#and brush my hair after washing it which is always a nightmare especially now that im losing so much hair after surgery ���😭😭

[likeawolfatthemoon]

i took half my meds for the day (which required me drinking some water) and got up and showered. i am the picture of mental health, unstoppable

[xanaxiii]

"WE WERE BORN TO DIE"

cw: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE! slightly smut, no use of y/n, pet names, dom/sub dynamic, mentions of death, bad health etc.  

words: 1.6k

an: i fucking love old man logan. and im so fucking horny after rewatching this movie so. enjoy.  ♡

Taking care of Logan was a difficult and tiring task. Despite the relationship you two had, he still felt that he couldn't let his guard down and allow himself to get any help. He considered it pointless...after all, his time would come to die too. Looking at how he used his last moments in this world, death was on his tail. It didn't move away even a step. 

Unfortunately for Logan, you were stubborn and wouldn't let yourself watch your partner die day by day. Raised in a way that the act of helping those in need was the most important thing you could do, especially helping someone close to you, you helped him, ignoring Logan's protests. You helped him with the smallest things, trifles. Getting out of bed, getting dressed. Sometimes even washing.

When it came to the latter, Logan would have to be in a real state of intoxication at that point, because he would rather be renewing the X-men than letting anyone help him with such intimate matters. 

 It wasn't that he was ashamed. He just knew he couldn't afford something like that. He was dying, yes, but he had the strength to wash his dick, damn it. 

And, despite his age, Logan still had a hell of a high libido. Maybe his movements weren't as fast and agile as they used to be, but now all he needed was a gentle touch. And your hands were gentle. They were downright angelic as they brushed over his rough, barely healed skin covered in scars and wounds. 

That's why every time you helped him wash, it ended with sex. But Logan didn't always feel like it or have the time, so he avoided it like the plague. Ignoring the pain and the pure need for someone by his side. He could imagine how pathetic it would be to die in the middle of a bath, which made him think about the act with less and less pleasure every day. 

Bright sunlight came through the window, blocked by thick curtains to illuminate the bedroom with its warm, bright rays. Logan turned over, mumbling something incomprehensible into the pillow. He lay exposed, his chest painfully rising and falling as he breathed, snoring softly and sighing. Strands of his gray hair brushed his forehead, his muscles tense even in his sleep. Which was no wonder, since he had been plagued by nightmares since he was a child. He sighed heavily, opening his blurry eyes, looking around the bedroom. He swallowed, feeling the dryness in his burning throat, and slowly sat up in bed. His feet hit the cold floor, his rough hands rubbed his tired face. His gray beard itched, and the heaviness in his heart made him want to leave it all behind long ago if he could. 

But he couldn't do it. He wouldn't leave you. He wouldn't forgive himself for that. 

The corners of his mouth moved as he heard the door creak open and your slow footsteps approaching him. He raised his head, meeting your gaze full of love and lust. It was amazing to him that despite his age, you still considered him the most attractive man on the planet. 

“You woke up.” - your sweet voice, he heard it so often that he memorized what you sounded like. He replays it in his dreams, in his fantasies. With quick steps, you found yourself on the bed next to him, sliding onto his lap. You heard his quiet hiss of pain, for which you immediately apologized. 

Your scent surrounded him. The new perfume he bought you turned out to be a success. The aroma of strawberries and vanilla took over his senses, so without holding back, he lowered his head and smelled you. You giggled, lifting your head to place a kiss on his temple.

Logan moved his large hands to your waist, kneading the soft skin, tugging at the silk material of your nightie.

You were so beautiful. The way you looked, the way you presented yourself. You were like an angel sent from heaven, to him, even though he didn't deserve it. Logan had become completely addicted to you. You worked on each other like the most wonderful drug, completely controlling each other.

"I woke up. I see you've become an early bird." - he whispered, his voice rough and deep, sending shivers down your spine. You wrapped your arms around his neck, brushing your fingers along his muscular back, digging your nails into it, scratching and teasing him. He removed his hands from your waist, grazing your wrists, pushing you away. His gaze was narrowed, but not angry.

"What? Don't you like it anymore, James?"

"Don't call me that…" - he mumbled, lowering his head, touching your heated skin with his cold lips. You were so smooth, so perfect. Logan decided that with each next approach, he would treat you like you were made of porcelain. He was afraid that if he squeezed you too hard, you would fall apart in his hands.

"…Why? That's your name, right?"

He shook his head, parting his lips to clamp his teeth on your neck. You sighed, leaning back a little to give him more space.

"No. I'm not who I was anymore, doll." - saying that, he began to place pleasantly painful kisses on your face. - with that, he began to press pleasantly painful kisses against your skin, forcing your wrists to grip his shoulders. He didn't let go of your hands, even though the urge to roam your body was incredibly tempting. But he wasn't in the mood for teasing this morning. No, he was in the mood for morning, bittersweet sex. You could feel his beard, tickling you as he moved his lips along your throat, biting, licking and soaking like an animal preparing to eat its prey.

"Mhm…" - you whispered, opening your plush, soft, pink lips, catching heavy breaths. The atmosphere in the room suddenly became deadly steamy, especially when Logan's lips found yours. He grabbed your lower lip, sucking, making it turn purple. His way of showing his love for you, despite how much he wished it would be different, was rather painful. But it didn't bother you. Why should it? You didn't mind any of the things your old man did.

Despite all his flaws, spite and whining, he was a really sweet man. You knew he cared about you. You knew because he did everything he could to show you as often as possible. Gifts, acts of kindness, how he would stay overtime to earn more for the two of you. It hurt your heart that he was sacrificing himself like that. You swore to yourself to protect him and take care of him so that he would never feel tired again.

But Logan was so damn stubborn. No matter what you told him, he would question it. It's not that he didn't believe you. He just thought that since he was definitely older than you, he knew better. Which, unfortunately, was often true.

When you broke the kiss, you looked at Logan with concern in your eyes. His eyes were closed, eyebrows narrowed. The wrinkles on his face were more visible than usual, his mouth slightly open as he drew air into his lungs. He was so beautiful. You could stare at him for hours.

You smiled softly, slowly grasping the hem of your thin nightgown with your fingers. You made eye contact with him until he moved to your naked body underneath. You couldn't count how many times this man had seen you in this vulnerable state, but every time he reacted as if it was the first time.

Your creamy skin, soft curves, it was everything he had ever wanted. You were like a canvas standing in the corner of the room, waiting for him to vent his emotions on you. He let go of your wrists, wrapping his arms around your waist to throw you under him.

He groaned, feeling a sudden pain in his knees. In moments like these, he simply forgot how sick and old he was. He hated it, hated how hard it was for him to do basic things, let alone catch up with you in all those intimate matters. But you obviously didn't mind.

Once he had you under him, he gently cupped your breasts, beginning to knead your flesh. Your erect, aroused nipples brushed against his open palm. He swallowed hard, looking up to meet your gaze. You slid your hand into his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails. He tilted his face down, feeling a shiver of excitement run through him, giving him the energy to continue.

Kneading your tits, his lips began to cover your body with sharp hickeys. After a moment, your neck, sternum, and stomach were covered in burgundy stains. You tightened your grip on the sheet beneath you with your other hand, wriggling and arching your back in a delicious way. Logan, which was rare, smiled, letting your hand tug on his hair as you tried to stop yourself from being dramatic and overreacting when he had barely done anything yet. He let go of your breasts, grabbing his leather belt on his pants. He wrapped his thick fingers around the large buckle, unfastening it, throwing it somewhere to the side. He couldn't get enough of the sight before him. You looked so good when you were all naked and marked by him. A reminder that you were only his. A reminder that he had something and someone to come back to.

He reached into the loops of his belt, twisting them until he finally stepped out of his black, suit pants, leaving them around his ankles. He was damn pleased that you were completely naked, left at his mercy. Waiting for every next move from him. When you bit your lower lip temptingly, wrapping a strand of his gray hair around your index finger, tugging on it, Logan realized that you were getting impatient.

"If you really love me, you'll wait, baby." - He mumbled, leaning down to meet your lips again, his hands sliding down his boxers. You sighed as you felt his cock against your thigh, bringing your other hand up to rest on his shoulder, knowing you would need physical support soon.

“Can you do it? Of course you can. You’re so beautiful. All mine.”- His words were drawn-out praise as he positioned himself over you. He looked into your eyes again, searching for any sign of worry or embarrassment, but the only thing that he see was devotion and desire.

His smile widened, causing his wrinkles in the areas of his mouth and eyes to deepen. So restless, so impatient. He had no reason to be surprised. He spent his days either at work or sleeping off because of nights full of nightmares. He pushed you away from him at every possible opportunity, without power for movement. But today was different. He woke up horny. And that was all he needed to be able to please his princess.

Because for you he would do anything, right?

"I need… I need you, Logan, please." - you whimpered, your sweet voice breaking as you narrowed your eyes, raising your altitude higher by listening to him. He let out a quiet laugh, deep and growling, straight from his irritated throat.

Ah. who was he to refuse you?

[prophecyplease]

⁂“𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞, 𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫’’⁂

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐜𝐬 𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞

(not proofread we die like meleanor)

—————————⚡️💚🗡️—————————

↯𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐊↯

-SIMP🗣️

-This man is so insanely clingy when it comes to cuddling you.

-He’s the literal embodiment of lighting, so expect him to be warm.

-Big spoon. No arguing with him on this one. He says it’s for your protection, but you know it’s because he likes to have all of you close to him.

-Slight snorer. It’s honestly cute, and quiet, which is rare for Sebek.

-Contrary to popular belief, Sebek wears “normal” clothes to sleep. Catch this man wearing an old tee-shirt of his dad’s dentistry and some old flannel pants to bed.

-He wears house shoes when out of the bed at night. They’re worn in and comfortable. He prefers being barefoot, but he has them just in case Malleus is in trouble at night.

-Light-ish sleeper.

-He doesn’t like to use blankets. The body heat from you AND him is enough to warm you both up. He uses a comforter and maybe one blanket when sleeping, but even that is pushing it.

-Secretly a big cuddler. He has always been “independent��, it’s nice to take a break from that and have someone to cling onto and be comfortable around, even if it is only at night.

-Set his alarms for early in the morning. He used to have it blaringly loud, but after spending the first night with you and accidentally startling you awake with his god-awful alarm clock, he figured out a way to turn it down.

-He likes to admire you when you sleep. If he’s having a rough night, he likes to look at you and memorize all of your features.

-Loves playing with your hair when he sleeps. He would rather DIE than tell you this, but he adores it when you mess with his hair when it’s all un-gelled and natural.

-Loves it when you put your head on his chest. It makes his heart go a million miles a minute, but you pretend not to notice.

-Knows the importance of hygiene, especially oral hygiene. Don’t think you’re EVER going to bed without brushing your teeth and flossing. He may not like his dad that much, but he does understand the importance of keeping yourself clean.

-Evening shower person. He washes his hair daily cause of all that gel. He smells clean, there’s not a particular scent he likes to use.

—————————🌻🍩🌼—————————

ꕥ𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞ꕥ

-He’s a little spoon if you’re taller than him, and a big spoon if you’re shorter than him. (All of my fellow tall royalty, rise up)

-LOUD snorer. He used to be a lot better, but now that he feels comfortable around you, he lets ‘em rip.

-Wears Leona’s old hand-me-downs as sleep clothes. Probably clothes Falena got Leona that say “Best Uncle” or “#1 Brother”.

-Wears shorts to bed, loose basketball shorts that were also a ‘gift’ from Leona.

-Heavy sleeper and he drools

-Has that internal clock that wakes him up at 6:15 a.m daily, so he doesn’t use an alarm clock.

-Loves cuddling. Absolutely adores the way you hold him so gently and lovingly.

-Blanket hog tho. He likes to be warm.

-He gets the occasional nightmare. He’s always embarrassed when he wakes you up because of them, but he doesn’t mind how you sooth him and comfort him after a particularly bad one.

-When he’s not snoring, he hums in his sleep. It’s something his grandma used to do when he was young, and it somehow made its way into his subconscious.

-Freaks out if he wakes up and you’re not next to him or in bed.

-After he wakes up, he likes to go outside and get some stretching in and watch the sunrise. Asks if you want to join him, and how are you supposed to deny.

-During the weekends, once he’s done with all of his work, he likes to take you to grassy parts of Savanclaw and take naps with you. There’s something about the sun, breeze, and nature that puts you in a drowsy state.

-Big fan of sleeping on your shoulder. If yall are sitting down somewhere, just the two of you. It might have been a long day, might not have, but bro is CONKING out.

-He likes for you to be comfortable too though. If he gets tired of being spooned or the spooner, he’ll lay on his back and put your head on his chest. Or vice versa. He loves to hear your heartbeat.

-Morning shower person. It wakes him up. I feel like he likes to use slightly-sweet smelling body wash and hair products. But it’s also manly enough because he’s in Savanclaw.

-Doesn’t have that much free times in the morning, he does have to work for Leona, but he enjoys the time you two do get together.

-He likes to trace shapes on your hand when you’re sleeping. Whether he knows it or not, another thing that comforts both him and you.

——————————𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒——————————

[tortillamastersblog]

꧁ Angels Don’t Cry - Part 4 | Mor ꧂

Pairings: Mor x reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, injuries, blood, kidnapping, vomiting and explicit language

Summary: After Hybern’s defeat, the Inner Circle makes a grave discovery in the late King’s dungeons. . .

Next Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

Incessant knocking on my door makes me jolt out of bed. My wings drag over the floor as I rush to pull on some clothes because I went straight to bed last night after stripping down to my underwear.

I glance at the clock on my nightstand to see it’s still early, which makes me wonder who could possibly be at the door right now.

“One second!” I shout, almost tripping over my own feet when I try to pull on a pair of sweatpants.

The knocking stops and after making sure my hair isn’t a complete mess I unlock the door and open it.

��Mor?”

The blonde is still dressed in her clothes from last night but she’s put on a jacket on over her dress and taken her hair out of its ponytail. I rub my eyes to make sure I’m not hallucinating.

“What are you—?”

“You’re my mate,” she blurts out.

My mouth snaps shut and my eyes widen. “I— What?”

“You’re my mate,” she repeats herself quietly and looks up to meet my eyes. She’s on the brink of crying and her chin wobbles as she tries to hold back a sob. “I tried to tell you last night, but you wouldn’t listen and then I saw you and Elain in the garden and I got so jealous and I regret all those awful things I said to you. . . I was just so scared because the moment I saw you in your cell the bond snapped into place for me and-and you were on the brink of dying, and I couldn’t bear losing someone else again, especially not my mate, so I kept my distance, but then you started to heal and I was still so scared and. . . I pushed you away and hurt you because I hoped it would stop the bond from forming completely, but then time went by and this hole inside my chest got even worse and—“

“Stop.” I raise a hand and blink rapidly, completely overwhelmed by that tidal wave of information. “Slow down.”

Mor wipes at a tear that managed to roll down her cheek. “Sorry. . .”

“No, it’s. . .” I sigh, still processing everything before stepping aside and gesturing for her to come in. “You know what, why don’t you come in and we talk about this properly over some breakfast. Have you had breakfast yet?”

She shakes her head and steps into the apartment with wide eyes.

“Okay then, make yourself comfortable on the couch,” I instruct softly, after taking her coat from her and hanging it up. “I’ll just freshen up real quick and get some food.”

She nods wordlessly and I vanish into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and washing my face before going to the kitchen and grabbing some of yesterday’s pastries. I also cut up some fruit and make two cups of coffee before taking everything into the living room where Mor is sitting on the couch with her legs folded underneath her.

I hand her a plate and one of the coffees before settling down on the other end of the small couch.

“So. . .” I pop a piece of fruit into my mouth. “You’re my mate?”

She sighs softly and takes a sip of coffee, nodding.

“And you’ve known how long, exactly?” I ask, still not able to wrap my head around this new piece of information.

Mor is my mate. She’s my mate and she was thinking about me when I was gift shopping with Feyre and Elain.

Why was she thinking about me then? What was she thinking?

Clearing her throat softly, Mor puts her cup down on the coffee table. “I’ve always known I had a mate, but until we found you, I had no idea who you were. . .” Her brown eyes flicker over my face as she takes in my reaction to all of this. “I had dreams, well not really dreams but nightmares about this dark little cell for as long as I can remember, but then something in my head clicked and I realized they weren’t dreams. . .”

I shudder when she says that because all those times I was in my cell, bleeding and broken, ready to give up, there was this warm feeling in the pit of my stomach that kept me going. It was her, unknowingly being by my side and giving me hope and the strength to hold on. . .

“That was you,” I gasp. “Sometimes when I had a nightmare, it would suddenly stop and all I’d see after would be a starry night sky. You sent me that vision, didn’t you?”

She smiles sadly and nods. “Even though I didn’t know you, I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering.”

I exhale shakily and take a bite of my pastry to distract myself as Mor goes on explaining.

“The day we found you, the bond snapped into place for me. It was like a punch to my stomach and seeing you so bruised and broken, it- it did something to me. I’ve loved before and I lost that love, so seeing you so hurt and on the brink of death. . . I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you, too.

“I knew what it was like to lose a love, but I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose a mate, my mate, so I kept my distance and hurt you with all the things I said in hopes of driving you away before the bond snapped into place for you too. . . That way you’d never know about it and I wouldn’t risk losing anyone else, but-“ she buries her face in her hands and sobs- “but then I did lose you, after all. . . The way you looked at me the night I accused you of sleeping with Elain. . . It broke my heart. I managed to drive you away for good and even though that’s what I originally wanted, I realized in that moment that I couldn’t live without you in my life. If not as my mate, then even just as my friend.”

I take a sip of my own coffee to wash down the pastry I just ate. Then, it’s silent for a moment as I take in what Mor just said.

She said some pretty messed up stuff, but I get why she did it. It still hurts, thinking about what she insinuated and accused me of, but I get it.

It doesn’t change the fact that I can’t forgive her for it just yet though. Neither does the fact that she’s my mate.

Mate’s might be a complementary match power-wise, but they don’t always work on a deeper level, a spiritual level.

“When Cassian threw you off the roof,” Mor whispers when I continue to stay silent, “something inside of me died. The look on your face when you went over the edge. . . It still haunts me and I jumped after you without thinking. All I felt was this urge to protect you, and then when I wrapped my arms around you and winnowed us to the ground. . . I’ve never felt relief like that before. You were okay. . . You were okay, but then you flinched when I touched you and my heart shattered.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and press the heels of my hands against my eyes. “You jumped after me?”

“Yes.”

A simple answer to a simple question, really, but it reveals just how deep the bond runs for her.

I drop my hands back into my lap and open my eyes again to see that she still hasn’t touched her food. “Do you not like strawberries?”

“Wha—? Oh, no. . . I do, but. . .” she trails off quietly as if to hint at something, but I just raise a questioning eyebrow and gesture for her to go on. “Eating this. . . I mean, you offered me this food and if I were to eat it-it would mean you accept the bond.”

My eyes widen. I’d forgotten about that. . . I don’t know how to feel about the bond (which has yet to snap into place for me), but I’m definitely not ready to accept or reject it yet.

“I-“ I reach forward to take the food from her before thinking better of it- “didn’t know. . . Well, I did, but I forgot and—“

“It’s okay.” Mor smiles sadly and places the plate on the coffee table. “I kind of figured you weren’t aware of what you were doing.”

I dip my chin in thanks and take a sip of coffee to hide my grimace. Then, we go back to sitting in silence.

I know I don’t love her, that’s for sure, but the connection between us is undeniable, especially right now. The bond might still only be one-sided, but it doesn’t mean I can’t feel deep, underlying desperation and regret tugging on my insides that is definitely not my own.

“I should go.

My eyes snap up as she gets to her feet with a thin-lipped smile. She has dark circles underneath her eyes which I am only now noticing and her hair is in disarray.

“Yeah, okay.” I get to my feet as well and watch her make her way to the door where she puts on her coat.

“Y/N?” Her hand is on the doorknob.

I clear my throat. “Yes?”

“I know I said it before, but. . . I’m sorry. For everything,” she says quietly and then she’s gone.

Gone, just like that, without waiting for me to accept, or reject her apology. She’s not expecting anything from me and she’s not trying to pressure me into anything.

Later that morning when I return to the Town House to open the presents with the others, Mor isn’t there, but my gift for her is missing.

A little over a week later, as I’m making my way home from work, I come across Rhysand and Feyre who seem to be in a hurry as they make their way out of a restaurant.

“Woah, hey, Y/N!” Feyre exclaims after bumping into me.

“Hi, you good?” I ask with a breathless laugh which makes her nod frantically.

“Yes, yes, I’m okay, but we just got an urgent message from Azriel about the Cour of Nightmares,” she explains without letting go of Rhysand’s hand.

It’s Friday night, which means it’s date night for them and I kind of feel bad knowing that this is definitely not the first time their time together has been interrupted.

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh?”

Rhysand nods as well, although he does it a lot more composed than his mate. “Keir and his men are on their way to Velaris. It was agreed that they get to visit the city after the war because the Darkbringers fought alongside our troops, but they weren’t supposed to get here until next week in time for Starfall.”

“Well, shit. . .” I mumble which makes Feyre snort.

“Yeah, you can say that again,” she says. “We’re going to meet them at the border right now to remind them of our deal.”

“Wow, okay then. Good luck with that, I guess,” I say, not knowing what else to say.

Rhysand smirks at that. “Thank you, but we don’t need luck to put Keir in his place.”

I laugh at that and step aside to let them pass. “Still, a little luck never hurt anybody.”

Feyre squeezes my shoulder with a tight smile and then they’re gone.

I tuck my wings in tightly to somewhat shield them from the cold before continuing my walk home. I’ve had a long day and I can’t wait to take a shower and then sink into bed with a good book.

As fate would have it though, those plans fly out the window the moment I find a familiar blonde sat outside my apartment door.

“Mor? What are you doing here?” I approach slowly so as to not startle her.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she says, looking up and when her eyes meet mine my heart sinks at the way hers are bloodshot and filled with tears.

I’m quick to kneel next to her, but I don’t touch her, not knowing if she wants that right now. “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and bites the inside of her cheek to suppress a sob. Tears stream down her bare face and the hurt that claws at my insides is written all over her face.

“Okay, okay, why don’t you come inside then? I’ll make us some hot chocolate. . .” I offer and when she nods, I get back to my feet. She takes my offered hand and lets me pull her up before I unlock the door and usher her inside.

She takes off her coat to revealing the long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants she’s wearing underneath before making her way to the couch where she wordlessly takes a seat and pulls a blanket over her feet.

Something in my chest stirs at the sight of her like this, but I’m quick to ignore it as I get to work on making the hot chocolate I promised.

I fill two mugs with it once it’s done and take them to the couch where I hand one to Mor and put the other down on the coffee table.

“You cold?” I ask and when Mor simply shrugs I kneel down by the fireplace get started on lighting a fire.

It started snowing on my way home and even though the apartment is heated by magic, I still like the warmth the fire provides. It also gives me something to do while Mor calms down and gathers her thoughts.

“My father. . .” she says after a few moments as we both watch the logs in the fireplace catch fire, “He’s on his way here.”

I sigh and get to my feet to join her on the couch. “I know.”

She doesn’t seem surprised when I take a seat next to her, our knees brushing as I pull my legs beneath me to mirror her position. “He’s coming here, to my home, to the place I love most in this world.”

I grab my hot chocolate and take a sip, watching her over the rim of my mug.

“I hate him,” she says, clutching her own mug in her lap, “but I’m also scared of him. He’s tormented me my entire life, and even though he has no say in it anymore, I still can’t shake the hold he has over me.”

Judging by the way she whispers those last few words, I’m guessing she’s never admitted that to anyone before, so I tentatively place a hand on her knee.

I don’t know why I did it, but it seemed like the right thing to do, so I don’t pull it back when her eyes snap up to look at me.

A few strands of her blonde hair have escaped the bun at the back of her neck and I have to force myself not to act on the sudden urge to tug them behind her ears.

What is happening to me? A little over two weeks ago I was ready to never speak to her again, and now she’s here in my apartment, drinking my hot chocolate, and confiding in me. . .

“Mor,” I start carefully, making sure to keep my voice low, “I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but what I do know is that you’re stronger, smarter, and kinder than your father will ever be. . . He’s an asshole with an ego that rivals Cassian’s in size and he’s pathetic if he thinks he can actually break the deal he made with Rhys and Feyre.”

“I know that, but—“

“No, I don’t think you do,” I insist, moving a little closer. “You have a family now that is willing to protect you and the things you love with everything they’ve got. They are not going to let Keir hurt you any more than he already has and they won’t let him ruin Velaris for you.”

A singular tear rolls down Mor’s cheek and before I know it I have a pair of arms flung around my neck. I freeze for a split second, but then the unexplainable urge to comfort her overcomes me and I wrap my arms around her and pull her closer until she’s almost in my lap.

She sobs against my neck, shaking in my arms and I make sure both our hot chocolates are out of the way before folding my wings over her and cocooning us in place.

“I’m sorry,” she sobs, her arms around me tightening.

I run my hands up and down her back and shake my head. “Hey, don’t do that. Don’t apologize for feeling like this.“

“No,” she chokes out, “I’m sorry for how I treated you. For everything I said and did and—You should hate me. Why don’t you hate me?”

I sigh and close my eyes. “You already apologized for that,” I remind her. “And I honestly don’t think I could ever hate you.”

It’s true. . . I physically can’t hate her. I was prepared to never see her or speak to her again, but I just can’t hate her. My heart won’t let me. . .

“But—“

“No.” I shush her and squeeze her in my arms. “I don’t hate you, okay? End of discussion.”

That makes her chuckle softly which in turn makes me smile against her temple.

“Thank you,” she mumbles against my chest and before long, she’s fallen asleep against me.

It feels right having her in my arms like this, but the part of me that was hurt by her makes me push those feelings down and pull back from our hug-turned-cuddle.

I lay her down on the couch gently before moving to pull the blanket up to her chest, only to freeze when my eyes land on the golden necklace peeking out from under her shirt.

It’s the one I got her for Winter Solstice and the sight of her actually wearing it makes my heart flutter. The tear-shaped ruby attached to it is hidden beneath her shirt, but it’s definitely the necklace I got her and the fact that she’s wearing it means she must like it.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” I whisper before finally covering her with the blanket and retreating to my bedroom.

The next morning when I go back into the living room, Mor is gone. The blanket is folded and draped over the back of the couch and our hot chocolate mugs are in the kitchen sink.

For a moment my heart sinks at the prospect of her just leaving without saying goodbye, but then my eyes land on a small handwritten note on the coffee table.

Thank you.

- M

I stare at it for a moment, studying the simple message written on it in sloping letters before folding it up and shoving it in my pocket with a warm feeling in the pit of my stomach.

________________________________________________

[madam-mitsume2023]

Only Time Will Tell.....

Ever since your diagnosis the brothers have visited you daily. The guilt they felt was unbearable.. the Purgatory pals are disgusted and angry with the seven brothers with Diavolo and Barbatos embarrassed. The brothers don't even blame them as they have been hating themselves ever since. The visited you everyday of the week.

🖤Lucifer🖤

As the eldest. He felt the most responsible and most guilty. You were supposed to be under his care as well but he just tossed you to the side. His Pride took a hit to. Nobody saw him as who he used to be. He never fought back on it either. After all, He damaged the little pride you had left. He would always be doing his work in your room at a desk, Occasionally glancing at you while signing documents. He not only failed Prince Diavolo by taking care of you, But he failed you to by not being your support.

"MC.. I wish I was good at apologizing but all I can say... is sorry"

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

💛Mammon💛

He was the biggest spender of the brothers.. always gambling.. but now... he quit and instead was donating any Grimm he can muster to help you, if not he would buy you gifts such as get better cards, flowers, your favorite sweet which he would be glaring at Beel to not touch, or any gift. He'd sit by your side and even fall asleep holding your hand

"Hey MC.. I got ya enough flowers to make a bed.. since I don't think my lousy apologizin will do any good... still... I'm sorry"

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

💙Leviathan💙

RN was who he saw as a his favorite character. But he realized you were the original design he loved. You were someone who helped open his shell, and he kept it open.. he doesn't know why he closed it on you but opened it for Mila. He plays your favourite game beside you in your comatose state.

"Hey Norm- MC... I am so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me... you are probably dying because of me right?"

The last part of what he said tore him to tears.

"MC! PLEASE WAKE UP!"

���Satan🖤

This guy is full of rage and remorse. He destroys everything from his and RN's memories. The memories of glee that brought someone to go down. He hated RN, his brothers. But who does he hate the most? Himself.. he didn't realize what he did until MC fell ill with Dolorous disease. He currently was reading your favourite book to you like you were awake. Even glancing at you to see if you opened your eyes.

"MC... I can't spit out enough apologies... you deserved better than us.."

💖Asmodeus💖

This guy became the opposite soon after... unkempt, disorganized, eye bags, pimples, even yellow teeth and his smell is... not as great as he used to smell.. currently he is giving you a makeover. He washes and brushes your hair, brushes your teeth, massages you and everything.

"MC... you never were ugly or fat... you are still beautiful even in this... state... I promise to make it up to you."

❤Beelzebub❤

Man.. he is having PTSD flashbacks... Lilith died because of him... now you? No... he can't lose you! Difference between you and Lilith. Beel felt regret as he couldn't save both sister and brother. He chose RN over you all the time. He feeds you your favorite snacks while you are out and stretches your limbs. He can't have your health be worse....

"Oh MC.... I am so sorry I left you all alone.... Lilith will never forgive me... I can't forgive myself either."

💙Belphegor💙

He also has flashbacks of Lilith's death and the time he killed you . He blames everyone including himself for your condition. He sleeps with you and every time he has a nightmare, rather it is you dying. Or a repeat of what happened or he doesn't even sleep at all. He cries and hugs your body inhaling your scent. He wished you were awake.

"MC.... I don't want you to die... especially because of me and my dimwitted brothers.... I miss you more than Lillith.... I am sorry MC..."

[vid-writes]

Protesters Shake the World (Ch. 5)

As always this story and all of it's contents are intended for adults only. Please do not interact with this story in any capacity if you are not 18+

Kari and I are to return to my kingdom in the morning, and we are both awoken by a flurry of activity in our respective chambers. The morning sun is thrust upon me as one of the maids yanks open the thick and heavy curtains.

"Good morning, Your Majesty. We are under orders from Queen Caitlin to get you ready for your departure back home," greets the woman who continues to open the curtains in my room; so much for privacy and royalty.

"That sounds nice," I mutter between stretches as I watch a few more maids scurry into my chamber carrying various things. Some have trays of food, and the others are organizing my outfit for the day. The maid who opened all the windows busies herself with emptying my wardrobe.

"What are you doing with all of my clothes?" I asked as I slipped out of bed and tugged on the robe. I tossed it on the chair closest to my bed.

"We heard from Prince Kari you wanted your pockets enchanted to hold more than they're supposed to. So, we are taking them to the baker, Alexandria, who is capable of such magic, and getting your pockets enchanted, Your Grace," explains a maid with bright blue hair who is steaming away the wrinkles in my dress for today. Usually, I get to pick my outfits, but now and then, my outfits get picked for me. Usually, I don't say I like it, but Queen Caitlin has prepared for the trip today.

I quickly eat the breakfast that a maid brought me, and then I'm ushered into the bathroom. Several of the ladies make to follow me into the toilet but seem to think better of it.

