#Why did I see someone saying they want to go study at Oxford after reading babel

[brighteststar707]

I think we need to confiscate the words dark academia from people till they gain reading comprehension skills

[mv1simp]

Just Hold On, We’re Going Home ♥️

Max Verstappen x Fiancé! Reader

I got my eye on you, you’re everything that I see (I want your hot love and emotion, endlessly)

After a particularly bad argument with his father, Max is mentally checked out and needs to be pulled out of the dark place his mind has gone too. As his fiancé, you know just what to say to make him feel your love and bring him safely home.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, orgasm denial, I know I said I would never write subby max and that was apparently a LIE, but he’s more of a soft pure loverboy who needs you ok, you both have daddy issues, mild angst and childhood trauma, 3.1k WC

You can tell your fiancé’s mind is somewhere else right now, instead of at the intimate dinner you’re sharing at a cosy restaurant. You know this because you know Max well, having been friends before you two started dating, meeting as mutuals within the same extended group, and then online where you would both take a break from your demanding careers to enjoy a friendly grand theft auto competition.

Your friendship had gotten closer when you’d proved to be someone he could trust and always rely on. Especially when it came to talking about his father - a very multi layered relationship given that Max owed a large part of his F1 success to Jos’s discipline and the fact that, well, said discipline had involved emotional abuse on a good day and physical abuse on a bad one. It was a complex dynamic to unpack, and one that he didn’t really do with anyone - because he couldn’t trust anyone outside his family to not leak it to the media somehow. And within his family, the only one who came close to understanding was his little sister Victoria - who wanted to talk about it just as little as Max did.

However, you knew a thing or two about complex relationships with parents, growing up in a household with a luxury property developer tyrant of a father, and a homemaker mother who would never dare come between her husband and his demands for absolute perfection from his children, especially from you - the eldest. Similarly to Max, you owed a large part of your highly successful investment company and Oxford financial degree to your father’s attitude, which had been so sweet on days you performed, and then like a dark thunderstorm on the days you didn’t.

So you’d been the only one to see the look in Max’s eye one night when he’d had one too many to drink at a house party, and had wandered out into the garden by himself. You’d spotted him leaving, already having a growing soft spot for your friend at that stage, and had followed him out. It had taken you a while to find him amongst the dark sprawling bushes, but when you did, you promptly sat down next to the much taller Dutchman and didn’t ask him anything. Instead, you told him about the time you’d scored 99.9 on a notoriously difficult advanced calculus exam, and you’d proudly told your father about the result of your months of study, top in your class - and he’d responded by coldly demanding why you didn’t get the 100. What’d you say to him? Max slurred, morbidly intrigued by the story.

Nothing, I was way too upset I'd disappointed him. But I did go fight the Mathematics head professor about giving me the extra 0.1. You shrugged, telling him you probably should’ve just gone to frickin family therapy instead and saved yourself arguing for 45 minutes only to find out 99.9 was the highest possible mark anyways.

Max looked at you, blue eyes intense in the moonlight. You in turn looked back at him with nervous doe eyes, and when he didn’t say anything, anxiously started apologising. Perhaps you’d read his emotions wrong, you didn’t mean to overstep and relate to his own relationship with his father-

Max cuts you off to explain what had been on his mind. I’m sorry, you - you argued for 45 minutes with the department head for an extra 0.1? On top of 99.9? This time, when your gazes meet, you both burst into drunk giggles at the sheer absurdity of a five foot nothing, 15 year old schoolgirl going toe to toe with a grumpy old professor for such a thing.

He’d started opening up to you after that, bit by bit peeling back the onion layers, because you always met his confessions with no judgement because this was his narrative, and helped him reflect on his emotions and understand why, 20 years on, he still couldn't accept a compliment but easily responded to insults. And when you two finally became a couple after a very convoluted weekend in Ibiza - involving multiple schemes from both parties, various slutty outfit choices from Max that showed off his abs, and your use of one (1) Charles Leclerc to make his Dutch childhood karting rival jealous (a story for another time) - you’d heard the full tale of what Max’s upbringing had been like.

And now, 5 years on from the infamous Ibiza weekend, and sitting across from him at dinner as his fiancée, you know instantly from the look in his eyes what's troubling him. You touch his large hand gently to draw him back in, and with a startle he comes back to you, apologising. It’s been a shit last few races, yeah? You start, going straight to the source of his worries. And now a big one this weekend, Zandvoort, your home race.

Max sighs, nodding, grateful for your ability to pick up on what's on his mind without him needing to say it. On your drive home he rants passionately about all the bullshit decisions his team has been making and the problems with the car he's asked to get fix for months. You soothe him reassuringly, rubbing his hand where it rests firmly on your thigh as his other drives, chiming in to agree with his critiques and make him laugh with jokes to diffuse his tension.

And that night he shows you just how thankful he is for all your understanding, picking you up in a display of strength that always has you needy and dripping for him. He smirks as you beg him to take you to bed and fuck me, please Maxie, after he has you breathlessly stretched out on his large, thick fingers. Like the good fiance he is he gives you what you want, all his stress melting away with each strong thrust into your small frame underneath him, your tiny hands clinging desperately to his broad shoulders.

You're furious the next morning when you wake up to multiple calls that there'd been a massive PR scandal within one of your principal investing companies, sending your high profile clients into panic - including your father, who demanded you fly out to London right now to sort this out. You'd been ready to send your executive manager out instead, not wanting to miss this important race for Max - but he'd chuckled and reassured you he was sure he could handle it - having done some odd 200 races or another. So after giving him a guilty kiss, you two fly off in opposite directions. You'd meant to have arrived to the paddock by Saturday noon at the latest, in time for qualifying at least, but London takes longer than expected. You don't come until halfway through the race on Sunday, and see him take P2 after multiple mistakes on the track - both from him and his team. Despite the objectively good result, you know Max would not be pleased. Seeing the stormy expression on his face on the podium after he'd tersely greeted you post-race, you give him his space to cool off, knowing it's not personal. Instead you catch up with the other WAGs and laugh at Charles who still faintly blushes at the sight of you, thinking about Ibiza. But later, when you head to the Redbull garage, you hear raised voices arguing in Dutch - before Jos emerges from Max's room and storms away. You pause before deciding to go in, gently asking how he's doing.

Max, as you expected, scoffs and sarcastically asks how do you think he's doing. You continue reassuring him, being used to seeing him like this after a bad race, and place a soft hand on his shoulder to soothe him - only for him to rip it off you almost violently, making you flinch in surprise. He yells at you to stop pretending like you understood a damn thing, as if you'd have any idea what kind of high pressure he has to deal with compared to your comfortable office job.

You manage to hold it together as you tell him you're going to leave, you'll be flying back to Monaco and will talk to him there once he's calmed down. He rolls his eyes, telling you to get out, then and you make sure you're well away from the paddock and in the privacy of a car before you left yourself cry. Max had definitely been angry around you before, even enraged - but you'd never felt the full brunt of it come out and attack you so directly. Taking a deep breath, you focus on calming yourself down, as the argument brings up your anxieties from your own father - who had no problem raising his voice when he was angry. By the time you land in Monaco, you're ready to head back to the office, where you end up accidentally sleeping on your couch after tidying up the rest of your PR scandal.

The next day as you're coming home from work, unlocking the door to your shared apartment with Max, you stumble forward when the door is yanked open. On the other side is your rather panicked looking fiancee, who says that he'd thought that you- he swallows, looking like he was about to be sick -that you'd left. Forever. Perplexed, you tell him that you’d never do that, not without talking to him, and he launches into a frantic apology, saying that he regretted his words so much, that you didn't deserve to have him take his anger out onto you. Grateful for the sincere apology, you let him know with a genuine smile, saying that you're completely okay now, you had understood he’d been frustrated in the heat of the moment.

But Max's worried looks at you don't stop as you wander off to take a shower and then continue over your favourite dinner that he'd cooked, uncomfortable with the compliments you gave him about it - as per usual, still struggling to accept a kind word about anything he did. When you feel his upset gaze on you again when you're cuddled against his shirtless chest, watching a movie, you decide enough is enough and pressed pause to gently ask him what was on his mind.

That I just let all my anger out onto you like that without any hesitation. And the things I said about your job not being important - God, it’s something my dad would have said. His guilt at having hurt you with his cruel words make his blue eyes bright with the threat of tears. He says he couldn't just accept that you'd let it go because you thought it was fine, because it wasn't, not really, don't ever let me speak to you like that again, schat.

Bringing yourself up to straddle your fiance's wide lap, you settle in comfortably and closely examine the helpless look in his pretty eyes. It's rare for Max to get so worked about something like this, being the rather laid back guy he is off the track. But when he does get like this, all pent up from stress, his father’s expectations heavy on one shoulder and the fear of turning out like him on the other, there’s very few ways to pull him out of his head. Gun to your head, you’ll admit, you had your own personal favourite method for helping Max unwind. Because on nights like these, it's the the only time he'll hand the control over to you in the bedroom and the only place where he'll accept your compliments. With a teasing smile, you pepper him with gentle kisses, erasing away every tense line on his face.

Sure, Max you whisper breathily into his ear, biting the edge of it, I guess I did forgive you too easily. Maybe I should make you work for it, hmm? A delicious pink flush spreads across Max's cheeks, making you grin wickedly and press deep kisses into his soft mouth. He breathlessly whines when you pull away to tease your hand down his muscles chest, stopping just above his low waisted sweats. You can already feel how hard he is underneath you with the impressive semi he’s sporting. Choosing to ignore it, you climb off him and pull him along with you too. He follows you like a lost dog to where you walk over to the kitchen, dropping your hoodie as you went, to reveal a cute La Perla pink set underneath that he'd given you for an anniversary.

When you stop to lean against the counter, eyeing him coyly, he tilts his head down curiously - only to have you tangle your small hands through his messy, long locks and guide him all the way down, until he's on his knees below you. He looks positively delicious, all soft and flushed, as you coo that he needs to prove just how sorry he is, by putting that mean mouth of his to work and eating you out, yeah?

He nods eagerly, burying his large nose right into your core and breathing in, licking furiously through your thin panties and when he tries to yank the lacy garment out of the way, you swat his hand back, telling him no, not yet, he didn’t deserve it.

He whines openly then, teary and breathless against you as he kisses along your thighs, the swell of your ass, and then to your delicate ankle as you teasingly stop him coming any closer with a foot to his toned chest, your gold anklet dangling. Running a hand through his hair again, you tug on it firmly so you can smirk down at him when he begs you please, schat, I promise I’ll be s'good for you-

Your resolve is crumbling at seeing your normally in control fiancé reduced to putty in your small hands. Trying to maintain your willpower, you teasingly pull your pink bralette off first, enjoying the way Max's breath hitches, eyes wide with pure need, as he follows your hands ever so slowly slide your panties down your legs. But he still doesn't move, fists clenched into his thighs, desperate blue eyes looking up at you, waiting for your approval to touch you. You throw him a bone and slide one soft thigh over his broad shoulder, your other leg still leaning against the counter, giving him irresistible access to your dripping pussy. Go on then, baby, you tease, here's your reward.

He buries his tongue into you in half a millisecond, eating you out like he's kneeling at your altar and worshipping your thighs. His large hands squeeze your curvy ass, pulling you even closer onto his tongue as he hungrily eats you out like a starved man. You're moaning sweetly, telling him he's doing so good for you, it feels amazing, that you wonder how the world would react if they knew their favourite F1 champion was as good at eating pussy as he was at driving racecars.

Your praise has him keening, now desperately kissing and sucking your core, and somehow both your thighs have ended up draped across his strong shoulders, his large palms still squeezing your ass. This angle lets him slide in deeper than you’ve ever felt his mouth reach, face completely buried between your thick thighs, and with a few more talented flicks you’re lean back against the counter and squirting right onto his waiting tongue.

Dazed from the intensity of your orgasm, it takes you a few minutes to come down from your high, and Max slowly licks your clit in the meantime, toeing the line to overstimulation. Standing back up shakily from potentially the most mind blowing oral you've ever had in your life, you tilt his chin up to look at you with a gentle hand, giving him a kiss because he was such a good boy, all for me, yeah baby?

He nods furiously, almost looking like a cute Labrador with his blonde hair and blue eyes and you giggle at the mental image, telling him he’s earned his next treat. Max practically stumbles after you as you gently tug him up by his jaw and back over to the comfortable sofa, where he sits down after you playfully shove his chest. His muscular thighs spread wide to make a perfect throne for you to climb onto. He's still in his boxers, his bulge straining against the damp material, and you tease him with a smug smirk, asking if he'd already cum in his pants just from eating you out, like a dirty little perv?

He desperately moans out his No, no, promise I didn’t, held it all back to fill inside you, please- He becomes breathless from your mean hands that tease his cock further through his boxers. When he tried to redirect you, guiding your hand under his boxers to where he really needs it, you shove him away and tell him to keep his hands to himself. You demand to know why he thinks he deserves to put his gross, sticky cum anywhere near your sweet, precious hole, is he at least going to use some manners and ask politely?

Max pants, face flushed and blonde strands attractively stuck to his forehead as he feverishly begs you, please, schat, he needed to be inside of you so bad, he couldn't take it, hadn't he been so good for you already? You can tell your fiance is close to his tipping point, and you almost send him over the edge with a smooth motion as you slip his fully erect, huge cock out of his boxers and start lazily jerking him off. Sliding your fingers into his mouth for him to lick, you smirk as he does exactly that. Using his spit on your hands to give him a couple good pumps - making his breath hitch as he struggles to hold back his orgasm - you guide his throbbing length to your dripping pussy, which is so ready for a second round.

Max screws his eyes shut, head thrown back, as you wickedly torment him some more, dragging his tip teasingly along your puffy lips, drenching him with your slick. His hands dig into the sofa, desperately trying to resist the urge to touch you like you'd ordered him to earlier. And when you finally sink down on him, all the way to his base, he's moaning and begging again, tears in the corner of his eyes as you slowly ride him - edging his poor cock with the relief of your tight, warm cunny but not giving it quite enough pressure. And when your thighs are starting to get tired from the effort, and Max has ripped holes on your sofa while gripping the fabric, you know it's time to let him take control again.

Guiding his hands gently to your waist, you lean forward into his firm chest to whisper Maxie, baby, it's too much for you, can he please help you out and make you cum again-

His eyes snap open, wide blue eyes coming to stare into your pleading doe ones as you hand the power over to him, all dished up on a silver platter with a pretty please. He brings his forehead forward to lean against yours, your ragged breaths meeting as you feel shivers run up your spine in anticipation of what’s coming. Then, with an all too familiar smirk returning to his face, he tightens his hands into a bruising grip on your waist and easily begins bouncing you up and down on his fat cock. His wide thighs, which had been straining in an effort to hold back, now flex as he thrusts deeply into you from below, making you wail at the furious change in pace and you're screaming his name, proving once again just how good he makes you feel. You two barely last another few seconds before you're cumming, your name on his lips as he pumps an obscenely thick creampie into you.

You stay like that for a while, sweaty and tangled in each others arms, exchanging gentle kisses and loving affirmations with him still deep inside you, until sleep starts to take over. Later, after you'd showered because wow, that had been a particularly filthy session, you find yourself stroking his damp hair as he lies against your chest, the rest of his body on the bed to keep the weight off you. Thank you, liefje, he murmurs sleepily against you. At your inquisitive hmm? he presses a loving kiss to your skin, telling you his thanks was for always knowing how to calm me down. For always bringing me back home. I love you.

You smile in the dark, warmth blooming across your chest as you press a kiss to his head. Always, Max, just like you do for me. I love you too.

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A/N: SOO i never thought i'd write this but after zandervoot im manifesting the return of max supremacy with this. had to rewrite a bunch of times cause genuinly couldn’t picture max as sub instead of dom so lmk what u guys think!! Also… should i do a part 2 where its the reader with daddy issues instead hehehe 😼😼😮‍💨

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

series summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

🔎 chapter one: “love is short but forgetting is so long”

🔎 chapter two: “did the love affair mail you too?”

🔎 chapter three: “you kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath”

chapter four: “help, I’m still at the restaurant” -> chapter five

‼️ best friends in this chapter: nikola (nik) , dorothy (dottie) and beatrice (betty). They all know each other from Oxford University where the four of them studied creative writing.

word count: +5,1k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

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agostinabff: hope you have a lovely week off mon amour!! You deserve it. We love you 💘

↳ yourusername: thank u for being the best part of my life 💌

y/nstan: omg GIRL we are the same person wtf 😭

user4: who is he and where can i find him to KILL HIM?????

nikolabff: is my air bnb recommendation good enough ????? (That looks disgusting, uber eats exists darling)

nikolabff: can't wait for tomorrow!! London should be scared of us 😈

nikolabff: did dorothy call you? She isn't answering my calls

↳ yourusername: babes!!!! Aaaaaa i'm so excited. I just ended call with dottie. She arrived safe and well, i missed you guys so much 😭 did betty text you?

↳ nikolabff: tbh she didn't but you know how she is. can't wait to see you all tomorrow!!

arthurleclerc: hey y/n i know this may be weird but just wanted to say, i read your book and it is amazing! my brother was an idiot you know? you are an amazimg person im sure you'll find someone who loves you deeply (if you didn't already. maybe you did) okay, i don't bother you any longer. hope we can meet again someday!

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ a week ago 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“There'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you. Both of these things can be true. There is happiness, past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror in the nightfall haunted by the look in my eyes that would've loved you for a lifetime and leave it all behind. Tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk? When did all our lessons start to look like weapons pointed at my deepest hurt? I hope she'll be a beautiful fool who takes my spot next to you. No, I didn't mean that. Sorry, I can't see facts through all of my fury. You haven't met the new me yet” you read that piece out loud from your personal journal to your therapist. She stayed silent for a while. You looked over at her knowing you skipped some parts but what you read in the end sank in.

“I think there’s a lot to discuss from just that single piece you wrote. But I wanna ask you something before anything else: do you really believe there will be happiness after him?” your therapist made you a question that felt like daggers pinching you that resulted in leaving you breathless for a few seconds. you loved and hated therapy for this reason. There were things you couldn’t question by yourself  because you never thought about it and things you didn’t know how to answer like this one.  

“I wish I could say yes. But i don't think i’ve been happy since he left” saying that out loud hurt yourself even more. It was not something easy to admit and accept.  But it was the truth. You have never felt really happy since then. 

She nodded, writing down in her notebook “but do you believe you can be happy without him? Why is he still so important or has so much space in your life that you can't be happy if he isn’t there? Why were you happy when he was with you?” as always, too many questions with so few answers. You felt exhausted, frustrated by the fact you didn't know what to think about it all. 

“I'm sure I want to be happy, I can't live like this anymore. I'm tired” you assured her and  yourself. You took a few seconds to think and she respected that. “I guess if I want to then I can, right? I mean, I talk to my friends and all of them tell me time and time again ‘don't let what happened define you’ and I try but I don't know why it is really hard for me” you explained looking at the floor. 

“And what’s that definition of yourself?”

“That i'm not worthy of love i guess. that there will always be someone better than me, more attractive, more lovable, more interesting. I can't be the one, for anyone” admitting it felt like an elephant stepped on you and you just died in the act. Your therapist, Maria, nodded looking at you. 

“Well, but in what you wrote you tell this woman he left you for, that you hope she is a fool like you, right?” she intervened. You nodded. “What can you tell me about it?”

You looked at your hands a bit sweaty. “I really don’t know. I mean her existence made me compare myself to her. She is so different. It made me feel all of those things I said before. And maybe i blamed her existence because if she didn't existed then, charles would still be here” 

“You think so?” 

“I guess, yeah” you looked at her. She wrote down more stuff on that notebook you were so intrigued by. 

“So, for you, there doesn't exist the possibility that maybe he just stopped loving you? Like even if she existed or not - could be any other woman or could be no one at all. Would it hurt more if he just stopped loving you?” you felt your brain make a 180 turn on itself. 

“I don’t know. Maybe, yeah, I mean. I Think it’s easier to blame someone then not have an explanation for it” your therapist nodded. 

“So,  why would she occupy your same place then? If you are different from each other, why would she be just like you? As a replacement it seems and at the same time who’s at fault for all of this situation and insecurities. And before you answer, I think we can connect that to what happened between your dad and mom, right?” she saw your face so confused she knew this was gonna be the end of the session so you could think about it during the next two weeks. “You told me you discovered your dad cheated on your mom. So all you ever dreamed was to find someone who would be better than him, to prove yourself that that isn’t your destiny, just like your mom. And then Charles left you for this other girl. And everything you built up in your mind to try to believe in love and to escape from the reality you had to live through, then it crumbled down in that instant. Leaving you feeling like there was no way you could be worthy of love, because you tried but Charles did exactly what your dad did to your mother. And since then you couldn’t date anyone else. This is a theory, I'm not saying it is what it is of course. But it seems that if they didn't exist then you wouldn’t be this hurt and maybe forgive charles,as you said when you wrote ‘and leave it all behind’ just like your mom did with your dad”

Her words echoed in your head for a while. The knot in your throat intensified. “Charles was my everything just like my parents were. And after what happened, with Charles and my dad, I guess I let that define me. I wanted to show myself that the love i’ve seen in books and movies existed, not like in my house. I wanted to make things right. In a way, to mend what hurt me the most. The betrayal of my dad. So I put Charles under that pressure and maybe that made things the way they went down. I don’t know to be honest. I don’t know why I want alexandra to be like me. Maybe that’s another way of convincing myself I'm not the only fool in this mess.”

“I don’t think you are a fool. Relationships are complicated and the reason he decided to leave could be based on a million reasons, and even in that situation. Maybe any of them are because of you or who you are as a person. People are complex and most times messy. Feelings aren’t easy to control or understand” she explained to you. “So, coming back to this new encounter you had with him, how did you feel about it?” 

“It felt weird, very uncomfortable to be around him. But at the same time a force drove me closer to him. I wanted to be closer. Ask him everything and at the same time punch him. He felt the same to be honest. Just like the previous day he left, when everything was alright.” you pulled a face you didn't know how to describe at that moment.  

“And you felt the same?”

“No i think, i didn’t” she nodded and half smiled at my answer. 

“Then, what’s the new you he didn’t meet?” 

“Who i am now i guess”

“And who are you?” her question made you realize you didn’t know how to answer that question yet. You knew you were different, because you felt different although stuck dealing with the aftermath of that relationship. She noticed your silence (because she knew all too well you didn’t know how to answer it) and smiled gently.

“Alright, y/N. Let’s leave it here and continue next session, okay? See you in two weeks”

Who the fuck were you now? 

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Mornings at your balcony were your favorite moment during the day. Your coffee was warm and comforting on a grey and windy day. You were covered in clothes and blankets. You needed that moment anyway. You wouldn’t let the winter win. You watched your neighbor cleaning his living room. He had his window opened so you could see a bit of what he was doing. However, you didn't see him very well because you didn't have your glasses on so it’s a bit blurry. You thought there was someone else with him. Probably a girl.but you weren’t that interested.the only thing you hated about your balcony was the fact that the view was partially blocked by that damn house up the hill. 

After a while, you took your stuff and went into your house again. You felt warmer instantly. You left the blankets on the coach and washed up what you used to have for breakfast a few minutes ago. You had to pack as soon as possible. On saturday, you travel to london to see your college friends and also because your friend franco, another formula one driver you met by chance at a college party, it was his birthday party. You wanted that week to be a good one. Be a week you genuinely enjoy and just be happy.

But after everything that happened the last month around Charles, it was really difficult. Your therapist was a really good help of course. But you hated not knowing how to handle all of these feelings you didn’t understand and that paralyze you. 

You only had one phrase in your head: ‘no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you’.

You couldn’t think of Charles as a bad man, or person or anything. Yes, he was stupid. And he destroyed your self esteem. And your trust. And yes, you still were kind of stuck in that restaurant. But you also had some kind of responsibility. And that also troubled you a lot. 

Your self esteem shouldn’t be defined by anyone else but you. What do you think about yourself? Who are you? That was your fault. You didn’t know how that would affect destiny for him to leave you but well, it is what it is yet. You kind of thought that maybe it’s the price you had to pay for putting him in a role he didn't want to be in. maybe you were too much. Too intense. Too dependent. He only wanted someone to talk and have fun with. But you wanted a good husband at 18, and a good father, and the one who would take away your pain and fix your traumas. 

Maybe he wasn’t the only one who hurt someone, but you also hurt him in some way.

Ten years in, and you still couldn’t explain what happened. What did you do or not do for him to stop loving you? Or perhaps you can actually stop loving someone but you didn't experience it yet. 

You sighed, reaching your travelling suitcase from on top of your closet. You almost fell so you had to grab a chair from your kitchen. You loved travelling but packing was a nightmare (also, because you couldn’t decide which outfits were good so you had to take two suitcases and pay extra everytime. Not that you didn't have the money and it was a problem. But you knew it was an unnecessary spend). 

That’s when you remembered how it was like to travel with charles. And you hated yourself for remembering his stupid laugh so cute it made your heart melt every time. Would he still laugh like that? Maybe it was best not to know it. 

If you were younger and he came back, you’d probably forgive him and leave it all behind just to be happy with him. But now, you wanted to leave everything behind: him, his family, the memories, the feelings, the hurt. And maybe that is what changed.

That was the new you.

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Your laugh was so liberating. Your hair was free in the wind. He was driving through the Monaco coast. It was finally summer break and you decided to have a picnic at the beach. His hand on your tight. David Guetta on the radio. You were singing along without a care in the world. 

Your fingers brushed his hand making him look at you through his sun glasses in a beautiful cute smile. 

“You look gorgeous, cherie” you saw his lips pronounce those words in slow motion, feeling your every fiber get wild inside you. Your smile was so big and your cheeks pink. He could melt forever just to see you this happy. You wanted to freeze those moments with him and live in them forever.

“I love you, Charles,” you said so warmly and softly. It was your romance movie playing over and over again. That’s how you felt. But when he heard you say those words, his face turned serious. Almost pulled a face of disgust. For some reason you got so scared you wanted to jump out of the car to save your life. 

You wanted to save your life. 

He noticed you wanted to escape so he tightened his grip on you tightly, hurting you but he wasn’t letting you go away. 

“Charles, let go of me” you said almost in a whisper. Your breath was fast. You needed to jump. You started fighting so he would let you go.

“Stop, cherie. We’re gonna have our happily ever after, isn’t that what you wanted?” he said, trying to drive and grab you at the same time. You started crying not knowing what to answer. The anxiety took over you.

“You said you loved me cherie, you can’t go now” he was crying and let go of the steering wheel. You got desperate seeing the car had no control and you were at the Monaco cliffs.

“Charles! CHARLES!” you screamed from the top of your lungs as you watched both of you exiting the driveway into nowhere. All the sea around you. Slow motion Charles looked at you with a huge smile. 

“Happily ever after baby” he said and you looked horrorized. But when you were about to scream again as if that would change anything.

Everything went black. 

You woke up drowning in cold sweat and tears. Your heart was beating too fast for your liking. The feeling you had in that moment of pure confusion was scared to death. For a moment you didn’t know if you were alive or dead. Your room was pitch black so it kinda felt like you died. But you were thinking and you thought there was no way you could think when dead, so you were alive. 

After a few seconds of paralysis, you react and turn on your light from your bed table. You took a deep breath and scrubbed your face to wake yourself up. Your face was wet still from your tears. The moment you were conscious again you felt defeated. It was the third time in the night you were having this kind of nightmares, now three days in a row. You laid back again in bed for a moment.frustration was all over your face. You were so tired of living like this. Yet, you didn’t know how to stop. You grabbed your phone to see what time it was. It showed 5:46 am. You snarled, hating your brain more than anything in the world. 

You got up from bed and went straight to the bathroom to wash your face. You knew all too well you couldn’t be able to fall asleep again nor you wanted to. It has been a terrible night already. So you let your brain win once again. 

You went downstairs to your studio where it was warm. Sun isn't out yet, so here you’ll be warmer. If not, you probably would have chosen the balcony as always. Or the restaurant, although you haven't come back to it since the last encounter with charles. You just didn’t want to go back there ever again. Just like the time he left. 

You sat on your chair at your desk. Eyes tired. You opened your journal. You didn’t remember writing so much like in the past week or so. But you had so many thoughts to write sometimes it got difficult for you to function properly. You just had to stay at home writing non-stop. Not only your upcoming book but your feelings. After the dream you had, a lot must be processed. 

I know I'm probably better off on my own than loving a man who didn't know what he had. And I see the permanent damage he did to me. 

Never again. 

I just wish I could forget when it was magic. 

But I also just wish you could’ve been a better man.  

You sighed reading your words again on paper. You felt worried about yourself. Like, maybe you were broken and couldn’t ever be fixed. You were scared that you wouldn’t be able to fix yourself back up again. Or even thinking that maybe you were born broken so how could you fix yourself then? You were scared there was no way out of this pain, agony, self hatred, nightmare you have lived these past years… or your whole life. You dreamed about being in love again with someone so different from charles yet maybe who makes you feel the same high. Or maybe higher erasing every trace of him or memory of your dad. Now lines were blurry. You didn’t want to think about your dad, not only because he was gone and you couldn’t do anything about it, but because it felt weird linking him in some way to charles, but if your therapist said so, maybe you were more troubled than you thought. 

Would there be a good guy? Do they even exist? You guessed you’ve never met one of them yet. 

I hold onto this pride because, these days, it's all I have. And I gave you my best, and we both know you can't say the same. 

Were you writing about him? Or about your dad?

You stared at the wall thinking about the answer that never came around. 

Just like the both of them did when it came to you. 

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

It was 10 am in the morning already. You didn’t sleep a bit. You’ve been in a zoom meeting since 8. Talks about the movie in the making were held. Casting started so they sent you a few ones they think are perfect for the roles so you have to watch them after the meeting. Also, they go through the aesthetic and changes they will make from the book, and that’s why this meeting has been so long. They needed to discuss everything with you to make sure you agreed. They wanted to be respectful with your work and you appreciate it very much. It made you feel important. In other news, they thought that taylor swift could make the soundtrack for the movie and you got very excited about it. You loved Taylor's songwriting and believed (and were almost sure) she would make the perfect song for the movie. 

It was gonna be a long day ahead, full of work and watching hours of footage from castings. But it was for your dream. You still couldn’t believe you had your book be a movie in the making. It still feels surreal. 

Then you remembered charles’ ex followed you and liked your posts. And you were mad at him again. You were sure (no doubts at all for real), she didn't know who you were. Because he kept you buried like you were sin. 

A part of you wanted to believe he did it because he knew he fucked up and didn’t want people to judge him for his lack of sympathy towards his last lover. But at the same time you just found it cruel behavior with no reason at all to do that. You kinda felt dirty as if you were bad. Very bad. Banned from his life. 

You shook your head, getting yourself back to the present time and starting working again. Your lack of rest doesn't help in getting distracted with thought every minute but you were doing the best you could. Plus, work helps you not to think about anything else. And that’s good. 

You really needed a break from thinking. 

⋆˚࿔ finally the london trip arrived 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

yourusername made a post

liked by nikolabff, beatricebff, francolapinto, landonorris and 678,435 others

yourusername: first few days back in london = first few days of happiness ❤️‍🩹

tagged: @nikolabff , @beatricebff , @dorothybff and @francolapinto

view more comments

user345: girl is happy we are happy

user3: omg such QUEENS

↳ francolapinto: i guess ur not talking about me

↳ user3: oh im so talking about you too

↳ francolapinto: 🤨

nikolebff: the girls girled

dorothybff: happy looks very hot on you darling 🫦

beatricebff: can you kiss already??????

↳ yourusername: no ❤️

nikolabff: gossip so good bro was giggling and kicking his feet

↳ francolapinto: it was indeed

↳ alexalbon: better bring that gossip to the paddok asap

↳ yourusername: it's CONFIDENTIAL

↳ alexalbon: booooooo ur so boring

↳ oscarpiastri: i wanna be part of this group please

↳ nikolabff: yes you can sir

↳ francolapinto: i thought no one else was allowed

↳ nikolabff: stfu 🩷

User231: i love this crossover of y/n and formula 1 drivers. I would've never expected it tbh

↳ franstan: same!!! I love it!! Didn't know she was friends with franco

↳ user354: i think they met a few years ago, y/n was asked about it on insta questions and she said they met randomly at a college party

↳ franstan: interesting

User1: girl!!! You look so good omg

francolapinto: te amo amiga so happy to see you happy ❤️‍🩹

↳ yourusername: te amo tambien ❤️‍🩹

↳ user778: EXCUSE YOU ???????

↳ franstan7: OMG OMG OMG

user4: WHAT IS HAPPENING ?

user324: so no one is gonna talk about lando world champion fucking norris being on the likes ????? 🤨🤨🤨🤨

↳ landostan: that was what i was thinking

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ finally the london trip arrived 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Laughter was all over the place as well as a lot of bottles of alcohol with names you haven’t seen in your life. It was finally Saturday night, which meant it was Franco's birthday celebration. And because it was his birthday of course all the decorations were argentina flags everywhere and boca junior club t-shirts for everyone, including you. As you got to his house you were given one at the door to wear it. Fortunately, for you it didn’t ruin your outfit and I could say it looked great on you. Or well, that’s what franco said to you while preparing you a drink you haven’t ever tried before. He said it was called fernet with coke. You were already a bit drunk because you were drinking vodka with the girls while getting ready. You didn’t like vodka that much but after everything that happened in your life, you kinda felt the urge to drown in vodka or tequila. Mi gente latino music was playing non-stop. You knew Franco loved duki and bizarrap, and they were actually at the party. You couldn’t talk to them yet. So everything was a bit crazy even if you weren’t that many people. He was just a close friend to franco. So i guess it was like 60 people. Way too many people to be honest but for a famous 2 times world champion it was really a small amount of people so it was super intimate. 

“There you go, hermosa” he said, handing you the glass full of black liquid. You looked at it a bit worried in a funny way and grabbed it. He let out a cute laugh. “Try it, you’re gonna like it, i promise” he encouraged you. He couldn’t resist the view of you with that boca juniors on. Probably, the combination of you and that was his heaven made on earth. He was really down for you, since it felt like forever. Probably since that night at that party back 6 years ago or so. You always have a different light that anyone can match. and that’s what he liked most about you along with your authenticity. You were so unique to him. He looked at you biting his lip a little trying not to be so obvious. 

You tried the drink looking into his eyes. You were really close  but you felt really comfortable. Your friends have left you alone with him the minute he came forward to  you, of course. They really believed you could work out with him. And after vodka and long talks about it with them, maybe you would give it a try. But it scared you, you didn’t want to use him as a friend. So it was a risky situation in your opinion. Although, you could see he liked you for a long time now. And you found him funny and really attractive in your opinion. You give it a few more sips to taste it fully. “Oh I think I like it,” you said, giving him a funny smile. 

“I told you. I’m the best fernet preparer in this whole country… and also, I did it with love just for you” he said, making you laugh and blush after the last sentence he said. 

“I’m sure it’s the love you put in it” you gave it another sip looking at him. His face turned red and let out such a cute giggle. Alcohol was making you melt for your best friend? We guess so.

He got closer grabbing your waist and planted a sweet kiss on your cheek making you nervous as you never felt for a long time. However, it felt weird. Maybe as if this shouldn’t be happening. 

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Franco’s house was enormous. The party was being held at the gallery near his garden. It was cold but the lights and the people stuck to each other made it warmer. You were with your girls again dancing to bad bunny and los del espacio songs. You didn’t understand a word because Spanish was definitely not your talent. You tried to learn because of Franco, and he tried to teach you, but failed every time. You did learn a few words anyway but speaking fluidly was something you won’t ever do. Or that’s what you thought about it. It was your third fernet. You didn’t know it was so good. Also it could make you so drunk. And you were way too drunk by now but you never felt so happy. You were laughing about anything and everything. Dancing without a care in the world. Enjoying being surrounded by your friends. Charles wasn’t on your mind nor any trace of him or his family or the history behind you two. Memories have faded away, washed by the alcohol in your veins. You didn’t remember having so much fun since forever. Your girls were right. Life was so much more than Charles, you were so much more than what you were with him. And all of this you have it because of you and you alone. In that moment you felt liberated. Free from the curse it was put on you. Free of judgment. Free of insecurities. Until you saw that damn mullet and when it turned around you felt kind of speechless. Your eyes locked in that man you didn’t know but he was so hypnotic. You couldn’t stop looking at him. 

“Girl! Close your mouth, you're drooling! Is it for franco, huh?” Nikola joked when she saw you like that, making you laugh while shaking your head. 

“No it isn’t girls, is that guy over there i don’t  know who he is but he is so beautiful” you said pointing your finger in his direction unconsciously. Because when you looked at him again he was looking at you straight in the eyes. You almost freaked out and ran away from there. His fucking smile. What the hell is happening to you? Your friends looked over at him as well with no simulation at all. The four of you were pretty obvious. And that’s when another guy turned around to see where his mate was looking over with that face. Nikola almost fell to the floor.

She turned around freaked out, making all of you stop looking at them so weird. Alcohol makes you behave so embarrassing for your liking. 

“Holy shit girls, it’s oscar fucking piastri and lando norris” her eyes were leaving her face for a bit. You grabbed her arms still confused. You didn’t know them but you heard nik talking about that oscar a few times. Betty and Dottie looked over at them again but they were gone. 

“Okay they are gone nik” dottie said. Betty took a sip from her drink. You wanted to say something but you felt someone grab your waist from behind and kiss your head.

“Hello ladies” of course it had to be franco. You smiled nervously looking at your friends. One of your hands placed over Franco's arms not wanting him to let go. You liked it. Or that’s what you drowned in alcohol though about it. 

“Hello mister, i guess we will grab more drinks at the bar, goodbye bye byeee” Betty said, taking her two girls with her leaving you alone with franco. You laughed and resigned. Nik gave franco a warning sign ‘im watching you’ making franco laugh too. And they disappeared through the people dancing and talking. 

He kissed your cheek letting you go a bit so you could turn around to face him. “Hey handsome, where have you been? Are you having fun?” you said surrounding his neck with your arms and he did the same around your waist. He nodded in a smile. 

“Now that I'm back with you, I'm really having fun,” he said cheeky.

“Oh shut up” you said rolling your eyes funny because of his flirty side. 

“Hey, I'm telling the truth. I was with my school friends though ,they came from home” he told you and made you smile while stroking the curls on his head gently. Your fingers in his hair sent shivers down his spine. He couldn’t stop looking at your lips and you noticed. But you liked it so you let him. 

“I’m happy you’re enjoying your night fran. You deserve all of this love, world champion” you said sweetly looking at his eyes so shiny and deep green right now. Your words made him melt. 

And there were you, the girl who can win over the man known for being the most professional at flirting. You always win with him. He is so down bad for you he felt stupid. You were so beautiful in his eyes. So amazing. He hated Charles so much. He even celebrated when he retired. They couldn't even pretend to like each other and actually it was one of the most famous feuds between drivers in the history of the sport. Franco just couldn’t comment anything positive about charles. Even if he tried he just couldn’t. The most infamous moment was when Charles won his first championship and he was asked about it. He said he didn’t want to comment about it because he had nothing to comment about. So franco started to be known as the guy who was nice to everyone except for charles leclerc. And it was hilarious to see because no one knew why. And the why was always you. 

Franco wanted to have you and couldn’t. Charles had left you alone and destroyed another woman. How could he? Franco took that as an insult. You were an amazing woman. The most amazing woman he has ever met and that asshole did that to you. He just couldn’t stand him. Breathing the same air as Charles was unbearable for him. 

All of these thoughts rambling around and neither of you didn’t realize you were kissing already. Your lips melting into each other in the sweetest and softest kiss you have ever had. Even better than any kiss Charles could have given you before. You hated yourself for comparing every guy in your life with Charles, but you couldn’t help it. But this felt different. It was sweet but at the same time it felt so wrong. 

But you couldn’t stop. 

And you didn’t want to.

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter fiver: here.

author's note: things are getting complicated around here!!!

tag list: : @a-beaverhausen , @priniya , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting

[junipercreeps]

🔖 Chapter Three - I Want To Believe You It took an eternity for the siblings to finish their encounter. When I finally mustered the courage to emerge from between the shelves and leave the library, three students stood not far from the entrance. All three looked at me first and then at each other. I wasn't sure why, but I had a feeling that two of the three were the siblings.

