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stylesharrys · 7 months

Text

private show

summary: you miss harry’s concert but half of it isn’t your fault.

warnings: mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, swearing, kissing, teasing, unprotected shower sex, dirty talk, fingering...

word count: 3,938

a/n: i literally wrote this about four years ago, but it’s all been edited and freshened up a little for you guys! i hope you’re staying safe and if there’s any writings in particular you’d like to see, send me a message! anyway, enjoy this smutty piece:)

The car broke down. You weren’t sure how it happened, or why, but the engine wouldn’t start and your dad suspected the battery died.

You’re in London with Harry for a few days, Harry performing and you visiting your family in a small town a few hours out of central London. You’d come by late afternoon yesterday and now you’re stuck.

You’re meant to be going back to London in time for Harry’s show, but with no car and none of your family having one to lend, you’re shit out of luck. You didn’t have the money or time to get the battery recharged or get a new one, and in all honesty, you didn’t know what you needed to do for it anyway.

So, with your little suitcase and your purse, you got yourself a train ticket straight to London. You missed the first train, the bus getting you to the station three minutes late. So you had no choice but to wait in the warmth of the sun for seven minutes until the next one came.

You only stayed on that one for three stops, staring at your phone screen when the rail app told you that you’d need to get off. And you did, sat down for twenty minutes while you waited for the next one that took you straight to Greenwich.

By then it was already 7 pm and you knew you’d most likely miss his entire show at this rate. And then the train showed up and you hopped on it, squeezing between the standing people and you shoved your earphones in, playing an old playlist Harry had made you.

And that’s when you get the text.

iMessage from H💞

Hey. You close, I’m on in an hour x

You sigh and rub your forehead, flicking back to the app on your phone and groaning when you realise you’ll be twenty minutes on that train and then need to get another Bank one for six minutes, then a thirty-minute walk, and then the underground.

iMessage to H💞

Just left for the Greenwich line. Car broke and I don't have time or money on me to get it sorted. Taking the train and it’s insane how many connections you have to make. I don’t know what time I’m gonna be there. Does security know I’m coming in backstage? Xx

You lock your phone with a sigh and turn up the volume of the music, closing your eyes for a moment and trying to calm your nerves and anxieties.

Soon enough, you’re getting off at Greenwich and onto the Bank train. Only when you go past Heron Quay do you realise that you’ve missed your stop and, essentially, gotten yourself lost.

Your panic only grows when Harry stops answering your calls and texts and then you realise it was 8:31 and he’s already on stage, performing, without you supporting him on the side stage.

You try to call Jeffrey, but of course, no answer. Matt, no answer. Mitch, no answer. Jasmine, his opener, no answer. It’ll be useless to call your parents, neither of them know the train lines and can’t come and pick you up anyway because they don’t drive.

You struggle to ask people where to go, most people pushing past you in their own hurry to get to their destinations, and you’re shocked to not see any rail workers anywhere on the platforms to offer assistance.

So, you do what you do best. You panic. You slump down on one of the cold, metal benches with your suitcase by your side and purse in your lap. Tears are quick to prickle at your eyes and the air grows colder, bitter.

If you had just got off at your stop, you would’ve been with the others by now, watching your man perform on stage and become one with the crowd. But, here you are, cold, alone, and lost.

Your little denim jacket is doing nothing to conserve heat and your legs bounce as you try to warm yourself up. Your achingly cold fingers struggle to type up a route you could take and before long, thirty minutes have passed and it’s 9 pm.

And then, the worst possible thing happens. Your phone dies.

You panic even harder now, your chest constricting and you struggle to catch a breath. It isn’t until you see an older man slowly walk the yellow safety lines of the station in a high-vis train rail jacket that you calm just a little.

You shoot up from your seat, hands clammy and shaking as you pull your suitcase with you. “Excuse me!” You call out to the older man, the station much quieter now.

He turns to you with raised brows and a friendly smile, and you’re more than relieved that you’ll be getting some help.

“I’m not from around here and I missed my stop and ended up here.” You explain as calmly as you can, taking deep breaths and swallowing back the lump in your throat.

“Okay. Where are you heading?” The older man asks, sliding his silver-rimmed glasses up the smooth slope of his nose.

“I’m trying to get to the O2 Arena.” Your heart’s stammering in your chest and you explain how your phone had died and you have no way of contacting anyone or getting routes.

