was never intentionally cruel, but some of the situations he thinks about the two of them in, and how he responded, makes him cringe.

He switches off the overhead light, her dimmed bedside lamp and muscle memory guide him to his bed. Harry climbs in, shivers as he adjusts to the warmth beneath his covers, and breathes a soft sigh of relief to have finished with the day.

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice startles his eyes open, which he’d not been aware he’d closed.

“Hm?” He hums -- he had thought she’d fallen back asleep already.

“You’re okay?”

A soft smile plays at his mouth -- she asks him every night before bed, he’s noticed.

“Yes, I’m okay. Are you okay?”

She nods, “You did really good today,” her voice is muffled from her cheek mushed against his cardigan, “The kids had a lot of fun, they were telling me. I had a lot of fun too.”

“Yeah? Me too,” he reaches to thumb the hairs of his eyebrow down, “And thank you. You always do really well with the kids.”

She’s quiet for a minute, and once more, Harry thinks she must have fallen asleep, but the shift of the mattress tells him she’s changing position and Harry notices once more that his eyes have closed, “I’m glad you’re my roomie.”

Harry utters the words, that two weeks ago he thinks he would have spit at.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re my roomie too.”

. . .

Harry was drunk.

Typically, he didn’t allow himself to get very drunk at these little parties. He trusted the others so little, he had no doubt in his mind that any moment he was slightly impaired in some way they would take it upon themselves to prey on his weakness. This means he only ever gets mildly tipsy -- drinks enough to feel good but caps himself when he thinks he might start stumbling.

But he just didn’t cap himself today. Not for any reason in particular -- their day hadn’t been difficult. They helped their kids through a mildly strenuous obstacle course throughout the morning, cooled down with them drinking juice boxes and eating popsicles and by 2PM they were inside doing little DIY projects. Harry burned his finger with some hot glue, but otherwise it was a pretty easy smooth kind of day that they didn’t get often. He and Y/N hadn’t gotten to spend much time together, which he wouldn’t admit loudly was a disappointment, but he and his kids had all agreed that they missed her.

(And when they had seen her and her group walking into the art room, the lot of them had erupted in cheers, Noah, Eli, Maisey being the loudest of them.)

They had a pasta dinner that was surprisingly filling, they told “spooky” campfire stories and ate s’mores, he got his kids ready for bed and he went off to the cabin. He and Y/N were going to one of the parties tonight, not because they had such spectacular luck with a good time before, but because they were coming up on some of their last nights here at camp. It was a bittersweet feeling -- Harry remembered being more than ready to flee last year, counting down each day, each hour dragging on longer than the last. This time, it felt like it was coming too quick. He would miss the kids, he would miss the busy days some. . .and sure, he was happy to go home and take a shower that stays hot longer than five minutes and rest on his soft, cozy bed, but he would miss not having Y/N right across from him.

That was what he was having the most trouble coming to terms with, he thinks. The idea of them not having to spend every moment of every day with one another after doing it for three weeks almost sounds wrong. It's the same feeling he gets when he knew he and Mitch wouldn’t have such easy access to one another once they went back home. Being at this camp sort of felt like being stuck in a time loop where the outside world doesn’t exist, so it’s very easy to forget that they all have lives outside of here. They all go to class, go to work, go home, study, eat and sleep.

He and Y/N live relatively close to one another -- only about a ten minute drive up the street with only one turn and it's into her apartment building -- but he wonders if they’ll utilize it. He wonders if their friendship is tied to this camp and if that’s where it will remain, or if she even wants to be friendly with him after. Harry hadn’t considered that maybe she was only putting up with him because they had to live together and she didn’t want it to be miserable. Had he questioned if he was even enjoyable to be around? How does he ask her that without sounding entirely too desperate or needy?

So partially, he drinks to ease some of the worry in his mind. Harry doesn’t think he would “break down” or something like it if they weren’t able to continue being friends -- like a forgotten summer love that he might think about throughout the fall, and message her to see how she was doing -- but he certainly wouldn’t be delighted if that’s how it ended up. Harry thinks there’s so much more to Y/N that he would like to see, and know, and hear. Three weeks isn’t enough time, Harry decided, but in the same breath he wondered if she had thought it was more than enough.

Harry knows she cares for him, at least a little bit. He knows that he cares for her and her wellbeing; he was fond of her. From what he knew of who she was fundamentally, down to her core, Harry knew she was selfless and kind -- it was hard to find people like that, who were that, without it being cakey or clouded by something else. She was transparent in who she was and her feelings regarding most things, and Harry valued her honesty.

And she was just so damn fun. Every moment with her he spent, the air filled with laughter; she brought a slice of sun in her pocket wherever she went and Harry was consistently being warmed beneath it.

The fact of the matter is, Harry doesn’t know how he could meet someone like Y/N, and get used to the idea of her not being in his life after three weeks. If he could refuse it he would, but what was he going to do? Kidnap her and take her home with him?

He’s sat on the tree root, opposed to standing beside it like he usually is, with his back pressed against the bark of the tree and he ignores the jagged, uneven trunk against his skin. Mitch was beside him, leaning lower than he was with his jacket bundled up and stuffed behind his head, his legs kicked out as far as they would go and because of this, his foot rested against Niall’s lap. Niall was pleasantly gone himself, a bit louder than normal but also zoning out every so often.

He was a good guy, Niall -- he had good opinions, and he chatted him and Mitch up about guitars often (he was typically the camp’s go to for an acoustic guy if they ever wanted campfire songs). Harry thinks they could probably be really good friends, if not for the fact that Niall was so barefaced in his crush on Y/N.

It was obvious, Harry thought. He’d thought it was obvious from the first moment he spent a prolonged period of time with both he and Y/N -- his cheeks got rosy when she touched him, he stuttered over his gratitude if she complimented him, and if she went out of her way to do something (like when she’d stuffed her hand into a thorn-bush for his guitar pick that had flung from his fingers, and subsequently got all scratched up), he would look at her how someone might stargaze.

Harry doesn’t know why he doesn’t just ask her out, if he likes her so much. It almost irritates him how skittish Niall seems to get at the prospect of it; to run away from those warm, nice feelings that she provides is silly. It reminds him entirely too much of himself and he loathes it.

Tonight had been no different, only Y/N was dancing back and forth between them and a few other counsellors (Harry only recognized one of them , who was called Rosie and had been in his first year maths). Harry watched her most of the night, in the least obnoxious and creepy way he could, just because. . .well, she was nice to look at. He liked how her body animated as she spoke, or how she nodded her head as someone was speaking to her -- it was an encouraging nod, and her eyes locked onto theirs like they might be telling her where the fountain of youth might be located, or the secrets to the universe.

She was cozy today -- it was cooler out than most of the nights that they had experienced, with a chill breeze that had even stirred goosebumps on Harry’s arms (and he was all but swaddled in his hoodie). Y/N had a light fitted sweater that she sometimes slept in -- not heavy enough to shield her from the icy terrain that winter would provide, but enough to fight past the harsh summer night breeze that threatened to help a storm roll in within the next few hours. Loosely, he let the images of her cuddled close to him invade his brain. What it might feel like, how the knit would brush against his skin, if she would hide her face in his neck or spider around him as the big spoon and burrow against his hair. Y/N struck him as someone who liked to do more of the cuddling than being cuddled herself.

He would miss her when they had to leave. Harry worried who would just exist with her, like they had been doing. He worried about her going back to a place where she felt like a burden -- he would be around, wouldn’t he? If she allowed him to, he could be there for her, but he doesn’t want to seem pushy. By all definitions, they had really just met -- Harry had known Y/N for approximately 17 days, but it felt like so much longer. He wonders if he had known her in a past life, or if it was the fact that they spent almost every day all day with one another for at least 15 of those 17 day -- he finally understands how everyone in the Love Island villa always goes on about how a day in the outside world feels like a week where they are.

It’s not like he’s professing his love to her, for fuck sake. He just likes her -- whether it be platonic or not, Harry thinks Y/N is just delightful.

“Your little girlfriend’s not with you?”

Harry had forgotten how Jack’s voice sounded how grating nails against iron pipes might make someone feel, mostly because they hadn’t spoken in quite a while. After Y/N had slapped him, he had kept to himself, resorting more to disgruntled glares and probably pissy comments he was murmuring to his mates about him. If someone asked Harry, he would say that him and his friends were afraid of Y/N -- she posed a good threat to them. Sure, they hadn’t understood the extent of her words that night (like how and why she knew Miss. Graham), but they were enough to rattle them. No matter being in university, or within the range of 20-23 years old, nobody wanted to be scolded by a woman in her 40s, nor did they want to be kicked out of a camp counsellor position, or to have their volunteer hours revoked.

So they had left him alone, which Harry thinks may have been such a strain for them he would be surprised if they hadn’t popped a blood vessel. Even if they wanted to, he was always with Y/N -- they never really had the chance, and if they did, they didn’t really take it.

Which is why he is both surprised and incredibly annoyed with Jack’s sudden appearance.

“Piss off.” Harry responds, nursing his beer bottle closer to him.

“You’re always so ill-tempered,” Jack leans up against the tree, “Just wanted to have a chat. Like why Cassidy suddenly wants to break things off after chatting with you and Y/N. Got any ideas?”

Harry’s brows dipped in confusion, “What? What are you on about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t fucking know,” Jack rolls his eyes, “Cassidy and I are doing just fucking fine for six months, but we come here, she starts chatting with you and now all the sudden she’s ready to break up. What the fuck did you say, hm?” He nudged Harry’s side with his foot, “Fucking Y/N wasn’t enough, you had to fuck Cassidy too?” He kicked him this time, harder than before.

Harry, who did not take too kindly to being kicked, rolled his eyes and pushed himself to a stand, “Dunno why you’re so fucking insecure that you think me being around has anything to do with Cassidy finally seeing what a prick you are, but this needs to stop,” he handed his bottle to Mitch who took it wordlessly, “I’m not fucking Cassidy, I’ve never fucked Cassidy, so if you could just grow the fuck up and recognize that maybe she broke up with you, because you’re awful to be around, that would be great.”

Jack, which Harry had expected, took more of a physical approach, giving a shove to Harry’s shoulders, and Harry’s back slams against the tree behind him, “Fuck you,” he spit, “You all holier than thou ‘cos you’re dipping your dick in Miss. Rainbow Bright? What do you know about me, hm? You’re just a dumb fuck who has to be here because you’re a no good druggy fuck with anger issues. How does it feel knowing you’ll amount to nothing after UNI?”

There isn’t a lot that could get under Harry’s skin. A lot of people could say a lot of shit that he brushes off and lets go, but there are two things that he really just can’t. One of them is when people try to speak poorly of his mum, and the other, was when someone pretends to know his situation when they don’t have a fucking clue. Who was this trust fund bastard to tell him he was a druggy fuck? That he would amount to nothing after UNI? Harry worked two jobs to set himself through school and keep himself fed, with a roof over his head, just so that he could live the life he wanted to after university.

Maybe it was silly to punch him, but it felt good to. Harry reared back his fist and it collided with his jaw, making Jack stumble backward, his hand flying to his face, “You fucking --” he swung in return, only he catches Harry’s shoulder because Harry moved out of the way in anticipation. Niall narrowly dodged being caught in the crossfire as he rolled out of the way.

The fight didn’t get too far, however, because when Jack was gearing up to swing again, Y/N appeared and easily wormed her way in between them, “Are you serious right now?” Her brows were furrowed -- she looked legitimately pissed off, and, well. . .it made Harry take a step back at least, “Thought we had a chat about this, hm? You were going to leave him the fuck alone -- no, look at me, not him,” she grabbed at his collar, giving a sharp tug when his angry gaze had flittered back toward Harry, “I’m not an angry person, Jack, I don’t like being mean, or cruel like you seem to be so fond of, but I can and will be if I need to and I promise you that. Don’t you ever speak to someone like that again, yeah? What you were saying was just awful.” She lets go of his collar, taking a step back and sighing in a sharp huff, “I can’t speak for Cassidy, but if I had to guess she probably cut things off because you’re a jealous bastard who questions every interaction with another person and try this alpha male persona to scare other people away. It must be exhausting.”

Jack shook his head, “We were fine --”

“You thought you were fine. Things aren’t always what they look like, alright? The sooner you understand that, the easier your life will be.” She nods toward the center of the clearing they were in, “Go get some ice from the cooler, and go the hell back to your cabin. You’re not a fun drunk.”

Albeit reluctantly, Jack follows her orders and slinks his way to the cooler. The others around them had grown quiet as they had watched the confrontation unfold, but they soon all lost interest once they realized nothing more would happen. Y/N turned to face Harry, the anger on her face immediately dissolving, as she shakes her head, “What a dick. I’m so sorry he spoke to you like that,” she takes ahold of his wrist, the hand that he had punched Jack with, running her thumbs over his reddened knuckles, “I told him -- after the lake, I told him that he needed to leave you alone or I’d do something about it. Dunno what I was gonna do, but I was going to do something -- I will --”

“Hey, hey,” he cuts her off, “It’s okay -- it’s okay, come on, let’s. . .let’s go to the cabin, yeah? Should we go back to the cabin?”

Y/N looks at him like he was batty, “No shit we’re going back to the cabin! I’ve got to give you like a full medical look over. He slammed you into the tree, and honestly, you bruise like a peach.”

They make the trek back to the cabin, relatively quiet, Harry still attempting to process what had happened and what Y/N had said. Had she really spoken to Jack after the fact and threatened him if he messed with Harry again? The softest, probably sweetest person he knows, had taken Jack off to the side and told him if he didn’t leave Harry alone she was going to do something about it. Not only that, she grabbed him by his collar and told him off in front of everyone. It made his heart race, the thought of it, and his cock twitches in his pants at the moment on repeat in his mind.

Once they get back to the cabin, Y/N has him take his hoodie off with her in the bathroom so she could visualize his back and shoulder. Jack may be short-tempered and smaller than Harry, but his punches still packed a great deal, so a nice, reddening bruise was forming quickly around his shoulder. On his back there were scrapes from the tree bark, Y/N tells him, and a ton of little bruises that had begun to form as well. She makes him stay still as she retrieves the first aid kit from their medicine cabinet.

“Y/N,” he started, and she hummed to encourage him to continue, “When did you speak with Jack privately?”

She clears her throat, plopping the first aid kit down on the sink counter and unclipping it open, “The morning after the lake,” she answers without hesitation, “I wasn’t trying to like, fight your battles or anything, but I needed him to know I wasn’t bluffing when I told them I would rat them out, and worse if the situation allowed it. I hate bullies,” she pulls out a small tube of bacitracin, tutting her tongue as she squeezes it out on the tip of her finger, “And I hate how they treat you. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“You didn’t at all,” Harry remarks softly, jolting when her fingers very carefully graze over one of the tender areas on his back, “Thank you, actually, for sticking up for me again.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I think I’m pretty scrappy when I need to be,” she giggles to herself, “Like, if need be, I would take on the Queen for you. Might be an uneven match though, she’s pushing 100.”

Harry spins around to face her though, “Y/N, I mean it,” he tells her seriously, their gazes locking, “Thank you for everything. For dealing with my attitude, for sticking up for me, for helping with the kids, for making this experience bearable, for being such a positive light,” he sighs, “You’re amazing, you deserve amazing things.”

Y/N looks taken by his words -- he wonders if she’s as lost in his eyes as he is in hers. Her mouth falls open gently, like she may be searching for what to say back to him but can’t come up with anything. He worries that he’d said too much -- that he freaked her out or something. He wasn’t trying to, he was just so grateful for her, he didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to express it.

He is about to apologize for being too forward, when Y/N pushes the short distance and connects their lips together.

Harry’s confused for a moment as his brain registers what’s happening, but when he feels that she might pull away, his body finally seems to wake up. His hands find her face, cradling her jaw in his hands as he reaffirms the kiss and lets the butterflies in his body take over in hoards. He’d given thought to kissing Y/N, sure, but he’d never thought it would happen. Not only that, he’d never thought it would feel this nice. She tastes like the pineapple wine coolers she’d been sipping on that night, her lips still a bit sticky from the residue of the alcohol on her soft lips.

She’s gentle in how she kisses, like Harry would have guessed -- careful too, and cautious with how her lips parted from him only to fix back together. A pool of heat had formed in Harry’s lower belly and rose to his chest, stirring his heart in flutters when her tongue slid into his mouth and met her own. Harry hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted to kiss her until their tongues are sliding against one another, and his hands are slipping down from her jaw, caressing the delicate skin of her throat, skating down her chest to her hips. He squeezes her sides and pulls her closer to him, feeling the knit of her top rub against his bare torso. It was as soft as he’d imagined it’d be.

Had she been wanting to kiss him for as long as he wanted to kiss her? Normally, Harry could tell how badly someone wanted to kiss him by the act alone, but with Y/N he was so caught up he couldn’t focus. She was calm and soft, but the longer they kissed, the more ardent she became. It was the tiny moan that had left from her mouth into his own, that made him lightheaded. He had to pull away to breathe but his forehead pressed against hers as he breathed in, “Harry?” Her voice is low, she says his name like a secret, “Was that okay?”

His response is to press their lips back together, but this time only for a moment, before he withdraws. Harry loops his fingers around her wrist and brings her with him back into the main room, flopping onto her bed since it was the closest and urging her to climb into his lap. She straddles him, and just as soon as she’s within reach, he slides his fingers at the nape of her neck and pulls her back to his mouth.

It was good -- it felt so fucking good, Harry couldn’t begin to describe it. He held her close, and tried as he might to stave off his cock from ruining the moment, the longer they kissed the harder he got. How she was positioned at first made it so she couldn’t really feel him, but when she tried to get closer to him, she scooted her hips forward and rubbed up right against him. A gasp leaves her as she parts from him, looking down, having lifted her hips, “I’m sorry,” she apologizes and Harry gives a startled laugh.

“I’ve got a stiffy, and you’re apologizing?” He chuckles with a shake of his head, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’ve got a pretty girl in my lap kissing me, s’kind of hard not to get hard. We can stop if you want.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she answers with no delay nor doubt, as she lowers back down, resting her front on his prick and with this she gives an experimental roll of her hips. Harry hisses in a breath as she does it again, her own little moan slipping from her mouth. She was only in a thin little pair of shorts, and Harry had chosen sweatpants for the night, so there was little fabric truly separating them. Harry was thankful for it as she continued to roll her hips against him, sponging kisses from his mouth, down his jawline, to the curve of his throat. She fixed her lips there, lulling her tongue over the skin before she started suckling at him and Harry’s hands danced along her back, stroking up and down it, feeling her, holding her closer. Each roll of her hips made him harder, and he was desperate to know if she was wet. If he pushed his fingers into her shorts, would they come back slick from her arousal? Would she watch him as he slid them into his mouth to taste her? Would she let him split her thighs and lick straight from the source.

His mind was overcome with filth, smutty images entangle once innocent thoughts as she brought the blood to the surface of his skin. When one of his hands left where it had latched onto her hip and slowly maneuvered around to her front, she paused, but left her face dipped in his throat, “Are you wet for me?” He asks her quietly and she nods through a little shiver, “Yeah? Bet you soaked through your little panties,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers past the elastic bands of her shorts and underwear, but left his fingers just past them, “Answer me.”

“Yes,” her voice trembles, she swallows thickly and the muscles in her abdomen contract beneath his fingers.

Harry hums low, slipping his fingers down further and he dips between her slick folds, “Oh, Sweetheart,” he presses a chaste kiss to the side of her head, “Is this your first time getting wet for me?” She shakes her head, “Hm, really? So you’re like this often? Do you take care of it?”

“I -- yeah,” she stutters over a moan as the pads of his fingers roll over her swollen clit slowly, feeling it flick beneath them, “At night, sometimes I will in the shower if I can’t. . .if I can’t wait anymore.”

He feigns a gasp, “Oh my goodness,” he speeds up the slow lull of his fingers, “Your showers are always so fast, doll, you’re really that quick to cum?”

Harry may not be able to see her face, but he can hear the pout clear in her voice, “It usually isn’t that fast! Just with you, it is -- when I think of you, it’s always quick.”

He thought it would be impossible for his cock to be harder than it already was, but her words make pre-cum bubble at the tip, and when he dips his fingers back into her slick little hole, he gets even harder. Gliding his fingers from her panties, he draws them up to his mouth and presses them past his lips as he’d wanted to. Y/N has withdrawn from his throat, watching him do it with glassy eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders, digging her fingers into grape sized dents at the muscle. Her mouth falls open as he sucks her juices away, his eyes fluttering and a groan torn from his throat.

“Get on the bed,” he instructed and Y/N followed without question, crawling from his lap and lying her head on her pillow as Harry stood, and repositioned himself. He takes a hold of shorts and drags them down her legs, wriggling them off her ankle and tossing them elsewhere. His lips finds her ankle first, before he’s peppering and sponging kisses down her leg, the parts that he had tended to throw over his shoulder. When he gets to her thighs, he makes the kisses slower, softer -- he suckles and nips at the supple skin until he’s right before her center, only to switch to her other thigh and push kisses up and down the length of it.

Y/N’s whole body trembles with each shaky breath she gives. She’d spoken no words until he was positioned right in front of her core, looping his fingers in the waistband of the little cotton pair she had on, pulling them up toward her hips so the fabric stretched out over her. He could see her pussy beneath it, made out the outline of her swollen lips and engorged clit -- it made his mouth water.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want,” she tells him, and his gaze is pulled back up to her -- she looks apprehensive.

“What?”

She shrugs, “I know some guys don’t really like to so --”

“Do you want me to eat your pussy?” Harry asks her bluntly, and he revels in the way her eyes widen, and how bashful her face turns as she looks away, “It’s a yes or no question, honey, if you don’t want me to, I can come back up and kiss you while I make you feel good with my fingers. If you do want me to, I’m g’na pull those panties to the side and make you cum on my tongue -- either I’m good with.”

“I -- yes,” she answers, her voice meek, “Yes I want you to.”

Harry smiles softly, “Poor thing, How many stupid boys were refusing to eat this sweet little peach?” He runs his thumb up and down her slit, visualizing where the wet spot had grown and soaked her panties so that the fabric thinned. Leaning in, he nosed at her clit and she inhales, “God, I’m so excited — you’re okay with this? You’re okay with me eating this little pussy out? Need you to let me know because once I start sweet girl, I’ll be in heaven.”

“Yes, please, please lick me.”

“So polite,” he suckles a kiss at the very innermost part of her thigh, before licking one, long stripe up her center through the fabric. She moans, pushing her hips down toward his mouth as he drags his tongue over it again, and again, and again. He soaks it with his spit, teasing her — he wanted to pull her panties to the side and suckle and slurp between her lips until she came — but he wants her to beg for him. Wants to hear that she wants him just as much as he wants her.

He smiles against her as he hears her getting impatient, little huffs between each moan. She whines, her hips bucking up against his tongue — he looks up to her, watching as her chest rises and falls quickly. The fingers of one hand are dug into the sheets beside her, while the others rest between her teeth. Her brows were tilted, lips pouted, whimpers come more frequently the longer he suckles and laps on the fabric, drenching it.

“Harry,” she finally works out, shivering when he pauses just over her clit and flickers his tongue over the top of it, “Oh, please just -- please.”

“Hm?” He hums against her, jolts, inhaling sharply, “What is it, baby? You’ve got to use your words.”

“Please stop teasing me,” she tells him, “Please take them off.”

And Harry may love to tease, but he wasn’t cruel. Wasn’t a bloody monster, was he? So he slides his index and middle finger in between the fabric and her core and tugs them over to the side -- he didn’t want to waste any time wiggling them down her legs. No, instead he dips his tongue in between her lips and slides it flat and straight up to her swollen clit. The groan that leaves her is sinful -- it makes his cock twitch in his pants, his heart slamming against his sternum as he suckles and her fingers find his curls. She digs her fingers within the strands, rocking her hips up to meet his mouth, and for a moment, Harry just leaves his tongue out and flat for her to grind against. Harry thinks, if he could spend the day just strapped to Y/N’s bed, willing, ready, and waiting for her to come use his mouth how she pleased -- he would be inconceivable happy.