I bought some snacks and drinks in a small shop off campus. There were three meals a day and also some self-service canteens, but I liked the feeling of not necessarily having to leave my room just because I was hungry.

My involuntary observations in the Radcliffe Library were still occupying me when it was already dark. Outside my room door, I heard voices - students who had already made friends and were spending time together in the evenings, presumably going to an off-campus bar to toast a good time together here at Oxford.

I wasn't particularly sociable. People didn't usually like me because I never had much to say and was just a boring person.

But I have to admit that I felt lonely after today. I wanted to tell someone about my experience, tell them about my mother's letter.

The next day, I made a plan for what I wanted to explore before the lectures started in two days. It was clear to me that I didn't want to go to any of the libraries until all the buildings were officially filled with a multitude of students.

So, I walked over to the Dining Hall and found a place where I could have breakfast. The selection of food was incredible, but I simply chose scrambled eggs and some orange juice. It reminded me of my Aunt Abby and made me feel a little less alone.

Actually, I was not alone. Dozens of students were milling around me, chatting. About their journey, about their rooms. About their grades and their future studies.

I listened and was somehow a part of them. As I got up to continue looking around the campus, someone even said, "See you!" to me and I waved a friendly goodbye to the group.

After breakfast, I felt much better than yesterday, even though it looked like rain, and the dense fog that had settled between the buildings overnight didn't seem to want to dissipate.

I spent most of the morning trying to memorize where my first lectures would be held tomorrow. The anticipation of being able to focus on my studies soon distracted me from my uncertainty about the student fraternity.

It was almost afternoon when I fell onto my bed, feeling slightly exhausted, and wondered if my parents might call me today. However, after several attempts, I received only a message from my father saying they would get in touch as soon as they landed back in London.

I sighed and turned to my side. I could look out of one of the two windows and watched the leaves of the oak tree in front of my dorm gently swaying in the wind.

At home I had been running a lot when loneliness overtook me. Nature always made me feel like I wasn't really alone after all. The rustling of leaves, the cracking of branches, and the smell of earth and plants would heal me. So, I decided to throw on my jogging clothes and go for a run.

At first, I considered taking the path through Trinity College Gardens, but then I decided to run a longer route through the New Marston Meadows.

It turned out to be the right decision.

Even though it started thundering about halfway through my run, the exercise and the view did me so much good that my concerns about Samuin and the strange siblings practically vanished.

On the way back, dark clouds gathered in the sky, and I took a break on a wooden bench. I couldn't help but smile as I read the small silver plaque. By chance, I was sitting on the Tolkien Bench, overlooking the narrow Cherwell River. The slightly rippled surface of the water was gradually being broken by heavy raindrops. That was my sign that it was time to jog back to the dormitory.

I had only taken about twenty steps when I felt the hairs on my neck stand on end. It was as if someone was watching me.

The same feeling I had when I had spotted the three students outside the Radcliffe Library—or when they had spotted me.

I turned around and looked back at the bench. But the path was empty except for an elderly lady or gentleman with a small terrier in the distance. I couldn't really make out if it was him or her anymore. I glanced over at the trees, but there was no one there either. So, I jogged on slowly until about a minute later, a strange noise came from the bushes by the river.

"Hello?" I called out and stopped.

At first, there was nothing to hear except for the intensifying rain. But then there were footsteps, and when I turned around, there were two hooded figures, and one of them softly said, "Hello, June," before the second one held a cloth that smelled sweetly to my mouth, and I subsequently lost consciousness.

When I woke up, the first thing I felt was a pounding pain behind my eyes. I had never had a migraine in my life, but this is what I imagined it to be like. My mouth was dry, my back hurt, and I groaned in distress.

It was difficult to orient myself because everything around me was dark, and it took a moment for me to realize that my eyes were covered. I was sitting on a cold, hard floor, on my knees, with my hands tied behind my back. I could feel the warmth of other bodies right next to me and behind me.

One of them was speaking, but I was still so disoriented that I couldn't understand their words. Or rather, their words just didn't make sense to me. I pondered what my options were and how to best survive after being kidnapped, but my thoughts and my logic were failing me.

All I felt was raw panic and that nagging pain behind my eyes.

"Please," a female voice whispered to my right. "My parents have money."

After a short silence, there was deafening laughter, and I froze because that laughter sounded very familiar.

"Dear, all our parents have money," said the girl from the library yesterday, in her arrogant tone.

A voice that was unfamiliar to me said boredly, "Shall we begin? I have plans later."

And then, with a sudden jerk that made me flinch, the blindfold was ripped off my head.

I was sitting on a dark stone floor with deep grooves, and it took me a while to recognize runes and symbols that undoubtedly had some meaning, but whose origin I was not yet familiar with.

"Some of you may already know what's going to happen. For those who haven't figured it out yet: Welcome to Samuin."

I blinked and tried to shift my weight to alleviate the pain in my knees. Samuin. So, this was the prestigious student association my mother had praised so highly? Someone behind me laughed bitterly.

"Well, great. An association that has to abduct us with such a ridiculous initiation ritual. Did you get this from your favourite movie or something?"

There was little light in the room, but slowly I realized that I was crouching in the middle of a vault with at least six others. We were surrounded by students in black robes. Each of them had their hoods up and was gazing in our direction.

In the stone walls, there were small niches at regular intervals where candles, as the only source of light, broke through the shadows of the vault.

"Nolan Delvaux," someone said to the person standing in the middle on one of the three steps to the left of me. The vault was constructed in such a way that we had to look up at the people who were talking. Around us were three larger ascending steps where you could sit comfortably.

I recognized by the voice that the person in the middle must be the student from the library. She nodded and repeated the name. "Nolan Delvaux. You're quite bold for someone whose father had to dip into their trust fund to get you in here."

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Nolan snapped irritably. However, the woman beneath the robe now turned her attention to the rest of us and pompously spread her arms wide.

"Each of you will now answer three questions. If we like your answers, you can consider yourselves novices of Samuin. Until you have proven your loyalty to us. You don't need to know more for today."

I frowned and watched as seven hooded figures descended the three sets of stairs, each one positioning themselves in front of one of us. While they helped us to our feet, they didn't untie the bonds that still held our hands behind our backs.

"Can you stand?" the man beneath the hood in front of me asked.

"Looks like it," I replied, realizing how annoyed I sounded, which was exactly how I felt. I was annoyed by this childish abduction game, which, in reality, was neither childish nor appropriate.

"Couldn't you come up with something better to initiate your novices?" I asked, and the man in front of me tilted his head slightly—whether he was amused or considering throwing me out again, I couldn't tell.

My mother's words came to mind, and I imagined how disappointed she would be if I were to tell her that Samuin didn't want me because I couldn't even pass an initiation rite.

Murmurs went up next to me. The girl who earlier wanted to offer money for her release whimpered in anguish, but the student in front of her only said. "A simple question, Jocelyn. Answer it or you can fuck off and explain to your parents why you are unworthy."

"Focus on me," said the student in front of me. His voice was demanding, but also engaging. I would have liked to see his face at that moment.

"Ready for your first question?"

"That was actually the second," I smart-mouthed, earning a soft laugh.

"What was it like for you when your best friend grabbed your boyfriend and let him take her virginity at your aunt's holiday home."

I suddenly felt cold.

He couldn't have known that. But he did know.

My eyes were wide, otherwise I controlled my facial expressions as best I could.

"How could it have been? It was a bit of an end of the world for a seventeen year old," I said quietly, trying very desperately to suppress the memories of that day. The surprised faces of Grace and Sam. The months after, when they became a couple and I faded further and further into the background. Physically and mentally.

"Did you watch Audrey and Corbin at the Radcliffe Library yesterday?"

I blushed. That was the name of the student who let her brother take her, so. Audrey.

"I'll rephrase the question," the student said, taking a half step closer. "Did you enjoy it when you saw Audrey and Corbin-" I interrupted him. "I'm answering your first question," I said quietly. "Yes. I watched them do it, unfortunately. Which I would describe as more of an involuntary listening."

My counterpart took a full step towards me this time, reached around my body, touched my bonds and came very close with his hood to my ear.

"What would you do to finally get the recognition from your parents that you deserve? To finally be seen?"

I looked ahead to the place where Audrey was standing. It looked like she was looking in my direction, I couldn't tell exactly through her wide hood. Around me, the shackles were already being untied by several other novices. The warmth of his hands sent a shiver down my spine and his breath, his voice. I closed my eyes and said softly but clearly, "Anything."

And wished that I could have believed myself at that moment.

[theyourstruly]

Arriving at the train station with her ticket already in hand, she walks to the platform, distracted, she decides whether she wants to get Starbucks, quickly changing direction she bumps into someone

"Oh, sorry I wasn't paying attention"

"No that's okay I wasn't paying attention either"

Getting a better look at the stranger she feels she recognizes him from somewhere but can't seem to put her finger on it."

She quickly moves on and heads to the Starbucks

After receiving her coffee she heads towards the platform, waiting for the train to arrive.

Today she'll be returning to Oxford to continue her studies.

Sipping on her coffee, she notices the same man in the distance with two others.

Then it hits her, that's Prince Alexander right? Is it? she isn't sure, why would a prince be at a train station in Birmingham of all places.

Seeing the train arrive she gathers her things and waits for the train to stop so she can get on.

Taking her standard seat she stares out the window. There are people who are trying to figure out where to go others rushing for the train.

"Is this seat taken?"

Startled, she looks at the person who interrupted her daydreaming

It's definitely the prince now that she gets a better look at him.

"Uhm it's not"

Noticing empty seats around them she wonders why he would take a seat next to her.

"Of to Uni I see" He says, ending the awkward silence

Looking down at my uniform

I nod. "Oh yeah, I'm starting my Hilary term."

"Ah. I don't seem to recognize your uniform which uni do you go to?"

"Oxford at Magdalen College"

"oh nice, one of the best colleges out there"

"which college did you go to?"

Well, that was stupid question Eleanor.

Everybody knows which school he went to

"Cambridge, I wasn't accepted at Oxford"

"Really?"

"Yeah, Luckily, Cambridge decided to take pity in me" he responds with a smile.

An awkward silence falls again.

Breaking it yet again, he says "Listen, I don't want this to be awkward between us but the reason why I'm sitting here and talking to you is.... I noticed you the other day and I mean.... this is really awkward." He stammered. "I normally don't do this and I thought you looked lovely and I just wanted to get to know you."

"You've seen me before?"

"I have, this isn't the first time we bumped into each other?"

And then she remembers it on the way to work she bumped into a man she didn't even bother to look up to see who it was, just rushing away so she didn't miss the train

"Right I'm sorry about that as well then"

"You don't have to apologize"

Not wanting him to feel uncomfortable she decides to start the next conversation.

"Sooo where are you off to then?"

"I'm visiting a charity in Reading than of to London"

"Oh nice, but why are you in Birmingham?"

"Oh, I've been staying with a friend actually who's from there"

"Did you enjoy it in Birmingham?"

"I did are you native from there?"

"Yes, born and raised. I don't think I've ever left Birmingham before I went to Uni."

"Seriously? You should explore a bit more, you should definitely visit London just tell me when, and I'll gladly be your tour guide" he jokes

Smiling she replies "I'll keep you to that promise then"

They spend the rest of the train ride talking and becoming more comfortable around each other and when it's time for Eleanor to get off they say their goodbyes.

Walking towards the exit she looks back one more time and sees Alexander looking at her, giving him a wave, she turns and heads towards the direction of the Magdalen College

[one-rosy-sock]

Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)

Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt. 

Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.

It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.

As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.

And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.

You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.

His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.

You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.

Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.

“Mr. Krill?”

He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.

Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.

“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.

He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.

Hastily, he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”

He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.

After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.

You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.

Your patient stares in visible confusion.

“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”

“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.

You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.

“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.

Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.

“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”

This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”

He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.

“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.

You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.

“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”

“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”

You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”

Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”

“We mostly spoke about my mother.”

“Oh?”

“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.

“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.

Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”

“You did?”

“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”

You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”

Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”

“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”

Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”

He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.

“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”

The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.

“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”

Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”

“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”

His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.

The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."

“No."

He flinches.

"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”

Abner nods.

“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”

He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”

“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”

“But I am?”

“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”

Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.

“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”

“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”

“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”

The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.

You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.

“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”

The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”

“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”

“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”

With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”

He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.

“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”

“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”

"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."

His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."

“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”

Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.

“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”

“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”

He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.

You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.

You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.

It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.

[hauntedbythefanficsofmypast]

Daminette Rough Layout AU #1

Warning- This is a Salt AU, it contains Lila salt, Adrien Salt, Alya Salt and Class Salt. Some of the Salt is dramatized, pkease read at your own digression.

Note- Changing things up a bit-they are in high school now-Damian 16 and Marinette 15 and juniors, obviously things are different from canon. Gabriel gave up both miraculous after Adrien dies in one of the akuma fights, he has Nooroo and Duusu bring them to the guardian. Marinette helps heal Duusu so that if he is ever used again the holder will not start to die. Soon after Master Fu takes back Adrien's miraculous and names Marinette the guardian.

He doesnt lose his memories but he does pass away a week later. Marinette also deletes her original website and makes and entire new one under MDC designs after Lila threatens to leave bad reviews.(This happens before she meets Damian, right when they are entering high school.)

They met online after Damian got tired of his brothers making fun of him for talking like an old man. He found Marinette on Twitter, (She has a very popular Twitter blog where she Tweets in English and is considered a meme god.) and after reading her tweets decided that she'd be a good teacher.

After reaching out they agreed on how much she'll be paid and a time that works best for both of them. Every Monday & Wednesday the video chat when Damian has his lunch and study period. For Damian it is 12 to 1 pm, and for Marinette it is 7 to 8 pm. After two months Marinette has successfully made Damian her friend, and he has began opening up to her more. Meanwhile Damian begins to mess with his brothers using memes.

Tim to Jason- I will die if I don't get coffee soon.

Damian passing by the kitchen on his phone- Then perish.

Jason-...Did he just?

Tim- Impossible.

_____________

Dick over the coms while on patrol-I really want candy right now.

Damian drops down next to him and pulls a tidepod of of his belt giving it to Dick before continuing on.

Dick-What the fuck...

Tim having seen from a distance-What did Damian give you candy?

Dick- He gave me a tidepod.

Jason-Your shitting me Goldie.

______________

Jason-What are you eating Damian?

Damian taking a bite of a pop tart- Ravioli...

Jason-Im going fucking crazy.

Alfred-Language Master Jason.

They now text each other durning their free time, Marinette loves receiving pictures of Damian's pets and silly pictures of Damian's friend Jon. Damian loves seeing pictures of her newest designs and Paris at night.

Jon is the only person who knows about Marinette and thats because he crashed one of Damian's classes. He gushes over the fact that Damian is talking to his favorite person on Twitter, then full on fanboys a second later when she follows him back on Twitter. Soon after she becomes friends with Jon too, Lila comes back. After two weeks of fighting her she stops after both Damian and Jon point out that if her classmates were really her friends they wouldnt believe someone they just met over her. Marinette stops doing extra things for the class no more free pastries, banners, clothes or anything. She spends majority of her time on school work, her comissions and talking with Damian and Jon.

Madame Bustier at one point asks her to stay after class. She tells her she is disappointed that Marinette is distancing herself form the class so much. Marinette just tells her that she is done, that if she wants a perfect role model then she should use Lila instead and leaves. The next day she tells Madame Bustier she is stepping down as class president, everyone in the class except for Chloe and Marinette vote for Lila. Marinette has had more free time then she has had in a while and is thriving. She is able to take more and more commissions and even allows Jagged and Clara to give other celebrities access to her website. With a push from Jon she also sets up a Twitter and Instagram account under MDC Designs. With in no time everyone is trying to get an MDC original.

At one point she gets a call from Jon asking her how much it would cost for a MDC original for his mom. Marinette smiles softly telling him to just get his moms measurements for her. When he argues she finally agrees to accept payment but gives him a family discount. Jon agrees with a huff, a month later Jon sends her a video of his mom opening his gift.

Lois-Oh Jon love you know you didnt have to get me anything.

Jon-And let Connor out do me this year? No way.

Connor laughing-Oh shut it Jon!

Jon-cone on open it already mom!

Lois lauging before unwrapping the box- Is this? Jon is this a MDC box?

Connor looking at him with wide eyes.

Jon-open it and see!

Clark-So thats why you asked me for her measurements.

Lois pulls a beautiful knee length navy blue pencil dress. It had a classy V neck and flounce bell sleeves Jon is this and MDC original?

Jon-weeell if you look at the inside of the right sleeve your see her signature marking. Thats not all though mom theres another box!

Lois grabs the other box and unwraps it opening it quickly to find a pair of white lace up Oxford pumps with matching navy laces, MDC hand stitched on the back in navy.

Lois-How did you-how did you get MDC originals?

Jon laughing-I'll never tell!

Marinette saves the video on her phone and tells him he wants a photo of her in it for her website. A week later he send her pictures of his mom in the outfit posing with his dad and the next day he send pictures of her posing with Bruce Wayne on the red carpet. She quickly posts them on Instagram and Twitter tagging Lois, Clark, Bruce and Daily Planet.

'I knew Mrs. Lane would make this one of a kind outfit look beautiful! I was happy to make the dress and shoes as a surprise from her son! Mrs. Lane your son has my number, if you ever want another original talk to him! 💋'

Lois immediately responds to her tweet thank her for the amazing gift, while also asking how her son got in contact with MDC.

Marinette- ' 🤫🤫😘😘💋'

Jon-'You'll never know!!'

Lois, with her bosses approval, writes an article joking about the mystery that is MDC at also an interview where she grills her son on how he knows MDC.

Its a blows up and part of Jon's interview becomes a meme. This part;

Jon-Superman, please come save me from my mom!

Marinette being the meme godess she is decides to quote it on Twitter, but she messes up and posts it on MDC desgins.

MDC-Superman, please come save me from these deadlines!

Half an hour later

MDC-That was meant for my personal Twitter...

Now everyone is also talking about MDC memeing.

After talking with the Kwami Marinette decides to tell Damian and Jon about her time as Ladybug, and how she still goes out and patrols to stop muggers. In return one day Damian and Jon flies him and Damian to paris and they finally meet in person and they tell her their own identities. They leave Gotham at 7 am in Gotham and make it to Paris at 3 pm and wait for her outside of her parents bakery. Marinette flips out and practically tackles the both if them in a hug. She pulls them inside happily introducing her parents to her American friends. After they tell her they decide to spend the rest of the day together. Marinette also takes their measurements telling them its for a surprise. Damian tells her that his brothers are obsessed with MDC and how the wouldnt stop hounding Jon when they found out he had gotten in contact with her.

They go out and Marinette shows them Paris while Jon is slowly pushing them together. He is ecstatic when Marinette wraps one of her fingers around Damien's finger and he respond by grabbing and holding her hand. They are all immensly happy until they are passing by a park and notices her class having a party. At first she doesnt care and just shrugs it off, until the class notices them. Alya accuses Marinette of trying to start drama, she rolls her eyes telling Alya she didnt even know about the party and was just showing her friends around. Damian frowns glaring at the class when he feels Marinette hand start to shake and releases her hand wrapping an arm around her waist in support. Jon is also frowning but simply reminds Marinette that they were going out to eat. Marinette nods and begins telling them about the restaurant they were going to while leaning into Damian's side.

They turn leaving the class behind only for Adrien to hurry after them. Adrien tries to convince Marinette to return and spend time with the class saying he missed his friend. Marinette tells him that they arent friends anymore, that friends dont allow lies to be spread about their friends. She takes the boys and they finally make it to the restaurant.

Damian pays refusing to let Marinette or Jon touch the check. They spend the rest of their time at Marinette's house watching movies until they leave at 9pm wishing Marinette goodnight and making it back to Gotham at 3 pm. When they get back to the manor Bruce confronts Damian asking why he got notified that Damian's card had been used in Paris. Thats how Bruce finds out about Marinette.

Bruce- shes been teaching you memes?

Damian-yes.

Bruce-...well at least your making friends.

Damian-dont tell the others, they'll want to meet her and Id rather not be embarrassed

Bruce-I wont say anything until they catch you then.

Around the end of Marinette's junior year Lila accuses Marinette of theft and she is once again expelled. Only this time Marinette gets the school board involved and she is quickly cleared of charges. once again. However she decides not to return to the school tired of their treatment. Instead with the help of Jagged and her parents permission she enrolls at Gotham Academy and doesnt tell Damian to surprise him. Jon does know that way he could help her.

Within the week Marinette is in Gotham in her new penthouse apartment with her new gaurdian, a maid/nanny that Penny had recommended. Her name is Margaery she is in her 60s. The next day Marinette is dropped of at school by Margaery, Jon is already there early and helps her get his schedule and everything. Then they wait for Damian to arrive hiding until the see him open his locker Jon distracts him while Marinette hides behind the locker door. The school is very surprised whe. Damian smiles brightly at seeing her. Within the day she is known around the school as both Sunshine and Gotham's new Goddess.

Soon enough Damian Marinette and Jon are never seen withiut tge other except in classes. Many teachers see Marinette as a blessing classes have been calmer shes always willing to volunteer and shes even started tutoring some of the students. Even though she entered late in the year she starts to help the student council and things were more organized and running smoother. What everyone is really happy about is how she seems to bring out the teen in Damian and encourage him to act his age. The only reason they havent posted about her and Damian's relationship is because Damian made it clear he didnt want his family to know.

He starts calling her Angel and Red Bird. Marinette starts calling him Dove and Birdie. They slowly start going on dates while also making sure to hang out with Jon so he didnt feel left behind. Its the beginning of summer when Marinette gets invited to a Wayne gala by Bruce himself with a little note.

'Miss Dupain-Cheng, I would like to meet the girl that has stolen my youngest's attention. Please do not inform him I invited you, I think it will be quite the surprise for him. -Bruce Wayne

She tells Damian to wear a seafoam green tie because it will bring out his eyes, in a sly way so that they will be matching. She then makes a seafoam green Asymmetrical A-line off the shoulders dress adding layers of tulle that forms teirs and finishes with horsehair hemlines. The MDC signature is stictched on to the second layer of tulle.

The night of the Gala she is dropped off by Margaery and Jon leaves his parents to meet her. She tells him that Damian didnt know either and Bruce wanted to surprise him. Jon starts laughing causing Marinette to dissolve into giggles. This catches Jon's parents eyes and they walk over. Jon wuickly introduces her as one of his best friends. Lois and Marinette quickly hit it off and enter the gala together with Jon and Clark following behind them. After 5 minutes Damian spots them, and discreetly hurries over to them.

Damian-Angel!

Lois and Clark are surprised at the nickname and that Damian is smiling even more surprised when he hugs her and holds her hand gently. They stare into each others eyes for a moment until Lois coughs catching boths attention. Damian greets them as he lets go of Marinette's hand wrapping an arm around her waist as she does the same. They stand talking with each other until Lois spots someone she wants to interview and hurries off with Clark. The three of them share a look before all saying food at once. Jon walks ahead of them as Marinette and Damian follow talking to themselves.

M-'Your father wanted to meet me so Im afraid I will no longer be a secret.'

D-'Of course he did, I was hoping to keep those embarrassments known as my brothers away.'

This causes Marinette to laugh leaning her head on his shoulder.

M-'I am sure they arent that bad.'

They spend a good half hour talking with Jon and eating before Bruce finds them and introduces himself to Marinette. Five minutes later she notices Damian's brothers starring at them in shock. She starts giggling and points it out to Damian who groans. Soon after the boys rush over to interrogate their brother dragging him away from Marinette Jon and Bruce.

While Damian is dealing with them Jagged and Penny both find Marinette. Eventually the boys force Damian to introduce them to Marinette. She hits it off with all of them promising to visit the mansion. Jon convinces Damian to ask Marinette to be his girlfriend. He asks her to dance with him and asks while they are dancing. That night Marinette Damian and Jon leave together for an impromptu sleepover at Marinette's. Margaery picks them up greeting both parents and assuring them that there kids will be safe, and they will be camping out in the living room.

Marinette surprises the boys with handmade pjs once they get to her house and Margaery surprises them with cookies. The next day she goes to the mansion with Damian and gets to know his brothers more piecing together who is who of the Batfamily. At one point Jason insinuates that Marinette couldnt fight so she challenges his to a spar. Jason being cocky holds back and gets his butt kicked, he asks for a rematch and doesnt hold back this time, still gets his butt kicked.

While Damian and Marinette are saying goodbye she jokes about how long its going to take his siblings to realize shes a hero not a civilian. Damian finds it hilarious. When Marinette gets home she tells Margaery that she was going up to the roof to look at the stars for inspiration. Margaery allows her making her take a blanket, hor chocolate and some cookies with her. That night Nightwing lands on her roof and 'startles' causing her to throw her cup at him hitting him in the gut

Robin chuckling-That bitch empty,

Mari and Robin together-Yeet!

Marinette laughs offering him a cookie as Nightwing gets up

Nightwing-Nice throw.

Marinette laughs harder her eyes twinkling.

Mari-Sorry you startled me I must have lost track of time I should head back home now. Have a safe patrol Birdies!

She says before passing other of them leaving the plate of cookies behind for them. Over the summer Marinette and Damian visit her parents for two weeks before returning to Gotham. The rest of the summer is filled with dates between her and Damian the Gotham Gazette is having a field day with them.

They're referred to as the Goddess and the Prince and every date is talked about the next day. When summer is over Marinette Damian and Jon are back for their senior year. Marinette decides to run for student body president and Jon runs as her vice president, they both tease Damian about being the trophy boyfriend and he responds that he is fine with it as long as hes the trophy boyfriend to Marinette. Marinette and Jon win with an almost unanimous vote. It is half way through their senior year when Damian's brothers realize she knows. Bruce and Babs already know. Jason teasingly jokes about Damian outing them to a civilian and Marinette jist goes

Marinette-Jayby(This is her nickname for him), I have beaten you in spars 9 out of 10 times and you still think Im a civilian.

Tim-What?

Marinette sighs before calling Tiki out and transforming. (She has a different outfit. Period. Her hair is pulled into a high ponytail, held by a red ribbon. It has a completely black mask, her top was sleeveless and was a deep red. She had gloves that stopped at her elbows the same deep red but with black poka-dots. Her pants were completely black with a red belt holding her yoyo. Her outfit was finished with red combat boots with black soles.) Everyone is silent as they taken in her outfit.

Damian-God your so beautiful.

Marinette-Aw Dove

Que a sweet kiss where Jason gags jokingly before Tim flips out about her being Ladybug. Marinette jokingly says that he didnt react that way to her being MDC.

Tim-what?

Dick-This time your oulling my leg.

Marinette-You didnt know? I was always giving you guys family discounts.

Tim-Your MDC...my favorite fashion designer is my future sister-in-law. Thats why your commissions always seemed cheaper than others. Im chalant right now.

This causes Dick to burst out laughing.

Dick-Really becuase Im whelmed!

Bruce smiles slightly remembering when his eldest would use to his 'Unwords' all the time.

That night Marinette patrols with them and Gotham gains a new hero LadyBird. With a little shove from Damian and begging from Tim, Marinette begins to grow MDC even more by partnering with Wayne Enterprises. Marinette and Damian are the power couple of the school, they have majority of their classes together both being in AP and Honors classes. As the school president Marinette is notified that during the last quarter of second semester a French class is doing an exchange program at Gotham Academy.

Her and Jon have to escort them around the school the first week. Marinette argues a bit at first.

Mari-I understand that it is important but Jon and I are still heavily working on Prom, Senior's Last Peprally, Senior Awards, Senior vs Freshman Football, Prom King and Queen vote and The Senior trip.

Jon-Mari is right is there anyway we could pick someone else to show them around. There are a few other people in student council that speak French.

They both convince the Principal to allow the Secretary of the Student Council, Candy St.Cloud, to show them around. Marinette, Jon and Damian avoid them, none of Marinette's old class knows Marinette is there until votes for Prom King and Queen pops up and Marinette's name is on the ballet.

Lila bursts into tears claiming her Dami promised her she'd be on the ballet since he goes to that school. They all try to hunt her down and give her shit for booting Lila off. However majority of Gotham academy has noticed their attitude towards Gotham's Goddess and everyone makes sure Marinette is unreachable.

They pretty much only see glimpses of her until Senior's Last Peprally when she and Damian are announced Prom King and Queen. Their boos are covered up by the school's cheers. Marinette and Damian share a quick kiss which causes more cheers as the teachers roll their eyes calling out Pda. Then both her and Jon announce whats going to be happening at the peprally.

At the end of it all the seniors get together for one last class photo in the front is Jon Marinette and Damian. Damian and Marinette are wearing the sashes and crowns and Marinette is in the middle of them. Bustier's class is upset they cant be a part of the picture because they arent actually seniors at the school. The next night is Senior awards the class doesnt go but the trio does.

Marinette and Damian get best couple.

Damian gets the award for best grades.

Jon gets the award for most likely to secede in life.

That night all three are on the news and trending on Twitter when they go out to celebrate at Bat Burger, videos and pictures are posted off Marinette and Jon dying of laughter as Damian cuts his burger with a knife and fork. At the hotel Lila is crying claiming that Damian is cheating in her with Marinette. The class continuously message Marinette even when they get a response saying that the person is not Marinette amd that they've had the number for two months.

The next day at lunch they confront Marinette, they followed Jon to the room the Student council eat lunch in. Que them berating Marinette infront of everyone including the teachers. Marinette just rolls her eyes not wanting to give them the time of day.

Alya-I cant believe you tricked Lila's boyfriend into dating a bully like you!

This causes Jon to launch to her defense, he steps in front of Marinette glaring at the class.

Jon-Lila's boyfriend?? You mean Damian, so Lila was dating Damian first?

Lila-Yes! And Marinette purposely seduced him!

Jon-Really tell me when did you firat meet Damian?

Lila-oh he was so sweet! It was when we were 6 and we met at a gala here in Gotham! A older women was being incredibly mean to me and he stood up for me telling me that he'd have his dad kick her out. We were always meeting up over the summer and started dating at the beginning of senior year!

Jon-Oh so you know Arabic?

Lila-What?

Jon smirking-Well Damian didnt learn English until he was 8, his first language is English. Also you couldn't possibly have met Damian here when he was 6 because Damian didn't come to Gotham until he was 10. When his dad was informed that he had a son. On top of that Damian spends every summer with his family and closest friends. Actually he usually spends a few weeks on my family's farm, this summer he didnt because he went to Paris with Marinette. Also at the beginning of senior year? St. Cloud, when did Damian ask Marinette out.

St. Cloud- Beginning of the summer at Mr. Wayne's first charity gala of the summer, he asked her while they were dancing. It was really cute and Marinette looked amazing in her MDC dress!

Mari-Thank you St. Cloud, I could give you her number if you'd like a dress

Lila runs away embarrassed the class starring at Jon and Marinette in shock.

Alya-who-who do you think you are?!

Mari-Alya do you really not recognize your idols son?

Marinette is disappointed as she introduces them to Jon Kent, after that the teacher finally forces the French class out, while also telling them how kuch trouble they'll be in.

The class starts trying to get on Marinette's good side for the rest of the year but she ignores them. Prom comes and goes and when its finally time for graduation Damian is valedictorian. He gives a fairly inspirational speech and at the end he smirks finishing it with.

Dami-And lastly I would like to thank my eldest brother, without him Id never be able to give this sappy inspirational speech, he is really good at them.

When they throw their caps in the air Damian finds Marinette and dips her pulling her into a deep kiss.

That night while they are all celebrating at the Wayne Mansion Marinette finally lets go of Paris, she decides that her place is in Gotham with Damian.

Lets do a time skip!

Marinette is the top name in Fashion, Damian is Co-Ceo of Wayne enterprises with Tim. They are both married and living in Marinette's penthouse together with Margaery, I am to emotionally invested to kill off her or Alfred even if it is do to age. They visit the mansion almost every day, and family dinners are common.

Jon started going out with St. Cloud and are engaged, he has also taken up the mantle of Superman.

Damian has taken up the mantle of Batman with his Robin, Johnn'i Thomas Grayson-Wayne, Richard and Koriand'r's second child that did not inherit his mothers powers, and his partner Ladybird. That is until Marinette discovers she is pregnant. She surprises the family while they are getting their family portrait redone, with only Kori and the photographer knowing.

All the girls are in chairs with the boys behind them. Seating goes.

Babs, Kate, Selina, Marinette, Kori, Stephanie, and Cass. For a few of the pictures Marinette holds up a sign saying, "Another Wayne is on the way!" Then they hide the sign so they have a regular family portrait.

A few days later when the entire family is gathered to see the photos they are surprised when Bruce stars at them in shock. Alfred and Margaery merly smile offering congratulations, everyone is confused until Bruce turns the picture around.

Damian is looking at the pictures in shock until he jumps up and picks up Marinette spinning her around. Soon everyone is screaming and cheering offering congratulations. While Damian and Marinette hold each other close crying softly.

Mari-Your gonna be a Daddy Dove.

Damian-I love you so much Marinette. So much.

[annabethy]

Internet crush au i love the thought that both percy and annabeth try to subtly flirt with each other whist being an ocean apart on youtube (and all of they’re followers know they’re simps) idk just a thought for if you’re still wanting prompts ❤️❤️

oceans apart: percabeth internet crush au

“Not again.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes, pointedly sipping her cup of coffee and ignoring Piper’s whine for attention.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” Annabeth lies.

“Oh, so you’re not sparking up an online romance with the infamous Percy Jackson?”

Annabeth hums, taking another slow sip of her drink. “I am merely responding to his message.”

“Over twitter. In front of millions of people.”

Annabeth snorts, staring at the phone in hand. It was true, really. Somehow, Annabeth had managed to gain quite a big following on youtube during her years spent studying at Oxford, and at some point, a guy from UCLA took an interest in her. It had been pretty hilarious, especially to the millions of people watching her every move, and she just hadn’t been able to put a stop to the online flirting, which is precisely why she was flirting with a man that was oceans apart from her.

“You’re never even met this man,” Piper points out.

“That’s what makes it fun,” Annabeth says. “An online romance. Who doesn’t love it?”

“I’m not saying no one loves it because this is the best thing to happen in all of the twenty-first century, but he’s in California, and you’re not.”

“It’s all fun and games,” Annabeth says.

“Yeah, right.”

Annabeth blinks. “Do you have something you’d like to tell me?”

“You two are practically in love with each other.”

Annabeth flushes. “Are not.”

“What are you typing then?”

Annabeth looks down at the thread being sent back and forth between the two popular youtubers. By this point, their entire conversation was being filled with hundreds of thousands of people having mental breakdowns, thinking the two were actually going to get together.

Not that she would mind that. No, she hadn’t seen him in person, but they’re practically best friends, and he’s a huge sweetheart.

“Nothing.”

“Lies,” Piper says, snatching the phone. “Percy tweeted ‘honey, I think you and I should get married.’”

“He’s kidding.”

“You responded, ‘come to the UK and I’ll consider it.’”

“It’s all just some good-natured fun.”

“He responded, ‘give me a kiss?’ and you said, ‘show up alive, and then we’ll see.’”

Annabeth snickers, snatching her phone back. “You’re reading too far into this.”

“No, I’m not. You two are just in love with each other.”

“You are incorrect, actually.”

Piper raises an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? What about last week when he uploaded the video that was literally spent listing off the reasons you should marry him?”

“Publicity stunt. It got millions of views.”

“You’re in love with him.”

Annabeth pinches her fingers. “Only a little bit, but no one has to know.”

“Oh, honey, everyone knows.”

A part of her floods with warmth. Ever since he’d first left a comment on one of her videos, their friendship had blossomed. It was just what they did — uploading videos just to tease one another and accept marriage proposals. He’s probably proposed five times by this point, and Annabeth has jokingly accepted five times.

They were the unofficially-official couple as people like to put it, and it was a lovely arrangement in her opinion.

Annabeth’s phone vibrates in her hand, and when she looks down, she sees Percy telling her, bought a plane ticket. on my way babe.

“Oh god,” Piper groans, looking over Annabeth’s shoulder as another smile breaks out across Annabeth’s face. “You two disgust me.”

“That’s funny, considering you admitted that you were our biggest shipper.”

Piper gasps. “Who told you?”

“Jason told Percy who told me.”

“Betrayal.”

“Precisely.” Annabeth hums. “We should be going soon. I have to get another video up in two days and you promised you’d help me.”

“What is it this time? Writing the perfect love letter to Percy?”

“Making a shrine to Percy,” Annabeth corrects.

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was,” Annabeth says. “It was his idea.”

“Of course it was,” Piper mutters, but she’s already scooting her chair away from the table of the café and standing up. “Let’s get going then, you booger.”

The walk back to their shared apartment was filled with Piper’s rants about a certain two careless youtubers, and the video Annabeth dragged Piper to film was no different. All things considered though, it went quite well. It might as well be a shitpost, but it was interesting enough and would have to suffice.

The video did take a lot longer to film than expected, so by the time Annabeth was finally ready to go on with the day, it was almost midnight.

“This sucks,” Annabeth says, peeking out the window at the dark sky.

“It’s no big deal.” Piper stretches and yawns, and Annabeth thinks she may fall asleep right there. “London never sleeps so we can still go out.”

“You’re practically drooling already.”

“We have things to do. People to see.”

Annabeth scrunches her brows. “Who?”

“People,” Piper says ominously. As she sits up, she looks Annabeth up and down before shrugging, which doesn’t do much to help her confidence. “You look good enough. Let’s go.”

Piper barely gives Annabeth time to process what was happening before she was being dragged out the door. Realistically, Piper did give her like five minutes to grab a few things, but it felt like no time at all because Piper refused to say anything besides they were meeting up with some friends at a cozy diner in the middle of the city.

The walk there was a bit chilly, so as Annabeth tightens her long black peacoat around her body, she glances at Piper out of the corner of her eye.

“So,” Annabeth says, sniffling and rubbing her nose to soothe the sharp bite of wind. “Would you mind telling me why we’re heading to the city? We never go out late. That’s, like, our motto.”

“You looked cute today, and it would be a shame to waste that by just staying in.” Piper grabs Annabeth’s hand and laces their fingers together to swing their arms back and forth. “I must say I’m loving the white sweater and black jeans. My fashion is rubbing off on you.”

“What fashion?”

“I hate you.”

By the time they finally reach the diner, Annabeth’s fingers and toes are numb, but the view was definitely worth it. Annabeth’s surprised she hadn’t ever seen this place before after having lived here for almost four years, but it’s no surprise Piper knew of it. There were fairy lights strewn up around the outer portion of the restaurant, and there was gentle music flowing through the air. Even though it was cold, the image of this place was a drastic difference, and it melted the aching in her bones.

Piper leads Annabeth to a table outside, and Annabeth is hardly surprised to see Jason waiting for them. He stands up to give each of the girls a quick hug, before they all settle into their respective seats.

“You brought me here to be a third wheel? Is that what this is?” Annabeth says playfully as she sits.

“You and I both know that I’m the real third wheel here,” Jason says kindly. “But maybe it’s Piper, because she’s the only one here who doesn’t make videos.”

“I don’t need to because I was lucky enough to have my best friend introduce me to another youtuber,” Piper says.

“You should be thanking me for your relationship,” Annabeth tells the two of them. “Without me, you would’ve never found the love of your life.”

Jason’s eyes gleam. “And how about you? Have you found the love of your life?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“I saw the messages between you and Percy earlier,” Jason says. “It was a beautiful proposal, really.”

“I try.”

“When you meet him, you should consider eloping.”

“That’s if I meet him,” Annabeth corrects.

“Of course. My apologies.” Jason grins, and Annabeth is slightly unnerved. “You would make a cute couple.”

“How so?”

“You two are the biggest simps for each other,” Jason says.

“Told you so,” Piper chimes in.

“I’m going to leave if you two brought me here just to insult me.” Annabeth looks beside herself and her eyes focus on the empty chair. “Are we waiting for someone else?”

“I invited a friend, but I’m not sure where he is,” Jason says. “They must be running late.”

“Who is it?”

