#and a few years ago i was crashing at a friend's place when i left my mom's house

[icharchivist]

thinking about how Hisoka started out not wanting any material things to help him sleep because he wanted to be able to fall asleep in any situation, even uncomfortable ones, and how Mankai gradually gifted him things to help him sleep, that he first was warry about but soon enough he started to collect

and the boy who started out with nothing in his corner of his room now has a good pillow, countless plushies, which he always considers is a perfect gift, expertise on good pillows, an eyemask for sleeping purpose, welcoming cozy blankets, and even appropriated himself the coffin in the storage room for perfect napping spot, coffin that he filled with pillows and plushies and find ways to keep locked shut so Tasuku doesn’t drag him out of it (or else he becomes evil on purpose), and now he gets to complain everytime someone slightly disturb his sleep.

He agreed on rooming with Homare because he had such a deep sleep that he would have in theory not been bothered by his loud behavior, and instead he grew more and more irritated with it the more people taught him about cocooning because now his sleep is sacred.

And the lonely “nothing allowed to sleep” rhetoric, was traded with “gotta be hugging something no matter what” which led him to have nap and cuddle buddies like Azuma.

And i think it’s really just a peak character arc, to be someone who denied himself all sort of little comfort to not get used to it, to then become an hedonist plushy bot constantly seeking comfort he’s now allowed and expected to have. As he deserves.

[witchywithwhiskey]

first and last

pairing: childhood best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: after more than a decade away from your home town—and your childhood best friend—you return. everything is exactly the same, but also, entirely different.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, angst, smut, drunken antics, some arguing, drunk masturbation (f) with an audience, semi-public, choking, dirty talk, praise kink, begging, boundaries, very light bdsm vibes, references to past sexual intimacy (piv sex, oral sex [f receiving]), nicknames (buttercup, baby), aftercare

word count: 8.8k

a/n: this is my entry in @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar Challenge, and i've been working on it since june so i'm very excited to post it!!! i wanted to make a sundae i'd actually eat so i used the prompts Butterscotch (childhood friends) and Caramel (drunk/delirious/not in their right mind). it also might be a bit literal to have Steve working at an ice cream shop but whatever!!

i mentioned when i teased this fic that i'd thought about turning it into a much longer story/potentially saving it for a novel, but honestly i just don't know when or if i'll ever have time to do that. but these scenes don't necessarily follow right after each other, so if they feel disconnected, that's why. they're just the ones i wanted to write 😅

The sidewalk of Brambleberry Cove was warm from a full day under the August sun, the concrete gritty with sand beneath your bare feet as you walked the rest of the short distance to Seaside Scoops from your rental house a few blocks away. 

The sun dipped low on the western horizon, casting long shadows over the coastal town like stretching fingers reaching for the Atlantic Ocean. You could hear the steady sound of the crashing waves over the near distant sand dunes, their rhythm a background to your walk. 

It could’ve been a peaceful moment—you were back in your home town, surrounded by familiar sights and sounds and smells. But you were in a wretched mood, and all you could focus on was everything wrong with the world and your current place in it.

There was, of course, the throbbing pain in your big toe from when you’d stubbed it moments ago on the cursed, charming sidewalk, as well as the slight sting on the sides of your foot where your flip flop straps had torn. Your ruined shoes dangled from your fingers because Brambleberry Cove didn’t have a trash can on every street corner like the city you were accustomed to living in. 

In addition to those grievances, the straps of your bathing suit—which you hadn’t worn in far too long and hadn’t realized had become too small—were digging into your shoulders and hips uncomfortably. And, though you’d only been walking for five minutes from the little bungalow you were renting, your thighs were already beginning to chafe beneath the simple dress you’d thrown on. 

All told, you were not in the mood to appreciate the simple beauty of Brambleberry Cove. Instead of admiring the sun-bleached cottages that gave way to the small coastal shops lining main street, and letting yourself sink into the comfort of being back in your tiny beachside home town, you were fixated on everything wrong in your life—both in that moment and the larger scheme of things.

In your defense, though, there was a lot wrong in your life. There’d had to be to get you back to your home town after so long away. 

There was the dream job you’d lost, the ex who’d left you for someone else, and the friends who’d all promised to be there for you, but then vanished when you actually needed help. The only people who’d come through for you were your parents, who’d had a friend willing to rent a little Brambleberry Cove bungalow to you for a fraction of its normal summer price since it was already August and they weren’t going to make much more money anyway. 

You’d had to pack up and leave the city where you’d built your life for 15 years, and move back to your home town, which you hadn’t seen in nearly that long since your parents had moved out west shortly after you’d graduated high school. Being back home made you feel like you weren’t only taking a single step backward, but moving leaps and bounds in the wrong direction. It made you feel like a failure. 

But you tried not to think about all that on your short walk to Seaside Scoops, instead focusing on the pain in your toe and the digging ache of your bathing suit. 

By the time you saw the familiar neon sign for the ice cream shop, it felt like finding an oasis in the desert. You picked up your pace, ignoring the way your body protested, the soles of your feet no longer used to walking on the sandy sidewalk like you’d done countless times growing up in Brambleberry Cove. 

You could see through the window that there was a short line in Seaside Scoops, and you hurriedly pushed through the door of the shop. Once inside, you breathed in the familiar scent of sugar and hot fudge and reveled in the feel of the air conditioner ghosting over your sun-warmed shoulders. 

Surreptitiously, you shoved your ruined flip flops into the garbage just inside the door and got in line behind the couple with their two small children. You glanced around the shop, not really taking it in, and hoped whoever was working behind the counter was still lax on the ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ rule that had theoretically been in place since before you were born—but had never been enforced in practice. 

Finally looking to the counter, wondering idly if you’d recognize who was working or if it’d be some local teen that had been a baby the last time you’d been to Brambleberry Cove, you were shocked to see who was working at Seaside Scoops. Your belly swooped like you were standing on a boat on the choppy sea, your heart racing when you recognized the man behind the counter. At one time, he’d been the boy you’d shared so much of your childhood with, so many of your summers with. 

When you got a good look at him, you were almost surprised you recognized him so fast. He was no longer the scrawny teenager you’d left behind when you’d gone off to college and never looked back. He looked so different from the boy you’d known well enough you could recall his face in perfect detail, but, in so many ways, exactly the same.

On the whole, it was a shock to see the man Steve Rogers had become. 

Sandy brown hair fell on either side of his handsome, suntanned face, swept back like he had a habit of running his hands through it countless times a day. A short, well-kept beard decorated his strong jaw, bracketing a set of soft pink lips that were curved in a devastating grin. His bright blue eyes sparkled beneath the fluorescent lights of the shop, and when he spoke to the family in front of you in line, his voice rumbled like the distant roar of the ocean.

Seeing Steve Rogers for the first time in over 15 years made something loosen in your chest, anxiety uncoiling from around your heart and shaking free for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety and comfort washed over you, and you had the sudden thought that this was how you were supposed to feel about coming home. 

But you shoved that thought aside and continued your perusal of your childhood best friend, making note of all the ways he’d changed from the boy you’d known.

Thick, golden biceps were bare and bulging beneath the edge of his white t-shirt, and dense, brown hair covered corded forearms as Steve folded his arms on top of the ice cream case. He was tall—tall enough to lean over the case to talk to the kids with the couple in front of you, asking them about their favorite ice cream flavors and if they’d like to try anything new.

The kids, a boy and a girl, both stared up at him with wide eyes, shyness and wonder clear in their twin expressions. They looked to their parents for permission before shyly revealing what flavors they’d like to try. Steve gave a deep, hearty chuckle at their timidness, and complimented them on their choices, which seemed to make them both loosen up a bit.

Inexplicable heat flushed through your body at the sound of Steve’s deep laughter, and the easiness with which he interacted with the kids. You’d never been particularly good with children, mainly because you’d never had much of a chance to interact with any, and you’d never felt any particular desire to be around them. But seeing Steve looking like he did talking to those kids made your belly swoop again and something inside you pulse with a need you didn’t want to fully unpack.

Shoving those thoughts into a box in the back corner of your mind, you forced yourself to look away from your childhood friend and up at the menu that listed all the ice cream flavors. You’d been to Seaside Scoops hundreds of times in your life, if not thousands, and, at one time, you’d had the list memorized. 

Hopefully you still had that knowledge tucked away somewhere in your brain, because you weren’t taking in anything you were reading as you not-so-patiently waited for Steve to finish up with the customers in front of you.

It felt like forever, and by the time the family took their cups and cones of ice cream toward the side door that opened up into an outdoor seating area, you’d already cycled through three rounds of the same argument with yourself about why you should leave Seaside Scoops without talking to Steve. You couldn’t imagine your first conversation in 15 years going well.

But you couldn’t leave without talking to him. Not when he was right there and it had been so long and you were dying to know everything that he’d done in the last 15 years since you saw him last. 

Still, it took you a few extra seconds to gather the courage to lower your eyes from the menu board and finally look at your childhood friend. When you did, your gaze caught immediately on Steve’s, and your heart gave a little flip at the devastatingly charming smile on his impossibly handsome face.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, his tone as friendly and familiar as it had always been. All of a sudden, it felt like no time had passed at all. 

“Hi, Steve,” you said, trying for the same casualness he’d achieved, but your voice sounded faint and faraway in your ears. The corners of your mouth flickered in a tremulous smile.

You couldn’t understand the surge of emotion filling your chest and rising in your throat, pricking at the backs of your eyes like you wanted to throw yourself into your oldest friend’s arms and sob about everything wrong in your life. 

The same deluge of emotion had hit you when you’d stubbed your toe on your walk to Seaside Scoops and you’d had to stand there by yourself, sucking in deep breaths of salty Brambleberry Cove air, nails biting into the flesh of your palms to keep yourself from breaking down. 

Just as you’d done then, you beat back the emotion, blinking your eyes rapidly to rid them of tears. Still, a thought needled you as you stood across the counter from Steve—the knowledge that if you did let yourself break down and cry, he wouldn’t hesitate to fold you into that broad chest of his, wrapping you up in his thick arms and holding you so securely, the world might not seem so grim anymore. 

You chalked it up to nostalgia and the rough time you were having, forcing yourself to take a deep breath and paste on a bright smile. Casting your eyes around Seaside Scoops, you pretended to give the place a real look, though you didn’t really notice much as you continued to blink back tears. 

“You work here now?” you asked lightly, looking at the new standee in the corner.

It was a cartoon shark holding up a sign advertising Seaside Scoops and their many ice cream flavors. But what caught your eye was that it looked a bit like the shark Steve had drawn for you when you’d gotten a bad grade sophomore year and wanted to cheer you up. It even had the same little sailor hat sitting perched on top of his head—which only made sense because sharks didn’t have blowholes, he’d told you at the time.

You’d smiled then, and you smiled again remembering it.

“Uhh,” Steve started, and you turned tear-free eyes back on your old friend, your gaze drawn to the way his bicep bulged against the sleeve of his t-shirt as he scuffed the back of his neck. There was a little bit of a sheepish tinge to his smile. “I actually own Scoops now,” he said in a rush, like he was confessing to something, though you couldn’t imagine what. “I bought it when Mr. Wallace retired down to Florida.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say, glancing around the ice cream shop with a keener eye.

The shark standee wasn’t the only new thing in the place. Everything, from the tables and chairs to the menu board and counter, looked slightly newer than you remembered. Nothing was wildly different, which was why you hadn’t noticed it when you first looked around. Everything just looked better than it should if it had aged a decade since you’d last stepped into the shop.

Something about it made you think Seaside Scoops looked exactly like your memory of it—but the polished, perfect version in your head, instead of the place as it had been. Yellowed with age and a lack of upkeep. It was genuinely astounding what Steve had done with the place and it took you a few moments to find the right words, though they still felt pale in comparison to the bittersweet nostalgia in your heart.

“The place looks great,” you said with a half smile as you turned back to Steve. A small thread of pride wormed through your heart at seeing what your oldest friend had accomplished and your smile widened when he brightened under your praise. “I like the shark,” you said, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the standee. 

A bit of pink tinted Steve’s cheeks above his beard, and he cleared his throat. 

“Is a dipped twist still your favorite?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject and your smile dimmed just a little. The Steve you’d known had been shy about showing his art to anyone but you, and it seemed that you’d been gone long enough to be lumped in with everyone else. 

You swallowed back a lump in your throat and nodded. “Yeah, that’s still my favorite,” you answered, more than a little surprised Steve remembered your order.

Sure, you’d gone to Seaside Scoops together countless times as kids. It had been your hangout spot for most of your childhood, and even into your teen years. You’d study together over a cup of cookie dough with sprinkles for Steve and a cone of vanilla and chocolate softserve dipped in chocolate sauce for you. But that was more than a decade ago.

Your heart gave a heavy squeeze when you remembered the night before you’d left Brambleberry Cove, the way Steve reminded you of the promise you’d made as children—that you’d always be friends. Your stomach twisted into knots as you were confronted with the reality that you hadn’t kept up your end of the deal. You’d left, and you’d allowed your oldest friend to become a stranger. 

You wondered if Steve remembered the promise you’d made, the reminder he’d given you as a parting gift, or if he’d forgotten. You wondered if he’d ever want to be friends again.

Steve’s back was to you, his wrist flicking expertly beneath the softserve machine as he filled up a sugar cone with the twist of chocolate and vanilla. You forced yourself to push aside the memories of the past, blinking back more tears before Steve could catch them in your eyes. 

You and Steve weren’t friends anymore, and you needed to accept that. It was unreasonable to hold him to a promise he’d made more than two decades ago, especially when you were the one who’d left and had barely tried to stay in touch between college classes and exploring your new city.

With a great amount of effort, you kept your mind blissfully blank as you let your gaze trail idly over Steve’s broad back, unable to stop yourself from noticing just how wide his shoulders were, or the way they moved beneath the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt. He really did fill out the shirt well, his sides tapering down to a thin waist. And his ass looked particularly good in the curve-hugging denim of his jeans. 

As Steve turned around, you raised your eyes quickly and arranged your expression into one of innocence. Steve paused, giving you a shrewd look like he would’ve done when you were teenagers and you were hiding something from him, but then he just shook his head and laughed under his breath, turning to the chocolate sauce where he’d dip your ice cream cone. 

“So, what brings you back to Brambleberry Cove, buttercup?” Steve asked, his gaze focusing on dipping your ice cream just right, a look of determination on his face that was endlessly endearing. 

You grimaced at the exact moment he glanced up at you, and he chuckled at the face you made. The sound was smooth as warm caramel and sent a new wave of heat rolling down your spine. 

“That bad, huh?” he asked, genuine interest in his tone.

Although there was a point in your life when you could’ve told Steve anything, and the urge to do so still lingered deep in your bones, you knew your relationship was different. You couldn’t dump all your problems on your childhood friend after not talking to him for 15 years. You didn’t even know if you were still friends anymore. 

Plus, there was a small crowd gathering behind you as the late dinner rush started to filter into Seaside Scoops. Even if you’d wanted to tell Steve everything that had happened to you in the 15 years since you’d last seen him, it wasn’t the time. 

So you just gave him a sad smile and accepted the ice cream cone from Steve’s hand, ignoring the butterflies and ticklish warmth that fluttered through your body at his touch. You gripped the sugar cone tight—but not too tight—so you didn’t fumble it. 

“Yeah,” you whispered in answer to his question, leaving it at that. There was an awkward beat, and your eyes dropped to the ice cream that was already beginning to melt despite the air conditioning in the shop. Thankfully, you had an easy way to move past Steve’s questions. 

You pulled some cash from the wristlet where you’d also stashed your phone and I.D., asking, “What do I owe you?” because you figured it must’ve been more expensive than what you remembered. And you didn’t want to risk looking up at the menu and catching Steve’s eye, not wanting any of the emotions or heat that seemed to flood you whenever you looked at him.

But a large, warm, golden hand closed over your fumbling fingers, startling you enough to look up into the sky blue eyes of your childhood friend. Your lips fell open in surprise as tingling warmth worked its way up your arm from your hand, wrapping around your heart and making it beat harder. 

For a long moment, you simply stared at each other. Steve really had grown up and changed so much, the evidence in the weathered grooves of his forehead and the lines between his brows, but his eyes still looked the same—soft as clouds, warm as the summer sun. 

“It’s on the house,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest, the thrum of some emotion you couldn’t identify laced through his words. “It was nice to see an old friend,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze before he pulled his away.

It wasn’t until Steve straightened up to his full height that you realized he’d been leaning over the counter, and your faces had been very close together. Heat crept into your cheeks at the realization that Steve had been in your personal space, and all you’d thought about was his eyes. 

Shoving all the money in your hand into the tip jar, you muttered, “Thanks, Steve.” As you zipped up your wristlet, you noticed that some of your ice cream was in danger of dripping onto your hand.

Without thinking, you licked quickly around the edge of the sugar cone, a soft moan slipping free when the cool sweetness of the ice cream hit your brain.

Steve made a strangled sound that dragged your attention away from your treat, finding your childhood best friend looking away and coughing into his fist, a deeper pink flushing his cheeks. You quirked your eyebrow in confusion when he looked back at you, but his expression gave nothing away and you had to wonder if you’d imagined the noise. It had almost sounded…aroused.

Shaking that thought clear from your mind, you gave Steve a smile and began to step away from the counter so he could help the next customer.

Steve’s eyes lingered on you, and he offered you one last charming, friendly smile, raising his hand in a wave. “Don’t be a stranger, buttercup,” he rumbled, his low words managing to reach your ears over the chatter in the shop. He gave you a long look, emotion swirling in those familiar eyes of his, and your breath caught in your throat.

The intensity of his gaze and the warmth in his parting words hit you straight in the gut, and you stood stunned in front of the register while Steve turned and walked to the other end of the ice cream case to help the next people in line. 

For a long moment, you couldn’t get over the way Steve had been able to read your mind, to pluck the thought that you were strangers to each other out of your brain and then tell you he didn’t want that to be the case. Your mind raced with questions. Did he still think of you as friends? Did he remember the promise you’d made all those years ago to always be friends? How did he know the exact right thing to say? 

But then the rational side of your brain resurfaced from wherever your heart had momentarily buried it, and you remembered his farewell was a normal thing for people to say to each other. Especially people who hadn’t seen each other in a while and likely would again because they both lived in a very small town. That’s all it was, just a normal goodbye. 

Not Steve Rogers somehow reading your mind because he knew you so well. 

With those rationalities ringing in your head, you dashed out of Seaside Scoops and it wasn’t until your feet had carried you to the next block that you remembered your broken shoes and stubbed toe and chafed thighs. 

But those problems didn’t seem quite so bad anymore. Not with the delicious ice cream cone in your hand, and the sunset casting Brambleberry Cove in gorgeous, golden light—and especially not with Steve’s warm, honeyed voice ringing in your head, calling you buttercup. 

It had felt so normal to hear the nickname roll off Steve’s tongue that you hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’d last heard it. But, just as it had when you were younger, it filled your chest with a bright, golden warmth. You grinned to yourself as you strolled back to your little bungalow, licking up the melting ice cream as fast as you could.

Your mood was decidedly better, and you enjoyed the walk home, refusing to think too much about why exactly you felt lighter and happier and less miserable about being home in Brambleberry Cove than you had before going to Seaside Scoops. It was just the ice cream, obviously. There was no other reason.

“You’re staring.” Steve’s voice was low, the undercurrent of laughter in it almost mixing with the sounds of the distant waves. You could hear them through the open windows of his truck as he eased the vehicle down the winding road leading away from the docks on the north side of Brambleberry Cove. 

His comment dragged you out of your drunken haze, and you took a deep breath to get your bearings. Your lungs filled with the salty nighttime air of the sea and the earthy leather interior of your childhood best friend’s truck, a small smile curling the corners of your lips and your eyes sliding closed. When you forced them back open, you realized he was right.

Huh, you really were staring at Steve. 

Your head was swiveled to the side, your cheek pressed to the brown leather of the seat back, your eyes fixed on the profile of his face that was highlighted in the glossy silver of the moon and warmed by the golden light of the town’s street lamps. 

You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed or ashamed for staring at Steve, though. And it was at that moment you realized you were drunk. 

It didn’t surprise you. After all, you were the one who’d thrown on some jean shorts and a cute top and then took yourself to Shanty’s, the only place in Brambleberry Cove to go if you were a local looking to avoid tourists. 

You’d been happy to see Bucky Barnes, your other oldest friend after Steve, manning the bar. But you’d been much less happy with him when he’d insisted on calling Steve to take you home after you’d downed more than your fair share of liquor. 

It was probably for the best, though. You were drunk and horny and if you weren’t careful, you would’ve gone home with Brock Rumlow. Just thinking about it made you grimace at yourself and your poor almost-decisions. 

Focusing back on Steve, you couldn’t fault Bucky too much for calling your old friend to pick you up—not when it had ended with you able to watch his side profile while he kept his eyes on the road. It felt practically shameful to indulge yourself so much. That is, if you’d had any shame left, but you’d drowned it all in alcohol.

“You’re still staring, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, the humor clearer in his tone. The edges of his mouth were flickering beneath the silvery golden light of Brambleberry Cove at night and you knew he was trying to suppress a smile. It was fascinating to watch, but then Steve rubbed his hand across his mouth, scrubbing through his beard, and it broke you free of your drunken trance.

“I just can’t get over how different you look,” you huffed, raising your arms and flopping them back against the seat in your best approximation of a shrug. “And how exactly the same.” 

Steve barked a laugh, the sharp sound bringing a smile instantly to your face. You’d never heard him laugh like that, and you couldn’t help but love that you were still discovering new things about him, even after knowing him all your life. 

He glanced over at you, his expression bemused like he was sure you were drunker than he’d thought. You probably were, but that didn’t stop you from being right, and you tried to convey that in the brief moment he looked at you. 

Steve’s gaze slid quickly down your body, not like he was checking you out—more like he was checking to make sure your seatbelt was still buckled and you weren’t in danger of doing anything ridiculous. You were only in danger of saying ridiculous things, at least, according to him apparently. He shook his head after he’d turned back to watching the road.

“You’re gonna have to explain that one to me, buttercup,” Steve said, a little bit of gruffness in his tone. He cleared his throat before he went on. “Usually when someone we went to high school with comes back, they tell me they never woulda recognized me.” 

You gave an unladylike snort, drawing another surprised laugh out of Steve before he bit off the sound to let you speak.

“Well those people should have their eyes checked,” you muttered scornfully, pushing yourself up from where you’d been slumped against the warm leather seat. You twisted your body in your seat so you were facing Steve, your eyes tracing the lines of his face from across the cab. “You still have the same eyes,” you pointed out vehemently, as if Steve was arguing with you, even though he wasn’t. “And your nose still has that little bump in it, and your lips are still so soft and full…”

You trailed off, realizing far too late that you were saying your inside thoughts out loud. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you watched Steve as he processed what you’d said—the way his fingers scratched a little nervously at his beard, those twin lines forming between his brows. Your gazed traced every curve and line and divot in his face, examining his expression, wanting to memorize it and save it for the rest of your life. 

“I don’t think any of those people noticed those things,” Steve murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the slight breeze drifting through the windows while he drove through town. 

Your heart lurched at the implication of Steve’s words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take them back, even if they were dangerously close to revealing something you hadn’t even had the courage to admit to yourself yet. 

Instead, you focused on your anger at the hypothetical people who weren’t recognizing Steve just because he’d grown up, gotten tall, gotten buff, grown out his hair and his beard and looked altogether very different to the skinny teenager he’d been.

“If they didn’t see those things, they didn’t really see you,” you muttered to yourself, indignant on Steve’s behalf, but trying to keep it to yourself. Apparently, you weren’t good at moderating the volume of your voice, because Steve snorted at your remark. 

“No, no one ever saw me as well as you did, buttercup,” Steve said, his voice low and warm, and your heart promptly rioted in your chest. 

There was something so dizzyingly wonderful about hearing Steve say such intimate words to you in that deep, caramel voice of his, genuine affection shining through his tone. It took your breath away for a moment, and your brain short-circuited. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him…something. The thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself yet. But you were still you, and your brain tripped at the last moment, and instead you blurted, “Do you ever think about our first time?”

Steve choked on a snort, his eyes darting to you with honest surprise. You couldn’t blame him. You’d had no idea those words were gonna spill from your mouth until they were out, but you supposed they weren’t as bad as what you’d almost confessed, so you didn’t try to take them back or change the topic of conversation. You waited with bated breath for Steve’s response, and whether he remembered your night together when you were both 18.

When he saw you were anticipating his answer, he spluttered, “You mean when I came three seconds after getting inside you?” 

You began to smile, because he remembered, but then Steve continued talking.

“Y’know, I told Bucky about that once,” he said, his eyes fixed so fully on the road that you got the impression he didn’t want to meet your gaze and your stomach plummeted. “I was drunk, and didn’t know if it really counted as sex. Bucky was no help, of course—he said he didn’t know either since it was so quick.” 

Something new was swirling in your gut, and for long moments you could only sit there on the warm leather of the truck and stew in that hot, feral feeling. It must’ve showed on your face because, when Steve finally looked over at you after you’d been quiet for so long, the truck lurched forward, his foot pressing too hard to the gas.

“Don’t worry,” he rushed to say, guessing at what was upsetting you and guessing wrong. “I didn’t tell him it was with you.”

“Don’t you dare,” you snarled, the words bursting out of you with a ferocity you’d never used in your life, let alone when talking to Steve. But you were furious all of a sudden, and it wasn’t until the words were spilling from your mouth that you understood why you were so angry. “Don’t you dare try to take this away from me, Steven Grant Rogers.” Your voice was seething and barely recognizable, but you couldn’t stop. “You were my first, and it was perfect—because it was you.” 

Steve glanced over at you, something like shock written across his face, but when he looked back at the road, his brows settled low over his eyes. The muscle in his jaw popped and you knew he was grinding his teeth together, taking his time to gather his thoughts before he spoke. It took him a long moment to respond.

“You deserved better.”

The noise of your scoff was loud, even to your ears, and you strained against the seatbelt still buckling you into the passenger seat as you leaned toward your childhood friend.

“You ate me out until I came three times, Steve!” you cried, holding up three fingers as if the adult man your friend had grown into somehow didn’t know how many three was. “No man has ever made me come so many times in one night as you did then.” 

When Steve still didn’t look at you, just kept driving with his hands gripping the wheel and the muscle in his jaw popping, you huffed an exasperated sound and flopped back into your seat. Your back was to the leather as you crossed your arms over your chest and stared out at Brambleberry Cove through the open passenger side window. 

The silence grew until it was suffocating, and you needed to break it. So you said the first thing that came to mind. Again.

“You’re who I think about when I touch myself, Steve.” Your words drifted from your side of the truck to the other, carried on the light breeze floating through the cab. “I think about you and that night, and it gets me off every single time.”

Steve made a strangled kind of sound, like a growl that was torn free from his throat against his will. Then he was quiet, and he was quiet for so long, you thought that was the only reaction you’d get to admitting the truth. Until…

“I think about you, too, buttercup.”

The confession hung in the air between you, settling heavily onto the leather bench seat in Steve’s truck, the air rushing in through the open windows buffetting around it. 

You didn’t feel Steve’s admission sink into you. There was simply a before and an after. And in the after, you were moving. You were unbuckling your seatbelt and scooting across the seat toward Steve until your bare knee brushed against the denim of his jeans. 

He shot a startled look in your direction—which, in a distant part of your brain, you registered as completely adorable—before quickly pulling over to the side of the road. He was just throwing the truck into park when you slid into his lap, straddling his thighs and pressing your chest to his. 

“We should do it again,” you purred, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning close. When Steve didn’t respond right away, just kept giving you that surprised look, you thought he might not have understood you, so you explained, “Have sex.”

Steve closed his eyes and a light tremor shuddered through his body as his hands settled respectfully on your waist, a few of his fingers brushing the skin where the edge of your tank top didn’t quite meet the waist of your shorts. Then, it was your turn to shudder, the feeling of his warm, calloused hands against your bare skin making heat flood between your thighs, your core warming and your body melting into your old friend’s hands.

“Please, Steve,” you whispered, tipping your head forward until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his, so close you could taste mint chocolate chip ice cream on his tongue and it took everything in you not to lick into his mouth desperately. Your voice was practically a whine as you went on, “Let’s see if we can do better this time.” 

Steve’s hands shifted to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to almost hurt, and you thought he was going to give in. But then he swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and he pushed you gently away, his head tilting back against the leather seat so your lips no longer teased him with an almost-kiss.

“You’re drunk, buttercup.”

Steve’s voice was a delicious rasp, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of it even as the meaning of his words settled into your drunken mind. You pouted at your childhood friend, hoping the fact that he hadn’t pushed you off his lap entirely meant he wasn’t saying no.

“And horny,” you said, the words slipping from your lips on another whine. Of their own volition, your hips squirmed on your oldest friend’s lap, trying to get closer, trying to find some kind of friction to work against the aching heat pulsing between your thighs. But Steve’s firm grip held you in place. “Stevie.” His name was nothing but a pathetic whimper. 

A low growl rumbled in Steve’s chest, and then one of his hands was abandoning your hip to cup your face, tilting it up so he could loom over you. The lines of his face were hard, stubborn, and the look in his eyes left no room for argument. 

“You know I won’t touch you when you’re drunk,” he bit out, his voice soft, but as firm as his hold on your body.

A memory slammed into you—you and Steve planning your first time together. You’d made a deal at the start of high school that if neither of you lost your virginity through all four years, then before going off to college, you’d lose it together. 

When the time came, you’d been a little nervous, even though it was Steve, and you’d joked that you could take some wine coolers to the beach and get it over with, just like all the other kids in your school. Even then, Steve had looked at you stubbornly, and said, without a shred of willingness to waver, that he wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk.

Back then, it had sent a shiver down your spine, and it had much the same effect more than a decade later in his truck. Your body trembled with arousal, and you pushed feebly against Steve’s hold—not really trying to break it, just enjoying the feeling that came from realizing how strong he was. Those biceps and corded forearms of his weren’t just for show.

“What about just the tip?” you murmured, the words tumbling past your lips before you could think better of them, knowing there was no use trying to argue with Steve when he’d made a decision. But you were clearly thinking with something other than your brain, because the words kept coming. “That’s not sex, just the tip—please, Steve.” You were begging shamelessly, but your shame and embarrassment were still nowhere to be found since you were still definitely drunk.

Steve’s jaw ticked so hard, you could’ve sworn you heard the muscle pop in the quiet of his truck as he ground his teeth together. 

“Buttercup,” he growled, a warning in his tone. “That’s not happening.”

Your fists gathered in the front of Steve’s t-shirt and you yanked on it restlessly, not trying to do anything more than annoy him. “Whyyy,” you whined, drawing out the word until it was nearly a wail. Unslaked heat burned in your blood and, while you knew why he was refusing to have sex with you, in the moment, you couldn’t understand why your oldest friend was torturing you.

Steve’s hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around the front of your throat, and you stilled immediately, something about the possessive, dominant gesture making you calm. That was new, Steve hadn’t done anything like that when you’d first been together, but you liked it more than you would’ve expected. Your lips were still parted, your panting breaths gusting out of them, your heart racing, and you were finally calm and quiet.

Your oldest friend’s eyes roamed over you, taking in your reaction. At first he seemed surprised, but then a glint of something you’d never seen before sparked to life in the depths of his blue eyes. You watched his gaze drop to your mouth, and nearly whimpered at the way the corner of his lips flickered in the ghost of a smirk. But then he fixed his gaze back on yours, pinning you in place with that stubborn look in his eye, though it was slightly dimmed in favor of that new, hungry glimmer. 

“I won’t fuck you only to wake up tomorrow and find out you regret it,” Steve said, enunciating all his words clearly despite the fact that his teeth were grinding together “That you only wanted it because you needed to scratch an itch.” 

Your lungs dragged in a soundless gasp and you finally understood his reticence, even if you couldn’t imagine ever regretting doing anything with Steve. But when you opened your mouth to protest, Steve’s fingers squeezed the sides of your throat. 

Your words died on your tongue, and your mouth went slack, your eyes going hazy with pleasure. You couldn’t have been more obvious that you liked the way Steve choked you if you tried. And he read your enjoyment easily from the expression on your face, that look of hunger sparking brighter in Steve’s eyes before he went on.

“When I fuck you again,” he growled, his words a promise. “I don’t want you drunk on anything but my cock.”

“Stevie,” you whined his nickname again, the name only you were allowed to call him, your lips forming into a pout. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he’d said ‘when’, and not ‘if’, about having sex with you again, but you didn’t want to push your luck. And besides, unslaked need was still burning brightly through your body, consuming most of your focus. “I need…something, please.” You let out a little whimper and squirmed in his lap again, unable to stop yourself.

Steve huffed a laugh, his thumb stroking down the side of your neck, over your thrumming pulsepoint, while the fingers of his other hand slipped half an inch into the waist of your shorts, only far enough to dig harder into your soft curves.  

“I’m not going to touch you more than this, buttercup,” Steve began, his voice a low, delicious rumble that you swore you could feel in the clenching of your core. “But I didn’t say anything about stopping you from touching yourself.”

Your eyes widened in excitement, and you wasted no time in acting on the implication in Steve’s words. Holding his gaze, one of your hands slipped free from his shirt and trailed down your body. When you reached between your thighs, the backs of your fingers brushed against a thick bulge in the front of Steve’s jeans. 

It twitched against your soft touch, and you gasped in delight, loving the proof that Steve’s body recognized you just as much as his mind.

But when you twisted your hand, intent on giving Steve’s bulge a friendly squeeze, his hand darted down from your hips to your wrist, his fingers circling around you and stilling your hand. “Buttercup,” he rumbled, another warning. 

A shiver raced down your spine and you reveled in the way it made you feel to hear Steve say your nickname like that. It occurred to you that it was new—you’d never heard him say it quite like that before, with frustration and arousal flooding his tone. 

You wanted to hear every flavor of your nickname on Steve’s tongue. You wanted to hear him whisper it like a prayer, and groan it into your lips while he kissed you. You wanted to hear Steve shout your nickname while he came with you. 

But the look in Steve’s eyes was stubborn again, and you knew you’d have to wait to hear all the ways he could say your nickname. 

“OK, Steve, ‘m sorry,” you mumbled, twisting your hand in his hold and pressing the tips of your fingers to the seam of your shorts, your hips jerking forward to seek more of the friction you offered yourself. 

Steve’s hold loosened, but he didn’t let go of you entirely, like he didn’t trust you just yet. But you didn’t care, your fingers were pressing into your clit through the thin denim of your shorts, and you were rocking your hips to grind against them, your wetness soaking through your panties almost immediately.