Eventually he wiggles his face back into her, sliding his tongue back and forth before he latches his lips back around her silky folds. The swollen little button crying desperately for his attention was where he spent most of his time, lapping, or lulling his tongue in circles around it. She keens, her heel digs into the mattress and begins to slide down but Harry grabs a hold of her thighs and pushes both of them up, so her knees are to her chest. The new position makes her cry out his name raggedly, and Harry was teeming with carnal desire, and so horny he thinks he would barely have to hump against the mattress to cum.

“I’m close,” she warns him, mewling, “I’m g’na cum, I’m -- oh, please don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Harry doesn’t think he’d stop if he was paid to do it. He doubles his efforts, sucking harder, sliding down to tongue at her hole while his fingers wrapped around and spun little circles into her clit. His other hand he reaches up with and slides his thumb into her mouth and she accepts it graciously, as it muted her moans that grew louder and louder the closer she got.

When she cums, it’s beautiful -- Harry wishes he would be able to see it on repeat, how her back arched upward and her hips bucked loosely as she pulsated around his tongue. Her mouth hangs open around his thumb, her eyes squeezed shut, the fingers in his hair tighten and her other hand wraps around his wrists and holds him tightly. The initial lurch of it subsides and she melts into the mattress, trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving beneath her sweater.

After he thoroughly cleans her (until she’s twitching and jumping away from his tongue), he crawls up her body, pushing her sweater up over her breasts, “Can I fuck you, Darling?” He asks her, a small smile on his mouth when she leans her chest closer to him so he can reach behind her and unclip her bra. Tugging the cups away, he grabs them carefully, thumbing over her nipple, “If you don’t want to, that’s okay, don’t feel bad about it, just let me know.”

“I want you to,” she rushes to tell him, nodding, “Do you have a condom?”

He dips his head against her chest, breathing out a sigh, “Fuck me,” he utters, shaking his head, “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

He usually does -- Harry always keeps a few on him, but he remembers very vividly he and Y/N had blown his last one up just a few nights prior and drawn a face on it. For a moment he feels hopeless, a sad pit forming in his stomach because the thought of fucking Y/N sounded like paradise and he only brought one bloody condom that he wasted.

“It’s okay, we’ll do it next time then,” she tells him, and Harry feels a joyful spike in his overall demeanor. Next time -- she wanted there to be a next time? And if she wanted there to be a next time, then they would have to see each other after the camp. . .they would spend time together, Harry could learn what she was like in her normal day to day. He was eager and delighted, and not even just at the prospect of pushing into her (which he was also pretty damn excited for), “I mean, if you wanted to do this again, then, yeah -- right? We’ll hang out after camp is through?”

A smile threatens to split his cheeks, “Of course we will,” he tells her, nosing at her jawline, “And not just ‘cos you promised to let me fuck you. I was hoping we would see each other still but was worried that you might be sick of me.”

Her brows pinch, “Sick of you? Dummy, I thought you would be sick of me!” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at the both of them, “We’re so stupid, we ought’a communicate better.” Y/N presses at his abdomen, “C’mon then, I’ll spin around and you can fuck between my thighs. I did it once with a boy -- I just shaved in the shower last night too so it should be soft.”

Y/N flips over, scooting her bum in the air for him as she cuddles a pillow to her face, her ankles locked in place and her thighs squeezed together. Harry wiggles out of his pants and boxers before he lets a glob of spit fall onto his stiff cock that had soundly slapped up against his stomach, slicking it up nice and wet so the glide between her thighs wouldn’t be too dry. One hand he lays palm flat to her bum, stroking the skin there with his thumb while the other hand navigates his prick, tipping it down and fitting it between her warm, soft thighs.

It felt good; Harry groans wantonly as he pulls out and sinks back in, watching himself disappear between them. She wiggles her bum at him and Harry playfully swats it, chuckling when she squeals and giggles, “You’re so fucking cute,” he coos before bending over, stretching himself over her so his chest was pressed to her back as he started steadily fucking in between her thighs. One hand he uses to cup her breast and tweak at her nipple while the other he slides down to her pussy, finding her swollen little button and rubbing it.

Harry’s skin prickles as she moans, her legs falling open just slightly but he tuts his tongue, “Keep them nice and tight for me, baby,” he murmurs, and she nods, tightening the channel for him once more. He won’t last long, he knows it -- he can feel that pool of heat crackling in his lower belly. His blood buzzes in his ears as he fucks his hips forward, their skin slapping together sound in their little cabin. Her breasts bounce with each thrust he gives, she’s beginning to cum again from the ministration of his fingers, and Harry’s nearing the end of his rope.

“You feel so fucking good,” he’s just a breath away from her ear, “You’re gonna make me cum.”

He nibbles at the shell of her ear and lets his eyes flutter closed, his senses on overload. All he can hear, and taste, and smell, and feel is her. Dizzy and overwhelmed, Harry feels as if he may burst at the seams.

“Cum,” she murmurs, “Please, I want you to feel good -- I want you to cum.”

That’s all it takes -- the little push of her words has his hips stuttering as he cums, spurting long stripes between her thighs, some catching her skin, some landing on her sheets below them. His world fizzles out, static splinters through his body as warmth rushes through his veins, and his toes curl hard enough to lock up. As he comes back to, he giggles, the last of his orgasm drooling from the tip as he pushes a kiss to the back of Y/N’s head, “Stay still, lemme go get us a rag.”

His legs feel like jelly when he stands, fleeing arse naked to the bathroom and returning moments later with warm, wet rags. He cleans her first, careful in how he works her underwear down her legs before he pats gently around her thighs and at her center. She’s sensitive, so a few times she twitches and flinches from him but eventually relaxes as she holds tightly to the pillow. He wipes himself off a bit haphazardly, more concerned with getting Y/N somewhere to lie down as he gently tugs on her arms, “C’mere, poor thing, I came all over your bed.”

“Yeah, you jerk,” she says puckishly, letting him guide her over to his bed, climbing in and immediately snuggling beneath his covers. Harry is not too far behind her, and at first she snuggles up close to him, she hisses and squeals before trying to shuffle away, “Why are your feet like ice?” She asks him, her words accusing, like he’d come in the bed with intent to freeze her.

Harry shrugs, “I dunno’ I usually wear socks to bed to keep them warm.”

“Socks? To sleep?” She slowly wiggles her way closer to him, despite the words that follow, “I don’t think we can share a bed, you’re batty.”

“Guess you’ll have to go sleep on the jizzy bed then.”

Y/N laughs, and Harry feels it vibrate through his body as he holds her close to his chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. They’re quiet for a moment, as they both settle, taking deep, slow breaths, allowing themselves to slip towards sleep.

Before Harry could get there, Y/N murmured his name.

“Thanks for being my camp ‘husbad’.”

Harry smiled to himself, and held her a little closer before he teased her.

“You can say thank you next time with an 18 carat diamond.”

#WRITING #WOOOOOOOOOOO #I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT #YAHTZEE :D #IT WAS FUN TO WRITE #IM GONNA DO A SMALL PART 3 TO TIE THINGS UP IN A LITTLE BOW #HAPPY READING #harry smut

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kai-writes-fan-fiction · 4 years ago

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In Hiding Part 4/?

Hey loves! Sorry it took so long for me to write part 4, I’ve had school and band. I like this chapter, so I hope you do too!

Word count: 1566

Warnings: Really un graphic violence, mentions of undiagnosed PTSD, OCD, and depression, and my inability to write good endings

The last 30 minutes on the Quinjet were pure hell. Tony kept trying to grill you, and you didn’t respond, which motivated him to ask even more questions.

Finally, he rolled his eyes and asked, “Where are your parents?”

Hundreds of locked-away memories flooded your mind. Your parents had sold you to HYDRA at age 5. You didn't know much about your parents or their identities.

After he asked about your parents, you broke eye contact and looked anywhere but into someone's eyes.

“I see.” Tony scowled but continued asking more questions, but you weren't in the mood, even more now than before.

You eventually drifted off into a daydream as Tony’s questions slurred together. You dreamt about what your life could've been if you had parents and weren't mutant. You could still have parents; you wouldn't have sustained all of that torture at HYDRA, and you would've gotten to go to school!

School, something many take for granted. You didn't have any higher education, and being 15 and more innovative and 99.99% of the world, it was a moot point. Still, being among everyday people, having friends, and discovering your passions, would be amazing.

Snaps in your face brought you back, courtesy of Tony.

“Kid. Kid! Hello?” He snapped in your face.

You had returned to Earth and- hey, look at that! Tony is within head butting distance. Maybe it'd get him to shut up, or would Loki attack again? He was staring at you from the back of the jet, unmoving, eyes trying to predict your following movements.

“KID!” Tony shouted.

You'd had enough of hearing him in your face, so you turned back to him, made eye contact, and-

“Don’t do that, girl.” Loki snarled from his seat.

Tony turned to him and cocked his head.

“She was going to headbutt you, obviously. Don't get within 5 feet of her.”

Tony thanked him quietly and sat in his seat, glaring at you. You made eye contact with him once more, and you smirked.

The rest of the ride was quiet, save for a few tiny pockets of conversation and Tony coming up with more dumb questions, which you elected to ignore.

——————————

You had finally reached the compound, and all you could think about was your impending doom.

Steve picked you up again, as your restraints render you immobile. You fell limp in his arms, head dangling. You were so tired and so worried.

Steve carried you into the compound and to a room, or rather, a cell. The space was empty except for a cot in the corner and a sink. The wall next to the door sported a one-way mirror.

“You’ll stay in here; Stark wants to ask you more questions; he’ll be in here soon.” He put you down on the floor, and you looked up to him. He uncuffed you and swiftly ran out in fear of you trying to bolt again.

Little did you know, he and many of the other team members were staring at you from the other side of the glass, observing you in attempts to understand how you worked and your erotic behavior.

The room was made of something that made you powerless, and the walls were a blinding white. There weren’t any windows, and a single notepad and pencil lay on the bed.

You sat in the center of the room for 5 minutes, staying stationary. Once more, scenarios of what the Avengers might do to you crowded your mind. Tears came again, and you sobbed quietly. Everything hurt, and you were once again reminded that you'd been awake for almost 24 hours. So you carefully laid yourself out on the ground, being mindful of your bruises, and cried there.

—————Avengers POV—————

“So- uh- what do we do now?” Steve pointed to you, still crying on the floor.

“Poor thing,” Wanda remarked, frowning.

“Poor thing? She may be a child, but she's evil!” Tony scoffed.

“She could be a beneficial asset to the team,” Nat suggested.

“I don’t trust her.” Tony crossed his arms and looked back to your shaking figure.

“Tony, I kinda volunteered to go talk to her.” Steve turns back to him. “She's got a notepad, and if she doesn’t open up, we’ll send someone else in.”

“Why the hell did you volunteer me? Kid hates me; it's obvious.”

“Just go see if you can get anything out of her, Tony,” Natasha ordered.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes, stepping into your cell.

—————Your POV—————

Tony Stark stepped into your cell, the door shut with a loud ‘thud.’ His intentions were unclear, so you backed into a corner. He crouched in front of you and looked into your puffy, red eyes.

Now that the two of you weren't fighting, he noticed how truly young you were; you still had that childlike glimmer in your bright blue eyes. You had been turned into a villain, but it wasn’t your fault.

“Hey, kid.”

You didn’t respond, just blinked. He grabbed the notepad and pencil on the bed.

“Since we haven’t heard you speak, we put this here for you to write on. Do you know how to write?”

Of course, you knew how to write. You stared at Stark, annoyed that he thought you couldn’t write, and slowly nodded your head.

He handed you the notepad and pencil and asked your name, which he knew. He was trying to create a sense of normalcy for you.

“(Y/N)” You wrote.

“You have great handwriting and a beautiful name (Y/N).” He said, reaching for your hand.

You winced when Tony touched you and quickly brushed him off.

“Understood.” Tony moved back and asked you, “Did HYDRA give you your powers?”

“I don’t think so. I was young. I don’t know.” You wrote. You did know, however. You were born with powers, and that’s why your parents sold you. You were too much to handle, and many people were willing to pay hefty prices for you.

You weren’t fond of visiting HYDRA memories, let alone talking about them. Memories of being tortured plagued your dreams every night, and it seems that HYDRA had found a way to torture you even after you escaped.

Often loud noises would bring back memories, as would needles and human contact.

“I want my clothes back.” You wrote. You thought they might bring some semblance of home, a piece of you to hold, and you’d be able to smell your apartment and yourself.

Tony nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Do you need anything else?”

You shook your head and wrote, “Please leave now. And don’t stare at me from the window. It's creepy.”

Tony chuckled. “Ok, Banner is going to come to check on you at some point.”

You nodded and waved your hand towards the door, signaling him to leave.

Tony slowly got up, and you stared silently as he left the cell. Before he shut the door, he looked back to you, stationary on the floor, staring up at him. Once he was gone, you stared into the mirror, not at yourself but any unsuspecting souls behind it.

Once you thought the sufficient amount of staring was reached, you got up and went to the bed at the far corner of your cell. It was perpendicular to the door, so you could see if anyone entered and be ready to defend yourself.

–—————————

It must've been an hour or so until Banner walked into your cell. You jumped up from the bed and pushed yourself into a corner. He frowned and set down what he was carrying, which was a tray of food and your clothing.

He stepped away from said items, and you scrambled to grab them, scared he’d take them back. You backed yourself into your corner once more, shielding yourself with your clothing.

“Hey, (Y/N). Remember me?”

You scowled. You remembered him, and you weren't very fond of the memories you shared with him.

You didn't move, eyes still trained on him. He kneeled about 5 feet away from you, not wanting to startle you.

His voice was low and soft when he asked, “Can I come closer?”

You stared, not knowing how to answer. Would Bruce hurt you again? Could you trust him? It didn’t look like he was holding anything more to hurt you. You allowed yourself to creep closer, slowly inching towards him.

“See, baby steps.” He looked towards the window. You assumed some people were still watching the two of you.

You let yourself come closer, until you were about a foot away from him.

“Can I touch your hand?” He reached out and touched you, but you winced and pulled your hand away. You still didn’t trust him, you would need a whole lot more prof before letting him, or anyone for that matter, touch you.

“Ok, I’m going to go now, get some sleep.” He stood and turned away from you, heading to the exit.

He stepped out, and turned off the lights in your room. It was almost pitch black, except for a dim light coming through the window. You climbed into the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. You were exhausted, but sleep refused to come.

It must have been 45 minutes when you finally drifted off to a restless sleep. You dreamt about what would meet you in the morning.

Tag list: @sweetpeaflower01 @kinny-away @mangobangi @cumulonimbus34 @oakiedokie @moonbaejpeg @coollemonsaresour @screechingshepherddeputygoth @trinity-1002107 @padmoonyfeorge @laurenced1l @vaaalexandra

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bella-donna418 · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday Eren!

A/N: Been very half inactive here 💀💀💀

So it’s our special boy’s birthday today, I might as well make a headcanon like how I did with Mikasa and Falco's birthday (missed Annie’s birthday but like, I celebrated her bday IRL 😂😂😂)

And…

Actors AU again wew 😂😂😂

(Please don’t mind the timeskips)

~~~

Birthday boy's day today, so might as well make something for him 👉👈

Let’s go!

Mikasa was literally sitting at the nearest chair she could find in the set and of course;

It's her boyfriend’s birthday today and there’s no fucking way she'll forget about it.

But she can’t just let him get away without revenge!

That’s right, last time on her and Falco's birthday—Eren pranked them.

At least they got surprises and all—

But that’s not the point!

She needs to at least prank him back—worse than what he did. (evil ik 😔😔😔

But he did “indirectly” made her cry that time.

So she decided she’ll also prank him back then surprise him.

An idea then popped into her mind and she couldn’t help but grin to herself.

“Mikasa!” Sasha called, snapping her back to reality from her ‘annual brainstorming’.

She shook her head and looked at her, confused.

“Director is calling you.” She said while munching on a cinnamon bun (usual Sasha)

“Right.” She smiled sheepishly and stood up.

After finishing her scenes and all, she got back to brainstorming.

Oh, it’s also her break time so she could go wherever she wants, but she decided to stay and think for a while more.

Then an idea popped into her mind and she couldn’t help but laugh a bit to herself. And that prank was her ignoring Eren 😈😈😈 Knowing him, he wouldn’t care if other people ignored him. But he'd be worried asf and he could go crazy if she did (your Eren cares about Mikasa’s attention “only” your honor 😔😔😔) And the beautiful cruel woman mode is on. Eren was going to pick her up today for lunch since he also finished his tapings and all (also Armin and Annie's with him) He got out to wait and greet her like he always does. ~~~

Earlier…

Since EreMika and AruAni share a car (lol cuz why not?), knowing that Annie and is the earliest to finish.

Mikasa decided to call her, knowing that she’s the earliest to finish out of all of them, and Armin's probably busy at that time.

“Yo, Annie!” She casually said trying to stifle her laughter (Annie knows what’s up lol)

“What? You’re gonna ask another favor again?” (told ya)

“Can’t I just greet my friend? 🥺” Annie sighs over the phone and said, “What is it?”

Now this is when it gets ✨interesting✨

She told Annie all her plans and she decided to go along with it.

“Oh, tell Armin as well.” where she just received a hum as a reply.

Mikasa saw a glimpse of Eren at the entrance of the building and immediately went somewhere she can’t be seen.

The prank starts now 🤡

She immediately composed herself and put on her poker face.

Eren saw her from afar and smiled at her.

She literally feels sorry for him (😂😂😂)

~~~

5 mins earlier…

She was now facing the camera and she could tell that once Eren watches this he'll go “berserk”. (wild Eren 🤡🤡🤡)

“Eren, if you ever see this, I'm sorry. *awkward laugh* Happy birthday to you my loves. I love you.” (literally said that 😂😂😂)

She passed by him without even saying anything—she’s not even smiling! (Mikasa putting years of being a top actress to work here 😂😂😂)

Eren just looked at her confused and caught up to her side.

She won’t look at him and this made Eren a bit sad and more confused.

From what he remembers, they never argued or anything at all.

He's also wondering, ‘Is she ignoring me?’ ‘Is she in a bad mood?’

Going with the second option, he decided to give her time and space like what he thought she needed.

They got inside the car. (well the car is actually like a van, but let me call it a car ok??? 🤡)

Ok, their sitting arrangement is basically like this;

Eren and Mikasa

Annie and Armin

Ok back to the topic—

Annie and Armin were looking at them—well, especially Eren.

“Annie, water.” She looked at Annie who was literally skeptical about her lasting long or even not laughing.

She gave Mikasa her water bottle receiving a smile of thanks from her—Eren looking at his lovely bae (poor Eren 🥺)

Heads up! Everyone knew about it, and yes, when I say everyone, it’s everyone (ok wtf am I even saying?)

So, they were silent for the whole ride and nobody’s talking.

Annie's asleep on Armin's shoulder while he’s busy on his phone.

Eren was stealing glances at Mikasa while she’s also on her phone.

Please, his face is like, “Please notice me already. I love you 🥺👉👈”

If you’re wondering where they’re headed to, they’re going to a restaurant Annie wanted to try (but she’s too shy to ask to the point Armin instantly read her mind and she’s like “H-huh? I said nothing—“) which is also far from their workplace/s.

After a mere hour and a half, they finally arrived at the restaurant, and yay, everyone’s awake! (Kudos to the 3 henchmen for enduring the urge to sleep the entire ride, especially Mikasa)

It’s a fine-dining restaurant (rich bitches 😔)

So they found a table which is good for all of them (driver and assistant included)

To add salt to the wound, Mikasa decided to sit beside Annie (Armin letting her)

Eren only looked at her—not used to getting ignored this long. Why exactly? Because;

She doesn’t ignore him without any reason at all.

If ever they get in an argument, they’d make up and her ignoring him won’t even last for a mere hour or so because y'know.

She has NEVER ignored him this long.

Eren just shrugged it off, but he doesn’t feel good about this.

A waiter finally came to take their orders.

They each had different foods and since Armin was the one to bring them here (Annie's wallet gets saved by bae 🥺), he's the one to pay for all of them which he doesn’t mind at all.

Mikasa was quite clingy to Annie as well while she just went with the flow knowing it’s all needed for her prank.

Even though she’s questioning if it’s really necessary 🙃

After 10 minutes, their orders are finally here!

And of course, hunger doesn’t wait for any kind of bullshit ceremony and all so digging in they go 🍽🍽

They were a few conversations, Armin initiating them because Eren is too quiet (just a few more hours to endure 🥺) and Mikasa doesn’t want to initiate them and cut Eren off because he’s always the one to reply to her topics (it could come off as rude 😅😅)

And of course, everything was being filmed (yes, their assistant is also a videographer 😗✌)

So it’s basically 85% silence and eating (pls they just need a speaker and it’s gonna turn into an ASMR) while 15% are their conversations/topics 🤡

Eren is also on his phone while eating (ok I can tell ppl gonna yell at me for this 🤡)

And Mikasa's taking this opportunity to take glances at him and she couldn’t help but literally laugh to herself and look at the camera then mouth ‘sorry’

Annie's still skeptical and Armin is trying his best not to laugh or something I mean, Eren's still looking gloomy (fact: he doesn’t care it’s his birthday at all and just cares about Mikasa and all)

After a few minutes, they finished and have paid so they’re now on their way back. But the thing is… ~~~

Sasha cam

“Yo, they’re almost back.” She said after looking at her own phone and seeing Mikasa's message.

They immediately went on double-time mode and so far, the room's looking quite ready 🤭

And since they’re freer later at night, they decided to do the surprise that time (poor Mikasa gotta endure more of this torture prank she put upon herself 🤡)

And of course, Sasha’s filming this ✌ ~~~

7:36 p.m

They’re finally free from the shackles of work!

And yes, they’re immediately headed for phase 2 of the surprise for our birthday boy.

So, trying not to encounter Eren, Mikasa immediately headed to the place where she’s going to meet Niccolo to give her the cake (yes, they planned this carefully)

So she finally got the cake and she's on her spot (they all have different spots 😂)

They’re now all on standby and of course, Mikasa went to Zeke so he could bring Eren to the lovely spot since yeah—

About 2 minutes passed and they’re still on standby—and finally, Eren's here!

Eren didn’t even hesitate to open the door and when he did, his eyes widened a bit.

“Surprise!” Everyone greeted him but his eyes were just locked at a Mikasa holding his birthday cake and smiling sheepishly at him.

She handed the cake to Ymir and Eren immediately ran to her —hugging her (he's glad that his suffering is over 🥺)

Mikasa laughed and hugged him back and whispered “Happy birthday” to him.

He broke the hug and pulled her in for a swift kiss making Mikasa surprised.

“Are we gonna eat now? Sasha might finish all of this if Niccolo will keep giving her free servings.” Ymir retorted making everyone laugh.

“Geez, I wasn’t expecting her to ignore him for a full day.” Historia sighed a bit which made Mikasa laugh lightly.

Eren looked at Mikasa with his brows furrowed a bit and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Don’t do that again—” He was cut off by Annie who was now in charge of holding the cake (Ymir do be passing all her chores 🤡)

“Blow the candles now birthday boy.” She said—him complying while arms still around Mikasa—everyone making noises with party blowers while spraying silly strings everywhere after (bear the bad writing 😂)

“Alright! Let’s eat!” Pieck said while giving plates, spoons, and forks to everyone for all of them to finally be able to eat.

Of course, Niccolo is the sponsor for all of their food to eat 😂

Eren was now being a clingy baby to Mikasa which is just 🥺✨

The atmosphere was filled with laughter and everyone telling funny stories and jokes.

