#i LOVE HER but god her hair gave me carpal tunnel

[dankld]

manga panel redraws of some naruto faves + sand siblings

+ close ups

[tobiosmilktea]

Hello! I really love your writing and I just saw your requests are open yay 👏🏻 So my idea is that the reader (female or neutral, as you prefer it) is a third year who takes art lessons as an extracurricular subject or something and the teacher ask their students to draw posters of the sport teams, and the reader got the volleyball team. The thing is the reader knows the third years but they're not really close, so they talk just a bit. (Part 1)

paint the clouds — tendou satori

4.7k words | genre/s: fluff | warning/s: possible ooc on everyone tbh | pairing: tendou x f!reader

↪︎ in which you painted a muse who always wanted you too

a/n: definitely not my best work and im super sorry for that, but i hope you still enjoy it 👉🏻👈🏻

a warm spring breeze blew strands of your hair in front of your face, laying against your rosy cheeks as you watched the horizon. the bright yellow sun teased the sky with hues of pink and orange, bound to mix into the darkness of the sunset. school had ended a few hours ago and now you were sitting in your art club waiting for your teacher to dismiss you. she was in a middle of a spiel explaining your next art project, but your brain struggled to follow.

your hand ached from drawing for hours, your wrist tender from constant pressure, and now you could’ve sworn you were going to get carpal tunnel sooner or later. it was worth it, anyway, you were doing what you liked doing as you honestly felt being an artist was your only talent. it was merely the only thing you focused on besides your academics. dating was certainly out of the question.

instead, you watched the birds fly past the open classroom window as your teacher explained the assignment something along the lines doing sports teams posters.

“i will be walking around the classroom with a box filled with names of sports clubs,” the teacher starts, pulling you out of your train of thought as your attention was finally set on her. “you will pick a random piece of paper from the box and that will be the sports team you will be making a club poster for.”

whispers erupted in the room as others verbalized which team they wished to get.

“i hope i get the volleyball team, they’re literally iconic.” you heard one girl say.

another voice exclaimed, “drawing the equestrian team sounds super fun too!”

the murmurs continued to the buzz even after the majority of the class had already picked out their sports team from the box. you were the last one to choose as you opted to sit in the back of the class.

“and last but not least,” said your teacher as she serpentine through the desks towards your sitting figure.

your hand dug into the small cardboard box only to feel one last piece of paper. you wanted to scoff slightly, but you stopped yourself the moment you grabbed the last slip of paper and read the messy handwriting. it took you a good second to even understand what it said as it was complete chicken scratch (no offense to the teacher).

“(y/n), what did you get?” your friend who sat in front of you turned with a smile on her face.

"i got the volleyball club,” you answered, eyes widening when your friend gasped.

“that’s literally the best one to get! i’m so jealous,” she sighed as if she just inhaled a rose scented breeze.

perhaps you were lucky to get such a sought after sports team as your main focus for the assignment, but you couldn’t help but feel an overbearing weight suddenly falling upon your shoulders. shiratorizawa’s volleyball team was the epitome of the academy. they were the ones who brought a significant name to the school with only the smartest of intellects but one with the best athletes. depending on how well you created this poster could potentially make or break your reputation. it was a visual representation of the team, anything less than iconic would dig a deeper hole for you.

it certainly doesn’t help the fact that you actually had to talk to the volleyball team now that you were in charge of their school poster. you internally groaned. you barely interacted with the third years, let alone being completely enamored over a familiar red-head.

your after school activities had ended in the midst of your running train of thoughts as you absentmindedly gathered your things and walked out of the classroom. you gripped the handle of your bag as you strolled through the near-empty hallways of the academy, your mind in a complete spiral as you had already tried visualizing what the end product might look like.

it was common knowledge to everyone who had known about you was well aware how amazing you were at art. no matter what medium you were given, you were known to be the girl who had magical hands that could create even the most beautiful things out of ash and smoke. you had this some innate, almost magical ability to have others stop in their tracks just to admire your works.

perhaps that you were too caught up in your own thoughts and the hypnotic tapping rhythm of your loafers clicking against the school floors that you hadn’t even notice your arrival towards the gym.

even the loud shouts of volleyball players from the ongoing practice wasn’t enough to pull your gaze away from the ground and towards the flying volleyball hurdling towards you.

“(y/l/n), watch out!” you heard a familiar voice shout out, immediately pulling you out of your own jungle-like psyche and into the real world.

everything had happened so quickly, all you knew was a blur fly past you to retrieve the ball before it knocked out of conscious. semi eita quickly turned to you, his figure greatly towering over you as he gave you a reassuring smile. “are you okay, (y/l/n)?”

you gulped, nodding almost too quickly. “yeah, i’m okay.”

“good,” he mutters as his brows slightly furrow in confusion. there was a thin blanket of awkwardness hovering above both of your heads as you both stood there in silence for a good five seconds—five seconds too long that is. “so what brings you here?” he finally breaks it, scratching the back of his head in the mean time.

right, you had almost forgotten why you were here in the first place.

“it’s about the art club, we’re doing sports team posters and i was wondering if i could talk to the third years for ideas.” you asked gently.

semi’s eyes immediately widened, the already prevalent smile on his face only increased at the statement. “that’s cool! come with me, i’ll show you to them.” he quickly motioned you to come inside the gym, feeling the brisk air difference of the air conditioned gymnasium to the warm spring breeze outside.

a shiver flowed down your back. not from the sudden influx of cold air surrounding your body, but the fact that towering volleyball players and their ever-so-intimidating nature causing nervous habits to take over you. soekawa jin, the vice captain of the team quickly flickered a look towards you before tapping ushijima’s arm for his attention. turning to see what his teammate wanted, soekawa swiftly pointed at you and semi approaching.

“it’s a surprise seeing you here, (y/l/n).” ushijima greets you in his deep, guttural voice. it caused you to gulp nervously, struggling to even put on the tiniest of smiles as you meekly muttered a ‘hi’ to the rest of the third years. however, it seemed as if the one you were most familiar with was not in sight. it did seem a tad bit quiet in the gym now that the practice game was on a time out.

“um,” one of the wing spikers approached you, ohira reon was it? “sorry for almost hitting you, by the way.”

you swiftly shook your head, “no, it’s okay. i was the one who wasn’t playing attention, so that’s on me.” 

“so, you’re here for the poster?” ushijima cut into it like a sharp knife, bold and straight to the point.

“yeah, um, i just stopped by to ask if you guys had anything ideal you want to see on your club poster.” your voice was softer than you hoped it would be when you spoke. 

eyebrows furrowing, ushijima glances among his teammates as provocation for an option saturated his hums of curiosity. 

semi then clears his throat, “we’re not really sure if we have any input for you, (y/n). besides, i think your poster will be amazing nevertheless.”

“that’s still a lot of pressure,” you mutter, “considering i would be mauled to death if this poster isn’t amazing.” sarcasm drenched your words like saccharine, hoping that the tall athletes would at least get your banter and share a laugh with you.

but they didn’t. instead, they stared with wide eyes at you in a mere worrying glance. perhaps the joke didn’t exactly translate well.

god, this is so awkward.

however, it wasn’t like you were exactly lying. as the face of shiratorizawa academy, you were aware that they needed to look good and if it were any less than that, you might never see the light of day ever again. not to mention you always liked adding twists to your artwork, which was technically the only reason why you were so infamously known to have such amazing works. but in the past half hour, you’ve came to the conclusion that it possibly isn’t the best option in this case.

“i’m kidding, by the way,” you let out a light huff.

“well, if it helps you in any way, you could always focus on ushijima as he is our ace.” soekawa cuts in, patting the captain’s back the moment he braided his arms over each other.

any form of leftover conversation (or lack thereof) was sliced—cut off from the sudden opening of the gymnasium doors and the (quite obnoxiously) loud middle blocker. tendou satori entered the giant gym with a bright beaming face of glimmering lights and cherries. tendou was perhaps one of the first people to talk to you the moment you entered this academy, eyes glazed in a honey-like optimism with every bright ‘hello.’ you always tended to be the quiet and secluded one in your classes with him despite being known to be infamously sardonic, you seemed to be the only one to which his overly comic ways of banter didn’t annoy you like it did with others. he, himself, was a sunray, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to expose that thought as your eyes fall onto the approaching boy.

out of all the third year volleyball players, you and tendou had talked the most, yet considering you two as more than just mere acquaintances was a bit of a reach.

“yo!” the redhead’s loud voice thundered throughout the gym and you could already feel it echo within your heart.

“you’re back,” mused ohira with his hands on his hips. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” tendou says, fixing the loosened athlete’s tape over his fingers. “but the school nurse was already gone by the time i got there, so i had to fix myself up—oh hey, (y/n)!” he had cut himself off the moment his eyes fell upon yours.

your breath had hitched the moment he greeted you. it was as if your heart had immediately jumped into your throat and prevented you from even muttering a word as you can already feel your palms getting clammy. “hey,” you mutter almost in a whisper.

“so what are you doing here?” questioned tendou as his eyes suddenly widen the moment the words came out of his mouth, “uh-that sounded really rude, um—i actually meant that in the nicest way possible, by the way.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his sudden burst of scattered thoughts, noticing a faint flush of pink upon his cheeks. 

“she’s here for the club poster,” ushijima answers in your place as you seemed to not answer even after a beat had passed.

“oh nice! i’m sure it’ll look really cool!” the middle blocker grinned at you to which a sudden wave of monarch butterflies attacked your gut. you could even feel the heat coursing through your cheeks and all the way to the tips of your ears until they were as red as tendou’s hair.

“hopefully,” you modestly commented, eyes then falling upon tendou’s wrapped wrist and couldn’t help but be filled with curiosity. “what happened to  you?”

the middle blocker shook his head dismissively. “i tried blocking one of ushijima’s spikes again, but as you know, it is a bit impossible and i ended up hurting myself. it’s no biggie, though.” he shrugs.

“t-that’s amazing.” you breathed out before you could catch yourself. and you swore, you saw the light pink hues of blush upon tendou’s face had darkened.

how cool, you thought with the stars in your eyes. the thought was a bit controversial, but you couldn’t but find tendou satori cooler than ushijima at that very moment. the fact that he knew very well how difficult and painful it was to block his spikes, tendou still attempted it to the point at the cusp of being injured. you began fiddling with your fingers for far too long as you’ve come to realize how long you were standing there for no more reason. you mentally face palmed as you cleared your throat, “anyway, if you guys do have any preferred ideas let me know before friday.”

before the boys could even say a proper goodbye, your legs were already carrying you towards the exits of the gymnasium as if it was running on autopilot. she did hear their shouts of good lucks from across the room as your long strides pushed you to quickly leave.

why was i so awkward for?

in retrospect, perhaps you were more nervous than you thought. it had been an entire week since you had received the assignment to create a club poster for the volleyball team and there hadn’t been a night filled with peaceful sleep. instead, they were brimming with 2am moments of inspired antics. working on the large poster filled you with nothing but utter confidence even after it was finished, but now that you were actually at school with the rolled up poster of the incredible volleyball team, you couldn’t help but feel waves of reluctance and insecurity.

it was always like this with you. where everything was fine and your confidence within your works were expected, but the moment you did have to present such things, you couldn’t help but think of what you should’ve done differently. you assumed that you could’ve improved your mixed media skills by a little bit as there wasn’t much you could’ve done either way in that murky little head of yours that obviously lacked sleep.

the hallways of shiratorizawa were still pretty empty as it was still quite early in the morning. most of the students were outside anyway, so you quickly took this chance to unroll the large poster. taking some push-pins from the side pocket of your school bag, you hung the poster up in it’s place. 

you breathed out one last sigh of ichor before picking up your bag and walking away from the masterpiece.

throughout the entire day, you had come across dozens of stares of others as you walked through the hallways, bringing your endless sea of nerves to heighten until you were dragged upon its tides. there were whispers everywhere. they were probably talking about your poster for the volleyball club and immediately you felt drowned in sorrow.

within a snap, had already thought of the worse possible outcomes that others were talking about how terrible of a job you did. perhaps that leap of faith, that tiny step out of the box when creating your poster was too much of a risk that you ended up falling to your own demise.

“(y/n)!” a voice called from behind you.

turning over your shoulder, you saw a familiar redhead making his way towards you in a bright amble. you immediately felt your heart drop as you whip your head back around and started to walk away. 

shit, shit shit. you thought, tendou was definitely not the first person you wanted to talk to you when the possibilities of what he had to say to you was tangling in your psyche. as if they were tangled vines yearning to be untangled for his closure and yet, you refused.

your shoes clicked rapidly against the floors of the school when suddenly your wrist was pulled back, turning towards his familiar tall figure.

your direct gaze was on his chest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up upon his eyes. you couldn’t, at least. as if you were, your face would resemble something similar to a tomato.

“listen, tendou.” you muttered, still not attempting to meet his gaze. “i’m kind of late for class, but if you want talk later then we can—”

“no, i want to talk now,” he stated seriously, almost too seriously as it caused you to look up to him in surprise.

your mouth gaped to say something, yet nothing seemed to come out.

“i just wanted to say thanks for the poster.” tendou says as his breath almost hitched from the mere sight of you. he could recall the rushing feeling of blood coursing towards his cheeks and ears the moment he stepped upon school grounds and saw your poster. there his painted figure was, stood more prominently than the rest of his team. it was as if he needed the taste of sweet-tongued cough syrup just to ease his aching cheeks from smiling so hard.

the feeling was amazing. that from the smallest little action of you focusing on him rather than what he thought was going to be ushijima (like always) it was you who chose him. the loud middle blocker over the incredible ace of shiratorizawa. he knew validation wasn’t everything, and yet, his immense feeling of being at the top of the world certainly didn't help the fact that he had always been in love with you. you and tendou had the same class each and every year, that each first day of school, he would always sit giddily at his desk just so he could watch your angelic figure walk in.

in spite of it all, from his loud and upfront nature, he could never bring himself to even talk to you everyday besides an occasional ‘good morning’ whenever you would walk in. perhaps seeing this poster of himself was a little push into the deep end—to finally grow the guts to spill his unspoken epiphanies of built up feelings for once.

“usually, it’s ushijima who’s the face of the shiratorizawa team, but it’s nice seeing a change.” continued the middle blocker on the cusp of rambling, “i really didn’t expect you to focus it on me though, so that was a surprise... which by the way,” he hesitates as if he was do embarrassed to even ask. “why did you choose me?”

you pursed your lips the moment your breath was snatched from your lungs. “um,” you sighed, your mind speedily trying to come up with a plausible answer—something other than perhaps inevitably revealing you feelings for him, “i just think you’re really cool.” was all you could come up with and quite honestly, you wanted to face palm yourself for how stupid it probably sounded.

but to tendou, it was an absolute godsend. his heart thumped rapidly against his rib cage as his cheeks reddened into crimson wine. he didn’t know what else to say afterwards as that was his final push. it was then the idea popped inside his mind. a cheeky smile melted upon his lips as he patted your head gently.

“you’re an amazing artist, (y/n).” he complimented, amused by the fact he was the one who caused your reddening face before turning his heel and waving, “see you tomorrow!”

“u-uh, see you?” you stammered over his sudden departure, briefly waving before hold your hand to your chest. you felt as if your heart was to inevitably combust at the sudden overflow of ardor and vehemence of tendou satori’s actions. 

a sigh left your peachy lips, why am i feeling like this?

tendou could’ve sworn he had enough time to make it back to practice before stirring up any suspicions from his team, but the unfortunate tides have come across and drenched him in ill-fate—all gross and sticky.

ever since seeing your poster of him the day before, the thought of you had been on the middle blocker’s mind enough that even ushijima noticed his change in demeanor.

“what’s up with him?” the captain asked semi as they watched the redhead stumble into the gym.

“i think it’s about (y/l/n),” he answers in a hushed voice in case the disorganized tendou somehow heard. “he’s been in love with her since first year and seeing the poster of him is finally forcing him to make a move.”

ushijima refrained from chuckling, “so all it took was a poster with him as the center instead of me?”

“yeah, pretty much.” says semi.

tendou had been non-stop running back and forth between his classroom, the gym, and the art room after that burst of serendipitous ideas clouded his brain until it was all he could focus on. he had already missed the beginning of practice just so he could do something special for you for when he does muster up the courage to confess.

it was something along the lines of returning the favor of what you did to him, but he was well aware of the fact that he was a volleyball player for a reason and not an artist. honestly, most of the work was done with the help of you friend from the art club to which she basically did the drawing and tendou just colored it in. however he liked to think that it was the thought that counted, either way.

“sorry i’m late,” the missing middle blocker finally appeared. he was trying to catch his breathe as he rested his arms upon his bent knees. perhaps he quite disliked how gigantic the shiratorizawa campus was when it came to this. “i had to take care of something.”

ushijima gave semi an amused look before hardening his gaze on tendou, he tried not to laugh as he cleared his throat to hide that fact. “what’s more important than volleyball practice?” perhaps in the ace’s rarity, he was in the mood to tease the guy. “a girl?”

and immediately, the look on tendou’s face—of complete and utter fear that his captain would potentially punish him with extra conditioning was going to be the death of him—was instead replaced with chuckles him ushijima and semi.

“i’ll leave you off the hook as this was your first time missing a practice, not to mention you missed it for a girl you’ve liked for three years now.” said ushijima surprisingly out of character, than even he found himself shocked by saying it. “but if you miss another practice for (y/l/n), you’ll have extra conditioning everyday before and after school.”

tendou nods rapidly, “yessir!”

the rest of the day was filled with the sound of firm volleyballs being hit and slapped across the gym before falling to the floors with a coupled thud.

and despite trying his very hardest to focus his mind upon the practice game, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander to you in your bright enormity. his mind was on you, and yet he was playing the game harder than ever with each and every block he endured. perhaps it was the nerves, the aching adrenaline that flowed through his veins at the mere thought of  confessing to you by the time practice ended fueled his fire.

even if this was just a practice game against his own teammates, he was going to win for you and leave the gym with a confident aura enough to give him the guts to walk up to you.

the thing is, the game had already ended before he knew it. his side of the court had won and reached 25 points before he could even blink with the fact that he was in a ready stance even after the whistle had been blown.

“tendou,” ushijima called out to the redhead. “good luck.”

with that, the middle blocker’s head had cleared as he gave a smile to the setter. he walked over his bag, snatching it up and over his shoulder as he grabbed the rolled up poster within his clammy hands.

god, i’m was nervous. he thought to himself as he walked out of that gym.

the loud, boisterous guffaws from the rest of his teammates faded and echoed into oblivion as he walked the opposite way from everyone else. as the rest were going home, it was him who was on his was to your classroom. he had heard from your friend that you had cleaning duties today after school and it was the perfect time to just swallow his pride and just say.

but his actions were definitely faster than his thoughts as he had impulsively slammed the classroom door open without thinking.

you had thrown a shocked glance at the redhead at the sudden harsh action as he had thrown an embarrassed smile at you. chuckling at that adorable look on his face, you quickly set you mop aside. “tendou? what are you doing here? is your practice over already?”

the redhead nods, “yeah, just a couple minutes ago—um, i-uh just wanted to uh—”

he sighed frustratingly. this was the first time that the tendou satori—the third year infamously known for his innate way of speaking to others in such bright confidence for once, had his tongue tied. the reason why was obvious. it was because of you and your beaming eyes and that godforsaken smile of yours that made him go utterly crazy.

he was still trying to find the right words to say when your gaze fell upon the rolled up poster within his shaking hands. “what’s this?” you asked innocently as your hand reached for the poster and took it out of his hands without much force.