The moment when your fingers found just the right spot, you sucked in a sharp breath, your spine arching and your hips pressing down hard against your hand. Your head tipped back, your eyes narrowing into slits as you held Steve’s gaze. You moaned while you rubbed tight circles against your clit through your shorts.

“I’m going to come embarrassingly fast,” you huffed in warning, your chest heaving already with labored breaths. 

But Steve only smirked, a touch of smugness in the curve of his lips.

“Don’t worry, buttercup, I remember exactly how sensitive your sweet little clit is,” he rumbled, and you moaned loudly. His fingers flexed against your throat, digging in enough to quiet your sounds and making your eyes widen as your hips lurched in their rhythm. He chuckled at your reaction before continuing on.

“I remember sucking on your puffy little pearl, your thighs squeezing my head, my fingers buried deep in your tight, warm hole,” Steve purred, seemingly knowing exactly what to say to drive your pleasure higher. “I remember the exact way your pussy gripped my fingers when you came, like you wanted me deeper—deep enough that you could feel me in your belly.” 

“God, Steve,” you groaned, your head falling back listlessly on your shoulders, too heavy to keep it up. But Steve’s fingers dug into the back of your neck, and you understood the wordless command immediately. You lifted your head and caught your oldest friend’s eye while you kept rubbing your clit, pushing yourself closer to coming apart in his lap. 

“I remember how big your cock felt inside me,” you confessed, spurred on by Steve’s own filthy words. “I remember how long it took for you to sink your thick, fat cock into my tight pussy.” You paused only to take a quick, hitching breath. “I was already so close when you came, and I remember, I thought, maybe if you hadn’t been wearing a condom, maybe I would’ve come, too.” 

The lines of Steve’s face shifted, hardening, his jaw ticking wildly and his eyes going molten fierce, like the blue at the center a campfire that burns too hot to sit near. 

“Don’t fucking say that, buttercup,” Steve growled, his voice gravelly like he was chewing on seashells. “If I hadn’t been wearing a condom, I would’ve come so much faster—I never woulda made it all the way inside you. Woulda been coming with just my tip inside your warm, wet pussy, baby—woulda been too risky, buttercup.” 

Your eyes wanted to fall closed as you moaned, but you didn’t let them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Steve, not with that furious and ferocious hunger in his eyes, his desire for you etched into every single line and curve of his face. 

You were so close. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.

“Fuck, Steve, I know I shouldn’t, but I love the thought of you coming inside me, filling me up, making me yours,” you confessed, the words bubbling up from the very depths of your soul. It was on the tip of your tongue again, that thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself. Instead of letting it free, you moaned, long and loud, your fingers rubbing faster against your clit and your hips grinding against your hand. 

“Christ, baby,” Steve gritted through tightly clenched teeth. His fingers were digging into your hip again, diving further beneath the waist of your shorts, nearly skimming the edge of your panties. His other hand tightened around your throat and dragged you into him, until your face was right in front of his and he could watch every twitch and change in your expression as you pleasured yourself. 

“Come on, baby,” he said, his voice urgent with need. “Come before I do something we’ll both regret.” 

The hand that wasn’t wedged between your thighs pressed to the center of Steve’s chest, just above his heart, and a moment later, you felt his warm palm cover it. He was still holding your throat, his fingers digging into the sides hard enough that you knew he could feel your fluttering pulse beneath his touch. And you could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, the rapid pace nearly matching the frantic one in your chest.

“Come, buttercup, come for me,” Steve commanded, his eyes holding yours. For a moment, it felt like he could see straight into your soul. It was a scorching intimacy you hadn’t felt since that night you’d first been with Steve, and you were helpless to it.

“Stevie,” you cried his name as your pleasure rose up and consumed you, sending you over the edge into a earth-quaking orgasm. Your body writhed in Steve’s lap, your hips grinding gracelessly against your hand as you collapsed forward, leaning into the grip of his hand around your throat. You sobbed your pleasure, the waves of your release wracking your body for long moments.

Eventually, the final swell ebbed and the last of your energy receded with it. Your damp forehead fell against Steve’s cool, dry one and you struggled to catch your breath. His hand slipped from the front of your throat around to the back of your neck and he smoothed it down your spine. 

He held you close, whispering in your ear, “Such a good girl, buttercup, you did so good.”

Once you finally settled, Steve shifted, his beard grazing your lips as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Can I take you home now?” he asked.

You huffed a laugh and slumped against his chest, laying your head sleepily on his shoulder. “I don’t think I can move yet,” you said, slurring your words with tiredness. And drunkenness.

Steve chuckled, but made no attempt to move you. You only felt him lifting his arms around you, though his hands didn’t settle on your body. 

“If you see Sam while you’re back in town, don’t tell him I did this,” Steve murmured in your ear. Then you felt the truck rumbling to life and getting back onto the road and you realized where your oldest friend’s hands were. He was driving you home, with you still sitting boneless in his lap.

When Steve arrived at your rental house, not too long after, he helped you down from his truck and looped an arm around your waist, getting you into the bungalow. Thankfully, you were sated from your release in his truck so you didn’t try to proposition him again, just dutifully did as he said, changing into your pajamas in your bedroom while he waited outside the closed door. 

Then he let you lean against his broad chest while you brushed your teeth and washed your face, before guiding you back to your room and tucking you into bed. Last, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that was so comforting, and made you feel so safe, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft smile curled your lips.

Before he could leave, your hand darted out and grabbed Steve’s wrist with surprising precision given your state and the fact that your eyes were closed. You dragged them open again, blinking away the bleariness until your childhood friend’s face came into focus. 

“I don’t regret anything we’ve done together, Stevie,” you mumbled, the side of your mouth hitching up in a lopsided smile. “I’m glad you were my first.” You lost the battle with your eyes and they fell closed. You also, apparently, lost the fight against biting back your feelings, murmuring sleepily, “I want you to be my last.”  

For a long moment, Steve was quiet. He seemed to wait until you were just on the edge of sleep before responding to your drunken confession. 

“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk, and I’ll believe you, buttercup,” Steve murmured, ducking down to press a kiss to your hand, still wrapped loosely around his wrist, before carefully extricating himself. 

You were snoring before Steve closed and locked the front door of your bungalow behind him. He walked down the short path to his truck, which sat at the curb, a subtle smile on his lips and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

[satorusdiary]

dilf!toji being your ex bf

fluff & angst + making up + cuddling + toji not being able to resist you when you look so fragile + toji forever loving you

part 2! - back in love !

You sent 1:03 am

hey, r u awake?

toji places the cigarette back down on the ashtray, looking at his phone slightly shocked. it’s been months since you and him have had contact, the split up that has happened to your relationship has left a strain in his heart.

why did you text him at this hour? and most importantly, why aren’t you asleep? toji knows how well your sleep schedule usually was.

his friends look at him concerned, the look on toji’s face confusing them even more compared to when he stopped smoking repeatedly just a few seconds ago.

“fushiguro, you good?” satoru questions, patting his friends shoulder as he looks over at his friends phone. he wasn’t able to get a look at the message before toji pulls the phone into a direction that wasn’t able to be seen.

“yeah.. jus’ lemme call someone real quick.” before the rest of his friends could protest, toji is up and walking over to an empty room in the apartment. taking a seat on the bed.

Toji sent 1:09 am

thought i told you to lose my number

now that’s something he wouldn’t text you, he immediately starting regretting sending that message the second you immediately read the message.

you were his sweet little girl. the young woman who he swore he was gonna marry, the one he swore to have kids with.

things were different when he realized how much his life would have an impact on you if you stayed with him.

what’s good about a sweet girl who has a bright future getting with a older man selling illegal substances, that could send him to jail for years and years.

yeah not good at all.

toji knew what’s best for you, and if it meant him not being with you then it was worth it.

because he loved you, and would do physically anything in his power for you to have the best in life.

You sent 1:09 am

i know, i just need someone to talk to rn. i’m sorry

his heart weeps, you still want his comfort even after he has completely broke you, and your relationship with him.

he should be in jail for just breaking you in general.

toji sighs, not knowing how to reply. he wants to comfort you, yet he wants to push you away from his life. push you away from the trouble and the dangers that could happen to you.

he thinks you have given up until you text him 3 minutes later.

You sent 1:12 am

can i call you, please toji?

he couldnt deny it. he just couldnt. his love for you was simply unbreakable even if you weren’t together anymore.

his friends out in the living room are most likely concerned and worried for toji, but that’s the least of his problems. he needs to know if you’re okay, if you’re hurt.

‘incoming call from Toji’

he swears his heart skips a beat when the call goes through.

toji is not one to get nervous. especially with anything in general. but when it came to you, everything comes crashing down. when it comes to you, toji is willing to do anything for you, because you were his girl. his love.

“..hi” your voice is shaky, it seems you’re nervous as well. could he blame you though? this was the first time in months he has actually spoke to you.

“hey.” he replies, hoping you wouldn’t notice the weak tone in his voice as he spoke.

there’s a moment of silence, and soft breathing from your end before toji speaks up.

“are you ok? why’d you call me.”

it’s harsh, his tone is harsh. your eyes begin watering, and you hope he doesn’t notice.

“i-i am just having trouble sleeping, that’s all. ‘wanted your company atleast to calm me down.” your tone has a small strain, as if you were crying for hours before you called him.

it was as if he was able to see your puffy eyes through the screen, he could just imagine it now.

“there’s something else, hm? c’mon tell me, y’know i won’t judge.” especially with you. is what he wanted to say as-well, but he couldn’t get to soft with you now. he couldn’t.

he hears a sniffle from your end, feeling his heart clench once more. as if his heart is dropping to the bottom of his stomach.

“okay.. t-truth is i usually sleep better with you ‘round. but since you’re gone, ‘ts been kinda rough. i just wanted to call you for once, to see if it would help..” you confessed, voice breaking down in between sentences.

toji has an urge to put you down, and hang up. but he couldn’t, how could he resist you? especially after everything he has put you through.

the bracelet on his wrist that has your initials come into his vision. you had made this for him when he was sick, he has never took it off ever since.

“y’want me to come over? not gonna make contact, jus’ gonna be there til you sleep.” he says calmly, he swore he could’ve heard you sigh in relief.

“mhmm, yes please..” you’re still polite, his sweet girl is still sweet around him. that’s what he misses with you.

“alright’ be there in 10. jus know i’m never doin this shit again, kay?” he says harshly, too harsh.

you sniffle again, he could tell your frowning and having tears drop on your phone screen. his heart strings get tugged, and he calms his weeping heart.

he’s hurt you once again.

the call ends before you could say anything else, and he’s out of the bedroom quickly taking his keys. his friends look at him concerned.

“yo, you good?” suguru comments, looking up at his friend who was ready to leave the apartment.

“where you going?” satoru also questions.

toji shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh as he turns to look at his of friends once again.

“gonna be gone for a bit, see ya tomorrow?” he waves them off, and goes out the door before they could reply, or ask anymore questions.

he knows he said he would be at your place by 10 minutes, but he ends up arriving in 5 minutes. quickly at your door step, knocking on the door gently.

just as he predicted, you open the door almost immediately.

when he looks at you, he swears he could break down then and there. on your door step.

your eyes are puffy, you’re wearing his hoodie that he “accidentally” left at your home, and there were dried tear stains on your puffy cheeks.

he wanted to kiss your cheeks badly, and cradle you in his arms. but he resisted.

thats before you crash into his arms, immediately breaking down. hugging him tightly as if he was going to disappear again.

toji breaks, he can’t handle the cold act around you any longer.

“y/n? what’s wrong baby? speak to me..” toji coo’s, his harsh tone disappeared. you automatically feel comfort from his nice tone, something you missed.

there he is, the sweet older boyfriend you have always missed. the man who was your home, your protector, your everything.

“‘missed you s’much toji. miss being with you and megumi, i-i can’t sleep without thinking about how i could’ve been better for you.” you stutter repeatedly.

it was no lie that megumi missed you as well. the boy who is only 3 years old can not go a night without asking where you were, if you were coming back to him without breaking down. because you made the little boy feel loved.

toji’s heart breaks, now he notices how selfish he has been. yes he was protecting you, but he also broke you so much. regret seeps into his body, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.

“‘s not your fault sweets, you were more than enough for me. c’mon, let’s go to bed.” he murmurs, picking you up bridal style and walks towards your bedroom. the door behind him shutting closed.

the photo of you both happily together was still on your night stand, toji’s heart breaks for the millionth time in the past hour.

his side of the bed was cold, as if you never slept on it. that’s because it felt wrong sleeping on that side, knowing it once belonged to him.

you continue crying as you’re placed on the bed, still in toji arms. he’s careful with you, placing kisses on your face and rubbing your body to give you his heat.

“i-i miss you.. s’much.” you repeat, looking up at him for the first time with clear sight. tears drying back on your cheeks.

he gives you a sad smile and kisses both of your cheeks, sticky with tears.

“i miss you more sweetheart, missed my little girl s’much.. ‘l’ll explain everythin to you tomorrow, kay?” he questions, caressing your cold cheek.

the smile you give him is sad, but could easily melt the coldness in his heart.

after you nod he places a kiss on your lips, before pulling you closer, your head on his chest while is head is rested on top of yours.

the night goes by, and your soft snores fill the room. toji’s eyes are still glued onto the photo of you both, looking so happy, so dumb and in love.

he is gonna make that happen again, only for you. he’d figure out everything else soon, his priority was now you.

“i love you, missed you more than anything. baby.” he whispers quietly, placing one last kiss to your temple before drifting off to sleep.

for the first time in months he is able to sleep with no bad feelings, or any nightmares.

that is because you’re by his side, by his side to push away all the bad thoughts. by his side to make him feel loved again.

Jujutsu Kaisen masterlist

part 2 - back in love !

a/n: don’t mind typos pls, it’s like 3:47 am😭😭

[cherrychilli]

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, friends to lovers, mentions of nudity, brief mention of masturbation (m). Basically, Eddie finds you sleeping naked in his bed.

A/N: Idk I've had this idea in my head for too long now and I need to exorcise it out of me with this little drabble or I'll never be able to get on with my life.

Forest Hills trailer park wasn't your usual stop after clocking out of work but after the day you’ve had you don’t have it in you to wait for the next bus back to your apartment. Your place is 30 minutes away but the journey is sure to take even longer in the current downpour.

Staying over at the trailer wasn't anything new. A spare key was entrusted to you years ago and you made use of it on days like this to crash at Eddie’s for convenience sake. The key came with the promise that you were welcome to anything you needed even if both Eddie and Wayne were away – shower, food, an extra change of clothes, what have you, and you needed them all today.

With Wayne out of town for a few days and Eddie due back in two hours you sink into auto pilot, weary down to the bone from your shift. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel as weird as it probably should when you started to undress in their kitchenette, hanging your work clothes over the back of a nearby chair, rummaging through the fridge in your bra and panties for a quick bite to eat before heading for the shower.

There wasn’t much in it besides beer since Wayne hadn’t been around to stock it. Eddie always preferred ordering take out over getting groceries – something you were going to nag him for again when you had the strength to do so.

Cereal it would have to be.

You located a box inside one of the cupboards, tipping the wheaty, sugary contents straight into your mouth without bothering with a bowl and spoon. It’s not lost on you how similarly you’re acting to Eddie right down to the unruly state of half undress, wiping crumbs off your lips with the back of your hand. If you finished off with a belch it'd be like he never left the trailer this morning.

The messy mouthfuls of cereal prove enough to silence the toad’s croak of hunger that'd been gurgling noisily inside your belly, putting the box away.

Traipsing through, feet dragging, you threw your clothes into the washer next along with your underwear, completely nude now in the Munson trailer as you made your way to the shower – but not before reaching out for Eddie's Garfield mug that sat on a nearby shelf, turning it around so that the cartoon cat's lazy smirk no longer faced you. For your modesty.

You try to keep the shower brisk, not wanting to use up all the hot water but with the way it sprays down on your aching body, the steam and heat combo soothing your poor sore muscles, it’s so blissful that you have to keep yourself from nodding off right there.

You did make use of Eddie’s body wash, some spicy, woodsy smelling thing in a jet-black bottle but you didn't dare use the two in one shampoo that sat in their shower caddy. It might have worked fine for Eddie and his wild mane but you knew better than to apply the stuff to your own hair. Fortunately, experience had taught you to carry a travel sized bottle filled with your own shampoo whenever you stayed over, working over your locks in a lather scented with cranberries and vanilla.

Stamina depleting by the second, toweling off and brushing your teeth takes the last sliver of energy out of you. Eyelids slipping, movements sluggish, limbs feeling too heavy for your own body to hold up – you’re shutting down whether you like it or not.

Dropping the damp towel on his bedroom floor, you intended to change, you really did. You’d even picked out one of Eddie’s washed t-shirts and a pair of boxers out of the laundry and set them down at the foot of the bed to put on before you made yourself comfortable but that’s not what happened.

Still nude, you crawl into bed, seeking warmth and soft comfort, numbed down to a kind of tunnel vision with rest being your one and only goal.

It feels all the more natural because you’re used to sleeping naked in your own bed, much too tired to remember that you’re not in your bed, draping a blanket that doesn't belong to you over your spent body, surrendering to sleep seconds after your head hits the pillow.

It'd still been raining when Eddie returns later. Dragging himself through the trailer, nearly as worn down as you had been, shaking the excess water out of his hair like a dog trying to get dry.

The smell of your shampoo still lingering in the air tells him you're there, finding you curled up in his bed, all bundled up to your neck. The sight makes him smile.

It doesn't take too long for him to join you, following a similar routine – a quick bite with the addition of a beer and then a shower, only he doesn't skip out on clothing himself in his PJ's first.

If he’d shared the blanket with you he might have found out about your lack of dress sooner but as the gentleman that he can sometimes be, he pulls out a spare blanket from the closet so as to not wake you, prolonging the discovery. Being friends for so long meant that sharing a bed was never awkward even after you'd became adults.

That was until the next morning came.

It’s not the stream of morning light brightening from a cool blue to a warm amber peeking in between the curtains that wakes Eddie, or even the tinny smack of his neighbor’s broken screen door gusting open just a few feet away from his bedroom window. It’s the warmth of your ass pressed flush against his crotch and his nose nestled in your sweet-smelling hair that pulls him out of a dream he wont be able to recall later if he tried.

He shifts closer, eyes cracking open, remembering the tiny bottle of shampoo sitting on the bathroom counter. Remembering the new toothbrush placed in the cup next to his own. Remembering the powder blue towel that neither he nor Wayne ever used laying on his bedroom floor.

And then he remembers that he’s not alone.

Oh...

And then he wishes that he was.

Panic snaps up like a beartrap around Eddie when he realizes he's hard – his thick, throbbing erection pressed right up against your body.

Growing clammy, cold sweat beads on the back of his neck but he’s in luck because you haven’t noticed yet, still sound asleep.

This close together, he knows the slightest movement could rouse you. But what was the alternative? Wait it out? Hope to hell his boner goes away? Fat fucking chance. Not when the soft swell of your ass and your body heat alone had him questioning how he could ever go back to his calloused fist after this.

Carefully, desperately, he tries to inch back without waking you but just as he feared, you begin to stir. Your back arches instinctively, seeking out his warm, solid frame even in your sleep.

Shit shit shit.

The covers slip as you shift, your bare shoulders coming into view, eyes starting to flutter open. With no other option, Eddie swiftly rolls on to his back, his hard on no longer pressed up against you but the problem persists.

“Oh, morning”, you greet him through a yawn, pulling an arm out to rub at your eyes, blanket slipping lower but the frantic boy hasn’t noticed yet, too busy whipping his pillow out from under him to place over his lap.

“Uh-hey. Shower’s free if you wanna go first”, he offers quickly, smiling hard, hoping to subtly usher you out because he's too afraid to get up and risk you getting a load of the tent in his pants if he were to go ahead of you.

“Thanks”, you yawn again, still occupied with rubbing at your sleepy eyes to notice your best friend's pale face turning beet fucking red in an instant as you clamber out of bed, blankets no longer concealing you.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look first. His eyes dart everywhere, every bare inch of you on display. So much soft, naked skin it’s making him short circuit.

His gaze eagerly travels over the slope of your breasts as they jiggle gently with your movements, taking in your soft nipples, moving down over your belly and hips, noticing a few new freckles and beauty marks there along the way to the soft curls between your legs.

His erection digs into the pillow, brain dangerously close to fizzing because he’d been pressed up against you like that all night and not even known it.

A shiver works its way through you, making you question why it feels so drafty in his room all of a sudden. You turn back to ask Eddie if there’s anything wrong with the heating, catching the shocked expression on his face.

Looking down, you're met with the sight of your nude body, breasts bare, no underwear. It's a good thing the occupants of the trailer park liked to mind their own business, even if sometimes you thought they did so to a fault because in any other neighborhood your piercing screech would have had everyone within earshot dialing up the cops.

The scream ricochets off the walls at an ear ringing volume, causing Eddie to jolt and lose his balance, falling out of bed while you leapt back in. Grabbing his spare pillow, you press one half against your chest and squeeze the rest between your thighs to shield yourself.

Now he slaps his hands over his eyes.

---

More than anything, you try so hard to push it aside. To pretend that it hadn't happened but it looms over you like a cloud on the brink of bursting with rain.

After three whole days of walking around eggshells around each other it's Eddie who breaks first.

"I can't stand this I don't know what else to do, Can we just talk about it please?"

“Eddie…", you sigh, a gentle warning.

"So what if I saw you naked? you saw my boner!...sort of. I mean, I guess that doesn't exactly make us even but it has to count for something, right? you're not alone in this"

You immediately set your wide eyes on the only other patrons in the diner to see if they’d overheard – two older women swapping pictures of their grandchildren over coffee and cheesecake. When neither of them take a pause in the middle of cooing about little Tommy's third Birthday or little Emily's first day of Kindergarten you redirect your attention back to Eddie.

“Eddie! Keep your voice down!”, you whisper shout at him from across the booth. "There are literal grandmother's here!"

He rolls his eyes. Not mean spirited, just unconcerned by the ladies and what they may or may not have overheard.

And then, even though no one’s paying either of you any attention, you lean closer over your half-finished key lime pie, one hand shielding the side of your face like you’re trying to avoid getting recognized by an ex who’s just walked in.

"I'm so embarrassed...please can we just drop it?", you plead, voice hushed.

He gives you this look of mild incredulity. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me", and the inflection in his tone almost gives him away, prompting him to double back immediately.

The last thing he wants is for you to feel more uncomfortable than you already do. So he doesn't need you to catch on that he's got every moment of your unintended strip tease memorized. Or that he likes to replay what he's since thought of as the best 10 seconds of his life over and over again when he's fucking his fist in the shower.

“I just mean that it's nothing to be embarrassed by. It could have happened to anyone. Who among us hasn’t napped in just their birthday suit before, am I right?” he finishes with a slight wince, knowing none of this is exactly helpful.

And you know he’s only trying to be nice in his own, sweet, bumbling way but you still feel terrible.

"I don't know if I can shake this feeling", you cast your eyes down, looking too close to despondent for his liking.

"Listen I- I don't know how to fix this but I want to. Please just tell me what I can do and I'll do it, okay?"

God, he's sweet and it makes you feel a little flustered being on the receiving end of that gentle stare, needing to shift the mood lest you drown in all that earnestness pooling in his eyes.

It's moments like this that call for a bad joke to cut the tension, right? some momentary and well meaning deflection before you're ready to address the matter at hand again.

Letting out a half hearted laugh, you make your best attempt to inject some humor into the situation.

"I don't know. Maybe it might help if you got naked too", you nervously scraped your fork against the buttery graham cracker crust of your pie, dislodging a few golden crumbs.

It was so very clearly a joke. At least you had thought so. Eddie? not so much.

His brown eyes go wide, looking scandalized, his voice coming out a little more quite than you're used to.

"What?"

"I mean, I showed you mine after all", you tried again in a cadence that was wholly unserious but once again, he fails to catch on.

"You want me to get naked for you?"

You should correct him and you mean to but before you're able to do just that, something about the way he's staring at you makes you want to match his seriousness. The fact that he didn't say no right away strikes you as weirdly intriguing.

"You don't have to", you clarify, adding, "It's just that – well, you asked and I think it could maybe help? to really get us on even ground?”

The words that come out don't feel like you own – foreign to your ears even though they're said in your voice, with your own lips forming them and your own tongue curling around every syllable.

What the hell am I doing?

Eddie pauses. Seconds drag on like nails on a chalkboard as he taps a ringed finger thoughtfully on the edge of his empty plate smudged with faint traces of cream cheese and lime zest.

"Fine. On one condition", he leans back, arms crossing over his chest, smiling wide and megawatt bright.

Oh my god is this really happening?

“...Yeah?”

"You're going to undress me"

---

Part two? who knows. Certainly not I.

[its-avalon-08]

it all fell down (ln4)

part2

multipart story! prev part3

✦ pairing - lando norris x female reader

summary : lando norris and y/n were friends for 20 years, fell in love and dated for five. until it all fell down. they left each others lives abruptly and never spoke again, until they met again in the most unexpected way. can they find their way back or will certain scars never heal?

Anna had always been the glue that held their group together. She had been there through the highs and lows, a steadfast friend to both Lando and Y/N. When Lando and Y/N were a couple, Anna was the third musketeer along with her boyfriend, sharing countless dinners, vacations, and memories with them. Even after the abrupt end of their relationship, Anna managed to remain close to both, somehow balancing her friendship without taking sides.

Now, Anna was celebrating her engagement to Liam, a charming lawyer she had met a year ago. The engagement party was set in a stunning hall overlooking the Mediterranean, the perfect backdrop for a night of celebration.

Lando arrived early, looking dapper in a tailored navy suit. The hall was buzzing with excitement as guests mingled and enjoyed the festive atmosphere. He made his way to the bar, ordering a drink and scanning the room for familiar faces.

"Hey, Lando!" Anna called out, beaming as she walked over to him. She looked radiant in her elegant dress, her happiness evident in every step.

"Anna, congratulations!" Lando said, pulling her into a warm hug. "I can't believe this day is finally here. I's so bloody excited for you."

"Thank you! I’m so glad you could make it," Anna replied, her eyes shining. "It's been such a whirlwind, but everything has turned out perfectly."

"I wouldn’t miss it for the world," Lando said, raising his glass. "To you and Liam and alot more beer!"

As they clinked glasses, Anna's expression turned slightly hesitant. "I wanted to tell you that Y/N isn't coming tonight," she said gently, her voice careful. "I know it might have been awkward, so you don’t have to worry about that."

Lando nodded, a mixture of relief and a pang of something he couldn't quite place. "Thanks for letting me know. I'm just here to celebrate you."

Meanwhile, across town, Y/N was finishing her final touches. She wore a stunning emerald green dress that highlighted her eyes, her hair cascading in soft waves. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the evening ahead.

"Ready?" Claire asked, stepping into the room.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Y/N replied, forcing a smile.

As they arrived at the venue, Y/N felt a mix of nerves and anticipation. Anna had assured her that Lando wouldn't be there, but the memories associated with their friendship were hard to shake. She squared her shoulders and stepped into the hall, determined to focus on Anna and Liam.

Lando was deep in conversation with George when it happened. He was in the middle of taking a sip of his drink when he looked up and saw her. His eyes locked onto a familiar figure standing by the entrance, her silhouette as hauntingly familiar as it was devastatingly unexpected. Y/N.

The woman he had loved fiercely and lost abruptly, the ghost of a five-year love that had burned brightly then crumbled to ash, now stood only a few feet away. Her laughter, unmistakably hers, cut through the din, bringing back memories of stolen kisses and whispered promises. Lando's heart pounded as a thousand unspoken words and countless emotions surged within him. His heart was beginning to race, and then he caught the familiar scent of her perfume, a haunting echo of nights spent wrapped in her embrace. The years had changed them both, but the sight of her after so long hit him like a tidal wave, crashing over the carefully built walls around his heart.

He choked on his drink, sputtering as George patted his back. "Mate, you alright?"

Lando nodded, eyes still fixed on Y/N. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just went down the wrong pipe."

George followed his gaze and his eyes widened. "Well, this just got interesting."

Y/N scanned the room, her eyes catching sight of Anna almost immediately. She started to make her way over when she felt a pair of eyes on her. Turning slightly, her heart skipped a beat as she saw Lando staring at her from across the room. For a moment, everything else faded away—the music, the chatter, the laughter—leaving only the two of them locked in a silent, poignant gaze.

"Y/N, you made it!" Anna's voice broke the spell, pulling her back to the present. She turned to see her friend approaching with a bright smile.

"Of course, I wouldn’t miss it for anything love," Y/N replied, hugging Anna tightly. "You look so amazing."

"So do you," Anna said, glancing between Y/N and Lando. "I’m so glad you're both here."

Y/N forced a smile, trying to keep her composure. "Wouldn't miss it."

As the evening wore on, both Lando and Y/N did their best to avoid each other, each painfully aware of the other's presence. But in a room full of memories, it was impossible to forget.

taglist ---> @misspygmypie @kol67-t @sltwins @f1fantasys @sarx164

comment to get added to taglist

[avatar-anna]

Snooze

sza deserves all the grammys this year i said what i said

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

*.*

"You're an idiot, Styles."

Harry tried to respond, but hissed as Y/n dabbed the cut near his eye. "Easy, there. I know you have gentler hands than that."

Y/n huffed, moving onto his split lip. Harry was sitting on top of her bathroom counter as she cleaned up his cuts from the fight he got into at his game an hour ago. She hadn't gone, and had been surprised when Harry showed up at her doorstep battered and bruised, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his cheek. They weren't supposed to see each other tonight, but Y/n didn't have time to think about the fact that Harry had come to her for help when they only had been sleeping together for two weeks now.

"Should've gone somewhere else if you wanted gentle," Y/n said, her words coming out icier than she'd intended. Perhaps she was overcompensating to cover up the fact that she didn't like seeing him hurt, but she quickly pushed that thought away until it was practically non-existent. "What the hell were you fighting about anyway?"

Harry had mentioned the fight was enough to get him thrown out of the game, but he didn't say what had pushed him to start it in the first place. Y/n had joined her friends at a handful of hockey games, and each time Harry was a cocky little shit on the ice, sometimes shoving an opponent around or getting in their face, but it was never anything serious. He was a lot of things, but Y/n never considered him to be the overly violent type. She didn't imagine any small thing would've caused him to lose it on someone, especially if it affected his team negatively.

Harry shrugged, but Y/n saw the dark look that crossed his face as he recalled the fight. "Some asshole on the other team was talking shit. I put a stop to it."

Definitely vague, but Y/n had no idea why. She didn't see any reason why he would have to hide his reason for getting in a fight during one of his games. "Well, I hope you got a few good hits in."

"Careful, Princess. You're starting to sound like you care about little old me."

Y/n blushed at Harry's sly grin. Something fluttered in her stomach, but she ignored it, opting to press just a little harder on the cut on his lip. "No. I just had it in my head that I was going to sit on your face tonight, and now I can't."

The look of pure disappointment on Harry's face left Y/n feeling perfectly pleased with herself. She couldn't help the way she swelled with pride at how much he wanted her. She wasn't really sure what that meant, but she didn't feel like putting much thought into it for now.

When Harry tried to lean in for a kiss, his hands, bruised knuckles and all, reaching out for her waist, Y/n stepped out of his grasp. She left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, returning with an ice pack and tossing it to Harry. "You can crash here tonight if you want," she said. "You know, concussion protocol and everything."

The look Harry gave her was one Y/n couldn't read, but it made her squirm, so she disappeared out of the bathroom once again. Harry didn't follow, so she assumed he was just wrapping up or something. In the meantime, she went to her room, rustling through the stack of vinyls next to her desk before settling on one and and putting on her record player. It crackled for a moment, then music erupted from the speakers, filling Y/n's bedroom and putting her at ease a bit. The truth was, seeing Harry roughed up didn't sit well with her. She worried for him, felt bad that she wasn't there. And she didn't expect to feel that way, she didn't like it. Harry had joked earlier that she was starting to care about him, and that sent her nerves skittering too. That wasn't what this was.

Harry came in a few minutes later, setting his duffle bag in its usual place and picking his way through the dim glow of the twinkly lights. He slipped into bed next to Y/n, kissing up and down her neck and shoulders as he slipped his hands under her sleep shirt. Y/n tilted her head back to kiss him, not really thinking about the cut on his bottom lip. Harry winced a little, but didn't pull away. She did, though, brushing her thumb over his lip gently.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Maybe we should—"

"No, it's okay. I like the pain," Harry said, and Y/n couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Honestly, it was probably both.

The record continued to play, the melody easing the tension out of both of their shoulders and relaxing Y/n in a way it always did. "No more split lips. I don't like tasting blood when I kiss you."

"I see," Harry said, but there was something in his tone that made her brow furrow. It was the same knowing look he'd given her in her bathroom, but she still couldn't quite make sense of it. It felt like he knew something she didn't, like he saw right through the walls around her heart and knew how she really felt.

Flicking her eyes away from that piercing gaze of his, she shuffled around on her bed, inching down Harry's body as her fingers traced his lithe frame as she went. Harry tried to question her actions, but his voice dissolved into a moan before he could do so. Y/n didn't want to think anymore, didn't want to worry, didn't want her thoughts to travel into territory she considered dangerous. She just wanted him.

Harry's hand found the back of her head, content in her plan to leave the events of the night behind them. He murmured words of encouragement, talking her through it all and guiding her head and caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. The longer she pleasured him, the more that swell of pride came back in full force. She preened at each little reaction he had to her touch, causing her to smile as best she could in her current position.

When it was all said and done, Harry rested his head against Y/n's chest, his breaths deep and slow as the record's first side fizzled to an end. Y/n tried not to think too much into the position they'd found themselves in, or the way lying together felt just as right as having sex did. Her heart flipped as Harry sleepily mumbled, "Thanks for taking care of me," his voice so slurred she wondered if he would remember saying it in the morning.

Y/n couldn't find sleep as she wondered if she wanted him to or not.

*.*

Harry hadn't been a relationship very long, but he thought it was safe to say that he knew when his newly minted girlfriend was positively seething.

Y/n had somehow managed to sit on top of the kitchen counter, and he could see her staring from the doorway that led to the main room of his apartment where he was involved in a particularly intense drinking game. He knew why she was stewing over there, why her fingers tightly gripped the drink he'd gotten for her earlier. They were together now, but it wasn't like they made a formal announcement to anyone, so sometimes a girl would try to flirt at a party or a guy would get a little too comfortable around Y/n.

Neither of them liked to share, but Y/n wasn't as up front about it as Harry tended to be; he preferred to quietly seethe and let her bad mood settle over her while he had no problem letting people know he was hers. He didn't like this girl pressing up against him more than Y/n did, but every time he tried to put distance between them around the table, she just kept inching back to him. Harry fancied himself a gentleman and didn't want to embarrass the freshman by telling her point blank he wasn't interested, but she hadn't taken the subtle hints he was throwing her way, and he wanted to go to sleep a happy boyfriend.