“Oh, I’m not sure if you’d know them,” he dismisses.

Piper and Jason begin talking again, but Annabeth tunes them out. If she was going to be forced to sit with stranger while Piper and Jason snogged in front of them, then she would be severely unhappy.

Annabeth doesn’t know what to expect, but she does know that she should be worried when Piper and Jason share a conspicuous glance with each other before heading off to the bar, under the excuse of getting them some drinks.

Annabeth groans, lacing her hands together on the table in front of her. She was definitely starting to regret this decision of joining Piper on her midnight adventure, not that it was much of a decision at all. She was dragged alongside her, and if she could go back in time, she would probably end up pushing Piper off a bridge to stop this utter boredom from taking over.

All things considered though, it’s not too terrible. She might be able to drink the night away and forget all this happened, and—

“Babe!”

Annabeth’s head snaps up because of the voice. It was a voice she’d recognize anywhere.

She whirls around in her chair, and right there, standing in all his glory, was Percy Jackson.

Percy holds his arms out as he approaches her, and Annabeth laughs as she stumbles up to give him a crushing hug. They stay like that for a few seconds, and it feels like it should be awkward because they’d never actually met before, but it just feels like a piece of a puzzle if fitting into place.

“What are you doing here?” Annabeth asks, grinning as she pulls away and tilts her chin to look up at him. From here, he’s a lot taller than she expected, and he looks so much better in person than on camera, which says a lot.

“I’m here for our wedding!” Percy smiles cheekily, pulling her in for another quick hug before stepping back and just looking at her. She feels warm and fuzzy under his gaze. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten.”

“Of course I haven’t,” she says, playing along. “But why are you really here?”

“I wanted to see my beautiful girlfriend.”

Annabeth bites her bottom lip, holding back a laugh. “I don’t recall agreeing to this.”

“You agreed to marry me, so I think that means we’re dating.”

“Yeah, but we both know we were messing around.”

Percy clicks his teeth, his eyes sparkling. “I don’t know. You did respond when I called you babe, so…”

“I guess I did.” Annabeth looks over at where Piper and Jason had disappeared off to. They were taking their sweet time, and suddenly Annabeth realized that it was for a reason, and that they knew all along. She doesn’t know whether to thank them or punch them. “It looks like they’re not coming back anytime soon.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That might be because I asked them to let me have you all to myself for a while.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did.” Percy stares at her for a while, and she stares back. It feels like she’s known him for all of her life, and she never wants this moment to end. So long talking over the phone and sending messages through videos, and they were finally alone, just the two of them, and it was so much better than she could’ve imagined.

“I’m not sure what to do now,” Annabeth admits as Percy takes a step closer, like he’s done it a million times. Soon, his face is inches away from hers.

“I have an idea,” Percy tells her quietly, his green eyes vibrant in the dim lighting of the outdoor patio.

“And what’s that?”

“Go on a date with me.”

Annabeth tilts her head, lips lifting in a coy smile. “I thought we were already engaged?”

“I’m still working towards that kiss,” he says, and his smile is blinding.

A beat skips, and she can’t help herself, and then—

“Who says you have to wait?”

Annabeth doesn’t know what prompts her to step forwards, but she does anyways, and her stomach flutters when he does the same. There was just something about this situation that seems so familiar, and she trusts him, probably more than she should. But this was Percy, and she knew him. He wouldn’t hurt her.

Percy’s hands go to cup her face, his fingers gently tracing over her skin, cold in the London winter, and there is a blazing heat in her body. For a second, they look into each other’s eyes, and then both of their eyes are fluttering shut as Percy brings her face to his and kisses her sweetly.

It’s slow and gentle, and somehow, she can see a future with them. This has been building up since she first saw his kind words on her video, and it was strengthened through their twitter declarations of love and youtube proposals. She shouldn’t feel like this, but she does, and that’s okay.

He pulls away but his hands stay in place. His smile is so breathtaking, and it fits so well with the delicate snowflakes that started falling and the pretty glow of the fairy lights.

“What do you say?” Percy asks. “I’ll take you on the date of your life.”

“And then you’ll marry me?”

“What’s a date if it doesn’t end in marriage?”

Annabeth’s lips twitch up, and she brushes a strand of her blowing hair behind her ear. She really liked him, and she just knew that it would be alright. He was in Los Angeles and she was in London, and they were oceans apart, but it would be okay.

“I’m holding you to that,” she says, and so he takes her hand, and leads her on the date of a lifetime.

[lilliannelson]

Maybe, Definitely

Summary: Reader is a long time guest at the Holmes’ Estate. They have been associated with the family for years. One conversation leads to a whole new outlook on the life they thought they knew.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Trigger Warning: Just fluff

A/N: Most definitely going to continue with a jump ahead in time. Let me know your thoughts!!

You had been staying at the Holmes’ Estate for a few weeks; a tradition that began 5 years before. You had entered society as a young lady and became acquainted with the youngest Holmes, Enola. To say you kept this tradition going for nothing more than the company of Enola and her elder brothers, was simply not at all truthful. While Mycroft made your blood boil more than you can count, and Enola being one of your best companions, your eyes always seemed to flitter towards Sherlock. He had many rungs to his social ladder but currently his consulting agency was thriving in the ever-crazy London Town. As intelligent as he is, he had rare moments of conversation with anyone other than his siblings. It seemed that he couldn’t be bothered by anyone else, which was a positive to the fact his business was blooming. He didn’t have to stay here all the time.

Right now, you’re walking about the large study of which held all of the best novels you could get your hands on in this day and age. You glance up and spot him. He’s tall, very tall. And he has the most gorgeous head of dark curls you have ever seen. You have been observing him from a far for a while. You couldn’t help but wonder what he would say next or if he would even give you the time of day.

‘There he is,’ you think, stopping yourself with the book you’re currently reading in hand looking out the large bay window to see him walking up the drive.

You blink and knock yourself out of the trance you were in. He may be opinionated and gorgeous, but you were better than that to drop yourself to his level. No man was ever worth it.

You continue to walk out the large French-style doors to the wooden swing that hung from your favorite tree in the side yard. The gardeners had done so well this year and the flowers that lined the path that led to your spot was exceptionally darling this time of year. Autumn was your favorite season, after all.

You sit on the swing and get lost in the book. Hours seem to have rolled by as the sun was on the brink of setting. You stretch and yawn as you suddenly realize your surroundings. You feel a set of eyes on your back. An intuition you’d grown to enjoy. You slowly swivel around to see him looking at you. You give him a shy smile and can see him capture his bottom lip with his teeth; a sort of kryptonite to you. As you stand, wiping off the front of you from some invisible outdoor dander, you walk towards him. He stands with his hands in his pockets. You suddenly feel the urge to run, but it subsides as you draw in closer to him.

“Hello,” his deep voice fills your ears.

“Hi,” you greet him back.

“I seem to always find you outside these days. What book are you reading?” You show him the book, a book of poems that he most likely has not read. “Never read that one.” ‘Ha, I knew it,’ you think.

“It’s good to switch up the type of writing sometimes.”

“Yes, it is.” His blue eyes keep your hazel ones, “Listen, I’m having dinner tonight, and I’d love it if you joined me.”

“What time?” Who were you and why were you accepting? Lowering yourself to his level was, again, something you didn’t want to do. But, it made sense to go to dinner with him, since you hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Your stomach rumbled as if on command.

“Right now, actually.” He grins, “Your stomach just gave you away.”

You match his grin, “It has. Shall I change?”

He shakes his head, “I don’t believe so. It’s just you and I.”

You feel a shade of pink flush your cheeks at the realization. But of course you knew it was just the two of you. His siblings and everyone else had already eaten. “Lead the way, then.”

——————————————————————————

You sit across from him at the large wooden dining room table. An extravagant floral arrangement was placed on the table prior to you two sitting down. He moves it over, allowing both of you to be able to meet eyes once more. He’d began to speak about a book he had read last week, and then the conversation moved to you.

“What would you like to know about me?” You take a dainty bite of the meal.

He sips his wine, “Everything.” You spot the grin he’s making behind his glass. This causes you to raise your eyebrow at him, looking down to your plate but also a small grin forms on your lips.

“I’m surprised you haven’t already come to one of your conclusions about me yet.” A little jab at him, but he pressed on.

“Where do you see yourself? The next 5 years?”

“That’s rather deep.”

“If you’d rather not answer, that’s quite alright. I can ask you something else.”

You grab the glass of wine, taking a big gulp before beginning, “Five years? Why not the next year?”

“Because it’s the most generic question people ask to get to know someone. And because I’m sure you have a list of ideas. I would love to hear your thoughts instead of coming to a conclusion.”

“Okay, well... I’ve been trying to read everything I can. I want to educate myself as much as possible. I want to write a book. I want to go to university and get a degree. I want to be a teacher. I-“ you stop when you meet his eyes. He’s so enamored by you in this moment.

“What kind of teacher?”

“English. I want to see a child’s eyes light up when they learn to read and understand the meanings of words and sentences. I used to play Headmistress when I was a child. I didn’t have any friends, but I made them up in my head. Probably why I am such an odd one nowadays.”

“You’re not odd. You’re intelligent. And any child would be lucky to have you as their teacher. Where are you planning on getting a degree?”

“Oxford. I know that it will be difficult to get into any program there, but I’m very certain I can do it. I am fully capable.”

“Yes, yes you are.” A silence falls over your conversation as you recollect all you said, and his eyes stay on you.

“Thank you,” you say in a small voice.

His eyebrows raise quizzically, “Whatever for?”

“For not making my want to teach seem like a death sentence.”

“Whoever has given you that idea?”

You look down to the table, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, “Oh, my uncle. And Mycroft.”

“Of course they have. I should’ve known.”

You shrug, “It’s the times we are living. I expect it most of the time. I can tune it out, it’s just tough sometimes.”

“If it helps any, Mycroft has always been that arrogant and self absorbed to the point he will do anything to raise his status.”

“It doesn’t, but thank you for trying.” You feel tears threatening to form in your eyes. After a beat, you blink them away, “How’s business in London?”

Sherlock frowns slightly, “It’s going. I’ve picked up quite a few new cases. Nothing too important yet, though.”

“I’m sure something will come up.”

“I hope so. I would hate to have to hang up the practice before its prime.”

“But it brings you joy. I have never seen someone so intricately indulge into their craft like you. I’m sure you’re the first one anyone at Scotland Yard thinks of when cases come in.” You look down bashfully when you see him gaping at you.

“I didn’t know you paid that much attention to me.” His grin exposes a dimple. He looks shy.

“You’re Sherlock Holmes. How is that possible?”

“When it comes to my personal life, I tend to refuse to sink into any inklings I may have. I’m much better at helping others, if that makes sense.”

You nod, “It does.”

“You pay this kind of attention to everyone else?”

“Only the ones that are intriguing to me.”

“And what about me is intriguing?” His voice is low.

“Your knowledge, your composure, your personality.” You take another gulp of your wine, calming down your growing pulse, “I like observing you in your natural habitat.”

“Why?”

“Because you act like you don’t have feelings, but it shows in the way you present yourself. The slight grin you get on your face when someone outsmarts you regarding something you were sure no one else could. The other day when Mycroft was sure to prove me wrong, and I told him off, you had this look on your face...” You quickly change your tone, “I will never not laugh at his reaction.”

Sherlock has leaned forward, as if having to prove he was paying attention to you, but his eyes are semi-glazed over as if lost in thought.

“Sherlock?”

“Hmm?” That knocks him out of his daze.

“Did I say too much?”

“No, no. I don’t believe you said too much at all.”

“Shall I continue?”

“Please.”

“I do believe your attachment to Enola is very sweet. She is just like you. She idolizes you, more than she lets on to your face.”

“She does?”

Nodding, you continue, “She and I are friends, after all. She and Mycroft make the air very tense when they are around each other, but when she’s in any room with you, it’s very calm. You’d think it would be the opposite, because you both are attentive, but that’s not the case.”

“You are very good at paying attention.”

“It’s my gift. I tune into energy and gut-instinct. I’ve learned to read people over the years.”

“Sounds very similar to my line of work, can I observe you sometime?”

“Yeah, any time.” You feel timid. But he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

He clears his throat, “Let me escort you back to your rooms.”

————————————————————————————————————————————

He walks you through the house, seemingly knowing the route you use even though the wing you’re in is opposite his. You watch him through your peripheral and catch him with his gaze on you more than once. Occasionally as you walk side by side, your hand grazes his but you notice he doesn’t tense up or show any signs of displeasure.

You arrive at your doorway, going inside to the sitting area. You weren’t used to having anyone other than Enola visiting you, so you tidy as you walk around. You hear a chuckle come from Sherlock, making you turn towards him.

You grin to yourself. “Please, have a seat if you’d like,” you gesture towards the chair to his right. He sits. You pace before sitting opposite him. You feel something looming in the air, like there are some unspoken truths, but Sherlock breaks your thoughts.

“Would it be too untoward if I tell you that you are intriguing, too?”

“I am?”

Sherlock nods, “You present yourself unlike any other young woman I have encountered. It’s nice to see you speak up and be unfiltered from time to time.”

“You pay attention to me?”

“Of course.”

“But how come it never felt like that?”

“I don’t follow...” his voice trails off as your eyes link.

You stand up, “It felt, in some ways, that my presence wasn’t allowed. No, not allowed, just you seemed above it all.” You scoff, “Somehow, I’ve always felt invaluable to you. And I always refused to let it bother me because I am a woman and I am better than that. To let a man’s opinion of myself get to me would be against everything I’ve learned in the past. But again, it bothers me. I guess I’m not as good as I thought.” You walk to your drink cart and pour yourself a glass of wine, gulping it down, “So to hear that you notice do notice me, well, that’s a lot.”

Sherlock stands and walks towards you, “I was unaware. You never made any gesture to feeling this way.”

“How would I when your actions...” you take a breath. “There’s been a miscommunication.”

“Yes, there has.” Sherlock pours himself a glass of wine, sipping it delicately.

You lock eyes again, “So what do we do now?”

“I’ve never been one to speak of...feelings. But I care for you, deeply. I believe we are going to need to speak up. And perhaps there won’t be any more miscommunications.”

You catch yourself grinning like an idiot, “I care about you, too.” You reach a hand up and caress the side of his face; he leans into your touch.

[theheartsmistakes]

Any Other Name: Chapter 2

“Cordelia!” Her mother called up the stairs in a fake, chipper voice that held undercurrents of irritation Cordelia knew had nothing to do with her and everything to do with their company. “Our guests are here. Why don’t you come down and help me set the table for dinner?”

If she took to yelling up the stairs at her rather than walking the staircase or sending her father to come and retrieve her, she must be considerably uncomfortable.

“I’m coming!” said Cordelia so no one could come after her and find her kneeling on the floor over a removed floorboard with a secret letter in her hands.

Quickly, she folded the paper, stuck it back under the floorboard, and pushed the wood plank back into its place before pushing herself to her feet and brushed the dust off of her hands. She grabbed her black cardigan from off the bed and threw it on as she twisted the knob and opened the door and nearly walked right into Augustus Pounceby.

A small shriek escaped her as she fell back against the door frame, cursing in Persian, and clutched her chest.

Augustus smirked. The last time she’d seen him he had an impossibly round face, buck teeth, and a lisp that made it difficult to understand him. They’d been twelve years old at the time, but she didn’t think people could change so much in five years. He’d lost the roundness of his youth, grew several inches, and his teeth were a normal size. His dirty blond hair was cut short at the sides, long on the top, and perfectly coifed with products. He wore a black button-up t-shirt with the buttons done up to his neck, over dark denim jeans, and a pair of black and white trainers.

His smirk turned lascivious as his eyes roved over the length of her body, lingering on the bits her dress left exposed. She fought against the urge to close her cardigan around her.

“Pounceby,” said Cordelia by way of greeting. “Anyone ever tell you it’s rude and a bit creepy to lurk outside of someone’s bedroom door?”

“I was sent to fetch you,” he said, glancing over her shoulder into Lucie’s bedroom. “Your mother said that you’d give me a tour. I’ve always wanted to see the inside of the infamous London Institute.”

Cordelia unceremoniously closed the bedroom door behind her with a bit more force than necessary. Unfortunately, the movement made her step closer to Augustus. “No one’s ever invited you in before?”

“It wasn’t a matter of being invited,” said Augustus, not moving an inch to provide some space between them. “I wouldn’t have stepped one foot inside of this place with those demon-blooded Herondale’s living here. You can still smell their taint all over this place.”

Cordelia shoved her shoulder into his chest as she moved around him, fighting against the urge to also knee him in the solar plexus while simultaneously breaking his nose with her elbow. Her father probably wouldn’t appreciate her getting Pounceby’s blood all over the floor and he’d most likely make her clean it up, so she decided against bloodshed for tonight and keep things— cordial.

“Allow me to give you a tour then,” said Cordelia pointing to the walls as she walked towards the stairs. "This is the hallway and these are the--" She looked over her shoulder and realized Augustus wasn’t following her.

“What’s down this way?” He asked, nodding towards the other end of the hall.

She hadn’t bothered to wander farther than Lucie’s old bedroom. It felt wrong like she needed an invitation to go farther. There were two more doors at the end. One used to be a study and the other had been James’s bedroom.

She’d only ever been in there once the last time her family came to London for a visit. Lucie had gone on a trip to Paris with her Aunt Cecily, but James stayed home due to some punishment after an incident that happened at the Academy. James never told her and she never asked. Not that she could have, from a young age she was so enamored by James that she often found it difficult to form coherent sentences when she was around him. He was the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen. With his raven black hair, always unruly and curling at all ends like it’d been worked and shaped by the wind and his eyes, like golden flecks of sunlight framed by thick dark lashes. She remembered how they would crinkle at the edges when he smiled, and he always smiled at her.

They spent that entire week reading, wandering around the Institute, pretending to battle each other with the baguettes Tessa brought home for dinner. It'd started as the worst summer of her existence and ended as one she would never forget.

Warmth spread up her neck and into her cheeks at the memory of it. “There’s nothing down there. Come on, they’ll be wanting to eat soon.”

“The men are talking in the old, stuffy drawing room,” said Augustus as he turned on his heel and walked leisurely down the hall. “Come on, Carstairs. It’s your house now, you can do whatever you want in it.”

“I want to go downstairs and help my mum set the table,” said Cordelia, crossing her arms. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait just a moment,” drawled Pounceby. “Isn’t this goat eye's old bedroom?”

Cordelia glared. "Who?"

"James."

Cordelia bristled at the rude name he'd given James. “I don’t know. Why does it matter?”

“My interest is peaked is all.”

“Some infatuation of yours with James, Pounceby?” smirked Cordelia. “I’m sure he’ll be flattered, but somehow I doubt you’re his type.”

Augustus put his hand on the doorknob and tried to turn it but it wouldn’t move. “It’s locked.”

Relief swept through Cordelia. “That’s settled then. Let’s go to dinner.”

“Why is it locked?” Augustus tried the door again. “What’s in there?”

“How am I supposed to know. I did just tell you I haven't been there." Cordelia dragged her feet as she came beside him to try the door herself. It was, in fact, locked. “I’ll tell my father about it at dinner and he can find the key, or something.”

Augustus narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you hiding something in here?”

Cordelia’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“It was no secret you were a Herondale and downworlder sympathizer,” he said with a sneer that once again made Cordelia want to shove his face into the wall. “Is there a reason you don’t want me going in here?”

Cordelia’s empty hands clenched around the fabric of her cardigan to keep from swinging out against her will. “If you want to look stupid for claiming that my father has anything to hide from the Clave by dragging them away from their drinks to come up here and open a door that’s obviously been locked from the inside, only to find that it is as empty as all the rest?” She stepped aside so there was room for him to go around her. “Please, by all means, be my guest. I was really hoping for quality entertainment tonight and to see the look of disappointment on your father’s face will be well worth the wait.”

Augustus held her gaze for just a moment longer before he released his grip on the door and walked past her, whispering the word ‘bitch’ in a volume that was just loud enough for her to hear.

She’d been called worse.

When he was far enough down the hallway, she gave the doorknob another attempt, but just as before it wouldn’t budge.

Curious, she thought and tucked the anomaly away for a later time.

~ ~ ~

“Ah, there she is!” Her father said as Cordelia descended the stairs. Now with the lights all burning in their sconces from the wall, casting shadows from the chandeliers, they gave the Institute back some semblance of the warmth that Cordelia remembered when she would visit. It still felt odd without any Herondale presence; she half expected Will to come bursting through the door in a rage about the city traffic and Tessa to follow behind him with her genuine smile.

But the front door remained closed, much to Cordelia’s dismay, as she slowly sank from the last step.

“Cordelia, you remember Inquisitor Bridgestock?” said her father with a tight smile.

Cordelia looked to the tall man standing before her. He always reminded her of a toad with his round face, bulbous eyes, and thin mouth. He even had a rather large wart at the start of his right eyebrow.

“Well, Elias, what a beauty your daughter has become,” said the Inquisitor, folding his hands in front of himself, not even bothering to shake hers, because why would he? Perhaps he thought her dainty little hands couldn’t withstand his masculine dynamism.

She fought hard not to roll her eyes at her thoughts and plastered a smile across her face. “Oh yes, I remember him well.”

“And our new Consul, Marcus Pounceby?”

Her eyes shifted to the man standing beside the Inquisitor. He did offer her his hand, and when she placed it into his smooth palm, she could not feel a single callous on his fingers or palm. It made her wonder when the last time he trained, or patrolled, or held a weapon for that matter. He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles. A European custom and she was in Europe, but it still made her feel uneasy, small. At least, he wasn’t trying to kiss both of her cheeks like the French, which she didn’t mind, it just all depended on the person. Lucie and James’s cousin Anna was privy to that custom and with her, Cordelia didn’t mind it in the least.

“My son wouldn’t stop raving about you when he learned about your arrival,” said the Consul. “He spoke of your bravery, your skill, we are very lucky to have you back in England. He graduated from the Academy with top marks and has shown himself to lead a powerful squadron of Shadowhunters. You should speak to him about going out on raids together. He can show you around town.”

Her eyes flashed to Augustus, standing beside his father, looking rather bumptious. When she didn’t say anything for a good long time, her father nudged her with his elbow. “That would be delightful.”

She’d only used the word delightful possibly twice in her life. It tasted like poison coming out of her mouth, but it did its job. They both looked pleased with her which made it all the more difficult not to vomit on their shiny oxfords.

Only her father, who was attuned to her sarcasm and indifference after being the victim of it for sixteen years, noted the tone of her voice.

“Where is your son?” inquired the Consul.

“He stayed in Tehran to oversee the Institute until the new family moves in,” said her father. “He’ll be joining us just as soon as their settled.”

“Excellent,” said the Inquisitor. “Another student of the academy that succeeded with top marks. We could use him on the streets while this issue with the Downworlders is in effect and in meetings regarding demon and downworlder business. He had some dealing of his own with the Herondale boy, did he not?”

Cordelia looked to her father for an answer. She knew Alastair and James went to the academy at the same time and didn’t necessarily get along. Then some incident happened that resulted in James’ expulsion, but she didn’t know what that had to do with Alastair. He never told her even though she asked him nearly a hundred times.

Elias shifted a step so he stood closer to Cordelia. “Alastair only spoke of how troubled James was.” His eyes flashed to Cordelia. A warning and a plead not to say a word.

“Yes, well, with the filth that runs in that family’s blood it is no wonder he was capable of causing such a disturbance. He shouldn’t have been accepted into the academy in the first place,” said Inquisitor Bridgestock.

Cordelia bit the inside of her lip until she tasted blood.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Elias?” asked Bridgestock.

Elias breathed through his nose and straightened his shoulders. “Of course. Now that we’ve all been reacquainted, why don’t we move this discussion into the dining room. Sona has been slaving away in the kitchen for the better part of our move-in day to make this dinner special. Cordelia, please go help your mother.”

Cordelia gave them a half-hearted curtsy and dipped out of the entryway towards the hall that led to the kitchen. Upon noticing her angelic energy, the lights in the sconces along the walls flickered on with several distinct clinks and filled the space with a subtle glow. Cordelia put her hand on the swinging door that led into the kitchen where her mother, with a large ladle in hand, poured some kind of broth over the sliced pork chops lined neatly on a silver platter.

“I can’t do it,” said Cordelia as soon as the door swung shut again. “They are absolutely incorrigible. They called the Herondale’s filthy.”

Sona set the bowl of broth down on the crowded counter and started to pull the leaves off from a sprig of thyme. “You already knew they felt this way, Cordelia. This should not come as a surprise.”

“Yes, but to hear them say it out loud makes my skin crawl.” She picked up the serving fork and stabbed it into a pork chop. “I can’t even say anything to defend them. I just have to nod my head at all of their slurs. I might as well be stabbing my friends in the back.”

Sona wiped her hands on the cloth hanging over her shoulder as she turned to Cordelia. “Your friends know you, they know your truth, and they would want for you to protect yourself. If the situation was reversed and it was our family that had been banished, what would you want from James and Lucie?” After a moment, when Cordelia didn’t answer, Sona continued, “I knew Tessa well. She was a good friend. I know that if the situation was reversed, I would want Tessa to protect her family.”

“She was a good friend?” Cordelia emphasized the second word without looking at her mother. “Maybe I would want James and Lucie to protect themselves and not be banished like me, but I know I wouldn’t want them to stop seeing me as their friend.”

Sona opened her mouth and sighed. “Cordelia—“

“Let’s just feed the monsters so they can leave.” Cordelia picked up the platter of steaming pork chops and started towards the swinging door, leaving her mother to look as dejected as Cordelia felt.

Once in the dining room, still decorated in Tessa’s elegant taste with gold and white herons flying across the wallpaper with holly in their beaks, Cordelia set the platter of pork onto the center of the mighty oak table. The chandelier hung low with sphere-shaped crystals that cast rainbows across the walls when the light from the large arched window at the west side of the room hit them. The table was set for only six people tonight with Elias at the head closest to the window.

Cordelia had no choice but to sit beside Augustus, as all the other spots had been taken.

Sona followed in after her, free now of her emerald green apron and kitchen towels, carrying a plate of scorched rice and another plate of fresh-herb Kuku-- Cordelia’s favorite. A twinge of guilt went through her as she noticed the plates of comfort food her mother had prepared for no one else, but Cordelia.

“Sorry about the wait, gentlemen,” said Sona as she placed the food on the table. “I hope you’re all hungry and wish to expand your palettes. These are all dishes from Tehran. We thought you might like to experience something from our home.”

Augustus looked at the green pie-shaped dish placed directly in front of him as if it might come to life and attack him.

“It’s called Kuku,” said Cordelia, serving herself a large piece before anyone else. “It’s delicious.”

“It’s green,” said Augustus and looked to his father for help.

Consul Pounceby just laughed. “You didn’t have to go out of your way for us. We would have been happy with fish and chips or a nice shepherds pie.” He forked a piece of pork onto his plate with a small helping of scorched rice.

"What kind of pie?" asked Cordelia with a mouth full of Kuku.

“I thought it might be nice to have something from home for our first night here,” said Sona.

“It’s looks wonderful, darling,” said Elias.

The conversation took a small reprieve as everyone ate their meals. Metal forks clinked against plates and ice rattled around in glassware in the silence. Marcus Pounceby chewed with his mouth open and took a particular fondness to the Kuku, though his son took one bite and then refused to acknowledge it again. Inquisitor Bridgestock proceeded to take a drink of his wine after each bite to clear his throat. Cordelia felt a brief sense of satisfaction at the light sheen of sweat that coated his brow after having a piece of pork.

“We’re not used to such flavors here in England,” said Inquisitor Bridgestock, dabbing his face with his napkin. “It’s quite exotic.”

“I may have gone a bit heavy handed on the peppers,” said Sona as she soaked a piece of her pork in the sauce. “Can I get anyone some water or milk, perhaps?”

Cordelia forced herself not to laugh.

“Milk?” inquired Marcus. “Does that help?”

“It does,” said Sona.

“That won’t be necessary.” Bridgestock patted his distended stomach. “I’m quite finished as is. If I drink a glass of milk you’ll have to roll me out the door or call my wife and have her come drive me home.”

“How is Mary Beth?” asked Sona. “It’s a shame she couldn’t come tonight. I did look forward to seeing her again.”

Another easy lie from her mother. The last time Mary Beth and Sona met, Sona couldn’t stop talking about what a deplorable know-it-all with questionable moral Mary Beth was and how the Bridgestock’s may have not been the best family to adopt the young Ariadne girl. To go from such strong feelings towards the Bridgestock's to inquiring about her as if her absence was missed surprised Cordelia. Her mother’s ability to be so languid never ceased to amaze her.

“She’s well. She simply didn’t want to be present for a bunch of Clave talk.” Bridgestock wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin. “Not when she had a previously schedules game of bridge with some of the other wives. You should go sometime, Sona.”

Her mother’s tight smile was all Cordelia needed to know. She’d been invited to a few bridge games and attended one thinking that at least Tessa would be there and she’d have someone to talk to, but when she got home Sona looked exhausted and explained that all the women at the bridge club did was gossip, smoke, and drink expensive wine. There was not one game of bridge to be played. She then went into a rather hilarious impression of the Inquisitor's wife, with her pinched face and animated hands that may have been slightly exaggerated, but had even Alastair snickering.

“Perhaps when things are a bit more settled,” said Sona and took a long drink from her water glass.

“That reminds me,” said Marcus as he placed his napkin on the table, “we’ve interrupted your move in day. We apologize. We’ll get out of your way just as soon as we finish some business with Elias. Should we retire to the study, gentlemen?”

“Yes,” said Bridgestock as he rose from the table. “There is much to discuss regarding this Downworlder business. We’ll need to brief you on some of the changes we’re making regarding the laws and how we are expecting those on patrol to be our inforcers. We’d appreciate your opinion on a few of these matter before we hold the official Clave meeting in two weeks.”

“Uh, yes,” said Elias as he stood from the table too. “Cordelia, would you mind helping your mother with the dishes and then come and join us—“

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” said the Inquisitor. “Our talk will just bore her. We can explain everything to her at the official meeting with the rest of the Clave.”

Elias’s grip flexed on his dining room chair. “My daughter will be one of those patrolling the streets of your city. I would like for her to be prepared and understand what is expected of her.”

“Kill demons and any downworlders that dares to step out of line,” whispered Augustus under his breath. “Not much else left to understand.”

Demons can take the shape of many things, she thought. Even privileged, annoying boys.

She might be able to plead her case against the Clave if she were to accidentally stab him.

“It will all be explained at the meeting,” continued Bridgestock. “Until then, Cordelia will not be allowed to patrol alone and will instead train with Augustus.”

Cordelia couldn’t stop the pinched look that took over her face. Her mother nudged her underneath the table before anyone could see her.

The men filed out of the dining room, leaving their half-cleared plates of food for Cordelia and Sona to clean up. They piled the dishes and separated the silverware in silence before carting everything back into the kitchen.

Sona turned on the faucet over the deep bucket sink and held her hand under it waiting for the water to warm while Cordelia continued to bring plates in and set them on the small island.

She glanced at the old grandfather clock that stood in the hallway each time she passed it. Only two more hours and she could find Lucie. Finally, there would be someone she could speak freely about all of this to and not constantly be shut down; told to smile, and bear it.

The large hand steadily clicked on, but not fast enough.

Not nearly fast enough.

A/N:

This chapter does include some artistic license. To make it relative to the times, I changed it from James having to stay home from a Paris trip due to being expelled from school rather than being sick with the Scarlet Fever.

I also made up Augustus's appearance. It is not canon. It's just how he looks in my head.

Also I have no clue what Inquisitor Bridgestock's wife's name is so I'm calling her Mary Beth.

Comments and hearts are ALWAYS appreciated!

Next update comes out in two weeks: May 28

[irishseeeker]

                                              the story of us

summary:  Five times Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgeton were just friends and one time they were more.

--

chapter 1: if one thing had been different, would everything be different?

Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgerton meet at Oxford University.

They’re both studying law and business, and they’re in the same college of the many in their university. They have nearly identical schedules, which usually resulted in heated debates in most of their lectures. They’re partnered up for seminars for their first semester, which means an hour a week the two of them and a tutor spend an hour discussing readings, essays and of course, arguing further.

Oddly enough, after a month of arguing and bickering, they sort of become best friends.  

They lived in the same accommodation, a co-ed accommodation which Kate had thought was scandalous at first, but it ends up being amazing. They form a friend group in their course, and they all live together. It's sort of perfect, really. Kate had had friends in school, but she had never had a friendship group like this or a best friend like Anthony. For the first time, she felt like she truly belonged.

They still argued constantly, much to the amusement of their friends, but they also knew each other’s coffee orders and why he’s scared of bees and she’s scared of thunderstorms.

He’s the first boy-friend Kate has ever had, and she’s definitely his first platonic girl-friend as he seems to sleep with the rest of them.

They’re completely different, yet they understand each other. He’s a Bridgerton, an Oxford legacy with an actual title, and she’s a Sheffield from a small town in Somerset on a scholarship to Oxford. He went to Eton, she went to her local secondary school.

They spend their first year at university either in the library, in their rooms or drunk in a club or pub. Always together.

“So, you and Anthony,” Her friend, Anna, commented as they walked to class one chilly December day. Anthony was up ahead with some of the lads, the group of them laughing loudly and occasionally shoving each other. Kate had decided a while ago she would never fully understand the male species.

“Yes?” Kate asked, turning to raise an eyebrow at Anna. She knew what Anna was implying, it wasn’t the first time she had been asked about it and it was only December.

“You’re quite close,” She commented further, grinning at Kate as she opened up the Law building’s door.

“We’re good friends,” Kate shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat up. “That’s all.”

“The way he looks as you doesn’t seem that friendly to me,” said Anna, nudging Kate with her hip. Anna had long blonde hair, pale skin and a wide smile. She was also very petite. Kate was the opposite.

Kate was tall, around 5’10, which people oddly liked to to remind her about a lot. As if she wasn't aware of it. She was lucky she had never suffered from acne, bar the occasional stress spots, so her skin was clear and smooth. She had long, dark thick hair. It never stayed straight and was always knotted, so she usually just let it lie down her back. She had met the girls Anthony typically went for and she didn’t fit the picture.

Kate had long accepted that and wouldn't entertain the idea any further.

“He doesn’t look at me like anything,” Kate rolled her eyes, feeling her throat closing up slightly as they walked into their lecture hall and took a seat in the middle. “He saw me puke my guts out last week, so it’s fair to say he’s not looking at me like anything.”

She had gotten far too drunk on a night out last Thursday and she could still feel her hangover. It had been a particularly stressful day with a bad grade on an essay and a harsh feedback session from a tutor. She had embarrassingly burst into tears when Anthony had stopped by her room to go to dinner, and he held her as she cried and called their tutor a twat.

He then suggested they all go out. She had apparently danced on top of tables, attempted to take most of her clothes off (and was stopped from doing so) and then passed out. Anthony had carried her home. Not that she remembered anything, most of the night was a blur.

She was never drinking tequila again.

“He was the one holding your hair back,” Anna gave her a pointed look, raising her eyebrows. “I’m just saying, I think you two would be good together. Kate and Anthony has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

Before Kate could object, she felt someone appear sit down beside them. “Hey,” A voice appeared beside them and Kate nearly jumped, looking at Anthony. He was wearing a grey jumper and jeans, his nose red from the cold outside. “What are you talking about?”

“What we’re wearing to the Law ball,” Anna replied swiftly, and Kate let out a sigh of relief that her friend had stopped talking. The Law Ball was being held next weekend, just before the term ended for Christmas and all assignments were over.

“Oh,” Anthony said, taking out his laptop and logging into it. “Well, Kate, you should wear something that’s hard to get out of. I don’t think the law society will take kindly to one of its members stripping in the middle of the dancefloor.”

“Fuck off.” She elbowed him as Anna burst out laughing, and Anthony grins at her. She can’t help but laugh too even if she’s mortified.

After Christmas, when they’re back at university and exams are over, he teaches her how to drive. Mary, her step-mother and the only mother she’s ever had, never learned, and everything had been within walking distance back home. She had never had the chance to learn. She had got the train to university when she’d moved, and you walked everywhere. Anthony always had his car with him as he went home a lot to see his siblings and mother.

When he finds out she can’t drive, he insists on teaching her. “I’ve taught two of my siblings. Including Colin. If I can teach Colin, I can teach anyone.”

They’re about ten minutes into it before they start arguing.

Kate had never thought driving could be so stressful.

“Clutch!”

“I am clutching!” She shrieked, pushing the pedal forward as her ankles began to ache.

“Fuck me-brake, Kate!”

“Stop shouting at me!”

She pulls up the handbrake so hard she’s surprised she didn’t break it, and gets out of the car and refuses to get back in. They had gone to a retail park with a largely empty parking lot to practice in. He eventually convinces her to get back in the car, after apologizing numerous times, and he’s a lot nicer as she gets behind the wheel again.

Her birthday is in March, and he gets her driving lessons. They’re ridiculously expensive, and she initially refuses to accept them for a week. They argue about it, money has never been an object to him and it’s something she’s never had much of, so their perspectives are different.

She eventually accepts them and thanks him, after he insists for the twentieth time he didn’t mean it in any way other than to help her and so he would never have to teach her. She really wanted to be able to drive, to be able to afford a car eventually and drive home to Mary and Edwina more. She did warn him if he ever spent more than 20 pounds on her again, she’d murder him.

It’s the start of May when she passes her test, and he’s waiting for her outside the centre. He twirls her around as she runs towards him, shouting she’d passed, and they get McDonalds to celebrate. She thanks him for everything, and he shrugs it off because he’s Anthony. They do celebrate with their friends in the pub later that evening, and she gets very drunk, but their McDonalds that afternoon will hold a special place in her heart.

She’s beginning to think he always will, too.

Her dad’s memorial service is on a Sunday in June. It had been five years since he died, five years of missing him and him missing everything. Her graduating school, her getting into university, her first day at university. Kate planned to get the train back home for the day and get the last one back this evening. She had two exams on Friday and Saturday so she couldn’t have gone home earlier, and she couldn’t miss any of her tutorials or lectures tomorrow. A part of her was relieved, she didn’t want to stay at home. It was too sad and university was a good distraction.

It was far too early to be awake on a Sunday, it was 7am, but she had to be home before twelve for the service and the train was two hours.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the whatsapp messages that appeared on her screen.

Anthony: i’m outside

Kate raised an eyebrow at the text, grabbing her bag and heading downstairs, outside their accommodation. She walked out onto the road, eventually spotting him. “Anthony?”

“Hey,” He said, smiling at her. He was leaning against his car, his hands in his pockets. “We better hit the road. We’ll need to stop at a Starbucks drive through as well, I need caffeine.”

Kate stared at him, unsure of what to say or what was going on. He had been the person she had mentioned it to out of their friends, that she wouldn’t be around on Sunday. “What do you mean? I’m going to my dad’s service.”

“I know Kate,” He said softly, opening the passenger side door for her. “I figured I’d drive you. I don’t want you to be alone, so I thought I’d come. I know how hard today can be, so,” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, clearly very uncomfortable. “If it’s okay, that is. If you don’t want me to come, I can go.”

She stared at him. “Oh Anthony,” She half sobbed, completely breaking down and throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was probably the nicest thing someone had ever done for her. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed someone until she saw him in front of her. She squeezed him tightly, pushing the tears back that were brewing under her eyelids. “Thank you.”

She hadn’t had to ask, he was just there. That was Anthony Bridgerton.

“It’s okay,” He murmured, squeezing her back before she removed herself off him, half sniffling. Anthony had never handled emotional women well. “Let’s go? You have music privileges but if I hear one one direction song, they’re gone.”

“As if you don’t already know the lyrics and like them,” Kate teased, climbing into the car and putting on her seatbelt.

“I have three younger sisters,” He grumbled, flicking a glance at the rearview mirror as he pulled out onto the road. “Of course I know the lyrics.”

It’s a long and hard day, but she feels better when Mary, her stepmother, her mum, opens their front door and hugs her. Edwina squeals as she runs towards Kate, hugging her tightly.