“w-wait! that’s—!”

you unrolled the poster, honey glazed your irises as your mouth gaped slightly.

it was you. a painting of you sitting under one of the large trees on one of the campus’s courtyards, sketching who knows what along with tendou’s large handwriting sprayed at the top:

WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME, (Y/N)?

you breath was snatched out of your throat as you flickered your widened eyes up to him. red and pink hues adored tendou’s cheeks and ears, scratching the back of his head as his chestnut eyes refused to meet yours. if he were to look at you then and there, he would immediately melt into a puddle of blossoming cherries.

“did you make this for me?” you asked gently, still absolutely moonstruck at the poster. it was a simple painting that was definitely not drawn entirely by tendou as you could tell your friend had something to do with it, but you couldn’t help but be absolutely astonished that he even went out his way for this. “i love it,” you whispered, capturing tendou’s attention.

“y-you do?” the redhead huffs in disbelief.

tendou was closer to you, more than you were comfortable with, but you didn’t fight it off. you didn’t bother giving a little space between you two. “i was serious when i always thought you were cool. you were the only one out of that group of popular kids to talk to me and was actually nice about it.” you suddenly professed. your consciousness mentally slapped you over and over again from the embarrassment of saying such a thing. and yet, the signal in her mind didn’t releasse itself until the moment you felt your eyes fall upon tendou’s chamomile lips. and to your peachy ones, did tendou even dare to think of the impossible, of the serenity that filled them under your blushing cheeks,

“i really like you, (y/n)... and i have for a while now.” he muttered.

you bit your lip at the sudden downpour of feelings that you didn’t even notice yourself clutching and perhaps accidentally crumpling the poster he made. “me too,” you said in a mere whisper, your gaze flickering back down to the floor. “and to answer your question... yes, i will go out with you, tendou.”

the redhead felt his breath hitch in his throat, pausing with his eyes almost wide and doe-like when he looked at you underneath the last rays of the setting sun. he let’s out a bright chuckle, “cool.” he attempted to act casually only to break the moment he found your embrace.

you gently laughed as it muffled within his chest, “cool.” you repeated.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #437

“you get what you pray for  /  you don’t get anything”

Do you tell your mom and dad everything? No. Who was the last person you talked about something that was bothering you with? Most likely my mom. What’s your favorite musical? I don't like musicals. Who did you last share a taxi with? I've never been in a taxi. If you’ve ever tried drugs or alcohol, what was your reason for first trying it? I've never done drugs, but the first time I drank was actually an accident. I'd come in from a long, hot walk, and I desperately needed water, and Mom offered me what I thought was just pink lemonade. Turns out it was a Mike's Hard Lemonade and I CHUGGED it before everyone around me was like "NOOOO!" because it was alcohol lmaooo. If you were far from home and needed to sleep for the night, would you choose to rent a crappy motel room for $60 or sleep in your car for free? I'm sleeping in my car. I'm afraid of things like bed bugs. Is there a situation where you caved into peer pressure and regretted it? I don't think so? Have you ever rolled off your bed in your sleep? Pretty sure no. What is your favourite planet? Saturn! Do you enjoy Mario games? Not really, honestly. They're just not my style. Mario Kart is fun every now and again, though. What flavor fruity drink is your favorite? Strawberry, in most cases. Ever done a keg stand? No. Who is the last person you lent money to? My mom. Do you have any health problems that are unusual for your age? I have carpal tunnel in my wrists from typing so much, but I'm not sure how "unusual" that is for young adults nowadays... I feel like there's something else, but it's evading me right now. Do you bite your nails? No, I pick/peel at them. :x What’s the longest nap you’ve ever taken? Oh god, hours. To the point it no longer really qualifies as a "nap." When people ask you about school, what is your usual response? Do you enjoy talking about school? Why or why not? I get all awkward and just reply that I gave it numerous shots, but my mental health couldn't handle it. I hate talking about school because I feel like a failure. Do you know how to fill a car’s tire with air? Have you ever had to do it? No to both. Do you like your best friend’s parents? Why or why not? Omg I LOVE them. They are spectacular people with massive hearts. I especially am drawn to her dad, whom I find incredibly inspiring. Both her parents are just great. I miss 'em. What do you like in your hot cocoa - marshmallows, whipped cream, candy canes? Do you even like hot cocoa? I loooove hot chocolate. I really just prefer it plain, but you can toss a few marshmallows in there. Which do you have a problem with: over-eating or under-eating? I'm way more likely to over-eat than under-eat. A girl likes her food lmao. The last boy you kissed, good-looking? He's by no means ugly, but I wasn't physically attracted to him personally. Do you love him? Not romantically, but definitely platonically. Do you like cherry Pepsi? I like cherry Coke. I don't like Pepsi. When was the last time you were given flowers? Ummm... I want to say the last time was many years ago when Tyler visited for the first time when we started dating. What do you want to name your children? I don't want kids. But hypothetically, Alessandra and probably Damien. Would you ever write a letter to someone you haven’t met yet, like your future spouse? No. I'd probably get too emotional anyway. Do you carry a mirror in your purse? No. Do you believe that there is beauty in everything? I've always thought this was such a stupid idea that tries to make reason out of life and its tragedies. Like yeah, cancer, rape, murder, etc. are definitely "beautiful." There is absolutely no beauty in a vast plethora of things. The first time you smoked, did you cough like a fool? I've never smoked before. When you were younger, did you have a Neopets account? Oh, yes. I loooooved Neopets, but not quite as much as Webkinz. I've actually remade a Neopetz account multiple times because I'd forget my info, ha ha... Who was the last person you got in a fist fight with? I've never been in a physical fight. Did you and your mom ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? Not "move out," no. We did, however, have a fight where I stayed with Dad for I want to say a week, maybe a bit less. Do you dislike anyone? Why? Well, yes. I don't know anyone who doesn't dislike somebody. There are a few people, in my case, that I'm not going to spend time going through and pointing out what I don't like. Do you think you will be in a relationship 2 months from now? No. Do you always feel like you’re making mistakes? Like constantly. Does your animal sleep with you? Roman usually does, yeah. Do you have any baby pictures of yourself on your computer? No. Mom has those in photo albums. What kind was the last chip you ate? I want to say traditional Lays? It was at my nephew's bday party. Do you eat onion rings? No, I'm not a fan. What was the last thing to disgust you? I think it was some thumbnail I saw on YouTube, even though it was (weakly) blurred. Where do you see your ex in 5 years? "The" ex, I don't want to think about it. Probably somewhere great for him, but would break my heart if I knew. Do your parents swear? Dad swears big time, while Mom tries to hold it back. You won't hear her say something like "fuck" unless she is SERIOUSLY upset. Do you ever drink warm milk? Warm milk sounds literally disgusting. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? No. I literally just came back from my break from it, so it'd be more funny than anything. The universe's way of telling me "nah, son." Who do you know that wears the most makeup? My friend Summer, but then again she's a cosmetologist. Have you ever had bronchitis? No, thankfully. Jason had it BAD once and I will neeever forget that cough, good Lord. Do you like to wear makeup? I hate applying it more than anything. Like, I love that it can help me feel prettier, but I pretty much never wear it because it's just a pain to put on, especially by myself because I have bad tremors in my hands. How many times have you been to the ER? Way too many times for being suicidal. How often do you feel lonely? Honestly, pretty much always. When are you most uncomfortable? I dunno, man. I'm always uncomfortable about one thing or another. Has anyone ever revealed a secret about you? Not that I remember... Have you ever revealed anyone else’s secret? No, that is such a shitty thing to do. Have you ever had a family member/friend that was hospitalized? Yes. Have you ever been in trouble with the law? No. Is there anything you want to experiment with? I mean, nothing that quickly comes to mind. There are things I want to try, but nothing major. What do you hope happens to you after you die? Mixed feelings. Sometimes I hope there's some sort of nirvana-like state we experience, I think it'd be wonderful to be reunited with loved ones, but I also sometimes think it'd be best if we just... stopped existing. Consciousness just stops. I dunno. I'll find out eventually. What is the most disgusting thing you have seen in person (not on TV)? Probably a maggot-infested deer corpse that I faintly remember from where I used to live. I thought it was the sickest thing ever lmao, in both senses. What is something others make fun of you for? Always holding some sort of technology. Just don't fucking comment on it. It makes me self-conscious as hell. Is your life turning out like you pictured it would? QUITE THE FUCKING OPPOSITE. Do your initials spell out a word? No. Has anyone ever given you roses? Yeah. Last baby you held? My older sister's youngest daughter. Whose wedding were you in the first time you were a bridesmaid or groomsman? My aforementioned sister's. What is something you would never do to your body? I mean, there's a large number of things. There are certain piercings and tattoos I wouldn't dare to get, I plan on taking care of my hair as best I can to avoid ruining it despite wanting to dye it a lot... *shrug* Stuff like that. How are you planning to decorate your house for Halloween? I don't know if we'll decorate. We haven't really for a few years now... I don't have the motivation to do it myself, and now that it's just me and her and I'm grown up (I know, I'm laughing too), Mom doesn't really bother with doing it. I know I DO want to carve pumpkins this year, though. Dunno what, but I'll figure it out. Ever lived in a trailer park? No. Do you like salsa that has fruit in it? NOOOOOOOOOOO Can you count in binary? No. Do you like hard or soft pretzels better? I'll eat both, but I have a strong preference for soft ones. When was the last time someone kissed you on the cheek? Who was it? I'm sure that was either my niece of nephew when I was leaving their house when I last visited for Ryder's birthday. What kind of ice cream did you eat last? Where’d you get it from? It was chocolate. I had a scoop at the aforementioned birthday party. Do you like flowers? What is your favorite kind to receive? I love flowers. I don't have a favorite to receive, really. Have you ever unblocked someone that you blocked before? Yes. Has anyone slapped you across the face before? If so, why? No. Do you prefer to have more or less in common with your significant other? I like to be pretty similar. Would you take a shot of heroin for a million dollars? No. I don't fuck with that, even for that much money. Why don’t you talk to your ex anymore? He wants nothing to do with me. Do you think it is okay to drive while high? Obviously not...? Do you find Halloween or Valentine’s Day more exciting? Halloween. Has anyone you know ever had serious surgery before? Yeah; my mom immediately comes to mind in both instances she had cancer. When she had kidney cancer, the tumor was larger than the kidney itself, and she lost the entire organ. When she had ovarian cancer, she had to have a complete hysterectomy because the cancer was EVERYWHERE along her reproductive system to an almost fatal degree. My mom's pretty metal. If you had the last person you kissed’s Facebook password, would you go snooping through their stuff? Why or why not? No, because that's a violation of privacy? You don't do that shit. Have you ever fainted? If so, when was the last time? If not, have you ever came close to? Yes. The only time that I remember was maaaany years ago, like, maybe '14. I've nearly fainted plenty of times since then for various reasons, but mostly just from low blood pressure. Ever take a keyboarding class? Do you type using the skills you learned in that class or how you used to before you took the class? Yes; I believe one course was mandatory in middle school. I type the proper way, yeah. Ever cut your hair (the entire thing – not just the bangs or a little part) yourself? Noooo. Would you ever open your own business? If so, what kind of business could you imagine yourself having? Well, I'd like to be a freelance photographer, but to be real, I'm starting to loosen up on that dream. It's been too long, I just don't see it happening anymore. Baby steps are one thing, but I've barely managed any of those in forever. Ever meet and talk to someone from an online dating site? No. Would you date someone you weren’t physically attracted to? Why or why not? Yes; I've done it before. I just care way more about emotional chemistry. Besides, historically, me liking someone for their heart has made each person a lot more attractive to me as a whole. Last person to hang up on you? I dunno. What’s your favorite scary movie? The Blair Witch Project. The second one is great, too, plus The Crazies. Which urban legend is your favourite? Oh man, you can't ask me this. I LOVE cryptids and conspiracies 'n shit. Are any of your fears completely irrational? Yes, like whale sharks. A whale shark ain't gonna hurt u boo but I see that mouth and am like no thnx Where is the light switch in your room? Funnily enough, I don't have a light switch; there isn't a ceiling light in this room. I instead have two table lamps that I can turn on on either side of my bed. Would you make a good lawyer? Hell no, I cry when I argue lmao. It's funny tho because I remember in TWO instances, in-depth surveys recommending jobs for you brought up me being a lawyer, and each time I was just like,,,,, no???????? Why did your family decide to live where you’re living now? It was more necessity than anything. Our old house had a LOT of issues to it, and with Mom's cancer diagnosis, she needed the cleanest environment possible, and that was NOT our old place. The house we live in now is owned by a family friend, and when the previous owner died, the timing just... kinda worked out to where that family friend I mentioned helped us pay our way into here. We really don't like this place because of the location, but it had to work. What was the best pet you've ever had? All things considered, I have to hand it to my boy Teddy. That dog was someone special. Very, very special. If you were allowed one murder without punishment, would you do it? Nah. Name one song you can play on an instrument, any instrument! I can probably still slam out "Hot Cross Buns" on a recorder. \m/ Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle? Noooo, I'm scared to. On the opposite sex, do you prefer muscles, average size, or scrawny bodies? It depends on the person, ig. I can be attracted to any of those. Just not EXTREME muscle. Not my thing at all.

[artificialqueens]

Wild Flower, Chapter Eight (Shalaska) 8/11 - Freyja

A/N: helllooooo!!! I just want to say thank you for all of the love this fic has gotten - it’s so motivating and my heart can’t fit inside my chest anymore, you guys. It’s becoming a problem. Thank you to Frey for betaing - she fixed a plot hole singlehandedly. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: this fic wouldn’t be where it is without her. This chapter gave me carpal tunnel (jk - it only finished the job) so y'all better appreciate my labor ;) Hope you’re ready for a whole bunch of feelings! Enjoy the calm before the storm!

Summary: Alaska’s been vulnerable since she came to camp. It’s about time Sharon returns the favor.

🌸

“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.” - D. H. Lawrence

🌸

Alaska is in love.

As she meets Sharon’s eyes in the warm candle light, her heart swells, and she just knows.

She’s never been in love before.

It’s terrifying.

Her heart starts to beat a little faster with the realization, and Alaska can only hope that Sharon doesn’t notice, despite how close they are. Unfortunately, Sharon’s head is resting on her collarbone, and Sharon is nothing if not observant.

“If you’re getting excited for some more,” she says tiredly, “you’re out of luck.”

Luckily, Sharon is also prone to making assumptions.

Alaska lets out a surprised laugh, relieved and calmer for it. She shoves her realization into the back of her mind, just wanting to bask in the moment and keep enjoying the feeling of Sharon’s skin against hers without panicking. “What if I told you I’d leave again?” she drawls.

“That would make you a liar,” Sharon says, and her arms wrap more tightly around Alaska. Alaska’s heart jumps in response, affection bubbling up inside her.

“I guess I won’t, then,” she says, fake pouting, and Sharon laughs.

“I think you’ll live.”

As long as you’re this close, I could live with anything, Alaska thinks, but she only snorts in response, carding her fingers through Sharon’s curls and gently working out the tangles she comes across.

There’s a moment of silence as Alaska works out a particularly big tangle, and Sharon huffs out a laugh through her nose. “I have a comb, you know,” Sharon says drily. Alaska snorts.

“It’s more fun this way. Besides, I’ve never actually seen you use it, wherever it is.”

“Hey! I’m not the one with a rat’s nest sitting on top of my head.”

Alaska gasps in mock anger, barely restraining her smile as she tugs on Sharon’s hair in retribution. “Take that back. It’s your fault it’s even gotten this bad.”

“You’re right,” Sharon says gravely. “I did say I would protect you when things went south.”

“I can reach my gun from here, you know,” Alaska threatens, and Sharon pulls back to laugh at her. Alaska mourns the slight loss of contact, but Sharon’s bright smile makes it worth it. It still gives her butterflies, despite the fact that they’re both half dressed and cuddling.

She would do anything for that smile.

Jesus Christ, she’s in love.

“Here,” Sharon says, sitting up and folding her legs beneath her. Alaska watches her, dismayed and suddenly chilly. They’d slipped their shirts back on, but they’re nothing compared to body heat. “Sit up.”

“It’s too cold for this,” Alaska whines, and she tugs on Sharon’s wrists to make her lie down again. “How are you not shivering?”

“I’m a weatherworn criminal,” Sharon deadpans, and she uses Alaska’s grip on her wrists to pull her up into a sitting position. Alaska lets her, albeit reluctantly. “My skin is practically leather.”

“Please,” Alaska snorts. “You could give the moon a run for its money.”

Sharon raises an eyebrow, barking out a surprised laugh. “Alright, for that you can turn around. I don’t want to look at you anymore.”

Alaska sputters out a laugh. “You can’t hide from the truth, Sharon.”

“I can try,” Sharon says, but she’s smiling, her eyes soft with something Alaska can’t quite put a finger on. “But seriously, turn around. I’m going to braid your hair.”

“Why?” Alaska asks, but she’s already turning, affection once again filling her chest. She hears Sharon grab something off of the crate behind her.

“So that you can’t blame me next time your hair gets fucked,” Sharon tells her, and Alaska feels her shift closer.

“Technically, I can blame you for anything that happens to me in this camp,” Alaska says, but she loses half of the punch when Sharon presses a kiss to the bare part of her shoulder, her breath catching halfway through her sentence.

“I’ll take it,” Sharon says softly, her breath ghosting along Alaska’s neck. Alaska shivers. “As long as you stay.”

“I’m too in l–” Alaska cuts herself off, swallowing her almost-confession along with a bubble of air. She immediately breaks out into a coughing fit, and Sharon’s hands go to her shoulders, steadying her as she hacks.

The idea of leaving seems ludicrous, now. Happiness is here. Freedom is here. The woman she loves is here. She can’t go back because of one of those reasons, and even if she did, she’d lose all three. She can ignore the twinge of guilt she feels when she thinks about her father - god knows he’s screwed her over enough.

She just can’t lose this.

“Jesus,” Sharon says as soon as Alaska is able to suck in air again, tone teasing. She starts finger combing Alaska’s hair, working out the bigger knots fairly painlessly. “Don’t tell me you have consumption.”

Alaska tries very hard not to think of her mother. “Don’t joke about that,” she says, voice quiet. “Please.”

Sharon’s fingers still in her hair, clearly picking up on Alaska’s tone. “Alright,” she says softly. There’s a beat. “Who was it?”

“My mother,” Alaska says stiffly, determined to keep her eyes dry. Sharon resumes combing.

“I had a brother. He was just a baby, so I didn’t know him well, but it was still a tragedy. I can’t imagine a mother.”

“No,” Alaska whispers, her lip trembling a little. “It was hard.”