The game wrapped up quickly and Harry did his best to try to get away from the table and head toward Y/n, but a hand rested on his bicep, causing him to turn around to look down at the young woman who'd been flirting with him the entirety of the game. Before she could get a word out, Harry was quick to shut her down. "I have a girlfriend."

"I don't see her," she said, her thumb smoothing over his shirtsleeve, but he quickly shrugged out of her grip and nodded to where he knew Y/n was watching the exchange take place.

And Harry felt it was an important distinction that his girlfriend was staring down the girl, not him.

Y/n's legs were crossed, causing her mini skirt to ride up her legs a couple inches. She wore tights underneath, but Harry only found it hotter. Everything about her turned him on, even the amused raise of her brows as she stared down the freshman who was still standing a little too close for her liking.

A lot was said in that look, and Harry could practically feel the chill from it, even when it wasn't necessarily directed at him. But it did the trick. The girl stepped back, a deep blush staining her cheeks. "Sorry, I'll just..."

And then she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd in search of someone available. Shaking his head, Harry maneuvered his way through his apartment, avoiding the throngs of people who bumped into him and got in his way. He didn't often have parties at his apartment, but tonight was his roommate's birthday, so now there was a hoard of people milling around his living room. He was just glad he had a lock on his door.

That look of irritation thinly veiled by amusement still danced in Y/n's eyes when Harry finally reached her. He was quick to tap her chin with his knuckle, settling one arm on the counter space beside her. "Ease up, tiger. I'm all yours, you know that."

"These underclassmen are bold," was all she said. The base of an R&B song thumped through the apartment, but this close together, Harry could hear her just fine. It was one of Y/n's favorite, and he could tell by the gentle sway of her body that she wasn't as mad as she was letting on.

Very gently, but with enough purpose and a look in his eyes that had Y/n's frosty exterior melting a little, he uncrossed her legs and settled in between them. "You didn't want to come save me?"

Harry took a sip of Y/n's drink when she offered it to him, running a hand through his hair idly. Most days he wore one baseball cap or another on his head, but recently he'd been going without one, perhaps on the off chance that his girlfriend's hands would find their way to his hair and play with it. "What did you want me to do? Go over there and shove my tongue down your throat?"

"I mean...I wouldn't have been opposed."

Sometimes Y/n came off as cold or a little standoffish, at least to those who didn't know her. She was just guarded, but every time Harry managed to put a smile on her face was worth it, each one a mini victory. There was a side to her that only he really knew, and he valued that nearly above everything else in their budding relationship.

"Noted," she said, crossing her arms around his neck. This close, Harry couldn't really do much but breathe in the smell of her perfume and nudge the sensitive skin of her neck with his nose. He swore he could just get drunk on the feel of her alone. Y/n hummed and leaned into him a little more before saying, "I like this song."

"Yeah?" Harry already knew, but he thought it was cute that she felt the need to tell him. As if he wasn't constantly cataloging all the little details that made up who she was.

Y/n nodded, pulling his head up by his hair so his eyes could meet hers. They were practically nose to nose, and he couldn't help the ridiculous smile that spread across his face as he looked into her eyes.

"What's that look for?" she asked.

I'm in love with you. It was the first time the thought had ever occurred to him, but he realized it was true. Harry was in love with Y/n. He'd liked her for a long time, as more than someone he just slept with, but he could tell that Y/n was a little slower to warm up to the idea of Harry being more than just a fuck buddy, so he took what she was willing to give him and bided his time. Now that he knew her even more, that he was able to be more to her, his heart unfurled like a flower in bloom.

Jesus, my teammates would roast the shit out of me if they heard me talking like this, he thought. Then, he realized he never answered Y/n's question. Clearing his throat, he gave her a quick kiss. "Come to bed with me? We can get up early tomorrow and get a morning skate in."

That, above everything, made Y/n's smile widen, and Harry couldn't fight his own when she crossed her legs behind his back and practically leaped into his arms.

*.*

Y/n didn't realize how someone could be so...perfect.

Before Harry waltzed his way into her life, she'd never done the whole relationship thing. She was too focused on skating, on her desire to be the best, to get distracted by things like boys and dates and hand-holding, by things like love. But Harry was just...well, he was unexpected. Now, years later, he was everything to her.

It started out with the small things. In school, he met her early in the morning for training, where she would do laps or work on tricks she was still struggling to master while he watched and reminded her to get water, or he would do drills while she reminded him of the same. They sat in ice baths together or helped each other stretch out their sore muscles, helped each other meal prep or make dinners that were beneficial to both their needs.

And then he became just as important to her off the ice. Harry made a point of reminding Y/n of balance, of enjoying herself outside the rink. They went on dates, studied together in the library, and volunteered at the community center to teach younger kids how to skate. When they were in school, Y/n and Harry had become some sort of unit, and that fact had only made her smile, not run away and hide like she originally thought it would.

Harry used to make her blood boil, now she didn't want to know what life would look like without him.

Currently, Harry was in the kitchen making breakfast. His back was to her, bearing the harsh red marks she left on his skin from last night. The sight made her cheeks flush, though she knew if Harry were to spot the various hickeys on her skin, or the still healing red marks around her wrists, his usual charming grin would become more sly and smug.

Leaning against the counter, Y/n watched Harry do his thing in content. He moved around their kitchen like he'd been there for years when in reality they'd only just moved in a couple months ago. Their previous apartment post-graduation was little more than a closet with a bathroom and a stove. Being in the minor leagues, Harry was offered accommodations with the rest of his team, but he declined so he could live with Y/n, and his paychecks, in the beginning, weren't nearly enough to live comfortably in a metropolitan city.

In some ways, Y/n missed their old apartment. It was way too tiny, the heat barely worked, and the neighborhood wasn't the greatest, but it was theirs, a piece of their history. She liked having to snuggle up so close to Harry simply to keep warm, liked the sweet old man and his little dog that Y/n watched occasionally for extra cash. Now their apartment was perfectly insulated, and their bed was big enough that sometimes it felt like there was too much space, and she wasn't quite sure about her new neighbors yet.

It was good. With Harry, things were always good. It was just different, and Y/n had always had a hard time adjusting to change. She would get there eventually, she just needed to warm up to their new home a bit more.

The expansive kitchen space was a good start, though.

Harry was humming to himself, an R&B song they both loved. His voice was deep and gravelly, and not just because he'd just woken up. Judging by the to-go cups on the kitchen island, he'd been up for a while. No, that was just his natural singing voice, and Y/n would've been irked that her boyfriend just had to be good at everything if his voice didn't make her toes curl.

"You're chipper this morning," she said, finally announcing her presence.

Harry turned around and smiled before turning back to whatever needed his attention at the stove. Y/n took that as her cue to walk over to him, her arms slipping around his waist. She kissed the spot between his shoulder blades, his skin warm despite not having a shirt on. Harry felt solid beneath her touch, but soft enough that she comfortably rested her cheek against him.

He continued to hum, one hand covering Y/n's while the other tended to their breakfast. When he was almost done, she let go and helped Harry get plates and utensils, setting up shop at their dining table while he brought their food over. The table was also a new addition to their home. Before, they just ate at the tiny counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment, not having enough room for a proper table and chairs.

Harry pulled Y/n into his lap before she could even think about sitting in her own chair. She turned in her spot and looked down at him with raised eyebrows. "Why did we buy multiple chairs when we only ever use the one?"

It was a joke. Y/n didn't mind sitting on Harry's lap. His schedule was so hectic that sometimes it was weeks before he was able to come home and spend proper time with her. Being this close made up for lost time, and both of them were eager to be apart as little as possible during the off-season.

But Harry responded with an answer that made Y/n pause because she couldn't tell whether he was joking with her or being serious.

"For the kids, obviously."

She tried her hardest not to stiffen when he would be able to feel it. They'd never discussed kids. Ever. And Y/n couldn't tell if he was testing the waters or if he was genuinely being facetious.

"I don't know if sitting in your lap in front of our children would be very appropriate." Y/n managed to add a little sarcasm in her voice, unsure of where this conversation was going. Then, because she wasn't a woman scared of feelings and difficult conversations anymore, she said, "You've never talked about that before."

"About what?"

She leveled Harry with a flat look. "You know what."

Harry shrugged, clearly not as thrown off by this as Y/n was. "Is it a bad thing if I say I want to have your babies one day?"

Babies? As in plural? "Let's just focus on one for now," she said.

"Alright. One. I want a baby," Harry said plainly. "Not like now, or anything, but, like, in the future. I want that to be a step for us somewhere down the line."

Y/n knew Harry wasn't being pushy by being blunt. This was how they spoke when having serious conversations. No beating around the bush, no guessing at subtext or tones or anything like that. They just spoke in clear, declarative statements, though Y/n hadn't imagined having this particular conversation anytime soon.

She just didn't think Harry was there yet. She didn't know if she was there yet. They'd just moved into this apartment, and Harry was blowing up as a rookie in the NHL. Y/n was just getting her feet on the ground as a sports psychologist, with a little bit of coaching on the side because even with a full-time job she still couldn't live her life without skating multiple times a week. She just didn't think a baby fit into their lives right now, not with how they barely had time for each other as it was.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Harry said. He didn't seem put off by her lack of response to what he'd said, though that was probably because he was probably used to it by now.

"I'm not...opposed to the idea," Y/n said, because she really wasn't. If there was one person in this world that she wanted to raise a child with, it would be Harry. She could picture it if she allowed her mind to wander far enough—teaching them how to skate and bundling them up to watch Harry's home games, first Christmases and snow days and first steps at a hockey arena, skating recitals or hockey games where Harry would coach. It was a nice daydream.

"But?" Harry asked, his shoulders tensing, as if waiting for the blow.

"But nothing. I just think...I think I still want to be a little selfish and have you all to myself for a little while longer. I hardly get to see you as it is, you know? A baby would change our whole dynamic, and I feel like I'm finally settling into this new life here. Just the two of us."

Harry nodded. He didn't look disappointed, which filled Y/n with relief. She didn't want to upset him with her answer, but that was where she was at.

"I...agree," Harry finally said. "You made a good point there. I can't compete with a baby for your attention. That wouldn't be fair to the baby."

Y/n threw her head back and laughed. "No, it wouldn't. So we're in agreement then."

"Just you and me. For now."

"For now."

Harry leaned in to kiss her, and Y/n melted against him the second his lips were on hers. He groaned a little as she shifted in his lap before standing up and hauling her away from the breakfast he'd made and the table that started this whole conversation. Y/n didn't protest as he set her down on their bed, hands making quick work of the low slung sweatpants that rested on his hips. Harry brought his hand down between her legs, brows raising at how wet she was.

"Already?"

Y/n propped herself on her elbows and shrugged. "Your singing turned me on earlier."

"Really," Harry said, marveling at the revelation.

"Don't let it get to your head. I also think it's annoying how good you are at everything," she said.

Harry grinned before settling between her legs, his arms circling around her thighs to hold her in the exact way he wanted her. Y/n didn't want to talk anymore, but her boyfriend was a cocky little shit, and she knew she had to wait for him to finish basking in the compliment before they moved on.

"Hm. Maybe Harry Jr. will inherit my talents and become a singer."

"Harry Jr?"

"Or Harriet," Harry mused.

Y/n nudged his shoulder with her foot to bring him out of his reverie. "Look at me H. Not gonna happen."

Shrugging, Harry focused back on the task at hand. "Don't worry, Princess. I'll wear you down. I've got time to convince you."

*.*

Harry could hear the harsh, echoey footsteps of someone running through the halls of the arena, but he didn't open his eyes to see who it was. He didn't have to.

"Jesus, H," Y/n breathed when she skidded to a stop at his side. She sounded frantic, panicked. It was a voice he didn't hear often from his fiance.

To the athletic trainer on his other side, she asked, "Why is he just laying here? He needs to go to the hospital. Get off your ass and call an ambulance before—"

"Easy, Princess. We're waiting for the team doctor."

When Harry finally opened his eyes, just barely as the harsh light of the athletic trainer's office caused his head to throb, Y/n was already looking down at where he laid on the exam bed. There was a lot of raw emotion going through her all at once, Harry could see it on her face. He knew it wasn't long before she fell back on her default setting and shut down completely, hiding behind harsh words and a cold exterior.

"You—"

"I'm fine, bub, I promise," Harry said, though the nausea stirring in his gut at having his eyes open for too long wasn't a good sign. He probably had a concussion. He'd hit his head pretty hard when he fell on the ice, but he thought the sharp pain in his ribs was the major concern. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Don't be a hero," Y/n snapped, but he didn't take it personally. Then, she turned her steely gaze on the athletic trainer—a new hire who was on their own for the first time tonight—and said, "Call. An. Ambulance."

Harry shifted his focus to they young trainer, who looked like they were about to shit themselves under the weight of his fiance's stare. "I—I can't—We have to wait—"

Their gulp was audible as they struggled to string enough words together to form a sentence, which only set Y/n's eyes ablaze even more. Harry knew she was scared, he was sure that his fall looked a lot worse than it actually was. But she couldn't turn the new trainer into a puddle of tears. Not again.

"Y/n, look at me."

Harry watched as her eyes stayed trained on the athletic trainer for a few more seconds before sliding her gaze down to his. He could see the fear behind all that anger and toughness, and he carefully took her hand in his so he could kiss the diamond on her left ring finger. "I'm okay," he said again. "The team doctor is on his way, but we're probably looking at a minor concussion and some cracked ribs. That's all."

"That's all?"

Wrong choice of words. "I said minor, didn't I?"

The truth was the hit Harry took on the ice was one of the worst he'd experienced in his professional career. It was a total accident, just too much momentum between him and a player on the opposing team. But it sent Harry careening across the ice, punching the breath out of his lungs and knocking his helmet right off.

"Sit down and take some deep breaths while we wait for the doctor," Harry tried again. "You're gonna stress out the baby."

Y/n's hand instinctively went to her belly, resting their joined hands over the little bump there. In one of Harry's jerseys, it was hard to feel it through the thick material, but he could, and despite the pain he was in, his heart leaped in his chest at the notion of being close to his baby.

Pregnancy was a surprise to the both of them. They'd had one conversation two years ago about kids, but after that, Harry and Y/n never really brought the subject up again. They were just content to live their lives in the moment, not wanting to plan or stress about the future or what could be. But even if they hadn't anticipated Y/n being pregnant, both of them were excited at the prospect of raising a baby together. After that initial conversation, they decided to hold off on kids, and now, the moment felt just right.

Y/n did as Harry asked, taking a deep breath and easing into the chair beside the exam bed he was on. He watched as some of the initial fear and stress of watching him fall in real time wash away, her eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. When she opened her eyes, her gaze found the athletic trainer's again.

"Remember to say please," Harry said before she opened her mouth.

Y/n cut him a glare before she looked back at the trainer. "Could you please find out when the doctor will be here?"

The athletic trainer didn't need to be asked twice. They scurried out of the room, and Harry could hear their frantic voice as they begged the team doctor over the phone to get to the arena faster.

"You know, you really gotta be careful, Princess. People might start to think you actually care about me."

It was his attempt at humor, easing the nerves he knew were swirling around inside her. Y/n's shoulders had yet to relax since she came in the room, and her eyes kept scanning his body as if a new affliction was magically going to appear in front of her. Unfortunately for Harry, his words did not have the desired effect. Y/n glared at him while most likely suppressing the urge to hit him.

"This isn't funny!"

"Never said it was."

"God, Harry," she said, her voice cracking beneath the steel she'd been hiding behind. Now that they were alone, her vulnerability started to make an appearance. "You—You scared me."

Harry's gaze softened. "I know, bub. I'm sorry."

Y/n ran a shaking hand through his hair, working through the knots in his tangled curls while her nails scratched his scalp. Harry leaned his head back with closed eyes, enjoying the familiar caress.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything as Y/n calmed herself—and Harry—down. Then, he squeezed her hand, peeking and eye open at her and giving her a knowing look. "You have to stop scaring the new hires. They know what they're doing."

"They looked like a child!" she huffed, pausing her ministrations. "We would already be at the hospital by now."

"I really don't think that's necessary," Harry insisted. "Let's just wait for the doctor, okay?"

Some might find Y/n's behavior overbearing, maybe even rude. But she lashed out when she was scared or angry, and even though Harry drove her insane when they first met years ago, she was fiercely protective of him now. And he couldn't really judge her for it, he was the same with her, especially now that she was pregnant. Y/n had chastised him a number of times already for not letting her carry groceries or assemble furniture for the nursery.

Y/n eventually nodded, begrudgingly agreeing to wait for the team doctor. She slumped in her chair beside Harry, exhaling a loud sigh. Harry grinned, slowly reaching for her chin and tilting her head to face him.

"Come give me a kiss. It'll make me feel better."

Under normal circumstances, Y/n would've scoffed. Harry had come home from a number of games and practices all banged up and begging for Y/n to kiss it better. But tonight she was shaken up at the severity of Harry's fall, and probably needed the kiss more than he did, which was why he said something in the first place.

Y/n pecked his lips before pulling away. She tried to, anyway, but Harry held her in place. "Now I know you can do better than that."

For the first time since she'd stormed in, Y/n grinned. It was small, but Harry counted the victory.

"You're trying to distract me," she said.

"Yes. Is it working?"

Y/n's smile grew a fraction. "Maybe."

Harry leaned in, and Y/n met him halfway, pressing their lips together. She tasted like vanilla, and Harry was inclined to taste as much as he could before the doctor arrived. Each kiss worked to melt Y/n, the hand resting on her cheek earning Harry a sweet little nuzzle in his palm when he eventually pulled away.

"I love you,"Harry said, kissing the tip of her nose.

"Love you too," she murmured, her hand reaching to hold the one he still had against her cheek as they waited for the doctor.

"Behave when the doctor gets here, please?"

"I always behave."

Now it was Harry's turn to scoff. He gave her one more kiss as he heard footsteps in the hallway drawing nearer to their door. "I'll remember you said that," he told her, pinching her cheek as a doctor and the same scared trainer entered the room.

"So, Harry. I heard you took a pretty nasty fall—"

"He needs to go to the hospital," Y/n cut in, that look of steel in her eyes once more.

Harry raised his eyes heavenward, bracing himself for a long night.

[mountttmase]

If I Lost You

Note - this fic was such a struggle for me but we’re here and we made it 😂 I know I haven’t uploaded in a really long time by my standards so I’d love to know what you guys think and also thank you to my besties for your help on this one, I couldn’t have done it without you 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 7k

Warnings - angst and fluff

There was nothing Mason hated more than traffic. Traffic coupled with a later than usual training session was even worse

He’d been sat pretty much stationary for around 20 minutes now, slowly moving every couple of minutes but he hadn’t made it far. Eventually turning his playlist over to the radio so he could listen out for traffic updates but the flashing blue lights up ahead let him know what was happening.

He was right in the thick of it, no option to turn around and go another way, but not close enough to the front to be able to get around it yet and when a few more police cars came up to join the scene he realised it must have been a bad crash.

So he did the only thing he could do and waited. His mind wandering off to far away places that he tried not to visit too often and once he realised he was starting to spiral he quickly switched the radio back over to his playlist so he could distract himself.

It was only around 15 minutes later he’s made it to the front of the line, watching the traffic warden wave a few cars forward at a time to drive into the oncoming lane to get round and soon enough it was his turn.

He knew he shouldn’t have, but there was something making him want to look at the scene as he drove by. Head turning to the left of him to see how bad it was and the sight before him shocked him to the core.

The car was on its side, bonet crushed from hitting a lamppost and he could tell the windows had been broken to get whoever was inside free but after a few seconds the realisation that something was wrong slapped him in the face.

He knew that car. It was yours.

It was the colour that alerted him first. That specific shade of light blue he’d only ever known you to have but as he looked closer he could tell it was the same make and model as yours too. The panic rising up his chest until he thought he might have been sick but the sound of beeping horns shocked him out of his trance.

He couldn’t sit and wait and let himself process anything, the traffic officer waving him forward but it was like he was having an out of body experience. He wanted to get out and find you, the urge to scream your name was on the tip of his tongue but he did as he was told and drove forward, leaving the scene of the crime behind him but he felt too weird to carry on too much longer and pulled into a side street so he could park up and sort himself out.

There wasn’t much he could do, you hadn’t spoken in months and the only other person the pair of you had in common would no doubt tear him a new one if he called asking after you and he also didn’t want to worry everyone if it was nothing. He still needed to do something though and In the end he decided to text you in hopes you’d get back to him soon and settle his mind. You always had your phone in your hand so he knew this was the easiest way to grab your attention and hopefully speak to you.

The rest of the drive home, albeit short, was a nightmare. He couldn’t concentrate on anything and was constantly messing up but he made it back in one piece. Running inside so he could turn the news on immediately, hoping for any sign of what had happened whilst he sat and panicked. Not being able to think about anything other than knowing you were okay.

This was hell, and he hated it. But the way he was feeling for you right now was mostly his own doing.

You’d met Mason a few years ago at the after party for the final of their euros. Your best friend's brother was Rashy and she’d invited you along to watch the final, and although it had ended in heartbreak there was a certain brown eyed boy you and the rest of the world couldn't seem to tear their eyes away from.

You knew it was over for you when he came over to console Marcus, seeing how genuinely kind and concerned he was for his friend made your heart thump and when the pair of you were finally introduced you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered over you.

He couldn’t stick around too long, needing to get back to his family but you caught eyes a few times throughout the night and when you were at the bar alone he used that as his in to come and speak to you properly.

It was his smile that caught you first, but it was hard not to notice his big brown eyes and musical laugh. In the end standing and chatting until the night was pretty much over and you had to go your separate ways but he gave you his number and made you promise to message him as soon as possible.

You didn’t know what you were expecting from Mason, but what you got was a blossoming friendship and you were more than thankful he was in your life. With you living in Manchester and him in London it was hard to see each other, Mason constantly referring to you as pen pals but you took what you could with him. Going to watch him play at Wembley sometimes and seeing him in the summer or whenever he has some free time for a few days gave you something to look forward to and you loved getting to know him on a deeper level.

It was very much a will they won’t they type of relationship. As much as you adored Mason, you didn’t want things to change and you knew long distance would be hard until just over a year had passed and you decided to take the plunge. The pair of you in Greece with a big group of the other boys and their girlfriends and Mason confessed he hated the thought of maybe seeing you with someone else and was willing to put the work in for you if that’s what you wanted.

And you really did.

Being Mason's girlfriend was everything you thought it could be and more. He was still his cute charming self but you felt free being able to be with him in the way you’d secretly always wanted. Your first kiss being a little awkward but he kept you relaxed and let you go at your own pace. Kissing all over your face until you were ready to try again and now it seemed as if you couldn't get enough of him.

It did come with its own set of challenges though. Being away from each other a lot of the time took its toll and even though when you were together you always made it count, the goodbyes were getting harder and Mason couldn’t stand to see you cry everytime he had to leave again. Or your sad face on FaceTime when you spoke in the evenings when you were apart, wishing he could reach out and touch you but he was never able to give you the comfort he so desperately wanted to.

It was around March of 2023 when it all came crashing down. Mason had a lot on his plate with an injury that wouldn’t go away and Chelsea’s new owners not treating him the way he should have been. You could tell he was more down than usual and planned a trip to go stay with him for a week so he’d have someone to come home to and someone to cuddle after a long day but at first you felt like he didn’t want you there at all.

You still remember the night before he ended it all. It’s like he was back to your Mason for a bit as you made dinner and spoke on the sofa until the early hours until you went up to bed. It was like he held you extra tight that night and whilst you figured it was just because he’d missed you and he’d had a nice night you now wondered if there was more behind it. Maybe thinking he should hold you properly if it was the last time and then out of the blue, he turned your world upside down the next morning.

He tried to give you the usual spiel of it’s not you it’s me and you were about to cuss him out for being so ridiculous but one look at him and you could see how much he was struggling. Telling you he hated that he couldn’t give you what you needed at that it broke him seeing you so down when he already had so much on his plate. You knew he needed to lighten his load, you just hated that it was you that would be cut off.

You didn’t argue with him, it being clear that he couldn’t take it but you spent the rest of your day packing up your stuff into the early evening where he made you stay for one more night so you weren’t driving home in the dark.

You felt stupid, making sure he was okay even though you felt like you were dying inside but you loved Mason and even though this was hurting you more than you could possibly imagine, you kept on a brave face for him. Telling him you’d still be there if he needed you and not to hesitate calling if he needed someone to talk to.

Sleeping in the guest room that night hurt more than anything he’d said to you over the last 24 hours but you remember him coming into your room at around two am as your cries had kept him awake. Holding you and shushing you in hopes you’d get some sleep but it didn’t work and all you wanted was to go back in time and undo everything he’d said but you couldn’t. So you stayed awake and tried to remember what it felt like to hold him, what he smelt like and how his skin felt pressed up against yours.

‘Can we make a deal?’ He whispered all of a sudden and you nodded into his neck in hopes he’d feel it, knowing your voice wouldn’t hold up if you tried to speak. ‘I want you to live your life and forget about me, yeah? Like if you meet someone new I want you to go for it. But in five years time, if we’re both single, do you think we could try again?’

‘I’ll see’ you whispered, knowing he wasn’t happy with that answer by the way he kissed your hairline softly but he let it go. Knowing he didn’t have a leg to stand on after what he was putting you through.

You left the next morning early, him giving you an emotional goodbye on his doorstep but you were ready to go home and be on your own now. Mason asking if you could still be friends and if he could text you and you stupidly agreed before getting away as fast as you could but you only made it one street away before you had to stop for a big cry. Wanting to get it all out before you began your drive home and after 15 minutes you set off again. Your phone going off every so often but you ignored it until you were back in the comfort of your flat and when you saw they were all from Mason you felt sadder than you expected to.

You were curious as to what he’d deleted but you didn’t have the energy to ask so you sent him a quick reply telling him you were fine and going to sleep before taking yourself straight to bed. Too tired to be upset or over think anything and when you woke up the next morning things still hurt but you’d resigned to your fate of being his friend again.

A friend.

So you spoke here and there for a while and even though you were broken it was a fairly easy split. You remained civil and on good terms and it broke you to see how unfairly he was being treated on the field and with his whole contract saga. He kept going though like the Mason you knew and loved but when the news hit he’d had surgery it felt like your world had tumbled upside down.

You felt useless, wanting to help him as much as you could but he was so far away and you’d already used up all your holiday so you did your usual and let him phone you when he needed a chat.

Not too long after his surgery everything seemed to fizzle out. Nothing happened as such but your texts and calls came few and far between until there was nothing and when the news broke he was moving to Manchester you felt too awkward to text him. Not wanting to give the wrong impression that you expected something from him now so you left it so he could come to you.

He never did though.

You weren’t sure why he didn’t, but Mason had his own reasons. Not wanting to drag you back into the mess of his life and the fact you’d stopped messaging him made him think you were done with him and he didn’t have the heart to face your rejection no matter how much you were on his mind.

So he moved to Manchester and didn’t reach out, even though he thought about it everyday, and tried to rebuild his life without you. He was doing well but you were always there in the back of his mind, even thinking he’d seen you a few times and his tummy jumped each time before he realised it wasn’t you. He’d wanted to message you more than anything but he didn’t have the guts, even though you’d both promised to stay friends the messages had become so few and far between and now there was nothing.

As soon as Mason was inside he ran to the living room to put the news on, pausing the TV as soon as it showed the aftermath of the accident so he could get a better look before playing again to where it was panning past what he thought was your car. He managed to stop it at a point to be able to examine it more carefully and he could feel the nerves rippling through him.

Same colour, same make and model, same sticker on the back window with where the car came from, different number plate…

Different number plate.

Mason let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t you. Someone was clearly hurt and that wasn’t good but he couldn’t deny he felt lighter at the fact it wasn’t you who was in harm's way. Falling back into the cushions of his sofa so he could take a few breaths to steady himself.

You were okay.

He felt a little silly now, panicking so much when you were clearly fine but as the minutes wore on he managed to talk himself back into a frazzled state.

He didn’t know what it was, not being able to settle and focus on anything but you. Now you were back on his mind, all he could see was your pretty eyes and perfect smile.

He knew nothing about you anymore. The only piece of information left being the address of your old flat and now he was getting to know the area he knew you weren’t too far away. But he didn’t know if you were there anymore and if he did turn up whatever the chances you would even want to see him?

What if you’d moved on? Surely Rashy would have told him but Mason couldn't stand the thought of turning up at your house and a random guy being there. No doubt he’d be taller than him and funnier and be able to make all the time in the world for you and the thought of seeing you with someone who’s everything Mason isn’t made him miserable.

It was like there was an itch in his brain that he couldn’t scratch, not able to settle as his mind came out with random questions to make him doubt what he already knew. He decided against messaging Rashy, presuming he wouldn’t have much of an idea either and he didn’t want to start worrying everyone unnecessarily if there really was nothing wrong.

Maybe he read it wrong and it was your number plate? Or maybe you’d changed your number plate and it was you all along? Why hadn’t you answered his texts yet either? Was there an innocent explanation or had he missed something and it really was you that was hurt?

The only thing he did know was that he couldn’t stay in and drive himself insane. Eventually coming to the conclusion that a run would clear his head so he quickly changed into some shorts and a hoodie before setting off. No particular place or destination in mind, just the need to let off some steam and clear his mind.

When the rain started to fall he cursed under his breath. Too far away from home to turn around and avoid it and also not done with his run as he was still feeling on edge so he grit his teeth and carried on. Weaving in and out of streets until he started to recognise where he was a bit more.

Maybe it was just a coincidence he ended up here, like in the back of his mind this is where he needed to end up to finally put his mind at rest but as he stopped to get his breath just outside of your building he only felt worse.

Your car which you always parked in the same spot was nowhere to be seen, and the flat he knew to be yours had all of the lights off but the curtains were open. Like you’d been out and not made it home yet to shut them and he felt sick to his stomach at the thought.

‘No no no no no’ he whispered under his breath, not understanding where your car was and it seemed like only the worst possible outcome was the right one.

He knew it was a bad decision to come here but he’d done it anyway and now his mind was spiralling more than he thought possible.

He thought about going home but the need to see that you were fine with his own two eyes outweighed everything else and before he knew it he was running up the path and standing outside your front door with his hand poised to knock.

What am I supposed to say? He thought. I thought you were dead so I came to check you were alright? No, he couldn’t but he knocked before he had a chance to think of anything else. Waiting anxiously as he heard a few noises from behind the door but if you were there then you were taking forever to answer.

As soon as you opened the door he felt his body flood with relief. Your hair was pointing up in all different directions and he could clearly see the pillow marks on your cheek. A shocked and confused expression painted your features as you realised who was standing in front of you but he just felt his heart swell before his face crumpled as he tried to hold the tears back.

‘Mase? Mase what’s wrong?’ You asked, reaching forward to touch him in some way but you second guessed yourself before you got there. Not knowing if he wanted you to touch him but he looked distraught so you pushed your thoughts to the side and pulled him into the doorway. ‘Mase, you’re soaked. Come inside, it’s okay’

‘I’m sorry’ he told you, his voice wobbling as you shut the door and the feeling of warmth engulfed him immediately. He felt self here.

This feels like home, he thought. The place was unchanged from when he was last here and he stood awkwardly in the hall as you shut the door before leading him into the living room just around the corner.

‘Sorry, you've caught me at a bit of a bad time’ you laughed as you tidied the blankets off of the sofa and reset the cushions so you both had a place to sit. Flustered that he’d turned up so randomly and in the back of your mind you wondered if it might have happened one day but you chalked it off as being a silly daydream in the end.

‘Danger nap?’ He asked and you felt your face flush at the way he’d caught on so quickly. ‘Don’t worry, I remember them well’

‘Well I’ve been having them a bit more frequently since I’ve got no one to tell me off anymore’ you joked but you saw his face drop ever so slightly. ‘Take a seat, you want a drink or anything?’

‘I’m fine, thanks’

‘You sure? I’ll get you a tea you look like you need warming up’ you told him softly before scurrying over to the kitchen and he felt his chest warm with how kind you were to him. Hearing the kettle flick down before you came back to close the curtains and then run over to the cupboard under the stairs. ‘Take your hoodie off Mase, you’ll catch a chill. I’ve got you a towel and I’ll turn the heating up’

‘Sorry, this is probably the last thing you needed tonight’ he sighed, grabbing the towel to run over his hair once he’d taken his hoodie off but the shoulders of his top were still wet and now he was sitting here waiting for you he felt silly.

‘No don’t worry about that, I know we haven’t spoken for a while but I always said I’m here if you need me’ you told him shyly. Sitting down next to him so you could place his tea on the table before sending him a reassuring smile

‘I know’ he huffed. ‘I just feel a bit dramatic now that’s all’ he told you, trying to laugh it off but you knew him and you knew something was on his mind.

‘What’s going on? Why are you here?’ You pushed gently, trying to get him to open up a little bit more and when his eyes fell to his lap you weren’t sure if he was about to tell you or not. Thankfully he did after a few moments but you weren’t prepared for the words that were about to tumble from his lips.

‘There’s um… well there’s been this big accident on the main road out of Manchester. It’s all over the news and I was stuck in traffic for like 45 minutes until I could get round it’ he told you but you were unsure as to why he was updating you on the traffic when you’d asked what he was so upset about.

‘Okay?’

‘The car that crashed… well I thought it was yours’ he told you, his voice wobbling at the end and you felt your heart shatter as you realised what was wrong now. ‘It’s the same colour and make and everything and I… well I was out of my mind worrying that… i don’t know that you were hurt or something-‘

‘Oh Mase’ you breathed, cutting him off as his voice got more and more emotional and all you wanted was to pull him into a hug but you weren’t sure if that was what he wanted. In the end you just reached for his hand and you were surprised at how tightly he gripped onto you.

‘Sorry I bet I sound insane’ he laughed, wiping his eyes with his free hand and you felt your heart break for him.

‘No no it’s okay’ you reassured him, placing your other around your already clasped ones. Hoping he’d keep on talking but you let him take his time as he was clearly overwhelmed and upset by everything that had happened tonight.

‘It was on the news and I saw it wasn’t your number plate so I thought you were fine but then i managed to talk myself out of thinking that and I tried to text you, but i didn’t hear anything back but I guess you were asleep’ he smiled, squeezing your hand gently and you smiled sadly back at him.

‘I never got a text from you, I don’t think I did anyway’ you told him. ‘I was only asleep for like ten minutes. I did see some texts but it was a number I didn’t recognise and I thought it was a scam thing so I didn’t bother looking properly cause the number wasn’t saved’

‘A scam?’