Of course, afterward, they gave him their gifts while he smirked and was like, “Mikasa's the best gift—” receiving a smack on the head from her—everyone laughing saying he deserved it.

~~~

A/N: I, personally think this is poorly written 🤡

Sorry bout that.

But overall, happy birthday Eren! YOU’RE 20 NOW AND STILL ASSLESS— 🤡😂

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imonthinice · 3 years ago

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 17/?

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name.

So, when I started this, I didn’t expect it to become what it is, or for it to really be taken seriously. I wrote it because I wanted to get better at storytelling, and now I’m averaging 20 notes a day. That’s insane to me.

Warnings: Eludes to sex, mentions of trauma, mentions of court system, victim blaming, mentions of injuries, swearing, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Waking up next to Jason was becoming something of a routine for Y/N. It had been 4 days in a row that she woke up next to him or with him in arm’s reach. She loved that about their relationship, how quickly they both could fall asleep with each other.

She rolled over in her bed and realized Jason was sweating and clutching the sheets. She leant over him slightly and turned on the fan, hoping he would sweat less so he could be in less pain.

She didn’t know what would actually stop the pain, she didn’t actually know if he was in pain. She reached out to stroke his back, just trying to comfort him, it seemed to work. He didn’t exactly reject her advances to rub his back. But he did jump a bit when she touched him.

She didn’t want him to be hurt by her touching him, so she did attempt to wake him up. He didn’t answer her though, so she got up from her bed and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked rough like she had been crying all night about the trial. Makeup running, eyes puffy, bloodshot. But what else did she expect after that trial? She didn’t remember anything.

She decided to shower, in her own shower. It had been 3 days since she last showered, which was okay but it wasn’t something she was used to.

She got into her shower and just thought. She was fucked up. She had been fucked up this entire time, she had hidden secrets from Jason, from everyone. She thought it was selfish, immature, and irresponsible that she did that. But she also didn't know how to talk to them all.

How do I even start that conversation? Hey, I’m fucked up, help me. I’m sorry, I messed up, she thought, I can’t do that, I can’t.

She got out of the shower and glanced at the clock like she would normally, it was 4:00am. That’s new, she thought, I didn’t know it was this early, maybe I should not have showered.

She smiled to herself a bit and took care of her face, doing a facial routine, just trying to calm herself and come off that high she was on for the majority of the day before. She knew she had to take care of herself to help her become stable again.

She knew what she did yesterday was linked to trauma, she just knew it. She didn’t know what it was, or how to combat it. But she knew she would probably not be mentally capable of watching the rest of the trial, and that was okay with her, she didn’t want to watch the rest of the trial. She would ignore her professor if he asked her to write anything about the trial. She knew he likely couldn’t because of her connections, but she wasn’t going to get mad at him.

She didn’t want to get mad at anyone for this. Opinions about the trial, asking her to talk about it, anything, she didn’t want to hate.

Jason was still asleep when she reentered her room. She smiled at him, wishing he was awake with her at that moment. She went to her notes at her desk and sighed, she guessed she would sit down and do some work. She pulled out her journal and wrote;

To each member of my family, somehow we reached here,

I’ve ended up with people wanting to hurt me,

Here we see the pain of there,

Maybe three.

I guess I can’t write poetry,

Maybe it’s all I see,

The pain, the torture, the people who hurt,

What am I doing?

She scribbled down a dying rose. She didn’t know why she did all of that. Normally she didn’t feel like that. Poetry was a good way to get all of the emotions out. Her journal had a lot, a lot, of insane writings and drawings of things she felt.

She guessed she was fucked up. But she thought the things wrong with her would make her art better. She needed therapy, probably. She was going to look into that, she decided in those moments. Therapy may help her cope with a lot of the stuff that she dealt with.

Or was she aware that she’d never be fixed?

----------------------------------------------------

She sat at her desk after making a quick coffee. It was still only 5:00am, and she was organizing her notes, just thinking. Maybe she’d paint something. Maybe she’d get a picture of the Wayne Manor Gardens and paint it. She just wanted something to fiddle with if she was going to be harassed if she left the house. She probably wasn't going to be able to leave the house for a while.

She was fine with that, she didn’t like it but she didn’t hate it either. She just wished for the trial to be over, even if the man was found not guilty of the charges.

And the longer the painting project, the longer she could spend locked away from the media. That was just all that she wanted, to walk away from the media while still keeping Jason.

He was still sleeping. She didn’t notice because she was so entranced in her own art, but he was struggling at that moment.

And then she noticed.

She got up and went to her bed and sat beside his head on the floor. She stroked his hair and tried to comfort him when he woke up.

“Hey,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer.

“You alright?” she asked.

He turned his back to her, so she stroked it.

“It’s okay if you’re not alright, baby,” she said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

She crawled into bed with him and became the big spoon for a bit. She didn’t say anything to him, he didn’t say anything to her. He was sticky and sweaty, but she didn’t care.

Silence was killing for most people, but she sat through it and allowed him to be quiet.

She wished for the stories behind his scars, but she didn’t want to push for them. They hadn’t been together for long enough for her to ask about it. But she loved to trace his scars with her fingers, just letting him know she knew about them. She didn’t know how he felt about it. But she tried to be kind and loving towards his scars.

Some were small holes. Some were small lines. Some were long lines. One was Y-Shaped on his chest. One existed on his cheek and she couldn’t make out what it was.

She didn’t think that he was lesser because of his scars. He thought he was lesser for his scars.

“Hey, Jay. Do you want to eat breakfast? It’s 6:00am, we can dip to get food?” she asked, trying to make him feel better.

“If you don’t mention the nightmares, sure.”

“I won’t.”

He rolled over to her and smiled before kissing her.

------------------------------------------

They got up a couple hours later, clothes strewn across her room, boxers and pants torn. She laughed, hoping he would still have clothes to wear.

“Don’t laugh, I might have nothing to wear!”

“I hope you have something to wear, babe.”

“And what if I don’t? We were pretty messy.”

“We were, but still. If you have nothing we’re kind of fucked,” she said, glaring.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re cute. Just stop staring at me like that! It takes two to tango!”

“The forbidden horizontal tango,” she said between laughs.

“The forbidden horizontal tango is now the only way I am going to refer to sex.”

“I mean as you should.”

“My family is going to kill me for calling sex that.”

“I mean as they should,” she laughed, “Did you find clothes?” she asked, having already gotten dressed.

“Okay that’s unfair, you can’t wear new clothes when I’m stuck with ripped boxers.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have worn them in the first place,” she said, laughing, “And to be fair, Jay, I’m the one with clothes and you didn’t follow your own suggestion for an overnight bag.”

“Okay, listen, first of all,” he grabbed her, “That’s obviously my fault but shush, secondly, you’re dressing very black today,” he observed.

“Felt I would look the part of dating a Wayne.”

“No one’s going to see you.”

“That’s the point. I’m an invisible partner of a Wayne.”

“Well, I think you look nice.”

“I’m glad,” she laughed, “How ripped are your clothes?”

“Decently. Not noticeably, but decently.”

“Fun! Shall we go?”

He laughed and grabbed her arm, pulling her lightly to the car and getting in to drive.

“You ever think the vigilantes around here have complex lives?” she thought aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do they have crazy, fulfilling lives like us, or are they just there to be heroes of the night? Are they sitting there wondering if they’re going to come home to their partners or if their parents are worried about them?” she questioned.

He sat there, looking forward. If only you knew. If only you knew what I go through, what everyone goes through. He managed to laugh and blow her off, “Maybe they’re just robots made to fight crooks in alleyways.”

“I’m serious. What if they’re all out there worried they’re going to die?”

“C’mon now.”

“Jay! They’re people!”

“They’re probably okay, baby. I doubt they’re out there almost dying.”

She wanted to say ‘You almost died’ but she bit her tongue, “That’s probably true. But it’s always something I thought, even when I lied in Metropolis with god damn Superman. I always wondered if he had a home to go to.”

“Who knows. Who knows.”

“They would. Maybe I should get a job as a reporter, interview some of them. Say ‘Fuck it’ and know if they have homes.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“How?”

“My Aunt, Iris, Barry’s wife? She’s a reporter. She’s on the frontlines for the supervillains and the small-time crooks of the world.”

“So anything and everything in between? Festive.”

“Well, that’s the life of a reporter. Journalists? Like my Uncle? He deals with a lot less bullshit unless they link him to Bruce. Iris is a reporter so she’s constantly there, Clark is usually never there.”

“Well, we at least know the elusive reporter and journalist have families,” she joked and he laughed.

“The elusive reporter and journalist in their natural habitats, my favourite National Geographic episode.”

She looked out her window at the streets and the people. She hadn’t been outside at night recently on the streets of Gotham, and she missed it. There was always something about it that made her keep coming back. Maybe it was the orphaned kids that she would go and make sure were okay. Maybe it was the fact that she watched one of the vigilantes swing to another roof.

She still remembered that moment well. She thought it was amazing, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her to have experienced. She wished she knew more, even if she just knew which one they were. So she could go on the forums and ask if people had spoken to them. Maybe it wasn’t a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, maybe others had witnessed what she did, but she wouldn’t know if she did not know which it was.

“Hey, random question, do you know the vigilantes' names in the city?” she asked Jason.

“Uh, yeah? Why?” he responded.

“Okay so, the first night I walked home from your house after my car got towed right? I saw one of them. I’m not familiar with the vigilantes of the city, so: Do you know which one is the one with the blue bird symbol on their chest?”

“Oh, that one’s Nightwing. He seems cool, I don’t know, never actually met the guy.”

“Don’t Wayne Galas get attacked by villains on the regular though?”

“That doesn’t mean we get to talk to them,” he laughed, “It would be cool if we did, though.”

“Yeah it would. Would be a killer story for your Uncle and Aunt.”

“They are the only tabloids I liked because they leave us alone.”

“No reports from the Daily Planet about the Waynes?” she joked.

“God, Dad would probably half-jokingly sue Clark over that. Like sue him for 3 dollars or somethin’ levels of jokingly suing him.”

“Now, that, that would be a story for the tabloids.”

“Remind me to tell Dad about that, maybe it’ll get the press off your back.”

“You say that like your extended family cares about my trials.”

“They do, they wonder how you found yourself wrapped up in 2 crimes in the span of 2 weeks.”

“I wish I knew how I did that.”

He laughed, “If only we knew.”

“I guess we go get breakfast now, fast food?” he asked.

“Obviously, I’m not eating in a restaurant with this high of a profile recently, my god,” she laughed.

“Alright, anything in particular? I can just order for you if you’re not up to talking to some people.”

“Go for it.”

“Alright.”

She didn’t pay attention while he ordered, instead she opened her lovely cellphone. And there they were, the tabloids click baiting the trials she was involved in. She rolled her eyes, knowing most of them were wrong, when she saw the article written by Clark Kent about it. She was tempted to read it, to know what Clark said. She figured he’d be an unbiased source fo information, but also likely more on her side than the defendant’s side. She didn’t even know the defendant's name.

She tapped on it and began reading.

The Case of The Court Versus David Brown.

Brown is a man known to the courts of Gotham, and the county jail of Gotham. When he was accused of assaulting a young woman, Ms. Y/N (Last name), not many members of the Gotham Police Force were shocked.

On the first day of the trial, Brown was asked to plead, to which he said, “Not guilty, your honor,” which is under a lot of scrutiny of those who have seen the video of Ms. (Last name) running from Brown in the alleyway where she head-butted him.

The prosecution opened their case,

“Ms. (Last name) was assaulted by the defendant, there is no question about it. The question here is if his motive was for the ransom Ms. (Last name) referenced in her interview with police after the event. The defendant very clearly went after Ms. (Last name) because of her ties to the billionaire Bruce Wayne, who would have easily paid the ransom for her if she hadn’t escaped.

The defense opened their case,

The question of whether or not my client assaulted Ms. (Last name) is not up for debate, he did assault her. However, it was in self-defense. She had assaulted him first, pulling him into the alleyway and attempting to make advances on him. She twisted the story in her on words to include the head-butting incident, in reality, my client punched her for her advances.

The people who watched the first event of the trial have noted being “Disgusted” and “Annoyed” at the practices that the defense brought to court, “Slandering the name of Ms. (Last name) when she is the victim.” many people are upset with the defense in this trial.

The next day of the trial should take place within a week. Until then, the questions are not going to be answered.

She looked at the defense's argument numerous times. She was in shock that they would accuse her of such bullshit. She was terrified that they would get away with this, when Jason pulled her out of her thoughts with a coffee.

“You shouldn’t get so involved in the tabloids right now, love.”

“Sorry, if it makes you feel better your Uncle wrote it. And thank you.”

“Anytime. I guess Clark wrote it well, but you watched the trial?”

“I don’t remember it.”

“You’re probably not going to watch more of it, are you?”

‘No way,” she said while drinking her coffee as they drove back to her house.

“That’s fair. No one expected you to be able to be able ot watch it.”

She nodded and kept drinking, “They made up so much bullshit.”

“They did, oh my god, I was pissed, baby. I was so god damn mad. Because what the fuck do you gain from lying?”

“Don’t even put that question in the universe, you know they’ll try to answer it the next time they’re in trial.”

“God you’re right,” he laughed, “Got you a breakfast sandwich. At least the dammed tabloids can’t take that away from us.”

“Thank god,” she laughed, “Thank you.”

“Seriously, anytime. It’s worth it.”

“You’ve spent so much money on me.”

“Pocket change.”

“Well, duh. Trust-fund baby.”

“Ouch.”

“I’ll take you somewhere when I’m less high-profile. Maybe we’ll fake a breakup to keep everyone off my ass so we can go somewhere.”

“Fake a breakup? Wouldn't that just make you hated?”

“I’m already hated. I’m a gold-digger, a whore, a cheater, a statistic, a suicidal maniac, a homicidal maniac, a psychopath, I can go on and on about the shit being said about me.”

“Man, people need to keep their mouths shut.”

“You could say that again- don’t actually. But like, what the fuck did I do to deserve this, honestly? All I did was go on a date with you to get bombarded, yes, I do treat the press unfairly, but I do my best to never say a bad word about them publically, just jokes,” she joked, “I hate this,” she laughed.

“I hate tihs too,” he laughed, “You’re worth it though.”

“Oh man, a week into dating, two weeks into knowing each other and we’re here.”

“We should be anywhere else but in the midst of these terrible circumstances.”

“It’s unfortunate.”

---------------------------

Drinking her coffee on her bed with Jason beside her was something else, it was probably the most they had branched out in 4 days. The silence was lovely now that neither of them were having issues. They ate and drank in silence. They didn’t need constant conversation to prove that the enjoyed the presence of each other.

She took a minute to take it all in, the messy shelves in her bedroom, the place on her desk where her laptop belonged, the broken handle to her bathroom door, the sheets on her bed which had been pulled and ruffled from Jason and her having fun.

She looked out her window and looked at the rain starting to pour and decided to cuddle closer to Jason. He was warm but had a presence of underwhelming coldness to him, like he gave off fake body heat. She didn’t know what it was, but the extremes of his body were something she enjoyed but hated.

The exposition between his black hair to his white tuff of hair, the rough eyebrows to the small and delicate freckles, the blue of his eyes which seemed to glow green. The way it was like she was driving down a road, full speed ahead, and crashed into a wall, that was how it felt to be with Jason.

But who doesn’t love to die in a fiery accident into a wall at 500mph?

She laughed internally at her own joke about him before grabbing his hand and yanking him into the living room and past her roommate, A/N. A/N did not question it, because there was a new life to her roommate recently.

She dragged him out into the rain, to which he protested.

“What the fuck, respectfully?”

She laughed, “Don’t be respectful, and trust me. I’m going to make a movie moment.”

“I’m getting wet.”

“That’s my job,” she joked as she turned on a slow song before going to Jason and dancing with him.

“Well, can’t say I’ve done this,” he said.

“I don’t think most couples do.”

“Then why are we?” he asked

“Uh, yolo? You only live once, might as well dance in the rain with one of your lovers?” she retorted.

“One of them? Am I not the only one?”

“Oh no, you are,” she laughed, “But who knows, maybe we’ll fuck monogamy up the ass,” she joked.

“Probably not.”

And they danced for a few hours. Twirling and dipping in the rain. Watching the clothes they were wearing get more and more wet until the the white parts of Y/N’s dress were see-through, which took a while considering how small they were.

Their hair was soaked and her makeup was running but they didn’t care. They were having fun, and no one was going to stop them, not a villain, not a vigilante, no one. He would wipe away her makeup since it was basically already off her face and laugh.

“Your makeup looked nice before we came out here.”

“I bet! The rain’s probably washing it all way, did I look like I was crying?”

“You looked like you were sobbing.”

She laughed, “You love to see it, you really do.”

The music was basically drowned out by the rain. It was on her phone, so it was probably water damaged from the rain, but no one cared. They just wanted to have fun.

But the dancing got tired because of the fact that Y/N was in heels, so she went and picked up her phone. It wasn’t damaged. She looked at her recent texts while Jason tugged her lightly to the bathroom, to see that Bruce Wayne, Jason’s dad, had paid off her car and it was being driven back to her house.

“Hey baby?”

“Y/N?”

“Did you tell your dad to pay off my car?”

“Oh, yeah. I figured it’d get impounded and my dad could just wait a while for you to pay back. It getting impounded was going to cost you more money.”

“God you're right and I hate that.”

He laughed and kissed her before turning on the shower.

--------------------------------------------

That was the second time that day that they had had sex. It was impressive that they had had sex that many times, and that many rounds. They thought it was fun as all hell to have sex whenever they had the chance.

Maybe they were saying “Suck it” to Bruce, or maybe they were just having fun. Maybe it was both.

“You look so cute with my hand around your neck,” he said behind her before lightly grabbing her neck and pulling her head back to his chest. He buried his face in her shoulder.

“He says while looking down,” she joked.

“I’ll squeeze.”

“Jay, we just showered. C’mon. Keep it in your pants.”

He groaned, “No fun,” he tilted his head into the crook of her neck and started leaving little kisses.

“Jay, C’mon.”

He sighed, “Fine. Fine, fine, fine. I guess we can stop,” he jokingly-whined at her, “At least we can kiss.”

“That’s true, but get dressed.”

“Get dressed!” he whined to her, “In this economy!”

“God dammnit,” she laughed, “Stay naked then and I’ll eat your food.”

“Don’t you dare.”

#dcu #dceu #dc #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood fluff #male oc #female oc

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nerdycanible1 · 4 years ago

Text

Lin's Broken Heart

⚠️Note⚠️:This is my interpretation of what had happened between Suyin and Lin. I want you to know that this will have mentions of suicide. So please do not read it.

Summary: Lin Beifong grew up in a chaotic household. She believes she's not good enough and is hurting but doesn't understand why. This is a story of her time growing with Toph and Suyin. Please note that this is a sad story. ÒwÒ please don't hate me qwq.

Words: 2,740 words 14,375 characters

((Sorry for the spelling errors.))

⚠️Read at your own risk⚠️

As strong, and amazing Lin Beifong was, she was still human. She still had nightmares, she has trouble sleeping and there are times she doesn't eat.

Lin was a woman that was always meant to be strong, to be powerful and to never show weakness. People think she's so powerful they believe words won't hurt or or nothing can break her.

But what they didn't know was that Lin has always suffered from depression. At a young age, she was happy at times and other times she wasn't.

It started when she began to realize that her uncle Sokka wasn't her dad. She noticed all the kids in school had a mother and a father.

She remembered the kids gushing about their father's and felt like there was something wrong with her. People teased her and often said hurtful things just because she didn't have a dad.

She remembered her mother always brushing the topic off as if it were no big deal. Told her that her father was just some poor smuck that wasn't ready. It may not have been a huge thing for Toph but it was for Lin.

Anything to do with father's, she began to resent. She even stopped calling Sokka dad and started calling him uncle.

The second incident was when she couldn't grasp metalbending. She was so stressed and tired. Her mom spent a whole week calling her weak, telling her that she got it just after a couple of hours.

Soon 3 weeks passed and Lin still didn't bend the metal. Her mother walked away pissed. Lin stood in the court yard with huge tears in her eyes and sniffled. The 8 year old could only handle so much.

At the end of the month Toph deemed her training over. She patted her shoulder and sighed. "Not everyone is meant to bend metal kid." And with that Toph walked quietly into the house ready to give up teaching Lin.

Lin whimpered and collapsed to her knees. Night after night she prayed to the spirits, and had asked them for help. Asked them to have her mom be proud of her. And here she was with her mothers back to her.

Lin was 9 years old when she began to bend and her uncle Sokka took her out to go eat. Toph said she had a case to go over and only said "Congrats kid."

Lin felt numb and just sad. She held her uncle Sokka and tried to keep her smile on for him. After all, who would want to care for a whimpy child.

When Su began to show signs of being an Earthbender, Toph immediately called off work and said it was important. Toph spent quality time with Suyin and began to show her how to bend.

Lin only watched from her training on how her mother applauded Suyin and lifted her up saying how proud she was. Lin couldn't help but think Toph had another child because Lin was incompetent.

Suyin was 6 and a half years old when she began to metalbend. She remembered Toph dropping everything just to see Suyin herself. Lin was teasing her sister saying she couldn't metalbend till she was older and here they were with a prodigal sister that bent metal on her first try.

She watched as Toph threw a party and celebrated with everyone and how Suyin was able to metalbend. Lin didn't go to the celebration. Instead, Tenzin took her out to meet the bisons. Oogi seemed rather protective of Lin and took a liking to her.

Lin couldn't complain much about her childhood. She had a home, food on her table, a nice bed and even a great education. Everytime she felt sad or angry her mother told her that some kids had less. That some kids would happily take her place.

It wasn't what Lin needed to hear, it was just another reminder that Suyin was basically a replacement for her.

She never told anyone her thoughts. Never told anyone on how much she was suffering because she thought she was being irrational. There were times she cried herself to sleep, there were times she didn't eat her food. And there were times she had nightmares but never told anyone.

Lin was just a little girl suffering because she didn't know what she deserved. Lin had always felt guilty for crying too much, she knew it was impractical to cry because she was sad.

People often wondered why she cried when she was angry and wondered why she always got into fights. After her mother stopped coming to her school about her having another fight, Lin knew she needed to change.

Lin being the way she was expected to change over night. She made sure she did everything in school, stayed away from bullies and even began to take extra classes.

She went from being one of the worst students in her school to one of the top testers. If she couldn't be good at metal bending then she could be better at academics.

Tenzin saw how sad Lin was and every time he brought it up, Lin would fight him. Every time Kya tried to bring it up Lin would snap at her. And every time Bumi brought it up Lin stayed quiet.

They of course saw the difference between the sisters. How they fought constantly. How they were both different people. They kissed the care free Lin. They missed her so kuch that they even kidnapped Lin just so they can hang out.

By the time Lin was 16 she was young to be moved up to a high grade so she could graduate early. She showed her grades to her mother, told her the good news and all Toph said was "That's great Lin. Can you you make you and your sisters dinner tonight?"

◇◇◇

Lin knew she was being pretty but she was jealous of her younger sister. She was able to make friends easily, was able to fight and managed a B average. That is until her sister began to skip school.

Lin began to notice the change, how her sister would give her snide remarks or how she would start trying on makeup. Whenever Lin brought it up to her mother, her mother would say "I didn't even go to school."

Lin began to set a curfew for her sister to be home. It work for only a few weeks before her sister didn't even listen to her. Since Toph never backed her up Suyin began to say that no one was the boss of her.

Lin tried many times to tell her mother that Su was sneaking around with guys that were years older. Told her that it was dangerous for her to be out in the dark of night.

Toph always said, "Well she's a big girl, she can fight." Or "So what? Not like she would care anyways." Or "Tenzin's older than you and yet you're dating him. And don't act like you're miss pure, you snuck out to Airtemple Island."

No matter how hard she tried to get it through her mothers head, Toph didn't listen and neither did Su.