“Mhm,” Sharon hums, and then she says, “but not as hard as brushing your hair is going to be.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence before a laugh escapes Alaska, the joke strangely healing despite its blunt tone. “For me or for you?”

“You tell me,” Sharon says, a smile in her voice, and then Alaska feels a sharp pain in her scalp as Sharon starts running the brush through her hair.

“Ah, fuck!” she snaps out, clutching her head as Sharon cackles. “Are you fucking trying to hurt me?”

“I had to follow through!”

“I’m going to bed,” Alaska sighs, and she starts to turn around, before Sharon stops her, laughing.

“I’ll be gentle! Please, turn back around. I’ll be nice.”

“Promise?”

“I cross my heart. I hope you’re writing all of these promises down.”

“Oh, I am,” Alaska drawls, turning back around. “And I promise to scream if you do that again.”

“Brat,” Sharon says fondly, and Alaska rolls her eyes.

“Haven’t heard that one before.”

They lapse into silence as Sharon resumes brushing, working out the knots relatively painlessly and pressing her lips against Alaska’s shoulder in silent apology when there’s a particularly hard tug. Alaska finds herself relaxing by increments, Sharon’s rhythmic breathing and the feeling of fingers in her hair making her eyelids heavier and heavier.

“Done,” Sharon says quietly, breaking the comfortable silence they’d fallen into. “I almost don’t want to braid it - it looks so pretty just like this.”

Alaska hums as Sharon combs her fingers through her hair, raking her nails across her scalp as she moves down. She finds herself leaning into the touch, letting her eyes close.

“I think we can forgo the braid,” she murmurs, and Sharon laughs.

“You’re awfully comfortable.”

“You’re comfortable,” Alaska says, and she falls back the rest of the way against Sharon, smiling as Sharon’s arms immediately wrap around her, holding fast. They sit in silence for a moment, both growing tired, and it allows Alaska’s mind to wander a little.

She is, strangely, comfortable.

The moment she’d come back to herself after that miraculous twist of Sharon’s fingers, Sharon collapsing next to her and grinning from ear to ear, she’d panicked, a mantra of what the fuck have I just done running through her mind as her heart pounded in her ears. She’d felt wrong - like she’d just misbehaved, and she would be caught and punished at any moment.

But then, Sharon had put a hand on her cheek, drawing her into another kiss, and all of the tension had left her body.

“Alaska,” she’d breathed, and Alaska suddenly didn’t care about anything that wasn’t the woman in front of her.

It’s become abruptly easier to push away the thoughts of her father, of society, of responsibility. Things feel natural with Sharon - right, in a way Alaska has never felt in her life. She’s going to bask in it for as long as she can, even as her heart starts to pound again the longer she thinks about it.

“Do you feel safe?” Sharon asks suddenly, jerking Alaska out of her thoughts.

Alaska frowns, a little disoriented. “What?”

“I just - you almost died today, and all I did was yell. I want to know if you still - if you still feel safe.”

“Sharon–”

“I don’t want to ruin what we have. If I’ve already done it–”

“Sharon,” Alaska says again, tone more pointed. “I’m in your lap right now. How do you think I feel?”

Sharon huffs a small laugh, but there’s no joy in it. Clearly, Alaska hadn’t been the only one getting into her thoughts.

There’s a long stretch of silence as Alaska thinks, desperate for a way to let Sharon know that her thoughts had been straying towards just the opposite when she first brought it up.

“I think this is the safest I’ve ever felt,” Alaska eventually murmurs, and it’s true. Her father was distant, cold, unfeeling - he flung her at suitors full of false charm and predatory leers. Her friends came and went, marrying off and laughing about the fact that she hadn’t.

It’s hard to feel safe when no one even cares whether you are or not.

“Good,” Sharon whispers, sounding relieved. Her arms tighten around Alaska. “Good.”

“Good,” Alaska says, and then her stomach growls. “Dinner?”

Sharon laughs.

🌸

They go to bed early that night, but Alaska sleeps for what feels like five minutes before she’s shaken awake again. She is more than a little irritated.

She groans, and she only grows angrier when she cracks her eyes open to darkness, the moon still shining through the canvas of the tent. “Sharon, this had better be–”

“Alaska?”

Alaska sits straight up at the strange desperation in Sharon’s voice, worry flooding her body and annoyance fleeing in its wake. She turns to find Sharon staring at her like she’s just seen a ghost, her hair mussed and her cheeks streaked with tear tracks. Alaska’s heart spikes with fear at the sight of her.

“Sharon?” she asks, her tone a little too loud with her worry, and Sharon’s hand clenches where it still lingers on Alaska’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

Sharon slumps in what looks like relief, breathing in a little. She looks like she isn’t all there. “You’re alright?”

Alaska tenses - was somebody hurt? “Of course I’m alright,” Alaska says, frowning as her panic rises, hundreds of scenarios popping into her head. She grabs Sharon’s wrist, where her hand is on Alaska’s arm. “Is everyone okay? Did Phi Phi escape?”

Her question seems to break Sharon out of whatever state she’d been in, and a strange series of expressions flickers across her face, the strange look in her eyes fading as she looks around the tent. She takes in another breath, her expression finally settling on a small frown. “Oh.”

Alaska squeezes her wrist urgently. “‘Oh’? What does that mean?”

“It means I’m an idiot,” Sharon snaps out suddenly, and Alaska lets go of her wrist in surprise. Sharon’s face softens, and she chases Alaska’s hand in apology. “Sorry. Everyone’s alright.”

Alaska stares at her, confused. “Then why–” she cuts herself off, realization crashing down on her like a wave. It’s her turn to feel like an idiot. “You had a nightmare.”

Sharon snorts, her eyes on the ground. “Told you there’s a reason Jinkx sleeps in Morgan’s tent and not mine,” she jokes weakly. She’s clearly embarrassed, and it’s strange to see - she’d never seen Sharon anything close to embarrassed, even after she’d punched Alaska in the nose that first night.

Maybe, Alaska thinks, because she had just that to distract from herself from what she was really ashamed of.

“You can’t tell me Jinkx was bothered by this enough to leave,” Alaska says, and Sharon raises an eyebrow.

“Who said it was her decision?”

Alaska frowns, her heart breaking a little. She wouldn’t believe Sharon kicking Jinkx out, either, if it weren’t for the clear defensive edge in her eyes. “Alright,” she says carefully, wary of pushing too far. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sharon hesitates. “No.”

Alaska squeezes her hand, fighting back the urge to pull Sharon and her tear-stained cheeks closer. “Sharon–”

“I said no.”

“Can I–”

“It has nothing to do with you, Alaska, so just drop it.”

Hurt flashes through Alaska at her tone. “Considering the way you woke me up, I’d say it has at least something to do with me.”

Sharon blushes, glaring. “It wasn’t about you,” she amends. “Things just got - jumbled.”

“What things?” Alaska asks, and Sharon’s eyes flick behind her. Alaska turns - there’s nothing but the set of drawers.

“Please, Alaska,” Sharon says, sounding more tired than angry, and when Alaska turns back around, the expression in her eyes evokes a kind of sadness that resonates too deeply within Alaska. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

Alaska wants to know. She wants to know so badly. She wants to be able to talk that look out of Sharon’s eyes, to know what makes this woman tick, what could possibly affect her this badly. She almost wants to get angry about it - wants to throw Sharon’s lack of trust in her face and force the answers out of her that way. But she doesn’t want to force Sharon to give her anything - that was the point. She wants Sharon to trust her, and something tells her that getting angry when she doesn’t share her darkest fears won’t make that happen.

Still, a question burns at the tip of her tongue, and she can’t help but give into it. “Was it about today?” she asks, voice quiet. Was it about me dying?

“A little,” Sharon says stiffly. “I-” her voice breaks, and Alaska is horrified when her face crumples a little. “I don’t want to talk about it.” She sounds frustrated and close to tears, and guilt swirls in Alaska’s stomach.

“You don’t have to,” she says, voice quiet.

“You’d hate me if I did,” Sharon whispers, and shock runs through Alaska like lightning.

“I wouldn’t,” she says, even as doubt nibbles at the back of her mind. What if Sharon had done something truly horrible? “You couldn’t make me hate you.” Alaska sucks in a breath as the words escape her, far too close to a confession of love.

Sharon sucks in a shaky breath, breaking eye contact to look at the streak of moonlight on the floor. “Well,” she says, making an attempt to sound normal. It’s not working. “I’m not willing to test that right now. Let’s just - let’s just sleep.”

Alaska swallows back her desire to keep pushing, and she nods instead, mirroring Sharon as she lies back down. “Come here,” she says softly, and Sharon frowns a little.

“What?”

“I just want to – let me hold you,” Alaska says, begging Sharon with her eyes. Concern is still welling up in her throat, and the desire to do something to help, anything to help, is overwhelming. Cuddling, her gut is telling her, will definitely help. “I want to hold you.”

Sharon looks at her for a moment longer before her expression softens into surprised appreciation. “Alright,” she says slowly, and she allows Alaska to wrap her arms around her, burying her face into Alaska’s collarbone.

A sudden surge of protectiveness washes over Alaska, and she tightens her arms around Sharon in an effort to relieve it. She can’t imagine what Sharon might have done - the other woman’s reaction is frightening, but Alaska can’t imagine it to be worse than what she’d done to Solomon’s gang.

It must be, though, if Sharon feels this guilty about it, and Alaska’s stomach dips at the thought.

She lies awake for a long time, pretending not to feel Sharon’s body shake with silent sobs.

🌸

When Alaska opens her eyes again, late morning sunlight is drifting in with the loosened tent flap, there are dried tear tracks pulling at the skin on her cheeks, and Sharon is gone.

She isn’t surprised - Sharon is an early riser, and Alaska is the opposite. It’s not unusual for her to wake up alone in the tent, but now she finds herself resenting it, disappointment a nagging feeling in her chest. She’s usually grateful for the chance to be alone - but now, all she wants is to see Sharon again.

She pulls on her boots, further motivated by the smell of food, and when she goes to tie her hair back, she grins at the lack of knots - it won’t last long, but for now, it reminds her of Sharon and the warm glow of their tent.

The thought makes Alaska’s breath catch. When the hell did she start thinking of this tent as ‘theirs’?

She looks around, taking in the dusty crates, the rumpled blankets, the patched holes in the canvas roof. When she’d first seen this tent, she’d laughed at the shabbiness of it, the whole thing feeling bare bones and dirty. Now, it feels familiar, lived in, safe - something she’d only felt when her mother filled the household with smiles and hugs.

The feeling scares something within Alaska, and she ducks out of the tent quickly, a little shaken.

She’s decided to stay, but it had been for Sharon, for what she now knows is love. She hadn’t expected to belong further than that, and as she creeps closer to that anyway, she finds that she had been taking a certain kind of comfort in it. She isn’t quite like these women - she’s civilized, moral - better. What does it mean if she feels truly at home here?

This thought scares her as well, and she shoves it into the back of her mind, taking a deep breath. She’s just been here long enough to form an attachment, that’s all.

Alaska finds Sharon by the fire, grinning and laughing with Alyssa and Morgan, who still looks sharp even with a smile on her face. Alaska is relieved to see it - she’d been worried out of her mind last night, the terror in Sharon’s eyes haunting her own dreams, and it’s comforting to see Sharon bounce back from what had looked like paralyzing fear.

Alaska tells herself that it’s not an act.

As she approaches the women, however, new doubts start to trickle into her mind.

How is she supposed to behave? Her instincts tell her that they should be hiding their relationship - this is a relationship, right? Can two women-? - but Katya clearly hadn’t had a problem with Trixie. Does Sharon resent her for pushing last night? Does she even want to see her right now? Doe–

“Lasky!” Sharon exclaims, finishing the distance between Alaska and the firepit and giving her a wide smile. “Good morning!”

She takes Alaska’s face in her hands, and she kisses her.

It’s only a small kiss, and she’s gone before Alaska can really reciprocate, but it still makes her stomach flutter with pleasure, and the feeling only grows when Sharon doesn’t let go of her hand. Then, she remembers that they have an audience.

She snaps her gaze over to Alyssa and Morgan, her stomach dropping like an anchor, fearing the worst: disgust, aggression, fear. She gets none of it - in fact, they seem unfazed, Alyssa smiling like a mother does on her daughter’s wedding day, and Morgan not even watching.

Sharon follows her gaze, frowning. “Is there something wrong?”

“No,” Alaska says, stunned. She feels weightless, like a huge burden has suddenly been lifted off of her shoulders. “Nothing.”

“If you say so,” Sharon says, still looking concerned, but she tugs Alaska towards the firepit anyway, the exchange clearly over.

“Alyssa was just telling us about how she got ‘discovered’,” Morgan says, raising a pointed eyebrow and cradling a cup of coffee. “And I say ‘discovered’ like that because–”

“Because it was more like she put herself up for adoption,” Sharon finishes, and Alyssa gapes at the two of them, offended.

“I’ll have you know I was sought after by the biggest showman in the West,” she says stiffly. She pauses to gently hand Alaska a bowl of what looks like boiled oats. “There’s sugar somewhere around here, sweetie,” she tells her, and then she’s rounding on Sharon again. “P.T. Barnum himself came knocking on my door!”

“And I’m sure there’s a reason you weren’t traveling around with P.T. Barnum when I found you?”

“I had loyalties,” Alyssa sniffs. “I couldn’t just leave Charles, I’m not cold hearted.”

“You seemed to have no problem with leaving when I asked you to.”

“Girl, I was old when I met you!” Alyssa laughs. “I was ready to retire anyway.”

“Please, you’re hardly old,” Sharon says, mischief twinkling in her eyes. “Showbusiness just ages you faster.”

“Rude!” Alyssa cries, but it’s clearly in good humor. “And right after I just fed y’all!”

“Hey, don’t loop me in with this,” Morgan says, and Alyssa waves her away.

“Don’t think I don’t know who Sharon was smiling at,” she says. “And Alaska’s not at the right angle.”

“Me?” Morgan repeats, mock innocence oozing out of her.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t Phi Phi,” Sharon says, and the four women fall silent, glancing behind Morgan towards the post, where Phi Phi sits, slumped over and silent.

“She’s awful quiet,” Alyssa says, a little muted herself. “Are you sure–”

“I’m sure,” Sharon says, and it’s clear that they’d discussed it at least a little before Alaska had woken up. “This has to be a set up. I don’t care how well Phi Phi can act - she’s going to stay here until she tells us what’s really going on.”

“When are you going to interrogate her?” Morgan asks, expression serious.

“Right now,” Sharon says, and as she stands, Alaska mirrors her.

“I’m coming with you,” she says, and Sharon raises an eyebrow.

“Are you?” she asks, and Alaska nods.

“I’m the reason she’s here,” she says, firm in her resolution. She will see this through - she’s still invested in the idea of a peace treaty, and the fact that Phi Phi hasn’t let it go is enough to make hope bubble back up in her chest. If they manage to end this without any more blood spilt… “I want to see how this goes.”

There’s a gleam of pride in Sharon’s eyes as she appraises her, and Alaska’s heart swells at it, pleased. “Good enough for me,” Sharon says, and then she starts towards the post, Alaska close behind, her heart pounding with anticipation and no small thrill running through her at the thought of interrogation, childhood games swimming through her memories.

“Phi Phi O’Hara,” Sharon greets as they near the pole, stopping at Phi Phi’s outstretched feet. She doesn’t, Alaska notices, crouch down so that they’re at eye level. That must have just been a part of her own, special, treatment.

“Oh, so you can see me,” Phi Phi says bitterly, glaring up at Sharon. She sounds hoarse, and she has to licks her lips before she speaks. It takes Alaska far too long to realize it’s because she hasn’t had water since before their altercation.

“It is hard to look at you,” Sharon says, unimpressed. “But yes, I can.”

“Fuck off, Needles.”

“Not until you tell me what yesterday was really about.”

“I have,” Phi Phi sneers. “It’s your own hang ups that are keeping you from believing us.”

“Can you fucking blame me?” Sharon snaps, the previous calm in her voice fading in favor of hot anger. “After what Solomon did–”

“He didn’t pretend to be anything he wasn’t,” Phi Phi shoots back.

“Which is a liar.”

“Not with this!”

“If you don’t tell me–”

“What, you’ll use one of these pokers?” Phi Phi jerks her head towards the bucket of metal fire pokers near the post, and Alaska’s heart stops at the sight of them, the fear she’d felt when Sharon had tied her up suddenly a fresh memory.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Sharon says, and Alaska’s breath catches.

“Is that true?” she asks, before she can stop herself, and Sharon shoots her a look.

“If you don’t–”

“Sharon!”

Sharon falls silent at the call, frowning at something just behind Alaska, and Alaska turns to find Jinkx sprinting up the hill towards them from the entrance to camp, where her horse still stands, untethered in her rush to get to Sharon.

Alaska’s stomach dips fearfully at the sight.

“Jesus,” Sharon mutters, and Alaska follows her as she rushes down the hill to meet Jinkx, who’s already out of breath.

“What is it?” Sharon asks, worry clear in her voice as she reaches Jinkx, who grabs her hand. Alaska ignores the spark of jealousy she feels at the sight.

“I ran into Raja in town - she just got word–”

“Word?” Sharon asks quickly.

“It’s Kameron Michaels. She got caught in Honard, and now she’s on death row.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Sharon breathes, and Alaska can see her hand tighten around Jinkx’s. “When?”

“Two days from now. They want to do it quickly - the mayor supposedly wants to clear more space in the jail for bounties.”

“Fuck,” Sharon hisses. “I’ll have to leave now.”

“And do what?” Jinkx cries. “Advocate for her to the jury?”

“Of course not,” Sharon snaps. “I’ll break her out.”

Jinkx stares at her. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, I’m doing it.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m the leader–”

“And I’m the only one with sense around here!” Jinkx cries, clearly distressed. Alaska is inclined to agree with her - this feels like an enormous risk, and she doesn’t want Sharon to take it. Whatever this Kameron person did, she must deserve the quick sentence - the police hardly did it in New York.

“I owe it to her, Jinkx,” Sharon says after a beat, voice quiet with urgency. “It’s the fucking least I can do.”

There’s a long stretch of silence in which Jinkx visibly searches for a comeback, and ultimately fails. “I’m not going to convince you, am I?” she asks tiredly, slumping.

“Not when it comes to this,” Sharon says, her voice soft with sympathy. “I have to. There’s no other option.”

Alaska watches the exchange, her heart rate picking up. The idea of Sharon leaving is terrifying - she doesn’t want to be alone at camp, no matter how kind Jinkx has proven herself to be, and she certainly doesn’t want Sharon to leave and never come back.

Jinkx clearly feels the same way, and it’s with some severity that she says, “Well, I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Sharon says.

“No?” Jinkx repeats, surprised.

“If I’m gone, you’re the only one I can leave in charge. Besides, you can’t shoot for shit.”

“You’re not going alone,” Jinkx says stubbornly, and Sharon raises an eyebrow.

“And who would you suggest I bring? Morgan still can’t ride a fucking horse.”

“Detox,” Jinkx shoots back. “She’s always been sensible in things like this.”