The man, Barry, assures you it will be fine. He writes down the trains and stops you need to make and where to go from there, then offers you his battery pack to charge your phone for a few minutes.

You check it when you get on the next train, a message from Jasmine on your screen and the time’s now nearing 9:34 pm.

iMessage from Jasmine X

Hey!! Where are you?? Everything okay? Call me!!

You sigh and quickly begin typing, trying to explain what happened and that you’re on your way, but before you can ever send the text, your phone freezes and cuts off dead.

You take another deep breath, trying to keep calm, and shove your phone into your pocket. Your ears focus on the voice through the speaker, listening closely for your stop and staring at the piece of paper in your hand so you know when to get off.

By the time you reach the O2, it’s 10 pm and you're certain the show’s over. You sprint to the doors, unsure where you’re even meant to go. You don’t have a ticket and Harry has your backstage pass.

“Can I help you, miss?”

The security guards eye you cautiously, somewhat alarmed by your frantic state. To them, you look just like every other fangirl they’ve ever met.

“I’m meant to be meeting Harry’s team backstage. Do you know how I get there?”

You’re breathless, body somewhat numb from the sudden drop in temperature and pure anxiety you’ve suffered over the past two hours.

The man squints at you. “Do you have a pass?” Great.

You sigh. “No, his manager, Jeffrey, has my pass. I’m Harry’s girlfriend. Look, you can go and ask on your walkie talkie. I have ID, but I don’t have my pass.” You try to explain.

He shakes his head, tries to hide the amusement on his face. “Nice try, kid. Go home.” He turns his back, wandering away but you shake your head and follow after him.

“No, I’m being serious! Jeffrey has my backstage pass. My phone is dead so I can’t contact them! Please, just radio it through. I promise you! My name is Y/N Y/L/N, please. He’ll tell you!” You beg, tears pooling in your eyes in panic.

This can’t be happening, how has it even come to this? You’ve been through the works already, and now, you look like nothing more than a desperate fangirl.

“Listen, miss. If you don’t leave right now, we will escort you out ourselves or call the police. It’s your choice.” He all but growls his words, an effort to scare you off.

Your shoulders slump and tears spill from your eyes, anxiety consuming you. “This isn’t happening,” you whisper to yourself, breathing unevenly and your knees buckle slightly.

You can’t even go back to the hotel as you don’t know where you’re all staying, seeing as you stayed with your parents last night. You’re done for.

You’re about to turn away, search for someone with a charger maybe, when a ruckus of cheering and talking catches your ears and the doors to the arena open. Hundreds of people flood out of the doors, eager to get themselves home and you wonder how you’re going to get to Harry.

“Oh my God! It’s Y/N!” Is all it takes for everyone to spot you and scream, hurtling toward you and calling your name.

You grab the security guard's arm and frantically beg for his attention. “Now do you believe me!? Please!” You cry out, but he continues to look at you sceptically as the other security members calm down the fans.

You try to talk to the fans, to have them prove that you were Harry’s girlfriend. And even though they agree and show security pictures and proof, they refuse to let you back because you don’t have a pass.

“Here, use my phone to call someone!” An older woman from behind security offers you her phone, her daughter (you presume) staring up at you with big doe eyes.

You smile and take the mobile, punching in Harry’s number that you’ve had memorised for moments like this. You ignore the security guard that continues to ask you to leave and when the ringing stops and a ruckus on the other end is heard, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Hello?” Harry answers, sceptical from the other end.

“Harry! Oh thank God, it’s Y/N.” You sigh out in relief, the fans screaming when they hear you on the phone with him.

“Babe, what the fuck is going on? I’ve been trying to call you! Where are you?” His words are laced together in panic and you can hear him shushing his team.

You sigh. “I’ll explain later but I’m with your fans outside the doors and security won’t let me through to you because Jeffrey still has my pass.” You explain, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Harry tells you to sit tight and that he’ll fix it, tells you he loves you and ends the call. You sigh in relief and quickly delete the number from the call log, handing the phone back to the woman and thanking her profusely.

You feel awful, really. It’s bad enough that you missed Harry’s show, but now you’re holding up all of his fans from going home because security is keeping them away from you and not letting you through the doors.