"If you need any assistance washing your back or anything, please just yell. One of us will come in and assist you however you need," the blue-haired maid offers to me. I nod and gently shut the bathroom door. I'll be damned if anyone bathes, shaves, and primps me before my wedding day. And I'll only tolerate that because tradition states I must.

A warm bath, full of bubbles and steaming from the heat, already awaits me. The air is full of steam and smells like cinnamon with a soft hint of mint. They have also learned my favorite smells.

After the bath, in which I took my time relaxing, I got out to find a warm fluffy towel and a silk robe hanging on a hook for me. Back in my room, which is now a flurry of maids cleaning, I find the maid who opened all my curtains waiting by the changing screen.

"Let's get this over with," I huff out as I step behind the screen and drop the robe. The maid's only response is to chuckle and hand me my underwear. The dress doesn't have a built-in corset, nor does it require one, and I sigh in relief. They're pretty, but they're a fucking nightmare to wear.

Once the form-fitting silver dress is on, the maid pushes me over to a vanity. During the time it took her to dress me, it seemed everyone, except the blue-haired maid, cleared out. My room is just as clean as it was a week ago.

"My name is Galexia, and I am Elidi's girlfriend," she introduces herself, and it takes all of my self-control not to turn around and look at her, especially when she starts drying and brushing my hair.

"That's such a beautiful name," I reply as the feeling of her doing my hair starts to relax me. Having someone do my hair is the only part of tradition that I love. It is otherworldly and relaxing on a different level.

"Thank you," she nearly whispers as a blush creeps into her pale cheeks, but her cerulean blue eyes light up with pride. Usually, the lighter shade of blue in someone's hair would clash with eyes that dark, but it really makes her look like a galaxy, as her name suggests.

She braids my hair into a single simple braid down my back and then places a small box on the vanity in front of me. I'm so used to this box shape I know what it is before I open it. Still, the simple silver crown, shaped like a mountain at the crest, makes my breath catch in my throat. It looks exactly like the mountain that the training arena sits nestled into.

"This is so gorgeous," I breathe out in awe. Galexia takes the crown from the box and places it in my hair. I now see why she did my hair so simply. So as not to take away attention from this gorgeous crown.

"Queen Caitlin actually commissioned this one as a gift for both of you," Galexia adds the statement offhandedly as we are leaving my chambers.

And the crown has its desired effect on Kari. His eyes light up at the same time his mouth falls open. Lydia not so discreetly elbows him. He ignores her and crosses the foyer to meet me at the bottom of the stairs.

He extends a hand to me and recovers his expression into a smile that snatches my soul from my lungs, "Shall we go, my radiant star?"

"Radiant star, huh?" I muse as I grab his hand and let him draw me close to his side. He's leading us to the grand entrance, where our limo waits outside before he finally answers.

"My flower is too cliche. It's only been a couple of weeks, but you've already lit up my life. I was having a tough time of things before my Father told me I was in line to bid for your hand in marriage. That you've already had me smiling non-stop hasn't gone unnoticed."

My heart thuds in my chest as a soft warmth creeps up in my stomach at the admission. We are tucked in the back seat of the limo when our chaperone joins us. It's none other than Elidi herself.

"Well, that explains why Galexia was so down when I saw her leaving Flora's quarters earlier this morning," Kari says as a way of greeting her. It's weird to hear that, considering Galexia was so kind and seemed relatively upbeat this morning.

"She's good at sticking to formalities and traditions. She actually prefers most of them and says they give her a sense of stability," Elidi explains as if she can read my thoughts. However, it's probably just my facial expression.

"So nearly opposites like Kari and I," I say more than ask. She smiles and nods before we fall into a comfortable silence as the limo starts to pull out of the palace grounds. Everything is going smoothly with this trip until we get to the border of Sorith.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesties, for having to lower the divider without permission, but I thought you all might like to see this," the driver explains himself as the thick black glass rolls down fully. In front of the car is the only highway through the Sorith Kingdom. And it's packed full of people as far as the eye can see. Many of them are shouting. All of them hold signs. I even see kids littered among the crowd and also armed with signs and words of anger.

"What are they protesting about?" Elidi asks, her voice laced with tension. I turn to look at her, and fear is all over her face. To my surprise, she's taken off the long coat she wears as part of her Honor Guard uniform, and underneath it, there are guns strapped into holsters slung over her shoulders. She winks at me and turns her attention back to the driver.

"Well, seeing as this is the only highway in this Kingdom, I'd probably guess it's got something to do with that," he offers up with a shrug.

"They're going to have to move," Elidi seethes. Her red eyes are dancing with the flames she wields.

"You go ahead and tell them that, then, Miss Elidi, because I'm not going to," the driver says. Elidi grunts and opens the door to which she is sitting next.

"Is that really a smart idea," I practically shout as the wave of noise slams into the car through the now open door.

"It doesn't matter. You two need to get back to Vrathia. If we have to go around through the Drudour Kingdom, we will have to add a whole extra twenty-four hours to the trip. To say your Father would be displeased, My Lady is about what will happen if we don't get through Sorith," Elidi calmly explains to me as she stands facing the crowd of protesters. Not waiting for my response, she shut the door and headed towards the crowd.

Nervousness and fear start to creep up in my stomach. The nearest field of wheat is already dancing taller than average because of my aura. The wheat's abnormal movement seems to have drawn the attention of a few protesters, who are all staring at it in awe.

Elidi gets close enough to one of the protesters, and they start talking. Kari's hand wraps around mine and squeezes it tightly, but I don't take my eyes off Elidi. I've seen footage of protests turned riot at the simplest of things from a couple of the other continents of social media, so I know how bad this can get. And how fast it can go down. Kari's phone rings and breaks the tense silence in the limo. The sudden sound makes all three of us jump a few inches.

"Hello, mother," he says. His mother's voice is smooth as he answers the phone. None of the fear I can feel radiating off of him is present in his voice. He waits for his mom to finish speaking, his face unreadable.

"Yes, ma'am. Elidi is speaking to them now. She's trying to see if she can—" his mom cuts him off. I can barely hear the sound of her voice through the phone. She sounds tense and scared. "Yes, Mother, right away," Kari says as he hangs up the phone and gives me a sympathetic glance.

"Well, what did she say?" Whether the annoyance is present in my voice or not is the least of my concerns right now.

"She said I am to go and retrieve Elidi, and then we are to turn around and take the long way back to Vrathia. My parents and yours, Flora, already knew about this. They wanted to send us this way with no knowledge of the protest. No one even informed the driver. I should have suspected something was weird when the shadow limos didn't fall in around us once we were far enough into the trip. They wanted to see how we would handle a situation like this. We've done good, but I have to get Elidi before she accidentally instigates something worse," Kari explains, then slides out of the same door Elidi left. I'm sitting in the back seat mulling over what Kari said when it happens.

Kari catches Elidi's attention. She turns away from the protester she was talking to. Kari is explaining the phone call. The protester lunges at the same time and my aura surges. He tackles Elidi and starts to wrestle her for her guns. The wheat is already in action. Racing past the protesters and then mowing them down, it snags the guy off of Elidi and wraps him tight in its supernaturally thickened stalks.

I slide out of the door Kari left open, and all eyes turn to me. The crowd is silent. The protesters I knocked down with the wheat are barely getting back up.

"We were leaving. Elidi turned her back to get orders from her Prince, and you attacked her. What a pathetic fucking coward you are." I bite out each word with another step towards the man. Gasps roll through the crowd, and I know my eyes are blazing green. I have yet to tighten the hold the wheat has on the man. "Apologize to her, and we will leave you in peace like we intended to," I add as I reach Elidi and help her get to her feet.

"I'm sorry," he spits out at Elidi. I have half a mind to squeeze him until he means the apology, but that would make me just as bad as him—worse, actually. So, I let him go, even gently setting him on his feet. I could have dropped him.

We are back in the car, and everything is piling in when I feel something tug at my dress. I look down to see the dirt-covered face of a little girl. She's holding up a fistful of wheat with a grin splitting her round black face. I gently take the grain as her parents come running over.

"We are so sorry, Your Grace. She shouldn't have bothered you," they both rush to say as the mother scoops up the little girl.

"Nonsense. She was just trying to express her feelings." I wave off their apology and climb back into the limo. Kari and Elidi both look like they have something to say to me, but neither of them has. The driver rolls up the partition as he turns around the limo.

When either one seems ready to talk to me, my phone chimes. At the same time, we pull into a gas station for our first rest stop. Three shadow limos are already waiting, with the Kroqales flags flying on little flagpoles mounted to the windows.

I pulled my phone out of the only pocket of this dress. Galexia informed me that the baker had enchanted the pockets when the tailor-made this dress. The notification is an alert from the program I had our IT guy set up on my phone. It alerts me to any social media postings that involve me.

My mouth falls open when I click on the notification, and it takes me to one site where a video of what happened at the protest starts playing. It begins when Kari gets Elidi's attention, so it shows the man attacking her unprovokedly.

"What are you watching?" Kari asks, his voice still clipped from the earlier tension. I don't trust the tightness in my throat, so I turn my phone to show him the video. His face pales, and so does Elidi's, from where she leans across Kari to see the video. Suddenly, there's not enough space and too many eyes on me. The video and others like it are why I try to stay off of social media despite what the rules expect of me. It's the worst when tradition and modern-day meet in a way that works.

"I think I would like to stretch my legs for a few minutes," I say as I tuck my phone back into my pocket.

"Do you really think that's a good idea when I watched that video gain a hundred thousand views in the thirty seconds it took to play?" Kari's voice has lost all of that earlier anger and is only laced with concern right now.

"I didn't do anything other than defend Elidi and prevent him from getting his hands on a weapon. I have been kept secluded in my kingdom my whole life and treated like the little flower princess I am not. I do know guns are illegal in Sorith. I also didn't say I was going alone, but I am going. One or both of you can follow; I don't care," I nearly growl out the last few words as I throw open the door to my side of the limo. Before either of them can protest again, I slide out of the limo, and the biting chill of the wind meets my skin.

It was hard to tell because of the tint on the windows, but the clouds had indeed gotten heavier than earlier this morning. This week, I've just seen snow clouds, but those are definitely snow clouds. I head towards the large chain gas station as Kari and Elidi catch up to me. They flank me on either side and as much as it annoys me, I allow them to do so.

As soon as we enter the store, which isn't busy but does have a decent crowd, every pair of eyes snaps towards us. Before I can even allow their whispers to start up, I turn on my heel and march right back out the door. I continue walking until I reach the limo and slide into the seat below the privacy glass. Elidi and Kari silently climb back into the spots they were in before, and the driver pulls out.

Buy me a coffee?

[outofangband]

Himring era Maedhros and his morning routine

Angband World Building and Aftermath of Captivity Masterlist

 a lot of these have appeared in various stories of mine and headcanon posts but I had too much fun writing this, as always the physical and psychological aftermath of Angband is an area of huge interest to me so always feel free to ask more!

I’m going to do my Humans next

Wake

After certain nightmares this is easier said than done. The nightmares do not always receded at once, touches linger upon his body, shadows remain distorted as his eyes adjust to the gray light of Himring mornings, at times sounds echo in the corridors beyond his door and it is not always easy to tell himself he is no longer in Hell. The memories of the throne room, the cliffs, the lashes and worse too often cling to him as he starts his day.  Maedhros sits up with difficulty, breathes the cold but fresh air, his fingers gripping at the woolen blankets. 

Stretches

 Maedhros frequently neglects these especially after Dagor Bragollach but there are a number of stretches he develops with the aid of healers post Angband that help to alleviate the stiffness that arises from any periods of immobility even sleep. After spending so long in stress positions, in extended enforced immobility, and suffering damage from multiple sources to his limbs and muscular system, Maedhros has severe mobility issues and chronic pain. As he regains his physical skills some of it lessens but some of it is also worsened as Maedhros pushes himself far past his limits. 

Wash

Water and sometimes scents in soap and oils serve the dual purpose of cleansing and grounding. He has a basin of water prepared at night for the next morning. It’s cold water from one of the rivers at the base of Himring, boiled to distill it but left to cool back overnight. The oils and soap are often pine scented because that’s what’s readily available. During more prosperous times, floral scented items might be sent as gifts. Maedhros won’t bother with bathing but he’ll wash his face, sometimes brush through his hair a bit or at least tie it back. Actual baths are more of a process that he’ll do at night if time and energy allows. He has standards he has to meet as Lord of Himring but everything is neglected in times of war. 

 Dress

After about a year post rescue Maedhros is mostly able to dress independently though he had not yet developed methods to mitigate strain and pain. He is eager to regain independence, sometimes at his own expense after the devastating loss of autonomy and extreme fear associated with helplessness that came with his imprisonment.  In Himring he has the skills relearned where he can usually dress without aid though on bad pain days it can be seriously difficult.  He wears light underclothes and leggings or stockings under a tunic and long breeches and almost always has some pieces of armor, usually at least vambraces and a chest piece. As it’s Himring he frequently has more layers too, large woolen and/or fur coats, scarves, and hats. And of course thick boots. 

For some time after his rescue and well into his time in Himring Maedhros wore braces on his back and legs which would be taken off at night and then put on again as part of his dressing routine. 

Depending on the stage in his life, he might put on his prosthetic now though sometimes he prefers to wait until he’s about to leave. 

Eat (sometimes) As I’ve discussed a lot, eating is a difficult area for Maedhros and he prefers to have his meals alone. He’ll often have a small breakfast brought to him or just put it together himself the night before to have at his desk before going to meet with advisers and generals and attend to his other duties. Often it’s fruit, fresh in the summer, dried otherwise, sometimes meat and sometimes hard breads. A flask of water or a warm wine if it’s very cold. 

Other Sometimes ointment is applied to older injuries or other medicines taken. His prosthetic does require some maintenance that will sometimes have to be done in the morning. Sometimes he scratches at his body in the night and sheets or bed clothes have to be sent to be laundered. The fire will be put out. Maedhros does not usually make his bed nor does he bother having anyone else do it. 

News  First thing after leaving his room is to see if anything has changed in the night, if word has arrived from his allies or enemies, if any sightings have been reported, if scouts have returned, if letters have come from his brothers, etc.  Losses are addressed, replies back are written or dictated, plans and strategies changed accordingly. 

Ignore, deflect

(Requests and asks are open and welcome)

[buckleysbravery]

and really, it's the way that even though you've been ready, you still waited for me (or, the 5+1 of it all) [ BUDDIE ]

SUMMARY -- the five times eddie diaz slept elsewhere, but then the one time he stayed. WARNINGS -- obscene amount of fluff. there's angst too. explicit language (somewhere, i think, maybe?), it dives briefly into trauma but it's not extensive, a little proof read (but really not at all), sickness but not graphic, poor christopher diaz has nightmares AUTHORS NOTE -- am i really diehard buddie if my first fic isn't buddie? no. obscenely long title be damned. 5 days + 5.1k words later and it is finally finished. wowza.

Despite having hit the one year milestone into the relationship, the “when are you moving in together?” questions started six months into their relationship, Buck and Eddie still hadn’t moved in with each other. Neither of them questioned why not, because they knew there was more harm than good in pressuring someone to do something before they’re ready. So, they settled with Buck occasionally staying the night with the rarity of Eddie sometimes staying at Buck’s sprinkled in for good measure.

Only, it wasn’t going to be as easy as either of them initially believed.

1.

“Chris okay?” Eddie asks not long after Buck reenters the bedroom. If he was going to be completely honest, sometimes it was still a weird concept that Eddie had someone to co-parent with. He knew that sometimes Christopher would want Buck there at bedtime, in favour of Eddie, but it still hurt deep.

“He’s good.” Buck reassures him, he knows it’s important that Eddie knows Christopher is okay; especially when Eddie isn’t doing bedtime, or the school pick up, or drop off. Or all these moments that Eddie had alone before, but now Buck shares them. “He’s had his bedtime story, and now he’s tucked up in bed fast asleep. Christopher is safe.”

Eddie nods, and now he thinks he can complete his nighttime routine a little better. He’d forgotten he was fresh out the shower, towel wrapped around his waist whilst water drips from his hair onto his neck and forehead. The silence shared between them as Eddie resumes his nighttime routine, whilst Buck starts his own nighttime routine, is easy and comforting. “Thank you.” Eddie’s voice is a whisper, but the kiss Buck presses to his temple before he steps into the shower lets Eddie know he has been heard.

It’s fifteen minutes before they climb into bed together. It’s a routine which they both timed out perfectly one evening. On the nights Christopher asks Buck to read the bedtime story and tuck him in, Eddie showers. By the time Christopher is tucked up and fast asleep, which varies anywhere from 30-45 minutes, Eddie is finished in the shower. Just before it’s Buck’s turn in the shower, he’ll confirm that Christopher is asleep. 

Buck’s quicker at showering, and he’ll wash his face and brush his teeth under the shower at night. Nobody claims to understand why, but Buck tells everyone it saves on time and on water. They take it as the truth – but really, Buck’s normally too tired to do it separate from the shower. Eddie just finds it endearing, really. Eddie brushes his teeth and cleanses his face, and by the time he’s done, Buck’s finished in the shower so both men dry themselves off and change into their sleepwear of choice. Eddie sleeps by the door, Buck learnt not long into their relationship. He’s, by nature, a protector. And Buck doesn’t mind, not in the slightest, because he loves Eddie. And oh — how Eddie makes him feel safe.

Sleep, like always, comes easy to Buck. It comes with a soft kiss, a whispered I love you, and then he is out. Eddie’s always wondered how he does that, but really, it’s just so Buck. And so, Eddie closes his eyes and hopes that sleep finds him. But when he’s still awake an hour later, he knows he’s fucked. But he tries again, because he does really want to sleep next to his boyfriend, because he’s done it before. He’s frustrated by the fact he feels different this time. So he slides out of bed, grabs his pillow, and instead goes out to the living room.

And as soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light. Here’s the thing, Buck is a very predictable person, and Eddie has memorised what time Buck will wake up. And whilst he usually wakes up to make Buck a coffee for when he first wakes up, this time it’s to make Buck his usual morning coffee, and then to not arouse any form of suspicion from his boyfriend.

So, when six thirty rolls around, Eddie wakes up to tidy away his temporary bed before making Buck a coffee. And whilst Buck is none the wiser to Eddie’s other sleeping space, it doesn’t stop the guilt. “I slept on the couch last night.” Eddie’s voice is a whisper, and Buck’s very confused. “When you fell asleep, I couldn’t fall asleep so I grabbed my pillow and slept on the couch all night.”

But Buck is still, very much, the epitome of confusion. And panic, as Eddie is quick to discover. “Why’d you sleep on the couch? Did I do something wrong? Do you not want to sleep with me anymore? Have you stopped loving me?”

And oh — how Eddie’s heart bends, then breaks. “No, baby.” He’s quick to reassure his boyfriend. “I know we’ve been together for a year and you’ve stayed over a few times so really this is nothing new to me but-” he pauses, trying to think about how to express his feelings, “I know we’ve also been getting a lot of people pestering us about when we’re going to move in together and I guess it just had me freaked because the last romantic partner I lived with was Shannon.”

“That’s okay.” Buck is, without a doubt, one of the most supportive people that Eddie has ever met before. Sometimes he doesn’t understand what he did to deserve Evan Buckley, but he knows that he will never take him for granted. “I can’t tell you a lie and pretend that you being freaked out about living with me doesn’t sting a little bit. But I can tell you that it is okay. When we first got together, we promised each other that this would be something we would take at our own pace. If you’re nervous about something, we wait. Quite frankly, I don’t care about how long it takes for us to move in together. I’ll love you all the same.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just kisses his boyfriend. “I love you all the same, forever.”

2.

Carefully balancing the tray carrying soup and tea up the stairs, Eddie can hear Buck before he can set eyes on him again. The flu had taken hold of him, so he’d relinquished himself to the loft for a few days. “Hey honey.” Eddie reminds himself to keep his voice quiet, not wanting to cause any more distress to his boyfriend than necessary. “I’ve bought you some chicken broth and some honey and lemon tea, figured it’d soothe that throat of yours and keep you hydrated.”

Buck moves to look at the man through bleary eyes, grimacing at the mere mention of food. He’d been unable to keep anything down for a few days, and Eddie was growing more worried with each hour that passed. “Don’t wan’ food.” Buck’s tired, terribly so, and Eddie can only feel guilt knowing what he’s about to do. “Wan’ sleep.” Buck mumbles, trying to lay himself down. The exertion, however, only makes him cough.

“I know, mi amor.” Eddie can feel his heart breaking, but he knows he needs to get Buck sitting up once more. Pillows are rearranged until he’s as comfortable as he can be, and Buck just sniffles sadly. It’s hard going through this with Christopher, Eddie thinks, but Christopher is a kid, and he’s not the one unable to do what he was born to do until he’s fully recovered. “I know you want to sleep, and baby I promise you can soon, but you just gotta eat and drink for me first. If I can’t get that fluid intake up myself, you’ll get severely dehydrated which you know is an immediate ER visit. How about if I spoon feed you, hmmm?”

Buck knows all this, but he also knows he’ll throw up anything he’ll consume; he supposes it’ll be a bit less painful if he’s got something in his stomach beforehand though. He nods pathetically, tears lining his blue eyes. It’s a long thirty minutes before the soup is all done, and although Buck feels even more weary than before, the warm broth gives him an ounce of energy back. Just enough energy to drink the tea himself. “I know Abuela made that soup.” Buck whispers whilst Eddie fixes the pillows so he can sleep. “You suck at cooking. She obviously dropped it whilst I was asleep.”

Eddie pretends to ignore it, although he knows it’s the truth. Buck had been out of it for the entire day, giving Eddie plenty of time to clean up the apartment and tell Abuela it was safe to come round with the soup. It warmed his heart, however, that Buck recognised Abuela’s cooking when he tasted it. “You just go to sleep, mi amor.” Eddie whispers back, brushing Buck’s hair off his sweaty forehead once the man had laid down once more. He lays with him, flu be damned, “I’ll even stay with you until you fall asleep.”

And true to his word, he does. He’s there right until Buck’s snoring practically rattles around the apartment. Eddie places a soft kiss to the sweaty forehead before he collects the bowl and mug on the tray, wordlessly carrying it downstairs and loading it into the dishwasher. A quick spruce up of the apartment, and a quick shower, before he settles himself on the couch and drifts off to sleep.

3.

It’s 3am. Evan Buckley solemnly swears that he hates 3am. If only for one reason: he absolutely cannot get to sleep. And, like a desperate man, he’s tried everything. He’s tried cuddling with Eddie, that didn’t work. He tried lying with his back to Eddie, which sucked and also didn’t work. He’s tried playing some soft, gentle music in the hopes it would quieten his thoughts, but that didn’t work. And if Evan Buckley was being truthful, he was getting very very fed up with his predicament. So, he tried the failsafe option of getting Evan Buckley to sleep each time.

Waking the other person up to pester them with questions until Buck got so tired he’d fall straight to sleep. That person just so happened to be one Edmundo Diaz.

“Eddie!” Buck whispered, very loudly, but to no avail. Chewing on his bottom lip, he thought for a good thirty seconds before trying the one method that would 100% definitely work — even if Eddie would end up getting annoyed when he realised it was a false alarm. “Hey Eddie, there’s a fire in the kitchen.”

Naturally, at the mention of fire, Eddie’s eyes shot open and he sat up. Buck took one look at the panicked look in his eyes, trying not to giggle, before looking at him very solemnly. “Sorry, I needed to wake you up and that was the only thing I could think of that’d work.” Buck apologised, completely ignoring the murderous look in his partners eyes in favour of pressing a very soft kiss to the man’s shoulder.

“I hate you.” Eddie deadpanned, climbing out of bed to double check the apartment was definitely not about to burn to a crisp. Once satisfied, he climbed back into bed and invited Buck to cuddle into him. Deep down, he knew this was not the first time Buck’s done this, and it was likely to not be the last time, and he was growing increasingly concerned at how often this was happening. “What’s wrong, mi amor? How come you’re not sleeping again?”

“Just couldn’t sleep.” Buck shrugged, and Eddie had to concentrate very hard to not giggle at the tickling feeling of Buck’s hair on his chest. Both men hated how much of a regular occurrence this was getting, and Eddie made a mental note to ask Buck if maybe it was time to seek professional help in the morning. “Can I ask you a question?” Buck’s voice was serious this time.

“Any question in the world, mi amor.” Eddie had to practically fight back the yawn, deciding to settle the two of them back down into a lying position.

“Would you still love me if I was a worm?” Buck asked, his voice completely serious. Eddie blinked once, then twice, then three times. But he still could not make any sense of the question which had just been asked of him. And Buck, sweet Buck with a heart dripping pure gold, assumes Eddie just hadn’t heard the question so he asks again. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

A beat of silence before, “yes. Wriggly body and all.”

Buck thinks for a second, wracking his brain for another silly question to ask but instead a very serious one pops into his mind instead. “Would you still love me if I wasn’t a firefighter?”

Eddie can’t help but think Buck sounds sad. He knows what he’s thinking about, and Eddie silently questions if that’s the reason he’s not been sleeping so great. “Baby, is that why you’ve not been sleeping great? You only think I love you because you’re still a firefighter?”

Buck doesn’t say anything, and Eddie knows that he’s hit the nail on the head with that one. And oh, how it breaks his heart to learn his partner thinks that. “Mi amor, I would love you no matter what job you were in. You could be an arsonist, and I still wouldn’t love you any less. The love I have for you is not defined by any career you have now, or in the future. I love you, because you are you. The fact you’re a firefighter and I get to spend so much time with you is just extra.”

“Thank you.” Buck whispers, grateful for the reassurance. Eddie presses a soft kiss to his forehead, with such a tenderness that Buck knows that this is something he wants forever. He knows that time as a firefighter is not promised, and one day an accident may take him out of the field, but it feels oh-so-good to know that Eddie will not love him any less. “I love you too. No matter what.”

“No matter what.” Eddie agrees, filling the room with such a pure, warm love that it seeps into their very bones and Eddie thinks it makes him just a tiny bit more tired. “Come on, mi amor. Let’s get some sleep before tomorrow.”

Buck thinks that it’s a very fine suggestion, but his brain is itching to ask one more question. And Eddie can sense it too, “if you ask a stupid question I’m sleeping on the couch.” He threatens, voice serious. But Buck doesn’t care, he knows it’s not serious.

“Would you still love me if all my fingers were teeth and my toes were noses?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just gently rolls Buck out of his arms so he’s free to climb out of bed. Buck looks at him as he grabs his pillows, and the one stupid throw blanket Buck’s ever so insistent about keeping at the end of the bed. “I’m going to sleep on the couch. Goodnight.”

Eddie tries not to giggle as he quietly stomps down the steps, settling himself in for the rest of the night on the couch. Despite not being anywhere near him, he can still tell Buck is about to protest and demand he comes back to bed. “Goodnight, Evan.”

Yeah, Evan Buckley thinks, this is forever.

4.

If there was one thing Edmundo Diaz knew to be absolutely true about Evan Buckley, it's that he was a very, very, very incredibly hard person to sleep in the same bed with. The snoring never bothered him, and whilst he wouldn’t openly admit it, neither did the 3am questions most of the time. The one thing that really bothered him? The incessant wriggling.

Eddie knew Buck couldn’t help it, he knew Buck was a very restless sleeper, but it was just infuriating when Eddie had just come off a 24 hour shift, with Buck might he add, and just wanted to sleep for the next 19 hours. Instead of having a peaceful sleep, Eddie was woken up several times by Buck’s incessant movement.

He didn’t let it bother him too much, however, for Buck usually went back to his own apartment after the two of them had spent the day asleep in Eddie’s bed. There was laundry, amongst other household chores, that needed to get done so Eddie was always incredibly grateful for a peaceful night's sleep.

So really, it only truly left Eddie feeling disconcerted when Buck stayed at his house the night before a 24 hour shift. Christopher had been dropped off at Abuela’s house and tucked into bed by Eddie for 8pm on the dot, so Eddie had been able to drop down into his bed with Buck at 10pm without worrying too much about his son. He had fallen asleep at 10:30pm, but by 11pm, however, he had been woken up twice.

“Alright Buck, there we go.” Eddie whispered, manoeuvring his partner's body into a safer sleeping position before going back to sleep. He was asleep for maybe 45 minutes before Buck kicked out again, waking Eddie up and resulting in a cushion or two being put in between them in the hopes it would alleviate it a little bit. “There we go, mi amor.” Eddie was a patient man, he truly was, but he would be lying through his teeth if he said that his patience wasn’t wearing thin a little bit.

Eddie was woken up one, two, three more times before his patience had worn thin enough to take more drastic measures. But he knew it wasn’t Buck’s fault at all, so Eddie just made sure the floor was cushioned enough to reduce the risks of serious injury should Buck fall off the bed before grabbing a spare pillow and heading out to the couch in the hopes he would have a better sleep.

When morning came, however, and Buck woke up rather cheerfully, Eddie woke up more grumpy than usual with an incredibly stiff back. He was, also, adamant on not sharing the real reason he slept on the couch for fear of making Buck self-conscious so just settled with the excuse of not being able to fall asleep so instead Eddie ended up falling asleep in front of the television.

And if Buck didn’t believe him, well, that’s something he would never tell.

5. 

After everything he had been through in his short life, it really was not a surprise that Christopher Diaz had nightmares. It was hard on Buck to see a boy with such an immensely bright personality cry, but as his father, Eddie Diaz took it personally. Rational thinking Edmundo Diaz would know it was the trauma, but parent Edmundo Diaz who got up every time his child called out for him felt like he was the worst parent in the history of parents.

“Daddy!” Christopher’s voice echoed around the Diaz household, pulling both Buck and Eddie out of sleep. Buck sleepily checked the time on his phone, 1:00, whilst Eddie sighed a similar sigh of a broken man and went to comfort his child. And oh — if Eddie’s heart split into two pieces so painfully before, it had now. “I had a nightmare that you died because of the bad man and Buck drowned!”

“Oh Christopher.” Eddie sighed out, wrapping his arms around his sobbing child. The worst day of his life was when he believed that Christopher Diaz, his heart and soul and very reason for living, had been claimed by the tsunami that wrecked Los Angeles. And he knew that one of Buck’s, and Christopher’s by extension, worst days was when he was shot by a sniper at a call that station 118 was not even called out to. “Mi hijo, no matter what happens to us, me and Buck will always fight to come back home to you. And right now, we are safe. We are home. And you are safe.”

Eddie stayed until Christopher fell asleep. Every single night it happened, Eddie always reassured him the same way, tucked him back into bed, and stayed just until Christopher had fallen asleep once more.

It got onto the seventh day of nightmares when Eddie took the boy to a therapist. And individually, and a family, they worked through their traumas. And Christopher seemed like he was getting better.

Until, of course, four weeks after they started therapy.

“Daddy!” Christopher’s teary voice echoed around the house again, waking up both Buck and Eddie. Buck checked his phone, 1:00, whilst Eddie sighed and climbed out of bed to comfort his son. And oh — how it broke Eddie’s heart once more. He knew that the nightmares would not stop just because they had started therapy, but it had been three and a half weeks of no nightmares. “You and Buck died and so did mom.”

“I know mom is no longer with us, Christopher.” Eddie began, laying on his bed and letting his child get comfortable. This was going to be a long night, for all of them, and as much as Eddie wanted his son to be happy, he would never exchange all the moments he got to hold him; as though he was making up for lost time. “But she died with so much love in her heart for you. And you still have so much love in your heart for her and that’s why it hurts so much and that’s why you have bad dreams sometimes. But I am safe, and Buck is safe, and you are safe. And mom would say it is okay to use some of that love for someone else. Because mom would just want you to be loved, and she will never stop loving you.”