“Hey guys,” Kate said, smiling as she stepped aside and gestured awkwardly to Anthony. “This is my friend from university, Anthony.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Anthony said, oddly formal as he extended his hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Mary said, smiling at Anthony as she gestured to them to come inside. “Come in! We can have some tea and biscuits before we head off.” She shot Kate an amused smile behind Anthony’s back, who was being lead into the kitchen by a chattering Edwina.

Kate ignored Mary, because she knew that look and there was no look needed. There was nothing going on between her and Anthony.

The memorial is long, and quite sad. Anthony puts his arm around Kate at one point, when she can’t hold her tears, silently streaming down her cheeks. There’s a small lunch at the local pub afterwards, which Kate spends mostly talking to old friends of her fathers and familiar faces she hadn’t seen since she had left for university.

Kate takes Anthony on a walk down the pier, where she spent most of her childhood hanging out with her friends. “I had my first kiss there,” She pointed at the edge of the pier where there were a few steps that led to the sea. “I had my first drink there as well. I remember how disgusted I was about how disgusting beer was. All that hype for it to taste like piss.”

Anthony snorted, licking his lips as he tried to keep up with his melting ice cream. His face was a mess, a few sprinkles at the edge of his ice cream stained mouth. “Very romantic. So this is where the Kate Sheffield came to be?”

“It is indeed. Here,” She chuckled, stopping in her tracks as she reached up to wipe his white stained mouth softly. “You’re very messy.”

He was staring at her as she wiped his mouth, and her brain had only caught up with her actions a few moments later. She was touching his face, her hand on his cheek as she wiped his mouth.

His mouth.

His perfectly, slightly rose tinted lips.

“Oh my god! Kate!” Her old school friend, Ophelia Nixon, who had gone to university in Nottingham screeched as she ran up to Kate and hugged her. Kate introduced Anthony and they made polite conversation before Kate said they better head back as they had a long drive ahead of them.

The moment between her and Anthony had come and gone as quickly as it had happened. Neither of them acknowledged it.

Kate shook her head, thinking she was being ridiculous. There wasn’t a moment, of course there wasn’t.

Right?

“I like him,” Mary said later that evening, hugging Kate at the doorstep as her and Anthony were about to leave. Anthony had already said goodbye, and he was waiting in the car to give the Sheffields a private moment.

“I like him too,” Kate said, giving her mother a pointed look. “As a friend.”

“Of course dear,” Mary brushed Kate’s thick hair out of her eyes, winning at her. “It was lovely to see you, darling. Safe drive home. I love you a lot.”

“I love you too,” She hugged Mary one last time, before moving to hug her sister.

“I hate when you go,” Edwina murmured, wrapping her arms around her sister tightly. “You should bring back boys more. Especially ones who look like that.”

“Edwina!”

“What?” Her sister replied innocently, but she was smirking. “He definitely likes you.”

“I love you,” Kate said pointedly, ending the conversation as she pulled away from her sister. “I’ll call you both later.”

“Love you,” Edwina was laughing, waving in her and Anthony’s direction. “Bye Anthony!”

Anthony looked up and waved as Kate groaned, turning to give her a sister a murderous glare as she climbed into the car.

“You okay?” Anthony asked as Kate waved at her mother and sister’s fading figures as they drove off.

“Yeah,” She said, that feeling of sadness still aching slightly in the pit of her stomach. The years passed, and it got slightly easier, but it would always hurt. She smiled at him. “Thank you for today.”

“Of course,” said Anthony, returning her smile before focusing back on the road as they sat in a comfortable silence. Kate felt herself dozing off, the events of the day catching up on her, but as she fell asleep thinking about how much her dad would have liked Anthony.

Siena Rosso comes into the picture at the start of their second year. Kate doesn’t understand their relationship, if it even is a relationship, and deep down she knows she doesn’t want to understand. She prefers to not think about it, prefers to not think about that gut wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach when she sees them together.

Besides, Siena is nice. She’s studying drama in the year below them. She’s witty, gorgeous, has no problem putting Anthony in his place and Kate understands why he likes her. She’s absolutely nothing like Kate.

Kate had never had much experience with boys, something she had long come to terms with in school and was once aware of again in university. It did happen, she had more opportunities in university-it just didn't happen a lot. Boys didn’t seem to gravitate towards her and she never got asked out on dates. It just wasn’t something that happened to her.

Edwina had even gotten a boyfriend long before Kate had.

She’s at a party one night in October, and Anthony isn’t there. Kate had been trying to make more of an effort with people outside of their friendship group and particularly people who weren’t Anthony. He had a life outside of her, and she would have one outside of him. She was invited by Poppy, a girl she had met in one of her history electives.

She gets paired up with Simon Basset for beer pong at the pre-drinks, and they were getting on very well. She didn’t know him at all, she only knew of him from Anthony. They had gone to Eton together, but Kate hadn’t met him until tonight. Anthony had been good friends with him for years, but hadn’t thought to introduce Kate or invite her whenever him and Simon met up.

“I’m Simon,” He introduced himself as grinned at her. “I really don’t like losing at beer pong.”

“Good thing I don’t lose,” Kate replied swiftly, smirking right back at him.

They walk to the club together and he gives her a piggyback when she complains her feet hurt. She puts up an instagram story of Simon and her winning beer pong and another of them smiling at the camera.

She ignores Anthony’s reply to her story, and she drinks more.

When she's on her third drink, Kate decides her and Simon were flirting. They were definitely flirting.

“What course did you say you were in again?” Simon shouts over the music, his hands lingering on her waist.

“Law,” Kate shouts back at him, leaning up slightly to speak in his ear.

“Ah! Do you know Anthony Bridgerton?”

"Yeah!" Kate tries to contain the grin that forms on her face the minute he's mentioned. "He's one of my best mates."

“Wait,” said Simon, the grin on his face completely disappearing. “You’re Kate?”

“Yeah,” She said, raising an eyebrow slightly at Simon's fallen face. “Has he mentioned me?”

“I can’t do it, I’m sorry,” Kate looks confused and Simon sighs, shaking his head. “I can’t do it to Anthony.”

“What? Can’t do what?” said Kate, raising an eyebrow. “Oh! No, no. We’re just friends!”

“I still can’t,” Simon insisted, actually taking a step back from her. Did Eton breed these boys to be so dramatic? “Believe me, I want to, but I can’t. Bro-code.”

“That’s ridiculous. Wait, did he say something to you?” Kate asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at him and feeling quite infuriated. Why couldn’t he do that to Anthony? Kate was his friend, not his sister. Not that it made a difference but to boys it clearly did. Kate didn’t know what category it fell into.

Simon just winked at her, “I better go before I do something I’ll regret but really won’t regret. I’ll see you around Kate,” Simon then literally ran away from Kate, and Kate was left standing there, gobsmacked.

“What just happened?” Poppy asked, walking up to Kate and following her gaze towards the back of Simon’s head, fading into the crowd.

Kate sighed, taking a long gulp of her vodka and cranberry. “I have absolutely no idea.”

The following day, Kate was feeling rather sorry for herself as she sat in the common room of their accommodation. She was incredibly hungover, exhausted and had sat through two lectures back to back that morning. She was meeting Anthony for lunch before she went to sleep for the rest of the day.

Anthony strode into the common room, a frown on his face as he sat down opposite her. "Were you with Simon Basset last night?”

“Wha?” Kate mumbled, her hangover pounding against her temple. “Hello to you too. Oh, yeah.” She would have rather forgotten about him, the guy who had rejected her in the middle of the club.

“And?” Anthony pressed, staring at Kate rather disgruntled.

Kate sat up, rather confused at his attitude. She was more than familiar with Anthony's moodiness, but this was slightly bizarre. He looked pissed. “And what?”

“Kate,” Anthony snapped, looking oddly serious as he pulled out his sandwich. “What do you think? Did you get with him?”

She didn’t care for his tone and she glared at him as she lifted her head. She ignored his question. “Did you say something to Simon Basset about me?”

Anthony gaped at her, his mouth hanging open with his half chewed lunch. “What?”

“Ew, shut your mouth you animal,” She scolded, making a face at him. “He mentioned you last night.”

Anthony put his sandwich down, looking at her seriously. “Did you get with him?”

Kate felt her cheeks heat up, forcing herself to look at him and scowl. “That’s none of your business!”

He was not pleased in the slightest. His tone was cold with a hint of irritation, lower than usual. “Kate.”

“Anthony.”

He leaned forward as he spoke, “Seriously, Kate.”

“Not that it has anything to do with you, but no, we didn’t!” She exclaimed, not understanding why he was acting quite hostile and why he was acting that question. They weren’t the type of friends to talk about who they got with, and Kate wasn’t really that type of person anyway. She was easily mortified. “He wouldn’t because of you. Something about some misogynistic bro-code.”

Anthony let out what looked like a sigh of relief, but she wasn’t sure. She knew that she would never truly understand men, and this was another example of why she shouldn’t ever bother trying.

“What did you say to him?” Kate asked, frowning at him, now happily munching away at his sandwich. She felt ridiculous asking, but she was confused and annoyed. “Did you tell him not get with me? You better not have Anthony Bridgerton. I will murder you.”’

“I didn’t tell him anything! Jesus, Kate. It’s Bro-Code. You don’t get with sisters, girlfriends, ex-girlfriends or girls who are best friends of your friends. There’s some lines you don’t cross,” He shrugged. “It would be like me getting with Edwina.”

“Okay, I’m eating my lunch and I'm extremely hangover,” She gagged, shuddering at the thought. “That is not the same. That code is ridiculous. Women aren't possessions you can ban your friends from getting with simply because they mean something to you.”

“It would be like you getting with Benedict!” The coloured veins in his neck were sticking out and she could see his frustration. “It’s wrong and immoral.”

“Again, eating my lunch. Benedict is a child so that’s another disgusting example I won't be entertaining. You're being absolutely ridiculous,” She shook her head, “I can still get with whoever I want. I don’t need your permission or some stupid code dictating that.”

“I never said you did,” He retorted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Besides, Basset is my friend and all, but he’s bad news. He flies through girls. He’s not relationship material.”

“That’s sort of the pot calling the kettle black, though, isn’t it? Siena is still with you.” She felt like she had gone too far, but she was too angry to care. Siena was a sensitive topic, an unspoken topic, but she did it anyway. “I know what I can handle.”

“Do you, though?” His tone wasn’t angry, it was cold. She had struck a nerve. He looked at her with a blank expression and Kate felt like he was looking right through her. “It’s not like you know what you’re talking about. You’re not exactly experienced, are you?”

Kate stared at him, speechless, as if her ability to speak had been slapped out of her. She felt the heat rush behind her eyes and the tears that were quickly following, but in that moment she’d rather die than cry in front of him.

She just grabbed her bag and walked off, ignoring his calls behind her.

They don’t speak for three days, which frankly, sucks. It's their first big fight in the two years they've known each other. They bickered constantly but they never actually fought. It was awful. They still had to see each other, at lectures and around the university, but she sits at the back and as far away from him as possible. He had tried to speak to her and pretend like nothing had happened the following day, but she had just walked past him.

He had really hurt her feelings. Her lack of experience was a sensitive topic, and he knew that, everyone knew that and he had still thrown it back in her face.

“Kate?”

It’s a Wednesday night and she’s in her room, writing an essay about corporate law. She had said no to going to the pub with her friends, she wasn’t in the mood. She was trying to focus on her lectures but her mind kept revolving back to Anthony bloody Bridgerton.

“Kate, I know you’re in there. I can see the light,” Anthony’s voice was loud and clear through her door. “Please talk to me. I’m really sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was an asshole.”

She didn’t say anything, twirling her pen around with her fingers. Her breath had caught in her throat as she heard his voice, she hadn’t expected him to be there. She figured he had gone to the pub, or was out with Siena.

“I hate not talking to you. I miss you. Please? I brought you those cookies you like. And those fizzy bears,” His voice was pleading, and she knew he meant it. “I’m so sorry. Please.”

She opened the door after a few seconds, staring at him, and then at the goods in his hands. Her willpower had long expired and he sounded so sad, so desperate. He sounded like she felt. “White chocolate chip?”

“Of course,” He said, standing up straight and handing her the food. “I’m so sorry, Kate. Can I-?"

“Come in,” She murmured, walking in and collapsing on her bed. She pulled her legs up, making room for him on the bed. She opened the fizzy bears, offering them to him first.

He hesitated as he looked at her, biting his lip. “We’re okay?”

She nodded, “We’re okay. I am sorry about what I said too, you know. About the pot calling the kettle black comment. You were still a bigger asshole, but I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it. You’re not wrong and I wasn’t exactly nice, was I?” She snorted, and he laughed. “I really did mean it from a good place. I don’t want anyone to mess you around like that.”

“I know, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” She replied, licking the sugar off her lips. “You need to take that toxic masculinity down a notch, Bridgerton.”

“I know, I know what I said was wrong. It took me longer than I'd like to admit, but I understand that now,” He replied, his voice soft and she felt guilty for being mean to him. He didn’t look great, he looked tired and the skin under his eyes was darker than usual. “I am sorry. Please don’t ever ignore me again. I’d rather get my wisdom teeth out again than go through that.”

“Well, don’t be an asshole and we won’t have any problems, will we?” said Kate, smiling sweetly at him as she opened up the cookies, feeling the white chocolate melt in her mouth. It tasted glorious.

“Whatever or who you want to do, I will support it. I promise,” He looked slightly in pain as he spoke. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” She nudged him with her foot. “We’re friends again, relax.”

He looked relieved but slightly uneasy. “Is this one of those friendship moments where we should hug?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. Affection was not something that came natural to Anthony Bridgerton but it was adorable when he tried. “Hard pass.”

They spent the rest of the evening in her dorm, chatting about everything and anything. It had only been three days of not speaking, and she had missed him more than she should have. She had missed him a dangerous amount, and it seemed like he had missed her too.

Kate shook her head, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind as she focused on Anthony’s story about some trouble his younger brother Colin had gotten into in Eton yesterday. Ever since his father died, Colin had been acting more and more reckless. Anthony didn’t know what to do with him and his mother just coddled Colin.

Their second year is a blur of exams, parties, clubbing, more exams, assignments as winter turns to spring and spring to summer. It’s over before it feels like it has started, and Kate can’t believe it.

Anthony’s on and off relationship ends as well, when Sienna decides to study abroad in Paris for her second year and leaves at the start of the summer. Kate doesn’t let herself think about why she feels lighter, but she still brings him McDonalds and beer when he texts them they broke up. His room is pretty much packed up, unlike Kate, Anthony is very organized. Their second year was officially over and they were leaving tomorrow. Kate hadn’t even packed, but she knew he’d help in the morning.

He doesn’t talk about his feelings, obviously, because he’s Anthony. They watch New Girl instead, on his laptop, eating crisps and drinking coke, until he shocks her and talks.

“She said I was lost,” He murmured, playing with his pocket watch. It was something he always did. “That I didn’t know what I wanted and she couldn’t keep waiting for me to figure it out. I wasn’t fair to her.”

“Oh,” said Kate, gulping slightly. Kate was just above Anthony on how to deal with feelings and general emotion, and that bar was set pretty low anyway. “I think, sometimes, some of us just take longer to figure out what we want. She must know she wants and she’s not wrong for going after it, even if it means leaving other people behind.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s right about you though,” She continued, trying to phrase her words delicately. “You’ve been through a lot, Anthony. It’s okay if you need more time to figure things out. We’re still young. No one meets the person they’re meant to be with when they’re 20 years old.”

“My parents met when they were 18,” He retorted, raising a pointed eyebrow. Anthony’s parents had been madly in love since they were teenagers and they had had Anthony quite young.

“Okay, well, they’re the exception then, not the rule,” She nudged him with her elbow lightly. “I know we’re not the feeling sort, but everything is going to be okay. It hurts because she mattered, and that’s a good thing. It’s better than not feeling anything at all. And eventually it will hurt less and less, and I’ll be here until it doesn’t.”

“Thanks, Kate,” murmured Anthony, looking uncomfortable but he still nudged her back which is probably the most affectionate exchange they’ve ever had between them. “Thank god you’re you. I couldn’t handle a friend who asks me how I’m feeling all the time.”

Kate snorted, rolling her eyes. The word rang in her head, a friend, but that’s what she was. That’s what he was to her. Her best friend, really. Then why did it sting when he said it? “I mean this is the nicest way possible, you need to see a therapist.”

He smacked her with a pillow, and she kicked him in the ribs, and that was the last they spoke of Siena and anything remotely to do with feelings.

Kate ignored the mixture of guilt and relief in her chest to see the back of Siena. She didn't question why it was there.

Kate had been away for most of the summer after their second year of university, traveling abroad with Edwina and Mary. It had been a trip Mary had saved up for for years and it was finally happening. They went interrailing around Europe, from Prague to Paris, staying in hostels and traveling by train.

It was the longest Kate and Anthony had ever been apart since they had met, and it was strange. They spoke on facetime most days, well, Kate spoke and Anthony listened as she spoke about her travels around Europe with her mum and sister. She sent him the picture of her holding the eiffel tower, a picture of her at the colosseum and sunset at a beach in Mykonos.

Not that Kate would ever admit it to another living soul, as much as Edwina had teased her relentlessly about it, she had missed him a lot. She had come to the realization that Anthony was her best friend. Her first, true best friend. He was someone she had always wanted to have in a friend, one that was depicted in movies and television shows-she had had good friends before university, but no one was like Anthony. She didn’t have to be anyone but herself around him.

She was thrilled when he had asked her to spend the last month of the summer with Anthony at his house in Kent. She loved Mary and Edwina but Somerset was boring and she needed to get away.

Kate felt strange.

She had this uncomfortable, nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach for most of the train ride on her way to Kent. Their flight had arrived in England yesterday morning and once they had driven home, Kate was gone the next morning. She had barely slept last night but she wasn’t sure if it was out of excitement or anxiety at the thought of seeing Anthony again.

She had changed her outfit three times before setting on a violet sundress with a daisy print.

It was just Anthony, Kate.

That was the problem.

It was Anthony.

The train finally pulled in at her station, snapping Kate out of her complicated thoughts and she dragged her suitcase off the baggage railing, glancing around. It was an old station, all she could see in the distance was fields and trees. It was just before noon and all the station had was a man behind the information desk and a small corner shop.

She walked out to the front of the station, half wheeling and half dragging her semi-functioning suitcase behind her as she glanced around the car park. Kate pulled out her phone, pressing the call button on Anthony’s contact.

“About time.”

Kate turned around to see Anthony Bridgerton grinning at her, a pair of black sunglasses covering his eyes. He looked so relaxed, in a simple white t-shirt and blue shorts, suitable for a warm English August in Kent.

It made her feel warm inside.

“Hey there, stranger,” Kate said, her cheeks beginning to ache as her grin matched his own.

She didn’t know who moved first, but when Anthony’s tanned arms wrapped around her, essentially lifting her off the ground and her arms wrapped around his neck, there was one thing Kate knew for certain.

It was the best hug of her entire life.

[darkromanceblackburn]

Chromeskull falling for the reader whose a Burlesque Dancer who wears a revealing Bride of Frankenstein costume that shows off childhood scars that have tattoos to look like stitches over them.

Chromeskull x Reader- Freakish Proposition

Authors Note: Writing again for my 6′7 tall husband....and also trying to get back into the writing game more.

Warning: None

Words: 2.1k

Jesse Cromeans was an extrovert by any means and the nature of his business got him into all type of places, especially exclusive clubs varying from classy snobby ones to stripper nightclubs to the more unusual ones, so no wonder that Halloween was to be spent into a night of fine alcohol and possibly some piggy hunting into these nightclubs.

Halloween meant that he could be more of Chromeskull and less Jesse Cromeans, wearing the chromed skull mask was giving him a boost of power and confidence, not like he really needed it, but for Jesse there was never enough, call him a greedy bastard, but that's how you get successful and respected into the world of the rich and nasty.

Humans were like animals in Jesse's opinion, even him, but here depends on what animal you are according to the food chain, and Jesse was definitely an apex predator and what does a predator do? Stalk piggies and tear them apart, limb by limb.

Nightclubs were the perfect environment for piggies, especially the exclusive ones because all piggies had to do to get a free ticket inside was flash some skin, push their chest out, and bat their eyelashes, looking for a fat walking wallet full of money to support their needs. They didn't care who it was as long as they were buying the piggy the last Gucci purse and gifted them a Porsche for their birthday.

It was the cruel reality of what relationships were like nowadays; there was no such thing as love, it was all business under the facade of sweet-talking and arms holding. Jesse didn't mind cruelty, it was one of his top characteristics, one that gained him his status in society; no wonder men wanted to be in his Oxford shoes and women to choke on his cock in an attempt to get a fancy dinner and a bottle of Moet.

He loved the dim-lit nightclubs, he was accustomed to the eerie vibe it gave, after all, the most interesting part of his life happened at night, and the fact that everyone's attention was pulled on the highlighted stage gave him the opportunity to observe more; more piggies to kill and from the audience sitting at the tables, close to the old geezers, he had plenty to choose from.

The show was about to start in 15 minutes, so he took his time, a waitress coming to deliver a bottle of Lagavulin, a whiskey glass, and a small bucket of ice. She poured Jesse the expensive liquor into the crystal glass, adding two cubs of ice, and he was more than amused when she tried to flash him a view of her cleavage; desperate piggy.

He could see from behind the mask how the other piggies observed; they were predators too in a way, but cheaper ones, their eyes always scanning what the men ordered because that showed how much money they had. 

You don't just simply go to a man who orders one glass of cheap vodka over one who had a whole bottle of a 16-year-old fine whiskey.

Tattooed hands pulled the chromed mask off, and from the corner of his eyes, he could read the disgust on the piggies across the room as they took in his scarred face. He got used to such reactions, but flash a stack of money in their faces and the botoxed bimbos will be on their knees, worshipping his cock.

Jesse wondered how their lips would look cut off and showed up their loose cunts, while their eyes would be filled with tears, blood pouring out of each cut on their caked up skin, each cut deeper than the last.

He was pulled out of his sadistic daydream by a voice announcing that the show will start in 10 seconds and a chorus of applause followed as the red curtain drapes moved to each side, the slow jazz music started as did the girls on the stage started their dancing.

One girl, in particular, pulled on Jesse's attention, unlike the other females, her attire and make-up were different, declaring that she was the lead one, and his assumptions were approved as she started to sing, or better said, you started to sing, the slow beat of the music picking up speed as did the sensual moves.

Unlike the other dancers who wore white, your attire was as black as night, with lace details, a tight corset that made the bald man feel jealous. Most would say that your outfit was skimpy, but that's how the burlesque dancers were supposed to be dressed; sexy, sensual, and very appealing to the eye, and God how much you caught Mr. Cromeans brown eye.

Not only were you a vixen in black lace, but also very adorable, your smile and sparkling eyes showing that you were genuine having the time of your life. Jesse is a very observant man and couldn't ignore the tattoo sleeves down your arms; red and black roses are adorned by delicate barbed wire representing stitches.

If Jesse knew something very well, it was the ink on the skin and could identify scars under the intricate designs, and sure as hell, you were hiding quite a lot for such a delicate, little thing; well, everything was little compared to his intimidating height. It was very unusual to see scars nowadays on women; maybe you had a toxic and abusive relationship, maybe a destructive childhood? 

He was getting curious and not even the depraved looks from the piggies around him got his attention, and that said something because he wasn't on to pass up the opportunity to slaughter some beef. He was more interested in the little ghoul on the stage; you finished your performance and bowed with a grin, waving around, the audience clapping and some wolf-whistling, the scarlet curtain falling down and hiding the stage.

Taking one sip of his whiskey, he saw you march up to the bar in a happy skip like you didn't have a care in the whole world. He snapped his fingers and motioned for the waitress to come to him which she happily did.

"What can I do for you, Sir?" she asked, batting her eyelashes, not at all impressing Jesse.

'Her. Tell her to come over here.' he typed on the phone then showed the waitress, who dropped her sugar-sweet attitude and rolled her eyes.

Note: Hang the waitress by her guts later.

You were ready to get a drink for yourself too after the performance, but someone tapped you on the shoulder. Turning around you saw it was Tina, who had a scowl on her face.

"That bald guy over there wants to talk with you." she told you, then just like that left. You furrowed your eyebrows and finally, your gaze landed on the said man, who motioned for you with a curled finger to come to him.

Curiosity took over you and you moved over to him.

"Yes? May I help you?" you asked and you noticed that he was typing on the phone, then an electronic voice startled you.

'Sit down. I could use some company.'

Well, that certainly took you by surprise; one that he wanted your company when he could get any waitress or glamorous trophy girl from this nightclub, and two...He was mute....That or either he was some weirdo who hated to talk.

You did as he wanted, taking a seat across from him, looking down at your hands, not knowing exactly what to discuss with him, not to mention he didn't even tell you his name, so you decided to start with that, introducing yourself.

'Jesse Cromeans, a pleasure to meet you, little ghoul.' you really needed to get used to that spooky electronic voice from his phone.

"Actually, I was supposed to be Frankensteins Bride, but it turned out to be more of a ghoul." you said with a nervous chuckle, which he returned with a smirk, one that seemed to suit him, despite the scars he had, he was...unique; not necessarily handsome or drop-dead beautiful, but he had that specific charisma that drew people in like an aphrodisiac.

'And where is your Frankenstein?' You had to stifle a laugh at his humorous question, so might as feel continue to entertain him.

"Probably in a coffin." you answered, making Jesse's smirk devilish so like you said something very appealing and familiar.

"Seriously, no. No undead husband or boyfriend." you said, licking your dry lips. You really needed a drink and like Jesse could read body language he called upon the waitress again, and you ordered your favorite.

'White Russian? I pictured you more of a Bloody Mary.'

Again, you smiled and laughed.

"Not a fan of tomato juice. If I had to choose a red drink, maybe cherry or strawberry." you responded.

Although your answers seemed all casual and not even flirty, to Jesse they triggered the killer side, because when you're a very sleek serial killer like Chromeskull, you got a dark sense of humor.

'Performing again next weekend?'

"No. This was just a one-time thing, I'm not exactly a showgirl and if I'm gonna be honest the only reason I was so relaxed was because of the make-up that made me look like a monster girl." you answered, taking a sip of your drink.

'If not a showgirl, then what?'

Jesse was simply curious; if she wasn't a performer here then with what was she filling her time, what did she worked as?

"I am studying medicine, but it's not exactly the path I've wanted." you said with a sigh, your cheerful mood dropping.

'Interesting. The medicine you say? And why did you choose it if you don't like it?'

"No, no! I like...well, liked it, but let's say it's not cheap to stay for so many years in college and I don't wanna burden my parents with the taxes that are way out of their limit."

A good-hearted piggy? That was something new.

'How did you managed to get so far if you say the taxes are way over your budget?'

He was pretty much dissecting her, he wanted to know more; and it wouldn't really surprise him if she said that she did unorthodox things for money, most girls in college do.

"Well, when I finished high-school I went to military school and went for two years in Afganistan, but you know...not the perfect environment for a small girl like me so I came back to try something else. I chose medicine, I was really curious about it, and with the money from the military years, I managed to pay my taxes until now.

Military? That would explain the scars, you don't need to be a detective to put the pieces together.

'Now?'

"Now? I work three jobs; at a library, as a waitress for a kids' restaurant, and recently here, but I think I'm gonna pass....Skimpy clothes aren't my cup of tea." you said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, putting one between red-painted lips, only to be snatched away by Jesse.

You looked at him with a dumbfounded look.

'Talk. Smoking later.'

You sighed, not in the mood to make a scene over a cigarette, plus he seemed like the type who will have his way no matter what.

"What else do you want to know?"

'Amuse me.'

You snorted at that.

"What do you want me to juggle with knives?" you asked in a sassy tone.

Oh, piggy....That would definitely be entertaining.

'I have a proposition for you. If it's really your dream to be a surgeon and dissect people, I can help you get through with taxes.'

"I'm not a prostitute, jerk." you quickly said, probably it was a bit rude, and in other circumstances, Jesse would have bend over the said person and decapitate said piggy, but he was more amused and gave you a silent laugh.

'As much as tempting that sounds, no. I can help you pay the taxes; I can offer you a decent job that won't involve parading for old geezers...but if you want to spice things up I won't deny it.'

Was he really hitting on you?

"I didn't picture you for a philantroph." you responded, earning an arrogant smirk from Jesse, who lightened up the cigarette that he snatched from you, blowing a cloud of smoke in your direction.

'I can be many things, sugar....What do you say?'

Debating a little and looking down at your remaining drink in hand, you chose.

"I'm listening."

'Sweet. I knew you would see things my way.'

[nialledfromfics]

nothing (except for your love)

 a part two oneshot to Summer Camp

pairing: Niall/ofc

word count: 27,192

warnings: sexually explicit content; nsfw; 18+ only please

what holds me when I’m alone, what makes the tiger tame

what turns the sky from black to gold, what sends my tears up in flames.

~~

The last time she had been back in her hometown was nearly four years ago. It was the summer before she had started college, Cat spending her last four weeks as a camp counselor. It was the best fucking summer of her life. The summer she met Niall Horan. 

She had to admit that it was slightly weird being back at her parents house, in her old bedroom. Walls haphazardly covered with posters of The Strokes and Evanescence, half-burnt candles still sitting on her nightstand and her faded yellow daisy comforter neatly tucked into her bed. It looked just as it did the day she left for college, and oddly enough, that made her feel somewhat comforting. Like it was welcoming her home with open arms. At least that's what Cat told herself. Reality of the matter was, the job that she had lined up after graduating college, the same one that she had studied her butt off for, didn’t pan out like she had hoped and left her jobless and up to her eyeballs in student loans and questioning everything she had worked so hard for up until that point. 

Her parents, of course, were beyond ecstatic to have her back home, in her old neighborhood, in her old city. And Cat was happy to be back too, she missed being around her family; her mother, always the one to make sure she was eating well and not surviving off of pizza rolls and Poptarts, her dad, always there when she needed advice or just to lend an ear and her little sister, Katrina, always ready to gossip and bicker at the drop of a hat, like nothing had changed. She was happy to be home, but a part of her wondered if it was just a huge step back for her. That she could have just stayed where she was and made the best of her situation instead of, as she looked at it, crawled back to her parents for help. 

The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. 

But she figured that the only thing she could do at that point was to make the best of her current situation. She was back in the city she grew up in, back in her old room and following the next morning, hopefully back to work. 

•

It was a Friday. Cat woke up bright and early, turning over in her squeaky-framed bed to tap away at the alarm going off on her phone. She grumbled, stretching under the sheets as she rubbed away at the sleep that had consumed her eyes. The rising sun had just started to peek through her curtains and she could already smell the aroma of coffee floating through the air, readily filling her nose. It was her dad. She picked up her phone to glance at the time, needing some convincing, before forcing herself up as she knew her interview was in just a couple short hours. Hopping in the shower, Cat put on the appropriate pressed black pant suit and a pair of beige heels and made sure her hair and makeup were done accordingly before she finally made her way out to the kitchen to grab a much needed cup of that coffee. 

“Morning, Dad,” she greeted her father who had just finished packing up his lunch for the day.  

He looked over at his daughter and gave her a smile. “Good morning, doll.” Cat opened the cabinet and took out a mug, helping herself to the pot of warm coffee. “Don’t you look all dressed up today,” her father then mentioned. 

Spinning around to face him as she took a long sip of her hot beverage, Cat nodded her head. “I have that interview this morning, remember? For that company downtown, Stomon Tech? It’s at 9:30.” 

“Oh right, right,” he stumbled, “you wasted no time, did ya?” 

Cat pressed her lips in a tight line and raised her brows. “Not home for a vacation, Dad, I gotta have a job. I still have bills to pay.” 

He nodded, grabbing his lunch pail and keys off of the counter. “Alright, kiddo, well, good luck and I will see you later. I think Mom is making cacciatore for dinner tonight.” 

Smiling as her father stepped over to kiss her cheek, Cat rubbed his shoulder before he turned to walk towards the front door. “Have a good day at work, Dad.” 

•

Her wide eyes scanned up the towering glass-paneled front of the 24-story building as she sucked in a steadying breath in an effort to appease the nerves that were creeping under her skin. Interviews always made her overly anxious. Would she say the right thing, what they wanted to hear? Were her credentials enough? Did she look and dress the part? Cat let out a tiny groan, annoyed with herself as she forced her feet to move, climbing up the front steps and into the building. 

The Stomon Tech company took up two floors of the massive office building, floors 23 and 24 respectively, and the young woman followed behind a few others that were filing into one of the open elevators. She knew she had to go to the very top floor, as that was where the person she had conversed with instructed her to go, so she watched with bated breath as the numbered buttons slowly lit up one by one as they passed. It seemed like they had stopped at each floor, a good five minutes of people getting on and off, before she finally made it to where she was supposed to be. 

The doors slid open with a ding and she was immediately met with a huge reception area; gorgeous marbled-tiled floors, partitioned walls made of beveled glass and ultra-contemporary light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, all topped off with a stunningly perfect blonde sitting behind a large curved desk that was straight ahead. There was a big sign above the girl’s head that read Stomon Tech Limited, seemingly carved out of a silvery metal. The place was very modern and shiny, very clean and Cat politely smiled as she walked up to the front desk. The blonde peered up at her, a timid grin on her dark painted lips. “Welcome to Stomon Tech, how can I help you?” she asked. 

Cat cleared her throat and placed a hand on the chest-high counter in front of her. She squeezed hard around the edge, hoping it would tame the shaking in her fingers. “Hi, uh, my name is Catherine Williams and I have an interview at 9:30.” 

Tapping at the keyboard of her computer, the receptionist read over her screen before she looked back up at Cat with a tight, but friendlier, smile. “If you want to find a seat right over there,” she instructed, pointing just over Cat’s shoulder to a small reception area, “someone will be with you shortly.” 

“Thank you.” 

Holding her folder of paperwork to her chest, Cat walked over and sat down in one of the chairs, planning to use the extra time to give everything she had brought with her one last check. She had her folder spread out across her knees, quietly scanning through the papers one by one, making sure nothing was amiss. A few minutes had gone by when she heard the ding of the elevator doors open next to her, and she glanced up just as a dark haired man in a suit hurriedly walked by. She paid him no mind and looked back down at her lap, her focus on the remaining paperwork she was going over. Cat bit at her lip as a few muddled whispers between the receptionist and the man floated through the air of the lobby, and she furrowed her brows to concentrate, mouthing the words as she read over the bottom page of her resume. 

“Cat?” 

Her lips stopped moving, her fingertip halting on the paper in front of her. How did that person know her nickname? And why did his voice sound so familiar? Slowly sliding her stare up, from the expensive black oxfords to the perfectly pressed grey suit to the crisp white button up that was left slightly open at the base of his neck, Cat’s breath stalled in her throat as her eyes finally met his. As blue as the salty ocean’s waves, cool and sticking to your skin, her heart nearly skipped a solid beat when he smirked, and then it hit her. Oh my God. “Niall?” 

Narrowing her eyes, she moved her folder from her lap onto the chair as she stood up. Her mouth hanging open slightly as she dragged her stare across his features, his smile getting wider the closer she slowly shuffled over to him. His hair was dark, no longer that bleached out blond that she had remembered of him, and it was cut shorter, styled much better, delicately swept over to the side with little pieces hanging just across his forehead. It looked soft and inviting, pretty if she had to give it an adjective, and the corners of her mouth began to tug into a smile. He was older than her mind was letting her remember him, more refined and his body definitely more defined, at least what she could tell under his extremely well-fitted suit, and he had a thick dark stubble lining his jaw. 

She pushed out a huff as she stepped closer to him and before she could say hello, even mutter a coherent word, he had wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her into a hug. Cat’s eyes fluttered as she buried her nose against his shoulder, inhaling slightly as her hands gently cradled his upper back. He smelled good. Really good. Nothing like the boy sweat and sunscreen that she remembered, but fresh and clean, like a soft floral mint with a subtle hint of cedar. She rolled her eyes at herself for dissecting the man’s cologne as Niall eased himself from the embrace. “Hi, Niall,” Cat finally greeted him, tucking some hair behind her ear. 

“Shit,” Niall huffed, his blue eyes noticeably spanning down Cat’s frame. She looked older too, polished and put together in her fitted dark pantsuit. Her hair was longer than he had remembered, a natural wave adorning the strands and her skin looked softer too, well taken care of and Niall immediately found himself struggling with wanting his hands on her. She looked beautiful, more beautiful than when Niall had seen her last. And he thought that would have been hard to top. She was a hot, fiery little thing at 18 when he had first met her, but now–Niall licked across his lips as his gaze met hers again–now she was a woman, and she was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. He stuffed his hands down into the front pockets of his trousers. “It’s been, what….four years?” 

Cat nodded. “Yeah...it’s, um, it’s been awhile.” 

“How are ya?” he asked her, his head tipping slightly as he kept his stare on hers, “I thought you lived in...Denver, was it? At least that’s where ya were going the last time we spoke.” 

“Yeah, I was living there,” she told him, “that's where I went to college. And I stayed there after I graduated but the job I had...it wasn’t-...well, it just wasn’t working out. So I moved back here, back in with my parents.” Cat scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, wanting to scream at herself for telling him that last bit. 

But he just smiled at her. “You’re parents live here?” 

“Yup, over on the Eastside,” she said, Niall nodding as Cat went on, wrinkling her brows. “Do you...work here too? I’m here for an interview.”

Niall huffed out a chuckle and bowed his head as he rubbed over his chin with his fingers. “Uh, actually,” he started, looking back up at her, “its-...this is my company.” 

Cat’s stare went big, her tongue stumbling over her words. She totally just made a fool out of herself. “Oh...oh God,” she mumbled, Niall highly amused as he peered at her with those dreamy hooded blue eyes of his. Bedroom eyes as Cat liked to remember them, and he knew it. She cleared her throat. “Um, wow, uh...are you interviewing me?” Her brows pulled in as she pointed at herself. 

He chuckled again, waving a hand in front of himself. “No, no, that would be Elena in HR. Probably would be a bit unfair if I were to interview ya. I’d be a little too biased.” 

Cat breathed out a smile and lowered her stare. Her gaze dotted across the silver-speckled tile that rested below her feet. “Yeah, I guess that would be a conflict of interest.” 

Bellowing out a hearty laugh, the reminiscent sound bounced off the glass walls around them and caused Cat to glance up at him. In that moment, with the crinkles forming by his eyes and that soft dimple pressing into his left cheek, he looked exactly like he had four years prior. It made her smile. Niall yanked his hand from his pocket to check his watch. “Shit, um, I really hate to cut this short, Cat,” he began as he met her gaze again, “unfortunately, I’ve got an important meeting startin’ in just a couple minutes, but, um…” 

Niall paused, licking over his lips as his brows pulled in. “We should meet up for drinks tonight.” 

His offer caught her off guard, and she stuttered a little before being able to pull herself together. “Uh...yeah, yeah...sure.” 

“Great,” Niall concluded, the edges of his mouth tugging up, “my secretary will get your number from your file and I’ll give ya a ring.” Cat nodded. “Good luck in there!” 

“Thank you.” 

Niall had already started to walk past the front desk and down the hallway, Cat having just made it back to the chair she had been sitting in. She reached down to pick up her folder when he stopped in his tracks. “Hey, kitty cat?”

The sound of his husky voice and that gritty accent, calling her that very thing that only he called her, that very thing she hadn’t heard in four years, caused her entire body to tense up and an instant warmth to pool in her belly. She slowly turned to face him and he cocked his head back, rolling his tongue in his mouth. “You look really fuckin’ good, by the way.” 

Giving her a wink, no other words were shared between them as he stepped away and disappeared around the corner. Cat couldn’t help but smile. That was the Niall she remembered. 

•

She received a call from Niall a few hours later, inviting her out that evening to a pretty popular bar downtown. Cat, who was already back at her house and into her sweatpants, agreed to meet him there around 9, as that was when Niall said he’d be through with work. She didn’t have much expectations for the night, and she wasn’t trying to encourage any expectations either, far be it to be honest, but she thought that for the sake of going out to a rather upscale place, that she would dress up a bit more than usual. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had dressed up, or even went out to a nice bar for that matter. 