Lin would stay up for hours and hours only to have Suyin come back late.

Suyin was 15 when she first came home intoxicated. Lin was so worried for her only to have her sister stumbled through the door with a help of two boys that were clearly older than 18.

Lin made them scram and sat with her sister helping her sickness. It was around 5 in the morning Suyin had come, and Lin had a long two days at work and now she was up and taking care of her sick sister.

She sat in the living room in the dark. She had a bottle of her mothers stash in her hand and she drinking it down. Suyin was throwing her life away and Toph didn't care.

She sat there in the dark wondering if her mother even cared. By the time Lin had woken up it was noon. She sat up with a groan and slowly got off the couch.

"And how many boys did you beat?" Toph asked as she and Suyin cooked breakfast.

Suyin giggled. "5. I drank half a bottle of vodka before they quit."

Toph gasped and laughed. "Well you sure are your mothers daughter." She grinned. "Don't tell your sister that you can drink more than her." She whispered.

Lin watched them before she sat the bottle down and headed to her room. It was enough to see that her mother had yet let Suyin do whatever she wanted.

She laid in bed not even changing and just laid against her wall. There was a knock on her door. "Breakfast is made Lin." She called out.

Lin didn't answer and just held her pillow as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. "Come on you slept in all day. You should be awake." She yelled.

Lin continued to ignore her. "Just let her pout. Now come on tell me what else had happened."

Suyin stared at her sisters door and frowned gently. She was wondering if it was her mom that helped her through her bad hang over or if it was Lin.

By the end of the night Lin had her window opened. She listened to the city sounds and just looked at the twinkling lights. She took a drag of her cigarette and just released it.

A small gasp was heard and Lin turned to look over to see Suyin. "I... didn't know you... smoked."

Lin rolled her eyes and put it out. "What does it matter. None of you guys know anything." Lin muttered as she stood up.she walked over to her closet and grabbed a bag and began to fill it.

Suyin frowned at the attitude and crossed her arms. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Lin waved her off and began to look through her clothes. "Nothing. What do you want? Do you need me to cook or something?"

Suyin shook her head and frowned. "I just... I came to say thank you." She mumbled.

Lin raised a brow and looked at her. "For what?" She asked as she grabbed a pair of clothing.

"For taking care of me last night. I wanted to... say I was sorry for coming home that late." She mumbled as she waited for Lin to lash out at her.

Lin looked at her and looked away. "Well it sure saved you from a hangover."

Suyin blinked in surprise from the lack of yelling or Lin's attitude. She was relieved but then upset at the same time. "Are you okay? You... don't seem like yourself?"

Lin grabbed another cigarette and lit it up feeling a bit anxious. "I'm fine. Nothing to worry about." She took a drag and leaned against the wall.

"You don't seem okay. Is there anything I can do?" Suyin was genuinely worried about her sister. All their lives they kept each other at a distance but that didn't mean she didn't care for her sister. There were times they slept together and times Lin would laugh with her. They uses to be so close.

Lin looked at her and gave a smile with no emotion. "I'll stop." She finally spoke. "I'll stop the nagging. I won't wait up for you anymore." Lin swallowed roughly and closed her eyes.

"I can't do it anymore. You don't listen to me and mom doesn't seem to care." Lin laughed softly and shook her head. "Do what you want Su." She finished her cigarette and grabbed her bag. Tossing in some of her sleeping medication and other pills Suyin didn't know Lin took.

Suyin watched her sister shocked. She hasn't seen look this emotionless before. All the times she's seen her, she was agitated, mad or even smiling. This wasn't the Lin she knew.

"Lin?" She asked hopeless. "Where are you going?" She asked noticing the bag.

Lin walked past her and stopped at her door. She stopped and placed her favourite bracelet on Su's arm. "Hopefully to finally get some sleep." She kissed her her head and hugged her. "A long sleep, I'm tired."

Su hugged her back but couldn't shake the feeling at the back of her head. Why... did this feel like a goodbye? "You're going to come back right?" Su asked shaken up, tears already forming in her eyes.

Lin smiled and ksised her forehead and nodded. "Don't worry about it. I just need sleep." Was all she said. She ruffled her hair. "Goodnight Su." And with that Lin began to head out.

Lin stopped at her mother room to see her sleeping. Lin smiled and placed two pieces of wood down. Each a carving Lin made of herself and Su. "Night mom." Lin whispered.

Suyin watched her exit the house, Lin seemed oddly quiet. She looked at the house once more before she smiled and closed the door. "Goodbye." Lin whispered.

◇◇◇

"HOW COULD YOU!!?" Suyin screamed. Tears were gliding down her cheeks as Suyin began to try and hit Lin. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" Loud high pitched wails left Su's mouth as she tried to attack her sister.

Toph held Suyin back as she was at a loss for words. A hard lump was in her throat and she didn't say anything.

Lin laid in the hospital bed still feeling numb. Tears streamed down her face as she stared at her family blankly. Flashes of that night replayed in her head and she grit her teeth.

"Why would you do it!! You promised you'd come back!" Suyin said as she was finally getting tired. Suyin yelled at her for over and an hour and her mom had yet said anything. Suyin soon fell to the floor as she held her hands to the floor as she just cried.

Lin released a small sob as she covered her face. "I just wanted sleep." She said with a shaky breath. "I just wanted to sleep." She whimpered.

Toph stood there feeling her younger daughter tremble and cry her heart out and listened to her oldest daughter cry in pain. How did she not notice this? Her daughters heart has been broken for a very long time. How could she not have noticed?

Toph lifted up her daughter slowly and rubbed Suyin's trembling back. "I uhh..." Toph swallowed roughly. "I'm sorry kiddo. I really am." And with that she left the room to bring Suyin home.

It was a couple weeks when Lin was let out of the hospital. She was given some medication and of course wine for hysteria. Lin was to excersize every day, be put on a healthy diet and to drink 3 glasses of wine at night.

Lin was sitting in her room as Kya came over to help clean out Lin's room and help her move to air temple island. Suyin had yet to talk to Lin, Toph didn't seem to come out of her room till Lin was passed out. And whenever they were in the same room everyone was walking on eggshells around her.

Tenzin rubbed Lin's back and kissed her temple. "Let's go Lin." Tenzin coddled. Ever since the incident it was like everyone was afraid to say anything or touch Lin.

Lin sipped her wine quietly as she stared out at the city. She swore to everyone that she was fine when in reality she was dying inside. She knew now that everyone hated her even more so she promised that she would stay alive.

Not just for the sake of your family but the city. In the hospital Lin saw many different people. Some homeless, others single parents, soem kids. They were all different and then the same. They all needed help. Lin's problems weren't even a fraction of the peoples. And here she was, with a family that loved her, a beautiful home, a paying job.

She promised she would take care of the city. If not for herself. Then for the people. She swallowed roughly her wine and stood up feeling woozy. Lin wasn't one for alcohol and having to drink it every day was rather intense.

She slowly wobbled to her bed and sunk into it with a sigh. She had to get better for the city. She promised herself that.

#atla #legendofkorra #avatarthelastairbender #lok #Beifong #toph beifong #suyin beifong #lin beifong #tenzin #sad fanfiction #sad beans #tw suicude #im sorry #nerds #family heart break #family

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years ago

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Conversations in the Dark

Pairing: Tyson Jost x OC!female

Summary: Fiona Gatwood and her mother move to Canada after a nasty divorce and end up moving in beside the Jost family. Quiet Fiona takes a liking to the sweet, outgoing boy, Tyson, next door and the rest is history.

Word Count: 8k+

A/N: This is literally just tooth-rotting sweetness of a childhood friends to lovers trope. No warnings except maybe some curses and the mention of a shitty father, though it’s more of a subplot than anything. By the way, this is based off the song Conversations in the Dark by John Legend!!!!! Go listen. It makes my heart melt! (And, as always, let me know what you think! ILY)

Age 10

“Talk, let's have conversations in the dark. World is sleeping, I'm awake with you.”

Fiona Gatwood was whispering. She was whispering and her mother couldn’t believe it.

It had been days since Diana last heard her daughter’s voice, but it was clear as day through the wood door her ear was pressed against. She knew that it was nearly 1 a.m. and the longer she let her stay up, the crankier she’d be in the morning, but she didn’t want to stop her baby from talking.

The past year had been a nightmare for the two. Between an ugly divorce, a custody battle, and a move from the States to Canada, Fiona hardly spoke anymore. Except she did speak to one person consistently, and it was the boy next door.

When his mother mentioned how talkative the two kids could be, Diana laughed, “Fi? Talkative?” Just behind the front door, Tyson and Fiona sat in front of the television, distracted by Disney Channel.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, Diana,” Laura spoke through her smile. “The two of them are non-stop.”

But, now, she believed it because she was hearing it first-hand.

“Tyson, go to sleep,” Fiona whispered. “My mom is going to wake us up soon.”

“No, she’s not,” Tyson whispered back. The floorboard squeaked beneath him as he moved to see the alarm clock. “It’s only 12:47 a.m.”

“And we’re leaving at 5:30 a.m. That’s in five hours,” Fiona spoke. Tyson sighed loudly and Diana could hear him lay back down in the sleeping bag on the floor. “You’re not mad at me, right?”

“Of course not,” Tyson spoke. There was a moment of silence that followed, then a loud sigh. “You’re right. We should go to bed. I just like talking to you.”

Diana’s heart clenched in her chest at the sweetness of the exchange, at the way Tyson treated Fiona. He understood her. He saw her quirks and he accepted them without a thought.

“I like talking to you, too.”

“I wish you’d talk more at school.”

“Why?”

“Because more people would be friends with you,” he said softly, like he was scared to tell Fiona the truth.

In return, she released a soft breath and responded, “I know.”

Diana rapped her knuckles against the door and the kids pretended like they were already fast asleep, earning a laugh from her. “I know you two are awake, but it’s time for bed now,” she said. “We’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Gatwood.”

“It’s okay, Tys,” she said. She looked at Fiona before turning out of the room. Her hands were tucked beneath her head as she gazed up at her. Diana willed her to speak before walking out the door, but nothing came and she looked away. “Okay, goodnight, kiddos.”

She stepped out into the hallway and shut the door quietly behind her, holding the knob as she leaned her forehead against it in disappointment. There was a soft thud from inside and the sound of a child’s ‘ow’. And then, “Goodnight, Mom.”

Age 15

“Watch movies that we've both already seen. I ain't even looking at the screen, it's true. I got my eyes on you.”

Fiona was going to her first-ever co-ed birthday party and she couldn’t stop thinking about it ever since rumors about spin the bottle began. She’d never been kissed and, quite frankly, didn’t think it would happen during a game of spin the bottle. Tyson, on the other hand, had been happily egging on the spin the bottle conversation. He was a boy, after all, and he also wasn’t worried about his first kiss because he already got it.

Tyson giggled at the movie they were watching, bringing her attention back to the present. It was the third time they’d watched Ted that week, if their moms knew they’d kill them, but they always kept it quiet. At that point, Tyson could quote it and most other days, she’d be quoting it right along with him, but not that night. She had too much on her mind.

“Tys, what if I’m not a good kisser?”

He almost laughed, but the pure nervousness etched across her features made him stop himself. “I mean,” he trailed off, eyes trailing over her facial features to get a good read on what she was feeling. “You’re probably not going to be bad.”

“What do I do with my hands?”

“Your hands? What do you mean?” he asked. She sighed loudly, reaching out to grab the remote and pause the movie they were watching. “You don’t have to do anything with your hands.”

“They said we might play seven minutes in heaven.”

“No one ever actually does anything during seven minutes in heaven.”

“You don’t know that,” she grunted. “What if one of the guys wants to do something? What if they want to make out? I’ve never even been kissed. I’m going to embarrass myself.”

Tyson usually had solutions to most of Fiona’s problems, or at least he’d have the words to reassure her, but he was at a loss. The first, and only, idea he had was that he could kiss her just to help her get it out of the way, but he stopped himself from offering that option. Fiona, however, noticed the metaphorical lightbulb that went off over his head and began to pry.

“What are you thinking?”

“I could kiss you,” he offered. “Your first kiss shouldn’t be with someone you don’t want it to be with and I know you’re not crazy about all the guys going, so I can help you get it out of the way.”

“You don’t think that’d be weird?” she asked, fingers curling around the blanket that was strewn across their laps.

“I mean, we don’t have crushes on each other or anything,” he murmured. “We’re best friends, nothing more, so it’s whatever. You just can’t overthink it.”

Fiona didn’t answer right away and her hesitation cued Tyson to play the movie once more while she thought it over. Not five minutes later, she paused it again.

“Okay, let’s just get it over with.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” she answered. “I trust you.”

Tyson leaned in tentatively, watching her carefully as her eyes fluttered shut and she puckered her lips. He smiled softly to himself before closing his own eyes and closing the gap between them. Their lips barely touched before they were pulling away at the feeling of a quick electric shock against their lips.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, tips of her fingers brushing along the place his lips had just touched. Tyson’s did the same. “You shocked me.”

“You shocked me!”

They giggled together, any awkwardness that could’ve came from that little kiss dissipating before it even came to fruition.

“Do you, uh, want to try again?” he asked. He felt his heart hammering in his chest and did his best to ignore it. This wasn’t his first kiss by any means, but it sort of felt like it was by the way his stomach was turning.

“Um, yeah, sure.”

“Okay,” he whispered. He lifted a hand to her cheek and cupped it as he leaned in. “Don’t shock me.”

“I’ll try not to,” she responded with a giggle. Tyson laughed, a tuft of his chocolate candy-smelling breath fanned across her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut again, but this time Tyson didn’t close his right away. He pressed his lips to hers and then closed his eyes as she shaped her lips to fit his and reached up to place her own hand against his jaw.

The kiss only lasted a moment more. As they pulled away, they met each other’s eyes with a shocked expression.

“We kissed.”

“We did,” Tyson confirmed, nodding his head as his tongue swiped along his bottom lip and tugged it between his teeth. She could’ve sworn his cheeks were a little bit pink and she felt the warmth of his cheek just under her thumb where it rested on his cheek. “Um, and that’s the perfect place for your hand, by the way.”

She nodded obediently before dropping her hand back into her lap. Though they turned back to the television and played the movie, Tyson couldn’t bring himself to quote it any longer, mind too preoccupied on the moment they just shared. Fiona, on the other hand, felt better and she’d begun quoting the lines he failed to speak.

Age 16

“And you say that you're not worth it. You get hung up on your flaws. Well, in my eyes you are perfect as you are. I will never try to change you, change you. I will always want the same you, same you”

Fiona was crushing on Tyson’s teammate hard. He thought it was obvious, what with the way her cheeks flushed the moment he walked into the room, but everyone else was clueless about her little crush.

Though the two of them were closer than they’d ever been before, her crush on Tommy Abbott was a secret she didn’t share with Tyson. She’d never liked any of his teammates before, and she wasn’t planning to start. Tyson would never let her hear the end of it, especially if he found out Abbott was the crush, so she kept her mouth shut.

But Tyson knew her too well and it only took a few weeks for him to catch on.

The two of them were standing at Tyson’s locker after school just before parting ways as he went off to practice and she headed home. A few of his teammates walked by, waving on their way to the locker room as they passed. Tyson watched as Fiona’s cheeks blushed.

He watched your eyes follow Tommy Abbott down the hall and out of sight, jaw dropping in shock at his revelation.

“Fi?” he called. She looked back at him, wide eyed. “Do you have a crush on Thomas Abbott?”

“You can’t tell a soul,” she warned, jabbing a finger into his chest. He was a solid foot taller than her at that point, but he still obeyed her command. “If anyone on your team finds out, I’ll kill you.”

“Fiona,” he sighed, reaching up to pull her finger away from his chest. He dropped it at her side. “I have kept every single secret you’ve ever told me. This one is just joining the others in the vault. I promise.”

Keeping that secret was, naturally, one of the easiest things Tyson ever had to do. But then, Tommy Abbott was sharing the same sentiments.

“Josty, wait up!” he called as he jogged after Tyson in the school hallway. Tys slowed to a stop, welcoming smile on his face.

“What’s up, dude?”

“I was just, uh, wondering,” Tommy began. “About you and Fiona Gatwood.”

Tyson’s eyebrows raised at the statement.

“Fi’s just my best friend. Nothing more. Why?”

“Oh, well, I was thinking about asking her out,” he murmured, kicking his toe into the tiled floor. “She’s in my English class and I just think she’s cute.”

“She is!” Tyson exclaimed, maybe a bit too excitedly. He lowered his voice when he began talking again. “Like, she’s really cute and I’ll bet she thinks your cute, too.”

“Really?”

“For sure,” he said with a nod. “You should ask her out.”

Within days, Tommy Abbott had both asked Fiona out and planned their first date. But Tyson was the one that hung out with her while she got ready. He listened to her chatter on nervously about what her expectations were, and talked her down when she almost decided to cancel. Then, as any fifteen year old date would go, Diana drove Fiona to drop her off at the movies to meet Tommy.

He never showed.

Tyson showed up to practice the next morning with a scowl on his face. He entered the locker room and marched right up to Tommy Abbott, slamming his locker closed as he pulled his hand out with his jersey. Tommy knew what he did wrong, but he didn’t step down or apologize. He stated simply, “Dude, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”

“So why did you ask her out?”

“It was just a joke,” he said, reopening his locker to cover Tyson’s face. Tyson slammed it shut again. “You should’ve known that, Josty. C’mon, it’s just a bit of fun between teammates.”

“You hurting her really isn’t my idea of fun.”

“She was hurt?” he asked, though he looked unapologetic. “Listen, she’s not the type of girl that guys like me, or you for that matter, date. Don’t act like your surprised.”

Tyson was a little more aggressive than usual that practice, slamming Tommy into the boards every chance he got. He left practice faster than everyone else, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to just get to Fiona and make everything better.

As if she knew he’d be on his way too her, she was sitting on the porch waiting for him.

“Hi.”

“Fi, I need you to know that every single one of those guys are assholes, even the ones who weren’t involved,” he grunted as he hustled up the steps. She giggled softly at his dramatics, knowing that there was a handful of innocent guys on the team. Tyson plopped down beside her on the porch swing. “They all suck. All of them.”

“You don’t have to talk about your teammates like that,” she sighed. “Honestly, I’m nuts for thinking he was even into me in the first place. I’m not the kind of girl guys like him go after.”

Tyson stomach turned. It was almost exactly the same thing Tommy had said earlier and it only mad him angrier hearing it come from her.

“You don’t get it,” he groaned. “You are too good for guys like him.”

“I spend most of my time with my nose in a book, you’re my voice when I don’t want to speak which is a whole lot, and I’m not popular by any means,” she listed off. Tyson listened intently, listened to her spew out insecurities left and right. “I get these nasty pimples on my chin, and I come from a broken home, and I just—I don’t belong to anything.”

“Stop talking,” Tyson snapped. “Do you even hear yourself? How are you not mad at yourself for talking like that?”

Fiona stared at him, mouth open as if waiting for permission to spew out the next insult to herself.

“You are the best person I know. It wouldn’t matter if you were athletic and popular or a troll under a bridge. You have the best,” he paused, pondering his next word, and then said, “You have the best soul. You should never change for anyone because you’re perfect just the way you are. You’re Fiona. You don’t need to be anyone else.”

Fiona’s lips formed a perfect ‘o’ as she found herself at a loss for words once again, but this time it wasn’t her shyness that was the reason. It was the shock at the words tumbling from Tyson’s lips. His cheeks were red and he was still breathing a little heavily because of the flood of compliments, but then he cracked a smile.

“That was profound, Tys,” she said softly, smile coming to her own lips. “Thank you.”

“I mean every bit of it,” he said. His mother called him from his own porch and he leaned in to place a soft kiss against her temple. “I’ll always want the same Fiona. Please don’t change.”

Age 18

“Swear on everything I pray to that I won't break your heart.”

Fiona loved her birthday because her birthday meant Funfetti pancakes in the morning and presents after dinner. But, most of all, Fiona loved her birthday because her father called, no matter how long it’d been since the last time they spoke.

On the day of her eighteenth birthday, Tyson was a few hours away at a tournament. It was the first birthday since they were ten years old that they’d spend away from each other. There was, however, one way he’d make it home and that meant losing a few games for an early exit.

Now, I’m not saying Tyson purposely lost the game, but his mind wasn’t in it. Sure enough, he was bounding up the driveway to Fiona’s front door that night with her birthday gift stuffed in the backpack on his back.

After a somewhat frantic knock, Diana opened the door to the curly-haired boy from next door.

“Oh, Tys,” she sighed. Her voice sounded a little sad and Tyson’s brows knit together in confusion at the lack of pep in her step. “Fi is downstairs.”

The basement was dark. The low hum of acoustic music got louder as he continued down the stairs. He found Fiona with a blanket over her head and wrapped around her shoulders. She managed a smile when he entered, but it didn’t meet her eyes. Tyson approached, grabbing another blanket from the end of the couch and wrapping himself just like her as he sat.

“My dad didn’t call,” she offered, knowing the question that was sitting on his tongue before he even uttered it. Tyson watched her as she stared blankly at the wall across from them. He noticed a streak along her cheek from where a tear had fallen and frowned.

“Well, that doesn’t mean he won’t call tomorrow,” he spoke softly.

She began to cry. Everything she’d been feeling for months came crashing down and she started to sob into the blanket she’d so carefully wrapped around her body. Tyson slid down the couch, arm wrapping around her shoulder to pull her into his side. He said nothing, only listened to the sniffling coming from his best friend until she was ready to speak again.

“I haven’t talked to him in a year.”

“I thought he called last month.”

“I lied,” she sighed, rubbing her teary eyes with the heel of her hand. “I didn’t want to talk about it.”

Tyson’s heart sank as his grip tightened around Fiona’s shoulders.

“You know that I wouldn’t have made you talk about it until you were ready,” he whispered. She looked up at him, eyes still watery, and released a quivering sigh. And then she dropped her forehead against his shoulder.

Fiona was having a hard time saying it out loud honestly. She didn’t want to admit to the Universe that her own father had ghosted her for the second time since her parents’ divorce. The first was immediately after, and he promised it would never happen again. But now, 365 days had gone by without a phone call or a text. He didn’t even bother to send money like he’d grown accustomed to whenever he messed up.

“It feels like it’s for good,” she mumbled. Both of Tyson’s arms wrapped around her then to tug her into his chest as he leaned against the back of the couch. She went with him, collapsing against his chest. He kicked his legs up, and hers went with them. They laid together for a while before Tyson’s thoughts wandered to the gift in his bag.

“I have your gift,” he spoke, lifting his head just a bit to look down at her. She met his eyes with a smile. He motioned for her to sit up and then he stood to grab his bag from where he dropped it at the bottom of the stairs. As he fished it from beneath a sweatshirt, he felt his stomach turn.

This was nothing new, but the gift he bought her this year held weight to it.

With the NHL draft coming up, it was easy to see the end of their days as neighbors. Eight years of friendship, of sleepovers and birthdays and sitting on the front porch waiting for the other to come home was coming to an end. So, Tyson wanted to do something special. He wanted to give her something better than postcards, and souvenirs from different cities he’d been to.

“What is this?” she asked the moment he placed the paper in her hand. It was a rhetorical question. She knew exactly what it was. Her fingers danced along the destination on the ticket as she gazed up at Tyson. He smiled coyly.

“Tickets to Banff,” he said. “I already talked to your mom about it. She said it was cool. My mom and Kacey are coming with us.”

“Tyson, this is insane,” she stated. She shoved the paper back into his hands. “This is too much. I don’t deserve this.”

“It’s not too much,” he said, almost defensively. He grabbed her hand and placed the paper back into her palm. “Stop saying things like that. You deserve this and so much more, okay? I don’t want to hear you say that ever again.”

“Tys—”

“Please, let me do this for you,” he pleaded. Her lip quivered as she gazed back at the paper in her hand. “I just want to make you happy.”

She met his eyes and felt like she was going to melt beneath his gaze.

“You do,” she told him with certainty. He released a sigh of relief, smile coming back to his lips as he sat beside her again. “You might be the only guy, including my father, who hasn’t broken my heart. Good for you.”

“Well, lucky for both of us, I never plan on doing that.”

“I'll be there when you get lonely, lonely. Keep the secrets that you told me, told me. And your love is all you owe me. And I won't break your heart”

A few weeks later, while the two of them laid head-to-toe on a hammock outside their cabin, Tyson spoke, “I wish this never had to end.”

“You don’t mean that,” Fiona said with a giggle, foot nudging Tyson in the ribs. He wrapped his hand around her ankle and tugged playfully. “You’re about to be an NHL star.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked though he already knew Fiona would say yes. She nodded, naturally. “I don’t know if I’m ready for any of it. I don’t know if I’m ready to play in the NHL.”