You speak to a few of his fans while you wait, asking how they found the show and answering some of their questions about Harry when another scream is heard and Jeffrey wanders out toward you with a security guard.

“Y/N!” He calls out, speaking with the other security for a second before showing them your pass and explaining you are who you said you are.

You say goodbye to the fans, dragging your suitcase over to Jeffrey and he pulls you in for a hug, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. You thank him and wave goodbye, following him through a hallway and you disappear.

“What the hell happened?” Jeffrey asks in concern, brows furrowed and you sigh while explaining about your car, the trains, and your phone. Jeffrey listens closely and throws his arm over your shoulder as you walk, pulling your suitcase along.

Security leads you through another corridor and another, opening doors and scanning his ID on certain parts to gain access. A few minutes of walking and a burst of soft laughter can be heard, your heart skipping a beat.

Jeffrey's hand rests against your back as he leads you through a room and another curtain, and there Harry stands; pacing back and forth and biting at his nails. The sound of the door opening catches his attention and he spins around to you.

“Honey...” he whispers, pacing toward you and scooping you into his arms. You sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, crying softly into his shoulder. Harry cradles the back of your head, gently cooing you and whispering reassuring words into your ear.

“You’re okay, baby.” He whispers, kissing your temple and you pull away sniffling, wiping your eyes and taking a deep breath. Harry cups your clammy cheeks in his hands and leans down a little. You lift onto your tiptoes and kiss his lips softly, not even a little bothered by the taste of sweat on his lips.

You sigh into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed and a cheeky wolf whistle from behind him catches your attention. You pull away and peer over his shoulder, blushing at the sight of his entire team grinning at you both and Lloyd facing his camera at you.

You’re curled into Harry’s side as you wander down the hall to find his room. His arm is around your shoulder, yours behind his waist as he pulls your little suitcase along.

His skin is still sticky with sweat and his clothes stained with a salty scent, but somehow, he still smells like vanilla and his stupid cologne. “I can’t believe you had to do all that,” he murmurs out after having listened to your travels of the day.

You hum back and yawn, pulling away from his side when he reaches into his pocket for his key-card. You both stand outside the room before he unlocks the door and he drags you in behind him.

You flop straight onto the bed, the sheets still a mess and Harry’s suitcase sprawled out over it. He sighs and kicks off his boots, wiggling his toes and standing between your legs.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he says softly, head tilted as he watches you sit back up and take his hand in yours. “You wanna join?” he wiggles his brows playfully and you let out a tired laugh, nodding your head nonetheless.

“You go ahead, I’m gonna put my phone on charge and clear the bed.” You tell him, earning a little nod and a forehead kiss before he’s taking off to the bathroom, turning on the water.

You stand from the bed with a sigh and plug Harry’s charger into your phone while kicking your own shoes off. Your feet were no doubt blistered and you knew it’d be a pain to walk for the next few days.

Looking back at the bed, you sigh. Harry had always been messy when it came to getting ready for events. But you weren’t sure why, considering he had a stylist so Harry never had to find something to wear for his shows.

Nevertheless, you shake your head and begin to refold his clothing, setting it neatly in his suitcase. You brush the creases out of the sheets and fluff up the pillows before making your way to your bag to pull out your toiletries and one of Harry’s shirts you’ll sleep in.

You take them with you to the bathroom, soft melodies slipping past Harry’s lips as he washes the night away. You smile to yourself, the mirror and windows fogged by the heat of the shower that you’re eager to climb into.

You strip from your outfit and open the shower door, Harry turning to look at you with a little mohawk he’d styled with the shampoo. You snort out a laugh and shake your head, standing in front of him so the water falls down on you.

“Well, hello there,” Harry grins cheekily, eyeing your breasts as your nipples pearl. You blush and lean your head back, soothing the water through your hair but Harry can’t keep his eyes off your chest, not when it’s right there.

“Stop staring.” Your eyes are closed as you massage the shampoo into your scalp, but you already know he’s drooling at the sight of you. He always did have a thing for your chest, even if you argued they’re not your best asset.

Harry whines and nibbles on his plump bottom lip. “But, baby, they’re like begging me to love on them.” He argues, paw-like hands holding your waist as his thumbs gently caress the bottom of your breasts.

