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theasstour · 3 years

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟐𝟔.𝟑𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

A/N: As you’re all aware, the Philippines was hit by a category 5-equivalent super typhoon two weeks ago. The typhoon is the world’s strongest storm this year and has brought with it unimaginable destruction. Here’s a link to #RescuePH where you can read more about what’s happening in the Philippines right now. There are also donation links there! If you don’t have the means to donate – which is very understandable - here’s a link to a video to watch on YouTube where all ad revenue goes to those affected by the typhoon! I have learned so much about Filipino culture these last few months writing ST as well as gotten to know some incredible Filipinos along the way, and the news of the typhoon has rocked me to my core. If you feel like, you can play the video in the background while you’re reading this massive chapter! Enjoy the final chapter 🧡💛 I love you all so much!

Sunday, 9 August

“It’s a beautiful day out,” Y/N’s mother said as she looked out over Porthminster Beach, leaning her head back a little and letting a salty breeze rustle up her grey hair. “Shame we’re spending it in the shade.”

Y/N glanced up at the roof overhead that offered rescue in the sweltering summer sun. Though she loved the sun as well and wanted to spend as much time in it as possible before summer ended soon, she knew that this chat would have her sweating enough without them sitting out of the shade the Porthminster Beach Café provided. Y/N looked down at her iced lemon tea, inhaling slowly as to calm herself. All day yesterday, Y/N had been too anxious to do anything but stay in her room and think about today. While in the lighthouse the day before yesterday, Y/N had sent her mother a text message asking if the two of them could talk without her father or Dominic being present. She knew her mother would’ve told them by now where she was and what she was doing, but she appreciated the fact that she had listened to Y/N’s request and not brought them.

“Didn’t get to go to a proper beach this summer,” Mrs McKay went on, eyes on the sea and where the waves crashed softly against shore. “The family could’ve gone someplace nice, would’ve been good for us.”

Y/N didn’t say anything.

“Think we all just need a break. Go somewhere to forget about everything and reflect on our lives.”

Y/N still kept her mouth shut, knowing that she had to choose her words carefully so that her mother would fully understand.

“Do you remember when we went to that beach in Florida and you saw that sting ray?” Mrs McKay chuckled a little to herself.

“And I screamed for help ‘cause it scared me.”

Mrs McKay laughed some more at the memory, studying the beach some more. “That was truly something else. Not something you’d normally do.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that.

“Don’t you miss those days? When everything was simple?” Mrs McKay seemed to be completely lost in her own head and memories, thinking back to a time she had clearly glorified.

“I don’t…” Y/N trailed off, furrowing her brows. “I don’t think everything was that simple back then, or now, for that matter.”

“What do you mean?” Mrs McKay asked. “Don’t you think the family would benefit from taking some time off and just relax like we did back then?”

“It’s…” Y/N glanced at her iced tea. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know if it would’ve been a good idea for the family to reconnect again?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not? We need to talk about everything that’s happened these past few months. And especially what happened two days ago, because your father and I agree, Y/N, that was very irresponsible of you, throwing yourself out of a moving vehicle like that.”

“I know it was, I’m aware,” she said. “But in that moment, and I think you know this deep down, that was the only solution. You wouldn’t have stopped to let me out.”

Mrs McKay sighed. “We should definitely think about that holiday I just suggested, it’d be nice.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, studying her mother for a moment before she spoke for the first time in a few minutes. “I don’t… I don’t think it would be, Mum.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wouldn be nice to go on that holiday.”

Mrs McKay finally looked at her daughter, eyes following her outline slowly with a slight tilt to her head as if she was trying to assess what was best to say in this sort of situation. “The beach is always nice.”

“I wasn’t referring to the beach. I was referring to family time.”

Mrs McKay nodded her head slowly, bringing her glass of water up to her lips to take a slow sip.

“I think… I’ve wanted to talk to you about this for a while now. I think you’ve known it would happen as well.”

Her mother didn’t answer.

“I just… I just want to talk about everything and what’s gonna happen going forward. I don’t want there to be anything left unsaid after this.”

Mrs McKay kept her eyes on the table and nodded again. “Alright. What did you want to talk about?”

“Well… a lot, really.”

“Better start then.”

Y/N swallowed thickly, taking a quick sip of her iced tea before she turned her attention back on her mother, reaching for the ball of courage she had gathered from thinking about and getting ready for this the past two days. “I think ever since I was born, you’ve put pressure on me to live the kind of life you couldn’t when you were younger. When you got me, you saw possibility to make something right that you yourself hadn’t been able to.-”

“-That’s not true.”

“Let me finish. I think, until you got me, you were lonely. Dad wasn’t exactly a fucking dream-“

“-Watch your language.-“

“-And you didn’t really have any friends, so the second I was born, you finally had someone. You could do whatever you wanted with me. Or at least, that’s what you thought,” Y/N said. “You projected this image onto me of what you thought the perfect daughter, the perfect woman, would be, and ‘cause I was terrified of letting you and Dad down, I went along.”

“You’d never do that.”

“But I have. And I will.”

Mrs McKay furrowed her brows, but before she was able to say anything else – though she’d talk over people if she so had to, Y/N knew.

“I’ve been so conflicted, mum.” Y/N heard her own voice break, and it wasn’t till then that she realised that she was close to tears. The lines between Mrs McKay’s brows deepened at the sound. “Part of me hates you.”

Mrs McKay’s face fell at that.

“It hates you so much. It hates you for the days you told me you noticed I’d lost weight and how beautiful I now looked, it hates you for never being interested to listen to me talk about what I’m passionate about, it hates you for belittling said passions and making me feel stupid for having ambitions.”

“Y/N-“

“-It hates you for making me feel conflicted when I first followed my dreams, ‘cause I didn’t know if I was supposed to follow my own or the ones you’d laid out for me just to please you momentarily. Hates you for the trauma you caused me. For the countless hours spent in front of a mirror pointing out my flaws, and taking a really long time to realise that said flaws aren’t that. For hearing your voice in my head when I make a mistake, telling me how I should’ve known better.”

Now it was Mrs McKay’s turn to be stunned to silence, just watching Y/N with a steel face, refusing to show any sign of emotion.

“But…” Y/N dug her nails into her palms, telling herself that she could cry when she got back to the Inn, but not now. “But the other part of me, one that I hate most of all, still loves you.”

Mrs McKay’s lip was a thin line and Y/N recognised that face. That face appeared when her mother was unsure of how to feel about something, but by the looks of the slight tremor in her cheeks, Y/N knew her words had gotten through.

Y/N sobbed, hoping no one around them could hear and that no one she knew were around to witness this. “It loves you ‘cause you’re my mum. You brought me into this world, and you’ve stuck by me. You made me feel loved when I was younger, and I used to look up to you. You used to be my role model.”

Mrs McKay looked away.

“That part makes me feel so horrible, ‘cause how can you love someone who brought you so much self-loathing and misery? How is that possible?” Y/N was quick to wipe away the tear on her cheek. “But I do. I can’t erase that or you from my memory. Part of me is going to miss you after this.”

Mrs McKay met Y/N’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to contact me again. None of you. Not you, not Dad, not Dominic.”

Mrs McKay looked absolutely dumbfounded. “I beg your pardon?”

“You three brought me so much torment I don’t want you in my life anymore.”

“Y/N, you’re being ridiculous-“

“-If you want to contact me or meet me, you have to ask me via text message if I am okay with that. If I say yes, that only makes it a one-time thing, we are not going to stay in contact after it. If I say no, don’t try to persuade me, manipulate me, or make me feel bad about it. I’m pushing you out of my life for a reason.”

“Try to think rationally for once-“

“-If you do not respect this and come after me again, I’ll file a restraining order against you, Dad, and Dominic. Won’t look too good on Dad’s record now, will it?”

Mrs McKay just sat there staring again.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Mrs McKay didn’t react.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

Y/N nodded then, picking up her iced tea and hoping her mum didn’t see how her hand was trembling slightly.

“You don’t want any contact with your family? The people who are supposed to love you unconditionally-“

“-You might love me, but it’s not in a way that’ll help me grow. Which is what love is all about. St Ives and the people I’ve met here, those are my family. This is home now.”

Mrs McKay took a few moments to think before she said, with a voice so ice cold it made Y/N’s hair stand on end, “You can’t choose your family. You’re put into this world- you’re placed somewhere, where you belong.”

“No. Family and belonging are not synonymous. You are my birth family, but I can choose who I consider to be in my closest circle, the people that mean the most to me,” Y/N said. “You are not that.”

A short silence stretched out between them before Mrs McKay said, “What about your father’s business? The one he inherited from his father, your grandfather.”

“What about it?” Y/N asked. “You never even bothered to tell me what it is.”

“Oh, it’s got something to do with electronic pins. You know those you have in your phone?”

Y/N just looked at her mother.

“I’ve never bothered to ask much, Y/N, it hasn’t ever been very interesting to me.”

“Maybe it would’ve been to me if you’d just let me in on it from the start instead of assuming I was too dim to take on the role as CEO.”

Mrs McKay’s eyes narrowed as if she was about to protest, but she must’ve realised her daughter was speaking the truth because she did not object.

“Can’t Dad just let someone else be CEO? Someone who is actually good at their job instead of giving the job away to Dominic?”

“Dom is qualified for the role.”

“Sure, but he’s also a fucking arsehole.”

Mrs McKay winced at Y/N’s words.

“Mum, you never even wanted me to know what Dad was doing. Let alone want me to take over for him. It’s never been a problem before that I won’t take over after him, dunno why it would be now.”

Mrs McKay just looked at Y/N, their conversation on replay in her head it seemed because she was conflicted. For the longest time, they just stared at one another and realised what this meant. Y/N had been ready for this conversation for a while now, even though she hadn’t realised how badly it needed to be had till this very second. Mrs McKay, nor the other two that had come here, had truly known how Y/N felt before last night. What Y/N had said along with her actions must have spoken volumes. But this, Y/N was aware, took the cake. She was telling her mother, a person who had given up next to everything for Y/N in a sense, to never contact her again unless she had to. It had to sting, and Y/N knew that she would miss her mother sometimes. Those moments when they’d laugh at something together or those early years where Y/N remembered idolising her mum. She’d miss that. But she would also be so much happier without her in her life.

“Well,” Mrs McKay said, voice trembling. “I should be heading back to your dad. He won’t be too happy about the news.”

“Mum, you can leave him.”

The pitiful smile that graced Mrs McKay’s face after that made Y/N cringe. “I won’t.”

Y/N nodded, watching as her mother got up from her seat. She did as well, giving her mother a small smile to offer some peace, to tell her that it would all be okay. At least in Y/N’s world. Y/N could tell that her mother hesitated at first, but once she stepped forward with her arms spread wide, Y/N walked straight into her embrace. They hugged each other tighter than they had ever hugged before, savouring this last, this peaceful moment that they had together.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” her mum said, rubbing her daughter’s back.

“Bye, Mum.”

They stepped away from one another and her mother smiled at her again. Y/N swore she could see tears welling up in her mother’s eyes, but she chose not to point it out, fully aware that she was about to cry herself. Mrs McKay drank the rest of her water, looked one last time into Y/N’s eyes, and then walked past her, down the stairs, and out of sight.

Monday, 10 August

The teapot was empty and all the biscuits were gone, meaning that Florence, Camila, and Barb were leaving The Roaming Crab Inn. The five of them had been knitting for hours now, and though Y/N had finished her project a while ago, she wanted to spend some more time with the knitting ladies before doing what she had to do. Florence folded the jumper she was working on and Barb hummed some sort of melody while Camila talked everyone’s ears off.

“I’m telling you,” Camila said, putting away her glasses. “The sleeves on this dress are way too big.”

“No, they’re not.” Bessie got up from her seat and walked over to Camila, taking the baby doll lemon dress out of Camila’s hands. Lowering her glasses onto the tip of her nose, she took a closer look. “How many were you supposed to cast off?”

“Three.”

“But then this is correct, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Camila sighed, taking hold of the dress when Bessie gave it back to her.

“Besides, your granddaughter won’t notice if you did the sleeves wrong.”

Camila looked right up at Bessie with narrowed eyes. “So, you admit I made a mistake?”

“No, I just pointed out that if you did, your granddaughter would hardly see it.” Bessie turned back around to go sit down in her chair, meeting Y/N’s eyes and making a grimace as to say that whatever Camila had just knitted, couldn’t have been correct. She sat back down again as Y/N gathered all the cups and the biscuit tray, carrying it all back inside to the kitchen where she put it in the dishwasher.

“Bye, darling,” Barb smiled as she walked past the kitchen. “Your cardigan’s looking wonderful.”

“Thank you, Barbara. See ya,” Y/N smiled, walking upstairs to put on her green woollen jumper. It was getting rather cold out as evening approached, and though Y/N had just finished knitting her summer project, it wasn’t hers to wear. Looking out the window, she saw the glass with a bouquet of dead flowers still standing in her windowsill. She didn’t have the heart to throw it away since doing so would be like binning the last piece of this summer she still had left. Forcing herself to look away, Y/N blinked away the stinging in her eyes as she started walking back down the stairs and the back garden.

All the other ladies had gone, meaning that it was just Y/N and Bessie left. Bessie still sat knitting, smiling at Y/N as she stepped outside.

“Want me to make another brew?” Y/N asked, adjusting her white summer dress under her oversized jumper.

“No, me lover, that’s quite alright. Thank you, though.”

Y/N smiled, sitting back down in her seat and picking up the cardigan. She was picking at some threads that were poking out, some of the many flaws in her first ever knitting project, when Bessie put her vest down and glanced over at her. Y/N looked back at her, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly.

“Is something the matter?” Y/N asked.

“You tell me.”

Y/N huffed, looking back down at her cardigan. “Depends what you’re referring to, I guess.”

Bessie sighed a bit, putting the vest on the table before them. “You haven’t spoken about that chat you had with your mum yesterday.”

Y/N inhaled slowly. “It was a lot to process.”

“We got time.”

Looking up at the older woman again, Y/N was greeted with one of Bessie’s signature warm smiles.

“I told her that I don’t want her, Dad, or Dominic to ever contact me again. She got a bit defensive, but she agreed not to contact me unless necessary.”

Bessie nodded her head slowly. “Do you think she’ll keep that promise?”

“She will, I’m less certain about Dad and Dom.”

Bessie huffed, leaning back against the back of her chair. “That’s men for you, never listen to what a woman has to say.”

“The right ones do.”

Bessie laughed, making Y/N smile a little. “Talking from experience, are you?”

Y/N hoped Bessie couldn’t see her cheeks heat up, but she was sure she noticed, hearing the older woman chuckle heartily before silence settled over them once again.

“You know,” Bessie started, knitting her vest again. “When I was younger, I drew the conclusion that family isn’t always blood and who you’ve spent the most time with. No, family is who makes you feel at home, who makes you feel safe, and loved.”

Y/N looked over at Bessie, biting her bottom lip as it threatened to wobble again.

“Family is who you make it. You don’t owe your parents anything. They might’ve brought you into this world, but they didn’t give you life, you did that yourself. When you decided to leave them, when you came here, when you applied for your UCAT, when you met Harry and everyone else. That’s life. You chose life.”

Y/N couldn’t help her smile, her sight getting blurrier with each passing second, but she didn’t really care just then.

“I’m so proud of you for doing that. It takes a lot of courage to follow your dreams, especially when the environment around you tells you that said dreams aren’t worth it,” Bessie said. “But, you have to remember this, they always are. Every dream is worth it. It’s okay to feel sad after making the right decision.”

A sob escaped Y/N’s lips and Bessie looked up at once, putting the vest away to focus her attention on Y/N who was now full on crying. She hadn’t known how much she needed to hear those words till Bessie finally said them. Holding onto Bessie’s hand for dear life, Y/N looked into the innkeeper’s eyes, trying to smile again, but she couldn’t.

“Bessie, thank you,” Y/N said between sobs. “Truly, thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I love you; I love how far you’ve come.”

Y/N brought a hand up to her mouth, stopping a loud sob from coming out from between her lips. “I don’t know what to do now,” she said once she had calmed down a little. “I don’t know where to go, what to do, how I’m gonna handle University when the time comes. Like, I’ll be 26 by that time and everyone who’s starting will be almost ten years younger than me. It feels like everyone’s sprinted this marathon since forever, and I’ve fallen over and struggled to get up so many times that I’ve fallen behind. I don’t know how I’m gonna get back into the race, you know? I can’t win.”

Bessie pondered over Y/N’s words, watching her intently as she wiped more tears away from her face. “You can still win, Y/N. And even if you don’t win, you still did everything you could, and that’s just as good as winning, is it not?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, looking down at her and Bessie’s joined hands.

“Life doesn’t wait for you. It doesn’t force you to do anything, it just drags you along on a journey and it’s your responsibility to do what you want with your time on earth. You are still so young, you have so much time to do whatever you wanna do. If you lost your youth to controlling parents, abuse, a partner you thought truly loved you but didn’t, if you lost your youth to mental illness, your life isn’t over. There’s no deadline for anything like that in life. If you wanna go to uni now, five-none years after everyone else you know went to uni, then that’s what you’re gonna do. Who says you have to be a certain age, or at a certain stage in your life, or be satisfied with how you look, act, feel, before doing something that ultimately will make you happy? That will make your life worth living? No, life isn’t gonna wait for you to catch up, no one will, but it’s gonna give you opportunities to right your wrongs, to do what will bring you happiness. There’s no deadline, you still have time.”

Y/N met Bessie’s eyes again and the older woman smiled at her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“All the time in the world,” Bessie said.

“I just don’t know what to do. I just… this feels like home, but after everything that happened last Friday, I’m not sure people want me here.”

“Oh, we do,” Bessie said firmly. “People might not have been happy with you, but they won’t love you any less. This is still your home, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled.

“We are your family now, Y/N. If you need a mum, I’ll be your bloody mum.”

Y/N laughed, leaning forward and bringing Bessie into a hug. Out of everything she had done in the last few days, this was definitely a moment Y/N thought she would cherish forever. This entire summer, Bessie had stood by her. No matter what, Bessie had been beside Y/N, ready to help whenever she needed guidance, and Y/N was unsure if she had ever met someone so willing to love as Bessie. She clung a little tighter onto Bessie, feeling another tear roll down her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Bessie said, a smile in her voice. “Now, all you need to do is revise for the UCAT and give that cardigan to its rightful owner, eh?”

Y/N therefore took the cardigan with her up to her room and sat down by her desk. Though she was sure Harry was home, she was unsure if she’d have the courage to actually knock on the door and give it to him. It’d be better if she just left it there for him, though she knew that would also just look very weird. After everything, she had to face Harry, she was just unsure of how it was all going to play out. It took her a while to find the right words, and once she was done with her final draft letter, she put it on the desk beside the pile of disqualified letters, getting up to find her things and get ready for the trip to the lighthouse. With her stomach hurting from nerves, she put the cardigan in the tote bag, struggling to fit it as she reached for the desk, picking up the letter and shoving it into the tote bag.