Christopher nodded, smiling sadly up at his dad. “So, I can use the love I have for mom for Buck? And she wouldn’t be upset, because my love is making someone else happy?”

“Yes, mi hijo.” Eddie pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead. It amazed him, sometimes, just how smart Christopher was, and just how much he understood things in his own individual way. “You can use as much of mom’s love on Buck as you want. And even if you didn’t use all of the leftover love, it would still make Buck the happiest. Now sleep, Chris. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Can you stay even when I fall asleep?” Christopher asked, his big brown eyes red from all the tears. And oh — how Eddie’s heart started healing itself at the look; a look he recognised well, from Shannon, and in recent months Buck, and he can’t help but wonder if Buck had picked up the Christopher Diaz puppy-dog eye special. “I know that you normally go after I fall asleep but I think I need you to stay all night tonight.”

“I am here until the sun rises, mi hijo.” Eddie promised, moving himself to get comfortable on the small bed before the two Diazes fell asleep. And well, if Evan Buckley slept on the floor of Christopher’s room all night, that’s something he would never tell.

Even if Edmundo Diaz knew that he had.

+1.

It had been the longest twenty-four hour shift in recorded history. Evan Buckley was almost positive of that fact. And every time he spoke it into existence over the past twenty-four hours, he was met with comments that 24 hours is still 24 hours, it does not change in length.

“‘M so tired.” Buck mumbled, leaning his head on Eddie’s shoulder in the back of the truck. With eyes closed, he missed the looks his friends were shooting at each other, even if he could feel them practically burning into him. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Eddie practically burned holes into Hen, and Chimney’s phone as they both took pictures. Whilst he was incredibly unsure what Hen was planning for hers, and (not that he would ever admit it) slightly terrified for Buck, Eddie was 110% sure that Chimney had sent his photo to Maddie. Either way, he would persuade one of them to send it to him; that was a lockscreen photo for sure. Eddie waited until the familiar sights of the firehouse before he pressed a soft kiss to his boyfriends sweaty head, “hey Buck. We’re back. Shifts over, come on.”

It took Buck a minute or two to get reacquainted with his bearings, and by that point Bobby, Hen and Chimney had already jumped out of the truck and into the locker room. As soon as he was fully aware, and Eddie was positive he wasn’t about to fall out the truck, the two men jumped out and ditched their turnouts, “ugh. I cannot wait to get home and sleep.” Buck grumbled, changing out of his department mandated uniform and into his civilian clothes before following Eddie out of the firehouse and into his truck.

“Chris is at Abuelas for the weekend.” Eddie grinned at his lover, turning the radio onto a quiet station before pulling out of the parking lot.  Ordinarily Christopher being at Abuela’s would mean some incredibly hot, steamy sex for the duo but the rough twenty-four hour shift they had just pulled had other plans. “48 uninterrupted hours of junk food, shit telenovelas and all the sleep we could ask for lay ahead of us.”

The sleepy smile that Buck threw in Eddie’s direction was still bright enough to rival the force of the Sun, and it was a smile that one Edmundo Diaz could bathe in forever. It had felt like hours before they had reached the Diaz residence, both weekend bags forgotten in the trunk as they both stumbled up the pathway and into the house. Two showers and a very tasty order of Chinese takeout later, the two men collapsed into bed.

“You don’t have to sleep in the bed if you don’t think you want to, Eddie.” Buck’s voice was quiet but in the silence of the house, Eddie heard it all the same. He didn’t say anything, unaware that Buck was even aware of all the times he had slept somewhere else. “I know you’re still adjusting to someone else sleeping in the bed, and I know there was that time I was sick so really it was nobody’s fault, or the fact I ask stupid questions at 3am when I can’t sleep. Or I wriggle too much, or Chris has nightmares. I know about all of that. And, it’s okay.”

“Are you sick right now?” Eddie asked, and Buck blinked owlishly at him as he tried to process the question he had been asked. Eddie sighed, it wasn’t that Buck was entirely stupid, it’s just sometimes he could be a little bit stupid. And Eddie loved him for it, until it stopped the two of them from actually sleeping. “It’s a really easy yes or no question, Buck. Any fever? Nausea? Aches and pains? Sore throat? Headache? Stomach ache?”

“Eddie, stop it. We’re not at work, stop trying to diagnose me with anything.” Buck’s smile was fond, and he would be lying if it didn’t look like Eddie wanted to smack him a little bit right now. “I have a headache from lack of sleep and a stressful shift. I do not have any other symptoms. I am not sick.”

“Okay.” Eddie breathed out, pulling an incredibly confused Buck into his arms. “Now that we have come to the conclusion that you are very much hot, but not sick. Is Christopher here?”

Evan Buckley was getting more and more perplexed by the very second, “I really hope not. Otherwise we have just starved the poor kid. And completely ignored his existence which would actually break my poor heart if we had to look at him and apologise.”

“Exactly.” Eddie pressed an oh-so-tender kiss to Buck’s lips, who wasn’t entirely ungrateful, but he was still so confused. And wow — how Buck’s confused face had completely stormed its way into Eddie’s mind. “We have ruled out two potential reasons for me not sleeping in the bed right now. Now I don’t mind about you, but I am absolutely exhausted so can we please just go to sleep?”

Buck conceded, pulling the comforter over the two men with a content smile. Eddie was warm, and safe, and wow, Evan Buckley loved him very much. “I’m ready.” Came Eddie’s whisper, thirty minutes after they believed the other had fallen asleep. “I know that sometimes it will still feel weird sleeping next to you, or you’ll get sick, or you’ll wake me up to ask silly 3am questions, or you’ll move too much in your sleep or Chris will get nightmares. But I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” Buck really could not stop himself from asking this one question. Because, if you ask Evan Buckley how he was feeling in this very moment, he’d probably answer with: very tired, and even more confused. But if you asked one Edmundo Diaz how he was feeling in this very moment, he’d probably answer with: scared, but excited at the prospect of stepping into something so entirely amazing and life changing. And oh — how he was more than ready.

“What I’m saying is Buck.” Eddie paused, looking at the man before him with more love in his eyes than he’s positive Buck has ever been shown before. “I want to be there. When you can’t sleep, or you’re fidgeting in your sleep, or when you’re sick. And, I want you to be there when I’m feeling weird about anything, or when Chris has nightmares. I want you to be in our lives forever.”

“Are you-” Buck had to stop himself, tears threatening to spill from tired blue eyes at any second. He knew Eddie would be ready for marriage one day, he just didn’t realise it was going to be today. “Are you proposing?”

“No, not yet.” Eddie’s smile was soft, and oh — how hard Buck found it to be disappointed when the love of his life was smiling at him so fondly, and so in love. “What I’m saying is, I’d really like it if you would move in. I mean, you have waited and been patient and never complained when I slept in other places. I know we’ve been fielding questions for ever, and I know I wasn’t ready, but things are different now. And really, it’s the way you’ve been ready but you still waited for me. So please, move in with me?”

“If I say yes, can we finally go to sleep?” Buck asked, trying and failing to hold in the biggest yawn Eddie thinks he’s ever seen. And so, Eddie nods, and Buck says yes. And Eddie knows nothing will feel better than knowing he’ll wake up to Buck’s face in the morning, and the morning after that, and all the mornings.

Until, of course, they make it a forever thing.

(And they do. Eleven months, two weeks, and one day later.)

[wicked-mind]

Take it Back

Summary: Bucky made a mistake asking you for some time apart and now he’s going to get you back.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Implied smut, swearing, drinking, hints of PTSD for our favorite man.

All Writings Masterlist

A/N: All likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated! I love that shit (: Please let me know what you think with a comment, your feedback helps my writing and motivates me more than you know.

*gifs not mine

“You’re an idiot.”

Bucky frowned over at Sam, his nose scrunching slightly at the same comment he’s heard every time he’s come over the past two weeks. He knew that already. He knew he was stupid as soon as the words came out of his mouth two weeks ago. It felt like the right thing to do at the time but he immediately regretted it after. All he was thinking of was you. Bucky wanted to give you the whole damn world. He wanted to reach up and pluck a star right out of the night sky just to show you how much you meant to him. Show you that you were brighter than all the stars that lit up the sky. You were everything. You were the sun that kissed his skin in the morning and the moon that shined light in his darkness. He swore that you were an angel that had somehow found your way to him, sent by whatever god above as if to say he deserved peace, "You're a terrible shrink."

“Don’t give me that look just because you screwed up.” Sam said, leaning back in his chair to take a sip of his beer before setting it on the table, “You’re miserable, man! You look like you haven’t brushed your hair since she left. I really think there’s something living in there.”

Bucky grumbles out something inaudible towards Sam and lifts a hand to try to pat his hair into a tamed look but knew it was useless. He stared at the beer bottle in his hands before looking over to Sam. He was the best friend Bucky had and, even if he got on his nerves, Sam was usually right and always seemed able to read what Bucky was feeling even with a stoic face. Sam often said he could tell Bucky’s mood just by the way his hair looked especially now that it was longer. He grew it out because of you. He loved the way you ran your fingers through his hair mindlessly to soothe him. Plus longer hair was easier for you to pull when he had you shaking from nipping between your thighs. He let out a soft sigh, “What do I do?”

Sam shrugs slightly, “Tell her you were wrong. All girls love guys who can admit when they’re wrong.” He suggests.

“She’s not just any girl.” Bucky quickly replies with a small glare. He hated when you were grouped in to seem like just another girl because you weren’t that. To put it simply, you were a gift. But Bucky didn’t do simple, not when it came to you. You were more than anything simple to him. You were perfection. Perfectly made for him in every sense of the word. You were divine to him, so pure and innocent which is part of the reason he tried to let you go. Bucky, to himself, was anything but innocent. To him, his name and any word that went along with innocent didn’t belong in the same sentence. He knew it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t have a choice for what Hydra had made him do for decades but that didn’t mean he still didn’t wake up from nightmares with the feeling there was blood on his hands. Not metaphorical blood, but actual blood. He would wake up and run to the bathroom, washing his hands roughly until his skin on his flesh hand was red and scratched by his own doing trying to wash away the blood only he could see. You would walk into the bathroom, slowly taking both his hands in yours and leaving small kisses on both his vibranium knuckles and raw flesh ones until his breathing would slow and he would come back to you. Bucky didn’t know how you looked at him like he was the angel. Like he was your saving grace- your happy place. How could someone like him be somebody’s else’s happy place? How could you look at him through him, past all the broken jagged pieces, to see him as he once saw himself. He never felt more like himself than when he was with you. Being with you was easy like it was meant to be, easier than breathing. But he felt guilty, undeserving of you. Why should he bring you down with him through sleepless nights? He thought he was being selfish to put you through those sleepless nights, to have you bring him back when he was lost in his trauma and that was why he told you that maybe the two of you needed a break. A month for you to decide if this was what you really wanted.

You had walked into his apartment after he called you over, already on your way of course. You two didn’t live together but both of your apartments had objects belonging to the other such as clothes, shampoos, perfumes, and toothbrushes. You walked in using your key to find Bucky sitting on the couch, his elbows rested on his thighs and his fingers intertwined with each other. You knew that look, that meant he had been thinking too much, lost in his own thoughts. You dropped your bag on the counter before walking over and sitting beside him, using one hand to tilt his face towards yours so you could look at him, “What’s going on, my love?” You ask softly towards him with a small smile.

Bucky scanned his eyes over your face. Even though he saw you everyday it was like he was looking at you for the first time every time he saw you. His heart would do cartwheels while his stomach did summersaults and his lungs would suddenly forget how to breathe. He let out the breath he was holding, wanting to do more than anything to cup your face in his palms and leave soft kisses on your skin but tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight was about him doing the selfless thing, at least in his mind, “Listen, doll. You’re the best thing in my life and I’ve had a long one.You’re just so…” He paused, not even knowing the right word to fit for how great you are, “And I’m… not.”

“Bucky you-“ You began but were cut off by him.

“No, baby, just listen, okay?” He says, moving his flesh hand up to brush some hair to tuck behind your ear, “I think it’d be best if we had some time apart. You deserve better than being woken up in the middle of the night most of the week. I have to do this for you, doll.” He stared into your eyes with pained blue ones, “I have to let you go so you can really decide if this is what you want for your life.”

You smile slightly at him even though you could feel your insides breaking. Bucky was strong in every sense of the word but even he had his moments where he would break and you knew that letting him see you in pain would take him to one of those moments, “I understand, Buck.” You say softly to him, reaching a hand up to touch his cheek gently, watching him turn into your touch as if it was the thing keeping him alive, “I already know what I want and he’s here right in front of me.” You told him but then took a deep breath, “But if you need some time and you think it’d be good for us, then I’ll respect that as much as I hate it. But just so you know, I’ll be waiting for you forever. I’m here for you.”

“I know she isn’t just another girl.” Sam said, holding up his hands to say he didn’t mean any offense, “You love her. Have you told her that?”

Bucky sighs and shook his head slightly, “No. Hadn’t gotten around to it.” He muttered out. There had been many times he wanted to tell you those three words but it scared him. He didn’t know how you would react. He didn’t know if you loved him. He thought you did just by the movements you made when you were with him and the way you would say everything but the L-word. You would tell him you adored him, that you were crazy about him and he swore he could see the love in your eyes anytime you said such things.

“She said she’d be waiting for you.” Sam said as he stood, taking his empty beer bottle to the recycling bin and dropping it in, “So stop sulking, take a shower, and tomorrow at the barbecue you are going to go right up to her and tell her you love her.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Bucky says with a slight groan. Tomorrow would be the first time he would see you in the last two weeks and he didn’t know how he would react when you two made eye contact because all he wanted was for you to be back with him, in his arms as you kept him safe from the dark and twisted things that lurked in his body.

“It is that simple, man!” Sam said with a small smile and a swing of his arms, “You two have been together for months and I, personally, have never seen you happier. Not to mention you make her happy even if you are a tin-man.” His smile grew a little with the glare Bucky gave him at the nickname, “So don’t screw it up. And bring some beer, you’ve drank all mine.”

The next day at the barbecue Bucky arrived late. He had taken a shower and shaved, making himself look presentable for you. He didn’t want you to see how much of a mess he was without you but he knew you’d see it just from the look in his eyes. You always knew what he needed. He wouldn’t of been so late if he hadn’t of spent a half hour pacing around his bedroom, thinking of what he was going to say to you or that he was so distracted when driving over that he forgot to pick up some beer which made him have to turn around to stop at the grocery store. Bucky pulled up to the barbecue, pulling out the two twelve packs of beer and walking over to place them on the small picnic table. He said hello to Sarah and Sam before asking him where you were, his eyes scanning the surroundings for you. Then he found you, and before Sam could even answer, he made his way over to were you were sitting on a wooden swing bench next to Sarah’s kids watching them play their video games in their handheld consoles. Bucky’s mind went blank when he saw you smile and laugh at the kids antics and before he knew it, he was taking long strides until he stood in front of you.

You look up from AJ’s game when you saw familiar black boots, immediately getting Bucky’s blue eyes that contained your own personal ocean. You smiled a little up at him, “Hi.” You say softly, happy that the kids were so entranced with their games that they didn’t notice what was going on in front of them.

Bucky just stared at you for a moment, relishing in the familiar sound of your voice. He had missed it so much, even more than he realized when you spoke to him. He couldn’t stop staring at you, taking in everything about you as if it was the first time he saw you. Bucky let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding before moving quickly, pulling you up by your hand and lifting you up over his shoulder and moving to head inside the house for some privacy.

“Bucky!” You squealed as he threw you over his shoulder, fists gripping onto the back of his leather jacket as he carried you into the house, “What are you doing?!”

“I take it back.” He muttered, keeping his pace as he walked through the front room, trying to get to the back of the house where the kids wouldn’t be able to hear or interrupt.

“What? Bucky put me down!” You demand, “Now!”

Bucky rolls his eyes and sets you down in front of him but holds onto your wrists, “I take it back, okay? I miss you. I can’t think without you. All I do is lay awake at night looking for you next to me but you aren’t there. The shower still smells like your fruity shampoo. I don’t know how to get the home computer lady to stop telling me knock knock jokes so I ripped it out of the wall. I don’t know how to add songs to my playlist. I don’t know how to change playlists so I’ve been listening to your eighties rock on repeat for two weeks.”

You stared up at him, your eyes wide at his words before you tilt your head at him, “You take it back because you can’t make the Alexa stop and you don’t know how to work Spotify?” You ask softly, your mind racing a million miles an hour. You hadn’t really expected for Bucky to throw you over his shoulder and spill everything to you. You thought he would pull you aside from the party and talk but this was a whole other level but you didn’t mind. Here was the man you loved with every atom of your being, taking back what he had said.

Bucky sighs and shook his head at your words, “No, babydoll.” He said, releasing your wrists to cup your face in his palms, staring down into your eyes, “I take it back because I love you. You’re everything to me and I’m an idiot for trying to push you away. I want you with me everyday for the rest of our lives. I want to roll over in bed to see you sleeping next to me like the angel you are. I need you.”

Your lips parted as your jaw dropped slightly at the three little words. Although they were simple it made your cheeks flush with warmth and made your body relax into his touch. You had wanted to hear those words so long, wanted to tell them to him. But Bucky was fragile, you knew that, and you were worried if you said them first he would curl into himself and away from you. You lifted one hand to touch his vibranium one while your other went up to gently lay on his shoulder, “I love you too.”

Bucky moved one hand to your waist, pulling you flush against his body and after staring at you for a moment more, he pressed a bruising kiss to your lips, trying to put all the love he felt for you into it. It felt like ages since he touched you, since he kissed you, and he couldn’t find himself getting enough of you. He groaned softly into your mouth when you parted your lips, your tongue dancing across his bottom lip slowly. It all ended too soon though when a voice separated the kiss.

“Gross.” AJ said, standing next to Cass.

Bucky turned his attention the boys with a small chuckle, “You two always manage to find the worst time for an entrance.”

“Well she said she would play the winner next. I won.” Cass said, holding up his Nintendo.

You smile and look at Bucky, placing a quick kiss to his cheek before looking over to Cass, “I didn’t say that.” You say, walking over to him and taking the controller from AJ, “I said I would kick your ass at Mario Kart because I’ve been playing it since before you two were born.”

“We aren’t allowed to say bad words.” AJ muttered out.

“Oh believe me, the beating that’s about to get handed to him in Mario Kart can only be described one way. An ass kicking.” You chuckle out before following the boys back to sit on the wooden bench.

Bucky smiled and followed behind you, leaning against the exterior of the house as he watched you play the video game with the boys. He could see his whole life with you. One day asking you to marry him, getting rid of the apartments both of you had and buying a house similar as close to Sam’s as possible. He would help you paint and decorate, doing anything you wanted. And one day, he would stand like he is now, watching you play with your own kids that would call him their dad. He would help you tuck them into bed, reading a story before carrying you up to the bedroom and reminding you all the ways he loves everything about you.

____________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops @stcrryslibrary @bibliophilewednesday @redhairedfeistynerd @princessnnylzays @buckys2thicc

[lunaserenade]

Stay

Masterlist

Author's Note: My first time writing for Bucky Barnes and hopefully not the last. Dedicated to @keeper0fthestars for encouraging my nonsense and @reddead-trash for always reading through whatever I write.

Paring: James 'Bucky' Barnes x Reader

Words:  ~ 1.2k

Warnings: Mentions of blood, surgery, and some adult situations.

Summary: A chance meeting with Bucky at a coffee shop after your shift in the ER leads to a late night request

***

“I hate to do this to you but... I need your help.” Bucky’s voice sounded strained through the phone, immediately catching your attention. You blinked in the darkness of your bedroom, your alarm clock reading 1:27 am.

“I’m here. What do you need?” Shocked at your own lack of hesitation at whatever was coming your way. 

You had met Bucky by pure accident about a month and a half ago at your favorite coffee shop in Brooklyn. Just coming off a 14 hour overnight shift in the Mount Sinai emergency room you were completely drained and oblivious to the world around you. Waiting for your coffee to come out you had noticed the handsome and dark haired man keeping to himself off to the side. You had reached for the cup of coffee that appeared on the counter and as you went to leave you heard him call to you.

“I’m sorry miss, I think this one is yours.” Turning you saw him holding out another cup that, sure enough, had your name scrawled across the side. Your cheeks had flushed immediately and you noticed the name on the cup you held. 

“James? I’m so sorry. I’m exhausted.” You gestured to the dark purple scrubs you wore. 

“It's no problem,” he reached out to trade cups with you, his gloves fingers lightly brushing yours. “Do you work at the hospital?”

You smiled and nodded. “I’m an RN in the emergency room. I’m the girl to call when you need to be patched up.” Smiling at him you brought your cup to lips and took a long sip. That coffee shop quickly became a favorite of Bucky's and a morning routine of his, secretly hoping to run into you every time he visited. Little did you know that first morning that Bucky offered to walk you home he would actually take you up on your offer. 

-----------

You were tugging your medical supplies bag out of the hall closet when you heard the sharp raps on your apartment door, a worse for wear Bucky standing there clutching his right shoulder.

“... Do I want to know?” You said apprehensively as you ushered him in, directing him towards your modest kitchen.

“Probably not.” He replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Let me take a look.” You said, washing your hands, pulling on a pair of gloves, and peaking under his jacket trying to get a better idea of what you were working with. “You need a couple of stitches, we should get you to the hospital.”

“I can't, it's complicated... Any chance you could 'patch me up'?” Bucky said, smirking down at you. You knew how to suture well enough and had the supplies in your bag, but it wasn't something you normally did.

“I can't guarantee it'll be pretty.” You cautioned.

“I’ll be fine. I'm a quick healer.“ Bucky grumbled, struggling to shrug off his jacket. You reached out and slid it off of him, fingers brushing the bare skin of his arm. 

“James, you’ve been stabbed. I don’t usually put that under ‘fine’” You shook your head, gestured for Bucky to sit on your kitchen table and reached for supplies. Feeling bold you took the hem of his shirt in your hands, looking up briefly for permission, and proceeded to help tug it over his head. You became very aware of just how close the two of you were, standing between his thighs you thought you saw a flash of lust cross Bucky’s features. Heart beating wildly in your chest you gingerly cleaned the wound, it wasn't too bad but would need several stitches. 

“I don't have anything to numb the area.” You said softly, looking up at Bucky through your lashes, digging through your bag for the silk thread and needle that was tucked away. “Let me know if I'm hurting you.”

Bucky nodded and reached out absentmindedly, brushing the hair that had fallen into your eyes behind your ear. Your breath caught at the contact as you struggled to focus on threading the needle. You'd been harboring a crush on him since the day you bumped into him at the coffee shop and now you had him half naked and bleeding on your kitchen table as you began to stitch up his shoulder. Bucky let out a small grimace of pain as the needle pierced his skin and his metal arm reached out to grasp your waist, the cool vibranium of his fingers giving you goosebumps. It took every inch of your will power to concentrate on your sutures, which weren't nearly as sloppy as you thought they'd be, and not let your hands wander the body of the man before you.

Bucky watched you attentively as you concentrated on stitching him back together, his heart hammering in his chest as your hands brushed across his chest. He'd been dragging his feet on asking you out and found himself increasingly looking forward to seeing you at the coffee shop, slowly opening up to you during your chats. You finished your last suture, cleaned the last bits of blood off his shoulder, and reluctantly stepped back from your position between his legs. 

“Thank you for doing this, I'm sorry that I woke you up.” He greedily took in the shorts and tank top you wore as he slid off his position on your kitchen table.

“I told you if you needed patching up to call me, didn't I?” You smiled warmly up at him. Feeling bold Bucky stepped close to you and cupped your face in his hand, a thrill running through him as you leaned into his touch. 

“What if I just want to call you?” Bucky leaned in closer until his lips were just a breath away from yours, he hesitated as your eyes flicked up to meet his. And just like that his self-restraint crumbled as he crushed his lips to yours, hungrily and urgently, his arms dropping to your waist to pull you closer. Your every sense was consumed by him as your hands roamed his body, and when he finally pulled away you were dizzy and drunk on his scent.

“You can call whenever you like, especially if you're going to kiss me like that.” You said breathlessly, hands trailing up and down his arms as he held you close.

“... It's getting late. I should probably go, let you get some sleep.” Bucky said, a content smile on his lips.

“Stay.” You offered as you gazed into his blue eyes, a stark contrast to his dark features.

“What?” He replied, surprised.

“You could stay... here, with me tonight.” You insisted. “If you wanted to.” Bucky kissed you again, slow and indulgently.

“I'd like that.” He murmured softly, resting his forehead against yours.

That was the first night in a long time that Bucky slept truly restfully, his slumber finally uninterrupted by nightmares.

tagged: @diva-1992, @yespolkadotkitty, @sarahjkl82-blog, @seasonschange-butpeopledont, @mrsparknuts, @disgruntledspacedad, @mrschiltoncat, @giselatropicana, @sugarontherims, @cynic-spirit, @supernaturalgirl, @farfromjustordinary, @buckstaposition, @jawabear​

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my tags! 💕

[iamdeku]

Positions: Prohero!Deku x Reader

I’ve been working on this little drabble for a while, haha. I just wanted to write something really cute and domestic. I hope you guys like this!

Warnings: nudity (non-sexual), mentions of kids/pregnancy

Dating a pro-hero could be taxing, to say the least. That was what everyone had told you when you and Izuku had first gotten together. They had warned you of the unpredictable hours, the nightmares, the trauma. They had said he would be physically unavailable at best, emotionally unavailable at worst. You had ignored all of that, though, and every day you were glad you did.

Dating Izuku had never been anything but a joy, a privilege even. He was one of the kindest souls you had ever met. His work only seemed to strengthen that side of him, accenting his willingness to help others, always with a smile on his face. He never made you feel second best to anything or anyone. In fact, you often felt like he did more for you than you did for him, which was what brought you here.

You’re pulling out all the stops tonight, spinning around your kitchen in your pretty pink over the knee socks that always made you glide across the floor, one of Izuku’s baby blue hoodies tossed over your head and falling far enough to be a dress, negating any need for pants. You had chicken katsu going on the stove, and you were making some tea to go with it. In the other room, you had made the bed with freshly washed sheets, still a little warm from the dryer, and an array of bath salts and bubble baths set up for selection.

Your entire body tenses when you hear the jangle of the keys in the lock, rising up onto your tiptoes in your excitement. You slip at least twice as you dash for the door and the man on his way through it, and you should have bit the dust once except for the arms wrapping around you now.

“Baby, you’re slipping all over the place. You know you can’t run in these.” His laughter hits your ear warm and sweet, body close from the way he’s holding you up. “What’s got you in such a hurry? We have all night.”

You pull back to look at him, smile spreading across your face. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You hold his face between your hands, used to how fragile they looked compared to his broad strength. You brush your thumb across his cheekbone, where a bruise is painted, red at the center but blossoming out to a deep purple, nearly black. You lean forward and press a gentle kiss to it.

“You work too hard.” You sigh, letting your eyes close and lashes flutter over his stained skin. “Do you want dinner or a bath first?”

“Whatever you want.” The answer is immediate, instinctive.

You had seen this coming. You had prepared for it, in fact.

“Nope. Tonight is about you. That’s what I want, and I’m not letting you argue with me. C’mon, we should get you changed out of your costume.”

He lets you drag him back to the bedroom, hands laced together with his. Slowly, you peel him out of his hero costume, the movements routine and your hands gentle as you unveil new bruises. Most of the blood and gunk on him seems to be from other people, hopefully the villains, but you don’t ask. He’ll tell you if he wants to, and he does when he sees the way you pause on a patch of his uniform stuck to his skin from dried blood.

“It was a good night,” he reassures you. “We got them, and everybody is okay.”

“Good.” You nod. “You hungry?”

He smiles down at you. You’ve gently pushed him back onto the bed now that you’ve gotten the top half of his suit off, your navy blue sheets contrasting the green of his hair as he lays back to stretch while you finish undressing him.

“Yeah. It smells good. Chicken katsu?” He leans forward, resting his cheek in his palm.

“Yeah.” You pull his boots off his feet, then shuck of the rest of the costume.

You stand up, knees flushed from the coldness of the hardwood floor, already reaching for his favorite pair of sweats and an old, soft All Might shirt. You let him dress himself as you take his costume to the laundry room, although the damage done to it is likely beyond you. Straight to support team, then.

When you turn to leave the room, his body is stretched across the doorframe, filling it up. You take a moment to let yourself be breathless at the sight of him. It’s not that you forget how beautiful he is, but more that nothing could possibly prepare you for the sight of him, especially not just casually out of nowhere like this. 

“Dinner?” He asks.

“Thought you might want that before a bath.” 

That was a lie. You knew he would want dinner before a bath when you heard his stomach growl about 5 minutes after he walked in the door. Not that he would admit to that, silly boy.

You move to walk past him into the kitchen, but he catches you around the waist, nose skimming across the skin of your neck as he leans forward. He looks you up and down, bright green eyes soaking you up.

“You look so pretty,” he mumbles.

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, leaning into his touch. He brushes his lips against your jaw, just beneath your ear.

“My pretty girl.” He pulls you flush against him, pushing a strand of your hair back. “Gonna drive me crazy.”

“I know what you’re doing,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Oh? What am I doing?”

He plays innocent, but you see the look in his eyes.

“You’re trying to distract me from taking care of you. Not going to happen, pretty boy.”

You slip out of his embrace, throwing a teasing glance his way over your shoulder as you head towards the kitchen, swaying your hips perhaps a little more than was strictly necessary.

“Maybe I just think you look really good in my clothes,” he suggests, following you. “Hard to resist.”

You hum mindlessly, a grin playing on your lips as you reach up into the cabinets to pull out an All Might themed bowl for him and a more traditional choice for yourself. You put rice in both of the bowls, doubling the portions for him, and serve the chicken.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Izuku grows more serious from where he sits at your kitchen table, his chair scuffed and comfortable with age, face lit up and golden in the warmth of your kitchen.

“Well, somebody has to feed my big strong hero, and it better not be any other girl,” you respond lightheartedly.

“Wouldn’t want any other girl. Not when I have the best one in the world right here.”

You can’t help but blush as you start in on the food. Deku eats like a starving man, and he has for as long as you’ve known him, except when he’s upset. It gives you almost no time to admire him as you try to keep up, but you still try to get as much of him as you can, always afraid that he’s too good to be true. Worried of the moment he’ll disappear on you.

“I can feel you watching.” He says when he’s finished.

You just roll your eyes, still eating despite your best efforts. He’s called you out on it a million times before. You stopped being embarrassed a long time ago.

You two sit in silence until you finish, but it’s comfortable, the sort of silence that settles down when one of you is tired and the other is pleasantly content, or when maybe you’re both a little bit of each. He speaks up when you take the dishes to place them in the sink.

“You know, you would make a good Mom.” His eyes are glazed over in thought, obviously somewhere else.

“You think so?” You asked quietly, frozen at the kitchen sink.

“Yeah. We would have pretty babies too,” he muses.

“Yeah?” You turn around, leaning your back against the sink.

“Uh huh. Can see it now.” A distant smile pulls the corners of his mouth up. “Our little babies calling you Mommy.”

You cross the kitchen table, settling down into his lap. Your arms loop effortlessly over his broad shoulders, so used to the motion.

“Tell me about it,” you say.

