#anyway enjoy!!!! feels good to finish something a bit longer

[mirrortouchedsea]

(CW for Suicidal Ideation)

Hinata’s breath was heavy as he landed the final move of their act. The tinny music playing from their speakers went quiet and the audience clapped politely. It was always the same song and dance as the crowd moved on with their day. A few of them tossed some yen their way but otherwise it was time for them to regroup for their next performance. Yuta knelt down by the hat with some coins and bills sticking out of it, counting their earnings thus far. 

“Hey aniki! We might be able to eat well tonight! There’s like 3,000 yen in here!” Yuta exclaimed. The idea of a filling dinner made Hinata’s mouth water. Oh what he wouldn’t do for even warm noodles not from a cup. 

Hinata turned to grab the iPod from its place on the speaker, choosing the next song to play. He put the phone back and turned the volume up a little more to play over the evening rush. The music started and he and Yuta moved in unison around their little stage, taking in the crowd. There were some regulars that Hinata recognized, the businesswoman who was perpetually tired but always stopped for their performances and a few kids who looked up at them in awe as their parents were trying to usher them away. There were always new faces too, of course people traveled across the country all the time or took new trains or moved cities, but there was something different about the boy with the bright red hair at the back of the crowd. His sky blue eyes pierced straight through to Hinata’s heart and made him stumble when their gaze connected with his own. 

“Hey, aniki focus! We’re almost done, don't fail on me now!” Yuta whispered, carefully shielding Hinata from the crowd as he regained his footing. Yuta was always so quick thinking. Hinata got back to his position and finished up the routine, eyes looking for that boy he had spotted earlier. He half hoped the boy would come talk to them afterwards while they were packing up for the evening, but when he finally saw that shock of red hair, it was moving away with the rest of the crowd. 

Hinata sighed, disappointed. Maybe that boy would come back someday. There was something about him that drew Hinata in. 

Someone bumped his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts. “Hey, aniki, are you alright? You seem out of it today.” Yuta’s hand rested on his shoulder and Hinata couldn’t help but smile. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around, the older brother checking in on the younger one? 

“Hey hey everything’s fine Yuta-kun, don’t worry about me. I was just thinking about that delicious dinner you’re treating us too~” He playfully pushed back on Yuta, the red haired blue eyed boy all but forgotten now. 

“Hey! It’s technically our money so I’m not treating you to anything!” Yuta scowled but the smile in his voice was obvious to Hinata. 

“Hehe, then dinner’s on me! Say ‘thank you aniki!’” 

--- 

It was a week before Hinata saw the red headed boy in their audience again. He had all but slipped his mind, but those striking blue eyes were impossible to forget. Yuta was introducing their next performance which allowed Hinata to take a better look at the older boy who had made his way to the middle of the audience. He was tall and what Hinata could see of his outfit seemed ill-fitting at best, along with a headband holding his hair away from his eyes. 

Hinata scrambled to his position as the music queued up and let his instincts take over. Every so often he found himself glancing at the red haired boy, trying to see what he thought of their performance, but his face revealed nothing. 

Why was he so focused on this one boy? It’s not like they didn’t have strangers who watched them sometimes, and none of them had caught Hinata’s attention quite like this boy. He really couldn’t be much older than Hinata, maybe 17 at the oldest. Was he an older brother too? The boy’s eyes made contact with Hinata’s and it took everything in him to not look away. 

Once again however, Yuta snapped him out of whatever trance he had been in and everything was forgotten. 

“Are you really okay aniki? You’ve been out of it a lot recently…” Oh how it pained Hinata to see the concern on Yuta’s face. Nothing was even really wrong per se, but Hinata was distracted nonetheless. 

“I’m fine, Yuta-kun. Geez, can’t your older brother have some peace?” His mouth ran faster than his brain and he immediately regretted it. Yuta’s face flipped through several emotions; hurt, confusion, exhaustion. It wasn’t like him to hide things from his brother, so why was he doing it now? “Whatever, let’s get some dinner. My treat~” 

“It’s our money!” 

--- 

The boy continued to make appearances at the twins’ performances on the street, becoming something of a regular but disappearing before Hinata could flag him down. Hinata wasn’t even sure what compelled him to want to talk to the older boy, but he wanted to say something. He had even noticed that the boy seemed happier and his clothes fit a little better, not like they were just the first thing he grabbed out of a donation pile. 

Finally, after almost a month of trying to say something to the boy, Hinata saw him walk up to their hat on the ground and drop a few coins into it. 

“Thank you!” He said, walking up to the boy. “Hope you enjoyed the performance!” 

The boy froze as if he wasn’t expecting to be greeted like that. There was a slight flush to his face. “I-it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. You uh…you were great?” The boy seemed unsure of how to reply, though Hinata was happy with the compliment nonetheless. Maybe… 

“What brings you here? I mean--agh, sorry! I just mean…I noticed you don’t have a regular schedule?” The words were practically falling out of his mouth and Hinata wasn’t really sure what they were doing. “Like you show up a few days in a row but then go three weeks without stopping by at all!” He was just digging a bigger grave for himself! Great! 

“Ah uhm…I’m not from around here.” The boy scratched at the back of his neck. Maybe Hinata should back off. 

“O-oh, yeah of course. Duh. Are you visiting family or something?” 

“Not quite. I really should get going though. See you…later?” 

“Yeah, see you later.” 

“Hey Aniki, are you coming or not? The food’s gonna get cold!” 

“Coming!” 

---

It was almost a month before the boy appeared again. In the time between, Hinata had come up with a million different ideas for what his life was like. Was he a delinquent who skipped school to hang out on the street with gangs (how scary! But he looked strong enough to fit in)? Or was he a runaway from a city far away, somewhere Hinata only dreamed of visiting like Okinawa? Maybe he had a bad relationship with his dad and ran away, a thought that Hinata hated to admit had crossed his mind more than once. Or maybe he just passed through the city on the way to somewhere else. That seemed to be the most likely option, especially if he couldn’t come very often. 

When the boy did finally show up again, Hinata had to hold himself back from practically jumping him after the performance. Something looked…different about him though. His eyes seemed more tired? Like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Hinata thought of a fight he had with his dad a few weeks ago that made it hard for him to sleep and thought maybe this boy was the same as him in that regard. 

Hinata decided to wave him down after the performance, hat in hand (they had done pretty well! It felt heavier than normal and even without counting everything, they’d probably have enough for breakfast too). 

“Hey! You look tired, are you--did you want to get something to eat?” Please say yes please say yes please say yes--

The boy’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Did Hinata mess up? Oh he overstepped and now there really wasn’t any chance of getting to know him. Why was he so interested in talking to the boy anyway? Hinata had been asking himself that for a while now and he still had no answer. 

“I…I can’t. I need to go.” The boy turned and ran off before Hinata could ask more. He just kept messing up, didn’t he? Maybe he really was just a burden to Yuta and their dad and the restaurant owner. He shouldn’t have been born and Yuta would’ve been better off--

“Aniki! Sheesh, get your head out of the clouds. How much did we make?” Yuta grabbed the hat out of Hinata’s hand and quickly counted out the coins and bills. “Woah! We could eat a whole five course meal with this…” 

“Think with your head a little Yuta-kun. We’ve got breakfast paid for if we don’t blow it all tonight!” 

Yuta nodded before handing the hat back to Hinata. “So, my pick tonight?” 

--- 

Hinata signed the note, trying his best to keep the tears from dripping on it and smudging the ink. After his blunder with the red haired boy, he hadn’t shown up to their performances for over two months. Hinata was certain that he had messed up and was too forward. He didn’t even know the kid’s name! Why did he think the two of them could ever be friends? 

And on top of all of that, Yuta had become more and more distant from Hinata, as if Hinata just existing was dragging him back from his full potential. Yuta would have been better off as an only child and maybe Hinata deserved this life. Thirteen years living with their father, who had treated them as nothing but monsters, blaming them for their mother’s death and everything bad that had happened since, Hinata had resolved to run away. He’d make his way to the mountains and maybe he’d find someone willing to help him or maybe he’d slip into an endless sleep. 

Dear Yuta-kun, the letter had started. I’m sorry that I’m leaving like this, but I know that I’m just a burden to you. I’m sorry for that. I wish I had more to say but I just want you to be happy and maybe father will treat you better without me. I love you. 

The other letter, already folded and placed on the table, was much shorter, addressed to his father. 

Dear Father, I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better son. Please don’t take this out on Yuta-kun, it was my decision. 

The less words he spent on that man, the better. Hinata folded Yuta’s note and placed it on top before quietly exiting through the front door. 

---

Everything was cold. Hinata slumped against a tree, head between his knees in a last ditch effort to keep warm. Sleep should come soon and he could painlessly move on, at least that’s what he hoped. He barely registered someone approaching him, but didn’t look up. 

“Hey.” The voice was vaguely familiar, but where did he remember it from? A warm hand shook at Hinata’s shoulder. 

“‘M fine.” The words were barely a whisper. The other voice grunted before walking away. It was another minute before Hinata felt something drape around his shoulders and a cup shoved in his hand. Whatever was in it was steaming, warming his fingers. 

“Drink.” The voice said. And he did, the tea was very, very bitter. That voice… 

Hinata looked up, meeting a pair of bright, sky blue eyes. That’s where he recognized the voice from. Did he…live? In the mountains? The boy seemed to recognize him too. He was wearing a headband and what looked like very warm clothes that Hinata wished he had. Hinata finished the tea, trying not to focus on the flavor. It helped at least, in warming him up a bit. 

“Why are you here?” The boy finally spoke again. It sounded like he was unsure if he should be mad or concerned, or both, but he offered Hinata another cup of tea, which he accepted if only to warm his fingers up. He pulled the blanket closer around his body. 

“I…ran away.” Hinata looked downward, as if admitting this out loud was a cardinal sin. The boy gestured for him to continue. “I guess I just…I was dragging my brother down. I’m not really talented at anything like he is and I’m the reason our dad sees us as monsters. He shouldn’t have to deal with a brother like me.” Hinata wasn’t really sure why he was spilling this so easily. The boy was a good listener though, hanging on every word Hinata spoke. Was he shaking? He’d never admitted this out loud before and it felt oddly freeing to say it to someone. 

He waited for a response, anything to chase away the uncomfortable silence Hinata had created with his confession. He really fucked up, didn’t he. He should have just kept that to himself like he always did instead of burdening a stranger like this! 

“I…” The boy started, barely audible above Hinata’s racing heartbeat. “I’m glad you’re alive.” He sounded unsure of his words. Was he just trying to be nice? Of course he was, how else do you respond to a kid telling you something like this? 

“You don’t have to pretend.” 

“I’m not. When I saw you singing and dancing…I think I realized something--” The boy cut himself off, the suddenness of it making Hinata look up. A moment later he heard his brother calling out from the woods behind him. 

“Aniki! There you are!” Yuta tackled him to the ground, squeezing Hinata like he might just blow away in the wind if they weren’t careful. “You scared me! I can’t believe you’d do something like that!” 

Tears pricked at Hinata’s eyes again. “I’m sorry, Yuta-kun. I’m really sorry.” He buried his face in Yuta’s jacket. His nose started to run, from the cold or the tears he couldn’t tell. 

“You aren’t a burden to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you around Aniki!” Yuta pulled back, hands gripping Hinata’s shoulders. “Promise you won’t do something that stupid again.” 

Hinata wiped the tears from his eyes, sparing a glance where the boy had been. It was as if he had never been there at all and Hinata had just hallucinated the whole interaction. He looked back at his twin brother. “I promise.” 

“Now let's get you home and warmed up. Where’d you get this blanket anyway? It doesn’t look like one of ours.” 

“I…” The boy had been real, and he told Hinata he was glad he was alive (even if his explanation was cut short by Hinata’s brother rushing in). “I guess I just found it. There must be people living nearby or something.” 

--- 

The chatter of the night club died down for the night as everyone was getting ready to go home. Hinata’s feet were sore from running around, but it was satisfying to be back in a restaurant like this. It reminded him of his childhood working for the Chinese restaurant with Yuta. 

Rinne, the leader of Crazy:B who had wanted to get closer to Hinata, and by extension 2wink, slid a drink down the bar. It looked like a horrible mix of syrups and club soda, but one sip was all it took for Hinata to drink it all down. 

“Great job tonight Hina! You’re a real natural at this stuff.” Rinne was washing the other glasses behind the bar now as Hinata finished the rest of his soda. 

“Yuta-kun and I used to work in a restaurant so it comes pretty naturally to us!” 

“That so?” 

“Mhm!” Hinata slid the empty glass back to Rinne, who quickly dumped the ice and washed it before tossing the towel over his shoulder. The entire week they’d been working the club together, there had been something bugging Hinata at the back of his mind. “Hey, Rinne-senpai…did you ever watch our shows?” 

“Huh? ‘Course I have, vice prez wants us to work together so I’ve seen a few of ‘em.” 

“That’s not what I mean. I mean like…back when Yuta-kun and I did street performances.” 

Rinne paused for a moment. “Why’re you askin’?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing. You just reminded me of someone who used to watch them.” 

“Well I’m sure whoever it was is proud to see you singin’ and dancin’ on stage.” Rinne had come around the bar and stood next to Hinata, ruffling his hair. “Let’s get goin’ or I’m never gonna hear the end of it from Niki-kun.” 

[the-trailblaze]

Marks

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: yes I’m back again… anyways this is about Dante being mad about how his healing ability prevents him from being marked by you. I also put my hc of him wearing you scrunchie in this. No actual smut but it’s implied, aftercare, jealous Dante, also wholesome Dante <333

You let out a “umph” once you feel a heavy weight fall on top of you. You look down to see your white haired boyfriend breathing relatively normally especially after just pounding into you for most of the night.

Leave it to Dante to be all over you the second he’s back from a mission. Not that you mind it at all, you actually love it. But you don’t have the endurance he does because you’re not half demon.

You’re trying to catch your breath after the many highs he just gave you but it’s quite hard with him lying on top of you.

You try to push him off of you, “Danteee.”

Dante grunts, “What, want another round?”

You roll your eyes at his response. “I think you will break me if we go for another round. I need you to get off of me, you’re really heavy.”

“Oh shit my bad.” Dante pushes himself off of you and hovers over you then looks you up and down, “Hey beautiful.”

You giggle at his antics and reach your hands up to run them through his hair, “Hi handsome.”

“Wanna wash up or cuddle for a bit longer?”

“Wash up, I feel gross. But, you’re going to have to carry me. I can’t feel my legs…again.”

“I love it when you say that,” he smirks while going to stand up. You roll your eyes again and he lets out a deep laugh.

Dante leans down and whispers, “Wrap your arms around my neck.” You do as he says and he goes to grab the back of your thighs. He hoists you up and wraps your legs around his waist.