With her tote bag on her shoulder, she started on her walk to the lighthouse. She had no idea what Harry would say when she showed up, if he would even allow her to enter his cottage at all. The three days that had passed since the end of summer party felt like ten years each, time had never moved slower. Y/N had waited for this moment for a while now. She had tried to gather the courage she would need for this. But, she kept telling herself this, if she managed to meet her mum and confront her about everything and told her, her dad, and Dominic to stay away from her, then she could walk to Clodgy Point and hand Harry a bloody cardigan. How hard could it be?

However, with each step she took that led her closer to the lighthouse, Y/N felt almost just as anxious, if not worse, than when she walked to meet her mother. There was something about facing Harry after everything that made her mouth dry up. She had absolutely no idea if he would want to see her again after everything, if he could even bear the sight of her after all she put his family and loved ones through. Not only had her father showed up to Jessa’s farm, but Harry had also been violently slammed against his own car and gone into hypo not long after. The mess that had been last Friday had made them both go through emotions neither thought would be possible to endure at once and during one single evening. She wondered if Harry knew she had been to the lighthouse and done the weather reports that night and the following morning.

Walking along Fore Street, Y/N gazed into the shops on either side of the pedestrian street, taking in life in St Ives as she didn’t know what would happen after today. She was originally set to check out of the Inn that morning, August 10th, but Bessie told her it would be alright if she wanted to leave by train later that day. Y/N didn’t know yet where she wanted to go or how far that would be, but all she knew was that she had to be in Plymouth on September 10th to take the UCAT. Besides that, her future looked to be very blurry. It all depended on what happened when she arrived at the lighthouse.

But as she strolled up the hill to Clodgy Point, she didn’t see Harry’s yellow van. Though this was weird at first, she tried to tell herself that he was still home. There hadn’t been a single time that summer when she’d shown up to Harry’s cottage and he hadn’t been there. He was always there.

Knocking on the door though, left Y/N standing there in silence for a single minute, the wild wind, seagulls, and sun overhead the only things keeping her company. She knew it was none of her business looking through the windows into his cottage, but she had to know if he was just ignoring her or if he really wasn’t there. She walked to the side of the house, looking in through the window just beside his bed, the one placed right beside the dining table. The place was empty. Sighing, she walked back over to the door and took her tote bag off her shoulder. She placed it in front of the door, hoping the wind wouldn’t blow it away, and then she got up and walked back the way she came.

It had been stupid to go there in the first place. Of course he wouldn’t be completely by himself after the hypo he had just a few days ago. His family and loved ones would most likely not allow him to be anywhere out of sight till they knew he was alright. Y/N refused to let her eyes start to sting again even though she could feel it coming on. The last few days she had been crying more than she ever had before. She never used to be a big crier, but something about being in St Ives and something about everything, the atmosphere and everyone in this town made her feel much more than before. It made her feel. It made her want.

Returning to the Inn, it was getting much darker out and Cornwall would soon be embraced once again by night. Y/N tried to look for Bessie inside, but the older woman must’ve gone home for a bit because she was nowhere to be seen. Y/N walked back up the steps and to her room, rummaging through her purse for her keys for what could be the last time. It seemed to take more time than usual and she groaned at herself, finding it harder to look for anything when it was so dark everywhere. The dim lighting of the stairs made her stop for a second. Taking a second to just narrow her eyes and get a closer look, Y/N was suddenly able to make out what it was she was seeing.

Bluebells, sea pinks, and hedgerow cranesbills laid neatly right before the door to her room. And though it looked almost just like the bouquets he had made her earlier, this one was almost entirely purple and made out of bellflowers. Y/N reached for it, picking it up and bringing it closer to her face, running her fingers over the soft petals gently as she felt her heart begin to pick up speed. It was as she smelled the flowers that she realised what this meant. Her eyes shot up and she just stared straight ahead at her door as she started breathing fast. He had been here. Harry had stopped by while she was walking to the lighthouse, dropping off the bouquet.

There was no time for hesitation as Y/N shot up into a standing position, running downstairs just as Bessie came back to the Inn.

“Oh! Hello, dear-“

“-Harry’s been here?” Y/N panted, standing in the doorway with the bouquet still in her hand.

Bessie’s eyes fell to the colourful flowers before she met Y/N’s eyes again. “He has.”

“When? Was it long ago?”

“Can’t remember, my darling, I just remember seeing his yellow car outside and there he was.” Bessie tutted softly. “It’s about to fall to pieces, that car of his.”

“You didn’t talk to him?”

A small smile spread out over Bessie’s lips as if she understood exactly what was going on. “I did.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows impatiently. “And?!”

“He asked where you were.”

Y/N waved her hands frantically to get Bessie to tell her what she’d told him in return.

“Told him you’d gone to the lighthouse to find him.”

Y/N ran a hand over her face, inhaling hugely. “Alright. Okay. Deep breaths.”

Bessie watched the younger woman with amusement, cocking her head a little to the side as a knowing smile spread out over her face.

“I… I need to leave. I need to go,” Y/N said. “If he shows up again, tell him I’ll wait.” She ran over to the other side of the street as the sky overhead was a slight darkening blue, tinges of purple and pink along the horizon. She stopped as she got a glimpse of the lighthouse, finally seeing the light. A light that would guide her where she needed to be. And with that, Y/N set off. By Porthminster beach, through Fore Street, flying past slow walkers, running straight for Clodgy lighthouse. She felt the bouquet fall apart, leaving flowers along her path through St Ives in a desperate attempt to get to Harry. To get where she needed and where she was supposed to be.

Though it had been a trek walking up the stone path before, Y/N ran up it with ease this time around. She could see the lighthouse blinking its distinct pattern, could make out some light within the cottage along with the yellow van. A breath left her and her heart began to soar, that shred of hope that had been born from seeing the bouquet in the hotel blossomed. Out of breath and probably very sweaty, Y/N knocked on the door of the cottage. However, like last time, no one opened. So, Y/N tried again, but same luck this time around. She walked out onto the moors and squinted her eyes, trying to look about to see if she could make out Harry’s figure.

“Harry!” she shouted, whipping her head around in different directions to see where he was. “Harry!” She ran beyond the cottage, trying to make out anything, anything at all, against the flat moors. “Where are you?!”

“Y/N!”

It came from overhead. As if an angel was flying just high enough for the wind to carry some of his voice, but low enough so that Y/N could hear him clearly. Turning around, Y/N was sure she was seeing just that, an angel. Harry was standing on the gallery deck of the lighthouse, looking down at her. At the sight of him, Y/N felt an intense tingle go through her entire body. It was an overwhelming sort of happiness, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, and it surrounded her, made the air around her static with anticipation and adoration. The sky behind him was darkening so she couldn’t make out his face, but she would be able to do just that soon enough.

Smiling to herself, she ran for the door. She pulled it open and let it slam behind her as she ran up the steps. Past the office, past the bedroom, past everything, till she made it to the very top. Panting and thighs burning, she opened the door on the topmost floor. The ladder to the bell room stood to her right, but she turned left and walked out onto the gallery deck where she’d seen Harry.

There he stood, right under the blinking light. He was looking at her with his lips slightly parted, hair as unkempt as usual, and a look of relief and shock on his face. They were left there just staring at each other for a little while, neither of them able to voice what they had been thinking about for the last three days. Everything from her jumping out of the car to get him, to helping him with his hypo, to doing the weather report, to talking to her mum, and the cardigan. The cardigan. Y/N was ashamed of how long it had taken her to notice it, she blamed the darkening sky above them.

Harry was wearing the colourful square cardigan she had knitted him and placed in front of his door. The one she had put there not even an hour earlier along with her note. Biting her lips together, she let her eyes wander his body. She took in the Elton John tee shirt he was wearing and the loose light washed denim jeans along with his black Vans. But her eyes lingered on what he was holding in his hand. Her heart skipped a beat and her breath halted. Their eyes met again, and Harry’s jaw was now working, trying to find the right words as he so rarely did.

“What’s that?” she asked him in a small voice, gesturing at his hand.

He looked down at it before looking up at her again, holding it up for her to see. A book. And not just any book. Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. Her favourite book by her favourite author. The one she had been reading to him in the field beside the lighthouse all summer. Her eyes began to sting again and she wondered once again how many times she would find herself crying in the span of just a couple of days.

“I, uhm…” He looked at it, opening it on the page where he rested his finger. “I just got to this bit right here- I mean, the whole book is rather confusing ‘cause of the whole stream of consciousness thing going on, but…” He pointed a finger at the line he’d been reading. “This right here made sense. Very much.”

The light from the lighthouse continued to shine its pattern across the coast before and around them, making some of Harry temporarily light up. It just strengthened her argument from before, that he was an angel.

“’Nothing is so strange when one is in love,’” Harry said.

“’As the complete indifference of other people,’” Y/N finished and Harry looked up at once, taken aback by her interruption but not at all offended.

He nodded his head slowly. “Yeah.” A few moments passed before he said, with such a soft voice it felt like a caress against Y/N’s skin, “I dunno what’s really going on in that book, to be fair, but… but I understood that. That line made sense.”

“It’s not the best book to start off on if you’re getting into Woolf’s work.”

“Yeah, alright, but I had to, didn’t I?”

“Did you?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it’s your favourite. It-“ He stopped himself, swallowing thickly as he shut the book again and kept eye contact with her. “It was a piece of you. I…” He inhaled slowly. “I didn’t know when I’d see you next- if I ever would again, and… Mrs Dalloway and Woolf just… It reminded me of you. It was a piece of you.”

Y/N wanted to walk closer to him.

“It was all those moments spent out in the field listening to you read it out loud, or just watching you while you did so. I…” He shrugged. “I might not know what’s going on in the book, but I don’t really give a fuck ‘cause if reading it will somehow bring me back to that and back to you, then I’ll bloody well do it.”

Her eyes fell to the book, biting her lips together before glancing up into his eyes again.

“I just wanted a moment. Whatever moment. A single moment with you. I’ve been so… so desperate these last few days,” he said, letting go of a small, but shaky breath. “I just wanted to be. Wanted to be with you. In whatever form, whatever I could get. Just be. Just exist in a place, in a memory, where I was in your presence.”

“Harry-“

“-And if you’re here to say goodbye… I just need this one. This moment. I just need to take it in. I just need to live with you for some seconds.”

Her lips fell apart even more and she furrowed her brow slightly. “Did you not read the letter I left with the cardigan?”

Harry pulled the book up again, tapping his finger against something resting between the cover and the first page. Was he using it as a bookmark?

“So, you read it?”

“’I’ve been knitting this all summer, it looked more like something that would fit you than me. The colours reminded me of you and how you made me feel. Love, Y/N.’”

Ignoring the fact that he had memorised the letter, she groaned slightly, scratching at her neck as she kept her eyes on the letter.

“Well… then I put one of the draft letters with the cardigan.”

Harry frowned.

“I didn’t know what I wanted to say to you, I wrote like 500 draft letters before I actually landed on something like ‘I’ll be at the Inn, please come see me’, but it doesn’t seem like I put that one in there.”

“No,” he said quickly. “You didn’t.”

“But then I saw the bouquet outside my door and Bessie said you’d dropped by. And since we hadn’t talked in days, I didn’t know what you thought of me and everything that had happened.”

“Grace told me. Dax, too.”

She just looked at him.

“Gracie told me you arrived with blood on your elbow and knee, that you helped wake me up, and Dax…” Harry sighed. “Well, he said he knew there was something going on, but he realised that, though we had been faking it, he knew then, just by watching you fuss over me and run for the lighthouse, that you actually cared about me. And he knows me well enough to just see it plainly on me that I have feelings for you, too.”

Y/N didn’t really know what to say. It was true. She cared about him. So very much. But she hadn’t thought about how it would look to Grace and Dax who had, mere hours before, heard that Harry and Y/N’s relationship had been a lie since the start.

“I… Y/N, I wanted to come to the Inn. I’ve wanted to see you ever since Friday, but Jessa wouldn’t let me out of sight and told me to rest for at least a day. And then, on Sunday, I went to the Inn but Bessie said you were out. So… I tried again today, but I wanted to make sure you knew I’d been by in case you were out again, so I left the bouquet.” His eyes fell to her hand, a small smile on his lips. “With bellflowers.”

When Y/N looked down onto her hand again where there had once been a beautiful bouquet. She remembered how she had felt flower upon flower split from between her fingers as she ran for the lighthouse, they were strewn along the path up to the lighthouse now. There was only a single one left in her hand. A bellflower.

“And I made you that cardigan,” Y/N said, looking up at him again. “It’s not perfect. There some faults here and there, a few holes, it’s a bit fucked-“

“-I don’t care,” Harry blurted out. “I like that it’s a bit fucked. I like when you can see the progress, when you can tell that someone’s struggled, but it’s turned out alright. I love it.”

Y/N couldn’t help her smile. She looked down at the flower in her hand, feeling herself clutch it a little tighter, not wanting to let it go.

“Do you…” Harry trailed off, watching her as she met his eyes again. “No, forget it.”

“No, what?”

“It’s stupid, really-“

“-Nothing’s ever stupid, Harry, what’s on your mind?”

“Well…” He shrugged his shoulders, looking down at the bellflower in her hands. “Do you remember when we were on the beach and we talked about your favourite books and started to discuss whether or not destiny is real?”

There was no hesitation before Y/N nodded, remembering every single moment of this past summer in vivid detail.

“You said you believe balance and energy, that you get what you deserve based on what you’ve done, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And I believe that the universe brings us someplace or something ‘cause it’s already got this perfectly sculptured plan for us, where we’re supposed to end up.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve thought about that conversation these past few days, ‘cause…” He thought for a few seconds, finding his words. “I think we got what we deserved.”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

“We lied to everyone. We lied to people we love, to ourselves, and… the universe didn’t want us to lie. It didn’t want us to fake it.”

She tightened her hold on the bellflower, more wind blowing past them where they stood at the top of the lighthouse, the lamp shining its familiar sequence above them.

“Y/N, we’ve done it all wrong. We got what we deserved ‘cause we didn’t do it right.”

“What are you saying?”

“Our theories? You with your energy and balance and me with destiny? It’s all connected, don’t you understand?”

She just looked at him, too awestruck to think clearly.

“You’re right, we did the universe wrong so it got back at us by having our worlds fall apart around us last Friday. And destiny… well, we met and we did it wrong.”

“Then what would’ve been the right way?”

“To never have initiated the fake relationship at all. We should never have done it.”

A small pang of hurt erupted in Y/N’s chest and she furrowed her brows slightly. “Then we wouldn’t have really met each other, though.”

“But we would’ve. I ran into you; I shouldn’t have asked you to be my fake girlfriend. If I had just asked you out…” Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Who the fuck am I kidding? I wouldn’t have done that; I was way too nervous around you then.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and she hoped Harry couldn’t tell how flustered she was.

“It was wrong of us to do it.”

“It wasn’t.”

“But it was, Y/N,” Harry said. “’Cause… it was never fake. Not really. We pretended to be a couple, but… it was never fake, not for me. My feelings for you, they’re not, and have never been, fake or a lie.” He took a small step forward, lips parted for a moment before he spoke again. “Every time I’ve touched you, or done something affectionate, or acted like someone who might be in love with you, it’s because I was. I am.”

A breath left her lips and her heart beat out of her chest, a rush of ecstasy flowing through her veins so quickly it made her dizzy with happiness.

“I’m in love with you. I… I’m so immeasurably in love with you, Y/N, that every moment without you, or any moment when I don’t have you close to some capacity, is insignificant. Woolf is right about that. Everything is much more important, I feel so much more than I did before you, all my senses are heightened, but I feel the most for you. It’s been like that for a while now.”

Y/N walked over to him, eyes on his before she looked down at the bellflower between them. “I didn’t…” She bit her lip for a second. “I didn’t really know what love was till I came to St Ives. I knew what it was to kind of love someone, I know that… to some degree I love my mum. I cared about Dominic, and I even loved Dad when I was little.” She glanced up again. “But I’ve never felt love like this. I’ve never been on the receiving end, never loved as much as I’ve done this summer. I feel so full of it. You know when you fill a bucket or a glass or anything with water, and the second it pours over the brim, the water envelopes it? That’s how this summer has felt.”

Harry smiled a little, his right dimple showing.

“You showed me what it means to love and be loved in return, that is what we’re put on this planet to do. What is life if you’re not loved and you don’t love?”

He just looked at her, eyes tracing her face and taking in each one of her features.

“It was never fake, Harry. Never.” The smile on his face disappeared and a shaky breath slipped from between his lips. “I’ve been falling in love with you all summer. I didn’t even realise how hard and fast it had happened till you kissed me at Porthgwidden Beach,” she said. “Even… Even if you kissed me just for show.”

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head quickly before he looked at her again, not sure if he’d heard her correctly. “What?”

“You kissed me-“ She stopped herself, tilting her head at him. “You kissed me to show off that we were a couple… right?”

“No, I didn’t,” he said. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? Everything I’ve ever done has never been for show. Nothing was a lie. I wanted to kiss you at Porthgwidden. I had wanted to kiss you for a while.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Y/N, I always want to kiss you,” Harry admitted. “Always.”

She couldn’t help her slight smile. “Nothing was for show?”

“Nothing.”

“Everything was real?”

He looked down, finger tracing the petals of the bellflower in her hand. “We’re real, flower. Our feelings are real.”

“Then… if you always want to kiss me,” Y/N said, voice low and filled with purpose. He looked up at her quickly. “Why aren’t you kissing me right now?”

Another breath left Harry’s lips and he ended up just staring at her. The entire summer flashed before them as their eyes drifted from each other’s eyes to their lips and back up again. Them running into one another, going to Grace’s birthday, the kamayan on the beach, and everything that followed. Her reading to him in the grass, looking up every now and again to catch him watching her, a tinge of pink on his cheekbones as he looked away, doing his best to hide his smile which in turn made it impossible for Y/N to hide hers. Everything passed between them in those seconds where Y/N waited for him to kiss her. It was a whole summer of miscommunication, wrong-doings, and making up for mistakes, everything had come to this.

Harry raised his hand, slowly sliding his thumb over her cheek before he settled his fingers at the nape of her neck. They leaned into one another, resting their foreheads together and for a little moment, they just stood there. She let him hold onto her as she moved to slide her hands up his back, still holding onto the bellflower. Y/N glanced upward, the lamp of the lighthouse turning on. Seeing the light, she felt peace run through her. This was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Looking back at Harry, her eyes lingered on his lips before she met his eyes again. With that, he leaned in, and pressed his lips softly against hers. The light overhead turned on again and Y/N knew, without a shadow of a doubt, this was home. The taste of Harry’s lips, his hands on her neck and hips, his breath against her cheek; just having him in her presence, that was where she belonged.

