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nescaveckwriter · 13 days

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Stethoscopes & Triangles - Chapter Five 💕

A/N: OMW😱😱😱... My nerves are shot, this is an intense chapter, get some popcorn and maybe anxiety meds😂(just joking).. so sit back and enjoy. 💕

Warnings: 18+ Only! Some language, angst, heartbreak, mention of death, hard scenes, terror , bombs , anything else I missed let me know💕

Characters: Sam Winchester, Amy Summers, Cas Paul Summers, Dean Winchester.

Cover: Created by me. Also images from Pinterest and Canva.

Words:3310😅

Chapter Five 🤩

The clock on the wall, strikes seven, the large man sits at his desk, the office is quiet as all the other people has gone home too their loved ones, his usual put together look, is now signs of a stressed man, his eyes darker and tired as he darts across the stack of papers in front of him, his tie loosened, the first few buttons of his light blue shirt is undone, he's eyebrows furrowed, as he tried to see if his taken care of all the evidence, all the witnesses, since Paul Summers left he had this dreadful feeling, something is going to happen, but he just can't put his finger on it, no matter how long it takes he will figure it out tonight, nothing is going to distract him, with that thought he puts his phone on silent.

Her first day back was exhausting to say the least, she was literally dead on her feet, pretty sure, she had to deal with more patients today on her first day back, than in her entire career. Okay, maybe that's not entirely true, but still, it's how she felt… Well luckily, it's the end of her shift, so she can go home. As she wàlked through the doors, she remembered what happened between her and Sam. Her heart sank, he hadn't even called or texted her. Then it must be true, he found another one to love. Feeling her phone vibrating, smiling slightly now, thinking it's Sam…

“Hello” sounds hopeful

“Hello sweetie” hearing her father's voice has always made her feel somewhere between happy and stressed.

“Oh hello dad”

"Expecting someone else honey?”

“It's okay, can I help with something?”

“Just want to know if you are finished at work?”

“Yes I am dad, why do you ask?”

“Oh! Just wanted to find out if I could come over for dinner?”

“Uhm… dad, I … well tonight's not a good night, I’m a little tired”

“Oh it’s okay, we can make it another night then, are you taking the subway again?” she could’ve sworn she heard her father chuckle.

“Thanks for understanding dad, and yes I am”

He stayed quiet, then his voice got softer. “Sweetie do you still remember how I’d take you on the subway, while you were still a small little girl, - I miss those”

Smiling, remembering, those were the days, where her father was still so kind, sweet and loving.. “Yes dad, I miss those days as well, we should do it again some time.”

His voice returned to the normal cold tone “Yes! I have to go now, good bye”

Before she could even respond he ended the call. Shaking her head while holding the phone in her hand, her fingers instinctively scrolls through her phone, pressing on the dial icon, Sam, a picture of him, comes on the screen, but it just keeps ringing, and ringing, till eventually, she hears his professional voice “You’ve reached Sam Winchester, call the office, or leave a message” feeling the burning pressure behind her eyes, as she puts the phone in and walk into the subway.

Taking in her usual spot, popping in her earbuds, listening to Patsy Cline, something she always did, whenever she felt sad, it’s like that woman knows exactly what broken-hearted people go through, she softly hums, with the music.

Taking a sip of the bottle of bourbon covered with the brown paper bag, he’s eyes moves around the people, well that is until he spots her, she’s out of her scrubs, and now she’s wearing a tracksuit, her hair tied up in a messy bun, he moves closer without her noticing, he listens to her humming, he couldn't hold in his frustration. “Oh hell no, Patsy Cline, are you for real”

She looks up into his emerald green eyes, “What is your problem?”

He smirks “My problem is Patsy Cline Doctor, it’s so damn sad”

Irritation in her voice “Well I can’t help that you don’t have taste in music, so move along, if my music bothers you so much”

A mischievous grin on his perfect face “Bite me! I’m just saying at least Led Zeppelin gives you a little beat, don’t you think?” he lets out a little chuckle “you probably don’t even know who he is”

She glares at him, “I know exactly who he is, I love Classic Rock ‘n Roll, but unlike you, I have interest in various genres.”

“Oh, I got to say I’m shocked, that someone like you can have such good taste?”

Her blue eyes piercing his “Dean is it?”

He just simply nods, with a mischievous smirk,

“Well Dean, what exactly does ‘someone like you’ mean?” she said, air quoteting.

He laughs a little bit, and for a second she could feel her heart flutter.

His green eyes scan’s her whole body, but falls on her heart shaped lips, unconsciously he wets his lips, leaning a little forward, he whispers in her ear, “Someone as uptight as you”

She could smell the bourbon on his breath, She pushed him back, folding her arms in front of her “Me uptight? I’m not uptight! I’m professional, there’s a difference!”

A flirty grin spreads across his lips “So you wanna tell me that you can have fun?”

All of a sudden a loud bang can be heard, the earth is shaking underneath their feet, people are screaming, crying, they plunged into total darkness, there were spine chilling screams coming from every corner, after another big exploding sound it was dead silent, not a single sound could be heard.

The voice on the end of the phone call sounds bitter and cold, so cold, “Is it done?”

“Yes Mr. Summers it’s done, that little subway bombs ought to keep that damn lawyer busy, and the other first responders, I’ll start finding the witnesses”

“Good, now do your damn work!’ He shouted. As he ends the call, he watches out of his office window, in the distance you can see smoke, knowing it came from the subway’s direction, a smile crept on his hard and cold face, knowing he will get out of the charges once again, pity his only daughter had to die, but at least he will carry on like usual, like the well known, kind businessman, everybody loves, and his campaign to run for mayor, will carry on and even become more popular. After a moment of silence, he laughs, the people of this town will feel so sorry for him, after losing his loving daughter in a subway explosion.

There’s a dim light flickering in the distance, as she opens her eyes more, feeling disorientated and a little hazy, feeling an intense weight on her, trying to access whatever it could be she realises it’s Dean, he must’ve tried to cover her from getting hurt, his wrapped in a protective, sheltering way over her, her voice hoarse “D…Dean, hey wake up please” she can feel his swallow breathing on her face.

His eyes slowly opened, the first thing he laid his eyes on was Dr. Summers “Damn you okay?”

A smile crept on her lips, “I mean I will be if you get off of me!”

“Oh sorry, I.. I just tried, nevermind!” he pushes onto the floor lifting his body off of her, when he is standing he gently helps her up too. She gets up, her body hurts, her blue eyes frightened when she glances at the sight in front of her, there’s people laying all over, hurt, the distraught looks on their faces, the little children clinging to their parents, her voice almost breaking “We need to help them get out of here” turning to face Dean.

Dean stares directly into her ocean blue eyes, for a second he sees past her strong demeanour, there’s so much compassion, he just nods his head, “I agree”

The both of them, try to access the situation, helping those who isn’t as injured to a place with little to no debris, her heart breaks when she comes too a mother and her little boy, the woman doesn’t have a pulse, but the little boy with tears in his eyes, just clings to his deceased mother, not wanting to let her go. “Hey Sweetie” , his big eyes just stare at her. She kneels down to pick him up, but he just screams and cries, “I know, sweetie, I know, but mommy is going to stay there for a little while okay” she tries to calm him down, knowing this must be so overwhelming for him. She hands him to another older woman, too look after as she checks on the other people.

Dean walks towards her, “I think I see a way out of here, we can get the people through that entrance” pointing his finger towards a small opening, that was once the entrance to the subway.

“Okay, let’s get these people out of here” both of them get to work, she helps the wounded to the best she can, and Dean tries to get something to force the door open, so he can get closer to the entrance, find a way to secure it.

Sam’s hand reaches for the coffee mug, bringing it closer to his lips, then staring down at the empty mug, cussing underneath his breath. For the first time that evening he gets us from the table, walking into the kitchen, wanting some coffee, something in the distance out the window, catches his eyes, there’s smoke everywhere, he opens the window, the sounds of the sirens came crashing down like waves, realising the smoke is coming from the direction of the subway.He’s feet didn’t move fast enough, he reached for his phone, he needs to know if Amy is home already or if she.. Shaking his head, he can’t think about that now, he takes his phone in his hand, seeing a missed call from Amy about three hours ago, holding in his breath. He calls her back, it just keeps ringing… until he hears her voice, ‘Hey this is Amy, you know what to do’, he throws the phone down, Pressing his palms against the table. “Dammit, Dammit” running his hands over his face, whispering underneath his breath ”please let her be home, please”, he grabs his keys, leaving the files just spayed open on the table, he runs towards his car, he needs to drive home, he needs to find Amy there, she just needs to be okay. His stuck in a whirlwind of emotions, it feels like he can’t breath, but at the same time, like his heart is racing, The traffic is a mess, as he tries his best too get to their apartment, “please let her be there” he says, as his hands clenched the steering wheel, his knuckle’s white.

She heard Dean laughing, and to be honest it sounded like a melody, looking over at him, she could tell that he got the door open, after a lot of force, Dean called her over, as she starts to walk towards him, she started to feel a little light headed, but just shakes it off, their currently running on adrenaline, so for now, she can’t feel the pain. “Yeah?”

There was excitement in his eyes “We did it, we can get out of the subway car, then lead the people to the entrance, we’ll figure something out when we get there, what do you say, can we start helping the people out?”

Smiling “Hell yeah, let’s get these people to safety” they didn’t waste any more time, as a matter of fact they started with the older people, then the middle aged adults, finally the children. She took one last glance at the wreckage, taking in a deep breath then giving her hand to Dean as he helped her out, he got out as well. All of them, about thirty people, laugh as they just got out of that, but it’s short lived as they feel the trembling of the floor, she tries to grab onto something, but nothing, that’s when she felt, strong, muscular arms snaking around her waist, glancing up, her eyes caught his emerald green eyes once again, just mouthing a “thank you”, the trembling stops.

A large man, started to shout “All of us are going to die down here” Dean removes his arms from Amy’s waist, walks up to him, his face is angered, his voice low, almost like a growl “You listen to me, stop saying shit like that, your scaring the people, we will get out of here” the man grabs Dean by his shirt, shouting “who put you in charge?”

Dean gives him a sort of devilish smirk “Stop touching me, or the medics will have to carry your beaten up ass out of here” the man puts his hands in the air “alright buddy, no need to be so uptight” Dean turns around, walks towards the entrance of the tunnel, he inspects it, then his voice got a little louder, “Alright I need all of us too work together, we can remove some off these broken off concrete blocks and then we will get a way out of here, who is willing to help me move some of these?” A lot of passengers went up too help and Amy rushed over too the pregnant woman they helped out, as she was whining, “What’s wrong Miss?” sounding concerned.

The woman looked at her, her voice shaky. “I….I think my contractions started” Amy smiled at her, “I take it’s not your first?” the woman answered “No, it’s my fifth”, Amy places her down, removing her tracksuit jacket, placing it underneath her head as she laid down the woman, taking her pulse, then speaking in a very calming voice “Alright your pulse is a little elevated, but under the circumstance, I’d that’s pretty normal” she lets out a little laugh “we will have to check and see how far the contractions are but, I’ll say we will get you out of here, before the little one, gets born, okay?” The woman smiles faintly, “thank you”.

His hand shakes as he places the key in the lock, something tells him Amy isn’t home, but he needs it to not be true, he just wants to hold her close to him. The door screeches open, the whole apartment is dark, except for the microwave’s that is still left on the 30 seconds timer, of the milk Amy warmed for her coffee that morning. Not even bothering to switch on the lights, he knew, deep down he knew she’s not there, he pulled the chair out, placing his phone on the kitchen table, he stared at the timer, he felt numb, his mind blank and racing at the same time, is the love of his life really gone? Did she die thinking that he cheated on her, that he didn’t love her, that can’t be further from the truth. The saltwater behind his eyes started to burn, he tried to gulp down his feelings and emotions, but the more his mind raced, the worse it got, threatening to burst. The ringing of the phone scared the shit out of him, grabbing it, “Hello” he sounded distant, defeated.

“Sam? I’m at the explosion site, we are getting passengers out, Amy is alive, some of the passengers told us that she helped them” Cas sounded hopeful, excited even, he knew Sam would be worried sick!

He couldn’t believe what he heard, his Amy, is still alive, helping passengers, of course she is, “thank you, I’m coming” he said, grabbing his keys, his feet barely touching the ground, running towards his car, he needed to get there, see for himself, when Amy gets out, to hold her, to kiss her, to tell her how much he loves her.

Dean and Amy helped the passengers one for one out, they felt so overjoyed, they’re getting out of here, they're going to make it, all of them are. With only ten more people and the two of them that needed to go through, they were hopeful, the ending was near.

The man, walked right into Sam’s office, flashlight in hand, baklava covering his face, he needed to find the safe, break in, and find the documents, he was looking for the hidden safe, but low and behold, everything he needed was displayed on the table,, “this was so easy” he laughed to himself.

Gathering all the evidence and then taking the lighter fluid from his backpack, throwing it everywhere, as he walked out, he took the match and threw it into the office, watching the flame grow bigger and bigger, laughing, his boss Mr. Summers will most probably give him a little bonus. He walked out of the office, the papers in hand, and a determination to get these witnesses and hand them over to the fixer John.

The sight of the ambulances, fire trucks, cop cars, standing around, was just one too much to bear, as he got out he could see the hurt people, getting treated. He ran towards Cas, needed to find out some more information, of where Amy is.

Dean picked up the pregnant women gently, carried her to the opening, placed her on the backboard that was hoisted down, he and Amy made sure to strap her in tightly, Amy smiled “told you we would get you out of here” the woman stated to cry, “Thank you, Amy, Dean… I’m going to call my little girl ‘Amy-Deana’ to always remember what you two did for us” both of them smiled and chuckled a bit, “We’d be honoured” his gruff voice sounded joyful. “See you at the hospital,” Amy smiled. Dean tucked on the rope, letting them know they can pull her back up.

For a couple of seconds, there was this emotional, heartfelt stare between the two of them. It might’ve been the adrenaline, maybe the fear, but they were drawn to each other like a magnet, like two souls who were lost at sea, like two stars shining brightly, despite the darkness around them. The stare spoke deeper than any words ever could, it was a silent conversation between two strangers who grew closer in such a short while, their eyes filled with a million questions, and her heart this intense amount of guilt. She quickly looked away, the quilt eating her up, she had Sam, how can she feel like this towards a stranger. Dean’s voice snapping her back to reality.

Holding out his hand “Come on Amy, let's go home” his green eyes were filled with hope, as she took his hand, smiling her voice was soft “Thank you”.

He pulled her closer to him, glancing in her eyes, he was tempted to kiss her right then and there, but he didn’t, instead he said “you are one hell of a doctor Amy” she tried to still her racing heart, being this close to him, she smiled “and you… has gotten us out of this”

The earth underneath their feet shook, he instantly wrapped his arms around her, there were this loud rushing piercing sound coming from the other tunnels, the feeling of pressure of the sound waves were getting louder and louder as the thousand gallons water came flooding towards them, their face was fear stricken, their breaths was short and rapid, their hearts pounding. They had nowhere to go, they clung to each other, knowing this could be the end, Then the gallons of water came, hitting their bodies like, tremendous hammer blows, with every drop it tried tearing them apart, the water came crashing down on them from all directions, knocking them off their feet, they were tossed around like ragdolls, with no sense of direction or control or a way out.

@jackles010378 @k-slla @angelbabyyy99 @winchesterwild78 @cutedisneygrl

#spotify #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jared padalecki #jensen ackles x reader #sam and dean #stethoscopesandtriangles #nescaveckwriter

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crazy56u · 1 year

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So, Youtube and Google Play still think "Let Them Play" never aired, and my mom's SIM card straight up vanished out of her cell phone. Shit's weird all over. Luckily, Ben gets to be a lawyer this week, so there's that distraction.

[Also, to circumvent Firefox lagging out again, I wrote all of this in Notepad before dumping it into the post.]

Woah, no saga sell, we just dump straight into the episode…

Why is this courtroom so dark?

Ben is going to get this guy sent to jail, isn't he?

Look, to be fair, a $50,000 bail is better than jail.

"Okay, look, I know I'm a public defender, but we need to resolve the cliffhanger from last week?" "Ben, no we don't."

Ben has to solve all of the court cases this week, good fucking luck.

Seriously, the universe fucking sucks if Ben is getting thrown into the deep end of the pool like this. At least Sam only had one case when he was first exposed to court proceedings.

"You said it didn't matter that I didn't shoot him!" "Yeah, well, I was literally a different person yesterday."

I have every reason to believe Ian was the one to set up that bet, so they only have themselves to blame.

But, hey, on the bright side, it's only a dollar a pop.

Ah, so that's the rub: The last bunch of episodes this season all center around a member of the Project. So, that means Magic's gonna wind up in the Imaging Chamber next?

"Look, I can't do this." "I'm Ernie Hudson, Jenn, guess again."

Okay, Addison, you need to fucking let Ben know in advance when you let other people into the Chamber.

"You're a lawyer." "I've… talked to them, that counts, right?"

"Look, I've been in court numerous times, it's fun after a while."

[Also, I'm getting a sinking suspicion that the real reason Addison is passing the buck is because she's been replaced by Martinez.]

[Also, NBC's feed just had a minor seizure on my end.]

"Look, I have new evidence, my ghost friend just told me!" "Okay, sure, you didn't fucking file it, so court is adjourned."

This is like Better Call Saul, but some how more scummy.

This bald guy looks like he deals in ponzi schemes.

[So, of course his name's Saul...]

"It's impossible for one person to read all of this." "I'm literally standing right here, Ben."

I think I heard that seven minute fact once on Adam Ruins Everything.

Camilo was in the wrong place at the wrong time, much like 95% of everyone on this show.

Also, Addison got bored, and is just watching the show on the computer.

Why does this episode feel zippy tonight?

…okay, that one plot twist just blew Better Call Saul out of the water.

[T-Mobile, stop using the Scrubs guys to sell me on the service I already have, all you're doing is making me miss Scrubs.]

"Did you cancel our dinner reservations?" "What?"

"You fuck up my court case, you pay for dinner, only fair."

[By the way, I might have missed it, but did they say a date at the start of the episode?]

I love how that's the immediate smoking gun Ben has: "Did you know there's more than one entrance into a building?"

I have to imagine it took every bit of restraint that cop had to not choke him out while tackling him.

Okay, so either the cop stole that page, or that page was shredded.

"Bury evidence, just to win a case, what is this, Better Call Saul?"

"We got Marty McFly's almanac!" Jenn, did you NOT WATCH Back to the Future II?!

If Ziggy could talk, she would be prolapsing right now over Ben abusing the horse tracks.

[Why are they using the Spice Girls to hock Applebee's, what did they do to deserve that?]

"Look, Public Defender, it's your fault I decided to deal drugs! My brother could be relaxing prison for 10 years right now if not for you wanting to get him proven innocent!"

"Okay, this is the second page, I am saying this in case you forgot we made a big deal out of the second page being missing."

What if it turns out Edwin Soto's dead?

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeey honey, I need to ask you about a guy…"

Why does this house look like a sitcom set?

"These four walls, they're a sanctuary. Just ignore the missing one."

"Ben, look through Vicky's papers, or Camillo goes to jail."

Yeah, she didn't hide the paper, she just took it, there's a difference.

ADA Barnes: The Real Antagonist

And Ben just ruined love.

Great, now Stuart's homeless, Ben's batting a thousand.

"Look, I don't know Edwin Soto, I can't h- wait, he's that guy?!"

That judge is hating life right now.

"Is everything in order, Counselor, you look like you just discovered tampered evidence, and if you reveal how you know that, you'll get disbarred?"

Oh God, Kentucky, a fate worse than death.

"I'm terrible at speeches. …wait, why am I being reminded of Watership Down?"

I choose to believe this isn't in the script, and she just started ranting about rabbits while the camera was rolling.

"The answer is you, Ben, you're the rabbit- wait, you're the farmer- fuck, what was the story I was telling?"

"Well, what do we know, besides the rabbit thing?"

Okay, Vicky fucking teleported, she fucking teleported into the scene, you cannot convince me otherwise.

Calling it now, Barnes is trying to protect Edwin for some bullshit reason.

"Boy, I'm a lost, if only I have a magical ghost friend who's current in 2023, with access to a supercomputer…" "…are you having a stroke?"

"What are the chances the gun is in the same place-" It's this show, Ian, the chances are pretty fucking good.

[Also, cool, at least I know it's 1985, so watch as it turns out I straight up missing them say it at the start.]

And Stuart saves the day!

Ben almost got fucked over due to someone not knowing north from south.

"Okay, I gave a speech, Ben, it's your turn."

Not to be Debbie Downer, but there's 15 minutes left, I think Leo might have a point on the gun not being enough?

"Hey, you know what it's a perfect time for? A botany lesson."

"Look, I'm gonna be nice for once, I'll make it a five-year sentence." "Look-" "Okay, cool, fuck you then, bye."

Okay, so, either a 100% chance at four years, or 50/50 he's declared innocent. Shit like this makes me glad I'm not a gambler.

[Also, it just hit me: Did Martinez leap into ADA Barnes?]

"Four years is too long." Ain't that the fucking truth… Hell, one year is too long at this point…

I love how the lighting at points makes it look like Jenn is wearing a tie.

Did anyone schedule this fucking dinner?!

Okay, seven minutes, let's do the dance.

Ben, no, don't talk about time travel, you're in trial.

And watch as the fucking jury declares him guilty anyway.

I love the implication that Addison kicked Jenn out of the Imaging Chamber.

"I just remembered Magic" is, out of context, something one should not be saying out loud in a courthouse.

Man, ADA Barnes must get off on tampering with case files…

Wait, so did Camilo get declared innocent, or what?

Okay, thank God, keep me waiting in suspense, why don't ya…

Okay, cool, happy endings all around, so, when's the other shoe dropping?

…okay, Ben leaping into a mental asylum, I count that as a shoe.

So, welcome to "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest", Ben.

[How the fuck did Ben wind up in a worse mental hospital than Sam?]

Like, seriously, all Sam experienced was two electroshock treatments. In the promo alone, Ben wound up in a surgery room, got stabbed in the neck with a thing, and got shoved into a straightjacket. What the fuck?

#ben song for the defense #spoilers #quantum leap #scrubs #better call saul #back to the future part ii #watership down #one flew over the cuckoo's nest #shock theater #ben interrupted #next episode promo

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the-fiction-witch · 2 years

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Honey Bee’s

MOVIE MAZE RUNNER COUPLE NEWT X NONE RATING DARK + SEXY PARTS

I remember, The cream wallpaper with pink flowers. I remember the smell of orchids and roses. I remember the way the cream carpet used to look when you ran your hand across it drawing little pictures on the shaggy carpet. And yet there were so many things of that place I struggle now to recall. “newt!-”

I jumped up sitting up in my bed grasping onto the covers tightly gasping in the slight grey light before the sunrise, I wiped my hand over my forehead feeling the icy cold sweat that had gathered there. I sighed and lay back down in my dark blue covers staring up at the white plaster pattern ceiling, And it was only then as I sat quietly and calmly I noticed the noise.

The rapid banging on the wall, my bed slightly shifting where the bed on the other side of the wall moves and bangs into my wall. I could hear her screaming, and her mattress squeaking. I groaned and put my pillow over my head to muffle the noise but it was useless. I gave up and pushed my covers off me climbing out onto the cold wooden floor walking across my bedroom to my door rubbing my eyes as I went out of my bedroom and off to the bathroom luckily I couldn’t hear her as much in here. I ran a hot shower almost as hot as the sun letting it cascade over my body scrubbing myself hard. I always felt sticky and dirty no matter how hard I scrubbed. When I was done I climbed out and went back to my room sitting on the bed watching the sun come up over the hill and the ocean across the way, I stared at the horizon and the infinitely stretching ocean thinking of all the amazing places that must be just a stone throw across the horizon. I sighed and looked down at myself wrapped up in my towel noticing the stiffness I had tried so hard to ignore. It was quiet but the birds outside sang to the sun, the house quiet and still.

I took myself in my hand firmly and tried to fix myself. I didn’t want the satisfaction, I just wanted it to go away and quickly.

I jumped as I heard the door open so I grabbed my towel covering myself up as I turned to see the door and I saw Minho standing in the doorway.

He was tall, taller than me even, yet we only had a year or so between us. He was muscular and toned mostly from his work, he had his long striped white and blue pants on and nothing else his spikey dark hair messy and out of place.