While he carries you to the bathroom you lean your head on his firm chest. You love being close to Dante no matter the context. His warmth is something you’ll never get over.

Once you’re in the bathroom he sets you down on the sink and goes to start the shower. He sets everything out so each task will have a smooth transition.

It warms your heart to see because he puts so much effort into this. Before you started dating him, he just went through the days not really caring. But now he seems to enjoy every day.

Dante catches you staring and asks, “Whatcha thinking about?”

“You,” you say firmly but giving him a light smile.

Dante freezes for a second then walks over to you and cages you between his arms, “Oh? I like the sound of that.”

You lean your forehead on his shoulder, “I bet you do. Is the shower ready? I’m getting sleepy.”

“Yeah it is. Up again you go princess.”

He carries you to the shower and gets in. He slowly sets you down being extra careful. Once you’re on your feet your legs feel like jelly. He really did good work tonight.

But that doesn’t help you from almost slipping. You hold tightly onto Dante trying to stay upright. He is quick to wrap his arm around your waist and hold you against him.

He leans down and whispers deeply in your ear, “I got you.”

Your heart races and stomach fills with butterflies after the comment. He can really just make your legs weak with a comment too.

You two stand like that for a minute until you feel confident enough to stand on your own. Once you do you push yourself away from Dante and grab his shampoo.

You put some on your hand then go to wash his hair. As you scrub his shampoo into his hair he lets out a deep groan. You smile to yourself happy he feels relaxes and calm.

You tell him to wash it out while you grab a wash cloth and put his body wash on it. Once he’s done rinsing his hair you scrub down his body. You do this multiple times. Not just to get off the remanence from your night together but to get off all the stuff that came back with him from his mission.

Once you’re finished washing him it’s your turn. He starts with your hair doing your shampoo and conditioner. Then moves on to washing your body.

This takes longer because he loves touching every inch of you. He starts by your collarbone and you wince a little. He didn’t react so he must haven’t heard it.

He moves down to your hips where he brushes over your right side and you wince louder and bend over a little bit.

Dante panics, “Shit! Are you okay!?”

“Yeah, that just hurt a bit. It did too when you were by my collarbones too.”

Dante steps back and looks at your collarbones and hips. He seems hickeys all over your neck and collarbones then bruises on your hips.

He laughs sheepishly. “I think I might have went a little overboard with the marking tonight…” he runs a hand through his wet hair.

“It’s fine, I like it when you leave marks. Just be gentle when you wash those areas.”

Dante nods the tenderly washes your body. He’s super focused to make sure he doesn’t hurt you again. He even has his tongue sticking out, cute.

Once he’s done you rinse off and get out of the shower. You two dry off but Dante finishes super quick. He walks over to the mirror and looks at himself. He looks at his back and neck.

You chalk it up to him just wanting to look at his muscles. You walk out of the bathroom and go to your closet to grab your pajamas. You end up just grabbing one of Dante’s shirts.

Once you’re done putting it on you look at the mirror in your closet and see your neck and collarbones. They are littered with hickeys from Dante. It makes a warmth go to your core thinking about how he marks you.

Through the mirror you see Dante walk into the closet. He gives you a kiss on the top of your head then goes to grab a pair of boxers to sleep in.

You walk out of the closet and go lay on your shared bed. You wait for Dante for a couple of minutes but he hasn’t come to bed yet. What could be doing?

You throw off the covers and walk back into the closet where you see Dante looking at his back again. You walk up behind him and place a hand on his arm.

“Dante does your back hurt? Did you get hurt on your mission?” You question.

Dante spins around and sees you looking concerned. “Oh no I’m fine.”

You stare at him confused, “Then why do you keep looking at your back?”

He mumbles something you can’t make out. You ask him to repeat himself because you couldn’t hear him.

“I hate my healing abilities.” He says without missing a beat. Dante looks you dead in the eye, “Your marks just heal. So I can’t walk around with them.”

You stand in silence for a second then reach for his hand. You drag him out of your shared closet and lead him to your shared bed.

You push him to sit on the end of the bed. He plops down following whatever you want him to do. You raise his chin exposing his neck to you.

You go right for his pulse point and pull his skin between your teeth. You lightly bite his skin then suck. Dante’s hands dart for your waist and holds them tight.

He groans once he feels you starting to suck even harder, “Sweetheart, I thought you said you couldn’t go for another round.” You ignore his comment focusing on what you’re doing.

You stop sucking his skin and run your tongue over the area. You lean back and look at what you just did. You see the hickey on his pulse point but after about 10 seconds it goes away.

You frown realizing that what Dante said is true. You can’t mark him like he can mark you. It makes you a bit sad but you could never hate his healing ability.

You run your thumb over his pulse point then grab his chin again. You make him face you so he can hear what you have to say.

“You were right. You just heal right away. I do feel bad that I can’t mark you like you can mark me. I like the feeling of being marked by you and walking around for people to see. I never knew it bothered you that you couldn’t so I’m sorry for not noticing.”

You see Dante open his mouth to refute but you place a finger on lips to tell him to keep listening.

“But I could never hate your healing ability because it was keeps you coming home. You fight powerful and scary demons that hurt you. If you didn’t have that ability you would have had so many broken bones and have bled out many times. Which means we wouldn’t have been able to get together.”

You run your hands through his hair again to ground yourself, “My biggest fear is you not coming home. That you died on a mission and I’ll never get to see you again. That I’ll never get to hear your laugh, see your smile, eat pizza and ice cream with you, have you make love to me, or even just have you in my arms. I am so happy you have your healing ability because it keeps you here with me. I love you Dante and I don’t want this to upset you anymore.”

You let out a little sigh after you finish and Dante just stares at you. His grip tightens on your waist and before you know it you’re falling. Your forehead then collides with his hard chest.

Dante lays a hand on the back of your head and just holds you close. You don’t dare to say anything because you don’t want to push him to say something. You’ll let him go at his own pace.

Dante calls your name lightly, “You know I’ll always come home to you right. No matter how strong and dangerous a fight may get, I’ll always fight my hardest so I can come back to you. I need to come back to you. I can’t give this up. Now that you put that perspective of my healing ability in my mind, I won’t ever complain about it again.”

He lets out a deep sigh, “It’s just I got a little jealous I can’t walk around with the marks you make. I know I would make it everyone business but I’m content with everything. The most important thing is that I have you at the end of the day. So I’m happy. I love you so much.”

You snuggle into Dante and hold him tightly, “I’m happy too. But how about we find a way to have me always with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“We find something that ‘marks’ you. So it reminds you of me and other people can tell it’s from me.”

Dante spins you around and hovers over you again. He looks like an excited puppy looking down at you. His eyes are shining with excitement, “Really!? Do you mean it!?”

“Yes handsome I mean it.”

“Okay so what will it be??”

You think for a second about what you can do to “mark” him. You look around the room and see something on your night stand. You shift under him and grab it.

You smile back up at him, “You wrist please.”

Dante balances himself on his left wrist and hold his right one out. You slide on your scrunchie onto his wrist. After you put it on Dante stares at it in amazement.

You speak up, “It’s the best idea I could come up with at the moment. We can always think of something bigger later.”

“No.”

You’re puzzled by his reaction not knowing what to say back.

“I like this. I don’t want something else.”

“Dante are you sure? If you give me some time I bet I could find something better.”

“Nothing will be better than this.” He thinks for a second, “Unless it’s naked photo of you.” He states.

You smack his shoulder and his lets out another deep laugh. “But seriously I’m happy with this. It reminds me of when my mom gave me my necklace. Now I have something I can wear from the two most important women in my life.”

You grab his face with both of your hands and drag him down to connect your lips with his. The kiss is passionate and slow. Your noses brush against each other and you two follow the flow of the kiss.

Needing air you break the kiss and look at him and state with such love and care, “I love you Dante.”

He quickly responds with, “I love you more.”

[clockwayswrites]

Birdrezzzzzzzzzzzz..... Part 31(?)

masterpost I tried to give this a read over, but so exhausted. It's an awkwardly cut little bit anyways, but hopefully you all enjoy the birb.

Bruce cleared his throat and carded his fingers through Danny’s wing after the towel. “If your wings stay around, we’ll have to look into producing an artificial waterproofing substance for them. I can’t imagine that it would do you any good to be walking around Gotham with damp wings.”

The thought made Danny want to hunch in on himself. “I don’t think I want to walk around Gotham with wings at all.”

“If they stay, you can’t just hide away from the world,” Bruce said.

Danny sighed and rubbed at his face. “I’d like to say I can, but I think that might turn into an argument and I don’t really have the energy for that today.”

“Maybe a little bit of an argument, but only for your own sake. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide away like that because of who you are.”

It was more what he was, wasn’t it? But Danny felt that might end up in a bit of an argument also. And maybe it was wrong. Even if he was no longer ‘Phantom’ as a hero, Phantom was still part of his identity. Eventually it would be his only identity.

“Sadly, not everyone is as accepting of oddities as you and your family, even if things are better now with the more public nature of Metas.”

“I know that not everywhere is there yet, but I would hope that at least WE is somewhere accepting.” Bruce’s frown was obvious in his voice. “If it isn’t, then that’s something that I’ll have to work on.”

“I’m sure you could just sick Lucius on them. He’s not the type to put up with it either.”

“He really isn’t—or any sort of intolerance like that. If it comes to you going to work with your wings out, promise that you will at least talk to one of us if someone is any sort of an issue. At that point it isn’t just about you, that’s not the sort of person we would want at WE,” Bruce said.

Danny gave a little hum.

“Danny.”

“I promise, I promise,” Danny said with a little wave of his hand. “I know there are a lot of people who work to make WE a good place, and I wouldn’t do anything to sabotage that. As embarrassing as it would be, I’m old enough I can deal with taking the hit if it makes things safer for someone else.”

“You are hardly old, Danny.”

“Old enough, though. And secure enough in my job there. If Lucius hasn’t fired me yet I’m pretty sure that I’m good,” Danny replied. “Besides you have to know what I mean. There’s a point where a lot of little things that used to mater don’t anymore.”

“No, I know. I think that most of that was less about age and more about my horde of children.”

“It’s not even ten and you’re already besmirching our good name?”

“Good morning, Tim,” Bruce said.

“Good morning, Tim,” Danny echoed. “And no besmirching going on right now. We’re just lamenting being old.”

“Oh, yeah, that must suck,” Tim said around a wide yawn.

Danny didn’t try to hide his laugh. It may have been quite a number of years since he was one himself, but teenagers always would be teenagers.

“I’d apologizes for him,” Bruce said as he folded the towel he had been using. “But, well…”

“Kids,” Danny finished with a little shrug. “Don’t worry, you have a good flock.”

“Are we doing bird puns now?” Duke asked as he came into the kitchen with Damian on his heels and Cass to his side. “Someone will have to tell Dick.”

“Or perhaps we preserve our sanity and not mention it to Grayson,” Damian said. “Good morning, Dr. Fenton. I trust you rested well?”

“Just Danny is fine, Damian, and I did, yes. I actually feel a lot better today than I have recently.”

Damian gave a nod. “Then you must stay for a few days so that you can recover fully.”

“Damian…”

“He is not wrong,” Cass said. She dropped a kiss to the top of Danny’s head and then Bruce’s cheek as she passed.

“They really aren’t,” Bruce agreed after a beat, “and you’re perfectly welcome here.”

Danny resisted the urge to chew on his lip. He had rested incredibly well and it would let him keep an eye on Tim and Damian. There was also just something… nice about sitting there at a table as it filled up with other people and their chatter.

“Just a few days,” Danny agreed.

Just a few days was enough.

It would have to be.

[sukiyurii]

she wants me

(sevika x fem!reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns for reader, praise, fingering, cunnilingus, softdom!sevika, sub!reader, bottom!reader, exhibitionism? not beta/proof read!) men, minors dni

your painfully annoying ex-boyfriend shows up to cause problems. sevika shows him exactly what he lost.

Your ex was persistent. Like… persistent– to the point of it being utterly overbearing. Your shabby apartment was no longer a safe place to stay at, as he would randomly show up at any and all odd hours he could find. Thus, one of your closest friends, Sevika, has offered you temporary relief in her own home.

Your friendship began almost three years ago when you began serving at The Last Drop, her attention was immediately drawn to how disgustingly nice you were. While she brushed off your kind words and attempts at friendship initially, she grew fond of you over time.

Presently, It’s been almost two months since you and your ex-boyfriend broke up. The man was absolutely obsessed with you. He was a manipulative, ugly, greedy little sump-rat who refused to leave you alone. While Sevika had no issues with putting him into the ground for his constant awful behavior, you and your tender heart continued to tell her off. 

In an attempt to pull you out of your own festering anxieties, Sevika drags you out to The Last Drop, trying to brighten your mood from the traumatic relationship. 

Now, you’re sitting next to her as she deals out the stack of playing cards to the men at the circular table. You’re dressed in some torn tights, small shorts, a cropped vest with a tattered t-shirt beneath it, accompanied by chunky boots. One leg is crossed over the other as you silently nurse your drink, peeking over at Sevika’s cards. You had never been someone who enjoys cards much, and playing against Sevika would’ve been a losing game anyway. 

There are never really any good nights in Zaun, there’s always the underlying anxiety of ‘maybe today is the day we all get raided and killed.’ So, tonight is going just about as well as it could, realistically. Sevika is winning (as per usual) and you feel slightly at peace, grateful for the fact that she had drawn you out of your blanket-filled cocoon inside of her house. 

Another deck is shuffled out, more shots are thrown back, and you finally feel a little less tense. Not drunk– it was never something you particularly enjoyed, but it was enough for you to drop your shoulders from your ears and slump back against the booth. 

“My little good luck charm, hm?” She mumbles, smirking at you as she rifles through the coins that were begrudgingly slid over to her. You roll your eyes playfully in retaliation, smiling softly and finishing off the last little bit of your drink.

She leans down to press her full lips to your neck, grinning as you gasp. She keeps her strong arm around you as she places a few more chaste kisses, finalizing her ministrations with a sharp nip to the edge of your jaw. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your head.

You move your eyes from her, to the table, and then to the crowd, absorbing the scene of Zaun’s nightlife growing. In the group of bodies dancing and bustling you spot the very last thing you wanted to see: Your ex-boyfriend. Staring directly at you. 

“Sev,” you gasp quietly, which immediately snatches her attention. She looks at you first, then follows your gaze over to the crowd– immediately landing on him. Her face twists into a deep snarl as she catches his gaze.

She slams her cards down and abruptly stands up, “Everyone, out!” she growls. In return, several patrons immediately scurry out, and the rest sit in fear. “I said go, now!” she adds, which eventually forces the rest of them out. 