“Detox tore her stitches for the third time yesterday,” Sharon says drily. “Sensibility won’t get her anywhere if she’s too busy bleeding out.”

Jinkx scowls. “Willam.”

“Willam has wanted posters up everywhere,” Sharon points out. “I’m pretty sure my mother had a framed picture of her.”

“You have wanted posters everywhere!” Jinkx exclaims, incredulous. “You can’t even go into Coady! And Coady doesn’t care if you’ve murdered the county sheriff!”

“I - well,” Sharon says, stumbling. “I’m going. One wanted woman is enough - two is just asking for trouble.”

“I guess that gets rid of our resident celebrity,” Jinkx mutters, glancing back at Alyssa. “Katya, then. No one cares about another European immigrant - they’re a dime a dozen.”

“I’m not taking the only person who knows how to stitch up a wound,” Sharon says quickly, and Jinkx’s lips tighten.

“I would argue that you’re going to need her more,” she says, worry creating a new edge to her voice, and Sharon shakes her head.

“It’s not happening,” she says, and Jinkx huffs in frustration, tears coming to her eyes.

“You’re not going alone,” she says. “I don’t care if you think we need Katya more, you’re not going to sneak someone you’ve met a grand total of three times out of a jail cell by yourself.”

Alaska tunes out Sharon’s response, her mind racing. She can’t convince her to stay, not when she doesn’t know anything about anything, it seems, and if Jinkx can’t convince her to take anyone, Alaska certainly can’t. Maybe if one of the girls volunteered themselves, Sharon would have a harder time–

Wait.

“I’ll go,” Alaska says, interrupting a heated response from Sharon and earning two sets of wide eyes staring at her.

“What?” Jinkx says, and Alaska nods, resolution building in her gut.

“I’ll go,” she repeats, voice a little louder. “No one knows who I am - they won’t even think twice when they see me. And I’m decent with a gun.”

Sharon snorts a disbelieving laugh at that, but Jinkx frowns at her, expression considering. “You’re sure?” she asks, and Alaska nods.

“I’m going.”

Sharon shakes her head, her expression sobering as Jinkx raises an eyebrow at her. “No. It’s too dangerous - she can’t shoot, she doesn’t know what she’s doing, and she fucked up the last little adventure she went on!”

“Please,” Alaska says, a little hurt. “The plan isn’t to shoot anyone, right?”

“That’s what you said last time,” Sharon says sharply. “Shit happens.”

“Well, fuck me if I want to make sure you’re alright!” Alaska snaps, and Sharon’s face softens slightly.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” she says, voice still hard. “This is more than robbing a carriage full of unarmed people - these are armed men with an active agenda against me, and I’m going right into the bear’s den. You’re not going.”

“Exactly,” Jinkx cuts in, before Alaska can shoot an answer back. “And if you get hurt, I want someone there who can get you the fuck away before anything worse happens.”

Alaska’s stomach bottoms out at the thought, and she doubles down on her stance. She can’t control Sharon, but she can control how much she can help keep her from getting hurt. She’s going.

Something must show on her face, because Sharon falls silent, rolling her lips between her teeth. It’s when she pinches the bridge of her nose that Alaska knows she’s giving in.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sharon says, irritated. She glares at the two of them. “You two aren’t allowed to talk to each other anymore.”

“Oh, thank you lord Jesus,” Jinkx breathes, and Alaska feels relief break over her, soothing her worry at least somewhat.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you come,” Sharon says, glancing at Alaska with concern. “Fuck.”

“I’ll be fine,” Alaska says, and she slides her fingers between Sharon’s, her heart beating a little faster as she initiates the contact. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to this freedom. “We’ll have each other.”

Sharon squeezes her fingers, still looking wary despite the small smile she gives Alaska. “At least there’s that.”

🌸

“I didn’t think Colorado got this hot,” Alaska whines, draping herself dramatically over Peaches’ neck. “I can’t believe you packed four blankets.”

“Enjoy it while you can,” Sharon says from beside her, raising her eyebrows. “You’ll be longing for it once the sun sets and we’re freezing our tits off.”

They’d left around four hours ago, and the late afternoon sunlight has them in what feels like an oven, the dry air only making the sun’s beams that much hotter. Katya had once again lent Alaska her hat, providing her with some shade, but that was the extent of mercy she’d been given - the rest of her is soaked with sweat, and she’s pretty sure she’ll have sunburn by the time they stop for rest.

It takes two days to get to Honard. Alaska just might die of heatstroke before they get to the actual danger.

“You’re one to talk,” Alaska says bitterly. “You’re not even sweating.”

“I think you’ve forgotten that my skin is leather,” Sharon says, and Alaska snorts.

“And I think you’ve forgotten that joke isn’t funny,” she says, and Sharon laughs. Alaska smiles at the sound - it makes the heat tolerable.

“Most of my jokes aren’t,” Sharon says. “You’ll have to get used to it.”

“Easier said than done,” Alaska says drily.

Sharon snorts. “I don’t think– hold on,” she says, voice suddenly wary.

She abruptly pulls Cerrone off the road, and Alaska follows, her heart already thumping against her ribcage. She looks ahead to see someone heading towards them on the road, but from the looks of him, it isn’t anyone dangerous. She frowns, pulling up to walk by Sharon’s side once again.

“What is it?” she asks, eyes still on the man. “I don’t think he’s a cop.”

“He probably isn’t,” Sharon says, but her tone is still very much serious. “But I still don’t want him to see our faces. Lower your hat.”

Alaska obeys, still frowning. If he isn’t a cop–

Bounties, she realizes, as Sharon pulls her own hat lower. Even a poor farmer - maybe especially a poor farmer - would seize the chance to catch a bounty if it was sitting right in front of them.

As they near the man, neither slowing in pace, Alaska holds her breath.

They pass with little fanfare, each raising a silent hand in greeting, and Alaska lets out the breath she’d been holding, relief sending goosebumps down her arms. She ignores the frown the man had given Sharon - women riding alone is unusual, after all.

Wishful thinking, as you know, is useless when it comes to danger.

“Hey, wait!” the man says, and Alaska’s heart stops. “Aren’t you-?”

“Go!” Sharon snarls, and she digs her heels into Cerrone’s sides. Alaska is close behind her, keeping pace as they fly across the barren hills, mountains seemingly stagnant beside them.

A gunshot echoes off the mountains, startling the horses, and Alaska knows that they’re being chased. It’s utterly terrifying, and she digs her heels even harder into Peaches’ sides despite the horse already going as fast as she can.

“Fuck!” Sharon hisses as a bullet bursts into the dirt right beside her, sending Cerrone into a frenzy, and she suddenly stops, Alaska speeding past her before she’s even realized what’s happened.

A third gunshot echoes, and Alaska feels the blood drain from her face, her heart in her throat as she yanks on Peaches’ reins, adrenaline giving her more strength than she would have had otherwise.

By the time she gets Peaches to slow, turning her around despite her own instinct to just keep running, she finds Sharon swinging off of a nervous Cerrone, revolver in hand. The man lies on the ground, clutching his leg as his own horse flees, leaving a trail of dirt in its wake.

Alaska’s stomach dips as she realizes what Sharon is about to do.

“Sharon!” Alaska shouts, sliding down from her saddle and sprinting towards the other woman, feeling much faster with the adrenaline running through her. “Don’t!”

“Don’t what?” Sharon snaps, whirling around. Alaska eyes the man, but he seems too busy trying to staunch the bleeding in his leg to raise his gun again. “Do exactly what he was just trying to do to me?”

“He’s no one, Sharon,” Alaska says, reaching Sharon and grabbing her wrists. Sharon jerks away, clearly furious, but Alaska holds fast. “He’s taken care of. You made a promise.”

“Please,” the man says, tears of pain streaming down his face. “I just needed the money. Nothin’ personal.”

“Nothing personal?” Sharon says incredulously, and Alaska shoots the man a warning look. He doesn’t seem to get it.

“I have a wife. Children.”

“Do you have valuables?” Sharon sneers.

Alaska relaxes somewhat - Sharon seems to be backing down. Alaska doesn’t know what she would do if Sharon hadn’t listened to her - hadn’t kept her word.

The man squeezes his eyes shut, sweat streaming down his face. “Please, I–”

“Because I want to take something from you,” Sharon tells him, voice dangerously low, “and the other option is your life.”

“Yes! Yes, I have somethin’! Please, don’t shoot me,” he says desperately, and he grabs something around his neck, snapping the chain and hurling it at Alaska. His hand immediately goes back to his thigh.

Alaska picks the locket up from the dirt, ignoring the blood stuck to it and sticking it into Sharon’s hand. “It’s a locket,” she says, and Sharon’s face flickers strangely.

“This is it, huh?” Sharon says, her voice suddenly a lot quieter.

“It’s all I have,” the man says. “There’s a picture of my family in there - please, I’m sure you don’t want it, and it’s the only–”

“Here,” Sharon says, anger suddenly cooled, and to Alaska’s shock, she tosses the necklace back at the man. It bounces off of his chest. “Keep it. It’s worthless.”

“It’s worth something, I swear!” the man says, growing more distressed. “Please don’t–”

“I won’t kill you, Jesus!” Sharon snaps, and the man falls silent. Sharon looks at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Alaska holds her breath.

“Consider this a warning,” Sharon finally says, and Alaska lets out the breath she’d been holding. Sharon starts back towards Cerrone, that strange expression still on her face. Alaska follows silently, burning with questions and casting the man one last glance. He seems too surprised to speak.

Alaska feels the same, the sudden deescalation making the air seem unsteady and strange. Was this because of her? Maybe the lack of killing, but not the strange mood shift. It had to have been the locket, which–

The locket Alaska had found suddenly comes to mind, and the same questions suddenly worm their way back into Alaska’s mind as she mounts Peaches, the eyes of the woman in the picture holding secrets Alaska is dying to know.

That locket means something, and she intends to find out what.

“Why?” she asks Sharon, as they start moving again, leaving the man behind to figure out a way to get back home without his horse. Alaska can’t bring herself to feel guilty. A dark part of her even suggests that Sharon should have taken the locket anyway, as a form of some retribution - she finds that without the fear that Sharon will kill anyone, anger burns inside her, as well, a desire for vengeance.

She ignores the feeling.

For a moment, Sharon looks like she’s going to fling a barb at Alaska, before she suddenly slumps, looking tired. “I made a promise. You said I was better than murder,” she says, and Alaska startles at the reminder. “And you were right. I’m glad I didn’t kill him.”

It’s not the whole truth, but Alaska doesn’t dare to push for more. Not when Sharon’s looking at her with that unreadable expression, a glowing warmth filling her chest. She’d kept her word. Alaska loves her.

“I’m glad you didn’t either.”

🌸

“Fire really is man’s greatest invention,” Alaska sighs as the pile of dead brush Sharon’s been messing with for fifteen minutes finally catches, reaching her hands out to the warmth of the small flame. The night had brought a bitter chill along with it, and after around an hour of riding in it and several slices of dried meat, Sharon had decided to call it a day.

“Well, a woman made this one,” Sharon says, and Alaska rolls her eyes.

“Have you ever actually picked up a book?”

“I know how to read, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not, but that’s good to know.”

“Wealthy people are the only ones with time to read, anyway.”

“Tell that to Jinkx,” Alaska snorts.

“Fine. Jinkx and wealthy people are the only ones with time to read,” Sharon amends, an amused smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. “I read a lot as a kid, though.”

Alaska immediately perks up at the mention of Sharon’s past, and she suddenly doesn’t know how to reply - she doesn’t want to accidentally make Sharon close off again. “You did?” she goes with, just to be safe.

“All the time. It was all I ever did,” Sharon laughs, leaning back on her hands to look at the fire. “My mother hated me.”

“Mine did too,” Alaska says, unable to help the crooked smile that crawls across her face. “Although it was more about playing in the dirt than reading books. She would have loved it if I were a little more studious.”

“Jesus, I wasn’t studious,” Sharon snorts. “I read Little Women and thought I could do whatever I wanted.”

“And now you can. Looks like your wish came true,” Alaska teases, but Sharon’s smile fades.

“Not in the way that I’d wanted.”

They lapse into silence, and Alaska stares into the fire, thousands of questions burning on her tongue. This is her chance to ask one - she just has to make sure it’s the right one. She itches to probe more into Sharon’s childhood, into what went wrong and why she’s here, but Sharon’s skittish defense everytime Alaska brings up her past outside of being an outlaw has Alaska hesitating.

She risks a glance at Sharon, who appears deep in thought, a slight crease between her brows and her eyes far away. Alaska scoots a little closer. Maybe she’ll ask something safe, first, to test the waters.

“What did Kameron do for you?” she asks softly.

Sharon blinks like she’s confused, looking over at Alaska with a frown on her face. “What?”

“You mentioned owing her,” Alaska says, trying not to get irritated. It’s not like Sharon is acting clueless on purpose. “What do you owe her for?”

A strange expression crosses Sharon’s face. “Nothing.”

“Nothing,” Alaska repeats, voice flat.

“I’ve only met her a few times,” Sharon elaborates, “and two of those involved a couple of drinks at a bar and nothing else. The other was a funeral. She hasn’t done anything for me, and I certainly haven’t done anything for her.” Her tone suddenly grows bitter, and unease swirls in Alaska’s stomach as an unpleasant idea comes to mind.

“You didn’t - you didn’t do anything to her, did you?”

There’s a long pause. “No,” Sharon says finally, but there’s a strange lack of conviction in her tone.

There’s another long pause in which Alaska waits for her to continue, but as it becomes evident that she never will, irritation pops in her chest like a bubble.

“You have to give me more than that,” she says, abruptly louder, and Sharon jumps a little. “Sharon, this is ridiculous.”

Sharon sits up, a warning expression on her face. “What is?”

“Are you kidding me?” Alaska cries. “All I know about you is that you used to read and you have a baby brother buried somewhere! And both of those were unprompted!”

“Maybe that should tell you something about asking, then!”

“I doubt you’re going to give me your life’s story unprompted, Sharon!”

“I don’t have to give you my life’s story,” Sharon snaps, a familiar defensiveness creeping in on the edges of her expression. “You don’t want it, no matter how much you think you do.”

“I do want it,” Alaska says earnestly, grabbing Sharon’s hands. “I want to know everything there is to know about you. I want to know where you came from, what you like, what you hate, why you act the way you do - I love you, Sharon, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence, and realization dawns on Alaska as she stares into Sharon’s shocked face. “Um - I mean – I just got a little– I just meant–”

“I’ll tell you,” Sharon says, and then she takes in a deep breath, like she hadn’t meant to say it. Alaska stares at her, her face still warm.

“You’ll tell me?”

“I–” Sharon cuts herself off, and her hands squeeze Alaska’s briefly. “I’ll tell you. Just - just promise me that you’ll say it again when I’m done.”

“I will,” Alaska says without hesitation, and Sharon looks her in the eyes, her expression strange. It takes Alaska a moment to realize that she’s afraid.

“Promise,” she says, and Alaska nods, her heartbeat quickening. What the hell could Sharon possibly be so afraid of?

“I promise,” Alaska says. “I promise I’ll still love you.” She can’t truly promise this, but she prays that she can hold to it. Her love suddenly feels so strong, so powerful - she feels like she would break down mountains with her bare hands for the woman in front of her.

She can hold to it.

Sharon swallows audibly, and as she begins, her hands squeeze Alaska’s so tightly that she’s afraid she’ll have bruises once Sharon lets go. She can’t bring herself to care, Sharon’s story the only thing she can focus on.

“It all has to do with Chad,” Sharon starts, voice a little shaky. “Chad Michaels. She saved me.” Sharon takes another breath. “She’s so goddamn entangled in my life - nothing will make sense unless I start at the beginning.”

She stops, clearly hesitant. Alaska hums in encouragement, and Sharon’s eyes drop down to the ground as she continues.

“I got married when I was eighteen. He was a well known banker in our town and he asked my parents for my hand before he even asked me.”

Alaska shouldn’t be surprised to hear that Sharon had been married - it’s nearly unavoidable. But some part of her had thought Sharon to be above it all, had thought that she had been the woman sitting in front of her since the day she was born. That idea is starting to crumble, now.

“My family needed help - we had too many bad years to recover very well. So, I married him, and I moved into his house. It was fine for a week, but I guess the idea of a ‘headstrong woman’ grew less attractive the longer we were together,” Sharon says, expression growing dark. “It got to the point where he would hit me if I spoke first. He wouldn’t listen when I said–” Sharon stops, clearly overwhelmed and breathing heavily.

Alaska blinks away her tears, her own breathing quickening. “Sharon,” she says quietly, suddenly sick to her stomach. “Sharon, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” Sharon says, voice growing stronger. “I’m going to.”

Alaska doesn’t know if she wants it any longer, every word of Sharon’s feeling like a knife twisting in her chest, but she nods. She asked for this, and if Sharon wants to stop, she can.

“Things were bad,” Sharon sums up, and Alaska lets out a watery laugh.

“Sounds like an understatement.”

Sharon cracks a small smile, and Alaska nearly cries with relief at the sight of it. “That’s because it is,” she says, letting out a breath.

“Did you ever report him?” Alaska asks, anger slowly making its way into her chest the longer she looks at Sharon’s face. She wants vengeance on this man she’s never met - Sharon has to have wanted it more.

Sharon’s eyebrow twitches strangely. “No,” she says, after a moment. “I never did.”

“Why not?” Alaska asks, beginning to get worked up. “He was - you just took it?”

Guilt instantly spikes in her stomach at the hurt in Sharon’s expression, and she scrambles to remove it. “No,” she amends quickly, tightening her grip on Sharon’s hands before she can pull them away. “You wouldn’t have if you didn’t have to. I’m sorry. He just–”

“Deserves to fucking rot in hell?” Sharon snorts, voice bitter. “I know. But life isn’t fair.”

“How did you get out, then? Did you run?”

“It was Chad,” Sharon says, her lips curling into a small smile at the name. “She - I was with Lucas for a year. He would send me out to the general store for tobacco pretty often, and it was there that I met Chad. I don’t remember how, but we started talking, and she somehow figured out what was going on. I think she asked one question about it and I immediately started crying in the store like some child.” Sharon laughs. “She was clearly different - she was wearing pants and she had a gun stuck to her hip. She invited me to leave town with her. I accepted. She even offered to kill Lucas for me, but I told her not to. I regret it now.”

Alaska remains silent, unable to bring herself to argue - she finds herself agreeing, even though she knows she shouldn’t. Why should Sharon have mercy when clearly, he had none? What’s just in that?

“We ran around for three years like two idiots,” Sharon says, smiling fondly. “She was like a mother to me. We had matching lockets - I think that’s what you found, last night.”

Regal eyes flash across Alaska’s memory, and she nods, raising her eyebrows. “Why don’t you wear it?” she asks, before she can really think about it, and guilt is just barely beginning to plunge into her stomach when Sharon finally answers after a long beat.

“Looking at her makes me feel guilty,” she says, voice quiet again. “She’s dead.”

Alaska tries not to jolt with surprise at Sharon’s blunt tone. “It’s not your fault,” she says automatically, and Sharon glares.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Did you shoot her?” Alaska asks pointedly, and Sharon shakes her head. “Then it’s not your fault.”