As Cat sat on the bus, the bright neon lights of the busy city nightlife zipping past the window, she glanced down at her lap. For a moment she was questioning what she was wearing; a short blue dress that was low and tight across her chest but flowy around her hips, one that she had bought a year or so back for a friend’s wedding, and a pair of strappy black heels. Maybe, she thought, she had dressed up too much, maybe it would give him the wrong impression. The impression that she wanted anything to do with him. 

Sighing lightly under her breath, Cat turned her head and stared out of the smudged window next to her. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about Niall all those years, it wasn’t that she hadn’t hoped that what they had had that summer could have been more than what it was at the time, or that they could have reconnected at some point, she had very much thought of all of that, many times over the course of her first year in college. But with four years passing since then, she was older, wiser, time had changed and so had she. Her biggest fear was that Niall hadn’t. And while that little piece of her hoped to cling onto that old Niall that set her world ablaze that one amazing summer, another part of her, a bigger part, hoped that he had also grown up and matured, that he had moved on from his womanizing ways. 

Maybe that hope was too big of a stretch. 

Cat arrived at the bar a little before their intended meet time and she wondered, as she stepped through the large baroque doors, how long she would be waiting there for him to show up. There was a hostess standing just off to the side behind a sleek black marble counter and she smiled as Cat bounced her stare around the incredibly posh looking space. “Welcome, do you have a reservation?” 

Cat looked over at the hostess, smiling politely as she walked towards where she was standing. “No, no reservation...um, I’m actually meeting someone...I’m not sure if they are here yet…”

“Niall Horan?” 

Wrinkling her brows slightly, Cat pulled her face in. “Yes, actually…” she chuckled. 

The young woman smiled. “Right this way.” 

Hugging the sweater she had brought with her to her chest, Cat followed the hostess through the swanky bar, weaving around high top tables and other equally as dressed up patrons before they came to a large booth tucked in the back corner. Her eyes met his the second the hostess stepped away, and Cat just stood there by the edge of the half-moon table, quiet and trying with all her might to stop the rattling in her chest. He was the only man that had ever made her feel that way with one single glance, even when she didn’t want it. Niall was slumped back in the booth, his suit jacket now off and folded next to him on the seat and his crisp white shirt unbuttoned even further, showing off that gorgeously dark smattering of chest hair and a simple gold chain, finished with a tiny round pendant hanging from it. Cat hadn’t noticed it before, but thought that it suited him well. 

She swallowed hard as her eyes flowed down the length of his arms, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms and that very expensive watch that was strapped to his wrist. Cat looked back up at his face. He smirked at her, his brow rising just enough beneath those few strands of dark hair that laid across his forehead that it made the air catch like glue in her throat. All she could do was smile. “Hey,” she said, barely over a whisper. 

“Hi,” Niall responded, nodding towards his left, instructing her to join him into the crescent shaped booth. She willingly obliged and slid herself in next to him. Not even meaning to, she pulled in a deep breath as their bodies moved closer, instinctually needing to smell him. She wasn’t disappointed. “You look incredible, Cat.” 

Tucking her face down in a slightly sheepish smile, the girl combed some hair behind her ear and plunked her elbow onto the table, peering over at him. “You didn’t change,” she mentioned.

Niall peeked down with a chuckle, using his fingers to pluck at the semi-opened button up adorning his upper half. “What, ya sayin’ I don’t look nice?”

“I didn’t say that,” Cat said, biting at her lip.

Tapping his fingers on the nearly empty glass that was wrapped in his one hand, Niall raised his brows. “Would ya like a drink?” 

“Yeah,” Cat replied with a slight inhale, sitting back in the booth, “beer’s fine.” 

“Oh, ya like beer, huh?”

She shrugged. “I’m a simple girl, doesn’t take much to impress me.” 

“Shit, coulda fooled me,” he scoffed with a short chuckle. Cat just stared at him, a tiny roll of her eyes caught by Niall and he smirked. “Beer it is then.” 

Niall ordered them both a couple beers, and then a few more. Over the next hour and a half, they immersed themselves in light conversation, keeping the subjects superficial and easy flowing. They talked about what they had accomplished in school and work, where they had been living, a little friendly banter mixed in between until the effects of the alcohol had started to create a bit of tempestuous buzz in their heads. It wasn’t long before the vibe had shifted, their body language and their small talk becoming more relaxed and comfortable. Cat felt like maybe Niall had changed more than she had assumed, he was very polite and engaging, super sweet and had yet to make any crude remark. 

Though the night was still young. 

“I guess, I should thank you for the job, by the way,” Cat stated, taking a sip of her beer. Her eyes were locked on Niall’s over the rim of the frosted glass. 

He was leaned back, his one arm slung behind Cat along the back edge of the booth and he casually smirked. “Why do ya say that?” 

Cat rolled her eyes. “I know it was you, Niall. I hadn't even gotten back to my car yet, by the time they called me and offered me the job.” 

Niall brought his pint to his mouth, tipping his head back as he took a long, quiet and very telling, sip. Licking the remnants off his lips, he set the glass back onto the wooden table, twirling it around in the wet ring of built up condensation. “That was all you, Cat, must’ve had a really good interview.”

“Right…”

He laughed. “Listen, you ain’t gettin’ nothin’ outta me.”

Cat bowed her head in a giggle, and swept her hair behind her ear as she looked over at him. “Fine,” she said softly, “but thank you, really. I’ve not had the easiest time, so...it does mean a lot to me.” 

Niall’s blue eyes fanned over her face and he gave her a sincere smile, one that she knew all too well, and nodded. “Guess that means we’re gonna be hangin’ out a lot more now,” he joked as he pulled in a deep breath. 

Cat rested back into the booth, folding her hands on top of her crossed legs. “Are we gonna be work buddies?” she asked him with a playful grin. Niall glanced down, noticing her dress had ridden up a tad on her thigh. She used her fingers to straighten the material, her stare never faltering off his face and he peeked back up at her. 

The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly, and Cat felt the faintest of tickle at the back of her neck, as if someone was very delicately playing with the ends of her hair. It caused a shiver to splay across her skin. “I’m not talkin’ ‘bout work buddies,” Niall finally said, his voice low and heavy in his throat, inducing a familiar clamping of Cat’s thighs at the sound. 

She inhaled sharp and lightly shook her head. “Mmm...I figured you weren’t.” 

“So…”

Slipping her gaze from his, Cat glanced at the half drank pint that rested in front of her. She watched the tiny bubbles glide up the side of the glass. Her tummy was flipping in on itself, her heartbeat picking up as each second passed and she breathed out a sigh, hoping to create some calm within the obnoxious chaos going on inside her. “Look, Niall, I know what you’re hinting at and I just, um,..I want you to know that-...” Cat paused and scraped her teeth across her bottom lip as she slowly brought her eyes back to his. “I, um...I have a boyfriend.” 

His brows furrowed, his hand reluctantly inching back from its close proximity to her shoulder. “You do?”

Cat nodded. “Yeah, he still lives back in Denver...but, yeah.” 

Shifting himself to face her, Niall tipped his head as he lifted his arm from behind Cat and rubbed across his bearded chin. “Well, it can’t be that serious,” he mumbled.

“Why do you say that?” she asked him with wrinkled brows.

“ ‘cause he’s in Denver and you’re here,” he explained with a shrug.

“I-,” Cat paused and shook her head, her lips falling to a part, “its long distance…” 

“It won’t work out.” 

She was the one to turn her body to face him this time, her brows pulling in even more. Cat hooked her arms across her chest in slight annoyance. “You don’t know that,” she spit out to him. 

Niall scoffed lightly, dropping his stare to his lap as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I do know that if you were my girl,” he began, catching her stare. His eyes looked dark, seedy in the low lights of the bar. “I would not be able to go more than one fuckin’ day without ya.” 

A heavy breath hilted in the back of her throat at his words, Cat staying quiet as Niall reached out and grabbed his pint from the table, taking a sip of his beer. Peering down, Cat slowly unfolded her arms from her chest and pressed her palms across her thighs. She chewed at a piece of dry skin from the edge of her lip before looking back up at Niall. “Maybe it won’t,” she admitted with a shrug of her shoulder, “but that’s where I’m at right now.” 

Niall shook his head, pulling a breath in between clenched teeth as he set his beer back down on the table. “It won’t. Trust me.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever. Enough about me. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Niall pushed out a snort. “No...I don’t.”

“And why not?” Cat asked him, shifting her eyes over his features. He was so handsome, it made her insides ache. His dark eyelashes, that perfect nose...his soft, pink lips. She wondered, for a single moment, what it would feel like to kiss him again. To have his mouth pressed to hers, swallowing his breath, tasting his tongue. Then she wondered what the hell was she thinking. 

Noticing her stare on his mouth, Niall tucked his lips in and cocked his head back. Her eyes landed on his once more. “Just don’t do serious relationships, ya know?”

“That sounds about right,” Cat muttered under her breath. “Can I ask you something, Niall?”

He lifted a brow in amusement. “Sure, petal, isn’t that what we’re doin’ here?”

“Yes, smart ass,” she replied sharply. Niall pushed out a laugh, taking another long sip of his beer. “Whatever happened with you and Sarah? You know the girl from camp? I mean, I’m only asking ‘cause I never went back and I’m...kinda curious.” 

Niall narrowed his eyes a bit and a smirk began to curl at the corner of his mouth. “Are ya askin’ me if I slept with her?”

She tilted her head. “In a less intrusive way, I guess...yeah.” 

With his hooded eyes darting over hers, Niall stayed quiet for a minute, almost as if he was trying to read what Cat was thinking. If only he could ever get a clear read on that girl. The one person he was never able to, and that frustrated him. She pulled in a shaky breath, moving her gaze away from his as it became almost too intimidating for her. “Do ya really wanna know?” he then asked her. 

She nodded and Niall straightened his body, leaning forward to rest his forearms across the edge of the table. His chin bumped at the peak of his shoulder as he looked back over at her. “I did end up fuckin’ her,” Niall went on, pausing to lick across his lips. “That next summer, actually.” 

Cat bit at her lip, a tiny pang settling in the pit of her stomach and she reached out to grab her beer, throwing back a big gulp. She didn’t like the way his words were making her feel. “I thought, um...I thought you didn’t like her.”

“I didn’t,” Niall spit out, lifting his shoulder, “but...you weren't there.” 

Shooting her stare back to his as she put her glass back down, she watched as a soft smile etched over his lips, nearly hidden behind the round of his shoulder. Cat cleared her throat. “I know,” she started, taking in a deep breath, “I really wanted to come back, I know I had told you the summer before I left that I would, but then I got this internship in Denver that I just couldn’t pass up, so I...just decided to stay–” 

His mouth turned down at the corners and he faintly shook his head. “It’s okay, Cat. I understand,” Niall told her, slumping back into the booth again. “It was my last summer there, and I dunno, I guess I got bored. She was shit, anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.” 

Cat’s eyes went big at his statement and she threw a hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh. Niall, on the other hand, freely belted out. The sound, still reminiscent of years before, made her laugh even harder. “I missed you that summer,” Niall then sighed out. 

“That’s surprising,” Cat chuckled. 

Niall wrinkled his brows. “Why’s that?” 

“Because I’m sure you had a swarm of girls all over you,” she explained, gesticulating as she spoke, “like you always do. Like I’m sure you still do.” 

He cocked his head back as his stare stayed on her. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t think about ya, Cat,” he said, lifting his shoulder in a shrug, “or that I didn’t miss ya.” 

Cat darted her eyes over his as an awkward quiet had settled between them. She really didn’t know what to say to that declaration of honesty coming from him, so she just picked her pint up off the table and silently guzzled back the rest of her beer. “You want another?” Niall asked her, pointing to her empty glass as she wiped across her lips. She glanced at it before looking back over at him, a smirk forming on his mouth. “Or should we just go back to my place…”

Cat chuckled as she set her glass down. “Nice.” 

“What?” he laughed. 

“I’m not going home with you.” 

Shifting his body closer, Niall inched his face in right up next to hers, her heart surging as she felt the heat of his breath on her jaw. She struggled with wanting to move away, with not wanting to move away, with letting her eyes flutter closed as the warmth of his entire body started to encapsulate every inch of her exposed skin as he ever-so-softly let the tip of his nose brush over her ear. “Are ya sure about that, love?” 

It was the slickest, naughtiest, grittiest tone of whisper that she had ever heard and it took every part of her to not jump in his lap at that very second. But she knew she couldn’t. Cat forced herself to laugh at his attempt and Niall eased back, a cocky smirk still plastered across his face. “Niall, as hard as you’re gonna try,” she told him, raising her brows to assert herself, “I’m not going to sleep with you.”

Plopping back into the seat in a defeated huff, Niall rubbed his palm over the front of his face. “Fuck...well, that ruins all me plans,” he joked as they both laughed. “How ‘bout I just take you home then?” he went on, catching her stare going wide as she peered over at him. He pinched his eyes shut in a snort upon realizing what he had said. “No-...to your home. Jesus…” 

Smiling at him, she softly giggled and nodded her head. “Yeah...that’d be nice, thanks.”

•

They had been sitting in his Audi, parked outside her house, chatting for a good five minutes. She glanced out of the passenger side window and glared slightly upon seeing the movement of a curtain in one of the living room windows. Clearing her throat, she shifted her attention back to Niall. “Thank you again for the ride,” she said to him, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Saved me from having to take the bus home at 11:30 at night.” 

“Of course, anytime,” he said, tipping his head over to the side as he slid his eyes down her body. He had been checking her out all night, Niall never being one to be shy about the fact, he knew and she knew, but he couldn’t help himself when it came to Cat. Licking over his lips, his stare slowly drifted over the suppleness of her exposed cleavage, his mind wandering back to the vivid memory of how her skin had tasted on his tongue. He swallowed hard as he shot his eyes back up to hers. “Cat, can I kiss you?” 

Cat’s fingers paused on the door handle, and she turned to look over at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised you're asking,” she chortled. 

Niall leaned his head back on the headrest, his hooded eyes narrowing slightly as he smirked. “Well, ya do have a boyfriend…”

She pushed out a chuckle. “So, the only reason you're asking to kiss me, is because I have a boyfriend?”

He flicked his brow and she rolled her eyes, gathering her sweater and small bag as she opened the car door. “You’ve really not changed a bit,” she finished. 

“So that’s a no?” 

Stepping out of the car, Cat spun around and bent over, catching his stare. “That’s a goodnight, Niall.” 

He smiled and nodded his head. “Guess, I’ll see ya at work on Monday, then.” 

“Guess you will,” she said with a soft smile, “but no special treatment, okay?” 

His mouth turned down as he lifted his head from the seat. “Can’t promise ya that,” he said, running the tip of his tongue across his lips. His eyes were darting heavily with hers, and Cat could have sworn she felt a drunken buzz quickly submerse her head. She felt dizzy every time he looked at her like that, with that intensity that only he knew how to do. She sucked in a shaky breath, attempting to settle herself. 

“Behave yourself, Niall.”

Quirking a brow, he gave her a low, thigh-clenching chuckle as he slipped his car into drive. “Sweet dreams, kitty cat.” 

Cat rolled her eyes, trying to bite away at the smile on her lips as she closed the passenger door and waved as he drove off. She watched the tail lights of his car disappear around the corner, before she let out a long, melodramatic sigh. Her mind was reeling with memories of him, how he talked to her, how he touched her, her body on fire even just being near him, but there was no way she was gonna let him in. Not again. 

Making her way into her house, Cat quietly shut the front door and looked up to see her little sister in the living room, hanging over the back of the couch as she curiously peered out of the large window. “Trina, what are you doing?” Cat asked, placing her hands on her hips. 

“Who was that?” Katrina questioned, hoping up off the couch and bounding over towards her older sister. 

Cat pulled in a breath, knowing her little sister was always the inquisitive one. And relentless about it too. “Just an old friend,” she told her, “someone I used to know a few years back.” 

Trina folded her arms over her chest. “He’s got a nice car.” 

Rolling her eyes, Cat let out a laugh and reached out to teasingly ruffle Trina’s head. “Go to bed, child,” she muttered as she walked away.

“Hey!” the young girl huffed loudly in protest, smoothing her hair back down as she watched Cat sneak her way upstairs to her bedroom. “I’m not a child!”

•

Monday came a bit quicker than Cat had hoped, and while she was eager to get back to a steady job, she was also nervous about how her first day was going to go. It was always a bit difficult for her to make friends; she was reserved but head-strong, opinionated when it mattered and learned very fast to not take anyone’s bullshit. All of those qualities sometimes made her more of a loner than an approachable person. But she was willing to try her best to be more personable, hopefully make a few acquaintances as well. 

One person she knew she’d have no trouble winning over was Niall. And that was a whole other ballgame. 

By late morning, Cat had settled in nicely to her work environment. She had her own desk and computer, a little space of her own within the huge, monochromatic space of the office located on the 23rd floor. Her co-workers, at least the ones in the cubicles surrounding her, were all very nice and had already offered to take her out to lunch as a welcome. Cat happily accepted, choosing to leave the lunch she had brought with her in the break room refrigerator for another day. 

Even though Cat knew Niall’s office was actually on the next floor up, she wasn’t really surprised to see him strutting around her floor a few times already that morning. He hadn’t come up to her yet, Cat supposed he was heeding her words about not showing her any special treatment, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t caught his eye a few times as she peered over and saw him propped up against a cubicle wall, flirting away with a few of the ladies throughout the office. He was very charismatic, and annoyingly sexy, using his charms and his wit to entice as many sweet giggles and subtle arm touches as he could get. 

Maybe that was his plan, to flaunt himself in front of Cat, showing her just how desirable he was, how easily he could get any woman he wanted. As if she didn’t already know that, or expect it. Niall would be leaned down, whispering sweet nothings in their ears with high pitched giggles spilling from their mouths as his blue eyes stuck right on Cat. She’d shake her head in a chuckle and focus back on her work, but the gears were grinding hard in her head. She wondered, just out of pure curiosity, how many of the women in the office he actually had bedded. And how many of them had felt what she felt when with him. She sucked in a deep breath, mad at herself for even entertaining the thought, because what did it matter to her? It didn’t and it shouldn’t. 

Later that afternoon, waist deep in a coding error she was attempting to fix, a notification popped up on Cat’s computer that she had received an email. It was from Niall. She peeked around the short walls of her cubicle, wary of prying eyes before opening it. 

            Cat, 

  Please come see me in my office. 

   Niall Horan

   CEO

   Stomon Tech Limited

Her heart thumped loud in her chest as she read over it a few more times, just that one single sentence causing a frenzy inside her and she figured since he was her boss, there was no getting out of it. Maybe that was another one of his plans. 

She smiled at the thought–it was textbook Niall–as she stepped off the elevator and onto the 24th floor. The blonde at the desk nodded her through and she made her way down the hallway, following it straight to his unnecessarily large office. The walls were all constructed of the same thick glass as the rest of the office, his door as well and she could clearly see Niall sitting at his sleek jet black desk, jotting something down as she reached out and gently knocked. 

His eyes raised from the papers before him to see Cat standing outside his office door. Niall pulled in a deep breath and stood up, promptly waving her in. “Hello, Cat,” he greeted her as she stepped through the door and closed it. Niall held his hand out to one of the chairs that were lined up in front of his desk and she walked over, smiling at him as she sat down. 

“Hey, Niall.”

Her eyes stayed glued to him as he stepped around his desk and stood in front of her, casually slipping his hands into his pants pockets. Cat bit at her lip, realizing he was finally close enough for her to get a good whiff of his expensive cologne and she tried to hide the fact that it was nearly intoxicating. On top of that, he had on a perfectly fitted deep blue suit, that hugged his broad shoulders and slim waist like it was a second skin. And with his dark hair, soft and swept to the side and just a hint of a scruffy beard, he looked like a dream. She hated that she couldn’t get those irritating thoughts out of her mind. 

She shakily cleared her throat and watched as he tipped his head slightly. “Just wanted to see how your first day’s been goin’,” he said, peering down at her. Niall couldn't take his eyes off of her. Off of the low cut blouse she was wearing, off the soft curl of her hair that was brushing at her shoulder, off the tiny bit of flesh showing at her thigh where her legs were crossed. She shifted slightly in her chair from the burning heat of his gaze, and it caused her skirt to ride up just a bit more. Niall’s breath caught in his throat. It was like she was tempting him, even if she didn’t know it. 

“It’s been nice,” she told him, fully aware that his stare was sliding over her lap where her skirt had ridden up and then over her breasts before finally settling on her face. She smirked. Maybe she did like flirting with him. Just a little bit. “Went out to lunch with a few coworkers. But really all I was wondering about is when you were gonna come over and say hi to me.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, raising a brow. 

“I mean, you were talking to everyone else…” 

Niall chuckled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His chin tipped down slightly as he kept his stare on hers. “Were you jealous?”

“No,” Cat responded, shaking her head. “I have no reason to be, I have a boyfriend, remember?”

“Ah, yes the boyfriend,” Niall said, licking across his lips as he reached up and ran a hand through the side of his hair, “I forgot about him.” 

“I bet you did,” Cat scoffed. 

“I wanna take ya out, Cat,” Niall then said, “on a date.” 

She breathed out a smile. “I can’t do that, Niall.” His eyes were darting over hers, as if he was trying to lure her in, pull her into his little trap just as he had done before. That reckless, all-consuming arousing stare, the one that shook her to the core, that literally brought her to her knees. The one that she would fall asleep thinking about almost every night. And that was all she could think about. Him. How he had made her feel, how they felt together. How he had turned her world upside down that one unforgettable summer night, and she never thought she would ever see him again. And now all she was trying to do was fight it. Fight that feeling of wanting him. She had to fight it. She had to.

“And why can’t ya?” 

Cat sucked in a sharp breath, tilting her head to her shoulder. “Well, let’s see, for one, the whole boyfriend thing and for two,” she paused, scraping her teeth over her bottom lip. Niall watched the tip of her tongue roll out across the pink-bitten skin of her lip and he swallowed hard. “...I don’t think that would look very good. I just started here and, well, ya know, favoritism and all.” 

“But ya are me favorite,” Niall bluntly stated with a smirk, quirking up his brow. 

Cat bowed her head in a bashful grin, bringing her fingers up to her lips. He really knew how to work her, that was for sure. “Okay, but I’m not trying to make enemies the first week I’m working here,” she explained, glancing back up at him, “if I went out with you, I don’t think the other ladies in the office would like me very much.” 

Niall furrowed his brow slightly and crossed his ankles as he rested his bum on the edge of his desk. “How so?”

“Niall, I’ve been here barely one day and have already heard them gossiping in the break room,” she told him, raising her brows. “And they all very much want to fuck you.” 

A loud laugh belted out past his lips, and he tipped his face down, hiding his pinched eyes behind his hand. “They’ve heard the rumors then,” he muttered between chuckles.

Cat’s brows twisted up. “What rumors are those?”

He brought his stare back to hers, slowly running his tongue over his lips. “You know first hand what those rumors are, kitty cat.” 

She could hardly breathe with his eyes on her like that, with his words floating in her head and she gently cleared her throat. “Yeah...well...they don’t know that,” she squeaked out. 

He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve not told ‘em?”

“Niall, I barely know these people,” she spit out, “why would I tell them that we slept together one time four years ago?”

Stepping towards her, Niall curled his hands around the arms of the chair and leaned down, his face sitting flush with hers. Cat kept her eyes fixed on his, her mouth falling to a faint part as his warm breath seeped over her lips. He was so close she could almost taste him on her tongue and her eyes fluttered just from the thought. A few strands of his dark hair had fallen over his eyes, and Cat’s lungs were struggling to find air as a delicious smirk slid over his mouth. “ ‘cause, baby, the way I fuck is life changin’.”

His comment made Cat gasp, before she realized his obvious intentions with the remark and she breathed out a soft giggle instead, rolling her eyes. “You’re insane,” she mumbled, Niall chuckling at her response. He leaned up and stepped away, clearing his throat as he shuffled back behind his desk. Cat watched him for a moment, never having been around someone as bluntly cocky and intriguing as Niall, and she bit at her lip as he picked up a portfolio and began flipping through some pages. “How many of those girls have you actually slept with anyway?” she asked. 

Niall’s fingers stalled on the papers and he peered at her through the tops of his hooded eyes. “What, the girls who work for me?”

“Yeah…”

“None actually.” Her stare went wide at his answer, obviously surprised by it and he pinched an eye shut. “Don’t wanna mix business and pleasure and all that, you know…”

Cat tipped her face down in a laugh. “Right,” she said, glancing back up at him, “Niall, the forever chivalrous gentleman.”

Niall snorted out a laugh and dropped the portfolio back down on his desk. He glanced over her head before catching her stare again. “Reckon ya better get back to work now, Ms. Williams, or you’ll be havin’ lots of gossip to answer to in the break room the next time you’re there.” 

Her brows wrinkled. “Huh?”

Faintly nodding towards the glass wall behind her, Cat turned around in the chair to see a few nosy busy-bodies with their full attention planted on the two of them. She was bound to be the talk of the office break room after that. Cat huffed out a laugh as she looked back over at Niall, giving him a grin. Niall watched as she stood up from her seat and smoothed down her skirt. “We’ll chat later,” he told her.

She nodded, biting off her smile as she began to step away. “Have a good rest of your day, Mr. Horan.” 

He shot her a wink. “You too, Cat.” 

•

The next two weeks were surprisingly calm. Cat had settled nicely into work, and with her colleagues, better than she was expecting, and her interactions with Niall seemed to be more on the friendly side than him trying to flirt his way into her pants. To be honest, that confused her a bit. But she was always left confused and thrown off balance when it came to Niall. She had a hard time denying how much she wanted him, how he made her feel just by looking at her, but also knew that it would be disastrous if it ever happened again. She had to remain logical at all times around him, because God knows, he was extremely tempting and she had to fight within herself to not lose all sense of control. 

He had called her a couple times, again, just friendly conversation and light banter, but other than that, Cat really hadn’t seen too much of him at work. She was aware of a huge project deadline coming up, Niall telling her of the copious amounts of boring meetings he had been partaking in and even flying out to NYC for two days on business. She thought it was oddly sweet that he was keeping her in the loop, so to speak, of his schedule and his life, and they would often find themselves texting each other well into the night, just to say goodnight. 

Cat thought it was lovely that she could have real, thoughtful and intellectual conversations with him, because up until that point, even during the summer they had met, it had only been focused on one thing: sex. Not that she minded much. A man like him wanting a woman like her, it was flattering and it made her feel good, she definitely wasn’t going to deny that. She was just happy that her and Niall had moved into a more comfortable level in their growing friendship. Cat was happy to have him as her friend. 

It was an early Saturday afternoon, Cat was at home with her family, her mother and sister in the kitchen unpacking groceries that they had just picked up for the evening. Cat was in her bedroom finishing her laundry, and had just put away some of her folded t-shirts when her cell phone rang. Bumping the dresser drawer closed with her hip, she shuffled her bare feet over to her nightstand to grab her phone, checking the name that was highlighted across the screen. Niall. 

She breathed out a smile and answered, tucking the phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she walked over to her closet and pulled out a few hangers. “Hey, you,” she greeted him as she made her way back towards her bed to hang up some of her dresses and pantsuits. 

“Hey, kitty cat, what ya doin’?”

She giggled. “Just some laundry,” she told him, “what are you doing?” 

“Uh, layin’ in me bed,” he told her, Cat noticing a softness in his voice. “Naked. Thinkin’ ‘bout you.” 

Cat rolled her eyes in a snort. “So...just a normal day then, huh?” 

A deep laugh rumbled from his end of the line. “I was wonderin’ if maybe ya wanna go out with me tonight?” he then asked, pausing for a moment to clear his throat before he continued. “Just as friends. Been so busy with work lately, we haven’t hung out and I miss seein’ ya.” 

Cat bit at her bottom lip, her cheeks running warm as she stepped back over to her closet to hook her clothes up on the rack. “I don’t know, Niall,” she hummed out, darting her stare around her room and realizing she had left her water bottle downstairs. “My mom has this whole family dinner thing planned for my Dad’s birthday tonight and it would be kinda rude for me to just bail.”

Bouncing down the stairs and into the kitchen where her mother and sister were still putting groceries away, she held the phone to her ear and snatched her water bottle off of the counter just as Katrina had opened the cupboard above her head. Trina shot her a look, and Cat stuck her tongue out at her. “Hmm...okay, well, maybe tomorrow then? Are ya free?” 

“I should be,” Cat huffed out as she refilled her bottle, her eyes studying the clear stream of water filtering into the metal flask, “what did you wanna do, anyway?” 

Niall had started to mumble something, when Cat’s mom looked over at her. “Who’s that?” she nosily asked. 

“It's that guy with the really nice car, isn’t it?” Trina interjected.

Cat’s eyes went big at her little sister as Niall continued to talk into her ear, and she set the water bottle down and smushed her hand over the bottom of the phone. “Shh!” she snapped back, shifting her eyes from her sister to her mom. “Just...a friend.” 

“Who?” 

A distinguishable quiet had settled on the end of the line before the young woman heard a faint ‘Cat?’ in a low, husky voice. She held up her finger to her mom and put her attention back to Niall. “Yeah, I’m here, sorry my mom was saying something to me. Can you hold for, like, one second?” 

“Yeah, sure.”

Blocking the end of her phone again with her palm, she playfully glared over at Trina before pushing out a sigh. “Just this guy, Niall. I met him a few years ago before I left for college and, weirdly enough, he's now my boss.” 

Trina rounded her lips. “Oooh.” 

“Your boss?” her mother repeated, opening the fridge to set a gallon of milk inside. “Well, Cat, you should invite him over for dinner tonight!” 

“Mom, it’s Dad’s birthday,” she questioned, wrinkling her brow, “And I thought it was just ‘family’ anyway...” 

The older woman waved off her daughter with a huff, turning to gather up the reusable shopping bags from the countertop. “Please, you know your father would love to meet your boss, Cat, birthday or not. And he's your friend. Invite him over.” 

Cat’s heartbeat picked up in her chest, so much so that it was like a heavy bass drum in the back of her ears steadily getting louder as her palms started to sweat. It was obnoxious. She curled her fingers tighter around her phone as she silently shot her stare between her mom and her sister, who had a very smug grin plastered over her lips. “....alright,” she gingerly sighed out, bringing her phone back up to her ear. “Niall?” 

“Yup?”

“Hey, so, um…” Cat paused, bowing her head down and anxiously scratching across the skin of her forehead, “weird question, I guess, but would you, maybe...like to come over to my house for dinner tonight?” 

“With your family?” 

“Yeah.” 

Scraping her teeth over her bottom lip, two sets of curious eyes were glued to her, waiting in as much anticipation as Cat was for Niall’s answer. She heard a short chuckle bleed into her ear before Niall pulled in a deep breath. “Sure, I’d love to.” 

•

Niall was standing on her front stoop, knocking at her door only a mere few hours later. Not really sure why she felt so nervous, her belly tying into knots as she had been getting ready and her heart thumping along with the ticking of the clock as it counted down to when he was supposed to arrive. But the second she opened the door, the second his stunning ocean blue eyes met hers, it all faded away. He looked gorgeous, as he always did; a fitted pressed dark pair of trousers topped with a silky patterned button up short sleeve shirt, it was undone slightly at the top, just enough to showcase that gold necklace that hung around his neck. Niall smiled at Cat as she invited him in. 

His eyes danced over her body as he stepped through the door, seeing her in a pair of tight jeans and slightly fitted top, she hadn’t dressed sexy, it was her Dad’s birthday after all, but Niall thought she looked amazing. He liked seeing her in a more casual look, different then how he had seen her at work. He noticed right away that her hair, usually down and sitting just below her shoulders, was pulled back into a high ponytail and for a moment, he was transported back to summer camp. Back to that first time that he saw her. Standing amongst the other counselors, listening to the director spout out the camp rules and whatnot, but even then, Niall’s full attention was on Cat. She looked absolutely beautiful, just like every time he had laid eyes on her since. 

Smiling back at him, her parents had made their way into the small foyer, eager to meet the mystery boss-friend with the super nice car. Cat introduced him, Niall having brought her father a bottle of extremely expensive Irish whiskey as a gift, and she stood off to the side as he engaged her parents in polite small talk. He was very impressive to watch–Cat finding herself sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as he freely chatted and laughed along with her parents. His charisma even snagged her old, rigid dad and his cheekiness made her mother blush a shade of pink Cat had rarely seen. 

“And this is my sister, Katrina,” she said to Niall, pointing at her little sister who had just emerged from the living room as her parents made their way back into the kitchen to finish up dinner. 

The young girl popped her gum in her mouth as she gave Niall an apathetic wave. “Everyone calls me Trina.” 

“Nice to meet ya, Trina,” Niall greeted her with a nod. 

Perching her hands on her hips, Trina narrowed her eyes as she looked over at Niall. Her stare slid down his frame and then back up before she tipped her chin in a smile. “You’re smokin’ hot.” 

“Trina! Jesus,” Cat snipped, furrowing her brows as Niall chuckled. She grabbed around Niall’s bicep and he moved his attention to her. “I’m sorry, she’s just–”

“Spitting facts?” Trina raised her brows. 

Cat glared at her sister and before she could respond with a growling rebuff, their mother called out from the kitchen. “Trina, behave yourself!” Rolling her eyes in a displeased huff, the teenager spun around on her socked heels and slumped back into the living room without another word. 

Niall licked across his lips, fighting off his inevitable snickering as he looked over at Cat. “She’s cute,” he told her, quirking a brow.

“She’s fifteen,” Cat shot back. 

“I can tell,” he snorted, “she’s still funny, though.” 

“You’re only saying that because she said you were hot.” 

“Uh, smokin’ hot,” Niall corrected, cocking his head to the side. “Would’ve rather you been the one sayin’ it though...”

Cat giggled. “Keep dreaming, Niall.” 

“Ya just keep breakin’ me heart, Cat,” Niall mumbled out, dramatically slapping a hand to his chest. “Jesus…”

Her eyes pinched shut in a laugh before she reached out and grabbed Niall’s hand. “C’mon,” she said, pulling him after her, “I’ll show you around a bit.”

After leading him through the downstairs area, Cat took Niall upstairs and into her bedroom. She didn’t really think much of it when he was trailing behind her up the stairs, their hands still loosely entangled with the heat of his skin melting into hers. It felt natural to her, so much so that she had forgotten that she was even holding his hand that whole time until they stepped into her room. “So, this is it,” Cat said, her fingers slowly sliding from his as he brushed past her and further into her bedroom. 

Niall stood near the side of her bed with his hands hooked on his hips, his stare floating across the small bedroom; from the posters still hung up on her walls to the shelves of academic trophies and awards she had acquired throughout school. Cat crossed her arms over her chest, gnawing on her lip as she kept her eyes glued to him. He had faced himself away from her, studying some old pictures of Cat and her friends from high school that were pinned up on her wall, and she let her gaze drag down the length of his frame. His shoulders were wide under the thin material of his shirt, his back broad, a lot broader than she had remembered, and his waist slim, but it was the deliciously supple curve of his ass that forced Cat to draw in a jittery breath. He had such a nice body, toned but soft in all the right places and her eyes fluttered as the memories of how he felt on top of her, pushing himself inside her, came rushing like an unstoppable flood back into her head. 

Her eyelids were pressed closed, enjoying her dirty thoughts, when Niall had unknowingly turned around to get her attention. He smiled to himself upon seeing how pretty Cat looked with her head tipped to the side and her bottom lip sucked into her mouth. He cleared his throat and her eyes popped open, met with a cocky grin. She froze. “This looks familiar…” he said to her, his brows raising as he held up a grey snapback that had been slung over the front bedpost of her bed. 

She smiled at him. “It should. You gave it to me.” 

Niall flicked the hat in his hand as he peered down at it, the very tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. “I know, I remember,” he mumbled, wiggling the hat down on his head. Her stare went glassy, widening slightly as she peered over at him, struck with how much he looked like he used to once that hat was back on him and she struggled to find a solid breath. The corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk. “Bring back any memories?” 

It did. But she wasn’t about to tell him that. 

Dropping her hands at her sides, Cat slowly stepped around the end of her bed and came up flush to him. His hooded gaze was fixated on her, holding tight to every movement, as she leaned herself in close to him, so close that Niall could feel the tiny wisps of her hot breath against the front of his neck. It made his stomach twist. His mouth parted slightly as she rose to her tiptoes, his blue eyes darting wild over hers and there was a hint of a devilish smirk pulling at her lips as she inched closer and closer, her warm body practically on top of his. 

And as quick as Cat had pressed flush to him, she just as quickly reached up and snatched the hat off of Niall’s head. She leaned past him slightly as she flung the hat back onto the bedpost where it belonged. “It’s still mine,” she claimed, raising her brow. 

His stare hadn’t left hers, it couldn’t even if he had wanted it to and Niall turned his mouth down at her, fully impressed that he had fallen for that little game she had just played. She grinned at him, pleased with herself and it made Niall’s chest ache with how cute she looked. “It’s still yours,” he assured softly, giving her one single nod. 

Cat tilted her face down, hiding the flush that had invaded her cheeks as Niall moved his eyes beside her. “So this is where you sleep?” he asked, pointing to the bed.

“Well, that sounds creepy,” she mentioned with a giggle. 

Niall laughed. “Just tryin’ to get a feel for the place.” 

“Oh, right,” she scoffed, plopping her bottom down on the side of the bed. “Yup, this is my bed. Same one since I was, like...twelve.” 

Sitting himself down next to her, Niall carded his hand through his hair as he turned his head to catch her stare. “Should I be jealous?” 

“Of what?” Cat asked, wrinkling her brows.

Niall peeked over his shoulder at her yellow daisy printed comforter. “All the people that have gotten to sleep with you in this very spot.” 

Cat rolled her eyes before meeting his stare again. “Niall, we’ve had sex before so, no, you shouldn’t be jealous and to be honest, besides that, there’s nothing to be jealous of…” 

His brows pulled in. “You tellin’ me you’ve never had sex in this bed?” 

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” she huffed, glancing down at her lap. “I’ve never even had a boy in this room before.” 

Niall clicked his tongue in his mouth. “So I’m your first…”

“Weird way of putting it,” Cat replied with a soft giggle, peering over at him, “but yes.” 

Leaning in towards her, the air stifled in the back of Cat’s throat as she felt his hot, silky breath spill over the slope of her neck. It made her eyes flutter, and she fought back a whimper when the tip of his nose just barely brushed along her jaw. His large palm was resting at her lower back, ever so faintly and she swallowed hard and stayed still, not daring to move an inch as Niall hungrily licked across his lips. “We can add another first to the list if ya want…” 

Slowly turning her head to look over at him, she caught his hooded stare. She struggled to find her words. “Are you, um…are you propositioning me, Mr. Horan?” Cat whispered, darting her eyes with his. Her chest was rising high with her quick, unruly breaths, her fingers curling into the thick blanket on both sides of her knees. Niall lifted his shoulder in a shrug, his brow quirking up. The darkness in his eyes was filling Cat’s belly with a fire that was proving hard to fight off, and she scraped her teeth across her bottom lip. “With my parents right downstairs?”

“Makes it even hotter,” he confidently said with a wink.

Cat let out a groan and playfully pushed him away with a nudge of her shoulder. “You’re filthy,” she told him, shaking her head as she stood up. 

Niall belted out a laugh, looking up at her. “Mmm, well, we both know that’s how ya like it.”  

With her eyes going big, her pouty lips fell to a part and Niall smirked proudly at her reaction. All she could do was let the dizziness fill her head, flustered every time he even so much as caught her stare as Niall reached out and gently grabbed her hand. Her knees wanted to crumble beneath her, her body wanting to let go as his thumb rubbed tiny circles over her skin. She slowly lifted her gaze back to his, her breaths stunted in her lungs, just as her father called them down to dinner. 

Cat squeezed her eyes closed for a split second as Niall stood up right in front of her. His intoxicating scent filled her nose and she let her gaze drift up from his chest to his blue eyes. “Saved by the bell, huh, kitty cat?” 

Pressing her lips in a line, she tipped her chin up, determined to not let him get the best of her. “It’s not like I was considering it.” 