‘Yeah I keep getting those texts like Evri has your parcel but it’s damaged and the details are lost. Please send your address, bank details and blood type so we can attempt a redelivery’ you joked and you felt your tummy flip when he let out a little laugh.

‘No it’s my fault, my personal number got leaked a little while back and when I moved up here I thought it would be a good idea to get a new number. I texted most people but I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me so I just kept your number in my contacts. I completely forgot you wouldn’t have it saved’

‘You know that makes a lot of sense actually’ you smiled, watching his eyebrows pinch together in confusion and you thought his expression was adorable. ‘I sort of texted you last week. You know, after your goal? I didn’t hear back from you’

‘Shit, I’m so sorry’ he sighed, his free hand dragging down his face and you could tell he was annoyed with himself as he rolled his eyes.

‘No it’s alright-‘

‘No cause you probably thought I was ignoring you and I wasn’t’ he told you, almost pleading with you to make you believe him but you already did and when you sent him a soft smile he let out a big sigh he’d been holding in. ‘Where’s your car? It's not parked out the front?’

‘Chrissy upstairs moved out and I was next on the list for a spot in the underground car park so I park it down there now’ you explained, releasing how shaken he must have been and still was to know you might have been hurt and when one of your hands let go to touch his shoulder, his eyes snapped up to yours. ‘Are you alright, mase?’

‘No’ he whispered quietly, his glossy eyes looking back down to his lap and as much as you wanted to push him you also didn’t want to scare him off so you sat waited for him to come clean and tell you what was going on in his head. ‘I know it’s stupid but like… I realised if I lost you then… well it felt like my world was ending in all honesty’ he confessed, laughing slightly but you could tell there was no humour in it l. ‘I know that’s dramatic but all I could think about was everything I’d never told you, all the things I’d never be able to say to you again, you know? Never be able to hold you or kiss you…’

‘Kiss me?’ You whispered. Unsure as to why he’d said that at the end as you’d been broken up for almost a year now but you couldn’t deny his confession made your heart jump. If truth be told it hurt more than you thought it would when he didn’t reply to you a week ago and seeing him so heartbroken on your doorsteps just now was a shock. But the words falling from his lips right now were even more of a shock.

‘Sorry’ he mumbled, his voice thick with tears as he shook his head but you didn’t want him to shut down on you now. You wanted him to keep talking, to see if he’d say the things you’d been waiting a year for him to admit so you carried on stroking his skin and letting him get himself together.

‘No no it’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it’ you laughed, looking up at him to thankfully looking back at you with a small smile on his face. ‘Now’s your chance Mase, what do you wanna tell me’ you whispered, wondering if he’d say anything at all but ever the unexpected he said the last thing you thought he would.

‘I love you’ he whispered instantly. The words sending a tingle down your spine and you almost lost your breath. ‘I’m still so fucking in love with you and the though of you not being around anymore hurt more than I could tell you. Not that I’ve tried, but I can’t love anyone else like I loved you. Like I still love you, y/n’

‘Mase-‘

‘I know it’s been a while and you won’t feel the same but-‘

‘Mase stop’ you whispered, your eyes stinging at the thought of what he might be doing but the sincerity in his eyes kept a spark of hope alive. ‘Are you sure? I think you’re in shock a bit, you may want this now but what about in a month's time? Or two? I can’t go through feeling like that again’

‘I’m sure, i promise’ he nodded, dropping his eyes to his lap before taking a deep breath and you knew he had more to say. ‘I know we said if we were both single in five years we’d come back to each other but that’s too far away for me and I don’t wanna give anyone else the opportunity to have you. People like us, we’re meant to meet in a few years time when we both know who we are and what we want for ourselves but I don’t wanna do that. I want us to work through it all and grow together, you know?’

‘Mase-’

‘I pushed you away when I should have held onto you tighter. I think about you… all the fucking time and I can’t be without you’ he sniffled. ‘I know it’s incredibly selfish of me but I don’t want you to be just a chapter in my life when you’re the whole damn book baby’

You couldn’t help but laugh at his last line, your chuckles seeming to break the tension a little bit as he smiled at you and you could feel your heart in your throat at all the sweet words he’d spilled to you tonight.

‘Sorry I know it’s a lot but I just needed you to know’

‘Well thank you, and you know I care about you so much Mase-‘

‘Oh’ he sighed, trying to remove his hand from yours as you hadn’t told you him loved him back and he felt a bit embarrassed but that wasn’t your intention.

‘No Mase, wait I just… look it’s a lot to think about’ you laughed, squeezing his hand tighter so he couldn’t move away. ‘Just give me some time to take it in, yeah?’

‘Sorry’

‘No please don’t be sorry’ you told him before a quietness settled over you for a moment. Not really sure what you were wanting to say and knowing Mason had said enough for a lifetime tonight so you went back to what you thought you did best. Looking after him. ‘Listen, have you eaten? I’ve got a pasta bake to put in the oven and you know I always cook for about five people’

‘I haven’t eaten’ he laughed ‘Too busy worrying that you'd been flattened’ he joked, rolling his eyes and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh at his attempt at humour.

‘Well let me make us something to eat, And we can hang out a bit and catch up, yeah?’ You asked hopefully and thankfully he nodded in agreement.

So you made the pair of you some dinner before getting settled on the sofa. Keeping the tv volume on minimum so you could talk and it was like having the Mason you fell for back with you. But your heart broke even further when he explained to you how hard the last year had been for him, from being sold to the constant injuries and feeling pretty lonely up here some nights when it was just him and his family and friends had to go home.

Soon enough your plates had been discarded to the coffee table as it was your turn to open up. Not that you had as much to say but he was interested all the same in hearing about your life and getting up to date with all the people you used to talk about together. Updating him on your job and all the changes that had been made before he commented on how even with all the changes your flat was still the same and it made him feel happy.

‘Hey Mase?’ You asked quietly when you saw him try to suppress a yawn and you knew he’d realised you’d seen when the bridge of his nose turned red like you used to love.

‘Yeah?’

‘Do you wanna stay here tonight?’ You asked, his eyebrows shooting up in shock as he clearly hadn’t expected you to ask anything like that but now you had him back here you didn’t want to let him go.

‘W-what?’ He mumbled, scratching the back of his head like he did whenever he got nervous but you send him a reassuring smile in hopes that would help.

‘I mean you don’t have to, but it’s late now and I won’t be having you walking home or paying for an Uber. Unless you want me to drive you home-‘

‘No you can’t drive me, I don’t want you driving back on your own’ he argued back but you were both smiling so you let out a little laugh before being a bit firmer with him.

‘So you’ll stay then? And I’ll drop you home on my way to work?’

‘I think that could work’ he nodded but you knew he was shy about it even though he had no need to be.

‘Okay perfect’

‘Do you still keep that blanket in the cupboard?’ He asked and you felt a wave of disappointment flood you.

‘Oh I um…’ you trailed off, realising he’d got the wrong end of the stick and you knew you needed to set him straight no matter how awkward it might get.

‘What’s up?’

‘Well I thought you might want to sleep in my bed? You know like… with me?’ You explained, his face a mask of shock as the words left your lips but you knew you needed to put the idea out there.

‘Oh’

‘Sorry I’m being silly’

‘No I want to, I just didn’t wanna push it you know? I wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted’

‘I do’ you smiled. Holding your hand out for him to take and you felt your heart give a squeeze and he gently took it in his. ‘And I think it might be what you need’

‘I think so too,’ he laughed. A shy look on his face as you walked him through and into your bedroom and once you were inside you sent him a reassuring smile. ‘Get in, I’m just gonna use the bathroom and I’ll be with you’

You left him to sort himself out, quickly applying your skincare and trying to keep calm before returning to your room. Seeing Mason was already in bed and that he was still in his T-shirt but he’d stripped down to his boxers on the bottom half and you caught a cheeky flash of his thighs as you lifted the covers up.

You knew what you wanted, and what he probably wanted too so when you got yourself under the covers you turned away from him as you shuffled up close. Your back against his chest before taking his arm so you could wrap it around your body and you could tell from how stiff he was that he wasn’t expecting it but it only took a second for him to settle down and nuzzle into your neck.

‘I don’t think I need to wait until the morning’ you suddenly heard him whisper after a few moments and you felt your heart begin to pound. ‘I never ended things with you because I didn’t like you or I didn’t see us going anywhere. It was more that I didn't like myself. You’ve been the right person for me this whole time and I knew it long before we were friends, like it had always been my plan to make you mine and then when I finally got you I let you go’

‘Well you know what they say, Mase’ you whispered, holding him to you tighter and you felt him lightly kiss your shoulder. ‘If you love something you should set it free. And if it’s yours it’ll come back’

‘Will you come back to me then?’ He asked, his voice sounding more vulnerable than he intended it to. ‘Cause I’ll always come back to you’

‘I think we can work something out’ you whispered and you felt him stiffen before moving back so he could roll you over to face him. His eyes wide and glossy as he looked at you and you could tell you’d taken him by surprise.

‘Really? You’d wanna try again?’ He asked. Lip wobbling and it all became too much for him so you reached out to stroke his cheek and catch a few of the stray tears.

‘It just wasn’t our time back then, Mase. I get that now and yeah it sucked but if it’s really what you want then it’s what I’ve wanted since things ended’ you told him softly. Kissing the end of his nose as he shut his eyes softly. ‘I’ve been yours from the second you looked at me’

‘I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want this, or if you were seeing someone else’

‘Well lucky for you, you don’t have to worry about any of that’ you told him and you didn’t miss the look of relief on his face. ‘Things will be easier now we're closer okay? We can see each other more and all the things that drove us apart won’t be a problem’

‘You really think it’ll be that simple?’ He whispered, the hope in his eyes made you want to reassure him even further.

‘I think so, yeah. You said earlier you still loved me right?’

‘I did’ he laughed, not meeting your eyes as he blushed and you thought he was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.

‘I still love you too’ you whispered, so quietly you thought he might now have heard you but from his reaction you knew he did. Letting out a shuddery breath before he hid his face. Giving you room to kiss all over his cheek until he had the courage to look at you again. ‘Shall we go to sleep?’ You offered, noticing how exhausted he was after a long evening and once he’d nodded you turned back onto your side and let him hold you close. Smiling at the way he was kissing your shoulder softly and nuzzled into your neck.

‘Hey Mase? Can I ask you something before we go to sleep?’

‘Anything’ he whispered, and the sound of his voice made your heart jump. Knowing he really would answer absolutely answer anything you asked him and this was something that had been plaguing your mind for a year.

‘That day I left to come home and you texted me the whole way, what did the message say that you deleted?’

You felt him let out a small chuckle, squeezing you a little before huffing and you knew it was something he probably never wanted to admit. You didn’t want to push him if that was the case but after a moment you felt his lips on your shoulder again as he began to speak.

‘It said, I think I’ve made a mistake. Can you come back and we’ll talk’ he told you quietly and you felt your heart pound at his confession. ‘I gave it ten minutes and said to myself if you hadn’t replied in that time then it wasn’t meant to be’

‘Mase’ you whispered, your eyes full of tears as a wave of regret from not checking your phone washed over you but he was quick to reassure you everything was fine.

‘It's okay, I’m glad you missed it’ he laughed. ‘It would have only made things worse probably. I needed that time to go through whatever was going on and realise how much I actually need you. Cause I really do’

‘I’m here’ you mumbled, turning you head to look at him and his whole face lit up as he looked down at you.

‘So am I. And I’m never going anywhere again okay?’

‘Me too’ you told him firmly before he finally lent down and placed the softest kiss to your lips. A feeling you’d waited almost a year for and when he pulled back to look at you, you almost felt disappointed but you could tell he was greedy for seconds. Diving right back in but with a bit more force this time and you let him do as he wished thankful the universe had brought him back to you.

[margotw10bis]

Crashing On Crush.JJK 1 [m]

crush!Jungkook x reader

Genre: smut; series; romance; angst

Words: 2.3k

Synopsis: What happens when your first encounter with your crush is Jungkook seeing your ass?

Warnings: sexual tension; alcohol consumption

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Your first encounter with Jungkook was... embarrassing. The truth is that timing isn't really your friend and you had another proof of that.

Your hand digging through your purse to find your goddamn phone that was ringing - you were waiting for a very important phone call after a job interview -, Jungkook, suddenly opening the front door of your best friend's apartment, was welcomed with a very vivid image: your ass and your pussy barely covered by your baby blue thong, up in the air while you were bend over since your bag was on the floor. Maybe a little context is needed here to explain how you could possibly end up in this situation.

Suzi, your best friend you met few years ago on your first day of college, has been begging you to go clubbing. She knows you don't really like it: you don't like loud music, annoying guys trying to hit on every women and dancing in the middle of a hot and sweaty crowd. At the end, you're always bored in the club. But Suzi loves it. She even met her boyfriend in one.

Taehyung and her have been dating for almost ten months now and they just recently moved in together. You can really see how happy Suzi is when she talks about him. She is madly in love with him. And you have seen Taehyung enough to say the same thing about him, even if you're not as close to him as you are to Suzi.

Anyway, let's go back to the most embarrassing moment of your existence.

After hours of Suzi bawling in your ears to go to the club, you've surrendered. She invited you to spend the afternoon at her place after school so you could talk and then get ready together. You were at the very beginning of it: you only had time to put on make-up and your matching baby blue lace bra and thong after your shower when you heard your phone. You knew it was the call you were waiting for. A few days earlier, you had a job interview for an art gallery of Seoul. So, when the first ringtones started, you just ran to your handbag you had left in the entrance.

And there you are. Jungkook facing your pretty ass as he has just passed the door. You gasp when you hear the door and turn around as fast as you can. However, not fast enough to have spare him the show. This is officially the most embarrassing, awkward moment of your life. Especially when you have a huge crush on Jungkook. You haven't met the guy yet but you know he's Taehyung's best friend. And since Suzi and him start dating, you have been following Tae on Instagram. When you saw a pic of the two guys together, you couldn't help yourself and you clicked on Jungkook's profile. By now, you know all his posts by heart and you get so excited when he posts a new photo of him. He is so handsome, so hot. His long black hair, his right arm covered in ink, his lip piercing... Everything in him screams 'I know I made your panties wet'.

But now, while you were looking forward to your first encounter with him tonight - other than the hundred scenarios you've made up in your mind at night dreaming about him -, you've just ruined the tiny, little chances you could have had with him.

You blush so hard that you're sure your whole face is red. Your open mouth doesn't even know what to say and he looks just as surprised as you. You feel so... humiliated that you just grab you bag and escape to Suzi's bedroom. Your heart beats so fast and loud from the embarrassment. How can you face him now?

You vainly try to calm down before answering to the phone. Even the great news of your hiring doesn't warm up your heart. All you can think about is that you met your crush and the first thing he saw was your ass.

What you don't know is that, beside the surprise, Jungkook is kind of satisfied with the view that welcomed him. How can he not be happy to see such a beautiful butt? The baby blue of your thong is such a flattering color for your skin. You looked so sexy. Not so much because of your foxy underwear but because of your body. A perfect body he'd dare to say. At the same time, when he saw the embarrassment on your face, Jungkook also thought that you were cute. He knows who you are: his best friend couldn't shut up about his girlfriend and showed him so many photos of her. In some of them, you were there. Your beautiful smile caught his eyes. And Tae also told him that you were in his apartment before inviting Jungkook to go on without him because he had some stuff to grab in his car. The mere annoyance of being left out by this best buddy instantly vanished when he opened the door. Even now, without the sight of your body, his cock is hard, a pleasant memory of your first encounter.

Suzi looks at you with a questioning look.

"I just had the worse moment of my life!" You tell her

"Stop dramatizing"

"Jungkook is here. And he saw my ass!" You are almost crying but your best friend bursts into laughing. "Suzi, this is not funny! How can I face him now?"

"Well, I think he should thank you, you gave him one kind of a show!" She teases

You gently slap her arm to make her stop mocking you.

"Relax! I'm sure this is not the first time he's seeing a butt. And yours is pretty hot. I'm sure he won't be mad at you. Maybe, it'll even make him interested in you"

What a lucky girl you are! Your crush will only care about you because you showed him your bum...

"Look, Y/N" Suzi says more seriously "You can't hide here. So get ready, and let's go. If you feel too embarrassed, get drunk, you won't think about it"

You wince. Suzi doesn't have the best idea but she's right about one thing: you can't stay here forever. So you pull yourself together and try to gather all the courage you have.

———

After thirty minutes in the club, the loud and unpleasant music slaughtering your ears, you've decided to keep on with your strategy: avoiding Jungkook at all costs. You don't look at him, you stay away from him and you try hard to forget what happened. The only problem is that he makes it so damn hard. He is so attractive in his black shirt and black slacks. The outfit compliments so well his fit body. You get even more annoyed that you force yourself to not enjoy it while a beautiful blond girl is flirting with him at the other side of your group's booth. You can't help thinking "it was supposed to be me!". You've waited so long to finally meet Jungkook and this... incident ruined everything. It's so unfair. You've been crushing on him for months and it's this blond girl who's known him for five minutes who is laughing seductively by his side.

And your best friend is nowhere to be seen. She is probably dancing with Taehyung.

You are so, so mad right now. With you for letting your fucking phone in the fucking entrance when you fucking knew you were waiting for a phone call. With Jungkook who couldn't arrive one minute later. With the whole universe for the legendary bad luck of yours.

You grab your glass while you sigh, and drink up one shot the rest of your cosmo. And it's not a good one. Yep, you really don't like clubs. You really don't like to dance either. More than that: you hate it. But you hate even more seeing this girl flirting with Jungkook so you get up and walk to the dance floor. Thanks to the two glasses of the vodka based cocktail you've drank before, you feel less reticent to move - shyly - your body. Your tight and short navy dress goes up a little when you lift your arms to 'dance'. You are not really seductive at the moment since your moves are not smooth - which your uncomfortable high heels don't help either. But you allow your head to empty. You don't think about anything, especially not about Jungkook's eyes on your ass.

Well...

Maybe you do think a little about that and the alcohol shifts the memory into something arousing. You are wearing the sexier underwear you own. And let's get honest: you chose it because of Jungkook. You were kind of wishing to finish the night with him. You were wishing him to see your ass in this thong. And he did. The simple thought of his gaze on you makes your pussy clench. You've seen his face a hundred time on Instagram and you are still surprised by his handsomeness. He is way hotter in real life. You can't argue his 'I know I make your panties wet' look because you are wet because of him. For him. Your brain full of this horniness, you forget everything, you forget the world around you.

You even forget that Jungkook, the man who is responsible for your condition, is in the same club. And you don't know that he is looking at you. Since you left to join the crowd of dancing people, Jungkook has been observing you. Your slow moves and above all your dress getting higher on your thighs turn him on. Especially when he knows what is underneath your tight dress. He more or less managed to control his erection until now. He stays seated to hide his stretched crotch. But he can't resist anymore. He doesn't even listen to the blond girl next to him. She is hot, for sure, but he doesn't care. She is not as hot as you. He hesitates to join you because he is afraid to make you uncomfortable: you haven't even looked at him since you all arrived here.

But when he sees a random dude looking at you with greed and approaching you, he jumps out of his seat and virtually runs to you.

You feel a strong body behind you. At first, you think it's just a guy trying to hit on you by rubbing himself on you. But then you realize that the person in your back doesn't move. Intrigued, you turn around and gasp by surprise when you see Jungkook. You want to say something but your brain can't make something out. Jungkook notices it and saves you from - another - embarrassing moment:

"Can I have a dance?"

Your heart skips a beat. Thanks to the colored spot, he can't see you blushing, hard. You just manage to nod and he puts his big and warm hands on your waist. It feels so soft, so right that you rant about the barrier of the dress between your bare skins. The feeling is so good, you almost moan. Your hands rest chastely on his large shoulder, too shy to touch him more than that even if you die to do so. His black shirt doesn't prevent you from catching how buff he is.

"This outfit suits you so well" he tells you with a playful smile. You don't get that Jungkook is actually not talking about your dress but about your underwear. Nevertheless, the compliment makes you wet and you press your tights together to avoid any leak. It doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook who smirks. He loves to see the effects he has on women but he loves it even more on you.

You feel fogged. You don't know if it's because of the alcohol, because of the heat due to the dance and the crowd around you, or because of Jungkook. Your moves are getting messier and sloppier, you barely stand on your legs. Jungkook notices it and he frowns, immediately worried about you.

"Y/N, are you okay?" He asks

"I need some air" you manage to say so low you're not sure if he has heard you or if he has guessed the words on your lips

Jungkook grabs you closer to him to support you and leads you to the door. You wish you could enjoy more the sensation of his body pressed against yours.

The cold air slapping your face, your arms and your exposed thighs makes you jolt. It's not much that the breeze is freezing because it's not - Seoul's June is actually quite hot -, but it's the difference between the suffocating heat of the club and the pure air of the outside. You can't tell if you're feeling better or worse.

"Are you okay?" Jungkook asks once again. He gently cups your face with his large and warm hands. It's so heartening you want to close your eyes and press your cheeks deeper into them. He looks at you straight in the eyes, trying to scan your face. His big doe eyes are so pretty, even with furrowed brows.

"I don't feel too well. I think I'm going to head home. You can go back inside"

"I'm coming with you"

You can't help but feeling two contradictory emotions: your heart warming by Jungkook's kindness and guilt of ruining his night.

"No, you don't have to, I can call a cab"

But he doesn't listen to you, you can see it by the determination in his dark eyes.

"I'm coming with you" His words validating your assumptions.

"My bag is inside"

"Let's go grab it and then I'll take you home"

Well, it was certainly not the way you thought spending the night with your crush...

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[flawdchaos]

Lips of an Angel

Lando Norris x Reader

based on lips of an angel by hinder (if you haven’t heard this song pls listen to it because it’s a banger and this is heavily based on it.)

tw: angst, kinda sorta cheating, reader and lando being dummies

a/n - hi friends, this is my first time writing for f1. i’ve written before on here and took a break to study on class work. i’ve fallen back into my f1 phase and dreamt this up on the way into work tonight. i hope you enjoy, feel free to give me feedback. thank you xx

word count - 1500 (ish)

Lando’s room illuminated from the soft glow of his phone on the bedside table, buzzing against the base of the lamp. He moved as delicately as he could, careful to not wake the girl sleeping on his chest, to see who could be calling so late. He rubbed his eyes and squinted reading the name across his screen, the name he chose to disguise Y/N’s contact.

JULIE - MARKETING.

He slid out from under the girl, tiptoeing to the hallway before whispering a hello through the phone.

“Lando?” the voice shook through the phone. “Lando, I’m sorry.” he could hear it now, the sniffles and uneven breaths - she was crying. He crept down the hallway a bit more in an attempt to gain distance from his bedroom and sleeping companion.

“Y/N, why are you crying? Is everything alright?” he whispered, being met with only sniffles. “I’m in the living room. I have to whisper. What’s wrong?” He was growing impatient in her silence, the worry growing each minute he was on the phone call.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this - this pretending. I want you for myself. Call me selfish,” she took a deep breath in “, but I deserve you - not her.”

She had never been this brash before but he couldn’t blame her. After months of secret conversations, shared glances, and hugs that lingered just a little too long - he had to agree with her.

What they shared wasn’t meant to happen in the first place. Lando and Y/N had been in the same friend groups for years, only knowing each other mutually. It stayed that way until one night when they found themselves alone at the bar, friends having left long ago. One too many drinks and the heavy hand of the bartender led them back to Lando’s flat in London. They agreed the next morning, for the sanctity of their ‘friendship’ it would never happen again - but, they were both lying to themselves and they knew it. One night turned into two and before they realized it, the rest of Lando’s winter break was shared mostly in the sheets of his bed. It was only when he was leaving back to Monaco that things came to a halt abruptly. No conversation or discussion of what the hell had just happened over the past few months, just radio silence on both ends. It was an unspoken ending between the two.

That was until a couple months later and during Lando’s first podium of the season that he found himself wishing she were there to celebrate with him. Drunkenly, he debated his options and finally decided to send her a text telling her just how much he missed her and the things they would do. His text sat unattended in her messages for the rest of the night because while Lando was thinking of her, she was doing everything she could to forget about him - and this included making the same trek home from the bar with a stranger. Come morning the only thing the pair was left with was regret.

Y/N was the first to reach back out again after his crash in Las Vegas. She couldn’t admit to her friends just how shaken it had her but she tossed and turned in the bed for over an hour before picking up her phone.

Glad you’re okay. Try to stay out of the wall next time, yeah?

Her name lighting up his phone had his heart beating almost as fast as the adrenaline of crashing did. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as his mind raced on what to say. It was late in the UK so his response would probably go unnoticed until the morning. Or - had she stayed up that late to watch him race? Or should he say crash.

“What’s got you stumped, mate?” Max’s voice broke him from his daze as he glanced over his shoulder. “Y/N, aye? Just admit it.”

Lando’s head shot up to meet Max’s stare. “Admit what?���

“That you’re fucking whipped. I’ve seen you stalking her instagram.”

Something about Max’s words ignited a feeling within him. For the first time in his “playboy” career - Lando Norris was scared of his feelings.

—

It wasn’t long after the Las Vegas Grand Prix that Y/N had noticed a shift in Lando. He was almost nonexistent on her social media - no likes, hearts or story views. She chalked it up to the busy life he lived but when she clicked through his ‘close friends’ instagram story, her heart fell to her stomach. Lando had his arms wrapped around another girl, lips pressed against her cheek in front of a mirror. All of her questions and doubts were confirmed with a simple click and despite him owing her anything, she felt betrayed. Y/N couldn’t deny it anymore - the time she had spent with Lando was a whirlwind and no matter how many nights she spent curled up in bed, their bodies pressed together, she was always left wanting more.

On the mornings she woke before him, which had been every morning except two, she had found herself tangled in his arms feeling safe and secure. The true depth of her feelings came to be when she slowly awoke one morning to Lando running his arms down hers and placing a soft kiss on her forehead, vowing to return shortly. He stuck true to his promise when he crept back into the bedroom, two cups of tea tucked safely in his hands. She realized then that a small snippet of a domestic life with Lando was all she ever wanted but when he spoke again, the reality of their situation came back into play.

“Max is coming over in an hour to set up some stuff for the new Youtube video. I don’t mean to rush you but I figured our secret was still between us.” She nodded and hummed before taking another sip of her tea.

“Sure thing. I’ll be gone as soon as we finish our tea.”

-

Y/N finally realized, after viewing Lando’s story, that she had to move on. Find somebody to distract her from the replays of her intimate moments shared with Lando - and so she did. The pair both settled into mediocre “relationships” to distract themselves from the constant longing they had for each other. Subtle posts made to stories in hopes to cause jealousy in each other were made almost weekly. Lando had been seeing a girl one of his mates had set him up with, and Y/N had met a guy at a bar in London on a girls night out. Neither of them were unhappy, per se, but nothing matched the energy that the pair had shared before. On nights after rough races and a few drinks, Lando would have dreams that the girl in his arms wasn’t who had been currently seeing but Y/N instead. One dream had sent him over the edge and he had called her that night to hear her voice.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. His longing was quickly turning into regret as he realized this was probably a mistake before her soft voice filled the phone, she was whispering.

“Lando?” his heart was racing at the mere sound of her voice.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to wake you.” he said, hand raising to his mouth as he started biting at his fingernails.

“It’s okay, are you alright?”. She was still whispering.

“Uhm,” he began, shuffling his feet against the rug below him. “Fuck. This is so stupid…but I had a dream about you. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“A dream? About me?” he could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone, probably trying to put distance between her and her partner just like he had done.

“Yeah. A dream. It isn’t the first one I’ve had either.” They were both silent for a moment before he continued. God, why was he admitting this. “And I guess they’ve just helped me realize some things.” His heart was beating so hard that he figured she could hear it through the phone. A sharp intake of breath from her end of the phone had him biting at his nails again.

“What things, Lan?” Lan. He hadn’t heard her say that in months.

“My girl’s asleep in the next room. John is probably in the room next to you asleep. We’re kilometers and kilometers apart but yet, despite all of that, every time I close my fucking eyes all I see is you. All I hear is you laughing. I dream of you.” He sat down, head in his hands. “I guess I never really moved on, Angel.” The nickname had given her long ago falling effortlessly from his lips.

He wouldn’t have been surprised if she hung up the phone, called him a dickhead, and never spoke to him again. All of the worst options lived in his head. The last thing he expected her to say was,

“Lan, I dream of you too.”

[ssahotchnerr]

Everyone on the team receives an anonymous hand made Valentine’s card, except for Hotch. He tries not to show his disappointment and quickly walks away into his office while the team try to guess who has made then. Later in the day, when the others have gone home, reader knocks at Hotch’s office door, saying something like that they wanted to give him his card personally because it’s even more special than the ones for the team. And it’s an invitation to dinner.

something good

happy valentine's day pt 2! 🥰 cw; a touch of angst, alcohol mention, fluff!!!!

aaron should've known.

he was viewed as the boss, and that was that. merely a position of authority; not necessarily a colleague, and not necessarily a friend.

and it's always been that way. groups quieted upon his approach, eye contact was scarce amidst conversations- as if meeting his gaze would give him reason to absolutely rip them to shreds. by now, enduring so for years, he'd gotten used to it. he had to. so why should he expect to be treated any differently?

however, he refused to lie to himself, he'd give himself that. he didn't try to fight the stinging sensation in his chest, which had been present all day. it hurt, hearing and seeing the team gushing over valentines that had been placed anonymously on their desks that morning. trying to use their profiling skills to determine who had done such; penelope nearly stirred up a frenzy, morgan's laugh had rang loudly through the bullpen, everyone had compared the kind messages left for them.

meanwhile, aaron's desk had been empty. and he simply observed the joyful scene from the safety of his office.

whoever was responsible- the thought would've been nice, at least.

valentine's day was just like any normal day, if it weren't for the cards strategically placed amongst the desks, aaron probably wouldn't have even recalled the holiday to begin with.

that, however, was the lie. he knew what day it was. february fourteenth had been special, years ago. but now, it instead brought an impending sense of dread, one that was impossible to ignore; the reminder of yet another day spent alone. his night, when he finally made it home, would more likely than not consist of a glass of whisky and maybe a few episodes of law and order before crashing.

"hotch? you have a second?"

your voice caused him to lift his head, pulling him from his sea of thoughts. "yes?"

"i- um. wanted to give you this."

aaron's eyes perked up instantly, and a touch of embarrassment quickly swept through him. he felt childish almost, at his eagerness; the want to be included.

"i'm sure you noticed, the valentines." with the pink slip in your hand, you used to to reference the bullpen. "penelope wasn't very subtle about it."

"i did." aaron commented, hoping the blush present in his cheeks wasn't too visible. one of his eyebrows quirked up in question. "and they were from you?"

you bit down on your bottom lip, but the action didn't quite stop your smile. "guilty."

"well, that was very thoughtful of you. it lifted everyone's spirits, that's for sure."

"yeah i thought... i don't know. every day we come in to heaps of files on our desk, and aren't exactly doing jumping jacks at the sight of them. so i thought it'd be nice to have something different, for once. something good."

aaron's lips almost pulled into a smile, recalling the earlier antics and his next inquiry caused your cheeks to flush. "and you sent yourself one?"

"hey, self love." you were quick to quip back, laughing softly but with a shake of your head. "i was trying to be discrete. if i were the only one to not receive a card, that'd be awfully suspicious and defeat the whole purpose, don't you think?"

'if i were the only one', aaron's chest warmed. you hadn't forgotten him, there had been one with his name on it all along.

"but..." you adjusted your weight from one foot to the other, suddenly exhibiting nervousness. aaron recognized your small movement, knowing it as one of your tells. that, and your habit of chewing the inside of your cheek. "yours, i wanted to hand deliver."

aaron couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "you did?"

"it's special. like you." you rushed out in a breath, and if aaron's blush hadn't been present before- it definitely was now. you handed the valentine to him rather quickly, before you could chicken out. "and i wanted you to know it was from me."

silence fell over aaron, feeling absolutely touched. he didn't know what to say.

"happy valentine's day." you gave him another smile, still leaving him speechless, and heading out of his office.

before you had fully exited the room, aaron opened the valentine. his eyes skimmed over your loopy handwriting- and the feeling in his chest intensified. the contents included you thanking him, for looking out for you and the team as a whole. you had emphasized how safe he made you feel, and how you felt extremely lucky to have someone like him protecting you in midst of the horrors you saw daily. he gave you a comfort you never thought possible, and you couldn't picture receiving so from anyone else. the ending however, made his heart skip a beat.

and whenever you're free- dinner? you and me?

he's always been drawn to you, in more ways than another, but he had never acted upon them. he couldn't quite figure out how to approach you like that, and he regretted every chance he didn't take. but now, you've given him the perfect opportunity.

aaron, paperwork completely forgotten and disregarded, didn't hesitate to go after you. "wait!"

you met his gaze as he exited his office- you had just begun collecting your things to head home. everyone else had already gone.

"yes?" a smile tugged at your lips, heart fluttering.

"i'm free right now. if... you are?"

[cc--2224]

older hunter x reader pregnant in pabu

Next Steps

Pairing: Hunter x F! Reader

Summary: Following the events on Mount Tantiss, Hunter and the rest of the Bad Batch are finally able to relax and enjoy the time they have, you and Hunter decide that means planning next steps together.

Warnings: All fluff, slight anxiety mentions, obviously pregnancy mentions as that was the request, maybe slight S3 Finale spoilers?

Word Count: 1.3k

Notes: Thank you so much for sending a request, anon!! I really hope you enjoy it!! As a reminder, my requests are going to be open for a bit so send me some if you'd like! :)

Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added

Masterlist

Ever since they had landed on Pabu for the last time, they had all finally begun to relax, to plant roots, to get to know the villagers. Even Crosshair had seemed more open to socializing with the locals, to learning their trades.

Hunter had always had trepidations about getting too comfortable. 

Back when you had first met, a few years ago now, he expressed that he wanted to get adjusted, to finally sit down and relax but he always felt as if he was looking over his shoulder.

When the island had been attacked by the Empire, you understood what he meant. But everyone was still determined to keep each other, and their mercenary friends, safe.

Part of you feared that when they left to go get Omega back that it was the last time you would ever see them, whether that meant that they wouldn't put Pabu in danger and kept themselves away, or worse. You didn't want that, not only because you liked having them around, liked hearing their stories, sharing meals, but because you knew that you had developed feelings for Hunter in the short time you knew each other. 

You couldn't recall a time where you were more worried for someone's safety than you were after they had left Pabu to find Omega.

You wanted to protect him, to make him feel safe on the island, but you also knew that with everything they had experienced, that was easier said than done.

It only became more difficult once you began to fear you'd lose him for good.

So when they finally returned, you decided to throw caution to the wind. You didn't want anymore missed opportunities, he had to know how you felt about him.