Quick minutes pass by and you’re left stuck in the bar with Sevika and your ex. “Sevika, can we please just leave,” you huff out, standing up next to her. 

“Sit your ass back down,” she hisses, pushing your shoulder gently. Rather than arguing with her as you normally would, you concede this time. You huff out annoyedly before plopping back down, knocking your boot against the base of the table.

She steps over you, placing a large hand on the back of your head as she does so— a fleeting, comforting touch. “Sev, seriously,” you repeat irritably, reaching for the tail of her cloak. She swats your hand away before silently moving forward, slowly treading towards the man in the center of the room. 

“What do you want?” She snaps, crossing her arms over her chest as she stops in front of him. She stands over him, forcing him to crane his head up if he wants a half decent look at her.

Puffing his chest out, he responds with a short, “I just wanna talk to her,” and nods towards you. Irritation flares in your chest at his words and Sevika scoffs bitterly. “She doesn’t wanna talk. You dense?” she mocks back, sending you a brief glance.

“I think we should just go,” you say, attempting to dismiss the situation before it gets out of hand. She raises a hand at you, a silent gesture to stop talking before you make her mood even worse. 

You quickly snap your jaw shut, huffing in defeat as she reverts her attention back to the fuming man less than fifteen from you. The very same man who nearly ruined your life for two, excruciatingly long years. You clench your jaw and train your gaze on the seemingly very interesting scotch glass in front of you.

You drum your nails against the table anxiously, overhearing a “fuck you, she’s a stupid sleazy whore anyway,” from the skrunkly-faced man. This causes her to seethe, and you barely register the movement before her metal claws are wrapped tightly around his throat.

“She’s a what?” She questions nastily, pulling him in. “She’s nothing but a piece of ass,” he tacks on, attempting to keep up the tough bravado he is rapidly losing. As her grip tightens, he attempts to stammer out an apology but all she does is shake her head and pout mockingly at him.

The words settle harshly in your chest, causing you to shift in the booth uncomfortably. 

She flings his body to the ground, stepping on his back to keep his body pressed into hard flooring. She crouches down unevenly and leans in next to his ear, “you’re better off keeping your mouth shut for the rest of the night.” She hisses, lifting her foot off of him.

And the poor, unbelievably stupid man opens his mouth again. “I’m surprised you still keep her around. She’s grown boring— dry.” He spits out venomously.

You snap your head over towards them, feeling the shame morph into a different form of anger. You watch Sevika narrow her eyes at him before she scoffs bitterly and raises her foot up again. This time, her foot meets his jaw, and you hear a crack, and the yelp he lets out.

She straightens herself back up and rolls out her neck and shoulders, smirking down at his tattered form. She turns back towards your startled and half-ass trembling form, and her face softens into something more tender. 

The man attempts to push himself back up, but she quickly turns around and swipes his hands from beneath him, causing him to crash back into the ground.

“Stay the fuck down.” She says, punctuating her sentence with another jab to his ribs. He shakes beneath her cruel eyes, giving her a sheepish nod.

You really shouldn’t feel the familiar heat pool between your legs while you watch her, but it’s so hard when she just looks so fucking good. All big muscles, broad shoulders, scarred and tanned skin. She’s like a walking goddess— one you would dutifully worship if given the chance to.

She walks back towards you and reaches over to grab the still half-full glass of hers on the table. She knocks it back quickly and clears her throat after, finally looking back down at you.

“You okay, baby?” She inquires sweetly, tilting your chin up with the side of her index finger. 

You nod in response, still shocked into silence as you watched the scene unfold.

“You don’t believe him, do you?” She asks you, stroking her thumb over the bridge of your nose, and then over your cheekbone. You look away shamefully, knowing that you shouldn’t, but you can’t help the guilty pit that forms in your stomach.

“Oh, pretty girl— you truly don’t see how wrong he is?” She asks, giving you a sympathetic look.

“No, I— it’s not that,” you attempt to stammer out, but it’s hard when she’s looking down at you, almost predatorily. 

She picks up on your growing arousal— the flushed skin and barely dampened hairline. “Would you stand up for me, sweet thing?” She requests, tugging on the collar of your shirt gently. 

You nod immediately and stand up at her request, wrapping your fingers around her fleshed forearm. She guides you out of the seat of the booth and stops you in front of her.

You can see him writhing in pain, occasionally groaning, but he is far too scared to attempt to actually get up. 

“You know, I do remember the little imbecile calling you boring and dry. But something is telling me that his claim is very wrong.” She states, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip as she licks over her own.

“I think that the sump-rat just doesn’t know how to take care of a girl properly,” she says, staring him down as she slides her fleshy hand from your jaw, down to the collar of your shirt again.

“It's such a shame too, y’know? He had such a beautiful little thing to cherish, touch… all of it. Couldn’t even manage to do that, huh?” She coos, trailing her metal claws up the back of your thigh, feeling it snag against your tights. 

You gasp as she purposefully drags her hand up, effectively tearing them. “Sevika—” you stutter, but you’re quickly cut off as her thick lips press against yours. 

“Mmpf—” you moan, eyes widening in shock. Once you adjust to the feeling, you close your eyes and  grip onto her biceps firmly, rolling your hips into hers.

She nips roughly at your bottom lip, skating her hand up to grab a handful of your ass as she walks the both of you backwards. You make a confused noise but follow her regardless, making sweet little noises against her hot mouth. 

You whimper as she turns you over and presses your chest onto the hardwood table, giving him a perfect view of both of you.

“What—” you make a confused sound, but the question is answered when her hands begin to work on the buckle of your studded belt. She leans forward and you feel as her breasts press into your back, “This okay?” She asks, stilling her hands on your hips as she waits for a response.

You nod eagerly, bracing yourself up on your forearms. “Yeah, I’m good,” you reply, taking a second to catch your breath. 

“Yeah, you feelin’ good?” she teases, pressing her lips to your neck roughly. She suckles harshly on your skin before nipping at it, sliding one of her hands beneath the waistband of your shorts. 

She teases her fingers over your clit teasingly, rubbing circles over the bundle of nerves. Your mouth drops open as you moan, grateful as you’re finally able to get some relief.

“Yeah, that’s it. Make those pretty little sounds for me,” she demands from over your shoulder, sinking her teeth into the side of your neck. The action forces you to cry out and grind yourself against her hand. 

Your attention is caught by your ex-boyfriend, still battered and bruised on the ground. He growls and spits out a protest as he watches the debauchery play out.

“Did he ever make you feel like this?” She asks, pulling her hand away from your clit so that she can shove your shorts down to your mid-thigh. 

“Answer me, baby,” she says lowly, giving you a light spank to your ass. “No, no, he didn’t,” you stammer out, gasping as you feel her metal claws dig into the meat of your ass.

“That’s right, isn’t it? But here you are, all soaked through your tights and panties.” She murmurs, moving both hands to the center of the sheen fabric. 

“I really hope you don’t like these,” she comments. And before you can protest— she tears the fabric apart, causing you to gasp and shiver simultaneously. 

Her fingers hook into the side of your panties as she yanks those down as well, rolling all of the fabric to your thighs. “Well aren’t you pretty,” she says, sliding her fingers through your folds again. You flush in embarrassment as she practically devours you with her eyes. 

“Oh, fuck— Sevika,” you whimper, clawing at the edge of the table. “This all for me?” She asks smugly, rubbing her fingers against your sensitive bud again. 

“Mhm– ahh,” you moan loudly, trying to gain more friction against her hand.

She slides a thick finger into you, grinning wolfishly as you release a wanton whine. She curls her fingers, slowly pushing them in and out of you. Her fingertips brush against the overly-sensitive and gummy walls inside of you. You nearly choke on your own voice as it feels like a live-wire is shooting through you.

“You had all of this ass and a sweet pussy to play with. But you wanted to act like a selfish, bigoted little rat and lose it all, didn’t you?” She mocks him, narrowing her eyes at him as her fingers work inside of you. 

It’s painful for him, honestly. To watch one of the most beautiful women to ever grace Zaun’s presence get laid out by her best friend over a table. It’s humiliating for him, but exhilarating for the both of you.

"Isn't she pretty?" She asks, gently raking her claws through your hair.

"Tell her she's pretty." She commands, sneering at him as he stutters.

"Yes, she's— she's pretty," he stutters, averting his gaze back to the floor.

You finally get your revenge, and she finally gets to do the things she has spent the past few years dreaming about. 

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers, c’mon, doll," she mumbles, sliding a second finger into you. Her mechanical hand presses into your lower back as she presses her fingers into you faster– harder. 

You moan and writhe against the table, doing exactly as she says. The wet sounds coming from between your soft thighs are unfamiliar, something you have so rarely experienced. (Much less from anyone else.)

“F-Fuck, fuck, Sevika,” you cry out, throwing your ass back against her large hand. She licks over her bottom lip as she watches you hungrily. She kicks your legs apart, pushing her fingers further inside of you. 

“She ever sound like this for you?” She sneers at him, chuckling darkly at the scowl that etches onto his face.

She pulls her fingers out of you and murmurs soft apologies at your incessant whining. “One second, sweet girl,” she says, slowly lowering herself onto her knees. 

She kisses along your ass cheeks and the backs of your thighs on her way down, wrapping her hands around the fronts of your thighs. She pulls you back onto her warm, eager mouth and moans once she gets her tongue on you. 

She laps at you feverishly, digging her nails into your thighs as she holds you against her firmly. With your back arched and cheeked smushed against the table, you become the spitting image of arousal and lust.

She wraps her thick lips around your clit and sucks harshly, determined to bring you over the edge with her mouth. 

Her moans vibrate against you and heighten the already intense pleasure. “Mmf— I’m gonna, ha,” you gasp. You feel her nod against you, a silent encouragement. 

You nearly scream out in pleasure as your vision blanks out and a white heat surges from between your legs, and up your body. Quiet sobs wrack through you as the orgasm washes over you, wave after wave, and your thighs begin to tremble. 

You reach back with a weak hand to push her away from you, continuing to suck in shaky breaths.

“‘Vika, please,” you beg, and she finally lets up. She presses a final sloppy kiss to your pussy and then back up your thighs.

She wraps an arm around your front and hauls you back, holding you against her. With you almost all the way up, she tilts your head towards her with her tanned hand and presses a wet kiss to your mouth. 

Her metal arm holds you up as she gently pries your mouth open with her tongue, shoving your slick into your mouth. You moan at the taste and the feeling, reaching back to tangle your fingers through her hair. 

She pulls away and looks back at him, “I hope you learned something from this. Now get the fuck out,” she snaps meanly, keeping your face in place. 

The trembling man scrambles up and ushers out of the bar, leaving the two of you in a long-awaited peace.

“You feeling alright?��� she asks, gently thumbing over one of your nipples. You nod tiredly, “yeah, ‘m okay,” you mumble, biting your bottom lip softly. 

“Good, because you’re not sleeping tonight,” she replies, pressing another firm kiss to your lips.

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[haniette]

familiar stranger. // ln4

pairing | lando norris x fem!reader

genre | fluff, lots of angst, situationship au, suggestive !! (but no real smut scenes), hurt-comfort

word count | 9.7k

warnings | no use of y/n, suggestive in some moments, hot making-out scene, no description of smut scene, body shaming, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, crying, cursing, heartbreak, pet names (angel), lots of tension, pinning.

inspired by: kenya grace — strangers, chappel roan — casual

summary: once, they were caught in a messy situationship—passion without promises, love without labels—until life turned them into strangers. when their paths cross again, old sparks reignite, and buried emotions rush back. but it isn't as perfect as one can imagine.

a/n: hii how are youuuuu <3 hope you're all doing alright :) dropping off this real quick before getting back to finishing one long work for you guys hehe~

The wedding was full of people, sparkling dresses, clinking glasses, and soft laughter. But even in the sea of guests, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider here. 

This was supposed to be a celebration. A chance to enjoy the happy moments of other people’s lives. But there you were, half-heartedly smiling and nodding through conversations, just going through the motions, your mind not quite here. Your fingers absently traced the engagement ring on your finger as your eyes scanned the room.

Eric, your fiancé, had insisted you come, mostly to help him fill out the social circles and be his shoulder candy, but your heart wasn’t in it. The familiar comfort of your daily routine felt like a faraway dream as the buzz of the wedding slowly settled into a heavy weight on your chest. 

You hadn’t wanted to attend it, but you’d gone anyway, playing the part of the dutiful fiancée. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were running from something. Or maybe, someone.

You stepped outside for a moment of fresh air, hoping to clear your head. The cool night air wrapped around you like a quiet blanket, and you leaned against the stone wall, taking a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside. 

For a moment, the quiet felt good. But then, you heard it—the familiar laughter, playful and carefree. It wrapped around you like a warm, but painful memory. You didn’t need to look to know whom it belonged to, but you did anyway.

Lando. He stood there, leaning casually against a pillar, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the faintest trace of a smirk on his lips. The curls that you once loved to run your fingers through now framed his face like they were meant to be there, a bit longer than they used to be. His jaw was sharper, more defined, the boyish softness you remembered now replaced with the quiet intensity of a man who had seen more of the world, who had grown into himself. 

But his eyes—those beautiful aquamarine eyes—were the same. And in that moment, it felt like nothing had changed. It felt like no time had passed at all like you were back to being that girl who had laughed with him, who had shared late-night kisses in his car, whose heart had once been his. And for a moment, you wondered if he could still feel the pull of the past like you did. 

You stood frozen, just staring at him, trying to process what was happening. You hadn’t prepared for this. You didn’t even know if you wanted to see him, but there he was—Lando, in the flesh, as if he’d never left. 

The moment stretched out, as though the world around you had stilled, your heartbeat louder than any sound in the room. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his gaze met yours. 

His lips parted in recognition, the faintest flicker of surprise in his expression, followed by something darker, something deeper. There was a hint of disbelief in his eyes as he excused himself from the group he was talking to, and took a step toward you. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if unsure if he should approach if the moment was real.

You swallowed, trying to find your voice. The words were tangled in your chest, caught between a thousand emotions—anger, longing, regret. 

“Lando…” You said, your voice quiet, a little hoarse, as if saying his name alone carried more weight than you could bear.

His smile was hesitant at first, but it quickly softened, and there it was—that familiar tenderness, that same boyish warmth that had once made you feel like the only person in the world. 

“Hey,” He said softly, his voice a quiet murmur that made your pulse quicken. “It’s really good to see you.” His gaze lingered on you for a heartbeat too long, and you felt yourself drowning in that look, in everything that had been and could never be again.

You swallowed hard, trying to hold your composure, but it was hard—so hard. “It’s been a while.” You managed, your words coming out shakier than you’d intended.