Fiona sat up immediately and sputtered, “Tys, are you—are you crazy? This is exactly what you’ve been working towards your entire life. You’re more than ready. You’ve been ready.”

Tyson’s laugh filled the air, light and airy at her pep talk.

“It’s going to be different, though,” he said, fingers picking at the lint on the hammock. “I’m not going to be near you anymore.”

“You could always end up in Edmonton.”

“Imagine,” he said dreamily. She followed his gaze to the stars in the sky. “It’s not going to happen, but it would be pretty cool.”

“It would be,” she said. “But there are other cool places you could end up, and that just means I get more free vacations out of you.”

“You can have all the free vacations you want,” he promised. Her giggle was contagious, filling the yard along with the sounds of crickets and the wind. Tyson smiled at her, soaking up this moment and wishing it could last forever. He sighed heavily. “I don’t know how to function without you, Fi.”

She curled her fingers around his wrist and yanked him to sit up and look at her.

“I’m literally not going anywhere. All you have to do is call me and it’ll feel like we’re still together, okay?”

“It’s going to be different.”

“Sure, it will be,” she said. “But different doesn’t always mean bad.”

“I know,” he murmured. She smiled softly at him, and he returned one to her. Neither could stop gazing at the other, thoughts swirling in their heads faster than they could make sense of them. She felt it then. Fiona felt the first tinge of change between them when his eyes dipped from her eyes to her lips for a moment, but she forced it out of her mind.

“Thank you again,” she spoke. “For the trip.”

“Of course,” he said. He fell back onto the hammock and gazed up at the stars, unaware that Fiona still couldn’t take her eyes off him. She turned and moved so that she could place her head on his chest. Tyson’s hands came up and around her, pulling her into his warm body. He placed a soft kiss against the top of her head and wondered if she could feel his heart beating beneath his chest.

She could.

Age 21

“On Sunday mornings we sleep-in 'til noon. Well, I can sleep forever next to you. And we got places we both gotta be. But there ain't nothing I would rather do then blow off all my plans for you.”

Tyson’s eyes fluttered open to the sight of Fiona’s sleeping face against the pillow beside him. She was snoring softly and the hair that had fallen in her face overnight moved with every breath she released. He reached out and brushed the hair behind her ear softly enough not to disturb her.

When Tyson saw a free weekend on his schedule, he immediately booked a flight to visit Fiona. It was the first trip he was making to her university. After the draft, Tyson felt the pressure to perform well and, in turn, his relationships took a backseat until the off-season. So, the two of them enjoyed their time during the summers until he left for Denver and she left for school. But this year, things were different. He felt more secure in himself and his spot on the team, so he carved out some time to see Fiona.

Things never changed between them. They were still peas in a pod, and they both understood that it was hard to keep in touch with so much going on in their lives. They made time for each other once a week whether it be through Facetime calls before bed, or phone calls as Fiona drove home from work. They were still the same.

But then he visited her and something shifted.

“So, this is the Tyson we hear so much about?”

He must’ve heard statements like that every twenty minutes and, each time, he caught the blush that rose to Fiona’s cheeks before she suppressed it with another swig of her drink. Her friends were whispering amongst themselves, pointedly gazing at him and the curl of Fiona’s fingers around his. He assumed they just didn’t get their friendship, but as the comments kept coming he began to wonder if there was something lying beneath the surface.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” she asked sometime before midnight. That question was one he’d become familiar with, but hearing Fiona ask made him feel things he’d never felt before. Her lips brushed against his ear as she asked and he felt goosebumps along every inch of his body as he nodded in response.

Nothing happened in the Uber, or after they devoured their late night snacks. But, as they got ready to sleep in her twin sized bed, an awkward tension settled between them that had never been there before.

“I’m sorry that it’s so small,” she said after they’d changed and brushed their teeth. “But, you know, college.”

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

“No,” she answered with pink cheeks, again.

When they got into bed, they lay facing each other and spent way too much time shooting the shit before she eventually nodded off. She rolled onto her other side and, as Tyson sat there trying his best not to fall off the other side, she reached over and wrapped his arm around her so that they were spooning.

Throughout the night, they’d moved, but her legs were still intertwined with his beneath the comforter. She finally stirred and, without opening her eyes, she inched towards him to wrap her arms around his waist and lean into his chest.

“Morning.”

“Good morning, Fi.”

He rubbed her back soothingly as she rested against him.

“I don’t really want to get up,” she admitted softly.

He chuckled. “Me neither.”

“Let’s just stay in bed,” she proposed, leaning back to look up at him.

“Don’t we have brunch plans with your friends?” he asked. She groaned, dropping her head back against the pillow in frustration. He leaned up on his elbow and loomed over her with a grin. “You made the plans. We could’ve just laid in bed all day, but you wanted to show me off to your friends.”

Fiona shoved his chest lightly and with a smile, then rolled over to grab her phone from the nightstand. In just a few taps, she was calling one of the girls. The sound of the ringing felt loud in the otherwise quiet apartment and then, finally, her friend’s voice came through.

“Good morning, sleepy head! How was your night with Tyson?” her friend sang.

Fiona sat up abruptly, lowering the volume on the phone as she brushed her off, “It was fine. Hey, we’re going to just make breakfast here, if you don’t mind. I know we were talking about doing brunch.”

“Fiona, are you bailing so you can have sex?”

Tyson couldn’t help but laugh as Fiona sprang out of bed and slipped into the hallway. Once she was out of earshot, she tore into her friend, “It’s not like that.”

“It is so like that, Fiona,” she argued. “He’s smitten with you.”

“He’s just my best friend.”

“He’s something more.”

“Rain check on brunch,” she urged. There was giggling on the other end of the phone, so frustrated, Fiona grunted, “Goodbye.”

“You should kiss h—”

The door swung open before she could open it and Tyson was standing in the doorway with a wicked smile on his lips. He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her waist to throw her over his shoulder.

“If you wanted to have sex, you could’ve just asked,” he teased. She smacked his back as he carried her down the hall, smiling all the while at his laughter. When he dropped her onto the kitchen floor, he told her to sit and tell him about school while he made breakfast. So, she did. And Tyson listened to every single word that came out of her mouth happily.

“When no one seems to notice and your days, they seem so hard. My darling, you should know this; My love is everywhere you are.”

Tyson left Fiona’s apartment and, every day after, she missed him.

It wasn’t like she didn’t miss him before. It’s just that it was worse than it was before. It was worse now that her friends had met him and he charmed the pants off them. It was worse now that the smell of his cologne lingered on her sheets.

He never used to affect her like this, and honestly, she didn’t want him to affect her like this. There was too much at stake.

Some months passed after his visit and it felt like everything was falling apart. He was busy, busier than ever before, and she was lost. Graduation was approaching and she was not having a successful job search. Not even by a mile. After yet another rejection letter (this time from her dream job), Fiona called the only person she wanted to talk to.

When Tyson answered her phone call, she was sobbing.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he murmured into the speaker as he paused the music that had been playing over the speakers in his room. He sat up attentively, listening to the sniffling on the other end of the phone. “What’s going on, Fi?”

“I feel so alone.”

“Alone?” he repeated, eyebrows knitting together in confusion and fear. He hadn’t heard Fiona sound this sad in forever, and briefly he worried if he just hadn’t been listening. It had been a few months since he visited her at school and the two of them had gotten significantly busier in that time. “Fiona, what do you mean? You’re never alone.”

“I miss you and I miss my mom,” she whined. Her breath came out uneven, quivering as it filled the air. “And I’m so scared of the future.”

“Okay, that’s news to me,” he said, running a hand over his face. This was a problem he couldn’t fix for her. “I thought the place you’d been interning at was going to offer you something after graduation.”

“They just laid off half the department,” she told him. “No way they’re bringing me on.”

“Then, that’s their loss,” he began. “But you shouldn’t even be stressing out about this right now. You have, like, two months before graduation.” She sniffled again, this time a little more calmly than before. “Someone is going to hire you. You just have to keep looking. Besides, you have a kickass resume.”

“I’m surprised you even know what that is,” she teased quietly. He started laughing, grateful that she’d bounced back.

“Feeling good enough to be mean to me, huh?” he asked. “Now, what’s this about you missing me?” She could hear the smile in his voice and felt her cheeks warm. The tension in her shoulders disappeared almost immediately. “Tell me more about how much you miss me.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Apparently not annoying enough to not miss me.”

“I just feel like we’re so far apart,” she admitted. His smile fell. “Things have been different, right? I’m not crazy for thinking that?”

“What do you mean different?”

“You’ve just been so busy, and I feel like we don’t talk unless one of us needs to be talked off a ledge. And I know that we’re still best friends despite the amount of time we go without talking, but I just—I really miss you.”

“I miss you every day,” he said softly. And it wasn’t a lie. He thought about her every day since the last time they saw each other, even when he was kissing other people. “You don’t even know it.”

“I want to cuddle with you right now,” she said. “Just to calm down.”

“I wish I could be there,” he murmured. “But, even if I’m not there physically, I’m always with you. Even when we’re in completely different countries, I’m still your guy.”

“Thanks, Tys.”

He hummed in response, then the call was filled with a comfortable silence. She could hear him breathing on the other end, and he could hear her shuffling beneath the comforter of her bed. He could imagine her curled up with her pillow to her chest and found himself wishing he had a few days to sneak away and hold her.

Finally, after what seemed like eternity just sitting in silence, Tyson spoke, “If you really don’t know what you’re doing for work, you should look at jobs in Denver.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest at the mere mention of them in the same city again and she quickly sputtered out, “You’re crazy.”

“I am not,” he argued. “Think about how much fun it would be to live together. Honestly, you wouldn’t even have to pay rent.”

“I would pay rent,” she argued.

“Yeah, if I let you.”

“I’m not moving to Denver, Tyson,” she stated, matter-of-factly. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Fiona, you could never be a burden.”

Age 22

“I will never try to change you, change you. I will always want the same you, same you. Swear on everything I pray to that I won't break your heart.”

“Is this the last box?” Tyson asked, leaning into Fiona’s trunk to grab a box marked kitchen. She nodded and watched as he lifted it out before shutting the trunk behind him. She followed him into his apartment complex, well, their apartment complex, and breathed a sigh of relief at the move finally being final.

True to what she assumed, she was not offered a full-time job after interning, which meant her entire life was up in the air. Tyson took the opportunity to really convince her to move to Denver.

“What’s the worst that can happen?”

Truth be told, Fiona was nervous about the move. She didn’t know anyone in the city other than Tyson, and now JT Compher. She worried that she wouldn’t fit into his life here knowing that he hung out with Instagram models and professional athletes and other important people that she couldn’t hold a candle to. She felt inadequate, and the feeling that she’d be a burden to Tyson continued to haunt her.

“Your clothes boxes are in the guest room,” JT announced as soon as Fiona reentered the apartment behind Tyson. “And I started putting some of the groceries you brought away.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem,” he said with a smile. “I have to head out, but I’ll see you guys tonight.”

“Tonight?” Fi asked, eyes tracking Tyson’s movement across the living room. His cheeks flushed as he avoided eye contact. JT noticed the exchange and took the chance to say goodbye and slip out to the hallway. “Tyson, what is going on tonight?”

“It’s really not a big deal,” he murmured, finally meeting her eyes. “I just want you to meet a few people.” Her shoulders deflated. “They’re good people, I promise. They’re my friends, and you need friends other than me here.”

Tyson had a point, but it didn’t save her from her anxiety. It only made it worse.

They spent most of the day unpacking boxes and putting together furniture. They danced around the living room in sweats and fuzzy socks and ate the groceries she picked up on the way in, and most of all, they giggled at each other, happy to just be in each other’s presence. And this time, for good.

After dinner, they met some of his teammates and their girlfriends at a local bar. They were so nice that Fiona felt like she was a member of the group right away. Tyson stayed beside her, one hand on her back to keep her grounded in each conversation she joined. He knew that she was most comfortable when he was beside her.

She settled in nicely with Comph’s girlfriend and, while they giggled about stupid JT and Tyson stories, the boys went off to the bar for another round of drinks.

That’s when she showed up.

A group of girls around the same age as Tyson and Fiona showed up like they were on a mission. The moment they entered the bar, they seemed to divide and conquer. One of them, a petite brunette, made a beeline for Tyson.

“Who is that?” Fiona asked curiously.

“Her name’s Faith,” JT’s girlfriend answered. “She’s always around.”

Fiona watched the girl’s fingers trail up Tyson’s bicep, squeezing it just lightly as she leaned in and giggled at a joke of his. Fi felt a little sick looking at it, watching someone else capture Tyson’s attention like that.

“They’ve been hooking up,” she continued. “I don’t think he’s, like, actually into her.”

“It wouldn’t matter if he was,” Fiona said a little too quickly. She refocused her attention on the drink in her hand. The girls around exchanged knowing looks between each other and, though they thought Fiona wouldn’t notice, she did. She slipped out of the booth in pursuit of the bathroom because she was a short of breath and panicking slightly.

She locked herself in one of the stalls and tried to steady her breathing. She paced in the little space between the door and the toilet, trying to talk herself down from what she was feeling. And then Faith entered the bathroom like the whole scene was out of a movie.

“Apparently he’s here with some girl,” her friend was saying as they entered the bathroom. The one slipped into the other stall while the other stood at the sink.

“Oh, yeah,” she scoffed. “He pointed her out to me. Said they were roommates. He would never go for a girl like that. She’s not even close to as pretty as me.”

“You’re horrible,” her friend teased. The toilet flushed and she rejoined Faith at the mirror. “But you’re so right.”

Fiona peeked at them through the gaps in the door and watched as they reapplied their lipstick. These were the girls Tyson spent time with and the realization almost made her sick. Everything that she was worried about was coming to light. She was completely right.

“Time to get my man,” Faith sang. Her friend snickered and the two were off to find Tyson leaving Fiona to exit the bathroom stall and plan her exit strategy. She wanted to leave. She wanted to give Tyson the space to do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. But, she had no clue how to get around Denver.

She slipped out of the bathroom stall and weaved through the crowd that had gathered on the dancefloor to find the door. When the night air finally filled her longs, she released a relieved sigh and leaned up against the brick of the building.

It only took Tyson fifteen minutes to come looking for her.

“Why are you out here and not inside with me?”

“I’m just getting some fresh air,” she answered. “Besides, you were talking to that cute brunette girl that likes to touch your biceps.”

It took a moment for Tyson to catch on and then he was wide-eyed and worried. He sputtered, “It’s not like that with her, like at all. I don’t like her like that.”

Something settled in Fiona’s stomach. She felt a little bit sick and still nervous. The words spoken about her in the bathroom echoed in her ears and she couldn’t keep it at bay anymore. She blurted, “Moving here was a mistake.”

Tyson took a step back, looking wounded. He couldn’t believe the words that had come out of her mouth, especially on the first day she was even in Denver.

“You don’t mean that,” he spoke. “You haven’t even been here 24 hours.”

“I just know that I don’t fit into this lifestyle,” she said. “What if living together ruins our friendship? What if we can only handle each other in off-season spurts?”

“Why are you talking like this?” he asked. Tyson knew someone had to have said something because Fiona was happy just thirty minutes before all this. She sighed heavily, shaking her head at him to drop it. “I want you here. How do you not realize that? The months I spend in Denver without you drag because I’m counting down the days until I get to go home and be near you. But, now, I have you all the time. That’s all I want. Can’t you see that?”

Fiona’s face was red, flustered by his certainty and the emotion behind his words.

“You belong here. You belong with me,” he spoke. He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her into him. Oh, how they both wanted that to be true. “Now, can you please get out of your head and hang out with me?”

Fiona nodded meekly and allowed Tyson to lead her back into the bar. He sat at the bar beside JT, legs hanging from the barstool with his knees apart so Fiona could fit between them. She leaned up against him, eyes flitting briefly to the angry group of girls in the corner. Tyson noticed this and, without a word, wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer. He’d deal with Faith later.

“Your love is all you owe me. I won't break your heart.”

Tyson was on a date.

At least, that’s what Fiona thought he was doing.

She came home from work on a Friday night to an empty apartment. Tyson had practice early that morning, but he had the night off and he was planning to live on the couch, except he wasn’t on the couch. His shoes weren’t even beside the door.

So, Fiona texted him and he responded that he was out to dinner with a friend and he’d be home soon. That was at 6:30 p.m. It was now 8:30 p.m.

She wondered if it was with Faith. It was only a week earlier that she first encountered the professional mean girl and she still hadn’t shaken the feeling of worthlessness that came after. Tyson didn’t say anything about her that night. He didn’t explain why she was rubbing his arm at the bar or why she was giving Fiona death glares all night. He simply hoped that Fi wouldn’t catch on and that he wouldn’t get caught in a sticky situation. But, he knew he was already stuck because Fiona was acting weird and Faith was trying to get more attention from him.

He needed to restore balance in his little universe.

So, he texted Faith to grab drinks. He was going to tell her to get lost, that he didn’t have feelings for her.

Fiona didn’t know that. She spent the night sulking on the couch, glass of wine in one hand and a chocolate donut in the other. Love Island UK played on the television, acting as a small distraction from her disaster of a love life. When she finished her glass, she turned the TV off, wrapped herself in the blanket, and headed off to her room.

Tyson, on the other hand, was sprinting up the stairs in their apartment building just to get back to her. The elevator was taking too long and he was scared that if he waited a minute more he might lose his nerve, so he was skipping two steps at a time to get to Fiona.

She didn’t hear the door open, too invested in whatever she was reading on her phone to notice that he entered the apartment. She only realized when he called her name as he kicked his shoes off. He appeared a moment later, winded, at the end of the hallway.

“I love you,” he blurted out. Fiona’s eyes went wide. “Like, I love you as way more than a friend and I can’t keep ignoring how I feel. Tell me you feel it, too.” Her jaw dropped as he continued, “You’re the best person I know, inside and out, and you deserve to be loved every single day. You deserve someone who’ll never let you down, never break your heart. I want to be that guy.”

He was only a few steps away, having moved towards Fiona down the hallway, and his chest was still heaving from his marathon up the stairs. She took a deep breath, butterflies filling her stomach at his words, at the way he was looking at her, at her own feelings.

“I love you, too,” she spoke. “As way more than a friend.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I have for way too long.”

“I bet I have you beat,” he teased. He stepped into her space, one arm wrapping around her waist to tug her against him. She smiled at him, gaze shifting to his lips only for a moment before she met his eyes again. “Fifteen.”

“Huh?”

“When we kissed for the first time, the only time,” he said softly. “I think that’s when I knew deep down that there was nobody else.”

“Oh,” she spoke shyly. “Then, yes, you have me beat.”

“I knew it.”

“It was when you visited my school that I knew.”

“It took you that long?!” he exclaimed, his other arm coming to wrap around her waist with his other. She threw her head back with a laugh, eyes light and happy. “Wow.”

“Oh, don’t wow me,” she muttered. “It took you six years to tell me how you feel.”

“And it was worth it,” he said. She couldn’t stop smiling, neither could he. “Well, it will be.” She gave him a curious look, confused by his words. He laughed softly. “Do you think you’re a better kisser than you were at fifteen?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

Tyson leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. It was shy and chaste at first, only one kiss before they pulled away to soak up what they’d just down. And then he was leaning in again except this time her arms found a place around his neck and he pulled her closer, chest-to-chest. Their lips fit perfectly, melded into one another like this was the way they were meant to be.

The kiss didn’t last long before they were both smiling into it, teeth knocking against each other as they tried to make it last. Giggles erupted as they pulled away, both red in the face and breathing heavily. His fingers curled into her sides, like he couldn’t get enough of her and he couldn’t get close enough.

“I love you,” he spoke against her lips before placing one last peck against them. Fiona’s cheeks hurt from smiling. She pulled away from her to get a good look at the man in front of her. Through everything, Tyson had been at her side and, looking in his eyes, feeling his touch, she knew there would never be a day she wouldn’t feel his love.

“I love you, too. I always will.”

#tyson jost fic #tyson jost story #nhl imagine #tyson jost imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #tyson jost #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche fic #mk writes

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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years ago

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Knitting You a Home - 7

Pairing: Wolf Hybrid Namjoon and Human Reader

Word Count: 3,158

Genre/Rating: Hybrid AU - Established Relationship - Angst - Fluff - Smut - Rated PG-13

Overview: Things have changed for you and Namjoon. It’s been a year since the two of you got together, and despite a rocky start, it was impossible to deny the bond and love you shared for each other. But ever since Hoseok had been separated from his Mate, Namjoon has been withdrawing himself from you and doesn’t come home until late at night.

With questions far larger than either of you imagined, you can’t help but wonder if he’s let his past and old fears come back to haunt him. You had shown him that it was possible to have a home and be loved once before, but will you be able to do it again?

Warning: Discussion of cheating - Discussion of a child being abandoned in the past.

Music Playlist:

Main Master List:

Knitting You a Home Master List:

Mated Love is Never Easy Series Master List:

Sneak Peak - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - ?

You barely looked up from your knitting as the timer on your phone shrieked in the kitchen, declaring that the cookies were done baking. At least this batch was. It was day two of the vacation Grandmother insisted you take and already you were out of your mind.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the perfume that Namjoon had come home wearing, you spent the entire day yesterday cleaning; all of his clothes were immediately tossed in the laundry first. It was satisfying when the shirt he had worn that night no longer had a citrus scent to it, but reminded you of the lavender fabric softener you loved.

By the time midnight came, the whole house was clean. Not that it was filthy, but there were a few things that had been pushed back by both of you due to work, and perhaps some laziness when it was late and the last thing you wanted to do was be an adult. Unlike the night before, Namjoon didn’t come home early.

He wasn’t home by the time you fell asleep either.

There were a few minutes this morning when he came to give you a kiss goodbye before heading out to work, and even though he chuckled at your attempts to coax him back to bed, in less than five minutes he was once again gone, and you were left alone. For years you had lived in this house alone, but with Namjoon gone, it hauntingly quiet. There was a window in the bedroom that looked out to the front of the house, and as you curled up on his side of the bed to be surrounded by his warmth that lingered, you watched his figure grow smaller as he walked off in the sunrise. It wasn’t until that he was gone that you tried to go back to sleep.

Sleep evaded you though and within an hour you were – regrettably – wide awake and on your third cup of coffee. Since there was no rush, you brewed up coffee grounds instead of the instant k-cups, the kitchen now scented in the smell of your favorite dark roast.

With the cleaning all done, the newfound free time and silence allowed you to think about the very last thing you wanted to even dwell on. All you had to do was ask Namjoon about the perfume, but each time the thought crossed your mind, your throat felt like it was closing up and it became harder to breathe.

So, you turned to one of the other few things that you were good at to take your mind off it. Baking.

That had been at eight thirty.

The timer rang out again so you set your knitting back on the couch, deciding to count the stitches when you came back. You tapped the stop button on your phone, silence once again filling the house as you opened up the oven, the heat hitting you right in the face as you carefully took out a tray of chocolate chip cookies.

It was only after you set the hot tray on a cooling rack that there was a loud knock on the door. You frowned in confusion, grabbing your phone to check the time. It wasn’t even noon. Standing by the table, a smile slowly grew as a single person came to mind and you hurried the rest of the way to the doorway, not surprised at who was leaning against your door-frame, but that she was here.