You waited for them to leave the Imperial shuttle, and as soon as he emerged on the gangplank, you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him and crashing your lips into his.

He was rightfully surprised, but after the initial shock wore off, you felt his arms on your back, pulling you into him and feeling like they were going to crush you. He kissed back with desperation and relief washing over him.

When you finally broke apart, you held his face in your hands while his hands stayed firmly on your waist. You felt your eyes water, and you saw the same in him. 

"I'm home." He finally said. "And I'm never leaving you again."

It had been years since then, and true to his word, he never left you. He eventually moved his belongings into your house, and the two of you settled into the next stages of your domestic life together. You got to watch as your lives seemed to fall into place. The island changed around you, improvements, infrastructure, villagers’ families growing. Hunter began growing out his beard, no longer concerned about hating the feeling of facial hair against the helmet that he rarely ever put on. 

Things became simple, time slowed, your lives could finally begin.

You still remembered the conversation you had one afternoon, sitting on the front porch with him, watching Omega play with Lyana, Batcher, and the other three clone children. 

"Do you want one of our own?" He had asked, looking at you earnestly.

You raised an eyebrow, "Want one what?"

"A kid."

You smiled at him and glanced over to the kids playing.

"We have Omega," you reminded him and he chuckled.

"I know, and she'll always be our kid, but she's growing up. Won't be long until she starts living her own life." He looked down at his lap and you reached over to hold his hand, you knew how much the thought of Omega leaving upset him.

"I don't think she'd mind having a little brother or sister." He said when he looked back at you.

"No, I don't either." You drew him close and kissed him on his lips, showing him your agreement to his idea. 

— — —

"Hunter? Are you home?" You called out from the entryway to your house. You were met with silence and shrugged.

Must have gone out.

You had gone to the doctor that morning on Hunter's insistence. He had been hovering around you for a few weeks, as if he had been waiting for a shoe to drop. He didn't know what it was about you that was different, something in your scent, or a change in your pulse, something that he could sense but couldn't pinpoint the source.

You knew better than to argue with his keen senses, but you couldn't help but get a little annoyed with his overprotection.

The doctor had confirmed that you were pregnant, only a few weeks along, and you nearly cried at the news. You couldn't wait to tell Hunter, even if you knew he'd tell you he knew you should have gone to the doctor earlier. 

You decided to wait for him at home. You put on some tea and grabbed your datapad before sitting on the couch.

He finally walked through the door with some produce from the market, smiling at you when he saw you. He walked past you, but not before kissing the top of your head, and left the groceries in the kitchen.

"I went to the doctor's this morning." You did your best to keep your tone level, ambiguous.

It worked, seeing as how his cheerful demeanor had vanished completely when he poked his head out.

"...And?"

You stood up and looked at him. "Hunter, I–" your voice wavered, partially due to excitement, but partially due to nerves.

"I'm pregnant." 

His eyes widened as he looked into yours, then down to your stomach, then back up to your face. "You– What?"

Tears started forming in the corners of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby!"

He crossed the room before you could even register that he had moved. His arms circled your waist and you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and spun.

When he placed you back down, he pulled you to him and kissed you. Tears began rolling down your face as you laughed into the kiss. 

He looked at you and swept his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping away the tears even though his own nearly betrayed him.

You didn't hear the door open, but you heard Omega's voice ring out behind you.

"Is everything okay?"

You both looked at her, you smiled and nodded before opening your arm for her to join your hug. 

She did without hesitation.

"Omega," Hunter began. "Remember how I asked if you'd be alright if there was another kid running around?"

She looked at him and nodded, but then her eyes widened in realization and she looked at you, then Hunter, and then back to you.

"You're not–"

"I am." More tears fell as she wrapped her arms around you. 

"Congratulations!" Her smile widened as she looked at both of you. "I have to go tell Crosshair and Wrecker! They owe me ten credits each!"

She ran out the door before you could stop her and you looked at Hunter and shook your head.

"The whole island will know before long." You sighed.

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Are you ready?" You asked him cautiously.

He looked at you, thinking for a moment. "Honestly, I don't know. I mean, it's been a while since we've settled in here, but sometimes it still feels like the peace isn't going to last. I know that's just my own anxieties, but it's hard to shake the feeling, you know?"

You nodded and looked down. He put his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple.

"But, we have each other through this. I won't let anything happen to you, or our kid. So I think I am. It helps knowing how much support they'll have when they get here. And how wonderful of a mother they're going to have." 

You leaned into his chest. "And father." 

You felt a laugh rumble from him. This was the next step for both of you, and it was a scary step to take, but despite Hunter's worries, you knew you were both ready to face this together. 

[lonelystarrs]

English Jewel

Everything was going great for Reo -he got his treasure back and playing with him in England together like they promised. He had Nagi all to himself again -until you came along, Nagi’s English Jewel. Nagi had no experience in relationships or girls so Reo thought until he crashed at your place after a night out.

Blue Lock Nagi Seishiro x FemReader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI aged up 20+ reo & nagi three years into Manshine contract in England �� Handjobs (male receiving) • smut • fluff •

Nagi had no idea moving to England would change his life as drastically as it did. Packing was a hassle, moving into new accommodation was a bother, adjusting to new time zones was a drag. But it was all worth it for his pursuit in soccer, he’d never felt so enthusiastic for something in his life.. He enjoyed the company too, not feeling so abandoned by his parents anymore.

Reo was happy because their promise was kept, Nagi’s enthusiasm for soccer had intensified and playing alongside his treasure was all Reo could have dreamed of happening at this point.

It was all finally going his way, 3 years into their contract with Manshine taking the boys into their early 20’s.

It was great for both, not so much for Reo when Nagi met you.

Yeah, when Reo’s little treasure met his own thing to awe at, that being you who adopted the title of Seishiro’s little English jewel.

Reo thought it would fizzle out quickly because Nagi had no experience with girls or relationships, it would all be too much of a bother because relationships required effort and consistency. Something Nagi struggled with on a daily basis for basic life functions for himself, let alone another.

He didn’t like his spare time taken up, he wanted time to play video games, watch videos and just play soccer so that left him short on time for himself. Why would he waste more time on a girl, especially when he was soaring in his career so early on?

Nagi never took interest in anyone back in Japan, unless they were a virtual being on his screen he found no interest in real things. -oh maybe Choki, who he actually brought over to England with him.

Nagi only bothered with things that sparked him, that made him want to put effort in.

Unfortunately for Reo, into you his friend was. Scarily so for someone who had no experience in relationships.

“What do boyfriends do, Reo?”

“What are girls laughing about when they say guys can’t find it?”

“Uh, have you had sex yet Reo?”

Nagi wasn’t just a virgin in a sexual sense, but a complete virgin when it came to relationships in general. Nagi being Nagi though started acing everything without much effort, quickly becoming a great boyfriend like it was second nature. But how he had got to his 20’s without so much as even kissing a girl Reo didn’t understand.

So how did Reo end up in this situation now? Nagi going from a questioning virgin and asking him for advice a few months ago to listening to you almost bullying his friend sexually and Nagi enjoying it. Reo was pretending to be asleep on the giant sofa across from you guys from a night out, after a successful soccer win for their team.

You had turned up to the celebration party after, Nagi invited you without even saying anything.

Drinks were had until drunk and both boys ending up back at your place, you offered because it was closest and happy to accommodate. Reo not expecting to pull up to some fancy, huge English estate.

“S-shit pretty. It feels good.”

“Shhh, Sei you’re gonna wake up Reo.”

The sound was unmistakable coming from across the room, Nagi’s little pants and groans, you cooing in his ear to encourage him.

Your hand pressed into his hair, nibbling on his ear and using your tongue on his neck. Nagi’s face was buried into your neck, groaning as he rolled his hips, hard cock pressing against you through both your clothes.

“Wanna feel you, can I just put it in now?”

“Nagi don’t say it like that and Reo is there -no!”

“What a drag,”

He sighed heavily in frustration biting at him, his cock resting hard against his joggers, tip leaky and throbbing. You were caged under him on the sofa, after crashing here and squishing you under him Nagi awoke a few hours later and started to grind on you eventually waking you up. Bed humping had become something of a thing for him over the years, it was comfy, warm and he barely had to move -but having you under him now changed that dramatically. Humping you was much preferred.

He’d been chasing for release but couldn’t get it like this, it was becoming painful behind his joggers and he was sure he’d leaked through them at this point. He was sweaty and bothered, frustrated on not finding that high he was seeking.

He leaned onto one arm to pull his shirt up, holding the hem between his teeth to keep it out the way, then reaching back down and pull his joggers down to release his cock, slapping against his abdomen he sighed in relief at the cool air hitting it.

He muffled a little groan from the shirt in his mouth, eyes closing before meeting yours again. You laughed and pulled the material from his mouth tucking it into the collar to stay up.

“Can you get it wet for me Sei~?” You sang

“You just said no, so not really.”

You rolled your eyes flicking his forehead.

“Stop being spoilt. Use your head you genius.”

Nagi sighed, mumbling under his breath before he leaned back, gathering enough spit on his tongue before releasing it to land on his dick. He looked up to you as you smirked and reached out, his stomach clenching and dick flexing in your hand as a surprised groan left him.

“S’sensitive be nice,” he whined at you before leaning forward again planting his elbows either side of your head to hover over you, caging you under him again. Snowy white hair falling framing his face as he looked down at you, the dull light from the loom was breaking through one of the curtains and he could just see you.

“Move your hips Nagi.”

“Huh?”

“Like you’re fucking me, use my hand.”

“You’re not gonna do it for me? What a hassle.”

You snorted a laugh before running your hand over his tip, smearing the precum and spit over the head causing his hips jolted forward and an airy moan left him.

“Ngh -yeah like that pretty, d-don’t stop.”

“You’re so long Sei, you’re not gonna fit in me.”

You rolled your hand down feeling the length of him, pulling the skin down and back over his head before setting a pace. His hips started to move sloppily to chase you and his high, his mouth ajar as little pants of breath left him.

You could see in the darkness the pink tint over his nose and cheeks, his eyes half hooded and glazed as you took him to a place he’d not quite been before. The frustration finally feeling like it was breaking as he fucked into your hand, the way his hips rolled had you moaning into his neck with your tongue against his skin.

“I’m gonna- pretty I think I’m-“

“You gonna cum Sei?” He nodded his head, dropping his face to bury in your neck his weight preventing you from keeping your pace and stroking his cock, he flexed in your hand as he took it upon himself to get to the finish line. His hands gripped the cushions above you as he set a brutal pace you didn’t know Nagi had in him. He was actually pressing you into the sofa as he started rutting with his hips aggressively, it caught you by surprise compared to his usual lazy attitude and movement. God if he was gonna fuck you like that you’d melt under him, he was so needy and desperate yet held this air of dominance about him that lay beneath it all.

“Grip it tighter,”

Rolling his hips as his wet dick fucked into your hand, grip tightened from the space of his stomach and yours sandwiching him.

“Shitshit- cummin’ pretty, I’m cumming.”

He hardened in your hand, groaning against your neck as his hips stuttered forward his stomach twitching as he tried to keep thrusting, the spasms went through his body as he spilled onto your hand and stomach.

“Such a good boy Nagi~”

He moaned against you as your hand moved, using his cum to aid your stroking and a whiny moan left him.

“N-No don’t, s’sensitve. Don’t be mean- Hah- pretty please don-“

Your other hand ran through hair as he went to try pull away from you, his hips rising but your hand gripped in his hair stopping him from pulling away.

“Sorry Sei, m’not done.”

Another whiny moan left him as you focused your palm on his head rolling it over, wet with cum and spit he struggled to keep still, hips rolling uncontrollably as you kept up a pace.

His eyes widened as he looked down to watch your hand, drool leaving the side of his mouth as he left it ajar slightly, he watched your hand coated in his cum and using it to drive him into overstimulation.

“Feels like m’gonna cum again,”

“Yeah?”

He nodded dumbly, as his body started to protest on its own against you over stimulating him. He bucked, rolled and twitched his hips, doing anything he could but unable to pull away at the same time. It was torture but feeling so close to cumming again was making him push through it, just about.

“Ye- pretty I’m gonna-“

Nagi didn’t finish, he groaned so loudly you had to clamp your hand that was in his hair across his mouth. His eyes rolled back as he recoiled his body but you didn’t release him, hands digging into the sofa either side of your hips shooting another load up as his hips moved for you, his thrusting was sloppy and stuttered.

He pulled your hand away before leaning back over you, his arms shaking slightly as he panted through his nose above you.

You removed your hand and rose it to your mouth, tongue leaving to let him watch you clean your hand up. Nagi’s eyes were blown watching you clean his cum from your hands as the buzz vibrates through his body, his cock still hard and twitching at what he just went through. His body was humming and he suddenly felt exhausted as his high left him.

He looked down at the mess on both your stomachs and sighed.

“S’messy, what a hassle.”

You shrugged and followed his eyes.

“Get up, we’ll go shower.”

Nagi groaned again and slumped forward onto you, the warm sticky mess between you made your nose scrunch at the feel of it.

“Get up fatty!” You hissed, still whispering as to not try to wake Reo.

“M’not fat.” Nagi pouted in a whiny tone “-take that back.”

Unknown to you both Reo was laying flat on his back staring at the ceiling with wide eyes, a raging hard on resting against his stomach and trying to not make a move hoping you’d both still think he was asleep.

That was the last fucking time he was crashing anywhere with you both.

© pharix 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

[paradiseprincesss]

please we need more Jim the delinquent season!!! please I beg idc if it's smut or fluff or both... Lol btw I am invested in your fics... Wait ngl smut sounds lovely...

perfect for you - jim (the delinquent season) x reader

masterlist

notes: hello lovely anon, i can definitely do that for you! fluffy and smutty jim content is a need. ugh, what i would do to call him mine.

summary: you've always found your best friends dad attractive. unbeknownst to you, the feeling was mutual on his end, especially after his divorce. one night, your best friend goes somewhere, leaving you and her dad alone together.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, kissing, age gap (everyone is legal), reader is implied to be around 20 and jim is in his 40's, bestfriends dad! trope, p in v, aftercare <3

cassie had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. the two of you had met in elementary school, and your friendship lasted a lifetime. now, both you and her were attending college together; all grown up. purposefully, the two of you aimed to get into the same college as neither of you wanted to spend time apart from each other, even when it came to school.

you'd known her for ages, and you were super close with her family. likewise, she was close with yours, as you'd basically grown up together. however, cassie's parents divorced just over a year ago, so much to your dismay, you didn't get to see her mom as frequently anymore. she'd moved out even before her divorce was finalized, and you'd only see her occasionally now.

cassie decided to live her with her dad, jim, as he owned a lovely house quite close to campus, and you also lived just down the road. it was convenient for the both of you. jim was never very talkative, definitely more reserved than his ex-wife ever was, and you'd only really gotten to know him more after the divorce.

even though you'd known him for a majority of your life, you clicked with cassie's mom much more - isn't that how it always is, though? regardless, you would still come over frequently to cassie's place, as the two of you always worked on assignments together. even though she majored in something completely different than you, that didn't stop either of you from bonding over the college experience together.

for the first couple months after the divorce, jim was quiet. he would make small talk with the two of you, maybe ask how your lectures went but otherwise he would keep to himself.

during one particularly hot summer day, jim was having a few of his friends over to watch some sort of sports game, while you and cassie were upstairs working on homework. that same night, cassie got a text from a guy she was interested in from her class who'd asked her out, and you encouraged her to go out with him.

jim and you had talked a bit more frequently at this point in time, since he was finally coming out of his shell more. you didn't blame him after the whole thing with his marriage ending and all. that being said, you felt comfortable just chilling at her place as you'd most likely end up going home pretty soon after she'd left anyway.

plus, this wasn't out of the ordinary for you nor her. she'd often stay at your place for a few days at a time sometimes; the two of you were close like that. you'd do the same, staying over at hers for a few days as well, neither of your parents minded. it had always been this way, even when the two of you were growing up.

"are you sure? i can always tell him i'm busy." she asked you, touching up her makeup.

"oh my god, cass. just go, you've liked this guy for so long!" you insisted, giggling.

"yeah, i know," she laughed, "my dad has his buddies over to watch the stupid game, though. you can go home if you want, but if you get tired feel free to crash at mine tonight."

"i live down the road, but i will definitely keep that in mind." you say with a laugh, shaking your head.

"yeah but your basically my sister, so i don't care if you sleep here or whatever." she says, applying some lipgloss as she fixed her hair.

"go have fun tonight," you say to her, "and text me all the details."

"obviously," she says, turning to face you, "do i look good?"

"duh, like always." you say, glancing at her but returning to your notes as you scribble more stuff down from your textbook.

"if all goes well...i'll text you in the morning." she laughs, and you shake your head laughing along with your best friend.

that night, cassie did in fact have a great night - so great, in fact, that she ended up staying over at that guys house. however, she wasn't the only one who ended up sleeping in someone else's bed that night.

one thing led to another while cassie was gone for the night, and somehow you ended up in jims bed, tangled in the sheets and wrapped up in his arms. sleeping with your best friends dad was not something you planned on doing, but it sort of just...happened.

his buddies has gone home for the night, and you wandered downstairs so that you could quietly leave and return back to your house; but you noticed everyone had left already.

"you didn't go out with cassie?" jim's voice called out from behind you, and you turned around to see him leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.

"no," you shake your head, "i have a final next week, i needed to study for it."

"ah, smart girl." he said softly in that accent that made your knees weak. for a moment, he was quiet. just staring at you while you stared back, unsure of what else to say.

"do you need help cleaning up?" you ask politely, since it wasn't too late. it was only quarter past eight, and he looked a little tired.

"don't worry about it." he smiled, and you shook your head.

"least i could do, i'm always over here anyways." you insisted, making your way to the kitchen.

there were only a few dishes scattered around, along with some empty beer cans and a few cups. you helped him put the food on the counter away and cleaned some of the dishes. after the two of you were done, he looked at you with a soft smile.

"you've always been so helpful," he smiled, "i appreciate it."

"it's no problem." you say back, watching him lean against the counter.

he doesn't respond, but instead just looks at you under the dim kitchen lighting, and his baby blue eyes pierce right through you.

"do you have a boyfriend? remind me, i forgot." he asked suddenly, and you felt your cheeks heating up at his rather...innocent question.

"n-no, i don't." you say with a nervous laugh.

"c'mere." he said and for a second, you thought you'd misheard him.

"what?" you asked quietly.

"come here." he repeated.

hesitantly, you make your way closer to him and look up at his blue eyes. he glances down at you, still leaning against the counter with his hands gripping the edge.

okay - if you were being totally honest right now, you had always found your best friends dad to be really attractive. but he was married for the longest time and he was also the father of your lifelong best friend! it was wrong on so many levels, but it appeared that neither of you seemed to cared.

suddenly, his hand was making it's way onto your waist, and you almost felt the need to pinch yourself in case this was all just a very vivid dream you were having.

"the walls are thin, you know," he said softly, rubbing circles into your waist with his thumb, "i heard you last week, on the phone to your friend or whoever while cassie was picking milo up from the vet."

your heart dropped. last week, cassie had to pick her dog up from the vet, and you were home alone with jim for around half an hour. within that half hour, another friend of yours called and somehow, the topic landed on jim. well, more like you'd told your friend you were staying at cassie's for the evening, which led to the friend asking about her parents divorce, which then led you to say some interesting things about jim.

"if he wasn't cassie's dad, i'd be all over that." you said to your friend as the both of you giggled over the phone.

"yeah, i've seen him. like, damn." your friend said, making you laugh once more.

"you have no idea what it's like when i come over, i literally have to force myself to focus on something - anything else." you tell her, but then you heard the front door open. "mhm, yeah. okay, i gotta go. bye."

with that, you ended your phone call - not realizing jim had been grabbing the laundry from the washer out in the hall. he heard everything, and he couldn't lie; it really turned him on. he always knew it was wrong, but he was definitely attracted to you. it started out innocent, like for example, it started when you had turned nineteen. he would think you looked really pretty when you wore a certain outfit, or when you did your hair a certain way.

then, as the next year or two went by, he found himself noticing other things about you. like how perky your tits looked in a certain shirt, or how badly he wanted to see you bend over when you wore a specific skirt. he tried to shake the thoughts of out his head - but it was no use.

"i-i didn't-" you stammered.

"shh," he assured you, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. honestly, i wish you'd said something sooner."

"...you do?" you asked, a little taken aback by his words.

"i do," he said softly, "so why don't we both stop pretending like this isn't bound to happen."

his hands trailed along your waist and your hips, before his grip on them became tighter. pulling you close, he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face. the both of you leaned in - but you placed your hands on his chest, stopping him.

"jim, wait," you say, looking up at the older man in front of you, "i-i can't- i don't do casual hookups. their just not-"

"your thing, i know. i wasn't trying to imply that this was just going to be that," he assures you once more, "i want you in more than just that way."

"o-okay," you almost whisper, "me too."

he doesn't offer a verbal response, but rather gives your ass a tight squeeze whilst his lips came crashing down on yours. instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck as he backs you up into the kitchen counter. recklessly, his lips still locked with yours, he hoisted you up onto the kitchen island. for a moment, both of you break away from the kiss with pink-tinted cheeks.

the thrill of kissing a man so much older than you (who also happened to be your best friends dad) was getting you worked up, and judging by the tent in his pants; it was getting him worked up, too. gently, he helped you out of your hoodie and sweats. you felt a shiver go up your spine as your ass rested on the cold granite of the counter, and he bit down on his lip at sight. with all your clothes discarded, you sat pretty for his taking on the counter with your pink, lacy bra and matching pink thong.

"look at you," he groaned, "so pretty, princess."

clearly, neither of you could even wait to take it to the bedroom. so, with adrenaline running through your veins, you help him out of his sweater and he reaches for his belt buckle. he pulls you into another heated kiss, this time one of his hands coming up to your throat to give it a soft squeeze. as he choked you gently, you moaned into his mouth, the action driving him insane.

he pulled away from the kiss and you felt his tip poke at your folds. you look down for a moment, and you could see him stroking himself with one hand as he lined his cock up with your entrance while the other hand rested gently around your throat.

before he put it in, he looked at you to make sure that this was okay, though he didn't say a word. you gave him a small, affirming nod and he rubbed the head of his cock against your wetness before plunging his cock in, taking you on the kitchen counter.

you let out a gasp as his veiny cock filled you, and he groaned at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in. his hand quickly came off of your neck and down to your waist, his other hand doing the same. as his hands found purchase on your waist, he started to move in and out slowly, letting you adjust.

"j-jim," you moaned, throwing your head back, "ugh, feels so good."

"yeah?" he groaned, thrusting in and out much faster now, "d'you hear how wet you are, princess?"

when he mentioned it, your cheeks burned as your eyes rolled to the back of your head from his cock pounding your cunt. you could hear it - your pussy was dripping, and it was evident by the squelching sounds in the quiet kitchen.

"s-so wet, just for you- fuuuuck-" you whimper as his cock hit all the right spots inside of you.

one of jim's hands snaked up to your breasts, roughly kneading it and making you moan. you drooling hole started to squeeze down onto his fat cock, making him lose his breath. the both of you were chasing your highs and getting closer by the second.

"f-fuck, you're so tight, m'gonna fill this tight little pussy up." he decided, fucking into you deeply as he took you on his kitchen countertop.

"so close, jim, s-so mmph, close!" you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure consumed you and the coil inside of your stomach snapped.

"thaaaats it," he praised, "keep squeezing me like that, princess."

you bit your lip and moaned at the way he was talking, and he felt himself tip over the edge as he spilled into you with a groan. his hips continued to buck into you for a few more moments, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into your aching cunt.

after you both came down from your highs, he pulled his softening cock out of you. he watched with a sigh at the sight your pretty pussy which was now dripping with his cum. swiftly, he got a towel and started to wipe it up for you. he was taking his time and making sure you were taken care of afterwards, of course.

"how are you feeling?" he asked softly, wiping his seed that was dripping out from your cunt.

"a little sleepy," you admitted with a half-lidded smile, "and a little hungry."

"how about i run you a bath?" he suggested, laughing softly, "and then i'll order us some takeout from that italian place you like down on 47th and main."

"you know my favourite takeout place?" you giggle.

"obviously i do," he admits with a chuckle, "you told me a few months ago, remember?"

"well, yeah. i just didn't expect you to actually remember." you say with a sigh, and he pulls you into a chaste kiss.

"of course i remember, how could i forget?" he smiles after giving you a small peck, "so, does that sound good? a bath and your favourite takeout? then you can sleep in my bed tonight with me."

"first of all, that sounds wonderful, baby," you say, casually throwing the pet name in, "and secondly, can you join me in the bath, pretty please?"

he smiled as you called him baby, "i can't say no to that, princess."

"good." you say, beaming up at him.

true to his word, he did run you two a hot bath which you both enjoyed. after your steamy bath, he ordered your favourite food and the two of you laughed and cuddled on the couch whilst sharing a bottle of your favourite wine. after the two of you finished, you were both sleepy. as you and jim slipped into bed, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, giving you a kiss on the head before you both fell asleep.

the next morning, the two of you were still tangled in the sheets together, cuddled up in the blankets all cozy. cassie had returned sometime in the early hours just before sunrise, and as she made her way up the stairs, she noticed her dads bedroom door was cracked open slightly. she paid no mind to it - until she caught a glimpse of you in his bed with him.

doing a double take, she poked her head into his bedroom to find the both of you peacefully asleep. your head was resting on his chest as his arms were draped over you, the both of you looking so content.

cassie smiled and shook her head, laughing quietly to herself as she made her way back to her own room. contrary to what most peoples reactions would be; she wasn't mad. in fact, she kind of saw it coming in hindsight and hey, if you made him happy and he was good to you, then so be it.

though the both of you seemed oblivious to it, everyone else could see that you were perfect for him, and he was perfect for you.

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[narryffdreaming]

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — FIVE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART FIVE: 15,3k words. Author’s note: Hi! I'm so, so sorry it took me this long to update. I rewrote this part so many times it's embarrassing, and now that it's done I'm low-key freaking out that it will end up disappointing after such a long wait lol. Anyway, part 5 is here. I hope you're still around to read it and that you enjoy it :) only 3 more left now!

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR (I) || PART FOUR (II)

When Aurora wakes up, the room is dark, empty and unfamiliar. 

She bends her arms by the elbows and perks herself up, leaning on them to scan the space as best as she can — taking in the small window to her right, the faint reflection on the TV in front of her, and the dim light flickering under the bedroom door. 

Recollecting her memories feels like a process, and it isn’t until she hears the seabirds crying out and the waves crashing nearby that everything comes back to mind. 

She’s on a yacht.

In Italy. 

And all of her friends are there.

A smile grows on her lips as Aurora falls back into her pillow, and she closes her eyes just to recall the last moments of the day before—the way she kissed Harry on that floating mat, the way they walked back inside hand-in-hand, and the way they sneakily kissed again before pulling apart to join their friends. Like two rebellious teenagers who couldn’t get caught whilst living a forbidden love.

Except they weren’t teenagers, of course. Nor rebellious. 

And except what they had wasn’t love, much less forbidden.

And yet… 

Damn. 

Joy rushes through her chest, causing her to bring her hands to her face just so she can giggle to herself. 

Everything feels so silly, but also so exhilarating. The stolen glances during dinner. The unintentional and unstoppable smiles. How she kept listening to her friends even though she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or how he ran after her when she left the group behind to go to bed, kissing her goodnight and taking her breath away one last time before she officially put an end to that eventful day.

A sigh leaves her mouth, and Aurora drops her arms to her sides. Kissing Harry had never been an option before, nor even a curious thought of her mind. And yet there was a certain level of desperation when it happened. A sense of fucking finally that ran through her veins as soon as their lips met, and that put her skin on fire every time he spread his hand open and squeezed his fingers around her. As if she’d been waiting for it her entire life, and not just less than a day. 

Isn’t that… Weird?

Aurora stares at the ceiling, aware that her emotions are too over the place for her to fall asleep again. 

What time is it, by the way?

And why is she still all by herself? 

Is Maddie still outside? 

Is everyone still outside? 

Is Harry still outside?

Full of energy, Aurora turns on her side and stretches her arm towards the bedside table, reaching for her phone and bringing it closer to her face. When she unlocks the screen, though, brightness strikes directly into her eyes, making her wince and quickly give up. She groans, then, forcing herself to sit on the bed and curling her legs closer while she rubs her eyelids. 

It only takes her a couple of seconds until she tries again, blinking and squinting as she lowers the brightness and Noah’s beaming face takes over the background. 

Aurora bites her lip and stares at the screen, admiring the picture she took just a few weeks ago during one of their walks around the park. A thumbs up on one hand and a pink flower on the other, a huge smile spreading from cheek to cheek and the sun warming up his entire face. 

He looks a lot like his father, there’s no way to deny that, but his kindness and sensitivity sets him far away from him—something she deep down is grateful for. 

It’s hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent came up from such a complicated and unpredictable relationship. It’s hard to understand that the same man who treated her worse than anyone has ever treated her, is also the same man that gave her the biggest and most honest love she’s ever felt. And it’s hard to comprehend that even though she sometimes wishes she had never met Zack, she would actually never wish she hadn’t married him. Or had a kid with him. 

She brushes her thumb up and down the side of her phone, almost as if she could caress her son. She’s never spent this long without him, and she misses him. She truly does. Even if her latest thoughts have failed to show that. 

Heaviness sets deep into her belly, and her chest tightens up. 

Shit.

What the hell is she doing?

A make-out session with an old friend wasn’t on the schedule. It isn’t even something she ever imagined it would happen. She just… Went with it. She listened to her friends, she had a couple drinks, and she let whatever she was feeling back then take full control of her actions. 

She put a pause on her doubts and, for a moment — for how long that moment lasted — she didn’t think about the consequences. She didn’t think about tomorrow. She didn’t think about next Monday. She didn’t think about her son, who was spending the first weekend away from her. And she didn’t think about her ex-husband, who was taking care of their child while she took a weekend off on a luxury yacht in the Amalfi Coast. 

She didn’t think about anyone, or anything. 

She didn’t question. She didn’t wonder. She didn’t overthink. 

Just like everyone said she should do.

Just like her friends told her she should do.

Friends who don’t have kids yet. Friends who don’t have ex-husbands yet. Friends who haven’t failed in life yet. Friends who don’t wonder who they are, or why everything crumbled down around them. Friends who aren’t worried about how they’re going to make it by themselves from now on, or how they’re going to find new dreams for a future that’s nowhere to be seen. 

A toilet flushes somewhere, and Aurora jolts. She drops her phone on her lap and looks up, listening to the heavy steps that seem to get closer and louder each time, as if crossing the same floor she’s in and walking directly to her room. 

Through the tiny gap under her door, she sees sounds turn into shadows, and then she hears the mumbling. The soft laughing and the shushing, until everything goes quiet and the handle finally moves. 

Light from the hallway cracks in while Maddie walks in, carefully and slowly. It’s only a tiny bit, but it hits directly on Aurora’s face, making her raise one hand and cover her eyes. 

“Oh,” Maddie whispers, stopping on her tracks. “Sorry. Was trying not to wake you.” 

“‘s okay.” 

Aurora clears her throat, getting rid of the sudden dryness and soreness. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Why?” 

“I don’t know… Why are you sitting in the dark all by yourself?”

“Oh.” Keeping her chin down and one hand up to block the brightness from her face, Aurora shrugs. “Nothing.” 

“Right…” Maddie says, dragging each letter a little longer than she normally would. 

With a roll of her eyes, Aurora shifts on the bed and drops her body to lay back on the mattress. 

“I just woke up, Maddie. Don’t be annoying.” 

Maddie laughs and steps inside, letting the light from outside guide her whilst she walks towards the wardrobe and rummages through her clothes. 

Aurora takes the opportunity to place her phone back on the nightstand and get comfortable under the covers.

“Have you been awake all this time?” Maddie asks. “We thought you were sleeping.”

“I just said I just woke up.” Aurora turns on her side and smashes her hands between her cheek and the pillow, catching the moment her friend freezes for a second while pulling her dress over her head.

“Okay?” Maddie murmurs, fully removing the item and throwing it into the wardrobe. “My bad. Did we wake you or something?”

Aurora sighs. She watches as Maddie puts a t-shirt and some shorts on, but she’s not really paying any attention to her movements. Her mind is foggy, thinking about how caught up in the whole kissing thing situation she was that she didn’t lose sleep over Zack never returning her texts. Or that her mind wasn’t flooded by Noah’s thoughts until she saw a picture of him. 

“Hey,” Maddie calls, and Aurora blinks. She’s already facing the bed, hands loose by her sides while a frown takes over her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head and looks away, settling her sight on the darkness out the window. “Sorry. ‘M just tired.”

“You sure?”

No. 

“Mhm.” She closes her eyes and nods. “Just need to fall asleep again.” 

“Okay… Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Mads.” 

Aurora hears the soft click when her best friend shuts the door, and also her light steps as she walks around the room. She then feels the moment Maddie pulls the blanket from her side of the bed, and also when she gets under the covers and makes herself comfortable with a sigh. 

There’s a beat of silence, in which Aurora shuffles and turns her body around to face the wall. Maddie moves as well, and it’s easy to tell they’re both laying back to back now. Aurora feels it. 

She also somehow feels the water outside. The darkness. The birds flying above and around. She feels when her best friend drifts into unconsciousness, when her breathing changes, and when her body gets heavier on the mattress. She feels time going by, although she can’t tell if it’s only seconds or also minutes that are flying past her.

“Do you know what you want?” Harry’s voice echoes inside her brain, and images of them laying on that mat take over the darkness in front of her. His pinky around hers, the way he looks at her, his skin underneath her foot when she moves it up and down. “I think about this a lot, y'know? About you.” His confession puts a smile on her face, and it makes her heart skip a couple beats. She wants to kiss him, and she knows he wants to kiss her, too. So she waits for it to happen. And she waits for him to do it. And she waits. And she waits. 

Why isn’t he trying to kiss her? 

What is he waiting for? 

Something is off, and she isn’t so sure anymore. 

Was she wrong all along? 

“I want you to make a move,” her voice pathetically begs while Harry laughs, and Aurora’s body jolts in bed. Eyes flying open while her muscles tense up and relax all at once.

I want you to make a move. 

Is that what she actually said to him?

Her heart beats heavily, and her belly stirs uncomfortably. She wiggles her feet and rearranges her arms and legs, adjusting her sight until the empty wall becomes clear in front of her. 

When she shifts her eyes around, she notices there’s no brightness under the door anymore, meaning all lights are off and everyone finally went to bed. And that she missed when it happened. 

“I want you to make a move,” flashes again inside her mind, and blood rushes through her cheeks. 