“Yeah,” He said, his voice low, almost regretful, “A while.”

The air between you was thick, charged with years of unspoken things. The questions you never asked, the things you never got the chance to say. The tension hung there, like a fragile thread ready to snap, and neither of you seemed ready to pull on it.

And then, as if the universe were reminding you of the life you’d built since then, you heard the soft call of Eric’s voice. “Darling?”

You turned your head, your heart dropping just a little as you saw him—your fiancé, his hand reaching for your waist, pulling you toward him effortlessly. His touch was steady, but in that moment, it felt like a stark contrast to the warmth Lando had once given you. You pulled yourself together, even though every part of you wanted to stay in that moment forever.

Eric’s arm slipped around your waist. “Everything okay out here?” He asked, his voice light like the situation was nothing more than a casual break from the festivities.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just needed some air.” You turned back toward Lando, not sure how to handle the sudden intrusion of your present with the ghost of your past standing in front of you.

Lando’s gaze shifted toward Eric, his expression hardening for a brief moment before he composed himself, offering a polite but distant smile. You could tell it wasn’t easy for him, even though he tried to hide it. His eyes never quite left you, though.

Eric glanced at Lando, clearly sizing him up. “This is Eric, my fiancé.” You said softly, biting the inner of your cheek nervously. Eric extended a hand, still with that easygoing grin. “Nice to meet you, man.”

Lando hesitated for a fraction of a second, then took Eric’s hand, his grip firm but distant, his eyes flicking to you before quickly returning to Eric. “Likewise.” He said, his voice neutral, yet you could feel the undertones beneath it. It wasn’t nice for him to meet Eric.

An uncomfortable silence stretched for a beat before you felt the weight of the moment. You cleared your throat, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. You hadn’t thought about what to say next, but the words that came out felt strange, a little too forced.

“This is Lando,” You began, your voice faltering slightly as you introduced him. “An old... friend.”

The words tasted foreign like they didn’t belong in your mouth. Old friend. It felt like a betrayal, a lie as if you were reducing everything that had once been between you—so real and vivid to nothing more than a passing acquaintance.

Lando’s stomach twisted at the nickname, a small flicker of something dark crossing his face. An old friend. It stung more than he expected, cutting deeper than he cared to admit. You had made him a stranger in your life. A ghost. And now, standing there, he realized how much he regretted letting that happen. His jaw tightened, but he forced a smile, nodding at the label you had assigned him.

“Yeah,” Lando replied quietly, looking down for just a second, a small breath escaping him. “Old friend.”

There was something in the way he said it—soft, almost too soft—that made your heart ache. It was like hearing the echo of something that used to matter, something that had once been everything to both of you, now reduced to a polite formality.

Eric didn’t seem to notice the undercurrent of discomfort. He laughed lightly, giving Lando a friendly clap on the back. “It’s good to meet you, Lando. Big fan of yours.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.” Lando sent him a weak smile, trying to be polite but knowing him well, you immediately noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes. 

You could see the tension in Lando’s shoulders, the subtle way his eyes flickered back toward you—like he wanted to say something, anything, to break the uncomfortable silence that had settled between the three of you. But instead, he took a small step back.

“Uh… yeah— You know, I think I should probably head back inside,” Lando said, his voice strained, though he tried to mask it with casualness. “Good to see you again.”

You nodded, but it felt like your whole body was screaming for him to stay, for him to not disappear, again. 

“I’ll see you around.” You said, but your voice didn’t quite match the words.

Lando gave a small smile, though his eyes were distant. “Take care.” He said softly before turning to walk away. 

His movements were slow, as though each step toward the door was one he didn’t want to take. But he did it anyway, vanishing into the crowd with that same quiet intensity that had always surrounded him.

You stood there, rooted in place, as Eric wrapped his arm around you, leading you back into the reception. The words felt hollow in your ears. You could feel Lando’s absence once again, like a physical ache. You wanted to look back, but you didn’t. 

You didn’t want to watch him walk away for the second time in your life.

The weight of it all—the years, the distance, the things both of you hadn’t said, the way he’d slipped from your grasp—hung heavy between your ribs. And when you glanced down at the engagement ring on your finger, it suddenly felt colder and heavier than it ever had before.

And in that moment, you realized that maybe you were still waiting for him to come back and say it wasn’t over. That you two weren’t complete strangers, after all.

────୨ৎ────

The soft buzz of conversation and laughter filtered through the ballroom doors, the music pulsing in the background, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go back in. The cool night air was a balm to your racing nerves, but you still felt the weight of everything that had happened earlier. Everything that had been said without being said.

You stepped out onto the balcony, the chill of the evening air brushing against your skin as you leaned on the stone railing, gazing out at the dimly lit garden below. 

Your thoughts were a tangled mess, but there was one memory that stood out more than the others, one that seemed to pull you in with magnetic force. 

The night when everything had shifted. 

The office lights flickered faintly in the early evening haze, a reflection of the weariness that clung to your every step. The hum of your boss’s voice, sharp and unrelenting, still echoed in your mind as you descended the stairs, your bag heavy on your shoulder. Outside, the cool air was a slight reprieve, but it did little to lighten the weight you felt. 

Then, you saw it—his car, sleek and familiar, waiting at the curb, just as always.

Lando stood leaning against the driver's door, one hand casually in his pocket, the other scrolling through his phone. The sight of him alone was a breath of fresh air. He had his cap put backwards as he had it in his liking.

When he noticed you, his expression softened into a smile—a warm, genuine gesture that made the corners of your frustration ease ever so slightly.

You approached, trying to push aside the tension of the day. “Hi Lan.” You greeted, giving him a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Hi Angel, I missed you.” Lando replied, his voice low and calm, as if his only goal was to soothe you. Then he opened the door for you, and helped you get into the passenger's seat. In a second, he was already sitting in the car next to you, fastening his seatbelt. 

Then he looked at you and tilted his head, studying you. “Rough day?” Lando asked, glancing at you as he started the car. His voice was soft, unhurried, but there was a note of concern in it.

“More like a nightmare,” You muttered, rubbing your temples. “My boss was insufferable. I’m starting to think she gets a bonus every time she ruins someone’s day.”

Lando chuckled, but his eyes flicked toward you briefly, his brows knitting together as he took in your slumped posture. “Should I have a word with her?” He teased, but the warmth in his tone and the second meaning of his offer softened the edge.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t think you’re her type.” You replied, meeting his eyes.

“Her loss.” He shrugged, his voice light, and you couldn’t help but laugh out and shake your head. But his gaze lingered on you a moment longer as he drove to your apartment. 

When he parked by your building, it was already late, the moon shining brightly in the sky. Lando looked at you for a second, and then he reached over to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was impossibly soft, his fingers lingering against your cheek for just a beat too long. 

That was when it started—when the space between you seemed to shrink.

You could feel your heart pounding, the air between you charged with something unspoken. And when you looked at him, you didn’t mean to lean closer, but before you could second-guess yourself, his lips were already on yours.

The kiss was soft at first—gentle, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then something broke loose between you, a flood of suppressed longing that had been building for far too long. His hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips moved against yours, deeper now, hungrier.

The world outside the car ceased to exist. There were no cars passing, no city sounds—just the heat between you both, the soft sounds of your breaths mingling. 

His kiss was intoxicating, his lips moving with a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart. When his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. You let out a small, involuntary whimper, and he groaned in response, the sound low and guttural. 

“Come here, Angel.” He murmured against your lips, his voice husky and low. 

His hands were on your waist now, guiding you as you shifted, moving closer to him. Before you knew it, you were straddling his lap, your knees pressing into the leather seat as your arms wrapped around his neck. The new position brought a fresh wave of intensity, the closeness making every touch, every kiss, more electrifying.

His hands roamed your body, his touch firm yet reverent, as if he was memorizing every curve of your body. His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, brushing against your hot, bare skin, and the sensation sent a jolt of heat through you. His lips left yours to trail wet kisses along your jawline, then down to your neck. Each kiss was deliberate, slow, and full of intention, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

“Lan…” You breathed, your voice barely audible, but the way his name left your lips made his grip on you tighten.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” He murmured against your skin, his breath warm and ragged. His lips hovered near your collarbone, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on your hips. “Or do you want me to continue, Angel?”

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his. There was vulnerability there, a question lingering in the depths of his aquamarine eyes. You didn’t answer with words; instead, you cupped his face in your hands and kissed him with everything you had into that one moment. 

That was all the confirmation he needed. His hands slid lower, gripping your ass as he shifted, adjusting the angle so he could kiss you even deeper. 

The hunger between you grew, the kiss turning into a frantic clash of lips and teeth and tongues. His hands explored your body, and you reveled in the way he touched you, the way he made you feel seen, desired, cherished.

The cramped space of the car only heightened the intensity, the intimacy of it all. When his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pushing it up slowly, you shivered at the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin. He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of hesitation. But you didn’t stop him. You wanted this—you wanted him.

His lips returned to yours, and the kiss turned heated, passionate, as if the world were about to end and this was the only moment that mattered. 

His hands roamed freely now, exploring every inch of you, and you responded in kind, your fingers slipping under his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin. 

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.” He muttered against your lips, his voice rough with need.

“Then show me, Lan.” You whispered, your fingers threading through his curls. 

He groaned again, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he ground you against him, the friction sending sparks shooting through your veins. “Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

His lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before sucking lightly, just enough to leave a mark. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, your head falling back as a soft moan escaped you. Your nails dug into his shoulders as his hands slid beneath your skirt, his touch scorching against the bare skin of your thighs. 

“You’re perfect,” He murmured, his lips trailing down your collarbone. “So fucking perfect.”

You were trembling now, the tension building with every touch, every whispered word. When his fingers dipped lower, you gasped. Uncontrollably, your head fell against his shoulder as the sensations overwhelmed you. 

“Lan, please.” You whimpered, your voice desperate now and he didn’t make you wait. 

His fingers worked their magic, and you felt yourself unraveling, your body arching against him as waves of pleasure washed over you. He watched you the whole time, his eyes dark and hooded, his lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

The air in the car grew thick, the windows fogging up as the two of you moved together, the heat building until it was almost unbearable. You lost track of time, of place, of everything except him—his touch, his breath, the way he made you feel. 

Finally, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you, and the world outside the car felt like a distant memory. The rain had started to fall, pattering softly against the windows, but inside, everything was warm and electric. 

As you still sat together in the front seat—your head resting in the crook of his neck with his hands drawing small, soothing circles on your back—you felt a strange sense of calm wash over you. The rhythmic sound of his breathing was a strange comfort, grounding you in a moment that felt entirely surreal. The silence wasn’t awkward; it was filled with the weight of what had just transpired. 

For the first time in a long time, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

But as the stillness settled, reality began to creep back in. The bubble you had created in that car couldn’t last forever. 

When morning came, everything was different. Lando had to leave for another Grand Prix weekend, and you kissed him goodbye with the promise of staying in touch like you always did. But then the texts from him stopped coming. Days passed without a word. The silence between you stretched further until it became a canyon between you both.

You waited for him to call, to text, to say something, anything. But the silence remained.

A few days later, the pictures surfaced—him with another woman, smiling as she was clinging to him, kissing his neck. Your heart shattered, being left with nothing else than the feeling of unfairness, confusion, but also pain and frustration. 

When you decided to reach out, trying to make sense of everything, his reply came too late—cold and distant, almost as if he had never cared. It was then that you realized: he was gone. Just like that. Lando had slipped away like a shadow, leaving behind only the ache of unspoken words, the regret of never having said what you truly felt. 

You hadn’t realized how much you’d let yourself hope, how much you’d wanted him to be different. 

Blocking his number felt like cutting off a limb, but it was the only way to protect yourself. Even now, as the memory played in your mind like a film on repeat, you couldn’t shake the ache that lingered. The way you had been reduced to nothing more than a forgotten memory, just another girl in the blur of his life.

Now, sitting on that balcony at the wedding, the memory hit you with full force, each detail as vivid as the day it happened. You closed your eyes for a moment, the sounds of the wedding celebration muffling in the distance. 

The cool air felt too warm now like it was holding all the memories you couldn’t shake. The warmth of his touch, the depth of his kisses, the weight of his body against yours. And the pain of losing him—of watching him walk away like you meant nothing. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the tears to stay hidden. But it was useless. Lando had been more than a fling, and it was nothing new. He had been a part of you, and that part was still aching.

After taking a deep breath and fixing your hair, you decided to go back into the ballroom, putting the mask of indifference back on your face. After all, it was just a party with your fiancé and lots of strangers. And one, familiar stranger.

────୨ৎ────

Lando stood by the wall, watching you from across the ballroom, your laughter cutting through the noise. It was like the space between the two of you had become something physical, something he could touch—a barrier he couldn’t cross no matter how badly he wanted to. His hands clenched at his sides as he tried to compose himself, to make sense of everything that was swirling inside him.

The weight of the moment crushed him from all angles. Seeing you with Eric, with that easy smile and the way his hand rested on your waist, it felt like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t jealous. Not exactly. He just… he couldn’t help but think of what he’d thrown away, what he could’ve had. What he should’ve had.

Lando’s eyes traced the engagement ring on your finger, gleaming in the light. A symbol of a future you had built—one that didn’t involve him, not anymore. His stomach twisted in a knot, the sight of it suddenly suffocating him. The feeling was like he was choking on his own guilt, the weight of every wrong decision he had made crashing down on him.

He remembered the night he had been with you, so vividly, so painfully. The way you had kissed him, pulled him in like you had always wanted this, like you had always wanted him. It had been reckless, wild, and hot, but it had felt right. And then… then he had been the one to ruin it.

He had never meant to hurt you. He never wanted to walk away from you, but somewhere in that whirlwind of emotions, of confusion, he had let his ego get in the way. 

The night you had spent together, the way you had laughed in each other’s arms, felt like it had been stolen from him. It should’ve been something that he held onto, something that pulled him back to you, but instead, he let his pride get the best of him.

That night after the Grand Prix, when he had seen the pictures, when the headlines screamed about him with another girl, it hit him harder than anything ever had. He had been drunk, so out of it, he hadn’t even realized the way the world would spin it. Some nosy people in the club had snapped pictures before either of them knew what was going on, and in that moment of complete foolishness, Lando had let it all slip away. He had been too embarrassed to even reach out to you, to try and fix the mess he had made. He had been too much of a coward.

The regret wasn’t immediate. At first, he tried to brush it off, convincing himself that it was just a mistake and that he could just forget it. He had to keep up appearances. But the more the days went by, the more he replayed that night in his mind, the more he felt the weight of what he had lost.