“You can only imagine my surprise,” Luna greeted, grinning at you. “When I went to Grandmother’s shop only find out that little Red, was back at home on vacation.”

Gleefully laughing, you pulled Luna in by her hands, tightly hugging her as she returned the gesture. Unable to let go of each other, the two of you waddled backwards into your home as she kicked the door shut for you.

“She insisted that I take a vacation,” you answered. It was only then that you broke the hug, “What are you doing here?”

Luna rolled her eyes, the easy smile still present. “As surprising as it might be, I do have my days off from the Homeless Center.”

You leaned back in suspicion, only to break out into giggles once more. “You caught me in the middle of baking, so come on.” Walking back to the kitchen, you began to transfer the cookies onto the cooling rack. “Is it a tea or coffee day for you Luna?”

“Coffee.”

Pointing at the pot with the spatula, you set the now empty tray on the counter next to the remaining bowl of dough. “Already brewed. Make me a fresh cup too?”

She already knew where everything was. Her visits tended to last hours, and over the years, your home had become a place where Luna knew that she was always welcomed to come to, whether it was early morning or late at night.

“Either you’ve decided to run a bakery inside your house, or something happened,” Luna said, barely glancing at you as she refilled your signature blue mug, taking a black one for herself. Instead of sitting back at the table, she leaned against the counter, holding her mug in both hands as she watched you move the wire rack to the table for the time being.

You hummed in amusement, focusing on scooping out more dough. When she didn’t say anything else, you glanced up, seeing the knowing expression on her face as she waited. It was the same one you’ve given her countless time when she came over at odd hours in the early morning.

“What’s wrong,” Luna prodded again. “You’ve made what…six batches of cookies, and a dozen muffins?”

Shrugging, you put the tray in the oven and set the timer on your phone. “I’m bored and love to bake.”

“Yes, but you’re over-baking. The last time you did this was when Sue came back.” Raising the mug to her lips, she gave you a pointed look. “I still have banana bread in my freezer from you.”

Your body tensed at the mention of Sue, easily recalling the multiple times that Namjoon had come into the kitchen, nuzzling your neck as he hugged you in an attempt to get you to stop baking for the night and come to bed.

Luna gently touched your shoulder, your grip on the counter tightening right before loosening up. “What’s wrong?”

Taking your coffee, you barely met her gaze as you sat at the table. Luna settled down across from you without another word.

“It’s Namjoon,” you finally answered. Giving Luna a weak smile, you traced the rim of your mug. “He’s been, acting different. Ever since Sue.”

“Different how?”

You shook your head. If there was anyone who might know what was happening, it’d be Luna. She worked directly with Hybrids every day; it was bound that she’d pick up knowledge on their habits over time.

“At first, he was overprotective and there was an increase in skin ship, but then it went back to normal when Hoseok and Sarah were reunited, then it changed again. It was like hitting reverse. He isn’t affectionate anymore, or if he is it’s only a little bit. He’s at the studio working all the time, comes home late. I basically never see him these days. Last night he even…”

Your eyes stung, voice halting as it finally hit you. The entire time you’ve only been thinking about, about the possibilities of what was turning Namjoon away. Never once did you speak it out loud because you hoped that things would have gone back to normal.

“He even what?” Luna gently asked.

Bottom lip trembling, it felt like your heart was breaking, the Mate Mark on your neck suddenly feeling like a weight on your shoulders. Namjoon…he had asked you so many times if this was what you wanted. To seal the bond between the two of you, guaranteeing a life time with each other and that when it was done, you’d never be able to see another man romantically again. Namjoon was your one and only.

“He came home,” you slowly spoke, trying to catch your breath. “reeking of another woman’s perfume.”

Through blurry eyes, Luna’s face shifted into understanding as she moved her chair next to you, her cup softly setting on the table. “Oh God, don’t cry honey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

You thought you set your mug on the table, but apparently it had been closer to the edge than you originally thought and it crashed to the wooden floor, coffee pooling onto the floorboards but neither of you rushed to clean it. Instead, you leaned into Luna’s hug, your hands gripping her shirt as she rubbed circles into your back.

She didn’t stop you, didn’t say that your tears were useless. Luna simply waited, letting you cry until no more tears were able to leak out, even if it meant having your voice go hoarse. As grateful as you were that Luna was here, a part of you wished that it had been Namjoon who came to comfort you, even if he was the reason for your tears.

When they finally stopped, you sat up, rubbing at your eyes with the heel of your hands. “I’m sorry.” You whispered.

Luna shook her head, reaching over to grab a napkin. “You’ve been there for me, for every phone call and visit in the middle of the night. You have nothing to apologize for.” Handing you the napkin, she watched to make sure that you were done crying before cleaning up the broken mug.

Still, guilt swirled around inside you as you wiped at your eyes, trying to calm down. It felt like a bat was breaking every bone and bruising all your organs to say out loud what you’ve been thinking. That Namjoon had possibly considered, or even acted on cheating on you.

When she returned, she wiped away a few tears that you had missed. “I know it hurts hun. Have you talked to Namjoon about it?”

“When?” You weakly asked. “When can I ask him? He’s never home long enough for us to even talk.”

“True,” Luna agreed. “But how will you ever know the truth?” Licking her lips, she leaned back in her seat. “Do you want my honest opinion about all this?”

You nodded with a sniff. Now that you finally spoke your thoughts, you needed someone to tell you the truth. The last thing you wanted was for someone to just play along with your worries and let it continue to hurt you. Luna was always there to tell you the truth, even if it hurt because if it did, she was by your side to help carry it the weight.

“Namjoon explained to you about the Mate Mark, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then you know that Hybrids have only one true Mate that they’re destined to be with.” Luna smiled at you, leaning forward to gently tap the Mate Mark on you neck.

When she did it, you merely flinched at the sudden touch. It wasn’t like when Namjoon touched or kissed it, and it sent tingles running through your nerves and a warm fire in your heart. It was, strange to have someone else but Namjoon touch it.

But Luna did it again, a gentle smile appearing on her face. “Wolf Hybrids especially believe this considering the DNA they share in addition to all the lore around werewolves, their animal counterparts heighten the desire for a one true partner. Now I know that it took Namjoon a while for him to realize that you were his Mate, but when he did…honey the bond took effect immediately.”

Wetting her lips, Luna leaned back in her seat, trying to find the right words to explain this. “He is so in love with you. Even before he gave you his Mark, when you took him in and showed him what it was like to be with someone who cared, the bond between the two of you formed and grew stronger than anything I’ve seen before.”

“But the perfume…”

She shook her head, unable to come up with an answer that would chase away those fears. “I don’t know. Maybe there’s someone at the studio that wears an unhealthy amount of perfume? What I do know, is that Namjoon would never consider cheating on you. Hurting you is the last thing he’d ever want to do. You have to talk to him about this, it’s not healthy to keep this all bottled up” Luna glanced over your shoulder, smiling in disbelief. “Nor is it healthy for those of us who will end up eating all these treats.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, you chuckled at her joke, knowing that the moment you ran out of cookie dough you were moving on to brownies.

Her words swirled in your mind and as relieved as you were to hear someone else say what you knew was true in your heart, it only made you wonder what was really going on. Was what happened with Hoseok, having this much of an impact on Namjoon that he was already preparing for the two of you to be separated? Just like they had been?

You stayed quiet as Luna wrapped her arms around you like a blanket. Just like you’ve done for her, time and time again without fail.

“Can…can I talk to you?”

Lifting your head, you were surprised to see Luna staring at her untouched mug, her gaze seemingly going through the tea you had made.

“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” you asked, gently smiling in an attempt to bring her back from wherever her mind was racing to.

It worked a little bit, but when she looked up at you, her eyes were overflowing with tears. You dragged your chair next to hers, coaxing Luna to rest her head on your shoulder as you hugged her. It had been a while since her last late-night visit and you were surprised that she had stopped by with Namjoon staying with you. But you would never turn her away.

Even though she asked to talk, she didn’t speak.

Wetting your lips, you ran a hand through her hair. “Was it a work thing, or a relationship thing?” You softly asked. Depending on which it was, you might have to go explain to Namjoon that Luna was staying the night.

“A work thing,” she croaked out. You relaxed your arms enough for her to turn, allowing her to bury her face in the crook of your neck. Wet tears slid down your neck to your shoulder as she shook in your embrace, her cries growing in volume even as she tried to reign it in.

“He’s not even a year old,” Luna cried, her voice breaking as she attempted to talk through it. “I…I was throwing out the garbage when they suddenly drove up. She dropped him in-in my arms and ran off.”

Your eyes closed as you pieced together her sentences, your own emotions wanting to take control. But you couldn’t. One of you had to be strong for the other.

“He wasn’t even crying. It was like he thought they were coming back for him.”

There had been a time when you asked Luna why she continued to work at the Homeless Center for Hybrids all these years. It had been after she told you a story similar to this one, but it had been with a Hybrid girl who was in her early teens. Luna had a heart of gold and despite the fact that the Hybrids who entered the Center were there because they had nowhere else to go, and had a reason to be upset and angry with humans, she gave it her all to go the extra mile and make their time there filled with hope.

Suddenly feeling a hand on your shoulder – Luna’s were still wrapped around your waist – you blinked your eyes open and looked up, surprised to see Namjoon standing next to you. He had reached the point of being comfortable enough for the occasional hug and touch, but that was when you usually asked him. This was the first time he had touched you.

His eyes weren’t guarded and his ears were lowered against his head, a tell-tale sign that he had overheard. Instead of speaking, he glanced at Luna before walking into the living room to grab the throw blanket that was over the couch. His footsteps were silent when he came back, gently covering Luna with the blanket and you as well.

Luna lifted her head at the touch of the blanket, wiping away her tears as she gazed up at Namjoon with watery eyes. Namjoon simply crouched down, his hand holding on to the chair to maintain his balance.

“It’s better to have something like this, happen when he’s young.” Namjoon softly spoke, capturing both of your attentions. “I’m not saying what happened was good, it’s a terrible thing no matter how you look at it. But he won’t remember it, not like how a lot of Hybrids do. All we can do is hope that he’ll get adopted into a loving family, who will treat and raise him the way he deserves, so that he will never have to remember this day.”

Even though the situation was serious, you were in awe of how Namjoon was able to comfort Luna. Despite being friends with Luna for years, some of the stories she’s told you left you speechless and unable to think of the right thing to say. But Namjoon, he found the words immediately.

“I’ll talk to him,” you whispered, shaking your mind from the memory. Covering your mouth, you coughed in an attempt to clear your throat and bring your voice back.

Luna let you move out of her arms, a gentle smile appearing as she watched you nod in determination, even repeating yourself as you wiped your eyes for the last time. She knew that you would, that you

’d eventually decide on talking to him. You weren’t the type to let things just…settle in the mud. You were strong, but sometimes you needed an ear to listen to your fears and a voice to lead you in the direction that you knew you needed to go in.

Sometimes, you just needed that little push.

“Good,” Luna agreed. Reaching out, she took two cookies from the cooling tray and handed one to you. “But first, let’s test out these bad boys. Okay?”

Staring at the cookie, you suddenly chuckled as you took it, taking a bite out of it. It was soft and warm, and you knew that Namjoon would be going straight to these when he came home. Chocolate chip cookies were his absolute favorite after all. Maybe then you’d be able to talk to him.

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onechicagorpf · 5 years ago

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Not A Stranger - Part 3

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med intern)

Waking up in bed next to a random naked guy after a drunken night out usually sucks, but eh, whatever. you’ll never see him again, right? Well except this time, random naked guy turns out to be your ED attending’s little brother, so maybe you’re a little bit screwed…

Read Part 1 here Read Part 2 here Read Part 4 here

Warnings: SMUT. A little bit of R-rated smut! Swearing, the usual cuss words. Some angst/PTSD, although it’s not overtly discussed. Dubious medical content (discussion of amputation & blood), some of which has been shamelessly lifted from a season 3 episode of Code Black!

A/N: So there’s definitely going to be a Part 4, lol! I’ll try and have it out by this time next week. Send me asks/messages/leave a note if you liked this and want to see more - it really makes me feel so much less insecure about my writing ahaha! Also do send me short prompts or requests that I can fill as blurbs (i.e. nothing that’s going to be a several chapter story - I will request those later on!) - preferably for Jay but I can do Will as well! Female!Halstead sibling is also okay :) Anyway enough talking, enjoy!

PS: I make mention of bearded Jay in this chapter; this gif is totally the version of him I had in my head for this chapter!

"Walter Holden. 16 years old, victim of an auto accident, came in with a dislocated right leg."

There's droplets of rain on the other side of the windows. It blurs the view - all of a sudden, the buildings you can usually see from the 13th floor of the hospital are just fuzzy, beige blocks.

"Preliminary exam showed no other major trauma, and his vital signs were strong. His leg just had to be reset."

A shudder goes down your spine - was the hospital's conference room always this cold? Well, you don't know - you've never been in here before.

"Dr Halstead advised 10 mil of morphine, but the patient refused pain medication, and the leg was reset. It was at this point that Dr Halstead handed the patient off to Dr Y/L/N, requesting her to evaluate his leg for blood flow."

There's been a strange tapping noise for the last 5 minutes, but only now do you realise it's your fingers against the oval, wooden table.

"Dr Y/L/N? Dr Y/L/N!" You snap out of your reverie and look up. Dr Lanik's glaring at you. You apologise. He takes his seat, next to Mrs Goodwin and Will, both of whom send you a soft smile that doesn't quite reach their eyes. They're trying to be reassuring, but it doesn't matter - you're ready to drown yourself.

Clearing your throat, you speak. "I was instructed to evaluate his right leg for blood flow. I did so by checking his pulses, uh, dorsalis pedis and posterior tibialis." You pause, as some of the other occupants in the conference room - all members of the board or lawyers, all wearing pristine suits and a cold, calculating expression - turned to look at each other.

You clear your throat again. "It was a uh, a textbook exam."

"I'm sorry, in which textbook does it say to check for an arterial injury by just palpating a pulse?" Dr Lanik cuts in sharp. Will closes his eyes, as you struggle to breath normally.

"90% of all patients - "

"I can't hear you, Dr Y/L/N." Dr Lanik's voice booms across the room, and Will's had it.

"This is ridiculous, there's no need to be intimidating her like this - she's a first year resident and - "

"And she was satisfied with a pulse check to evaluate blood flow? Do I need to remind everyone here that the acceptable course of action in this scenario is to order a doppler or an ABI? That boy's leg was sitting for ages without proper blood flow, and eventually the best we could do for him was amputate it."

Will shakes his head vehemently. "Pathology's looked over the leg - they determined that the severity of the accident combined with the amount of time it took CFD to extricate Holden from the car meant that his leg wasn't viable before he even stepped into the ED." Will turns to you, his eyes piercing as he spoke directly to you.

"There was nothing you could've done that would've changed the outcome. Nothing."

You take a deep breath. You don't nod.

"Alright, we've heard everything we need to hear." The head of the legal department says, after a few moments of discussion with the board members. "Given the findings from Pathology, we will not be terminating Dr Y/L/N's employment here at Chicago Med. However, we recommend that her OR privileges be revoked, and that she is attached to an attending for a duration of 2 months, by which point hopefully she will learn that not every case is a textbook case." She stares directly at you. "Dismissed." Chairs scrape against the floor as everyone makes their leave.

Will places his hand on your shoulder, and you realise you haven't moved even after everyone's left.

His voice is soft. "We all make mistakes. And - "

"I could've been the reason he lost his leg. If he'd come in with ample time to save the leg, and I just - and I just didn't realise it, I could've been the reason a kid had to lose a leg." There's tears in your eyes as you turn to look at Will, who just sighs.

"Yeah. But that's not what happened."

"I got lucky." You shrug, tears freely streaming down your face now. "I just got lucky."

Will doesn't say anything. He just hugs you.

***

It's not the kind of thing you just get over, you realise, because it's been 5 days since it happened but you can't get it out of your head. You've been barely getting any sleep; often you jerk awake in the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning, after which it's next to impossible to fall asleep again. It's also affecting your work more than just making you tired - you keep second-guessing your medical judgements, deferring to Will or Natalie or Ethan for anything and everything. None of them bite at you for it, because they know what's going on and they know what you're going through, but some part of you wishes they would. Wishes that they'd just grab you by the shoulders and shake you, and say "Be a damn doctor."

Dr Charles met with you for lunch earlier today, and you lamented your troubles. The kind and thoughtful psychiatrist patiently listened, before giving you some wisdom you needed to hear. Amongst which was "find a distraction".

"You mean focus on something else?" You asked, chasing a watermelon cube at the bottom of your fruit cup.

"Yeah, but it's a little bit of a dangerous tactic. See, you don't want to distract yourself from dealing with the pain and the guilt you feel, because emotions don't tend to go away when you suppress them like that. But if you're having trouble processing it, it can be helpful to take your mind off of it for a while, wait til some time has passed and it's not so...intense. And maybe then it'll be easier to tackle and get over, y'know?" Dr Charles advised and you nodded, taking it in.

You think about what exactly you could do to distract yourself as you finish your shift and make your way towards your car in the parking lot.

Maybe I should take up painting?

The thought of yourself - little miss notoriously bad at anything artsy - trying to paint has you chuckling softly. You're about to give up on this whole distract yourself thing when, as if on cue, your phone buzzes with a text message. You get into your car, turn on the heating, and pull out your phone.

J.H. 11:32PM

So...guess who's back :)

You can't help the smile on your face. Jay's been undercover for the past week - it actually got started the next morning after the night you went over for "hockey". He'd gotten a text early in the morning asking him to come in, and so the two of you had actually barely spoken since...the festivities of that night.

You 11:33PM

Congrats, detective :)

J.H. 11:33PM

Wanna come over and help me celebrate?

Huh. Well maybe Dr Charles wasn't off-target with the whole "distract yourself" thing - although you're positive having meaningless sex is probably not one of the healthy methods of distraction that he was envisioning.

But quickly, you realise it doesn't matter - ever since what happened, you haven't been sleeping well at night. It's been close to 6 days and you're wrecked, so maybe some good, tires-you-out-completely sex is exactly what you need?

You 11:34PM

Be there in 15

J.H. 11:34PM

Can't wait :)

Your lips curve into a smile as you pull out of the parking lot and down into the main road.

***

"I've been waiting to do this...for so long..." Jay murmurs in your ear before pressing kisses down the side of your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. You tilt your head to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck to him.

“It’s only been…a couple ‘a days…” You reply softly, and you feel Jay’s huffs of soft laughter into your neck. You turn to look at him, pulling away. “What?”

There’s a teasing smile on his face. “Most women take it as a compliment if a guy says he hasn’t stopped thinking about her.”

You shake you head, putting on a teasing look, “Uh-uh, that’s not what you said, you said you’ve been wanting to do this – ”

“It was implied – ”

“It wasn’t implied and even if it was – ”

“It was implied and even if it wasn’t, that’s still a compliment.” Jay says pointedly, a huge grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to hide the growing smile on your face. He chuckles, seeing right through you.

You smack his arm. “You keep laughing at me in bed and I’m gonna get mad.” This gets Jay full-on laughing, and your jaw drops in pretend-outrage. “You fucking – ”

“No, no, no c’mere – ” Jay pacifies you, leaning over you, arms on either side of you as he starts to kiss your face, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. But there’s still the slightest smile pulling up the corners of his lips, and when he presses them to your lips, you can’t help but laugh into the kiss. Jay reaches up and holds your face, the kiss becoming soft, loving, drawn-out, and some feeling deep in your core tells you you’re just…somewhere else right now. You don’t know how to describe it, other than that everything in this moment feels perfect, feels right.

A shiver goes down your spine, and maybe it’s because Jay’s shifted, and is now sucking a spot on the base of your neck, hard and strong and deep, and his hands are skimming downwards, unbuttoning your soft cotton top before unzipping your jeans. And maybe it’s because you don’t know what the fuck you are doing here, with him, with all of this. You think about how wrong this is, how bad this is, how his brother’s your boss and this was just supposed to be one drunken hookup and then it became two (except you weren’t even drunk that time) and now it’s about to become three –

“Y/N?” Jay calls softly, and you look at him – his hands resting gently over the hem of your panties, his face hovering over the space between your legs, and the look of…almost reverence in his shining green eyes.

You stop thinking.

Your hands reach downward, sliding your panties off and Jay eagerly helps, getting them off completely. Just like last time, Jay draws out the foreplay – kissing, licking, and nipping at the skin of your inner thighs, making the heat in your core build. Running your fingers through his dark hair, you yank it a little to get him to get going, and he pinches your hip – a quick slap of the wrist. Laughing, you repeat the action, pulling on his hair, and he groans.

“You’re real impatient, you know?”

“Jayyyyyyyy,” You whine, pouting down at him. He’s got this look of a predator – a confident, cocky smile on his face. Jay dips his head down, his mouth making contact with your cunt.

“There we go,” You murmur, gasping as you feel his hot breath on your most sensitive regions. Jay’s hands grip tight into your supple skin, holding your thighs open for him as his tongue circles your opening. Your back arcs as you moan, the sensation of his tongue on you setting off what feels like fireworks in your head. Jay’s mouth presses into you, hard and deep, his tongue licking and lapping at your now sopping wet cunt.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck – ” You whisper, eyelids fluttering shut as Jay softly flicks his tongue over your clit. He repeats the motion, going up and down, teasing your clit and your hip jerks upwards sharply in response. Settling your ass back down against his soft sheets, you catch your breath and mutter a soft apology – “Shit, sorry,” – and Jay taps your thigh, a silent “don’t worry about it”, as he’s nosed his way back between your legs immediately.

Jay laps at your folds and you try to keep your head about you, try to not lose your mind, but it just feels so good. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently and your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Oh my god, ohhh my god – fuck!” You whimper, as he keeps sucking your clit, pausing to flick his tongue over it. Your fingers clutch the sheets around you hard enough to rip holes in them. The loud moans out of your mouth are bordering on screams. The feeling in your core, the heat, starts rising like a wave reaching a shore –

“I’m gonna – I’m gonna – I’m gonna – ah, ah, ahhhh – fuck! Fuck, fuck – Jay! Jay!” You scream, your vision whiting out completely as you arch off the bed, riding out the waves of pleasure wrecking your body. You hands fly downwards to grab Jay’s head as you jerk away from his still-working mouth, your oversensitive clit causing tears to pool in your eyes. Pulling him up, you whisper his name over and over again, like he’s the only gospel you know. Jay shifts up, laying down next to you and pulling you close, your bodies fitting into each other like a perfect pair of puzzle pieces. You look at him through your teary eyes and all you see are his green irises staring right back at you with a measure of something dark and lustful in them. You hold his face in your hands, running a thumb over the rough stubble of his cheeks, his jaw, where a soft beard has started to grow. His lips are glossy and wet, from you, and you see now there’s a soft pink line going across his nose that you trace with your hands, frowning.

“I’m okay,” Jay says in a soothing voice.

“What happened?” You ask, concerned, the frown between your eyebrows deepening as you look up at him.

A soft smile. “Kinda got into a fight. Guy tried to punch me, I dodged it, but his fingernail scratched me. It’s fine.” Jay replies quickly, and his face is so close to yours that you’re breathing the same air. You don’t say anything, but you must still be frowning because Jay speaks again. “It’s literally just a scratch.” You hum softly in response, running your hands down his front, unbuttoning his shirt, scanning the expanse of his chest and abdomen with your fingertips and your eyes.

Jay lifts your chin and you turn back to him. “What?”