Shaking her head, Aurora grinds her teeth and stretches her arm, reaching for her phone one more time. 

The concept of time feels even fuzzier now, so she doesn’t distract herself like she did before — Noah smiles at her, she misses him, and it’s 4:15.

Aurora sighs. Without too much thinking, determination guides her body off from bed, blindly searches for her flip flops, and takes her straight to the door. 

Upstairs, everything’s quiet. 

Quiet, empty, and dull. 

It isn’t pitch black, though, allowing Aurora to confidently move from one common area to the other as she makes her way to the kitchen. 

All she wants is a glass of water, but she knows the galley is considered exclusive for the crew, so a quick apology and explanation rests on the tip of her tongue as she slides the door open as discreetly as she can. Just in case.

Once inside, dim lights cover one side of the ceiling, turning the painfully white kitchen into washed-out yellow. She shuts the brown sliding door again and crosses the small passage-way, walking past the freezers and fridges, then around the island counter. 

She follows her instincts while rummaging for a glass, half-smiling to herself when she finds one and then placing it on the counter so she can look for a bottle of water next. 

Back around the unbelievably clean island, the French door refrigerators are just as fancy as everything else in that yacht. Aurora takes a moment to gawk at the perfectly organized shelves inside, but it only lasts a second or two until coldness crawls through her hands and arms. 

It ends up being an awful reminder of how little she’s wearing right now, and that she should hurry out of there before the crew shows up for breakfast. So she grabs the labeled bottle of water and closes the fridge, then steps towards her glass and watches as she fills it up to the top. 

“I want you to make a move,” her mind repeats for the tenth time, and Aurora sighs. 

It’s hard to tell why those words are bothering so much, or why they’re hunting her in the first place. She was happy when she woke up, so why can’t she get rid of the uneasiness that’s settling in her chest? 

Shaking her head, she places the bottle back on the counter a little harsher than she should, wincing when the sound echoes between the walls. She brings the glass to her lips, then, drinking her water whilst looking out through the window and indulging her messy thoughts.  

Because kissing Harry felt right in the moment, it felt right when he chased her down the stairs for a quick goodbye, and it felt right when she snuggled her cheek against her pillow. And yet, the more she thinks about it now, the more she’s questioning the whole thing. As if there was something off about it. As if her perceptions and memories from that moment weren’t safe enough to trust.

Despite the turmoil inside her brain, the galley is so peaceful that the moment a door slides open everything seems to tremble around her. 

And Aurora jumps.  

And gasps. 

She places the half empty glass on the counter and turns around, one hand on her chest whilst she gapes at the passage-way with widened eyes and parted lips.

Her entire body system stops while she waits, and then Harry walks into view, looks at her, and freezes on the spot.

“Heyyy,” he slowly and huskily drags out, his entire face lighting up as he takes one hand up to rub his eye. “You’re up.”

“Jesus.” Aurora closes her eyes and places one hand spread open on the counter, leaning her weight on it while she exhales heavily through her mouth. Underneath her other palm, the one that’s still on her chest, she feels her heart come back to life. Twice as fast. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Oops.” He laughs, shortly and calmly. “Sorry, love.”

Rough and raspy, the sounds echo from the back of his throat and speak directly to her brain, sending a shiver all the way down her spine and waking up all the butterflies. 

She’s never heard his morning voice before. Not like that, at least. Not when it acts like a magnet and pops her eyes back open, then draws all of her attention straight to him. 

“Damn, I’m knackered,” he says, stretching his arms over his head and then yawning loudly. 

Aurora silently watches him. 

Unlike her, Harry’s clearly barely awake, his puffy cheeks and chaotic hair inevitably giving him away. 

Also unlike her, Harry’s properly covered from neck to toe, a black sweatshirt and some black sweatpants making him look the coziest she’s ever seen. 

The idea of wrapping herself inside his arms isn’t subtle when it crosses her mind, even leaving behind a vivid picture of what the embrace could look like before Aurora kicks it out the door.

“That was probably one of the worst sleeps of my life,” he adds next, dropping his arms down and slightly shaking his head. When he flutters his eyelashes to glance at her, a soft smirk grows on his lips, and he tilts his head to the side. “Auri?” 

“Hm?” 

“You okay?”

She blinks and nods. 

“Yes. Sorry.” Stepping away from the counter, she waves her hands up and down to remove the tension away from her. “You were saying?” 

Harry chuckles and steps forward, then makes his way around the island and closer to her. “What’s on your mind? Why are you looking at me like—” 

He freezes on the spot once again, however now with his eyes wide open and stuck on her silhouette.

Aurora doesn’t need to look down to figure out what he’s staring at. She feels the burn on her chest, and then on her thighs. She also feels his green irises wandering attentively, moving in such a bold and straightforward way that it would be impossible for her to doubt he’s checking her out.

“Harry…” she calls him out, but she also chuckles, sounding just as nervous as she feels. “You were saying what, exactly, about me looking at you?” 

“Uh, sorry.” He shuts his eyes and clears his throat, then firmly shakes his head side to side. As if getting rid of his thoughts. “Shit. Yeah. Sorry. That’s… Yeah. My bad. Sorry.”

Aurora laughs again, turns to her glass of water and shrugs. 

“‘S fine,” she says, bringing the cup to her lips and drinking what’s left in it. To be honest, she knows her navy silk pajamas expose all of her cleavage and just barely cover her legs, so it’s not really a surprise that her tiny outfit didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

Besides, she isn’t exactly bothered by it. It’s nice to see she can still get such a genuine reaction out of someone—it’s been a long time since anyone has made her feel wanted and desired. 

And probably just as long since she’s felt confident enough to believe she could be wanted and desired. 

“Where did you get that glass?” Harry asks, suddenly closer. Too much closer. “Need some water, too.” 

She puts the glass down and turns her head to the side, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Want this one?” 

“Yeah, can be.” He nods. “If you’re done with it.” 

She shrugs one shoulder and focuses back on the bottle of water, refilling the cup for him. 

Their whole interaction it’s too formal. Kind of mechanical. And weird. Aurora can’t decide if there’s too much going on, if there’s absolutely nothing going on, or if what’s going on should be enough. 

“There you go.” She turns slightly to the side and stretches her arm, offering him the cold drink. Before he can grab it, though, she pulls it back to her chest and frowns. “Actually, I put my mouth here, so maybe you just wanted a clean one? In that case they—”

“I’ll take this one, thanks.” Harry laughs, getting close enough to grab the glass from her hand. “You put your mouth on my mouth, too, anyway.”

Aurora gasps, but her lips curve into a smile and laughter quickly buzzes out of her chest. “Harry!” 

Harry laughs, too.

“Just saying! In case you forgot about it.” 

She rolls her eyes, the playful tone in her voice matching her wrinkled eyes and the big smile on her face. “What a smooth way to remind me, then.” 

“Trust me,” he says with a shrug, then looks at the glass in his hand and smirks, almost as if sharing an inside joke with himself, “it could’ve been worse.” 

Out of words, Aurora leans her hip against the counter and crosses her arms, watching him tilt his head back and drink the water down. 

The glass almost disappears behind his fingers, and the scruff on his neck looks just as messy as his curly hair. Underneath, his throat moves heavily, the muscles popping out with each gulp and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Aurora drifts her eyes to the fridges, noticing a new and erratic beat inside her chest. It’s not like she forgot how attracted to him she felt last night, or even during the day, but she definitely didn’t know this is how she’d feel when she saw him again. How easy it would be for her to want him again. How quickly she would crave for more of what they had. 

I want you to make a move. 

She bites her bottom lip and looks down, closing her hand onto a fist only to entertain her brain with something else. Something that doesn’t involve self embarrassment and silly thoughts. 

“Hey,” Harry calls, followed by the clicking of the glass against the countertop. “Are you going back to bed now?”

Aurora shrugs, then tilts her chin up to meet his stare once again. “I mean, I was planning to, but…” 

He curves his lips up, a genuine smile quickly growing on him. 

“Same,” he says. And then, “Can I show you something, then?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Ok, great. I just need a minute to wash my face and all that, yeah? I’ll be back tho. I promise. Wait for me?”

“Sure.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she chuckles. 

“Ok. Yeah. Thanks. One minute, I swear.”

“Okay,” Aurora laughs. 

And Harry nods. And turns around, and glances at her over his shoulder, and nods again. Ok, he murmurs. One minute.

And then he walks away.

“One minute!” he whisper-yells, right before he disappears through the door. 

It takes him way longer than a minute to come back — of course it does — but Aurora doesn’t mind the wait. She doesn’t want to be caught hanging in the galley by any crew members, though, so she takes it as an opportunity to step into the living-dining room area and snoop around a little. 

There’s not much to do, but at least she distracts her mind with minor thoughts, like the fact that all lights are off and all windows are closed, or that everything’s so quiet that she can hear the waves crashing against the hull. Or Harry’s feet when he climbs up the steps. 

She goes back through the door, then, meeting him halfway and saving him an unneeded walk to the kitchen.

“Hey,” he whispers and smiles. “Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course,” she whispers back.

He’s short-winded, as if he ran to get there, but he also looks refreshed and determined, stretching his arm and offering his hand for her to hold. 

“C’mon then,” he adds in another whisper, “let’s go upstairs.”

As she links fingers with him and follows him outside, she mentally notices a pillow under his armpit and a blanket on his other hand. For some reason, the simple gesture brings a smile to her face, but she’s good at looking the other way and keeping it to herself.  

He guides them kind of calmly, then, but also slightly rushed. He is polite enough to say ladies first and let her walk up the stairs in front of him, but then also cheeky enough to stay behind and unashamedly watch her as she moves all by herself. 

The thing is, though, that Aurora only catches him when she’s already a few steps ahead and absently glances over her shoulder. He’s practically drooling and doesn’t even notice she’s looking at him, which only makes the whole thing worse — or maybe better. 

“Harry!” She mouths with a gasp, mindful of being quiet and not waking anyone up, but also unable to stop her laughter from coming out of her mouth. “Stop staring!” 

He blinks a couple times and shakes his head, then immediately climbs two steps at a time. 

“Oops,” he says under his breath, catching up with her and smirking sheepishly. 

He seems the least regretful or ashamed for his actions, but she’s not exactly bothered by it, so she doesn’t hide the smile from him. Or how amused she is. She simply rolls her eyes and chuckles a bit more, facing forward and going up the rest of the way.

She only stops again when they finally get to the sun deck, knowing it’s the highest part of the yacht and therefore they can’t really go more ‘upstairs’ than that. 

There are no walls or roof shielding them from the weather, so she’s instantly met by a breeze from all sides, causing her body to tense up and forcing her to take her hands up to hold her hair away from her face. Still, Aurora takes a deep breath in and bites her lip, filling her lungs with ocean air and her ears with crashing and loud waves. 

That deck looks just as dark as all the others — if not even more. And yet, somehow, it also feels the brightest she’s seen since she woke up. 

Most lights are completely off, except for the required ones, but half of the moon is up in the sky, casting the way. It allows her to see the shadows of the table and chairs where they spent half of the day before (the only covered area), and far behind, on the opposite side, the barstools with perfect view to the back of the boat.  

“Was talking to Niall about this place last night,” Harry says, stopping so close behind her that she can feel the warmth of his clothes. He keeps his voice as quiet and soft as before, matching the delicacy in which he places his free hand on her bicep as he speaks again. “Told him he should bring Megan up here to watch the stars.” 

Aurora pulls her lips into a thin-smile and nods, still needing another minute to assess the space. 

Harry doesn’t seem to mind her silence, nor her astonishment, simply shortening the distance and pressing his chest to her back while respecting her needed time. 

That is, for a moment or two, until she shivers. 

“Ok,” he chuckles with a squeeze of her arm, then slides his palm down and easily finds his way to her hand, “let’s move now.” 

He walks past her, using their intertwined fingers to guide them as he steps to their right, across from where she’s been staring at. 

Next to the stairs, it’s the jacuzzi — the same one she saw the day before and freaked out about. She remembers seeing it, but she definitely doesn’t remember noticing there was also a large, wide sunbed right behind it.

Which there is, obviously, since it’s the only thing she can see once they walk around the hot tub.

“I brought you a blanket,” Harry says, “but if you want I can get you a jacket. Or you can wear my hoodie… I don’t mind. I mean, I wore this to sleep and I’m not wearing anything underneath, so I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” 

He chuckles, but Aurora is only paying half-attention to what he says. She’s distracted by how huge the white leather cushions are, how they seem to sparkle under the moonlight, and how much space they take. They’re presented as three sets, as if individual loungers were put together, but in reality it ends up being one big and comfortable daybed. 

“We can also go back inside if you want,” Harry speaks again, however this time the louder tone of his voice brings her to look back at him. “I’m not—I don’t want you to feel cold, so that’s totally—”  

“It looks great,” Aurora offers, squeezing her fingers around his hold. “That’s why I’m speechless, actually.” 

Harry brushes his thumb on the back of her hand and smiles, not even once removing the stare from her eyes as he speaks again. “In that case… How do you feel about watching the sunrise from up here?”

Excitement bubbles from her belly to her chest, and to her throat. Suddenly, it’s written all over her face—in her smile, her widened eyes, and her parted lips.

“Oh my God, yes! I’d love that!”

“Yeah?” Harry mimics her reaction, taking their hands to his mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Let’s get you warm then. C’mon.” 

Aurora blinks and nods, murmuring a soft “okay” even though he’s already dropped her hand and turned away from her. She watches him place one knee on the edge of the sunbed, drop the pillow and the blanket, then quickly crawl to the middle cushion and take a seat. 

“Ok,” he murmurs, taking off his worn-out shoes and tossing them next to her. “Almost there…” 

She smiles to herself, entertained by how endearing he looks. By how endearing he is. How he scooches backwards to make sure he’s sitting fully against the backrest, how he coughs into his fist as he puts the pillow behind his shoulders, and how he spreads his legs open and bends them by the knees before finally looking at her again. 

“C’mon now,” he murmurs, patting his hand on the spot between his thighs. “Sit with me.”

For a moment, and for as short as that moment is, Aurora considers playing hard to get. She considers making a joke about his demanding tone, or even about how acquainted with the whole scene he seems to be. 

And yet when she thinks about it again, she can’t find a single reason why she would do that. She’s too tired to pretend she doesn’t care, doesn’t want, or doesn’t mind — if Harry’s offering, and if she’s feeling it, then wouldn’t she? 

So in the end, she simply sits down and takes off her flip flops, then skitters backwards with the help of her own hands. Legs stretched out in front of her while she pushes and pushes herself. 

Harry meets her halfway, his hands finding her waist and guiding her until her back touches his chest. 

“There we go,” he says, pulling the blanket and throwing it over their bodies. 

And just like that, easy like that, they’re molding and curling around each other. 

Harry makes sure their legs are properly covered, then leans on his pillow and waits for her to drop her weight on him. When she does it, and as she crosses her arms on her stomach and waits for Harry to do the same—as she waits for him to hug her and hold her close against him—he busies himself pulling the rest of the fabric up to her shoulders.  And then he sighs, wraps his arms around her midsection, and nuzzles into her neck. Humming while his curls tickle her skin. 

His body relaxes underneath her, and she finds herself mimicking him. Letting all the air out of her body, loosening up all of her muscles, and going numb against his chest.

Comfortable. Warm. Satisfied.

Relieved.

In front of her, under the handrail, the glass is so transparent that it’s almost nonexistent. Darkness is out there, all around them, but not to the point where she can’t distinguish the horizon. The moon, even though distant to her right, works everywhere, highlighting a few clouds and also reflecting its beauty on the water. 

To that same direction, it appears to be nothing but ocean, and as far as she can see the same goes to what’s in front of her. 

On the other hand, above her, wherever she looks, stars are still easy to spot, and to her left the coastline is all lightened up. Blurry, small, and far away, but shining gold still. A reminder of where they are, but also a reminder that, despite how it might feel, they are not alone right now. 

The whole experience brings a weird feeling to her chest. 

The view, Harry’s presence, the sounds coming from the water… 

It is just… Weird. Somehow also scary, but mostly — and oddly — comforting and peaceful. Hopeful. It makes it easy to forget about the world that’s waiting for her, about all the problems and all the pain. It makes it easier to pretend she doesn’t have to go back to London and keep looking for a job, or that she doesn’t need to worry about paying her own bills. 

It makes it easier to pretend she isn’t trying to start a new life. A new life with Noah, but also a new life completely by herself. A life of her own. A life where Zack is only there because he’s the father of her son, and not because she can’t make it without his help. 

In the end, it makes it easier to believe that she’ll get through it. That things will get better. And that she will be okay. 

Which, truth be told, is the scariest feeling she’s ever had in life.

And the hardest to embrace. 

“I wonder which one is Saturn,” Harry murmurs, bringing her out of her inner thoughts. “Or what constellations we’re seeing right now.”

She licks her lips and drifts her eyes above them, then to their sides. 

The way she scans the sky is more attentive this time, not randomly taking in whatever’s out there, but focusing on finding specific information just for him. 

The easiest to spot are always Saturn and Venus, but since only one of those can be found right now, she doesn’t think twice before resting her chin on her own shoulder and pulling one arm out from under the blanket. 

“See the moon?” she asks, raising her finger to the sky and pointing to the three-quarter-white-circle that shines distantly on the horizon. 

Harry turns his head, too, then presses his lips on her hair and murmurs, “Yeah?”

“Well, that brightest spot next to the moon is Saturn.” 

“Shit. Really?”

“Mhmm…” She lowers her arm, but doesn’t bother hiding it under the blanket. “The Aquarius and Capricorn constellations are there, too, but we can’t properly see them right now.”

“That’s so cool…” he mumbles, seemingly too distracted by the new information he received. “What else? Do you know any other?” 

She faces forward, feeling Harry follow her lead and remove his lips from her hair, then rest his cheek on the side of her head. 

“Okay,” she says, once again lifting her arm and pointing it to the sky. “See that red spot around here?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s Mars.”  

“Shut up!” He tightens his arms around her, and a soft chuckle leaves his chest.

Aurora chuckles, too, then moves her arm an inch down and to the side. 

“And see this other star shining next to it?” she asks. 

“The brightest one?”

“Yeah… That’s actually Jupiter.” 

“Damn…” 

“And I know the Pisces constellation is somewhere around there,” she says, pointing up and down next to the two spots she just referred to. “But most of the time I can’t tell exactly where… Then… Hmm… Well, I think that’s it. That’s all I— No! Wait. Actually, lemme just…”

She turns her head from one side to the other, and when she knows she’s looking at the wrong place, she leans forward and twists her upper body, trying to see behind them, too. 

“Nuh-uh,” Harry groans, pulling her back to his chest. “No leaving.”

She crashes against him with a smile, settling into her spot and letting him cover her body again. Including both of her arms.

“But I can’t spot the bears from here… I think they’re back there…” 

“The bears?”

“Yeah, y’know, Ursa Minor and Ursa Major.” 

“I actually don’t know about those.” He chuckles. “And I also had no idea you knew about any of this.” 

Aurora rolls her eyes, but her lips curl into a smile anyway. She cozies up against his chest, settling her arms on top of his and tilting her head slightly to the side. 

“It’s not a big deal.” She shrugs. “I’ve just shown you, like, three planets. That’s nothing.”

“Ok, then show me more.”

“I don’t know any others.” She laughs, and from the corner of her eyes she can tell he’s smiling along with her. “I mean, there are a few that we can only spot during winter, and others that we can’t spot now unless we walk to the other side.”

“Hmmm… Well, I really don’t wanna move from here, so I’m happy with the ones I’ve learned.”

“Okay…”

“Unless you want to move, then we move.”

She wriggles her bum to scooch down a little and sighs, settling even more onto him. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Then we’re good.”

He places his chin on the top of her head, and Aurora faces forward with a smile on her face. Reconnecting with the ocean view and also with the sounds she apparently tunes off whenever they start talking. 

Silence. Quietness. 

Comfort. 

“Y’know,” Harry eventually says, “now I’ll always think of you when I look at the stars.”

A beat of silence goes by, and then…

She laughs.

“Oh my God…” She stretches her spine and throws her head back, landing on his shoulder. “You’re sooo cheesy.”

“I know.” He tightens his arms around her waist, playfully squeezing her while turning his head to press his nose on her neck. “I am. And I don’t care.”

She shakes her head, still smiling and staring at the sky. 

It’s like she can hear the happiness in his voice, and it blows her mind how easy he makes it seem. Or how contagious he is. 

“Wanna know something else?” he asks.

“Hm?” Tilting her chin to the side, she rests the side of her face on his temple and closes her eyes. Focusing on the way he warms her skin as he stays hidden on her neck. 

“I don’t think I’ve smiled this much in a really long time.”

“Really?” She raises her eyebrows, her lips never coming down from the upward curve they previously formed. “Well, a yacht on the Amalfi Coast can do that to you.” 

“Actually… You are doing this to me.” 

Silence settles around them. A heavy silence, but not an uncomfortable one. It gives time for his words to linger between them. Making her stomach flutter and her mouth break into this big and genuine smile. 

“Damn.” She chuckles, closing her eyes and shaking her head. 

“What?” he asks, lifting his face from her neck and kissing her cheek. Quick. Loud. And full of joy. “Gonna make fun of me again?”

She opens her eyes and lifts her head from his shoulder, holding onto his forearms as she turns to look at him.

“No, c’mon… ‘M not making fun of you,” she says, because she feels the need to explain. However… The playful smirk on his face indicates she doesn’t need to. He’s not mad. He’s not disappointed. He’s just teasing her back. Because he knows. He knows her, he gets her. And so, she sighs. “Okay, maybe I am a little…” 

Harry laughs, his lips touching his dimples as he throws his head back and then looks at her again. 

“But only,” she adds, a little bit louder so the smile on her own face doesn’t get in the way of her words, “because I think it’s really sweet and I don’t know how to react.”

“Hmm… C’mere,” he says, pulling her back into his chest and pressing his lips on her bare shoulder. 

It’s a gentle kiss. Sweet, but calculated. Not too long, but also not too short. Just wet enough to linger on her skin when he pulls away, but also quickly to forget when it’s followed by another one, slightly to the side, and another one, even further to his right. 

“You don’t—”

“Do you—”

They both speak at the same time, and they both also freeze at the same time, turning silence into giggles just a moment later. 

“Sorry,” she says. “You were saying?”

“Nothing important. You go.”

“My thing wasn’t important either.”

“Wanna hear it anyway.”

“But—”

“Say it.”

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “Fine. I was just about to ask if you want me to show you where Venus is.”

“Venus?”

“Yeah, the planet.”

“Oh, right,” he says, breathing hotly into her skin before he kisses her one last time and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Of course. Show me, please.”

“Okay, so… Remember Jupiter and Mars?” she stretches her arm in front of them, pointing to the sky. “They’re higher now, right? So if you look closer to the horizon,” — she lowers her arm, trying her best to give short and objective explanations — “you can spot another bright star.”

“Mhmm… And that’s Venus?”

“Yep.” She nods, then drops her arm and grabs the blanket, covering herself from the early morning breeze. “That’s Venus.”

“Amazing. And she’s just showing up now? When it’s about to be over?”

“Yeah…” Aurora smiles. “I always associate Venus with the sun, because we can only see it right before sunrise or right after sunset. Never like, in the middle of the night. And in the evening it’s the easiest to spot because it’s usually the first one to show up… Or the brightest.”

“That’s really cool… I had no idea. So we got Venus, Mars and Jupiter right in front of us, and to that side” —he shrugs his right shoulder, indicating what direction he’s talking about— “we got Saturn near the moon. Got that right?”

“Yep. Perfect.”

“Ha!” He smiles, sounding all proud of himself. “Tonight we gotta do this again. Wanna see if I can find them myself.”

Aurora smiles, too. “Okay. I’ll test you.”

“Deal.” 

Her smile turns into a joyful beam, and as their happiness nests in silence, Aurora feels herself somehow melting into him. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. And even maybe mentally, if that’s possible.

She isn’t really sure of what’s going on — and she can’t really explain it when she doesn’t understand it herself. What she knows, though, it’s that it’s nice to share that moment with him. And that she’s happy to be there with him. She knows that it’s nice to be wrapped inside his arms while the sky turns into lighter shades of blue and leaves its heavy darkness fully behind. That it feels good when he places his chin on her shoulder and watches how a new day begins right in front of them—how things change right in front of them.

Because things are always changing and things will always change.  

Although…

Even when constellations officially start to fade off, there’s a reminder of their existence still flickering from time to time. Letting her know they’re still there, and that they can still be found. That just because they’re about to stand behind and let others shine, it doesn’t mean they won’t get another chance to try again. To show up again. To be themselves again. 

And, yeah, maybe she’s taking it too far, maybe she’s reading too much into it. But Harry’s consideration and enthusiasm bring comfort to her heart, and as the horizon burns with flames and is draped with layers of honey, words fly out of her mouth before she can at least think about them first. 

“This is actually something Noah and I do together pretty often… Watching the sky.”

“Yeah? He likes it?”

“He does, yeah… He never showed any interest, but one time he woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and he just wouldn’t stop crying… So I took him to the living room and sat with him next to the window… I mean, I was just trying to distract him, y’know? So I started pointing out the ones I knew and telling stories about them.”

“What kind of stories?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs and chuckles, aware of the lies that she would probably have to explain as soon as he got older. “I was just trying to calm him down, so I was improvising… Told him how there are two bears protecting the other constellations, about this dog that’s their best friend and helps them sometimes, and that when we see the brightest stars twinkling it’s because they’re watching out for us, too… I don’t know. Silly things like that. I’m not really creative so…”

“Those are not silly things,” Harry says, and she can feel his jaw move on her shoulder with every word he lets out of his mouth. “I mean, at least I don’t think so. I remember when my grandma died and I was struggling to understand the concept of not seeing her ever again, and then my mum told me Nana had turned into a star, so she would always watch out for me and that I could talk to her every night. And that was nice.”

Aurora feels the way he shrugs behind her, but it feels almost forced. As if he’s just trying to prove he doesn’t think too much of his own vulnerable words. 

And yet, that doesn’t stop him from talking again and sharing even more with her.

“Sometimes I would look at the sky and pretend I was talking to her. Say hello, or goodnight, or things like that. Of course later I figured out it wasn’t real and I stopped, but deep down it kinda stuck with me, y’know? So now when I look up and see the stars, I like to… Y’know. Just think that my mum is up there, too. Y’know. Still around. Watching out for me. Hanging out with Nana. Stuff like that.”

Aurora bites her lip, taking in everything he just said. Aware of how hard it must’ve been for him to say that, and how even his voice and the words he used carried along that uneasiness, sadness and longing that comes with losing someone we love. 

She doesn’t want to make the silence too long or turn it awkward, though, so she doesn’t search for the perfect thing to say, she just slides her hands to his wrists and tries her best to twist her upper body and look at him, then says whatever it’s there for her to say. 

“That’s so beautiful.” 

Harry smiles, and it should seem blurry with how close he is, but he actually looks as clear as ever. As pure and vulnerable as ever. 

“I know,” he says. He turns his hands over and meets her palms, easily linking their fingers together. “And it’s not different from what you did when telling those stories to Noah… He’ll always feel protected now, he’ll have something to hold on to, even if he doesn’t say it out loud… And that’s because of you.”

Aurora bites the flesh inside of her cheek and breathes in, feeling the burning in her throat instantly watering her eyes. 

“Okay,” she blurts out and faces forward. “We should stop now, because I’m about to start crying.”

Harry chuckles, but it’s so soft and tender that it feels like he’s just hugging her. “Sorry, love.”

Shaking her head, she clears her throat and brushes her thumbs up and down the back of his hands. “It means a lot… Everything you said. So thank you.”

“Of course.” He squeezes her. 

“I mean,” she finds herself speaking again, “deep down I know it’s not silly and that he really loved that, because now whenever the sky’s clear he gets all excited for us to find them again.”

“And does he spot them easily?”

“Well…” Aurora smiles. “The bears are supposed to be Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, so sometimes… If they’re hard to spot and he’s really confident he saw them somewhere else, I’ll pretend he’s right. But the others, y’know, like the planets I showed you today, he’s usually pretty good at finding them, yeah.” 

“Hmm… What a smart little guy.”

Her face breaks with happiness and pride, and for once she doesn’t even try to hide it. 

Truth be told, Aurora knows she can’t take credit for Noah’s entire DNA, so there’s no point to deny that when it comes to intelligence, she hopes Zack’s genes will play a bigger role than hers. Which seems to be the case so far, because he’s constantly blowing up her mind with— 

“Only two left now,” Harry murmurs. “Venus and…”

Aurora looks around, taking in how the setting they’re in slowly turns into strawberry ice cream, and how thin gray clouds surf in thin waves made of yellow lemon rinds. It reflects all around them — from the sky to the water, and even the air they’re breathing in. Suddenly lighter. Fresher. Saltier. 

“What’s the other one?”

“Jupiter,” she whispers. 

“Jupiter.” Harry nods. “Right.”

It is so magical that it takes her breath away, and the fact that the last two planets in the sky are barely hanging on a string doesn’t seem so bad. Not if it means it will lead them to witness something so extraordinary like this.

“Can’t believe everyone else’s missing this,” she murmurs.

“I know…” he says. “Hands down the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen.”

Aurora nods, and a moment of silence goes by. 

Then Harry speaks again. 

“I’m happy it’s just the two of us, tho,” he says, his voice so low that Aurora isn’t even sure she is supposed to hear him. 

But she does, of course. 

She hears him, and she understands him. Because had their friends been there with them, things would be different. They probably wouldn’t even be sitting together, so they also wouldn’t be holding each other, or linking fingers, or whispering into each other’s ears. 

In the end, she would’ve shared the moment with everyone, but she wouldn’t have shared it with him. 

Much likely how the entire day is going to go by once they all wake up. 

Which, now that she thinks about it, will slightly suck. 

Before she can put together the words to agree with him, though, the sun finally peeks out, and the horizon turns into lava. 

Dark and intense as a tangerine, it quickly takes over all the other colors—the timid purple here and there, the pink, the yellow. 

It’s just as beautiful as before, albeit a little bit different. Because from now on, she knows it’ll be quick. She knows even blinking could mean missing something, and she knows it won’t take long for everything to go back to normal. For the magic to end. For things to be over. 

And perhaps Harry’s line of thinking is traveling the same route, because he leans in and presses his lips on her shoulder, sighing loudly to her skin before he moves to the side and kisses her again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Aurora bites her lip and breathes in slowly, filling her stomach with air before letting it all empty again. 

He’s good at this. He’s good at teasing her and making it happen, both at the same time. He’s good, and Aurora likes that—she wants that. So she closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side, giving him more access. Giving him more room, and more skin. More to kiss, and more to taste.

Harry curls his lips up as he takes them further up, spreading more distracting kisses all the way through her neck. Following a sweet, gentle path that he makes sure to equally enjoy in every step of the way, up until the corner of her jaw. 

“Is this ok?” he murmurs, low and husky, then takes her earlobe inside his mouth. 

Shit.

Aurora’s body tenses all at once, and then a shiver runs down her spine. 

He doesn’t wait for an answer before kissing her skin again, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t need one—there’s absolutely no reason for him to believe it isn’t okay to make her melt and sigh against him. Just like there’s absolutely no reason for her to do anything that would put a stop to what he’s doing right now.

And yet, it’s like her body reacts on its own, because next thing she knows she’s already turning her head to the side and searching for him.

Harry meets her with his chin at first, bumping it into her cheek before he tilts his head down and slides his nose all the way to her mouth. 

As soon as they’re within reach, their lips act like magnets, immediately curling and molding around each other.

Aurora breathes in, as if she’s been lacking all this time, and Harry breathes out, as if he’s been holding it in all along. 

Slow, but undoubted. 

Wholehearted. 

He lets go of her fingers and brings his hand to her jaw, holding her in place while his other arm remains around her waist. 

The way his forearm rests on her chest, almost sinking between her breasts, fires an alarm inside her brain, and Aurora shuts it down by bringing her own free hand to his wrist and keeping him there.

It’s uncomfortable to kiss him like this—with her head tilted back and to the side. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s also comforting. The best kind of comfort, actually. To have him so close, so awkward, so real. So willing to just be there with her. 

It makes her belly flutter, and her hands itch. 

It makes her crave for more. 

So when he pulls away, and when the sound of their lips parting echoes on the empty highest deck, Aurora drops her hands and shifts between his legs, turning and leaning sideways against him. 

That is all Harry needs to take the hint and move as well—to get rid of the blanket, then find her waist and pull her along as he shuffles to lay down. 

“Here,” he says, rolling on his side and holding the pillow for her to use. 

Smoothly and effortlessly. 

Aurora lifts her head and makes herself comfortable, watching his pretty features as he holds his weight on one elbow and brings his free hand to pull her hair out of her face.

His gaze follows his own movements, keeping track of his hand as he puts her untamed waves behind her ear, and also as he brushes the back of his fingers down her neck and through the curve of her shoulder and extension of her arm. 

He’s respectful, but also straightforward. Brushing her bicep while actually scanning her breasts, then settling his palm on a covered spot on her side while he keeps running his eyes past her tiny silky shorts and all the way through her exposed legs. 

Suddenly, Aurora is very conscious of the way heat spreads through her veins, the way her heartbeat speeds up, and the way her belly quivers. 

She’s nervous, she knows she is. She hasn’t thought about being with anyone other than her husband (well, ex-husband) for almost a decade now, so it’s only natural her instincts are shouting for her to squirm away or hide herself. Even though she more than definitely doesn’t want to squirm away or hide herself. Especially from him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry murmurs, almost to himself, lost in sight around her ankles. 

Aurora swallows. 

Shadows of orange meet his silhouette, and the light blue behind him contrasts nicely with the green of his eyes. He looks kind of angelic, to be honest, praising her when there’s nothing but affection and admiration on his face. 

“You think so?” she asks, then brings both arms between their chests, her hands nestling around his sweatshirt. 

Harry brushes his thumb up and down her waist and nods. 

“Always thought so,” he says, as if it was the most natural thing to share. And then he wanders his gaze up through her body and settles his attention inside her eyes, and Aurora feels the intensity of his many emotions pouring into her. 

It’s hypnotizing, and it knocks the air out of her lungs. 

“Always the most beautiful girl in the room,” he adds. 

Aurora’s lips curl around a tiny and timid smile, and Harry’s gaze shifts to them. He leans in, then, closing his eyes and sealing his words by softly and simply pressing his mouth to hers. 

Her chest squeezes around her heart, so she closes her eyes and slides one arm up, pressing her palm to the back of his neck and encouraging him to stay there. 

Which he does, at least for another second or two. And even when he pulls away—even when he creates the tiniest distance between their mouths and squeezes her waist so he can shift closer and lay half on top of her—he still remains close enough to let her know it’s not over yet. And he’s not going anywhere.