“You’ll change your mind once I tell you I was the one who convinced Chad to join forces with Lawrence Solomon,” Sharon snaps, and Alaska’s worry spikes when she sees that there are tears in her eyes. “I didn’t even trust him - we just needed money, and he was the easiest way to it. A fucking robbery,” she snorts disparagingly. “Split evenly down the middle. It’s so obvious now that it was a set up.”

“You’re acting like Chad couldn’t have said no,” Alaska says gently, but Sharon barrels on, seemingly deaf to her point.

“I fucking - I threatened to go in with him on my own even if Chad didn’t want to. She was so concerned–” Sharon sucks in another deep breath. “Long story short, we robbed a carriage - a fucking carriage - and I watched as he shot her in the– I ran.” Sharon takes another deep breath, clearly trying her best to keep her tears at bay, her expression crumpling. “I abandoned her, Alaska, and the least I can do to make up for it is to be there for her daughter. I–”

Alaska cuts her off with a kiss, anger and relief driving it with force - anger, because Sharon blaming herself for this is the stupidest thing she’s ever heard, and relief, because Sharon blaming herself for this is the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.

She breaks off the kiss to look Sharon in the eyes. The other woman looks conflicted, hope and uncertainty in her expression. “I love you, Sharon Needles,” Alaska tells her, and it feels so freeing to say, “and none of that was your fault.”

Sharon looks like she disagrees, holding her breath for a short moment. “You just–”

“Shut up,” Alaska says, unwilling to tolerate any more. “I love you.”

Sharon looks at her for a long time, dried tear tracks on her cheeks to match Alaska’s. She clearly still doesn’t believe Alaska, but her expression shifts suddenly, like despite her disagreement, it doesn’t matter anymore.

“I love you too, Lasky,” she says softly, the warmth that Alaska has been seeing in her gaze for a week now shining out of her face.

It’s the best thing Alaska’s ever heard. It floods her with a happiness she’s never experienced, an elation that makes her feel like she could fly.

She grins, cheeks hurting from how hard she’s smiling, and she pulls Sharon into another, deeper, kiss.

She feels like she could burst with happiness, with warmth - she wants to hold Sharon tight and never let go, she wants to scream her love from the mountain tops, she wants to go anywhere and everywhere with this woman.

She’s in love. She’s loved. She could conquer the world.

As they gently fall over onto the ground, Alaska’s hands in Sharon’s hair and Sharon’s hands somewhere up her shirt, Alaska feels closer to this woman than she’s ever been to anyone.

She’s starting to understand why Sharon had reacted to the robbery the way she had - she can only hope that this mission goes more smoothly.

It has to. Alaska’s too wrapped up in Sharon to even consider the alternative.

[zankivich]

Neighbors: Shawn x Plus-Size Reader Chapter 17

a/n I could literally go on and one and one about this chapter. What I was thinking, what I meant, what I wanted it to feel like. But I really just want to leave it all out here for you. If you have thoughts please come talk to me about them. I am literally bursting at the seams right now. I used a song for this chapter called Grow as We Go by Ben Platt. It is beautiful, please listen to it. I love you. K bye. 

Warnings: smut, love, feels, pizza, and space buns.

Y/n’s point of view*

You’re sitting on the couch between Stu and Bryan when your phone starts to ring.

Shawn:I just knocked on your old apartment door out of habit

Shawn: a forty-year old man lives there now. He had me go into his daughter’s room and sign a poster.

You can’t help but snort. Of course he went into the room. Idiot.

y/n: Shawn why would you enter that man’s home in the first place?

Shawn: He was nice! I felt bad for interrupting his day. Can we get back to the issue at hand which is that you’re no longer ten feet away from me?

y/n: and kind of homeless? Certainly a massive turn of events has occurred.

Shawn: Where are you? I’ve got the movie Us on my tv. We haven’t watched scary movies together in a long time.

Y/n: I’m at Stu and Bryan’s. Are you asking me on a date right now?

Shawn: Yes. Come overrrrrr. Please?

“Welp! I have to go.” You announced pushing yourself off the couch

“And just where are you going, young lady? It’s past your curfew!” Stu chuckled.

You flipped your friend off and quickly began ruffling through your suitcase for cuter underwear.

“Funny. Some random guy wants me to come over. As fun as you both are, I haven’t had dick in over six months.”

Bryan was confused.

“I thought she was giving things another go with Shawn.”

“She is, baby. Random guy is not random at all. She’s ditching us for her future husband. Try to keep up.” Stu explained patting his boyfriend on the arm in consolation.

You found the pale pink lacey number and quickly ran around changing your entire outfit to look less “woman sleeping on her friend’s couch” and more “comfy chic but you can totally bend me over in you want”.

“Isn’t the whole point of being in a relationship that you don’t have to do whatever it is you’re doing right now?”

You rolled your eyes again as you slipped into a pair of shorts that showed off your ass and a tank top that would provide a wonderful excuse to snuggle under a blanket.

“Perhaps you missed the part where we kind of broke up slash kinda didn’t but definitely did? This is surely the least I could offer him. And the least he can offer me...is his penis! Goodnight friends!”

You uber’d to Shawn’s which frankly was a little cocky on your part. There were nothing that said Shawn had to let you spend the night again, nothing that even said he had to have sex with you that night. Although you had both come to terms with everything and agreed to be together, you hadn’t exactly decided where you were starting. Was this an all the way back to the beginning sort of deal, or were you simply progressing from where you left off?

When he opens the door and pulls you in by your hips to kiss your lips like he hadn’t seen you in months, you think maybe things will lean in the direction you wanted them too. Here's a hoping.

“Well hello to you too.”

His eyes widened and he quickly stepped back.

“Was that wrong? I shouldn’t have done that right? Shit.”

You shake your head and close the door before the neighbors ask him to sign more things.

“You’re totally fine. That is a perfectly acceptable way to greet me.”

“Come on. My apartment missed you.”

The living room is set up a little differently than usual. Gone are Shawn’s video game consoles and in their place is an abundance of pillows and candles littered about. He made popcorn, and it doesn’t even smell burnt. He’s got your favorite blanket folded and waiting. It’s so weird. It kind of feels like a first date all over again. But also it just sort of feels like home.

“Have you seen the movie yet?” He asked as you adjusted yourselves into the cushions.

You shook your head softly. “No. I’ve heard good things though.”

“It’s pretty fucking terrifying. Might need you to hold me half way through.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.”

Your mind was on a very distinct path. A path of a woman who had begun showing signs of carpal tunnel from flipping her bean too much. So, when Shawn reminded you that you’d left one of your big t-shirts in his room if you wanted to “get comfortable”, you were sure that you were picking up all of the signals. You tugged at your shorts and settled your underwear in that really sexy, but totally non functional way above your hips and walked back out to the living room to get your man.

The moving is playing and the sun is still out and no one has died yet. Shawn smiled at you as you walk back into the room. It’s all the motivation you need to straddle him right there on the couch. When your lips touch, it’s exactly what you’ve been missing. You ran your tongue along his bottom lip, nipped softly at the skin with your teeth. His hands came up to rest on your lower back, and you pushed your hips down against his playfully. God you missed him.

So when his hands come up to where yours are gripping tightly in his hair the only thing that comes to mind is maybe he’ll flip you face down ass up. Not that he might push you away all together.

“Babe.” He whined reaching for the remote. “W--What about the movie?”

You peered back at M’baku’s face. Surely he was sexy as all hell, but like...you’d had other plans.

“Oh...did you really want to watch that?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yea? We haven’t seen each other in months. And the last time we did anything sexual you used me like a vibrator and then hung up on me.”

You sighed collapsing back on your heels. “Shawn, I thought we weren’t holding grudges against each other.”

“We’re not! Hey, look at me.” He mumbled sternly, grabbing your chin with his fingers. “I’m not holding a grudge. I just thought it might be good for us to ease into things. I missed you y/n. Like in your entirety, as a human being. I actually wanted to spend time with you.”

You groaned softly letting your forehead come to rest on his chest. Leave it to Shawn to somehow make not having sex with you sound like prose. Bastard.

“That sounds incredibly sweet. And lovely.”

He snorted. “But?”

“No. No buts. You’re right. We should...ease. If I wake up again humping my pillow, well those are just the consequences I’ll have to live with.”

“I’m sorry.” He chuckled, and kissed your forehead. “If it makes you feel any better, the amount of wet dreams I’ve had on tour is double anything I had when I was a teenager.”

“It doesn’t make me feel any better. It makes me horny. Let’s watch your movie, boy scout.”

You rolled off of him, exasperated and a bit frustrated, and let him put the movie back on. His eyes roamed over your face in what was probably concern, but you figured you should keep your eyes on the movie. No one said it would be easy to fall back into a relationship like theirs.

Eventually the movie completely captures both of you. You worm yourself around Shawn’s bicep and gasp a little when the jumpscares happen. It’s a hell of a movie. A movie rooted in something far greater than just its first glance. As a horror buff, you’re a bit taken aback at it all. And when it ends you spend the next hour just talking about what it all means. This is the natural part. When it’s just the two of you talking each other’s ear off, and the other having nothing else they’d rather listen to.

When Shawn starts to clean up from your night together it sort of seems like your cue to leave. You tug your shorts and shoes back on and flicker through the app to find your uber.

“Hey. Where are you going?” He asked stepping back into the living room from the kitchen.

“Oh I’m just getting my ride back home. Didn’t feel like trying to find a place to park.”

He frowned. “You’re not staying?”

“Did you...want me to stay?”

“W--Well yea. We haven’t cuddled in a long time. I sort of thought that was a given.”

“Well I thought so too and then there was the whole not wanting to touch me thing, so I figured I shouldn’t assume.”

He groaned helplessly and came to plop down on the couch beside you.

“Why would you say that? Of course I want to touch you. I”m just trying not to fuck this up again.”

You peered over at him, both of you a little frustrated and a lot confused. Apparently this was going to be a little more difficult than either of you gave credit for.

You reached slowly to climb into Shawn’s lap, eyeing him to make sure that it was okay. He reached for your hips and ran his fingers beneath your shirt. It made you tingle, but that’s not important.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, playing at his curls. “I guess I just...wasn’t sure how far back we were starting. I want to sleep in the same bed with you. I want to hold you again. And I missed my best friend too, dammit. I just also missed my boyfriend.”

He nodded. “You’re right. We didn’t really discuss it. It’s gonna take some time for us to get the hang of things. But...I don’t want to start all over. I love that I sleep the best when I’m wrapped around you. And I love hiding my face in your neck and in your hair. I’ve missed these things for months. I don’t want to miss them anymore. Can we please go to bed? We can talk more in the morning.”

“Okay. Can you kiss me first?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He pulls you by the chin until your lips touch and it’s so much better than before. There’s hunger there, something that says you’ve tasted what it was like to be apart and you’re not interested in ever going back. His tongue teases you until you’re opening up, until he’s kissing you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted to do. Your heart picks up speed in your chest and your hips get a little tighter around his waist.  He teases as your thighs with his palms and then all of a sudden you’re flying through the air as your boyfriend lifts you with a grunt and take you to bed.

“What in the hell!” You gasp holding on for dear life.

You did not simply just get lifted. Especially not by your much thinner,much lighter boyfriend. Even more than that you had thought that you didn’t even want to be lifted. The thought of someone throwing their back out or struggling under your weight was all you needed to ruin the mood. But here he was. Surprising you as always.

“Baby we don’t have time. We gotta go to bed.” He grinned playfully.

“Well this is just ...unbelievably hot against my better judgement.” You whined hiding your face in his neck in fear that he might drop your ass any second. “You spend a lot of time lifting Camila to get this move down?”

“Not funny and not now!”

You snorted playfully. “Just seem to really enjoy dancing and wall humping all of a sudden. I thought i'd ask.”

He absolutely purposely lets you fall with a slightly too big of a bounce to the bed before climbing delightfully on top of you. When the weight of his hips roots you to bed, you knot your fingers in his sweats and try to tug him even closer. You didn’t know it was possible to miss someone this much. Especially not when they’re frowning at you for taking the piss out of them.

“You were making fun of me.” He whined playfully.

You shook your head. “Oh no, I wasn’t. There’s nothing I loved more than being in the middle of Madrid only to see my man with his tities out hip grinding with Camilla Cabello. It was actually a highlight for me.”

“Your man, aye?” He grinned nose skimming the length of your neck.

“Of course that is what you got out of that.”

“Everything else was nonsense. It was a music video. I’ll have you know I can now do at least a basic salsa, and I’d love to take you out sometime.”

You snorted. “So you can drop my ass on the ground too?”

“Okay you officially paid way too close attention to me while you were away!”

But you only continued laughing.

***

When you wake up Shawn’s already awake. You were usually one to turn away in your sleep, but this time you’d managed to cradle into his chest. His fingers were in your hair, playing delicately with the strands. The sun peeked through his curtains and you were amazed even now at how beautiful his cheekbones were in the light. For a moment you just stare at each other. His eyes are that beautiful shade of hazel and his thumb grazes across your cheek like somehow you might be just as pretty as he is. Apparently you kinda were. When he kisses you, your toes feel weightless and your tummy flutters like crazy. You missed this.

He moves to roll you over, smoothly finding his way between your thighs. His fingers skim underneath your t-shirt and the whole time those lips are still on yours. When his hips start to move, and yours are canting against his you start to feel breathless. And needy. And a little desperate.

“Take your shirt off.” He mumbled softly leaning up on his knees to follow his own directive.

You blinked up at him. “But I thought…”

“Take it off, baby. I need you.”

Well. Yes. Yes to all of that.

You tugged at your own shirt haphazardly before tugging his sweats down his thighs. Your fingers wasted no time in reaching into his briefs to hold his hardening cock in your hand.

He groaned softly, head bowing at your touch. You were wet already. That literally was all it took. How stupid of you to think that you could ever do without this. God, you needed him.

“Fuck,” He sighed. “You have no idea how much I missed that.”

His thighs are firm and solid, muscles tensing on every upward stroke. You love watching him as you touch him, the way his face scrunches up in pleasure. It’s the furrowing of his brow. The way that he bites his lip. The way his hips press forward desperately for you as his tip gets red and rosey.

“Want you to do something for me.” You mumbled from beneath him.

He nods without question, always willing to please you.

“Anything, baby. Just wanna make you feel good.”

You blow softly on his head pressing a kiss to the open slit.

“Want you to fuck my face….And then I want you to make love to me.”

It’s a bit of a contradiction and you can see the shock on his face at your words, but you kind of need him fast and hard, and you kind of need him now. Doesn’t mean a bitch can’t be sentimental too.

“Holy fucking shit I missed you so much.” He whined breathlessly. “A--Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You tugged at the back of his thigh and nodded your head.

“Please, Shawn? Please?”

“God.” He whined reaching down to thumb at your jaw. “Fuck, okay. Okay.”

You shuffled back against the pillows so that your back was supported by the wall the bed lies against. Shawn straddled you, sweats still pooled around his knees  as he settled his fingers into your hair. He still looked at you so softly. His eyes were warm and homey and he held your jaw like it was something precious. It’s a complete juxtaposition to the groan that leaves his mouth when he pushes his hips slowly so that he fills your lips. And it’s so fucking hot.

“Your mouth is so warm, so wet. Baby, Jesus.”

You peer up at him so tall and red faced above you. He’s biting away at his lip and he’s trying not to hurt you and it’s all just a little too much. So you reach your fingers into your thong to play with your clit and move your head forward slow and steady until his balls rest on your chin. The response is incredible for both of you.

“Holy fucking shit!” He grunted fingers clenching your hair. “I can feel it. I can feel it in your throat. Oh my god.”

You gag slightly and pull back, his cock covered in spit with a trail still connected to your lips. You smile hopefully up at him as if to ask whether or not you’d done a good job and trail your fingers up his thighs to feel the muscles tense.

“Did I do good?” You whimpered kissing at the head.

His eyes are blown wide and it’s very clear that something new entirely is happening between the both of you, something that you hadn’t quite explored yet. And what a hell of a time to start messing around with sexual exploration after a six month pause on a relationship.

“You did so good. You suck me off better than anyone ever could, baby. You’re perfect.”

You practically purr at his words, fingers pressing a little harder against your sensitive nub.

“Can I suck it some more?”

“Fuck. Yes. Yes you can.”

Pleasing him is like the easiest and most rewarding thing on the planet. He’s so expressive with his face, so willing to give you all of the praise in the world, that he always seems to feel good. It doesn’t mean you can’t up the ante. Doesn’t mean you can’t force his fingers into your hair and moan around him until he’s pushing his hips shallowly against your mouth. It also doesn’t mean that he can’t always praise you more.

“Oh my god, y/n! Y--You’ve gotta let me know if I’m hurting you. Gotta tell me if I need to stop okay--ahhh fuck.”

You make sure to bob your neck and to watch him as he loses it above you. It’s the most sensual thing in the world to watch him in pleasure. The sweat on his brow. The redness in his cheeks and neck. The way his lips stay open just enough for his tongue to poke through when he slides deeper than he thought he could. It might have been a whim but it’s for sure the top five moments of watching him ever. So much so that your thighs starts to pulse and your fingers turn sloppy on your clit as an orgasm builds in your toes. And just as you’re sure you’re going to lose it, he pulls the fuck back. Bastard.

“Please I--I’m gonna cum if you keep going. Please baby let me be in you.” He whined.

He nearly trips getting out of his sweats, but when he’s between your thighs and his hard on is pressing betweens your folds, already slicking himself up with your juices, you fail to think about anything but him inside you.

“Put it in, Shawn please.” you mumbled sucking a mark into his clavicle.

He moaned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to eat you out first?”

“I’m literally pooling in my underwear right now. Just make love to me please.”

And who knew love could feel so fucking good. It is desperate and needy and sticky and so fucking replenishing that you are full to the brim of utter elation and a complete inability to breathe at the same time. He stretches you unbelievably well, his hands cupping your face while his tongue is in your mouth. You moan for him and he for you and you really are just so attentive to one another. Your legs and arms locked around him hips working against his as his pubic bone ruts against you. And you can’t help but run your fingers through his hair, to touch his biceps and his neck and his hips and his stomach. You wanted to re-familiarize yourself with his body, and with his heart. It helps that he’s gripping your cheeks and rubbing your thighs and grabbing at your stomach like every part of you matters to him, like every part is something that is precious and loveable.

“I missed you.” You whispered against his neck. “I missed you so much.”

His fingers grow tight again against your scalp and his hips stutter against yours.

“I love you, so much. Don’t ever fucking leave me again.”

You’re both so fucked for one another. And there’s something about this need to restore everything that was broken. Something about wanting to pull your heart out and offer it to the other person if it just meant that they would know you were all in. You were his in that way that meant you were still entirely your own person, but that you wanted to give him all of the love and the passion and the kindness and the serenity that you could offer another person. There’s something about fixing the pain with your lips, about finding any traces of anything other than love and making them that, infinitely. When he’s gasping against your lips and telling you that you’re the only thing he wants, that you’re everything, it can only heighten the pleasure.