“Are you checking me for other injuries?” He asks, chuckling. You look back down, pausing for a moment. “Maybe…it’s not like you’d tell me if you got hurt, right?” Jay just laughs, and there’s your answer. You ignore the burgeoning feelings in your heart of some kind of dejection.

Your fingers run over a sliver of raised skin, on his lower right flank. It’s a thin, pale pink scar that runs about 3 inches. You work in an ED – you know exactly what this is.

“You were stabbed?” You ask, stunned. “When?”

Jay sighs, grabbing your fingers in his hand and holding them closed. “Army stuff. Not a big deal.” He pushes your fingers away to your own body, and then reaches for the blanket and pulls it up over the two of you, like as if the conversation’s over.

“You don’t want to talk about the Army,” you point out, as Jay lays on his back, some distance between the two of you. He sighs again, looking upwards at the ceiling. “Is that a question or a statement?”

You know you shouldn’t push, but you do anyway.

“You should talk to someone about it – ”

“I talk to people about it. I have.” Jay’s voice is tight. He’s still not looking at you.

“You can talk to me about it...” You say, and you’re terrified. Because what you’re really asking is “Do you think I’m close enough, do you care about me enough to let me in?”.

Jay turns to you, a soft smile on his face. “It’s fine. I’ve got other people for that.”

Hiding the immense desolation that’s weighing like an anchor on your chest from showing, you just send a shallow smile his way.

He’s got other people for that. He’s got other people for sharing his feelings, his pain, his suffering, his life. He doesn’t want you for that, I mean, why would he share all of that with you? You’re just a warm body – some random girl he’s having sex with. Nothing more.

You pull the blankets tighter around you, turning away from Jay. Trying your best to quell the wave of sadness flooding what feels like every single part of you, you drift asleep.

***

“Dr Y/N?”

You turn, and there’s Walter Holden on a bed in the ED.

“Walter?” You walk to his side, stunned. He’s crying – tears spilling out of his soft baby blue eyes, his youthful face scrunched up in pain and anguish.

“Why did you do this to me? Why?!” He yells, his voice cracking. You shake your head. “Walter, Walter I’m so sorry – I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to – ” You choke on your words, and as you look down the bed you realise that Walter’s amputated leg is bleeding at the stump.

“Oh god, oh my god – ” You get up, shocked as the blood starts gushing. Walter screams.

“Help me! Dr Y/N – help me! Help me!”

You hear your heart hammering in your ears, your head is spinning, you stand up and you feel faint.

Will rushes into the room. He starts holding as much gauze as he can to Walter’s leg. Nurses and doctors flood the room, and they begin moving Walter out. You’re standing, back pressed to the treatment room wall, aghast.

Will turns to you, his face red with rage. “What are you even doing?! Fucking hell, Y/N – you can’t do anything right?!”

There’s a painful lump in your throat, and you can’t breathe. Something grabs your hand and you snap your head. It’s Walter, and as they wheel his bed out, he looks at you with so much fury and torment in his eyes.

“YOU DON’T DESERVE TO BE A DOCTOR!”

“No, no, no, I’m so sorry Walter, I’m so sorry – I’m so sorry – this can’t be happening, no, no no no – ” Tears stream down your face and you start shaking. Your knees buckle, and you fall to the ground, sobs wracking your body. Somewhere in the distance, you hear your name being called, but you can’t answer, you can’t do this anymore, you can’t – you just can’t…

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You jolt, your eyes flying open. Jay’s over you, his eyebrows drawn together, his eyes wide, concerned, his hands holding your shoulders where you realise he’s been shaking you – shaking you because – because –

Fuck.

It was a fucking nightmare. Again.

You let out a cry of pain, bringing your hands up to cover your face. “Breathe, just breathe.” Jay says softly, rubbing your arms up and down.

After about a minute, when you don’t feel so shaken anymore, you wipe your eyes and slowly sit up. Jay shifts with you, sitting right next to you. You can’t look him in the eyes.

“I’m – I’m sorry I woke you,” you whisper to your palms, resting atop your folded legs.

“Don’t – don’t worry about that. Y/N, what happened? It sounded pretty bad…” Jay says and you shake your head.

“I’m fine, it’s fine – ” Your hands run through your hair roughly. You need to go. You need to go – you need to leave – you can’t be here –you can’t be here with him –

“Hey. Hey,” Jay repeats, when you don’t answer. He reaches across and his warm hard gently grabs your face, trying to get you to look at him but you just push his hand away. You get up, grabbing your underwear and jeans from the ground and start getting dressed.

“Y/N!” Jay gets off the bed, and comes to you. You sidestep him, or at least you try to, but he’s much taller than you and his shoulders are broad; he stands in your way and grabs your arms softly.

“Y/N, look at me – ”

“Why?”

You give him what he wants. You look up at him, you stare him directly in his eyes, shaking in anger and fear and what feels like the weight of the world on your shoulders.

“Hmm? Why? This isn’t – you don’t care – what does it matter –” You yell at him, your mind frazzled as you fall apart in his arms.

The frown on Jay’s face gets deeper, and he shakes his head, leaning close. “Hey, talk to me. C’mon, you can talk to me – ”

“Why the fuck would I talk to you? You’re just some guy I’m sleeping with!” You spit harshly, shaking his hands off and stepping back. Jay’s mouth falls open, and his shoulders sag. His face contorts into something awful - dismay, defeat, hurt.

For a moment, you want to run back into his arms – apologise, say you didn’t mean it, say you’re just scared – but you don’t. You move around him, grabbing your shirt. You put it on and make your way out of his bedroom, and out of his apartment.

You don’t know why you said what you did. Actually, scratch that, you know exactly why you said that. In fact, you know exactly why you’re what you’re doing.

Every relationship you’ve ever had up to this point’s fucked you over. Every single one. You’ve been cheated on, you’ve been lied to, you’ve been told you were just some piece of ass, not an actual girlfriend. And now?

Now you’re scared shitless of what this thing between the two of you is. You’re scared shitless that you’re making a mistake by screwing around with your boss’s brother and you’re –

Well.

You’re scared shitless you’re falling for him.

So, you do what you do best. Dump out of this, push the self-destruct button. Get him to push you away so you don’t have to go through the pain of falling for the guy you can’t have. The one that you know’s going to screw you over, because he’s going to realise he only really sees you as a hookup – that he doesn’t love you.

You try to hold back the tears, because you’re driving home and the last thing you need right now is a car accident. There’s a buzzing sound from your phone and you perk up. As much as you want to tell yourself to not get your hopes high, you can’t help yourself, and you speed down the road to the red light so you can push the brakes and wait. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you immediately check the screen.

The smile on your face falls – it’s just a stupid notification from Instagram. You toss your phone back onto the passenger seat, hard enough that it bounces off and hits the ground. Tears once again threaten to fill your eyes, and there’s a painful lump in your throat. You swipe at your cheeks, where a single tear has made its escape, and turn to look at the screen next to your steering wheel – it shows the time as 3:45AM. Leaning back against your car seat, a deep sigh exits your lungs.

You realise there’s no way you’re going to sleep again today, what with the whole Jay thing on top of the Walter Holden nightmare that’s been haunting you for the last 6 days now.

The lights turn green.

Swearing under your breath, you throw your car into a U-turn and drive to Med instead.

#jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead smut #jay halstead x reader #will halstead #will halstead imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago med imagine #onechicago imagine #onechicago #cpd smut #cpd imagine

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hag-rambling-on · 4 years ago

Text

Boys hc’s feats Diaspro

Riven

Riven Cassios was born to two Omega prisoners. What surprised everyone, because staying healthy enough to carry out a pregnancy on a planet that sucks your magic is... Obviously the Rocalucce Council keeps an eye on the planet, they took him out of there because no child would pay because his parents, and he has been in foster homes, although it doesn't last long since the requirements for his adoption were more strict than most -which in the long run the Council would realize was COUNTERPRODUCTIVE for his character-. That is what Darcy detects and why the high spheres are somewhat "permissive" with him.

His mother died giving birth, it was already miraculous that she lived so long and ‘bout his father I think I'm going to kill him too, maybe. The father I assure you would be love him (he called Riven to himself Daru, his gift) thought was not his initial idea, the mother always saw him as an experiment (she was a witch who followed the Ancenstresses). Ohm, also in his blood there are dark elves and giants.

Riven surname is actually the name of the galaxy where he was born or a derivation of it, as is common for orphans. So the boy knows NOTHING about the above.

Timmy and Riven are the only specialists who have passed the full course at Fonterossa, without skips. In the end they bond about it. Timmy gives him a recommendation to work as a part-time mechanic at Magix (good boy face, he knows how to use it)

Timmy

Timeus “tshhhh, it’s Timmy.... i’m not my grandfather” fulfills the physique requisits as much as any other specialist, but it is true that his physique and abilities, adapted to the distance, give him a more "feline" air.

He is also the one who wakes up at night and moves silently, scaringthe rest of the squad if they wake up unexpectedly.

His glasses are for both sight and Aura Vision. His parents are rich enough to pay for an operation, but since he would have to wear glasses for his ability anyway, why? Practical guy.

And the glasses make people look down on him, something that when his self-esteem is high and he’s being rational and cunning he knows it’s wonderful, although many others times may hurt. He is mostly leprechaum with something human.

Nex

Nex is still a Paladin born in Lymphea and with blood of literally ALL races. He adapts well to any planet, although not its people at first. His race mix makes his face “charismatic”, like always draw attention even if people don’t know very well why they are draw.

His ability is Delay Sleep. It allows him to hold over his need to sleep for days without going crazy or losing physical capacity or needing many days to recover (he can stay awake for 5 or more days, sleep 8-10 hours and go back to being his usual self). Sometimes he does not control this well and has plenty of energy in need of drop but he is the one who has the most control of his ability.

One of his parents spent time in Rocalucce Fortress as a "guest" so at times he feels like he has something to prove.

Roy

Coming from Andros, most of the population are merpeople with a few elves and humans. which avoids the 100% aquatic population. Roy, unlike Aisha is mostly human-elf with a bit of merpeople in a grandgrandgrand level. One of his parents comes from one of the colonies on the moons of Andros and he was born there although they moved almost immediately.

Roy’s paladin ability being the canon “Triton Aura” used to breathe underwater. That and learning to swim and drive all kinds of water vehicles was what made him feel "adapted" to Andros. But he always try to be useful.

He only became a Paladin at the beginning of season 6, and it was visiting him that the season began. He’s bi but he thinks of himself as straight.

Nabu

I plead guilty to liking Nabu even though I shipped Aisha with Flora and Nex. So I have a hard time thinking about him. Except, EVERY time I try to think of something. EVERY TIME. Rapunzel. So, he will never cut his hair.

But with an island instead of a tower and a babysitter (male and wizard) more dumbledoor (not, actually more like Newt Scamander mentor like).

Sometimes he misses out on some "social customs/things/normalcies" whatever is called due to his little dealing with people. He may seem naive or that don't understand sarcasm. He understands and learns quickly, but people were very respectful to him and there are things he is not used to. 1/2 merpeople 1/4 half elf 1/4 human as both of his parents are half merpeople.

He likes to swim as much as any merpeople, but they didn't let him do it much because they were afraid he would go away or lost, so he usually went off "to the heights", going up to the rooftops and things like that.

Helia

Helia is trans but keeps his first name as chosen name which I don’t understand. Also he has formally tried study practically everything he wanted. Specialist, Paladin, Wizard (of Threads). Painter.

He can't make up his mind, his family hurries him just to STOP making them dizzy and spend a few years with everything -and actually end a single “major” choice- he wants to experience, that he has a very long life and can dedicate a few decades to Everything and they can support them. Well, more or less, but he was vip pass to all these options because family connections.

Long story about Sky, Brandon and Dia.

Sky, Brandon and Diaspro's first meeting was a show. Has it all. Costumes, lies. Confusion. Kidnapping. And that is why Diaspro insists on the wedding (I would like to mention that although I don’t know her romantic orientation yet surely bi or lesbian, here, Dia is asexual. And Sky is non-binary but his parents do not approve so go for he/him to avoid problem with them. And here our story begins)

A bit of background. Brandon actually hails from Isis, the son of the military and was chosen by the whimsical chibi!Diaspro as a playmate and future personal guard (because then she believed that touching children gave "lice" and her character and age did not have the 18like wall of royal education, then in a random encounter he called her among many things what Dia's mind translated in a strange way "uncracked geode", which is a double-edged compliment in Isis that many would not accept from strangers but she liked it). Rarely they would end up becoming friends in the end. When the series begins, Brandon and Diaspro keep up with calls, which will prevent Dia's reaction with Bloom on the one hand.

On a visit (officially only from the kings of Erakyon to to the kings of Isis) for the children to get to know each other, somehow, they all ended up happily dressing up, with Sky and Dia looking like two pretty princesses and Brandon assessing whether his dress would be green or yellow because Diaspro insisted that she and Sky had already taken the blue and red and so it would be more "thematic".

Here began the first of many attacks on Sky's head, because before it had begun to be rumored (true) that Erendor had fertility problems (btw his race dwarf-high elf and Samara is leprechaum-high elf, Sky gots mostly high elf part). When they came in and saw two girls and a boy, Brandon, not the highest IQ, but one of the wisest of his team and definitely the best fighter, played along so he ended up pretending to be Sky (also helps that his hair colors looks like Erendor) Everything worked out well in the end, although Brandon ended up as Sky's squire (better for him, worse for Diaspro), and Diaspro made Sky promise that he owed her a big favor. Anyway they grew up over the years in friendship and they both knew they were not of each other's true love interest, but, they could put up with each other (because that's what royalty does).

Sky and Diaspro have a sonorous (affectionate) war over Sky's hair to annoy/exasperate Brandon. Diaspro always complains that he doesn't grow it and it would look great then. Sky says that he is fine as with his hair at it is (it's actually Erendor's thing). The soft part of Diaspro that she doesn't usually show off has taught Sky many ways to style his hair and subtly put on makeup to look more feminine if he wants to.

How I am amused by that image from wikipedia and that Diaspro entered Sky's guard so quickly. Another headcanon is that Diaspro would sometimes change her appearance a bit and go into Sky's guard to be with Brandon to annoy him and Sky, when Brandon has to talk about her without giving details, she is simply "his sister Charbonne" (she hates that alias). They were discovered when she was 15 years old but she had already trained and the royal families considered it a sign to formalize the engagement since “they search each other” (people only sees what they wants).

The Diaspro family is not good, first Brandon was a shield (emotional) because as a child they were not “that” bad and then Sky joined him (physically and politically), handling things with Bloom so like that was not a good idea when the floor was full of cracked bottles.

... omg i’m sorry you three i’m sorry what I did to you

Also, Brandon's ability as a green user is very interesting and helps with this a lot. I temporally call it “Keypoint Warning” and I like it a lot, it's like a "tic" that tells him "be careful, what you say, what you do now, even the smallest thing could change everything for youself (for better or for worse)”. He actually has a scar on his forehead (not a lightning bolt) that his hairstyle hides after “that” day but a little less fine on the words and the kidnappers might have broken his mouth so... His parents have been cured (spoiler: no) of heart attack since then.

#winx #winx club #rewinxing #winx rewrite #winx specialists #winx paladins #winx timmy #winx brandon #winx riven #rambling about winx #winx helia #winx sky #winx roy #winx nabu #winx nex #winx diaspro

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ray-jaykub · 4 years ago

Note

Heyy, I just wanted to say I love your blog🥺 and I was wondering if you can do prompts 52- "I Thought I almost lost you" and 54 "you and me against the world, remember?" For mikey? Mikey x gender neutral reader. Thank you and have an amazing day!!!

Gonna do this tonight and then headcannons i got tommorow because finally things are slowing down and i can take a minute :) hopefully this is good for you guys, sorry it's so short :/

Warnings:Panic attack, blood, being sappy

Every night was usually the same. You'd kiss him bye, give him his snack and send him off on patrol. He'd make some joke about the foot wearing pajamas and be on his merry way with his brothers. Come home at 5:30 a.m. sharp, take a shower and crawl into bed.

It read 6:55 and you were still waiting with your towel and pajamas.

The morning chill ran through the sewers and did not help with taking you off edge. The nervousness that had started in your stomach as a small worry had now grown into a paranoid and fear ridden mess. What made it even worse was when Master Splinter stayed up to wait for the boys and hands wringing as he looked at the first peak of sun shift through the grates over passing tunnels. Multiple times you called Michelangelo but you only got the sound of his cheery voicemail.

"Yo! Im not here at the moment but just leave a message after the sound of the tiny truck backing up!" It never failed to make you laugh but now it was one of the worst things to hear as the images of him of his brothers lying dead in the freezing winter of New York flashed across your mind. Unwillingly taunting you for your uselessness as an aid and how you only provide with them home. With him home.

The clock ticked louder and louder with each second and Master Splinter took to standing at the entrance of the lair listening for his children. You had already prepared the first aid kit and mending station incase but your nerves wouldn't allow you to sit still.

It was 7:15 by the time you heard the familiar groans of the pipes notifying someone's return. But noone shouted victories nor did Mikey call out tricks on his skateboard. Instead the first thing you heard was Leo's voice booming, a leader giving directions.

"Don first thing You need to do is get the station set-up! Raph careful with his side! C'mon Mike you need to stay awake!"

All four brothers rushed in all at once, the quite now broken with Raphael talking to Don mumbling and leo urging his brothers to pick up speed. They had all looked worse for wear but at the first sight of Michelangelo you gasped.

His side was gashed open all the way from where his shell met his back to cutting two inches through his plastron. He was pale and clenching his eyes shut, lip inbetween teeth as Raphael laid him out to be examined. Blood trailed a path leading from the entrance across to the bed, staining the huge area carpet and concrete.

"Mikey?" You had called for him out of instinct and your voice sounded faint, broken into pieces. Somehow around all the squabbling though he opened his eyes and met them with yours and dispte the state he was in he gave a watery smile and his eyes started to look glossy.

"It's okay baby, I'm okay, it isn't bad please don't cry! Don't-" his words are cut off by Donatello shutting the screen around them and even in pain the first thing Michelangelo does is comfort you. The extent his empathic abilities take him is astronomical but despite his words being reassuring His struggle for breath and strained voice crying has you clasping your ears. The world around you looks fuzzy but inside you feel constricted and all you can do is make out the shape of Raph and His father running to catch you as feel yourself fall. Your chest stuttering and heart hammering in your ears as you're moved and held in someones arms, back pressed against someone's chest. A tired but firm voice reaches you beneath your hazardous breaths, guiding you to a calmer state.

"Breath in. Breathe out. Feel my chest y/n, breathe with me. We're one and we feel the air fill our lungs" Your vision is the first to clear and then your body untenses. The palm of your hands have been scratched by your nails and now you can see that Leonardo is on the floor with you, a big hand pressed to your chest and another on your leg as he continues to breathe with you.

Everything is quiter now that you've calmed down and even though you feel your exhaustion take you to sleep you still ask

"What about Mikey?"

------

You bolt upright, sweaty and horrified as you relive the nightmare of Michelangelo's body and voice. The way his eyes reached your's and his form shook, The fear deep inside you that had become true. Everything was dark and quite but you heard the mumble of voices through the pannels and curtains. The distinct sound of Mikey's voice had you scrambling out of your shared bed and rushing into Don's lab. Your adrupt appearence had both younger brothers turn their heads to look at you. Michelangelo was still layed out but what was a horrible gash was now a clean, bandaged side and his face was more relaxed and his body did not shake. Donatello was the first to speak albeit awkwardly.

"He's far more stabilized now and he won't need another change till the next hour or so. I'm gonna head to bed but you guys can talk for a bit" with that he picks up his notebook and phone, already heading off. Mikey, never having took his eyes off of you, speaks

"You okay angelcakes?" Your eyes widen at his question

"Am i okay? Babey you were the one who came in hacked up, i should be asking you the very same thing" he opens his mouth, a joke ready but you cut him off, "I-I mean, what am i supposed to say? I was the one sitting down here waiting for you scared out of my shit and doing nothing. I had no idea what was happening out there and I wasn't there to protect you!" You're face feels flushed and eyes teary, "You could've died, all of you! And I wouldn't have known because I'm sotting my stupid ass down here! Wondering the worst!" You take a deep breath, "I thought I almsot lost you..."

Looking back up to meet his face you realized you're both crying and on instinct you go to wrap your arms around his neck, careful of his side. Michelangelo's face is burried in your neck, already you feel his tears in your hair and shirt. His voice is muffled but you hear him

"I know you feel like you can't do much Y/n but just you being here ready for me is enough. Knowing that even if I'm bloodied up or fighting for life, you staying up to wait on me is enough. This isn't gonna be the last time this happens but it's you and me against the world, remember? That's what we promised eachother. We keep promises now don't we?" You're nodding is answer enough for him as he kisses your ear and pets the back of your head

"I love you babey, okay?" You pull back, face to face with him as you try to pull a smile for him.

''Yeah, I love you too''

#Ray writes #tw blood #tw panic attack #tw injury #Michelangelo x reader #Mikey x reader #Tmnt x reader #little bit of angst #little bit of love #he makes for great angst #like honestly #anon ask #im proud of this one ngl #pathetic i know #Teenage mutant ninja turtles x reader #Tmnt #Teenage mutant ninja turtles #Mikey #Michelangelo

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 4 years ago

Text

working late

warnings: none

word count: 1k

oh look at that, another grey’s anatomy reference, if you were waiting for a sign to watch it this is your sign, go watch it rn :)

Harry did not like working late. It was probably his least favorite part of the job. He hated when his manager approached him when he was just about ready to go home, saying there has been some issue and he would have to stay. He hated pulling out his phone and opening his messaging app. He hated clicking on your smiling face and drafting a text. He hated thinking about how upset you would be as he typed "I'm so sorry, I'll be home late again, don't wait up, I love you". He hated how sweet your replies always were; it made him feel more guilty. You would respond with something like "don't worry about it, I'll see you in the morning💕" and it made his heart ache.

He hated unlocking the door at 3 A.M., slipping inside silently so he wouldn't wake you. He hated getting ready for bed, making no noise, before sliding in next to you. He hated waking up in the morning without you, because you had already gotten up and started your day. After all, you had been sleeping for 5 hours by the time he got in. It wasn't your fault his schedule was so unpredictable.

Even though working late was undeniably awful, there was one aspect he didn't completely hate. Most nights, you would go to sleep soon after he texted you. Sometimes, though, you decided you wanted to stay up.

Your face brightened when you read his message, quickly typing back "thanks for letting me know, but I'll stay up tonight! I want to say goodnight in person".

He smiled as he read the response, wondering how long you could last before crashing.

Harry: That's very sweet of you, see you in a couple hours! Y/N: :)

Harry texted you as often as he could, updating you on what he was doing and how soon he would be home.

Harry: Sorry babe, we keep having sound problems, it'll be a few more hours :( what are you up to? 9:36 P.M.

Y/N: watching grey's anatomy, ofc :) 9:40 P.M.

Harry: I already knew that, I didn't even have to ask 😂 9:42 P.M.

As the hours wore on, he could tell you were getting more and more out of it. Every few texts, you would misspell a few more words.

Harry: What episode are you on? I need a distraction because I'm getting bored here, might fall asleep 😛 11:39 P.M.

Y/N: teh one wit h the shooter :((( I migth cry because a lot of people die😢 11:39 P.M.

Harry: Don't cry baby! I'll be home soon and then we can cuddle :) 11:40 P.M.

Y/N: suonds g oood 😌 11:42 P.M. Harry: Still up love? 12:23 A.M.

Y/N: yes I m noy goin g to skeep I am st aying awake e 12:25 A.M.

Harry: Are you sure about that? You can go to sleep if you're tired. 12:30 A.M.

Y/N: no im 100%¥ awajr adn readdy tob seey you 12:33 A.M.

Harry: Ok, they said it's going to be about two more hours, think you can make it? 12:36 A.M.

Y/N: i can staay awadke imm no t a chidl 12:41 A.M.

Harry: Alright, talk to you soon️ :) 12:49 A.M.

Harry: We're wrapping up here, maybe 30 more minutes. Still awake? 2:05 A.M.

Y/N: i a m stlil up adn wacthing tv a nd wraedu to see yoy soon n 2:15 A.M.

Harry smiled down at his phone. He had absolutely no idea what she was saying, but it was cute nonetheless.

"Ready to run it again?" Sarah asked, pulling him from his thoughts. He sighed, tucking his phone back in his pocket.

"I think just once more, I'm running out of energy and Y/N's going to be mad."