A smug smirk tugged at the edge of Niall’s lips and he lightly placed his hand to Cat’s waist, his fingertips pushing in slightly. “Oh, baby, you were definitely considerin’ it,” he whispered, his voice low and rough in his throat. A pulsing heat coursed through her entire body, from her head to her toes, itching over her skin and pooling between her thighs. Licking across his lips, Niall quirked his brow as he quietly stepped away, slowly letting his fingertips drag down the curve of her hip. 

Watching as he sauntered out of her bedroom, Cat pushed out a heavy, choppy breath and reached up to rub across her dampened forehead. She didn’t even realize she had started to sweat, just from that short interaction and she swallowed hard before shaking her head and following him out of the room. 

She hated that he could still, without question, cause that kind of reaction in her.

•

After an uneventful, yet really good dinner followed by some delicious homemade birthday cake, Cat and Niall found themselves sitting out on the steps of her small front stoop. The sun had long set, just the street lamps casting a yellow glow along the road and the porch light shining onto their backs. Niall had his arms resting on his bent knees, sipping on a bottle of beer that Cat’s father had graciously offered him. Peering over at him, her eyes trailed the long slope of his throat as he tipped his head back to take a gulp. She pulled in a deep breath, hugging her arms tighter around her middle. 

“So,” she began, shifting her eyes back out into the dark of the street, “is owning a tech company something you always wanted to do?” 

Niall had just finished another sip of his beer and he chuckled as he licked his lips. “No, not really,” he admitted. “I mean, I knew I was gonna own a company one day, my dad owned a company, and I don’t have a business degree for nothin’, but...tech wasn’t really somethin’ I was ever super into, ya know?” He shrugged. “It is what it is, I guess.” 

Cat peeked over at him, resting her chin on the round of her shoulder. “So it was…easy for you.”

“An easy choice?” he repeated, catching her stare. “Yeah, I had the money, I had the resources.” 

Cat chuckled under her breath, shaking her head as she drifted her eyes along the chain link fence that enclosed her tiny front yard. “What?” Niall asked. 

“Nothing,” she replied, “just...crazy how shit always comes so easy for you. Wish I had a little bit of that.” 

“Shit doesn’t always come easy for me,” Niall scoffed.

Rolling her stare over to him, Cat snorted. “Oh yeah? Like what?” 

Niall licked over his lips. “You.” 

“Me?” she huffed, wrinkling her brow, “you never had to try hard in that department, Niall.” 

With his mouth falling to a part, Niall pushed out a low huff. “Are ya kiddin’ me? I’ve never had to work so hard for a second go in me life.” 

Cat groaned and reached out, snatching the beer bottle from his hands and promptly taking a sip. “You deserve a challenge once in a while.” 

Niall chuckled and leaned towards her, his eyes stuck on hers. “If you think for one second that I’m not up for it, baby, you’re bloody fuckin’ wrong…” 

Her heart nearly skipped a solid beat as she pushed out a soft chuckle. “Charming.” 

Niall threw his head back in a laugh before hoisting himself up. He turned around and stood in front of her at the bottom of the steps. Cat bit at her lip as she looked up at him, noticing a smirk pulling at his mouth as he leaned on the handrail. “I wanna take ya somewhere,” he then blurted out. 

“Like...now?” 

“No, this weekend,” Niall chuckled. 

Cat dropped her gaze to the ground under his feet and swallowed hard. “ Where do you wanna take me?” she asked, glancing back up at him. 

“I’m not tellin’ ya,” he said, raising his brows, “it’s part of the surprise. It won’t be for the whole weekend, just Saturday. It’s not too long of a drive.” 

Narrowing her eyes at him, Cat took another sip of the beer and tucked her lips into her mouth. She stayed quiet, studying his features as he turned his face slightly and peered down at her through the corners of his eyes. Niall wasn’t sure what she was thinking, or what her answer was going to be, but he was hopeful. “What do’ya say?” 

Pulling in a deep breath, Cat set the empty beer bottle down next to her. “Do I have a choice?” 

“Baby, you always have a choice,” he replied, cocking his head back slightly. 

Cat dipped her head down in a smile. “Okay, fine,” she said as she looked back at him, “but we're only going as friends. Nothing is gonna happen.” 

“Of course,” he smirked, “would ya expect anythin’ less of me, kitty cat?” 

Her brows raised. ��Do you really want me to answer that?” Niall pointed a finger at her. “No.” He watched as Cat’s head softly rolled back to her shoulders in a laugh, her eyes squeezing shut and he couldn’t help but smile as the pretty sound slipped past her lips. She was perfect. “Alright then,” Niall went on as Cat caught her breath, “I’m gonna head out, but, um...thanks for havin’ me over. It was lovely. I had fun spendin’ time with you.” 

Cat chewed at her bottom lip as she darted her eyes over his, hugging her arms around her middle once again. “Yeah, it was...surprisingly nice. I really enjoyed it. Thanks for coming.” 

Fishing his car keys out of his front pocket, a tiny breath hitched in Cat’s chest as Niall leaned down and pushed a tender kiss to her cheek. “Sweet dreams, petal,” he whispered, the warmth of his lips lingering on her skin. It was one of the sweetest, softest moments she had ever experienced. And it was coming from Niall. 

Her eyes fluttered open when he stepped back, a smile on his face as he spun around and made his way to his car. Cat watched with a dreamy haze in her eyes, curiosity bounding to her fingertips and an ache befalling her chest as he hopped in his car and drove off. She sat on that top step of her stoop, head cupped in her hands and a million thoughts pouring through her mind for what seemed like ages. 

What was she getting herself into? And more importantly...after all these years, why did she still want him so bad?

•

It was hard for Cat not to think about Niall over the following week, the nonstop, and frankly, obscene cataclysm he created inside her and how confused it made her feel. It was also hard for Cat to hide how excited she was for whatever Niall had planned for that weekend. She tried telling herself that it meant nothing, he was just doing what Niall did and did well; seduce and concur and that it would be no different this time around, but the thoughts of how much she wanted to be with him, wanted to feel him, wanted to kiss him and touch him and taste him again, how much she wanted to just be with him, kept creeping into the back of her mind. 

Part of her, an incredibly hard to ignore part, didn’t care that Niall was a self-proclaimed womanizer, at least to her knowledge, and all she wanted was to have him. To let herself feel what she had always felt for him, without hesitation or worry, without a second thought. To let him care about her…love her. She knew without a doubt that Niall would treat her well, that he would be good to her, but there was always that inkling of what if. What if she let herself give into him again and he didn’t want anything more than that. What if she succumbed to those physical primal needs that itched across her skin every time he was near, and that indescribable longing in her heart she couldn’t hide from and it turned out that he didn’t feel that same way about her. What if she fell for him, really fell for him, and in the end...he didn’t want her anymore. 

That was what Cat couldn’t shake from her mind. The fear of him not feeling for her the way she knew, deep down, she really felt for him. 

Niall picked her up at her house around 3 that Saturday afternoon. Cat was beside herself; she was nervous, but excited, giddy like a teenager going out on her first date, and if anyone would have asked her why she was feeling all of those things, she really could not have given them a straight answer. Apart from the fact that it was mainly because of Niall. Being around him made her feel exuberant and alive, he made her feel sexy and alluring. He made her feel important and wanted. He made her feel 18 all over again, but more mature, more in control. And as hard as he tried, as much as he used his charms and his flirtatious ways on her, it was clear that she was the one in control this time. She was the one who was holding him like putty in her hand. And that simple fact made her feel more powerful than she had ever felt before. 

He refused to discuss where they were headed as they drove, just telling her that it wasn’t very far away, but Cat was more than eager to find out what the big surprise was. She had worried for a moment while getting ready that she was overdressed, a light breezy yellow sundress and pair of low open-toed sandals, but Niall immediately complimented her outfit as he met her at her front door and that quickly reassured her. He was also dressed quite freely with a linen short sleeve button down and a pair of fitted twill trousers, Cat smiling as she looked him over, making sure to tell him that he looked nice as well. 

The late afternoon sun was bright, strings of gold streaming in through the car windows and Cat peered over at Niall as he sat buckled in the driver's seat. Her eyes tenderly fawned down his profile, engrossed in the perfectly sharp slope of his nose and the tiny pout of his lips. His beard was grown in heavy, his dark brown hair styled softly and over to the side, and she couldn’t see his eyes underneath his sunglasses but she knew they were just as blue, just as gorgeous and dreamy as they had always been. The thought made her smile and without thinking, she reached over and gently ran her fingers through the side swept part of his hair, right over his ear. 

Niall slowly glanced over at her, a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth and Cat stared at him as she retracted her hand and rested it back into her lap. “Sorry,” she muttered, flinging her face forward as she peered down at her hands, “couldn’t...help myself.” 

A chuckle left Niall’s lips and she felt the faintest brush of his fingertips over her temple and then carding delicately through her hair. “It’s okay,” he told her. 

Her eyes flew over to his. “So you’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” 

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. Cat’s stare slipped down the length of his arm that was gripped onto the steering wheel. The sun’s rays glimmered across the silver metal of his watch and it made her eyes squint. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I did that.” 

“I’m much more surprised you didn’t blindfold me,” she chuckled. 

Niall’s grip on the steering wheel tightened at her words and he shot his eyes over to her. “I can definitely do that if ya want,” he said, voice deep in his throat. 

Cat smiled, biting at her lip as she turned her head to peer out of her window. “Maybe later…” 

Fluttering his eyes under the guise of his sunglasses, Niall blew out a heavy breath and licked across his lips. He was trying so hard to control himself around Cat, to not be who she had this perception of him to be, and he folded his fingers into a fist on his thigh as he continued to drive. “Not much longer,” he said aloud. 

•

The second they turned down the tree-lined dirt road, Cat knew exactly where they were. Her eyes went wide and she leaned forward, staring up through the windshield as they passed under the old wooden sign: Camp Sparrow. It had been years since she had been back, four years to be exact, and she breathed out a smile, glancing over at Niall. He quirked his brows at her as they slowly drove down the winding lane of dirt and rocks towards the front office of the camp. “I can’t believe you,” Cat whispered, mainly to herself but Niall heard her loud and clear and he dipped his chin down in a big smile, a pink hue blushing his cheeks. 

Coming to a stop in the same exact place that Cat had watched Niall leave that very summer, the two of them climbed out of the car, Niall grabbing a cloth bag and blanket from the back seat. It was clear that the camp was no longer a functioning summer camp; the grass somewhat overgrown and the wooden buildings a bit worn down, but as Cat peered around the large area, from the numbered cabins to the old dock that jutted out into the lake from the tiny beach area, it felt like nothing had changed. Niall had planned for them to have a picnic, some light food and wine and they spent the following couple hours sprawled out on the woolen blanket in the grass, staring off into the dark muddled water watching as the sun slowly set behind the trees. It was beautiful and quiet, serene and the two of them talked and laughed and reminisced about their past summer together. Cat felt good, she felt happy and she peeked over at Niall, catching the cute lopsided smirk on his face and it made a warmth flutter in her tummy. 

Niall was just happy to see Cat happy, it made his heart pound in his chest to hear her soft laugh and see her bright smile. He knew bringing her back to that place was exactly what they needed, what he needed to show her just how he felt about her. Taking one last sip of wine as the sun had just dipped below the treeline across the lake, Niall dusted off his palms as he stood up. 

“C’mere,” he said, holding out his hand to her. Cat tipped her head back to look up at him, biting at her lip. Sliding her hand into his, Niall gently pulled her up to her feet and slowly began to lead them out towards the lake. Cat’s heart was lashing against her ribcage, heavy and fast as her fingers tightened around Niall’s. His skin was blistering hot, but felt soft pressed to her own, and she thought for a moment that she would be content to stay like that with him. But she also thought that everything that was happening, all that she was feeling was just some kind of fever dream, something that could never really be and she pulled in a jittery sigh just as their bare feet hit the cool white sand of the tiny man-made beach. 

Niall’s fingers eased away from hers and he slipped his hands in the front pockets of his pants. Cat chewed lightly at her bottom lip, unsure as to why he had let her hand go and she crossed her arms over her chest. They stood there reveling in the peaceful silence, stares drowning in the little ripples of water that floated by from the tepid breeze before she cleared her throat. There was something on her mind that she had to get out. “Niall?” she said, her voice meek and nearly carried away by the soft lapping of the water on the shore. 

“Yeah?” He had turned his face to look over at her, Cat’s gaze watching the silhouette of a bird coasting above the tree line.  

She sucked back a sharp breath, peeking down at her painted toes as they curled into the cold sand. “Why did you bring me here?” 

He remained quiet for a moment, her question hanging idle in the air as he gathered his thoughts. “I don’t know,” Niall shrugged, “I guess, I thought that maybe...bein’ here again, seein’ the lake and the cabins and shit, that it would, ya know...spark somethin’ in ya. Memories. About me. About...us.” 

Cat hastily ran her tongue over her lips as she kicked her toes in the sand. “There never really was an us, Niall,” she stated, chuckling lightly, “I mean, we flirted for a few weeks, slept together once...then went back to our normal lives. If anything, I’d say it was just...a summer fling.” 

Niall shifted his stare downwards, rolling his lips into his mouth as he nodded his head. “So I didn’t mean anythin’ to ya, then.” 

Shooting her eyes over to him, she furrowed her brow. “No, I didn’t say that–” 

“Because I know I made ya feel good,” he spit out, aggravation clear in his voice as he caught her stare, “didn’t I?” 

Cat swallowed hard. She couldn’t lie to him, not about that. “Yeah,” she said softly. 

“You liked the way I fucked ya.” 

His words, so deliberate and suggestive in their intention as they floated off his tongue, made her chest feel heavy, like a ton of bricks smashing her down as her breaths stuck thick to the back of her throat. But she still couldn’t lie to him. “Yeah…” 

Niall turned his broad shoulders as he faced her, his brow raised. “The guy you’re with now, does he fuck you like that?” He paused and licked across his lips, his chest swelling with his rapid breaths. “Does he fuck ya like he needs ya, like he can’t get enough of ya? Like he owns ya?” 

Cat’s lips parted as she struggled to find the words, any words and she gingerly shook her head. Honesty was all she could muster as she darted her stare with his. “You’re the only person who’s ever fucked me like that,” she said, her tone subdued, “who’s ever made me...feel like that…” 

“That’s what I thought,” Niall huffed out. 

She rolled her eyes at his callous attitude and pushed out a heavy breath. “You really haven’t changed, have you, Niall?” 

“Not much, kitty cat,” he lightly scoffed, “ ‘cept I’m richer now and I fuck even better.” 

His joke, if that was what he was trying to intend, made Cat sigh out loud. “And it seems like you’re even more full of yourself,” she said. 

Niall smirked at her. “You used to be into that.” 

“Yeah, well...it worked,” she snapped, moving her gaze back out to the calmness of the water. “Four years ago.” 

Niall’s eyes narrowed and he yanked his hands from his pockets, crossing his arms over his chest. Licking across his lips, his eyes studied over Cat; the light flutter of her eyelashes and tiny upturned pout of her mouth, watching as a slight breeze swept a few strands of her hair over her cheek. She reached up and tucked it behind her ear. She was so hauntingly beautiful, it made his chest ache to even look at her, but she consistently left Niall stumped. He didn’t know what to do or say around her, he didn’t know how to pursue her. How to make her want him as much as she had four years ago. As much as he wanted her. But he was determined to find out. “So tell me then, what works now?”

Cat slowly peered back over at him. “You, Niall,” she told him blankly, “just be you.” 

“This is me–”

“No,” she choked out a laugh, shaking her head, “it's not. It's not the real you. Niall, you’re sweet and caring, and sensual and fun. But this? This is you when you’ve got one thing on your mind. When all you wanna do is sleep with somebody, when you’re on the chase.” 

Cat watched his eyes narrow, listening as she went on. “And I’m not saying I don’t like when you talk dirty to me or...flirt so shamelessly and try so hard to get me into bed, I do, but the chase is over...you’ve already fucked me.” 

He cocked his head back. “And what if I wanna fuck you again?” 

“Maybe…” Cat paused and sucked in a shaky breath. His eyes fixated on hers, the intensity causing a ripple of heat to glide over her skin, tiny goosebumps shedding its path. “Maybe you just don’t need to try so hard this time.” 

Niall tipped his head back to his shoulders in a low, frustrated groan, rubbing his palms down the front of his face. Perching his hands on his hips, a dumbfounded chuckle broke under his breath as he looked back over at her. 

“What?” she questioned, wrinkling her brow. 

“I don’t even fuckin’ know anymore,” he snorted, “you make me-...fuck, you make so confused, Cat. It completely fucks with me head, ya know? I feel so different when I’m around you, I always have. And I knew from the first time I saw ya, that first day at summer camp four years ago, that I had to have ya.” 

He paused, licking across his lips. “But it’s like...I don’t even know how to act around ya,” he told her, scratching through his scruffy beard. “The things I’d normally say, what I’d normally do. I flirt with ya, I do everythin’ I can to get ya to want me but, ya just...ya don’t fall for any of me shit. I don’t know what else to do.” 

Cat’s eyes pinched shut in a soft snicker, her head rolling to her shoulder. “I do fall for your shit, Niall,” she confessed, glancing back over at him. “I have...I am.” 

His brows shot up. “You are?”

Biting at her lip, Cat tried to tame back her emerging smile. “I mean, as much as I’d like to say no, that none of your usual shit is working on me, I’m here...right now with you, Niall,” she said softly, “and...I could never lie to you about that.”

Niall gingerly nodded his head, “Okay,” he spoke up, a confidant smirk sliding over his lips, “so if that’s how ya feel, what would you say if I told you that I wanted to lay ya down right here...and fuck ya like you’ve never been fucked before...” 

A breath stalled in Cat’s throat and her eyes fluttered as she peered over the ground at their feet. “Well,” she gently mewed, “I would say that I’d rather not like to have sand in my bits while you’re fucking me, so maybe we can find a hotel nearby instead?” 

Niall took her words, as salaciously as they had left her lips, as a joke and he dropped his forehead into the cup of his hand in a rowdy laugh. Raising his eyes back to hers in a sigh, he noticed that she wasn’t laughing, or smiling along with him. Just...staring at him. His eyes narrowed as he settled himself and he swallowed hard. “You’re serious. You really want me to fuck ya, don’t ya...”

It came out more of a statement than a question in that gritty accent of his, dripping over Cat’s ears like warm honey, sticky and thick, begging to be licked. Her fingers curled into her palms, an unstoppable heat coursing through her body as she sank her teeth down into her bottom lip. She tried to smile at him, tried to conjure up the nerve to be flippant with the lewd words floating in her head, but she couldn’t even settle the uneven pounding of her heart. It was too much. He was too much. “Honestly, Niall,” she said, turning towards him, “there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by these last four years that I haven’t wanted you to fuck me again.” 

Cat barely had time to react before Niall had stepped up flush to her, cradling her face in his big hands. The blistering heat from his palms seared into her soft skin and she lightly gasped as he slowly slid the pad of his thumb over her plump bottom lip. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamt about hearin’ those words come out of this pretty little mouth.” 

Her eyes fluttered and she swallowed hard, eager to play his game. “Should I say them again?” Cat teased. 

Niall smirked and leaned in closer, his lips just ghosting over hers. His breath, hot and silky, spilled out over her lips and she eased her hands up, splaying them at his sides. His hooded eyes darted fast with hers, a recklessness fading into the dark and she struggled to properly inhale. He was too intoxicating, too overwhelming but she wanted him. She wanted him so bad she could feel it swirling in her lower belly and taste it tingling on her tongue. And that was all it took. 

“I...want you...to fuck me…” 

A seedy growl edged from Niall’s throat at Cat’s words and she felt his body tense up under the press of her palms. His chest was heaving, rising high against hers as his lips brushed at the corner of her mouth. “Can I kiss you now?” 

Cat’s eyes fell closed at his sweetness and a hint of a smile tugged at her parted lips as she raised just a bit to her tiptoes. “Yes…please...” 

Niall pushed his mouth to hers, kissing her deep and full, sweeping his tongue into her open mouth. Cat whined out as she kissed him back, harder and with more vigor than she knew she had in her. Niall brought that out in her, that greedy hunger, a hunger she needed to feed. To feel his lips on hers, to taste him on her tongue and swallow his warm breath, she didn’t even realize just how much she had missed him, missed feeling him, until it was happening. Her fingers twisted into the material of his shirt, yanking at it as she tugged his body even closer into her. His big hands held her face, his tongue curling over hers, and Cat felt as if she was going to float away if Niall hadn’t had her tethered so taut down against him. 

The heat was indescribable, the fieriness surging between their flesh sending both into an unyielding desire that neither had thought possible. She wanted him even more than she had years before, and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman. Niall had this need inside of him, an almost feral desire that only she could tame. She was his weakness, and he lavished the power she had over him. With her hands coming up and wrapping around his strong forearms, Niall nipped at her bottom lip as they left hers, a desperate gasp of air shared between the two. His darkened eyes only met hers for a second before he had grabbed her hand in his and began leading her back into the grassy area. 

Without a word spoken, they both hurriedly gathered their things and the remnants of their picnic and headed towards Niall’s parked car. Hopping in and closing the doors, Niall leaned his upper body almost all the way over into her seat, bringing Cat into a heated kiss once more, not being able to help himself. She ran her fingers up through his soft dark hair, twisting into the tiny ends as she urged his tongue into her mouth. Struggling to catch her breath as Niall kissed over her chin and down to her neck, Cat tipped her head back as he sucked along her throat. His thick fingers were tangled in the side of her hair, his tongue slinking over her exposed collarbone before she forced herself to inch away from him, his lips popping off her flushed skin. 

She was drowning in the gaze of his heavy lidded eyes and it took all she had in her to fight off the temptation to straddle him in his seat and fuck him right then and there. Niall swallowed hard as he stared at her. “We have to wait,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering as she cupped her hand around the back of his neck and tugged him into another kiss. “Not here.” 

Nodding his head as he reluctantly eased back, Niall wiped across his mouth with the back of his hand as he settled himself into the driver’s seat. He raked his fingers through his hair, a long drawn out breath huffing past his lips before he started up the car and took off. The ride back was torture, Niall’s big hand not leaving its claimed spot on her thigh, the pads of his fingers kneading into her silky skin as their eyes shot over to one another with each passing minute. He knew he needed her; needed to touch her, taste her, fuck her. Cat could barely hold herself together, her mind reeling with the thoughts of his touch and his kisses, her body aching to have him inside her and her stare stayed hooked on him as he drove, racing through the twists and turns of the back roads. 

After about twenty minutes, Cat had noticed that they had passed a few different motels and was perplexed on why he hadn’t bothered to stop at any of them. “Niall, where are we going?”

“I’m not fuckin’ you in a motel,” he bluntly said, his eyes on the road. 

Cat’s head toppled back to the seat rest and she ran her hand over his that was still clutched to her thigh. “You were gonna fuck me by the lake,” she reminded him, raising a brow. 

Niall peeked over at her, a seriousness written over his face. “Cat, I’ve waited four years to be inside ya again, I’m not wastin’ it on some cheap ass motel.” 

A shaky breath spilled past her lips as he flicked his eyes back to the road ahead, just the bluish beam of his headlights lighting their way. Biting at her bottom lip, Cat could feel herself aching for him, just the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her, the way his touch felt on her skin, it was all more than she could take. She needed him inside her. Slowly tugging the bottom hem of her dress up her thighs, she spread her knees and with the guide of her fingers, eased Niall’s hand down between her legs. 

The car jerked slightly as Niall glanced over to her and was instantly captivated by the seductiveness in her eyes. A rabid heat pulsed through his veins from the soft, playful look on her face. Using the press of her fingertips, Cat kept her stare on Niall as she pushed his hand harder against her. His heart was pounding in his chest as he took her lead, carefully inching the middle of her panties over to slide his fingers along her warm, wet slit. Cat’s eyes fluttered closed, her head tipping back in a shallow gasp as Niall played with her, the pads of his fingertips swirling deliciously over her swollen clit. 

Her hips rolled gently against the seat as she held his hand right where she wanted him to be, coaxing him for more and more. It wasn’t long until he had two of his thick fingers pushing inside her and a barrage of whimpers and moans poured past her parted lips. Seeing Cat like that, rocking herself against his hand, completely at his mercy and falling apart just from his fingers inside her, was the sexiest thing Niall had ever witnessed. But there was no way he was going to let her finish. He was hard as rock in his pants, throbbing with his need for her, and he continued to work her, fingering her and teasing her clit until he knew she was right there, right about to spill over that blissful edge before he yanked his hand away. 

Cat’s mouth dropped open in a shattered gasp, her body trembling from the loss of his touch as she cupped her hand between her legs. Her chest heaved as she strained to catch her breath and she peeled open her eyes to glare over at him, seeing a half smirk tugging at his lips. “I was so close,” she breathed out. 

“I know,” he told her, licking over his lips, “but you’re not allowed to come yet.” He had done it on purpose, bringing her so close and then ripping it away like she was a bad girl being punished and she huffed out an annoyed groan, clamping her thighs together to ease the vibration of her core as she turned her attention out of the passenger window. 

Niall chuckled at her reaction and adjusted himself in his pants as they continued their way back into the city.

•

They made it back to his place, the penthouse of the most luxurious condo building downtown, of course, in nearly record time. His mouth on hers as soon as the doors to the elevator slid closed behind them, her fingers cupped around the back of his neck as his hands slipped up under her dress. Cat gasped for air as his lips left hers when the elevator finally made it to his floor, opening right at his front door. She had soaked all the way through her panties by that point, and it took her a moment to gather herself as he shuffled off the elevator and over to his front door. Stepping up behind him, Cat raised to her tiptoes and slid her hands around his waist as her wet mouth attached to the side of his neck. Niall was fumbling with his keys, cursing lightly under his breath as he was more than desperate to get the girl inside his apartment. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, attempting to turn the lock. Cat giggled against his neck, pleased with his reaction and her eyes watched his fingers shake as he continued to struggle. Burying her nose into the side of his throat, his skin was tepid and salty on her tongue and she hummed faintly as her small hand ran down the front of his body. Niall choked back a breath as he felt Cat palm him on the outside of his pants. 

She smiled to herself, feeling just how swollen he was for her already as she wrapped her fingers around his length. Swallowing hard, Niall finally clicked the door open, but he froze, slowly turning his face to catch her stare. She was still feeling at him, his cock pulsing against the curve of her palm and he smirked. “You want it, don’t ya?” 

Cat pushed the tip of her tongue to her teeth, the pads of her fingers roughly tracing down the length of him. “It’s still mine.” 

“It’s still yours,” he breathed out. 

Tugging Cat in front of him by her wrist, Niall cradled her face and pushed his mouth to hers in another deep kiss, leading them through the doorway and into his place. The front door eased closed and Niall had her slammed up against it, his hips rudding into hers as his tongue swept past her lips. Cat mewed against his mouth, her body vibrating with the yearning to feel him inside her and she tightened her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself harder into him. Breaking the kiss, Cat strained to catch her breath but kept her parted lips brushing at his. Niall had his hand up under her dress again, hooking her thigh at his hip as he groped roughly at her backside. “Not here,” she whispered, eyes pinching closed in a low gasp as his fingers desperately clawed at the soft, meaty flesh. A disjointed whimper spilled out of her mouth. “Your bedroom.” 

Niall faintly chuckled and clasped his hands around her waist, easily hoisting her up. Cat threw her head back in a squeal and locked her heels around his bum. Her mouth was back on his a second later, eager to swallow his hot breath as he walked them to his bedroom. His strong arms were wrapped around her waist, his fingers digging into the thin material of her sundress at her lower back and pulling frantically at the fabric. Holding her hands around the sides of his face, Cat playfully nipped at his bottom lip and rolled her tongue into his mouth in a heated whine. The sound sent shivers down his spine.

As Niall entered the bedroom, the lights low with just the bright glow of the full moon cascading in from the large wall of windows, Cat barely had time to register her surroundings, her eyelids fluttering as Niall sauntered straight over to the end of the large bed and plopped her down onto the mattress. His eyes, now hauntingly dark, were on hers, his chest heaving under the lay of his linen shirt and Cat scraped her teeth across her bottom lip, drowning in the intoxicating heat of his stare. Only the rapid exhales of their breaths could be heard and after a few long, excruciating seconds of them just staring at one another, Cat slowly started to bring her knees up. 

Niall’s lips parted in a low, short gasp as he watched her slip her sandals off her feet and let them drop, his fingers curling into fists at his sides in an attempt to wain the need to have his hands on her. He wanted to touch her so bad, so bad he could feel her searing into his skin, burning his flesh like an unheeded firestorm, reckless in its path. But he also wanted to wait. Watch. He wanted to savor the moment with her, savor being with her and as much as he wanted to feel her tightening around him, feel her skin melting into his as she came, he knew he had to wait. Cat, on the other hand, knew exactly what she was doing. Her chest rose high, a stuttering breath itching at the back of her throat as she rolled her head to the side. With her eyes remaining focused on his, she grabbed at the hem of her dress and carefully pooled it up around her lower tummy. Her fingers danced from her sides to the front of her hips, and she watched Niall bite furiously at his bottom lip as she stuck her thumbs into the hem of her cotton panties and started to wiggle them over her bum. She couldn’t help but giggle, the sound faint and teasing, as she slid her panties down her thighs. 

Niall watched, bated breath and dark hooded eyes, as Cat let the wet, dainty fabric fall from her toe onto the ground at his feet. He swallowed hard as his stare moved from the small heap resting on the floor, back up to her face, a smirk sitting pretty on her lips. “Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, Cat raising a brow slightly at him as she spread her knees apart and slipped her hand down between her legs. Her fingertips hit her swollen clit and Cat pushed her head back in a clenched hiss, her eyelids fluttering closed. Her hips bared down into the mattress as her fingers swirled through her warm, slippery built-up wetness, her thighs shaking out of her control and her toes curling into the white duvet that laid beneath her. Whimpers flowed past her lips, as Cat played with herself right in front of Niall, teasing him, taunting him. She wanted him to want her more than he ever had. Niall strained to settle his breaths, his blue eyes swimming over her as she laid splayed out before him and it got to a point, when her two fingertips circled just right at that sensitive little nub nestled between her folds and caused a broken whine to edge from her throat that Niall couldn’t take it anymore. She was swollen, bright pink and dripping wet, just waiting for him, begging him to slide himself inside her, to fuck her and a deep grunt pushed from Niall’s chest as he leaned down and gently grabbed Cat’s hand. 

The action startled her and she popped her eyes open, staring up at him. “You’re dirty little girl, teasin’ me like that,” he growled out to her, a gasp leaving her lips as Niall brought her used fingers up to his mouth. His eyes stayed on hers, darker than she had ever seen them, as he slowly slipped her coated fingers past his lips. His tongue curled around the ends, Niall sucking the taste of her off of them before he eased them from the heat of his mouth and very slowly pulled her body up to sit. Her head toppled back to her shoulders as she peered up at him, Niall slotting himself between her spread legs that hung off the end of the bed. Cat innocently tucked her bottom lip into her mouth, staying quiet as Niall bent over and began to undress her. She inhaled sharply when Niall’s face rested against the side of hers, Cat feeling as if her skin was going to melt away from the blistering heat of him hovering over her as his fingers fumbled with the back of her dress, easing down the zipper. 

Niall could feel her trembling in anticipation, and he softly tipped his face down against the crook of her neck, pressing his mouth to her skin. “Niall…” she quietly mewed, as his tongue sucked across to her exposed shoulder. His eyes rolled back from the sound of his name spilling so sweetly past her lips as his big hands dragged across her lower back, curling around the thin material. Standing himself back up, Niall tugged her dress up over her head along with him.

“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he told her, his half-lidded eyes draping over her unclothed body. Cat pulled in a garbled breath, and she carefully reached behind her back to unhook her strapless bra, letting it fall onto the floor next to her dress. There was a single moment where 

Niall just stood there in front of her, Cat completely naked with a parade of goosebumps floating over her skin as his stare slid from her face to her breasts to her center. It was erotic and intoxicating, overwhelmingly sensual and with the wild thumping of her heart in her chest and an ache settling deep between her thighs for him, Cat hurriedly reached out and began to undo the buttons of his pants. Her gaze, now easily matching the pitch black of his own, was glued to him, seeing the tiny flush of pink invading his cheeks and the strands of dark hair falling over his forehead and into his eyes as she yanked his pants down his legs. There was a fierceness in her motions, Niall could see it in her face, feel it in her touch and he went to unbutton his own shirt before Cat hastily swatted his hands away. 

He chuckled at her eagerness, instead carding a hand up through his disheveled hair while she worked to undo each button one by one before easing the linen shirt off of his broad shoulders. Now just as naked as Cat, Niall hung his head down, watching as the girl ran her palms down the front of his body, her curious stare taking every single part of him in as her touch trailed after it. He was beautiful, stunning. The changes in his body since she had seen him last, nothing short of perfection. The soft, dark hair smattering across his toned chest, his tiny waist that was sculpted just enough that you could still sink your nails into. Her fingers gently scratched along the lines of his hips bones that led to the breathtaking landscape of his manhood; hard and thick and red-slick with his want for her. She slowly peeked back up at him, the very tip of her tongue running hungrily across her bottom lip and that was all it took for Niall to give up, clasping a hand around the back of her neck as he leaned over and hastily pushed his mouth to hers.

He crawled up onto the bed, his mouth devouring hers as he led them both further up the mattress. “I want ya so fuckin’ bad, baby,” he muttered against the delicious curl of her tongue. Cat had latched her hands up into the long strands of his hair, humming in agreement as Niall used his knee to spread her legs even more and nestle his body down between. Her head hit one of the many pillows that adorned his bed, his palm dragging from the back of her neck, over the curve of her breast to her waist and he gripped harshly at her warmed skin. A moan edged past her pouty lips as Niall eagerly rocked himself into her, his swollen cock rubbing along her slit as his lips kissed over her chin and attached to the side of her throat. 

With her eyes falling closed, Cat wrapped her arms around Niall’s broad shoulders as he used his strength to lift her hip up slightly off the bed, the angle enough to let the tip of his pulsing length sit right at her opening. Pulling in a jumbled breath, she dug her nails into the smooth skin of his upper back, her body on fire, already vibrating underneath him as she waited for him to sink himself all the way inside her. Her mind was going frantic; the heat of him nearly suffocating as she buried her nose into the crook of his shoulder and he assaulted the flesh at the side of her throat with the hot-wet of his mouth. She knew it was what she wanted, it was everything that she wanted. Him. Being with him like that, just like that. And she couldn’t take it any longer–she fucking needed him. Her thighs clamped around his hips and she rolled her bottom up, encouraging him to enter her. She wanted to feel that burning stretch that she had missed so much, that she had dreamed about for so long. She wanted to feel him buried inside her once again.

A whimper burst freely past her parted lips as his fingers tangled into the side of her hair, Niall finally easing his hips towards her as he oh-so-slowly pushed his hardened length inside her warm, wet center. His body tensed as he entered her all the way, a low groan spilling out against Cat’s sticky skin as Niall began to move inside her. Her head fell back under the guide of his hand entangled in her hair, Niall rounding his back slightly as his mouth trailed down from her neck to her collarbones to her chest, his lips pinching around her supple breast. Cat’s fingers slipped up into the back of Niall’s thick brown hair, pulling at the ends as he thrust his hips harder against her and sucked across her clammy flesh, exploring all her soft, pretty parts. The feelings were building fast in her lower tummy, dancing around like a fiery flame waiting to explode and she whined as his teeth nibbled harshly the sensitive bud of her breast. 

His lips popped off her nipple and he licked between the valley of her breasts as he leaned his upper body up. Cat’s fingers untangled from the strands of his hair as Niall rested back on his hunches, both his big hands curving down the length of her trembling body and grabbing tightly around her thighs as he continued to fuck into her. Easing her eyes open, Cat dreamily stared up at him as heated sparks quickly rushed through her entire body, shooting from the lingering taste of his breath on her tongue to the tips of her tightly curled toes. Tiny grunts were spitting past his parted lips as he fucked into her, sweat dripping along his dampened hairline and down his heaving chest. His stare was fixated between her spread legs, watching as he sunk himself into her over and over, her warmth devouring every impeccable inch of him. She felt so good around him like that, her center swollen and silky-wet, taking him so perfectly and Niall licked across his lips as he tipped his hips down and buried himself all the way inside her. 

Cat cried out from the intense sensation, his thickness stretching her tight walls as her body started to shake under the press of his big hands. Niall shot his eyes up to her face, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he diligently watched her and she gulped back a heavy breath, unruly waves of her impending orgasm creeping up from her aching core and pouring hot over her dewy skin. Clawing her fingers into the duvet at her sides, Cat caught Niall’s stare once more, the look in his eyes sending her into a reckless fit, her body needing to him to fuck her, really fuck her. It seemed so new, so different, but harnessing that same wild heat and unrestrained passion she had felt before. But as Niall continued to push himself inside her, his fingertips bleeding into the meaty flesh at the front of her trembling thighs, Cat wanted more. She needed more. 

Whining out in desperation, Cat pinched her eyes closed as she shook her head, rolling her hips harder into him. “Damn, baby,” Niall chuckled, seeing her lash out. She shuddered slightly, catching his stare again as she untangled her fingers from the soft fabric of his bed and slapped her hand down between her legs, frantically rubbing at her clit. Niall could tell her she was desperate to get off, he could feel her throbbing around him, the quivering of her body and rather than give her exactly what she so clearly wanted, instead he pulled himself nearly all the way out of her. Cat gasped from the loss of him, her brows folding in as she wildly darted her eyes with his. 

Her fingers stayed swirling at her clit as her center throbbed, and Niall just watched her reaction in amusement as he rested the tip of his cock right at her entrance. He was being spiteful, menacing, purposely teasing her at that point and Cat was struggling to catch her breath, her chest heaving as she curiously stared up at him. Her lips pursed and she bucked her hips towards him, wanting him to give her more. Raising a brow, Niall obliged, slowly pushing himself inside her again and Cat moaned, her eyes rolling back at the satisfying feeling. “Niall...,” she whimpered out again, easing her stare back to his. Niall was already looking down at her, his massive hands now wrapped around the sides of her waist as he slowly, and very precisely, rocked his hips against her. His darkened eyes were stuck to hers, watching as her lips briefly parted and she choked back a breath. 

“Fuck me like you did before.” 

It came out as a soft whisper, humming sweetly through the thick air like a cyclone attempting to drown them and Niall licked over his lips, dragging his narrowed stare over her flushed face. “Oh, ya want it like that, huh?” he said to her, cocking his head back slightly. His hips were still thrusting against hers, the intensity nearly overwhelming Cat as she gingerly nodded her head. 

“Please,” she begged under her breath, “just a little bit…” 

Cat knew what she was asking for, Niall knew what she was asking for. And he had been waiting for that exact moment. Rolling his tongue in his mouth, a delicious smirk slid over his lips as he leaned himself down on top of her and placed his mouth right at her ear. Cat’s eyes fluttered shut as Niall squeezed bearishly at her waist and rolled his hips, burying himself all the way inside her, so far it almost hurt. Bringing a hand up, he curled his fingers tight into her hair by the side of her face and held her still. “Tell me how ya want me to fuck ya,” he whispered, his streamy breath sticking to the side of her neck. 

Cat clawed down the slope of his back at his words, biting off a broken cry that had escaped her lips. He was heavy on top of her, their combined sweat pooling between their chests and she could barely breathe, but all she wanted was for him to fuck her, fuck her exactly like he had fucked her before. He was thrusting into her as he waited for her words, deep and steadily, but she wanted more. “Harder…” she gasped with a creaking swallow, “please…” 

Niall cradled his palm around the side of her face, his thumb pressing firmly into her jaw. Sliding his stare over to look at her, he kept his mouth by her ear, just barely letting the tip of his tongue slip over her earlobe. “No, kitty cat,” he teased in that deep, filthy accent of his, “tell me exactly what ya want.” 

Wrapping her hands around the back of his balmy neck, Cat brought Niall’s face flush to hers. Their gaze locked heavy, and she swallowed hard as Niall gripped her chin and brushed the tip of her nose with his own. “Tell me,” he mouthed. 

Cat huffed out a low whine as she held his stare. “Fuck me,” she breathed out, “fuck me harder. Choke me, use me.” She paused, swallowing hard as she felt the cold metal of his necklace slapping against her throat. “Make me come. Make me yours.” 