They detached their lips for a short second, eyes meeting. “You’re staying?” he asked.

“I’m staying,” she answered. “If you want me to.”

There was a slight pause where they just looked at one another. She saw a smile form on Harry’s lips before he leaned in again, kissing her more fiercely. She felt his smile against her lips, making her smile back, unable to help herself. Harry tried to widen their lips so his tongue could trace hers, but their smiles were too wide, and their teeth ended up sliding against one another, making Y/N laugh and Harry giggle. They opened their eyes again, just looking at one another and smiling until they calmed down, kissing one another again.

This time, Harry managed to open their mouths in unison, tongues gliding against one another, and they were finally able to taste one another again. Nothing else mattered as they drew out the kiss, letting the heavenly rush that was going through their bodies in that moment take over completely. They were buzzing with electricity, shining like a star where they stood joined together. Y/N was sure that the lamp inside the lighthouse could go out, and her and Harry would light up the entire world and guide everyone who needed help, home.

She slung her arm around his neck, the hand clutching the bellflower rested on his shoulder and they deepened the kiss. It was the happiest moment of her life, standing there, at the top of the lighthouse, with Harry. There would be nothing like this ever. Everything had led to this. It was as Harry had said, everything else was so much more colourful now, but so insignificant in comparison to him, to this. How had she ever thought she’d live a life without him in it?

“You can spend the night,” Harry said once they had regained their breaths. “We don’t have to do anything; I just want you to stay here with me.”

She smiled at him, letting go of a breathy chuckle. “I’ll stay the night.”

He smiled back, kissing her temple. “I just want you as close as possible.”

She turned her face and pressed her lips against his again, closing her eyes and melting into him again. He gripped her face gently, pulling her to him and moaning softly against her, his wet lips making a hot shiver run up her spine that absolutely no one but Harry had been able to conjure. An early autumnal wind blew past them and though it was a cold breeze, Y/N felt herself radiate warmth. They giggled against one another when they realised they had completely forgotten where they were, the plans from earlier about going downstairs.

Harry took Y/N’s hand and the two walked back down the stairs, Harry carrying Mrs Dalloway and Y/N the bellflower. Once they reached the cottage, Y/N walked straight over to the kitchen and found a small glass she could put the flower in, and once it was filled with some water, she put it on the dining table, smiling a little at it. Harry walked over and sat down in the windowsill Y/N had spent countless hours studying for her UCAT, he watched her as she marvelled at the bellflower, studying it in the dim light of the cottage.

“What’ve you been up to the past few days?” Harry asked as Y/N sat down by the dining table.

“Been knitting that,” she said, nodding in the direction of the cardigan Harry was still wearing. “And I had a chat with Mum.”

Harry paused for a few seconds, letting the words Y/N had just uttered sink in. “You… You talked?”

“Yeah.”

“Did your parents and-“ Harry made a grimace as if saying the name made him ill. “Dominic show up unannounced again?”

Y/N tried not to smile. “No, I asked Mum to meet me.”

“Oh.” Harry nodded his head some, letting the words sink in. “Alright.”

“I just wanted to make it very clear that I don’t want anything to do with them again. Told her that if they came close to me or tried to meet me without letting me know and talking to me beforehand, I’ll file a restraining order or summat like that. I dunno how to do it or if the situation is, like, qualified for one-“

“-Jo will help. They work for a law firm; they’ll know what to do.”

“I’d appreciate that very much.” She sighed. “If Jo and the rest of St Ives will ever truly forgive what we did.”

Harry’s eyes fell to his hands in his lap, letting some silence settle between them before he said, “Yeah, Jessa wasn’t impressed.”

There had not been a moment prior to this when Y/N had felt angrier and more ashamed of herself. Out of everyone she had met in her life up until that point, and probably forever, Jessa was one of the most accepting and kindest people she had ever met. The fact that she had not only disappointed Jessa but also hurt her, made Y/N so thoroughly sad that it was hard not to scream out in anger.

“Did she…” Y/N trailed off, gesturing with her hands as Harry looked up at her again. “Did she talk to you about everything when you stayed at the farm with them that day after your hypo?”

Harry shook his head. “No. She barely spent any time with me, just told Grace to keep me company while she tended to the farm. She didn’t want to let me be alone, though. She can be mad at me, but she still can’t be that mad, you know what I mean?” Harry chuckled some. “Got the biggest heart out of anyone I know, Jessa does.”

Y/N smiled a little at that. “She had to know you’d be alright.”

“I heard you went up to the lighthouse to do the weather reports.”

She bit her lips together, remembering that night in vivid detail.

“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much for that.”

“You couldn’t do them, and someone had to.”

Harry chuckled. “You’re making it sound like it was dreadful.”

“It was!” He laughed even more at her exclamation. “I was proper freaking out!”

“But you did an amazing job! Everything you’ve written down is correct and I can guess then that your report was as well.”

She smiled. “I hope so.”

Harry smiled back, getting up to take the cardigan off and put it on a hanger by his dresser.

“Who did it after I left? I went back to the Inn after the 9am one.”

“Dax told me you were at the lighthouse and when he got your text saying you’d be leaving, he told me, I called Trinity House, and another lighthouse keeper off-duty came and stepped in for the day.”

“Okay, good,” Y/N said. “I was scared I just left it in the hands of no one, but I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did plenty. Thank you, genuinely.” Harry looked at the clock on the wall, letting go of a long sigh before he walked over to the lamp by his sofa, turning it off.

“I…” Y/N said, cracking the knuckle of her thumb as nervousness suddenly flooded her. She had thought about this a fair amount since the party last Friday and she felt like it had to be addressed. “The piano piece you played at the end of summer party,” Y/N started, making Harry look over at her. “It was beautiful.”

“You mean your song?”

Y/N felt lightheaded at him addressing it like that.

“It kinda just came to me throughout the summer. The first bit was just us laying in the grass and as it picks up you can kinda tell how much you begin to mean to me,” he explained. “It’s nostalgic, it’s what I was going for anyway. You don’t really know if you should be happy or sad, ‘cause the memories make you feel both at the same time.” He walked over to the foyer and locked the front door, turning the lights off, closing the door leading out there, separating them from the entrance. “Played it for Grace a couple of times and I was gonna play it for you, but… well, then everything went to shit, didn’t it?”

Y/N let out a small chuckle, looking down at her hands. “Yeah, everything fell apart all at once.”

“It did,” he agreed, turning a lamp on top of his dresser off. “But we made it, didn’t we?”

She smiled at that.

Harry paused for few seconds, looking out through the major window at the far-end wall where he had just been seated, furrowing his brows as he thought. It was as if he had just remembered something, biting his lips together as his eyes fell to the floor again. Not knowing what was on his mind, Y/N kept her mouth shut.

“I… I can’t remember much from last Friday,” he confessed, looking back up through the window. “It’s not even a blur, it’s just… it’s not there.”

Y/N just looked at him.

“Usually what happens when my blood sugar’s low. I get dizzy, start to sweat and I shake, and I’ll be very irritable, the slightest thing will tick me off.” Harry walked over to the dining table, sitting down next to Y/N. “And, if I go into a hypo, I won’t remember the hypo, or most of the moments leading up to it. I’ll just slowly jolt out of it and realise what’s happening.”

She nodded, eyes falling to his hands that were folded together on the table before him.

“I remember your family arriving and I remember being scared out of my bloody mind when I realised what was going on- when you and Bessie fucked out of the barn. I knew something was up. I kind of had a hunch as to what it was, but… I didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t.”

She wanted to reach for his hand.

“I didn’t even know who they were, you hadn’t shown me any pictures of them, so I couldn’t tell from just looking at them, but I knew. An old married pair and that… that ruddy tosser – don’t even wanna say his name – came out of that car, and I just knew. I couldn’t let you go with them.”

“I’m sorry-“

“-No,” Harry stopped her. “No, I get why you did. Didn’t wanna cause a scene, and all that.”

She nodded. “Thought it’d be better if I went, didn’t want to fight with them in front of everyone.”

Harry looked up at her. “You fought with them?”

“Not a physical fight.”

“A man can only dream.”

She laughed.

“You should’ve levelled He Who Must Not Be Named while you still had the chance.”

She grinned at him. “When I become a dentist and he’s my patient, I’ll pull all his teeth out without any anaesthetics. How ‘bout that?”

Harry smiled back. “That’ll be a right laugh.”

She giggled, looking down at his hands again.

“What happened in the car then? You had an argument?”

Biting at her bottom lip, Y/N thought about the entire car incident before looking up into Harry’s eyes again. “I told them I wouldn’t come back to Hampshire, that I wouldn’t move in with Dominic, that-“

“-They wanted you to move in with that grotesque git?!” Harry sounded flabbergasted.

She smiled a little again. “Yes, well, Mum and Dad don’t really care what I think as long as it looks good, you know.”

Harry nodded, motioning for her to continue on explaining.

“And then I told them I was doing a UCAT exam. None of them believed it or wanted me to take it, and that’s when Gracie called,” Y/N explained. “I asked Dad to stop the car so I could go back, but he wouldn’t let me out. I kind of realised that nothing would stop him. So, when I felt him stepping on the break before he was about to turn, I told them not to follow me, and I jumped out of the car.”

Harry stared at her, mouth hanging open, blinking multiple times as if he was picturing the entire thing unfold. “You…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You jumped out of their car?”

“To get to you, yeah.”

A small breath left his lips and he continued to just look, a sort of appreciation on his face that made Y/N warm with pleasure. Again, she felt an urge to reach for his hand and hold onto him, to check if he was okay. Reliving those memories in her head and talking about them, made her also revisit the feelings of dread at the news of Harry’s hypo. Just wanting to get to him, just wanting to see he was alright.

“You’re bloody mad,” he said, a breathy chuckle following his utterance. “Brilliant, but out-of-your-mind mad at the same time.”

Y/N laughed again, smiling at Harry. “Did you feel the hypo coming on?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, scratching at his jaw as his eyes fell on the dark field beyond the window beside the kitchen table. “Yeah, I usually feel them. This time around there was so much happening all at once, I didn’t really feel it till it happened. I’m usually very good at regulating my blood sugar, not had a shock like that in years.”

She leaned her elbows on the table, taking a grip of her upper arms as she watched him talk.

“I used to not want to take my insulin pens out in front of people after we had a meal out or stuff like that, it used to make me feel very vulnerable. I used to feel exposed, as if I was showing people a secret of mine that I didn’t want them in on. It was the same when I was overweight, I didn’t wear revealing or tight-fitted clothes ‘cause I didn’t want people to think I was bigger, you know what I mean? The better I could hide it from everyone else, the easier I could hide it from myself. So, I had a few hypos when I was younger.”

Two lines appeared between his brows as he thought, Y/N wanted to reach over and stroke them away.

“I think I was just so used to hiding parts of myself – big parts – that made it almost instinctive, hiding the fact that I was diabetic. I thought there was something wrong with me at first, ‘cause this would change my entire life, you know?” He let out a chuckle. “But then I went to this event thingy where I met other kids with diabetes, and I realised that it was much more common than I’d ever thought before. Not only that, but it had been stupid of me to ever hide it, to be ashamed of it. When you’re a kid, all you want is to fit in. You don’t wanna stick out or give anyone a reason to pick on you in any way. All the bullying before had really made an impact, I never wanted to experience it again, you know?” He sighed. “Some people will bully you for anything, especially those things you cannot help.”

Y/N furrowed her brows as she listened to him.

“But I was surrounded by people who made me realise that life is too short to be embarrassed, especially about things you cannot change. People who judge others for what they choose to do with their lives, are often the ones who still struggle to know who they are themselves, constantly critiquing others for their quirks and wrong-doings as if it’ll erase their own.”

Y/N smiled a little, nodding her head. “Yeah, my thighs have always been bigger,” she said. “I used to hate them ‘cause Mum would point them out and tell me I’d be wise to lose weight, but-“ Y/N shrugged. “-I like the way they jiggle when I walk, and though thigh chafing is an absolute pain, I still find them cute. It took me some time to realise that, of course. Especially when the environment around me keeps telling me they are. But I couldn’t care less, to be fair. Though it doesn’t feel like it at times, there are far more important things in life than an insignificant opinion. Big thighs save lives, do they not?”

The frown on Harry’s face has evaporated as Y/N spoke, a soft smile left in its wake. “Too right.”

Y/N smiled back.

“I love your thighs. They just-“ Harry made to reach for them, but stopped himself. Y/N laughed at him as he blinked himself out of some sort of trance.

“They what?”

“They’re pretty.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up instantly. No one had ever said that. That they liked her thighs. It only made those butterflies inside Y/N’s tummy flutter their wings even more wildly, not knowing how to properly act around Harry anymore.

“I was about to say something that would be a bit inappropriate,” Harry mumbled.

“What?”

“No, I can’t say. It’ll ruin the mood.”

“Nothing will ever ruin the mood, Harry.”

“Fine,” Harry hissed, inhaling quickly. “I just wanted to say that I really like the feel of them against my cheeks. They’re so soft. So… so soft.”

Her entire body went hot at that, because not only did it take her off guard, but she instantly remembered the feeling of his slight scruff against the inside of her thighs. Just thinking about it made her all dizzy with a need to feel it again. It all came sneaking up on her so suddenly that she was left biting her bottom lip, just looking at Harry as she clambered for things to say.

“See!” Harry exclaimed, chuckling. “Ruined the mood!”

“It just took me by surprise!”

“Right,” he laughed, getting up from the chair.

“I’m sorry for turning the lights out, it’s 9pm and I usually go to bed then. Gotta be up in about five hours.”

“Of course,” Y/N said, getting up. “We’ll… I’ll let you go to bed.”

“You’re not coming to bed?”

She just stared at him for a few moments. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“Assume,” Harry said, walking towards the bathroom.

Y/N laughed, following after him.

The two brushed their teeth together, Y/N using the toothbrush she had used the times before when she’d been there. Turns out, Harry had never thrown it out in case they would find themselves in this position multiple times. They took their time as Y/N ended up laughing at Harry, toothpaste dribbling down his chin. He told her that always happened and Y/N thought this was odd as Harry had a fairly big mouth.

Once again, he lent her a tee shirt. This time around, she only slept in that and her knickers, not really caring that Harry saw her in them as he’d seen her naked before. Harry only wore his boxers, putting on his sleep mask as Y/N picked up Mrs Dalloway where Harry had put it on the bed. Getting under the covers, she opened it on the page where he’d left off, smiling a bit to herself as she read a few passages. With a window open and most of the lights turned out except for the lamp on the nightstand, Harry got into bed with a grunt, pulling the covers over him. He glanced over at her, studying her face as she read, how her eyes flickered from word to word, line to line, paragraph to paragraph.

“Creep,” she mumbled, and Harry chuckled a little, getting into a comfortable position on his side so he could watch her.

“Read to me?” he asked, voice hoarse with on-coming sleep and Y/N found it so endearing and the question so familiar that a tingling sensation ran from her toes all the way up to the hair roots at the top of her head.

And so she did as he asked. She read from Mrs Dalloway, so softly and carefully that she almost lulled herself off to sleep. However, Harry was clinging to consciousness all he could. He would almost drift off but come back with a jolt, eyes wide open as if he tried to fight sleep, watching her lazily and intently, not daring to take his eyes off of her in case she wouldn’t be there when he opened them again. But it was only so much he could do, and, in the end, soft snores emitted from her companion, and Y/N put the book away, turning off the last light before joining Harry under the sheets.

It took her a while to fall asleep as well. She was just left staring at Harry, not really believing that this was all real. After everything that had happened these last few days, this almost seemed like a “too good to be true” ending and Y/N was nervous. She was content just being close to Harry like this, this was where she’d always wanted to be, but there was still a lot that needed to be addressed. The two of them had to talk about what would happen next, she needed to talk to everyone else, and she had to continue revising for the UCAT because it was now under a month till she was supposed to take the exam. The many thoughts and uncertain future kept her up like it had the last few nights, and Y/N wondered when she’d get a good night’s sleep.

She jolted awake some hours later, blinking up at the ceiling as Harry got up on his elbow and reached for his phone, turning the alarm off. Y/N watched as he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face to wake himself up a bit. She knew he couldn’t turn the lights on as it would ruin his night vision which he needed when he was out looking at the Stevenson Screen, so her eyes followed him as he got up from the bed and walked over to put the same outfit on that he’d worn before; his denim shorts and a pink tee shirt over it. He glanced over at Y/N, part of him must’ve realised she was awake.

“Alright?” he asked, voice hoarse from sleep and it made Y/N wake up even more. The sound of it made her all hot.

She nodded her head. “Your alarm clock just woke me up.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” Harry said, smiling a bit. “You jumped a bit.”

She smiled back as Harry gave her a small nod, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb before he walked out of the cottage and toward the lighthouse.

She wasn’t able to fall back asleep, however. She laid awake, looking up at the ceiling overhead and thinking too many thoughts all at once, her head feeling heavier than it had that entire night. It felt like she hadn’t slept at all, yet also had the deepest sleep of her life. After all, she had been with Harry this entire time, the two of them had talked everything out, they were okay, she should’ve had an amazing night sleep. But there was something that nagged at the back of her mind, something she had not been able to stop thinking about since Harry had said it just before they went to sleep.

“I really like the feel of them against my cheeks. They’re so soft. So… so soft.”

Her thighs. Soft. He liked the feel of them against him, around his face, as his head was between her legs. And then Y/N realised why her night had been so confusing and why it had been hard to fall asleep in the first place. Her body hadn’t forgotten those words. It had reacted to them while her brain had been wistfully unaware, letting it create an ache along her skin that only Harry could do something about. Taking a deep breath, Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep again.

Her mind immediately travelled back to the times before when Harry had tasted her. Whenever they had the chance to get intimate, he had always insisted on going down on her, like it was a privilege to, like he needed to. Y/N supposed it made sense, as he had told her how much he enjoyed getting his partner off, that knowing he was getting them off got him off. Seeing how hungry he truly was to make someone squirm and cry out his name, Y/N was always astounded by how true he had been to his word. He loved it. And something about that made Y/N’s entire body heat up. She found it so hot that he would do just about anything for someone else if it meant he’d help them over the edge.

Y/N’s eyes opened again, and she turned so her face was hidden in the pillow, screaming into it at how pathetic she was being. A thought had struck her, because she was sure that if she didn’t get rid of this ache now, it’d be even harder for her to fall back asleep afterward. Laying back down on her back, her eyes found the ceiling again and she rested a hand at the very bottom of her tummy. Harry wouldn’t be back for some time still, if she was quick she’d be done by the time he got back. And if she wasn’t quick and didn’t finish, she’d just excuse herself to the bathroom and finish everything quietly in there. Yes, that was a good plan.