You snort out another laugh at his reasoning and wash the shampoo away, slathering on some conditioner and turning you both around so he’s now under the water. You guide him to sit on the little seat beneath the shower and adjust the head so the water can reach him.

Harry’s face is now completely level with your chest as you wash the shampoo from his hair. He whines at you with a little pout and you gently massage his scalp with your fingertips.

“I know this usually makes me really sleepy, but with your tits in my face, it's really fucking turning me on.” He rasps out, voice low and suggestive and you have to fight back a little whine of your own.

“You’re such a boy.” You breathe, slathering his luscious locks in your conditioner and leaning down just enough to kiss his swollen lips.

It was only intended to be a peck, but Harry wraps his arms around your middle and pulls you between his legs, lifting your thighs so you straddle his lap.

Your fingers slide through his curls, breathing heavily and you moan softly against his lips. His hands smooth over the curves of your ass, kneading the flesh with little force and you pull away to catch your breath.

“I’m proud of you.” You whisper against his lips, your core bumping the head of his cock and he strains out a laugh.

“You’re proud of me? Babe, you got lost on your own, almost got kicked out of the arena, and you didn’t have a panic attack once. Shit, I’m the proud one here.” Harry argues with a little smile.

You purse your lips to hide your smile and kiss his lips softly again. He kisses you back for a moment before pulling away and squeezing your ass.

“But seriously, I’ve had a raging boner ever since you sent me that naughty pic last night, and I am dying to get lost in that puss-” You cut him off with a heated kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth as your own massaged it.

Harry groans and lifts you both, your legs around his waist as his heavy cock bumps your ass. Your back presses against the shower wall, Harry’s lips chasing the water that drips down your neck.

You tug on his hair, eager to feel him inside you and you know he’ll be giving you what you both want in a matter of seconds. He holds you up with one arm and uses his free hand to grip his cock, pumping himself before he swirls his tip around your entrance.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Harry whines out, teasing himself against you and you huff, tugging on his hair and sucking his bottom lip into your mouth.

“I feel better once you’re in me,” you remind him, a taunting smirk on your lips, but it’s quick to fade when Harry thrusts his hips into yours, his thick cock stretching you out and you shriek in pleasure.

“Shit, H.” You moan, head thrown back as he slides in and out of you at a delicious pace. The running water is long forgotten, the sound of skin slapping and your arousal squelching being the only sounds you can focus on.

Harry pants in your ear, small grunts sounding through the bathroom as you whine and moan for him. He grabs your ass and spreads your cheeks, knuckles white as he grips you harder.

“So good, baby.” He moans into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe and your eyes roll back.

You can feel him deep in your stomach, feel him throb between your walls and you’re certain you’re about to explode any second. You grip his shoulders, circling your hips on his dick the best you can.

Harry rests his forehead against yours, his eyes focusing on the way his glistening cock slips in and out of your swollen pussy with such ease. “Such a good girl for me.” Harry praises, your pussy clenching around his cock and he chokes out a moan.

“Only for you. O-only good for y-you,” he grins against your lips and picks up his pace, hitting your G-spot with every soul-shattering thrust.

Harry feels you begin to spasm, can feel your body losing its strength and he cups your face with his hands, forcing you to look at him -- your noses bumping while he does so.

“Look at me, baby. Wanna watch you as you cum all over my cock.” He gently coaxes, pinching your nipple with his other hand and your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry out, eyes wide and jaw slack. Harry watches you with hooded eyes, jade clouded with lust and with one final thrust, he pushes you over the edge, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and body falls limp.

The choked cry of his name is all it takes for him to paint your walls with his pleasure, a rugged groan slipping past his lips as he cries out your name, collapsing slightly into you and trapping you completely against the wall.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, head falling back against the tiles on the wall and Harry gently eases out of you, slowly kissing every inch of your face before his lips meet yours in a tender encounter.

“I love you so much,” he breathes against your lips, easing your legs back to the ground and keeping his arms around your waist.

“I love you, too. And hey, I might’ve missed your main show but fuck me, this private show was just as good.” You joke, an angelic laugh sounding through Harry’s throat as he kisses you again.

His arms ease to rest on your ass, soothing over the tender skin he had been gripping. “Let me clean you up,” he mumbles, giving your bum a little tap before he pulls you back under the water.

Harry washes both of you, peppering your skin with gentle kisses before you’re both completely clean and drying off, brushing your teeth side by side. Harry throws on a pair of sweats while you steal a pair of his boxers and his shirt.