Aurora keeps her eyes shut and sighs, instinctively puckering when his mouth fully touches hers again. Careful. Polite. As though he’s introducing himself and letting his presence be known before he curls around her bottom lip and sucks her flesh into his mouth. 

The quietest and softest whimper vibrates in Aurora’s throat, and Harry deepens his fingers around her waist. 

With a hum, he tastes her like he’s been craving for it his entire life. Like it’s the most delicious flavor he’s ever found. Or like he’s hoping to take a snippet of her forever with him. 

He takes his time. And enjoys himself. Only letting go of her lip to peck her mouth once and then going for it again. 

Except now he sucks her flesh in and secures it between his teeth, then holds it in as he pulls away. 

For a moment, it’s almost painful. But it also brings a fire to her chest, and then a new whine to the back of her throat. 

And then it’s almost embarrassing, how he leaves her hanging as he groans and suddenly lets her go. 

It takes Aurora a moment to realize nothing else is happening. That she’s just laying there with her eyes closed and mouth parted, and that he isn’t kissing her anymore. 

So she licks her lips and blinks, swallowing as she finds him already staring at her. 

Attentive.

Handsome. 

Preoccupied. 

Affectionate. 

With a racing heart, she spreads one hand open on his chest and takes the other up on the back of his head. Moving as much as she can whilst her arms remain tucked between them. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and although she doesn’t mean to whisper, apparently it’s all her voice can come up with right now. 

Harry smiles. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head twice. “‘M just enjoying the view.” 

Aurora rolls her eyes, but she also mimics his smile and turns her head, avoiding to look at him in case heat spreads through her cheeks. 

“Hey,” he calls with another squeeze to her waist. “C’mere.”

He’s leaning in before she fully tilts her head back, meeting her mouth with a little more intent than he’s shown so far. 

Aurora closes her eyes and feels him smashing their lips together only for a second before he loudly breaks them apart, and then smashes them again, and again, and again. 

And again. 

The cute, little and repetitive mwah, mwah, mwah echo in her mind, causing her to smile and, very quickly, inevitably break into a giggle. 

Harry smiles at her reaction, then moves his playful tenderness to her chin — mwah — her cheek — mwah, mwah, mwah — her nose — mwah — and her other cheek. 

Mwah.

“Harry!” She laughs, bringing both hands back to her chest and squirming away. 

Mwah.

“Stop!”

Mwah, now closer to her beaming mouth, and then mwah, right on top of her parted lips and exposed teeth. Kissing not only her, but also her laughter and her happiness. Sharing it with her. 

The gesture makes her chest feel lighter, and when he pulls away again, it compels her to lift her head and follow him. Stealing a new kiss of her own—one that’s even longer and even louder than all others before. 

Mwahhhhh.

Harry smiles, and as Aurora drops her head back to the pillow and blinks to the bright and clean sky, he brings his hand up to the side of her neck and lowers his face to touch his forehead with hers. 

It’s kind of adorable, really, how cozy and laid-back he looks. His eyelids are shut and his mouth is slightly parted, as if he’s taking a moment to recollect himself, but the emotion behind his actions is still present. Deepening on a dimple and drawing the clearest upward curve on his lips, or even coming out of his chest and warming up her face with short heavy breaths. 

Then it is also kind of impressive, how he mixes all that with confidence and maturity. How manly he presents himself, even though he’s full of cheesy lines and teasing words. How strong and tough he proves to be, even though his behavior is mostly carried by vulnerability and tenderness. Or how deeply he makes her feel, even though he doesn’t seem to be trying so.

Kind of adorable, kind of impressive, but also kind of crazy, isn’t it? Almost kind of scary. How easy it is to be with him like this. How moments around him keep causing this friendly and familiar feeling inside her, and how much playfulness and fun he constantly brings to the table. And at the same time, how quickly he’s sparking so many emotions inside her body. How he’s reminding her about things she didn’t even notice she forgot about, and how he’s leading her to realize how neglected her own desires and needs have been all this time. 

The up and down brush of his thumb on her throat is nothing but soft and innocent, and yet it keeps bringing a new level of heat to the blood rushing through her veins. The way he looks (with his tempting lips and scruffy growing facial hair), the way his body feels (pressing on her side while one of his legs rests placidly on top of hers), and even the way he’s dressed (clothed from up to toe with the most simple and plain set of sweats). 

Everything about him is making her body itch. 

Everything. 

And, to be completely honest, Aurora doesn’t know what to do with that. Or how she’ll go the entire day without going insane because of that. How she’ll watch him laugh without being able to run her fingers through his hair, or how she’ll sit next to him without being able to nuzzle on his chest, or how she’ll talk to him without being able to kiss his mouth. 

She licks her lips, then, running her eyes over his too close and blurry face.

It doesn’t even make sense to feel like this for a person she’s just met again. 

She knows it’s probably because she hasn’t gotten any attention in a really long time and he’s suddenly there, willing to give it to her. Being nice to her. Making her laugh. 

She knows it’s temporary, that as soon as they leave the yacht their paths will part again and she’ll realize how overdramatic she’s being right now. 

Rationally, she knows. 

But still, what is she supposed to do? 

Is she supposed to ignore how she’s feeling? 

Is she supposed to ignore how he is making her feel?

Well… 

Maybe, yes. 

Maybe it’s for the best if she offers they go back inside and meet again when everyone’s around. 

Maybe that’s the smart, mature thing to do.

And yet… 

It is not what she wants. 

Is she supposed to do it anyway?

With a sigh, that’s mostly to shut the voices inside her head, she slides her hand back to his neck, then allows her fingers to get lost in between his curls.

Things are quiet around them — too quiet. Waves crash distantly downstairs, seabirds cry out hazily from time to time, and despite the fact that the sun is fully out and the sky has settled into the most gorgeous blue and the most vivid yellow, other voices apart from theirs have yet to be heard.

It’s encouraging, somehow. To be all alone and under such a paradisiac view. 

Maybe that’s what prompts Aurora to move next, when she tilts her chin up and down and brushes the tip of her nose with his own. Once and twice. 

It’s a silent call for attention, and also a call that he picks up immediately, blinking and holding her stare with a new set of emotions behind them.  

“Can I tell you something?” 

Aurora scratches the back of his head and nods. Their noses brush again. 

“Of course.”

“I can’t feel my arm anymore,” he whispers.

Aurora’s mouth curls up, then soft laughter breaks from her chest. 

Harry smiles as well, then they both shift and shuffle until he’s laying on her other side and holding his weight on his other elbow. 

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out with a chuckle, waving his hand up and down while finding a spot on top of her thighs for his other leg. “Ten minutes and we’ll switch again.”

“Okay.”

Still smiling, Aurora throws one arm around his shoulders and angles her body towards him, albeit a little bit more intentionally than before. Her other hand rests between them, her own elbow tucked between her breasts while her fingers hold onto the neckline of his sweatshirt. 

Nothing else is said between them, no plans or intentions are shared, and yet it’s like they’re perfectly in sync. 

Their eyes meet, then their smiles fade off. A moment goes by, and the ocean fills their silence as Harry shifts his sight to her mouth, then gets interrupted by his own heavy exhale when she drags her tongue to lick her lips. 

“I swear to God…” he murmurs, already lowering his face closer to hers. 

He places his arm across her belly and molds his palm around her side, then she reaches up and kisses him. Or maybe he leans in and kisses her—it’s hard to tell, with both of their mouths already open and their tongues instantly searching for each other.

Eyes closed, Aurora twists her hand around his sweatshirt and hums. And Harry sneaks the arm that’s holding his weight underneath her neck and hums. And just like that, it’s like an unspoken hesitation instantly dissolves, or like their brains finally get rid of the restraints that were pulling the strings up until then, because, very quickly, it becomes very desperate. Very messy. Very needy. And very intense. 

For both of them. 

Their kiss is now a kiss that can be heard, felt, and seen. A kiss that doesn’t stop there. A kiss that crushes her tightly onto the sunbed and pulls urgently down his chest. A kiss that tangles her fingers around his hair. A kiss that tilts their heads to one side, and then to the other one. A kiss that’s loud, and wet, and over the top. And yet never enough.

A kiss that feels right.

Damn it feels right. 

So, so right. 

Like putting together matching pieces of a rare puzzle. 

Maybe not the most gracious kiss she’s shared with someone, nor the most tactful to display in such a clear and open space, but certainly one that consumes her like no other. So much so that it echoes sweetly through a whine in the back of her throat, revealing how gone for it—for him—she already is.

Harry slows down, then. He sucks around her lip and brings his hand to her throat, barely holding there for a second before he slides his palm to her collarbone and then further down, covering where she’s beating fast and out of tempo for him. 

“I’ve dreamed about this for so long,” he says around her lips, digging his nails on her skin and the heel of his palm on the swell of her breast. Almost as if he’s trying to catch her heart inside his very own hand. “About you… About us…” 

He brushes the tip of his nose with hers and, just like that, kisses her once more. Not giving her one second to absorb or question his confession before he’s taking over her mouth all over again.

And Aurora has questions, lots of them, but she’s also distracted. So distracted. Because Harry isn’t holding anything back anymore. He’s hungry, vehement, and demanding. Ardent. He kisses her so loudly that it is all she can hear, and so deeply that it is all she can feel. And she likes it. All of it. 

So, so much.

She likes how he knots the hand that’s underneath her head around her hair and holds her tight, and then how he forcefully presses his other palm to her body when he strokes it down, feeling and squeezing all the curves of her chest, belly, and waist.

She likes how he isn’t embarrassed to use his tongue and teeth, or to show how much of her he seems to want to devour. How he sometimes moves his kisses to her jaw, and to her neck, but then quickly comes back to her mouth. As if he couldn’t stay away. 

She likes how he touches her leg. How he teases with the hem of her shorts. How he always, always goes back to her sides. As if digging his fingers into her flesh is his favorite thing to do. And then how he presses her down and yet pushes her up at the same time, as if he couldn’t decide who should be on top. 

She likes how fast, short-winded, and never-ending it goes. How it feels. How none of them can’t seem to bring themselves to wrap it up. 

It’s like the entire universe stops around her, but also like her very own personal world finally starts spinning again. Like his kiss is the single drop to cure a hundred years of thirst, but also like getting away from his lips would mean going through another hundred years of starvation. 

Everything he does fits perfectly with everything she does. And everything she needs. The way he holds her, the way he licks her, the way he breathes into her—the way he breathes from her. The pace in which he moves, the angle in which he tilts his head, the eagerness in which he pulls apart and moves in again.

Everything — everything — is good. 

And she really, really, really likes it. 

All of it.

So much.

Oh God. 

It’s just… 

It’s been so long since anyone has made her feel like this. 

So long since her body reacted on her own, since she didn’t feel the urge to reprehend her instincts or shut down her needs.

So, so long, that she isn’t even surprised when she snaps out of it. When she brings both arms around his neck and pulls him fully on top of her. Spreading her legs open so he lays in between them, then taking both hands to the back of his head and raking her fingers all over. Twisting them around his curls. Tugging him close. Trying to find a way to get more of it, to get more of him.

She whines, as if frustrated that she can’t merge their bodies together, and Harry hums. Low and husky. Deep in his throat. 

He kisses her fervently, like he means it, like he needs it, meanwhile settling his weight down and adjusting their heights so his hips are pressed against hers.

That’s when his bulge pokes between her legs, and the softest moan escapes from Aurora’s throat. 

The thin and tiny fabric of her shorts does close to nothing to cover her underwear, making it ridiculously easy for her to feel his shape through his sweatpants. 

Full, firm, and hard. 

Heavy between her legs.

It catches her by surprise, to be honest, and she’s got no idea how further she should go —or how further he is willing to go— but she doesn’t even try to fight the feeling that creeps in. Instead, she brings both legs to hook them around his waist and finds the strength to move up and down. Timidly, just barely. Feeling him stroke exactly where she’s also grown warm, wet and needy for him. 

This time, they both moan. 

Harry brings both hands to her waist and squeezes her, holding onto her as he bends his legs by the knees and spreads them open, placing them underneath her thighs. It gives him the freedom to own the task to himself. To kiss her while wandering his palms through her sides, and then through her arms, then finally to meet her hands and link their fingers together. 

It allows him, next, to drop their connected touch onto the pillow, then cage her head between his elbows and rest his forehead on hers. Leaving all kissing behind, because now all of his energy seems to be focused on rolling his hips collectedly. As though he’s desperately trying to keep it together. To slow himself down. To make the feeling last. 

“Damn,” he breathes around her mouth. “Auri…” 

Eyes still closed, she links her ankles even higher around his waist and squeezes her fingers around his knuckles. “Yeah?”

Another roll of his hips, and a deeper groan from his throat. 

“I just…” he tries, but it sounds like coming up with words it’s nothing but a struggle right now. Like he physically can’t. Like he needs a few moments to recollect himself. “‘M… Sorry.”

Aurora blinks. 

Harry is already staring at her. 

He lets go of one of her hands and brings his own to her face, cradling her cheek while catching his breath and trying to speak again. 

“I’m… I’m pretty sure this is about to be the best… And also the most embarrassing thing… That’s ever… Happened to me.”

Aurora breathes in and out. Heavily. 

The fact that he’s stopped moving doesn’t go unnoticed by her, but he’s still pressed between her legs. And she’s still feeling him. And she’s still craving him. 

“Why’s that?” she asks. 

“Because…” He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, then meets her stare again. 

This time, Aurora finds a different mix of emotions hiding between the green of his irises. He looks softer now, maybe ashamed, and she can swear there’s even pain somewhere in there. 

It causes her to bring her hand to his wrist and brush her thumb up and down. Soothing him. 

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Jesus. Absolutely nothing’s wrong.” He chuckles, nervously. “It’s just… It’s you… And I’m really trying here but… But I think I’ll be done in less than a minute.”

Oh.

Aurora blinks.

And then… 

Oh…

The look on his face makes sense now. 

The furrowed brows. 

The frown around his mouth. 

The struggle. 

The sorrow. 

It’s cute—at least she thinks it is. And even though she doesn’t know what the best way to react is, she figures she probably shouldn’t be curling her mouth up (which she is), nor laughing (which she is about to). 

“Huh.” Harry raises his eyebrows and flinches his head back. “Really? You think that’s funny?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“‘M not laughing!”

She totally is. 

Harry snorts. 

“You totally are!” 

Yup.

“I’m sorry!” She lifts her head to kiss him, but Harry dodges her. “C’mon!”  

She tries again, and Harry slides his touch from her cheek to her neck, then pushes her back down onto the pillow.

All at once, Aurora swallows her laughter and gets rid of her smile, feeling his big and strong hand holding around her throat as she gulps down. 

Shit.

At first, her brain recreates the scenario she’s become familiar with, and Aurora freezes. Waiting for the anger to come out. Waiting for the yelling to come out. Waiting for the voice telling her she’s ruined everything —again— and that she’s always finding a way to embarrass him.

But then Harry brushes his thumb up and down and rolls his hips once, and Aurora exhales through her nose. Shoulders dropping while her brain catches new details and reads the new context she’s in—noticing the patience on the slight tilt of his lips, the tenderness in which he holds her stare, and the carefulness in which he lets go of her throat and meets her hand. Then how he intertwines their fingers and drops them back to the pillow, above her head and next to his other hand.

His other hand, that’s still linked to hers. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his head hovering over hers. “Won’t do that again.”

Aurora shakes her head. 

He does that a lot, doesn’t he? Reading her mind and knowing exactly what she wants. What she needs. Constantly embracing her, and constantly encouraging her. And never making her feel bad or guilty for the things she does. Or for the way she is. 

“You didn’t scare me. It’s just… I just…”

He nods. “I know.”

Of course he does. 

In years of knowing him, Harry’s been nothing but sweet, thoughtful, and gentle to her. A great friend, really. There’s just too much kindness inside his soul, and absolutely no reason for her to believe this scenario could ever be remotely similar to the one she’s been trapped in for so long. 

On top of that, there’s also the fact that for the last twenty-four hours or so, Harry’s been also sharing with her a side of him she’d never seen before. Flirting with her. Kissing her. Touching her. Growing bolder and bolder. Making her feel things he hadn’t made her feel before. 

Overwhelming her in a way she’s never experienced before.

Which is why she launches herself forward and kisses him, refusing to let the ghost of her ex-husband’s actions get in their way. 

“I don’t mind if you last less than a minute,” she murmurs, then unhooks and hooks her ankles around him, tightening her legs a little bit more and pressing her heels on his lower back. “Just keep going.”

Harry stares at her for a second or two, then leans in and kisses her. 

“Ok,” he murmurs, too, then squeezes her hands and resumes the rolling of his hips. “But just so y’know, I love when you smile. And when you laugh. And I’m glad my lack of strength to hold myself around you amuses you.”

He kisses her, again, and Aurora’s smile is lost against his mouth. All and any previous thoughts swiped away by his tongue. Or nibbled by his teeth. Or sucked by his lips. 

The way he moves is too intentional now, sinking and rubbing across her center in a very steady and very meaningful way. Back and forth. Back and forth. 

Her entire body grows hot, and the very air around them seems electrified. She can feel how filthier and filthier the situation gets—how the desire pools between her legs, and how easier he slides with each stroke he takes. 

And she’s sure that if she can feel it as he grinds on her, he can feel it, too.

So she removes her hands from his and brings them to the back of his head, tugging his hair to force him to look at her. Hoping to let him know she’s all in right now. That he can do whatever he wants, at any speed he wants. 

Harry holds her gaze, then brings one hand to her face and moves a little bit harsher. A little bit faster. Creating a new pace while they shelter into each other’s eyes and their breathings speed up. 

“Shit,” Harry curses. And then he groans—a sound that is very similar to a moan, and that gets muffled by her own mouth as he kisses her. 

She pushes him closer and kisses him, too. Searches for his tongue and nibbles his lips. Hums inside his mouth. Matches his urgency and encourages his recklessness. 

And then she brings one hand to his shoulder, and sneaks it underneath his armpit, and follows an invisible path from the side of his chest, to his waist, to the waistline of his sweatpants. 

Harry breaks the kiss apart and looks at her with what can only be described as shock in his eyes. 

He says nothing, though, so Aurora shuffles her hips and places her hand between them. Covering him while he gives her room and also rolls his hips again.

Long, full, and thick. 

Against her fingers and palm. 

Harry falters and moans, instantly closing his eyes and thrusting his hips forward.

Aurora wraps her touch around him as best as she can, filling her hand and feeling him up. Wishing she could do way more than that.

Harry moans again, and again. Shortly and breathlessly. He furrows his brows and stops moving, then takes his own hand to cover hers and guide her. 

“I— Shit—I’m gonna cum.”

Aurora nods and kisses him. And touches him. And feels him. And hears him. And absorbs him. 

“Auri,” he suddenly calls, and it’s a little bit heavy, a little bit tense. Different than any other time she’s ever heard him call her name before.  Sounds like a plea, sounds like a warning, sounds like affection and admiration. Sounds like he’s fighting his own release whilst climbing toward a desperate climax at the same time. Like he’s struggling to let go. 

“That’s me,” she whispers, and a low rumble of pleasure bursts from his chest. 

It makes her sweat on the back of her neck and adds a new tingling sensation deep in her belly, one she can only handle by squeezing him tighter and moving even faster. Harsher. 

“C’mon,” she adds. “Do it.” 

Harry closes his eyes and furrows his brows, then parts his lips and crashes onto her chest. Vulnerable and real, moved by involuntary and helpless spasms that have him moaning and making a mess out of his own clothes. 

She feels it through the fabric. The relief. The release. The moment he shatters and shudders. And Aurora stays with him through it, in awe of how beautiful he is. And sounds. And feels. She hugs him with her free arm and kisses his temple, and his forehead. And when Harry tugs her hand and brings it up to his mouth, offering little kisses to her knuckles, she nuzzles her cheek into his curls and allows herself to smile. 

Allows Harry to stay hidden on her neck and catch his breath, whilst holding onto her fingers and crushing her body. 

Allows time to go by. 

And allows her heart to settle into a new beat. 

Blissful. 

Pleased.

Even though she didn’t finish herself.

And it’s just… 

Everything. 

She truly forgot being with someone could feel like this. That it could be more than the absent thrusting from behind, staring at the wall, and waiting for it to be over. That it could have other endings, apart from hiding tears away so she wouldn’t get a roll of eyes or have to hear “here we go again”. 

That it didn’t have to involve emptiness, coldness, or loneliness. 

That it could happen with someone who actually wanted to be with her. 

She forgot, because she had to forget. Because she was forced to. Because she had to let go of the version she was holding onto and move on. Stop hoping things would go back to what they were, accept the reality she was in, and get away from it. 

Which was really hard at first, because their relationship didn’t used to be like that. Of course it didn’t—Aurora used to love Zack. She used to be in love with him. She used to think he was the one. 

If she digs enough, she could probably still find a memory of him dropping his head back while finishing on her mouth, or him kissing her to muffle his crying moan with the last few thrusts. She could, if she tried, remember the way he made her sigh, curl her toes and breathe out his name in the dark. She could also recall moments of them falling asleep wrapped around each other, then waking up and repeating all over again. 

She could. 

But she can’t.

And she shouldn’t. 

So she doesn’t. 

Because those memories aren’t real anymore. None of them bring her happiness anymore, so she doesn’t dwell on them too much. Or at all. They don’t represent the man Zack turned out to be. Neither the kind of love she wished she could have received—or she thought she would receive. 

“You smell so, so nice,” Harry murmurs, brushing his nose up and down her throat. “Like peaches.” 

Aurora smiles and closes her eyes for a moment—a way to focus in the present and once again get rid of her line of thinking. 

“Thanks,” she says. “It’s my body wash.” 

Harry hums, then presses his lips where he’s been breathing from. A long, sweet, innocent kiss. One that lingers on her skin as he shuffles down and rearranges himself to lay his face on her chest, his temple right where her sternum begins, and his chin right where the swell of her breasts meet. 

“I think the crew is up,” he murmurs, and spreads his arms open, resting one hand near her shoulder and bringing the other to fidget with the strap of her top. Right in front of him. “Pretty sure I just heard people talking.”

“Oh…” 

Her chest tightens around her heart, and it’s hard not to pout at the idea of having to let go of him. 

“Yeah…” 

He wanders his hand on her side, down to her hips, then back up to her armpit. Without a word, he runs his fingertip across the hem of her top, scratching his nail on the surface of her breast. 

Aurora breathes in and out, then slides her hands on his head, threading her fingers through his curls and scratching his scalp—if only to enjoy the little time that’s left. 

“Do you wanna go downstairs?” she asks.

Harry shakes his head. 

“We’re not done here yet.” 

“We’re not?”

He shakes his head again, then slides his finger through the silky fabric, moving until he bumps on her nipple. 

“It’s your turn now,” he says, drawing circles and watching the tip grow perky and rigid. 

Aurora’s mouth twitches. 

“That’s a nice offer, but… Would it be weird if I said no?”

Harry tenses—she feels it on top of her—and then he withdraws his hand from her chest. Like her skin is on fire and he just burnt himself. 

“No, of course not. Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Oh my God,” Aurora snorts, then finds his hand and places it back on her breast. “Relax. I’m just really happy right now. And I feel good. So I just… I don’t know. I want to enjoy this a little bit longer, like this. With you. That’s all.” 

She spreads his fingers open, encouraging him to fully touch her, then moves her hand back to the back of his hair—where she decided they belong now.  

“Don’t stop touching me, tho. Feels good when you touch me.”

He brushes his thumb up and down, caressing the side of her boob. 

And Aurora feels the way he smiles, the way his cheeks move and the way his body relaxes. The way he feels heavier. The way he melts on top of her.

But then, he says nothing.

And as time goes by, only the birds and the ocean create a soundtrack to cover their silence. Plates click somewhere, and at some point a couple of voices finally make it to her ears. 

Still, none of them move. 

And none of them say a word.

“Are you awake?” Aurora whispers.

Harry nods. Once. 

“Mhm.”

She closes her eyes, and brushes the back of his head. 

Feels his hair between her fingers. 

Feels his breathing on her chest.

Feels the up and down of his stomach matching her own.

“You got so quiet…”

Harry hums.  

“I know.” 

“Why? What’s on your mind?”

“What you said… Felt good to hear. So I’m replaying it over and over again.”

Aurora smiles.

“What, exactly, are you replaying over and over?”

“I’m just really happy right now,” he says. “And, I want to enjoy this a little bit longer with you. Also, feels good when you touch me.”

Heat spreads through her cheeks, and she squeezes her eyes shut even tighter. 

“God… So apparently your cheesiness is contagious, after all.”

Harry chuckles, his body shaking on top of hers.  

“For what it’s worth, I’m really happy, too. Gross. But happy.”

Aurora snorts.

“Seriously, I need a shower.”

“I mean, you just came in your pants so… Yeah. I figure you do.”

He lifts his head, and Aurora tilts her chin down. 

Their eyes meet. 

“I did, huh? Because of you.”

She rolls her eyes.

Harry keeps going. 

“You made me cum in my pants. In thirty seconds. Like a horny teenager.”

At that, she laughs. 

Probably louder than she should, though, so she widens her eyes and brings her hand to cover her mouth.

Harry smirks.

“You made me cum, with that hand.”

“Oh my God,” she breathes out, laughing even more. “Really? This one?”

She takes her hand to his face and slides it from his forehead to his chin. 

Harry holds her wrist, keeping her palm in front of his mouth. 

“Mhm.” He kisses her, then speaks against her skin. “This beautiful, wonderful, ethereal hand.”

Aurora shakes her head, but she also brushes her thumb, caressing the top of his lips.

After a moment, she sighs and says, “I should get dressed. Don’t want people to see me like this.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What’s wrong with this?”

She shrugs, dropping her hand to her chest. 

“Just… Kinda shows off a lot, doesn’t it?” 

He looks down, scanning as much as he can without moving. 

And then he looks up. 

“Not enough, to be honest.” 

She smiles, and rolls her eyes. 

“Well, I won’t feel comfortable if any of the boys see me wearing this, so…”

Harry nods.

“So…” he repeats. 

“We should probably go downstairs.”

“We should, yes.”

“You should take a shower.”

“And you should change your clothes.”

“Exactly.”

“Yep…” 

They hold each other’s stares. 

Firmly. Deeply. 

Unabatingly. 

Wholeheartedly. 

“Just so you know,” he finally says, “this isn’t how I planned things to go between us.”

Aurora raises her brows. 

“Really? You mean you didn’t plan on coming to Italy and convincing me to watch the sunrise, then getting a hand job from me, on a yacht, at six am?” 

Harry’s mouth curls up. “Jesus. Not even in my wildest dreams I thought I would ever be this lucky.”

Aurora snorts, then playfully smacks her hand on his shoulder. 

“Shut up.” 

“No, I mean it, tho. I’m happy, but if we go back downstairs and for any reason this ends up being the last chance I get to be with you, I’ll never forgive myself.” 

She flinches her chin back, eyebrows furrowing. “Why?” 

“You didn’t finish.”

“Oh…” She nods. And then shrugs. “Well, it was my choice, tho. You offered.”

“No, I know, still… Kinda feel like an asshole.”

“Don’t. I really enjoyed it. Everything. I swear.” 

Harry sighs, and a crease appears in the middle of his forehead. Without a word, he wanders his eyes around her face, as if checking for any indication of a different answer—which she knows he won’t find, because she means what she’s saying. 

“Hey,” she says, taking both hands to the back of his neck. “I mean it, okay? Don’t worry about that. Besides, isn’t it more exciting like this? Knowing that you kind of owe me?”

He raises his eyebrows and moves back up, hovering her face with his. 

“I kind of owe you, huh?”

Aurora nods. 

“You do. So, y’know, we kind of have something to look forward to…”

“Right. That being, an orgasm.”

“Exactly.”

Harry smirks, then smiles, then chuckles. 

He leans down and kisses her—one, two, three, four, five times. The same cute, little mwah, mwah, mwah from before echoing loudly inside her. 

“God you’re amazing.” 

Mwah. 

“Can’t wait,” 

—mwah— 

“for the next” 

—mwah— 

“time.” 

Mwah. 

Mwah. 

Mwah. 

[saphiccarma]

Title: and I'm your best friend (but your a killer)

Ship: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

[A/N this was meant to be a short one shot and then I got carried away lol)

The last thing Natasha wanted to do was bother you, not after you had done so much for her and she was always disappearing under the guise of work. Despite that, she was knocking one your door with bruised knuckles and a small duffle slung over her shoulder that felt heavier than it should.

Slowly, the door opened and she was met with your face that was pinched with worry. You furrowed your brows at her, and despite the unusual time you appeared wide awake.

"Natalia," unlike all the other times Natasha had met you, your voice curt, "What's up?" Normally you would let her in without question and have her sit down while you made tea or hot cocoa.

"I need a place to stay," her mouth managed to form.

"Look-," glancing back inside with a sigh, your fingers twisted around the door handle tightly, "I don't know if I-"

"Please, I'll be gone by morning," she cut in, her body begging to rest. There was no where to else to go for her, with SHIELD down she had no base.

SHIELD had been her base, the closet thing to home - not that she ever stung around somewhere long enough to develop a home. But all her belongings, other than a few at a couple safehouses, where gone. Her apartment on base was gone. Sam's house was most likely not undisclosed information anymore and she couldn't go with Steve, he was never good at espionage.

You pressed your lips together in thought, face more taught and worried than it had ever been.

"Fine."

The door was widened slightly to let her in and Natasha stumbled into the apartment, her legs carrying her over to flop on the couch where she usually slept. You had bought a pull out for her years ago when she continued to crash at your place time after time.

You entered the area holding a white box stamped with a white cross. Uncharacteristically silent you sat on the coffee table across from her, quietly mumbling for her to remove her shirt. Bandaging her wounds, your hands worked with an unfamiliar harshness. Whenever she came to you with wounds, you never asked questions accepting the answer from the one time where she told you she worked as a security guard.

Tugging harshly at a wound around her bicep you tore the end of the bandage off before slapping another onto her cheek. She scratched at the irritable , itchy material against her cheek, watching as you left the room for a moment.

Her eyes wandered from the hallway you retreated to towards the desk sitting in the corner of the room. Against her gut telling her not to, Natasha peeked at the open computer emitting a soft light. Pulled up in a google chrome browser were some of the files she had released, files on her. You had read the files.

In her 8 years of knowing you, Natasha never once told you about her past. She let you know her as the redhead who spilled coffee in the middle of a cafe. You had grown to know her as the woman who mysteriously showed up at your house with cuts littering her face. Her impression on you was as an adult who worked as a security guard and didn't have a family to go to.

She re-used her old name when around you. When she became an avenger, you didn't question how she looked like a female superhero on TV - it was a blessing Natasha had managed to mostly avoid the cameras.

But now you knew. You were everything she wasn't, Natasha didn't you to know about her life that was dripping with blood. Your eyes sparkled bright and smiled shimmered in contrast to her dark shadows. It was a secret she kept close to her chest, but it was out the window now.

Re-entering the room you followed her eye line to the computer, your lips twisting further downward. Natasha opened her mouth to speak in her defense, but you cut her off.

"Where you ever going to tell me? Or were you going to leave me in the dark Natalia? Or is it Natasha? Or Natalie Rushman? Nadia Vostokoff?"

Tears brimmed your eyes as you spoke, your voice cracking at the end.

"Y/N I was going to tell you, but you-" Natasha began, her voice surprisingly strong despite her stomach twisting into knots.

"I what? I was too innocent? Too oblivious? I'm not a fucking child Natalia! I deserved to know!" The clothes you had been carrying for her dropped to floor silently as you threw your hands up in frustration, "I deserved to know." your voice was quieter, a broken whisper as you repeated your statement.

For once in her life Natasha was at a loss for words. You had never acted out like this before, usually calm and quiet.

You took her stunned silence as a que to keep going, "I deserved to know my best friend had done all that," your hand flailed towards the computer, "You should have fucking told me!"

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish before she schooled her face and forced her mouth and brain to form coherent sentences, "I know."

"If you know then why didn't I?" you said.

"It never came up," Natasha shrugged, reverting back to her roots of diverting the conversation, "Can we talk about it in the morning? Please?" She gave you those wide eyes that always worked, and it seemed you knew she was manipulating you but regardless you sighed and plucked the clothes off the ground.

Crossing the room in a few short strides you dropped the clothes into her lap, the smell of your perfume flooding her nose. Without another word you stalked to your bedroom, heavy footsteps echoing with anger.

<__________>

Natasha was gone early the next morning without giving you a chance to talk to her about it. It was clear she wasn't welcome there anymore. Neatly, she had folded the clothes and set them on the counter with a note.

I'm sorry I never told you. I'll be out of your hair now.

-N.A

Her heart throbbed painfully and there was a twinge in her abdomen as she snuck out the window into the alley behind your house, the gravel crunching beneath her feet. There were only a few places she could go now. The Senate would most likely want her to give a statement, and despite that being the last thing she wanted to do, Natasha knew it would happen eventually.

Sure enough, the next when watching the news - the Senate was announcing that they wanted to know her where abouts so they could have her give a statement. Reluctantly, but hopeful for a chance to potentially clear her name, Natasha gave the stupid statement and walked off with a bang.

Tony approached her after that, pulling up outside with one of his fancy cars and acted like he was picking her up. Happy greeted her with a nod and pinched brows as he opened the door to the car. She slipped in, her heels nearly catching on the rim of the door. Sliding his classes down, Tony turned to face her with a wide grin.

"There's my favorite Russian Assassin," Natasha ignored the way her stomach churned at those words and focused on the car moving and the flashes outside, "So, I know that you need some where to go know and since I have a bunch of space leftover, you wanna stay at the tower? It'll be like old times."

Nothing ever came for free with Tony, but Natasha caught the caring glint in his eye and knew he just wanted to help. Grudging, she nodded her head - much to Tony's amusement as he grinned and slung an arm over her shoulder. She shrugged him off with a hard stare.

Life at the tower had been fine - Turns out Tony offered residence to Steve and Maria as well so they were both residing there (According to Maria she was merely working there, but Natasha had a suspicion Tony let her stay because of their minimal friendship). Bruce resided there. Natasha took one look at him, at his messy graying hair, dark eyebags and decided he would be an easy way to forget everything. Throughout that time she took up to flirting with the man. The usual enjoyment she got when she playfully flirted with you was not present when she did so with Bruce.

Over time, she kept tabs on you - watching as you moved out into the country and bought yourself a house and a truck.

Which led her to where she was now, knocking on your doorstep once more as Clint held her upright and the rest of the Avengers stood clustered behind her. Ultron did a number on them and it was reasonable Clint didn't want to bring everyone to the farmhouse. Despite not seeing you for a year, Natasha silently hoped you would help.