“Wanna buy you a house,” he says, burying his face in the crook of your neck in the way he always does when he’s tired down to his bones. “And a ring. A ring as pretty as you are. I want to have so many babies with you. Have all these kids running around the house, and I want them to all look just as pretty as their Mommy.”

“That sounds perfect.” You run your fingers through his soft curls, body intertwined so closely with his you feel his lashes against your shoulder when he blinks sharply.

“Did you say something about a bath earlier, or did I imagine that?” He asks, voice confused with his exhaustion.

You giggle. “I did actually mention a bath.”

“That sounds nice.” 

He stands, picking you up even now, as tired as he is.

“Izuku!” You squeal. “Put me down!”

“Nope, sorry princess. We���re gonna go take a bath.”

He’s all business as he carries you to the bathroom, plopping you down on the edge of the tub. You beat him to the faucet though, determined to keep your hold on the night and keep taking care of him.

“What bath salts do you want?”

He sits down on the floor beside you, back leaning against the tub and cheek pressed to your thigh as he sighs deeply, eyes fluttering shut.

“Whatever you use. Wanna smell like you. You smell good.”

You follow his instructions, setting the bath up with all of your favorites as he peppers the outside of your thigh with kisses. Your hands never shake, the movements practiced from all the years you’ve spent making baths for yourself and later, yourself and Izuku. When you’re finished, you both slide into the bathtub.

You take your time, washing his hair gently. You’re just as careful with the washcloth, paying attention to every part of his body, making sure not to miss a speck of blood or a smudge of dirt. You’re dedicated to your work and unconcerned with your own cleanliness, though you do briefly wash up so you don’t get the sheets dirty.

You wrap him and yourself up in towels when you get out, the darkened water swirling down your drain.

“Somebody was messy today.”

“Sorry.” Izuku blushes, knowing you’ll have to clean the tub later.

“Don’t be. I’m proud of you. You work so hard to keep people safe.”

He smiles at you, and you can see in his eyes he’s woozy from tiredness. You pull him forward into you, holding him in your arms even as you drag him back into bed with you. He manages to crawl into his sweats before crawling under the covers, and you don’t bother to do anything but pop his sweater back on.

He rolls into you, already half asleep but still wrapping you up in his arms. “I meant all of that earlier, you know?”

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“I really do want to have a family with you. A home.” He presses a tired kiss to your temple.

“I know. I want that too, ‘Zuku,” you mumble, his tiredness contagious.

“I love you.” He wraps you up tighter if that’s at all possible. “To the moon. And to Saturn. And Pluto.”

You giggle a little, eyelids falling closed. “Love you too. To the moon and to Saturn and to Pluto.”

[bubblegumbeech]

Stumbling in your Sleep

Phic Phight prompt fill for @the-only-wife

It was the ticking sound that woke him.

Danny yawned, blinking sleep out of his eyes and stretching out his sore muscles. Looking around only served to confuse him though. He wasn’t in his room anymore, and he wasn’t downstairs either (which sometimes happened with his body’s penchant to fall through not only his bed, but the floor). He was in a large, heavily shadowed room that was on the edge of familiar, and it was taking him a moment to place it in his sleep fogged mind.

“It’s not healthy to fixate on what could have been,” came a deep, familiar voice from behind him.

Startled, Danny spun around to see Clockwork floating a few feet away. He was in his eldest form, long knitted beard and all, and was gazing past Danny towards something further in the room.

Following that gaze, Danny saw what exactly Clockwork had been talking about and flinched, flying quickly away from it and over towards the Ancient.  

It was a Thermos, horridly familiar and just- sitting there on a pillow as if for display.

“How did I get here?” Danny asked, putting Clockwork between himself and that thing .

Clockwork hummed, stroking his beard a moment before slowly answering, “I suppose, the likely answer is that you were having a nightmare.” He lowered a hand to Danny’s shoulder and led him out of the room and back into a more familiar part of the clock tower. “Let’s get you some tea before I send you home, it might calm your nerves.”

Danny followed, eager for distance, before asking, “the likely answer? Does that mean you don’t know?”

“Despite what you and certain others seem to think, I am neither omniscient nor a mind reader, I cannot see into your dreams,” Clockwork said and Danny chuckled softly. “Besides, Nocturn would likely be unappreciative if I was interfering in his domain.”

“You know Nocturn?” Danny asked stopping and tugging lightly on Clockwork’s cloak so that he’d stop as well.

He did, lifting one of his eyebrows and answering with a dry tone, “of course I do, I know everyone.”

Because of course he did. It wasn’t like he didn’t just tell Danny that he wasn’t omniscient, that was clearly a different skill set to someone as determined to be mysterious as Clockwork. Danny found himself wondering if the intrigue surrounding the older ghost was not mostly of his own creation, an attempt at seeming aloof and beyond comprehension while simultaneously laughing behind everyone else’s backs.

A wash of amusement filtered through the ambient ectoplasm of Clockwork’s lair and Danny scowled up at him, “I thought you weren’t a mind reader?”

Clockwork tried to hide his smile, unsuccessfully, and nodded, “I do not need to be, to hear the accusations you make towards me,” he guided Danny to the main room of the tower where the screens were kept along with the relatively recent addition of a couch and coffee table. There was warm tea, purple and slightly glowing, already waiting for them.

“So I’m right then? You are just messing with us all the time?” Danny grabbed his own cup, dubious, Clockwork wouldn’t poison him right? He would know whether a half ghost could drink something if anyone did.

If Danny was expecting an answer, he’d be dissapointed, but when a ghost spent enough time with the mysterious Ancient it became increasingly clear that straight answers were not something they would get  in large supply. So instead he rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea, Clockwork could be as obnoxious as he wanted after saving Danny’s family like he did.

The least Danny could do in return, was accept his eccentricities.

“Do you remember your dream?” Clockwork asked and Danny shook his head. There were bits and pieces, sure. Certain emotions and feelings that flashed to the surface when he closed his eyes or tried to think about it. He’d never been good at trying to recall something once he was awake, and despite Jazz once offering to buy him a dream journal to ‘help him decode his inner turmoils’ he’d never felt the need to try and change that.

He sighed into his tea, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I know you’re busy.” There was no way he was going to get a decent amount of sleep now, especially since he’d have to fly all the way home first and he didn’t even know how late it already was.

Clockwork’s lips twitched slightly upwards, “Daniel you’ve never once cared before how busy I am when you’ve come to visit,” Danny flinched, well he wasn’t wrong , “and besides, I quite enjoy your company. It’s no trouble at all.”

“Ah,” Danny didn’t know how to react to that, he was pretty sure he was nothing but trouble, especially with a certain future of his locked up in that other part of the clock tower they’d been in, “thanks?”

His host sighed, taking the time to sip his own eerily glowing tea. The silence stretched, but not uncomfortably and Danny found himself starting to drift towards sleep again, the struggle to try and keep his eyes pried open quickly becoming a losing one.

That was probably his cue to leave, as nice as it was to just sit here and not worry about things like classes and ghost attacks, he was probably already pushing it close to the first bell at school. He stood up and Clockwork’s eyes followed, “I have to head out, thanks for the tea Clockwork. I’ll try to be more considerate the next time I drop by.”

There was a small pinch between Clockwork’s brows, something he wasn’t saying or that Danny wasn’t hearing. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he assured and Danny let out a chuckle. He’d probably respond with something equally sarcastic, if not quite as dry, if he wasn’t so tired.

Clockwork seemed to be of the same mind, “Daniel, when was the last time you slept through the night?” He asked it as a question, as if he didn’t already know. Then again, maybe Danny was giving himself too much credit, it was entirely possible Clockwork didn’t waste his incredible power watching to see if Danny bothered to sleep at night.

“Yesterday,” Danny lied, a yawn built behind his jaw as if to discredit him but Danny held it back stubbornly. It didn’t seem to work though, as Clockwork’s lips tightened. He looked over at his screens, eyes flicking quickly over each one while his fingers tapped a steady rhythm against his staff. That, combined with the gentle ticking of clocks and general comforting atmosphere of the other ghost’s lair was making it more and more difficult for Danny to keep his eyes open.

He flinched awake fully as a hand shook his shoulder, shit, did he fall asleep standing up?  

“Daniel,” Clockwork’s hand was still on his shoulder, practically holding him up at this point, “you can always sleep here.”

Danny shook his head, “I don’t have time-”

“Daniel,” Clockwork interrupted, his expression flat.

Oh right.

“I don’t want to…” he tried, “It’s just, you already help me all the time, you’ve fixed so many of my stupid mistakes and-” and Danny was tired of being a burden. He was tired in general, but ancients was he tired of that specifically.

He was tired of seeing his friends lose sleep to help him as back up, he was tired of constantly having to go behind his parents backs and lie to their faces he was tired of watching as Jazz’s once perfect grades started slipping just enough because of all the time she spent helping Danny with his and he was especially tired of knowing that he wasn’t worth the effort in the first place.

Not if he could turn into that .

But Clockwork didn’t let go of his shoulder, in fact, he pulled him closer into a hug, a real, full hug like the ones he used to get from his parents before they started wearing their weapons and he was scared to get near them. “I’d rather you slept here than wandered around the realms half asleep. Who knows where you’d end up,” he said, speaking gently into Danny’s hair.

“You would,” Danny said before losing the battle against another yawn and relaxing fully into Clockwork’s arms. “You know everything. Can I really sleep here?”

“Of course,” Clockwork released him, leaving one hand on Danny’s back to guide him to a staircase he hadn’t ever noticed before. Just how big was this clock tower anyways?

The room Clockwork took him to was a little bigger than the one he had at home and nothing like what Danny had expected. Most of the tower was colored with dark purples and muted greens, with the occasional brush of silver or brass from the multitude of gears and cogs that littered the floors and walls. This room however, was full of dark blues and greys, a swirling galaxy floating above a single full sized bed that Danny easily sunk into when Clockwork led him to it.

He blinked up at the stars, they were perfectly accurate to the night sky above Amity Park if it didn’t have the light pollution and had to stop himself from counting every constellation rendered there in perfect detail or he’d fall asleep just like that without even bothering to thank Clockwork for offering to stop time for him.

“You made me a room.” It should have been obvious, of course, but Danny hadn’t fully processed what the room and it’s decorations meant until he’d said it out loud and Clockwork didn’t even try to deny it.

Clockwork fazed the blankets through Danny in order to pull them over him properly, tucking him in. Danny was almost tempted to ask for a bedtime story, just to see how he’d react. “Yes, I made you a room.”

Danny frowned, he didn’t understand, “why?”

“I suppose it’s a bit of an excuse to have you visit more often,” Clockwork said, ruffling his hair before sitting at the foot of the bed, “and an offer for you to get some proper sleep before you sleepwalk into someone else’s lair and I have to fight for custody.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny mumbled into the pillow, his eyes drifting shut.

The last thing he heard before he drifted off was a soft chuckle and a gentle reassurance that he needn’t worry about anything like that just yet. Maybe, if someone like Clockwork could see the absolute worst of Danny, the monster he could become, and still care enough to make him a room and be sure he slept, then maybe Danny couldn’t be as terrible a burden as he thought. Surely Clockwork, who could see all the futures stretched out below him like a parade, wouldn’t waste his efforts if he didn’t think Danny was worth the time.

He dreamed of stars and ticking clocks and didn’t worry for once about how soon he’d have to wake up.

[mysweetestcreature]

Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies

Words: 24.5k

Warnings: Mentions of death...smut?

Summary: Why can’t two people who are meant for each other get it right?

***

They’re fighting again. All Y/n can do is shut her eyes in the hopes that when she opens them, everything will be okay. But no amount of wishing can drown out the noise. 

“I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine! It’s not. You know it isn’t, Matt,” she hears her mother erupt between sobs. Lately, it’s been the same angry words shouted at one another over and over again. Y/n takes her baby sister, Ava, in her eight-year-old arms. She hugs the baby close. If she can’t block the screaming out, at least she can protect her sister from it.

“Grace, please.” It’s her dad’s voice. She’s never heard him sound so desperate. “What about our family? The girls need you. I need you! You can’t just walk away from us.” 

There’s a sudden silence that follows. At first, Y/n thinks that maybe her parents have reached a resolution. Her dad has always been good at negotiating. It is his job, after all. She’s seen him in action whenever he brings her to work with him. Maybe he’s managed to work that same magic on her mum. She gently lays Ava down on the bed, creating a makeshift barrier of pillows on either side of her, before exiting the room and running down the stairs. 

Before she can reach the bottom, she’s forced to a halt when she sees her daddy slouched over on the last step. His head is buried in his hands, his shoulders are shaking. He’s crying. That’s a sight she’s never seen before. He’d always been the picture of bravery and strength, but now that’s been washed away and replaced with someone who looks broken beyond repair. She doesn’t recognize him.

Where is her mum? She slips past her dad, despite wanting to throw herself in his arms for comfort. Besides his sniffling, the house is quiet. There’s no trace of her mum. It scares her.

“Where’s Mummy?” she asks meekly, turning to her father.

He doesn’t respond, but instead, he brings his hands out of his hair, and stares painfully at the door. Without thinking, she throws it open, the sun’s light momentarily blinding her for a few unhinged seconds. It’s only the screeching of wheels on road that brings her back.

“Mummy!” she cries, running as fast as her short legs can take her. Her eyes begin to swell with tears. The black taxi is still, and she’s just able to stare at her mum through its window. “Mummy, where are you going?” she pleads as she bangs on the door, but her mother doesn’t even flinch. Why won’t she look at me? 

The engine starts up, and the car begins to drive away. Y/n chases after it, crying out for her mum to come back. “Don’t go! Please don’t leave me!” It picks up speed after it turns the corner. She feels herself slowing down, but even then, she refuses to stop. The distance between herself and the car becomes too massive.  

“Mummy, come back!” 

Arms envelop around her, and now she’s running on air. “Let her go,” her dad tells her, and she can feel his own tears against her neck. Her feet stop kicking, it’s like the energy has completely drained from her body. Her mind, however, is still racing. 

***

A few days later, her daddy packs both hers and Ava’s bags, and loads them all into his car. She doesn’t ask questions, and instead busies herself with the fleeting landscape. A part of her had expected all that’s happened to be a part of some elaborate nightmare. But each morning, she wakes up to her parents’ bed left untouched, and her dad asleep on the living room couch. Ava is asleep beside her, and Y/n can’t help but think how lucky her little sister is to be living in ignorance. At three months old, she’s only just learned to hold her head up. Barely. Y/n doesn’t remember anything from that age, and maybe that’s a good thing. Had her parents always been this hostile towards one another? Had her mother done this before? What if she had? Does that mean she’ll eventually come back?

“We’re going to be staying with your grandparents for a while,” she’s taken out of her thoughts when her dad finally speaks up.

“Why?” She catches his eyes in the rearview mirror. They only ever go up to Nan and Gramps’ house during the holidays.

His fingers thump against the steering wheel, and he breathes in deeply as though to say something. It takes a moment before he answers her. “I just...I can’t do this alone.” His voice breaks, even though he tries to pass it off with a cough. “It’ll be good for us,” he says again. “You’ll see.”

When they hit a red light, he turns to look at her. He smiles weakly. No matter how much she wants to believe him, she still yearns for her mummy. It’s become especially hard in the mornings when her hair is knotted from tossing and turning in her sleep, and her dad can’t manage to tame it for the life of him. Her mum would often braid her hair, and like magic, it would remain intact all day. She always loved how gentle and soothing her mum would be as she brushed each strand with such care. That’s not to say that her dad isn’t trying, of course, but it’s just not the same.

***

Her grandparents live in a little town called Holmes Chapel. It’s pretty, she supposes. The buildings are a lot older, and the streets aren’t as busy as they are back home. She sits back and takes a deep breath. Her tummy flips a little when she thinks about how she might never see her old friends again, or her room, or even Mrs. Watson who lives next door (she would babysit Y/n and Ava whenever her mum had to run some errands). 

When she looks out the window again, she sees Nan and Gramps stood on their front porch, smiles reaching their eyes. 

“Where are my babies!” Nan exclaims, her arms stretched out. Her dad says a quick hello before opening up the back door. Y/n hops out, and her legs feel a bit unsteady from having been cramped in the car for all those hours. 

“Hi, Nana,” she greets sadly. Nan’s smile falters slightly, but she doesn’t seem to let it deter her.

The elderly woman bends down to her height and gathers her in her arms. Over Nan’s shoulder, Y/n watches as her dad whispers something in Gramps’ ear. Although she can’t hear it, she can tell by Gramps’ reaction that it can’t have been good. “A bit peaky?” Nan asks, when she finally pulls away. She cups Y/n’s cheeks and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I just took the cookies out of the oven, actually. Let’s go check on them before your grandfather gobbles them up.” 

Gramps groans behind them. “It was one time!” 

Nan waves him off, guiding her through the front door with an encouraging push. “Oh, you won’t believe all the colors I bought for you at the crafts store yesterday! I know how much you love to draw,” she says. Her voice drowns out when she hears something fall outside. “Arthur Y/l/n! If you break another one of my pots, I swear to–” It leaves Y/n to wander through the hall on her own. Her grandparents’ house is quaint and orderly and smells vaguely of warm vanilla (probably from the cookies) and jasmine. The walls are covered in framed photographs of her daddy and his older brother through the years, a few of a much younger Nan and Gramps, and finally of Y/n, Ava and all of her cousins. (They live in Nice––her Uncle Brandon married a French woman named Dominique––and only ever seem to come around for Nan and Gramps’ anniversary.) Finally, below her uncle and aunt’s wedding photo, is her parents’. She tries not to stare at it too long.

***

Y/n decides that maybe spending time with her grandparents won’t be so bad. After all, her and Ava don’t have to share a room anymore, which means that she won’t be woken up by her little sister’s 3 am wailing fits. Nan’s done an impressive job decorating on such short notice, too. The walls are still plain white, but at least there are some pretty stickers of butterflies and flowers and a few of Y/n’s favorite cartoon characters. Even the windows are nicely covered with those gel ornaments that she loves to poke. 

It’s all very nice, but she still wonders about when she’ll be able to sleep in her own bed, in her own house, under her own sheets.

“When are we going home?” she asks her dad as he tucks her in for the night. His hands stop in the middle of smoothening out her blanket, his eyes remaining glued to one of its printed ballerinas. 

“To be honest with you, love,” he sighs, “I don’t know if we’ll ever go back...at least not anytime soon.” 

“Oh.” That’s not the answer she wanted to hear. What if her mum does decide to come back? It’s still possible, right? After all, her mummy had always told her how much she loved her. She would scoop Y/n into her arms and twirl her around the room as they both laughed their hearts out. When she was sick, she’d always have her favorite tomato soup and grilled cheese. Every day after school, she’d sit down with her and help her do her homework and then give her an extra cookie if she didn’t complain. 

Then another thought pops into her head. Her mum hadn’t been able to do any of that stuff recently. It had been like living with someone who looked exactly like her mum, but without all the warmth and tenderness that once was. Y/n turns away from her dad and starts to sob silently into her pillow. 

Maybe she isn’t coming back, after all.

The dip in the bed from where her daddy had been finally reinflates. He’s about to wrap his hand around the door before she stops him. She calls out his name, sitting up with her arms around her knees. 

“We’ll be happier here?” 

His shoulders visibly relax, and for the first time in what feels like so long, he offers a sincere smile and nods affirmatively. She hadn’t realized how much she missed his smile until now. There’s something about it that she can’t quite describe, but she feels the safest she’s felt in a while.

***

Her daddy had left for the airport some hours ago. Gramps had offered to bring her along for the ride the night before, but she decided that she would rather not watch him leave. Instead, she pretended to be asleep when he came into her room and kissed her on the forehead. She knows he’ll be back in a few days, but it’s always tough when he has to go. It’s one of the other reasons they needed to move in with her grandparents, her dad has to travel a lot for work.  

As soon as he and Gramps had loaded the car and driven away, she had stepped outside and sat down on the grass. That had been before the sun had totally risen. Now, it’s up high and shining its rays on top of her head. Nan, who had been surprised to see her granddaughter sitting out on the lawn so early in the morning, had asked her if she wanted breakfast, but was told she wasn’t hungry. 

They’ve only been living here for a little over a week. She thought that they would’ve had more time to adjust before her dad had to fly off to wherever it is they’ve sent him. So far, things have been fine...or at least they’ve been as best as they can be. She tries not to think about her mum too much (she’s down to only once or twice a day). It’s a good thing that Nan and Gramps have a million ways to keep her busy.

Today is different, however. She’d had her daddy with her when she felt homesick. Now, she feels alone. 

“Hi,” her head snaps up, and there’s a boy, maybe around her age, standing above her. He has messy brown hair that curls at the ends, his pleasant smile is complete with dimples on either cheek. It’s his eyes, however, that hold her attention. They’re like spearmint, if spearmint is even considered a color. Or maybe they’re the same shade as the stems of her Nan’s petunias. She can’t quite describe it, but she can tell that she likes them. 

“Hi.” 

The boy takes her response as an invitation to sit down beside her. “I’m Harry. Do you want a Freddo?” He pulls out a chocolate frog from his pocket. “My sister always eats chocolate when she’s upset, and she’s a girl, and you’re a girl, and you looked kind of sad, so...” He gives her a lopsided grin.

“I’m not supposed to take candy from strangers,” she says. 

He––Harry––rolls his eyes. “I just told you, my name’s Harry.” He shifts a bit, then points to the house on the left of hers. “That’s my house there.”

“What if I don’t want to believe you?” she challenges, but she’s failing miserably not to grin at how utterly exasperated he’s getting.

With a defeated sigh, Harry shouts towards the house. “Oi, Gem!” It takes only a few seconds for a head to peak out of an upstairs window. 

An older girl, maybe around thirteen looks like she could throttle him. “I’m on the phone, Harry! Bugger off or I swear I’ll––oh, no, no! Not you, Blake.” She disappears back into her room. 

Y/n can’t help but giggle, and Harry turns to her, a triumphant look on his face. “See. Told you.” 

Once again, he offers her the Freddo, but this time, she happily accepts it. They sit in a comfortable silence as she nibbles on the chocolate. 

“I’m Y/n,” she finally tells him. 

Harry studies her carefully. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Y/l/n your grandparents? Because I’ve been over there loads of times––she babysits me when my mum and Gem are busy––but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

She nods. “Me, my sister and my dad moved in last week.”

“And your mum?” he tilts his head.

Her teeth bite down on the inside of her cheek. She looks at him wearily before staring down into her lap. “It’s just us.”

“Oh,” is all he replies. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “My parents are separated too. My dad lives in the city, but I still see him most weekends.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see my mum again,” she frowns.

What he does next startles her, but she’s more surprised at how quickly she relaxes. He wraps an arm around her and brings her closer so she can lean on her shoulder. “Mum says hugs help a lot,” he says sheepishly, she can feel his eyes on her. She nods against him, and it encourages him to continue. “I’m sorry you can’t see your mum, but hey, you can always talk to me! I’ll be your friend.”

It’s her turn to look up. “You promise?”

“Promise.”

***

Y/n decides that she really likes living with her grandparents. Her and Harry are practically inseparable, spending the better part of the day together (and sometimes during the night when they have sleepovers). This means that she hasn’t cried in a long time, and she’s heard her daddy tell her grandparents that things are finally starting to look up. Her daddy looks better than he has been in ages, he doesn’t have that faraway look in his eyes anymore. 

Harry usually comes over after breakfast, or even earlier when he knows Nan will be making French toast just the way he likes it. They play the entire day, a variety of games that range from hopscotch to pretend, to sneaking into Gemma’s room to dig into her stash of sugary treats because the girl has enough Freddo frogs to last her until next Christmas. He even likes to draw with her, even though she knows he rather be outside running around. 

Sometimes Gramps will drive them into town, and they’ll go to the park or the ice cream parlor or their favorite Chinese restaurant. (She learns that she prefers shrimp over pork fried rice). There’s also a bakery that she thinks is the cutest place she’s ever seen. They serve all sorts of pastries and desserts that the owner, Martha, gives them for free when the rest of the customers aren’t looking. Y/n thinks that’s all to do with Harry. She’s eight, and she can already see how charming her best friend is. She’s glad that she has him by her side. He’s made her time here better than she could have ever imagined.

But soon enough, September comes along, and with it, school. Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous. While she and Harry will be attending the same school, he’s a year older, which means she might not see him nearly as much as she’d like. 

“It’ll be fun! You’ll see,” he tells her as they walk to school. “And we have breaktime, too. I can introduce you to all my friends, and you can introduce me to all of your new ones!” He sounds far too excited. 

Y/n pulls on his sleeve, and he clumsily stumbles back a bit. “But Harry,” she whines, digging the toe of her shoe into the sidewalk. “What if I don’t make any friends?” 

“You?” he gasps. “You’re like the most awesome person I know! Just be yourself.”

She doesn’t say a word, instead, she drops her head to look anxiously 

“Come on.” He takes her hand in his. “I’ll be at the end of the hall if you need me.” And they walk the rest of the way hand in hand. 

***

Harry drops her off at her classroom before going to find his. He promised he’d walk down with her for lunch, so at least she has that much to look forward to. When he disappears down the hall, she finally lets herself turn around to examine the place she’ll be spending the rest of the year in. 

The desks are all perfectly aligned, with names of her classmates in bold and colorful writing on cards at the very front. She quickly looks for her name and takes a seat. On the board, her teacher’s name is artfully written in the center. Miss Ferguson. She must have been the one who had greeted Y/n at the door a few minutes earlier. 

Y/n’s curiosity gets the best of her, and she starts committing every feature of the room to memory. The pictures of letters and corresponding objects and animals along the top of the blackboard are just like the ones from her old school. From her seat, she can see the playground, and she fantasizes about all the time she and Harry had spent on the monkey bars and hidden in the tube slide. 

“Do you want to trade notebooks?” Y/n turns in her seat in the direction of the voice. Behind her is a girl with blonde pigtails and an adorable gap between her two front teeth. “My mum always forgets that I don’t like purple.”

Y/n stares down at her own notebook, which is pink with white polka dots. “I like purple.” 

The girl grins widely. “Yay! You’re nice, I like you. I’m Penelope,” but as soon as she says it, her nose scrunches up in disgust. “But I hate being called that. So, just call me P or Penny!” Y/n gives a brief introduction, and the two girls trade notebooks. 

“You’re new, right?” Penny asks.

“Yup,” Y/n confirms, fishing her pencil case out of her backpack. “I moved here at the beginning of the summer.”

“Really? I’ve never lived anywhere besides here before, but when I’m older I want to live in London!” 

“That’s where I’m from,” Y/n says sheepishly. She hasn’t thought much about it, but when she does, she still misses it a fair amount. 

Penny’s hands go to her cheeks as she gapes in astonishment. “That’s so cool! What’s it like? Have you ever met the Queen?”

Y/n giggles. “I don’t even know where the Queen lives!” 

“Ugh, I’ve got so many things to teach you, then.” She and Penny make plans to hang out during breaktime and lunch.

Maybe Harry was right after all.

***

When the bell rings for lunch, Miss Ferguson’s class files out of the room in a somewhat straight-file line. Y/n walks behind Penny, her new friend is explaining all the proper ways to curtsy in front of a prince when a hand reaches out and tugs on the back of Y/n’s collar. 

She spins around, ready to thwack the whomever it might be. “I leave you for a few hours and you’ve already forgotten about me?” Harry smirks. 

“You just surprised me, that’s all,” she says. She’s fallen to the back of the line now. Penny stays back too and walks over to the two of them. “Harry, this is Penny! She’s in the same class.” 

Penny’s eyes nearly bug out of her head and her cheeks flush a shade of pink. “Hi-hi,” she stutters. Y/n stares at her for a moment, unsure where this sense of shyness has suddenly come from. She shakes her head, it’s probably just a draft from an open window. 

“Hi, Penny,” Harry returns kindly. He then turns back to Y/n. “Let’s go down to the cafeteria. I’m starving!” 

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Penny says, sounding much more like herself. Y/n walks in between them, feeling content. 

***

By the time she’s fifteen, Y/n has all she can ever ask for. Her dad doesn’t travel as much anymore, except for trips to the London office once a month, he’s able to work from Manchester. Ava’s seven now, and therefore able to cause all sorts of mischief. In fact, just last night, she’d eaten the entire leftover cake in the fridge when the rest of the family had gone to bed. She claims it was a ghost, but the frosting smeared across her face told everyone otherwise.

Penny’s practically moved in with them. Things at home aren’t always the best for her. Her mum usually spends the days drinking, the nights clubbing, and the early hours of the morning in some stranger’s bed. As for her dad, Penny doesn’t bring him up much. He decided to reconcile with his wife when Penny was three years old, leaving her and her mother penniless and alone. And well, she hasn’t spoken to him since. 

Finally, there’s Harry. He’s still her funny, sweet, and incredibly cute best friend. He’s sixteen now, far more mature than her. While they still spend loads of time together, he has his friends, and she has hers. Although, he does still come around for breakfast on the weekends––Nan’s French toast is still his most favorite thing on the planet––and they usually spend the rest of the time catching up on homework and watching movies they’ve already seen a million times. She loves how she’s never bored when she’s around him. They could be laying on the grass outside her house (much like they usually do) for hours, talking about nothing and everything, and still never run out of things to talk about. 

Except in the last few months. The thing is, Harry’s got himself a girlfriend, Lia, and she doesn’t like Y/n. There’s no logical explanation as to why, but whenever Y/n tries to talk to Harry at school, Lia slips her arms around him, like she’s claiming what’s hers, and glares at her until she has no choice but to retreat. She doesn’t have the heart to tell Harry that his first serious girlfriend is a total bitch, no matter how much she wants to. 

It’s a Friday night, Penny is staying over. She’s lazily flipping through last month’s edition of Vogue on Y/n’s desk. 

“Have you ever been in love?” she asks. 

“We’re fifteen. It’s not like there’s been much opportunity,” Y/n chuckles. She glances up momentarily from her sketchbook. If there’s a punchline, it never comes. She then gives her a look. “Why, have you?”

Penny shrugs. “Sometimes I think I am, but it doesn’t really matter. He’d never see me like that.” 

Y/n doesn’t respond to this. She’s heard stories about the boy Penny’s apparently fancied for ages now, but for some reason her friend refuses to give her a name. If she had to guess, it’s probably Bobby Baker from her French class. They dated for a few months when they were fourteen, but things had ended abruptly. Sometimes she’ll see them talking between classes and while in line for lunch. Her money’s definitely on Bobby.

Not wanting to press her for details, however, Y/n changes the topic. “Harry’s probably in love with Lia. I saw them snogging at the bust stop this morning.”

Penny groans. “They’re so gross!” she pretends to gag. “Oh, Harry. You’re so handsome! Kiss me before our lips dry out! Oh, Lia, you’re so pretty. Take this flower as a sign of my undying affections!” She imitates them, doing it so flawlessly. 

They share a look, and suddenly, they’re balled over in fits of laughter.

“How do they even breathe?” Y/n wheezes into her pillow. It’s not to say that she hasn’t kissed a boy before. It’s just never been as intense––or as nauseating––as that. Besides, none of her boyfriends have last long enough. Harry says that it’s all for the best, according to him, none of them are good enough for her. 

“They’re twos, you’re a total ten,” he had said to her once. She pretended not to feel her heart leap at the compliment. “A ten can’t go any lower than maybe a seven.” She wanted to say that she thought he was a ten, too, but was too embarrassed to say it.