“newt?” He asked

“Nothing!” I yelped

He rolled his eyes and shut the door coming over sitting beside me on the bed “newt, you can’t keep doing this”

“Minho. Please don’t tell her”

“I can’t keep covering for you”

“Please just a little longer”

“Okay, I won’t tell her. But you can’t keep this up newt”

“I don’t have to. Not for much longer” I told him

"Fine. I'll cover for you. But this is the last time" he says

so I nodded, he nodded too before getting up and leaving my bedroom, I sighed and got dressed heading out of my bedroom and going to the kitchen starting to make myself a cup of tea as Minho sat at the dining table now dressed to having some toast

“Awwww there’s my favourite boys” I heard her giggle at her bedroom door, I glanced over my shoulder looking at her bedroom door where she stood in her white nightie and flower-covered robe, her long blonde hair a matted bedhead mess from being on her back she went over to Minho giving him a cuddle and some kisses “My big strong sexy hubby” she giggled before she came over giving me a cuddle too “and my sweet little baby boy” she smiled giving my cheek a kiss

“Morning mum” I nodded

“How did you sleep?” she asks taking the tea I had made for herself and going to the table with Minho

“Fine mum, I need to get off to work,” I said quickly

“Shouldn’t you get dressed first?” she asked sipping the tea

“I am mum”

“You sure?” she asked “Isn’t that all a little tight? Maybe you should get changed?”

“I’ll be fine mum” I sighed

“Wear a jacket or get changed newt” she warns

I sighed and got my jacket on even if I knew it was far too hot for it, Minho got up getting his jacket too

“See you later honey” He smiled giving my mother a kiss

“I’ll see you later sexy” she smirked slapping his butt “And I’ll see you later too sweetie” she smiled giving my head a kiss I nodded and hurried out walking down the path into the already hot sun.

I walked the stone path I knew so well having been doing it now for so long, Minho following behind me. I could feel the eyes of everyone on the streets all the women in their long dresses staring at me, they were more so staring at Minho than me but still, I felt their eyes on me as we walked, we passed a couple of older women and as we did I felt a hard slap on my butt I knew Minho did too because he just sighed, I turned in shock seeing the two women walking away and one of them waved at me and blew me a little kiss.

"If you don't react they won't so it so much"

"That's what everyone says. It doesn't help"

"you know what would?"

"No, But I bet my life your gonna tell me"

"Get married."

"did it help you?" I glared

"What is with you?" he asks having stopped in the middle of the street "You use to be my friend!"

"Yeah! then you married my mother!" I told him stopping too

"You think I HAD A CHOICE!"

I relaxed a little taking a breath and so did he "I know you didn't, but you can't blame m,e for not being thrilled about my best freind being the reason I can't sleep"

"Can't sleep?"

"because all I hear every night is you banging my mum into the bedroom wall!"

"I don't like to you know." He says "no offence newt but the last thing I wanted was to be shaked up with some old bag. Do you think I want to be banging her headboard every night? because, no. I shucking don't. Do you think she gives me a choice? you think anyone gives us a choice on anything." he explained "Newt. when are you going to get it into your head. no one gives a shuck what we think."

"Boys. Move along. now." Officer woman glared as she walked the streets

“Come on newt, or we’ll be late” He said hurrying along so I followed him down the road pulling my jacket around me tighter when we walked down the path I saw the sea and the little dock the blue ocean reflecting the morning sun for a moment I did as I did everyday, planning , thinking, how hard it would be to just run and disappear “see you later”

“See you” I nodded as he headed down to the docks for work, I did my best to try not to be noticed as I walked through town and the women all here and about the few men I saw deep in their work, I saw a flock of school girls heading down the street in there uniform many of them giggling at me as they saw me. I kept my head down and walked through till I got to the farms where the men were busy at work, I walked through nodding to anyone I knew. I went through the paths seeing the vast amount of bees busy with their work, I hurried to my usual place the little wooden shed. It had a bunch of the combs and such they use to birth new bees that they had removed from the hives on the farms I took my seat and just kept an eye making sure I knew if anything had hatched yet or not but nothing so I just sat in my chair it's was a boring job but someone has to do it.

I watched the other guys working out my little window I knew why I didn't work like them I wasn't an exactly a strong muscular man so they likely wanted to seal me away with the stupid job.

I forget quite honestly how long it had been, but I think I ended up falling asleep and getting some rest because I was shaken awake by a knock on my door

"Yeah?"

"You ready to go newt?" I heard Minho ask from inside

"Ohh yeah, sorry," I said gathering my things and heading out with him as by now the sun was setting

"You okay?"

"yeah, sorry about this morning"

"It's okay. I think newt you gotta learn to be happy with the little things. its what I do"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I hate a lot about my life and this place but you gotta learn to be happy with... the little things you do have. I have a wife. I have a nice comfy bed to climb into. the roof over my head. I have a job. better than a lot of other boys"

"yeah, I get what you mean" I nodded

"You sure your okay?"

"Not exactly eager to get home Minho" I admit

"Why? Because of Lilly?"

I glared at him slightly as we walked

"Sorry, your mum?"

"No, but that doesn't help"

"Your worried about rose aren't you?"

"Of course, I am" I nod "I… I just want her to leave me alone"

"You're just overacting newt most guys would be thrilled a girl like rose being interested"

"But I'm not interested"

"Then just say so"

"You try telling my mum that"

"Good point" He nods

"Newt. rose is a lot nicer than a lot of guys get. Trust me. you'd be better with her. then with someone else."

"I don't want anyone."

"well, I've kept my tongue as long as I can. I can't cover for you anymore. you get caught. you know they'll pawn you off to the first girl that'll take you. Rose. Or worse."

"I know. just a little longer. I can make it" I nodded

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ellowynbeimler · 5 months

Text

Dec 29

Dear Dad,

I was kinda right when I said that I would stay up past midnight and then some because I did, and it was so late that it was early.

I crawled back up to the tippy top of the temple just to watch everything, even though it was super cold for a while. And it was super cool. I saw so much stuff and so many people. The party did wind down around dawn, but that's to be expected. The sunrise was magnificent, too. Like, crazy beautiful. I don't know if I've ever seen one like it.

Maybe just from this side of wakefulness.

I would have slept all day, but Riley roused the rest of us when she woke after what felt like not even close to enough sleep to have us help out with cleaning up the temple after it all. And it was really trashed after everything. Luckily, we weren't the only ones there. You know what they say about many hands.

It did take less time than I thought it would take a lot less time. There was still some stuff that was absolutely trashed. Still, I think that stuff like scrubbing the walls would wait for another day anyway, so as long as we're careful, I'll be able to avoid having to help too much more.

I went up for the rest of the letters this morning. I felt a little bad about leaving them all where anyone could read them, like leaving a diary out, but when I went up to get them today, they were all gone. They must have gotten blown away by the wind. Which really doesn't help how I feel about it cause that means they're spread all over the place, but they're probably going to land in puddles and stuff and be ruined before anyone can read them, so it's okay.

Or, not okay, because of littering, but at least fewer people see what I'm writing you.

I probably shouldn't have left them up here. There's an actual altar somewhere downstairs that would have been a better place to go them, but what's done is done.

I brought the others up with me, too. Even though it was a lot to go up and down like 4 times in two days, it was still super cool. I thought that even though it wasn't as cool without all the people dancing and the fire and all the stuff to see last night, they would probably think it was cool, and they did. They actually thought it was as cool as I did. Well, not Riley, 'cause she thought that we shouldn't be crawling around on the roof, but I saw how she looked at everything, so I think she also thought it was cool and wanted to see everything.

I was glad to get to as well. But I think she just felt that she wasn't able to, or rather, allowed to, say that she also thought it was very, very cool.

We also talked about when we're going to leave here. I think we're all getting cabin fever a little bit, even if it's the whole town and not just one room that we're stuck in, but it's still tiny compared to how much room we'd had to roam in previously.

We're probably not going to leave until sometime in January. However, Riley thinks we can help a little more at the temple, even if they don't need it. Reese and Zunair can probably make a little extra money to get more rations and stuff for our future travels. We aren't that bad off, except that it's always cold, and I lost my coat, so we have to replace it so I don't freeze to death because that wouldn't be very fun, but it is what it is. I mean, it's not like the worst way to go, but I'd rather not die that way, or at all, anytime soon. I'd much rather be home in our lovely, warm apartment and be able to take a hot shower without having to heat the water myself.

Also, I got to overhear more of Ruley and Willow talking. I think they're starting something, or not starting something? It's a little hard to tell, and it's like they were talking circles around whatever it was that they actually wanted to talk about, which is part of why I think it might be Willow's crush because she just wanted to focus on Riley making the right choice for her and being happy. Still, it did seem like a lot more was going on there.

Maybe I'll ask Willow about it later.

Or Riley, but I feel she won't want to talk about it at all, let alone with me.

Grace thinks I should just leave them be. They don't need to worry about people eavesdropping on them with everything else they and we have to deal with. But We'll find out for sure later.

Because I'm going to ask Willow, I don't know if I made that clear.

I'm going now. I should probably get to help with something.

Love, Jack

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samstree · 2 years

Text

Be Here

Geralt notices something in a few steps.

Or, another fix-it attempt. Also on AO3.

“Here,” Geralt calls out before taking a candle off the shelf and lighting it with Igni. Jaskier turns around with a hum, rubbing his eyes. He’s already half-asleep after a whole day’s cleaning, and the hallways are dark enough for humans to trip over nothing and crack open a skull. Shaking his head, Geralt grabs the bard’s hand and shoves the candle holder into it. “Take this one—”

A sudden yelp cuts him off and both the metal plate and the candle are knocked to the ground by Jaskier’s surprising force. Luckily the floor is damp from their earlier scrubbing so the flame dies immediately.

Geralt looks up at Jaskier with a confused frown, only to see the bard blanching, eyes wide with panic.

“Oh, I—” Jaskier stammers, letting out a choked laugh. “It’s, um, slippery. That is…the floor. With all the blood and soap and mopping. Phew! Lucky we didn’t catch on fire then. Have you seen the state of this place? Even you witchers can’t salvage that!”

“And the floor made your hand slip?” Geralt asks, shaking his head. The bard has not become less whimsical in his absence, and perhaps he never will.

“Ah, right.”

Jaskier is still holding his hands close to his chest as Geralt lights the candle again to hand it over. Strangely, instead of taking it, the bard is only eyeing at the flame nervously, the thrumming of his heartbeat picking up by the second.

“Jaskier?” Concern rises in Geralt’s throat when the tiniest hint of fear hits him, but just before he can open his mouth, Jaskier takes the candle in one swift motion and shoulders past him like he’s being chased by a demon.

And he wasn’t this fast while being chased by an actual one.

“Right, see you tomorrow!”

“What is wrong—”

Quick footsteps turn the corner within one heartbeat and the next and Jaskier is swallowed by the dark, but the sound of a candle being blown out is unmistakable. So is the thump of a person walking into a wall and the muffled groan that follows.

Geralt stands there for a few more moments, still frowning.

“Here,” Geralt holds out the torch, but Jaskier makes no move to take it. He only crosses his arms tighter under the thick winter coat.

“I don’t need one, Geralt,” Jaskier says, flinching when the fire dances in the wind.

“Don’t be daft. The basement is dark.”

But Jaskier only shakes his head and starts down the stairs, and Geralt is near the end of his patience now. He lets out a frustrated grunt before someone smacks him on his back.

“I’ll take that,” Yennefer appears out of nowhere and plucks the torch away, before walking before Jaskier. The light is just enough for her to lead the two of them into the basement. At the end of it, they share a long, meaningful look, and there’s a ghost of a smile at the corners of Jaskier’s lips.

“Hmm,” Geralt hums, but the moment is broken before long.

He tries to ask Yen about it, but she deflects all three times.

“Here.”

Jaskier is so clearly struggling to get the ladder in place and the screws are only giving him more trouble. Geralt notices his fingers are already turning red from trying to loosen those bolts, so he steps in and removes Jaskier’s hand before securing all the bolts.

“My big, strong witcher,” Jaskier teases, patting Geralt on the chest in thanks, before climbing to the top shelf for the old bestiary. Apparently, Vesemir promised him that he can look through anything he wants in the library. Hmm, when did Jaskier make friends with everyone? Geralt must not be paying attention.

“I’ve been meaning to ask—” Geralt gestures at where the bard is clutching at the hardcover of the book tightly, his skin rubbed red from all the effort at unscrewing a few bolts, and failing. “—are you okay? Yen said something, but she’s all…weird about it.”

“Ah, you know her,” Jaskier answers with a flourish, aiming for nonchalance, but there’s something in his eyes that tells a different story, “always the dramatic one.”

Nothing about Jaskier makes sense these days. Those months in between seem to have cracked the ground open between them, and one person has to take the first step to close it. A few years ago, Geralt might have waited for Jaskier to be that person, but now…

Now, it’s his turn.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says gently, carefully, and steps into Jaskier’s space, taking the heavy book and putting it on the nearest desk. The bard tries to look away, but Geralt stills him with both hands on his shoulders, which only makes Jaskier fidget with his fingers more. He does that a lot lately. “Will you talk to me?”

The keep is quiet and Geralt waits patiently in silence, until a blush creeps up on Jaskier’s cheeks, until he meets Geralt’s gaze with nothing but sincerity.

“It’s…a burn.” Jaskier spreads his palm, revealing ragged scars along his right forefinger. “A mage found me in Oxenfurt. It’s silly, for something so small to bother me so much. He didn’t even have me for that long before your witch showed up and saved my life, but…”

Jaskier trails off before a shudder runs down his spine, and the realization makes Geralt’s blood boil. If He—or gods forbid, Yen—ever crosses paths with the fire mage again, the guy will certainly see the last spark in his life.

“But it does bother you.”

A simple nod is all Geralt needs, and he sighs, swallowing all the anger to make sure his touch is gentle. It’s a lesson he’s been trying to teach Ciri, that rage never heals wounds, only gentleness.

So he runs his palms down Jaskier’s arm in a soothing motion before reaching his wrists. Jaskier watches the entire time, allowing his hands to be cradled between Geralt’s equally scarred ones. Those burn marks are still new, the skin tender from Jaskier’s carelessness.

“We have a salve. It helps with the pain.”

“What?” Jaskier looks up in surprise. “No, there’s no need. It must look like nothing compared to what you’ve gone through, and really, it’s fine.” he lies, voice just a smidge too high-pitched. “It doesn’t even hurt that much anymore. Truly, Geralt, it doesn’t matter.”

Geralt’s heart breaks a little, and he deserves it.

“You matter, Jaskier,” he answers with all the softness he can muster. “Let me help you now?”

It’s been too long since Geralt realized Jaskier will not refuse anything he asks, and the power used to make him want to run, to lash out, to hide so the loyalty of the bard didn’t stir up something deep within his ribcage that the witcher mutation had long buried. And yet, Jaskier is still here, unwavering, caring Jaskier, and Geralt no longer wishes to run.

That power only makes him want to do better.

“Fine. If you insist.”

A tiny smile curves Jaskier’s lips, and Geralt returns it in equal measure.

They find the potion room together, bestiary forgotten and still covered in dust, so Geralt can apply the minty salve for Jaskier. He tries to keep his touch gentle, blowing at the sensitive skin from time to time.

Jaskier sniffles a little at the end, his eyes glistening in the dim light, but neither of them mentions it.

“Here,” Geralt says, holding out the gloves, “yours.”

Jaskier takes them tentatively, confusion knitting his brows together, so Geralt takes them back again and promptly begins putting them over Jaskier’s cold hands himself.

“Holy—that is soft,” Jaskier exclaims.

“It’s our best yarn.” Geralt cocks an eyebrow. “Only have enough for two pairs. One for Ciri, one for you.”

“Oh,” Jaskier lets out an amazed sound, watching as Geralt ties up the laces at his wrist. “How should I thank you?”

“Stay warm?”

“Ha! A good one!”

Except it’s not a joke, Geralt thinks as he finishes with the other glove and holds Jaskier’s hands between his as the heat returns slowly; it’s a painstaking process. If Jaskier won’t get close to the fireplace, and the coldness irritates his scars, hand-knitted gloves seem like the only option.

“Don’t lose them then.”

If the appreciative glint in Jaskier’s eyes is any indication, he’s determined not to.

“Here.”

Jaskier takes the cup of water, his head leaning back against the pillows, and a sheen of sweat gathers on his forehead, soaking the hair by his eyes. Geralt sets himself down on the bed, worry churning in his stomach.

“Don’t look so constipated,” Jaskier says between sips. “It’s only a dream.”

“It’s the fourth night in a row.”

“Well, fourth night I’ve seen you shirtless in a row. It can’t be all bad.”

Jaskier winks, but Geralt isn’t smiling. “Have you even gotten any sleep?”

A heavy sigh, and the water is placed on the counter with a thud. The lightness of Jaskier’s features disappears, and all Geralt can see are the bruises under his eyes.

“It seems apt,” Jaskier says, “that he used fire.”

Geralt tilts his head at the non sequitur and rests a hand over the bard’s forearm, squeezing encouragingly.

Jaskier lets out a chuckle. “For that song. I guess…what goes around comes around,” he pauses. “I’m sorry. I should have said a while ago.”

The world seems to stop, and Geralt almost cannot breathe through the guilt weighing down on his stomach. After all this time, after everything they’ve been through, Jaskier must know.

“I don’t blame you,” Geralt says. “I’m the one who should apologize.”

“You have.”

“Not enough.”

The sound of Jaskier’s screams at night will haunt both of them yet, and all Geralt can do is be there for him. He wonders if that’ll be enough, or is losing Jaskier only a matter of time? Even the idea makes dread rise, so Geralt rests his forehead against Jaskier in an attempt to stifle it. He isn’t sure which one of them he’s trying to comfort anymore.

“Will you stay?”

Jaskier’s question comes out in a whisper, their breaths mixing, and Geralt sags with relief.

“All you need is ask, Jaskier.”

Their gazes meet, before moving down to the other’s mouth. They come together in a gentle hum, the kiss kept sweet and lazy, and it’s over in a second. Geralt lingers, the nebulous tingling still on his lips, before pulling away.

“Later, perhaps,” Jaskier breathes, eyes bleary. “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

No, Geralt agrees, they are not ready yet.

“I’ll wait.”

When Geralt finally climbs into the mountain of covers on Jaskier’s bed and takes him into an embrace, it’s the same promise that he murmurs into the night.

He’ll wait.

For Jaskier, he’ll wait.

“Here!” Jaskier beams, shoving his freezing hands into the collar of Geralt’s shirt, almost making him curse out loud.

Wait, Ciri isn’t there.

“Fuck, Jaskier. Where have you been?” He has half a mind to scold the bard, if not for the way Jaskier splutters indignantly. No doubt he will act all innocent and pathetic until he gets what he wants.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been nowhere, witcher! It’s the winter storm in these thrice-damned mountains! Seriously, why couldn’t the first witchers build it somewhere slightly more forgiving? Fear of a pleasant vacation time?”

“Fear of being found by trouble-seekers—” Geralt wraps Jaskier’s hands in his and blows at them gently. “—such as you.”

The defiant look on Jaskier’s face that says and yet here I am softens something in Geralt, and he refocuses on his task of being a walking furnace.

“Hurts today?”

“A bit,” Jaskier answers quietly. “It’s truly the storm. And it itches, you know?”

“Hmm.” Geralt does know. After all, he’s had intimate knowledge about scars and old wounds, so he presses a kiss to Jaskier’s forefinger where the proof of his love resides. “Better?”

“One more?” Jaskier bats his lashes cheekily, and Geralt kisses it again.

“Now?”

Warmth comes back to Jaskier slowly, spreading under Geralt’s care. The way their bodies press together has ceased to be a novel experience, but Geralt revels in it anyway.

“Now, be here with me,” Jaskier asks. “Be here, just a little longer, and I’ll be alright.”

And Geralt does.

Know that I write everything out of rage these days. All softness is accidental.

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod @kuripon @holymotherwolf @theamazingdevilgivesmehope @julek @glows-n-the-dark

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #hurt/comfort #post season 2 #coda #s2 spoilers #the witcher season 2 spoilers #first kiss #fix-it #geralt x jaskier #past torture #or at least fix-it attempt

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maddiwrites · 3 years

Text

Breathe With Me

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: After finding out who hurt you on that horrific night, JJ helps you through another panic attack and makes plans to protect his girl.

Note: This was requested a long time ago after a chapter of my rewrite was posted! Instead of doing JJ x OC, like requested, I changed it to JJ x Reader so that people who don’t read my rewrite can enjoy it too. Hopefully this is okay with ya’ll.

Word Count: 3.5k

WARNINGS: Sexual Assault!!! This chapter has descriptions of sexual assault. Please do not read if this is TRIGGERING!!!!

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

Masterlist

It was another regular day on the island. Hot and crowded with tourists. With everyone working, you decided to tag along with JJ and Pope to delivery groceries for Heyward’s business. Usually this meant going to Figure Eight, your least favorite place to be. Normally it didn’t creep you out too much, but because of a rather recent incident, you didn’t like being there.

Right after your dad went missing, you spent a lot of time with Kie as she lived out her Kook Year. Avoiding the Pogues and John B and surrounding yourself with stuck up assholes and their expensive drugs and alcohol helped you forget about your own family crisis. You would do anything to take your mind off your dad’s disappearance even if it meant getting high on whatever was offered to you. You didn’t ask twice about what it was. You figured if the rich people we’re doing it, it couldn’t be that bad right?

One night you did a long line surrounded by Rafe and a couple of his buddies. Pretty much everything after that was a blur. Your memories are fuzzy, like a puzzle piece you can’t piece together. The last thing you remember is your black hitting something soft, like a mattress or a pillow. You thought you heard the zipper of your shorts being pulled down but figured it was Kie helping you change into a pair of pajamas.

The next morning you woke up practically naked with a blanket covering your bottom half and your bra pulled down to your stomach. You began to panic and ran your hands down your side, flinching at the tenderness by your hips. The skin was yellow/green and getting ready to bruise. Your breathing became shallow and your throat tightened up. You fumbled around the room you didn’t recognize for your clothes and slid them on, not caring what was backwards or inside out. You stumbled out the door and tip toed down the long staircase of the large house you were in. Figure Eight, you thought.

You didn’t go home first. You went to Kie’s house. Because your body ached. Because you wanted to cry but didn’t want John B or the other boys to hear you. Because you were afraid to be naked around anyone but another girl. The second she opened the door, you sobbed into her arms and told her what you think happened to you. Kie tried to get you to go to the police or even the hospital, but you couldn’t fathom the idea of anyone knowing about what happened. Not even a stranger. Because you were embarrassed. You blamed yourself for this happening to you. You were high as fuck, trying to forget about your family troubles. You were the one to make yourself weak and vulnerable. No one else. Someone just took advantage of the position you put yourself in.

Kie didn’t pressure you. She wanted to support you in whatever decision you made, despite wanting justice for you and sending whoever the sleaze bag was to jail. She sat on the toilet and talked to you as you showered slowly. You spent most of the time staring at the wall and feeling ever inch of your body. You felt so dirty and no amount of soap or scrubbing could make you feel any cleaner.

You stayed at her house for a couple of days until John B eventually texted her because he was worried. You both decided it was time for you to go home, but you never told them what happened. You were afraid of what John B and even JJ would do if they found out. And the last thing you wanted was for either of them to get hurt or in trouble.

John B didn’t notice something was off as much as JJ did. He could tell you were being more quiet and reserved than usual. Your usual style of crop tops and jean shorts changed to sweats and baggy t shirts. You slept with your door locked and didn’t touch a single can of beer since you came home.

Moving on from that night was a slow and gruesome process, one you don’t know if you’ll ever fully recover form. Luckily for you, JJ was a great distracter. He was an amazing story teller, he could make you laugh with a small hand gesture, and his laugh could draw you in for hours. No one was surprised when the two of you eventually started dating. Not even John B, who was a little apprehensive about it at first.

To JJ, everything came to light when another make out session became heated. Like that morning, it became hard to breathe and your mind wandered off to what could have happened to you that night. In a blink of an eye, you were back in Figure Eight with someone pulling your zipper down. You could physically feel the bruises on your hips again and your skin burning.

A panic attack emerged and JJ was left confused and lost. Fortunately for you, he was quick to realize something was seriously wrong and helped you through it. He breathed with you and talked you down. When you were calm, you explained what happened. At first he was pissed. Pissed at whoever could have done this to you and even a little bit at you and Kie for keeping this from him. He was ready to charge out of the house, grab John B, and find the sick son of a bitch who would touch an unconscious girl. But your cries stopped him. He’s never heard pain in your voice like he did that night. It physically cracked his heart into a million little pieces and he dropped every instinct he had and stayed with you instead.