Lifting the band of her knickers, Y/N reached down, hoisting her legs up slightly so it’d be easier for her to access all of herself. She ran a finger from her clit and down to her hole, not surprised to find wetness pooling there already. She smeared it out over herself; flicking her fingers over her bud, down to her hole again, making sure each part of her was covered in it. Continuing on like this until she basically found her core aching with a need for her to finish, Y/N started focusing entirely on her bud.

She thought of Harry. Thought of how he had looked while he ate her out from behind, his green eyes peering over at her as he looked over her shoulder at him. And then next came an image of Harry laying on his back in the bed in the lighthouse bedroom, eyes shut tight and mouth in an O-shape, forehead creasing as Y/N sat down on him, taking him into her. A low and long rumble emitted from him, vibrating through her, and Y/N gasped. He was sweaty, needy, and so incredibly hot where he laid under her, completely at her disposal, that it made the room spin around her. It all happened so quickly and it was so easy for her to almost reach a peak that she found herself inhaling sharply, letting go of a moan she had not meant to let pass her lips.

And it had been the worst possible moment for her to moan as well, because the door into the cottage opened and Harry stepped inside. Y/N stopped herself immediately, laying back down as if nothing had happened. However, by the way Harry quickly closed the door and locked it, looking over at her, she was sure he must’ve either heard or seen something. None of them spoke for a moment as they just looked at one another, at a loss for words. Y/N’s entire body felt like it was burning, but this time it was from embarrassment and not from want. If someone could transport her into an alternate dimension where she had chosen not to masturbate in Harry’s cottage while he was out doing the weather report, that would’ve been nice.

Harry’s mouth opened and closed again as he took his shoes off, still not stepping further into the cottage than the foyer. The silence was deafening, and Y/N wanted to scream. Couldn’t he just say something? He already knew partly what she had been doing according to how pink and flabbergasted he was, the least he could do was say something. Y/N didn’t mind him hearing or seeing her. In fact, she quite liked the idea. But she hadn’t intended to make Harry uncomfortable or make him not want to come back to bed.

“Uhm…” Harry said, clearing his throat as he scratched at the back of his neck. “Do you… I can…” He let his arm fall to his side. “I’ll go sleep in the lighthouse if you want some-“

“-No,” Y/N interrupted him. “I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed… I didn’t mean…” But she, like Harry, didn’t really know what to say. What was the right thing to say in a situation like this?

“I’ll step outside if you want to finish.”

“No, I-“ Y/N couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. This whole thing was so awkward and could’ve been so easily prevented. “-It’s fine. You can come back here to bed if you want to sleep next to me.”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t think there’s anywhere I’d rather be, to be honest.”

Y/N bit her lips together, wiping her fingers on her thigh before she positioned herself on her side again. She watched as Harry too his tee shirt off, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought for a few seconds. He didn’t look at her as he asked, “Did you finish, then?”

Y/N felt like she was on fire again, looking away from Harry as he unbuckled his denim shorts. “No, but it’s-“

“-Would you let me give it a try?”

She blinked, meeting his eyes. “Pardon?”

“Let me try to make you finish.” He got into bed with her, not taking his eyes off of her. “Please?”

A chill went up her spine and her centre began to ache painfully again. Not knowing what she was doing till she was doing it, Y/N nodded. Harry removed the covers from over her and Y/N got cold at once, but the sight of Harry’s eyes travelling down her body made her forget about the lack of the duvet at once. He leaned in, kissing her lips softly. It was a lazy sort of kiss, their mouths opening up for one another slowly and their tongues tangling, their lips getting wet and small whimpers emitted from their mouths as the make out session was dragged out. Suddenly, Harry started kissing down her jaw and neck, over her breasts that were covered in his tee shirt and down her body.

“What were you thinking about while you were getting off?” Harry asked, crawling further down the bed until his face rested just above the place she needed him. She was still on her side, Harry resting his head on her right thigh while she was holding up her left one as not to rest it on his head, she’d suffocate him for sure.

“You,” she answered simply, and Harry groaned against her skin, vibrating through her entire body, and especially her clit that was already sensitive from Y/N’s earlier try.

Harry hooked his fingers around the hem of her underwear, moving his head as to get it off, but he didn’t move it past her knees.

“Don’t move these,” he said, gesturing at her underwear. “Want to feel your thighs tight around me.”

“When you were under me, that first time we had sex,” she continued to explain.

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, kissing her folds that were now exposed to him. Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking down at him where he was almost hidden between her legs. “Liked that?”

“Love it when you’re needy.”

Harry kissed her again, making Y/N gasp slightly. “Then you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve thought about you, too.”

She froze a bit, looking down at him.

“Gotten off to the thought of you. A bit of a sad wank after we shagged in the car. Bloody fucking hell,” Harry said, sounding breathless. “When you wrapped your hand around my throat… so fucking hot.”

Harry didn’t wait for Y/N to say anything however because he ran his tongue over her and she immediately moaned, her left leg shaking as the impact rocked through her. Harry buried himself there between her legs, drawing out his licks over her until he focused solely on her clit. He sucked and Y/N’s eyes fluttered close. It hadn’t been far from climax when she had tried to get herself off earlier, it was embarrassing how quickly she would come now. However, as Harry continued to suck on her and make noises as if he was enjoying himself immensely, having the meal of his life, Y/N didn’t quite care. She was losing her mind as it was, feeling Harry’s tongue and mouth on her again, a sensation she had missed.

She felt Harry’s scruff against her skin and though it tickled some, she welcomed this feeling. She couldn’t come up with a number high enough if she were to say how many times she had thought about being in this position with Harry again. Before Harry, Dominic hadn’t bothered going down on Y/N much, and this hunger of Harry’s, his desire to make her come and scream while she did, was in such drastic contrast that it was almost laughable. Harry would not rest till he knew she had had a mind-blowing orgasm, while Dom had never even asked her if she finished. She often had to do the job herself with him, but with Harry, he was the one doing that for her.

“Oh, God,” she moaned as Harry wrapped his lips around her bud again, sucking her deliciously.

She reached down, taking Harry’s hair in her hands, and biting her lips as she let out another moan. He was working hard on making this one an orgasm to remember, she could feel it. As an electric shock ran through her, making her gasp for breath, her left leg fell onto Harry’s face. About to lift it again, she heard a sound of contentment from down there. Harry liked it. He liked the feeling of her thighs around him, suffocating him almost. Another thrill ran through Y/N at the thought.

“Harry,” she gasped, her grip on his hair tightening, he hummed against her in response.

She clung to him, the feeling of fire hot tension in her core was starting to reach that point where it’d burst, and Y/N was making more and more noise the nearer it drew. Harry held onto her, slipping two fingers into her while he continued to eat her out, looking up every now and again to look at her. At the feeling of his fingers, Y/N gasped again, crying out his name as hot pleasure erupted from her core and all throughout her body, making every cell aware of what was soon to happen.

“Couldn’t sleep just now,” Harry admitted between licks and sucks. “After our chat, all I kept thinking about was the taste of your sweet cunt and your thighs around me as I eat you out.”

Y/N moaned in response, dizzy with approaching bliss.

The wet sucking sounds of Harry’s lips as well as his fingers now, almost echoed throughout the room. Something that before would’ve disgusted her previous partner, but something that made her current partner, and herself, highly aroused. She pulled at his hair as he sucked on her again, picking up the pace of his fingers, and making it hard for Y/N not to cry out yet again. She felt it then. Just there. A little bit out of reach.

“Come on, baby,” Harry said against her, voice husky. “Come loud and nice for me now.”

Y/N gasped again, Harry’s words taking her off guard. However, it didn’t take long after that. He wrapped his lips around her and sucked more forcefully this time around, making the world around Y/N shatter completely. She gasped and moaned and cried out Harry’s name as she came. Fires licking at each of her organs, making it hard for her to breathe as Harry got out from between her thighs. He got up instantly to get her something to clean up with, not letting her do it himself. As she calmed down, biting her lips as Harry laid down next to her, she saw the small start of a grin. Before she could ask what he was thinking about, Harry spoke.

“I’ve been running low on vitamin P these last few days.”

Y/N was silent for a moment before she understood, then she just looked at him. Of course. “Don’t say it.”

“Vitamin pussy.”

Y/N brought her hands up to her face to hide it from view as they both laughed. It had been such a stupid joke after such a serious and hot moment spent together that neither of them could help themselves. It was exactly what Y/N had expected from Harry and she loved it, even though it was the stupidest joke she had ever heard. Harry’s phone went off, and Y/N wondered if it was 6am already, though that wouldn’t make sense as it at just been 3. Harry sat up, looking at his phone and bringing it up to the sensor on his upper arm, clicking his tongue.

“Seems eating you out didn’t work to get my blood sugar up, it’s still low.”

Y/N laughed again, feeling a pain in her ribs as she looked up at Harry.

“I’ll go eat something ‘cause your cunt’s clearly not sweet enough, and I’ll be back for cuddles-“

“-Hey!”

“I can’t cuddle now, my blood sugar-“

“-Thought you said earlier that my cunt’s sweet.”

Harry grinned down at her, kissing her forehead. “Can’t imagine myself living without the taste of you.” And then he got up, walking over to his kitchen to make himself a toast.

Next time she woke was a little after nine when Harry returned to the cottage after another report, trying to be as quiet as possible as he made a quick brew of coffee. She opened her eyes slowly and just watched him, finding herself smiling at the sight of him standing there in the pale morning sun. He wandered over to the sofa once he had his cup, flicking through the newspaper before him and taking his time before he had to start on a new day around the Clodgy grounds. Y/N let him sit there by himself for a while, understanding that he just needed to properly wake up and relax after a night of reporting and working.

Once he was done with his coffee and closed the newspaper before him, Harry glanced over at Y/N, stopping a little when he saw her already looking at him.

“Morning,” he said, voice still a bit groggy with sleep as he hadn’t talked much still. He cleared his throat. “I, uhm…” He looked at the coffee cup, mouth open as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” He nodded, eyes landing on her again, giving her a small smile before he picked up the coffee mug and walked over to the dishwasher with it. “You want some coffee?”

“I’m good, thanks, though.”

“No problem.”

She continued to just watch him, the tiniest of smiles on her face. Harry walked about the kitchen, looking through his fridge before he rummaged through the bowl of fruit on the counter. It seemed he was busying himself as he tried to find the right words to say, stopping a few times when he thought he had it, but then starting up his hunt again.

“How’d you sleep then?”

Y/N’s smile widened, still feeling Harry’s stubble where it had been between her thighs only hours beforehand. “Great, and you?”

Harry glanced over at her, smiling as well now. “Been a while since I’ve slept that well, to be honest.”

She giggled, sitting up in bed. She noticed his eyes flickered to her chest where she was sure her nipples were visible through her shirt. His cheeks flared and he looked away before meeting her eyes again. “Same here.”

His cheeks got redder and he couldn’t help his little smile. “Right.”

She smiled, stretching where she sat in the bed. “I feel like I need a shower. Might pop by the Inn-“

“-No, you can-“ Harry didn’t finish that sentence, instead he gestured at the bathroom with a little nod, biting his lips together. “I’ll… I’ll go outside and do some chores.”

Y/N nodded, getting up from the bed. “If you’re sure.”

“You don’t even have to ask, Y/N.”

That sent a shiver up her spine and her smile widened. “I still want to make sure. You never know when you’re stepping over a line or summat.”

“Not here, never here.”

It was incredible how much Harry made her feel at once. His words made her warm with adoration, but they also made her want to run over to him and rip his clothes off. She just wanted to be close to him, to physically touch him all over again. It had been so long since she’d felt his skin, kissed him, even though it had only been last night, and she longed for it all again. She missed being close to him, missed feeling him take over each one of her senses. The feeling of him being all around her, paralysing her and making her feel full of nothing but peace and love. Was there anything that felt better than that? Than not being able to do anything anywhere completely with someone because you were so in love with them it consumed you? Wasn’t the feeling of someone you were utterly, truly in love with feeling the same way about you, wanting to be with you like you wanted to be with them? How lucky hadn’t they been to have found each other and fallen at the same time.

Y/N walked over to the bathroom, watching Harry where he was stood by the foyer. She hadn’t expected to blurt it out like she did. In fact, in retrospect, she wasn’t sorry she had suggested it, but she knew that it had taken both her and Harry off guard. However, it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t opened her mouth either. Something they both would have regretted.

“Do you wanna come?”

Harry blinked a few times as if he was certain he hadn’t heard her right.

“In the shower?”

His mouth fell open slightly and he continued to just look at her, for a second looking like he thought she was taking the piss.

“If you’re busy you don’t have to, but the offers there-“

“-Y-You want me to come-“ Harry stopped himself, furrowing his brows. “You want me to come in the shower with you?”

“Yeah, unless you’re busy. I know-“

“-No, I…” Harry inhaled slowly. “No, I want to. I’ll come.”

Y/N smiled at him, opening the bathroom door as butterflies swarmed around in her stomach. It had been a while since she’d seen him naked, and even that had been in the dark of the bedroom in the lighthouse. Now, in the pale morning light, she’d get to see all of him. And he’d get to see all of her; chunky thighs, cellulite, and the mole on the inside of her right thigh. She didn’t mind him seeing her naked.

Y/N stepped inside, looking at the shower and the small window at the top of the wall, letting some natural sunlight stream into the bathroom. Harry followed after her, closing the door after him and standing there behind her, watching her as she studied the pale yellow sunbeams make it through the window. Slowly, she turned around, looking over her shoulder at Harry and keeping eye contact till they stood face to face. He was still watching her, studying her face and her body, taking his time and clearly trying not to make her feel uncomfortable at him taking her in like this. Reaching for the hem of Harry’s tee shirt, she brought it over her head and let it fall to the floor beside her, feeling an undeniable heat pull towards the bottom of her tummy as Harry’s eyes fell to her exposed breasts. He was paying so close attention to her as if just being here with her, getting a chance to look at her like this, was the greatest privilege one could ask for. Y/N’s body felt hot under his stare and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling a sort of powerful only Harry was able to make erupt inside her.

He tugged his own tee shirt over his head, letting it fall not far from where she’d placed hers, his broad and tanned chest exposed to her one more time. Like he had done to her, she took her time studying him. She took in the hair travelling from his navel to below his underwear, his outlined pecks and the soft tummy underneath them. Seeing him like that, glowing in the light of the sun, had something inside her scream with anticipation. Though nothing was set in stone to happen, she could still feel an instant intense electricity forming in the air between them.

Y/N reached for her knickers and Harry’s lips parted, inhaling sharply as if he’d just been brought back from an extraordinary trance. She pulled them down, revealing herself completely to him and the breath Harry had let enter his body just seconds before, left his lips in a shaky exhale once she stood upright again. His eyes moved over her, finally able to see all of her and in the light of day. Y/N’s heart beat hard inside her chest, looking at Harry look at her, feeling every emotion she held for him all at once. Once their eyes met, she let hers fall to his usual denim shorts, then meet his eyes again.

He understood right away, reaching for the button and the zipper, taking both his shorts and boxers off in one go. Y/N tried not to get visibly excited at the sight, but she could already see the hint of arousal on Harry, something that made the heat inside her own body intensify. Their eyes met again, and though she would’ve usually seen a slight blush across Harry’s cheeks, it wasn’t there just then. No, he seemed confident enough, ready enough, content enough not to feel embarrassed about anything.

She took a single step back before turning around, drawing the frosted shower door aside so she could step inside. Turning on the water, Y/N squealed a little as cold water came pouring down over her at first, taking a huge step to the other side of the shower so the water wouldn’t hit her. She was now standing in the open doorway into the shower, looking out at Harry who was smiling, chuckling some to herself at her instant reaction to the water. She wrinkled her nose at him before reaching her hand out, feeling at the water to see if it was a comfortable enough temperature now. When it was, she walked back over, standing under the shower head as she felt footsteps behind her on the shower floor, then the door sliding shut.

She turned around when she was fully wet, looking over at Harry as he just stood there, watching her intently. Biting her lip, she stepped aside, letting him slide past her and into the stream of the shower. She took his place, watching Harry now as he let the water run over him, a content sigh leaving his lips as if this was something he had really needed. Standing there, she wanted to reach forward and touch him. His back muscles, plump arse, and the scar on the back of his thigh. It wasn’t big, but it looked to have happened a long time ago. Maybe when he was little, having fallen off his bike or done something stupid kids often did while playing.

Harry picked up the shampoo bottle, letting her slide past him again to shampoo her hair. She waited for him to hand it over to her, but instead of putting the bottle back in her hand, Harry opened the shampoo and then put the bottle on the small sill beside the window. The small of fresh papaya wafted through the air, and a second later, she felt fingers in her hair and a hot sensation ran down her spine, resting at her core but heating up her entire body. She closed her eyes, letting the feeling of Harry take over each one of her senses. Humming contentedly, she let Harry massage her scalp, feeling herself relax completely for the first time in a long while. He pressed against her backside, not at all shy now that she felt him against her bum, harder than he had been when they undressed before one another. She felt like falling to the floor, the intensity of anything but the moment right now dissipating completely.

Something soft was pressed against her shoulder, then a bit further up towards her neck. Harry’s tender kisses sent shocks of great pleasure throughout her body, making it once again hard to remain standing. She suddenly heard some coughing and a small “ew”, and when she turned around, Harry was grimacing.

“Shampoo,” he explained, making Y/N laugh.

“You didn’t have to lick the shampoo.”

“It’s all over you now, innit?” he said, making both of them laugh again. “Was trying to be proper romantic, but fucked myself over with that one.”

“Nah, I liked it.”

“That I ate shampoo?”

She laughed. “Well, you didn’t eat it. At least not on purpose.”

He chuckled. “Real papaya tastes better than shampoo papaya. I’m a survivor of the papaya shampoo-“

“-Oh, don’t be dramatic.” She turned around, smiling over at him. “It was brave of you to go through all that for a shoulder kiss.”

“I’d go through a lot more than just eating shampoo to give you another shoulder kiss.”

Y/N laughed, getting the conditioner. She was about to put some in her hand when Harry took it from her. He shook his head, and she pretended to roll her eyes, even though she actually thoroughly enjoyed how much he wanted to take care of her. He ran his hands through her hair, making sure not to let any conditioner touch her scalp. While doing this, he planted more kisses along her jaw, even daring to kiss her neck and jawline, now not at all intimidated by the shampoo. There was simply no way not to smile and feel her entire body buzz with adoration as Harry did this.

When he stopped, he put his hands under the stream to get all the shampoo and conditioner off. Though she usually let the shampoo and conditioner stay in her hair a bit, she let it be this time around. Stepping under the stream from the shower head, she closed her eyes and rinsed her hair thoroughly. She ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes. She knew Harry was watching her and she loved that he was. The steam from the shower along with Harry’s not-so-subtly studying every single part of her naked body, made her hotter than she’d been in a while.