Niall raised a brow and gave her a faint nod. “Louder,” he demanded, thrusting roughly into her. She gasped against his parted mouth, the feverish, tempting action nearly knocking the air straight from her lungs. Slipping his fingers from the side of her face, Niall pried her hands from around the base of his neck and swung them up above her head, pinning both her wrists down into the pillow. Cat’s mouth dropped open as he ghosted his lips to hers again. She could taste him on her tongue, and she struggled to take in a decent breath under the press of his weight. Niall smirked, clamping harder to her wrists and she shivered from his dominant touch. “I wanna hear ya beg for it, baby…c’mon...” 

Her eyes darted languidly with his as a fiery haziness started to invade her head. “Please,” she pleaded, her voice soft as a whisper. “Niall…please, fuck me, use me...make me yours.” 

It was the last bit that was getting to Niall, that was making his heart pound uneven in his sweaty chest and his stomach tangle into knots. Hearing those words slide so richly, so intently off her tongue, it was like heaven and there was nothing else in the world that he wanted. He swallowed hard. “You wanna be mine?” 

“Yes.” 

“All mine? To do what I want with?” 

Cat lifted her chin just enough to rest her lips to his, barely nodding. “Yes...yes, please,” she breathed out, “I’m all yours.” 

Niall smirked, a devilish little smirk that sent an unparalleled rage of scorching heat pulsing over Cat’s skin before she felt his fingers drag up from their grip on her waist and tap right at her mouth. His darkened stare focused on hers as Cat anticipated his next move, gasping lightly as she felt his two fingers slip past her parted lips and push down her throat. She gagged around the stretch of his thick fingers, her eyes pinching closed before he pulled his hand away, smashing his mouth to hers. He kissed her hard, swallowing her warm spit and her rapacious whines as Cat wiggled beneath him, struggling to yank out of his strong grip. Niall chuckled at her attempt as he sucked at her tongue and held her down.

His hips went crazy; faster and harder, crashing into hers with so much force Cat swore she could see blinding lights flickering under her eyelids with each of his heavy grunts spilling down her throat. But all she could do was moan. She moaned and whimpered and took whatever it was that Niall wanted to give her. She was his. All his. And she was enjoying every single filthy little second of it. 

Pulling back from the kiss, Niall leaned up slightly, Cat’s eyes easing open as she stared up at him and with his hand still holding her wrists tightly, pressing all his weight onto them, Niall reached down and grabbed under Cat’s knee, a jumbled breath filling her lungs as Niall hooked her leg onto the broad of his shoulder and sunk himself all the way inside her. The angle was unbelievable, filling her to the brim with all his perfect swollen thickness and a cry pierced past her pouty lips as she flung her head back into the pillow. He was fucking her so deep; his strokes long and slow, hitting that sweet little spot inside Cat every time his hips met hers. Niall just watched her as he moved on top of her, watched her body shake and coil up as her nipples grew harder with each thrust. He watched beads of sweat drip along her mottled flesh, his hooded stare following the trail of them down the curves of her breasts. He watched her eyes flutter closed as his public bone smacked against her clit, sensuous moans breaking out of her bared throat and Niall pushed out a groan, dropping her leg from his shoulder as he slapped a splayed hand to her lower tummy, slowly sliding his palm up the middle of her torso. 

Cat’s mind was a fury, and she shook her head under the pitch black of her closed eyes just as she felt the heat of his touch cradle around her throat. She choked back a breath before his fingers tightened around the sides of her neck and he started to fuck into her just a bit faster, rolling his hips upwards as the tip of his cock hit right at her slippery upper wall. “Fuckin’ look at you,” she heard him grumble between panting breaths. “So fuckin’ gorgeous takin’ me like this.” 

Cat strained to whine out under the press of his hand, her body convulsing as the unstoppable crest of her orgasm was begging to rip through her. Her center was hot and pulsating, her wetness spilling out of her with every pull of his cock and she began to tremble, her chest burning with the need for air as her body quickly, and unrelentlessly, started to give into her much needed release. It was fast, sneaking up on her with a velocity of a thousand lightning bolts charging through her wasted body all at once. Niall continued to fuck into her, not letting up, the sweet whines that cracked from her pinched throat, her beautiful writhing body urging him on and Cat popped her eyes open and caught his stare just as she hit her peak, her mouth hung idle with the silence held at the tip of her tongue. Her face was bleeding red, her eyes rolling back as Niall buried himself deep inside her and unclamped his hand from her throat. 

She gasped, fully giving into her frantic orgasm as it finally over took her entire sweat-coated body. Slipping his other hand from her wrists, Niall hovered above her with both his palms pressed into the bed beside her head as he slowed his thrusts, languidly pushing inside her. Cat moaned out his name, the sound coming out soft from her dry throat and her sticky chest heaved as she struggled to find her breath. Peering up at him, she carefully brought her arms back down and wrapped her hands around his forearms that rested right next to her face. They stayed like that for a moment, all starry-eyed as they stared at one another, soaking up the feeling of Cat pulsing around him as he just barely moved his hips. 

“Fuck yes,” she breathed out, turning her face to press a tiny kiss to the inside of his wrist. It was a sweet gesture and Niall fought the racing of his heart. “You’re so good.” 

Huffing out a short chuckle at her words, Niall confidently smirked down at her and Cat couldn’t help but smile, a slight bashfulness taking over. He looked so pretty above her like that, ethereal, like a God with his brown hair sweeping into his eyes, his skin shiny and patchy red, covered in sweat. His gaze was dark and salacious, full of lust and an uncontrollable need for her. She had just had one of the best orgasms of her life, but she could already feel the heat starting to build again just from looking up at him. Niall reached over and gently brushed away some matted hair that was stuck to Cat’s forehead, a tender touch to her hot skin before he grabbed around her chin and leaned down, pushing his lips to hers. He kissed her, kissed her deep and with purpose and Cat snaked her arms around his shoulders, curling her fingers up into the back of his dampened hair. 

Inching away slightly, Niall caught her stare again. “I’m not done with you yet,” he told her, a gasp leaving her mouth as Niall shoved an arm up under the arch of her back and yanked her up from the bed. Cat tightened her arms around his shoulders as Niall rested back on his knees and eased her wrecked little body into his lap. He was still buried inside her, the quick motions of him sliding her into his lap not letting him leave the warmth of her for even a second. Niall squeezed his forearm around her lower back, holding her taunt to him as he tangled his other hand into the back of her hair. Cat’s mouth was back on his, eager to kiss him. She sucked at his tongue, nipped at his lower lip and swallowed his hot, panting breaths as he thrust his hips into hers. 

Cat felt the prickles of her next orgasm bubbling wild in her lower tummy, Niall moving faster and sloppier inside her with each minute that passed. She knew he was working himself to his own release, needing to feel that same nearly insurmountable high as Cat had just felt and she cupped her hands around his sweaty neck, whining against his tongue. She started to move with him, her hips rocking to meet his and Niall could feel this change in her, feel her center starting to clench up around him, swollen and warm and he dug his fingertips into the side of her waist, his grip tangling tighter into her hair as he gently tugged her head back. Cat let out a curdled cry as her head fell to her shoulders, her eyes pinching shut and her nails scratching helplessly at his scalp. Niall pushed his wet-hot mouth to her neck, slinking his tongue over the hollow of her throat as he bit hard at the soft skin. Cat sucked back a jilted breath at the feeling, her body starting to tremble and shake against him with each perfect meet of their hips. She was already close again, so fucking close, the fire igniting in her belly and swarming like a fuse throughout her and she rocked harder against him, her arms curling tighter around his shoulders. 

His grunts grew more desperate as his lips travelled over her sticky skin, lapping up the beads of sweat that were painted across her naked body. He sucked along the span of her shoulder, his grown-in beard roughing her tender flesh as the scent of his body heat, thick and musty with arousal, seeped into her nose. He held her tighter as she attempted to rub herself against him, and it was so tight Cat almost couldn’t breathe and she brought her face down, moving her arms to hug around his neck. “Fuck...f-fuck,” Niall moaned out in his gruff voice, his thrusts becoming even rougher. Cat squeezed her eyes closed and buried her face down against his broad shoulder as Niall’s mouth hung open right at the slope of her neck. Curling his fingers into the thick of her hair, Cat whined out as her body started to shake, that familiar heat surging over her skin as the waves of her impending release teetered right at the brink, just teasing her to spill over. She struggled to breathe, struggled to swallow back the spitting cries that were being forced past her lips and just before he was able to coerce her begging body over that blissful edge once more, Niall stiffened inside her. His muscular frame tensed within her hold, his sticky body coiling up and gripping tight to her as he finally reached his well-deserved high. 

A low growl of her name spilled from his mouth onto the side of her neck and Cat gasped as she felt him come inside her. She could feel the warm streams of his load filling her up, thick and slippery, something she had never experienced before and her eyes fluttered as she slowly started to roll against him, wanting him to completely empty himself inside her. There was something about it, something about feeling his sticky, hot cum inside her that turned her on even more. It was filthy, obscene. So fucking sexy. And she couldn’t get enough of him. 

“Holy shit,” Niall barely groaned out, jerking his hips as he finished, “shit...fuck, baby…” His big hand was cupped at the back of her head and he held her quivering body against his, sweetly kissing along the span of her shoulder. He was being soft with her, but Cat wasn’t done. She whimpered at him, rolling her hips against his that had all but stopped moving at that point. Lifting her lips to his ear, Cat swallowed hard as she gripped her hands at his sweat-coated upper back. “Stay inside me,” she breathed out, “please…” 

Her body wriggled against him, throbbing around his spent cock as tiny desperate whines purged from her throat. Niall knew she wasn’t done. He knew, without a doubt, she wanted more. 

Lifting his mouth from the crook of her neck, Niall brought her face to his. Her eyes, half-lidded and glassy, locked on his and Niall drifted his stare over her delicate features, his hot mouth hovering at hers. Cat grinded against him. “You wanna come again, don’t ya?” he teased as the young woman faintly nodded. 

Niall smiled and pressed his lips to hers. Before Cat could even properly kiss him back, he pulled away and had her tossed to the mattress on her stomach. It happened so quick that Cat barely had time to even process what was happening, the side of her face smashed into the bed as Niall fumbled around behind her, roughly grabbing at her hips with his wide palms and lifting her bottom up just a bit. Cat sharply inhaled, twisting her fingers into the blankets beneath her, preparing for what he was about to do to her. A broken cry left her lips, laced with soft desperation as her center ached with the need to feel him inside her, to have him make her come all over again. She could feel his warm load seeping from her opening, dripping down her slit and just as Cat went to turn her head to peer back at him, the unmistakable wet-hot of his mouth cupped around her heat. 

A gasp shuddered past her parted lips, soaking into the white duvet as Niall slipped his tongue along her folds, eating hungrily at her. Her body shook as he curled his lips around her clit, sucking hard as his fingertips dug into the supple flesh of her bottom. He held her still and spread her open, licking and sucking and tasting at her, Cat rocking her bum back against him as she wordlessly pleaded for more. Her tummy sunk in, her eyes fluttering closed as she started to feel the wicked pangs of her release itching across her clammy skin once more. Niall hummed as he slurped over her swollen folds, sinking his tongue down inside her. Twisting her head forward to bury her face down into the duvet, Niall had just moved his mouth to suckle her clit before she felt the warmth of his mouth dissipate and the delicious stretch of his cock push inside her once again. 

She cried out, fisting rough at the blankets as the weight of Niall’s sticky body consumed her. He was back on top of her, his hips slowly rolling into hers as he began to fuck into her. She almost couldn’t fixate on anything she was feeling; him, his thick body on top of her, how he felt so fucking good inside her, his hot breath panting out onto the back of her damp neck. It was all too much, overwhelming and out-of-this-world intense, and before she knew it, Niall had sucked a trail up the side of her throat. “This what ya remember, huh? This what ya want?” he asked her, his voice gravelly in her ear. “Me fuckin’ ya just like this?” 

Cat moaned at his lewd words, the memories of being pinned down on that cold, hard desk as Niall roughly fucked into her from behind, gagging her with his thick fingers and making her come around him, instantly sent a wildfire soaring through her body. She writhed uncontrollably under him, gasping back needed breaths as he continued to move on top of her. God, she needed to come again so bad. His thrusts picked up, feeling the way she was reacting to him, and Niall reached up and wrapped her hair around his fist, easing her head up off the bed. 

Cat’s mouth dropped open in shocked silence, her eyes fluttering as Niall slapped his hips against her bottom, fucking into her even rougher than before. He felt so fucking good and it made her squirm. “This is how ya want it, baby?” he growled out to her, sucking feverishly along her neck. 

“Yes...God, yes…” she choked out. 

“Like bein’ me dirty little girl, don’t ya? Takin’ my big cock so good…”

Another seedy moan edged from her throat and the sound made Niall smirk against her skin. “I wanna come,” Cat begged, barely a whisper between her heavy gasps, “please Niall...I wanna come so bad.” 

Niall swallowed hard at the sweet, pleading sound of her voice, something about hearing her beg him, hearing her wanting him so bad, wanting him to make her come, it made him weak. He was so goddamn weak for her. “Fuck, kitty cat,” he moaned, settling his mouth back at her neck as he took a hand and shoved it under her tummy. 

His hips slowed a bit, fucking into her with long, deep thrusts as his hand slipped down between her spread legs. Cat cried out as she felt the pads of his two fingers start to circle at her clit. Niall had eased her face back down, hovering over her as his puffy lips stayed resting at the corner of her open mouth. She breathed heavy as he continued to fuck her, slow and steady, the tip of his hardened length hitting perfectly inside her swollen center as his fingertips played with her sensitive little nub. Her mind was frazzled, wicked and drenched with the sensations that were quickly consuming her entire fucked-out body and it was when Niall softly brushed some strands of her hair away from the side of her face, tiny kisses being planted to the crease of her mouth, that she knew something was different. His big hand was cradling her head as he pushed inside her, his hot breath mixing with her own as they perfectly moved together and a smile started to tug at the corner of her lips. 

His eyes were stuck to her as he rested his forehead at her temple. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out, “so fuckin’ beautiful. God, baby, I-...” he paused, swallowing hard as he gathered his breath. Cat faintly moaned as he buried himself deep inside her. She was right there, so close fucking close to coming she could taste it on the tip of her tongue, her center clenching hard around him. But all she wanted in that split second was to hear his voice. “I missed bein’ inside ya so much.”  

Unfolding her fist from the white blanket, Cat reached behind her and curled her fingers into the back of his hair. “Couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout ya, ‘bout fuckin’ ya just like this,” Niall went on, “all I wanted...was to be with ya again, feel ya around me, sinkin’ into ya, baby.” 

A low whimper poured from her lips and Cat rocked her body back into him, the last little thing she needed before she felt her body lose all control. She slowly writhed under him, under the heat of his thick, strong body, her toes curling and her shaken breaths stalled in her risen chest as he continued to fuck into her, riding her through her intoxicating, mind-numbing high. Broken moans bounced off his stark walls and filled their ears as Niall kept his stare on her, urging her through with the steady, skilled rocks of his hips. His fingers moved between her folds, the warm wetness of her orgasm slick as it spilled out around him and onto his hand. Cat called out his name, over and over, as she succumbed to him, to all that he was giving her, her desired release long and nearly paralyzing, the intense heat crawling over her wrecked body and biting at her flushed skin as she trembled uncontrollably against him. She had come hard, harder and more thoroughly than she had before and she didn’t even know that was possible. And with the mind-blowing sensation of her letting go around him again, it was only a fraction of a moment before Niall was hitting his own second release, much more soft and subdued that time. Cat couldn’t help but smile at the intimate feeling. 

“Oh my God,” she finally mumbled, both having barely come down. Cat strained to find her full breaths as Niall eased his hips to a stop. “I-...I’ve never felt like that before. With anyone.” 

Her eyes were still closed, Cat reeling in the over-heightened feelings of her powerful orgasm as Niall chuckled against her. He pressed his lips to the side of hers. “Good,” he said, slowly pulling his hand out from under her. The loss of his touch between her legs made Cat whine, and Niall smiled down at her. “I love makin’ ya feel like that.” 

Niall stayed resting inside her for a few minutes, sweetly kissing along her jaw and shoulder as she continued to come down, her sticky body relishing in the cool air of his bedroom. Contented hums slipped past her lips, a blissful smile following as she finally was able to catch her breath. She had never felt so satisfied, so purely whole, before in her entire life, he had outdone himself and they were both blatantly aware of that fact. Niall, on the other hand, had never felt with anyone the way he was feeling with Cat in that very moment. He had never felt happy, so fulfilled, so...absolutely in love. Twisting her fingers into his damp hair, Cat lifted her face from the mattress just enough so she could fully kiss him. She needed to kiss him. She needed to taste his breath on her tongue and feel the beautiful heat of his mouth. Niall eagerly kissed her back, and it wasn’t long before he had slipped himself from her and turned her body over in his arms. Curling up in his bed, they tenderly kissed until their lips were sore and their naked bodies nearly listless. They stay snuggled together under the warm covers, a sated, simple quiet filling the room between the last few soft kisses until they both drifted off to sleep. 

•

Sometime in the middle of the night, Cat awoke. Her eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the dark room and she wrinkled her brow, unsure as to where she was before everything came flooding back to her. Peeking over to her left, she caught a glimpse of Niall. He was laying on his back, perfectly still as he slept, his chest rising with the soft ebb and flow of his steady breaths. He looked so pretty, his dark brown hair all disheveled and swept across his forehead as his tiny eyelashes rested daintily on his cheeks. But there was nothing dainty about that man. Sweet in his own ways, soft in others, but he was rough and dirty, and eager and good, and as the thoughts of just a few hours prior started to swim around in her head, Cat suddenly felt the soreness that had settled between her legs. Niall had fucked her, really fucked her, fucked her better than she had ever had before and the girl chewed at her lip as her stare lazily dragged over him, the only thought left in her mind was what was going to happen between them now.

Deciding that she needed some water, her mouth unnaturally dry–she assumed from the endless moans and many frantic kisses shared–Cat very carefully untangled her naked body from his and out from under the covers. She sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, finally being able to take in the sight of the room she had been holed up in all night. Her stare didn’t know what to focus on first; the expansiveness of the space with its decadent art pieces adorning one of the walls, the large expanding floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the cityscape or the enormous bed that she had just been laying in. Cat twisted around, peeking back at Niall. He hadn’t moved a single muscle. And still looked just as cute, just as breathtakingly gorgeous as ever. She smiled down into the round of her shoulder and a slight chill broke out over her bare skin. 

Scraping her teeth over her dry bottom lip, Cat eased up from the bed and peered around the floor, grabbing the first thing she saw to cover herself up with. It was Niall’s linen button up. She slid her arms into the shirt as she quietly stepped over to the window, just letting the thin material hang open down her body. It was a bit short, just barely covering her bum, but it did the trick for the time being and she tipped her head to the side as she flicked her wide, curious stare out across the city’s rooftops. It was beautiful, the bright flickering neon lights, the wiz of the cars zooming through the dark streets and Cat stood there, arms crossed over her front for a few more minutes, soaking up the beautiful scene in front of her before tip-toeing out of the bedroom. 

She didn’t really remember how they had gotten back to his bedroom; her attention, and her mouth, stuck to Niall on the way in, but it wasn’t hard to find her way back out into the open floor plan of his two-story condo. If she had thought his bedroom was spacious, she didn’t even know what to do the second her bare feet hit the threshold of his main living space. Another enormous wall of windows overlooking the city, the space decorated just how she had imagined it would be, much like Niall’s office. Modern and sleek, incredibly expensive, with only a few punches of color amongst the dark tonal colors, it was unreal. There was no questioning that Niall was a wealthy man. 

“Holy shit,” Cat breathed out to herself with a short giggle, tucking some unruly hair behind her ear. She stepped forward, making her way through the open living room and into the kitchen. There were a few lights on, just really soft dim lighting under the cabinets that she assumed accented the atmosphere of his home, so she was able to easily find her way to the fridge. Niall had a few glass bottles of water resting along the shelf in the door and Cat eagerly helped herself to one. Unscrewing the metal cap, Cat shuffled over to the long kitchen island, facing out towards his living room as she put the rim of the bottle to her lips and took a nice, slow sip. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tilted her head back, letting the cold refreshing liquid slip down her dry throat. She had never tasted water that good before. 

The girl must have lost herself in the water for a moment, as it was only when she heard the faint clearing of a throat that she shot her eyes open, bringing her chin back down. It was Niall. Standing just at the threshold of the kitchen, in nothing but a tiny pair of white boxers. Licking her lips, Cat smiled at him, her stare noticeably dragging over the exquisitely intricate lines of his toned body. He was by far the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on. And she was pretty sure he knew it too. 

“Thirsty?” Niall commented. 

Cat wrinkled her brows and flicked her gaze back up to his. “Huh?” He nodded towards the bottle of water in her hand as he stepped over to the kitchen counter, pulling out a stool to sit down. Cat peered down at the bottle that was gripped in her hand. “Oh...yeah,” she giggled in response.

Niall leaned in, resting his forearms on the edge of the counter. His tired, half lidded eyes stayed on hers, those hypnotizingly ocean blue eyes that Cat just couldn’t seem to get away from. As much as she knew she should. She quickly took another sip of water. Niall gaffed and tipped his head down, running his fingers through his mess of hair. “Cat, can I be honest?” he then blurted out. 

Swallowing down the frigid water that was held in her mouth, Cat faintly nodded as she set the bottle down on the counter in front of her. His eyes darted heavy with hers and for a moment, Cat almost couldn’t breathe. She didn’t like that feeling. Not when she had an idea what was coming next. “I wanna be with you,” he said bluntly. 

She dropped her stare, mainly because the intensity of his was eating at her skin, and tucked some fallen hair behind her ear. “I...can’t,” she muttered, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip as she annoyingly picked at the paper label of her bottled water. 

“Why?”

“Because, I-…we shouldn’t,” she said. 

Niall shook his head. “Listen, if it's this boyfriend of yours,” he started, Cat catching his stare again, “ya know it’s not real, it can’t be. And ya know I can fuck ya better, you know I can treat ya better. Better than anyone.” 

Rolling her eyes, Cat huffed out a breath as she rubbed over her forehead. She knew it had gone on long enough, and she had no choice but to tell him. She couldn’t keep lying to him. It was tearing her up inside. “Look, Niall…” Cat paused, already frustrated and needing to collect her thoughts before continuing, “I’ve got to tell you something and I don’t want you to get mad at me.” 

He narrowed his stare at her as he listened, not sure where the conversation was headed. “I, um…” Cat fiddled with a button on his shirt, tugging the airy material tighter around her chest, hoping it was covering her bare breasts. “I don’t really have a boyfriend.” 

“What?” he scoffed.

Cat flicked her eyes up to his, she could see the confusion pulling at his face. His lips dropping open, his eyes scouring over hers, like he was desperately searching for answers. It nearly broke her heart. “I was-, fuck, I don’t even know now why I did it,” she started, plopping her elbows down to the countertop as she covered her face with her hands. “I guess, I said that hoping it would keep a distance between us. To...keep myself from...falling for you.” 

Niall’s brows drew in further. He wasn’t even mad that she had lied, just more than confused at that point. He never knew what was going on inside that girl’s head, and it frustrated the hell out of him. “Cat, why would ya wanna do that?” 

“Are you kidding me?” she shot back, scrunching her face in. “You told me yourself that you don’t do serious girlfriends. You’ve slept with half the city, Niall. I know you. I know how you are and I know that I was to ever get involved with you, really involved... it wouldn’t end well for me.” 

Niall darted his stare over hers for a second as he stayed quiet before he pushed out a long sigh, Cat watching as he hung his head down. She sucked in a deep breath, instantly feeling horrible for all of the shit that had just spewed from her mouth. She hadn’t meant for it to come out like that, not in that way and definitely not after the night they had just had. But she also didn’t know how else she was supposed to get it across to him. He was stubborn, persistent and with guys like Niall, sometimes it was just easier to rip the bandaid off fast. It was better for both of them that way. No matter how she actually felt. 

And as much as she needed to get all of that off her chest, she hated seeing him upset. It hurt her heart looking over at him, slouched over his countertop with his head hanging between his shoulders. He didn’t say a word, not a single word and Cat couldn’t take it anymore. Shuffling around the kitchen island, she stepped over to him and cradled her hand to the side of his face, her thumb rubbing over his bearded jaw. “I’m sorry, Niall,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean it like that, I–”

“That’s exactly how ya meant it,” he mumbled. 

Cat let out a soft sigh. “No, it’s not. Not at all. I like you, okay?” she went on, “I really...I really do like you. What I feel for you is–...I can’t even explain it, and I don’t know how to make any sense of it. I never meant to lie to you, but I’m just-...I didn’t know what else to do. I’m trying to protect myself, okay? I have to.” 

Niall flung his head up as he looked over at her, his body following his movements. His knees bumped hers and she herself slotted between his spread legs, facing each other. “Protect yourself from what?” he asked, brow furrowed. “How I feel about ya? How I make ya feel?” 

Cat shook her head. “You’re gonna get tired of me, Niall.” 

“No.” 

“Yes, you are,” she told him, exasperation idle in her voice, “you’re gonna get tired of me. You’ll get tired of me and you won’t want me anymore and it will just-...I won’t be able to take it, okay? Not from you. It will break my heart.” 

And there it was. The real reason why she was scared. Why she was so intent on holding him at a distance. Why she had lied to him in the first place. Her feelings for him were much deeper than she was letting on, much deeper than maybe she even wanted to admit. Niall huffed out a deep breath and reached up, cupping his hands around the sides of her face. Cat’s gaze met his, and she nearly wanted to burst out crying. She didn’t even know why. “Listen to me,” he began, his brows raised as he stared at her through the tops of his eyes, “I will never get tired of you. I couldn’t. Cat, you are all that I think about, all the bloody fuckin’ time. I can’t get ya out of me head. Shit, I don’t want to. You, love, you are what I want. You have always been what I wanted. I have loved ya since the first time ya looked at me and havin’ ya back in me life these past few weeks, it’s just made me realize that I am nothin’...nothin’ without you.” 

His words slid over her ears, so sweet and so pure, it was hard to believe it was coming from Niall. But it was, and it made her heart soar. She was so intent on the thought of him breaking her heart, on not feeling the same way for her that she did for him, that she hadn’t even thought of the possibility that he, Niall Horan, had real, honest, true and undeniable feelings for her. She swallowed hard, resting her hands to his chest as he went on. “The reason why I haven’t had a serious girlfriend is not ‘cause I didn’t want one, not ‘cause I wanted to go out and fuck everyone, Cat...it’s ‘cause none of them were you.” 

A heavy breath eased past Cat’s lips and she knew there was no way she could hold in the tears that had worked their way to the brims of her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered closed, her chin wobbling as a tear slid down her cheek. She softly giggled, her nerves getting the better of her and Niall gently wiped the tear away as he stood up and pushed his forehead to hers. “Baby, none of them were you.” 

Dragging her hands across the span of his bare chest, Cat gingerly shook her head and just barely eased her chin up, bringing her mouth to his. She kissed him, kissed him soft and then deeper, wrapping her arms around his body as a few more tears slipped down her face. Niall might have shed a tear or two as well, not being one to shout that from the rooftops, but Cat felt the wetness on her skin as he buried his face against her neck when he pulled her into a tight hug. 

“So, you’ll be mine then?” Niall spoke up once more after a few quiet moments, inching back slightly from her embrace. 

Cat smiled up at him, reaching up to brush some hair from his eyes. They were too pretty to cover up. “Niall James, I was always yours. From the first time you kissed me. Besides…how on earth could I say no after that?” 

He snorted. “I’m sure you’d find a way…”

She pinched her eyes closed in a faint laugh. “Not this time,” she whispered, urging him into another kiss. His tongue curled around hers, and Cat sweetly whined before just barely pulling back. “So...I heard you, like, love me or something...” 

Niall cocked his head back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, ya did, did’ya?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, with a faint shrug.

He breathed out a soft smile, one that made her heart nearly explode. “Well, ya heard right. I fuckin’ love you, Cat.”

“I love you, too, Niall,” she replied, her eyes dancing over his, “I always have, even though I spent the last four years trying to fight it.” 

With his brow raising, Niall licked across his lips. “Figured that. I always knew ya loved me,” he said. 

“You’re just being cocky now,” Cat rolled her eyes, her fingernails raking down the slope of his back. “You didn’t know shit.”

Niall laughed. “Of course I did, petal. Just had to get you to admit it,” he said. Pulling himself away slightly, he slipped his gaze down her scantily covered frame. She was on full display, nothing being hidden by the material of his shirt at that point. A familiar heat began to crawl over Cat’s exposed skin, Niall’s wild blue eyes bleeding dark as the intensity of his stare grew with each passing second that he looked over her. She knew that look all too well. “And I also know…” he paused, slipping one of his hands inside the hem of his open shirt that adorned her body. She faintly gasped as he groped at her breast, rubbing his fingertips across her pert nipple. His playful touch burned at her sensitive flesh and he peered back up at her. 

Niall thumbed at her bottom lip as he leaned in close. “...we got a lot more fuckin’ to do, kitty cat.” 

Cat bit off the bashful smile that was etching across her lips, her cheeks punching a bright pink. Niall chuckled amusingly at her reaction and took her hand in his, kissing sweetly across her knuckles before leading the way back to his bedroom. And as Cat held his fingers within hers, watching the muscles in his back move as he walked in front of her and felt the soreness between her legs dissipate as that uncompromisable need for him took over, all she could think about was the fact that he was hers. All hers. Hers to kiss and touch, to play with and fuck. To laugh with, and cry with and cuddle and enjoy. Hers to make love to. Hers to love.  

And it was so much better than a million hot and sticky nights spent at summer camp. 

~~

Without your love, I’m jaded, going crazy, come save me,

Hearts beating, not breathing, I’m breathing...

[padfootagain]

A Very Rose Mistake (IX)

Part 9 : How You Crossed The Line

Here we go for a new chapter! I hope you like it!! Romance is progressing, the two babies are absolute idiots but we love them anyway, a little warning for some angst and… that's it. I hope you like this chapter, don't forget to tell me what you think of it!

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 4403

I

Japan, 2012

Harry hated the fact that he travelled so much he sometimes lost track with it all. Right now, he wasn't sure of where he was going. Waiting for a flight in an airport in Tokyo, he wasn't certain of his destination. He was going to Australia, but to which city were they stopping first? He couldn't remember… Canberra? Sydney? Darwin? His schedule was too busy for him to keep track, and to be honest, as he looked at the lights of the planes taking off towards the night sky, Harry was too tired to check now. His life was going a little too fast, but it was a price he had to pay for a job he loved, and he was ready to pay that debt without a hesitation.

His bandmates were either on their phones or sleeping, their shapes twisted in the uncomfortable airport seats. They had another two hours to wait for their flight. And no matter how much he liked the aesthetic of planes flying into the dark sky, Harry was a little bored himself too. So, he imitated his friends, and picked up his phone, checking his mails and his twitter account too.

And that's when he saw it.

He wondered why Melanie was congratulating you. He saw several other tweets of the same kind, each of them making his frown deepen.

What was going on? What were they congratulating you about?

It took him a few minutes to find back your tweet that had started it all. And as he read the words, he was stunned, mouth falling agape and eyebrows creasing further above his green eyes that travelled across the screen over and over again.

I've been accepted to Oxford!

Oxford? Harry didn't even know you had applied to Oxford, less alone that you had been accepted there. Of course, it was a great news, he guessed you must have managed to get a scholarship to go there, which was more than remarkable.

But he… he didn't even know that you had applied. And now you were accepted?

Even if he felt guilty as soon as the feeling bubbled in his chest, he felt angry more than happy for you. Of course, he was happy and proud, you had gotten into fucking Oxford! But he hadn't known anything about it. Not a word from you. Not a single word. You hadn't told him you had been accepted, and not even applied. You must have been terrified, you must have been so stressed because of it, and so excited, and you didn't share anything about it with him. No doubt that while you prepared to apply and then waited for an answer, this would have been the most important thing going on for you. And you hadn't shared any of it with him.

There was a time, in your friendship, when you shared everything with him. Every single detail of your day, you told him. And he did the same. Didn't matter if it was as mundane as what you had eaten for breakfast. You told him. You used to have no secrets for him, and he used to have no secrets for you.

But now, your relationship had declined to such an extent that he didn't know about your career choices. Your inspirations. What you wanted. You hadn't told him anything about how you had felt applying. There was once a time when he would have been the first person you'd call to announce him a good news, no matter what it might have been. But now, you didn't even bother to inform him of being accepted to university.

And the reason why he was angry wasn't so much that you hadn't told him. He wasn't mad at you, he was angry at himself, for letting your relationship thin out so much along the months he spent away. But then, he had tried to get away from you. He had tried to forget you, tried to forget that you had broken his heart, tried to forget that he longed for you to be more than a friend, and you clearly didn't want the same thing. He had taken willingly a step back, placing himself on the outskirts of your life instead of being at its centre, and really, he was the only one to blame for it all.

But it hurt to see you make a life for yourself he wouldn’t be a part of. And as he stared at your tweet, he wondered if he had made the right call when he put distance between the two of you.

He wasn't sure of how he felt for you, or at the very least, didn't want to put a name on his feelings. But it hurt to not be near you. It hurt now to know that you were erasing him of your life. It hurt every second of every day to not jump on a plane and finally kiss you. And maybe he was a fool for forbidding his own mind to name what he felt for you, but he guessed it was only going to bring him more pain, and he didn't need that.

And he felt foolish for it all, because his life was amazing. He was singing in front of thousands of people almost every night, with this group of boys who had become his friends, and he was having the time of his life. And it wasn't that he didn't love where he was, nor that he was ungrateful for it at all. It was simply that… he wished you could be here to make every happy moment even brighter, the way only you ever could.

And for having you so far away, he was the only one to blame. He had tried to put distance between the two of you, and he had brilliantly got it right. Now, though, he wondered if it weren't all a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.

As he stared at your tweet, in the airport terminal while strangers flew in giant planes that blinked red and green lights to the inky sky, for the first time, Harry figured out that he got it all wrong.

He thought that by pushing you away, he would heal. It would be easier. After all, people didn't always linger into one's life forever, some were meant to only pass by, others were meant to settle in for a while before leaving too. And he had thought that you were one of the latter. You were here for his childhood, and for the next chapter of his life, you would be gone.

But now, in this airport with planes flying off to the other side of the world, or maybe even to the stars, it seemed, as he stared at their trajectory aiming right at the moon… now maybe he wanted you to be one of the people who always stayed.

It would hurt to have you around. It would hurt so bad to see you be with someone else, when he still wanted, despite his own relationships, to be with you. But as he clenched at the fabric of his t-shirt now, as if it could ease the pain in his chest, he reckoned that it hurt just as much to not have you at all. Even if it was only to be your friend, maybe it would be better to have you still, rather than losing you completely.

The more he thought about it, the more Harry reckoned that he had been wrong all along. And now, all he wanted was to call you and try to repair all that he had broken.

As the last bits of hesitation lingered in his troubled mind, he pulled out of his wallet a little green marble that he carried everywhere with him. He played with it when he was nervous. He made it roll between his fingers when he was sad. He stared at it when he was scared. Because you had given it to him, and it reminded him of you.

He shook his head at his own behaviour. What was he even doing? Pretending to forget all about you when he carried you around across the world in his pocket? What was he doing?

He looked for your contacts on his phone and called you. He realized then that he hadn't heard your voice in three months, and now that the beeping sounds of his phone call echoed in his ear, he wondered how he had managed to live for so long without your voice.

You picked up the phone at the fifth ring.

"Hello?"

Your voice was a little distorted by the phone, but it was still yours. And Harry didn't expect to react like that, but tears burned his eyes as he heard you.

He hadn't realized yet how much he had missed you.

He cleared his throat to finally answer.

"Hi, Y/N! It's Harry."

He heard you chuckle a little.

"I know, your name was written on my phone, you dummy!"

He chuckled as well, chasing the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand. Why was he even crying?

"I know, reflex."

"How are you? Off to serenade yet another country?"

"I am actually. I'm waiting for my flight, going to Australia."

"Wow…"

You sounded sadder now, and he wondered why. He wasn't sure how to react, so he decided to ignore your tone.

"I… I was calling because I saw on twitter that you're going to study in Oxford! That's amazing! Congrats!"

"Thank you! Yeah, I'm very excited!"

"I… I didn't know you had applied there," Harry added in a weaker voice.

He could see you shrug in the silence that followed.

"Reckoned you'd be busy. Didn't want to bother you."

Didn't want to bother you.

How could you ever imagine that you bothered him? Especially with something so important!

"You wouldn't have bothered me, you know?"

"I… I don't think I know anymore."

Harry felt like this too, and yet, it hurt so bad to hear you say it out loud.

"I… I'm sorry," he let out in a shaky breath.

"What for?" you asked innocently.

"For not being here for you."

"It's okay, you're busy with your career, and your songs and…"

"No… no, it's not just that. I… It's my fault. I… I haven't paid enough attention to you and I thought…"

But he bit his tongue, not really knowing where he was going with this. He heaved a sigh and ran trembling fingers through his hair.

"It's my fault. I'm the reason why we're not as close as we used to. And I'm sorry for that."

"It's okay, Harry. People grow up. People change. And we just… grew apart instead of together, like we used to."

"I don't want that. I don't want us to not talk. I don't… I don't want to lose you. And I'm sorry for letting you slip away. I was a jerk. I'm sorry."

"You're not a jerk. You're just annoying."

Under other circumstances, Harry would have laughed at that, but not at this moment. He dried his cheeks instead, and was grateful for his bandmates all being busy sleeping or playing stupid games on their phone, too distracted to pay him any attention.

"No, no I'm a jerk. I… I was being selfish and I… I just thought… Doesn't matter, I was wrong. And I… I'm sorry. I don't want this to happen again. You're… you're my best friend. Always have been. And I don't care if we're thousands of miles apart or leaving next door to each other, you're always gonna be special to me. And I… I want to be your best friend even when I'm on another continent. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. I'm sorry I've missed something so important to you. I was selfish, and I was a dick. Can you… can you forgive me?"

He heard your sniffling on the other end of the line, but you let out a soft laugh soon.

"You've always had a taste for the dramatics, chuckaboo."

The silly nickname finally made him laugh.

"That's why you love me, lambkin."

"Maybe…"

"So… can you forgive me? I'll… I want us to be closer again, like we used to be. I'm sorry I ran away, I'm sorry I didn't make any effort. I'll try to be better now."

"It's okay, you're forgiven."

Harry smiled, resting his forehead against the cool glass, looking at the planes taking off again.

"Alright, then. Tell me everything about Oxford. What did I miss?"

"It might be a bit long, do you have time?"

It was a pretty sight, the lights flying up to the darkness. Red and green blinking as they flew towards silver stars that shimmered constantly, something solid and reliable in a world that changed too fast sometimes.

It was a pretty sight, indeed, to watch people flying away, and hearing your voice made it better.

"I have all the time you need. Tell me everything."

 II

Loch Lomond, 2020

 You were kissing him.

Your lips were pressed to his. Soft and cold after your fall in the water, and yet Harry's body seemed to be burning from the inside. Every single drop of blood coursing through his veins seemed to have burst on fire. There was electricity running through every of his muscles, all the way to the tip of his fingers. And yet his brain was like frozen, and it wasn't because of how cold the wind felt against his wet skin and clothes.

You weren't moving your lips, simply pressing them against his, your hands holding tightly the sleeves of his jumper, to prevent him from moving away.

What you didn't know though, was that Harry had no intention to move away whatsoever. After a few seconds of surprise, his eyelids finally fluttered close, and he shyly pressed his lips to yours as well. You seemed surprised, but when he moved his lips slowly, the movement a mere caress, it was your turn to feel all thoughts vanish from your head.

You weren't able to think straight, only to respond to Harry's movements. Your lips moved on their own accord to follow his movements, and your body leaned into his when his arms wrapped around your frame to pull you closer, and your hand left his arm for his wet hair when Harry deepened the kiss even further.