Sliding into bed, he curles up behind you, spooning your back and kissing your shoulder. “I’m sorry about missing your show and being so stupid that I got on the wrong trains and stuff.” You huff out.

Harry shakes his head and kisses your shoulder again. “Don’t be. None of it is your fault. Jeffrey should’ve given you that backstage pass yesterday. I’m sorry you had to go through all that on your own, but I’m so fucking proud of you, honey.”

You smile to yourself and hold his hand close to your chest, wiggling back so you’re snug against his chest. “I’m so happy I fell in love with you,” you whisper into the darkness, eyes fluttering closed.

Harry smiles into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as he kisses the crook of your neck. “I’m happy I fell in love with you, too.”

if you enjoyed it, please give it a reblog! your feedback and comments are appreciated more than you’ll ever know — i’d love to hear what you thought <;3

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #imagine harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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toast-on-dandelioms · 2 months

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What if m/c had been accepted for a scholarship abroad and just ended up stayinv there becoming the resident hero ? They did keep in regular contact with Alfred tho, seeing as he was the only family member who didnt ignore them.

Ok that is interesting and for this (which is not in the storyline in part 4) I will add another hero or two instead of Superman since he's not THAT special.

Small disclaimer: I am not sure if Green Arrow lives in Central City and where I searched told me he lives there so don't come at me that it's wrong please (I changed it to Star City so if you see it changed here is the answer)

This is based two years before you entered highschool so when you were 13 and already in Bruce's Manor.

You were there for a year and after suffering so much from Damian's tormenting you and everyone just ignoring you made you so tired and you wanted, no, needed to leave the manor and city.

You knew it was drastic but you couldn't do it anymore, you missed your mother and being sent to a home where people detest you just for existing made you feel so bad you couldn't even leave your room without a panic attack at the thought of being hurt by Damian's words or weapons or being ignored by everyone when you tried to say anything.

You applied to a few scholarship far away from Gotham to enter some prestigious schools in different cities so you could spread your choices if you got accepted.

You didn't say anything to Alfred until you received many scholarships and you chose the one in Star City, wanting to be as far away as possible from Gotham and the Waynes.

The only problem was getting Alfred to accept to send you there since he was the boss in the house, not Bruce.

You knew Bruce wouldn't care if he sent you somewhere else but you didn't want him to know where you would be going but still needed his money since you were a thirteen year old with no job or an allowance.

Thankfully Bruce just signed it without looking when Alfred showed him some random papers and off you went to your new life in Star City.

As years passed you became more social since you weren't held down by the neglect of the Waynes and you were around people who actually sought you out and didn't completely ignore you.

You kept dancing and sent all of yours training practices, plus all your small and big dance recitals to Alfred so he could see you dance since he couldn't come to every single one of them and you didn't blame him.

When you turned 15 you found a part-time job at a science company where they allowed you to work on your experiments with the supervision of an another scientist.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) you got bit by a radioactive spider that escaped from the same scientist who was supposed to supervise you and gave you the spider abilities.

Which did worry you but you learned to control your newfound superhuman strenght and also your weird sticking to surfaces and walking on walls.

Did it take a while? Yes, but it was worth it.

You also decided to become a vigilante because why not? Why not put your life in danger every night just to not receive any money compensation from it?

You're not as active as your alterego in Gotham since you actually have friends here and you're not held down by years of neglect which pushed you to help people.

You helped people whenever you could and one night, during a patrol you accidentally bumped into Green Arrow and fought with him for a while before both of you realised neither of you two were villains.

You did apologise and after a few more encounters and you pulling some pranks on Oliver because he was an easy target to prank, like come on. The man wears green and has an arrow. You can't not prank that man and call him Robin Hood.

You became his little helper, got his phone number and helped him with some villains whenever you could and especially if he let you.

You also trained your fighting with him, which got you beat up and with so many black eyes that you had to beg him to not hit your face since you couldn't keep worrying your friends and dance instructor since they were starting to ask questions and you couldn't fool them forever.

You also met Roy, aka Speedy, while on a mission with Oliver and also got along with him despite his hatred for Oliver and gained a new older brother.

After a year of helping Oliver around and training to fight decently and not only use your superhuman strenght, he finally let you come to a Justice League meeting.