It happened so suddenly it made her gasp. Once she opened her eyes to look at him again, her hair free of shampoo and conditioner, Harry took the step toward her. He grabbed the back of her neck and brought her to him, kissing her fiercely. Though it had startled her at first, she melted into the kiss right away. Though they had kissed only last night, it still felt like an eternity ago, and she had missed him like this. She missed kissing him and knowing that it would lead somewhere fantastic, just like last night’s kiss had felt. Maybe that one had been even more intense than this one because it held the promise of a future, but this kiss felt very similar. This one was purposeful. They both knew there was a future now, but they had no idea where it’d go, only that in this very moment, no matter what, they wanted to spend this one moment with each other. And they wanted to take great advantage of that.

Harry pressed her against the wall, moaning into her as she gripped his back, bringing her closer to him. She tilted his head and kissed him harder, something that had a short breath leaving his nose, a slight twitch against Y/N’s core and lower belly.

“Open up for me,” she whispered against him and he did as she said without hesitation. Their tongues found one another instantly and fantastic bliss ran through Y/N’s body to the point where she completely forgot where she was. The kisses grew more frantic, wetter, deeper. She pulled away at one point, taking a grip of his hair, tilting his head so it’d fit better against hers, before she kissed him again. Harry smiled against her lips at that, getting harder against her as she took control of him, making him listen to her and what she wanted. The mere fact that this was turning him on turned Y/N on, and she continued to take the dominant role. Something both of them loved.

She lifted her leg and Harry took a grip of her knee, bringing it up to his hip. He instantly leaned more into her, his erection against her centre, making her grip on his hair tighten. Slowly, making a tingle of excitement run through her veins, Harry grinded against her. She couldn’t help her moan, begging him to do it again as she squeezed his shoulder. He did, letting a small whimper pass from his lips and into her mouth, desperate for an actual feel of her. Y/N adjusted her hips some, making it so that when Harry grinded against her hungrily the third time, a shot of pleasure erupted from her clit.

“Oh, my God,” she said, having missed the effect Harry had on her body like this.

He kissed along her neck, sucking lightly at the tip of her jaw. “You’re so hot.”

She smiled, closing her eyes as Harry kissed her collarbone. “It’s all you, you make me act like this.”

Harry stopped right above her heart, kissing her breast. “Don’t give me that sort of credit.”

She giggled. “Then what should I say?”

Harry kissed along her neck again, a thrill of ecstasy shooting straight for the spot between Y/N’s legs. “I’m not one to tell you, am I?”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, looking down at Harry and waiting for him to reach her shoulder before she uttered, “No, you’re not.”

She could tell Harry loved that, gripping her knee harder as he rested his forehead against hers. “Are you wet for me like I’m hard for you?”

She cocked her head to the side. “Why don’t you find out?”

Harry bit his bottom lip at that, she could feel his heart beating hard against his chest and against hers. She swore they beat to the same rhythm. He reached down between them, making sure to hold their eye contact as he reached for her centre, eyes hooded with lust. Once his middle and ring finger came into contact with her wetness, he let out a strangled moan. He slid his fingers over her, pushing them slowly into her and out again, making the ache of her core hurt with need. The teasing would surely kill her at one point.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he mumbled. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

“Taste me.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly, her commands making every single hair on his body stand on end in excitement. Running his fingers over her again, he pushed them into her once more, pulling them out to circle her clit. She moaned, not able to help herself, and the sound of her pleasure brought Harry his, moaning along with her. He brought his fingers up, placing them inside his mouth and keeping eye contact with Y/N as he wrapped his lips around his fingers, sucking off her juices. Finding this so hot her entire body began to ache for him, Y/N brought him to her again, kissing him hard. Once again, they lost themselves in each other’s lips, tongues, and the taste. Y/N assumed she was tasting herself on him, but it soon disappeared as the kiss deepened, becoming hungrier than any of the other kisses.

“Get a condom,” she said at last, and in his haste to do just that, Harry almost slipped on the slippery shower floor. Y/N laughed, holding onto her stomach as Harry’s life flashed before his eyes, getting out of the shower to rummage through his bathroom drawer for his condoms. He was back not long after, shielding his covered-up cock from the water as he made his way over to her, putting the lube on the windowsill.

“Think my near death is funny, do you?”

“Hilarious.”

Harry laughed at that, pressing his forehead against hers again as he got a hold of her leg, bringing it up to his hip again.

Harry’s other hand ran from her collarbone, over her chest, and down to her centre, looking into her eyes the entire time. He helped angle her right, licking his lips before meeting her eyes again, resting his forehead once again against hers. They looked down as Harry positioned himself at her opening, Y/N averting her eyes after a little while just so she could look at him when they joined together again. He glanced up at her again as well, holding onto his shaft till most of him was inside her, then gripping her hips hard. They both moaned, unable to say another word as a heavenly feeling swept over them.

A gentleness, vulnerability, warmth lingered there between them as Harry moved in and out of her at a slow pace, it was a sort of feeling that one couldn’t properly speak of, it was too powerful for that. What transpired between them as Harry pounded into her, made her arch her back, was so much more than anything that had ever existed before this. There was an emotion yet to be described, yet to be given a word, that they created as they stood there in that shower, the lazy sunbeams shining in on them and the hot shower pouring down Harry’s back. Y/N hummed in contentment as Harry’s hips met hers, loving the feeling of him there, colliding with her once again.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbled, keeping his eyes on Y/N at all times. He brought her knee further up his hips, making it easier for him to fuck her right, and while doing that, spreading her wider for him as well. At this, she moaned loudly, digging her nails into the skin of his back. With that, Harry picked up the pace a little more, their wet bodies colliding in a rough yet delicious rhythm that had the both of them gasping for breath.

Y/N felt something inside her core, something that was tensing up and making it harder for her to concentrate on much else besides the heat of it and Harry in front of her. Harry continued to rock into her, their bodies crashing hard and loud. The sound of flesh against flesh, their rapid breathing, and the occasional moan was their entire universe in those blissful minutes.

His grip on her tightened, and Y/N couldn’t help herself, letting go of a loud cry of Harry’s name, the quick strokes bringing her closer to her orgasm dangerously fast. She gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, making Harry moan loudly against her, the sort that had him gasping afterwards.

Y/N wondered how she had ever thought that Harry’s feelings for her hadn’t been genuine. She wondered how she had not seen it sooner. Not only how Harry felt for her, but how she felt for him as well. It had taken her so long just to realise that the reason why she was so protective of him, why she wanted to be near him, and why she always felt like her breath got clogged somewhere in her throat when she saw him, was because she was falling in love with him. It had crept up on her so slowly, so powerfully, that she hadn’t realised it till it was too late. But regardless, Y/N was sure that even if she had recognised that she was falling in love with Harry while it was actually happening versus how she realised after it had all happened, she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She was where she was supposed to be. Where the kindness she had sent out into the universe had brought her; where destiny had always envisioned her. With Harry. In St Ives.

She leaned forward, softly biting onto his bottom lip and it was like seeing his pupils dilate.

“Fuck me,” he mumbled, making Y/N grin.

She arched her back, the tenseness in her core tightening. The edges of her vision blurred as she watched Harry. As they came together, as they looked into each other’s eyes, Y/N knew that nothing would be better than this. She felt Harry everywhere. Felt him, smelled him, tasted him, heard him. He was everywhere all at once, and it was exactly as Y/N wanted it. She wanted him to leave more pieces of himself inside her, feel him shape her into a better version of herself, help her along the path to becoming the person she was supposed to be. There was a piece of him in each one of her molecules, and though she was sure this was an aspect of her life that would never truly dissipate, she knew Harry would always be with her. Wherever she went, whoever she was with, he had helped her on her way to discover herself, and for that she would always be grateful.

They kissed one another one more time, Y/N moaning against him as he thrust into her, this one rougher than all the ones before. Breaking away, they looked into each other’s eyes as she dug her nails into his scalp and shoulder. She came. The tenseness in her core erupted and she felt the effect like an earthquake all over her body. She was gasping, moaning, and looking into his eyes as pure bliss washed over her. The leg Harry was holding shook and it was a wonder the other one hadn’t given out from under her. She held onto him as she came down, smiling at him as if she couldn’t believe they’d just done that.

Y/N wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders, holding onto him as he pounded into her, the veins in his neck popping out. She knew he was close, saw it and felt it. As his pace picked up some more, though she was still incredibly sensitive, Y/N felt a familiar burn herself. This had never happened before, she usually needed some time to gather herself and to not be as sensitive down there before she could go for a round two, but something about today was different. She gasped as Harry hit a particular spot and he looked into her eyes, refusing to keep them close as he had that last minute.

“Harry,” she moaned, making him grab her boob, squeezing it seductively.

Suddenly, there was a sound coming from outside. The two of them had been too caught up in one another and their little moment that they hadn’t heard the approaching car. Though Y/N quickly realised what was happening, Harry continued to fuck her, oblivious until a car door closed with a bang outside in the courtyard. He removed his face from where he had rested his forehead against hers, trying to peek out of the foggy window.

“Dax,” Harry said. “Think the rest as well.”

“Everyone’s here?!” Y/N hissed. “Everyone’s outside?!”

“Looks like it,” Harry said, turning back to her. “Just-“ He put one hand over her mouth. “Be quiet.”

“I’m not the one that needs to be quiet,” she said against his palm, but her voice was muffled by him covering her mouth. “You’re loud.”

“I’m not bloody loud, what’re you talking about?” Harry furrowed his brows.

Y/N chuckled. “Who cares? Just get a move on so we can go out there.”

Harry smiled and pressed his forehead against hers again, gripping her thigh harder as he began to make as small and quick movements as possible, trying not to make any noise. His pace, his flow, felt heavenly. Her eyes fluttered shut, digging her nails into Harry’s back. By the looks of it, this exact angle and tempo was doing it for Harry as well. He looked at her as he neared his climax, doing as Y/N said and trying to keep his mouth shut and moans to a minimum. She could tell he was struggling, and she squeezed his shoulder in encouragement as he continued to barely make any noise.

“Harry?!” Dax called from the front door, walking into the cottage. More footsteps sounded behind him and Harry stopped abruptly, looking over at the door through the blurry glass of the shower door. “Mate, where are you?”

Harry and Y/N looked at one another, eyes wide as they listened for more movement outside.

“Found him, Dax, Jo?” Fatima called from outside, her footsteps along with, what Y/N could only assume, Amir and Ellie nearing the cottage.

“No, he’s not here,” Jo answered.

“Where the fuck could he have gone? Not like he’s supposed to be anywhere else, is it?” Dax asked no one in particular. “He wasn’t in the lighthouse either?”

“No, but he just did his 9am,” Amir answered.

“What the fuck, then,” Dax said. The door into the bathroom burst open and Y/N tried not to scream. Harry pressed his body against Y/N’s so Dax wouldn’t see any of her. “Haz-“ Everything was disturbingly silent for a single second before Dax realised what he must be looking at. “OH!”

“A bit preoccupied at the moment, Dax!” Harry shouted out at his best mate where he still stood in the bathroom doorway.

“Right! Sorry!” Dax slammed the bathroom door shut. Harry and Y/N looked at one another, both giggling and doing their best not to be heard by the others outside. “We’ll just fuck off outside then!”

There was a slight silence outside in the cottage till Ellie finally asked, “What’s going on?”

“Harry and Y/N,” Dax explained. “They’re in the shower.”

“What?!” exclaimed Fatima.

“In the shower, or in the shower shower?” Amir asked, it sounded like he was wiggling his eyebrows along with his question.

“Mate. No,” Jo said.

“Would you lot mind buggering off for a bit?!” Harry shouted, making a flurry of footsteps move hastily towards the front door. They could all be heard outside, chatting excitedly and fast. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, making Y/N laugh.

“Right,” Harry said, bringing her leg higher up as to get better access. She gasped. “Where were we?”

She bit her lips, grinning at him. Harry started at the same pace as before, fucking her quickly and with small movements as not to be heard, not sure how well the sound of their wet bodies slamming together would carry. Y/N reached for the lube, making Harry let out a small breath as if he had completely forgotten about it, but appreciated that Y/N had. Once again, she had to angle herself so best to access his bum, and when she did, she slid her fingers slowly into him.

“Fuck,” Harry hissed.

He continued with his small and quick movements as to make it easier for Y/N to keep her fingers in. She curled them slightly upward, watching as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Y/N,” he moaned, voice trembling slightly. She kept her fingers like that, feeling that, with each of Harry’s movements, he ignited the fire inside, making her heat up all over again. Harry’s whimpers got more frequent and desperate, not fully knowing what to do with himself as his orgasm got closer and closer.

“Come on, baby,” she mumbled, and that was all it took. Her calling him that. Finally, Harry was brought towards climax. He came looking into Y/N’s eyes, everyone and everything else completely forgotten as he filled the condom, moaning her name and gripping her body harder. She had felt the oncoming second orgasm herself, and though she hadn’t thought Harry would’ve noticed her like that, he had.

“I can go down on you,” he offered, pulling himself out of her. “We can-“

“-No,” Y/N laughed. “They’re waiting for you.”

“For us,” Harry corrected her, getting up as he had hunched down, ready to make her come a second time. “They’re waiting for us.”

Y/N smiled at him, stroking his cheek as he stood before her. He leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips as they relished in the last of their moment together.

“I’ll make it up to you later,” he said against her lips, making Y/N’s tummy, which was already filled with butterflies, tickle with anticipation.

“I’ll just wash up.”

“Alright, I’ll wait.”

Harry dried himself off as quickly as possible, running out into the living room to get a new pair of boxers and jeans along with Y/N’s dress and jumper. He put on his underwear and jeans, then picked up the tee shirt Y/N had been wearing the bed the night before, making a note to sniff it in front of Y/N just so he could watch her laugh at him. She got dressed as well, suddenly filled with dread for what was waiting for them outside. Once in the foyer, Harry pulled her closer, kissing her one more time, smiling against her. She giggled, kissing him again before they both turned to the door and walked outside.

Everyone was sat on the grass beside the lighthouse, not too close to the cliff, but close enough so that the wind was rather harsh. As Harry and Y/N approached, Fatima looked over her shoulder, smiling at them before she alerted the others, making them all stand up. Y/N felt a tenseness in her chest, terrified of what would happen the second they started chatting. She hadn’t forgotten the look of hurt on Dax’s face, or how hurt Fatima had been, or how Jo looked between Harry and Y/N, refusing to believe what they were saying was true.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Harry asked once they were close enough to talk.

Amir’s eyes fell on Y/N, giving her a smile before he looked at Harry. Jo opened their mouth, crossing their arms over their chest. “Think you got some explaining to do. Both of you.”

Harry looked at Y/N who glanced back at him, but she quickly stared at the others, feeling her hands go all clammy.

“Well,” Harry started, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s… it’s probably what you think.”

“What’s that?” asked Dax.

“I’m in love with Y/N,” Harry said, as if it was the simplest and most profound fact of the world. “And she’s in love with me.”

Dax looked between them, studying each of their faces. “Alright,” he said, pausing for two seconds. “Why bother lying, then?”

“That’s… That’s not a lie.”

“I didn’t mean lie about that, why did you have to lie about being a couple when you were on your way to become one in the first place?”

Harry furrowed his brows. “It’s not that simple, though. We didn’t know we’d end up caring for one another like that when we first met.”

“Dax,” Fatima said, raising her eyebrows at him. “I know you’re hurt Harry lied to you-“

“-Nah, I’m not hurt. I’m fuming.”

Harry let out a huff. “Thought you were over it, mate.”

“But I’m not.” Dax looked Harry dead in the eyes. “Look, I’m happy for you. Genuinely, I am. You more than anyone else deserve to find love, especially when that someone you fall in love with is Y/N, yeah? But…” Dax trailed off, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still hurt that my best friend lied to me. I tell you everything, Haz.”

“I wanted to tell you, Dax. Really.”

“But?”

“But you love to gossip, mate! You’re just like your mum!”

“I wouldn’t have told people about this, Harry.”

Harry sighed. “Listen, be mad, yeah? Take your time to be mad. I’m sorry.” He looked at all his other friends as well. Amir, Fatima, Jo, Ellie. “I’m sorry for lying about this. It was a stupid thing to lie about, but I was desperate and before either of us really knew what was going on, we were just fake dating.”

Ellie nodded along, smiling a little at both Y/N and Harry’s wet hairs. “But you’re not fake dating anymore… right?”

Harry smiled as well, looking at Y/N. “No.”

“Aww, you two!” Fatima exclaimed.

“We haven’t discussed it yet, she told me yesterday that she won’t leave St Ives, so…” Harry shrugged, holding up his hand to stop Fatima, Amir, Ellie and Jo from celebrating. “It’s not official.”

“But you fancy each other, yeah?” Amir grinned. “That’s enough, innit?”

“So it’s really not fake this time?” Dax asked, looking at Harry as he spoke. “You’re genuinely in love?”

“Mate,” Harry said, a red colour crossing his cheekbones. “You just saw us shagging in the shower.”

Jo howled with laughter and Ellie giggled, looking over at Fatima who was having trouble holding Amir up as he was pretending to faint from shock. Even Dax had trouble not laughing at that, a single chuckle escaping his lips as he studied Y/N and Harry who were both flustered, hair still a mess from just having gotten out of the shower. Harry took a step closer to Y/N, nudging her with his hips. Once their eyes met, Y/N was taken back to their shared moment in the shower, blushing furiously again.

“Alright,” Dax said, smiling at them. “I guess I was just offended.”

“Don’t make this about yourself, bruv,” Amir said, walking over to stand between Y/N and Harry, flinging his arms over their shoulders. “Everything’s back to normal, innit?”

“Well, a new normal,” Harry pointed out. “We still have to figure out a lot of things.”

“Ah, well, that’ll come easy,” Amir smiled. “Bottom line, for us, nothing’s really gonna change. We always thought you were together, and now you’re actually together.”

Y/N looked over at Fatima who shrugged, clearly agreeing with her cousin.

Amir patted them each on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “We came here to check if Harry was alright. Haven’t heard from you in a couple of days, mate.”

“No, I’ve…” Harry’s eyes flickered over to Y/N before he met Amir’s eyes again. “Been a bit… well, sad.”

“That’s okay,” Amir said. “You feeling better now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry smiled, looking at Y/N again. “Loads.”

“Wicked.” Amir gave Harry a pat on the back. “Pub, anyone?”

“It’s not even noon,” Fatima said, raising her eyebrows at Amir.

“Who cares? Everyone’s about to go back to their everyday lives, think we should just spend a day doing nothing in particular, don’t you?” Amir looked around the ground with his mouth agape in anticipation.

“Actually,” Harry said, looking apologetically at Amir. “Y/N and I gotta go to the farm real quick.”