Somehow your eyes become wet and your fingers turn to fists in his hair and your orgasm creeps up on you in the most overwhelming way.

“I’m gonna cum.” You cry back arching. “Oh my--Shawn!”

He attaches his lips to your neck and fist his fingers in the sheets as he somehow manages to fuck you through the most world shattering orgasm you think you’ve ever had. It is only made infinitely better when he cums with your name on his lips, and this warm feeling spreads within you as you literally take him for every drop that he’s got.

“Oh my god.” He mumbled. “You are a magical creature, do you know that?”

“Fuck off and you just made me cum my brains out.” You huffed thighs squeezing around him again for emphasis.

It makes him laugh a little bit, which only makes you happier.

“You’re so beautiful.” He hums kissing you again and again until you’re giggling up a storm.

“I love you.”

“I love you. Come here.”

You’re completely wrapped up in one another again when his phone starts to ring on the bed side table and there’s nothing you want less in the world then to let him go.

Shawn groaned. “It’s probably Andrew. Just give me a minute.”

You whine softly and make yourself busy with sucking another hickey into his chest, much to Shawn’s excitement and frustration and your delight.

“H--Hello?” He murmured making eye contact with you as you circled his nipple with your tongue. “Mhmmm.”

One second he looks like he might just hang up and dive back into the covers with you, and the next he’s scrambling to pull out like a frazzled virgin. Rude.

“Shit! Shit, I’m coming. I’m on my way right now. I swear! I’m so sorry.”

“Who died?!” You gasped as he left you cold and wet and quite frankly dripping on his expensive ass sheets.

He ran straight for the bathroom completely ignoring his very beautiful girlfriend in the bedroom.

“I’m late! Rehearsals started forty-five minutes ago and I’m late! I live ten minutes from the goddamn place. Andrew is going to have my ass.”

He runs back out to you and plops back on the bed with a warm washcloth to slip between your thighs.He slows down for a minute and grips lovingly at your knee. Your eyes meet as he cleans you and it’s maybe even more intense then whatever you’d done just moments prior.

“Hey I--I’m so sorry that I wasn’t more careful. I wasn’t thinking and I just...Should’ve been more responsible.”

You smiled up at him softly and gripped at his wrist between your legs.

“I appreciate the sentiment. That’s what the birth control is for. Just got a little swept up in the moment.”

“That’s certainly one way to describe what you do to me. God, I’m so late.”

And then he’s back up jumping in a blur of soap and shampoo and tugging on clothes with a vengeance while you proceed to just bask in your post-orgasm bonelessness.

He tugs on his boots and a scarf before climbing back into bed to kiss you goodbye. You hate to think that you could get used to mornings like this.

“Do you...do you wanna maybe come to the venue today? Just to hang out? No pressure.” He whispered nuzzling into your neck.

You sighed and pulled him a little closer. “Can I meet you there later? Think I should probably head back to Stu’s to change.”

“Yea, of course . . . You know you could bring some stuff over here too. If you wanted. Like in the meantime, or whatever.”

He’s all bashful and red cheeks, and it is absolutely insufferable how much you love him.

You giggle softly. “Or whatever, aye? You sure I wouldn’t be intruding on your bachelor pad lifestyle?”

“Not at all. I don’t want to move faster than you want to move. Just know I want you here always. And we can talk later when you come to the venue, okay? About everything we keep not talking about when we’re having sex.”

“K. Seems like the least you could do is kiss me goodbye.”

You tug as his scarf to feel his lips on yours for the umpteenth time that morning. It is truly a miracle you let him leave at all.

***

Shawn’s pov

He’s in a good mood. He’s in a great mood. Shit, he might be in the greatest mood of all time. There’s a skip in his step as he walks from the parking garage to the venue. He smiles at all of the employees he comes across, takes twenty pictures before he even makes it inside. The truth is, he’s kind of on top of the world.

Andrew is waiting for him when he finally gets to stage. The show at Roger’s was going to be a whole new level, and it required a little extra planning on their end, hence the time off to prepare for the show. The good news is he’s not in a place where the shows feel like a burden anymore. That had been his learning process while she was away. For a moment, he’d needed something to blame for the pain and the hurt that he was experiencing. At the time it had only made sense for the tour to take that blame. It wasn’t until he started writing just to write, and playing music in the hotel rooms that he was able to remember what music meant to him. It became cathartic again, became his therapy when it was two am and he wanted her so badly, but he knew that he couldn’t call. And then he started leaving it all out on the stage, and it started to hurt less. Was everything fixed? Certainly not. But he also wasn’t kicking and screaming at every show anymore either.

“I’m so sorry I’m late you guys! The time just really got away from me this morning.” He smiled happily as he started to remove his scarf and jacket.

His band begins to snicker and Andrew just simply let his head fall into his hands with a groan.

“What’s wrong? What I do?”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “You look like a chew toy Shawn. I take it y/n is back in town?”

He touched sheepishly at his neck trying to cover up the hickey. Apparently there must have been many though because Zeubin was just giving him a sad shake of his head. Tough crowd.

“Woops. Well...she is. And everything is okay. We’re okay. I have never been happier, and my hands are itching to play. So shall we focus a little less on my love life and a little more on the show?”

He gets a guitar in his hands and it all just makes sense. He’s vibing with the band and they’re all feeding off each other’s energy. She’s on his mind the entire time. The taste of her lips. The look on her face when he filled her. The sound of his name as an acknowledgement of pleasure. Waking up that morning with her head on his chest and that damn nose whistle of her’s that he has missed so much. It’s the most incredible feeling in the world when it all aligns. When the art reflect his life and his life is a reflection of the art. It’s all that he had ever asked for. And it feels like maybe, just maybe he might get it right this time.

“Woooh! That was beautiful! Holy shit guys.”

Andrew gives him the nod of approval and Zeubin is just as ecstatic as he is. It’s all just sort of clicking in that magical way that music does sometimes. And it’s only the rehearsal.

They run another four songs before breaking. Andrew pulls him to another meeting about press releases for another song he’d written, so it’s not exactly a break for him. Until his phone starts to vibrate that is.

y/n: Would it be super corny to wear one of your merch sweatshirts? It’s chilly and I spent seventy-five dollars on it.

Shawn: You did not! You got it free and you know it.

Shawn: It would not be corny. It would actually make me incredibly happy.

y/n: But it’s still an expensive ass sweatshirt love.

y/n: well I guess that settles it. Think you could get away to meet me for lunch?

Shawn: I’ll figure it out. Hurry?

y/n: Yea okay. Be there soon.

“Did you hear anything I said in the last five minutes?” Andrew asked as he bowed his head again to read y/n’s response.

“Yes! Something about an insta live and some questions or something…?”

Andrew was not very impressed.

“Okay. I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt because I think I have an idea of how you might be feeling right now. And honestly it’s just good to see you smile again. Go. Go be with her. And be back here ready to rehearse by one. Does that sound fair?”

He’s already out of his chair and running to hug the guy before he makes a dash for it.

“Thanks Andrew! I’ll be back at one, promise!”

He waits outside for her to pick him up and he’s absolutely fucking giddy inside. She’s got him wrapped around her finger, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever come down. When she pulls up in front of the venue with sunglasses on and his face on her shirt and a smile so bright it makes his stomach flutter, it leaves him helpless. Helpless to do anything but jump right into her car and kiss her silly. He still can’t believe he went six months without her. How?

“Mmm, Hi.” She giggled.

He sighed gripping her cheek in his palm.

“I missed you.”

“It was only four hours, but I missed you too. I figured we could go somewhere I can get day drunk and have you drive me back when I get handsy.”

“That sounds fucking wonderful. Let’s do it.”

They hold hands and sing along to the radio. His fucking song comes on and she doesn’t dispise it some how despite it being a reflection of the darkest part of their relationship. This is the part that they’re good at. Loving and holding and touching and adoration. When they’re good, they’re the best. Because they both have so much love to give and only one person they want to give it to. So when you offer them lunch on a sunny September day when the leaves are falling and they’re together, it just feels like everything.

“You look really beautiful today.” She whispers to him over a fruity cocktail at barely twelve o’clock in the afternoon.

He feels his cheeks warm and his heart sore. He leaned on his arms and pressed forward to kiss her again.

“Thank you, honey. You look really beautiful too.”

“You’re right. We’re kind of a couple of catches.”

“True! So...we should probably talk right? About us?”

She nodded and reached for his hand to hold hers.

“Yea, of course. Do you--is there somewhere you wanted to start?”

He frowns a little and takes to drawing shapes into the back of her hand to still himself.

“I guess I’d want you to know that as soon as I’m done with the tour, I’m taking a year off. Non negotiable. And I would like...shit I would love if we could spend that year together. I’m ready to prioritize this part of my life with you, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of that.”

She snorted softly and smiled at him. “What the hell are you even gonna do for a year off. Follow me around for once?”

“Yes. I will sit in your office all day and bug the hell out of you. Maybe I can set up a studio in there and everything.”

“Oh absolutely! Can I ask you something though?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything.”

“One of the times that we spoke while I was away you said that...that I was the uh love of your life. I guess I was just wondering if you still felt that way?”

She’s nervous and flustered and twitchy and it is so incredibly adorable. How could she not be the love of his life sitting there looking like that.

“Did I ever tell you what my mum said when I brought you home for the first time?” He asked softly playing with her hands again.

She shook her head.

“‘Liyah told me that she thought you were the one for me immediately. Like after the first night. And I think I kept trying to ignore it because we hadn’t actually been together all that long but...being away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Not even the physical proximity, but just the not talking, the what ifs. I don’t ever wanna go to bed again without knowing we’re together.” He tried to explain. “I just...I feel something different when I’m with you. And I’m tired of denying that because of something like time. I’m in love with you. And I think--I think you’re the one for me. I know it’s kinda scary to say and I’m not gonna like ask you to marry me next week but...I’m in this. With you. For however long you’ll have me.”

It makes her eyes a little dewy. And they’re making such intense eye contact that there might as well be nothing around them. Not people, not the restaurant, nothing. It’s just the two of them being honest with each other. And it feels incredible. To know that they had a really healthy relationship before, only to completely evolve and make themselves better. It was like a new level.

“I knew that I loved you in October.” She blurts out quietly.

He grinned a little. “October, aye? We met in August.”

“Yes, I’m aware Shawn.” She rolled her eyes. “I had a really bad day at work. Some asshole receptionist was talking shit in the kitchen about the, and I quote: ‘egotistical fat bitch on the top floor who thinks her shit don’t stink.’”

“What?! You never told me that!”

“Of course not. I’d met you in October, remember?” She snickered. “I just remember, I came home. And you were there. And you knew something was up without me having to say it. You invited me over for movies and cuddling. It was our first official sleepover aside from when we would fall asleep coincidently. You bought my favorite wine and got snacks. You made me feel like--like everything was gonna be okay. And I--I knew. I knew I’d fallen for your annoying ass.”

He smiled dopely at her. “Why do I have to be annoying? Why can’t I just be sweet and wonderful?”

“You are both of those things. Hence the annoyance. But I love you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes are wide and clear and so incredibly honest. It makes it all feel so much more real. Here they are loving each other and being open with that love. All of his worries and his insecurities were gone. He didn’t need them when she was looking at him that way, when she was loving him that way. And God did he not have all the love in the world to give her back.

Throughout lunch they keep pulling back layers, keep telling each other what they need. She’s willing to fly out once a month on weekends if he’s willing to let her work while she’s there. And he’s willing to not push her so hard about her stress levels if she’s willing to keep him updated when she’s struggling. He needs her to reach out so that he feels less like a burden for doing the same. He needs to know what’s going on in that head of hers. She needs him to find a way to be present for her from across the world. She needs the dumb selfies, and the wake up texts, and the random carepackages of a sweatshirt that smells like him. It’s not a foolproof plan, and they have to both be willing to acknowledge that there are going to be difficulties that come there way. But this is where they’re at. A strong united front. What a fucking concept.

By the time they finish lunch, her tongue is red from her strawberry daiquiri and she’s leaning her head on his shoulder as they wait for the valet to bring the car around. He’s definitely driving back.

“Are you sure you wanna hang around the venue all day? It could get boring. I can drive you back to my place, or Stu’s even.”

She frowns and presses her cold lips against his neck. “I haven’t heard you play in so long. I miss it.”

He wraps his arms around her waist and squeezes. It’s the kindest thing in the world she could have said to him. He has to hide his face in her hair because he just know he’s absolutely beaming.

“Okay.”

They’re so absorbed in each other that the valet has to clear his throat to get their attention. So forgive them for not noticing the fans across the street who catches him kissing her, or opening the door for her, or taking five whole minutes to drive off because she really is handsy when she’s day drunk. In the time that it takes for him to drive from one side of town to the other the pictures go up on twitter, some magazine makes a headline, and all of a sudden the world is in shock that Shawn Mendes and his ex have “rekindled their explosive romance”. As far as he’s concerned, he’s just driving back to work.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Reconciliation feels good. It takes a lot to feel confident in your relationship, to be able to be emotionally vulnerable with someone. Relationships takes maturity, and they take being able to speak your mind and care about the thoughts of others at the same time. You also kind of need to like each other as people. For instance you can’t just fuck your way into happiness. Being sexually compatible without all the rest of the relationship on equal footing does you no good. However, once you’ve got that all down? There is simply no where to go but up…. to an incredible climax. Thrice.

“Holy fucking shit .” You gasp hoarsely as your body finally collapsed against the already destroyed sheets.

Shawn chuckled and pressed his sweaty curls into your neck as he kissed at one of the marks he left behind.

“I love when your voice goes all high on me. Let’s me know I’m doing it right.”

“Get off of me. You are driving me up a wall.” You groaned.

He flips off immediately as if he’d actually hurt you instead of you just being whiny and dramatic. But the second his body is gone, you’re at a toal lost and you simply need him to come back.

“Where are you going?”

His eyes widened. “You told me to get off.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean it. Come back!” You reach your arms out for him all grabby hands and smiles.

When he grabs your thighs and nestles himself back between your legs you feel at home again. Perfect.

“You are absolutely crazy.” He huffed against your lips. “And I love you for it.”

“I think I need you to fuck me like that at least two more times tonight.”

“And I think you are genuinely underestimating the turnover rate of my boners.”

“I believe in you. You’ll figure something out.”

His phone starts to ring again and you swear it’s like a round of deja vu.

“Well isn’t this a familiar tone! If that’s Andrew again to take you away from me, I’m rioting.”

Shawn snorted kissing your shoulder as he reached for his phone.

“I can just hear the headline now: Shawn Mende’s girlfriend pickets manager after interrupting midnight rendevoua.”

“Oooo I like that!”

“Yea, I’ll give you something else you’ll like in a minute.”

Ugh finally.

“Hey Andrew….Yea I’m at home. N--No, I haven’t left. Y/n and I have been in all night.”

“Yea we have!” You giggled.

He swatted playfully at you. “Hey, what’s up? What’s wrong? Oh for fuck’s sake, Andrew I don’t have time for this!”

You reached for the sheet to cover your body and tug your hair into a bun with the hair tie on your wrist as you watch your boyfriend do his little businessman with an empire thing. Hot.

“It was lunch okay? We went to lunch.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why is it every time you get it in trouble it seems to have something to do with me?”

“It has nothing to do with you. You are literally perfect and I am NOT going to apologize for kissing my girlfriend at her car, Andrew!”

You’re a bit nosey so you plop yourself on Shawn’s chest to listen in to the other side of the conversation.

“You were not kissing! You were inhaling each other! There are a few moms in your network that don’t want their children watching their idol playing tit grab in broad daylight against a fuck prius. The video goes on for five fucking minutes Shawn.”

You snorted. “How did you not notice someone filming us for five minutes. Isn’t that like your job?”

“Apparently I was a little absorbed in playing a good round of tit grab.”

“This is serious!” Andrew yelled. “You two are going to put me in an early grave you know that? Do you have any idea how hard it was navigating the press through your break up? The second rolling stone interview? The crying on stage? The hashtags on twitter?”

“Wait, what’s he talking about?”

“I’m not saying I want you to be unhappy here,” Andrew plowed on, unable to hear you. “You fuck as much as you want in doors. I don’t care. I’m simply asking for a little tact here people!”

“Okay. Everyone calm down! I will go live on Instagram and clear everything up. I will apologize that my privacy was invaded the first time I had lunch with my girlfriend in months. Is there anything else you needed from me tonight? Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You lift off of his chest as he hangs up the phone and bite your lip softly in nervousness. He moves a stray piece of hair that didn’t quite make it into the bun and kisses your bare shoulder.

“Sweetheart don’t shut down on me, please?” He whispered.

“Will you tell me?” You asked hesitantly. “What it was like while I was gone?”

He sighed. “Babe, it was a while ago, okay? That’s all in the past.”

“I--I wanna know. It’s important to me.”

He stares at you for a moment as if trying to sense how far you’re willing to push it. But you know you won’t give in. Honesty has to be the number one for them. That was their new leaf anyway. Honestly above all.

“Okay. I guess that Andrew was telling the truth. I--I struggled a lot. And the fans got a little worried, so they started this Make Shawn Feel Better campaign on twitter. And they started holding these little hearts up at the shows. The press got a hold of it so Rolling stone wanted to do an article. I thought I was feeling a little better so I let them come out. They fucked up again. Did this story about how I was depressed and full of myself and didn’t have anything to actually be sad about. It just became a thing for a little while.”

You have a feeling he’s leaving out the worst of it. And you can’t help but wonder if maybe Andrew would tell you the whole thing. But he’s sitting here in front of you right now with those kind, hazel doe eyes and presenting his heart on a silver platter like he always does, like he was always willing to do for you. And you remember that things are different now. You have to trust him just like he has to trust you. It’s the only way that this works.

“Hey.” He mumbled when you glanced guilty down at the sheets, his fingers moving to cup your cheek. “It was not your fault. The only reason I didn’t say anything is because I didn’t want you blaming yourself.  It was a shitty time, but I got to learn how to love music again because of it. I needed to remember how music could make me feel. Not the industry, not the money, not anything else but the music. It was worth it for me.  And I got you. That’s all that matters to me.”

You frown. “I know I just… I can’t help but feel like I was on a beach in the south of France having some self-discovery moment while you were hurting.”

He chuckled a little which only made you frown more, so he reached to kiss your forehead instead.

“I wasn’t exactly moping in my bedroom, honey. I was playing shows around the entire world for tens of thousands of people a night. Maybe rolling stone was right. I didn’t have much to be sad about.”

“Aye, fuck them! What you make some money and get a couple million fans so you don’t get to experience human emotion anymore? That’s bullshit. I wish I would’ve been there too, you keep letting those little bitches into your circle. Let them come over here and tell me what you do and don’t get to feel. I’ll give them something to feel. And another thing--”

He kisses you again until your breathless and your mind is a little foggy and you can’t feel anything but his lips on yours.

“You’re so fucking cute.” He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Thank you for always protecting me. Thank you for loving me in the exact same way I love you. It is...It means the world to me.”

Your cheeks burn a little bit and you tuck your face in his shoulder to kiss a hickey you’d left at some point.