The truth was, the second he saw you looking at him with that painful distance, the second you pulled away without a word, he knew. He knew he had ruined everything. And the worst part was that he didn’t even dare to try and fix it. He didn’t text you. He didn’t try to explain. He just let you slip away like you were another girl in the blur of his life.

Now, seeing you here, seeing you with Eric—the man who was there for you, who had held you when you cried, who had shared your joys and your pain—it felt like salt on an open wound. He had taken that for granted, assumed that you would always be there, that he could always come back to you. But he had been wrong, so wrong. And the pain of realizing that now was almost too much to bear.

What made it worse was the quiet ache in his chest when he thought of what could’ve been. He could’ve been the one to hold your hand on this night. He could’ve been the one to put that engagement ring on your finger. He could’ve been the one you trusted, the one who stayed beside you. He could’ve been the one you looked at with that adoring, soft smile, the one who promised you forever. 

Instead, he had let his selfishness win, and now he was nothing.

He hated himself for it. He hated himself for every second he didn’t try harder, for every moment he could’ve reached out and didn’t. He was standing here, watching you, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to be the one to claim you, the one to fight for you. But he wasn’t. Eric was. 

And now it was too late, wasn’t it?

The truth of it crushed him, and he felt like an absolute fool. “How could I have been so stupid?” He thought, raking a hand through his hair, unable to shake the feeling of shame that flooded through him. He had watched you move on without him, and all he could do was stand in the corner, a mere spectator of the life he had so carelessly let go.

He remembered everything about you. The way you laughed, the way your eyes would light up when you were excited, the way your body felt pressed against his in the quiet moments, the soft whispers you’d share in the dark. It was like his heart couldn’t stop mourning the loss, mourning the future that had been so easily tossed aside.

His fists clenched as his eyes flicked back to you. You looked so beautiful, so radiant. The years hadn’t taken that from you. You had grown and blossomed into someone even more incredible than he remembered. But the realization hit him harder than anything else—you didn’t need him anymore. You had moved on. You had found someone who could give you everything he never could. And now, he was just a stranger in your world, a shadow of the man he used to be in your eyes.

The tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision for a moment. The weight of his mistakes threatened to drown him, and for the first time, he allowed himself to feel it all—the regret, the longing, the ache of knowing he had let you slip away. It was like watching the best part of his life walk out of his reach, and all he could do was stand there, powerless, as the person he loved disappeared forever. 

The pain of knowing it was too late was unbearable. He had let you go when he should have held you close, should have fought for you with everything he had. But now… now, you were with Eric. And Lando knew, with a sickening finality, that he would never get the chance to be the one who made you his.

And that thought alone broke him.

Lando stood frozen near the edge of the ballroom, his drink long forgotten in his hand, as he watched you from across the room. You were laughing at something someone from the group you talked to had said, your head tilted back. It was the smile that used to belong to him. A smile he hadn’t realized how much he loved until it was too late.

The ache in his chest grew sharper with every passing second. He wanted to move, to say something, anything, but his feet felt like they were rooted to the ground. All he could do was watch you, knowing he didn’t belong in your world anymore. 

You turned toward Eric, your hand brushing against his arm as you said something softly, something Lando couldn’t hear. Eric looked at you, his hand sliding to the small of your back in a gesture so intimate, so natural, that it sent a dagger straight through Lando’s heart.

It could have been him. It should have been him.

Eric leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple, and Lando had to look away, the pain too much to bear. He clenched his jaw, blinking rapidly as the sharp sting of tears burned his eyes again. He didn’t cry. Not ever. But tonight, standing here, watching you with someone else, he felt like he might break.

The music changed, a slower song filling the room, and couples began to drift toward the dance floor. Lando’s eyes flicked back to you just as Eric took your hand, leading you toward the center of the room. You followed him with ease, your laughter spilling over as he twirled you playfully before pulling you into his arms. The two of you moved together, swaying in perfect rhythm, and Lando couldn’t look away.

He imagined himself in Eric’s place—holding you close, feeling your warmth against him, whispering secrets only the two of you could share. He imagined the life you could’ve had together, the nights spent tangled in each other’s arms, the mornings filled with quiet kisses and sleepy smiles. He imagined being the one to give you everything you deserved.

But that was all it was now—imagination. A dream that would never come true.

As the song ended and the crowd applauded, you turned toward Eric, your face glowing with happiness. And that’s when Lando knew—knew in a way that hit him like a freight train—that he had lost you. Not just for tonight, not just for a moment, but for good.

He stood there, rooted in place, as you and Eric made your way toward the exit, hand in hand. The sight of you walking away was almost too much to bear. He wanted to call out to you, to say something, to tell you everything he should have said years ago. But the words caught in his throat, and he could only watch as the distance between you grew.

As you reached the door, you glanced back for a brief second. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, he saw it—the flicker of something different, something that felt like a quiet goodbye, but also... fear? And then you turned away, disappearing through the doorway with Eric by your side.

Lando stayed where he was, staring at the space where you had been. The weight of his regret was suffocating, crushing him with the force of everything he had lost. The sound of the party faded into the background, the laughter and music drowned out by the echo of his thoughts.

It was over. He had let you go, and now there was no getting you back.

He stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air biting at his skin as he leaned against the railing. The stars above were impossibly bright, mocking him with their beauty. He let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping the cold stone as he tried to steady himself. But the ache in his chest refused to go away.

Lando closed his eyes, letting the pain wash over him. He had made his choice, and now he had to live with it. But as he stood there, alone under the stars, he couldn’t help but wish—just for a moment—that he could go back. That he could rewrite the story, change the ending, and be the man you deserved.

But life didn’t work that way. And as the night stretched on, Lando knew he would carry this regret with him forever.

────୨ৎ────

The drive home was thick with tension, the air between you and Eric heavy with unspoken words. Rain poured relentlessly against the car, the sound filling the silence that Eric refused to break.

You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, your hands resting in your lap as you stared at the blurry city lights outside the window. You tried to ignore the knot in your stomach, the lingering warmth of Lando’s presence a stark contrast to the icy atmosphere now suffocating you.

The wedding replayed in your mind—the glowing bride and groom, the joyous laughter, the dance floor alive with celebration. It should’ve been a night of happiness, a night that made you feel excited for your upcoming wedding. But instead, it had left you hollow, drowning in doubts you could no longer ignore.

Eric’s fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he navigated the slick roads. His jaw was set, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his body screamed louder than any words.

“I think it was a beautiful ceremony.” You said softly, trying to break the silence, but Eric didn’t respond. You hesitated, then tried again. “The food was amazing too. The cake—”

“You didn’t need any more cake.” He said abruptly, his voice cold and cutting.

The words hit you like a physical blow, stealing the breath from your lungs. You blinked, stunned, your mind scrambling to process what he’d just said. “What?” You whispered, your voice barely audible.

He finally glanced at you, his expression hard. “You heard me,” He said flatly. “You were already piling your plate up. Did you really need another slice? You’ll get fat if you eat this much.”

Your heart sank, the hurt flooding through you like a tidal wave. You hadn’t even eaten much—you’d been too nervous, too distracted by the night’s events and your own swirling thoughts. But his words cut deeper than the surface, touching on insecurities you’d tried so hard to bury.

“I wasn’t...” You trailed off, your voice trembling. “I wasn’t overeating. I just—”

“Don’t make excuses,” He snapped, his tone dismissive. “It’s not a good look.”

Tears stung your eyes, but you turned your head toward the window, unwilling to let him see you break. The rain outside mirrored the storm inside you, the sound of it hitting the car drowning out the sharp ache in your chest.

When Eric pulled into the parking lot of your building, he didn’t wait for you. He just turned off the car, grabbed the umbrella, and stepped out without a word. 

The rain was still coming down in sheets, soaking through your dress the moment you stepped outside. You struggled with your heels on the slippery pavement, nearly losing your footing as you hurried after him. He didn’t bother to slow down or offer a hand.

The final insult came when you saw him standing under the building’s awning, perfectly dry under the umbrella. He glanced at you once, his expression blank, then turned and walked inside without waiting for you.

You stumbled as you reached the door, the heel of your shoe catching on the wet ground. Your heart clenched as you caught yourself on the handle, the pain of his indifference sharper than the physical discomfort.

By the time you reached the apartment, your dress clung to your skin, your hair was plastered to your face, and your makeup smudged. Eric didn’t say a word as you closed the door behind you, the sound echoing in the tense silence.

“I’m going to change.” You murmured, your voice small.

Eric didn’t look at you. “Do whatever you want,” He muttered, kicking his shoes off before heading toward the kitchen. “I don’t care.”

You paused, your heart pounding as you watched him pour himself a glass of water. His movements were precise and controlled, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling within you.

“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this, Eric,” You said, your voice trembling. “What did I do wrong?”

Eric set the glass down with more force than necessary, the sound making you flinch. He turned to you, his eyes narrowing. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” You asked, frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface.

“I can’t believe you embarrassed me like that!” He snapped, his voice sharp and cutting. You stood by the counter, your fingers clutching its edge as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded. 

“What? I didn’t embarrass you, Eric,” You said, your voice shaking but firm. “I was just… talking to someone.”

“Talking to someone,” He repeated with a harsh laugh, turning on his heel to glare at you. “You mean Lando fucking Norris. The same guy you couldn’t take your eyes off all night. Do you even realize how pathetic that looked? My fiancée, giggling like a schoolgirl with some ex-flame in front of everyone we know.”

Your heart twisted at his words, the venom in his tone striking a nerve. “It wasn’t like that,” You said, your voice trembling. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“You don’t think it’s wrong to make me look like an idiot?” He shot back. “To stand there, laughing and smiling with him like I don’t even exist?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Eric, this isn’t about Lando,” You said carefully. “This is about us. About how you’ve been treating me.”

“Treating you?” His eyes widened in mock disbelief. “Are you serious right now? After everything I’ve done for you—everything I’ve sacrificed—you’re going to sit there and act like I’m the bad guy?”

“I’m not trying to make you the bad guy,” You said, your voice rising with frustration. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel. But you never listen, Eric. You don’t even care how your words affect me.”

“Oh, here we go,” He sneered, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Poor you. Always the victim. Always so sensitive.”

The words hit you like a slap, and your vision blurred with unshed tears. “This isn’t about being sensitive,” You said, your voice breaking. “It’s about respect. And you stopped respecting me a long time ago.”

Eric scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable. Do you think this is easy for me? You think I don’t feel anything when we fight like this? I’m trying my best, but apparently, that’s never good enough for you.”

You stared at him, his words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. “Eric, this isn’t about effort. It’s about how you make me feel. And right now, I feel small. I feel worthless.”

His expression darkened, and he took a step closer. “Oh, so now I’m the reason you’re unhappy?” He said, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s rich. You were a mess when I met you. A complete wreck. I’m the one who fixed you, who gave you a life worth living. And this is how you repay me?”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words sinking in like a dagger to your chest. The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, hot and relentless. 

“Fixed me?” You echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. “You think I’d be nothing without you?” Your voice rose, trembling with emotion. “You think you’re the reason I’m standing here right now?”

His silence was deafening. He didn’t deny it. That was the moment it clicked—the realization that shattered whatever was left of your resolve. He didn’t see you as an equal, as someone to love and cherish. He saw you as a project, something he could control and shape into his own version of perfection.

“I’m done,” You said, your voice trembling but resolute. “I’m done letting you talk to me like this. I’m done letting you make me feel like I’m not enough.”

Eric’s expression shifted, panic flickering in his eyes. “Wait,” He said, his tone softening. “You don’t mean that. You’re upset, that’s all. Just—just calm down, okay? We can work this out.”

You shook your head, your tears falling freely now. “No, Eric. We can’t. Because I’ve been trying to ‘work this out’ for months, and all it’s done is break me.”

“Don’t do this,” He said, his voice pleading as he rushed over to you, gripping your wrists tightly. “Please. We’re supposed to get married. We’re supposed to spend our lives together. What about the plans we’ve already made? You can’t just throw that away!”

“Let go of me, Eric,” You hissed, trying to free your hands, “It hurts.”

“No! First you need to answer me.” He shouted, fastening his grip even more, your face twisting in a painful grimace.

“I’m not throwing it away,” You said, “You did that the moment you stopped treating me like someone you loved.” Then you shook your hands abruptly, his hands flying away from your wrists.

Then, you slipped the engagement ring off your finger and placed it on the counter, gently rubbing your wrists, where his hands were gripping on not so long ago.

His face twisted with anger and desperation as you turned and went to the front door. “If you walk out that door, don’t come crawling back to me when you realize no one else is going to put up with you!”

The words stopped you in your tracks, the cruelty of them stealing the breath from your lungs. For a moment, you thought you might collapse under the weight of it all. But then, a quiet voice inside you spoke up—a voice that had been buried for far too long. You deserved better.

Without another word, you turned around and walked to the door, each step feeling like a small victory. The rain hit your skin like ice as you stepped outside, but the storm couldn’t touch the fire burning inside you now.

You didn’t know where you were going or what the future held. But as you walked away from the life you once thought you wanted, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Freedom.

────୨ৎ────

The rain was merciless, soaking through your clothes, and clinging to your skin. You didn’t know where you were going at first, your mind spinning, your body on autopilot. The fight with Eric replayed in a relentless loop in your head—his cruel words, the venom in his voice, his tight grip, the way he’d dismissed you as though you were nothing.

For the first time, it felt like the truth had been laid bare: there was nothing left to fight for. The engagement was over. The fantasy you’d tried to sell yourself had crumbled. And yet, even knowing you had made the right choice, fear lingered in every step you took.

You had nowhere to go. No one to call.

Except him.

The thought stopped you in your tracks, rain dripping from your hair as you stared blankly at the empty street. Lando. His name echoed in your mind like a whispered confession, both a comfort and a torment. 

Was it even a good idea? You hadn’t properly spoken in years, and the when you saw him today, all you’d shared were strained smiles and awkward pleasantries.

But who else could you turn to? You weren’t ready to explain this to anyone—not your family, not your friends. You needed… warmth. Safety. And despite everything that had happened between you and Lando, he was the only person you trusted with your broken pieces.

With shaky breaths, you forced yourself to move, the address to his apartment burned into your memory.

When you reached his door, your heart pounded so loudly it drowned out the sound of the rain. You hesitated, your fist hovering just inches away from the wood. What if he didn’t want to see you? What if this was a mistake? But as you stood there, shivering and drenched, you realized you had no other place to go.

Your knock was weak, barely audible over the downpour, but it was all you could muster. When the door opened, Lando froze, speechless. His eyes widened as he looked at you, but the concern that quickly followed melted the knot in your stomach. You must’ve looked like a mess—drenched, shivering, your face pale and streaked with rain and tears.