Since then, he’s been the most supportive and protective boyfriend. At every boneyard party, he would keep an eye out for any Kook that decided to show their face on your turf. He took note of anyone looking at you in a weird way. He carried the gun he stole from Scooter in his backpack for protection. He was serious about using it too. No one touches his girl and gets away with it.

Luckily, nothing happened between JJ and any Kook. No one made a move to talk to you or tease you. Kooks kept their usual distance from you, which not only made you feel better for yourself but because you didn’t want something to happen to JJ. You know the rules of the game of this island. Nothing bad ever happens to Kooks. They don’t know consequences.

When Pope docks his boat, he asks if you would come with him to drop groceries off at the Thorntons. If he did it alone, it would cause two trips and he doesn’t want to waste time.

As you go to agree, JJ steps in and shakes his head as he looks between you two. “I don’t think thats a good idea.”

“Why not?” Pope asks, completely clueless.

You subtly shake your head, silently begging for JJ not to say anything. Pope and John B still didn’t know and you want to keep it that way. Sure you would feel safer with JJ by your side, but you won’t be alone. You will be with Pope. And who would try to start something in the middle of the day anyway?

“It’s fine, J,” You tell him. You even try to joke. “I’m sure you’ll survive one hour without me.”

When you kiss his cheek, JJ turns to look at you with his brows pinched together with worry. “Y/N...”

“Seriously, J...” You say. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” You whisper that last part as Pope turns to get the bags.

“You have your phone?”

You nod and pull it out of your pocket to show him. “Yes. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

As JJ walks in the opposite direction of you and Pope, you feel the tension in your shoulders get tighter. The sight of these homes gives you flashbacks. The worst part about all of this is you don’t even know who hurt you. It could’ve been anyone - a touron even. It would be easier to know who did it so you know who to avoid.

Pope notices your change in behavior but doesn’t mention it. Instead he keeps a silent eye on you and studies your every movement.

As you pass the golf course, you hear a couple cat calls and cheering from a group of teenagers. When you look up, you see Rafe, Topper, and one of their friends making their way over to you. You take a step behind Pope, hiding behind his body and keeping your eyes trained down on your shoes.

“What do we have here?” Rafe whistles as he comes closer. He looks down at the bags in your arms and the beer in Pope’s hand. “Bring us something?”

“These are already paid for,” Pope glares at them.

“Oh, right, right,” Rafe nods as if he understands. Then he takes is golf club and swings it at the brown paper bag in Pope’s arms, causing everything to spill out of it.

“Dude!”

“Sorry, man!” Rafe holds his hands up in fake surrender. He leans down to pick up a beer bottle and tosses it to his tall friend. “Trevor, you feeling thirsty?”

The guy, better known as Trevor, cracks the beer open and takes a long sip. When he looks down, he spots you and eyes your figure up and down. Then he smirks to himself and a shiver runs down your spine. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. Like a piece of meat or someone he knows too much of.

Rafe catches his eye and smirks to himself. “Ah, yeah. I forgot. You and Routledge have some history.”

Pope looks over his shoulder at you and sees your chest rising and dropping at a quicker pace. You’re gripping the bags in your hands so tight that he can see your knuckles turning white. You look away from the group of Kooks at the golf course with a frown on your face. Something was wrong, Pope thought.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Trevor chuckles. He looks at you again and tilts his head. “What? You don’t remember me?”

“Pope...” You feel like you’re choking. How could he know you when you have no idea who he is? You don’t like where this is going.

Trevor continues, “Can’t say I blame you. You were out of your mind wasted that night -”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Pope says, looking between you and Trevor. He wasn’t one to get confrontational or angry, but he didn’t like what he was hearing. He didn’t like how you were acting. Something wasn't adding up. He knew you’ve hooked up with Kooks before, but this one was different.

“Almost as dead as her daddy,” Rafe chuckles. Something in Pope snaps and he pushes Rafe back by his shoulders. In retaliation, Rafe raises his golf club and smacks it against the middle of Pope’s back, causing him to fall down with a thump.

“Pope!” You cry and drop the bags you were holding and kneel next to him.

“Hey,” Trevor touches your shoulder to try and pull you away from the two fighting boys, but you flinch away from him.

“Don’t touch me! Get away from me!” You cry.

Trevor immediately holds up his hands in surrender and takes a step back. Your outburst causes everyone to freeze in their movements, even Rafe and Pope. The wheels in Topper’s head start to move a little quicker too. He looks between you and Trevor and feels off about your connection. You looked terrified. And Y/N Routledge was almost never terrified.

Even though you are outside, you feel claustrophobic. Your heart is beating so heavily against your ribcage that you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to break your ribs. Pope notices you’re two shades paler and having a hard time breathing. Tears are silently falling down your face and you continue to crawl away form the group of Kooks backwards.

“Y/N...” Pope says quietly.

“We should go,” Topper says. He never hated you like some of the other Kooks did. Sure you never got along, but a small part of him thought you were cool. He knew something was extremely wrong and he couldn’t help but think it had to do with their friend, Trevor. He looks at Rafe who continues to stare at you with surprise. “Dude.”

“Yeah...” Rafe says slowly. “Trev, let’s go.”

The three Kooks scatter back to the golf course. You squeeze your eyes tightly and grip the fabric of your shirt, pulling it away from your body because right now it just feels suffocating.

“Hey.” Pope crouches down near you and lightly touches your shoulder. His touch feels like an electric shock, making you flinch even further away. When you open your eyes, you’re back in some random Kook’s house on a mattress you’re unfamiliar with. “They’re gone. Hey, they’re gone.” Pope tries to be gentle with you, but he also wants to get you out of here and in a more comfortable setting.

“JJ,” You manage to say. Your throat feels on fire. “I need J-”

Pope immediately starts fumbling for his cell phone and dials his best friend’s number. He bounces on the balls of his feet as he impatiently listens to the ringing. “Come on. Come on.”

JJ answers. “Hey! Sorry I’m on my way back now. You’ll never believe how much this lady tipped me. I swear I’m coming on every -”

“JJ, shut up and listen to me. Y/N...” He glances back at you and sees you’re hunched over with your forehead resting on your knees and your fingers through your hair. “She’s having a panic attack or something. I - I don’t -”

“Where are you?” JJ’s once elated tone has dropped to a more serious one.

Pope tries explaining what part of the golf course they are near.

“Okay. I’ll be there in five minutes. Pope, get her under some shade or something. And if you can, try to get her to look at you. She needs to open her eyes to see where she is.” Pope nods, forgetting that JJ can’t see him. “Pope!”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Okay, doing that now.”

JJ hangs up the phone so he can run faster.

Meanwhile, Pope crouches down in front of you again and says, “Y/N/N, hey. Can you open your eyes?” Pope lightly taps your ankles. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” You slowly blink your eyes open and sniffle back the tears. Pope smiles when he sees he’s made some sort of progress. “Hey. JJ’s on his way. Why don’t we move you under some shade? It’s getting pretty hot out here. Can I help you up?”

You nod and let Pope help you up and bring you a couple feet away under a large tree. Your back rests against the bark and you try taking deep breaths to calm the swirling nausea in your stomach.

It was Trevor. It had to be Trevor. From the way he looked at you, to the innuendo Rafe made. You knew in your heart that it was Trevor who had hurt you that night.

A part of you always wanted to know who did this, but another part of you wished you never figured it out. Because now his face will haunt you forever.

About a minute later, you hear another set of footsteps quickly coming your way. You panic, your immediate thought going to Trevor. Would he come back?

But then you hear your boyfriend’s beautiful voice. “Hey.” His tone is soft and gentle. “Hey, baby. Look at me. It’s JJ.” You open your eyes and meet the lovely blue one’s you fell in love with. He grins at you and takes your hands in his.

“I’m so - sorry,” You sob, suddenly hating yourself for bringing this back up to your boyfriend and ruining Pope’s work routine. “I - I -”

“Hey,” JJ says and pulls your hands to his chest, palms down. “Remember what we did last time? Match my breathing, okay? Ready? Take a deep breath.”

Pope watches with awe silently from the sidelines. He’s never seen this side of either one of you. You so panic stricken and scared, JJ so intent with concern and intuitive.

You follow JJ’s breathing until you feel calm enough to breathe on your own. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” JJ shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You look down at your hands that are folded in your lap. You want to tell him. Of course you want to tell him. But you’re afraid of what happens next. You’re afraid of how JJ will respond.

“Rafe, Topper, and their friend Trevor jumped us,” Pope answers for you. Like JJ, he’s also curious about what happened. Of course he was there for the physical breakdown, but he wants to know more about what you’re going through emotionally.

“Did they hurt you?” JJ looks back at you and inspects every inch of your open skin for signs of scratches or bruises.

You shake your head. “No.”

“Then...”

“I know who it was,” You say, your voice as soft as a whisper.

“What? You mean. -” JJ’s head snaps back and forth between you and Pope. “Who?”

You dip your chin into your chest to hide your tears as they start to flow again. You take a deep breath and look back up at your boyfriend. “Trevor.”

“Who the fuck is Trevor?” JJ looks at Pope.

Pope shrugs, “I don’t know. He was golfing with the other two Kooks.”

“Where’d they go?” JJ stands up, causing both you and Pope to follow him.

“No, JJ -” You try to pull him back to you but he slips his wrist out of your grip.

“JJ!” Pope calls out to JJ who walks in the direction the other three disappeared to.

“JJ, stop!” Your voice cracks which makes JJ turn around to look at you. “Please. I just want to go home.”

JJ freezes and bites down on his bottom lip, feeling conflicted. His head is telling him to run after the Kooks and beat every single one of their faces in until he finds the one named Trevor. But his heart is telling him to walk back to you and take care of you.

“Okay,” he decides and wraps his arm around your waist. “Let’s get you home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After you fall asleep later that night, JJ tip toes out of your room and silently shuts your door behind him. You passed out early, exhausted from the panic attacks and crying. In the living room, Pope, Kie, and John B are waiting. You had no other choice but to tell John B what happened. Now that Pope knew, it felt wrong keeping it from your brother as well. Of course it caused an argument, but in the end, John B only wants the best for you and to protect you. Which is why they’re here now.

“Ready to go?” JJ looks directly at your brother.

John B holds up his car keys. “Let’s go.”

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Kie grabs John B by the elbow and glares at both of them.

“Where do you think?” JJ says.

When Pope and Kie stepped out of the room to check on you, JJ and John B both secretly decided that when you fell asleep, the two of them would sneak out and find this Trevor person and give him what he deserves.

“Don’t be stupid,” Pope says, looking between the two. “You know how this works. The two of you end up getting in trouble and he gets to walk away clean.”

“I don’t care. I’ll kill him -”

“You can’t,” Kie says.

“I’m not asking for your permission, Kie!”

“Where’s the gun?” Kie says. “If you’re going to do this, I’m not letting you bring the gun. Leave it here.”

JJ looks up at John B who reluctantly nods his head for JJ to give it up. The blonde sighs and reaches into the back of his waistband and pulls it out.

“This is a bad idea,” Pope says again even though he knows the other two don’t give a shit. In a way, he kind of respects it. He would go to if he didn’t have a scholarship to worry about.

“Keep an eye on her. We’ll be back in a couple hours,” John B says.

“You better hope you are. Because if you’re not, you’re only going to be making this worse for her,” Kie tells them.

Kie’s words have both John B and JJ rethinking their decision. But only for a split second.

JJ nods. “Don’t worry. I’d never leave my girl behind.”

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj fic #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank x reader #jj #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx imagine

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scorpio-hotch · 3 years

Note

FBI Hotch: 6. Taking care of him after he gets hurt

Thank you so much for the request!! I had a lot of fun with this one :))

Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Talk of injury, injury care, showering together

My 100 follower milestone prompt list

Taken Care Of

It was about midnight when you pull into the parking space outside your and Aaron’s apartment building. As you put the car in park and take out the key you hear Aaron unclick his seatbelt and start to try to get out of the car. “Wait,” you say and place your hand on his shoulder.

He had gotten hurt on the last case when a stray bullet fragment hit him in the left leg. Luckily the case had been local so you could go straight to the hospital with him and take him home. He hadn’t been hurt too badly but he would have to use crutches for the next few weeks and would be out of the field for at least a month. He was grumpy about it. He hated getting injured. He hated even more having to be taken care of. But tough luck for him because you would be taking care of him until he was all better.

You get out of the car, going around to his side to help him out. First you get his crutches out of the back seat and grab his bag so you could carry it inside for him. Next you open his door and help him get out and situated with his crutches. He whispers a small “thank you,” to you as he begins moving towards the building.

Once you get inside he starts to go towards the stairwell. He always preferred using the stairs to the elevator. “Aaron, honey,” you call out to him, reminding him he couldn’t use the stairs.

He turns to see you standing in front of the elevator. He grumbles to himself as he maneuvers his way besides you. You look up at his pouty face while you wait for the doors to open. His brows furrowed making him have a very serious, almost angry looking expression.

You take a moment to think about how when you got to the hospital he had been insitiant that you hold his hand while they stitched him up. He’s never been a big fan of needles. So of course you stood holding the big bad BAU unit chief’s hand and running your fingers through his hair while he got a few stitches. He was cute. He liked to pretend he was stoic and felt no emotions, but on the inside he was a big softie.

The elevator door opens and you both step inside When you get to your floor you had to slow down a bit so Aaron could keep up. When you get inside the apartment Aaron dramatically throws himself down on the couch. “I wanna take a shower and go to bed,” he groans out.

After putting your stuff down you take a seat next to Aaron’s head on the couch, your fingers finding their way into his hair knowing that would always soothe him.

“Okay baby,” you say, as you continue to scratch his head, “let me go get everything ready for you.”

You help Aaron move to the bedroom so he can sit on the bed while you start the shower and get everything in order for him. Making your way to the en suite bathroom you start the shower, letting it get heated up checking the temperature with your hand. With that handled you pull out a couple of towels for you and him to use when you are done. Leaving the bathroom you walk past Aaron who is laying on the bed with his arm slung over his face. Poor boy. Quickly you make your way to the kitchen and grab some plastic wrap, making a stop at the closet to grab some medical tape before making your way back to the bedroom.

Standing in front of Aaron you rub your hand over his chest lovingly before you start to unbutton his shirt. He stops you for a moment. “I can do it,” he says.

“I know,” you say, running your hand over his tight shoulder, “But I want to help you.”

He lets you finish unbuttoning his shirt before you kneel down in front of him and help him out of his pants, making sure to be careful of his injured leg. After you get those off you grab the plastic wrap to wrap around his bandages so they wouldn’t get wet in the shower. After taping it in place, making sure that it was water tight. He pulls off his white undershirt while you strip your clothes off, getting ready to get in the shower. After you help him out of his boxers, he stands up on his crutches and makes his way into the bathroom with you.

You get into the shower first, helping Aaron step in after he rests his crutches against the wall. He supports much of his weight on you, not wanting to put too much pressure on his hurt leg.

You can feel him relax a bit under the warm water. You’re sure it helps a bit with the tension and pain. It’s always good to be in the shower together with your body pressed up against his. Even under these more unfortunate circumstances there was something nice about the intimacy of it. After a moment you reach down and grab the shampoo and squeeze some of it into your hand. Your hands make their way to Aaron’s head washing his hair for him. He lets out a sigh of contentment and rests a little bit more weight against you as he relaxes even more. You wash out the shampoo and add some conditioner to his hair. Next you get his body wash and get it nice and lathered up in your hands. You know after the day he’s had, Aaron just wants to feel clean. You start scrubbing his body, starting with his chest, making your way down to everywhere else. You avoid his left thigh knowing you were gonna clean the wound there in a little while. After he was all clean he leaned down to reach for your body wash. You stop him. “It’s okay honey,” you say, knowing he was about to start trying to clean you up, “I’m taking care of you tonight, not the other way around.”

You clean yourself up the best you can while helping hold Aaron up. You both stand under the water for a little bit longer before it starts feeling cold. You shut off the water and step out of the shower, helping Aaron out as well. You dry him off a bit before he uses his crutches to go back into the bedroom. You dry yourself off before following him. You see that he pulled on a pair of boxers and a soft grey t-shirt. You get some pjs on as well, before settling in front of him similar as you did before. You pull off the plastic wrap, putting it aside to dispose of later. “I’m just gonna change the bandage and then we can go to bed, okay.”

He nods, “okay.”

You take off the bandage that was covering the wound, remove the gauze as well, putting them with the plastic to be thrown away. His leg was definitely a bit swollen and you could tell that it was tender and painful. You flush out the stitches with saline before dabbing on a bit of antibiotic ointment. You put some more gauze over the injured areas before wrapping the whole area up in some bandages. The only bandages you had in the house were bright green, but you don’t think he minded too much. After he was all wrapped up you pressed a light kiss to his leg above his knee, right below the bandage, whispering, “All better,” into his skin.

That made him smile. You helped him pull on a pair of pajama pants and lay back in bed before you got him some ibuprofen to help with the swelling and pain a bit. You handed it to him with a glass of water and got settled on your side of the bed. You saw Aaron shifting around trying to get comfortable. You opened your arms up so he could cuddle with you, telling him, “c’mere baby.”

He got settled with his head resting on your chest and his arms wrapped around your middle. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he mutters into your chest.

“Of course, baby,” you tell him as your hand rubs circles on his back, “I love taking care of you, whether you're injured or not. ”

He looks up at you with so much affection in his eyes, leaning up just enough to press a kiss to your lips. “I love you so much,” he says.

“I love you too. Get some rest now, okay.”

He settles back down against your chest. You keep your hand on his back rubbing soothing circles until you feel his breath even out and you know he’s asleep. You look down at his beautiful sleeping face and all you can think about is how you wouldn’t want to be anywhere in the world but here, taking care of him.

#i hope you enjoy :))#jase's 100 follower celebration #jase's fic :)#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 3 years

Text

in which you and harry meet again after six months.

a/n: hiiii! this is for @theharriediaries fic challenge! the photo used is the one on the left of the banner, and the dialogue i chose was ‘Is this seat taken?’ ‘By you, I hope.’ & ‘I’m sorry it took us this long.’ thank you for creating this challenge, soph!

thank you @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, mwah! <3

WORD COUNT: 12k of dad!harry with slight angst and fluff (pls appreciate the dilfrry dialogues in this lmao)

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘THE TRAIN RIDE BACK TO US’ I’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

The gold bell chimed quite loudly, informing the baristas that someone had entered their shop. The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans immediately filled your senses once you pushed open the sage green door as the smell feeling of nostalgia and comforted you.

Everything looked the same in the coffee shop. The oak wood floor never changed with coffee stains in certain areas that didn’t quite seem to come off all the way, no matter how hard the employees scrubbed—but it gave the shop character, in your opinion. Different colored potted plants filled the shop in every corner and on the clean white windowsill, making the place look lively. Crisp oxygen mixed with Columbian coffee beans flowed around the shop, making customers want to come back to a comfortable environment. Black and white bistro tables sat within the café, with silver metal bases, holding the circular table tops up as they alternated with colors along the built-in brown bench against the light-gray colored wall; with matching black and white metal chairs that practically screeched against the oak wood floors when someone was trying to scoot in or out of the table.

The entire shop was the exact same from what you remembered it to be six months ago. The only difference was that when you sat on the wooden bench, specifically at the black table in the corner that was right next to the window, the person who was supposed to be in front of you wouldn’t be there; and for that, your heart dropped a little.

Trying not to think too much about your change of mood, you ordered your usual—an iced mocha latte with a pump of sweet vanilla syrup—before you paid and turned around to see which tables were available. The usual corner table was staring right at you, practically mocking you, and you wished that the table was occupied, but then you would’ve felt wrong sitting at a different table when yours was clearly open.

You took your seat on the bench, and almost immediately, you started shaking your leg underneath the table. Your seat felt hot, as if the wood was catching fire underneath you, burning your legs and making you antsy.

Luckily, the shop wasn’t crowded so it took the baristas less than six minutes to make your drink and to call out your name from behind the counter. Quickly, standing up from the burning hot seat, you made your way to the counter, thanking Mel for the drink. Since coming here, you had become quite a constant in the cute Portland coffee shop. Mel was one of the employees that had worked at the shop the longest, so she made everyone’s drinks because she knew the menu the best. So, you caught up with her a bit, and inevitably, she asked where you had been.

“You didn’t find a better coffee shop did you?” She teased, making you chuckle.

“No, I’ve just been, uh, too busy to come around. But I promise, your drinks and shop are still the best,” you said truthfully, to which she beamed. To this day, you hadn’t found a superior coffee shop than ‘Coava’ because the others just didn’t compare—they didn’t make you feel the same way you did with this one. “But thanks for the coffee.” You gave her one last smile before you turned around to make your way back to your table.

And then the bell chimed.

It was as if the sun was peeking out through the clouds; the sun beams strongly pointed down onto the wet pavement after a night of rain, leaving the air with its pleasant smell of petrichor. He was the light that seeped through the curtains, and you knew it was going to be a lovely day.

“Harry…” you stopped in your tracks, careful not to spill the contents of your coffee cup. Your heart skipped several beats once he flashed you his gorgeous smile that you were still hopelessly in love with.

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry mindlessly played with the buttons of his coat as he mentally tried to situate the nerves in his head and stomach. His breath felt like it was stuck in his throat, making his voice slightly trail off with a crack to the tone.

It felt like the two of you were the only ones in the coffee shop—minus the locals who were sitting at the tables, minding their own business, or wondering what the fuck they were doing standing in the middle of the shop—completely and fully captured by the other’s stare and presence.

The loud screeching noise of steam took you out of your dazy trance as you cleared your throat. Harry looked down at his feet before looking up at you through his lashes, shyly intertwining his hands behind his back.

“Uh, would you like to join me?”

Harry raised his brows at your proposal, pursing his lips to contain his giddy excitement. “S-Sure.” You took a deep breath before you started to walk towards the table in the corner—one he was also very familiar with. “This seat...Is this seat taken?” He asked politely but, almost instantly, mentally cursed himself because you wouldn’t have invited him if you were with someone.

You didn’t catch his slip up, instead, you smiled as your face grew warm. “By you, I hope.” Harry blushed, taking a seat on the black metal chair across from you.

“So, how’ve you been? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” you mentioned.

It’d been six months since the last time you saw and sat in front of Harry—a very long six months. The conversation six months ago wasn’t the most happiest of memories because that conversation brought in the heartache and heartbreak; the chat had included the mutual separation of your relationship that involved tears, chest pain, and as always, the smell of Colombian coffee that surrounded your afflictive conversation, hoping it would calm the tension between you two.

“Yeah, it has been a while, but I’m doing okay. How are you?”

“I’m good.” There was a bit of awkwardness swirling in the air, and you absolutely despised it—you wanted it to leave the shop and never return. You had always imagined what it would be like bumping into Harry again, more importantly, what you would say to him. And despite all those moments daydreaming of finding the right words, you were completely stuck, and you fully blamed it on the awkward tension. “Can we not be…y’know, awkward? That’s not us,” you simply said.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, adding a breathy laugh. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re right, that isn’t us at all.” Mel brought him an iced black coffee since it was his usual, and she saw that he didn’t get the chance to order because he was immediately occupied by the sight of you. He softly thanked her with a smile, only taking his attention off of you for a split second before his eyes were right back on you; he didn’t know what this conversation would lead to, nor did he want to get his hopes up, so that meant spending every moment with his complete attention and eyes averted to you. “I miss you…” he said.

There was a sense of relief as you exhaled deeply, glad that he wasn’t the only one who was missing the other. His words had brought a flutter of butterflies to your stomach, soaring as they pleased while your face felt warm.

You and Harry had been together for a year and a half before calling it quits. For most of the relationship, it was happiness and bliss—occasional fights, but they weren’t frequent—towards the last few months however, things were getting a bit stressful. You remembered the days like it was yesterday as the vivid memory crept inside of your head...

It was nearing nine in the evening and the house was quiet. The silence was louder than the ongoing noise inside your head that was constantly yelling at you, making your head ache from the incessant thoughts. It was safe to say that you weren’t happy, and that even Harry wasn’t happy either. But you had only gotten a glimpse of him during the evening, so you were simply assuming that he wasn’t content—but it was a very logical assumption since every time he looked at you, it seemed like he was becoming more stressed out by the minute; as if he didn’t already have a lot on his plate during the day, and by night, he would still have to deal with whatever argument and fight either of you would pick for no apparent reason.