“Well of course. We were made for each other weren’t we?”

“Yea. I guess we were.”

***

“Hey. Where are you right now?” He murmured.

You peered over at the lunch that Stu had invited you to. It had gone from, “let’s catch up” to “let’s sit and watch everyone else chat and have fun and talk about the good ole days of grindr”

“I’m in the middle of a lunch with every gay man this side of Lake Ontario. Don’t worry though, I’m gonna be there at six thirty at the gate to get in, just like you said.”

“Oh...Well yea that uh--that sounds great. I was actually gonna ask you. I got offered the chance to go skate at the uh the arena where the leafs play. Kind of a dream of mine. I wanted to know if maybe you’d wanna come with me.”

He sounded a little flustered, and when he was flustered you were flustered. It didn’t help that you HAD NO IDEA HOW TO SKATE.

“Why do you sound so nervous to ask me that?” You giggled, playing with the table cloth.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, you make me nervous.” He chuckled. “Will you go with me?”

“I’d love to. I really would...”

“But?”

“It’s just that I can’t skate.” You admitted softly.

“Can’t skate? Baby.” He snickered.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t laugh at me goddammit. I knew you would do this.”

“Hey, I’m not! I’m not. I swear. Look I’ll teach you. It’ll be cute and romantic. Just come with me? Please?”

“I don’t know...What if I fall?”

“I’ll pick you up again. I’ll always pick you up again.”

Well wasn’t that just sweet as fucking pie. Ugh.

“Fine. text me the details while I try and extract myself from this horrid lunch.”

“K. I love you.”

“Yea, I love you too.”

There had been a lot of firsts in your life since meeting shawn. First award show. First paparazzi. First selfie on the street. And none of them, absolutely none of them were as surprising to you at him getting your ass on an ice rink. When he told you they’d invited him to skate, you figure hat meant the rest of the team would be there too. Shawn never did anything without inviting everyone else along with him. Needless to say that when you show up and it’s just you two and apparently Josiah for all picture taking needs, you’re a little confused.

It only takes the two Maple Leafs jerseys with both of your names on them to poke at the idea that this wasn’t as random as he may have made it sound.

“You’ll think it’s stupid.” He mumbled handing you the jersey with Mendes on, so that he could wear the one with your name on it instead. “But I had a dream the other night that we went ice skating. And we just had so much fun. So I might have called and made a special request but...now you’re standing here in front of me and I’m so unbelievably happy so… I don’t know; I think it was worth it.”

“That is not stupid.” you huffed and took his hands in yours. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. I hope my whole inability to skate doesn’t bust your narrative.”

“I’m with you. That was the most important part.”

The skates themselves are scary. And you nearly break your ankles getting them on. Shawn takes pity and ties them for you. He lets his fingers skim over your leggings clad thighs. He dug in slightly where they bulged the most, at your hips. His nose skimmed against yours and when he kissed you it just all made sense. You felt like you were living fully in that moment, like you were exactly where you needed to be. In this wild ass big ass arena next to a block of ice with the man who made your heart go crazy. It felt like what you needed in that moment. What he needed. Maybe his dream had been on to something after all.

“Just hold my hand and I’ll lead you around the ice alright?”

“What if I fall like James Corden and when you pull me up all you see is James Corden and then you never want to have sex with me again because I looks like James Corden?”

Shawn expertly stopped himself on the ice and stared at you with exasperated eyes.

“Sweetheart. I can tell you with the utmost honesty, with all of my heart that nothing about your body reminds me of James Corden. Nothing. Nada. Now please? Shall we?”

You reach for his hands hesitantly and he guides you onto the ice. Your legs wobble immediately and you almost go down. But, he pulls you in chest to chest, hands falling to your hips.

“I got you. See? I got you.” He chuckled in your ear.

You whined softly. “This is horrible.”

He skates backwards, because of course he does, and hold your hands in his. It’s not that you necessarily get the hang of it at all. It’s more so that you stop trying and you just let him pull you around the rink. It’s kind of sweet actually. He asks you about your day and laughs when you make fun of Stu’s friends. He tells you about a fall he had this afternoon that took his breath away. He hit his knee so hard that he felt his balls retract into his body. And that frankly was just the funniest shit you’d ever heard in your life. So funny that you lose your balance and definitely take both of you down to the ice with a hard thud.

“Shit.” He groaned crawling on top of you. “I tell you a story about me falling, so you figure you’ll take us both down?”

You giggled uncontrollably. “It was an accident.”

“You know I told you that story for you to feel sorry for me? To be nice to me. Not laugh at me.” He smirked down at you. “You look so pretty though. I can’t even be mad.”

“Yea? This jersey thing do it for you?”

His eyes roamed over your body as he bit at his lip.

“In my head you were just wearing the jersey and nothing else, but yes...It does it for me.” He hummed. “If you wanna get off the ice, I’d still like to skate with you even though you were mean to me.”

“If you can get my fat ass off this ground. I’ll skate with you as much as you want.”

It is far more romantic than you cared to admit. His cheeks get red and rosey. Your nose gets cold and he just happens to have a warm neck to hide it in. He makes you laugh and he skates in circles around you. You love him more than you could ever imagine yourself loving someone. And isn’t that just scary as all hell? You didn’t know how you could be apart from someone for six months and all of those feelings, all of those emotions still be there. How did he do it? How did he make you love him like that?

It’s not until he stops in the middle of the ice and pulls you between his legs that you find your answer. His fingers skim over your hair which was in two matching buns atop your head. He smiles down at you like you are the sun and the earth and his heart all in one.

“You’ve never warn your hair this way before.” He whispers. “It’s so pretty. You’re so pretty.”

You smiled up at him. “I saw a hair tutorial on youtube when I was supposed to be helping Stu pick out outfits. I really like them. They’re called space buns.”

“Space buns aye? I love them.” He chuckled. “Hey, tonight after the show there’s gonna be the big party of course, and all my friends from the industry and from home will be there, and I’m sure it’s all gonna be wild but...I wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course.”

“Would you wanna….go get pizza with me? Like before the party.”

You snort softly. “Pizza?”

“Yea. I haven’t had it since tour started. I really miss our pizza friendship dates.”

“But what about the party?”

“The party can wait. I just want to have pizza with the really pretty girl from across the hall.” He murmured squeezing your hands. “Will you go with me?”

And that’s when you know. That you’d been set up to fail from the beginning. You were always going to love him, because no one had ever been created with such a capacity for it. You would love him and love him and love him for the rest of your days because it’s all that your heart had been destined for. He was it.

“Yea. fuck yea.”

“Fuck yea!” He chuckled.

“Fuck yea!”

Your voices echo off the ice and his hands pull you close, pull you closer until there’s no space between his body and yours. It’s just the two of you. And a lot of love. That’s all.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s buzzing. He’s absolutely fucking buzzing from his toes to the tips of his hair. It’s the most electric it’s ever felt. It's never felt this good before. He looks out into the crowd and it’s hard to find the individual faces now. Because there’s fifty fucking thousand people looking back at him. And he’s got no idea how he ever got this lucky, how anyone ever decided to come to his shows let alone this many. All he knows is that he’s sweaty everywhere, his fingers are shaking, and he’s so goddamn in love with life in this moment that he’s gotta share it. He’s gotta get it out of him somehow, someway.

“You guys mind if I play a new one for you tonight?” He murmured into the mic as his fingers fluttered on the keys.

They scream in approval and he smiles. It means so fucking much to him.

“Cool.” He chuckled.

His fingers start to map out the tune that he’d written in a hotel room on a cheap keyboard when his heart hurt and he’d been sick with the pain. Somehow something beautiful had come out of it, even if he couldn’t stomach the words until now. Until tonight. But, he couldn’t imagine sharing this song with fifty thousand people without sharing it with her first. So he was just gonna have to do both.

“Hi. Sorry. One second.”

He gets off the chair of the piano and heads towards the steps instead. The fans keep screaming and reaching out for him. He lets his fingers trail along theirs until he finds her. There. Nestled into barricade alongside Stu and Bryan and Andrew. He reaches out for her hand and she looks a little petrified. Fair.

“What in the HELL are you doing?!” She yelled at him.

He just smiled dopely. She could yell at him for the rest of his life. In fact he hoped that she would. Just as long as she let him hold her hand while she did it.

“Come here. I need to share something with you!” He attempted to explain.

“NOW?!”

“Yes. Now! Don’t be difficult sweetheart. It’s just you and me.”

And fifty thousand of their closest friends.

He has no idea how he gets her up there. He just knows that her hands are shaking, and at the end of the day so are his. Maybe they still them together. She sits on the bench and he sits beside her, and she refuses to look up at the screen to see her own face there. She only looks at him so he only looks at her and the keys as he sings.

You say there's so much you don't know

You need to go and find yourself

You say you'd rather be alone

'Cause you think you won't find it tied to someone else

Ooh, who said it's true

That the growing only happens on your own?

They don't know me and you

I don't think you have to leave

If to change is what you need

You can change right next to me

When you're high, I'll take the lows

You can ebb and I can flow

And we'll take it slow

And grow as we go

Grow as we go

She’s never heard it before. And she starts to cry after the first verse. Only they could know what it meant, what those words were about. It’s a beautiful song, but it’s one full of heartache and love and not knowing whether or not it could ever be enough. It feels like this really important moment for the two of them. Important enough that he doesn’t regret pulling her on stage, all of the eyes and phones, any of it. It’s worth it for her to know.

She wraps her arm around his bicep like they’re at home. It almost feels like they are. He wants to wipe her tears, but he kind of has to play, so he kisses them instead. She starts to cry a little harder so she just hides her face in his arm instead. And that’s okay. That’s so much more than okay.

Tell me you don’t want to leave

Cause if change is what you need

You can change right next to me

When you’re high, I’ll take the low

You can ebb and I can flow

And we’ll take it slow

And grow as we go

Grow as we go

The last note comes out and the crowd goes so crazy that the floor shakes beneath his feet. His heart is hammering in his chest and he pulls her closer to him just to still his shaking limbs. He tugs out his inner ear monitors to hear her. He’s afraid to kiss her and have it not feel authentic, not feel real because everyone’s watching. So he just holds her and speaks into her ear instead.

“I love you. More than anything.”

“I love you too.” She sniffled still crying. “I love you so much.”

Her arms grow tight around his neck and his heart soars. He’d give anything to end the show right there right now to just go eat pizza and play with her space buns for the rest of the night. But there’s a show to finish. So he’s got no choice but to lead her off stage and place her back into the arms of her best friend in the hopes that he can focus for another hour. Here’s a hoping.

***

“You’re wearing my jersey.” She giggled as he cornered her in a booth to do some more of that fabulous kissing he had thoroughly missed so much.

He chuckled against her neck. “Yes. Yes I am. Gotta let people know who I belong to right?”

“Shit. Don’t say shit like that when we have to go to a party after this.” She whined. “I thought you wanted pizza.”

“I do. I do. You just keep fucking distracting me. Wait here.”

He goes to order their meal and gets a lot of squeals thrown at him. He promises to take a picture after their meal in the hopes that it gets him a little more privacy during their meal. It definitely doesn’t. They definitely take photos of them. He tried at least.

“Do you remember the time we got so fucking stoned and went on a walk for pizza and got lost?” She asks him as they dig in.

He immediately bust out laughing and leaned into her shoulder to control the shakes.

“We never made it a block away from the apartment! Holy shit that was the best night ever.”

“And then we got uber eats and fucking fell alseep before it got there. We are such pieces of shit!”

He shrugged. “We did our best. I tipped the guy the next morning, didn’t I?”

“You sure did. My man’s a big spender when he forgets to get his twenty dollar mcdonalds.”

“Oh funny. You’re being funny now. Wonderful.”

She snorted and hid her face in his shoulder. Wow. He was so in love with her.

They sit there eating pizza and making each other laugh and it without a doubt is exactly like it used to be when they were still getting to know each other, back when every time she smiled at him he had to look away because it hurt too much.She’s still his best friend. The difference is now she knows he’d do anything for her, that she’s everything to him. The difference is now he knows she feels exactly the same way.

“Can we leave the party early and go home and cuddle?” He mumbled nibbling at the patch of skin near her shoulder blade where her too big jersey had exposed her.

She giggled. “Depends on how much tequila we drink, now doesn’t it?”

“Just wanna cuddle.”

“Yea? Then I guess we’ll cuddle.”

“Promise?” He murmured, pulling her forehead closer to his.

“Promise.”

She keeps it that night.

The End.

Taglist: @kitykatnumber @lou-and-me​ @ourlittleshawnie @mutuallynotmutual @wanderingmendes @peacedolantwins2 @chels-nyc @@illloveyouforever1​ @justbeingoceana @grittyisathot @hayyitsfayy​ @claredolphinbear24​  @september-lace @grittyaho @literallyshawn @mchutchmendes @liliane106 @iloveshawnieboi @samwillllson @trappedinfairytales @abbersalp @rosesfromcth

[fangirlingwhileblacktarot]

You Have Created A Monster

Summary: Dean x Reader, fluff, kid-related fluff, fluff w/ some angst. You are temporarily incapacitated and Dean offers to help you with a task. Sam is around as well.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

Trigger Warnings: Mention of a chronic, painful injury, physical disability, single-parent issues, death of a loved one

Word Count: 1900-ish

A/N: This is for Taylor aka @impalaimagining​’s “Things Nobody Likes Challenge” in honor of her Birthday! My prompt is “styling hair”. Thank you Taylor for your awesome beta-reading skills and Happy (Pre-) Birthday!!

Even after you insisted that you could manage alone, Dean and Sam had stuck around for a couple of days. Dean even showed you some extra kindness by offering to help you shower, before you declined (with some hesitation). The braces on both wrists were supposed to ease your ongoing carpal tunnel pain. Consequently, being nearly squeezed to death by the snake-like tendrils of an Echidna monster hadn’t helped your situation.

You were honestly having a pity party, yourself as the Guest of Honor. You were a grown-ass woman, used to doing everything yourself and most things for other people, including Maya, your six-year-old daughter. The current obstacles was styling her hair before an important visit. With the numbness in your fingers, the weakness in your arms, it was difficult to just make a straight part through her forest of dark, unruly curls. In frustration, you directed her to go watch her favorite tv show and laid back on the bed, accepting defeat.

Minutes later, there was a rhythmic knock at the door.

“You better be careful letting Maya hang with Sam,” Dean said after opening the door. “He’s telling her about The Neverending Story and the Dark Crystal. It’s an old-school nerd takeover. We better get in there before it’s too late.”

“He also introduced her to The Care Bears,” you said in Sam’s defense.

“Yeah - those things are pure evil. Nothing can be that happy all the damn time.”

Dean was dressed in a midnight blue t-shirt and jeans. His feet were bare on your hardwood floor, and his hair was still wet from the shower. You tried to ignore the delicious, toned muscles of his arms and attempt blindness to how good he looked in your bedroom.

“Oh, she’ll be fine. I’m the one who always ends up hurt when you guys show up.”

You were aware of how whiny you sounded, but you didn’t care.

“And we always save your butt. Like when an Echidna is going for the kill,” he reminded you. He was not having any of your bullshit that day. There would be no pity parties on his watch. “Besides, I think you like me patching you up. There are better, less dangerous ways to get me to touch you, Y/N. You can cut out the middle-man, or monster, in this case.”

“Maybe another time, like when my ex’s mother isn’t on her way to pick up my child. That woman is not my biggest fan, you know.”

“She’s obviously not right in the head.”

You needed the laugh that created. Dean’s loyalty to his friends, you included, was one of your favorite things about him.

“Yeah, she blames me for Jason’s death.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

You nodded in agreement, though it still hurt.

“You did an amazing job with her.”

He was doing it again. You were perplexed, but reluctantly invested in how proud Dean acted toward you and Maya.

“Move over,” he softly directed. You made room on the bed, but stubbornly stayed lying down. The familiar, warm and flirty scent of your body wash drifted from Dean’s skin.

“How’s the web-shooters?” He asked.

“Fine,” you lied. “How’s your ribs?”

“Just peachy…I’ll live…Hey, I have a question about Maya.”

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Don’t take this personal but, what’s going on with her hair today?”

“Her hair?”

“Yeah, it’s always so…uh, neat. And now it’s…kinda not your style?”

“Oh God, even you noticed it! The witch will use it against me, just watch.” The panic began setting in.

“What can I do?”

“Give me a spell that would make my daughter’s grandmother a nicer human being? Otherwise - I got this. I just have to wrestle my child’s hair into submission, as usual.At least this is not the stupidest injury I’ve had. That was when I coughed so hard I blew a blood vessel in my eye. I actually made up a monster story to cover up my lameness.“

“Speaking of lameness…Y/N, I know you’re not okay.” His voice felt deeper, richer as it trickled down to you. “Come on, let me help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“Your daughter’s hair.”

You were about to laugh when you looked up at his face. He was serious. Her clothes and other needed items were packed. Her hair was really the last thing you needed to complete. That was your parental job. How did he think he could just…do it? He had no clue. You imagined what a bird’s nest he would leave on Maya’s head and inwardly cringe. Dean was good at many things, but this didn’t seem to fit his skill set.

“I gave my brother all of his haircuts growing up…”

“That’s nice, but not exactly…”

“How much time you got?”

You checked your cell phone. “Oh shit, 38 minutes!”

"Well, it’s either me, Sam, or it doesn’t happen. Or Maya could do it herself. I’m sure she’ll love that,” he said with a knowing smirk.

You cringed more remembering that time she put a bag of melted gummy bears in her hair…

“I can do it,” you insisted, willing yourself to sit up against the headboard with painful effort.

“I know how you are, but I can help.”

“How am I?”

“You know. You’re very DE-tailed.”

You couldn’t argue too much with his assessment.

“Exactly! I got this,” you repeated.

“Okay, if you insist,” he said, obviously not believing you because he had a working pair of eyes, and brain.

With perfect timing, Maya ran into the room with the sparkly pink container that held her hair accessories and climbed onto the bed.

“Mom, did you pack me some deodorant?”

“Maya, we’ve been over this. Your cousins are older than you, so they can wear deodorant. You, ladybug, do not need it.”

“I’ll just ask Grandma to buy me some,” she said dismissively.

“I love this kid,” Dean laughed. “Guess what, Sweetie? Your mom’s ready to do your hair,” Deans added, then he got comfy against the headboard, arms crossed, ready for a show.

“I want everything purple to match my outfit,” your child announced.

“Sure, ladybug – let’s get started.”

You sat her between the two of you, handed her a tablet for her to watch her favorite animated movie, and began. The results were sad. The wrist splints were awkward, getting in your way. You took them off and tried again. Damn!!! It HURT to do the smallest movement, even one you’d done numerous times before. Maya’s thick head of curls was normally a thing of beauty, but at the moment, it was just a source of torture.

Your cellphone decided to ring at the worst time. Reaching for it and answering was out of the question. Dean grabbed it.

“The Evil Grandmother,” he said, and swiped to answer the call before you can protest. “Hello…She’s in the bathroom…Yes, Mrs. Bridges. This is Dean…Yes, THAT Dean…No, but wouldn’t it be nice if I did? Yes, Ma’am. I will be sure to tell her.”