Amir’s face fell. “Why?”

“We just need to talk to Jessa, Gracie, lolo, and uncle Timmy. You know…” Harry motioned with his arms before him. “About what Y/N and I did.”

“Ahh!” Amir gave Harry’s back a pat, nodding his head. “Yeah, alright.”

Y/N’s heart fell again. She hadn’t even thought of that. They would have to face Jessa and Grace as well, and apologise for what they had done. Y/N wouldn’t be mad at Jessa if she didn’t forgive her or Harry for this. After all, they had lied to her all summer, not thinking that they’d end up actually falling in love with one another in the end.

“You’ll pop by later, then? Balcony?” Dax asked, Harry nodding as an answer that they would. “Wicked! See you in an hour or summat then.”

Y/N and Harry watched as the others made their way over to Dax’s car, Amir jumping onto Jo’s back and Ellie laughing her ass off when Jo almost face-planted from the unexpected impact. Harry walked over to Y/N, raising his eyebrows slowly as if to ask

Hadn’t been there since everything had happened. This was where her family had shown up and where Dominic had dragged Harry to the ground. The thought made her sick. Her family had all been here and she had let them treat Harry like that. Taking a deep breath, Y/N just looked at the farm, feeling as if she should just turn back around and walk away from it all. She didn’t deserve to be close to Jessa, or Grace, or lolo-

“Flower?”

She looked at Harry who was watching her with big eyes.

“You alright?”

“No. Not really, no.”

Harry nodded slightly. “Yeah, it’s… I mean, it’s gonna be alright. I know it is. But Jessa… Blimey, I hate disappointing Jessa.”

“Has she given you a hard time before for disappointing her?”

“Yeah, and it was just as you can expected it to,” Harry chuckled. “She would give me the cold shoulder and make me feel bad till I finally gave in and apologised.”

“Oh, my word, Harry, we should’ve done this sooner-“

“-We weren’t on speaking terms then, were we?” Harry reasoned. “We have spent days trying to talk, and now we have. We’ve always needed to do this together. Don’t think it would’ve been completely alright till you came with to apologise as well, Jessa wouldn’t think so.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I-“

“-Harry?”

They both turned to look at Jessa as she walked out of the hen house, lolo’s straw hat on her head and walking slowly, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

“Y/N?”

Hearing Jessa say her name was surreal, especially after everything. She didn’t sound mad; she didn’t sound disappointed. In fact, she just sounded confused, as if the sight before her was the most peculiar yet familiar thing in the world. Not wanting to postpone this any longer, Y/N started walking towards the farm, Harry following close behind her. As they walked through the gate, Jessa stopped walking, holding onto her basket filled with eggs as she watched them move to her. The door to the main house opened, Grace and lolo along with Tim stood there, eyes on Harry and Y/N as they stopped in front of Jessa. They were sure the others could hear them, Grace even walked a little closer as if she wanted to run to Harry and Y/N, but stopped herself as she noticed they were directing all their attention at Jessa.

“How are you feeling?” Jessa asked Harry, eyes scanning him from head to toe. “Not had any other hypo situations?”

“No,” Harry answered quickly. “No, I’ve been alright.”

Jessa nodded, eyes falling on Y/N. “They’ve gone back to Hampshire?”

Jessa didn’t have to say who she was talking about for Y/N to understand completely. The chat she had with Jessa Tuesday the week before still fresh in her mind. Y/N nodded as an answer to Jessa’s question. “They left a few days ago.”

“Good,” Jessa answered curtly. “Didn’t like them. Quite rude of them to just show up to a party like that unannounced.”

“Yeah, they’ve never much considered other people’s feelings.”

A small smile flickered over Jessa’s lips. “No, I could tell.”

Y/N smiled back a little, looking up to meet Harry’s eyes. She could tell he was about to speak, but she beat him to it, whipping her head in Jessa’s direction again. “We’re so sorry.” She glanced at Grace, lolo, and Tim as well. “So sorry.”

Harry looked away from Y/N at the others. “It’s all my fault.”

“Harry-“

“-No, Y/N, it is.” Harry let out a huge sigh, meeting Jessa’s eyes. “I’m sorry, nanay. I’ve always told you everything. Always. But you were fussing so much about how I was lonely at Clodgy, something I wasn’t. I was perfectly okay up there by myself, I like my own company. Ever since Emilia… well, I like being alone. But… But…” Harry stopped, growing red in the cheeks. “You know… I thought if I pretended to have a girlfriend, you’d get off my back a bit.” He let out a chuckle. “I should’ve known better, though. You just want what’s best for me, so you want to know every detail of everything.”

Jessa was eerily silent, not moving an inch.

“And I know it was a fucking daft move, alright? Well out of line for me to lie about something like that, a-and… and…” Harry looked down at Y/N. “And especially stupid of me to drag Y/N into it. She had no idea what she did when she went along to pretend to be my girlfriend on Fore Street that day.”

“Hang on,” Grace said, frowning. “We met Y/N on Fore Street.”

“Yeah, that was the first time I met Y/N myself.”

“That same day?” Tim asked.

“Yes.”

“And you just asked someone to me your fake girlfriend to further your lie?” Tim still sounded confused. Y/N’s palms were getting clammy.

“Y-Yes.” Harry nodded his head. “It’s entirely my fault.”

“Harry, no.” Y/N looked up at him. “I helped.”

“It wasn’t your idea, was it?”

Y/N was about to protest, said that it didn’t matter, but Harry went on.

“I went to the Inn to tell Y/N not to worry about this fake relationship of ours, ‘cause… I couldn’t keep it from you, Jessa. I couldn’t lie to you like that.” Harry sighed again. “But you had already told everyone, so we would’ve looked well stupid to just tell everyone that we lied, it wasn’t true, we weren’t a couple.”

“As opposed to everyone finding out at the party last Friday that it had been fake all this time?” Jessa asked, making both Harry and Y/N shut up.

A small silence stretched out then, when the only sound they heard was the wind blowing through the trees around them and the hens in the hen house. Y/N looked around at everyone before her, trying to see all of their reactions. No one spoke for what felt like a century, and it was hard to see what any of them thoughts because panic was starting to rise within Y/N. Did they all hate her? No one was saying anything, did they really detest her? What her and Harry had done, they’d never forgive them, would they? Y/N felt lightheaded, sure that she had never been anticipating an answer from someone as much as she was anticipating these people before her.

Suddenly, Jessa took a small step forward, her head cocked and eyes flicking between Y/N and Harry. She looked thoughtful, though no anger could be detected on her face.

“You know,” Jessa started, clutching the egg basket a little closer to her. “I never once doubted you two weren’t an item. Not once.”

Harry’s cheeks got redder, eyes falling to the ground.

“But I don’t think that’s something to be embarrassed about, Harry,” Jessa said, voice very soft all of a sudden and Y/N felt like crying. “I could tell there was something between you two that I hadn’t seen between you and Emilia, Harry. After Emilia left,” Jessa said, looking at Y/N now. “Harry was very sad at first, but I had never seen him as happy as that time after all that mourning. He was so, so happy. Just as he deserved. Wasn’t easy, losing his father… or my husband, like that.”

Y/N nodded, understanding that it must’ve been a grief unlike anything anyone would ever have the capability to explain.

“But the second you came into his life - when you arrived in St Ives, to be more specific, ‘cause you were kind of there while Harry lied about having a girlfriend – but when you came into his life… something in him shifted. He was still happy, still himself, but it comes easier to him now to articulate himself. To find his words. He had huge trouble with that before. Always had. Words, new beginnings, new opportunities, it’s all come easier to him since you came into his life. And that-“ Jessa pointed her finger at Harry’s chest as she met his eyes again. “-That is why I’m not mad now.”

Harry blinked.

“Whatever is going on between you two, it’s not fake. If you’re saying that, if you’ve ever said that or believed that, you’ve lied to yourselves, not to anyone else,” Jessa said. “Yes, you’ve lied to us about being in a relationship. Yes, it was a tragic thing to do.”

Harry winced at her words, nodding his head. Y/N knew she must’ve had the same reaction, but she didn’t know or care what she looked like just then. All she cared about was Jessa, Grace, lolo, and Tim.

“But,” Jessa continued. “I would’ve been mad if you two weren’t in love at all. I’m disappointed it took you two this long to admit it, but I guess that’s what happens when you’re both as oblivious as each other.” She let out a sigh. “You’re forgiven.” She met Y/N’s eyes, smiling. “Both of you.”

Y/N bit her lip as it started to tremble, everything she had felt these last few minutes finally leaving her. Relief and peace finally flooded through her veins.

“I meant what I said that day, Y/N,” Jessa said, taking Y/N’s hand with her free one. “You are loved unconditionally here, with us.”

Y/N nodded her head, squeezing Jessa’s hand.

“Right,” Jessa grinned, looking up at Harry. “Free for a cuppa, my lovelies?”

“No, uhm…” Harry ran a hand through his hair, smiling down at Jessa. “We’re going to the pub with the gang. Getting a quick pint in before summer ends.”

“How nice,” Jessa said. “You two will pop by tomorrow then?”

“Yes,” Y/N answered, and Jessa’s smile widened. The older woman took a few steps toward Y/N, wrapping her arm around her in a hug. Y/N hugged her back, forcing back the tears she felt pressing on.

“We’ll see you then,” Jessa said, going in to hug Harry next.

“See you!” Grace grinned as she ran over, arms outstretched for Y/N. Y/N giggled, hoping no one heard her strangled sob. She bent down, hugging Grace to her, closing her eyes as Grace’s hold on Y/N tightened. Lolo and Tim came over as well, both smiling at Y/N and giving her hugs, patting and stroking her back, as if they both knew how much she needed it. Harry and Y/N said the last few goodbyes to their family before they walked over to Harry’s van, sitting back there in silence.

Harry suddenly turned to look at Y/N, leaning over to take her face in his hands so roughly and unexpectedly that Y/N squealed. He kissed her firmly on the lips, leaving small pecks all over her face as a grin erupted across his lips. Y/N laughed, holding onto his wrists and closing her eyes until he stopped. All the way to The Balcony Bar and Kitchen, Harry held onto Y/N’s hand, clutching onto it between changing gears, never once letting go voluntarily. Y/N thought this was quite funny, but she didn’t say this. She appreciated how he wanted to stay close to her all he could, whenever he could, just as he had said last night at 3am.

The Balcony Bar and Kitchen was an old pub, but at the far end of the pub, the entire wall facing the beach was made out of tall windows. Y/N could make out their little gang sitting at one of the tables, talking merrily amongst themselves as her and Harry strolled up to the bar.

“What do you fancy?” Harry asked her, standing so close that their sides were flush against one another. Y/N suddenly wanted to be back in the Clodgy cottage again so Harry could make up for before, as he had promised her he would once they were back there later. A chill went up her spine and she smiled, loving the fact that she could stand there and imagine a future, no matter how near or far away it was, where Harry was present.

“Whatever you’re having,” Y/N said simply.

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Really sure?”

“Really, really sure, in fact.”

Harry chuckled, ordering two pints from the bartender who had come up to them just then.

“Y/N.”

Once again, Y/N felt like she could’ve done without hearing that voice again. She thought she would’ve heard it for the last time at the end of summer party, but she guessed she hadn’t been that lucky. Looking to her right, she saw Emilia standing there. Harry tensed to her left, watching as the bartender made them their pints.

“Could we have a chat?” Emilia asked, taking Y/N completely off guard. It took her a few tries to get the correct words out, but Y/N managed to utter a quick, “Yeah,” to which Emilia smiled gratefully.

“I’ll take these to our table,” Harry said to Y/N, giving Emilia a smile before he walked back over to their little group by the window.

Emilia inhaled slowly, looking down at the bar counter before she met Y/N’s eyes again. “It’s been a weird summer, hasn’t it?”

Y/N was still not sure what was going on or why Emilia was trying to make small talk. If she wanted to say something to Y/N, then she should just say it right away. Y/N had people she’d rather be with.

Emilia must’ve sensed Y/N’s confusion at what was going on, so she sighed and turned to look at Y/N fully. “I just wanna talk about everything. I could tell there was a bit of tension between us at the end of summer party.”

Y/N rested her elbow on the counter beside her. “Yeah, there was.”

“I just wanted to talk that out, ‘cause I don’t know what you think, but it’s a bit stupid to have gotten off on the wrong foot like this when we barely know each other, isn’t it?”

Y/N took a moment to study Emilia, trying to decipher if the words she had just spoken were genuine. “Yeah.”

“I came back from Munich and found out that Harry had a girlfriend, and I was delighted. He-“

“-You were?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, of course,” Emilia answered. “Harry deserves to be happy.”

Y/N tried not to let it show on her face that she was shocked by this news. “He does.”

“I was told he had a girlfriend, and the second we met, I just felt like you didn’t like me.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Was a bit hard to when you used the power you know you have over Harry to show me that you still have the ability to make him do anything you want. And I think you got the idea that I ‘didn’t like you’ when I told Harry I felt uncomfortable with this, and he stopped giving you attention.”

Emilia fell quiet.

“Am I right?”

“You don’t know what happened between us, Harry and I.”

“I do, in fact. Harry’s told me.”

Emilia’s mouth was a thin line now. “Alright. My boyfriend of one year back in Munich broke up with me and I was sad about it. It was wrong of me to seek comfort in Harry, I’m sorry.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows some. “So… my theory’s correct? You wanted to know that you still exerted some dominance over Harry, even after all those years, and have him crawl back to you so you’d feel… what, better about yourself after being broken up with? Did you want someone to make you feel better?”

“I’m aware it was wrong of me, okay-“

“-No, I don’t think you get how fucking disgusting that is.”

Emilia turned silent again, blinking at Y/N.

“You didn’t even talk to him after you left. His dad died and his girlfriend broke up with him, he was left completely broken ‘cause of you, but he’s too good to say any of this to your face,” Y/N said, taking a small step forward.

“I left because of my mental health.”

“And that’s valid, but you should also know that by doing that, you left a hole in Harry that it took a while for him to fill up himself. You don’t get to walk in and out of someone’s life whenever it suits you, especially when they’re doing so much better now than they ever did with you there.”

Emilia looked away.

“It might feel like it, but you’re not the only person in the world that possesses feelings. We all do. The way you keep treating others and neglecting the fact that your actions will stay with them forever, is a dangerous sort of ignorance that I suggest you do something about.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t want to. I’ve heard enough from everyone else.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “It’s not my decision to make, but in my opinion, you should think twice before you try and make a place for yourself in Harry’s life again. His friends and family don’t really have a great picture of you any longer.”

Emilia sighed, meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “You know, I get where you’re coming from.”

It was Y/N’s turn to be silent now.

“You want to protect Harry, make sure nothing happens to him, and I know I hurt him bad, so naturally you don’t want me in his life. But, as you said, that’s his call,” Emilia said. “I shouldn’t have gone after Harry when I came back from Munich, it was stupid of me, especially considering how happy he looked with you. Granted, it was all fake, but I know Harry and I could tell he fancied the pants off you.”

Y/N gave Emilia a small smile, trying to make some sort of peace.

“I won’t stand in the way of you two.”

“I appreciate that. I’m sure Harry does as well.”

Emilia nodded, giving Y/N a smile.

“Y/N!” Fatima called from where she sat with all the others. When Y/N looked in their direction, she simply could not help her smile. They were all chatting amongst themselves, laughing at something, and Fatima and Harry were looking her way, beckoning her over.

“Hope you have a good day, Emilia,” Y/N said-

“You too, Y/N.”

And with that, Y/N walked back over to her friends. Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her to him where he stood at the edge of the table, everyone else perched on bar stools around the tall table. Fatima clinked her glass against Y/N’s, Jo grinned in Y/N’s direction, while Ellie, Amir and Dax were in an animated discussion about something Y/N didn’t catch. Harry leaned down, pressing a small peck to Y/N’s temple, and the grin that spread out across Y/N’s smile almost hurt. A sort of restless anticipation mingled with such utter contentment that it was hard for her to think she’d ever lived, breathed, loved, anywhere but right there in St Ives.

Thursday, 10 September

The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give back to her in some other form. And now, after a summer randomly spent in Cornwall, she had found it in herself to believe in destiny as well.

She believed that there was a place where she belonged. People she was supposed to meet, and places she was supposed to see. These people, places, and feelings would help you along the road to self-realisation. They would shape her and make everything make sense, would make all the suffering and the struggles she had faced up until then worth it in a way. Each one of the people Y/N had met in St Ives had had that effect on her. They had made her realise things about herself and her life that she would never have figured out without them. She took that summer with her for the rest of her life; letting the sun beams of St Ives shine through in her smile, the goodness of the locals reflect in her own acts of kindness, the calming feeling of walking along the sand of Porthminster Beach show in her warmness and relaxing effect on the people around her.

Y/N had no idea when she walked out of the door of the building in Bethnal Green, London that September 10th that the summer she had just experienced would play that big of a role in shaping the continuation of her entire life. She had no idea that she would receive top marks on her UCAT she took in Bethnal Green, the following day. Nor that she would attend University of Plymouth for the next six years, graduating with a degree in Dentistry. And she had no idea that, even after all those years, she’d still be with the lighthouse keeper of St Ives. Only now that she was done with University, she moved back to her hometown, to her family, friends, and boyfriend, and would live there for the rest of her life.

No, Y/N didn’t know any of that as she walked out after her UCAT on the second Thursday of September that year. She chose not to think too much about her future at that time, realising that whatever would be, would be, and there was nothing she could change about that now.

Harry, who had driven her to London that day, was stood by his car not too far away, looking down at his phone as he replied to a text. She was sure no one had ever stood by their car like this, with no other agenda than to wait for her before this. Then again, Harry would always do stuff like this as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him, expecting nothing in return. Which had come as a shock to Y/N at first, but once she realised she was doing the same thing for the people she loved as well, she understood.

The UCAT had been awful, at least at first. The questions were difficult, she had to rack her brain properly for most of them, and she could swear she had heard someone crying at one point. She had to put a hand on her own cheek to check for tears, scared that it had been her. But then, during the chaos of everything, she remembered what Harry had said to her when they woke up in the Clodgy cottage that same morning, “It’s a beautiful day to do beautiful things,” and her nerves calmed themselves considerably. Because he was right. It was a beautiful day and she would do beautiful things. The thought of getting out of there and to Harry again was enough motivation to get her through the rest of the UCAT.

Upon hearing some footsteps, Harry looked in the direction of where they were coming. He instantly shoved his phone back down into the pockets of his denim jeans, smiling at Y/N as she approached him.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve got a good feeling,” she admitted, walking over to where he was standing. “But I don’t want to get my hopes up. I get the results back in 24 hours.”

Harry huffed, sliding his thumb reassuringly over her cheek. “You know what I think?”

“Think I already do.”