It started with petty little arguments, getting annoyed and frustrated at the other because of burnt toast or something as small as running out of detergent for the laundry. But fighting over nothing had turned into completely confessing that you weren’t happy anymore, and that the exhaustion had gotten to you.

“I-I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Harry,” you said in between your sobs that you tried to contain. “All we’re doing is hurting each other—we’re not even happy together anymore!”

It felt like his heart was exploding, but it was the truth. “Darling…”

“You can’t lie and tell me that we’re happy together because it’s obvious that we’re not.” You wiped the tears from your face, leaving your skin damp from the moisture.

Harry sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t argue anymore. He felt defeated and upset with himself; it was like he was doing well in everything else or at least trying, and he couldn’t even do his part in being a good boyfriend to you. He knew part of the reason why both of you weren’t happy was because of the neglectance, and both of you were too exhausted to even communicate that feeling. You two were both independent entrepreneurs—always knowing when to close business and how to make a well deserved investment or sale with others who were trying to buy whatever stock or product. But when it came down to each other, to Y/N and Harry, it seemed like the individuals that were trying to please and charm others had dissipated, leaving no room or patience for each other.

“We’re both busy, Harry, I get that. And maybe it’s best if we call it quits until everything settles down—until we both know what we want—”

“I want you,” he interrupted.

You softly huffed, looking down at your lap as you slightly nodded before you looked up at him again. He had tears streaming down his face and more forming in his eyes; you loved that he wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to show his true emotions—he was being vulnerable every time he let his guard down, and for that, you would appreciate him forever.

Muffled, static cracks followed by quiet little groans were heard from the baby monitor on the coffee table. Harry glanced at it before looking back at you, knowing he had to take care of his number one priority, and who were you to stop him? So, you nodded, tilting your head towards the room, and he sadly smiled before heading towards the nursery.

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote ‘Meet me at Coava tomorrow. Usual time.’ before you placed it on the coffee table beside the monitor. As you were leaving, you heard soft humming coming from the baby monitor, and your heart squeezed, frowning as this was most likely going to be the last time you were going to be in this house. Taking one look around, you took in all of the memories that you made in the building that made you feel safe and warm before you stepped out, immediately welcomed by the cool temperatures of the evening.

The next afternoon when you walked into Coava, Harry was already sitting at the usual table you two sat at. His head was down, mindlessly wiping down the condensation that formed outside of his glass. You took a seat in front of him without saying a word, making him look up. He had dark circles around eyes as he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

“Hi,” you whispered. There was your usual cup of iced coffee placed in front of you. “Thank you for the coffee.”

He nodded and smiled softly, despite his current mood. “Hello.”

You took a deep breath. “So…where do we go from here?”

Harry sadly looked at you with desperation in his eyes that spoke, no, begged you to tell him to stay, to tell him that you two could and would work this out. But it seemed like you hadn’t received that specific message from his green and sorrowful eyes.

“You were right…We haven’t been able to make time for one another. So, we’ll just…take some time apart.” His heart and voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it hard to even form a sentence that didn’t absolutely break him. You nodded, agreeing, but it didn’t hurt any less; you knew this would be best for the two of you because both of you had to focus on yourselves, especially when Harry had his priorities, such as his family, which you weren’t going to make him change whatsoever. “Okay…so, we’re over.” He hadn’t said it as a question but rather a way to see that realization.

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his, and you were lucky that he didn’t pull away. “Harry, this doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I…will always love you.”

“And I’ll always love you too,” he said honestly.

Behind the civil and mature conversation that occurred, there was sadness and heartbreak. There were no more smiles or laughs, no more love and affection, or anymore meet-ups during lunch or coffee dates during breaks. The painful look on Harry’s face had only pained you even more, but you both knew this split-up and time apart was for the best.

That was six months ago.

Now, as you sat across Harry, you felt an overwhelming rush of relief and joy; he just looked happier and you saw a familiar glint in his eyes as he looked at you. It may not be the same sparkle of love as it once was, which you were afraid it wasn’t, but there was still some kind of sparkle—the kind someone would give when they reunite with an old friend.

“The kids miss you—they miss you a lot.”

Your eyes look at him fondly at the mention of his children. “Really?”

“Yeah, they do. They said, and I quote, they miss their ‘pretty fairy second mom,’” Harry said quite proudly.

Harry had three kids that you absolutely adored. There was Mira and Estelle, seven-year-old twins that looked like their father. Mira was very energetic and talkative—that little girl could talk for hours on end without missing a beat; Estelle was more quiet and reserved, but once you started hanging around, she opened up and was quite fun to have a laugh with. Then there was the sweet little two-year-old boy, Rory, who resembled his mother. He was always babbling and giggling, so happy and free.

If Harry was being honest, Rory was a complete accident. Him and his ex had separated and broken up when the twins were four, but they were still seeing each other. Those occasional hangouts led to another child, which they both thought would help them bond, but six months into the pregnancy, they both knew it wasn’t right anymore—not like before. So, they stuck to coparenting and, if they were speaking the truth, it was much better than being together.

When Rory was six months old, that was when Harry met you. On an unexpected literal run in the park when you and Harry were on your daily runs, the trail was only narrow and small enough for one person to run. So, when you and Harry were running towards each other, you braced yourself for the awkwardness you were about to face with the man. Harry politely smiled, moving to his left, only for you to move to your right, which made you both giggle. The two of you then moved to the opposite side, only to clash again. The thought was quite hilarious to the two of you, so you both started laughing, clutching your stomachs. Once you two calmed down, Harry then said that he was going to his left, so you moved to your left, running the opposite directions from each other.

At the end of the trail and on your way to the parking lot, you saw Harry finish the same trail but exit from the other side. And if it said anything more, you parked right next to his car as well. Harry smiled, dimples flashing and asked you how your run was, which then led to a bit of small talk. In the six minutes you two were talking, Harry made the impulsive decision to ask you if you would like some coffee. He wouldn’t have asked if it were anyone else, and until that moment he didn’t even know if he was ready to date again. But he took the chance and decided to ask you, and luckily, you said yes.

The rest was history.

“I miss them so much too.” You smiled softly, thinking about the kids that you had thought of as your own.

“I, uh, I know it’s too much to ask, but I figured I should ask either way…Would you like to see them? Mira would never live it down if I told them that I saw you and didn’t ask if you wanted to see them.” He added a chuckle at the end, nerves creeping up his skin.

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You’d let me see them?”

Harry raised his brows. “Yeah, of course! You could see them anytime you want, if you’d like. Just because we’re not, y’know, together doesn’t mean that you can’t see them. I know how much you love them and how much they love you too,” he reassured.

“Would Laurie be okay with that?” You asked about his ex and the mother of said children.

He nodded. “Yeah, she would. I mean, she also knows how much they love you.” Harry was lucky that the mother of his children and his ex was so kind and chill with having someone that Harry loved be ‘another mother’ to her children; all Laurie really asked of you was to not try and replace her role as their mom and to always keep them safe when she wasn’t around, and who were you to disrespect her wishes?

“Harry, I would love to, thank you. I really do miss them.” You felt yourself getting a bit emotional because of how much you missed the kids, and it’d felt like an eternity since you last saw them.

“Great! Tomorrow is the weekend, so are you free to go to the park and maybe get some ice cream after?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” You smiled, not too widely as you tried to contain your excitement.

Harry smiled back at you before quickly looking at his phone to check the time. “I gotta get back. But I’ll see you tomorrow and will text you the details tonight.”

“Okay, see you soon.” You stood up to hug him, and his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his chest. His stomach was doing flips as he felt your breath against the crook of his neck. He didn’t want the moment to end, and it was the most physical contact that you two had in six months.

Pulling away, he offered you a smile before bidding you goodbye, and you finally let out the breath you had been holding the moment the bell chimed and the man you still loved walked in.

A soft blush was planted on Harry’s cheeks for the entire day. He was driving from work to Laurie’s house to pick up his beloved children as he thought about how his day turned out to be.

In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to see you in the coffee shop that you two had gone to throughout the entirety of your relationship. He had just gotten out of a meeting and was debating on going to Coava because he hadn’t been there since the day you two called it quits, but he figured it was time and thought that maybe reminiscing on the memories you two had with each other wasn’t a bad thing. So, he walked into that shop thinking he was just going to get a coffee to-go, but he had gone in there and left with something so much better.

The moment his eyes landed on yours his mind had screamed and reassured him that he wasn’t just dreaming that you were standing right in front of him, he felt his stomach drop in the best way. The heat had rushed to his cheeks, tugging on the corners of his lips, urging his mouth to smile, and he did not hold back his joy when he saw you. You were beautiful, just like he remembered, but he had no doubt that there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t not absolutely stunning.

And the giddy feeling he felt when he asked you if you’d like to see the kids made his heart tumble inside of his chest as he couldn’t wait for you and the kids to finally see each other again.

Harry pulled into Laurie’s driveway, and he quickly got out and knocked on the door, waiting for Laurie to answer. He chuckled as he could practically hear the twins screaming from across the house to make sure they had everything they needed. When the door opened, he was met by his ex that he once loved, and still had some platonic love for her, naturally, as the mother of his children.

“Hey, Harry! They’re just getting their stuff ready,” she greeted with a smile, opening the door wider as she walked away from the entrance and let him in. She grabbed Rory from the couch, who was mindlessly playing with a giant puzzle piece, and gave him many kisses to his cheeks before saying goodbye to her son and handing him off to Harry.

Rory’s eyes lightened up at the sight of his father. “Dada!”

“Hi, my sweet boy. I’ve missed you.” He placed soft kisses to his chubby and squeezable cheeks.

“Girls, dad’s waiting!” Laurie called out from the bottom of the stairway before turning back towards Harry. “Why do you look like that?” She gave him a knowing look.

“Like what?” Harry asked, acting like he didn’t know what she was talking about. The blush really gave him away, he thought.

“You’re just…extra happy today.”

“Can’t I be happy, Laurie? To see my kids?” He teased, smirking as he hugged Rory to his chest.

“I mean, sure, but…did something happen today?”

His smile widened, and it was like he couldn’t contain the exciting feeling anymore and he just had to tell someone. “I saw Y/N today.”

Her brows raised. “Really? How is she?”

“She’s doing well, yeah. We talked for a little bit.” Was all that he told her.

“And I’m assuming it went well.” He nodded, not wanting to tell her more. “Well, that’s great, Harry. She was, is, a lovely woman and she took care of the kids, so that’s all that matters to me,” Laurie said genuinely; she wasn’t jealous, if she was being honest. All that mattered to her was that her kids were in good hands.

Suddenly more footsteps were coming down the stairs. “Dad!” The twins yelled at the same time. He put Rory down for a moment before he bent down to hug his two girls.

“Hi, my loves. How are you?” He kissed both of their cheeks, making their small arms hug him tighter.

“Dad, I scored one hundred percent on all my spelling tests, so I’m qualified for the spelling bee!” Mira explained excitedly once she let go of Harry.

“Really?! That’s amazing, bug. This week, I’ll help you study for it.” Mira beamed at that before walking over to her mom to say bye.

“How are you, my sunshine?” He directly asked Estelle, knowing that she was specifically waiting for Harry to have his attention on only her. Even though she’d never told him that, he could tell that sometimes Estelle lets Mira have her moment and wanted to speak with Harry when no one else was paying attention.

“I’m good. My teacher told me I could become a math…mathmat—daddy, what are they called?” She looked at Harry for help.

“Look at you, sunshine! I’m so proud of you my little mathematician.” Estelle’s eyes widened. “Is that you meant mathematician, sweetheart?” He smiled.

“Yes, that! I did good on my math test and even baked cookies for you!” Before Harry could say anything, Estelle ran off to the kitchen to grab the plate of cookies she baked last night.

“Alright, babies, let’s go. Say bye to mommy.” The kids said their goodbyes before Harry safely buckled them into their car seats and drove home for a week at their father’s.

When all four of them reached the front door, Harry told the twins to put their belongings away and wash up for dinner. He set Rory down in his high chair before cutting up some bananas in halves, and placing them on the plastic table in front of him for his pre-dinner snack. Knowing that his kids liked home cooked meals better than takeout, fortunately, he set out the ingredients to make some fried rice, which was quick and easy.

The twins rushed down the stairs once Harry put the leftover rice into the pan filled with sautéed veggies, and they settled onto the couch in front of the TV, waiting for dinner.

“Loves, set the table for me, please!” He called out from the kitchen as he transferred the rice from the pan to a large bowl, topping it with green onions. The girls each had a task for setting the table; Mira was in charge of forks and spoons, and Estelle handled the plates since she was less clums. He rolled Rory’s high chair over to the table, which he was so lucky to have gotten a high chair with wheels because it was so much easier to move him without carrying him and the chair; and he gave everyone an equal scoop, depending on how much they ate, and if they wanted seconds, he would be glad to serve them more.

As they ate, Harry was occasionally helping Rory eat the rice, just picking up the contents that didn’t make it into his mouth, as Estelle and Mira both took turns talking. Harry loved family dinner, he tried his very best to give all three of his children the attention that they deserved, but dinner was the one time they bonded the most because no one felt competitive or had the urge to start an argument when there was food in front of them.

“Daddy, how was your day?” Estelle asked curiously, and Harry smiled at his sunshine, as if she was the sun itself, heart swooning.

“It was great, thanks for asking, my love.” He placed his spoon on his plate. “I actually wanted to talk to you all about something.” The twins didn’t respond, just stared at him, encouraging him to continue. “Do you remember Y/N?” Just at the sound of your name, the crowd went absolutely wild.

“Y/N, yes!” Screamed Estelle, which was rare for her to raise her voice.

“Pretty, fairy second mom, of course we remember her, dad!” Mira exclaimed obviously.

“Fairy!” Rory had repeated the only word he could make out from Mira’s mouth as he fussed because of the volume that had increased from his sisters.

Harry laughed. “Alright, okay, settle down. Well, I saw her today.” The twins gasped, making him chuckle. It genuinely felt like he was on a talk show with a live audience. “And I wanted to ask you all if you wanted to see her tomorrow? Figured we could go to the park and get some ice cream together?” He asked hesitantly, even though he knew they’d say yes, and he’d get another chance to see you again.

“Yes!” The girls both answered.

Harry beamed, turning to Rory. “Bubba, remember Y/N? Your slide friend? Remember you used to go on the slide with Y/N?” Rory giggled, a sound that was Harry’s weakness, and nodded. “Do you wanna see her tomorrow?”

“Slide with fairy?” Rory asked, and Harry laughed.

“Yes, slide with fairy,” he confirmed, and Rory nodded his head eagerly.

Harry smiled, glad his kids were with the plans tomorrow. The rest of the dinner was filled with the twins talking about you; they talked about what you all could do together at the park and what they wanted to show you, and Harry would be lucky if they slept through the entire night without continuously waking up because of their excitement for the upcoming afternoon.

Once everything was cleaned up and put away, the twins washed and cleaned, Harry give Rory a bath, and everyone was ready for bed, Harry said good night to his babies, spending about five minutes cuddling and talking them to sleep until they fluttered their eyes closed and off to slumber.

Sighing, Harry closed his door, leaving the baby monitor from Rory’s room on his bedside table before he was able to unwind for the day. He always spent an extra amount of time on his skin care routine, figuring that he sometimes didn’t have time for himself and the only time he had was during nights.

When he was ready for bed, he felt a huge amount of relief to be getting into bed after a long but grateful day, and he picked up his phone and clicked on your message thread. The last time you two texted was a few weeks after the breakup, asking if you were doing okay, and he could practically feel the awkward tension through the texts as he reread them. But he was glad that this time would be a much lighter and better conversation.

Hi, Y/N. Hope this is the right number still. But if it is, kids are on board for tomorrow. Does 12:30 work for you? We could meet at the usual park. If it’s not Y/N, please don’t meet at the usual park because the kids are not on board.

You chuckled at the end of his text, happy to see that Harry is always trying to make jokes and be the comedian.

Hi, Harry! Don’t worry, this is Y/N. Probably would have hunted the person with my number down to get tomorrow’s plans. But that sounds perfect! I can't wait to see the kids tomorrow. See you then!

Harry softly smiled at his phone, not feeling the need to respond and figured he would talk to you a lot more tomorrow while the kids are playing. He stared at the message for quite some time, completely blank as he couldn’t believe the chances that he happened to see you at the shop six months after the breakup, and now he’s making plans with you tomorrow; his jaw was aching from smiling so much.

A few minutes later, he put his phone away to change before he comfortably situated himself under the blanket, feeling the heaviness of his eyes. But once he felt himself starting to drift away into dreamland, his phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he tried his best to ignore it, but curiosity got the best of him, so he picked up his phone and opened the new message.

And I can’t wait to see you tomorrow too.

And just like that, Harry was wide awake, struggling to sleep, but a smile permanently etched on his face for the night.

The day that everyone in the Styles’ household had been waiting for had finally arrived. Luckily, the kids had gotten their needed hours of sleep; Harry had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but when the sun seeped through his curtains, he didn’t dread getting up for the day. Instead, he felt a rush of eagerness, instantly remembering what the day held for him and his kids, and he jumped right out of bed.

Once the four of them were out of the house, Harry had successfully fed, cleaned, and changed his children with no complaints. The house and car ride was filled with conversations about how excited they were to see you again, asking how many more hours there was until they got to see you and if they were almost at the park.

Screams bounced off the roof of the car once Harry parked on the side of the curb; the twins had already taken their seatbelts off, getting antsy as they waited for their dad to open the car from the outside. Harry unbuckled Rory, carrying him until he rounded on the other side of the car to open the door for the twins. They quickly jumped out, clearly excited, but Harry did not forget to remind them that this was still a public area and anything could happen.

“Girls, slow down, please.” Estelle was holding Harry’s hand as Mira was holding her sister’s; Harry was still carrying Rory in his arms because his sister’s were practically lugging Harry with all their might, trying to get to their usual spot, so he didn’t want Rory to get hurt. “Loves, you know Y/N would tell you the exact same thing. Please, just slow down for me.” He pulled the Y/N card on them, knowing that they were better listeners with you than they are with him.

Once they were all close enough, they spotted a thick beige blanket under the tree with a picnic basket, and you sitting on top of it, setting everything up.

“Y/N!” The girls both screamed, Estelle letting go of Harry’s hand as they both ran towards you.

You looked up at the sound of your name, eyes brightening at the little girls running. “My Princesses! Hi, my loves!” You opened your arms widely, inviting the twins into your arms— they practically collided into your arms, making you fall onto your back since you didn’t get the chance to stand up—and embracing them with a big hug. Laughs came out of all of your mouths as wide smiles permanently stayed on your faces. “Oh, I missed you two so much!” You kissed both of their cheeks, making them giggle. You stood up, helping the girls up and brushed their clothes off with your hand from the grass. Harry and Rory were in sight, and Harry put the little boy down, making Rory run towards you. “My sweetheart, oh, you’ve gotten so big.” You hugged Rory to your chest, placing your hand behind his head as your other arm wrapped around his small body.

You were glad that Rory still had some memory of you, and didn’t shy away behind his father’s leg. You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, taking in his baby scent that you always loved.

After Rory was starting to fuss in your arms, most likely due to feeling overwhelmed from the lack of space, you let go of him before standing up.

“Hi, Y/N,” Harry greeted, offering a hug, which you gladly took.

You rubbed his back. “Hi, Harry. I’m so glad I’m here with you all.” You pulled away, smiling at him. Harry’s heart pounded against his chest at the sight of you smiling up at him. His heart did a backflip at the sight of your gorgeous smile, trickling all the way down to his stomach where it triggered the butterflies to release from the net.

“Please, we were all really excited to see you. So, thank you for agreeing.” His hand innocently ran down your arm, sending shivers down your spine.

You turned around to look at the kids who were making themselves comfortable on the blanket. You and Harry joined them as you sat in between Estelle and Rory, and Harry sat in between Mira and Rory.

“Okay, so I made some sandwiches. You all still like grilled cheese, right?” You hoped, and the twins nodded; you turned towards Rory. “What about you, sweet pea? Grilled cheese?” At the sound of cheese, Rory nodded his head and clapped his hands, making you smile.

Harry was so lost in his mind and heart that he was simply so distracted in helping you out as you unwrapped the sandwiches from the foil, putting them on a paper plate. He was just so fond of watching you interact with his children so naturally, like there was no time that was wasted when you and Harry were apart. And he was especially happy that the kids still loved you just as much as they did when you two were together; and how they still kept talking about you despite the breakup.

Aside from you and Harry, the kids had taken the breakup the hardest. From the knowledge they had based on what Harry and Laurie told them, they understood that their mommy and daddy couldn’t be together anymore due to adult reasons; it took them a while to adjust to that, but they eventually managed and figured it was better and more fun. But when Harry had to break the news on why they wouldn’t be seeing their ‘Pretty Fairy Second Mom’ anymore, they took it harder than expected. They simply looked at it as you didn’t want to see them anymore, which wasn’t the case at all, Harry explained.

“Sometimes adults need to take some time apart, loves. That does not mean that Y/N doesn’t love you anymore because she does very much, I can tell you that. But it's good to have some time to yourself, especially in a relationship.”

“But daddy, I thought you were gonna be together forever with Y/N,” Estelle spoke up, tears in her eyes. He was lucky that his kids loved you so much, and he never doubted that they weren’t going to. But his fear had come true when you two called it quits and he had to tell them the truth.

“And maybe we will, but as for right now, it’s best to be apart. Sometimes being apart saves the relationship rather than letting it burn,” he told them honestly, which was the best as he could explain it.

“D-Does Y/N still love you?” Mira asked softly. It wasn’t like Mira to be so soft spoken, which meant that the breakup had affected her deeply.

Harry sighed, grabbing both of their small hands. “She does,” he replied for the sake of more tears coming out of their eyes—plus, he was taking your word for it back at the cafe. “And she also loves you all so much too,” he reminded them again. What he really wanted to say was that maybe one day you two will get back together, but he really didn’t want to get their hopes up.

Looking back on his conversation from half a year ago, he was glad that he told them the truth on why you two broke up. He didn’t want to confuse his children even further, making them completely oblivious to the situation—he just wanted to be honest with them because he hoped you two would meet again and get back together at some point.

“Harry, would you like one?” You asked, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts. He smiled, nodding, not trusting his voice to speak; and you gladly handed him a plate with a sandwich, pouring some chips onto the side—his favorite chips, you still remembered.

“Thank you.” He smiled softly. The corners of your lips turned up as you bashfully looked at the picnic basket in front of you. You placed Rory’s plate in front of him as he seemed to have crawled to sit closer to you, and you cut out his sandwich into small pieces, along with cutting his grapes in half. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He stopped you from what you were doing, ready to take Rory from your side as he didn’t want you to feel obligated to take care of him.

“Oh, if you don’t want me to, that’s fine. But I wouldn’t mind feeding him a bit.”

“If you want to.”

You gave him the sweetest grin, and Harry was lucky to be sitting down because his knees would give out on him if he were standing. “I want to.” He only nodded, a crimson color laid on his cheeks.

Harry comfortably watched as you made conversation with the twins as you fed Rory. You always gave them your undivided attention; your expression always lit up everytime they talked about something they were passionate about or interested in, and it just made Harry fall even more with how you were always so supportive in what his kids loved. You were always uplifting them, never dragging their hopes and dreams down.

After everyone was finished with their meals and had time to digest their food, the twins asked if they could go on the swings and Harry said yes. The tree that they were under was only a few feet away, so Harry had a clear view of his girls.

“You’re, like, a magician.” Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence once the girls were safely on the swing.

You chuckled. “How’s that?”

“It’s like hiring a magician at a party—everyone is so excited to see what they do and see them in general—you’re like that; the girls and Rory were so excited to see you.”

You playfully gasped, holding Rory to your chest. “You were excited to see me? Well, I was excited to see you!” You booped his nose, making Rory giggle.

“Fairy!” He exclaimed, and you and Harry laughed. Rory was a quiet two-year-old, but he picked up on keywords that he repeatedly said.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” You cut to the chase, skipping the small talk.

Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Nope. Not entirely sure if anyone wants to date a thirty-four-year-old with three kids.”

You raised your brows in shock, and he knew that look you’re giving him very well—prepared to tease him; even though you weren’t that much younger than him either. “What? Do you think no one wants to date a hot dad? Harry, you’re peak-dilf, everyone wants to date you.”

“And what about you? Do you wanna date me? A dilf?” He teased; a smirk that you knew all too well appeared on his face, making you want to kiss it off, which was what you used to do.