You met Batman and Damian there, along with Superman and Jon to which you tried to get along with but the two of them were extremely clingy and knew a bit too much about you which creeped you out.

During the meeting you stayed very close to Oliver to avoid the two teens and also hide from Batman and Superman since they kept staring at you even while talking.

After the meeting Batman did try to approach you and you avoided him, but while walking away he just said "(Y/N)", which made you stop before walking off.

You immediately knew that he knew who you were under the mask but you didn't care that he knew.

You just ignored him and his calls, plus his sons calls. You refused to even give him a bit of attention, especially since he didn't bother you for years but now they wanted your attention?

God no, you still had dignity and self respect. Giving them attention would be like forgiving them for all those years of not even knowing you existed.

Finally the calls stopped but they started to appear everywhere you went in Central City.

You went to school? You were called in the principal office where Bruce was and scolded you lightly about putting your mother's last name when it should have been his.

Your hand started to bleed from how hard you were gripping it so you wouldn't yell at the man in front of the principal.

What you hated more was the look of love Bruce had when he scolded you, gently patting your head as he talked.

You showered at least three times before you finally felt clean after feeling Bruce touch you so lovingly.

Everywhere you went as you or as Spider, you would be met by either Bruce or one of his kids, which got even more frustrating when they would try to coax you to come back home to Gotham.

Dick would try to coax you, too into his delusional idea that you were being forced to stay here with Green Arrow even though you told him many times that it wasn't true.

He would also manipulate you by fake crying whenever you yelled at him or ignored him, making you even more frustrated because he kept on caring about himself and didn't see how you were happy in Star City.

Jason would just follow you and talk like you never left, complaining about Bruce or Damian and offered to go to a café or restaurant to catch up and see what you were up to.

Even yelling at him that he didn't care when you left didn't budge him and made him give up. No, it made him even more persistent on trying to act like you two were close and a happy family.

You also had to slam the door in Tim's face so many times whenever he would knock at the door of your apartment, you had to replace the doorknob and locks too many times to count from Tim picking the locks and you destroying the doorknob from your strenght.

Plus, arriving home to relax and seeing both Tim and Bruce in your apartment with dinner made you sick but you had to endure since you couldn't afford to change apartments since it was in the best position in the city.

Oh but Damian was the worst. He would act like he never hurt you sometimes or other times used his own past as a way to show that he had it worse than you.

Did you throw him off a building when he said that? Yes but unfortunately for you, Jon was there to catch him which made you even more frustrated.

Clark? He was decent sometimes, you met him before when he talked with Oliver and you were around but you always got a creepy vibe from him.

Especially when he kept on staring at you or gave you things like small trinkets you saw but never bought. It was so creepy that he knew what you liked, plus he kept on calling you nicknames like a father would do to his child.

Jon wasn't that bad. He did leave you alone when you asked but he also helped you. The only problem was that he acted like you were his older brother/sister and talked about times you two were together when you distinctly remember being alone when you did those things.

You did call Alfred once, he was the only one you told that you were Spider since he kept on asking why you were always full of bruises on your face and arms and you couldn't lie to him.

The call did not go well, with you yelling at Alfred that he ruined it since now Bruce knew who you were and he ruined your once happy life just because he wanted you back home.

After a while of seeing Bruce and his kids and them trying to manipulate you into going back home, plus Clark and Jon, you decided to go to the only person you trusted the most in Star City.

You went to Green Arrow and confessed to everything, you told him about your mother's death and how you were suddenly sent to a family who couldn't care less about you.

You didn't hide that you were Bruce's biological child and also showed him your scars that Damian made in the year he tormented you.

At the end of the confession you were crying, the memories of Damian hurting you with all the neglect and blatant hatred towards you made you breakdown in an ugly cry.

You kept crying even when Oliver hugged you, hugging him back with all your might as you didn't want him to leave you.

You did admit that you thought many times on going back since they kept on insisting and you weren't that strong, you couldn't resist forever with all that pressure.

By saying that, you felt Oliver freeze for a second before hugging you back and holding you close, like you hugging him with your super strength didn't faze him one bit.

What you didn't feel was the tiny prick of a needle being inserted in your neck, the only thing you last heard before collapsing in Oliver's arms were "sorry kid, can't let you leave me"

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