"Alright then, let's not keep her waiting. Here we go, from the top!"

Harry: Finally done, heading home now! 2:41 A.M.

Y/N: yra seew yluo snoo 2:47 A.M

Harry chuckled as he started his car. He doubted you would be awake when he got home; he would probably find you passed out on the couch with the TV still on.

His suspicions were confirmed when he stepped inside. When he looked into the living room, he saw the second thing that make working late not so awful.

You were sleeping, cuddled up in a blanket while the Grey's Anatomy theme song played softly. He smiled, stepping into the room and flicking off the TV. You stirred when he sat next to you, moving the blanket so it could cover him too. His heart melted when you sleepily shuffled closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

"Are you awake, love?" He murmured, stroking your hair.

You groaned, pressing your face into him and inhaling his scent.

"I've been awake the whole time," You said, voice heavy with sleep.

"Sure you have," he smiled. "Why don't we go to bed, you'll be more comfortable there."

"Hmm... ok," you said, finally opening your tired eyes to look at him. "I really was awake."

"If you say so," He laughed, standing up and holding out his hand to you. You took it, pulling the blanket around you and letting him lead you down the hall. You collapsed onto the bed immediately, pulling him down with you.

"Can't you at least let me change?" He laughed when you grasped his hand as he tried to pull away.

"Fine, but be fast, I'm tired," you mumbled, reluctantly allowing him to move away.

He came back after a few minutes, sliding into the bed and cuddling you close to him. He ran a finger across your shoulder, smiling as you sighed in content. He could stay like this forever, just holding you and listening to your even breathing.

Maybe working late wasn't so bad after all.

#Harry Styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #fluffy #harry styles x you #harry styles/you fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x reader fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction

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obx-adventures · 4 years ago

Text

The Introverted Twin

Summary - Being John B’s bookish twin isn’t easy. Especially with my best friend, Pope, being weird about me getting closer with JJ.

Warning: Smut

A/N: Thank you all for reading my first series. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 😁

Catch up here: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9

——

Chapter 10

When I next open my eyes, I’m surprised to find myself alone. I reach for the nurse’s call button and notice the stiffness in my muscles. How long have I been unconscious? After I press the button, I see a note on my legs that I missed before.

Y/N – I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up. I’ll be back as fast as I can. Love, Bird

When the nurse comes in, she offers me a small smile, introduces herself, and begins checking me over.

“Nice to see you awake, Y/N. I need you to do me a favor and not try to talk. Your vocal chords are still swollen, and they need more rest. I am leaving a pad of paper and a pen for you to use. I need to call the doctor and let the police know you’re awake.” Using the paper and pen, I ask the nurse how long I was out of it. “3 days. Your brother and the injured blonde have been here the whole time. I don’t know what your relationship is with the blonde, but by the looks of it, he thinks the universe revolves around you. I’m not sure where they are now but I’ll call your brother to let him know you’re awake. I’ll be back soon.”

Thirty minutes later, Deputy Shoupe walks into my room with another officer.

“Ms Routledge, I’m happy you’re awake now. The nurse told me that you aren’t allowed to talk but please write your answers on the pad of paper, ok?” After I nod, he asks his first question.

“When you walked into the house, was Luke Maybank assaulting JJ?” I write ‘Yes’ and show the officers.

“Did you see JJ hit Luke or do anything else to defend himself?” This time, I write ‘No’ and wonder if JJ’s dad was trying to say JJ attacked him.

“To your knowledge, was this the first time Luke Maybank has abused his son?” I think for a few seconds and question what JJ said when asked this question. I tentatively point to my previously written ‘No’ and hope that JJ doesn’t hate me for this.

“Was this the first time you saw it happen?” I point to ‘Yes’ in response.

“How do you know it happened before?” I grumble a bit, wondering if the deputy doesn’t believe me. On a fresh sheet of paper, I write ‘JJ came to my house, had bruises, said it was his dad’.

“And you believed him?” I glare at Deputy Shoupe and aggressively point to ‘Yes’.

“And it happened more than once?” I tap on ‘Yes’ and try to convey my anger. The police can claim that they knew nothing about Luke’s abusive behavior as much as they want, but it was the worst kept secret in the Outer Banks. They are just as complicit in this as everyone else.

“When did it start?” I feel like I’m betraying JJ but write ‘After his mom left’.

I still remember the first day that JJ came to the Chateau covered in bruises. He told John B that it was a kook, but I’ve always been able to tell when he was lying. I took him into the bathroom to give him first aid and called him out on it. He finally admitted it was his dad but begged me not to tell my dad or JB. I still feel ashamed that I didn’t. I could have saved JJ so much pain.

“JJ said you tried to run away but his dad grabbed you. Where were you going?” I roll my eyes at the officer to show this is a stupid fucking question and write ‘To call ‪911‬’. It takes everything in me not to add ‘duh’ at the end.

“Did JJ try to get his dad to let you go?” I close my eyes, trying to block the image of Luke batting JJ down when JJ tried to help me. I point to ‘Yes’ and hope this is almost over.

“What happened?” I chew on my lip to keep my emotions in check and simply write ‘Luke hit him more’. I decide Shoupe will ask if he needs more detail than that.

“Did you try to intervene?” I want to yell out but instead hastily write ‘I pushed him off and tried to help JJ up’.

“But Luke stopped you?” Again, I roll my eyes at the stupid question and point to ‘Yes’.

“How?” I can’t write my response because my hands are shaking so much.

My panic attack comes quickly and the alarms on the monitors I’m still attached to start going off. The nurse rushes into the room at the same time my brother arrives. John B takes my hands and squeezes gently to get me to focus on him. Once the nurse decides I’m not having a medical crisis, she turns off the alarms.

“Deputy, I need you to leave. You’re upsetting Y/N too much. You can try again another time.” I look at her gratefully and then focus back on my brother.

Once everyone else has left, I pull my brother in for a hug and feel him start to sob into my shoulder. We hold each other for a few minutes, and I can’t help crying with him. After we let each other go, I pick up my pen and paper to ask the question I need the answer to the most. Is JJ ok?

“JJ was released from the hospital yesterday. The Heywards volunteered to take him in while his dad was in jail.” I must look confused at this new information because my brother adds in, “Pope and JJ seem ok. I don’t know, it’s a little weird. But Pope begged his dad to let JJ stay with them.”

I point back to my question, hoping my brother knows that I’m asking about JJ’s emotional wellbeing now. I can tell he understands when he starts fidgeting in his seat.

“JJ isn’t doing very well. Before he was discharged, he was here with you as long as the nurses would let him be. After getting discharged yesterday, he came right back and stayed with you last night. He’s angry at everyone most of the time but then he breaks down in tears when he’s here and thinks I’m sleeping. It’s been… a lot for him. I had to take him to the Heywards this morning for his first DCS visit. That’s where I was when you woke up. I got the call that you were awake right as I was dropping him off and he yelled at me when I told him I wouldn’t bring him back with me. I just… I know that DCS will take him away if he doesn’t do what they want and that would be worse for everyone.” I nod at my twin and grab his hand so he knows I think he did the right thing.

John B spends the next 15 minutes updating me on everything else I missed while I was out. Apparently, when Shoupe called DCS for JJ, he didn’t tell them about my involvement. He told John B that they’ve been keeping an eye on us and he didn’t want to bring DCS in unless absolutely necessary. I was surprised by this and JB shrugged while telling me that Shoupe said that they knew I was the one keeping us all alive before our dad disappeared and we’re less than a year from being legal adults anyway. JJ’s dad has been charged with assault and attempted murder based on what Kie and JJ reported to the police. JJ has refused to see him and DCS wants him to start therapy to deal with the abuse he endured. Kie and Pope have been to visit twice a day and they rotate through since there can only be two visitors at a time. Kie has been making sure that John B and JJ have been eating.

Even though I’ve only been awake for an hour, I feel exhausted. John B notices my eyes beginning to droop and he encourages me to nap. My nurse comes back in to offer me pain medication, but I refuse despite every inch of my body throbbing. I worry that I won’t be able to wake back up quickly when JJ gets here and I desperately need to see him.

Unfortunately, that worry was baseless because JJ doesn’t come.

----

It’s been two days since I woke up and JJ still hasn’t been to see me. I don’t understand why and the worry is eating at me. John B said that he was angry at everyone, but I didn’t think that included me. I guess I was wrong.

“How was speech therapy today?” My brother pulls me from my thoughts of JJ for the third time today and it takes me a second to respond. I’m only allowed to speak with my therapist, so I need to write out how much it sucks. I had my first session on the day I woke up and the therapist has been back twice daily since then. The doctor told me that I have nerve damage to one of my vocal chords and that it can take time for it to heal.

Before he can ask me another question, I ask him about JJ. “I don’t know what his problem is. Pope said he isn’t talking to anyone other than Mr Heyward. And before you ask, I don’t know why he’s talking to Mr Heyward when he won’t talk to the rest of us. I’ve been letting Kie worry about that so I can just focus on you.”

I know my brother has spent every possible minute at the hospital and I can see the effect this has had on him. He is exhausted from trying to sleep in the uncomfortable chair next to my bed. I’ve tried to send him home to sleep but he won’t go. He also hasn’t been eating much but he claims he just doesn’t want to rub it in since I’m still not allowed to eat yet. When Sarah was visiting earlier, she confirmed my suspicion that he was lying about that, so I’ll need to keep harassing him.

I write that he isn’t allowed to stay tonight and Sarah will be here ‪at 8pm‬ to get him. He tries to argue with me but we both know that I’ll win, especially with Sarah on my side. When he finally leaves, I let myself break down completely for the first time. The physical pain is overwhelming but it’s nothing compared to the fear, stress, guilt, worry, anger, and frustration I’m feeling inside.

----

I wake up in the middle of the night to the feel of calloused fingers tracing along my skin. At first, I worry I was dreaming but when my eyes open, I find my favorite blue eyes staring into mine. JJ is frozen in place, allowing me to grab his hands before he can move away. He finally relaxes and I release one of his hands so I can tenderly caress his bruised face. He leans toward me and rest his forehead to mine.

“Sunshine, I’m so fucking sorry. I will never forgive my dad for what he did to you. I will never forgive myself for letting it happen.” I try to give him a reassuring kiss, but he pulls away. “I shouldn’t be here. I just needed to see for myself that you’re ok.”

I start to panic at his words and tighten my hold on his hand so he can’t leave. I know I’m not allowed to talk but this is too important. I can’t let JJ think this is his fault. I need him to know that I love him.

“J…” I croak out. My voice is hoarse and I need to take a small break between each word but I push through it. “I… love… you… I… need… you… Please… stay…”

JJ collapses on top of me and sobs into my chest. I run my hands through his hair to soothe him and start to cry too.

“I thought I lost you, Sunshine. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me after… after what my dad did. I’m… I’m so sorry… When I woke up when they were putting me in the ambulance, I thought… I thought he killed you. I needed to see that you were ok. And then you kept passing out… I was so worried that you would pass out and would never… would never wake up again. When it happened the last time and you didn’t wake up… I lost my mind. Then you did when I… when I wasn’t here. I guess I just thought it was the universe telling me that you… that you’re better off without me. I tried to stay away but I’m too selfish. I had to see you again, even if you were asleep.”

When both of our tears run dry, JJ sits up slightly, but I don’t let him get out of arms reach, still afraid he’ll bolt. I grab my pen and paper and write that I was afraid he was angry with me that his dad is now in jail.

“What?! No! Of course not! I never want to see him again. I told Shoupe everything. I hope he fucking dies in there.” He climbs into the hospital bed, wraps his arms around my shoulders, and gently pulls me into his side to cuddle. I feel the remaining tension in my body melt away now that I’m in his arms.

“Listen, I… I know the last time we talked I said we were a mistake. I’m sorry. I thought I was doing what was best for you so you wouldn’t have to choose. I need you to know that you, us… we are the best thing that has ever happened to me. We could never be a mistake.”

I lean my face up and kiss him gently. His arm tightens around me to pull me closer and I wince at the pressure of his arm on my ribs. He releases me immediately and I need to grab his hand again before he tries to withdraw his arm completely. We wordlessly compromise on a position change and we quickly fall asleep in each other’s arms.

----

Two weeks later

“Sunshine, John B is pulling up the van now. You ready?” I give him a thumbs up as I switch over to the wheelchair. When he pushes me outside a minute later, I cry in relief.

The doctors wanted me to go to a rehab place to continue with my therapy, but I refused, desperate to get home. After some haggling, we agreed on a plan that none of us are happy with. I am being discharged home under 2 conditions: I come to the hospital every weekday for a session with my Speech Therapist and I only talk when I’m at my sessions. My nerve to my right vocal chord is still damaged from the pressure of Luke’s thumb. The doctors are concerned I’ll need a minor surgery, but my therapist thinks I just need more time. I have a follow up with the whole team ‪in two weeks‬ to decide.

When we get back to the Chateau, Kie, Pope, and Sarah are there with a welcome home banner, balloons, and flowers. JJ guides me inside and begins to mother over me as I get settled. He’s been like this since the night he came to visit me. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t try to carry me from the van to the couch. Once he’s confident I’m settled comfortably, he moves so the others can see me. None of them have been able to visit much because of the hospital’s two visitor rule so they are quick to surround me.

“Y/N, I’m so happy you’re home!” Kie throws her arms around me and I’m surprised to see tears when she pulls away. I remind myself of the scene she walked into at the Maybank house and ask her how she’s doing using my trusty pen and paper. She rolls her eyes at me and tells me not to worry about her, but I make a mental note to check in with her daily.

Sarah and Kie spend the next hour filling me in on everything I’ve missed over the past three weeks. I tune them out, giving the perfunctory responses when needed, and look over at Pope. He’s watching me from the other seat, and I can’t tell what’s he’s thinking. I offer him a cautious smile and he returns it but that’s it. Whenever he has visited the hospital with Kie, he asks how I’m doing and then let’s Kie do the rest of the talking. Other than the brief interaction we had in the emergency room before my surgery, we haven’t had a substantive conversation. I actually thought through how that conversation would go multiple times in the hospital and even wrote out my parts in my notebook for when he’s ready. But I won’t push him now since I’m just happy to have him here at this point. JJ said they talked it out but won’t give me anymore details. I guess, for now, I just need to wait him out.

----

Two weeks later

“Give me the keys, JB.” My brother’s eyes widen at the sound of my voice and he rushes over to me, hugs me tightly, and spins me around in celebration.

“You’re cleared?” I roll my eyes at my twin’s stupid question.

“Nope, I decided to say ‘Fuck them, I know best’ and start talking and driving without their approval.” Like always, he does not appreciate my sarcasm. It’s finally feeling like my life is getting back to normal.

“Can we go back to you not talking again? I think I liked you better silent.”

“Whatever, give me the damn keys.” He tosses them to me and smiles proudly.

In the five weeks since the night from hell (everyone else calls it the ‘incident’), I have had to rely on everyone else for almost everything. When I was in the hospital, it was the hospital personnel, my brother, or JJ. After I was discharged, it was all of the Pogues. Kie and Sarah appointed themselves my stylists (I think they were just taking advantage of me being unable to argue with them about it) while John B took over all the household duties (and confessed that he has a new appreciation of everything I do for him). Pope has been the ‘runner’, taking every opportunity to get out of the Chateau to go pick up anything we need. He’s still withdrawn around me, but I catch him watching me whenever JJ is close.

As for JJ, every waking moment has been spent by my side. Mr Heyward has a strict rule that JJ needs to sleep at their house every night for now and, surprisingly, JJ has complied. He leaves ‪at 11:45pm‬ each night and returns ‪at 7am‬ the following morning. Since I’ve been so tired while my body recovers, I’ve fallen asleep and woken up with his arms around me, only aware that he left because he tells me.

“You’re completely cleared? Ribs too?” he asks from the passenger seat.

“Yep, my ribs are almost fully healed and the nerve to my vocal chord is good to go. I need to go back in 2 months for a follow up but that’s it.”

“Thank fuck! Being the responsible one is exhausting.” I chuckle at my brother, glad that he got a taste of my life for a while. “What are we going to do today?”

“I am dropping you off at Sarah’s for the day. You need to start paying attention to her again. I’ll be fine and I have other things to do.” I turn my head towards him and waggle my eyebrows. He pretends to gag and looks away.

“Ew, I don’t want to know about that!”

After I drop John B off at Sarah’s, I text JJ to meet me at the Chateau in 30 minutes. I arrive before him as planned and take a quick shower. I put on light makeup, trying to replicate the look Sarah gave me for our date, and change into the other dress that Sarah left here when she helped me get ready. I give myself a once over when I hear the door open and JJ call out my name.

“Sunshine, you in here?” he calls from the other side of the door. When I open it for him, he is stunned into silence. His gaze rakes up and down my body and I smile when he returns his eyes to my face.

“Hi, J,” I smile as we lock eyes. “Guess what?”

“You’re talking…” He looks at me in awe. “Are you… did they say you’re ok?”

In response, I step closer to him, place his hands on my hips, and wrap my arms around his neck. He has been hesitant to touch me during my recovery, so I know that I’m going to need to show him that I’m not as fragile as he thinks.

“I am more than ok. I have you.” I give him a tender kiss but pull back before he can deepen it. I have too much to say now that I have my voice back. I guide him over to my bed and get comfortable so we can talk. Before I start, I reach into my bedside table and pull out one of my most prized possessions. “JJ, I am so in love with you. I have been since my 10th birthday party when you gave me this bracelet.”

“You still have this? Didn’t your dad have to cut it off when you sprained your wrist?”

“I saved it from the garbage in the middle of the night. You were the first person outside of my dad and JB who made me feel special. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out how to tell you how much you mean to me. But I can’t find the words. I just love you and can’t imagine my life without you.”

JJ stares into my eyes as his brim with tears. I gently brush his tears away and cup his cheek with my hand. He leans into my touch and closes his eyes for a moment.

“I thought I was going to lose you, Sunshine. I thought my dad… I thought he killed you. And then you woke up and I thought you would never want to see me again. But you… you still love me. After everything, you still want me. I… no one… after my mom… Thank you.”

I kiss him tenderly and move to straddle his lap so I can be as close to him as possible. This time his hands settle on my hips without me prompting him. I deepen the kiss and feel his hands move to my ass. My hands move into his hair and I tug slightly, eliciting a moan. I kiss down to his neck and suck gently on his skin, leaving a small mark. I kiss back up to his lips and JJ takes over.

He stands up slightly, gripping my thighs tightly, and lays me down on my bed. He hovers over me, kissing me roughly while one hand moves under my dress. He pulls back and looks at me in surprise when he realizes I’m not wearing any panties. I smirk at him and bite my lower lip. He moves back to my mouth quickly and takes my lower lip into his mouth, biting slightly. His hand covers my bare ass and squeezes firmly, earning the moan that he was aiming for, as his mouth moves down my neck and sucks harshly, likely leaving a much larger mark than I gave him. He kisses his way back up and licks his tongue along my ear lobe. I whimper in disappointment when he removes his hand from under my dress causing him to chuckle as he covers my breast. He teases my nipple over my dress, discovering that I’m also not wearing a bra, which spurs him to kiss down my neck to my shoulder and uses his teeth to move my dress strap down.

I revel in the feel of JJ’s hands and mouth on me for a few moments before I move my hands under his shirt. I’m nervous he will stop me again, so I quickly unbutton his pants and slip my hand in to feel his erection. He shudders when I wrap my fingers around him. He looks back up to my face, trying to read my intentions.

“J, I want you. Now.”

Suddenly, he’s standing up and pulling me to sit on the edge of the bed. He slowly pulls his shirt over his head and pushes his shorts to the ground. His large erection is evident and I’m suddenly nervous. I slowly reach out and trace my hands along the band of his boxer briefs. He lifts my face up so he can see my eyes. While holding his gaze, I pull down his remaining article of clothing and trail my hands up his legs. I lean my head forward as I wrap my fingers around him. When my tongue circles around the tip, he hisses and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Look at me, J.” When he opens his eyes, I bring the tip into my mouth and suck slightly. His hands move to my hair and I can feel the tension coiling in him.

“Fuck, Sunshine…” I slowly bring him into my mouth as far as I can, and his hands tighten in my hair.

As I hollow out my cheeks and suck hard, he groans, giving me the confidence I need to keep going. My hands move to his ass and I set a steady pace, alternating between sucking the tip, licking from the base to the head, and bringing him in and out of my mouth.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa…” JJ steps back. “I want to be inside you when I cum. And if you keep doing that, I won’t last.” I smile smugly at him, happy that I can make him as flustered as he is right now.

He pulls me to my feet and takes my spot on the bed, moving me to stand between his legs. “You going to keep that dress on?”

I take his hand and move it to my back, silently asking him to unzip me. After he does, I let my arms down and allow my dress to pool around my feet. JJ’s eyes and hands explore my naked body and he tenderly brushes over my newly formed scars. Before he can think about what caused those scars, I climb onto his lap and reach over to my still opened bedside table. I hand him the condom and wait impatiently as he puts it on.

Both of his hands settle on my hips and he looks back at me to make sure I want to do this. I move closer to his torso and he gently settles me on top of him. To distract from the initial discomfort, JJ kisses my breast while teasing the other nipple with his fingers. I throw my head back at the deluge of sensations and start moving my hips slowly when I’m ready.

“Fuck, J… this is… umm…” I stop trying to talk once his thumb moves to my clit. I gasp at the added stimulation and can feel him smile against my breast.

He allows me to set the pace of my hips but gets impatient when I become too overwhelmed to move. His hand that isn’t tweaking my nipple moves to my ass and he starts moving me quicker. I feel lightheaded as my internal muscles clench around him. Without pulling out of me, he flips us over so I can lay down on the bed. He kisses up to my mouth and pulls his face away slightly.

“I love you, Sunshine.”

“I love you, JJ.”

He rocks back and forth while continuing to make figure 8s on my clit. As he feels me getting close to my release, he slows down. He repeats this over and over and each time I get closer and closer to letting go.

“Please J…” I beg. He looks triumphant as he starts to rub my clit faster and pumps into me harder with each thrust. When my orgasm hits, I scream out his name and dig my fingers into his biceps. JJ cums quickly afterwards and collapses next to me, both of us out of breath.

“Wow…” I say as he cleans up. “That was amazing.”

He climbs back into bed and cuddles into me. We fall asleep in each other’s arms, both blissfully happy.

----

When I wake up an hour and a half later, I untangle myself from JJ and get dressed again. I leave him a note and rush out to find my best friend. This time, I go to our spot first and am happy to find him at our picnic table.

“Hey Pope,” I say quietly. He jumps at my voice and looks at me with tear-filled eyes. “Why are you crying?”

“I didn’t think I’d hear your voice again.” He jumps and runs over to give me a fierce hug. After he finally lets me go, we sit down in our usual places at the table. “I’m sorry I’ve been so weird lately.”

“Are you… are you still mad at me?”

“No… it’s just hard. Seeing you that night in the emergency room was the worst moment of my life. All I wanted to do was hold you and make you feel better. But I couldn’t then, and I can’t now. That’s JJ’s job… I wanted to hate you for picking him. I wanted to hate him for… being able to be with you. But almost losing you changed all of us. I can see now that he loves you, really loves you. When you were out for those 3 days, I’ve never seen him like that. My dad was the only person he would talk to. He wouldn’t eat or drink. It was like how JB was after your dad went missing. I realized that if I don’t get to be with you, I want you to be with someone who loves you like that. But it still hurts. It’s why I keep offering to go to the store or pick up food. It’s hard to see how you two look at each other. But I’m working through it.”

“I’m so sorry Pope. I never… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.” He smiles softly at me and shakes his head.

“No, Y/N. You don’t need to apologize.”

“Still best friends?”

“Of course. I just need some more time to adjust.” I reach over and take his hands in mine, fighting back tears. We sit like this for a little bit before I head back home.

During my drive back to the Chateau, I think about how much my life has changed over the past two months. The physical and emotional pain have been devastating at times, but I can’t bring myself to regret any of it. I don’t know what the future brings with Luke Maybank’s trial and deciding what to do with my life after high school, but this is the first time in my life that I feel excited about what comes next.

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