Pursing your lips and cheeks heating up, you gave him an obvious look before you said, “Think you know the answer to that one, baby.” In all honesty, the pet name had slipped, and for a brief moment your eyes widened at the realization, but you brushed it off and continued with your confident and teasing attitude; and it worked quite well on Harry because he definitely heard what you used to call him loud and clear. It made his heart flutter as he missed you calling him that; he never wanted to hear that name come out of anyone else’s mouth because only yours would do it justice.

Harry was left to ponder about your response before you changed the subject, talking to Rory. “Sweets, do you wanna go on the slide?” The little boy jumped up and down, pulling your arm as he had a big smile on his face. You looked at Harry, and he gave you a nod, telling you that he would stay put and watch your belongings.

You and Rory walked hand in hand, or more like hand and finger, to the slide. It was an open purple slide with two sides, and it lasted about two seconds if you slid correctly and if the slide was slippery enough. You helped Rory step onto the playground as the dull metal steps were quite high for him to reach on his own before you guided him towards the slide.

Sitting down at the top and on the edge of the slide, you carried Rory into your lap, hyping him up for what he had been waiting for. “Ready, sweets? Are you ready?” Your tone was pure excitement as you squeezed and tickled his belly.

“Go, Y/N, go!” Directed Rory, and you scooted forward and held onto the sweet boy in your arms tightly as you two slid down the slide. Mouthfuls of squealing screams and giggles came from Rory’s mouth as he clapped his hands towards the end of the slide, causing you to cheer as well.

And the proper dad that he was, Harry clicked the red button on the screen to stop recording you and Rory from the slide. He zoomed in, capturing the bright smiles placed on his sweet boy’s and the love of his life’s face, screenshotting the perfect frame. He didn’t think the day could have gone any better than this; it was quite the perfect day, he thought.

When it was rounding two in the afternoon, Rory’s eyes were starting to droop, exhaustion taking over him from running around for almost an hour that his little body couldn’t keep up, so a nap was in his favor. He lazily looked up at you, reaching his arms up for you to carry him, which you happily held him. He settled his head on your shoulder, and it only took a few kisses and back rubs for him to be out like a light while the sun still shined in his face.

You walked over to the blanket, figuring it was time to call it a day at the park; Harry and the twins were running around nearby on the bedded grass area playing tag. They retreated to the blanket once they saw you with Rory in your arms, breaths heavy from their run.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet boy.” Harry sighed when he got to spot under the tree; you handed Rory to him, admiring the two boys cuddling as Harry pressed quiet and soft kisses to his son’s head. Since your lap was available, Estelle and Mira took the chance to finally be able to properly cuddle you since Rory was taking most of your attention. The girls took one leg each, and you wrapped your arms around their waist, kissing their shoulder.

The five of you stayed put for a while, calming down under the breezy weather that had started to pick up until it got even colder was when Harry decided it was time to leave. Luckily the girls were still awake to help with cleaning up, and were rather helpful because Harry was trying his best with Rory situated on one side of his body.

Once all of you were next to your cars, Harry placed Rory in his car seat as you were hugging the girls goodbye. You and Harry agreed that everyone was too tired to go out for some ice cream since all the twins wanted to do was lie down. Harry knew he didn’t want the day to end, even though it was still quite early, but the older he got, the tougher it was to keep up with his little children who just loved running around; a relaxing and peaceful night was calling him.

“Hey.” Harry closed the passenger door before he rounded the car to meet you on the grass. “I know we talked about going for ice cream today, but it seemed like we’re all too tired, but I was wondering…” he paused for a moment, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. “Would you like to come over? Maybe…for dinner, or to have a glass or w-water?” He scratched the back of his neck, nerves getting the best of him.

You smiled, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was flustered. “Harry, I’d love to. Feels like I haven’t drank any water so I’m parched,” you teased.

He breathed out a laugh. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you home.” He gave you another smile before walking away and inside of his car, completely unaware of his choice of words.

Home. More specifically, Harry’s home. It was a place that made you feel safe, and if you’re being honest, it’s been too long since you’d had complete solace.

Your mental pep-talk throughout the drive toward Harry’s had helped in some way. Keeping it simple without driving your mind into overthinking every single thought, you laid it all down as if you were planning and preparing a business proposal.

You didn’t want to dive deep into what Harry’s invitation could entail—more like you didn’t want to get your hopes up on if you two were to get back together because the potential rejection you could face would absolutely crush you. Harry’s a kind and sweet guy, he’s simply inviting a friend over for a drink and dinner, if you could even call yourself that. Plus, it was still early to fully call it a day, and he planned for ice cream after the park, so he was fulfilling that promise of sweet dessert.

Without realizing, you’d been sitting in your car for a solid five minutes, staring over your steering wheel as you were parked on the curb in front of Harry’s house. Harry’s car was already in the driveway, so they were just waiting on you.

You walked towards the front door, and it swung open before you even got the chance to knock.

“Hey, thought you’d change your mind when you weren’t getting out of the car,” Harry joked, although that thought really crossed his mind when he peeked out through the window and saw you still in your car.

You chuckled nervously. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t.” You stepped inside his house, and a wave of nostalgia rushed through you as if you were at the beach and the harsh current knocked you over as you were trying to walk against the sandy wind.

Everything still looked the same—the same since the night you left without another word to the kids, just a note to Harry telling you to meet at the shop. A pinch of guilt appeared in your face as you frowned, and Harry immediately took notice, but you waved it off as you slightly smiled, telling him that you two would talk later. He didn’t press any further, waiting until later or when you were ready. Instead, he asked if you wanted anything to drink, to which he already knew you’d go for a class of Cabernet, and luckily, he had some in stock—more like, he still had the untouched bottle for when you stayed over.

The two of you leaned against the cold granite counter as music softly played on the speaker that was connected through Bluetooth on his phone. Conversations were light, but it wasn’t awkward in any sense. As a matter of fact, it felt just like old times when you would stay over his house, talking about each other’s day and simply enjoying the presence of one another. That’s what you think this was, you thought—enjoying the fact that Harry was in front of you after so many months and you were cherishing it until the next set of months went by.

After a few conversations and sips of wine later, the time had gone by fairly fast, which always happened when you were with him, and it was nearing five. The kids had woken up from their nap at four and quietly settled in the living room—the twins on the couch in front of the television and Rory was on the padded mat playing with his toys, occasionally talking to his sisters. Harry asked if you would be okay watching them so he could make dinner, and you were close to reminding him that he didn’t need to ask to watch his kids, but then again, you had to remind yourself that things were a bit different now. So, you said that you didn’t mind and walked over to the sofa chair next to the couch and watched TV with the girls as well as play with Rory.

Twenty-five minutes had gone by and Harry called everyone, announcing that dinner was ready. You all walked into the dining room, taking your seats. Your assigned seat was next to Rory’s chair, which was in between you and Harry; the girls were sitting across from you. Once everyone took several bites of Harry’s dinner--a quick fettuccine alfredo--the chatter was back. You enthusiastically listened to the girls and Rory talk; it made Harry smile, loving how natural everything felt.

Estelle tapped Harry’s shoulder, making him turn towards her with a smile on his face. “What is it, sunshine?” She got off her chair, leaning over to whisper something into his ear and he smiled, turning back to his family who was curious as to what Estelle had said. “Go ahead and ask her, love.”

You put down your fork and placed your arms on the table. “What’s up, Princess?”

“Uh, c-can we go to that place?”

“What place is that?” You asked curiously.

“That place where you told Daddy you loved him,” she responded quite bashfully. Your mouth was slightly open, not expecting her to say what she did. Looking over at Harry, he simply had a soft smile on his face with his brows raised, shrugging his shoulders.

Did you want to go back there? The answer was a simple yes. There wasn’t any excuse that you could possibly make up on the spot as to why you couldn’t go there, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad place whenever you thought about it. In fact, you really missed going over there and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think about that place often.

Your head turned towards Estelle. “Sure, why not. How about we go tomorrow?” You asked everyone, and they all had smiles on their faces. You looked at Harry, directly asking him for permission. “Is that okay?” His elbow was resting against the arm of the brown chair, fingers placed under his lips as he slightly puckered his soft and pink lips; without looking under the table, you knew his legs were crossed. Harry smiled, nodding his head, and everyone cheered.

The rest of the time everyone was sitting at the dinner table, you all talked about plans for tomorrow, and everyone was really excited. Once it was almost eight, Harry realized that it was almost their bedtime, so he hurried them up the stairs to get ready for bed before saying goodnight to you, getting in as many hugs and kisses as they could get.

Harry was upstairs, changing Rory and putting him to bed before he walked down and found you in the kitchen washing dishes. He slipped past you, placing his hand along your lower back briefly before he grabbed the dish rag. The action sent a chill down your spine and you immediately missed his hands on you.

“The kids seem really excited about tomorrow.” Harry broke the silence, glancing over at you as you continued to wash the dishes.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really excited too.”

Harry noticed the slight shortness, and he thought it may be because you were tired. “Hey, are you okay?”

You turned off the water and faced him, crossing your arms as he did the same.

“Do the kids hate me?” The corner of his lips turned up before he started laughing, clutching his stomach. If it were any other time, you would obsess over his laugh; it was music to your ears, the highlight of your day, and the sun when it’s bright out. You softly slapped his arm. “Harry! I’m being serious!”

“Darling, you’re joking, right?” Your heart briefly fluttered at his nickname for you. “Those kids love you!” He noticed your change of attitude and that you’d been thinking about this for a while and beating yourself up over it.

“It’s just…I don’t want them to think that we broke up and I forgot about them. I mean I understand if they see it that way because I left without saying another word for six months--didn’t even get to say goodbye to them and have a proper talk. I just don’t want them to hate me.” You looked down at your feet as you played with the thin silver band on your middle finger.

Harry’s seen you in work mode, and it reeks confidence and power. You don’t need much reassurance during work unless it’s when your employees tell you that progress is moving along. But this was completely different; you needed all the reassurance that you could get to get it through your head that the kids that you’d come to love--from the moment you met them--don’t hate you. And Harry didn’t mind telling you over and over again.

“They were just that we split up, that’s all. But they quickly understood why.”

“What’d you tell them?” You asked curiously.

“The truth--that sometimes it’s better to be apart for a while rather than drive ourselves crazy. Told them that when the time is right, then maybe we’ll get back together.” The look in his eyes was so comforting that you immediately fell into them. Harry was always the best with giving you that extra reassurance that you and his kids need.

You felt the extra beat in your chest that pumped so harshly against your chest, but it was surrounded by butterflies, making it flutter throughout your body. As you looked so deeply into Harry’s beautiful green eyes, you realized one of two things; the first thing was that you never wanted to look so deeply into another person’s eyes unless it was Harry’s; and the second thing was that you were incredibly and overwhelmingly still in love with this man and his three children, and there hadn’t been a day that gone by where you weren’t.

Taking a deep breath, itches were crawling up your skin, begging you to say something. “D-Do you think it’s time?” Your voice asked shyly.

Harry was taken back by your question as he raised his brows. He couldn’t deny the nerves that he felt whenever he was around you, but your question seemed to have increased his nervousness.

“We’ve been separated for what feels like a long time now.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he recouped his thoughts to say the right words. “I think-”

“Daddy?” Yours and Harry’s head whipped towards the staircase, finding Estelle at the bottom of it with groggy eyes.

Harry walked towards his sunshine. “What is it, my love?” He kneeled down onto the bottom step, matching her height. Estelle told him that she couldn’t sleep, and that she’s been tossing and turning for a while, so Harry told her that he would lay with her until she fell asleep and carried her to her bedroom. He looked back at you as he was walking up the steps, and you gave him a soft smile, letting him know that it was completely okay.

You finished tidying up the kitchen, wiping down the counters and cleaning the dining table until you realized that you needed to get ready for tomorrow’s adventure.

Once Harry came down the stairs, he found you sitting on the edge of the armchair with your purse on your shoulder; you looked up as he walked up to you.

“I’m gonna head out.”

Harry’s slightly frowned. “Oh, you can stay the night if you want to.”

“No, it’s okay, thanks.” You really did want to stay the night, but you didn’t have a change of clothes for tomorrow. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He nodded, walking you to the door, opening it for you.

You stepped out on his doorstep, turning around as you wrapped your arm around his waist, tiptoeing to plant a kiss to his cheek. The slightest bit of touch from your lips sent Harry’s skin on fire, warming up to the affection. The touch was sent away too quickly as you let go of him completely, giving him one last smile before walking to your car and waving at him as you drove away.

Harry closed the door, the palm of his hand cupped the cheek that you kissed and he sighed as if he was shot with Cupid’s love-arrow, and he wouldn’t mind it if it meant he would feel your affection every single day.

You arrived at the Styles household at ten in the morning with a tote-full of snacks and water, knowing the kids would get hungry from all the walking. You got there forty-five minutes earlier than planned, knowing that the Styles family wouldn’t be out the door right on time because Harry has three kids, two of them who bicker and complain from time to time—especially when they’re sleepy—and a two-year-old who was starting to run away from everything. So, you figured Harry would appreciate your help.

When Harry saw you standing on his doorstep, he let out a sigh of relief. He was still in his striped pajamas pants and a white t-shirt, holding a small pair of olive green pants. You walked in and saw Rory running around half naked, despite it being early in the morning. You told Harry that he could shower and get ready for the day, and to leave it to you because you’ll handle it—plus, you both knew that the kids often listened to you more than their own dad. He smiled appreciatively, kissing your head briefly before walking up the stairs and getting ready.

Once Rory saw you, he stopped running around the house and instead, ran towards you and into your arms. You carried him up the stairs and to his room to get some clothes on him, and luckily, Harry was able to bathe him before you showed up. You gave him his favorite toy to fumble with before you walked into Mira's room, setting Rory on her twin bed before helping her get ready. You left Rory in Mira’s room and went to Estelle’s bedroom, doing the same.

By the time Harry walked downstairs, you and the three kids were sitting on the couch, eating a banana. He smiled, slowing his steps as he was amazed at the quietness and stillness in the house, but then again, he wasn’t that amazed because he knew you’d come in and get things in order.

Harry’s home was a two minute walk to the train station, and everyone decided to take the train since it was what you and Harry did when you two were dating, and the kids really wanted to walk through the entire path of their father’s love story.

Luckily, there weren’t that many people on the train—it was practically empty—so they didn’t have to rush to get a spot for the kids. Rory sat in the middle of his sisters as they all smiled brightly towards Harry’s phone that was capturing the adorable children for a sweet memory sake. You and Harry were standing, making sure neither of the kids fell over if the train made a halting stop. You held onto the metal bar above you, Harry held the bar that was mounted into the floor, and you both watched the kids interact with one another—counting on their fingers, booping one another’s noses, and laughing; it was every parent’s dream.

Without noticing, Harry moved closer to you, placing his hand directly next to yours; the side of your hand touched his, and you looked at him with wide eyes while your heart fluttered. You were hip to hip, and you saw the smirk he had on his face while occasionally glancing over at you. You couldn’t help the heat that rose onto your cheeks because it felt like old times when you two used to ride the train together and it would get too packed to where you had to stand up; he would always face you as your hands touched—sometimes he would even intertwine your fingers together while you two held the bar as you were one—and he would hover over you, giving you plentiful kisses like the true romantic that he was.

The train ride took about 30 minutes and it was a two minute walk to the place that gave you so many happy memories and nostalgia—International Rose Test Garden was where the memories of you and Harry were stored.

You had the girls on either side of you, holding their hands; and Harry carried Rory since he was likely to run around and Harry didn’t want to risk his safety.

The sun was bright—beautiful for a day in the garden as the roses and flowers bloomed ever so widely. All of you walked the rows and rows of flowers, occasionally taking pictures in front of the rose bushes.

Remembering all the times you and Harry were hand in hand, laughing until your stomachs were sore, like you did an intense ab workout, and there were tears resting in the outer corner of your eyes. All the memories that were swirling around in your head made you come to the conclusion to one thing: you never want to be without Harry and his kids ever again.

You don’t know how it took you so long to realize this, maybe it was seeing them for the first time in six months that you realized that you had it great—a small family that accepted you and loved you for who you were, and you loved them just the same.

Harry walked beside you, the kids skipping and playing around in the grass in front of you two. Confidently, you slipped your hand into Harry’s ringed hand, immediately intertwining your fingers together as if your hand knew what it was missing. Harry briefly looked down before looking at you. He smiled, and turned his head back towards the kids, not making a big deal of it as his warm hand accepted the coldness of yours.

You gently tugged against his arm, pulling him back as he came face to face with you; a quiet gasp came out of his mouth when doing so. You looked up at him with bright eyes, and Harry was taken back to a year and a half ago where you, coincidentally, were in this same spot on the very green patch of grass.

“Harry…” you breathed out, looking down at your feet nervously. He made the bold move to step closer to you, chests almost touching. Harry lifted your chin up with his fingers, locking eyes with you so intently that you practically lost your breath.

“What is it?” He whispered.

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I-I realized something.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Glancing over at the kids, they were giving you big smiles and thumbs up for reassurance, and your heart swooned at their support and love they provided you to finally get back together with their father, even if you weren’t their biological mother.

You looked back at Harry, who was waiting patiently. “I love you. I still do and never stopped.” Harry felt like he stopped breathing at that moment. “You make me so happy—you and the kids, and I don’t want to be without you all anymore. I-I don’t like how it’s only taken me this much time to tell you this, but it felt like the perfect time since this was the place where I first told you I loved you.”

Harry smiled, taking your hands into his. His thumbs smoothed your skin on the back of your hand before he brought them up to his lips and kissed them so delicately. The action made you smile softly before your mind had switched it to thinking that it was affection before the rejection.

But then he opened his mouth to speak such beautiful words that you had been aching to hear during the breakup.

“You’re my everything. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you because you. You’re part of my source of happiness, and life didn’t feel the same without you—the kids could agree with me on that.” He chuckled, looking at them to find them holding hands and jumping around in circles. “But I know that we separated for the better only for us to come back stronger than ever, and I’m never gonna let go of you again, okay?”

Tears pricked your eyes before they streamed down your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was pounding harder than ever, but it was filled with so much love from and for this man in front of you.

Harry wiped away your tears, leaning in to kiss your forehead, down to your eyelids as he kissed your tears away. He pulled away and you opened your eyes, giving each other a relieved and happy smile.

“I love you,” he said, and he swore he saw the brightest smile he’s ever seen—brighter than the sun. “Always have and always will.”

“And I love you. C-Can you kiss me, please?”

Harry grinned. “It would be an honor.”

Placing his palms on the side of your face, he leaned his forehead against yours. Your hands were wrapped around his wrists, rubbing his skin softly. With a smile, he kissed you with such softness and passion that the flowers bloomed largely and the sun shined ever so brightly. The kids cheered and clapped, making bystanders think that you’d just gotten engaged, but you both knew that would be the next step. Your stomach was in knots, butterflies surrounding your body as he captured your lips with his. Hugging Harry’s waist, you pulled him closer and wrapped your arms around him, and he kissed you harder, effortlessly moving his lips in sync with yours as if he was a pro on kissing you, which he was.

Harry pulled away first, giving you several pecks before opening his eyes. “God, I missed doing that. Missed you so much, darling.”

“I missed you too, baby.” You were high on happiness, high on love. “I’m sorry it took us this long.” A slight frown appeared on your face, but Harry kissed it away.

“Hey, hey. None of that. I would’ve loved you until the end of time. I don’t care how long it took, you’re my forever,” he vowed, not planning to break that promise.

Missing his lips on yours, you leaned up to kiss him again while your arms were wrapped around his neck and his were around your waist, holding you tightly as if he was afraid you’d run off.

Suddenly, you started giggling into the kiss, making Harry smile before he pulled away.

“What’s so funny?” He asked. You started thinking about the conversation from the park when you asked him if he was seeing someone.

You curled in your lips before you said, “You’re a literal dilf, and I’m so in love with you.”

please tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, favorite moments and scenes! thank you for reading <3

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles au #dad!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Golden Thread

Prompt: since Janus is Deceit, what if it takes a physical toll on him when he only tells the truth and doesn't manipulate anyone for a period of time? could you please write a oneshot where Janus is in a position where he really needs to to tell the truth, but he can tell he's getting close to his truth limit? - anon

Hey! I don't know if you're still taking requests for prompts (and I apologize if you aren't), but could you do Janus-centric fluffy hurt/comfort? And maybe a polyship? (If you want to, of course). - anon

Thanks for the prompts, babes! This was supposed to go up yesterday and I’m so sorry I forgot

Read on Ao3

Warnings: sympathetic remus & janus, other than that, it’s not that bad

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 5874

There is a thread that winds through Janus’s tongue.

Thin, golden, finely spun with lies. It tastes sweet against the back of his teeth, the back of his throat. As he talks, it colors his words with a soft gleam, spinning and spinning into the air in front of him. It coils neatly around his throat as its spool and winks.

Most of the time its taste is enough to curl the corners of his mouth upwards into a smirk, watching it wind and weave its way around the others. Sometimes he thinks he can see other threads, clasping delicately around wrists, arms, knees, necks. Sometimes he can’t resist letting his threat tug them this way and that. Come on, what good is temptation if you never give in to it? He’s grown fond of the sweetness it leaves on his tongue, in his words. Saccharine as they may be, the haze they leave behind is more than enough to make up for it.

Sometimes the sweetness is too much. He swears he can feel cavities forming in the back of his mouth. His teeth start to ache. And sometimes…sometimes he doesn’t care. It’s too much fun to keep tugging this way and that at the others, too entertaining to let the thread unspool and unspool from his throat, filling the air with its golden light. His smile sharpens and the tangle grows, because what’s the fun of it without a little risk of hurt?

Other times he knows to back off. He adores the others, but no matter how fun they are to play with, he knows not to push too hard. At those times, he lets the sweetness spill off of his tongue, gently winds the thread back around his own throat. It always protests, the lack of sweetness making his tongue ache, the grip on his throat just a little too tight. But the looks on their faces…the begrudging gratitude, the sincere remark, or--god forbid—the poorly disguised hope…well.

Sometimes he wonders whether or not it’d be worth it to keep the thread fully wound.

Not that he ever would, it’s just a thought experiment.

It’s not like he wonders what it would feel like to have Patton be able to listen to him easily, not make it a fight to get his point across. He doesn’t want to have an engaging conversation with Logan about philosophy, ethics, science, anything just to hear the brilliant man talk. He refuses to entertain the idea of being a proper source of comfort for Virgil. He wouldn’t enjoy snarking with Remus just for fun and not because he doesn’t know how to do anything else.

And he…

Well.

The idea of being able to have an honest conversation with Roman makes him fill to the brim, top to toes, with hatred.

He doesn’t have much of a choice.

He can speak a few times with the thread coiled up, just enough when it really counts. He knows the others, he can’t just play with them all the time, he’ll get bored. And they’re not really cut out for it. And as much as he loves to see them squirm out of their comfort zones, it’s not good for Thomas. That’s his real priority.

Janus pushes open the door to his room and sighs, taking his hat off and hanging it carefully up on its stand. He summons his cane and makes it the rest of the way to the desk, plopping himself into the chair and scrubbing his hand through his hair.

“They’re so slow,” he mutters as his fingers go to the clasp around his throat, “how do they ever get anything done?”

Well…they don’t. Not really.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves being the one to tug and twist them into the right answer, but he doesn’t want to be there all the time. They do know what they’re doing, they’re all good at their jobs, so…trying to manage all of that is exhausting.

The clasp at his throat falls away and he lifts his hand, craning his neck above his collar. There.

He knows the thread isn’t real; nothing here is real. Nothing of him can ever be real. But he can still feel it sometimes. Like today.

They’d been…talking. It wasn’t an overdue conversation, not in the slightest, and he’s had to be honest with them. Doesn’t mean he has to be honest with himself.

And isn’t that just his saving grace?

Janus winces as he feels the thread wind tighter and tighter around his tongue, pulling his gloves off to touch his throat, just to confirm that it’s not real. His fingers meet his scales and he sighs, missing the sweetness. It won’t be for long. This will blow over and tomorrow they’ll be back to everyone’s favorite regularly scheduled programming. He’ll make Patton blink in that adorably-confused way, Logan will be pinching the bridge of his nose trying to make everyone shut up and pay attention to Janus’s lies, Virgil will be hissing at him like a demented cat, Remus will be having the time of his life, and Roman won’t want anything to do with him.

Janus breathes a sigh of relief as sweetness starts to coat his tongue again.

See? It’s already working.

It doesn’t keep working, but you know.

The effort was there.

They’re talking again.