***

Penny leaves early the next morning, but first helping herself to some of the food Nan had just prepared before zipping out the door. She leaves Y/n half asleep and barely functional.

“So, what’s the gossip?” Nan teases her, pouring her a cup of tea. 

“Same old, same old,” she yawns. She breathes in the steam from her mug and smiles. 

Nan places a plate of French toast in front of her. “Talking about the same old things until three in the morning? If only your grandfather and I could stay up that late. Of course, we’d be doing other things that decidedly aren’t–” she pauses, and Y/n’s never been more thankful. They both turn towards the back door. “Ah, and I was just beginning to worry.” 

Harry mutters a sleepy good morning, then stumbles into the seat beside Y/n. He looks at her breakfast, then looks at her. As if they can communicate silently, Y/n pushes her plate towards him. 

“Harry, dear,” Nan starts, making up a new plate for her granddaughter. “How does your mum feel about you spending so much time here?” 

“She’s fine with it,” he says, mouth full of bread. “As long as I bring her back some food, she says I can spend as much time here as I want.” 

Nan just rolls her eyes. “Will that be banana or blueberry then?”

“Hmm...” Harry pretends to mull over the options, but Nan knows better. Y/n watches with amusement as she places both bananas and blueberries on top of the French toast, then places it on a disposable plate and wraps it with tinfoil. 

She turns to them. “I’m just going to pop next door and give this to Anne.” Just before she can slide the door open, she calls one last remark over her shoulder. “Try not to burn the house down. We just had the floors waxed.” 

Y/n continues to sip on her tea, and Harry hums happily around another delectable bite. They sit in comfortable silence. 

“I feel like we haven’t talked in a while,” he says. He looks at her curiously. “Why is that?”

She has to bite her lip in order to stop herself from saying something she’ll regret. “Well, you know. I’ve been really busy lately.” From the corner of her eye, she can see how one of his brows shoot straight up.

“Busy with?”

“You know there’s an art show happening soon. I’ve been spending all my time in the art room.” She knows she isn’t convincing anyone, let alone him. He can read her like a book.

But if Harry is thinking she’s lying, then he doesn’t say anything. “Right,” he says aloofly. Taking another bite of his––her––breakfast, he continues. “Lia’s going to have a few pieces on display.”

This catches her off guard. “Lia’s into art? Since when?” 

He gives her a noncommitted grunt. “It’s news to me too.” He takes her mug from her hands and takes a sip. “But she seemed really interested when I mentioned you were participating.”

“Huh.” She rests her chin on her fist. That’s strange. She’s never seen Lia Hall set foot anywhere near the art room. Lia’s a cheerleader and spends most of her time cheering on the school’s football team, which is how she and Harry got together. Y/n would know if they shared any common interests. At least that way, she could talk to Harry without her grumbling bloody murder under her breath. 

“What is it?” his question pulls her out of thought. She plasters a smile on her face and says it’s nothing. 

***

Her bedroom window is right across from his, and they’ve been using it to their advantage since they were kids. When they both had bedtimes that were too early to ever enjoy the night, they would look out their window and find the other looking right back. They’d spend the night trying to make the other laugh with funny faces and their own little game of charades. 

But as Y/n looks up from her half-finished essay and through the glass, she doesn’t need elaborate hand motions to know that Harry is pissed. She wonders if he realizes where he’s standing or maybe he just doesn’t care right now. He looks like he’s trying to stay calm, but Y/n knows him better than that. While he isn’t one to yell, his voice does get tight when he’s trying hard not to. 

He runs a hand through his brown locks in frustration. She feels guilty for not having the strength to turn away, but she’s just too curious for her own good. If only she could read his lips just to get an idea as to why he’s so upset, but alas, that’s never been her talent. She waits, occasionally working on her essay (occasionally), then lifting her head back up to check up on him. 

When she looks up after a stroke of genius that had promoted words to pour out onto the page, he’s gone. Her shoulders drop in disappointment. Oh, well. At least all she has to do now is proofread. 

“Did you know your nan is making pot pie for dinner?” 

She swivels in her chair, her eyebrow tilting up. “I did.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?” he pretends to be hurt as he falls onto her bed. “I’m wounded you would choose to withhold such valuable information from me.”

“I’m sorry?” she chuckles. Closing her laptop, she sits on the floor right beside where his head falls of the side of the bed. 

He turns to her, his upside-down face grinning pompously at her. “Eh, you know I can never stay mad at you.” She thumps his forehead with another laugh, but he only continues to smile.

*** 

Y/n’s always loved art and how it can imitate life in the way the artist chooses. Ever since she can remember, she’s been doodling landscapes and portraits on napkins or just about any plain surface she can get her hands on. She thinks she gets it from her mum. There’s not much she can remember about her, but she does recall her mother’s love for the fine arts. And as much as she tries not to think about her, she’s happy she knows where she gets it from. 

Mrs. Cuomo, the art teacher, says she has a gift, and Y/n tries not to let it get to her head, but she can’t help it! She’s already taken to looking for art programs around England. If she wouldn’t miss her family too much, she’d consider going abroad. 

“Paris seems fabulous, don’t you think? I mean, they have some of the best fashion schools in the world.” Penny muses as they walk around the gallery. “French boys are a plus.”

“Is that where you want to go after college?” 

“Possibly. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to afford it, though.” 

Y/n nods, understanding her friend’s situation.

They continue to browse all the art on display, until stopping at Y/n’s exhibit. She has three paintings. The one on the left is an abstract portrait of Ava that she’d been working on since the last art show. It was inspired by her little sister’s fifth birthday. Dad had bought her the cutest little periwinkle dress with a grey ribbon around the waist. It’s something Y/n would’ve been over the moon for at that age. But Ava being the little rebel she was (and still is) had gotten it all dirty. Right before her party, she came trudging back into the house, a complete mess from head to toe. Y/n’s entitled the portrait Muddy Princess. On the right is a landscape of a forest with the simple name Serene Acres. Finally, the one in the middle is a sideview of a boy laying in the grass. His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed. He looks relaxed, like he’s never had a trouble in the world. As do all her paintings, this one had started off as a mere sketch born from a vision that she suddenly had just as she had woken up. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if she’d make it anything more than that. But the longer she spent refining it, she just knew she had to take it all the way. There’s something comforting about him. This one in particular is Y/n’s absolute favorite. 

“Oh, you’re totally going to win this year,” Penny enthuses. “I’m not saying this because you’re my best friend and I’d literally give you a kidney, but seriously. You’re golden.” 

“I hope you’re right,” she says nervously. “Mrs. Cuomo said that the judges are going to be a lot more critical this year. I just hope they like my stuff.” 

Penny waves her off, as if she were talking nonsense. “They will.”

“Will what?” A pair of familiar hands land on her waist, and she can’t help but smile when sees him gasp at the wall in front of her. “Woah,” he’s speechless. She pats his arm as she steps away from him, afraid that his girlfriend might catch sight of them. 

“You like them?” she smiles. He nods, still unable to speak. 

“So, where’s Lia’s display?” Penny asks, but Y/n can sense the annoyance in her voice. She knows all about the girl’s hatred of Y/n.

Harry stares blankly, until finally registering the question. “Oh...um. She decided not to enter, after all.” He wraps an arm Y/n once again, and this time, Y/n doesn’t bother pushing him off.

“That seems sudden,” she says.

“Well...” Harry looks left and right, like he’s making sure no one will hear them. “I guess she realized that she didn’t stand a chance.”

This makes Penny snort. “Are we talking about the same girl here? Lia Hall does not back down. From anything. I’ve seen her at the mall fighting over jeans with University kids. She’s scary as hell.”

***

She’s laying on the grass on her front lawn when Harry comes outside and joins her. His body is oriented in the opposite direction so that their eyes are aligned if they were to face each other. He doesn’t say anything more than a hello. His hands are placed on his stomach and his nose wriggles when a cool breeze brushes past. 

“Lia and I broke up,” he suddenly says, but his voice is even and calm. 

“I’m sorry.”

He laughs loudly. “No, you’re not.” He glances at her before facing back up. “I don’t have to be a mind reader to know that you two don’t get along.”

“At least I know you’re not dense.” She bites back a smile. Why is she so elated with the news? Does that make her a bad person? Who’s to say? “She was pretty awful.”

“She was hot, though,” Harry interjects.

“I suppose.”

Silence washes over them. If she were any more relaxed, she’s sure she could fall asleep right here, next to him. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“What?”

“The clouds, Harry. Aren’t they beautiful?” She giggles when he squints at the grey canvas above them. 

“There are no clouds,” he says flatly. He turns his head, their eyes lock.

She swallows, and she’s the first to turn away. With a content sigh, she lets her eyes droop closed. Even without looking, she can feel the way his gaze lingers, like he might be waiting for something more. “You too,” it’s a gentle request, possibly an order. He’s never been able to deny her anything. 

“Alright then,” there’s an amused tone to his voice now. He breathes deeply, his own eyes closing as the air leaves his chest. 

They lay motionless for a comfortable few minutes. Things are quiet between them, and only nature’s melody that plays uninterrupted. 

The wind whistles, and the leaves on the trees dance along with crisp and breezy movements. As the air––which smells strongly of fall’s fiery allure––rubs against her skin and tickles the tip of her nose, another blissful smile leaves a pattern across her lips.

“What do you see?” she asks.

“Not much, honestly. My eyes are closed.” 

She punches his arm. “Don’t be an arse.”

He groans out in pain. “Fine then,” he concedes. “What do you see?”

The image is vivid in her head. “Purple clouds.”

He chuckles softly.

“What color is the grass?”

“Green, of course.”

“That’s boring,” he teases.

She huffs in annoyance. “Not everything needs changing, you know.” He doesn’t challenge it.

“And the sky?”

That’s her favorite part. 

“Tangerine.”

“That’s a fruit.”

“and a color.”

“Why can’t you just say orange?” 

“Because,” she starts in her best ‘you better listen to me or else’ tone. “Orange is a meh kind of color. But tangerine? It’s a bit more exciting.”

“Exciting,” he repeats slowly, as though he were testing the weight of the word on his tongue. 

When she opens her eyes, fully expecting him to be looking at her as though she had two heads, she’s surprised to see that his are still closed. She finds herself studying him. The way his chest steadily rises and falls with each even breath. He looks as calm as she feels at that moment. It’s then she can appreciate just how handsome he really is. Of course, she’s known it for a while (but she’d never tell him that).

So, she turns her head back towards the grey-washed sky and paints over its gloom with an image of their own. 

***

Right before he starts Year 13, Harry’s dad, Des, moves to Boston. Harry tries to act like it doesn’t bother him, but Y/n knows that he misses him a lot. Even though his parents have been separated for a long time, he’d at least had a good relationship with both of them. He and his dad would do “manly” things like fishing and batting at the cages. He keeps telling her that he’s fine, and it’s not like he’ll never visit him, but she can sense that something is troubling him. 

It takes a bit of finesse to get him to talk, and once he does, she immediately regrets it. 

“He wants me to follow him,” Harry says, scratching the back of his head. Y/n thinks she might throw up. Boston...America...it’s just so far away. The farthest she’s ever been is Italy on vacation. 

She stares at him apprehensively. “Do you...umm...do you want to go?” 

Harry doesn’t answer her at first. It takes to the count of five for him speak. “I don’t know. Probably not. I mean...it’s a lot to ask, don’t you think? He’s asking me to uproot my life here.” He gazes at her. “And I really like it here.”

She lets out the breath she’d been holding. She doesn’t think she’d be able to handle being that far from him. He’ll be starting University in the fall, and him going to London already feels too much. Goodbyes aren’t easy for her, and she doesn’t think they’ll ever get easier. 

“At least both parents want you,” she doesn’t realize what she’s saying until it’s up in the air. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“No, it’s fine,” she shrugs him off. “It’s just, you’re lucky that both of them love you.”

Harry appears to think hard on this. “I love you.”

Her heart stops beating, her eyes double in size.

“What?” 

He reddens, and for once, she can’t tell what’s going through his head. His jaw juggles back and forth, and then he coughs like he’s got something stuck in his throat. He wipes a hand down his face. “I mean, you’re my best friend, of course I do.” 

Just as quickly as it had enlarged, something inside her deflates. “Oh, right,” she tries not to sound disappointed. It’s a little awkward now, but she’s at least comforted in the fact that he values her so much. She nudges her elbow against him. “Hey,” she quips.

He tilts his head.

“I love you too, doofus.” 

***

Y/n’s always thought her dad to be a kind and fair man.

Matthew Y/l/n doesn’t spoil his girls, but he also knows how to reward them for a job well done. He’s also one of those approachable dads, the ones you can talk to about a crush without him getting overly protective. From when she was eight and until now, he’s always been there for her and Ava, and for that, Y/n is forever grateful. 

Which is why she feels like she can discuss this one teensy little thing with him. Now, Y/n, she’s made up her mind about wanting to pursue a career as an artist. Some might say it’s insane! Risky! Financial suicide! But isn’t the threat of failure all the more reason to strive? She thinks so, and she just knows that her dad will too!

After dinner, which is when her dad is at his happiest. His belly is full of Nan’s roast, and he’s sitting next to Gramps on the couch while they watch sports. This is her chance. She’s already practiced on everyone else in the house, plus Penny and Harry, so she has a pretty solid plan on how to approach him.

“Hey, daddy,” she says sweetly, plopping between him and Gramps. He smiles at her and flings an arm around her shoulder. He returns his attention back to the telly. She gives Gramps a look, one so pleading that she thinks she might have just made him tear up, and he clears his throat and excuses himself. 

“I’ve, uh, got to take a shit.” And he stumbles into the hall, Nan’s snorting following closely behind. 

“So, dad, there’s something I actually want to talk about,” she starts, turning so she’s completely facing him. Matthew presses on the remote so that the screen is completely black. He prods her to continue. 

Y/n chuckles nervously. No big deal. “You know how I’m like crazy about my art? I mean, I’ve won three competitions in the last nine months!” 

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ve been telling everyone at work that my daughter’s an artist. You should’ve seen Anthony’s face when he found out you were the one who beat his boy out for the ribbon...”

“Yeah, thanks, Dad.” She can feel herself getting excited. “And I’m so proud that I get to make you proud. I mean, you’ve given me so much, I feel like it’s the least I can do.” On her lips is her most dazzling smile. 

He eyes her suspiciously. “Okay, I’m sensing something else going on here. Spit it out.”

“Well, it’s just that next year is my last year of college, and I’ll be applying to universities soon, so I was hoping that we could talk about me pursuing art.”

“Pursuing art, as in...?”

“Dad, I want to be an artist.” That wasn’t so bad, right? She can see her dad’s face waver in emotion. At first, he looks confused, then maybe a little unsure, but then he’s just unreadable. “Thoughts?” she presses.

“No.”

Had she just heard him right? “What?”

“No.”

“But, Dad–”

“There’s little to no security. The odds of you even making a decent living out of it are practically one in a million.”

“Wait, just hear me out first...”

“I’ve heard enough, Y/n. You’re not going to throw away an education on a hobby.” He sighs, and for a moment, he looks almost guilty. “Look, I’m not telling you to never paint again. I’m just saying that you need to approach this from a more realistic point of view. How about you major in something more reliable––like business or nursing––then minor in what you want?” He continues to ramble on about different prospects, but she’s completely drowned him out by now.

There’s a spot on the rug that’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Where had she gone wrong? He’s never been so forceful with his decisions before. Had she overlooked a portion of her speech? 

“Mum loved art,” she whispers, but it’s just loud enough for him to hear.

Matthew stiffens at the mention of his estranged wife. “Your mother loved a lot of things. A lot more than she ever loved us.” And with that, he gets up and leaves.

***

“I think you should go for it,” she can always count on Harry to support her. 

She sighs, burying her face in his pillow. It smells of coconut and lavender. After her dad had walked out, she’d ran across the yard and had tackled Harry with a hug while he was taking out the trash. He’d given her some water (God knows how hysterical she’d been moments prior) before leading her up to his room so she could calm down.

“What if Dad’s right?” she mutters. “What if this really is just a hobby?” She suddenly feels herself being flipped onto her back, his legs straddling either side of her, his eyes boring into hers like lasers. Thoughts flash through her head, and it crosses her mind that he might actually kiss her. But he remains still.

“Look at me,” he says. “You’re amazing, and you know it. I know it. This whole damn town knows it. If there’s one person I know can make it as an artist, it’s you.”

While his words do encourage her, she’s far more concerned with how close he is. She nods in acknowledgement, and he flops next to her. Both of them stare at the ceiling. She wonders if he ever feels what she feels. 

“I got you something,” he says after a few minutes. He quickly turns and fishes for something under his bed.

“A present?” she doesn’t bother hiding the playfulness in her voice.

He kicks the side of her leg. “Grow up.”

“Can’t, I’m too excited.”

He pulls out a giftbag and hands it to her. “Saw this when I was out with Mum and well, it reminded me of you.” 

Peeking into the bag, she immediately smiles. “Is this...is this a frog?”

“Yeah, because remember when we first met? I gave you a–”

“Chocolate frog,” she finishes. It’s a plush toy the size of a basketball and its body is the same colors as their special world. Harry must’ve picked it out because of it. He’s always been thoughtful like that. It shouldn’t surprise her, but whenever he remembers these little things, she can’t help but feel weak at the knees. She and hugs her new frog to her chest. “It’s so cute! Oh, what should we name it?”

“Well, I feel like there’s only one appropriate name for it,” he winks.

“Kaleidoscope?” 

“That...that wasn’t even close to what I was going to say.”

She giggles, reaching over and bringing him in for a hug. “I’m just messing with you! We’ll obviously be calling him Freddo.” She sighs happily when his arms hold on to her tightly. Yeah, she likes his hugs a lot.

***

It’s the middle of March when Harry’s cousin comes to live with him. Jared is about his age, with the same shade of brown hair, only his is straight as opposed to Harry’s mess of wavy curls. Harry had told her that Jared’s mother (Anne’s sister, Sonya) had just passed away after her battle with cancer, and Y/n’s heart broke for the boy she barely knows. Similar to Penny’s situation, Jared’s dad isn’t in the picture. He’d left him and his mum before he was even born, and according to Harry, Jared’s always been very bitter about it.

Jared doesn’t leave his room much, only for school and for meals. Harry’s the only person he talks to because he wants to, not because he has to. They were practically like brothers before Jared had moved away, which Y/n is surprised to hear since she’s never heard of him before. But apparently when they were kids––way before Y/n moved in next door––Jared and his mum would always come over Harry’s house, and they’d play until one of them had to be forcibly dragged away. She had laughed when Harry had told her the story of how he and Jared had gotten stuck in the tree out back for five hours because the adults were so busy chatting inside.  

Sometimes Y/n will stop by and personally offer him some of Nan’s famous chocolate pie, and he’ll accept it only to give it to Harry once she leaves. Of course, she knows it’s nothing personal against her, it just makes her sad that she can’t help someone who is so important to her best friend. It’s hard for her to see Harry worry so much about him, and she really is trying her hardest to help him out. She doesn’t think Jared hates her, if anything, she always catches him staring at her in the halls when he thinks she doesn’t notice. That’s a promising sign, right?

“I happen to think he’s very good looking,” Penny tells her as they walk to Physics. “He kind of reminds of a young Leo.”

“You said the same thing about Harry last week,” Y/n giggles.

“They’re related, aren’t they? Maybe beautiful genes run in the family.”

Penny looks at her. “What do you think?”

She stares back at her. “About?”

“You know, Jared!” 

Y/n’s lips purse together. She hadn’t given him much thought, honestly. 

***

She’s glued to her sketchpad while sitting on the front lawn when she notices a shadow approach her. Not bothering to look up, she pats the spot beside her.

“Nan says that the pudding will be ready in ten,” she says. 

“That’s...cool.” That’s not Harry.

Tearing her eyes away from her latest drawing, she turns her head and sees the last person she expected. “Jared! Hi!” she squeaks.

He offers her a side grin. “Hey,” is all he says. He looks down into her lap. “You’re really good.”

“Oh, thank you.”

He rubs his hands on his jeans before settling them around his ankles. “Uh...do you mind if I sit here with you? You can say no, I was just feeling a little stuffed up in–”

“Of course! I love company!” she smiles broadly.

“I don’t know, you and that pencil were looking pretty cozy,” he suggests. She quirks a brow at him, but when the signs of a smirk begin to change the way his eyes gleam, she finally gets it.

“Jesus, that’s disgusting!” She doesn’t hesitate to slap him over the head. He sniggers in return but doesn’t say much more after that. Y/n continues to draw, but occasionally she’ll look up and catch him watching her. He immediately turns away, pretending to be busy with a blade of grass, or he’ll start whistling like it’s a sitcom.  

***

It doesn’t take long before Jared finally opens up to her. He’s funny––really funny, even though most of his humor is dirty––and is constantly finding ways to make Y/n laugh. She’s found that he does a nearly perfect impression of Austin Powers, and she enjoys it very much. There are also certain angles that really highlight how handsome he is. His eyes are a deep brown, almost the same shade as his hair. There are freckles evenly spread around his nose, almost as if they’d been specifically placed there. And oh, his lashes! They’re just as long as Harry’s, except maybe even fuller. She imagines what they would look like with a fresh coat of mascara. (She jokingly brought up the idea once, and to her delight, Jared says he wouldn’t mind it one bit.)

Harry seems happy that his cousin appears to be back to his old, goofball self. He’s definitely not as stressed over trying to get Jared out of his room as he had been in the immediate weeks after his Aunt Sonya’s death. Even Anne is starting to smile more. Losing her sister had been difficult for her, but Y/n admires how she had stepped up and took her nephew in without hesitance. She’s almost positive that that’s where Harry gets his selflessness from.

“Okay, real question, would you rather give up all desserts or all cheeses?” Jared asks. He always plays this game with her. She thinks it’s cute, sometimes even thought-provoking if she’s really into it. 

“Hmm, that’s a tricky one. Because what about–”

Both their eyes grow wide. “Cheesecake!”

Her head falls onto his shoulder as she laughs. She doesn’t see how Harry turns away. Although, sometimes she’ll notice how he’ll have this weird look in his eyes whenever the three of them are all hanging out together, but she thinks she’s just imagining it. 

***

When Penny tells her that Jared might like her, she doesn’t totally object to the idea.

***

A few days later, Jared kisses her. It’s one of those kisses that happen when you least expect it. She’s frozen in shock until his lips pull away. It’s strange, she likes the feeling, but something seems amiss. He looks at her nervously, like he’s afraid he’s done something completely wrong. But when she finally manages to get over that initial uncertainty, a grin slowly forms on her lips, and he’s kissing her again.

***

In two weeks’ time, she sees Harry snogging Penny outside his front door. She isn’t sure how to react, but she knows there’s this weird feeling inside of her that she doesn’t like.

***

Her and Harry haven’t spoken more than a few words to each other since they started dating other people. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk to him, in fact, she really misses him. Saturday morning breakfasts just aren’t the same without him shuffling into the kitchen in his half-asleep state. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was going out of his way to avoid her. Penny says that maybe he’s just feeling awkward because her two best friends are dating. (It turns out Harry had been the guy she’d been pining over for years.)

Maybe that’s true, but shouldn’t that make it easier for them to find themselves in the same room? She’s happy that Penny’s finally happy! Things hadn’t worked out with her last two boyfriends because all they wanted was to take advantage of her. If there’s one thing she’s sure about, it’s that Harry would never cross any lines that Penny hadn’t invited him to cross.

When they’re in Harry’s car, she’ll catch glimpse of how Harry takes Penny’s hand over the console, or how she’ll feed him fries from their takeaway. It makes her happy to see them like this. Really, it does.

Jared is just as much a gentleman, too. They haven’t done anything past snogging, and she’s okay with that. She isn’t even sure she’s ready for that type of commitment. It’s not like she has this idealized fantasy about losing her virginity. She doesn’t expect it to happen in the same way as the movies, with candles and a bed full of rose petals, or any of that romantic stuff. If the time’s right, it’s right. All she wants is to make sure her heart’s a hundred and ten percent in it before she lets anyone in. She wonders if Penny and Harry have talked about going all the way.

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it.”

“Oh,” Y/n tries not to sound surprised. “And how did that go?”

Penny gives a noncommitted answer. “He says he’s willing to wait until I’m ready. But the thing is, I’m ready now!”

***

Penny loses her virginity soon after. Y/n is the first person she calls, and it’s a bunch of squealing and bragging about how perfect it all was. How gentle and attentive he’d been, and how she can’t wait to do it again. It takes everything in her to not hang up. She loves Penny to death, but some things––at least in her opinion––are left unsaid.

***

The first time she and Harry get to spend time together, as in just the two of them, is when Jared is stuck in bed with a cold, and Penny is out with her mum. It’s not exactly planned, in fact, she had only seen him from the living room window whilst helping Nan dust the mantel. Deciding she couldn’t let the opportunity pass, she drops the feather duster and runs out the front door.

“Hey, stranger,” she greets, but she doesn’t sit. It’s only now she sees the bottle of beer hanging between his fingers. He usually only drinks when he’s got something messing with his head. 

He nods at her, and gestures to the spot beside him. She sits, but it feels to calculated for them. Usually, she’d plop down, not caring if their knees would brush together. Now, she’s careful to leave at least a few inches between them. And she hates how awkward things feel between them. In a matter of months, they’d gone from being attached at the hip, to barely acquaintances. 

“So, what’s going on?”

He takes a sip from the bottle, his face twitching with disgust as he does so, then takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel like things should be different?”

A sudden gust of wind lifts her hair over her shoulders. She doesn’t know if the goosebumps running down her spin are from that or the it’s from the magnitude of his question. “Different, how?”

His features soften when he finally looks at her. As in, really looks at her. It feels like so long since he’s done, that it takes her breath away. He doesn’t say anything yet, but she can see in his eyes that there’s something there. 

“Harry?” she whispers.

His eyes drop down to her lips, and he licks his own in reaction. Nothing seems to matter at that moment. If her mind had been juggling with thoughts before this, it isn’t now. All she can think about his him. How good it feels to be so close him, and how she wants to be closer. 

Then it hits her. Jared. She’s with Jared, and Harry’s with Penny. She’d been leaning into him, but now that she’s broken from his trance, she straightens up.

Harry brushes off his disappointment with another sip from his beer. His stare lands across the street, where a pair of children are chasing each other around a tree. He drops his head, his hand wrapping around the base of his neck.

“I’m leaving for Boston tomorrow.”

She nods slowly. “Visiting your dad?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Something like that.”

Finally, he stands up, then offers her his hand so she can too. He doesn’t let go right away, and she revels in how good it feels. She smiles down to where they’re holding each other, then stares into his green orbs. 

Pulling on her arm, she’s suddenly trapped in his embrace. She hugs him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulder blades and pinching his t-shirt between her fingers. It’s all a bit confusing, but she continues to cling to him. She feels his nose nudge the crown of her head before he lets go.

He turns around and doesn’t look back. 

She isn’t sure what just happened, but it feels a lot like goodbye.

*** Ten Years Later

“It doesn’t feel right,” she sighs. “I can’t be the only one who’s thinking it.” He shuffles in place, eyes scanning the room around them. “What do you suggest then?”

“Take this to the empty wall by the entrance, then move the Reynalda exhibit closer to the back. It’s our main attraction, we have to make people work for it.”

Angelo nods approvingly, and she calls a thank you out to him as he gets to work. Y/n watches the rest of her staff disperse into their allocated directions, and it’s then she can finally take a moment for herself. Sometimes she feels suffocated, but at the same time so hollow.

There are so many reasons why Y/n shouldn’t be feeling as empty as she does now. After all, her life is pretty damn close to perfect. She graduated university with high honors, she has a well-paying job as director of a prestigious art gallery, and she lives in a beautiful two-bedroom apartment with her adoring fiancé who she’s been with for the better part of a decade. 

She can’t pinpoint when exactly she realized that something had been missing, or maybe this feeling has always existed somewhere deep inside, and she’s just been really good at hiding it. The only person who knows about this internal battle is Ava, but Y/n doesn’t like to bother her too much since she’s busy with coursework, as well as her own problems that come with being nineteen and young. 

Of course, there’s Jared. Her love. Her rock. Her other half. She doesn’t know why can’t talk about this with him. Maybe it’s too much of girl problem, or maybe it’s just guilt. The last thing she wants him to think is that he’s not enough to fill this void in her life. If anything, he’d been able to pick up all her damaged pieces when she just couldn’t. He’s great, more than. She depends on him, and he’s never let her down. 

But if that’s true. Why can’t she just be honest?

***

“Right, I’m heading out now. I’ll see you–” he pauses, and she can see the concern overtake his features from the reflection of the blank television screen. He walks around their living room and kneels in front of her, his hands rubbing her lower thighs with every intention to soothe her. “What’s wrong?”

“I...I don’t really know,” she laughs, then shakes her head. “It’s silly, really. You go ahead. Go have fun with Sid.” It’s her best attempt at a smile, but it’s a weak one. 

He looks at her unsurely, like he’s debating if he should protest or not. She kisses him gently on the lips. 

“Go.” And she nudges him to his feet. Although she can tell he’s hesitant, he eventually concedes, leaning down for just one more peck to her forehead, then he’s out the door.

She needs to find a way to depress this strange feeling. It’s starting to affect too much of her life. A life that she enjoys, thank you very much.

Before she falls slave to her thoughts, she slumps into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of cabernet. Maybe it’s a far too generous portion, but is there ever such thing as too much wine? At least for tonight, the answer is no.

The alcohol burns her throat with its bitter sweetness, and she finds comfort in how it settles at the pit of her stomach. She breathes in deeply. This is just what she needs. It’s all in her head. Stress, probably. 

Just as she’s about to rewrap herself in her blanket, the front door opens and closes with a gentle thud. She swings around, brows curling in question as Jared slips off his coat leans against the nearest wall.

“Sid will understand. You’re the one who needs me tonight.” 

She leans against the arm of the couch, a moved smile playing at her lips because, wow. How did she get so lucky?

***

“I found another grey hair this morning,” Jared says. “Is this what getting old feels like?”

She runs her fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-eight, Jae. And besides, silver foxes are pretty sexy.” 

“I guess I’m a bit of a Clooney.” And he wags his brows suggestively. If he’s trying to come onto her, it’s not exactly working, but she’s also not completely turned off. This is why they’re good together. After all these years he still knows how to make her laugh.

They’re about a quarter though their takeaway (and she’s so touched that Jared decided to stay home that she doesn’t even say anything about the pork fried rice) when their doorbell sounds.

“I got it, hun,” he says, placing his plate on the coffee table, and grabbing a napkin before greeting the unexpected guest.

Y/n is pleasantly surprised when Penelope falls into the seat beside her. She looks dressed for a date, but the way she blows ferociously into the air, Y/n knows that things haven’t gone her way.

Without asking, Penny helps herself to their food, moaning as she stuffs a spoonful of that same fried rice into her mouth. “If I wasn’t wearing this dress, I would a hundred percent finish this whole thing.”

“You can borrow some clothes,” Y/n offers. Her friend pretends to contemplate, but she’s the first one to stride over into the master bedroom. 

Y/n pulls out a fresh pair of pajamas, and when she turns around, her mouth quirks in a mixture of amusement and suspicion. Under Penny’s dress is the daintiest set of red lace lingerie she’s ever seen. (And she has her fair share of lingerie since she knows it drives Jared wild.)

“Looks like you were in for a sexier evening,” she muses. She tosses Penny the set.