“What did she say?”

“She wanted to remind you that she is picking up her grandchild. She knows you have an awful memory for things. And she asked if I was now living here.”

You reached over and whispered in his ear.

“You know she’s convinced that I cheated on Jason with you and somehow, that caused his death…She watches way too much I.D. Channel. We weren’t even together-together when it happened.”

“Ha! Tell her that I was not the homewrecking side chick…” he started before looking at a very attentive Maya and then lowering his voice. “…That would be her son, since I met you first.”

He was opening the door to the inevitable discussion you needed to have. Unfortunately, this was…

“Not the time, huh?”

“Pretty much. But you win, I need your help!”

Having already expected this outcome, Dean rubbed his hands together, promptly grabbed the chair from your writing desk, bringing it bedside.

“Your Mom is allowing me the privilege of doing your hair today.”

Maya did a double-take, but moved to the chair when she saw you nodding that it was okay.

“Okay, but you gotta hurry. Grandma is gonna be here soon,” she told Dean before picking up the tablet again. Dean looked at you in surprise and you just laughed.

You were doing it again. The affection you had attempted to bury was digging itself up, cleaning itself off, and gaining oxygen and space.

Dean grabbed his weapon of choice, the hair comb.

“Okay, I’m going in.”

The comb edge made contact with the top her head. He was always so gentle, you knew you need not worry, but he was also so slow that you couldn’t help it. It was like he was afraid to break the child.

“How’s that?” Dean asked and stepped back from his work.

“That’s perfect…If the middle of her head was on the left,” you teased. “Try again Daniel-san,” you gave your best Mr. Miyagi voice.

Dean huffed at you in frustration, stretched his neck, rolled his shoulders back. He was ready to do battle again. As a hunter, whether it was fighting, shooting or working some kind of magic - Dean always made things look easy, almost effortless. You couldn’t remember when you’d last seen him concentrate as hard on something, as he was with Maya’s hair.

“Sweetie, can you turn around and look at me?” He asked.

“Like this?” Maya said, immediately turning to face Dean.

“Perfect. Sit still for second, please.”

Using her nose as a guide, he used the length of the comb to measure what should be the middle of her head. Once he marked his spot, he had her turn around and continued the parting line down the back of her head.

“Done!” he announced in triumph at the perfect straight line he’d created.

“Bravo! I think you did it even better than me on a normal day,” you said sincerely.

Sam walked in from the hall, clapping his hands, causing Maya to do the same.

“Great start, brilliant – what other tricks can you pull off Houdini?”

“I could put you in a headlock,” Dean offered. “But this lovely young lady has all my attention right now.”

You directed Dean on how to make a ponytail. After overcoming some roasting from Sam, he finished with time to spare. It all ended in success with two nice, not-quite-perfect, but passable, pigtails on Maya’s beautiful little noggin.

“Not bad. I guess those videos helped,” Sam said, while Dean gave him a dirty look.

“What videos?” You asked.

“He’s been on YouTube watching some ‘Daddies doing their daughters’ hair’ videos. He didn’t tell you?”

***

A couple of weeks later, on a lazy Sunday morning, Maya jumped into your bed, effectively waking you up in a whirl of kid-energy and excitement.

“Mom! Dean did my hair again. I look like a mermaid unicorn!”

You blinked, trying to get a better look. It was…interesting.  Lots of ponytails, colorful barrettes, and ponytail holders everywhere. Maya was overjoyed. You realized you had created one hairstyle-patenting monster in Dean Winchester. Maya’s new hairstyle was a hot-ass mess.

And also one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen.

[wickedsingularity]

Writer Interview

Tagged by @dirajunara, thank you for giving me something to do at work, it’s quiet here today...

1) What made you start writing for the first time?

I’m not entirely sure what made me start writing. I’m old, and it’s a long long long time ago. I just know that I enjoyed writing essays in school. But then, as I got older, there were more restrictions on the essays, they had to be about something so specific and sometimes analyse stupid subjects, and I couldn’t be creative anymore. So I gave up. I remember one essay, I had to see my Norwegian teacher and say that I couldn’t hand it in, because I had been unable to write a damn word. I was like 13 or 14 I think.

When I was finished with that kind of school, and started “videregående” (possibly the equivalent of high school, I don’t know) I started writing fanfiction. I have no idea what made me do it, what I had come across, what I had done or read or anything, but I started writing a Tekken fanfiction. Must have been 16-17, possibly. I rewrote it countless times, because I couldn’t make up my mind about writing in English or Norwegian. At one point, I think I even wrote dialogue in one language and narrative the other. This story has never been posted, never coming anywhere near being finished. I toyed with the idea of turning it into original fiction, because I like the idea I had. Maybe one day.

Then, when I actually started to become a huge Harry Potter fan, I started writing something worth posting online. My first ever fic, a Draco Malfoy x Original Female Character, first part 14 chapters, second part 12 chapters plus epilogue. The first review I got on it was November 2nd 2006, I was 20 (I downloaded the reviews from HPFF before I took them down). Back then it was easy to write.... I had energy, no worries, lived at home, barely any homework, school from 9-2 four days a week... *wistful sigh*

2) If you could only write about the ocean, the forest, or the desert for the rest of your life, which one would you pick?

I think I would definitely pick the forest. It’s what calls to me the most, and I could write about talking trees, all the real and imaginary forest creatures.

3) Would you ever write a memoir?

God no. Do you have any idea how fucking boring my life is? My best (and kinda only) friend lives halfway across the world, I barely see my family because they’re all useless. I go to work, sit at a desk for 7.5 hours, go home, stew and brood and hate my life on the couch until I go to bed again.

If insomnia became a huge problem in the world, I’d do it. My memoir could put anyone to sleep.

4) Do you like writing by hand, or writing with a computer?

I used to like both. Until my carpal tunnel became a pain in the ass. I’ve had surgery for it, but my right hand has never really been the same since. I can’t even knit anymore. TMI, I’m wearing a wrist brace most of the time so at least I can get off every once in a while without hurting myself too much. So now, it’s on a computer only. Sometimes my phone. A tiny smidge on paper.

5) Would you rather be popular among many readers, or unpopular, but loved by critics?

Popular among many readers. I hate critics. In Norway, most critics are very negative about everything that does not fit inside their tiny tiny bubble. Because apparently getting someone who likes... I don’t know... movies that study the psyche of a hair dresser that collects the hair of his customers to review a superhero movie makes total sense. (And yes, there was a movie like that years ago.) All critics here are all about the fragile, the deep troubled issues of a... rock by the beach, the hidden meaning in stuff.

And it’s the people who actually read my stuff that I care about. The people that pick up my story and want to read it for whatever reason. I don’t give a rat’s ass about some stuck up critic.

6) Do you listen to music while you write? What is the best writing music?

Sometimes. When I do, it’s either the soundtrack for all the Harry Potter movies, the soundtrack to all the Cap movies or the soundtrack to the Dragon Age games. I don’t like listening to music with lyrics. It’s distracting. I need to be really into what I’m writing if I’m gonna do that. I managed to write for hours with a Selena Gomez album on repeat, but I was so into the story I didn’t hear a peep of the music.

7) Do people you’ve met find their way into your writing?

Not so much yet. But I have promised my best friend a role in an Avengers series I’m working a bit on, but I sort of wrote her into it without knowing it long before she asked me about it :) I tried to base the little sister of an original character in a Harry Potter series I’m writing on an ex-friend of mine, but I don’t like this friend anymore, so I need to change the little sister’s name (cause the name is half of my ex-friend’s name) and work on her personality a bit more.

So, subconsciously, I think people in my life make their way into my stories. When I’m working on Until Next Time, the main character’s family is basically mine and how I imagine they would react if I had stepped into the main character’s shoes. Which is depressing, but not surprising. In Rogue Shadow, my parents are her parents, and the way I’m planning it and have written it so far, makes me very sad. Certain parts I’ve written, I’ve cried while writing, because... Well, I’m saving that for when I get around to posting it.

Tagging: @iguess-theyre-mymess @lemonlime799 @arelyhb I don’t know if you guys have done it already, feel free to ignore me :) But if anyone else wanna do it, let me know so I can read it!

[oli-vi-aaaaaaa]

Request:  Hi!❤ I wanted to request a bellamy x reader image: Bellamy and reader are rly close friends and are secretly in love with each other. but bellamy doesn’t think that she is in love with him so eventually he gives up and has a girlfriend (gina or sb). reader is rly jealous and a real mess so she starts doing rly dangerous things to distract herself from that. bellamy catches her one time and is very worried. He breaks up with his gf later and confesses his feelings for the reader. thank you! ❤

A/N: i think i have carpal tunnel so its actually painful to write imagines which is terrible. this is a long one tho. ps - i changed the the scenario a little, hope you don’t mind:3 (this is set in season 1 btw)

I looked over at Gina in disgust as she played with Bellamy’s hair and giggled at everything he said. “I should be playing with his hair,” I muttered under my breath. I rolled my eyes and began mocking her, “Oh Bellamy, I love you so much! You’re the hottest guy in the camp and I’m just with you for your looks and because you’re the camp leader!” I pounded down my hammer bitterly while staring at the camp’s ‘cutest couple’. “Shit,” I yelled out, realizing I accidentally hit the hammer onto my finger. I felt my finger throb and clutched it to my chest. 

“You okay, Y/n?” Finn asked from behind me. I turned to face him. 

“Yeah, I just wasn’t paying attention while working with a hammer. Not a good idea by the way,” I joked. Finn chuckled.

“Well if it means anything to you, I don’t like Gina either,” he whispered to me. My eyes widened and I started to blush, realizing he heard me mocking her. Finn started laughing and I rolled my eyes playfully.

“It isn’t funny,” I exclaimed. He held up his hands in defense and smiled. 

“Okay, okay. Anyways, I was wondering if you could go out to get some food? We’re almost out and I would go but I have a lot of work to do around here,” he asked me. 

“Sure, anything to get away from Gina,” I told him. 

“Thanks, I owe you,” he told me, giving me a bright smile.

“No problem Finn.”

“I’m going out to get food Clarke,” I yelled, grabbing a gun and some bullets. 

I was halfway out the gate before she yelled back, “You need to bring someone with you Y/N! We travel in pairs remember?” 

“It’s fine, I can take care of myself,” I assured, resuming my walk out the gate. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell by the dark circles under your eyes, and your throbbing finger!” I rolled my eyes and ignored her, walking out into the forest alone.

I mindlessly stumbled across tree roots and rocks, not paying attention to where I was going at all. That was obviously a mistake because suddenly, I was falling. I face planted into the dirt. I turned onto my back and felt a shooting pain in my leg. I looked down at my leg. My ankle was red and already starting to swell. I tried to move it but an excruciating pain racked through my entire leg. I held back a scream but couldn’t stop the tears that were now streaming down my cheeks. 

“Y/n!” I heard a familiar voice call out. I looked up and saw Bellamy running towards me. He kneeled beside me and started cursing quietly. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he mumbled, his hands hovering over my ankle, unsure of what to do.

“I know right,” I whispered hoarsely, my voice cracking slightly. I let out a weak chuckle. He looked at my face for the first time since he found me and I saw his facial expression soften. He wiped away my tears. However the moment was over as quickly as it started. “Why are you here?” I asked bitterly, “And why isn’t Gina here?” 

“I’m here because you’re my friend and I was worried about you, and for good reason obviously,” he explained. “And why would Gina be here? It’s not like she follows me everywhere I go.” 

“Well I hate to break it to you Bellamy, but she does follow you everywhere you go. Can’t believe you haven’t noticed.” 

“Okay, what’s your deal? I came here to help you but you’re being a total dick,” he questioned, his voice getting louder with every word. 

“Well maybe I didn’t want you come! That was the entire point of coming! To get away from you and Gina,” I yelled. 

“What is that supposed to mean,” he yelled back. Before I got to answer his question I heard the sound of an arrow being shot. It hit a tree a few feet in front of us. 

We both looked at each other with wide eyes. In a few seconds time we had a silent conversation. I grabbed my gun that had slid a few inches away when I fell and Bellamy picked me up. He began to run and I aimed at the grounder.  

“On the count of three start shooting, okay? One, two, three!” I instantly started shooting at the grounder as Bellamy ran as fast as his legs would carry us. I shot the grounder in the leg and then the stomach, watching as he fell down. Then another jumped down from the trees. Somehow, through all the shaking and unsteadiness I managed to shoot him in the head, and he dropped dead instantly.

“Are we clear?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I got them,” I told him. I winced as my leg shook, pain shooting up it once again.

“Sorry,” he breathed. He slowed down enough to press a quick kiss to my head before speeding back up again. I felt my heart speed up and pressed myself closer to him. 

We made it back to camp in around twenty minutes. “Let us in!” Bellamy shouted from outside the gate. 

“It’s Bellamy,” I heard someone shout. 

“Open her up,” someone else shouted. The gate opened and Bellamy rushed in. A few people crowded around us until Bellamy shooed them away, causing them to all scatter.

“Here, let me down, Bell. I can walk the rest of the way. You carried me the whole time,” I offered. 

“No, you’re hurt. I’m not letting you hurt yourself even more,” he replied. 

“Seriously, Bell. Please. I feel bad you had to carry me all that way. I’ll use you for support. What’s the worst that could happen between now and twenty feet away?” I asked. He gave me a look before letting out a sigh. He shifted and then slowly let me down. I grabbed onto his shoulder for support and he wrapped his arm tightly around my waist, holding me up. 

I saw Gina’s face instantly brighten when she saw Bellamy but began glare at me when she saw me in his arms. She came rushing up to us and started pulling on his arm. 

“Bellamy come with me, I need to show you something,” she whined. 

“I need to get Y/n to Clarke first. I might even stay the night in the drop ship, she’s really messed up,” Bellamy explained, shrugging her off. I saw Gina’s face drop and then she was glaring at me again. 

“Just come on Bellamy, I really want to hang out with you today,” she begged. 

“Gina I can’t!” he yelled. I saw her face flush and she looked absolutely outraged. She gave me a sharp glare, making me shrink into Bellamy’s side. 

She moved to walk past me, only to slide her foot under mine, successfully tripping me. I let out a yelp, both in pain and surprise, falling forward for the second time today. Bellamy grabbed my hips tightly, pulling me to him. My eyes welled up with tears and I let out heavy breaths, trying to get my pain under control. 

“What the hell Gina! You could’ve seriously hurt her! Why the hell would you do that,” Bellamy screamed. 

“I-” 

“You know what, don’t even talk to me! Just go away,” he barked out, cutting her off. She gave me one last glare and then stalked away. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. I sniffled and nodded my head. “Let’s get you to Clarke, okay?” 

“Okay,” I whispered.

He helped me limp over to the drop ship, which we now used as a hospital of sorts. “Oh my god! What happened?” Clarke asked as soon as Bellamy helped me through the doorway. 

“She fell,” he stated. 

“Technically, I tripped and then face planted,” I piped up. Both Clarke and Bellamy rolled their eyes and I shrunk into Bellamy’s chest. He rubbed my back and then asked where he could put me. 

“Over here,” she said, pointing to a cot in the corner of the first level. 

“I need to go grab something from my tent that will help with her, I’ll be right back,” Clarke told us. Bellamy nodded his head in acknowledgement and then carried me over to the cot. He set me down as gently as he could but I still flinched a little when my leg touched the cot. 

“Sorry,” he whispered. I looked up at him and saw a guilty expression on his face. 

“Hey, it’s fine,” I told him, grabbing onto his hand. He gave me a close mouthed smile and rubbed my hand with his thumb. I flinched when he touched the finger I had crushed this morning, causing his eyebrows to furrow. He looked down and saw my extremely bruised finger with dried up blood on it that I hadn’t realized was there. 

“What happened?” he asked, concern flooding all of his features. 

“I got distracted by something when I was working on the wall with a hammer earlier today,” I explained bashfully. 

“What distracted you,” he asked, smirking. I blushed and looked away.

“You,” I whispered. His smirk got even bigger and he was practically oozing cockiness. “Don’t be too proud of yourself. You know how I am, I get distracted by anything that’s cute or shiny,” I shot at him. 

“So you think I’m cute,” he questioned. 

“No! Well, maybe. I mean, no!” He smiled at me and winked. 

“Well I think you’re adorable,” he told me. I felt my entire face turn red and I looked away shyly.

“I’m back,” Clarke announced, walking back into the drop ship. She had a white bandage in her hand. “This is for your ankle, the pressure of the bandage will help it heal,” she explained. She wrapped the bandage around my ankle tightly and I flinched, instinctively clutching onto Bellamy’s hand. He squeezing me hand, taking his other hand and ran it through my hair. 

“What next?” Bellamy asked. 

“We don’t have any ice so she just needs to keep her leg still and wait for it to heal,” Clarke replied. “You can go on back to your tent Bell, all she needs is some rest now. I’ll stay with her overnight to watch over her,” Clarke told him. I felt my heart fall at the thought of him leaving.

“No, it’s okay, Clarke. I’ll stay with her. You rest up, you deserve it,” he replied.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

He nodded before looking down at me and smiling. 

Clarke walked out and I heard a chorus of goodnights from outside the dropship. Bellamy walked across the room and grabbed a cloth, dumping it in a bucket of water. He squeezed it out and brought it over, wiping away the dirt on my face. 

“Thanks,” I whispered. He smiled softly in return. He discarded of the cloth and then pulled a chair up next to me, sitting down in it. He grabbed my hand, running his thumb over my knuckles and slowly lulling me to sleep. 

I woke up to Bellamy screaming at someone outside of the drop ship. “No Gina, we’re done! What you did to Y/n was the final straw! I’m done with you,” he shouted. 

“Fine! Leave me for that whore, but don’t come crawling back to me when you realize how much better I am!” She shouted back, just as loud as him. 

“What the hell did you just say about her?” he asked. If I didn’t know any better I would’ve swore that he sounded like he was going to murder her. 

“Bellamy,” I called out weakly, hoping that if I intervene no further damage would be made. 

“We’ll continue this later,” he muttered. I heard her walk away before Bellamy appeared in the doorway before walking over to my side. grabbing my hand

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he asked, grabbing my hand.

“Were you talking with Gina?” I questioned, even though I already knew the answer.

“Yeah, I broke up with her,” he told me.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, you don’t need to worry about me, princess,” he assured. I blushed at the nickname.

“Why did you break up with her?“

"Because what she did to you wasn’t okay,” he told me.

“So it’s my fault? God, I’m so sorry Bell,” I whispered, staring up at him guiltily. 

“No! No, of course it isn’t your fault. It’s my fault because I couldn’t give Gina what she deserved in the relationship. Because I have feelings for someone else,” he explained, playing with the bottom of his shirt. I felt my face fall, realizing he had feelings for another girl.

“Who is it?” I inquired, slightly bitter.

“You.” My head shot up to look at him.

“Seriously?”

 “Yeah, I’m in love with you Y/n,” he admitted. 

“I guess I went out and got my knee dislocated for no reason then,” I replied. He let out a loud laugh before leaning towards me and pressing his lips on mine.