The living room feels dry. Has it always been this dry? Disguising it as a roll of his eyes, Janus tilts his head toward the ceiling. Huh. He’s never noticed that light there before. Has it always been there? Probably.

“Janus,” Patton calls, “can you—um—“

Rolling his eyes again, he looks back down, crossing one leg over the other. He hides the lack of sweetness by pursing his lips.

“Yes?”

“Did you hear what I asked?”

“Of course I did,” he drawls, idly flicking the tips of his gloves together.

“…so what do you think?”

Honestly.

“He didn’t hear you,” Logan says quietly, and thank god the other brain cell has joined the chat.

Patton frowns. “Then why—never mind.”

Oh, Patton.

“I asked if you knew how to help,” Patton says, his hands clutched in his lap, “with the barrier breaking down. It’s been kind of rough from our side so…”

Right.

There hadn’t been a barrier up until a few years ago. Something had formed in the Mindscape, an invisible wall. It wasn’t real, of course, but it made walking through the hallways unnecessarily difficult. One of them would try to walk from one side to the other and be suddenly seized with a compulsion to do anything but. Or they’d be accompanying another Side back to the room only to freeze in the middle of the corridor and have to mutter out apologies. It’s exhausting. Luckily they’d still been able to sink in and out to get from place to place, but it’s not like the barrier actually does anything.

Janus sighs and uncrosses his legs. The thread leaps to the tip of his tongue, eager, poised.

“I don’t know,” he says instead, feeling the sweetness recede in disappointment, “I don’t know enough about how it formed in the first place.”

“It happened around the time of the series premiering,” Logan says thoughtfully, “perhaps it could be linked with the presentation of the Mindscape in the fanbase?”

Virgil snorts. “Like any of that is accurate.”

“You don’t know that, Virgil.”

“Um, excuse me, which of us spends the most time on Tumblr?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Where do you think most of the fanbase hangs out? ‘Cause it sure as hell ain’t Facebook.”

“That’s a shame,” Patton sighs, “I miss it.”

“You miss Facebook?”

“You know it does still exist, right?”

“Did Thomas ever even have Facebook?”

“The color palettes were nice!”

“You mean they were blue.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“…the point being I know a lot about what the fans do with the content we give them and most of that stuff is entirely made-up.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “As opposed to the made-up that the series is.”

“Shut up, L.”

“I’d rather not, actually.”

Virgil swats Logan’s shoulder half-heartedly.

Janus is smiling. Why is he smiling? He hasn’t lied enough for the sweetness to make him smile and it’s not like Remus has appeared with feet coming out of his head again. In fact, Remus is just…sitting next to Roman. Granted, he’s got his morning star in his lap dripping with god knows what, but there are no crazy shenanigans happening.

He watches Logan reach out and tangle his fingers with Virgil’s as Patton starts talking again. He watches Virgil nudge Remus’s tape back over to him when he drops it halfway through rewrapping the grip on his morning star. He watches Roman cover a flinch that he’d never have noticed if he wasn’t paying attention and sees Remus take hold of Roman’s costume and grip it tight in his fist.

The thread twitches angrily on his tongue as he tries to make sense of what’s happening.

“Has anything happened,” Roman asks as Patton pauses, “on your side?”

Virgil shrugs. “I haven’t noticed anything. But I normally sink straight to my room, so…”

“Remus?”

“You do realize that most of the thoughts that come into my head are the type that you guys would ignore anyway, right?”

Roman rolls his eyes too, but it’s fond. Affectionate. Janus is not.

“…Janus? What about you?”

The thread begins to sew neat little words into his tongue, all prepared for him to say. Yes, he’s noticed something, he’s noticed that the others are so much less fun than they used to be. No, he hasn’t noticed anything, it’s not like he’s the observant one.

Yes, he’s noticed that the barrier is fading and he hates it.

No, he hasn’t noticed anything because he spends as little time with the others as possible.

“I don’t know.”

Patton nods. “That’s okay, just…maybe try keeping an eye out? See if anything changes?”

“I will.”

The thread takes longer to undo that night.

Janus slumps onto his elbows and groans.

When did he become addicted to the sweetness? When did it get so hard for him to realize when he’s the one telling the lies and when the thread is telling the lies? When did he stop caring about the words coming out of his mouth?

The truth is, of course, that he didn’t.

He started caring more about the others.

The thread tightens in warning but Janus pushes it aside. He frowns, staring hard at the grooves in the desk. He started to care about them, not just as parts of Thomas’s personality that would help him do things, but as their own Sides. As them.

He cares about how Logan’s eyes light up just a little when he starts talking about something. He cares about how warm Patton speaks when they’re all there. He cares about how bouncy Remus gets when they talk to him. He cares about when Virgil’s eyeshadow turns all purple and sparkly. He cares about how hard it’s become to genuinely make Roman smile.

The thread groans.

Janus curses.

He can’t.

“The others aren’t important,” he hisses at the mirror, “Thomas is the only important one.”

The thread pauses.

“I don’t care what they want,” he continues, feeling it slowly start to unwind, “it only matters that Thomas is safe. That Thomas knows what’s going on.”

It starts to run back out along his tongue.

“Their thoughts and feelings aren’t important.” His hands ball into fists. “I don’t care about them.”

His tongue starts to taste sweet again.

“I don’t care about them,” he repeats in a whisper, “they aren’t important to me.”

The salt of the tears goes perfectly with the sweetness on his tongue.

————————————————

Something is wrong.

Something is horribly, desperately wrong and the others are panicking.

The barrier is gone. That’s not the bad thing. The bad thing is that along with it, everything in the Mindscape is rushing out of control.

The walls won’t hold. The doors lock and unlock more often than they stay in place. Floors disappear out of nowhere and open up into yawning black pits. The doors to the Imagination buckle and groan under the onslaught of rushing beasts from the other side. Something is fading.

They can’t sink out anymore. They need to know where everything is in order to do that. The place is a labyrinth. Only one entrance, one exit. There’s no way that they’ll know the right path unless they run it themselves.

Janus knows something is broken the instant his eyes open. He can feel it. Cracks wind their way through the walls, through the floor, the ceiling shakes. He’s out of his room in an instant, running through the halls, somewhere, anywhere, are they alright? Where are they? Have they faded?

“Virgil!”

“Janus?” Virgil flies into him at breakneck speed, clutching his cape in both hands. “Are you—what’s happening? Where is everyone? Did something go wrong? What’s happening to Thomas?”

The thread perks its end up eagerly but Janus swallows it down.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” he says quickly, pulling Virgil closer, “and you’re the first one I’ve seen.”

“I can’t find anyone,” Virgil pants, “I can’t—there’s no one—we’re going to fade.”

“We won’t, I promise. We just have to find the others.”

“Hello?” Another voice calls out from around the corner. “Hello, where the fuck is everyone? Who decided to break shit without me?”

“Remus!”

“That’s me, where the fuck—“ Remus barrels around the corner, almost knocking them over— “Virgil! Snake Face!”

“Remus—“ Virgil wraps Remus in his arms, clutching him tightly. “Where were you? What’s going on?”

“I was draining the viscera from a partially dissected sperm whale—“ of course he was— “but then everything started shaking.”

“We can’t find the others.”

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?”

They don’t even look back; Remus grabs Janus’s sleeve and Virgil still hasn’t let go of his cape, dragging him behind as they race through the halls. They can see where the barrier used to be, though with how much the place has shifted, it’s impossible to tell. Janus grits his teeth as they prepare themselves to smash through.

Nothing happens.

They just keep barreling down the corridor.

“Patton! Logan! Roman!”

“Where the fuck are you guys?”

“Can you hear us?”

“Re? Re, is that you?”

“Ro!”

Remus reroutes them effortlessly, barreling through chunks of disappearing floor and leaping over cracks forming in the tiles. Virgil hangs onto Janus as they go. Janus can’t let go of either of them.

“In here!”

A blade flashes through a crumbling chunk of wall and a hand reaches out. Remus grabs it and vaults through the opening.

“Oh my goodness, Virgil!”

“Pat—“

Another hand helps to haul him through the crack. The hand he has in his cape pulls uncomfortably at Janus’s neck.

“Where’s Janus? Did you guys see him?”

“Yeah, he’s right here, Ja—“

“Snake Face, get your butt in here.”

“Don’t just stand there, help you idiots!”

A sickening crack right above him makes him jerk his head up. His eyes widen as a massive chunk of ceiling starts to fall. Hands wrap around his arms, his clothes, even his waist and pull.

“Janus?” He blinks through the dust to see Logan staring at him, concern written plainly all over his face. “Are you alright?”

No, the thread sews, I am now trapped with the five people I abhor most in this world. I am the furthest from alright I could possibly be.

“Are you all alright,” he asks instead, lifting his hand to fix Logan’s collar, “I’m not hurt.”

“We’re fine,” Roman says, helping him to his feet, “we managed to get in here before the place really started coming down.”

“What’s going on?”

Patton’s shoulders slump at Virgil’s question. “We were hoping you would know.”

Janus bites back a curse, turning to look at the opening. It’s blocked now, completely choked in dust. He glances around.

“Where are we?”

“Safe room,” Roman says, tapping the wall, “something Remy helped us come up with.”

“Remy?”

“He’s a bitch but he knows what he’s doing.”

“Fair enough.” Janus grits his teeth. “So what do we know?”

“Who was awake when it happened,” Logan asks, “Roman and I were not.”

“I was also not awake,” Virgil mutters, “and I would really appreciate this not being how I wake up ever again.”

“I agree.” Janus glances at Patton and Remus. “I was asleep too. Remus, you said you were awake?”

“I was in the middle of an experiment!”

Logan perks up. “An experiment?”

“As much as I love watching you two be nerds together,” Roman breaks in, “can we do that later?”

“Of course.”

“Spoilsport,” Remus says fondly, “but it wasn’t me. I’ve done this experiment before, nothing I do could do…this.”

All eyes turn to Patton.

“…Padre?”

Patton shakes his head. “I…I don’t know. I had just gotten up to get a glass of water when it shattered in my hand.”

“It did what?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Let me see.”

“No, no, guys I’m fine,” Patton says quickly, holding up his hands, “but then the whole house started to shake. I don’t—I don’t know what’s going on.”

Janus’s heart sinks. He’s telling the truth.

They’re stuck.

“Oh, god,” Virgil mutters, his hands flying to his head, “oh god, oh my god, no one knows what’s going on.”

“V,” Logan murmurs, crouching down and reaching to take his hands, “Virgil, look at me.”

“We’re going to mess everything up—it’s going to be so bad—what’s happing to Thomas?”

“Virgil, look at me, come now, it’s going to be alright—“

“How can you promise that?” Virgil’s voice starts to rise. “Have you seen what’s happening?”

“Easy, shadow-ling,” Roman murmurs too, his hand carding through Virgil’s hair, “just listen to Logan.”

“You’re doing well,” Logan encourages, rubbing Virgil’s arms, “just stay here, with me, alright?”

Janus watches Patton and Remus stand a little closer to the three of them, shielding them from the debris still raining down from outside. Something in his gut clenches.

Then he notices the tremors are slowing as the other calm Virgil down.

And it clenches more.

“It’s us,” he mutters quietly, almost too quietly for the others to hear, “it’s us. We have to stick together.”

The thread on his tongue twitches angrily. There’s almost no sweetness left in his mouth now.

Patton looks over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Look—“ Janus points at a crack in the wall— “they’re moving slower now. The closer we are together the less this place falls apart.”

Virgil’s next inhale is almost a sob.

“I really do just ruin everything, don’t I?”

“No,” Roman says firmly, wrapping his arms tightly around the shaking Side, “we’ve had this conversation, shadow-ling. You’re important to us. You’re not a burden. And this certainly isn’t your fault.”

“We need you,” Patton echoes, reaching down to rest his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, “don’t go anywhere.”

“Don’t make us chase you.” Remus bonks his head into Virgil’s. “Not fun.”

Virgil still looks doubtful. Which, alright, isn’t his fault. Voices in the head, not to mention the general anxiety, it’s no surprise, not really. Janus clears his throat.

“Virgil,” he says softly, crouching down as well, “Virgil, listen to me.”

Purple eyes stare at him.

“You haven’t lost us,” he promises, “you won’t lose us. You’re important, not just for Thomas, but for us too. We care about you. All of you.”

“Fuck, J,” Virgil huffs, swiping at his face, “why’d you have to make me cry?”

The tremors keep settling.

Patton throws his arms around Virgil. “See? We care about you, kiddo. We love you.”

Something else twitches in Janus’s throat as he hears Patton say that. Virgil must notice it too; he looks up and squints at Patton.

“Have we ever told you that we care about you?”

Bingo.

Patton falters, his grip wavering. His smile wobbles. “W-well, no, not really, but that’s okay! I know you do.”

Logan tilts his head. “But you enjoy hearing it said.”

The smile slips even further. “…you don’t like saying it.”

“That’s no excuse!” Roman reaches over Virgil to get to Patton. “If you want us to say it, we can say it!”

Janus shifts his attention. “Patton?”

“…yeah?”

“No one takes care of us like you do,” he says softly, “and none of us care as openly as you do.”

Patton’s eyes widen. “Janus—“

“You try,” he continues, not to be interrupted, not now, “and that is perhaps the most admirable thing we could ask for.”

“He made Pat cry too,” Virgil mutters, pulling the now-sobbing side in for a hug.

“Happy tears,” Patton manages, “I—wow.”

A crack in the wall disappears.

“Is that what this is?” Logan looks around. “An…emotional problem?”

“We’re fading, the whole Mindscape is,” Janus says around the thread, “if we—if we stay, then we can fix this.”

“O-oh.”

That tone of voice always leads somewhere good. Sure enough, as he looks around, he sees Logan adjust his glasses and take a step back.

“And where are you going?”

“I’m not sure I can help,” Logan says flatly. “You have the answer already.”

“But we’re not done.”

“And what do you expect I can lend to this problem?” He spreads his arms wide. “I’m no expert on emotions, nor am I useful in proving things that are already true.”

“Wait, what the fuck are you talking about, L?” Virgil scrambles up. “What are we proving here?”

“That you are important.” Logan frowns as Patton and Roman scramble up too. “What?”

“You’re implying that you’re not important,” Remus growls, “and I’m pissed about it.”

“But—“

“No buts!” Roman points a stern finger at him. “Believing yourself to be unimportant is a falsehood!”

“I never said I was unimportant,” Logan corrects, “I said I would not be helpful in this situation.”

“Bullshit. You helped me calm down.”

“So did Patton and Roman.”

“You figured out that I like being told that you guys care about me!”

“That was obvious.”

“Logan,” Janus calls softly to get his attention, “Logan, if you believe that anyone knows us better than you, you are gravely mistaken.”

Logan’s mouth drops open.

“You claim not to know emotions,” he continues, stepping closer, “but you know us, perhaps better than we know ourselves at times. You are kind, you are wonderful, and if you ever stop teaching us things, I am sure we would never recover.”

He slips Logan’s glasses back into position.

“You are not just Logic,” he murmurs, “you’re Logan. Stay. Be Logan.”

Logan swallows heavily.

“I must ask,” he says hoarsely as a tear rolls down his cheek, “if you intend to make everyone cry today.”

Janus chuckles. “No, I don’t, but it seems that it may be a side effect. I promise I’m not trying.”

“You won’t make me cry,” Remus remarks casually, “not without trying. I don’t care.”

Oh, Remus. Janus doesn’t bother to hide his smile at the indignant squawk from Virgil as Remus implies that he doesn’t care about the others.

“I don’t need to try to make you cry,” he says, “I’ve never wanted that. I just want you to be listened to.”

“…fuck you, Snakey.”

Patton lunges forward as Remus sniffles.

“Do we just like…not talk to each other, then?” Virgil wipes his nose. “Because I sure as hell don’t remember us getting this emotional about anything.”

Then Janus realizes that his mouth tastes bitter.

The thread has not been idle, he realizes in horror, not while he’s been spilling his guts to the others in an effort to hold them all together. It’s dragged itself over his tongue, scraping every last bit down his throat, winding tighter and tighter. His mouth tastes bitter. It’s not supposed to be bitter. It burns, scraping along the sides of his mouth until they smart. He swallows frantically. It’s not working. Nothing is working. It hurts. His tongue hurts. His throat hurts.

The floor wobbles.

He can’t catch his breath.

His eyes land on Roman.

No.

No, no, no, he can’t stop now.

Not here.

Not with Roman.

Roman just watches the others wrap their arms tightly around his brother still wiping snot from his nose. A soft smile curls at his mouth that never reaches his eyes. Behind him, massive cracks open up in the walls.

No.

He can’t let Roman fall.

Not after everything.

Roman notices he’s staring at him. He just raises an eyebrow.

“Going to make me cry again,” he asks softly, “or are you all finished for the day?”

The thread stabs words into his tongue until he can taste blood.

Well, it’s not like it’s difficult to make you cry.

If I had something that would work, I’d say it.

Only if you were a Side worth worrying about.

No.

No, no, he won’t say that. He won’t.

The thread tightens around his throat as a harsher warning. The bitterness on his tongue worsens.

“It’s alright, Janus—“ no, it isn’t— “I know you don’t like me much anyway. Don’t force yourself.”

At least you’re being considerate for once in your life.

Took you this long to figure it out, hmm? No wonder you’re called the stupidest Side.

Janus grits his teeth against the thread. It just keeps tightening. His mouth has never tasted sweet in his entire life.

He needs to tell Roman how important he is. He needs to tell Roman that they all have to start paying attention to him. He needs Roman to know that he’s sorry, sorry he ever implied otherwise.

All that comes out of his mouth instead is: “you need attention.”

Roman blinks. “Well, yes, I’d say that’s true.”

He has to tell Roman that Thomas needs him, needs him to be strong and healthy, to dream.

What comes out instead is: “you spend so much time stuck in your head.”

Roman frowns. “If that’s the best you can do, there’s no need to overexert yourself. I can make myself cry much easier than that.”

Why won’t his tongue cooperate?

The thread just tightens around him again. A warning. A threat. A promise.

He can’t tell the truth.

He can’t.

It doesn’t matter. Roman won’t know how important he is. He’ll think that Janus hates him and that’s fine.

Janus struggles to breathe.

“There are two Creativities,” he grits out, even if the ‘but only one Roman’ won’t follow.

“Patton is the heart,” comes out next, separate from ‘but he needs you to love.’

“We don’t need you,” hurts on the way out because it leaves behind ‘but we want you, we want you so badly.’

The Mindscape is crumbling. Janus can’t speak. The others are going to fade. He can’t help Roman. He’s ruined everything.

He’s forgotten what sweetness tastes like.

Roman is frowning at him. He stands, striding across the broken floor, eyes flint chips. Janus closes his eyes and braces for the hit.

Roman’s fingers hook into his collar and yank.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Why is it cutting into him?”

“How long has that been there, this whole time?”

“Janus—Janus can you breathe?”

What?

Janus opens his eyes in confusion. Roman’s still holding onto him but his eyes are fixed not on his face, but lower. Something shiny casts light onto Roman’s face.

“Janus,” Roman asks softly, “what is this?”

“What is what?”

“This,” Roman says darkly, fingertips tracing across something, “around your neck.”

No.

No, it’s not real.

It can’t be real.

…can it?

“It’s not a thread,” Janus spits out, his tongue smarting in the air, “and it doesn’t keep me from telling the truth.”

Roman’s eyes widen in horror. He reaches forward and Janus keens as the pressure tightens.

“Don’t stop,” he grits out, “it doesn’t hurt.”

“The sky is green.”

“What?”

“The sky is green,” Roman repeats, still glaring hard at Janus’s neck, “the Fourth of July is in October.”

The thread loosens.

“Remus, get over here,” Roman barks. A second later, two more fingers slip under the thread. “Now lie.”

“Um, ventricles are found in the liver.”

“Blue is made of red and orange.”

“The alphabet starts with the letter ‘m.’”

Logan catches on next. “The sun goes around the earth,” he says, nudging Virgil.

“Uh—“ he glances around— “Patton isn’t wearing glasses.”

“Paris is in Canada.”

“Books are printed on alligator skin.”

“Water isn’t clear.”

“Mark Zuckerberg isn’t the inventor of Facebook.”

“Earmuffs go on your hands.”

“Hamburgers are vegan.”

Lies spin out of their mouths. Remus grits his teeth as he pulls at the thread. Patton looks around frantically. Janus still can’t breathe.

The room is settling, slowly but surely, but there are still cracks snaking their way through the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Right under Janus.

Roman looks directly at him.

“I hate you.”

The thread gives.

The brothers yank, unspooling the thread from around Janus’s throat, throwing it at the walls. It freezes in mid-air, still glowing gold.

The cracks weren’t cracks, they were threads.

The golden thread melts seamlessly into the wall, knitting the place back together, stitch by stitch. The walls settle, glowing softly as the floor reconstitutes under them. The Mindscape breathes.

Janus hasn’t noticed any of this. He’s too busy collapsing into Roman’s arms, sobbing his heart out.

“Shh, shh, sweetheart,” Roman coos, “I’ve got you, you’re alright, you did it, come here…”

“He’s gonna be cold,” he hears someone—probably Virgil?—say over his shoulder, “grab a blanket. Can we sink?”

“Let me try.” A second later there’s another sigh of relief. “Yeah. We can. Let’s get him to the living room, I’ll get a fire going.”

“In the fireplace, this time, Remus!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

“Come on, little snake,” Roman coaxes, lifting him up to a broad chest, “let’s get you warm.”

He’s still sobbing breathlessly, draped uselessly over Roman. He feels another set of arms as they sink into the couch.

“I’ve got him,” Patton says quietly, “hey, kiddo, can you hear me?”

The next sob is slightly higher.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, kiddo, you don’t have to speak right now.” Patton rubs soothing circles into his back. “Just stay right here with me, right here, the others are just getting the nest set up.”

N-nest?

“Give him to me, I’ll help him down while you slide in.”

“Make sure to get his head, he’s having trouble right now.”

“I understand.”

A warm hand cups the back of his neck, leaning his nose into the crook of a warm shoulder. Books, coffee, whiteboard pen…Logan.

“You’re freezing,” Logan murmurs, concerned, “let’s get you warmed up…no hyperthermia today, hmm?”

Janus almost groans in relief as his scales hit something thick and soft and warm. He’s still crying, isn’t he? Why?

“Hey, Snakey,” Remus mumbles, his hand under Janus’s head, “you gotta roll over, you’re gonna crush yourself that way. Come on—for crying out loud, you bastards, how long does it take to undo a clasp?”

“Got it.”

He suppresses a whine as his cape flies away, only for it quickly be replaced by a warm, warm blanket. He blinks his eyes open, straining to see through the tears. He can only see blobs. What is happening?

“Rest,” comes another voice, is that Roman? Isn’t Roman angry at him? He can’t stop the confused whine.

“Shh, shh, easy, little snake,” Roman soothes, running his hand through his hair, “breathe, that horrible thing was choking you.”

The horrible thread…is it…gone?

“Relax, come on, shh…easy,” he says earnestly when Janus whines again, “don’t work yourself up.”

“He’s gonna hurt himself if he keeps clawing at his throat like that.”

He’s doing what now?

Warm hands take each of his and…oh. Well, maybe he was.

“That’s it,” Patton whispers, “easy…”

“What…what’s going on?”

“You did it,” Logan says softly, stroking his thumb along the back of Janus’s hand, “you figured it out.”

“But—“ he swallows, still not used to the freedom in his throat— “I couldn’t do it.”

“You weren’t supposed to do it on your own, Jan-Jan. We all had to do it, remember?”

“That’s what you said, J.”

“So we did,” Patton finishes, smiling at him, “and it worked.”

“But—but I—“ Janus’s eyes flash up to catch Roman’s.

Roman, who sat there and didn’t protest when Janus couldn’t say one nice thing about him.

Roman, whom Janus has hurt so many times.

Roman, who pried the thread away from Janus’s throat without blinking.

Roman, who caught him, and is still here.

“Maybe the next time we talk,” Roman says softly, “we can do it without that thread around your throat, hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Shh, little snake,” he murmurs, gently stroking a tear away from Janus’s cheek, “I know. But not right now, okay? You’re still crying.”

He is?

Oh.

“Close your eyes,” he encourages, his hand still cupping Janus’s face, “rest, we all need it.”

“Did we—“ his tongue is heavy— “did we ever figure out what happened?”

“I believe Thomas had something of an identity crisis,” Logan remarks, “but we can figure that out later. For now…we should all try and go back to sleep.”

“Great. Pop Star, budge.”

“Hey! Kiddo!”

“Ah. Much better.”