“Fucking hell, Angel,” He said softly, his voice warm despite the shock in his eyes. The nickname he used to address you slipped uncontrollably from his lips, bringing back that warm feeling in your stomach. “What happened?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, a sob escaped, and the tears you had tried so hard to hold back began streaming down your face.

“Come in.” Lando murmured, stepping aside to let you in. 

The warmth and coziness of his apartment were a stark contrast to the cold rain outside. The soft glow of the lights wrapped around you, but it wasn’t enough to stop the trembling in your body. Lando took one look at you and made a quick decision.

“Jesus, you’re freezing,” He said gently. “Come on, let’s get you warmed up.”

He led you down the hallway to the bathroom, the soft hum of the heating vent the only sound as he turned on the shower. Steam began to fill the room, fogging the mirror.

“There’s some towels here, and I’ll get you some clothes you can change into,” He said, placing a fresh stack of towels on the counter. “Take as long as you need.”

You nodded, your voice still caught in your throat.

“I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” He added, his gaze steady but filled with worry.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let yourself crumble. The hot water cascaded over you, washing away the cold and the rain but not the ache in your chest. Your sobs echoed in the small bathroom, raw and unrestrained.

Lando never left his place. He sat outside, his back against the door, listening. Every muffled sob that reached his ears made his heart clench. He hated hearing you like this, hated that you were in so much pain. He wanted to fix it, to fix everything, but he knew better than to rush you.

He couldn’t shake off the feeling that this might also be what you had sounded like when he left.

Minutes passed, maybe longer, before the sound of the water stopped. Lando stood up, his hands fidgeting nervously as he waited. When you finally opened the door, wrapped in the towel, he handed you his clothes and you hid in the bathroom again. Once you were done dressing up, you came out in one of his hoodies and a pair of sweats he’d left for you. Your eyes were red and swollen, but there was a faint glimmer of calm.

“Feeling a bit better?” He asked softly, his voice tentative.

You nodded, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. “Thanks.” You whispered, your voice barely audible.

He gestured with his head toward the couch, and you followed him silently. The room felt heavy with unspoken words as you sat down, tucking your legs beneath you. Lando sat beside you, leaving enough space to give you room but close enough that you could feel his presence.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lando asked, his voice low and careful and you nodded. His eyes scanned your face, searching for answers. “Are you okay?”

The concern in his voice nearly broke you. You nodded quickly, playing with the sleeves of his hoodie that was too big for you. 

“I’m fine now. I just— …” You paused, the words sticking in your throat. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

He tilted his head, studying you. “What’s going on? What happened?” his voice was soft and tender.

“It’s complicated.” You whispered, avoiding his gaze.

Lando exhaled, standing up and running a hand through his curls. “Of course it is,” He muttered under his nose, his tone tinged with sarcasm. “It always is with you, isn’t it?”

You flinched, and he immediately softened, his frustration melting into guilt. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” Lando said quickly. “That was uncalled for. I just—” He cut himself off, pacing for a moment before turning back to you. “You, showing up here out of nowhere… it’s a lot to process.”

“I didn’t mean to put this on you,” You said quietly, your voice barely audible. “I just didn’t have anyone else.”

His expression shifted, guilt flickering in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain, Angel.” He replied, sitting down across from you, the unexpected nickname he used only for you made your stomach do a flip. But there was something guarded in his posture, like he was holding back.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Finally, he broke it. “So, what’s the deal? Did the perfect fiancé finally show his true colors?”

Your stomach twisted, and you looked away. “Actually… yeah.”

Lando’s brow furrowed, the sarcasm dropping from his face. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. But there was no point in hiding it anymore. “I broke the engagement,” You admitted, your voice trembling. “I left him, Lando.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable. “You… broke it off?”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes again. “He wasn’t who I thought he was,” You said, your voice shaking. “He… he hurt me. In ways I didn’t even realize until it was too late.”

Lando’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. “Hurt you how?” He asked, his voice low, dangerous.

You didn’t answer, but his eyes drifted to the faint bruise on your wrists, and you saw the moment he pieced it together. His face darkened, his chest rising and falling as he fought to keep his composure.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, his voice breaking slightly.

“Why would I?” You shot back, the bitterness in your tone surprising both of you. “You left. You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Lando flinched, his guilt written all over his face. “I know,” He said softly. “I know I fucked up. But if I had known…” He trailed off, his voice thick with regret. “I would’ve done something. I would’ve—”

“You didn’t,” You interrupted, your voice cracking. “You didn’t do anything, Lando. You just disappeared.”

The silence that followed was deafening. He looked at you, his eyes filled with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to untangle them. “You’re right,” He uttered finally. “I was a coward. I thought I was protecting you by staying away, but I was only protecting myself.”

You let out a shaky breath, your hands trembling in your lap. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” You admitted. “I just… I needed to feel safe. And for some reason, you’re the only person who makes me feel that way.”

Lando’s gaze softened, and the silence between you stretched like a chasm. You looked down at your hands, still trembling despite the warmth of Lando’s hoodie wrapped around you. The storm outside mirrored the one brewing inside—chaotic, relentless, and impossible to ignore.

“You’re safe here, Angel.” Lando had said. His voice was steady, but the tension in his body betrayed his emotions. You wanted to believe him. But after everything… could you?

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the room, filling the space between you. 

Finally, you broke the silence. “Why did you leave?” Your voice was quiet but laced with a sharp edge. “I know we weren’t together, but.. we did you leave?”

Lando’s shoulders stiffened. “I thought we have already covered this…” He said, a hint of frustration creeping into his tone.

“No, we haven’t.” You shook your head, your gaze locking onto his. “You just gave me excuses. You said you were a coward, that you thought staying away was better for me. But why, Lando? Why did you leave without saying anything? Why did you let me think I was just… disposable?”

His face twisted with guilt, and he ran a hand through his curls. “I didn’t think you’d understand,” He admitted, his voice rough. “I was scared. I was so damn scared of what I was feeling, of how much you meant to me. And then I saw those photos—”

“Those photos,” You interrupted, bitterness seeping into your voice. “The ones with that girl? The ones that made me feel like I never meant anything to you?”

He flinched, his jaw tightening. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Then what was it?” You snapped, the anger you’d buried for years bubbling to the surface. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like you moved on in a heartbeat. Like I was just another girl to you.”

“You weren’t!” His voice rose, his frustration spilling over. “You were never just another girl. Don’t you get that?”

“Then why?” Your voice cracked, tears stinging your eyes. “Why did you leave me like that? Why didn’t you fight for me? Fight for us?”

He stared at you, his eyes filled with anguish. “Because I didn’t think I deserved you,” He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I’d only screw things up more if I stayed. And when those photos came out… I was ashamed. I thought if I called, if I tried to explain, it would only make things worse.”

“And you think disappearing was the best option?”

“I didn’t know what else to do,” He admitted. “I was young, stupid, and scared. And I’ve regretted it every single day since.”

The sincerity in his voice cut through your anger like a knife, leaving you raw and exposed. You turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to shield against the vulnerability threatening to consume you.

“I needed you,” You whispered. “I needed you, Lando, and you weren’t there.”

“I know.” His voice was soft, filled with regret. “And I’m sorry. I’ll never be able to say it enough—I’m sorry.”

The room fell silent again, save for the sound of the rain pounding against the windows. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “I don’t know if I can trust you again.” You said honestly, your voice trembling.

“I don’t expect you to,” He replied. “Not right away. But I’m here now. And I want to earn it, even if it takes the rest of my life.”

You turned to look at him, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. But all you saw was raw, unfiltered honesty. “Do you mean that?”

“I do.” His voice was firm, resolute. “I’m not going anywhere this time. I promise.”

You nodded slowly, the tension in your chest easing just slightly. “But.. I don’t know if I’m ready for anything more than this—just talking, figuring things out.”

“That’s okay,” He said quickly. “We can take it slow. As slow as you need.”

A small, tentative smile tugged at the corner of your lips. For the first time in years, it felt like the walls you've built around your heart were beginning to crack.

Lando hesitated before speaking again. “What about Eric?”

You exhaled shakily, your fingers brushing against the faint bruise on your wrist. “It’s over. I broke the engagement. There’s nothing left to say.”

His eyes flickered with something unreadable—relief, anger, protectiveness, all tangled together. “Good,” He said quietly. “You deserve better anyway.”

You looked at him, your chest tightening. “I don’t even know what I deserve anymore.”

“You deserve everything, Angel,” He said without hesitation. “And if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

For a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes held yours—it was almost too much. 

But then you nodded, a single tear slipping down your cheek. “Okay,” You said softly. “But I need time.”

“You’ll have it.” He promised, and you nodded, letting his words settle over you. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was something. A tentative step forward.

As the storm outside began to ease, you found yourself studying him—his longer curls, the shadow of stubble along his jaw, the quiet determination in his eyes. He was still Lando, the boy who’d once made your heart race, but he was different now. Older, wearier.

A familiar stranger who somehow made you feel seen again, even after all the pain.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to start again.

© haniette | 2025, all rights reserved.

reuploads and likes are highly appreciated ♡

[itsjusthockey]

All I Want For Christmas - Jack Hughes

Wow guys, I’m back from the dead

Please interact because It’s fun

Do we want a Christmas series (I was gonna do one last year and then just didn’t because I don’t know)

I have other ideas brewing if this gets a lot of love

Anyway…enjoy

w.c 1,326 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

What do you get a man who has everything? Money? Check. Fame? Check. The best girlfriend in the world? Double check. Everything Jack Hughes could ever want, he had. And unfortunately for you, that makes it very difficult to buy him a Christmas present.

For the past almost three years, whenever you’ve asked about it, Jack always says the same thing: he doesn’t want anything, and not to waste your money on him. Normally, you'd be okay with that—college is expensive, and the savings you have go toward your future. But still, it’s your favorite time of year, and you want to get him something, anything, to show just how much he means to you.

To make your life easier, this year, you’ve come up with a new plan. If you can’t get an answer from Jack, you’ll go to the next best sources. Your first call is to Ellen and Jim, who kindly explain that Jack had gotten to them first and he doesn’t want anything from you but your undying love and affection. Well, he already has that, so the call is mostly a bust.

Next, you call the Captain. He laughs, telling you the same thing as the parents, and he even adds a “He’s got everything, kid. Don’t stress about it.”

Your final hope is a FaceTime with Luke. The second he answers, you beat him to the punch.

“If you say Jack just wants my love for Christmas, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Luke bursts out laughing, which you don’t find remotely funny.

“Sorry, champ,” he says, grinning wide through the screen. “I’ve got nothing. I don’t even know what I’m getting him.”

You let out a frustrated groan and bury your face in your pillow. It shouldn’t be this hard to find a gift for your boyfriend, and the days are counting down. You stay like that for a minute, until Luke calls your attention back to him.

“Stop stressing so much. You could get him a Yankee candle and he’d love it.” He pauses. “Or, hear me out, maybe you just listen to him and don’t get him anything.

Another groan escapes you, and you finally pick your head up. “That’s the thing, Luke. He always gets me the nicest things every year, and everything I get him feels... not as good.”

Luke rolls his eyes at your state. “Come on, you know he’s got the big bucks. Don’t put that kind of pressure on yourself to compete with him.”

You know he’s right, but it still doesn’t help. You give up on ideas for a bit and talk to Luke about whatever’s going on in his life. He’s still single, still slightly dumb, but he’s every bit still one of your best friends—much to Jack’s dismay.

“I actually do have an idea for you,” Luke says suddenly.

You sit up, eager to hear any suggestions.

“Come to Jersey for the break. Maybe the whole thing. You know that would be the only thing he’d want.”

You deflate like a ballon, a heavy weight coming in your chest. Even still, you try for a minute to work it out in your head. You’ve got your own family who expects you home, a job to manage, and grad school applications to finish. As much as you’d love to drop everything to be with Jack for a month, it just doesn’t make sense in your current situation.

Luke senses your unease like he always does and recovers. “It was just an idea. A stupid one. I forget you’ve got a lot going on.

You force a small smile, but the ache in your chest doesn’t go away. You put on a facade and talk to Luke a bit longer until your stomach growls and you excuse yourself to make dinner.

You’re halfway through cooking a pasta recipe from TikTok when your phone lights up. You assume it’s Jack, and you’re proven right. You prop the phone up just enough so you’re in the frame and answer.

“Hey, J,” you say, sounding more tired than you want. “How was your day?”

“It was great, mostly. Except, I heard through the grapevine you’re trying to get me a present.”

He teases and you try to laugh, but the sound dies in your chest, and before you even know it, tears are welling up in your eyes.

“Wait—what’s going on, babe?” Jack’s voice is full of concern, and that makes you start crying even harder.

“I'm fine, J,” you manage, your voice is quieter than you like. “I’m just...overwhelmed.

Jack falls silent for a moment, and you want to hang up, but you know if you do, he’ll blow up your phone until you answer again.

“Is it... me?” He ask, and your heart cracks again.

You let out a sharp laugh. “No, Jack. Not by you—just by life.”

He nods slowly, and for a second, you can practically feel how much he wishes he could be there with you.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asks, his voice is so sweet and so sincere that it almost kills you.

You wipe another tear away and finally give in to what you need to ask. “You can tell me what you want for Christmas.”

This time, he laughs, and it lifts your spirits just a little.

“Fine. I want one of those journals you write in. You know, the one with the prompts. That’s all I want.”

You turn the oven off and sit down at your table, making a mental note.

“Okay, that’s all I needed to know.”

The call falls silent again, and then Jack says something that makes your chest tighten all over again.

“(Y/N)... all I want, I already have. And I’m not just saying that. The only thing that could make me happier is having you here with me. But I know you’ve got your own stuff going on, and I can’t pretend to understand it. I need you to stop stressing about me. I’m good, great even. And seeing you hurt... that’s the only thing that’s making me hurt.”

You swallow hard, wiping away another stray tear. You nod silently, but finally break just a little bit more.

“I just wish I was with you,” you finally admit.

It’s true. Every time you hear his voice, things start to smooth out, and it’s even better when you’re together. You’ve done long-distance your entire relationship, and you’re starting to get really sick of it.

“I know. But we’ll have a week together soon, and it’ll be the greatest week ever, okay?”

You nod again, a small smile tugging at your lips. You finish your food and let Jack talk about whatever he feels like, the sound of his voice settling the tightness in your chest. You talk for an hour, long after you’ve finished eating and cleaned up. Finally, when your eyes are growing heavy, Jack bids you goodnight, and you hang up the call.

After your nighttime routine, you buy the journal he asked for from one of your favorite sites, and settle down under the sheets, wishing he was on the other side of the bed. You try to fall asleep right away, but of course, you think for a while, and the weight of your life situation hits you again. Maybe it’s time for a change—something to give you more time to be with the be thing that truly makes your happiness. Before you even know it, you’re pulling out your computer again and typing. You have another Christmas present idea, and you’re sure it tops anything you could ever think to buy him.