Her friend rolls her eyes. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing,” she says. Y/n isn’t quite sure what she means by it, but smirks, nonetheless.  

“Now...” Penny pulls her hair through the hem of the borrowed shirt, “let’s finish off that food, shall we?”

Jared doesn’t say anything when they get back, either too consumed with his egg rolls or not wanting to interject himself into the conversation. Y/n simply kisses him on the cheek as she settles back into her meal. 

She glances at Penny for a moment, and her curiosity becomes overpowering. “Okay, so I wasn’t going to ask, but I feel like I have to now,” she explains. Penny cocks a brow at her. “What happened tonight.”

“He cancelled last minute. I was already at the damn restaurant when he texted saying something came up.” She stabs a piece of orange chicken. “It’s a bunch of bullocks if you ask me.” Typical Penny. It wouldn’t be fair to say that her friend is prone to trust issues, but it does take a little more effort. Ever since Harry had broken up with her back when they were seventeen, she hasn’t kept a relationship for more than a few weeks because she claims she doesn’t want to risk getting her heart broken again.

Harry Styles had broken her best friend’s heart, then disappeared to another country. Y/n hates him for that. She hates that he threw away all those years of friendship without a proper explanation. She hates that he abandoned her, especially when he knew how insecure she is about goodbyes. 

But not every guy is Harry. There are good ones that will stick by you no matter what, like Jared. Y/n reaches over and brushes his bangs away from his eyes. Penny just needs to find her person, and Y/n just knows that once she does, she’ll finally feel right.

“This is that Ahmed guy from the gym, right? I don’t know, Pen. He’s a decent bloke. Maybe something really did happen.”

Penny pulls a face, like she’s just oversaturated her food with soy sauce. “Wouldn’t hold my breath. He’s got baggage, and he won’t accept that he isn’t happy to carry it anymore.”

That last bit sticks to her. 

***

Her job requires her to have both a deep appreciation for art and a mind for marketing strategy. It had been the closest compromise that she and her father had come to when she had started her plight for a degree. 

After spending the last of her year of secondary school having second thoughts about the plausibility of making it in the art world, she decided that maybe her dad was right, after all. He would tell her to be in charge, to take control of her life. That way, she’d never be blindsided by anything. She’s still around the world she loves––the canvas, the acrylics, the community of dreamers who share their passion with the world––just from a more business perspective. The more she reflects on those naïve teenage years, the more she appreciates the direction she’d took. She has the best of both worlds, in her opinion. A steady income, and a building full of paintings and sculptures and history. What more can she ask for?

“Y/n!” She looks over her shoulder, where Angelo, her assistant, waves some a sizeable file in his hands. He gives her a knowing smirk.

“Good news?” she teases.

Angelo hands her the file. “Sales report can confirm.”

She glosses it over, satisfied with the numbers. Looks like she’d inherited more from her dad than just his advice. “And they said Expressionism was dead.” Their last grand showcase had been an ode to the German Expressionism movement. They had drawn criticism in the days leading up to the event because some saw it as outdated. But that’s just ridiculous. Art is art. And while history remains in the past, it doesn’t mean that it can’t be appreciated. Y/n’s vision for the gallery is embrace both the old and the new.

“Degenerates,” Angelo rolls his eyes. “Anyway, Dax, Narsi, and I are thinking Damond’s for lunch. You in?”

She looks down at her watch, and curses under her breath. “Can’t,” she sighs. “I have to interview the new curator in a bit.”

“You work too much,” he says humorously, but they both know there’s truth stitched into his words. He gives a friendly squeeze to her elbow. “Bring you back sandwich?” 

“Please,” she smiles. He gives her a mock salute before turning on his heel. 

When he’s completely out of sight, she lets her lips fall into a frown. She examines her watch again, there’s still a few minutes until their scheduled virtual call. She uses the time to stroll the halls, something she doesn’t really get to do. Well, not for fun, at least. 

Things are currently in transition, and all of the Maximalism works are finding their way onto her walls. She stops in front of one in particular that just screams color. With its carefully planned, yet freeing mixture of patterns and textures, it’s a piece to tickle the brain. 

“It’s beautiful.” Her eyes widen. That voice. She feels everything from her body to her unsuspecting heart freeze.

Her grip on her own arm tightens painfully. She thinks she might turn blue from her inability to breathe at this moment. 

“I’ve always liked how much of the artist we can feel. It really captures the complexity of character.”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “I agree.” She risks all and looks up, and he’s right there waiting for her. Harry. Her arms drop to her side as she feels herself grow weak.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Hi,” he whispers, then smiles. That smile. She had tried so hard not to think about how it had once been her favorite image. His dimples have caved in deeper, if that’s even possible. And his eyes, they’re the same brilliant green she remembers. “I saw an ad in the paper and thought I’d check it out.”

Something must be strangling her vocal cords because she finds that she’s unable to make a sound. 

***

“And what did you do?” 

Y/n drops her head to the table, not even caring if it’s dirty. With the day she’s had, it’s the least of her problems. “I was in shock! I-I think I might have screamed at him.” 

Ava snorts into her drink. 

There’s not much about earlier that she can clearly recall, but she does remember how she had fled to her car and driven halfway across the city to her sister’s dorm and dragged her to the nearest pub. Why? Because she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“Why would he just...show up?” she questions. “It makes no sense!”

“Probably got homesick,” Ava shrugs. “Plus, Dad says it’s been in the work–”

“Wait,” Y/n’s head snaps towards her. “Dad knows?”

The younger woman looks at her as if she were insane. “Duh, he’s the one that approved the transfer.”

“But why am I only hearing about this now?” She feels herself heating up with annoyance, anger, and something else that makes her want to pull her hair out. Ava doesn’t respond right away. She looks down at her now empty drink and watches as the ice cubes into water. 

“Well,” she starts, still not bothering to meet her eyes, “ever since he left, he’s been a bit of a taboo subject for you.” 

Her jaw tenses at that, and she sits back in her chair. That’s a bit of an overstatement. Y/n had reacted the way any person would have if put in her situation. She huffs with frustration. “So, what else is everyone hiding from me?”

“This isn’t an intervention, enough with the dramatics,” Ava says.

Y/n’s lips form into a straight line. She looks over the bar and tuts her tongue. “I need another drink,” she mutters. “Where the heck is Penny? She’s supposed to be working tonight.”

***

After Ava had started going to school in the city, her dad had decided to move into the London office full-time in order to be closer to both his girls. And lucky for Y/n, he’s just close enough to get information out of. She visits her dad during her lunch break because she needs answers.

“Dad, we need to talk,” she demands, bursting through his office door without any regard for just about anything. “Explain to me why...”

Matthew Y/l/n tilts his head at her with a raised brow, and the person sitting on the opposite side of his desk has an expression to match.

“Perfect,” she sneers. “We’re all here, then.”

She nearly loses it when Harry choke down a laugh while getting up and offering her his now empty seat. She takes it, but not before she glares at him and his stupid face. 

Her dad looks like he’s been caught in a crossfire, and he calculatingly smooths down his perfectly ironed tie. Harry takes the seat beside hers, except he makes a point to pull it a few inches away.

“So...” her dad practically sings. “Harry’s back!”

“I can see that.” From the corner of her eye, she sees a smirk. “Why are you even here?” 

Harry doesn’t seem offended despite the harsh nature of her tone. He chances a glance at her dad before turning to her. “Work,” is his first answer. He bounces one leg over the other and leans back against the back the seat. His expression softens. “But I guess I just really missed home.”

She thinks that’s bullshit. No decent person would leave everything behind without a second thought. “It took you ten years?”

“I did what I had to do,” he retorts.

“And that was to just disappear?” 

“This isn’t really the place nor time...”

“Then why bother coming back!"

That manages to crack Harry’s calm demeanor. He looks at her as if she had knocked the wind from his lungs. At this point her chest is heaving, as well. She forgets where they are and that her dad is a witness to this outburst. 

“I, uh,” they both turn to Matthew as he tries to find the words to appease the situation. “I was thinking we could all go out for dinner later?” He’s joking, right? He smiles as her, but with that ‘I’m your father and you don’t have much of a say in this’ look in his eyes. “How about you and Jared meet us around...say, seven? Hey, you know what? Bring Penelope, too!”

“Pen–”

Matthew swivels in his chair and practically hops to his feet. He leans down and kisses Y/n on the head. “Got to get to a meeting. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he’s gone. It leaves her alone with the person she wants nothing more than to get away from.

She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her. There are so many things she feels bombarding her all at once and there’s not one thing she can make sense of. Harry doesn’t say anything. Instead, he’s typing something on his phone. His lips are quirked up in an almost-grin, and she can’t help but feel miffed that he has the audacity to pull such a face in her presence when all she can do is glower. 

“I guess we’ll talk later?” he suddenly says. He slips his phone into his pants pocket. She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. Like her dad had done, he gets up and starts towards the door. But before she can even hear it graze against the carpeting, he mutters one last thing. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

Her dress squeaks loudly against the leather of her seat because she must have turned too quickly. Their eyes meet, his are difficult to read.

***

“...and I’ve been trying to look for a flat, but the boss works me too hard,” Harry smirks over at Matthew. Her dad lets out a hearty chuckle as he finishes off the last of dessert.

“Well, if you’re really that overworked, it’s not at all obvious,” Penny says with a saucy smile. “Definitely still a catch.” She touches his arm, and Y/n digs her nails into her palm because it makes her feel sick. It’s ridiculous that she’s so bothered by how quickly conversation had flowed between Harry and Penelope. 

Jared has an arm around the back of her chair. He looks bored with the conversation. She can’t tell if he’s irked at Harry (in the same way she is) or because he sees how much her dad likes him. That’s not to say that Jared isn’t well liked by Matthew. He did get his blessing to propose, after all. Yeah, they’ve been engaged for a while now. But so, what? Long engagements are common enough, and it does allow the two participants to fully get to know one another, as well as get close to the important people in their lives. Things just aren’t as smooth between her dad and Jared as she would like, but she supposes that’ll ease over with time. 

“I wouldn’t let my current appearance fool you,” Harry snorts.

“Is that a challenge?” Penny bats her lashes at him. 

Y/n can’t take it anymore. “So!” she interrupts, “Pen, didn’t you go out with that Vogue photographer last night?

Her friend gives her an odd look, but when she sees the rest of the table’s eyes on her, she waves it off. “Oh, yeah. But it didn’t end how I would’ve liked.” She gestures between her legs. “He had a little trouble getting it up.” 

“Penelope Swanton,” Matthew warns, as if she might give him a heart attack. “Parental unit sitting right here.”

Everyone shares a laugh except for Y/n and Jared. The latter just stares at the tablecloth with vague intensity. It’s strange that he hasn’t made a quip all night. He’s usually the one who talks the most...well, besides Penny. 

“Maybe pretty girls scare him,” Harry chuckles. “It happens to the best of us.”

A mischievous glint sparkles in Penny’s eyes. “Do I scare you, Harry?” 

“COFFEE!” Y/n all but screams. “We should order coffee!” She can’t just sit there and watch her friend make the same mistakes all over again. It would be a serious miscarriage of justice is she were to let that happen. 

But she can only stall for so long, and before she knows it, they’re all making their way out of the restaurant. It’s that awkward phase of standing outside and making small talk before someone has the balls to leave. Harry offers Penny a ride, and Y/n has to watch as they get into his car, laughing like he hadn’t broken her heart all those years ago. 

Jared still seems to be in a mood as well, but he plays it off and tells her he’s got a stomachache from the scallops he had as an appetizer. She rubs his back as they wait for the valet to bring their car around, glaring at Harry’s taillights before he turns onto the road. 

***

Y/n manages to not think about Harry for a few weeks. With the newest exhibit opening up, it’s kept her body and mind busy. By the time she gets home, she’s tired and all she wants is to put her feet up and watch reruns of Downton Abbey.

The doorbell rings, and she can’t help but groan because she was just getting comfortable. She looks through the peephole, then shakes her head knowingly. She pulls the door open.

“Don’t you have work?” she asks playfully, but she wishes she could take it back when she sees the broken look painted across Penny’s face. “Oh my god, are you alright?” She guides her friend into the apartment and sits her down on the couch.

Penny suddenly bursts into tears, her face falling into her hands as though she were hiding her shame. Not wanting to distress her further, Y/n gathers her in her arms and lets her cry it out. They’ve been through a lot together, and in all their years of friendship, she’s never seen her look so somber as she does now.  

She strokes her hair, whispering her reassurance even though she’s left in the dark. Penny breaks from her hug and wipes her eyes with her knuckles before looking at her with misty eyes. “I’m...” but she starts blubbering, and nothing coherent can be understood. Y/n waits patiently until she can speak. “I’m pregnant.” 

Y/n feels the color drain from her face while her head fills worry. She can’t decide who she’s worried more about, Penny or her baby. Penny is an adult is capable of making her own decisions, but she can also be reckless. She can barely pay her rent on time and her work schedule isn’t the best either. A baby would mean growing up, but Y/n knows that Penny’s still trying to figure things out. 

Then, the inevitable question bubbles in her throat. “How far along?” Penny sniffles. “About six weeks.”

Y/n feels awful that the first thing she feels is relief. Not Harry’s. “And the father?” 

“I can’t tell him,” Penny cries, she lays her head in Y/n’s lap. “He’s...he has a...” She doesn’t need to finish that sentence for Y/n to understand.

“Penny...” her tone is every bit of disappointed. 

***

She accompanied Penny to her first appointment to the OB-GYN this morning, and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat had been enough to drive both women to tears. It was beautiful, and the look in Penny’s eyes said all that they could. Sure, Y/n had worried about her when she first learned of the pregnancy, but that had immediately changed with just that one look. 

One day, Y/n hopes to have children of her own. She and Jared have opened up the topic a few times, but they never seem to be on the same page when it comes to starting a family. He claims it’s because his job’s hours are too crazy to juggle an infant. He’s the physical therapist for the National Football team, which means he has to go with them on away games. Deep down, however, Y/n thinks he’s afraid that he’ll end up the way his father did. She wants to tell him that’s ridiculous, but she always has to walk on eggshells about that. 

It’s okay, though. Until she and Jared can come to an agreement, she has no qualms over spoiling her new niece or nephew. Auntie Y/n. She likes the sound of that. So much, in fact, that she finds herself outside of a baby boutique on the high street. She wonders if Penny will be having a boy or a girl. 

“So cute!” she smiles to herself when she sees all the onesies on the mini mannequins. Would it be too early to plan Penny’s baby shower? She’s so lost in hypothetical party planning that she doesn’t notice see body before they collide, and warm liquid misses her shoes by mere centimeters. 

“I’m so sorry!” she rushes out an apology. There’s an unflattering brown stain on his otherwise perfect white button-up. She grabs for her wallet in her purse, hoping to at least pay for the damages, but stops when she gets a good look at him.

“You.” 

The world must really have it out for her. Harry looks down at his tainted shirt. “Nice seeing you too.” 

“Sorry,” she says again. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Head in the clouds?” he muses, shaking his sleeve of the last remaining drops of coffee.

She smiles tightly. “Just window shopping.”

He looks at the store in front of them, and his head snaps towards her. “Are you...?”

“No,” she replies immediately. “A friend of mine.”

For some reason, his shoulders seem to relax. He’s still incredibly handsome, though she never doubted that that would ever change. Under his wet shirt, she notices a sizeable few tattoos inked onto his chest. The sight intrigues her, and she has to stop herself from reaching out and tracing them with her finger. 

“Let me pay for your dry-cleaning,” she says, tearing her eyes away from his body. 

Harry shakes his head. “There’s no need, honestly. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” She really doesn’t want to be in his debt. “I’d feel better if I could make it up to you somehow.”

“No, really. It’s fine.” Why is he so stubborn?

“I insist.” 

He studies her for a moment. She imagines that she can see the gears turning as he thinks. 

“I’m actually on my way to a viewing, and well...I’m not really sure what to look for.”

She replays his words in her head. “So, you want me to...help you pick out an apartment?” That can’t be right.

“My car’s just over there,” he points with his chin. “What do you say?”

Alarms are sounding in her head, each one screaming a different command between her ears. A part of her is saying it’s a bad idea, that she should stand her ground and stay mad at him because of what he had done. On the other hand, the rest of her––the biggest part of her––wants to indulge in the feeling she has when she’s with him. It’s a crazy mix of fury and joy that isn’t entirely unbearable. 

“Fine,” she concedes, and she brushes past him and starts towards his car. “But only because I feel bad about the shirt.” She doesn’t dare look back. She slides into the passenger seat and buckles herself in. Her stomach is doing cartwheels beneath her high-waisted pants. 

Harry gets into the driver’s seat but doesn’t start the engine right away. He pulls his jacket off and places it neatly on the console. What he does next makes her regret getting out of bed this morning. Her mouth dries as he undoes every button of his shirt and reveals the tattoos she’d been fantasizing about earlier.

“Do-do you mind?” She feels her cheeks heat up, and she turns to the window in hopes to find a distraction. 

“Well, I’m not going to talk business looking like I’ve just been bullied by a barista.”

“That’s completely beside the point!” 

“Well, you can look now, Mother Teresa,” he says smugly. She hesitantly cranes her neck back. He’s now sporting a similar shirt, but this time, it’s dark grey. “See?”

She huffs, then mutters something under her breath. He smiles at her, like he’s just dying to tease her, but ultimately decides not to. She just glares straight ahead.

“Just drive the damn car.”

***

“And this unit is complete with its own balcony which overlooks the Thames,” Mariette, Harry’s real-estate agent says to the both of them. “It sets the mood nicely, don’t you think? And it happens to be very popular with our younger couples.” She sends them a not-so-subtle wink. 

Y/n feels herself flush, and she ducks into the kitchen and pretends to inspect the marble countertop. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry says. He doesn’t seem to be paying that much attention, or if he is, he’s really good at hiding his own embarrassment. Y/n wonders if he’s just humoring the over-zealous agent. After all, he was never the type to correct someone over silly little details. 

Mariette tells them to walk around, get a feel for the place, before excusing herself to make a phone call. Y/n follows Harry up the stairs where all the bedrooms are. There are three, and the master bedroom has its own ensuite toilet and bath.

“What do you think?” Harry asks her.

She glances at the view from the window. It’s beautiful, gorgeous even. The building itself is in one of the nicer parts of town, where the congested London traffic wouldn’t take away from its overall aura. She can already picture him spending the mornings on the balcony with a cup of tea and a book or passed out on a king-sized mattress in the bedroom after a long day of work.

“It’s nice,” she answers truthfully. “But it doesn’t matter what I think.”

Harry looks at her like she’s spewing nonsense. “I asked for your input, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. But at the end of the day, it’s your home. Not mine. You might not even stay around long enough to enjoy it.” The look on his face when she lets that last part slip out makes her wish she had just shut her mouth. She leaves him in the bedroom and heads into the hall. She needs to get away. Why couldn’t she have just given him a simple answer? Why does she continue to open up old wounds that she knows she’ll never be able to close? 

Before she can get far, however, his fingers curl around her shoulder. He swallows thickly behind her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Until now, he hadn’t apologized. She hadn’t expected him to, and now she isn’t sure how to take it. This should vindicate her, but all she wants to do is curl up and close herself off from the world, even for a little while.

She looks down to her feet, and as though on cue, her eyes begin to fill with tears. Her hand quickly lands on her mouth to muffle a sob.

He turns her towards him, holding her by the waist. In a split-second, she’s wrapped in his arms. She tries to pull away, but her body is too unwilling to lose his familiar warmth. 

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” she whimpers against his shirt.

His chest heaves. “Because if I did, I’d never be able to leave.” His words shake her.

She pulls away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “But what about me?” she asks. “Harry, you were my best friend, and you just treated me like I meant nothing to you.” It made her feel like nothing. Apparently, she’s an easy person to leave behind. First it was her mother, then the person she trusted most. She couldn’t tell you which had broken her more.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Scoffing, “A bit late for that, no?”

“Then let me make it up to you,” his plea is coated with desperation. Every bit of him shines with sincerity that she wishes she could ignore. His touch burns her through her clothes like blue flames. Body and mind are rekindling, and now that she remembers what it feels like to be close to him, she can’t see a version of herself that doesn’t want him back in her life.

“I don’t know if I believe in second chances,” she says softly. His grip on her loosens substantially, and there’s a sudden fear that he’ll let go. “But,” she continues, “you’ll be my first.”

It’s a bone-crushing, heart-enlarging hug, and it leaves her feeling happier than she’s felt in a long time.

***

They’re not the same two kids who would spend every waking moment together, but this is the closest they’ll ever get in adult life.

Harry visits her on her lunch breaks and lets her bounce marketing strategies off of him whilst they walk the gallery. Just like her dad, he has a well-versed business mind. It feels good to be able to talk to him again. It’s like a part of herself has risen after years of sleep and is finally seeing the light of day. Under the fancy suits and numerous tattoos, he’s still the same guy who can listen to her talk for hours without fail.

She’s even had him over for dinner at her and Jared’s place. At first, she was afraid that things would be tense between the two of them, after all, Jared hadn’t talked much during their dinner nearly a month back. To her delight, however, they seemed to pick up where they left off, and spent majority of the night talking sports and all that ‘man’ talk that she can never be bothered to understand. 

If a month ago she had felt empty, she can proudly admit that she’s starting to fill up.

***

When Penny announces that the baby is a girl, Y/n is probably the most excited. She visits the baby boutique she’d been browsing some days ago and buys a rubber duckie onesie with a matching headband, along with four other matching sets.

“You really shouldn’t have to go through all the trouble,” Penny scolds her.

Y/n waves her off. There shouldn’t be any of that nonsense. She likes being able to spoil her best friend’s future child. “I want to. Just humor me, okay? I’m aiming for Auntie of the Year.” She lays all the rest of the outfits on Penny’s sofa.

“It’s true,” Harry adds. “She’s already had the bib made.” Y/n flips him off but is far too delighted by all the pretty patterns to come up with a proper retort. Rather, she tries to sweep Penny into conversation about a real baby shower (and not just the one she’d planned in her head), discussing potential guests and a wish list that she should start setting up on Amazon.

Jared and Penny give each other a look, and the way the former’s jaw tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry but completely goes over Y/n’s head.  

***

“Why don’t you put any of your own work on display?” Harry asks her one day.

“Honestly?” she sighs, “I haven’t actually made anything in...well, almost a decade.”

His jaw drops. “I don’t think I heard you right, a decade?” 

The same amount of time you’ve been gone, she thinks to herself. Of course, now that they’re back to being friends, she would never say it out loud. 

***

Nan had called her up and asked if she and Ava would drive up to Holmes Chapel and help her sort out all the things to donate. They try to visit their grandparents every few months because they are getting to the age where they won’t be around for long. Although, Nan will tell anyone with ears that she’s stronger than she was in her twenties due to her weekly spin classes at the community center. Meanwhile, Gramps is still the same as ever. He still sits in front of the TV and watches highlights of games he’s got recorded on the DV-R, and accidentally knocks over Nan’s petunia’s when he backs the car out of the garage. 

Her childhood bedroom is also how she had left it. Sure, her teenage years had called for a bit of renovation, but underneath posters of her favorite actors and boy bands are the youthful stickers Nan had put up when they had first arrived. 

She rummages through her closet, throwing old clothes in good condition into her donation basket. There are even some that were never worn, and she debates whether she’d be able to use any of it, but ultimately decides against it.  

The top shelf is full of empty shoe boxes and other things she had carelessly thrown up there. Her old sketchbook falls open, face down, at her feet. 

She picks it up and is greeted by the same sketch that had won her first prize in the art show all those years ago when she was fifteen. Her fingers graze over the pencil lines, and it’s like being reacquainted with an old friend. She had spent months on this one drawing, and it had turned out to be her greatest piece to date (the actual painting is still being preserved at the school).

“You know, I always thought that boy looked like Anne’s boy,” Nan says nonchalantly. Y/n hadn’t even heard her come in. 

“What?” Y/n stares intently at the paper. “You think so?”

Ava practically skips in. “Oh, gossiping, are we?” She sounds just like Nan. Y/n can’t help the roll of her eyes. 

“I was just telling your sister about how that painting of hers up at the school looks a lot like Harry.”

“Is it not supposed to?” Ava seems genuinely confused. 

“I mean...it wasn’t actually based on anyone in particular,” Y/n says, feeling the need to defend herself. “It was just...something I envisioned in my head.” She turns back to her closet, leaving Nan and Ava to carry on their conversation on her bed. 

Reaching her arm up high, she feels around the shelf until she pokes something soft. When she brings it down, she can’t help but grin. Freddo. She had almost forgotten about him. After Harry had left, she had gone on a bit of a rampage, and any reminder of him had fallen victim to the trash or banishment to the top shelf.

Nan must notice her smile because she comes up and cradles her from behind and rests her chin on her shoulder. “It’s funny,” she says, and Y/n looks back at her expectantly. “I also thought that you two would end up together, but I guess I was off by a bit, huh?” She kisses Y/n on the cheek and calls for Ava to follow her downstairs.

Y/n stares at the toy as though it held some sort of secret.

***

She’s lucky she’s home by herself––Jared is off at the pub for his and Sid’s weekly meet-up––because now she has time to unwind and be as antisocial as she wants. Work had been stressful, mostly because the exhibit is set to open next week. And really, all she wants is to be under her favorite blanket with a cup of hot chocolate and just be dead to the world.

Even though she thinks that, however, she can’t help but tap on her phone screen every few minutes. Sure, she likes the time alone, but she also likes being needed. Ava says it’s a control thing, but she really just prefers to be in the know. Lately, Penny’s been spamming her with messages and phone calls about the baby or sometimes it’ll be for a little reassurance. Of course, she’s more than happy to support her. It’s brave of Penny to tackle this alone. The baby’s father is completely out of bounds, so she’s told, and Penny says she’d rather her baby grow up with just a mother than in some dysfunctional setup.

Speaking of dysfunction, she hasn’t been able to properly think straight ever since her visit with Nan. What the elderly woman had told her hadn’t exactly shocked her, per say, but it did have her rethink some of the interactions between her and Harry. It’s ridiculous, really. They’d been best friends since she was eight and he was nine. They know each other’s ins and outs, likes and dislikes, what makes the other laugh and cry. They’re simply comfortable. 

Okay. Maybe there had been times where she thought that the possibility of something more was on the table, but that quickly proved to be all in her imagination. She had her boyfriends and he had his girlfriends. She fell in love with his cousin, and he dated her other best friend. Then he left town.

Then he left.

***

Abandoning her original plans for the night, Y/n finds herself at his door. 

“Hey,” he greets her, but his warm smile falters when he takes note of her appearance. “What’s with the look? Are you okay?” She doesn’t answer, she’s too taken by the image of him and the way her heart feels like it might burst from her chest to comprise a full sentence. He doesn’t push her, though. He fishes into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a shapely object wrapped in purple foil. “I-uh, I don’t eat chocolate that much anymore, but they don’t have these in America, so I’ve been snacking on a few of these a week.” It lands itself in her hand. “Just like when we were kids, right?”

It’s a Freddo. A fucking Freddo. Her fingers curl around it.

“You once asked me if I thought that things should’ve been different,” she says. “What did you mean by that?”

Harry doesn’t answer. She tries again.

“Why did you leave, Harry?"

“It’s been so long, I don’t even remember.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She takes one step closer. He evades her eyes, like he’s afraid they’ll speak on their own. Her stomach tightens because it’s all starting to make sense. His words. That embrace. These feelings that have always existed between them. “You left because of me.”

It’s not a question, but a sure statement. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. She slides a hand up to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. When he finally does, she’s sees it. And her gut says it’s not the first time. 

It’s heartache. 

She knows because she sees it every time she looks in the mirror. It’s taken her this long to realize it. That hollow feeling that’s been consuming her, it disappeared the day Harry Styles walked back into her life. Once the anger over what he’d done had subsided, she’s felt nothing but joy since. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She wants to scream. 

“You made him happy,” is all he says, almost regretfully. “I couldn’t take that away from him.”

“So, you didn’t even consider how I felt? Harry, I would’ve...would’ve–”

“And that’s why I had to leave!” He wipes both hands down his face in frustration. “We would’ve ended up hurting two people we cared too much about.”

“You don’t know that–”

“If I had tried to kiss you that night, would you have let me?” His gaze bores into her. 

Yes. The voice within her screams it over and over. He must already know her answer because he just smiles sadly at the floor. This is why he had done it. He knew that if he had stayed any longer, it would have only been a matter of time before they gave into each other. 

It makes her sick. 

“I figured if I just took myself out the equation, the rest of you would be spared the heartbreak.” He sighs. “And it worked. You and Jared are about to start a life together, Penny’s got her baby. You’re happy.”

She wants to counter him, but she can’t find the strength. “What about you?” she whispers instead.

He tilts his head to the side. “I came back to prove to myself that I could be happy for you.” His jaw slackens, and he doesn’t continue.

She’s toe to toe with him. “And are you?”

The next thing she knows, her back is against the wall, and her fingers are tangled in his hair. His lips feed her, makes her blood come alive like she’s never lived until now. She kisses him with everything she has. Every drop of anger and every ounce of emotion that burns through her veins. His hands keep her body as close to his as possible, yet, they feel so gentle as they caress her curves like she’s made of glass. It feels so right.

And it shouldn’t. 

Just as sudden as it had started, she pushes him away. He doesn’t fight her. Without another word, she leaves his apartment.

*** When she makes it home, Jared is about to get ready for bed. She drops her clothes to the floor, and his soon follow. They fall onto the bed, his teeth gnawing down her jaw while his hand slides down to cup her heat. He asks her if she’s ready once his member is nudged against her opening. She nods, and he pushes into her, just as he’s done many times before.

She tries her best to focus on how good this should feel to have him inside of her, but the more he moves, the more she feels like this is all a mistake. It feels all too similar to when she had given him her virginity. It happened the night after Harry had skipped town. She was upset and wanted to feel something aside from the pain he had caused her. Jared had been there, and things had soon escalated. But it didn’t feel right. Her heart wasn’t in it, and so her body couldn’t give itself the relief it had been searching for.

It hasn’t felt like that since, or maybe she had gotten better at hiding it, just as she’s done with everything else. She had hoped that sex with Jared would put her mind and her heart back into perspective, but instead, she feels even more helpless.

One kiss with Harry had meant more to her than any of this. It fills her with shame because shouldn’t want to be with anyone except Jared, especially when all he’s ever done is love her. 

She doesn’t realize it’s over until he rolls off her with a content sigh, then stumbles into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him, and it’s then she feels the tears start to fill the rim of her eyes. Her thighs clasp together as her humiliation fully sets in. She turns on her side and covers her naked body with the blanket that had been pushed to the foot of the bed. Jared returns minutes later, mumbling a goodnight. If he has something else to say, he doesn’t. It takes to the count of five for him to drift to sleep. 

***

“I need to cancel the engagement,” she says. Ava gives her a circumspect shrug of the shoulders, like she’s trying not to say the wrong thing. Y/n turns to her, hands twiddling the fingers in her lap from stress. “What do you think I should do?”

Ava looks at her, the pity is obvious on her face. “I don’t know, sis.” She rubs her back. “Are you going to tell Jared about you and Harry?”

“I have to.”

***

She doesn’t have the opportunity to talk to Jared until the night of the exhibit opening since he’d been in Spain on a team trip. It’s eating her up, how she hasn’t told him yet, but at least by the end of today she’ll no longer be holding on to something so big. He had promised to come straight to the gallery once he landed back at Heathrow. His flight was set to get in two hours ago, so it’s only a matter of time now. 