“Pocket Protector, stop pretending you don’t wanna cuddle and get down here.”

“In a moment, Remus, I need to take my glasses off.”

“Ro-Bro! Get over here.”

“Re, pulling me over Janus is not going to work.”

“L, are you coming?”

“Must you all be so impatient?”

“Yes, my dear darling nerd, now come here.”

Logan rolls his eyes and lies down, still holding Janus’s hand. On his other side, Roman leans Janus’s head into his chest and hums softly.

“There. Now we’re all together again.”

“Shut the fuck up, Princey, I’m trying to sleep.”

“Shut up yourself, then.”

“Kiddos.”

“Sorry, Pat.”

Logan chuckles. Remus shifts on the edge of the blanket nest. Roman tilts Janus’s chin up.

“Are you alright,” he whispers as the others drift off to sleep, “not hurt?”

Janus shakes his head. “I…was it really a lie?”

“Was what really a lie, little snake?”

“…you said ‘I hate you.’”

“Oh, that.” Roman chucks him lightly under the chin. “What does your mouth taste like?”

…sweet.

It’s sweet.

Oh.

Roman smiles. “Go to sleep, little snake.”

The Sides fall asleep in the Mindscape, threads wearing them tightly together.

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eusuntgratie · 2 years

Note

Trope bingo! They built a wall of pillows between them but ended up spooning anyway for sterek 😁

( read on ao3 )

“Derek?”

Stiles follows him into the dingy, dark hotel room.

“Derek. There’s only one bed in this room.”

He doesn’t say anything, just heads straight into the bathroom and slams the door.

Stiles bites down a snarky retort. He knows today was rough on Derek. He’d tried to get him to talk about it, but Derek had remained stubbornly silent. Stiles has spent enough time with him now to know that it will be more productive to wait him out. To give him a minute to sort through his thoughts instead of pestering him to talk before he’s ready.

He still looks drawn when he emerges from the bathroom. He doesn’t have to say anything for Stiles to know he’s haunted by images of the fire, that his memories are getting muddled with their confrontation with the hellhound. He doesn’t look at Stiles, not really, but he glances at the bed and then in Stiles’ general direction.

“You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor. This was the only room they had left.”

“It’s fine, Derek. It’s a king. We’ll both fit.”

He huffs, jaw tight, as he tries to push down all of his fear and all of his emotions and all of his everything to be the kind of man, the kind of alpha his shitty life has made him think he has to be.

“Look. It was a shit day. We’re both exhausted. It’s fine.”

Derek looks pained, so Stiles tries again. He can’t let him sleep on the fucking floor.

“I’ll make a pillow wall. Luckily they gave us a thousand pillows.” He flips the covers down and makes a line of pillows down the middle of the bed. “See? It’s like two tiny beds right next to each other. You can be comfortable and I don’t have to feel like an asshole. Win-win.”

Derek just grunts and climbs into the bed. Flips over and stares at the wall. Stiles sighs and heads into the bathroom to scrub away all the dirt and grime and the smell of smoke and ash from his skin.

When he gets out, Derek is still staring resolutely at the wall, body tense. Stiles crawls into his side and turns out the light. Tries to keep himself from flopping around. Hopes the darkness helps Derek settle enough to sleep.

After a few minutes of quiet, he can’t help it, he has to say something.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into the dark.

“For what?”

“Saving me. Again.”

Derek huffs.

“I- I didn’t want you to have to get near him. I- I know that the smell and the- I’m sorry, Derek. I’ll come up with a better plan next time.”

“It’s not your job-”

“None of this is your job either. We’re a team. All of us. We can keep you safe too. I can. I don’t- I know that he burned you. I didn’t- I-”

“It’s already healed, Stiles.”

“Well next time there’s a fucking hellhound I’ll figure out a way to keep you away from it. You shouldn’t have to deal with- with that. Not on top of everything else.”

Derek breathes out, slow, like he’s trying to keep his emotions in check.

“Thank you. For thinking of that. I’m-it’s fine. But thank you.”

They lapse into quiet, and Stiles’ thoughts spin. He wonders if Derek smells fire when he thinks of his family, the way Stiles smells the hospital when he thinks of his mom.

Stiles dreams of fire, hospital rooms, alpha red eyes, and the look of fear on his mom’s face from the end, when she thought he was trying to kill her.

He wakes up warm, and when he blinks his eyes open, he realizes Derek is wrapped around him.

He lifts his head, probably noticed the subtle change in Stiles’ breathing pattern, and starts to pull away.

“Sorry, I- you were- you had a nightmare, I think.”

Something about Derek pressed up against him like this makes him feel safe, like everything will be alright. Maybe he can give that to Derek too.

Derek pulls away but Stiles follows him, keeps them tangled together.

“Don’t- stay, I mean. I did have a nightmare. Did you?”

“Yeah. The fire.”

Stiles squeezes his arm. “Did it, um, did it stop when-?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. So just, stay. Yeah?”

“Okay.”

Stiles shifts until he feels like he’s holding Derek as much as he’s holding him.

“Go back to sleep, Derek.”

“Okay.”

He squeezes him tighter, and Stiles listens to his breath moving in and out, in and out, until he drifts off to sleep. He dreams of green-gold eyes, and a tiny smile that can’t quite be hidden, and he feels safe and relaxed and at peace. He’s not sure if Derek nosing at his hair, breathing him in, happens in his dream or here in the hotel room, but either way he hopes it helps.

“Derek?”

Stiles follows him into the dingy, dark hotel room.

“Derek. There’s only one bed in this room.”

He doesn’t say anything, just heads straight into the bathroom and slams the door.

“You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor. This was the only room they had left.”

“It’s fine, Derek. It’s a king. We’ll both fit.”

“Look. It was a shit day. We’re both exhausted. It’s fine.”

Derek looks pained, so Stiles tries again. He can’t let him sleep on the fucking floor.

After a few minutes of quiet, he can’t help it, he has to say something.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into the dark.

“For what?”

“Saving me. Again.”

Derek huffs.

“I- I didn’t want you to have to get near him. I- I know that the smell and the- I’m sorry, Derek. I’ll come up with a better plan next time.”

“It’s not your job-”

“None of this is your job either. We’re a team. All of us. We can keep you safe too. I can. I don’t- I know that he burned you. I didn’t- I-”

“It’s already healed, Stiles.”

“Well next time there’s a fucking hellhound I’ll figure out a way to keep you away from it. You shouldn’t have to deal with- with that. Not on top of everything else.”

Derek breathes out, slow, like he’s trying to keep his emotions in check.

“Thank you. For thinking of that. I’m-it’s fine. But thank you.”

They lapse into quiet, and Stiles’ thoughts spin. He wonders if Derek smells fire when he thinks of his family, the way Stiles smells the hospital when he thinks of his mom.

Stiles dreams of fire, hospital rooms, alpha red eyes, and the look of fear on his mom’s face from the end, when she thought he was trying to kill her.

He wakes up warm, and when he blinks his eyes open, he realizes Derek is wrapped around him.

He lifts his head, probably noticed the subtle change in Stiles’ breathing pattern, and starts to pull away.

“Sorry, I- you were- you had a nightmare, I think.”

Something about Derek pressed up against him like this makes him feel safe, like everything will be alright. Maybe he can give that to Derek too.

Derek pulls away but Stiles follows him, keeps them tangled together.

“Don’t- stay, I mean. I did have a nightmare. Did you?”

“Yeah. The fire.”

Stiles squeezes his arm. “Did it, um, did it stop when-?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. So just, stay. Yeah?”

“Okay.”

Stiles shifts until he feels like he’s holding Derek as much as he’s holding him.

“Go back to sleep, Derek.”

“Okay.”

#sterek #grace writes #only one bed prompts #sterek fic #lostcol

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xenospacebabe · 3 years

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Broken Wings

Hawks drabble

A/N: So I imagine for some reason that regular doctors and surgeons are capable of treating Hawks to a fault. But when it comes to his wings, they’re a bit...lost?

Summary: After coping with treating injuries to his wings by himself, Hawks finds himself with a more serious injury than he can handle. He can’t open his wings, or fly. The pain is mind numbing. He finds himself breaking into an animal clinic for some help.

Warning: Broken bones. Mild language

HawksxReader

7am. The doors don’t open until 8:30, but you still had things to do from yesterday that weren’t even started. Clutching your steel tumblr full of coffee that’ll barely scratch the surface of your exhaustion, you stifled a yawn and crawled out of your car. Barely remembering to lock it. You always parked on the side of the building so as not to take up any spaces in front. The key missed the lock a few times before eventually sliding inside and turning to the side.

The moment you turned on the lights, a couple of dogs in the back already started barking, hungry for breakfast and ready to go home. Your veterinary clinic was modest in size, but it was always busy. It was your father’s practice before he retired and passed it down to you after finishing school. Now it was all yours. It was hard work, but your clients were loyal. Many of them have been around since the place opened almost 30 years ago. You were the vet that people would recommend to their friends who needed help and had struggles affording it. Your clinic was the one that everyone knew cared the most about patients rather than money. And it showed. While your profits were great, it wasn’t what you were concerned the most about.

After setting down your things in your office, you tied back your hair into a high ponytail and took a long drink of your “breakfast.” You looked at the white board on your wall, deciding which surgery from yesterday to start on first. Picking the cat spay, you headed towards the back to get started. Passing surgery and into the kennels, you found your patient and greeted her with a sweet voice and scratches on her cheeks.

“Good morning, Sadie. You ready, sweet girl? C’mon.” The cat whined tiredly as you scooped her into your arms to bring into the surgical room. But when you lifted your head and looked inside you screamed. Unfortunately, this spooked your cat and she bolted out of your arms to hide under the kennels.

“AH SHIT! Sadie! Sadie c’mere girl! Who are you?!” There sitting on your operating counter was a man. A shirtless man with enormous wings that nearly filled the small room. He was covered in decently serious lacerations and wounds that made the surface of his skin look like a blue, black, green, and purple water color canvas. He looked terrible with deep bags under his eyes. However, he looked at you through messy strands of hair that hung in his face with a tired but smug expression.

“Really? You don’t know who I am?” He said, his voice croaking out with a subtle groan of pain. Your eyes shifted from his, those golden pools that shined like the sun, to the massive crimson wings. They, too, looked to be in disarray. Feathers stuck out in random places, others crumpled, many painted in blood. However his left hung in a slightly abnormal manner.

“I’m sorry. You shocked me all of a sudden. You’re Hawks right? What are you doing here? How did you even get in? The doors were all locked.” As you finished your statement, a single red feather lifted in mid air and hovered, showing you its bent up quill. He picked the lock with the feather and locked it behind him.

“Sorry. I just-..mmgghh...I think it’s broken. And the clowns at the city hospital the commission would send me to aren’t capable of fixing it. I found you online, you do exotics, right? Birds and stuff?”

All the while he was explaining his situation, you were assessing his condition. The area that connected the wing to his back appeared incredibly swollen, and slightly out of place. Without thinking, you reached out to palpate the area causing him to immediately flinch and groan out loud.

“Sorry! Sorry. I’m used to my patients being-...well animals. But yes, I’m a small animal and exotics vet. There’s a couple birds I’ve been treating for a long time.” Now this time, as you were talking, Hawks had his eyes trained on you. He was listening to every word you spoke intently. “Some of them were my dad’s patients before he retired. Shows how old they can get.”

Hawks braced the cold steel of the table, crouching forward some. His skin seemed damp with sweat, the pain he was in must have been affecting his body temperature. You needed to act quickly if you were going to save his wing.

“Okay, so. I have to touch it. I need to get a couple xrays to see if we have any breaks and we’ll go from there. I don’t....all I have are sedatives for animals. Would that..?”

“It’s fine, ain’t no pain out there that I can’t handle.” He looked at you with a charming smirk, clearly flexing his pain threshold to impress you. Because he looked you up and down and liked what he saw. Even in those scrubs which were relatively form fitting but patterened in cartoon cats and dogs.

“I’m serious. This is really going to hurt. Are you-“

“I said I can handle it.” Hawks snapped, frustrated with the questions now. He just wanted the pain to stop. And besides, that cute look on your blushing face was too good to miss.

“Alright...well...first you need to help me find my cat that you scared off.”

“You mean this one?” Appearing in front of you held under the arms and the butt by a trio of feathers was your very angry, very sleepy cat. You sighed in relief and retrieved her into your arms. It took some settling to calm her down but you were a natural with all animals. It came so easily. She was comfortable in her kennel when you set her back inside and you felt your brain shift gears.

You first had to get your hands on the wing. Just to get a feel of what you were working with. You’d never seen such beautiful, red feathers before. Even though you saw parrots and other birds daily. These were just...breathtaking. But even the most beautiful wings didn’t stop the pain of broken bones. Hawks groaned behind tight lips when you gently palpated the swollen wing. Inside you felt the distinct break and slight crunchiness that accompanied it. The growling in his throat didn’t frighten you, after all, you dealt with aggressive animals day in and day out.

“Y-you almost finished there, Doc? Agghh...” He finally outwardly complained when you flexed his wing. Your hands were gentle but it was still nearly unbearable. Slowly and carefully, you folded his wing back down into its natural resting position.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I know it hurts. But thank you for holding still. Alright. Let’s do some xrays.”

After some struggling and repositioning, and many awkward brushes of hands and faces, you and Hawks were successful in taking some clear shots of what you determined was a broken wing. You didn’t notice his eyes on you as you explained it to him. The room was dark, illuminated only by the backlight box that made it possible to see the xray photos. But he was studying your face quite intently.

The space between your eyebrows crinkled a little when you would point to a specific spot on the xray in concentration. When you were quiet in thought, your tongue pressed against your cheek or you nibbled your bottom lip. The slope of your nose was accentuated by the pale shine of the light box to make it look like you had a cute button nose. Everything you were saying filled his ears but didn’t register as anything coherent. Eventually, you noticed.

“Hawks? Are you okay? Are you in pain?” Your voice brought him out of the trance he’d slipped into and he blinked rapidly to soothe his eyes. He hadn’t blinked once.

“Oh! Uh-...aheh...I’m fine. And please...call me Keigo.”

“Keigo?”

“Yeah, that’s my real name. Hawks is just my hero name. I can trust you, yeah?” He looked down at you with those eyes that you swore were glowing and swallowed harshly. Suddenly your throat was dry.

“R-right! I knew that. Keigo...so...like I said. The break is pretty clean. Luckily there’s no fragments or splinters that would make a problem.”

“So what can you do to fix me?” He lied, though, about being in pain. Broken bones were painful enough. But a broken bone that carried the heavy weight of his wing was absolutely agonizing. However, years of working as a pro hero conditioned him into hiding his pain from his enemies.

“Well, there isn’t a lot we can do. Other than immobilize the wing so the bone can heal back together.”

That got his attention.

“Immobilize? You mean I can’t-“

“Fly. Yeah. Not forever, but for a while. You’d have to come back every now and then for xrays so I can see how the healing is progressing. Given the size, I’d imagine...6 weeks?”

6 weeks? Of no flying? Hawks hadn’t spent that long out of the sky in so long that he wasn’t sure he remembered what it felt like to walk anywhere. You could see the panic in his eyes, beads of sweat formed on his neck and forehead. So you reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder to try and comfort him. He froze, not sure of what to do.

“Sorry! Sorry.” You quickly withdrew your hand. “That’s a habit. I always try to comfort the parents of my patients when they get difficult news.”

“No no, it’s-...you just surprised me.” He reached for your hand and returned it to his shoulder which was still bare. You hadn’t even realized he hadn’t redressed after finishing the radiographs. Your palm rested on his shoulder, his skin was warm to the touch. Your thumb gently stroked the end of his collarbone as you often did to support your clients. Beneath your fingers you felt the impressive muscle he had, in spite of appearing relatively lean, the muscle tone of his torso was quite defined. You imagined it had to be in order for him to fight villains and hold himself aloft while flying.

“I know it’s a difficult thing to hear. Your wings take you everywhere, I’m sure. But this won’t last forever, okay?” Something about your voice was so soothing to his fried nerves. But you’d never know because of how cool and composed he made himself appear.

“You don’t mind?” Hawks felt his anxiety dissolve when he thought about getting to see you next. It was a strange feeling, but he knew he could trust you. Those pretty eyes of yours really spoke volumes.

“Of course not. Now let’s get you taped up and on your way. I’m sure you’re exhausted, no doubt whatever broke your wing has you worn out.”

“Heh you can say that again.” There it was, his suave and too-cool demeanor. But you didn’t mind it. You were sure it was just a front he was used to keeping up. After all, you were just a civilian and he couldn’t afford to let anyone know just how weak he was.

You managed to tape and place Hawks’ wing in a makeshift splint. He refused any medication but you could tell by the way he white knuckled the table that he was in pain. A majority of the time, your patients were under anesthesia when setting broken bones. So you had to be careful this time about how heavy handed you were. By the time you were finished, you had less than 10 minutes to get him out the door before your techs and kennel attendants showed up for work.

“Come see me in a week. We’ll take more xrays and make any adjustments if you need them. Try to keep the splint dry, and rest. I mean it, Hawks.”

“Alright, Doc. I’ll be a good little bird just for you.” The winged hero winked at you as he slipped out the back door. You felt your heart leap into your throat and cheeks burn up as a result. Just as he disappeared, you heard the sounds of your employees coming in and quickly closed the door and composed yourself.

“Morning, Doc!” One of them said as you appeared in the exam area. You smiled and waved, reaching into the pocket of your white coat with your other hand. Something was in there. You looked inside and saw red. A feather. Unbeknownst to you, Hawks had slipped one of his feathers into your pocket. You couldn’t fathom why, but you felt a strange sense of comfort when you ran the tip of your finger along the center spine. It quivered when you did so.

“Ungh...” In an alley a block away, Hawks had to brace a brick wall with one hand. His insides trembled as he sensed you touching his feather. Even he didn’t know why he left one with you. But the thought of parting made him remarkably...sad?

“Get it together, Keigo...” He muttered to himself, shaking his head and continuing back home. It would be a long 6 weeks out of the sky, but at least he’d be able to see you.

A/N: This was longer than I anticipated omg. Does anyone think I should continue?

#winged hero hawks #hawks drabble #keigo takami #bnha keigo #hawks x reader #veterinary #writing #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero

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emmettdixonownsmyheart · 3 years

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Somebody said they wanted a fic :)

@herrera-n-hayes

Love is art (Tremmett)

What Travis does not expect to see when he gets home from a 24-hour shift is his kitchen that he cleaned yesterday covered in the rainbow. He stares at the the colors for a minute not quite sure yet if he’s annoyed. His eyes settle on Emmett. He’s asleep, snoring softly his head half on a used palate of paint. The bright greens a blues on the stove don’t stop him from pulling out his phone and snapping a picture.

He hears a door open somewhere and wonders if Vic or Theo is home but couldn’t care less in this moment. He wonders briefly what Emmett created on his lonely day off when he spies a box ties with a bright purple ribbon on the table. He knows he’s not supposed to open it but his kitchen looks like a day care so he does anyway. There’s a small envelope tied to the box and luckily it says

“Open” so he does. The paper is worn a small thumbprint of blue stains the sides. He looks closely and a few tears were shed when writing the letter. Small droplets litter the paper but do nothing to defer Travis interest.

2/21/2022

Dear Travis, Today isn’t a special day to you. For me today is the best day of my life. On this day exactly three years ago we met. You were drinking a martini by yourself in the corner of joes bar and I’d just gotten back from my last day of college. I saw you and couldn’t not say hi. I remember walking up to you with all the wrong intentions. I know now that you are amazing, brave and so beautiful. You looked up at me and looked puzzled but bought me a drink without question. We spent the talking about everything and we’ll...you know what happens next. Then just as we were happy I screwed up and honestly I still thank god every time I see your face because if I were you, I would have never given me a second chance but you did. You saved me Travis. I’ll always love you for that. I really don’t want there to be anyone else and I know it’s a lot but I do love you. I know now that is okay to love you. I do, with everything inside me and every bone in my body love you. I hope that’s not to much.

p.s. I just wanted an excuse to make you something cause you don’t like presents

-love always

emmett

It takes him a minute to stop crying but Travis finally wipes away the last tear and opens the box. His eyes flicker to Emmetts blue smudges lips and he just wants to kiss them. The painting is in his hands in a second and he doesn’t know what to say looking at it. It’s beautiful,colorful, heartwarming. There house sits in the middle the garage cars and driveway all painted perfectly. It looks like he took a picture and pasted it onto a canvas. He knows exactly why he made this for him. Emmett knows Travis is upset about moving. He’s finally leaving Michael behind and beginning a new life . Emmett knows Travis loves him even though it’s never been said. The painting is for Travis to have a piece of Michael in their home because unlike everybody else, Emmett knows how to share and doesn’t mind it. He really doesn’t want to wake Emmett up but knows they will talk in the morning. So instead of scrubbing the walls and being annoyed he leaves it be it’s beautiful anyways.

The tap water is warm and cloth soft in his hands. He adds a little soap before walking over and lifting Emmetts face of the pallet. He gently scrubs away all the blues, greens and yellows donning his facial features neck and chest before deeming him clean enough for bed. Emmett doesn’t stir when strong arms are slipped around his waist or when he’s tucked into familiar warm sheets with a kiss on his head. He must be physically and emotional drained for the day and he did it for Travis not himself. That’s why he can share because he knows Michael would’ve fallen in love with Emmett just like he has.

#travis montgomery #station 19 #lachlan buchanan #jay hayden #emmettdixon #tremmett

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Seven

Summary: Javier’s alright, but your anxiety over him hasn’t lessened.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: angst, lots of tears, I don’t know much about medical stuff so no guarantees on accuracy

A/N: Well, the angst isn’t quite over yet, but things are getting more into the hurt/comfort territory! Drugged-up Javi was actually really fun to write, and I hope you guys think so too!! Big thanks to @remmysbounty and @ilikechocolatemilkh for being my go-tos and helping me come up with some of this stuff!

there are no gifs of injured Javi or anything like that, so my apologies for the not-so-fitting gifs during the hospital chapters!!

previous chapter | next chapter

The surgery takes several hours, but it’s a success. Connie came in and checked on the surgery once or twice, but was more occupied with her husband’s injuries. Steve’s were minimal- a cut to the forehead required stitches, but everything else could be fixed by a bandage and a little time.

The shrapnel entered between two of Javier’s ribs, and just missed his liver. It was a deep wound, and required a lot of time in the OR to get him stabilized. The doctor and your fellow nurses took good care of him, and Lorena sat by your side the entire time. Her arm never left from around you, and you think you must’ve ruined her scrubs with the amount of breakdowns you had into her shoulder.

Once the surgery is finished, your beloved Javier all stitched up, the doctor wheels him to his room in the ICU, you and Lorena trailing behind her. Once he’s all settled, you sit in a chair next to his bed, clutching his hand.

“He won’t wake up for several hours, and even when he does, he won’t be himself for a couple more. Those pain meds they’ll give him are so strong he won’t be able to tell you his name. You should get some rest, hermana,” Lorena tells you, standing behind you and gently rubbing your hunched and tense shoulders.

“No. I want to be here when he wakes up, he needs to know he’s okay,” you sharply tell her and scoot away from her hands.

“Ana, I swear to god. At least nap here then.”

“No, Lorena.”

“He is going to be asleep for at least a few more hours. Rest.”

She’s right and you know it. Luckily, you don’t have to respond. In walks Connie and Steve, Connie breathing a sigh of relief when she sees Javier’s peacefully resting face. Her eyes water and she clings to Steve, who presses a kiss to his head. She can’t see it, but his eyes well with tears too, out of fear for his best friend.

The tears in their eyes renew yours, and you look at them, lower lip trembling. Steve waves you over with his free arm and pulls you to his chest. It’s no Javi hug, but it feels safe. He’s strong and protective and you squeeze him tight, sobbing into his chest. He waves Lorena over too and she scoots in, Steve’s large arms enveloping the three of you with ease. He feels like safety and it makes sense to you, suddenly, why Connie loves him so much: he feels like protection embodied. Like anything the world hurled at you could be fended off by him. You’ve rarely hugged Javier, maybe once since that girls night at the Murphys’, but he radiated that same energy, albeit in a different way. The two men might seem like polar opposites, but they’re very similar at heart: you know they’d both give their life for you.

This is the next best thing you could get to Javier’s arms right now, you think, and squeeze him tight. Connie and Steve have felt like parents to you sometimes, when you can’t reach your parents back home and need reassurance and find yourself calling their apartment, and Steve feels like a father in this moment, a protector. He murmurs to the three of you that it’s going to be okay, that Javier will be fine, and it makes you cry harder into his chest, but out of reassurance; you know it to be true this time, and Steve telling you it makes it even more real.