He was kissing you.

You thought that just a couple of seconds of pressing your lips to his would make a good proof of your relationship for your family, but it seemed that the situation had completely reversed, and now, you were the one melting in Harry's arms just as much as Harry seemed to press himself as close as he could to you.

When you finally broke apart, struggling to catch your two breaths, your eyes slowly opening, you stared at each other. You seemed to both be asking a thousand questions in the loud silence that had fallen in between the two of you. You kept staring at his green eyes, both of you seemingly stunned and asking both the same question although it couldn't pass the tip of your tongues.

What just happened?

You were both shaken out of your trance-like state by the voice of your mother calling out for the two of you with laughter in her voice.

"Come on, lovebirds! You need to get inside or you'll both catch your deaths!"

You both shied away, looking anywhere but towards the other as you obeyed your mother's words, hurrying back to the group, most of them laughing at your accidental bath. Looking at the two of you walking towards the group with embarrassed looks on your faces, your mother took her husband's arm, and with a happy chuckle, she sighed the prediction she had made years ago.

"Oh, love… I've always known those two were made for each other."

  Harry left you the shower first, drying himself with a towel and trying to get warmer by adding layers of clothes. His hair smelled like mud though, and he hated the feeling. Outside, the sun was slowly setting, creating strange hues of orange and gold in the autumnal sky. The loch was loud, the wind had grown stronger as the light dimmed out and it was shouting in the branches and shaking the waters now. Little waves crashed on the shore with an unwavering whisper, birds seemed to call each other from tree to tree to take cover before the clouds that gathered above the mountains would create a storm. From time to time, a clatter or footsteps would echo through the building, adding new layers to the natural melody of the place. And Harry reckoned that it was the perfect song for his thoughts to develop and twirl in his head.

What on Earth had happened?

You had kissed him. You had kissed him, and then he had kissed you back. He could still taste the remnants of the apples you ate earlier lingering on your tongue. He could smell your sweet perfume and your shampoo enveloping his senses. He could feel your heartbeat against his ribs, loud and vibrant and faster than it should have been. He could feel your fingers in his hair, and your arms around his, and your lashes brushing his cheekbones. He could feel and hear and smell every single detail from that moment by simply closing his eyes.

And he was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by a tidal wave of feelings he had spent years repressing, and quenching, and shushing. And now they were back, vibrant and hollering, and he couldn't ignore them anymore. He couldn't simply shut them off like he had done so many times before, to the point of even fooling himself that they were gone for good, lately.

No, everything was different this time. Everything had changed.

How could he deny that he was in love with you when he had had a taste of what it would be like to be with you? He had dreamed and imagined a thousand times what it would feel like to kiss you. The real thing was a million times better. A million times brighter, more intense, more… perfect.

How was he supposed to act like nothing had happened? Was he even supposed to act like nothing had happened? Did it mean anything to you?

Seeing all the guests staring at the two of you, it wasn't hard for him to guess the thought that had crossed your mind. Kissing Harry then, when everyone was looking, was an opportunity to show everyone that your relationship was real. But the problem was, your relationship wasn't real. And he had set up a rule stating no kisses.

He could barely breathe as all these thoughts, questions and hesitations swirled through his head. But most of all, he could barely draw a breath because of how his heart pounded in his chest.

He loved you. And this time, he had no idea how to tame the feeling that made his heart implode. Now that the floodgates were open, it seemed impossible for him to close them again, and the words and feelings he had spent years hiding were now resurfacing and he was unable to quieten them again. They had been let loose, and he couldn't hold them back now.

He loved you. He had always loved you. He had never stopped loving you. It had always been you. Before he came here with you, before you moved to L.A, before his first album he wrote about you, before he got his heart broken by somebody else, before he left the band, before he got to tour the world, before he walked with you in the snow while drunk, before he made you pasta in Oxford, before he missed you too much to stay away, before he went to X-factor, before he was sixteen and you almost kissed in his kitchen…

You opened the door to the bathroom, your hair wrapped in a towel, and you gave him a shy smile, nodding towards the room. The air rushing out of the bathroom was warm and smelled of your shampoo. Harry almost cried at the scent.

Almost…

"Your turn."

He nodded before grabbing his pyjama pants and heading for the bathroom. The warmth was even stronger inside the room, but he wasn't surprised. He knew you liked to shower with water so hot he wondered how you didn't burn yourself. The mirror above the sink was covered with a heavy layer of condensation, tiny droplets of water making it impossible for him to see his own image in the glass. And maybe it was for the better…

Throughout the entire shower, he washed himself without even noticing. You were still in every one of his thoughts, and he came to this conclusion: he needed to talk with you about what had happened. About that kiss. About the fact that you had agreed not to do this kind of things, and more importantly, that he couldn't hide the fact that it wasn't a meaningless gesture to him. Something had awoken inside of him, and he couldn't simply ignore it and act as if nothing had happened.

He didn't bother drying his hair, and let droplets fall down on his t-shirt, hurrying back inside the bedroom. Now that he had come to a decision, he just wanted to get it over with, let it all out.

You were lying in bed, under the covers, with a history book resting on your stomach while you were distracted by your phone. Harry took a deep breath in before walking over to the bed and sitting down by your side, his weight bending the mattress finally making you look up and notice his presence in the room.

"Hey," he breathed, mentally slapping himself the second the word passed his lips for being such an idiot.

You put down your phone and shot him an amused smile.

"Hi."

"Hmm… I was wondering… can we talk?"

"Sure," you nodded, sitting a little straighter.

"'S just… about… I mean, I think we should… talk about…" he stuttered, knowing he was blushing to a ridiculous amount, his heart beating so fast he wondered how the organ could sustain such a rhythm without exploding. "Huh… what happened earlier today."

"What do you mean?"

He rose both his eyebrows in surprise.

"You… So… huh…I…"

"I think my family definitely believes we're together now, so mission accomplished."

"Good… but that is not what I wanted us to…"

"I told you all we needed was to be a little more… romantic about it. But it worked, so all is fine."

"But we…"

"So, there's no problem anymore."

"Don't do that…"

You picked up your book, that was still resting on your stomach, and tried to hide behind it, in the hope that Harry would not notice how you struggled to breathe then.

But Harry tore the book away from your hands, and looked at you with a deep frown.

"So… huh… are we going to mention that you've snogged me or…?"

"Snog is a big word for what happened," you mumbled in response, crossing your arms before your chest.

Harry put your book away on his bedside table, as if he was confiscating it.

"You did kiss me. And let's be honest it was a… pretty… amazing kiss."

"Really? You… you think that?" you asked shyly, your voice a little lower than before, and your heart racing, but for another reason now instead of your previous anxiety.

An old and familiar feeling you had tried to keep at bay for years, but had never been able to banish for good… not with him… never with him.

He fiercely blushed all the way up to the tip of his ears.

"Hmmm… yeah… yeah, I'd say that. Didn't… didn't you… like it… when we kissed…?"

"No, no! I mean! Yes! I did! I… I liked it. You… you're good at… kissing."

"Thanks."

"Thanks. I mean… you're welcome."

"You're… you're very good at kissing too."

"Thanks."

"Hmm… yeah… so… that was… that was something that happened, and we agreed… we agreed not to do it when we shook hands in LA about the whole thing."

"I have to admit I didn't really think before doing it. It's just… everyone was looking at us and it just seemed like the perfect thing to do to… seal the deal and convince everyone that we're dating."

So… nothing else. Just one more move to sell the whole charade. Harry wasn't sure why he was so disappointed to hear you say these words, when he was well aware of what you would say before even mentioning the incident. Still, he felt his heart breaking once more as you said the words he expected anyway.

"Right. So… hmm… that was a one-time thing, right? Like…"

"Oh yes! It was just on the moment and… I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable because of it."

"Good. Yeah, it's okay, just… we had agreed not to do it."

"It won't happen again."

"Good. Good…"

Harry suddenly turned around and settled in the bed.

"Good night then," he let out as quickly as he could, eager to turn off his light and hide in the shadows the way you were breaking his heart right now.

It wouldn't happen again… he wanted it to happen again though. If he wasn't so scared of losing you, he would try to kiss you again right there and then. But he didn't. Instead, he extended his arm and turned off the light on his nightstand.

"Harry?" you called in a shaky voice, unsure of what to say first.

I wanted to kiss you. I want to kiss you again, right now. I like you. Not like a friend. Never have. Harry…

"Hmm?" his voice came out like a whisper, his back facing you.

You struggled to swallow the lump in your throat.

"Can you give me back my book now?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

He handed you the heavy volume without looking at you, and you were grateful for it, hoping to hide behind the pages of your book how heartbroken you were that he wasn't contradicting you at all.

Clearly, he didn't want to kiss you again, right?

*******************************************************

Taglist : @emcchi​ @fishstick-knows @eldahae​ @just-damn-bored​ @retrouvailessx​ @marvelstudies2020 @boxofteenageideas​@ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet@notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky@snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity@i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony@madamrogers​ @cronias13​ @stylesfics-xx​ @mellamolayla​ @mariaenchanted​@swtxel​

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Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.1}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.6k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

Robin slumped down in her seat with a sigh and the oddly bittersweet feeling of melancholy mixed with excitement. Over the rim of her sunglasses, she observed how Jorien rolled her eyes at Cas, but helped her stow away her enormous bag in the overhead compartments nonetheless. It was still before noon, but the sun was already scorching Robin's skin as it flooded the compartment of the Hogwarts Express they had chosen to claim. The school year was over. Time to head back to London.

Minutes later, when the train slowly started moving and the two other girls finally sat down as well, Robin couldn't help feeling more excited than sad at last. Sure, leaving Hogwarts had always dimmed down her mood quite significantly, but this year it was a bit different. For one, she had intentionally chosen to take the train back to London together with her roommates. She also could've apparated back home, now that she had passed the class and gotten her license, but she had decided against it. Perhaps for nostalgic reasons, perhaps because of her constantly babbling but very much appreciated company. But most importantly –and therefore the real reason why she was more excited for the summer to start than dreading to part from her beloved castle– she actually had plans for the holidays for once. Plans which included two of her favorite things in the entire world; potions (in the broadest sense) and Snape. The latter obviously being more reason to her current excitement than the former, but ultimately she was very happy about both.

Really, she had been planning it for a while now. Robin wanted to continue her hunt for rare ingredients, or rather her studies thereof, and after the by now renown success she'd had last October, she had been quick to decide that she would spend the summer with the same kind of expeditions to confirm her theories. Obviously she wouldn't be able to work her way through the entire handbook, which she had kept on expanding and improving throughout the last year, but she would just start somewhere and work her way through as far as she got. Fortunately, from the very moment she had told Snape of her plans, he had been dead set on coming along, saying how it was far too dangerous to deal with some of the things she would necessarily have to encounter on her own, and after a while of teasing and prodding, he had also admitted that he simply wanted to do this together with her either way.

To Robin, the prospect of that, of their plans, was enough reason to keep smiling to herself from time to time, or really any time she thought of it. The only dimmer on her mood was that their adventures would only be able to start from next weekend on; before then, Snape was still stuck at Hogwarts for whatever boring thing Dumbledore had the professors do after the students had left, and Robin for her part had promised to wait until then. For his sake more than her own, and unfortunately, that left her with a week to spend with her parents. Lovely.

"Earth to Robin! What are you all smiley about?" Cas wondered loudly, snapping her fingers in front of Robin's face to get her attention.

"Oh, just excited about my plans for summer." She shrugged in return, yet again unable to stop grinning to herself. Damnit, she really was as subtle as a pink elephant.

"You actually have plans for once? After years of saying you literally don't care? Spill the tea, what's the story?" Jorien quirked an eyebrow at her in doubt and question, and Cas nodded in agreement to the objection.

"No story, I'm just excited, that's all."

"What's your plans then?"

"Proving my theories about different substances and ingredients, testing methods and means to find them, and improving all of it based on the results of practical research." Robin explained in one breath, and received two questioning looks in return. With a sigh and a smile she added, "I will travel around and look for plants and animals I can use for potions."

"Uuh, going on adventures! Why didn't you just say that!" Cas beamed in return, then went off into her own direction with it. "You should write a book about it! Or better, a comic! With moving pictures and all that kinda stuff! 'Robin the lone scientist'... How about that?"

"More like 'Robin the mad scientist'." Robin laughed in return, letting her head fall back against the seat for a moment until she could tone down her grin a little.

"Perhaps you should let us come with you! Then you certainly won't be alone anymore." Jorien mused carefully, more hopeful than intrusive, and Robin's eyes fell onto the two grinning girls again.

"I won't be alone at all, actually… My best friend is coming with me." She finally allowed herself to admit, and the words were already enough to make her skin tingle. Geez, she really shouldn't be this excited about it… but it didn't hurt anyone either.

"Oi, that mysterious guy you never lose more than a word about?" Cas' eyes lit up, and she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Perhaps you will finally get that passionate romance I've been hoping for!"

"Speaking of which, have you made plans to visit Simon?" Robin inquired, brutally changing the topic before they would try to snoop any more.

"Unfortunately, my parents aren't too fond of the idea of me having a boyfriend." The blonde rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, falling back into her seat with a huff. The grandeur of the gesture made Robin want to snort, but she suppressed it for empathy's sake. "So I probably won't see him at all until summer's over. I hope he doesn't find someone better than me in the meantime!"

"You can always write letters to him." Robin suggested with a shrug. "The anticipation and delay in that can be quite exciting as well. Carefully chosen words, the time taken to share a piece of one's mind with the other, the reassuring physicality of someone's handwriting on parchment…"

"You're terribly romantic, you know that?"

"Don't tell anyone." Robin replied, rising her eyebrows at them with a small smirk. "I have a reputation to uphold."

… … …

The one good thing once they arrived back in London, after Cas and Jorien had found their parents who had come to pick them up like always, was that Robin didn't have to deal with her trunk anymore. With a swoop of her wand, it shrunk down to a miniature and disappeared in the depth of her backpack. Thank God she was finally over seventeen… had been for a while now, actually. The summer would be so much more enjoyable now that she could use magic outside of school.

Instead of taking the first train back to Oxford like she usually did, Robin spent some time strolling around London. After all, she could be at home in a blink now whenever she fancied to be, and she didn't have luggage other than her backpack either. When she eventually sat down in a small cafe with a book Cas had practically forced upon her (not without making Robin actually promise to read it over summer), she couldn't help wondering what Snape might be up to right now. It was around this time when they would usually have pre-dinner coffee, or take a walk around the grounds, or set up for that evening's work in advance… oh bloody hell, she missed him already. But in the light of the impending week with her family, she also found herself missing Jorien and Cas. Anyone was better company than the people who were (probably not even) waiting for her in Oxford. For a moment, she wondered if they would care if she didn't come home today. If they would even notice.

Sighing, Robin ordered the largest coffee on the menu and then went to distract herself from the inevitable necessity to go home by reading Cas' book for now. It was the kind of read Robin wouldn't pick up even with her eyes closed; a cheesy romance novel about a girl around the same age as her, who slowly discovered the 'wonders' of love and physical intimacy in a plot that otherwise didn't even fit the romance. Robin couldn't help rolling her eyes every other page, but she had promised Cas that she would read it, and thus she had to suffer through all the drama and badly phrased make-out sessions now. Why on earth was this Cas' favorite book?! Admittedly, the girl deemed fashion magazines the high art of literature, but this… ugh. Sometimes Robin wished she didn't take her promises quite so seriously.

When her coffee was empty and a good third of the dreadful book behind her (which at some point had gotten a little less dreadful… not that she would ever admit that to anyone), she decided that it was late enough to make her way home at last. If she didn't want to sleep in the gutter, there was little else she could do. Well, technically she could camp out somewhere up north… she had everything she needed in her backpack… but some stupid part of her mind wanted to give her parents another chance to care. Some sparks of pathetic hope had crept through the cracks in her walls once again, even if she knew that she would only be disappointed again. It couldn't be helped either way. After paying for her coffee, she sought out the first space away from prying eyes, and finally went home in a swirl of time and space.

… … …

It had been three days, and Robin was already going insane. During her absence, her parents' house had turned into an outpost of the local university, or so it seemed. Not only had her bedroom been unrecognizable and all her things were packed up in boxes in the basement upon her arrival, but there simply were too many people around her on a constant basis, and no possibility to hide; Robin's parents, the three American scientists currently living with them, and usually two to five other people working on the same project even after hours. Begrudgingly Robin had accepted that she no longer had her own room in this house, and even that she had to live out of cardboard boxes for the moment… But the five other people living in this house with her currently were just too much.

The moment she'd come home on Monday evening she had noticed two things right away: One, her parents hadn't expected that she would actually want to sleep on the couch for more than a night. Two, the people from the States were assholes, to stick with their language. Well, two of the three, at least. A married couple who had moved into her old bedroom, and honestly, they could be summarized as mainly three things: religious, respectless and rude. Right on the first evening, they hadn't hesitated to make not so subtle but very much mocking comments about Robin 'attending a boarding school for special children', as her parents seemed to have explained the situation to them. Then they had gone on to comment on her 'disorderly choice of clothing', which they deemed entirely unsuitable for a young lady of any respectable family. Them finding out that Robin, in fact, didn't pray before meals (nor at any other time really), and also had absolutely no intention to, had resulted in a lengthy speech about the importance of God's guidance for a young lady (that term again…), especially when she was constantly tempted by vicious males around her. (They had also found it outrageous that the school she attended wasn't just for girls!) At that point, Robin had regretted ever coming back to this place, ever allowing herself to hope that it might not be completely awful. That had been three hours after her arrival.

Three days later, she was going insane for real. The only good thing was that every one of them was gone throughout most of the day, which allowed her to take a break from the constant orders and remarks given to her by four people by now, none of which actually had the right to do so. Honestly, she didn't know why she didn't just leave. Pack up the boxes in the basement and find some other place to live, where she wouldn't be either entirely ignored to the point of feeling invisible or pestered with disdainful comments. And now, four days into this mess, she made the decision that she would have to adapt her plans if she wanted to survive this summer.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow. I'm going to travel the country with a friend until the end of summer." She declared out of the blue, during dinner on Friday evening, after being silent for over three hours. Originally she had planned to take day trips with Snape, and come back here in the evenings to spend the days in between excursions at her parents' house. But now she just wanted to have a decent enough reason to leave and stay gone for as long as possible. Perhaps forever.

"That's amazing, sweetie! I'm glad to hear you have plans." Her mom was the first to reply, smiling in what looked like sincere relief upon the prospect of having her daughter out of the picture at last.

The conflict growing between the American couple and Robin hadn't passed by her parents unnoticed, indeed they were as well aware of it as everyone else, but they had always made an effort not to get involved, always avoiding to possibly upset their guests, even when they had clearly crossed a line. To Robin, they had thereby picked their side, and it had never been hers.

"Traveling the country… Spending your parents' hard earned money, eh?" The scarecrow on the other side of the table scoffed in a too high pitched voice, and Robin had to make a conscious effort to keep her facade of perfect neutrality plastered onto her face. "If I was your mother, I would see to it that you find yourself a job and get working as soon as possible!"

"We offered to pay for her expenses, should she wish to spend the summer elsewhere, because we had to clear out her room for you." Robin's dad explained almost apologetically. "But it might as well be a belated gift for… two birthdays and two Christmases, I believe."

"Never coming home and then expecting to be paid for nonetheless…" The scarecrow made a face at Robin as she let out a scoff. "Children, they're all the same no matter where you are in the world. I know why I never wanted any."

Robin's jaw clenched for but a second, the only tell of her true emotions, but then she calmly went back to cutting her chicken into neat pieces of exactly the same size as she had previously cut her vegetables and potatoes as well. "I won't need any of your money, thank you for the offer nonetheless. I believe it would be best for everyone if I was… financially independent as soon as possible. I'm an adult, so I might as well pay for myself."

"Oh, you're one of those types." Scarecrow's husband mused in an unsuccessful attempt at subtle distaste. "Traveling around like a gypsy, always deep in someone's pocket for a dollar… The youth these days just doesn't know what work is anymore."

"Actually, I work hard and earn my money like everyone else does." Robin replied coldly, not even honouring the man with a glance. It was a very twisted version of the truth she was presenting here, but it would have to do. "Just because I attend a school quite far away from the larger cities doesn't mean there is no opportunity to make a living on the side."

"Yes, and we all know how pretty young girls can make a living the easiest way, don't we?" Scarecrow scoffed, and the entire table fell silent for a moment. Nobody dared to speak, and all eyes eventually sought out Robin, who in return was desperately glad for her years of practice in looking entirely indifferent. On the inside however, her mind was raging. How dared this woman to make such accusations, or even hint at something like that?! A small part of Robin wondered what would happen if she simply cursed everyone in the room, and took their memories of it afterwards. But instead, she settled for merely being silent and clinging onto the thought that she would be gone tomorrow.

"Do you by any chance work in a kitchen?" The third American, the only decent human being in the room and the only person Robin wasn't currently mad at, asked and thereby broke the uncomfortable silence. "Because I couldn't help noticing how adept you are at cooking. The dinner you made last night was amazing, and I've never seen someone so skilled with a knife."

"Thank you." Robin offered him a small smile, and inwardly thanked him for saving her from the ridiculous situation like that. "I really do sort of work in a kitchen, actually. For the past few years I have been trained quite a bit in addition to the normal school curriculum, to properly select and prepare ingredients for example, but by now, I actually get to make entire recipes by myself." Again, not a lie. Cooking and potion making were quite similar in a lot of ways, and she would shamelessly take advantage of that now.

"I didn't know you were training to become a chef." Robin's dad frowned at her, then shrugged and continued eating at last. "But I'm glad to hear that you are looking into a serious and decently paying career path. Not that… odd stuff they teach you at school."

"So, who's the friend you're going to be traveling with?" Her mom asked, changing the topic and the tension that had been hanging in the hair was resolved as the others continued with their meals as well.

"You wouldn't know him; someone I know from school." Was all Robin replied, but perhaps she should've thought better of it.

"A boy?! Excuse me, but I just have to intervene here again, entirely for your own good…" The scarecrow was quick to respond, and Robin cringed at every single part of the vile woman's sentence. "Just imagine how that might look to some people! A girl and a boy, traveling the country together all by themselves… Do you truly want to have such a poor reputation?! Just think about the disgrace it would be for your parents! Or for your future husband! People might assume you were dishonored!"

If that woman knew that Robin was going to travel with Snape, a man who was eleven years older than her and who used to be her professor until a week ago, she surely would combust in outrage, or faint in shock. Robin had to suppress a snort at the thought, and the idea of telling her suddenly became very tempting. But she wouldn't, as that would surely only end to her own disadvantage. After all, it would put reality into even more of a false light… they were still going to part ways in the evenings to meet up again on another day. Either way, Robin had quite enough of the woman sitting across from her at this point.

"Bold of you to assume that I have any honour left for him to take in the first place." She said nonchalantly, in perfect indifference, and while four jaws dropped just like intended, the nice American scientist merely let out a snort. At least one person understood the joke inherent in this bloody situation… Still, this probably hadn't been the smartest thing to say if she ever wanted them to stop bothering her, but as it seemed, her reputation among them had been ruined long before she had arrived here in the first place. And it was the truth after all; at almost eighteen, it wasn't unlikely that she would have a lot more experience than she actually did. It wasn't her fault that a hug was the only form of physical intimacy she'd ever lived to share with anyone… even Cas had more experience than that, and she was only fourteen! Not that this bothered Robin in any way… it was just a fact, and she might as well use it to her advantage at this point.

Dinner continued quietly from then on, and while the silence seemed to be uncomfortable for everyone else, Robin actually found herself feeling more at ease than she had all evening. When willingly allowing yourself to sink quite so low in someone's eyes, even if based on false information and half truths, the result for your own self was quite liberating. No reputation to uphold, no need to impress, nothing to justify. Honestly, she just should've done this from the start. But then again, she had still wanted her parents to pay for her travels at that point. Still had hoped that the boxes in the basement would be unpacked again eventually, once the esteemed guests were gone. Now however, the idea of cutting herself off from her parents entirely had a shocking appeal to it, and she couldn't quite bring herself to step back from it again. Didn't even want to. No, she still had some Christmas money left that she had saved over the years, and from there on she could find some sort of work to make ends meet. Tomorrow morning, she would take the boxes in the basement with her and leave for good.

… … …

If there had been any doubt left in her mind by Friday night if she actually should go through with it, it was blown away Saturday morning when the only thing saying goodbye to her was a note on the kitchen counter that told her to put the rubbish out before she left. Thus she spent the early hours of the day gathering everything that was hers and storing it away in her backpack, while also taking some minor things that surely wouldn't be missed around here. An old record player and a few of her favorite records (both which weren't used anymore), that chipped mug she had been using when she was here for as long as she could remember, but also a photo album that only had the first five pages filled with pictures of her as a baby and toddler. If this was all that would be left of her childhood other than her own memories, she wanted to be the one to have it. She added in a picture of her parents that had been in one of their own albums, then hid the entire thing very deep down in her bag, in a box of things she wanted to keep but still forget about.

When finally she shouldered her bag to leave, she didn't even feel sad. Only bitter and, in a way, deeply hurt that it had come this far. Perhaps it had been her fault, partially at least. Perhaps it had been inevitable. But if the last five days had proven anything, it was that they would be better off going separate ways from here on. Maybe one day, if by that time they still remembered that they'd had a daughter once, she would come back to visit them.

… … …

Half an hour later Robin sat high up on the cliff on the Scottish east coast where their first adventure had started last year, legs dangling over the edge against the stone wall that dropped down way too far, as she waited for Snape to show up. They would have to meet somewhere after all, and this place had seemed like a good idea. Both of them had been here before, it was practically deserted, and thus it was easy to find each other.

The wind whipping around her cleared some of the bitterness the morning had left, dried some silent tears, and it was a reminder of the bigger picture, a reassurance that her problems weren't the end of the world. As dark as things might seem, the planet was still spinning and the only way to move was forward. She took a deep breath, and when the sun broke through the clouds at last, she put on her sunglasses and let it warm her face for once.

"You're early… A bit excited, are we?" Snape remarked the very moment Robin heard him arriving somewhere behind her, and even just the sound of his voice made her smile in an instant.

"So are you, in case you haven't noticed." She replied, leaning back on her hands to look up at him upside down when he came to stand behind her. Surprisingly enough, he was clad in ordinary black bottoms and a simple long sleeved shirt of the same colour. "I think I've never seen you in anything other than those robes you always wear at school…"

"Yes, well, our last… expedition has proven my usual choice of clothing to be rather unsuitable for the occasion." He mused, and finally sat down next to Robin so closely that their shoulders almost touched. "That, and muggles tend to be irritated when one wears robes around them. Since we haven't decided where today will take us, I thought it best to be prepared."

"Clever. As always." Robin smirked, and he rolled his eyes at her using his own expression on him, which she however didn't mind one bit. "How was your week?"

"Dreadful. Yours?"

"Even worse."

"Good."

"Hey!" Robin protested with a laugh, then with a grin she just couldn't fight. "What's good about me being worse than dreadful for a week?"

"It means that no matter if we succeed in our goals today or not, it will still be a better day for you than the last few were."

"Of course it will be better! An infinite number of times better even! Spending time with you is better than anything, you dunderhead."

"Call me that one more time and I will shove you off the cliff."

"Shove me off the cliff and I'll pull you down with me."

"I expect nothing less. That is what I'm here for, after all." He stated with an expression that was too serious looking to actually be serious at all. The not-smirk was an even better tell of that.

"You're here to jump off a cliff?" Robin quirked an eyebrow at him with a teasing smirk.

"I'm here to make sure you aren't alone when you do."

"So if I jump, you will too?"

"I would rather keep either of us from doing something ridiculously stupid as that, but generally, yes." He said, and the fact that he actually seemed to mean every word of that sent a wave of electric sparkles all through Robin's body and mind. She couldn't even put into words how much she adored him for that, and how infinitely glad she was to have him with her. If this was what being his friend was like, she couldn't even imagine how it would be to be more than that. Then again, she shouldn't imagine it in the first place. They were friends. Best friends, but only friends. That had to be enough.

"Good to know." She finally replied, allowing herself to smile at least, so very brightly that he almost had to smile in return. "So… what theory are we looking into today?"

"Get out that handbook of yours and we shall see."

______________________________

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[enkelimagnus]

History

Bucky Barnes Gen, 2375 words, rated T

Jewish Bucky Barnes, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier: Episode 4 The Whole World is Watching

Bucky and Zemo find themselves talking about Sokovia, about family, and about where they come from.

TW: antisemitism mention

Read on AO3

Part 29 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

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

"Were there Jews in Sokovia?"

Zemo came back to himself an hour or two ago. He’s resting now, a damp towel on what must be a pounding headache. If Walker had been a supersoldier, Zemo would be dead. The shield, sent flying like that by someone on the serum would have broken his neck with the force of its slamming into his temple.

He wouldn’t be laying there, drinking glass after glass of something probably not recommended for someone with a concussion. He’s dosed himself on painkillers as well. Hopefully, he won’t die before the Dora Milaje arrive. If he died under Bucky’s watch, he doesn’t think he would ever be forgiven.

Bucky’s been staring at the windows for a while now, just… waiting for Zemo to start talking again. He grew bored of it. Even if the windows are beautiful and make him lose time in memories of his childhood shul and on the necklaces they all wore.

"It was an Eastern European country. Of course there were,” Zemo answers in that almost amused matter-of-fact tone of his. The same kind he used when he talked about Marvin Gaye. Now Bucky gets Sam’s “He’s out of line, but he’s right.” His voice is hoarse though, a clear sign of what he’s just gone through. Bucky finds himself slightly satisfied by that crack.

"Where was your family from?" Zemo asks. Perhaps it’s the same sort of question that led to that conversation in the plane. Bucky didn’t need to tell him he was Jewish after that.

"Romania."

Zemo nods quietly. "Ah. Not far, actually. Is that why you found a hiding place there before I flushed you out?"

That’s an interesting question, and Bucky shouldn’t be surprised he’s asking it.

"Not really." He didn’t know his family was Romanian until a couple of months in, until a mother’s lullaby triggered an avalanche of memories. “Followed some memories there.”

“What did they do? Your parents?”

Bucky huffs and turns towards him. “Why do you want to know?” He asks, jutting out his chin. He doesn’t know if he wants to talk to Zemo about that. But Zemo’s the only one who has ever asked. Steve didn’t need to. And no one else has spent long enough with Bucky to wonder.

“I am curious,” Zemo shrugged. “This is not a trick. I have nothing to gain by having this information. Your parents are dead. They cannot be used as leverage.”

“You sure know a lot about leverage, huh Zemo?” His answer is sarcastic, poking. The ghost of the tension from earlier in the day, the one that made Bucky let go of his tight leash of control to break one of Zemo’s expensive cups, hovers between them for a moment.

“I am a criminal,” Zemo hums. “A killer. And a Baron. Of course, I know a lot about leverage, James.”

At least he doesn’t hide from the truth. Bucky guesses that those eight years in solitary gave him time to self-reflect.

They both fall silent for a moment again. Zemo sips his whiskey. Bucky wishes he could get drunk. The minutes tick by. The Dora Milaje could come any time now. It’s hanging in the air with the tension, with the silence.

“You didn’t answer my question, James,” the man’s voice comes from the couch where he’s lounging. “What did they do?”

“My da worked in a journal in Romania. A Yiddishe one,” Bucky explains. “Worked in a printing factory in America. My ma helped sell the papers on the market. When she moved here and had us, she didn’t start working again until everything crashed and da died. I was working, but it wasn’t enough. We were four kids, and there was Steve, and his ma too, until she passed.”

He stops talking. He’s saying too much. Way too much. Zemo doesn’t need to know those things, he shouldn’t be talking about those things. It’s too personal, too intimate. Even Hydra didn’t know. Why is he telling Zemo?

Because Zemo’s going to the Raft. He’s going to be buried there and never come out, and he won’t be able to tell anyone. You could tell him what Steve tasted like, he wouldn’t be able to talk.

“What did your parents do?” Bucky asks, turning the question back on Zemo. It’s not the same, of course not. Bucky’s pretty sure he could find all the information about Heinrich Zemo readily available online.

“My father was a Baron and a businessman,” Zemo replies anyway, evenly. “He was also a sitting member of Hydra’s European branch.”

Bucky’s eyes snap to Zemo. He can’t see him, only the back of his head. Is he smug? Is he happy he got to push one of Bucky’s buttons this way?

“You didn’t meet him, I believe,” Zemo continues. “At least as far as I am aware.”

Bucky doesn’t reply. What is there to say, thanks?

“My mother was a housewife. She was a Baroness. She did charity events, talked to people, was beautiful at my father’s side. That was what they did. As for myself, I was, as you know, in the army. Before my service, however, I studied in Oxford, Philosophy, Politics and Economics, before interning in Berlin for two years. Only then, after much partying and drinking, did I settle and join the ranks.”

Bucky leans against the counter, huffing. “You wanna talk about yourself a bunch today, don’t you?”

“I was going to follow that with a question on your own Curriculum Vitae, James.”

“Why? Wanna hire me?”

Zemo chuckles, a puffy sound immediately followed by a sharp intake of breath. Pain, perhaps. That’ll teach him.

“Humor me?” he asks and for some reason, Bucky shrugs and decides to do so.

“Top student in Washington High School until ‘33, graduated early, started working. Making girls’ dresses. Working on the docs in the evening too,” Bucky recounts, sighing softly. “Got drafted. Deployed in ‘43. The rest you know.”

“No college despite being a so-called top student?” Zemo asks. Bucky can feel the airquotes in his voice.

Bucky huffs loudly. “We didn’t have that kind of money. We could have, without the crash. Could have gotten a scholarship, but it wasn’t… Da passed, and I had to make sure there was food on the table.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sure you’d be able to afford some sort of degree now.”

“Not an option.”

He’s not going to start explaining all the way Hydra fucked him up, how his attention span is shorter than it’s ever been except when a mission is involved, how his brain flips through languages constantly. How he would have issues handling the workload, the students around him. Crowded lecture halls would be terrible for his brain.

He doesn’t know what he wants to do after this.

Maybe just read books and go on runs and eat kugel and drink vodka. Those sound like good things to do.

"I saw Sokovia fall," Bucky says after a moment. "I was in Austria."

Zemo’s curious loose attitude shifts as Bucky says that.

“It made a big cloud,” Bucky keeps going. He doesn’t know why. “I barely had my mind, but I knew what I was seeing was world-ending. Catastrophic. Horrifying.”

“I was in Novi Grad for a chunk of the battle, before the city rose. And then I ordered my unit to run. To save their families if they could.” Zemo’s voice is quiet, tight with horrible grief. It’s been nine years and it’s still intense. Bucky guesses he hasn’t had anyone to talk about it with. It’s strange that it’s with him. “I was on the road to my father’s property when the city fell. Chunks of it fell around me, like terrible lethal snow.”

Bucky understands that. He remembers days on the front line in France, where the bombs falling from the sky almost looked like rain until they hit the ground and exploded and killed. Sometimes, at night, the lights in the sky were painfully beautiful.

“I have German citizenship, because of my mother’s own German citizenship. My father insisted I claim it, so I interned at the Bundestag for a couple of years in my twenties. Perhaps he was a visionary, perhaps he knew that one day Sokovia would come to fall and I wouldn’t be able to be Sokovian anymore. It’s strange.” He hums. “To know I do not have a home anymore.” There’s a pause. “Do you know what that feels like?” Zemo adds after a moment.

Bucky hums. “Borders change, political regimes fall. By all accounts, I’m American, but I spent more time in my life speaking Russian than I did speaking English. And yet, the Soviet Union has been gone for over thirty years. And I only learned that ten years ago. The America I grew up in is gone, too. So… I’m nothing. I’m nowhere.”

“Do you know what the strangest part of all of this is, James?” Zemo asks. “Sokovia is gone. In dust. There are no places I can go that still look the same as they once did. There are no buildings still standing. Their stones will one day be in museums, without context. It’s like it never existed, really. Memories are good, but they only last one lifetime, if that long.”

“In a hundred years, those memories will be gone,” Bucky finishes for him.

Zemo finishes his glass. “I’m the King of Sokovia,” he says then, and Bucky immediately wonders if they shouldn’t try to seek some sort of medical assistance.

“I’m royalty. The last living royal of Sokovia. I’m the King,” he explains. “King of ash, King of a memorial. King of the dead.”

“Yeah, I doubt Wanda Maximoff would accept you as King,” Bucky quips, and Zemo chuckles.

“Ah, the Maximoff girl,” he mutters. “Do you know just how many times her head was in the visor of my rifle?” He asks, and Bucky can hear the smirk, the predator’s grin in his voice. “When I was with EKO Scorpion, watching her and her anarchist friends… Do you know how many times I could have killed her?”

“Why didn’t you? Bucky asks with genuine curiosity.

“She wasn’t dangerous then. She was just a girl, an idealistic teenager. She hadn’t met Hydra yet. I had no reason to end her life.”

He shifts on the couch, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from God knows where on his person. He tosses it over to him. Bucky catches them, and the following lighter. He doesn’t ask why Zemo doesn’t take one. They’re cheap, from a Slavic brand. The tobacco blend is familiar to Bucky. His handlers used to smoke it.

The lighter is familiar too, a Zippo. It clicks and sounds like the hundreds of thousands Bucky has heard in his life.

“The Maximoffs were Sokovian Jews,” Zemo says after Bucky pulls the preliminary drag of his cigarette. White plumes wave over his face for a moment. “Wanda and Pietro wore the marks of their heritage for years on the front lines of their revolution.”

Bucky frowns a little. “I don’t remember it from the images, afterwards.”

“I can only guess they took it off when they joined Hydra,” Zemo points out. Bucky takes a hard long drag and the taste is like a ghost of Soviet pride. “Von Strucker was an antisemite.”

Bucky chuckles at that. Of course he was. “What a surprise,” he mutters sarcastically.

“He was not one of the hidden ones either,” Zemo points out. “He was quite loud about his opinions when he believed himself in the right circles.”

“You sure seem to know a lot about von Strucker’s views, Zemo,” Bucky says quietly.

“He was a Baron of Sokovia too. I saw him several times a year, for official occasions of the royalty, and informal meetings at my family’s estate for most of my life. He and I were not that far apart in age, I must admit we shared toys once upon a time, in palaces like the one Karli and her friends now occupy.”

The world is small, especially the kind of world Hydra, the Soldier and the Avengers lived in. Bucky doesn’t exactly believe that he never met Zemo’s father. He doesn’t know if he would remember it if he had. Unless he was given the man’s name in some way, he probably was nothing but another higher up, another possible handler, another persona had to obey.

“So your government knew Hydra was in Sokovia?” Bucky asks, pulling more on his cigarette, trying to parse out a timeline of events.

“The government was Hydra,” Zemo replies, his voice heavy. “It had been for decades. Truth is, I never knew Sokovia without Hydra encroaching on it like a tumor.”

Bucky shifts, humming quietly. Zemo’s hatred of Hydra is surprising now that he knows his father was. “Why aren’t you Hydra, then? If your family was?”

Zemo shrugs. He has that sharp intake of breath again, probably accompanied by a wince.

“When the main Hydra branch fell, in 2014, I was only 35,” he mutters. “I was getting invited to the parties, of course, as the heir of the Baron, but… I guess I was too green for these people. Contrary to Wolfgang, I didn’t share a lot of their ideals. Perhaps I did, as a youth, believe some of their lies… It is impossible not to take in some of your parents’ philosophy.”

Bucky huffs, shaking his head. “So what? You met a poor Jew once and it changed you?” He asks sarcastically.

Zemo shakes his head. “I don’t know. I couldn’t tell you. I don’t believe it was a singular event.”

He wouldn’t be the first rich kid to find some cause to care about as a rebellion from the parental authority. Bucky doesn’t say anything more about that. It’s not good to dwell on these things. What is going to come from confronting it anyway?

“Either way, let’s both be thankful I am not Hydra, yes?” Zemo shifts, standing back up slightly, to rest in a better direction.

Yeah. Let’s be thankful.

Sam comes in then with his computer and Bucky takes the opportunity to see himself in the bathroom, thinking everything over.