“You’ll do amazing, the results will be exactly as you dreamed they’d be, and life will be ama-“

“-Amazing,” Y/N finished, making Harry chuckle. “You’ve said that word a lot this last month.”

“Can you blame me?” Harry asked, resting his hand at the back of her neck, bringing her to him so he could plant a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s been amazing this last month. So I therefore believe that the UCAT results will reflect that.”

Y/N giggled again, walking over to the other side of Harry’s van and getting in. The two of them got comfortable and Harry started driving back to St Ives. Y/N knew how much Harry hated London, and especially the traffic there. He had made it very clear when they had entered the capital that he couldn’t stand Londoners, something that made Y/N giggle. She never saw him have proper road rage, this was the first time she’d ever truly seen it, and it has been more entertaining than she had thought.

He was no better on their way out of the city, hissing curse words under his breath as he honked at reckless drivers or pedestrians that crossed the street without any regard for oncoming traffic. Y/N knew that no matter what, she could not end up attending a University in London, because Harry would not survive the trips to and from the capital.

It was a long drive back to St Ives and she fell asleep once they were out of London and Harry didn’t wake her. He knew she had been stressing the last few weeks to revise and get everything ready for the UCAT, and now that everything was over, he must’ve thought she deserved a small break from it all, some time to relax. When Y/N woke up in St Ives a few hours later, she smiled a little to herself, looking down at the tote bag by her feet that she had filled with books. She had been ready to read out loud to Harry, but she had simply not had the energy this time around.

“Alright?” Harry asked, smiling over at Y/N as he drove up the hill to Clodgy Lighthouse. He took her hand, kissing her palm softly.

“Just dead tired,” Y/N answered, yawning slightly. “I might take a nap once we’re back.”

“Or you can wake up.”

She blinked, looking over at Harry who was smiling a little to himself. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you,” Harry said, grinning now as he killed the engine.

Not really knowing what he had planned, Y/N was apprehensive at first. She saw Harry walk over to the field beside the cottage, not really caring to know what he was doing. She was too tired for that. Next, she rubbed her eyes and took her seatbelt off, climbing out of the van to join him. Harry ran for the lighthouse and Y/N followed, smiling at his eagerness to wake her up. The sun was shining brightly above them, not a single cloud in sight, and even though it was September, it was fairly warm out despite the wind.

Harry showed the way up the lighthouse, grinning back at her every once in a while. And though Y/N wanted to ask him what he was up to this time around, she didn’t bother. She knew he’d be cryptic or leave her hanging, neither option seemed very appealing now that she was slightly irritable because of her lack of sleep. Harry opened the door out onto the gallery deck, letting Y/N wander out first. She raised her eyebrows some but did as she supposed he wanted her to. Walking out onto the deck, the wind hit her hard across the face. If you stood directly facing it, it was impossible to open your eyes completely. She could see what Harry meant by this being a method to wake up some.

“Please,” Harry said. “Go along.”

Y/N furrowed her brows, but walked further onto the deck, even though she was sure Harry would’ve fit perfectly fine next to where she had originally standing.

“I’ll owe you my life if you just go along for a minute or two, yeah?”

Y/N’s frown deepened as she looked at him. “What?”

“I don’t usually do this,” Harry grinned. “I mean, I never do this. I’ve never done this before. But, you see…” He walked closer to her, taking her face in his hands. “My mum and my sister think I’ve got a girlfriend and I don’t.”

Y/N’s heart instantly melted, and she felt herself grinning right back at him.

“I was wondering, if it’s not too much to ask, of course, if you’d like to be my girlfriend? My real, proper girlfriend.”

She laughed, shaking her head at him before taking a grip of his shirt and bringing him closer. Though she didn’t know why Harry needed to do this at the top of the lighthouse, right under the light that guided sailors home, she didn’t mind. This felt right. This felt like them. This was them. It was real, it felt silly, unexpected, and a little odd, but that was what it felt like being with Harry.

She looked up into his eyes, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll be your real, proper girlfriend.”

Harry let out a breath of relief and grinned down at her, bringing her closer to him and planting a misplaced kiss onto her lips. They both giggled against one another. It hadn’t struck Y/N until now that they hadn’t made it official like this. Too much had been on her mind, she hadn’t allowed much else besides the UCAT to take up her time prior to this moment, but how that it had finally happened, Y/N felt just as relieved as Harry looked to be. She was glad that Harry had waited until now, after the UCAT, to ask, and she was also very glad to see how eager he had been to ask her.

Harry pulled away, detaching a hand from where it had rested at her neck, and held out a bellflower that he had picked outside the cottage. Reaching forward, he placed the bellflower behind Y/N’s ear, smiling to himself as he looked at it, the smile widening as he met her eyes. Y/N felt like she could burst with happiness in that very moment, probably lighting up all the oceans of the world with how much she was radiating.

“My bell room,” Harry said, touching the bellflower resting by her ear before he brought her in for another kiss.

A HUGE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! Couldn’t have written ST without them! 🌊 @aileenacoustic 🌊 @bopbopstyles 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh 🌊 @harrys-shrooms 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @sunflowers-styles 🌊 @watermelonsuger 🌊 @withallthelove-a 🌊

And so it’s over 😭 Thank you thank you thank you! From the bottom of my heart, thank you to each one of you who have been reading, reblogging, come to chat, or sent any sort of love ST’s way the last few months! There is something so liberating and beautiful about creating a world in which you feel peace, and then find that others find that same peace, that same sense of belonging, within the same world as you 💖 Each one of you remind me of why I continue to share my writing on here! Thank you for making writing, Tumblr, and fic fun! You all have my heart 💘 I LOVE YOU 💞💞

As for next fic project, as I’ve gotten quite a few questions about that already !! I’m gonna take a break from writing! Maybe a month, maybe two, dunno! I’ll still be writing some deleted scenes from ST and posting onto my Patreon, but as for a full 10+ chaptered fic, which is what I want to write next, I don’t know! But, as always, I’ll be tagging my posts with new fic tags and planning whenever I get an idea !!!! So keep an eye out lmao !!!!

Besides that, here are two songs I imagine would be playing if the end credits to ST was rolling right now 🐚 You can find the rest of the ST playlist here!

As ST!Harry said, I love you immeasurably, and as Jessa said, you’ll always have a home and a place you belong, here, in the ST universe 🌊

Your bestie, Nora ✨✨

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liquorisce · 3 years

Text

reading between the lines (High School Years, Ch 2)

pairing: eren x mikasa (shingeki no kyojin) // mild erehisu, yumihisu

rating: t

summary: (modern au) Junior year is difficult, especially for Mikasa, because it turns out Eren’s decided to test the dating scene.

(banter, jealousy... and lots of feelings)

part 1 | read on ao3

A/N: this chapter has been a long time coming (5 years omg), and tbh I have a lovely anon to thank, who messaged me asking for a sequel to hsy, which made me actually want to put down my scrambled headcanons on paper. if you're reading this anon, i'm truly grateful for the push you gave me.

NOTE: although i intended a sequel, this is a COMPANION fic to chapter 1, it is meant to fill up the gaps in the story that the previous chapter didnt tell you. i hope you enjoy :)

Today was not one of Eren’s favourite days, for 2 reasons. For one, the day started off with … an encounter. Two, today they would be getting the results of their final trig assessment, which Eren knows perfectly well he didn’t have a chance of passing.

The ‘encounter’ happens pretty much without preamble.

…

“… Hey, it’s Eren, right?” He turns around from his conversation with Armin, to see the same guy from a couple of weeks ago, the one who was talking about Mikasa, and her pretty hair. (he wasn’t wrong)

“Yeah?” He does his best not to let the subconscious irritation seep into his tone.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot the other day,” the guy with the oddly horse-shaped face says, “… My name’s Jean.”

“… Nice to meet you,” he says awkwardly delivering his dishonest words.

“… So, I wanted to be straight up with you,” Jean says, cheeks oddly pink. “About Mikasa… and you. I’ve heard some rumours, and I thought it best to address it with you directly, because I really don’t want to cause any trouble.” Clearing his throat, he says, “Are you guys… y’know, together?”

It’s in the way Jean speaks, he thinks, or the way he talks about Mikasa (or even thinks of her?) - it makes him want to ram his fist right in the middle of his ugly face. And because he was too busy clenching his fists to actually respond, Armin says with a laugh, “… Ah, don’t worry, Mikasa is totally single.”

And then proceeds to wink at Jean.

Eren can barely believe his eyes and ears. And once Jean is out of earshot he hisses, “… what the fuck, Armin?”

Armin blinks up at him innocently. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

“… You didn’t have to encourage him,” Eren mumbles petulantly, when he admits to himself that Armin did, in fact, say nothing wrong.

“Erm, why not?” He sighs, “Look, I know you… worry about Mikasa,” Armin keeps his tone as neutral and veiled as possible, because worried is definitely not all Eren feels for Mikasa, “… but Jean is a good guy! And if anyone deserves attention from a good guy, it’s her.”

…

ii.

She finds him lurking near his locker, stuffing his crumpled papers in, probably wishing away their existence.

“That bad, huh?” She asks, hiding away her grin at his predictable reaction. Eren has always been predisposed too sulking - whether he was a 7-year-old who wasn’t the fastest on the field or 16-something and having just received his trigonometry results.

“… You look like you did just fine,” he mutters, not having to see the A+ on her paper to know that Mikasa had no problem acing the trig test (or any other test).

“You could just ask me for help, Eren. I could help you out for the retakes,” she offers softly, not for the first time.

He sighs. When he glances at her, dark eyes offering earnestly, he knows she means it without any pride or arrogance, but he isn’t able to suppress the prick of his own ego that has him mumbling, “… the mandatory remedial lessons should do just fine.”

…

iii.

When he shows up for class, he sees only a couple of others unfamiliar faces, so he curses under his breath at his own ineptitude towards mathematics for getting him in this situation and takes a spot at the back of the class.

The Support teacher - Erd, he calls himself, apparently too young to be addressed ‘Mr.’ or any of that - seems just as tired as the rest of them, sighing at the lack of answers, obviously frustrated at the complete lack of interest or gratitude of the teenagers in front of him.

So, 20 minutes into the 1-hour lesson, when the short blonde walks in, out-of-breath and apologetic, the sarcasm in his tone is biting. “You’ve already missed 1/3rd of this class, you might as well have stayed out entirely and practiced your cheer routines.”

Eren watches sympathetically at the visible cringe on Krista’s face and offers her an empathetic smile as she takes the seat next to him.

Later when they’ve been informed that the retake is just an assignment filled with proofs and average difficulty problems that they can do in pairs, he looks at Krista, the only known person in the room.

They weren’t that close, but they had quite a few mutual friends what with him playing basketball and her being part of the cheer team. So, when she says, “… see you at the library tomorrow evening?” with a pretty smile across her pretty features, he grins gratefully.

She doesn’t struggle with trig even half as much as he does. In fact, she seemed to be happy to do most of the work herself and explain her solutions - if he actually had the interest to understand them.

“I don’t understand,” he admits after she solves the 5th problem in a row effortlessly, “you seem to have everything down already. How come you didn’t pass the test?”

Her eyes skittered nervously away from him. “I was… sick,” she mutters. “I couldn’t really focus.”

He eyes her closely, observing the sudden change in her countenance. Usually Krista was all easy smiles, twinkle in her blue eyes. Now, she looks uneasy, unwell almost. Deciding it wasn’t his place to pry, “… Well, I guess I turned out to be the lucky one in all this,” he grins, “… I get to hang out with you and have you do my assignment.”

She rolls her eyes. To be honest, she’d enjoyed the past couple of evenings with him. Eren was easy to talk to, despite being somewhat of an airhead and being completely incapable of anything remotely math related. But regardless, he made her laugh and just about forget what happened the morning before she showed up for this test, with fresh tears choking her throat, and purpling bruises on her thighs.

“I guess you owe me then,” she quips back, smugly.

“… I definitely do,” he says smoothly, green eyes watching her in a way that makes her feel warm. “How can I make it up to you?”

Flustered, because she hadn’t expected his easy response, she mumbles, “… Dinner?” And with red cheeks hidden by her blonde bangs, she whispers, “I like pizza.”

…

iv.

She finds him at the end of the day, on one of the wooden tables outside the basketball court, chin resting in his hands, eyes glued to his laptop.

“… Hey,” she breathes, giggling when startled green eyes flash up to her, body jerking in surprise.

“Damn, you got me,” he grins, pushing his laptop away and leaning up for a brief kiss. She’s happy to return it, and she lets her fingers wind into his hair, enjoying it for a moment longer.

“Mmm,” she mumbles, “I saw you closing that browser window,” she teases, wrestling control of his laptop, “watcha lookin’ at?”

When she manages to open his browser history – much to Eren’s protest – her eyes widen. “Women’s dresses, spring collection??” She waggles her eyebrows at him.

“… It’s not for me,” he grumbles, deciding to make it painstakingly clear before Krista enthusiastically begins to tell him what dress would suit him the most – he knows his girlfriend, crossdressing would be absolutely acceptable, if not encouraged – and he watches her eyes feign disappointment.

“… Boring,” she sighs, rolling her pretty blue eyes, “I don’t see how you’re not curious about how you look in a dress,” – she gasps, hand flying over her mouth, “Wait… was that… a surprise… for me?”

“… Um,” Eren starts, intelligently, because the situation that was already awkward in his opinion, just became even more so. “Well,” he gulps, taking in the sparkle in her eyes, knowing fully well just how much she likes surprises, feeling guilty even thought he needn’t be, “itsformikasa.”

He hangs his head in apparent apology, but more so because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment flit across her features.

“… Oh.”

He chances a glance at her, and there’s no particular emotion per se, and it worries him, because she gets this faraway look in her eye sometimes, and he can’t really tell what’s going on, and they’ve only been together a few months and he’s not an expert in reading her silences –

“I see, is it for her birthday or something?” Her tone is measured, and she’s looking pointedly at the screen.

“Um… yeah.” Eren sighs, wondering what the hell was up with his own reaction. He had nothing to feel guilty about – where did that even come from anyway? – Mikasa’s his… family (or something). Shopping for her was normal. He did it every year. This isn’t something he needed to hide.

“Yeah, it’s next month,” he says, giving her a smile. There was no need for this to be awkward if he didn’t make it so. Besides, it wasn’t like he was buying her lingerie or something! (he brushed this thought aside faster than the red blush crept up his neck)

“Do you think, you could help me with it?” He blurts this out, partially in an attempt to distract the weird atmosphere, and also partially because he could really use the help.

Krista blinks. “Err, yeah. Sure.” She pulls up Mikasa’s profile on Instagram. “Let’s see,” she murmurs… Turtlenecks… Jeans… a ridiculously modest swimsuit that she wore to a pool party two years ago. The sexiest outfit on her entire profile was probably her in her tennis shorts and that had more to do with Mikasa’s undeniably ripped body than anything else.

She looks up at Eren, who’s still looking at her tentatively, green eyes unsure.

This whole thing was silly anyway, she thinks, offering him a genuine smile. He and Mikasa were close (and they lived together, which she did her best not to think about), but this wasn’t a surprise so it’s about time that it came up in some way in their relationship. In any case, she hadn’t felt any hostility from the raven-haired beauty and Eren was usually quite forthcoming about everything, so she didn’t really have anything to worry about.

“So, um, does she have a favourite colour or something?” She’s eager to kill the awkward mood and is grateful to see his shoulders visibly relax as he ponders.

“… Red, I think. Maybe, like, a darker shade. Sort of… maroon, y’know?” He thinks of the scarf he gave Mikasa when they were younger. It was a ratty, yet fluffy maroon thing which she was absolutely terrible at tying, but she wears it everywhere during the winter, even though his father had a bought her a better one at some point.

They peruse their options for a bit, and Krista picks out a deep red number, a shimmery satin one, with slinky straps and a slit that travels up an already high hemline. It wasn’t really a spring dress but more of a cocktail night outfit, and Eren is weirdly embarrassed thinking of Mikasa in it.

He eyes the screen incredulously. “… Somehow, I just can’t picture Mikasa wearing something like that.” He opens up another link, to a denim overall dress, “… now this, she would wear.”

“And that,” Krista retorts, “is why she’s still single. She has an amazing body; she should flaunt it.”

“… What would she wear it to?” Eren asks, unconvinced. (Also, what was wrong with Mikasa being single?) “… Student council meetings? Debate competitions?! I just,” –

“Parties, Eren,” she says, exasperated, “… it’s high school!”

“You know she doesn’t” –

“Drag her to some! C’mon, we’re going to be seniors soon. She’ll thank you for it!”

…

Six hours later, she’s closing up her shift at her part-time job. It’s a job she’d rather keep hidden – from her friends at school and the law – because she isn’t sure what the age policy was in these kinds of establishments. It worked out because it was close enough to home, and between her and the bartender, the tips compensated the poor wages. Plus, the bartender – a slightly older girl named Ymir with a pretty fringe and a sharp tongue – was genuinely fan to hang out with. And she was surprisingly protective of the small blonde, particularly with the rougher customers, whom Ymir scared off quite effectively with her glares.

“So,” she says, as she scrubs the counter clean, “… I helped my boyfriend buy a dress today.”

She doesn’t turn back to see her, but she can hear Ymir’s raised eyebrows as she says, cheekily, “… I didn’t realize you guys were into that stuff.”

Snorting, she replies, “Well that would be interesting. But no, it was for his, um, friend. Or something.” Or something, because sometimes Eren refers to Mikasa as his best friend, sometimes his family, and sometimes it just felt like… something else, basically.

She turns around to look at Ymir, who says nothing, continuing to rinse the rest of the glasses. “Her name’s Mikasa,” she continues, her voice getting oddly unsure, “They’ve known each other forever. They even… live together.”

“… What,” Ymir stares at her in disbelief.

“It’s not like that,” Krista finds herself sounding defensive, “Eren’s dad is her guardian… or something. Has been for some years. So, it’s not like they moved in together…”

She elects to skip the part where Eren’s dad is a doctor with Doctors without Borders and is barely home for more than a couple of months a year. She didn’t like the look Ymir was giving her anyway.

“So… they’re like brother-sister or what?”

“No,” she says, realizing that the word came out more vehement than she intended. But she knows that was definitely not the way Eren saw their relationship.

“… Krista,” Ymir starts, and the blonde can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s going to get all protective on her, “… I know you’re in high school, and… you’re dating – as you should – but you don’t have to waste your time on shady boys.”

At this she laughs because, “Eren’s not shady, he’s a nice guy,” –

“… You could get anyone you want; I mean look at you, you’re beautiful.”

The defense that was bubbling up in her throat suddenly stilled, because there’s something about the way Ymir just said that – called her beautiful – earnestly, quietly, and it made her feel funny. It took her breath away for a very brief second and replaced it with a warm flush that creeps up her neck.