After a moment, he breaks away and you all sniffle awkwardly, scattering around the room and pretending to busy yourself: you blow your nose, Connie checks Javier’s charts, Steve sets some of Javi’s belongings on a countertop. You return to your bedside vigil, taking Javier’s hand again. You press a soft kiss to his knuckles, your tears falling onto his fingers. His steady pulse beeps throughout the room, reminding you that he’s safe and alive and he’s going to be alright. You sigh softly and look up at the other visitors to the room.

Connie brings you another tissue with a soft smile, patting your shoulder. “I can’t ask you to rest. I know it won’t work. But please, just close your eyes for a few minutes.”

Steve nods, standing next to her. “Brought some of Javi’s clothes. You want a jacket of his or something?” he asks, knowing it might be a comfort. You nod and he brings you a heavy green jacket. He drapes it over your shoulders and you curl into it, sighing at the way it smells like Javier. Connie smiles a little as she notices you unconsciously relaxing. “Steve and I will be right outside. Come on, Lori,” she says, and Lorena follows the two of them out of the room.

You sigh, pushing your chair up against a wall and resting your head against it. Your fingers are still laced through Javier’s. You suddenly feel relaxed, the whir of the air conditioning and the steady beep of his heart rate soothing you. It’s just you and Javier, and he’s asleep.

“I love you too,” you whisper out into the quiet room. “I mean it. Te quiero, Javi. Por favor, despierta para que pueda decirte eso.”

He doesn’t wake. Unsurprising, really, you think and chuckle to yourself. He won’t wake for another few hours, Lorena was right. As long as you’re right beside him, you figure that shutting your eyes for a little whole won’t hurt. You do exactly that, the hum of the room lulling you to sleep as your adrenaline finally flushes out from your system. Sleep finds you within minutes.

When you wake, you startle. Lorena stands at the end of Javier’s hospital bed, reading over the charts. She smiles and looks up as she notices you stirring. You open your mouth to ask the question but she beats you to it. “Just about an hour,” she informs you of how long you slept, and you nod. “No sign of movement from nuesta agente,” she chuckles and puts the chart back down, heading out of the room.

You sit up properly and crack your neck. Your hand has slipped from Javier’s, and you take it again, lacing your fingers through his. His fingers squeeze yours back lightly, and your eyes widen in excitement. “Javier?” you ask softly, your other hand brushing back his hair from his face. “Javi, it’s me. Connie, Lorena!” you call over your shoulder.

Javier misheard you. He’s barely conscious, and only catches half of Lorena’s name. His woozy mind processes it as a name he doesn’t want to hear- Lorraine. “No,” Javier whines softly. “No Lorraine! Aléjala de mí,” he whimpers, tossing in his bed. Whoever Lorraine is, he doesn’t want her near him, asks you to keep her away. Connie and Steve both rush in.

“¿Quién es Lorraine?” You ask softly, stroking his arm, hoping he’ll tell you who she is.

Steve and Connie both have looks of panic at hearing the name exit your lips.

“No quiero Lorraine, no!” he groans, and you rub his arm gently.

“Lorraine no está aquí, Javi. Todo es bueno, no Lorraine,” you tell him. “I’m here, Lorraine isn’t here. It’s just me, I called for Lorena,” you say her name slowly, ensuring he can tell the difference. “No Lorraine. Lori, Lo-re-na. Nuestra amiga, ¿sí?”

Javier sighs softly at that. “Oh. Eres tu. Mi ángel,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand softly. “Te quiero,” he says dazedly, his eyes fluttering open, his fingers loosening their grip. His mouth is barely curled into a smile, half-conscious. He murmurs your name, slowly and slurred and drugged as hell.

“Si, Javi. Te quiero también, te quiero muchisimo,” you say happily, tears falling from your eyes.

“Mm. Mi ángel me quiere,” he mumbles happily and his eyes close as he seems to fall back asleep, his body relaxing fully and the beeping of his heart rate slowing down.

Once Javier falls asleep, you look up at Connie and Steve. “Who the hell is Lorraine?” You whisper-shout at them.

The two of them look at each other for a second, then back at you. “Javier’s ex-fiancée,” Steve finally says. “Things ended badly for them.”

You sigh softly, nodding. “I see,” you say, turning back to him and watching him as he sleeps. You want to press them more, but you figure you’ll ask Javier about it later. You look up at Connie and your eyes water, gulping hard. “I’m so scared,” you admit, even though you know he’s going to be okay. “He’s going to hurt so bad.”

“Oh, honey,” Connie coos and squats down next to you to wipe your tears. Steve leaves the room. “I know, he is. But Javi is strong. He can do this, you know he can. Think about how goddamn stubborn he is,” she chuckles a little, and you giggle softly. “Plus, he’ll have you to help him. I think that’s all he could really want.”

“He hadn’t told me he loves me before just now,” you admit. “When we wheeled him in.”

“He meant it, I’m sure of it,” she reassures you before you can even say the words. “Do you know how protective he is over you? If Steve ever makes a joke about Javi having a girlfriend, he nearly cuts his head off,” she chuckles.

You gulp at that. That’s the second time today someone has referred to you as his girlfriend. You’re not sure if that’s true. Connie stands again and puts a hand on your shoulder. “It’s all gonna be okay, honey,” she tells you and leaves the room.

As much as you’ve appreciated the company of the Murphys and Lorena, all you want, all you need in order to feel safe right now is Javier. Of course, it’s the one thing you can’t get. He stirs again softly, and you sit up frantically in hopes that he’ll wake up again, but he remains asleep.

You lean against the wall once more, drifting in and out of sleep for about twenty minutes. There’s a soft knock on the door and Steve enters with a bag of food and a large coffee. “I ran out for some stuff,” he says quietly, putting them on the rolling table.

“You’re a godsend, Steve,” you tell him genuinely. He sets it down and you pop up to hug him, wrapping your arms around him tight. He’s taken aback, but hugs you back after a moment.

“You’d do the same for Connie if it was me,” he tells you softly and you nod. It’s true. He pats your back softly before breaking away and walking out of the room.

You take the coffee and sip at it, sighing at the taste of the warm drink. You need it, the reassurance flooding through your body as the warmth passes through your throat and settles into your stomach.

As you sip, you walk to the other side of Javier’s hospital bed. In the drawer are his personal belongings that came with him; you know that to be standard practice here. You open the drawer and find just his wallet, gun, and badge. It makes sense, you suppose. His shirt was punctured and blood soaked and had to be thrown, and it makes sense that his jeans would have been the same.

A little white corner peeks from his wallet, and you open it. Part of you feels bad for snooping, but that’s completely gone when you see what the corner belongs to.

It’s the Polaroid of you and Javier. On the bottom, on the blank white space, the date of the photo is scrawled in Javier’s hurried handwriting, a tiny heart drawn next to it. “Oh,” you gasp softly. You bite your lip to hold back tears and set down your coffee, sitting down on the edge of Javier’s bed. You cover your mouth with your hand as a sob escapes you, overwhelmed by love. You didn’t know he’d kept it with him every day, everywhere he goes. It’s simultaneously heartbreaking and elating.

“Javi,” you coo gently, pressing a kiss to his sleeping forehead. “I love you,” you murmur into his skin before sitting up again. You put the little photo back in his wallet and return to the other side of his bed, sitting in your chair.

You munch happily on the food that Steve brought you, and the doctor comes in once to check on Javier. She informs you that he looks good, as you had thought too, and that he’s going to be asleep for at least several more hours, quite some time. After that, he’ll be on intense medication to cover the pain he’ll be in. The wound was deep, and it will take a long time to recover. It’s a small miracle that it didn’t cause more injury. “I’m proud of you,” the doctor says with a soft smile. “You’re a good nurse. You didn’t let your emotions get too much in the way. If you had hesitated much longer, we might not have been so lucky.” Her words are affirming, and you shed a few happy tears at that. She leaves, once again leaving the room to just you and Javier and the white noise of the hospital.

Not long after, you fall asleep in the chair once more, curled into a ball and leaning against the wall. You sleep soundly, knowing Javier is there next to you. Everything around you feels softer this time, more soothing.

The sleep that washes over you is restful and deep; you have no dreams. Everything is soft and warm. It makes sense why you slept so well when you wake up, but it also instills a sense of panic in you: you’re not in the same place you fell asleep. You’re in a bed, somewhere you don’t recognize. “What the fuck?” You exclaim as you sit upright. “How the fuck did I get here?”

translations:

Hermana- sister (slang for friend)

Te quiero. Por favor, despierta para que pueda decirte eso.- I love you. Please, wake up so I can tell you that.

nuestra agente- our agent

Aléjala de mí- keep her away from me

Quién es- who is

No quiero Lorraine- I don’t want/I don’t love Lorraine (depending on context... you can decide here :))

No está aqui- is not here

Todo es bueno- it’s all good

Nuestra amiga- our friend

Eres tu- it’s you

Mi ángel- my angel

Te quiero- I love you

Si, te quiero también, te quiero muchisimo- yes, I love you too, I love you so much.

Me quiere- loves me

tags:

@diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @blo0dangel @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @mishasminion360

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #Narcos #narcos fanfic #blood sweat and tears #pascalpanic #steve murphy

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chloelucia13 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 16: The Sauna Test

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Henderson!reader

Prompt: You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter summary: Eleven, Max, Nancy, and Jonathan had all grown more suspicious of you and Billy after what El and Max had seen, but when everyone gets separated, the monster decides to rear its ugly head in more ways than one.

Word Count: 3352

Warnings: some angst, some fluff, some action finally (in more ways than one!!), a lil bit of cheating, language, pretty normal stuff

A/N: And we're finally getting somewhere with the Jonathan and reader plot line!!! I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and as always, my ask box and requests and tag lists are open babies! Love ya!

Tags: @just-my-fandom @nightbu-g

El couldn't let go of what she'd seen.

You being with Billy was weird enough and its strangeness had already burrowed under her skin, making her squirm. But the way you were acting, what she had seen that night when she was messing around, it wasn't right.

But what she had seen of Heather had made her downright disturbed. Sure, Billy was an asshole and she knew not to be around him, but he wasn't a murderer... right?

"Hey, there's nothing to worry about anymore, okay?" Max told her, noticing the way that El had gotten lost in her worried thoughts.

El gave her a doubtful look and let out a huff. "It doesn't make sense," she grumbled.

"What doesn't make sense?"

"Heather. The blood. The ice... Y/N."

"Heather had a fever, so she took a cold bath, but she's better now. And Y/N is probably trying to make Billy a better person or something. That has to be it. I don't know where that blood came from, but... we saw her. We saw them both. They're totally fine."

El stared at the wall, her brows furrowed. "What about Billy?"

"What about him?"

"He seemed wrong."

Max chuckled. "Wrong is kind of like his default. But it's nice to know he's not a murderer, because that totally would've sucked. Hell, maybe he seemed different because Y/N's making him better."

The two girls chuckled, and the conversation fell silent.

***

As soon as panicked panting sounded in the next room, Heather rose to her feet and walked over to the two people you held captive. Heather's parents.

You and Billy watched from afar as she spoke to her father, neglecting his pleas before stepping away and allowing you and Billy to replace her spot. Billy knelt in front of Janet as you knelt in front of Tom, both of you instructing them to stay still.

Simultaneously, you both rose to your feet and the three of you walked up the metal stairs. As you ascended the stairs, you could hear their pleas become drowned out by the guttural growls and snarls.

***

The next morning, you had awoke with a heavy pit in your stomach.

The image of Heather's overtaking was still etched behind your eyelids, and though you hadn't witnessed the other overtakings, you imagined that they occurred very similarly.

But the screams. You could never ignore the screams.

Silently, you slipped out of your bed and walked into the kitchen, pulling the freezer open and staring blankly.

The pint of strawberry ice cream from Scoops still sat there, perfectly untouched.

God, you wanted to sob. You wanted to scream. You wanted to go back to when your life was normal- well, more normal than this. Than being fucking possessed by this strange creature who was dragging you through hell.

You wanted to see your brother and his friends again. You wanted to see your friends again. Steve and Robin and Nancy and Jonathan.

Jonathan.

You were mentally kicking yourself, realizing that you spent the past six months avoiding him and now you don't know if you'll ever see him again.

You closed the freezer and scrubbed at your face, only to realize that tears had soaked your cheeks. Quickly, you swiped away the tears and rushed back to your room, not wanting to risk getting caught by your mother and having that creature take over once more.

After locking the door behind you, you curled up on your bed and pulled the blankets over your body. Maybe if you slept, you wouldn't have to deal with all this pain and guilt.

Just as you were drifting off, the doorbell rang. Immediately, your anxiety shot through the roof, and you contemplated not answering the door, but then the doorbell rang once more. You took deep breaths and slowly creeped out of bed, unlocking your door and leaving your room before stepping up to the front door.

Peering through the peephole, your heart sunk to your feet when you saw who was outside. Jonathan stood there awkwardly, his head bowed and his hands in his pockets.

You began to slowly walk away from the door when Jonathan began to speak, his voice traveling into the house. "Y/N?" he called out. "Are you home? I drove by the pool and you weren't there. I just... I was wondering if we could talk?" He sounded stressed, maybe even upset.

Your emotions took over, and against your better judgement, you pulled the door open. You watched as his eyebrows rose in surprise at the fact that you actually opened the door. "What's wrong?" you hummed. "I thought you had work today."

He chuckled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, that's uh... That's part of the issue," he coughed out. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping to the side and allowing him to come inside before you shut the door behind him. Afterwards, you stepped next to him and the two of sat down on the couch. "So, what's going on?"

"I got fired. Well, Nancy and I got fired."

Your brows knitted together in confusion. "Fired? How? I thought you were doing amazing at the post!" You tucked your legs under yourself and turned to face him directly.

"I was, and I really liked it there! But..." He let out a sigh. "Nancy had answered a call a few days ago from this old woman, saying that all of her fertilizer was going missing."

Sounds like a newsworthy story," you teased.

"Hey, it's serious!"

You held up your hands in surrender, but a giggle slipped past your lips. "Sorry, sorry. Continue."

He let out a playful huff, a smile cracking at the corners of his mouth. "Anyway, she realized that the fertilizer was going missing because there were rats in her basement that were eating it and the rats... They were getting sick, or something." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Nancy and I went to investigate, and we didn't ask any of the higher ups because we knew that they would tell us that it was stupid. We went, and we realized that she was telling the truth. The rats had eaten whole bags of fertilizer."

"Okay, hold on, you said the rats were different? In what way?"

He shrugged, shaking his head. "I have no idea. It was like they were feral, diseased." He let out a sigh before continuing. "We went back to work the next day and Nancy told everyone about what we saw. Like we expected, everyone just thought we were being stupid. That she was some paranoid and lonely old woman who sucked us into one of her many conspiracy theories so she could spend time with somebody."

Jonathan paused, lost in thought with a deep line set between his brows. Silently, you reached forward and smoothed the line with your thumb, brushing some hair away from his face at the same time. "So you got fired because you followed a potential story?"

He shook his head. "We went back last night, and we found her in her basement. She had eaten the fertilizer, along with a whole bunch of chemicals that we found around the house. She was screaming about how she had to go back." He stared silently at the carpet. "Luckily, the ambulance was able to stabilize her and she's safe at the hospital."

You could tell how much guilt he was harboring, how heavy everything weighed on his shoulders. You rested your hand on his shoulder and squeezed, earning a small smile from him. "You saved her, Johnny. I don't think there's anything you should feel bad about."

A sigh left his lips. "Tom thinks that we abused his trust, and we fed into her delusions. So he fired us."

The mention of Tom gave you flashbacks to last night, but you quickly smothered them and instead gave Jonathan a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry."

"I drove Nancy home, and we... we got into a huge fight about everything that happened. About how I needed that job and she didn't, and she fucked it up for both of us. I-I said some things I didn't mean, but..." He returned his gaze to you finally. "I'm just hurt and guilty and confused about how I feel at the same time."

"Well," you sighed, letting your hand drop from his shoulder to his hand, linking your fingers with his. "I know that you both did what you think was right, and I know that you both were so concerned about this because you've seen things that make you worry that it could be something... Out of the ordinary." You scooted a bit closer, looking him in the eye. "But I also know that maybe you let Nancy drag you into this big mess, and you blame her for everything that happened. But Nancy has been going through her own problems, and maybe she felt that she needed to prove herself and her judgement was clouded by that."

He was silent for a moment, letting his eyes search yours as he looked for the words to say. "I should call her. Apologize to her."

You sighed. "Maybe. Or maybe you should let it sit for a bit, make sure you have all of your emotions lined up, because I know you both get a bit hot-headed when you're defending your actions."

He chuckled at that, his eyes dropping to your linked hands and gliding his thumb along your knuckles. "Y'know, Max and El came up to me yesterday, and they said they were looking for you. That they were worried about you."

You resisted the urge to stiffen, instead taking a deep breath and trying to stay calm. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah, they said that you were being really weird. That you were even hanging out with Billy. It even freaked me out a little bit. I... I guess that was part of the reason I came here, to talk to you. I wanted to make sure you were okay, and now I feel stupid for even worrying."

Please don't feel stupid. Listen to that gut instinct. Please.

"I mean, it definitely is a little stupid," you teased, nudging his shoulder. "I think those girls just have a bit of an overactive imagination. I'm just fine. Just normal old me."

"Thank god for that," he added, a full smile finally spreading across his face.

You returned his smile before rising off the couch. "Do you want something to drink or eat?"

He shook his head, also pushing himself to his feet. "No, I should probably get going. Thank you, though."

You nodded, walking him to the door and opening it for him. "Of course. Thanks for checking up on me, Jonathan, even if I didn't need it."

He stepped out the door and stood on the porch for a moment, eyes flitting over your face. "I missed you, Y/N."

A small sigh left your lips. "I missed you too. So much. Stay in touch, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay. Bye, Y/N."

"Bye, Johnny." With one final wave, you closed the front door.

***

After seeing Jonathan that morning, you had felt a sort of urge to see him again, a magnetic pull towards that boy who broke your heart.

You knew it was dangerous to see him, not only because he was now in a committed relationship with your friend (though after what he told you had happened between them, you wondered if that label would last), but also due to the fact that you had no idea when this creature controlling you would make you snap and do god-knows-what.

So you locked yourself in your room once more, staring at the ceiling as you laid on the floor and attempted to will this horrible longing feeling away.

To no one's surprise, it didn't work.

Your next idea was to go spend time with Steve, hoping that maybe he would talk some sense into you. You threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater and drove to the mall in the sweltering heat, not wanting to risk letting your skin bubble and sizzle under the sun like BIlly's had.

But of course, neither Steve nor Robin were working, and no one had heard from them.

Under normal circumstances, you would be worried about their wellbeing, but you frankly had too much on your mind concerning your own wellbeing that you didn't fret about it. Instead, you ordered a pint of strawberry and a pint of mint chip from the boy at the counter and hurried out of the mall.

Before you could even stop yourself, you had pulled up (in the

car you had finally gotten fixed) onto the rocky front yard of the Byers' house.

With a few mumbled profanities towards your impulsiveness, you grabbed both pints of ice cream and stepped up the front porch steps that creaked under your feet. You knocked at the front door and shifted awkwardly, turning slightly to glance at the setting sun.

"Y/N?"

You turned around to face Jonathan who stood at the door, now dressed in an olive green tee shirt and a pair of jeans. "Hi!" you hummed, smiling brightly.

"Hi," he chuckled, mirroring your smile. "What are you doing here?"

You shrugged, brushing past him and walking into the house. "I thought you might still be feeling down about today, so I wanted to bring you some ice cream. You still like mint chip, right?"

His eyes followed your figure as you walked into the kitchen and grabbed two spoons for the both of you. "Uh, yeah. Thanks...?"

You finally stopped moving for a moment to take in his confused state. With a sigh, you sat down on the couch, placing the ice cream and spoons down on the coffee table. "And after seeing you today, I realized how much I missed spending time with you. I guess... I guess I just wanted to see you again and catch up."

His look of confusion slowly melted into one of comfort and slight melancholy. "I missed you too. I'm glad you came over." We walked over and sat on the couch, his leg bumping into yours. "And I'm glad that you brought me ice cream."

You nudged his shoulder with yours, giving him a beaming smile. "You're lucky I remembered your favorite. I was just about to get some only for me."

He shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I don't mind sharing."

"I do!"

He laughed, resting his head on your shoulder as his shoulders shook with giggles. You laughed with him, but you were acutely aware of how close he was to you.

As your laughs died down, the two of you opened your individual pints of ice cream and began to dig in. "Have you talked to Nancy yet?" you asked before shoveling a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

He shook his head, letting out a sigh. "Not yet. I'm taking your advice and letting everything settle for a bit," he replied, leaning back on the couch. "I just... our argument made me realize a lot."

"Like what?" you mirrored his position, leaning back on the arm of the couch.

"I mean, I knew that we both came from different backgrounds and we would never agree on some things, but..." He poked his ice cream with his spoon. "I guess I never realized that though we've spent so much time together, she still has this idea that everyone has it as good as she does. That people can just throw away something that doesn't fit them perfectly because they have the money to do so." He lifted his eyes from his ice cream and up to you. "And maybe I'm narrow-minded too, spending time with other people who knew what it was like living without a lot of money."

You frowned as he spoke, slowly leaning forward to set your ice cream and spoon down on the coffee table. "Do you think that it could... hurt you guys in the long run? Knowing what she sees about the whole situation?"

He set his ice cream down as well, pulling his feet up onto the couch and crossing his legs. "I-I don't know."

Silently, the two of you searched each other's eyes with baited breath, a million thoughts racing through your head.

It was at that moment that your judgement took a back seat, and you felt that inky fog lurking in your mind.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He let out a hum of surprise, but he made no move to pull away from you. Slowly, you moved your hands to the back of his neck and scooted closer to him so you didn't have to crane your neck. You huffed out a sigh of relief as his hands finally rested on your cheeks, his shoulders beginning to lose their tension as he finally relaxed into the kiss.

Just as you were about to deepen the kiss, you felt the familiar surge of black course through your veins, your skin beginning to burn as black veins snaked up your arms and neck.

As the pull towards the creature grew stronger, your lips fell from Jonathan's and you fought the creature for control.

Jonathan gave you a confused look when you pulled away, but he quickly pushed himself away from you when he noticed the inky veins that adorned your skin. "Y/N," he gasped, his eyes wide with panic and fear. You immediately pushed yourself off the couch and rushed towards the door, only for Jonathan to lurch forward and grab your wrist. "Y/N, what the fuck is going on!"

You snapped your gaze to him, feeling that fog slowly take over your mind as you fought to stay awake. "Let me go," you begged. "Please, I don't want to hurt you."

"What?"

"Let me go, Jonathan!"

Your tone startled him, loosening his grip on your wrist just enough for you to slip away from him and out the door before the creature took control.

***

Jonathan began to pace back and forth a few minutes after... Whatever had just happened.

He knew those veins, those pitch black veins that flooded your skin. He saw them when he had to exorcise his own brother, and now another person he cared for so dearly was overtaken by that same creature.

When Will was fighting was controlled by that same creature, though, he didn't seem so... normal. Was it evolving? Learning?

That then made him question if it was even really you. Maybe it had learned your mannerisms, took advantage of the thoughts it had access to.

What if you didn't even want to kiss him, but that thing made you?

He shook the thought from his head. He knew you loved him, that you wanted to be with him. But he also knew that you wouldn't overstep since him and Nancy were still together, even though they had gotten in a fight.

But God, he'd kiss you again in an instant if given the chance.

With a huff, he sat back down on the couch and stared at the two half-eaten pints of ice cream, guilt and worry gnawing at his insides.

He needed to tell Nancy about what happened to you. Just not now.

***

You sat at the landing of the metal warehouse stairs, silently watching Heather patch up Billy's bloodied body as you thought back on what happened just minutes ago.

"The girl, was it her?" Heather asked, gently dabbing a damp cloth over Billy's shoulder.

"Yeah," Billy responded gruffly, his jaw set tight. "It was her. She knows now. She knows about me."

"Jonathan knows too," you voiced silently. "He saw."

He gripped onto Heather's wrist, stopping her actions. "She could've killed me," Billy continued, ignoring your statement.

"Yes. But not us," heather whispered. Silently, she turned to look over the rows of individuals you've sacrificed, people overtaken by the monster.

"Not us," you repeated.

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