More and more people are starting to fill the floor. Most are patrons whom she sees frequently at these events, but there are some new faces mixed in the crowd. She’s lucky that Ava and her grandparents are here to support her, especially when she’ll probably need them afterwards. 

“Hey, don’t look so nervous,” Nan tells her. “The place looks great. You know, I overheard that guy in the red Chanel that he’s interested in buying.” Bless her, Y/n thinks. Nan’s always had a way of diffusing the tension, even when she isn’t aware of it. 

“I’m happy you guys are here,” Y/n says, and she brings her friend in for a hug. 

Nan gives her a confused smile. “Of course, we’re here. We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she proudly declares, and she elbows Gramps in the ribs when he doesn’t contribute. “Honestly, try to look a little alive.”

“I put on a tie, didn’t I?” Gramps rolls his eyes, but then he sends Y/n a wink.  

“Where’s Penelope this evening?” Nan asks, scanning the room, brows furrowing. Y/n feels a sweat break out. She just hopes that Penny will understand when she finds out about her feelings for her ex-boyfriend. It’s been years, sure, but there has to be some kind of friendship code that prohibits this sort of thing. “And where’s that fiancé of yours? He should be here with you.”

“Probably just got stuck in traffic,” Y/n says, but honestly, she’s reveling the extra time she has to prepare.

Nan hooks arms with Ava and Gramps, and they walk the floor while Y/n greets a few of her guests. Her dad is one of them, no surprise there. He pecks her on the side of the head and lets out a perplexed sound as he gazes at all the art. 

“I feel like I should understand this kind of thing by now,” he muses, gesturing to the portrait of naked man made from duct tape and spoons. “Anything after 2003 is lost to me. I just don’t get it.”

“Are you proud of me?” Y/n shocks herself with the question.

Matthew looks stunned himself. “Why would you ask something like that? You know that I am.” He pulls her aside, so they have a little more privacy. “Sweetheart, is everything okay?” There’s worry in his eyes. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she appeases, “I just wanted to hear it.” Her dad doesn’t respond but hugs her tight. They stay like that for a moment, she’s always felt safe in his arms, until she feels them loosen around her. She looks up at him, his look somewhere else. When she follows it, her heart skips a beat.

“Harry!” Matthew takes his hand and shakes it. “I haven’t seen you in a full two hours!” 

The younger man lets out a slight chuckle. “It’s been unbearable. I just can’t keep away.” He turns to her. “Congratulations.” 

A nod is all she can afford. 

Matthew looks between the two of them, and their situation feels almost familiar. He coughs into his hand and excuses himself as he chases a waiter down the west wing. 

“Can we talk?” Harry asks her. 

She purses her lips to the side. There’s so much she wants to say to him, but she’s afraid of what she might do. 

Against her better judgement, she leads him into her office. She leaves the door open behind her in the off chance that things intensify. She doesn’t need any more guilt on her plate. (But she wishes he wasn’t wearing such a properly fit suit. It’s far too distracting for the seriousness of the situation.)

Leaning against her desk, arms crossed over her chest, she waits for him to speak. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It was both our doing,” she stresses. If you asked her who had kissed who first, she wouldn’t be able to tell you. “We just...got caught up in the moment.” I let my heart dictate my actions.

He looks hurt by her words but doesn’t press her on it. “I should’ve stopped it. I always wondered what it would feel like to kiss you, and when it happened, I...” He shakes his head, and she’s thankful that he’ll never finish that sentence. She’s already heard it in her mind. Hearing out loud would cause both of them too much agony.

“I know,” she rasps. “I can’t stand here and say that I didn’t want it, but–”

“you don’t want to hurt him.” She smiles appreciatively, though, sadly. In another life, maybe they would have a chance. This one doesn’t have a place for them. Even if she ends things with Jared, it doesn’t erase the fact that they’re family. She could never start anything with Harry without him getting hurt. It’s a matter of acceptance now. 

This must have been what Harry had been feeling when he had left. As much as it hurts to remember, she thinks she at least understands it better. 

“I need air,” she says, not wanting to entertain those thoughts further, “join me?” She grabs her phone from her desk. It’s getting late, and she’s starting to worry about Jared. 

They leave her office and start towards the back door that some of her staff use when they want a smoke. She usually avoids it for that reason, but it was getting too stuffy in there. Her lungs will forgive her if she takes this one moment to herself. Her screen unlocks, and just as she’s about to press on her fiancé’s name, Harry pushes the door open and she looks up as the evening breeze brushes her face and then...

“What the hell is this?” She drops her phone to the ground. 

Jared and Penny pull away from each other, but the space between them is nearly nonexistent. The latter meets her with scared eyes that soon begin to fill up. One hand covers her mouth as she chokes on a sob or maybe even fear, while the other clasps over her swollen belly. Y/n’s eyes drift down to it. It clicks. 

“Y/n...” Jared starts, he’s breathing heavily. “Let me–”

“That’s why you couldn’t tell me his name,” she says shakily. It’s directed at Penelope. “You couldn’t tell me because it was him.” The night Penelope had come over unannounced after her alleged date cancellation at the same time Jared had cancelled his own plans. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing.” And that’s exactly what she had done, and right under her nose. They’d have been sneaking around behind her back for months.

“We d-didn’t mean for it to get this far...” Penny tries to explain, she steps out from behind Jared’s shadow. The usually confident blonde has lost several inches of height. She says something else, but it’s like Y/n’s just drowned out all the noise. Her eyes still haven’t left Penelope’s stomach. 

She wants to hate her. She should hate her. But she’s just an innocent victim caught in her parents’ web of lies. Then she grits her teeth at Jared. How far he’s fallen from the pedestal she’d put him on. Now she’s certain that she had inflated his image in her spiraling guilt for having feelings for another man. To think that only minutes ago she was about to plead for his forgiveness for kissing Harry, when all this time he’d been fucking her closest friend. 

“Jared,” his name weighs like venom on her tongue, “I want you out of the apartment by tonight.”

She just runs. Down the alleyway, ignoring all the calls of her name behind her. Harry’s voice is by far the loudest. There’s a thud, followed by a scream. However tempted she is to look back, her legs have developed a mind of their own and lead her towards the busy sidewalk. The bright streetlights burn her eyes, but she doesn’t stop.

She keeps going until she finds the first empty cab. Getting in without a second to hesitate, she closes the door and tells the man behind the wheel to just go. 

“Where to?” he asks her. Her first instinct is to go home and lock herself in her room, but she realizes that she’ll probably have to confront Jared again, and that’s not going to happen. Her second and third options are still at the gallery, completely oblivious to all the night’s revelations. There’s just one other person on that list, so Y/n gives the driver the address. 

***

It takes less than twenty minutes for her to end up in front of a building with bright blue doors and window panels to match. She climbs the steps, one wobbly footstep at a time, but only hesitating once. Her knuckles curl at her sides, until lifting them up to knock against the heavy wood. Light from inside peeks through the curtains.

A woman appears in the open threshold, that faint light from inside creating a halo around her figure. She looks unreal, like something straight out of a storybook. Her ethereal face just as kind as Y/n remembers. It’s the most immaculate she’s ever been. 

Y/n feels herself lose the battle with the emotions she had managed to keep on leash from just one look from her. 

With a whimper, her mouth struggle with the words. “Hi, Mum.”

***

Grace sets her up in the guest room and supplies her with a cup of tea and biscuits. As she’s setting it down on the bedside table, Y/n can’t help but take note of her appearance. It’s been nearly twenty years since she had last seen her mother, but why is that she’s never looked younger? Her eyes no longer have the eternal vacancy that had highlighted her once slack expression. 

She looks happy. 

“Thank god I did the shopping earlier this week, huh?” Grace muses, opening up a new pack of biscuits. Each word to leave her lips feels smooth against her ears. “I’ve developed a bit of a sweet tooth in my old age.” Y/n doesn’t know if she appreciates her efforts to make conversation, but it does give her time to think about what exactly she wants to say. 

They drink their tea in hushed sips, like they’re afraid that any loud slurping might cause some offence. Y/n stares down into the contents of her cup, annoyed that it’s the perfect color. A part of her had wished that she could find something to fault her with. 

“So,” Grace hums, tapping melodically on the porcelain in her hands. “You want to tell me why you’re here?”

Y/n barely lifts her head as her hands strangle the air with frustrated rigidness. “I’ve spent my entire life trying not to become you.” From her decision to follow her dad’s wishes, to keeping appearances for a relationship that she now knows was destined for destruction, she’d made every choice for everyone else. 

Grace doesn’t respond, but her mouth parts with a staggered breath. 

“I wanted to believe that I was happy. I wanted to do what you never did because I didn’t want to hurt the people I was supposed to love.” All the years she’d never confronted these feelings have ultimately resulted to this. “You broke us,” she says, staring her directly in the eyes. “You ruined every image I had of love.” The anxiousness that had put her through hell had to come from this. The truth is, she couldn’t break it off with Jared because she didn’t want to hurt him in the same way that her mother had hurt her dad. That’s it. She ignored every gut feeling that told her it wasn’t right because of the bitterness she felt towards her mother.   

“The choices we make aren’t genetic,” Grace says softly.

“Aren’t they, though?” she shrieks. She bounces to her feet and paces in front of the bed. “Penelope’s mother was the other woman, and now Penelope is pregnant with my fiancé’s baby! You ran away from your family because you couldn’t forget him.” 

By that, she means her mother’s new husband, the one she had left them for. It had been during her last year at university that Y/n had discovered the truth. He had been her professor for her art history class. She recognized him from a picture she had once seen in her mother’s jewelry box. She just hadn’t put two and two together until then. “And I...I can’t forget the person I’ve loved since I was eight. What makes us different, Mum?”

Grace holds her chin close to her body. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “But tell me this. Why haven’t you planned your wedding?”

This causes Y/n’s pacing to cease. She stands at her mother’s knees, blinking rapidly. “How would you know anything that goes on with me?”

Her mother stands up as well. They’re about the same height.  

“I know it’ll make never make up for what I did but believe me. I’ve never stopped trying to be in your lives...even if it was from afar.” Her hand is shaking as she reaches up to cup Y/n’s cheek so she can wipe away her tears. “I was there when you won all your art shows back in school. I was there when you graduated university.” She’s crying her own tears now. “And I was excited for you when you got engaged three years ago.” 

Y/n doesn’t let herself give in. She pulls away. “It was supposed to be a long engagement.”

“Is that what you keep telling yourself?” Grace looks at her pointedly. Y/n’s bottom lip starts to quiver. Her mother grasps her by the shoulders. “Maybe that’s what makes you different from me. You stopped pretending before it was too late, you just hadn’t realized it.”

“Is that supposed to make me a good person?” Y/n challenges. 

“No,” Grace answers honestly, but she sighs with a small smile. “But it makes you a better person than me.”

***

She doesn’t recall ever falling asleep, but she can still feel her mother’s hand stroking her hair as she had laid her head on the pillow. The morning sun shines through the curtains of the unfamiliar room and greet her with slithers of light by her feet. Waking up here feels strange, but she’s experienced comfort that she hasn’t felt in so long.

The rug-lined steps make little to no sound as she makes her way downstairs. From the bottom, she can hear two voices talking in hushed tones from the kitchen. One is unmistakably her mothers, while the other is deep and manly. She isn’t sure how to make approach them, suddenly feeling self-conscious for having intruded. But soon enough, her mum catches sight of her and invites her to take the stool beside her. Y/n walks in, passing her mother’s husband, who smiles kindly at her. She had liked him as a professor before she had found about his private life.

“Good morning,” Grace says. “Lawrence’s just been to the bakery.” She pushes a box full of a variety of goodies. “Eat as much as you want.”

Y/n picks up a croissant and gingerly pulls it apart. She avoids how her mother and her husband gage in her every movement. 

“Did you sleep well?” It’s Lawrence who asks her. She nods. Lawrence and her mother share a look, and through their eyes they seem to converse. It reminds her a lot of how she and Harry had always been able to tell what the other was thinking without having to verbalize. Lawrence finishes up his cup of coffee, then circles around the island and kisses his wife on the cheek. “I’m just going to pop to the store,” he says. She catches the back of his head before he disappears. 

“I thought you said you had just done the shopping?” Y/n asks her mother. The older woman shrugs, continuing to pick at her breakfast. Oh. She sees that there’s apparently more to talk about. Y/n does in fact have a few more questions she wants to ask, if anything more than to talk to someone who knows what she’s going through. She takes a deep breath. “Are you happy?” The words feel awkward as they leave her mouth. Grace looks at her, questioningly. She nods towards the door. “With him?”

“Yes.” 

Y/n’s heart breaks for her father. 

“He’s my best friend,” Grace says dreamily. “I’ve known him all my life. Loved him about the same.” Y/n feels goosebumps startle her skin.

“So,” Y/n treads cautiously, “was he worth it?”

“There are things that I would have done differently when it came to you and your sister, given the chance,” her mother sighs, but when she looks at her with those eyes that are so full of light and what she guesses must only be love, Y/n gets it. “But otherwise I’d choose him all over again.”

***

She knocks impulsively on his front door, not caring if his new neighbors think she’s out of her mind insane. Her limbs are tight with anticipation, especially when she hears the scuffle of feet against well-polished hardwood. Harry stands in the open doorway dressed in a white t-shirt and black joggers, and an adorably confused look floating in his sleepy eyes. But when he registers her before him, it’s like he’d been hit by lightning and suddenly jolted awake.

“Has anything changed?” she asks, almost pleadingly. He just stares at her, frustrating her already exhausted nerves. She hadn’t come all this way after a rollercoaster of a night to not get an answer. “Am I...Am I still all that’s in...” And rests her hand where his heart is.

Her own heart leaps in her chest when his dimples emerge from his cheeks. He lays his own hand over hers, stepping towards her but also pulling her incredibly close. “It’s always been you.” 

And no words have ever made her cry out of shear joy. She laughs, or maybe it’s more of a wet giggle, before throwing her arms around his neck and bringing him in for a scorching kiss. Unlike their first kiss, this one is filled solely with everything they hadn’t allowed themselves to feel. He nips on her bottom lip, and her mouth parts and welcomes his tongue to explore every unchartered inch. He grasps her both her thighs and carries her to his bedroom. 

She can’t believe she’s gone this long without knowing his touch. Every movement of against her skin, and every exploration of forbidden pleasure makes her stomach coil and beg for more. He lays her down on his bed, his body hovering over hers like he’s afraid she might slip away. 

He leans in a little lower, and she gasps when she feels him hard against her hip. “We don’t have to do anything,” he gulps, pressing his forehead to hers. “You’ve been through a lot, and I just want you to know that–” but he doesn’t get to finish because she shuts him up with the fire in her eyes. She loves him for everything he is, even when he’s being selfless to a fault. 

“We’ve waited too long for this,” she breathes against his lips. “Let’s choose us.” 

A low throaty moan surges from of her as he grinds himself against her, sending currents of electrifying energy down to her aching entrance. Her mind becomes cloudier with his every caress. His hot breath against her longing flesh only intensifies her need.

“Please,” she begs, fingers working on the hem of his shirt. “I want you. God, please I want to feel you.” 

He chuckles softly as she whines, pecking her again. “Patience, love,” he teases. His lips glide down to her ear, his breath sending shivers down her inflamed body. “Show me where you want me.” 

Taking reign of his hand and guiding down the front of her front, she smirks at him. His pants become unbelievably tight as she lets him linger over her chest, her head falling back when the warmth of his hand flicks over her pebbled nipple. “You want me between your pretty little tits? Is that what my girl wants?” His girl. Nothing in this moment could sound so perfect than the words to have just left his lips. It’s enough for her to want to bring him in for another impassioned kiss, but she restrains, shaking her head mischievously as he squeezes gently on her breast. She leads him further down, his palm sliding down her abdomen. 

“Here.” She slots her fingers through the spaces between his and their tips graze the base of her dress, toying with the flimsy material until finally slipping beneath. He groans as his skin comes into contact with her pussy emanating all that delicious heat.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” She rubs against him just enough for him to feel her center through her panties, and he swears to her that he might come then and there. Wasting no time, she pulls his shirt over her head, only breaking their kiss to appreciate all the tattoos on his sculpted chest. When she’d seen them before, it had only been for a quick few seconds, and she’d been far too flustered to take anything more than a peek. But now she can’t help herself, and she lets her fingers dance across the ink, the point of her nails tracing over the edge of every design. She spends the most time on the moth, or maybe it’s a butterfly, she couldn’t say. 

All she knows is that something about it makes her feel at peace, like she’ll always be safe as long as he's there beside her. She tears her eyes away from his chest to find him looking at her as though she were everything that’s right with the world. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, and she just beams, eyes looking back at him with such sincerity. 

He kisses the side of her mouth before descending along her body He takes his time, his lips pressing over every possible inch of her, leaving no surface neglected. Where his hands had been prior, he takes an erect mound in his mouth, tongue swirling around in through its covering. Each touch leaves her breathless, her back arching in intense anticipation the further down he goes. When his nose nudges at the bottom of her skirt, she lets out another frustrated whine, and he chuckles softly at how her abdomen sucks in as the stubble on his chin prickles goosebumps across her skin. 

“Please, just. . .” and the final remains of her inhibitions drain from the tips of her fingers and toes. “I want your cock inside me.” 

“Christ, you’ve got a filthy mouth.” And he tears her dress from her body and pulls her panties down her silky legs, leaving her completely bare before his eyes. From a pale green, the color of his irises darkens with a fierce and pounding desire. It sends vibrations down to her pussy and all she wants is for him to bury his face in her dripping arousal. She bites harshly on her lip once he licks between her slick folds. “So sweet,” he mutters, his lips slipping through the barriers to find her sensitive little nub. “I could just stay here forever.”

“Harry. . .” she gasps, fisting the sheets as her hips lift off the mattress. “It feels so good.” Her legs hang over his shoulders as he encourages her to ride his face until she’s begging to release all over his tongue. “Oh god, don’t stop.” 

One of his long fingers that had been drawing small little circles on the inner part of her thigh smooths over her damp skin until it forges its way into her glistening heat. The other hand moves down his own figure, undoing the button of his jeans and sliding past the waistband of his boxers. 

As the knot in her stomach twists with tremendous force, it pushes her closer and closer to the edge. He inserts another finger, the two digits piston in and out of her, working harmoniously with his skilled mouth. She screams out, her back arching to an almost impossible degree. It all becomes too much for her, bursts of light flashing behind her eyelids.  

“I’m gonna come,” she moans, cheek pressed deep into the pillow, eyes shut tightly to welcome the stars as she lets go with cacophonous convulsions. 

“That’s my good girl, come all over my tongue. That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

He climbs back up her body, a content smile awaiting him when their faces become level with each other. Another exchange of ardent kisses, and she feels herself tingle at the taste of her on his lips. Even after her orgasm, she already craves for another, but this time she wants nothing more but to feel him stuffed inside of her. She wraps a leg around his hip, the edge of her foot pressed against the side of his ass as she presses her core into his bulge. 

“I need to be inside of you.” He leaps off the bed to push off the last pieces of constrictive clothing. His cock springs free, flushed red at the tip and just desperate for her amorous touch. 

And he’s big, she had always had an inkling, but to see it in the flesh is a whole new sensation quivering between her thighs. “It’s so big,” her thoughts become vocalized. 

With his knees back onto the bed, she grabs his shoulders and pulls him down lower, his elbows planking on either side of her. “Feel how hard I am for you?” He hisses as her warm hand wraps around him, her thumb swiping along a dribble of precum. She lathers him in his own arousal. “Think you can handle my cock?” 

She’s completely in awe, and her mind runs untamed with fantasies of how it would feel hitting that special spot deep in her cunt, every rigid vein carving its impression in her walls. “You know I can,” she dares him. 

“Fuck.” He kisses her deeply, his hand taking ahold of his cock and glazing it with the remnants of her last climax and gliding just between her wet folds.  “One last time–” he swallows hard as he pulls away from his lips, “–are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I...”

Their eyes meet, a wordless understanding worth more than any spoken language as she cups his cheeks. 

The entire length of him slides into her tight hole until he bottoms out, his balls pressing against her taut ass. She feels undeniably full, never having experienced such exhilaration in her life as Harry’s bare cock stretches her out completely. 

“Just slid right in,” he grunts, dropping his face into the crook of her neck. He bites down and sucks greedily on the spot until he’s made his mark. She gasps in mild pain, but it feels too good to know that she can finally be his. He pulls all the way out, before slamming back in with ease, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as her walls flutter around him. “It feels like you were made for me” She feels marvelously tight, squeezing him for all he’s worth. All she can do is nod, her voice caught in her throat as his thrusts become harder and faster.  “It’s all mine now, your pussy, your lips. You’re all mine.” 

“I’m yours, all yours, Harry.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders. “God, your big cock feels so good in my tight pussy.” Nails dig into his back as they run down and carve crescents into his flexed and sweaty muscles. 

They move flawlessly in sync as she rises up to greet his every thrust with just as much excitement and fervor. Both their bodies are on fire, a pressure building up at their very core and threatening to unravel at any moment. His balls tighten, and he knows he won’t last for much longer. He looks down between them, his cock completely soaked with her with the most sinful sounds resonating whenever he pushes in and out of her delightful heat. “I love you,” he breathes into her ear, his fingers indenting into the plush of her hips. He loses any sense of rhythm he might have started out with, his movements becoming more and more urgent as he chases after his high. 

“I love you.” Her second orgasm fast approaches, she feels it thrill every one of her nerves as though currents of electricity were running through her veins. She’s so close, and her hand slips between their sweaty chests to rub desperately on her clit. Her head is spinning with an aspiration to reach the brink of ecstasy. 

“Come all over my cock,” he pleads as he pushes into her with incredible force. “Want to feel you come around me.”

And that’s it for her. A wave of pleasure crashes over her and she cries out with a high-pitched moan. Her legs hugging him so tightly that he barely manages to move. She rides it out, rolling her hips to feel him continuously poke that special spot. Soon enough, her mind is on a cloud, the rest of her body soaking up the bliss of the moment.

His movements only become more erratic, and the breath leaves her body once he releases inside of her. Hot white ribbons shoot out and paint her walls with the image of a sensational love. It warms her center, her lips turning up in a lazy smile as he remains within her even after the final drop has left his tip. Once they’re heaving chests calm to a natural pace, he collapses on top of her, arms willing their way between her and the mattress to gather her into a tender embrace. She scratches the back of his head and sighs contently.  

“To think we could’ve been doing that for,” and she counts the years on each one of her fingers.

Harry chuckles in between her breasts, then reaches up and plants a quick but sweet kiss to her lips. “How long are you going to be holding onto that one?” She pretends to think, her mouth quirking to the side as her brows furrow in contemplation. “Until we make up for all that wasted time.” 

***

“I got you something.” She looks up at him, her body still wrapped in his arms as they lay naked in his bed. Memories of what feels like another life flip through her head.

“Is this what déjà vu feels like?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Do you want it or not?” 

Smiling, she kisses enthusiastically and nods her head. He gets up, and she has to stop herself from frowning when they lose all contact. She sinks into the sheets and waits impatiently for him to come back. Listening to him rummage through his closet, then to the growling of her tummy–and she makes a quick mental note to ask him to order something for them in a while––she tries to relive every detail from the last few hours in her head. She didn’t know that sex was supposed to feel so good.

“You told me that you hadn’t drawn in almost ten years,” he states, making his way back to the bed, but this time, with a bag clutched in his hands. He places it in her lap, then slips between her and the headboard, arms going back to their initial position. “Maybe it’s time you started back up.”

Y/n opens the enclosed wrappings. Inside the bag is a new sketchbook and a carton of 9H pencils. She carefully grazes her fingers above them. There’s a feeling in her chest, like she’s just been reunited with an old friend. 

“But what would I even draw?” She’d lost all sight of that part of her life, and it seems unlikely that those creative juices will just come trickling back to her now. 

Harry kisses the side of her head, and she leans into him easily.

“Whatever inspires you.” 

It’s just that easy. She closes her eyes and reflects on what has always made her feel any bit positive. Ava and her bluntness; her dad and his sense of duty to his family; Nan and Gramps and their playful bickering; Nan and her proclivity for gossip; Gramps and his hatred for ties. All of them had been a comfort to her, even when she hadn’t realized it. They were part of what had kept her afloat.

Feeling Harry’s heartbeat press up against her back, she knows that she’ll never have to worry about drowning. She opens her sketchbook to its first clean page and lets herself be happy. 

***

“Thanks for meeting us here,” Jared says, offering her a modest grin. “I would’ve understood if you didn’t want to.” Penny nods beside him. Jared had texted her and asked if she would meet them for lunch, so that they could talk. At first, Y/n didn’t think that necessary. What was the point when it was all out in the open now? But with some convincing from Harry, she realized that she had to confront this.

“There’s no moving on if we don’t talk about it.” Y/n takes the seat across from Penny. She looks at the girl she’d consider a sister, studying her rounded and healthier features. Pregnancy looks good on her. “You look good.” 

Penny smiles thankfully. “So do you.”

They talk about everything, even the stuff that feels like it should hurt. But it doesn’t. Clarity exists where it hadn’t before. She tells them that about Harry, and apparently it isn’t much of a shock to anyone, which shocks her. Jared then admits to having had all these doubts about their relationship but had stuck through it because of his own insecurities. That had had hit close to home for Y/n. It’s somewhat of a relief that she hadn’t been the only one who felt that what they had was temperamental. 

“You were there for me when I was at my worst, and for that, I’ll always love you,” Jared sighs, reaching across the table and taking her hand. “But...”

“That’s all we were meant to be.”

He nods sadly, pulling back. His other arm is around Penny’s chair, and Y/n can see his fingers playing with the ends of her ponytail. 

Penny must notice this, and she quickly shrugs him away. “Sorry,” she mutters.  

Y/n shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she waves it off. “This was good. At least now we can all carry on with our lives.” She gets out of her chair. “Good luck,” she says to the both of them. Then she looks directly at Penny. “I know you’re worried about making all the same mistakes as your mum, but...” she smiles, “someone said to me that mistakes aren’t genetic. I know you. And I know how much you love your baby. Just promise me you’ll be there for her.”

With that she turns towards the exit. Before she can get far, however, she feels a hand grab her own. She looks back, and it’s Penny. Her eyes are teary, and her chest lifts erratically. “Do you think that...” she swallows, “...that you’ll ever forgive me?”

“Do I still get to be called auntie?” 

Penny lets out a stifled giggle. “Yes.”

Y/n touches her comfortingly on the shoulder. “Then, one day.”

She walks out of there feeling completely at peace with herself.

***

Two Years Later

The newest exhibit proves to be a hit. It’s smaller than its predecessors, this time only containing the work from a single artist. 

She and Harry walk hand-in-hand, greeting all of guests and just enjoying each other’s company. Gramps isn’t moping as much as he usually does, and she thinks it’s because Nan’s bought him a clip-on tie that doesn’t strangle him around the neck. Ava and Nan are gossiping with some potential investors, while her dad tries to apologize on their behalf. 

On the other side, her mum and Lawrence discuss color theory in relation to one of the spotlight pieces. She catches a glimpse of the civility between her parents when they catch each other’s eyes from across the room. 

“I think it’s the gallery’s best showcase yet,” Harry tells her and kisses her on the lips. “Really, I don’t see how anything might top this.”

Y/n laughs. “You’re just trying to get laid.”

Harry wags his eyebrows. “Is it working?” She doesn’t need to give him an answer with words, so instead, she pulls him by the lapels of his jacket and their lips meet in another sweet kiss. 

They stop in front of the piece in the very back, the one that’s drawn in the most viewers. They squeeze through the polluted crowd until they’re close enough to the front. He wraps his arms around her, and they both admire its beauty. 

Two kids laid out on the grass; eyes closed with content smiles on their faces. The sky above them, a product of their combined imaginations as well as the excitement of hopes and dreams. 

Below the canvas is a placcard with the painting’s information. 

Y/n Styles, Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies.

***

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

[jammatown919]

Sick of Losing Soulmates

Takes place in an AU where everyone made it to Vacuo and they got to enroll as students at Shade rather than being thrown into an adult position like they were in Atlas.

Upon waking to the sound of quiet sniffling, Ruby's first thought was that Penny was having another nightmare. She'd been having quite a lot of them in the weeks since the group's arrival at Shade Academy, and while Ruby certainly didn't mind getting up to comfort her girlfriend, it was always difficult to listen to her tearful retellings of the horrors her newly human brain had chosen to subject her to.

Blinking away the last remnants of sleep, Ruby sat up and steeled herself, only to turn her head and find that Penny wasn't crying. Instead, she was sitting up against the headboard of their bed with her eyes closed, gently massaging her temples.

"What's wrong?" Ruby asked softly so as not the wake the rest of the team. Judging by the sunlight pouring into the dorm, their alarms would be going off soon anyway, but she wasn't in the mood to hear Yang moaning about being woken up early.

"I feel awful." Penny whined, her voice thin and nasally.

"Oh, sweetie," Ruby murmured sympathetically, reaching over to feel Penny's forehead. "Are you sick?"

Penny sighed at Ruby's touch, relaxing slightly. Ruby, on the other hand, stiffened in surprise as the heat from Penny's skin met her fingers.

"Jeez, you're burning up." She remarked.

"I'm what?" Penny asked, her eyes going wide with alarm.

"You have a fever." Ruby clarified. "Don't worry, it's totally normal. Just another part of being human."

"I do not like this part." Penny muttered, sounding absolutely miserable. Ruby gently brushed some hair from her girlfriend's face, her heart aching for her.

"Why don't you lay back down?" She suggested. "I'll go and grab you some stuff."

Penny gave a slight nod and sank back down into her pillow as Ruby slid out of bed and slipped quietly from the room.

After about twenty minutes, ten of which were spent wandering the Academy's halls trying to figure out where their floor's student kitchen was, Ruby returned to the dorm with everything she thought Penny would need.

By now, the rest of the team was awake and going about their morning routines, though it seemed they'd realized something wasn't right with Penny and were making an effort to make as little noise as possible. As Ruby crossed the room, she saw Yang glance at the items in her hands and nod in understanding.

"Penny," Ruby said quietly. For a moment, she thought Penny might have drifted back to sleep, but then she opened her eyes and squinted up at Ruby. "Hey, I have everything you'll need for now."

She handed Penny a paper plate with two slices of toast and two bright orange gel capsules, as well as a glass of milk.

"Milk?" Penny inquired, peering curiously into the cup.

"Whole milk." Ruby specified. "My dad gave this to me whenever I got sick as a kid. It's supposed to help you get better faster."

"I don't think that's correct." Penny replied, though she still took a sip to wash down the pills. She glanced briefly at the toast, and then set it, along with the rest of the milk, on the nightstand beside their bed. Slowly, she began to sit up, prompting Ruby to put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"What are you doing?"

"I have to get ready." Penny replied, giving Ruby a puzzled look. "It would be awfully rude to our new teachers if we were late for class."

"Baby, you're sick. You should stay here." Ruby gently nudged Penny back down.

"But all of us are already behind on the year's coursework." Penny protested, though Ruby could tell she really didn't have it in her to argue much. "What if I miss something important?"

"I'll take notes for you." Ruby promised. "Or, if you want, I can stay here to take care of you and Weiss can take notes for us."

"That's very kind, but I would feel terrible if you missed class on my account."

"You know I wouldn't mind." Ruby replied, gently cupping Penny's warm cheek. "You're more important."