It’s strange, she’s heard it before from so many boys with obvious motivations; Eren’s always calling her pretty, and complimenting her eyes or whatever… But when Ymir said it, and looked at her like that, honey brown eyes, deep with unnamed emotion, all she could do was avert her eyes.

…

vi.

It’s 7pm and the library’s home only to the nerds by now. The librarian is lax (and underpaid) enough to ignore the low buzz of two over-enthusiastic AP chemistry students that grates on Mikasa’s ears.

Ordinarily she’d just plug her earphones in and ignore the world to focus on the assignment at hand. But today she accepts anything to distract her from the scene earlier at home. And even though Armin’s sitting right next to her, supposedly doing his own thing, she doesn’t miss the worried glances he sends her every now and then, which she really doesn’t want to address.

Her feelings for Eren were a well-known secret by now, just as well-known as the fact that he clearly didn’t return those feelings, so she wasn’t particularly in the mood for Armin’s indulgent pity… regardless of how well-intentioned it was.

So, when its 8pm and the librarian is shooing them out, and she bumps into Jean, she’s grateful for the few extra minutes of conversation surrounding absolutely nothing important.

When they continue to the parking lot, their conversation having progressed from awkward conversation starters to an animated discussion on Jean’s tennis form, Armin’s well and truly realized that he has no place here.

After Armin’s said his goodbyes and Mikasa recognizes that she doesn’t mind staying away from home and possibly Eren and Krista in the middle of their 5th round, she asks Jean, “… so do you like Chinese food?”

…

When she walks in a little after 10 pm, cheeks cold from the night air, there’s a small grin on her cheeks, because she’s made a new friend today, whose company she genuinely enjoyed.

But when she enters the living room to see Eren fast asleep on the couch, she finds herself staring in the face of the reality she’d tried so hard to escape. It’s difficult to ignore the ruffled quality of his brown hair, mussed up in a way that could only have been achieved by someone (a very blonde, very beautiful someone) raking their hands through it.

She can’t help the wave of irritation that sweeps through her - so she doesn’t bother to soften her footsteps as she walks up the wooden stairs.

Minutes later, she hears his sleepy voice at her door. “Hey,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice, “you were out pretty late, so I left you some dinner. We made pasta, it’s not as good as yours but,” -

“… I ate already,” she says, tone clipped.

“Oh.” He’s quiet, just watching her put her things away, and there’s irrational tears pricking at her eyes, anger, and frustration that she knows she doesn’t have the right to, so she doesn’t turn to acknowledge him. “… Mikasa, are you…,” he clears his throat, “… is something wrong?”

When she says nothing, he sighs, turning, “… Well, if you want to talk about it, you know I’m always here,” -

“… Could you please go over to Krista’s house next time?”

She colours, surprised at herself for her outburst of honesty. But her blush pales in comparison to Eren’s as he processes what she’s saying. “… This is my house,” he sputters, “… I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to want to bring my girlfriend over.”

“Well, it’s not just ‘bringing her over’, is it?”

His eyes widen in disbelief. “… What I do with Krista, in my personal space, is definitely not your business, Mikasa.”

“It is when I can hear it, Eren,” she retorts, as he shuts the door forcefully behind him.

…

vii.

It’s been two weeks since that… confrontation, and Mikasa’s barely spoken to him since.

She leaves before he does, makes sure dinner’s left out on the stove for him, whether he needs it or not, and locks her door when she’s done. And although he’s found himself staring awkwardly at that shut door multiple times, he’s never had the courage to actually knock.

He simply cannot comprehend this situation because despite the numerous arguments they’ve had in the past - it was always him, whining about something like a petty child and sulking till he got his way - she’d never truly been mad at him. And she’d never, ever, gone days without talking to him. And as he stares at the locker next to his (it was Mikasa’s) with a horrible ache in his chest, he is well and truly sure that he loathes this situation.

So, when small hands reach around his waist, enveloping him in a tight embrace, his subconscious reaction is to jerk back in annoyance. “I didn’t realise it was you,” he murmurs apologetically, rubbing her hands softly.

“… Who else would it be?” Krista asks, somewhat thrown off by this mood that had been festering for days now.

“You ask some very valid questions there, babe,” he mutters, a distracted half-smile on his face.

Taking a deep breath (determined to shake him out of his pensive aura), she whispers, “… You know, I don’t have work today.” She leans against him, reaching up to murmur in his ear, “we could hang out at yours for a while, if you want?”

She makes it clear what she means by “hanging out” by the way she presses up against him, and even though he’s responded with fervent enthusiasm to a similar invitation in the past, today he just averts his gaze, awkwardly.

Swallowing the rejection with a graceful exterior, she puts an arm’s length of distance between them. “… What’s going on, Eren? Your head’s been somewhere else all week.”

And before he starts to stay that it’s nothing, just that he has some stuff going on, she says, “… does this have something to do with Mikasa?”

His green gaze jerks up at her, startled with unfortunate honesty. “… I haven’t seen you talk to her all week.”

“…I,” he starts, but his throat closes up, for some reason, unsure whether he should really tell her what happened. He doesn’t want to put her in the middle of something that was clearly between him and Mikasa.

But with every passing second, the guilty look on his face only begins to feed the fears that she had successfully kept dormant all this while. “… Did something happen between the two of you?”

And when he looks into her eyes, bright blues seeping insecurity, he says, hurriedly, “… wait, I hope you aren’t thinking that we,” - he inhales sharply, wondering how he manages so successfully to upset the women in his life - “God, no. We had a misunderstanding, that’s all. She said something, I was pretty rude to her, and I shouldn’t have been.”

“And,” he murmurs, admitting it to himself, finally, “I’ve just taken too long to apologize.”

…

She’s barely finished washing the vegetables for dinner, when she hears the thud of the front door closing loudly.

(She remembers Carla reprimanding him every time, for not being gentler)

Mikasa has managed to avoid Eren successfully these past days, because she knows his schedule, knows that despite his complete lack of organization, he’s fairly predictable. And with his recent interest in a particular cheerleader, he almost invariably never comes home before 8.30 PM. So, when she hears him enter their kitchen at little over 7, she isn’t prepared.

She isn’t prepared because she’s been quite cowardly, saying things that she had no business saying, and then being unable to own up to it, unable to apologize to him. Because she knew that when she looks at him, she’ll feel the way she feels right now - taking in the sight of him, drizzle droplets fresh in his brown hair, as he runs a hand through it, his mouth twisting into an awkward grin. She knew she’d realize that her feelings for Eren were never really much of a choice, they just were.

“… I brought your favourite dumplings from Li’s,” he announces. “And I brought an extra serving of the spicy soy sauce so we don’t have to fight over who gets the last bit.”

…

He’s grateful for the small smile that forms on her face when she accepts the dumplings (the peace treaty as he calls it in his head), and for the small banter that she indulges him in as they eat.

After they’re stuffed with dumplings and inconsequential conversation, he clears his throat, because he remembers he came home early tonight with a certain conviction.

But as she does with most things, she beats him to it. “… Eren, about the other day,” she looks at him earnestly, “… I had no right to demand that of you. I’m sorry.”

And when he’s still quiet, she mumbles quickly, “I don’t know what got into me that day, honestly, I,” -

“Don’t apologise, Mikasa,” he says, a strange disquiet taking over him as he replays her words, “… the last thing I want, is to make you feel uncomfortable.” Or to make you feel like you can’t demand what you want from me.

This is the part that settles into him slowly, that somehow, the one person in his life that he’s always felt he could ask anything of, could demand anything of, and actually receive it without fail… she didn’t feel that she could count on the same from him. And it twisted painfully inside of him.

“I appreciate that, Eren. But honestly, I’ll get used to it… so don’t worry.” She smiles, in that genuine way of hers, small lips, curving shyly, “… and who knows, maybe someday I’ll want to ‘bring someone over’ too.”

She laughs as she does the air quotes and even though he manages a small grin in response, all he can say, without really meaning it, is –

“Yeah… Of course, yeah.”

…

viii.

She takes her frustration out on the cash register. “… Damn thing doesn’t open when I need it to, and doesn’t close when I want it to,” she mutters under her breath.

“You just need to show it some love,” Ymir says, amused, promptly closing the problematic register without any difficulty. “… Go sit, I’ll close up here.”

She does as she’s told, pouting slightly, but she’s grateful for the older girl’s help and understanding. “So… want a beer before I close the tap?” Ymir asks with a wink.

“You need to stop offering underage girls alcohol,” Krista whispers, scanning the room hastily.

The brunette rolls her eyes. “You need to stop with the innocent act every time. You’re a hot cheerleader for god’s sakes, everyone knows what goes on at your high school parties,” -

“Ok ok,” she acquiesces, suppressing the blush at Ymir’s offhanded compliment and deciding that that there was no point in panicking every time they did this, “… but only if you join me.”

“Cheers,” Ymir says, offering her glass to Krista’s and taking a generous gulp. “So, tell me. Boy trouble, again?”

Krista nurses her drink slowly before taking a sip.

To Krista, Eren was a breath of fresh air. He didn’t hover, he didn’t foam at the mouth every time she spoke to another guy, didn’t hound her if she didn’t pick up his phone call.

Does he even care? Ymir had asked her once scathingly, but she had disregarded it, grateful for the freedom she felt in his embrace. Freedom from toxic attachment, from past trauma or unresolved baggage like the one she was destined to carry. When she was around him, she had felt different. Lighter almost, as if this persona that she had created for herself could actually have a shot at happiness after all.

But lately she’d begun to wonder if she’d just been fooling herself… again. She’d begun to question if she had just convinced herself to see the promise of something that was never there.

“… I thought this guy was one of the good ones,” Ymir says, watching Krista closely.

“He is…” she sighs, “He is one of the good ones. It’s just…” she trails off, unsure if she should give voice to her thoughts. “Ah fuck it, I’m just feeling a little insecure, it’ll be fine…”

“… Is this about that sexy flatmate of his?”

She winces, feeling exposed. It often felt that way with Ymir. Like there was no point to any of the barriers she had worked so hard in constructing.

“She is attractive,” Krista admits, begrudgingly. “… I’m only surprised Eren hasn’t noticed that.”

“… But that’s what you’re worried about, aren’t you? That he has noticed that of late?” Ymir narrows her eyes at Krista. “You should just ask him about it!”

“I did,” she states defensively, “… and he said there was nothing,” -

“… Oh, sure there’s nothing. I can’t believe he thinks he can lie to you and get away with it,” -

“Ymir, I trust him, he’s my boyfriend,” -

“But that’s the problem with you. You just trust everyone, and you let them walk all over you. You did this with Reiner and now with,” -

“Ok,” she whispers, “Stop it, Ymir.”

“… Krista, you need to trust your gut about this sort of thing. If your gut is telling you that he’s a lying asshole, then you should just dump his ass and,” -

“… See this is why I didn’t want to tell you about this,” she cries, her voice rising In frustration. Because this is how it’s always been with Ymir, no one she dates is ever good enough, no decision she makes is ever smart enough.

“You’re always shitting on my boyfriends. And I know you were justified about the last one, but,” her voice cracks just a little bit, because at the end of it all, she just feels weak, “… it feels like you’re just taking a massive crap on me as well.”

“I didn’t mean,” Ymir starts apologetically, brown eyes remorseful, “… look, that wasn’t my intention.”

She takes her hand, slowly, lets her long fingers intertwine with Krista’s smaller, dainty ones. The crumpled expression on Krista’s features has her regretting ever opening her big mouth. But she was tired of seeing one person after another, enter her Krista’s life, and undo the progress she was trying so desperately to make.

“… The truth is,” she takes a deep breath, ready to unleash a truth that’s been stifled for so long, she can’t even remember when it first sprouted, “I think you’re pretty fucking amazing. And I see you wasting all your time and your feelings on these stupid boys who don’t deserve you.” The words come out quickly, rushed almost. A sharp contrast to how long they’ve festered in Ymir’s chest, growing and growing until these feelings knew no reason.

Ymir doesn’t look at her, she keeps her gaze focused on Krista’s hand, afraid of what might happen if Krista understands the depth of feeling behind her words. But more important than her feelings, there were some things she wanted Krista to see clearly.

“Did you tell him about your father, Krista? What he does to you when his wife isn’t looking?”

Krista tugs on her hand, a wave of unbridled panic spreading at the mention of her father. “I trusted you with that information, Ymir, you promised you’d never bring it up,” -

“… Did you tell him your real name?”

She can’t answer this question, even though she knows the answer, knows it’s an emphatic ‘no’ - but she cannot answer because there’s an overwhelming lump in her throat, and it’s taking everything from her to barely keep it together.

“… Let go of me, Ymir,” she pleads, and that’s when Ymir loosens her grip.

“… You trusted me to keep quiet about your secrets - and I’m fine with that. I’m fine with doing anything you ask of me,” her teeth grit together, because she doesn’t know, Krista doesn’t know just how much she would do.

“You asked me not to do anything about the fact that your father is hurting you, and it even though it kills me, I listened to you. But now I see you hurting yourself in this farcical relationship with fabricated feelings for some boy who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, and I don’t know if I can be quiet about that anymore.”

And because it’s grown too large, too much to keep inside of her anymore, she whispers, “I love you, Historia. And if you want me to let go of you, I will. But,” she brushes her lips gently against Krista’s cheek, “… You can trust me with your secrets, and your heart, if you’d let me, because I could take care of you.” She feels a warm tear roll down Krista’s cheek and her heart clenches, “… I could make you happy.”

…

ix.

“… I really appreciate you making time for this,” she murmurs, as she watches him lay the white lilies at her parent’s grave.

He always remembers, without her prompting, because the first time he’d come with her, she’d spent hours crying at their gravestone, telling him tear-filled anecdotes of the dishes her Mama cooked, the bedtime stories her Papa told, the flowers that they used to grow in their garden together (white lilies).

“C’mon Mikasa,” he rolls his eyes at her, “… we do this every year. Why wouldn’t I make time for this?” And why the hell are you thanking me?

She can’t really explain it to him, the possibly childish notion that she thought he might be too busy with his girlfriend to remember the death anniversary of her parents. She regrets doubting him, regrets that of late she’s been so clouded by petty jealousy, that she hasn’t truly appreciated how little he’s changed around her.

“It’s ridiculous,” she confesses, softly, “… you’ve given me everything. A home… A family.” She smiles at him, somewhat blurry. “But I can’t help it, every year on this day, my mind always goes back to that… moment. I lost them… in what felt like the blink of an eye.”

He tenses, as he always does when he sees her upset, or shedding a tear. There is a fundamental part of him that deeply despises the sadness on her features; it makes him feel helpless. So, he does the only thing he can - he wraps an arm around her, tucking her face into his shoulder as she snuggles into him.

“I miss them every day. But you saved me, Eren,” she whispers, dark eyes looking up at him with a gratefulness that he has never known how to accept, and never felt worthy of. “… and now I have you.”

Her voice trails off, almost wistful. “… I guess the world really can be cruel but beautiful at the same time.”

…

When he stops to think about it, he supposes it really is ridiculous it took them so long to get here. And by here he means - Mikasa wrapped securely in his arms, in his lap, on their couch, taking advantage of the privacy they’ve had all along.

He feels her tongue flick against his - it makes him shiver - and he can do little more than just wrap himself around her tighter, and sigh into her kiss. Her fingers make their way into his hair, cradling his head, pressing sweet kisses on the side of his mouth, on his jaw, and on the sensitive spot beneath his ear.

And because Mikasa’s always been a quick study (she’s learnt what he likes, what he’s weak for), he stills her exploration (very reluctantly) before she goes too far.

“Are you okay…?” He whispers, rubbing a thumb along the dried tear stains on her cheek – a reminder of her tears, of knowing the pain that he’d caused her, bubbled quietly within him, having been quelled temporarily by the glorious feeling of having her in his arms.

She laughs, shaking her head, “… I love you. I can’t believe I finally get to say it.” She rests her forehead against his, a happy smile forming on her lips.

“… You could have said it ages ago; you know. No one asked you to keep it inside for this long.” Even though he teases her with his words, his lips drift back to hers, brushing softly, unable to stay away for too long.

“… Well, you never know, I actually might have said it. If it wasn’t for, you know, you having a girlfriend.” He senses the eye roll, the teasing lilt of her voice, but he can’t help but regret the time he wasted. Because even though Krista was a dear friend, and there were no ill intentions there, now that he is here, chest to chest with the girl he loves, he only wishes he’d been here sooner.

“You’re going to use that against me forever, aren’t you?”

She grins in response. “… I have a question though.”

“Shoot,” he murmurs, nibbling against her lower lip.

“… Why’d you guys break up?”

He groans, kissing her jaw testily. “… Do you really want to go into that right now?”

She hesitates, torn between potentially ruining the mood and needing to know what happened. God knows, she had spent countless nights losing sleep over the details anyway. “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay, I guess…”

“It’s fine,” he says quickly, realising that if he wanted to set a precedent where she could ask him anything, then it‘s best he starts now, “… She’s in love with someone else. A girl, actually.”

Her eyes widen, not having expected that turn of events. “… Please tell me you didn’t ask for a threesome.”

“What the fuck, Mikasa, of course not!” He pulls back, offended.

“Good,” she murmurs cheekily, “I’ve raised you well.”

“Hmm,” he hums, “Speaking of ‘raising me’, you should probably stop saying stuff like that. Do you know that Connie asked if you were like a ’sister’ to me?”

He grins, seeing the shocked expression on her face. That’s exactly how he had felt when he was posed that question, with a little mortification added to the mix. “… Is that really how everyone sees our… relationship?”

His fingers drift to hers, where they rest on his chest. “We’ve been living together for a while now,” he caresses her knuckles absentmindedly, “Kids our age… they don’t really understand it, I guess. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“My turn: I have a question for you,” he murmurs. This is a question he’s long considered, stopped only by his embarrassment, fielding it from others only to put the vaguest labels on it.

“… What am I to you, Mikasa?”

The question throws her, because even though she’s told him candidly how she feels, that she loves him, she always has, he is asking her, right now, to define their relationship.

The very notion, the expression that flits on her tongue, bubbles up in her heart with an exciting warmth, even though she hopes this is just temporary, that it will grow, that Eren is so many things and will be so many things to her that she cannot possibly define right now - “… My boyfriend, of course.”

- fin -

A/N: i've been really nervous to post em, because its just been so long, and the writer that wrote chap 1 is different from the one that wrote chap 2, and honestly i dont even know if there are inconsistencies. so my request to you, dear reader, is to please let me know if i have made any fuck ups in writing this - or if you have any ideas for pacing, or storytelling that could possibly help me improve.

also there will be a chapter 3 focusing on eremika’s sexual exploration~

#eremika #erehisu #yumihisu #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #shingeki no kyojin #liquorisce fanfiction

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psychovigilantewrites · 4 years

Text

Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N: I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW: mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #robin #jason todd imagine #dont call me that

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