The door opened slowly, the movement conveying hesitance, and your tired face stared back. Dark bags half-circled your eyes and your hair was disheveled. A baggy shirt dangled off your right shoulder - which you righted once you caught sight of the group in front of you.

"Natalia?" the name was unwelcome at the time, but Natasha couldn't care to correct you, "Wha-?"

"Please, I know I said I'll be out of your hair, but we have no where else to go."

You exhale slowly, taking stock of the group before scrunching your nose and letting them in. Natasha barely missed tripping over a cat as she entered - a calico cat who bounded after you with excited meows. Scooping it up in your arms with a soft coo, you turned to face the group.

"Sorry about the mess," your eyes scanned over the group, entirely missing Natasha, "I never have anyone over so," a helpless shrug of your shoulders, "You guys can wash up upstairs, bathroom is first door the your right and there's an extra bedroom with another bathroom at the end of the hall. I'll make some dinner."

Natasha avoided you the entire time and they were gone the next morning.

<_________>

The next time she knocked on your doorstep was bruised and bloodied and with three companions. Yelena groaned behind her, the sound impatient and ready to rest.

"Sestra, is this person going to open the door or not?"

"Give her a minute Yelena, it's the middle of the night."

Eventually she knocked again, her bruised knuckles rapping against the door and a dog's bark echoing behind the door. Melina sighed impatiently behind her and Alexei let out an annoyed groan of exaggerated pain. When the rest of the group seemed ready to leave, even though Natasha knew you would answer the door (You always did), the door swung open - a dog's insistent barking still echoing through the house.

You looked worse than before with your eye bags deeper and skin paler. Sunken in cheekbones made you look like you were dying and your hair was messier than ever. Squinting your eyes you gently shoved the dog back into the house and stepped outside, closing the door.

"Natalia? What are you doing here?" your voice was scratchier than last time.

"We- um, we need a place to stay."

For a moment it looked like you would turn her away with the way your nose crinkled and eye brows pinched together with a sharp exhale. Thinking it over, you let them in with a tired sigh. Natasha took in the place, nearly the same as before aside from a few extra Monster cans littering the counter next to an open computer and dirty coffee cups lying around on a coffee table in the sitting room. You led them over there, having them all sit on the couch before flicking on a light.

"Alright," you placed your hands on your hips, a familiar sight, "I don't need to know who you are. There are two bedrooms upstairs, plus a blowup mattress in one of them, and the couch is a pullout. Split it up however you want, I don't really care. There should be some food in the fridge if your hungry," after giving them a once over once more you closed your eyes briefly and groaned, "You guys don't have a change of clothes do you? Fine, I'll be right back."

Before any of them could protest you were slipping on a pair of shoes by the door and snatching a pair of keys off the counter, the dog barking at you as you headed towards the door. Natasha caught the barest hint of a smile on your face you led the dog out the door to join you on your midnight errand.

"Who is that?" Yelena asked, her accent thick.

"....A friend," Natasha replied hesitantly, plucking at her suit, "We shouldn't stay here long."

Melina eyed her suspiciously.

"A friend?" Alexei guffawed, "Natasha she did not seem like your friend!" His loud voice echoed through the house.

"You three can have the upstairs rooms, I'll take the couch," Natasha ignored her fake father and ushered them all off the couch while she pulled out the couch. It snapped open with a pop and she found a fluffy blanket buried in a basket next to the couch.

Yelena was the only one remaining in the room, her skeptical gaze resting on Natasha.

"What Yelena?"

The blonde shrunk in on herself slightly at the harsh tone and Natasha forced herself to calm a little.

"Who is she?" she repeated her earlier question, this time with more persistence than before.

"A friend."

"Natasha, she did not seem to like you."

Natasha gave a one-shouldered shrug, aiming for indifference, but Yelena was a trained widow - trained to spot emotions even if you didn't want her to. She plopped down on the couch, her arms splayed out and peering up at Natasha with puppy-dog eyes, the one's the redhead often used on you.

"Please?"

Natasha huffed at her childish behavior, shoving Yelena off, "We had a falling out. She doesn't really like me anymore."

A thud echoed upstairs and Natasha's head snapped up before she raced up the stairs and burst into the first room. Alexei sat on the ground under Melina's patronizing stare. A cat - the same Calico as before - sat in front of them, it's back to the door. The creature meowed, inching forward towards the man on the floor who gave a shout and stood up, scrambling backwards. When Yelena entered and caught sight of the scene she burst out laughing.

"Are you scared of a котенок (cat)?" she asked teasingly, Russian accent even clearer through her amusement.

"That is a spawn of hell!" Alexei tried to defend himself.

In what Natasha assumed was an attempt to regain some of his pride Alexei aimed a small kick at the cat as it neared closer. The animal would have gotten launched into the wall had Natasha not scooped it up into her arms, ignoring the way the creature instantly burrowed into her.

"Alexei!" she screeched, "How do you think Y/N would react if you launched her cat into the wall!"

The man gave a sheepish shrug but still lifted his chin with pride. Yelena gave a shout of triumph next to her, pumping her fist into the air.

"What?"

"You gave me her name!" Yelena crowed, a bright grin on her face.

Smacking her fist on her forehead, the cat jumping out of her arms at the same time, Natasha groaned at Yelena's childish nature. She had given the blonde your name, which basically meant giving her your entire life story, but she figured Yelena would figure it out sooner or later.

You returned not soon after the cat incident, in that time Natasha had dug out Mac and Cheese from the pantry to cook for them, much to Yelena and Alexei's excitement. The cat, who she still didn't have a name for, paced around her feet, purring.

The crinkling of plastic bags alerted everyone of your return, and the sound of dog paws scrapping against the floor.

"Bosco! No! C'mon, crate!" She turned her head to see your arms full of plastic bags - Walmart bags - as you herded the dog towards a wooden crate sitting in the corner.

The dog promptly sat on it's rump, staring up at you with pleading eyes. You sighed and gave a shake of your head with a soft smile, "No, crate."

With a pitiful whine the dog turned and sulked to its crate, giving you sad eyes all the while. Once you had secured the dog you turned back into the kitchen, prompting Yelena to stop snooping through your computer and you set the bags on the counter.

"Ok," you pulled a can of monsters and some candy out of one bag before retrieving some basic groceries - milk, cheese, ham, bread, pasta - out of another, "I got you some clothes," you lobbed a bag at Alexie's head and slid another over to Melina, "Those two are for you, I wasn't sure what size Mr. Super Soldier over there needed," despite it being a joke Alexei preened at your comment, "and I took a god guess for the rest of you. Go get changed, I'll see if I can salvage Natalia's attempt at Mac and Cheese."

The redhead turned panicked towards her pot of water, it looked fine, but she had never the best at cooking. When the rest left the room Natasha hesitated, lingering in the entrance of the kitchen as you stirred the pot.

"What do you want Natalia?" turning around you leaned on the counter, arms crossed.

She wanted to know if you were ok. How you were doing. Why you looked so tired. If everything was well. What were your pet's names.

Instead she blurted, "Are you mad at me?"

You blinked owlishly at her for a moment before a sad chuckle left your throat, "Yeah, a little."

"Why?"

"Why?" you parroted, your eyebrows crinkling, "because I found out my best friend was a killer, and then when she promised to explain she left! Then you show up a year later with the Avengers, on my doorstep. Which I still have no idea how you found me. And then you don't visit at all after that before showing up with whoever those people are! Natalia I can't just be the person you come to when you need a place to hide, I have my own life!"

"Really?" she raised a brow, stepping closer, "because all I see is a broken girl. Have you seen yourself lately? You look half-dead. I wouldn't call that a life."

You scoffed, "Sorry that I'm going through some hardships right now with no one to turn to."

"Well it's not like you bothered to contact me either!" she exploded, her hands clenched into fists, "You think I didn't want to talk to you? Come here and have it be like old times where we had sleepovers that we were probably too old for?"

Both of you ignored the way the pot started bubbling over behind you, rather you took a step forward, chin tilted upwards. There was a staring contest between the two of you, a battle of wills. There had been fights between both of you before, one's that always ended like this - one's that Natasha always won.

Your lips started quivering and tears gathered in your eyes, but you held strong staring back at her defiantly. Natasha reached her hand up to brush away a tear that slid down your cheek but you slapped her hand away. Tension crackled in the air as you swallowed thickly and your bottom lips trembled more. A small sniffle escaped you and Natasha's heart broke at your obvious pain. You always hated confrontation, taking care to avoid it.

"Y/N," she reached a hand up to cup your cheek, pulling it back when you flinched.

Your head dipped down, "I have cancer Natalia," you whispered, the words nothing more than broken sounds.

Going from defiant to sad gave her whiplash but Natasha stared at you stunned, and suddenly your frail appearance made sense. The sunken in cheekbones, pale skin, shaky movements, the way your long-sleeve shirt clung to your bony arms.

"You what?"

"I have cancer," you repeated, continuing on her raised eyebrow, "breast cancer. Stage 4. Doctor didn't give me long to live."

She was at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say to someone who told you they had cancer? Once more she reached for your cheek, gently cupping it when you didn't pull away. You leaned into her touch, albeit hesitantly. Your eyes slipped closed.

Slowly Natsha leaned in, your lips millimeters from yours and she could hear your ragged breathing. She stared down her nose at your lips before gently pressing a kiss onto them. Your eyes snapped open, wide and disbelieving, but you didn't pull away - rather pressing in further. Her hands moved to your hips as she deepened the kiss. Your lips were soft, as she always had imagined, and she caught a whiff of your gentle perfume.

You pulled away first with a dopey smile on your face, "I've wanted to do that for a while."

"Me too," she whispered.

An un-lady like snort escaped you, "With the way you were looking at Banner last time?"

She twisted her lips, "Don't ruin the mood."

You let out a little laugh, the sound soft and angelic to her ears. She leaned in for another kiss and you were about to meet her halfway before a loud voice interrupted the moment.

"A friend!" Alexei exclaimed, "I see you were lying Natasha!"

You jumped away from her, much to Natasha's dismay, with a rosy blush on your pale cheeks.

"Alexei!" Natasha hissed, "Leave her be."

"Aww," Yelena cooed from behind him, her blonde hair let down and flowing past her shoulders, "Natasha has a girlfriend."

Your fiery blush was a welcome sight accompanied by your embarrassed laugh.

<__________>

Everything didn't go back to normal after that. The argument that had been going on for years was not shoved under rug. You had ended up confronting her about the next morning.

"Natali- Natasha," you fiddled with the sleeves of your shirt, "Can we talk?"

Internally Natasha cooed at your shyness before nodding and following you out the backdoor, greeted by the sound chickens.

"Look, I know that last night it might have seemed like we shoved it under the rug but I still wanted to talk about a few years ago. Because I deserved to know, y'know? And-" your voice cracked a little in the middle of your rambling as your face tilted downward, "And I was hurt. You were my best friend but it turns out you were lying to me all that time and then I had to find out through the internet. Natasha that- that hurt and-"

She placed her hands on your waist, effectively cutting you off and leaned in to give you a kiss, startled when you shoved her backwards.

"No," your voice was firm despite the small tremble in it, "You are not kissing your way out of this."

Natasha huffed, mainly frustrated at herself for reverting back to an old tactic before crossing her arms. Then uncrossing them, recrossing them, before eventually letting them drop to her side.

"Look- Y/N I wanted to tell you I did," she raised a finger at your raised eyebrow and open mouth, "No. Let me talk. I was going to tell you, but you were so...you were everything I wasn't. You were sweet and kind and caring and oh so innocent and I didn't want to ruin that. You were one of the first people to really care for me in a long while and selfishly I didn't want that to change."

"I didn't care that you had done all those things Natasha," unconsciously you pulled your arms around your waist, "I cared that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."

"I did trust you," she stepped closer, gently grabbing your hands in hers - ignoring the way you tried to pull away before taking a deep breath, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

She released one of your hands to cup your chin, gently tilting your head up. Your beautiful eyes were rimmed with tears and your bottom lip stuck out in a small pout. Tugging you towards her, you buriedyour face in Natasha's neck.

"We good now?" she whispered.

"Yeah."

Natasha held like that for a moment, awkwardly rubbing her hand up and down your back.

"You still have to explain the people in house though Natalia."

<________>

They were gone.

Wanda, Bucky - all of them. They just went poof. The News was calling it The Blip, some calling it The Decimation. Half the population of the world was gone. She stripped her suit, the thing covered in dirt, and stepped into the cold shower, letting the water run over her bruised body.

All she wanted was to wash up and return home to you. In the past years, she had taken to moving in with you - after finding Steve and Sam and freeing Wanda. You had welcomed the other's into the house as well and your place became somewhat of a home base for them. When Steve and the other's weren't there, Yelena used the place a base to house widows or as a rest stop.

Natasha took up residence permanently there and it was the best part of her life. She loved spending that quality time with you and wanted nothing more than to fly home and snuggle up with you in your bed and watch movies.

The only downside was your cancer wasn't getting any better. Natasha shivered, and not from the cold water, as she stepped out. You got worse every day put still put on a brave smile for her and gave life your all.

She glanced at her phone when a new notification popped, the message an unknown number. No one had her number aside from you, her family, and the avengers. Hesitantly she opened the message, giving it a once over. She read it again. And again. And a fourth time before dropping to her knees, a sob building in her throat.

We are sorry to inform you Ms. L/N has unfortunately passed away due to stage 5 breast cancer.

While part of her was touched that she was your emergency contact the information broke her. You were gone. You were gone and she wasn't there for you. Natasha promised she wasn't going to do as much superhero stuff, spend time with you instead, and the one time she was gone you died.

Natasha cupped her hand over her mouth when she got another message pop up, this one from a Yelena's phone.

This is Ana, a widow Yelena was planning to free. She got blipped.

The sob nearly tore it's way out of her throat as she blinked back tears. This is why she wasn't supposed to care. She wasn't supposed to love. She wasn't supposed to feel. But Natasha Romanoff learned to feel and care and love and it had broke her.

Natalia Romanova may not have cried, but Natasha Romanoff did and she had just lost nearly everyone that mattered.

[witch-hazels-musings]

tacenda

warning: hurt/comfort (reader believes the character doesn’t love them, rumors of loving someone else (D))(angst is very mild) 

includes: alhaitham(1,384), diluc (1,692), xiao (1,563)

character x gn reader | anthology | definition: “things better left unsaid”

you loved him. You’d known for a while but kept quiet, save for telling a few trusted friends your secret. Beyond yourself, they knew how often you thought about him even when you didn’t want to, knew how you searched for him in the crowd even though there was no way he’d be there.

They knew, you knew, but he never did; and he never would --

-- this silly love of yours would have to stay silent

some things are better left unsaid --

--

alhaitham

You stood on your toes to reach the shelf above you. It took several attempts but soon enough the book was back in place and you moved on to the next in your pile. 

The library was quiet. Just the way you liked it. No overbearing conversations, no rushing of bodies as they made their way through the campus. Just silent stillness, and the scent of books. 

You made your way down each isle, adjusting and correcting books that were out of place until the stack in your hands was empty. Turning back, you made your way to your cart but stopped when a familiar figure caught your attention. 

Alhaitham, the most attractive academician you’d seen in the short years you’d been here. You were introduced to his existence a year ago when you took a linguistics class on a whim and, there he was, sitting to the side making it impossible to focus on the lecture. The amount of times you’d stop functioning because of him was enough to give yourself second-hand embarrassment. 

No one should be that attractive, you thought. 

After some time, you realized you were just staring at him, so you shook your head and stumbled back to the book-cart. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw several others in the library staring at him too. A stunning creature made their way over to him and you lost all nerve to watch. Picking up a pile of books, balancing them in one arm so you could put them back with the other, you turned to head down an isle but glanced back to see Alhaitham in a dialogue with a person far above your league. 

If there was someone he liked, it was certain to be someone like them. 

It wasn’t surprising how popular he was. With a face like that it was a shock he didn’t have twenty confessions a day. You tried to still your straining heart, did your best to ignore the sting in your eyes. It would make putting the books back a bit more difficult if you couldn’t see. 

-- 

You wandered through the isles. Careful to not make the floorboards creak to loudly as you scanned the authors names. “M ... Ma ...” Running your finger over the spines, you stopped when you found the right spot and slid your finger in between the two adjacent books. Making space, you reached for the book on the top of your pile and put it in its home. The rough leather tickled your skin as you ran it down the spine. Once settled, you examined the next book, unaware of the footsteps making their way toward you. “Ie... I -- oof.” You ran into something hard and just barely managed to stop the books in your arm from falling to the ground, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t ---” 

Alhaitham was standing in front of you, eyes glaring at you and destroying whatever words were about to fall out of your mouth. His long, slender hand gripped the stack in your arm so they wouldn’t hit his torso. 

“H-hand --” you blubber out, he raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry!” Panicked, you apologized louder than you intended. At the same time, you twisted to the side and backed up so fast you smacked into the bookshelf. Several books teetered at your forceful jostling and came crashing down. Lifted your empty arm to shield your head, you close your eyes in anticipation of being hit. The books landed heavy as they fell to the floor but you didn’t feel any pain. When you opened your eyes, you jumped at the sight. 

Alhaitham’s body towered over yours, his arm was bent, hand balled into a fist and head covering you so the books wouldn’t hit you. You could feel his breath, see the darkness of his lashes, smell him -- you were sure you had a dream like this once before. He opened his eyes, wincing. 

“Archons, are you okay?!” you asked in a worried whisper. Without thinking, you lifted your hand to touch the back of his head. His hair was silky smooth; hair hypothesis confirmed, check. “Alhaitham, I’m so sorry.” you apologized, retracting your hand as he stood up to his full height. He rubbed the spot you touched making you feel even more terrible. You bit the inside of your cheek and lowered your head in shame. “I’ll pay for your check-up.” 

“What reason would you need to do that?” 

“B-because I got you hurt, its the least I could to ...” you explained. 

He examined his hand as if to check for blood and seemed satisfied to find none, “Healthcare in Sumeru is free,” he replied pointedly. In your state you completely forgot. It only made you more embarrassed. 

“... right.” You tried to play it off with a laugh but it came out strange, like you’d never laughed before. Archons, just let me die, you pleaded. “Anyway, I’m sure I was in your way. Let me clean up this mess so you can go on about your day.” 

“Did I say you were in my way?” he asked, watching you bend down to pick up the books that fell. 

“Well, no. I guess you didn’t, but ...” you shook your head as you placed book after book on your already heavy pile. Alhaitham’s feet moved out of view which made you happy and sad at the same time. You wanted to talk to him, wanted to hold his attention, but not like this. Should you say goodbye to him or ---? “Oh - um...” 

Alhaitham reappeared next to you, his hand reaching for the same book you were. You followed him as he stood up and placed the book back in its place and, without saying anything, he extended his hand down to you. Realizing he was asking for one of the books, you gave it too him and soon the two of you had the isle cleaned up. 

“Thank you. First you save me from the books, then helping me put them back. What did I do to deserve such a kindness,” you marveled, not waiting for a reply. “Anyway, I’ll be on my way.” With a small nod, you walked past him but didn’t make it very far. 

“Most people are wary of interacting with me,” he began, forcing you to turn back to look at him. His comment seemed so sudden, your expression doing little to hide the fact. “I’ve been told I am difficult to get along with. It is not in my interest to change what others think of me,” he looked at you and you pulled the books you still had closer to your chest. “Being social is not one of life's necessities. That is what I believe at least,” he took a step toward you and you took one back. The action made him pause. He looked to the left, jaw clenching for a second before his gaze returned to you. “I’ll occasionally go to the tavern for a drink after work.” He finished and you let the information digest. “Well then.” He turned and you were left speechless. 

Just as he was about to round the corner, you took several steps toward him, “Was that -” he twisted to look back at you, “are you inviting me to join you ...?” 

He smiled. The corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk, “Was that not obvious?” he answered before disappearing around the bookshelf and leaving you alone to feel the pressure of every author staring at you while you slowly combusted in the isle. 

You had liked him for so long. Had wracked your brain trying to find the best way to talk to him. All you ever managed was quick phrases and helpful recommendations when he was searching for something. 

You were sure he was the type of person to never show interest in anything other than his work or his books so ... why you? why all of a sudden?? what magical thing did you do to get his attention and how - how in the world were you going to keep it?? 

some things are better left unsaid, right?? 

--

diluc

You smiled politely to the customer before they turned and left the store. Their eyes gazing at the small bag you handed them moments ago. Whatever they would use that stone encrusted bracelet for, you weren’t sure, but it would look lovely nevertheless.  

Carefully, you started reorganized the jewelry in the case. No matter how diligent you were, there was no escaping messing up the display stands as you reached for ones further in. With a heavy sigh, you knelt down and pulled out the displays one by one. A container of rings placed at your side, a ornate necklace with a ruby balancing on top. Your hand passed over the felted shelf to remove the dust bunnies accumulating there. You were practically inside the large case when the door chime rang out. 

“One moment,” you maneuvered your arm to wave at the guest, to show them you were just on the other side. They didn’t say anything but you didn’t mind, you were cursing under your breath enough for the both of you. “... just go back ...” you huffed, finally placing the rings back in their proper place. With a click of the wooden door, you lifted yourself up only to have your heart leap out of your throat. “Welcome in, how can --” 

Diluc Ragnvindr was standing on the other side of the glass case. His eyes fixated on you - more than they ever had before. You felt faint. He pulled up his glove, scanning the case in front of him. 

Say something --- by the archons, say anything ... 

“H-Hello, Mr. Ragnvindr. How can I h-help you today?” shaking your head at how much you stumbled over your own words, you tried to put on a pleasant smile. When he glanced at you, you gripped the edge of the glass case for support. 

“Afternoon,” he began and you tried your best to listen without screaming. “I am looking for a gift.” 

“Ah- Well ...” you bit the inside of your lip, tilted your head, “If you’ll allow me some questions, I can find the best piece for you?” He nodded, once, and you set out to assist him. “All of our pieces are suitable for anyone. We take great care in making each and every one of them-” 

“Do you make these?” 

The question caught you off guard. Quickly, you shook your head, “Not all of them. I typically make the larger works, like these,” you pointed at a set of radiant broaches in the case over. They glittered in the light and made you happy to look at. “I’m building my skill to make finer jewelry like the rings, necklace pendants and the like.” You wanted to ramble on about your craft but forced yourself to stop. Diluc wasn’t interested in your work, he was here for a ... a gift. “Anyway, so, does this person prefer necklaces, rings, a bracelet?” 

“I’m unsure,” he glanced at you. Instinctually you swallowed and looked away. 

“Okay, well what color do they most often wear ...” 

The two of you went back and forth for a spell. You asking questions, pulling out pieces that he might enjoy and him giving his opinion, though it was very minimal. You did your best to be encouraging, helpful, even offering to wear a few of them so he could see what they would look like. It had been a while but, surprisingly no one interrupted you. 

This was certainly the longest conversation you’d ever had with Diluc. Most of the time, you managed to ask, “how are you today, Mr. Ragnvindr?” or “Do keep yourself safe on your travels,” with a soft smile and gentle wave. It was all you could do to keep your muscles contained - otherwise they’d move wildly about in your excitement. Your friends tried to strike up more in-depth conversations but you chickened out every time - cowered.  But right now it seemed easier to talk to him when you knew what to say without thinking. Jewelry was one of those things you loved. Helping people find the best piece was like a puzzle, a riddle no one else could solve. It was fun, and you were having fun helping him. 

“So, are we any closer to your perfect gift?” you asked with lightness in your voice. He rubbed his chin and shook his head. “It can be tough to decide. There’s no rush,” you smiled, a small chuckle floating from your throat. “What’s the occasion anyway, perhaps that will help us decide?” 

“Ah--” Diluc dropped his hand and cleared his throat. Confused, you took notice of his expression only to find his cheeks flush pink as he cleared his throat again. 

“... an anniversary ... maybe?” your throat felt tight at the realization. Of course he’d be here for something like this. A gift for his lover -- you heard rumors about him being with someone but it hurt to know it was true. He opened his mouth to speak but you couldn't bare to hear his answer, “If that’s the case,” you pressed on, praying your eyes would hold themselves together, “perhaps a paired piece would be best. You know, something the both of you could wear to let others know that -- um --” you blinked, bit your lip again and shook off the bubbling turmoil rising in your chest. “So sorry,” you held up your hand and reached for a cup of water on the back counter. With a large gulp, you pushed a lump back down into your chest. “So, does that sound good?” You finished, recomposed -- kinda. 

“That will do nicely.” 

“Excellent, then let me --” 

“May I ask for a paired broach set?” He pointed toward the broaches you hadn’t even pulled out. “Something practical would be best. Would it take long to make two pieces?” He looked back at you and you clumsily placed your glass on the counter. 

“N-No, It just depends on what they look like. Are you sure you want -- I mean, let me get my notebook.” You fought against your better judgement to persuade him toward something else. It wasn’t your place to question a customer; even if that customer wanted something you made to place on another. You were here to help him pick the best piece for his ... you had a job to-do. 

After several minutes of discussion, you had a sketch of the pieces and materials identified for each one. In his, a carnelian stone set in the middle, its reddish-orange hues certain to mimic the shine of his hair in the mid-day sun. While in his partners would hold a sunstone surrounded by golden filigree. Both would be able to rest nicely around the wearers neck, with, or without a tie. 

“These will take me about a week, is that alright?” you asked, jotting down more notes in your notebook. 

“I will return in a week then.” 

“Okay.” The two of you exchanged pleasantries. A bow from you, a nod from him, and after some unusual reluctance, he bid you well before leaving the store. You raced after him, locking the door so you could take a moment to let the tears you held back fall free.  

--

A week later and the brooches were done. They were some of your most beautiful work - considering the love you had for the owner, it wasn’t surprising that these pieces would be filled with your affection. 

When the day came, you couldn’t muster the strength to be there. Of course you wanted to see him, but there was no way you’d make it this time. Not in the exchange and the permanent knowing that he loved someone else. So, you asked your coworker to cover for you while you wandered around your house, depressed. 

-- 

A few days later you returned home after a long day. Today was your everything day, a day where you had to run from store to store to gather your weekly necessities, where you had to tend to yourself completely, and still work at the end of it all. You were exhausted, and just wanted to fall into bed. 

Luckily, you still hadn’t seen the owner of Diluc’s paired broach - you wouldn’t be able to handle it if you did. At least you could live one more day in blissful ignorance. 

You approached your apartment door. The small shelf of plants greeting you as you pushed the key into the doorknob. You were about to pass through when something caught your attention. Placed carefully behind one of the pots was a box, one you’d never seen before and one you certainly didn’t place there yourself. Shifting the items in your right hand to your left, you grabbed the box and brought everything inside. 

Kicking off your shoes, you rushed to the island counter in your kitchen. The bags fell over, an apple rolled to the floor, but you didn’t care. Quickly, you turned on the light so you could see the box in your hand. Your keys jingled as they slide down your finger, dangling on their metal ring so you could reach for the lid and pull it away. 

When you saw the goldened broach resting perfectly in the box, you crumbled to the floor. The sunstone glittered, the delicate designs that encased it brought tears to your eyes. “Why are you ...?” In the lid was a folded piece of paper that you practically ripped open to read: 

-- Diluc Ragnvindr

I apologize that I could not give this to you earlier. When you find this, I hope the message finds you well and ... conveys my intentions. If, however, they are unclear, I will explain myself further if you are free and would join me for dinner? 

Ill be waiting

Your heart was pounding, hands trembling as you reached for the broach in the box. Tears flooded your eyes as you searched for the clock in your apartment. 7:00pm -- was there enough time?? 

You didn’t wait, didn’t change, barely remembered to put your shoes on. The world was moving so fast and you were desperately trying to keep up. 

With tears drifting behind you as you ran, you prayed you weren’t too late as Angel’s Share came into view and you gripped the brooch tightly against your chest. 

some things are better left unsaid screaming from the heart

--

xiao

Xiao made it clear he didn’t want to be part of the human world. You knew that, knew he was selective in who he appeared before, who he shared his moments with. It was enough that you got to see him on the rare occasion you were spending an evening at Wangshu Inn. Most of the time you were passing by on your travels. If you had a spare moment, you’d head to the top to check in on him - unsure if he’d be there or not - while other times you swore you saw a shadow on the balcony looking down at you. Thought it was your wistful thinking he would be able to see you all the way down here - liking someone sure created powerful delusions. 

It didn’t matter if you liked him though. Xiao was a Yaksha, a protector of the land, immortal, and you were ... well none of those things. It was better to save yourself the embarrassment and him the discomfort. So you kept your love for him a secret. It was just better that way. 

--

“Thank you, I’ll make sure it gets there safely,” you professed to the inn owner with a small bow. She seemed pleased at your commitment and bowed with an equally pleasant smile. With swiftness, you turned on your heels and made your way to the elevator. The parcel fit nicely into your backpack, which you slung over your shoulder with ease. You waited patiently for the elevator to reach you and instinctually looked up at the balcony where the vigilant yaksha often stood. 

The creaking wood settled and you took several steps forward, keeping your eyes locked on the red-railed balcony. Suddenly, you were falling forward and you realized you had timed the elevator wrong. It still had several feet before reaching you. Shouting, you put your hands out to brace your fall when a gust of wind wrapped you up and set you on your feet. Your eyes were shut tight until cool hands touched your shoulders. 

Startled, you peeled them open and saw Xiao standing in front of you. He looked the same as always, if not a little worried. “Be careful,” he explained, holding you until you found your footing. The elevator finally came to a stop on the top floor, before long it began its decent.

“I’m sorry - I wasn’t looking,” Xiao didn’t say anything which you were glad of. If it were anyone else they might have scolded you but Xiao wasn’t like that. “Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed anyway. He let you go, moving several paces back to give you room. Your heart was pounding, but that wasn’t anything new when you were near him. He always managed to to set your body racing. 

“You’re here again,” he said, matter-of-factly. 

“Y-yeah. I had a delivery for Smile and h-he told me Verr Goldet had a p-package. Excuse me,” you coughed, swallowing to help ease your nerves. Adrenaline was rushing through your body so you did your best to shake it off. 

“Are you unwell?” 

“N-No, just recovering,” you chuckled, flashing a reassuring smile his way as you shook out your leg. He didn’t say anything else the whole way down which gave you plenty of time to return to as normal as possible. “Well, see you,” you said, waving to him on the elevator as you made your way down to the road. It was going to be a long walk back to the harbor but you didn’t mind. You enjoyed the walk - except when your path was blocked by bandits or hilichurls. 

You adjusted the pack on your back and began down the path when a gust of wind rushed past you. Confused, you turned investigate and were shocked to find Xiao walking slightly behind you. 

“X-Xiao?” He looked at you, making you pause. “Did - um - is everything okay?” 

“The road is dangerous. I’ll go with you,” he explained as he walked past you, taking the lead. 

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” you tried to explain, rushing up to meet him, eyes scanning his features and becoming even more smitten by them. Xiao was by far one of the prettiest people you’d ever seen; from his eyes to his lips he was gorgeous. You licked your lips, prying your attention back to the road. “I promise I’m not as weak as I look,” you said, raising your arm to show him your muscles - if one could call them that. He simply huffed and continued to walk beside you.

Xiao wasn’t much of a talker. Even if he was, you wouldn’t know how to strike up a conversation with him. Would he be interested in the things you had to say? What enjoyment could he get in a conversation about mundane human things when he’s seen eons go by. You gripped the straps of your bag and tried not to let your thoughts get the better of you. 

--

The two of you walked in mostly silence. Every once in a while you’d make a comment about the scenery, ask a question about him which he’d give a curt reply to, or none at all. You did your best to stay positive but, before you knew it, the travel was over and you had reached the entrance to Liyue Harbor. 

“Thanks for escorting me, Xiao,” you thanked him, slipping the bag off your back. “Here,” reaching inside, you balanced the bottom of the bag on your leg so you could grab a small, wrapped item. It had broken in transit, but that wouldn’t affect the taste. “I made these this morning. Since I don’t think you want -- or even use -- mora, this is the best thing I can give you as thanks.” You handed the food to him and he took it without protest. “It’s a honey-lavender rice cracker, they are sweet which I know is your preference.” He opened the wrapping and pulled one out that wasn’t split in two. You could still see the indent of the lavender you pressed in the middle. Smiling, you put your bag back on and began to walk further down the hill. “Thanks again, Xiao Xiao,” you chuckled, waving at him from below. 

He didn’t follow you but you weren’t surprised. Xiao didn’t enjoy people so there was no way he’d willingly go into one of the busiest cities with you.

On your way, you passed by a familiar face who was looking at the hill you just descended. 

“Good evening, Zhongli,” you called out and he looked down at you from the top of the bridge. His smile warm, welcoming. 

“Evening,” he replied with a curt bow. You shuffled up to him, stopping just in front and gazing up at his face. He was already so tall but since he was higher on the bridge, he seemed even taller. “Returning from an delivery I see?” 

“Mhmm, just made it back and am on my way to drop off a book from Verr Goldet.” 

“I see,” he rubbed his chin, glancing up the hill before looking down at you, “What about your travel companion?” 

“Travel companion ...?” Confused, you looked back only to realize what he meant, “Oh, Xiao?” He nodded, “He wanted to walk me back to the city. He’s never really done that before but I didn’t want to press him, ya’ know.” 

“I see,” he repeated. After a moment of contemplation, his lips turned up into a smile, eyes glittering in the swaying lights. “It is unlike him to take an interest in the going on of humans. I am pleased to see him warming up to someone such as yourself.” 

“O-Oh, well I don’t think I’m all that special,” you played it off, your hand waving in front of your face. “He’s just being nice ...” your mask began to fade as the words fell from your mouth, “ ... just nice ...” You could feel Zhongli’s eyes on you so you quickly snapped back, “Sorry, Zhongli. I need to get to the book-house before it closes.” You bowed quickly before rushing off further into the city. 

Zhongli was astute so there was no way he didn’t notice how deflated you became. You’d never admit it to him, hell, you hardly admitted to yourself. Why would you? It was much safer to leave those desires of your heart in silence than let them be shared and destroyed in a matter of seconds. No, you’d keep the feelings you had in -- it was better that way. 

-- 

Zhongli watched as you made your way through the bustling harbor. He could feel the sadness wafting off you like mist from crashing waves. Zhongli had lived long enough to know what love looked like in a persons eyes - or how it felt on the wind. 

“Do not give up hope young-ones,” Zhongli hummed, head turning toward the small shadow on the hillside, “revelations may take their course in time. Isn’t that right, Alatus.“ The shadow faded but only after the figure it watched over disappeared from view. “Ah, fresh love,” Zhongli breathed deeply the air of evening waves with a knowing, energetic smile. 

some things are better in their own time