Penny smiled softly, bringing a hand up to lay it over Ruby's.

"I will be fine." She promised. "Go."

"Alright," Ruby sighed and pressed a kiss to Penny's forehead. "I'll come check on you at lunch. Try to eat some of that toast if you feel up for it. And drink plenty of water."

"Affirmative." Penny replied, managing to muster up some semblance of cheer in her voice. Ruby smiled, then turned toward the closet to pick out her outfit for the day.

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

Penny didn't remember falling asleep, but she knew she must have. One minute, Team RWBY was bustling around the dorm getting ready for the day, then she'd blinked and suddenly she was alone in the room and the clock above the door read 10:21am.

The nap, as well as the medication Ruby had given her, appeared to have done her some good. Her congestion was still there, but less so, and her headache was finally subsiding. Maybe she could attend her classes after all.

She pulled back the covers and moved to get out of bed, only to be instantly hit with a wave of dizziness. Grabbing the mattress for support, she dangled her legs over the side of the bed and waited for the spell to pass. Once it had, she remembered Ruby's instructions to eat and credited her lightheadedness to fact that she had yet to heed them.

Though she had little appetite, Penny reached for the plate and slowly began to eat, forcing each bite down until she felt nauseous. For the sake of not making herself any sicker, she settled for finishing most of her meal and gently set the plate back down on the nightstand. Then, with more effort than she would have liked, she hauled herself out of bed.

Teetering, she made her way over to the closet, trying to blink away the black spots that had formed on the edge of her vision. She'd never seen those before, and so she wasn't quite sure what to make of them. Where they a normal part of being sick? Perhaps Ruby could tell her when she got to class.

Gripping the doorframe, she grabbed one of Ruby's shirts off it's hanger. She had a few of her own, provided by Shade Academy, but she vastly preferred Ruby's soft t-shirts.

As she stood in the doorway, trying to decide if she wanted to wear one of her own skirts or a pair of Ruby's shorts, the dizziness returned and the room around here suddenly tipped to the side.

She hit the floor with a loud thud, the shirt falling from her hands, and found that her limbs would no longer obey her. Try as she might, she couldn't get back up; she couldn't even lift her head. As her vision swam, she briefly considered calling for help, but nobody was around to hear her.

There was nothing she could do. Nothing except close her eyes and let herself fade.

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

Ruby had been antsy all morning. She really, really hadn't liked the idea of leaving her fevered girlfriend alone in the dorm, especially since it was her first time being sick. Part of her kind of wished she hadn't listen to Penny and stayed behind instead.

The second her last class of the morning was over, Ruby was rushing back to the dorm to check on Penny, stopping briefly in the cafeteria to get her something to eat. After a few moments of consideration, she decided on bringing Penny some soup, and then she was off again, Weiss trailing after her with the spoon she'd forgotten to pick up.

Though they were on entirely separate floors of the Academy, the trip from the cafeteria to her team's dorm only took Ruby about ninety seconds. In her haste to get back to Penny, she'd abandoned Weiss at the elevator two halls over.

"Penny!" Ruby called as she pushed the door open, stepping quickly into the dorm. "I brought you some..." Her brow furrowed in confusion as her gaze fell upon an empty bed, then shot up in alarm when she noticed Penny lying on the floor near the closet.

For a moment, she was reminded of a dream she'd had a few nights ago, and was certain that there was blood seeping into the carpet. Then she blinked and it was gone, leaving just her girlfriend's unconscious body.

"PENNY!" Ruby dropped the container of soup and quite literally flew across the room with some help from her Semblance, dropping to her knees at Penny's side.

She grabbed hold of Penny's shoulders and began to shake her, loudly calling her name, but Penny remained limp and unresponsive. As she continued to shout, Weiss hurried into the room.

"What in the world are you screaming ab- oh..." Weiss stood in the doorway for a moment, staring at the two, then snapped out of her shock and rushed into the bathroom. She reemerged moments later with a damp cloth.

"She's not waking up." Ruby mumbled numbly as Weiss knelt down beside them, gently dabbing the cloth on Penny's forehead.

"She needs a doctor." Weiss replied calmly, her hand resting on Penny's face for a moment. "Was her fever this high this morning?"

"I-I don't know.." Ruby stammered, her voice trembling almost as much as her body. She gripped Penny a little tighter, giving her another rough shake. "C'mon, Penny, wake up."

"Let's get her to the infirmary." Weiss suggested. She began to put her arms around Penny's torso, presumably to help carry her, but Ruby held onto her protectively.

"No, I've got her." Nothing against Weiss, but Ruby really didn't trust anyone but herself with Penny right now. She was too prone, too fragile.

"Okay," Weiss didn't protest at all, just stood and allowed Ruby to scoop Penny up and lift her alone. "But we should hurry. We don't want her getting any worse."

Just the thought of Penny being in any worse condition than she was now was enough to send Ruby sprinting down the hallway, unhindered by the extra weight. She didn't even know how to process the emotions running through her right now; all she knew was that she was terrified.

What if Penny did get worse? What if she didn't wake up? Ruby had already lost her once, and come so close to losing her again back in Atlas. What would she do if Penny didn't recover? If she never got to see those beautiful green eyes or that endearing smile ever again?

Stop, she thought firmly. She couldn't start spiraling. Penny would be fine, with some time and medical attention. She'd probably be awake in a few hours, and Ruby would realize there'd been no reason to worry.

She's going to be fine, her mind echoed as she ran. She has to be fine.

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

Penny woke to the sound of a heart monitor, which she found extremely concerning. Even more concerning was the fact that her limbs felt like lead, and she could hardly move beyond flexing her fingers. She tried to call out for someone, anyone, but all that escaped her lips was a string of incoherent mumbles.

"Penny?" A familiar voice responded urgently from somewhere beside her. Was that Ruby?

"Mmnn?" Penny groaned, forcing her eyes open with great difficulty.

"Thank God you're awake." Ruby let out a sigh, one hand lightly caressing Penny's face.

"Wha'?" Penny mumbled, struggling to take in her surroundings. It appeared she'd been moved while she was unconscious, and though she'd never been here before, she could reasonably assume that it was Shade Academy's infirmary.

She turned her head, resting on an uncomfortably hard pillow which in turn rested on an equally uncomfortable bed, to look around for the heart monitor that had woken her. Much to her surprise, it was right beside the bed, displaying vital signs that she could only assume were hers. Next to it was an IV drip, the bag nearly empty.

"Baby?" Ruby asked quietly, leaning in close. Penny quickly returned her attention to her girlfriend.  "How do you feel?"

"Tired." Penny replied weakly, momentarily squeezing her eyes shut in response to the returning headache.

"Yeah, I bet. Weiss and I found you unconscious in the dorm." Ruby explained, her voice soft and sympathetic, but still somewhat anxious. "You didn't hit your head or anything, right? The doctors said you probably didn't, but I just want to make sure."

"I'm alright." Penny assured her softly. "I believe I fainted."

"You sure did." Ruby replied, relaxing slightly. "What were you doing out of bed?"

"I was getting dressed," Penny said. "To go to class."

"What?!" Ruby exclaimed. Penny flinched at the sudden increase in volume, and she immediately lowered her voice. "Penny, why in the world would you have tried to go to class? You had to have been feeling terrible if you passed out."

"I thought I was feeling better until I stood up."

"And you didn't lay back down when you realized you weren't?"

"Well, no..." Penny admitted, unsure if the warmth in her face was due to the fever or embarrassment. "But, it was not that bad, was it?"

"Not that bad?" Ruby echoed incredulously. "Penny, it was absolutely that bad! You didn't just faint, you've been unconscious for almost seven hours. Your fever went up so high that you needed an IV. I was so scared you weren't going to wake up."

"You were?" Penny felt her brow furrow as she gazed upon Ruby's anxious face.

"Yeah." Tears sprang into Ruby's eyes, and she quickly turned her face to hide them. "I was terrified when we found you. For a minute I- I thought you were dead."

"Ruby..."

"I lost you before at Beacon. I almost lost you so many times in Atlas." Ruby sniffled, her voice thick with emotion. She turned back toward Penny, tears flowing freely down her face. "I had a dream the other night that you didn't make it to Vacuo. You lost that fight with Cinder, and you were hurt, and I wasn't there to help you. You had to ask Jaune to kill you just to stop your powers from going to Cinder. When I found you, you looked just like you did in the dream, and I was so scared that I'd lost you again."

Penny's chest constricted the way it always did when Ruby cried, and she was now certain that the burning in her body was more shame than fever.

"I'm so sorry." She said quietly, fighting back tears of her own. "I never meant to make you upset."

"You don't need to apologize." Ruby sighed, reaching out to rest a hand on Penny's shoulder. "I'm not mad, I just don't want anything to happen to you. You're so new to all these human things; there's so much that can hurt you now that couldn't before, and I'm worried about you."

"I promise I will listen to you from now on."

"You don't always have to listen to me." Ruby said gently. "I know I'm too protective sometimes. But please, listen to your body. If you feel like something's wrong, it probably means something's wrong."

"I think I understand." Penny gave a slight nod, which was about all she could manage without worsening the pain in her head. "I will do my best to prevent situations like this in the future."

"Good," Ruby leaned in so that their foreheads were almost touching. "Because I'm sick of losing you."

"You will never lose me again." Penny said as Ruby pressed a firm kiss to her fevered cheek. "I promise."

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

If you enjoyed this piece, please consider reblogging to share it with others! Likes unfortunately don’t help posts to circulate, so the only way for content creators on this site to have their work seen is if people decide to reblog it. If you do reblog, I see you and I love you. 

[wandsandwheezes]

I'd die for you. | G.W

TW // major character death(s), angst, general sadness, love, mentions of blood, death and sadness.

I would like to apologise in advance for this one, it has taken me two full days of tears and breaking my own god damn heart.

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist my loves💞

@witch-and-a-half @weasleysflowr @wand3ringr0s3 @hufflepuffgirly

Never make a promise you don't intend to keep. That's what my mum always taught me, so in the lead up to the Seven Potters I promised George that even against my best judgements, I'd stay back at the burrow and wait for his arrival.

"If you keep biting those nails, you'll have none left, dear!" Molly said, sitting next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders "Before you know it, they'll all be walking through that doo-" A loud splash echos around the quiet surroundings of the countryside, causing Ginny to jump from the chair and run outside, greeting Harry and Hagrid on their arrival. All too quickly I hear Lupin's voice yelling, causing everyone to look in the direction of his voice. My heart fell to the pit of my stomach.

My mind went blank in the next few moments, I was stood there watching Lupin carry the weak and limp body of love of my life into the confines of the Burrow. Ginny grabs my hand, pulling me inside when she notices that I hadn't moved an inch. I thanked Merlin that he was still breathing, but the blood rushing from his ear made me question how he wasn't unconscious.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." he jokes, feigning a small smile at me as he reaches for my hand, which I let him take, dropping to kneel by his side. My other hand reaching up to brush the hair from his eyes.

"George, you never cease to amaze me how you can still be smiling when you've lost an ear," he squeezes my hand tightly, almost to check I was still there, "who am I if I can't even make the woman I love smile?"

I press a small kiss to his hand, giving him a reassuring smile. I feel a hand on my shoulder, looking up to see Fred staring down at me, he moves to join me beside his brother, "How're you feeling, Georgie?" George takes a deep breath before speaking up.

"Saint like," he smiles, I look to Fred, who has a worry in his eye, I give him a reassuring look as I give George's hand a squeeze, "Come again?" George lets go of my hand, straining to reach up and point at his own ear "I'm holey, get it Fred?"

"The whole wide world of ear related humor and you go for 'I'm holey'... It's pathetic" The twin smiles, looking down at his hands that sat nicely in his lap, "Recon I'm still better looking than you, at least Y/N still thinks so, right angel?" I smile nodding as a small blush rises to my cheeks, I lean in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, earning a small but weak smile from him.

After about 10 minutes of arguing over who would clean up George's ear, I convince Molly that I was more than happy to take care of her son, especially as I've been patching the twins up after any and all mishaps at the shop. She obliges, despite her motherly instincts kicking in, helping me guide George into the bathroom. We seat him ontop of the toilet seat, nestling between his legs as I gently dab a warm cloth over the side of his face, clearing away all of the blood. I find myself taking in every freckle, every little scar on his face, the way his cheeks were so full and how he was just so perfect, making me realise how much I loved him.

"How did I ever get so lucky?" he smiles up at me, his hands holding onto the backs of my thighs, as my hand holds his chin in place, starting the task of cleaning the blood from his ear. I try to make sureBeing careful to be more gentle every time he winces. "If you're lucky, Georgie, imagine how I feel waking up to you every morning."

"Promise me something," I push back his hair so that it's out of the area, grabbing some antiseptic. "If it's that the antiseptic won't hurt, then there's nothing I can do my love, just bite down on this." I give him a towel which he places between his teeth. The sounds he made as the alcohol cleaned his wound broke my heart, but it was in his best interest. I pull out my wand, casting a small spell to deal with the stitches while he's still biting down on the cloth, causing him to groan again, but this time it was more of a wince then full on cries of pain. I wrap a bandage around his head, holding some gauze in place to help with the bleeding.

"If I didn't love you so much, I'd be swearing this house down by now," he says, pulling the cloth from between his teeth, I reach to wipe away his stray tears that linger under his eyes and on his cheeks. "Now my love, what am I promising you?"

He goes to stand up, quickly deciding against it as he sits back down. I take his hands again, rubbing my thumbs across the back of his hands, he pasuses for a moment, almost as if he's unsure of what he's about to ask, however the grin that he pulls his lips into dispells any worry. "I want you to promise me that you'll still love me with one ear."

"Georgie, I'd die for you, regardless how many ears you may or may not have, you're the love of my life." I laugh, leaning down to finally press a kiss to his lips, moving one of his hands to the small of my back and tgr other to the back of my head, keeping me pulled into the kiss for a little longer.

The next few months were weird and uncertain, Diagon Alley becoming quieter and quieter, I begged George to move back to the Burrow so that we'd be out of the madness and true to his word we did, Molly helping me work with him on his sickness and growing vertigo. Harry, Ron and Hermione were off hunting horcruxes and every morning I got a gut feeling that things were going to get worse.

Beams of Green and Red were flying all around me as I ran through the corridors of hogwarts. The sounds of crying, screaming and yelling were all I could hear. A head of firey red hair, pops around the wall which I spot out of the corner of my eye, he was fighting off Death eaters like it was nothing when suddenly he's thrown to the floor, his wand flying from his hand. I'm trying to run towards him but I feel like I can't move, every muscle in my body is resisting.

"Avada Kedavra!" suddenly the body of the man I love goes lifeless before me, I scream at the top of my lungs, my body finally giving in as I collape at his side, wailing from the pit of my stomach.

"no, no, no... Wake up! Please wake up, My love, just open-" "your eyes, shh, it's okay, I'm here, it's just a dream, baby." my tear stained cheeks, and small shallow breaths were enough for George to realise that it wasn't a normal dream, the protective part of him pulling me into his arms, rocking me gently as he coos my sobs, which grow less and less violent as I'm brought back to reality

"I'm sorry." I whisper as his hand plays with my hair, soothing me to a point where I can finally breathe again, "don't be, when you screamed like that i thought something was happening to you, I swear whatever was hurting you like that I'd take the brunt, I'd die for you, my angel."

"Don't say that." I breathe, shaking my head as I press a soft kiss to his jaw, "no dying, not for me, Georgie." he holds me tighter, leaning down to connect our lips in a soft kiss. "no dying, got it."

I hadn't seen George in a month, we decided that with the death eaters still roaming the streets, it would be better if we both went into hiding. My aunt, who has two witches herself, was keeping me safe, telling her girls to stay in Australia for their own safety. I hear a small knock on the door, Aunt Melinda poking her head into the room.

"This just came inside one of my letters, it's for you, darling." I smile at her, taking the letter gratefully, I recognise the handwriting immediately, opening up the envelope to a gorgeous hand-written letter.

To My Angel,

Merlin, I miss you. Dad told me about how the whole muggle mail thing works and I think I enjoy it more than mail by owl. I think personally that it was a stroke of genius to write to you like this because I know theres no way that the death eaters will go looking through muggle mail.

I want nothing more than to hear your voice again, to touch your skin, feel you next to me when I wake. Oh, Speaking of sleep, how are your nightmares? I don't sleep much these days so I hope you're resting better than I am.

Dad says the order has been checking on the house and the shop regularly, they think the burrow will be safe again soon, I hope you'll join the family and I because I have something I need to ask you and I don't want to do it over a letter.

I love you always and forever.

Georgie

I hold the letter close to my heart, longing to feel his presense again. The nightmares haven't been getting any better, no matter what I do, I don't get to him in time and I have to watch him die in front of me over and over again, knowing that I could've saved him. A wave of pain and sadness washes over me as I curl myself into a ball, under the covers, praying that the duvet becomes his arms and that I don't fall asleep to see his lifeless eyes again.

Two months later, finally stood in each other's arms, kissing again in the room where it all started for us. For a moment I'm taken back to Dumbledore's Army and the hours George and I spent as we snuck into the room of requirement, him helping me perfect my patronus, giving me the happiest memory of all when he kissed me for the first time.

We stood by the window, away from everybody, talking and making up for lost time, holding onto me like he wouldn't ever let go again, every time I looked at him, I was smiling, my heart doing backflips.

"I wanted to ask you this before it all gets crazy," he smiles taking both of my hands as he gets down on one knee, pulling out a ring from his pocket. "I was going to ask you when you were mending my ear, I wish I didn't catch myself out and that I'd asked you then and there because being away from you made me realise that I can't spend another day without you, I love you so much, you're the best thing to have ever happened to me so I want to make us last forever, that's if you still love me, even with one ear."

I giggle, taking the ring and slipping it onto my finger as I nod frantically. I wanted nothing more than to be with George forever, even if he only had one ear.

I don't think any of us realised we were fighting a war until the bodies of people we cared about started to pile around us. I was fighing for everything I had, until I couldn't breathe, a sense of dread washing over me when I realised I'd been fighting alone. I was running around the castle and everything felt like slow motion. That was until I stumbled into the great hall and suddenly time felt real again.

Ginny was holding me back from stepping closer to any of the family, I caught a glimpse of the redheaded boy who looked to be asleep on the floor, his twin sobbing next to him as the family wept. "It's freddie, Y/N" she whispers, "Fred's gone."

Every wail and sob from every nightmare came back to me at once, pushing past Hermione to wrap my arms around George, letting him cry into my arms, and there we stay for as long as he needed.

When It felt like it was all over, we believed Harry was Dead, that this was the end, that everything we had worked for was short lived. I cried into George's shoulder, hugging his side, it felt like a part of all of us had gone. So when Harry reveals himself to truly be alive we were all in a state of shock, moving as one to finish what was started if not for us then for those we lost.

The fight was not over. Beams of Green and Red were flying all around me as I ran through the corridors. The sounds of crying, screaming and yelling were all I could hear. It's like I'd done this a thousand times. I saw the man I loved, from the corner of my eye, he was fighting off Death eaters like it was nothing, when suddenly he's thrown to the floor, his wand flying from his hand. I realised, I had done this before. It was all de ja vu and before I could think, I run and jump in front of the spell that was meant for him, taking it with the full force of my body.

The next few moments felt like no time at all, like both nothing and forever. He held my body in his arms as I reach up to press my hand against his cheek, feeling the last of my life slip away from me, "I love you, George, even if you do only have one ear."

Never make a promise you don't intend to keep. When I told George I would die for him, I truly meant it. When I told him I'd love him forever I meant it. I continued on with him for years, watching him heal and mourn Fred and I. The thing that hurt the most was hearing him still talk to me, like he feels me there, "I made your favourite, mum's cinnamon rolls, she doesn't make them much anymore, I don't think she will without your help." he smiles down at his plate, pulling the roll in half, before letting out a deep breath, placing the other half down and sliding it across the table.

I'm hugging him but he can't feel me there, I'm there every night, curled up next to him but he doesn't feel me hold his cheek anymore. He's sat in the dark, tears rolling down his cheeks, "I know you're here, I can feel you with me but not Freddie." he wipes away his tears, pulling a pillow into his chest. "I hope he's okay, would've been nice of him to leave me one of his ears, it's not like he ever used them anyway." George Weasley, you never cease to amaze me how you can still be smiling when you've lost all that you have.

He never loved another woman, even when he tried, by Godric I wanted him to be happy, even if it wasn't with me. He was sat on the bed, clutching the photo of him and I as he played with the engagement ring he gave me. "I live for you my Angel, If only there was a way you could have lived for me."

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 3

Happy finals week, ugh. As always, reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Chapter 3: Well shit Babs, maybe I like ponies

Marinette sat on a rock and paddled her bare feet in the water. It was a beautiful day, the sun was warming the top of her loose, dark hair and the ocean in front of her stretched for miles and miles.

A noise disturbed her peaceful moment. A distant cry, probably a seagull.

She sighed and leaned back on her hands to breathe in the smell of--

Marinette choked. Why was there smoke in the air?

The cries grew louder as she looked back at the water before her. She started when she saw that they came from her friends, who were in the now-tumultuous water, trying to keep themselves afloat. They were only a few yards away, she could make it if she just--

A force around her waist tugged her hard as she leapt to her feet. Her face collided with the concrete beneath her-- the top of a building, she realized. If the water level was up this high, then....

From where she lay, she could see directly down into the water. It was no longer clear, but a deep crimson. There were dozens of figures scattered about, some still struggling and some motionless. She scrambled to get up as her eyes snapped to Alya’s hand disappearing below the waves.

That damn force jerked her to the other side of the building, farther from her friends.

“No!” Marinette cried out desperately. The force released her and she whirled to find her attacker.

A flash of red caught her eye, and--

Oh.

It was Ladybug.

Marinette shook her head, not understanding. If that was Ladybug, then.... No, it couldn’t be Ladybug, because she was Ladybug. She fumbled for her earrings, but felt nothing.

Ladybug stalked deliberately up to Marinette and pushed her to the ground. Marinette landed on her hands and knees, both of which were now shaking.

“Look at them,” it was her own voice that spat so harshly from Ladybug’s lips. “Look at them.” She grabbed Marinette’s hair from behind and forced her head up.

Marinette could now see Adrien, Kagami, Luka, and Chloe in the ocean in front of her. Their lifeless faces floated just below the surface, the bloodied water doing nothing to conceal their frozen expressions of terror.

Marinette sobbed and closed her eyes. Ladybug pulled sharply on her hair again, and looked into Marinette’s eyes.

“Look at them. Don’t you dare take your eyes off the mess you’ve made. You will never be able to save them all,” Ladybug’s eyes, her eyes, blazed with the vehemence of her words. She opened her mouth to speak again, but a loud beeping sound was all that came out.

Marinette gasped and sat up in her bed, the alarm sending her heartbeat into a frenzy. Tikki flew up next to her as she slumped over with a hand over her eyes.

It was just a dream.

Another Kwami must have turned off her alarm because the beeping had stopped, but Marinette could still hear the echoes of her friends’ dying breaths ringing in her ears.

“Marinette... are you okay?” Tikki placed a delicate paw on her chosen’s arm. “We heard you cry out while you were sleeping.”

The girl lifted her head and gave the little god a shaky smile. “It was just a dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tikki floated back down to where the other Kwami were piled on the side of the bed with similarly worried expressions on their faces.

Marinette exhaled a bracing sigh. “Okay.... It was Syren. Or-or Chat Blanc, I’m not really sure.” The Kwami exchanged a look at that. This was not the first time she’d had a nightmare about water. “But Ladybug was there, and she was attacking me.”

Tikki looked especially concerned about that new piece of information. She opened her mouth to say something when Marinette’s phone lit up with a call. The ringtone was Alya’s.

Marinette picked up, trying to control the shaking of her hands. “H-hey girl, what’s up?” Her tone was deceptively cheerful.

“Hey Mari! Just checking to see if you’re awake. Nino and I are ready, he even put on the goggles already!” Marinette instantly relaxed as she heard Alya’s excited voice bubbling out.

“Yeah dudette, they feel really weird. But comfy!” Nino must have leaned over to pitch in.

Marinette shook off the last vestiges of the nightmare with a giggle. “Yeah, it’s kind of tricky to get the headset to fit over your glasses, but you’ll get used to it!”

“Well if you’re not ready yet then you’d better hurry up, girl! The game launches in five minutes.”

Marinette scrambled to check the time. “Oh crap! I gotta go, see you guys soon!” She hung up and rushed to untangle herself from her blankets.

“Good thing you set three alarms, huh?” Tikki followed her down from the loft and watched her brush out her hair.

Marinette stuck her tongue out at the god of creation.

* * *

Red Hood stalked into the Batcave, nearly running Oracle over as she wheeled herself up to her station at the Batcomputer.

“Woah Jaybird, don’t let me get in your way there,” Babs glared at his retreating back. “Asshole,” she muttered to herself.

Jason hurled his helmet onto the floor of the bathroom and began shucking off his suit with far more force than necessary. He started a shower and looked over his new wounds in the mirror. He’d been stupid, so damn stupid, on patrol.

“Red Hood, report in,” Batman’s gravelly voice cut through on his comms. “Hood, you are not to engage alone. What is your location?”

But Jason couldn’t hear him. The only thing he could hear was blood rushing in his ears, but it wasn’t his blood. No, it was the blood of every monstrous, corrupt asshole in this city. And he wanted it to run on the streets.

The Joker had sent thugs out to a meet-up. Well, Red Hood could send them back in a casket. He crouched beside a gargoyle and watched for the arrival of the van he’d tailed. There were only two men. They left the vehicle and waited outside, lighting cigarettes. Too easy.

Red Hood swept down the building, guns never leaving their holsters. He wanted this to hurt. Them or him, he wasn’t sure. But he got his wish as he beat the two men to a pulp. He wasn’t sure how far he’d have gone if not for the arrival of the gang the Joker’s men were supposed to meet with.

They slashed his back with knives. Shallow wounds, easy to manage. By the time Red Hood turned to face them, the others had arrived-- Batman, Nightwing, Robin. And boy were they pissed.

Jason winced as the hot water hit the cuts on his back. He rolled his shoulders and just let the steam ground him. He didn’t kill again, even if every time that green-haired bastard got involved, he went off the rails.

He would get to choose his own path, not the one Bruce wanted for him, but damn well not the one Thalia wanted for him either. This story was his, he reminded himself while gingerly toweling off. Even if he couldn’t look his own reflection in the eye.

He gripped the countertop, staring down as he let his hair drip into the sink. No, he wasn’t feeling desperate enough to see if his eyes were green again.

Damnit, he had to apologize to Babs. He felt calmer now, but he’d been a real dick when he came in. Jason dressed quickly in sweatpants and an old shirt, then padded quietly back to where he knew his sister would be at the computers.

“Hey,” he said, knocking softly when he entered to announce his presence. Barbara didn’t respond for a moment. She was leaning forward in her chair, typing something into one monitor while listening to police chatter, then nodded to herself and sat back.

“Hey.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Robin told me what happened on patrol.”

Jason scowled. “That little tattletale.”

Barbara offered him a reassuring smile. “That little tattletale is the only reason I didn’t hack into your bank account and order a damn pony.”

“Well shit Babs, maybe I like ponies,” Jason snarked back, but his heart wasn’t into it. “Listen... I’m sorry about earlier. If replacement talked to you already, you know what kind of mood I was in, but that’s no excuse.”

Babs turned her chair to face him and held out her hand. He stepped forward and took it, and she said, “We know you’re trying, Jay. Stuff like this? This is who you are. A year ago, you wouldn’t have been caught dead apologizing to me!” She cringed. “Ah, no offense.”

He chuckled. “None taken, it’s about time you started getting in on the undead jokes.” He patted her hand before walking away back to the main space of the cave. “But thank you, it means a lot.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth!” She raised her voice and turned back to face the computer.

Dick and Tim were already waiting in the cave. Tim was fiddling with some beds and what looked like opaque ski goggles. He always fidgeted when he was nervous.

“Hey replacement,” Jason shouted across the room. He noticed Dick bristle, but cut him off before he could get the patented older brother speech. “How much time ‘til the launch?”

Tim’s eyes lit up, and damn him for caring, but Jason just didn’t want them to be afraid of him.

* * *

Connor and Zatanna were washing dishes in the Cave’s kitchen after dinner. Connor heard the distant sound of someone arriving via zeta tube. He let Zatanna know as they finished drying their plates, then followed her to go greet their visitors.

Wally and Artemis staggered into the room, both weighed down by overflowing boxes of equipment.

“Oh thank god, please help me!” Artemis said, spotting Connor. He obliged and easily took the heavy box from her. She rubbed her arms and smiled gratefully as he held it aloft in one hand.

“It must be so handy having him around,” she sighed to Zatanna.

The magician giggled. “It certainly has its perks, but....” She lifted her hands and said clearly, “Flesruoy egnarra.” The contents of the boxes, some assorted cots, VR headsets, and computers, floated up and placed themselves into a neat formation. “A girl can get by by herself.” She gave Artemis a fistbump.

The zeta tube activated and they all looked up to watch it. The AI announced Wondergirl, and Cassie Sandsmark walked out. She looked up from her phone and waved. “Oh hey guys, whatcha doing?”

Wally zoomed around the set-up Zatanna had created. “We’re just setting up to play this new virtual reality game that’s coming out at midnight! What about you?”

“Oh, what a coincidence, I was just--”

Cassie was cut off by the zeta tube activating again. This time it was Bart, carrying Jaime bridal style, and running at full speed. He skidded to a halt, put a very ill-looking Jaime down, and ran a hand through his windswept hair.

“So totally crash! What’s poppin’?” He made finger guns at Connor, Zatanna, and Artemis.

Zatanna started explaining, “Well, like were just telling Cassie, there’s this new video game coming out at midnight and we--”

She was interrupted by the screech of a green pterodactyl swooping in from the zeta tube. It circled once around the high ceilings of the hollowed-out mountain, then landed and shrank into Beast Boy.

“Just a heads up, Arsenal’s right behind me and he’s a little angry-- oh what are you guys doing?”

Connor was getting frustrated now. “We’re trying to get set up for this new video game that’s launching in five minutes, so if you guys wouldn’t mind--”

A small explosion sounded from the door to the exterior of the island. Roy burst in amidst a cloud of dust.

“Hope I’m not late, I lost my phone.” He sounded like he was in a bad mood.

Bart whispered to Connor, “He means he destroyed his phone.”

Roy dusted off his pants, then looked to Wally and Artemis and asked, “The hell are you doing here?”

“AUGH,” Artemis had had enough. “We’re here to play the video game coming out at midnight! If you want to join us, fine, but if you don’t then get out.” She pointed to the zeta tubes.

Garfield tried to placate her. “Sheesh, it’s just a game! No need to get so worked up.”

Jaime gave him an incredulous look. “Weren’t you just throwing a tantrum yesterday about Bart kicking your ass halfway to Bialya in Smash?”

“...Noted.” Garfield answered.

“Well, looks like we’ve got plenty of hands to help get everyone set up. Let’s get to it!” Cassie expertly maneuvered the two teams away from setting off their more explosive members. They distributed headsets and assigned reclining positions without further delay.

* * *

Marinette put the headset on and laid down on her bed.

“Ready to go back?” Tikki asked her.

She gave the little god a grin. “Definitely.”

In the distance, the bells in Notre Dame chimed six times, but Marinette couldn’t hear them. Her mind had gone somewhere far, far away. Somewhere new.