[odoraful]

𝑰𝑰: 𝑳-𝑶-𝑽-𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑳𝒀

xiao follows through with baizhu's advice and realises a lot more about his own feelings for you

⟡ part I: doctor, doctor!

⟡ content — xiao x gn!reader ; first love/confession ; perhaps a tad bit sad at the start but it gets better i swear!! ; zhongli and hu tao appearance ; xiao was oblivious in the first part, but he definitely isn't in this one hehe ; both of you are yearners for each other ; 4.3k words

⟡ a/n — finally finished!! i posted doctor, doctor in february and it's now may... omg i'm so sorry my lovelies for the wait 💔 i was a little sleepy when editing but anyway i really hope it's a good continuation :')

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In the past, Xiao would have never thought being bad at talking to be a disadvantage. He was once taught that it was a slower way of resolving things compared to the pointy end of his spear. Now, he silently wished he could speak with ease. Like the honeyed tales Zhongli could weave, or the precise lectures of Cloud Retainer. Xiao’s words were always blunt and rather clunky. And it didn’t help his speech if you were in his presence too.

Speak to Y/N about how they’ve been feeling, Baizhu had recommended. He had agreed so quickly in the moment because it sounded easy. Of course he could ask you, he had spoken to you dozens of times before. This time was no different, in fact, this was right in his repertoire: making sure you were in good health. Yet, with you standing beside him by the balcony at Wangshu Inn, his tongue became all tied up. Maybe it was the way the breeze toyed with your hair, your eyes glittered, or skin glowed in the morning light. The sight of you made all his words fizzle out.  

Archons, what has come over me? he wondered.

You turned to face him. He quickly tore his gaze away.

“What did you want to talk about, Xiao?”

Your question was to be expected. He was the one who had mentioned he needed to speak to you about something (which was the exact reason the two of you were standing out here). Yet, it still left him somewhat flustered.  

He kept his gaze on the vast landscape of Liyue—a brilliant canvas of yellows and greens.  “I wanted to tell you that you needn’t hide secrets from me,” he said.

You cocked your head to the side. “Secrets?” he was met with the sound of your light chuckle. “Do you think I’m living a double life or something?”

Xiao glanced to his side at you. It was enough to see you wiggling your fingers at him as you continued to tease, “Maybe I’ve secretly been a Fatui agent this whole time.”

He shook his head. “What I mean to say is… you can speak to me about anything. I know well that emotions can be confusing, but I will always try to understand them.”

Though Xiao seldom followed along with your joking remarks, he always replied to them in his own dry manner that you enjoyed. However, this time there was a seriousness to his words that caught your attention. Emotions? Confusing? Your chest grew tight as you straightened your back.

“Xiao, I wouldn’t hide anything from you,” you answered, genuinely.

Sensing your own concern, he faced you fully. “I know, but something has been different recently.”

Shouldn’t such trust and closeness between people mean being able to talk to them about anything? Both the good and the bad? Xiao was prepared to shoulder any of that weight for you. He reached for your hand that wrapped the railing of the balcony, encasing your fingers beneath his.

“Tell me what has been troubling you, please.”

It came out as a plea. Small and anguished. You had never heard Xiao sound like this before. And it was because of you.

There was only one thing you had been keeping from him. Something (or someone) that had been on your mind for a longer time that you cared to admit.

“Nothing’s been wrong,” you still denied, ignoring the open warmth that radiated from his hand into yours. A silent invitation from him to you. 

“I won’t accept that,” he responded gruffly. “It is bad to keep your emotions… bottled up.”

Xiao echoed the metaphor Baizhu used when they met. The mortal expression had sounded unusual when he first heard it, but now he understood—corking up emotions for too long can lead to spoiling.

“When you’re with me, you appear tense. If I am the one causing your trouble—”

“No!” you exclaimed, leaning in towards him. “W-well, yes, maybe. I-it’s complicated.”

What am I doing!? you thought. His touch was too hot. You pulled your hand back, fidgeting with your fingers, not knowing what else to do in your embarrassment. If Xiao had been offended, there was no hint of it on his face, only worry as he let his empty hand fall to his side.  

“Complicated? If there is a reason why, I will listen.”

You tilted your head upwards, staring off into the endless blue above, as if calling upon the Heavenly Principles themselves to give you strength and confidence.

You exhaled a breath.

This was it. The time to confess and be done with it.

“Xiao, I like you.”

The words you spoke felt foreign on your tongue. To be fair, you never thought they would ever come to light.

Every miniscule sound became too loud in the silence between you two. Your thrumming heart in your ears. The chatter of people echoing from below. The wind rustling through the golden leaves above.

Anticipating a greater reaction, you were surprised to see Xiao’s face remained neutral. Only a slight frow in his brows.

“I like you as well...” he said, carefully though obviously confused.

“No, no,” you shook your head, sighing deeply, “for me, it’s in a different way. I like you as more than just friends.”  

At your clarification of the distinction, Xiao’s eyes widened.

He had spent enough time observing people to know of romantic affiliations. Though, he never realised it could be directed at himself. Strangely, something within him stirred hearing you. A tether. A want. However, it seemed locked away in an unfamiliar space of his heart, collecting dust. Whether he intentionally cast such desires aside himself long ago, he could not say. Reciprocate, whatever inside him seemed to call out. But his old habits stifled such new feelings, knowing the hardship of entwining yourself too closely with others. His own karmic debt tainting all those who came near.

You saw the change in his reaction—knowing that he understood what you meant now—and hurried before he could say anything else.

“I can’t pinpoint when it started, but I know I’ve liked you for a long time, and that’s the reason I’ve been so jittery lately.”

You recalled his strong grip when he caught you from falling and his words of concern in your home accompanied by his gentle touch. You decided not to divulge too much of the private thoughts you had in those moments.

For all your previous hesitations, the words now seemed to uncork and flow freely out of you. “And I know people may see you as abrasive or unfriendly, but you have shown me just how caring you are so, so many times and every time I can’t help but like you more and more.”

Xiao remained motionless, processing everything. He was locked with parted lips and wide eyes staring into your avoidant gaze. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to reply to you. He just didn’t know how. The tether in his heart begged him to speak, but his lips might as well have been glued together.

“Please don’t answer me yet,” you spluttered. “I know what you’re going to respond with…”

There was a sad finality in your tone that struck him. You knew Xiao did not like you in the same way. He had expressed before his affections towards you as only friends. All the little gestures he did, no matter how fluttering, could not be interpreted as anything else, you believed.

You looked at him properly for the first time since your confession. “I want some time to prepare myself before I hear from you. Is that okay?”

Xiao nodded, finding the strength to move his body when his mouth failed him. “I-I would like some time to think, as well,” was all he could reply, his voice ragged.

He also needed to sort through his own tangled mess of thoughts. Figure out whatever in Celestia he was feeling inside. Emotions truly were confusing.

You gave a small smile. Meant to be a sign of reassurance for him that you were not so troubled anymore, but the wobbled corners of your lips perhaps betrayed that. “Alright, we’ll speak soon.”

You turned away from the balcony’s edge. Xiao watched as your figure disappeared down the steps and out of his sight.

One question had been answered, but it had left many, many more for him to understand.

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The consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour had experienced much of life (and had an eclectic set of memories to show for it). He did not shy away from unknowns as they would eventually become facts to him through reading a scroll passed down through a family’s generations, listening to the slightly drunken tales of a wizened sailor, or any other method of storytelling that he had the honour of encountering. And because of his wealth of knowledge, Xiao decided to meet with him.

Zhongli was inside Funeral Parlour. Not at the front desk, which the Ferrylady was currently standing behind, sorting through a ledger, but to the side in a waiting area. There were shelves filled with all manner of books and oddities, and comfortable seats for clients who generally needed to seek relief. Zhongli was drawing a finger against the spines of each book, wondering whether the collection needed updating, when the door to the Parlour creaked opened.

“Xiao! It’s lovely to see you,” Zhongli welcomed, surprise filling his face.

Xiao closed the door behind him gently, his eyes landing on Zhongli by the shelves. Recognising who the adeptus was, the Ferrylady simply nodded in acknowledgement, leaving the pair to catch up.

“Had I expected you, I would have provided more fitting refreshments,” Zhongli commented. “Here. Have some tea, if you wish.”

Xiao nodded in thanks as he was poured a cup of jasmine tea. He waited for Zhongli to be seated down first before he followed.

It had never been difficult for Zhongli to read Xiao. The distracted gaze, shoulders somewhat bowed, hands clasped in his lap. It was like Xiao was just another book on the Funeral Parlour’s shelves. Zhongli raised the cup of tea to his mouth, peering at the young adeptus from the rim before taking a sip.

“You seem... troubled. Is something the matter?”

Xiao watched the steam rise lazily from his teacup. Of course, Zhongli could easily pinpoint what was happening with him. Lingering emotions from the conversation Xiao had with you three days before bubbled up. It still felt surreal to him that it all happened.

“Yes, there has been something troublesome,” he admitted. “Y/N... told me that they liked me.”

Zhongli stilled his movements. You were no stranger to him. Naturally, he knew of many residents in Liyue, and he had also assisted you with his expertise in the past for commissions with the Guild. Now, he would never go so far as to say spying, but he also wouldn’t deny that he kept a special eye on you. Your close relationship with the young adeptus was something he was pleased to see blossom. Which was why it was confusing to see Xiao so unsettled in telling him the news of your confession.

Zhongli gave a comforting smile, placing his cup back on the table. “Y/N has confessed to you? I scarcely believe that that would be troublesome, but rather exciting.”

Xiao could only give a grunt in response.

Detecting this internal conflict, Zhongli lowered his voice, “Well, how do you feel about them?”

“I-I don’t know, which is the root of my problem.” A frustrated sigh escaped the yaksha. His mind was in all manner of disarray. “How do you know if your feelings for someone are different?”

Your words echoed in his head—as more than just friends.

“By different, are you perhaps referring to love?”

Zhongli’s pointed emphasis on the final word made Xiao redden. Again, he was not unfamiliar with the idea of romance. He had seen it in the streets of Liyue Harbour, from the young, sheepish sweethearts to the old, contented couples. Xiao had believed himself unworthy of it. But now, hearing the word spoken aloud, that wanting tether within him pulled again.

At Xiao’s sudden shyness at love being brought up, Zhongli had to stifle a chuckle. Still so new to the world, he thought.

“You know I cannot speak for your feelings, Xiao, but judging from how you came to me, it does seem there is more to your affections than what you first believed,” he observed.

Xiao ruffled his hair with his gloved hand. Zhongli was right. There was something more with you. There always had been.

“At rest, I have always sensed my karmic debt,” Xiao said. “But, since meeting them, the pain has lessened. I feel peaceful.”

The endurer of eons knowing peace. It felt foolish for Xiao to say, but it was the truth. He had never known safety and warmth to be with another person until you. His past had locked away these comforts from him, but the dust collected from forgotten emotions now seemed to blow away.

“Is this truly...” the word choked up in his throat. Zhongli had said it so easily before (even with the tiniest hint of amusement), but the word had not yet found its rightful place in his vocabulary yet.

“Why must this be so difficult...” Xiao instead groaned.

Zhongli gazed fondly at the young adeptus. “It is your first time. Do not be so harsh on yourself.”

He began to muse aloud. Xiao watched on, letting the sentences Zhongli weaved take hold. “Love enters each of our lives in many ways. Someone’s presence can come swinging like a sledgehammer, unexpectedly knocking us off our feet.”

With a knowing smile, Zhongli continued, “Or... it can be more subtle, like a pebble dropped into a still pool of water, rippling the surface from the centre outward.”

Xiao looked down at his filled cup of tea. Ripples. That was exactly it. Unassuming how you entered his life, and how impactful your stay had been. Finally, he took a sip of his tea, finding it less bitter than he would usually taste.

“Thank you for your guidance, as always.”

Zhongli laughed, “You needn’t be so formal, Xiao. I’m pleased you sought me out. Though, I do hope you come visit me again with some good news.”

Xiao nodded, albeit bashfully.

The old companions continued with the conversation. Largely, Zhongli tried to get Xiao to speak more about you. He knew full well that chance to be young and hopeless in love had been robbed from Xiao for centuries. So, with each short response Xiao gave about you between stutters, the redness never leaving his face, Zhongli was left more than satisfied.

After a short while, Xiao said goodbye, going back out to fulfil his duties with a newfound lightness. As he closed the door behind him, a shrill voice exclaimed from the stairs leading to the second floor of the Funeral Parlor.

“Was that the Conqueror of Demons?!”

Hu Tao had her hands on her hips, looking expectantly at her consultant.

“It was. You’ve just missed him, unfortunately,” Zhongli replied, leaning back in his chair.

The funeral director hurried down the steps, standing directly in front of his seat. “Oh, come on, you could have totally interrupted my meeting to have me say a quick hello!”

Zhongli gave a disagreeing hum. “We both know that you don’t enjoy funeral business being interrupted.”

Hu Tao puckered her lips and blew air out, creating a trill sound. Of course, Mr Zhongli was correct in saying that, but she was just making a joke! She slipped in the chair Xiao was just in, crossing her legs.

“So, why did Xiao swing by anyway?” she then gasped, “Is there new clientele?”

Zhongli shook his head, a smile playing at his lips.

“I’m not sure you would believe me if I told you.”

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You had always left the invitation open for Xiao to visit your home if he wished for a change of scenery. Though Wangshu Inn was gorgeous (and you would do anything to wake up to a view like that every day) there was still some charm to the quaint housing on the outskirts of the Harbour that you knew he would enjoy. All you asked for is that he did not teleport directly into your house unless you were in some peril, which he would know when his named was called. For every other time, however, he would have to knock before he could come in.

There was no peril here, but you did need to see him. Desperately. It had been three days, and your insides had stopped roiling since confessing. You were only left with preparedness now at hearing his answer. No matter how hard you tried to suppress it, there was a small part of you that hoped. Hoped Xiao might have a sudden change in his affections and realise he saw you as more than his friend.

You closed your eyes and steadied yourself.

You opened your mouth, beginning to say his name—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sudden noise pulled your focus away.

You weren’t expecting anyone at this time. Perhaps it was your elderly neighbour passing over some food she made, or a salesman looking to find customers for his wares. Frowning in the direction of your front door, you walked over and opened it ajar, just enough so you could see who was standing there.

You hadn’t even said his name, yet he knew he needed to come.

Familiar dark-greenish hair framing the amber eyes of a once harsh gaze, now softened since the day he met you. His chest puffed up and down, as if he had just run from somewhere. He looked at you like your parting had been years and not just a handful of days.

Your hand slipped from the handle, letting the door swing open fully.

“Xiao?” his name fell from your lips.

This was a very rare occasion where Xiao hadn’t thought things out fully before executing a plan. All he knew was that he needed to see you as soon as his meeting with Zhongli concluded.

“Hello,” he swallowed, composing himself. “I would have come sooner, but you instructed that I do not use my powers—”

“I know, unless I’m in grave danger,” you finished. “Thank you for knocking.”  

His politeness despite everything brought a small laugh from you as you spoke. It was a moment of your liveliness that Xiao took to like a moth to a flame, fluttering with desire.

You stood aside, allowing him to enter. The last time he was here he was convinced that you were ill and, quite innocently, wanted to nurse you to good health. Now, he knew the true reason for those symptoms and had come to an understanding of his own.

His boots tapped against the wooden floorboards of your home, and he came to a stop in front of you. Neither of you wanted to sit down, too filled with mirrored jumble of anxiety and hope.

“I have my answer,” he said.

He had never known his nerves to be this weak until now. His palms were sweaty beneath the fabric of his gloves, and his breath constricted. He can’t have imagined the amount of courage it took for you to have done the same thing.  

“Alright,” you folded your arms across your chest to bury your sinking heart. Even in matters like this, Xiao still got straight to the point. “I’m ready to hear it.”

Xiao flexed his hands at his side, trying to ground himself.

Although he could never paint flowery words with his speech, there was one thing he could always rely on—his bluntness.

“I-I love you.”

...

Oh.

This certainly had to be a dream.

A dream where the man you like just said that he loves you.

“I love you,” he repeated, his voice raw and gravelly.

Did he say it in a strange way? Xiao silently cursed himself looking at how motionless you were, hands falling to your side. He knew he should have practiced it aloud beforehand.

“Was that... wrong of me to say?”

Your head spun. Delirious laughter almost spilled from you.

What he had just said was the furthest from wrong. Any small hope that remained in you unfurled and bloomed brilliantly.

"This... isn’t a dream, right?” you whispered.

Xiao moved closer.

“No, it isn’t.”

This had to be real, otherwise, why did his hand feel so warm as it brushed against yours? His fingers gently took your hand. It was the only proof he could offer that this wasn’t a dream. That he was here, and his words were true.

“You love me? Really?” you had to confirm again.

“I do.” He did not waver in his answer, “I do love you. I should have realised it sooner.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The urge to cry became more tempting each time Xiao repeated that he was in love with you.

“I-I was sure you weren’t going to feel the same way,” you sniffed.

His chest seized up hearing your voice shake.

He recalled a fleeting memory. Resting beneath a shaded tree, dappled light cast across his face as conversation drifted through the air. The commotion from four others whose voices he could never forget for as long as he lived. They were speaking about falling in love once the war was over, how it would feel like when love found them. Peace in these lands must be achieved first, one had said. To which one commented what a buzzkill that was, which was followed by laughter from the others. Perhaps Xiao should have listened more closely to learn something then, rather than closing his eyes, letting the sound lull him.

“I... have little experience or knowledge of these things. These distinctions are quite new to me.” Xiao held your hand tighter. His pale cheeks dusted with pink. “Speaking with someone else helped me understand what my feelings for you meant.”

He was so close once again. Yet, you didn’t freeze up like before, afraid of revealing your hidden affections. Instead, you melted into his touch, adjusting your grip to feel more of him. There was nothing to hide between the two of you anymore.

“I’m sorry for making you uneasy for so long,” he quietly added.

“You don’t have to apologise, I’m not angry at all.”

Relief washed over him. There was even a smile on your face. Bright and warm and enveloping him like the morning sun. Playfully, you swung his arms back and forth.

“In fact, I’m really, really happy right now,” a chuckle accompanied your words.

Xiao’s lips curved into a smile too seeing you in higher spirits. “I am glad. To be honest, I feel much... lighter.”

Weightless, even. The taut desire he felt three days ago when you confessed had eased. He had gotten the courage to tug and pull on that tether until he was standing here with you in his arms.

“I think I have loved you for a long time but never believed myself to be worthy of it. You are too good natured and kind, and if something happened to you because of me,” he closed his eyes, unable to even stand the very idea, “I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

You had never once thought Xiao could hurt you. Even in the beginning when you met, though he was coarse as gravel, he always remained attentive. There was much of his past that left painful memories and only fed him sorrow and doubt. Despite it all, however, he still had a soft heart.

You reached out a hand, grazing your fingertips against his cheek.

“Xiao…”

His eyes fluttered open hearing his name being called so sweetly under your hushed breath.

“Can I hug you?” you asked. “Usually this is the part where people would hug each other.”

He nodded, burning to hold you as well. You encircled your arms around his chest, entwining your fingers behind his back. He wrapped his own hands at your waist and pulled you in, your body flush with his, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. Your breath tickled Xiao’s ear as you tucked your chin by his shoulder. Both of your heartbeats drummed with ineffable tenderness. It almost dazed him how much content swelled inside. He knew now why so many couples liked to hug.

Xiao was the first to lean back to look at you again. You were struck by this intensity of his eyes, seemingly lost with desire. Before you could think of anything else, your chin was tilted upwards.

Then, his lips were on yours.

You didn’t think Xiao could surprise you twice in such a short time.

The kiss was soft, like a falling petal brushing against skin. How much time had passed? Seconds, minutes, hours? You couldn’t tell. All you could focus on was the warmth from his lips and the shiver that it caused up your spine. This time, you were the first to pull away. Your cheeks were hotter than probably any of the springs in Natlan.

“How did you—” you stuttered.

Xiao cleared his throat. The spell he was just under seeming to disappear as he blinked away from your gaze, his blush intensifying. “I’ve seen many couples in the city do it. I-It just felt right to do.”

Shyly, he added, “Was that alright?”

He had a habit of second guessing himself when it came to his affections. Luckily, you were someone who was more than happy to give reassurance.

“It was more than okay,” you beamed. “It was perfect.”

You both stayed like this a moment longer, your hands around his back and his on your waist. Xiao spoke of meeting with Baizhu and Zhongli, which displayed a commitment to you that was far too endearing for your heart to handle.

There would be good news indeed when the time came to tell your companions what happened.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

⟡ taglist (hello lovelies!! thank you again for your patience 🥹🫶 i've never tagged people before so i hope this works) — @sizzles-z-4002 @redninjakitty14rp @butterescapism @fuyustuffs @unstablemiss @evilenbypotato

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[sebmindbreak]

On my knees begging for Shedletsky smut🙏

I NEED to be railed by that fat chicken man SO BAD!!!!

I’d want it ROUGH and HARD from this glutinous beast

HEHE I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!

ALSO THIS WAS MY LAST REQUESTS SO LIKE!

REQUEST ARE OPEN -23/05

READ THE RULES!

ANYWAYS

TITLE : chicken wings

The kitchen was warm and filled with the sizzling sounds of cooking, a symphony of flavors and aromas mingling together.

Your hands worked deftly, tossing and coating the chicken wings in a spicy, tangy sauce, the red pepper flakes and garlic powder clinging to the crispy skin.

The kitchen was a mess, flour dusted across the counters and splatters of oil painting the stove, but you didn't mind.

You could feel his presence behind you, his bulky frame looming over your slighter one.

His greasy t-shirt brushed against your back, the fabric worn and soft from years of use.

His blue shorts, straining against his girth, pressed against your ass as he leaned in closer, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.

"Mmm, something smells good," Shedletsky murmured, his voice a low, playful rumble.

His hands slid around your waist, fingers splaying across your stomach as he pulled you back against him, your body melding into his like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.

"I'm making chicken wings, silly," you replied, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth as you stirred the sizzling pan.

"I thought I'd whip up a quick batch for us to snack on while we... relax."

"Ohhh, but I don't want to wait," Shedletsky whined, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a needy whimper.

"Please, please... let me in. I need it so bad, babe." You chuckled, shaking your head at his childish antics, even as a thrill of excitement raced down your spine at the feeling of his hardness pressing insistently against your ass.

Unable to resist his pleading any longer, you spread your legs, just slightly, just enough... Shedletsky took that as the invitation it was, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he ground his thick, cloth-covered cock against the cleft of your ass.

You gasped, your back arching as you felt the heat of him, the size and weight of his manhood pressing demandingly against you. Before you could catch your breath,

Shedletsky was pulling his hips back, just enough to yank down his shorts and underwear. His cock sprang free, slapping against your ass ,already hard and leaking, the swollen head an angry red.

He rubbed the hot flesh of his shaft along the cleft of your ass,. "Mmm, not so fast," you gasped, trying to keep your focus on the task at hand, even as your body betrayed your growing arousal.

"I need to finish these wings first, or they'll burn."

"Come on, just a quickie," Shedletsky wheedled, his voice a needy whine as he gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh.

"I can't wait anymore, babe. I need to be inside you, right now." You bit your lip, your resolve weakening as you felt him lining himself up with your entrance.

The head of his cock caught on your rim, pushing insistently, demanding to be let inside. Your hole clenched, fluttering, as if trying to draw him in deeper.

"Okay, okay," you relented breathlessly, your hips canting back to give him better access.

"But make it quick, okay? I don't want to ruin dinner." Shedletsky grinned, his eyes sparkling with triumph and lust.

"Don't worry, babe. I'll make it real quick for you," he promised, before gripping your hips and pushing forward.

You cried out, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on the countertop as Shedletsky's thick cock speared into you, stretching you wide around his girth.

He didn't give you time to adjust, just started to move, his hips pumping in a relentless rhythm as he began to rail into you the kitchen filled with the lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, the obscene wet squelches of his cock driving into your ass.

You could only moan and whimper as Shedletsky took you, your body rocking with each powerful thrust of his hips.

Your neglected cock bobbed and jumped Your neglected cock bobbed and jumped each time Shedletsky slammed into you, drooling precum onto the kitchen floor.

The pleasure was intense, borders of pain and ecstasy blurring as Shedletsky's swollen cockhead kissed your prostate dead-on with every devastating thrust.

"Fuck, your ass feels so good around my dick," Shedletsky grunted, his breath coming in ragged puffs against the back of your neck. "So fucking tight and hot, like it was made just for me."

His fingers dug into the meat of your ass, gripping hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises in their wake.

He spread your cheeks wider, changing the angle of his thrusts so he could drive even deeper into your needy hole.

The new position had him grinding against your prostate with every pump of his hips, sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting up your spine.

You could feel your orgasm building fast, as Shedletsky fucked you with wild abandon.

The obscene squelches of his cock plunging into your sloppy ass filled the kitchen, mixing with the sizzle of the wings and your own wanton moans.

"Gonna... fuck, gonna cum soon," Shedletsky panted, his voice strained with impending release.

"Gonna pump you full of my hot, thick load. Fill this greedy cunt to the brim until it's dripping out of you."

Your hole clenched down around him, greedy and hungry for his seed.

you could feel the telltale twitch of his cock, the way it swelled and throbbed inside you as he chased his climax.

With a roar that shook the kitchen, Shedletsky slammed into you one last time, his cock erupting like a geyser deep inside you.

Scalding ropes of cum flooded your insides, painting your walls white as he emptied his heavy balls into your ass.

You could feel each thick spurt, the heat of it searing you from the inside out as Shedletsky marked you, claimed you, made you his.

Your own body shook from your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.

Ropes of pearly cum splattered the kitchen floor, your body shaking and shuddering as you came harder than you ever had before.

Even if you didn't realise that.

The chickens wings were completly burnt now..

Oops

HEHHE I HOPE YOU ENJOYED

ALSO I HATE THE LIMIT OF THE THING BRO

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

but then again ,its quite a good lenght i did i think-

[leviathanxprincess]

Introducing the Abyssos Devils to Your Plushies

The Abyssos Devils deciding to show up to your room for sex end up getting met with you deciding to sit down and show them all your plushies!!

Notes: mildly sexual content, nothing too crazy. Gender neutral reader!

Find Beelzebub's and others reactions here !

Bael

Honestly the only reason he was coming for sex was stress relief purposes anyway. Dealing with Bel's work all day is so exhausting for him.

But despite not getting what he planned for, this is just as good.

Something about listening to you ramble on about something so simple is relaxing to him.

It's so cute that something so simple brings you so much joy, and your happiness starts to rub off on him a little.

Put one in his arms that reminds you of him and he's at peace.

Honestly might forget about sex entirely, a nice cuddle session and listening to you talk might be enough for him to be calm again. Till tomorrow.

Brings you more plushies since he knows how happy it makes you.

Amon

He tries to eat them at first, ngl. Tell him no and he'll stop.

That being said he's not exactly good at waiting for what he wants.. but on the other hand he does enjoy watching how cute you act.

He's conflicted, but for now he'll let you talk about them!

Sort of. He's so clingy and it gets even worse when you act cute to him.

So you can talk, but he'll probably be rubbing his cheek against yours and clinging to you and squishing your face nonstop.

Eventually will devolve into silly sex. Nothing too crazy. But he loves you and how adorable you are so much !!!!

Naberius

Forget the sex, knowledge is more important!

He's got a whole notebook of facts on you and he's pulling it out and making a whole section dedicated to your plushies.

Their names, where and when you got them, what they mean to you. What material they're made of, how big they are, what creature they are.

He needs to collect every single detail, it's important to him.

And he remembers them too !!!

The best listener, he will ask you questions about them, genuinely curious to learn more about you. And so excited that you're willing to share this information with him.

Stolas

Acting all impatient and like he doesn't care. Very much like "you know why I'm here, why are you wasting my time?"

However if you look at him with sad eyes he will immediately shut up until you finish.

Well, mostly. He's still gonna act grumpy and cranky about it.

However despite all this, he does care. He cares a lot.

It makes him very happy that you're willing to share something you love so much with him, he just doesn't wanna show it.

He will eventually get what he wants but you should make him wait a little bit longer than needed, for fun.

Acts like he won't remember any of this but he will! He slips up every now and then and mentions your plushies by name. Feel free to tease him about that lol.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Eight

Summary: Jungkook's feelings for you have grown immensely and he can't hold himself back from being honest anymore. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.6K~ (I know it's short but it was at a good stopping point and I couldn't figure out how to continue it without a big time skip/harsh break so yeah enjoy this mini chapter 😅) Warnings: No warnings just fluff a/n: Another almost four months and I only have a little bit for you 😔 I'm still trying to figure out how I want to go about finishing this story (yes it's close to the end) so please bear with me 😪 but either way I hope you enjoy!

Ever since I told him last month that I didn't want to be friends anymore and by default telling him that I wanted to be with him things have been different.

We've settled into a new routine with the tension between us no longer burning to the point I shy away but something that feels natural, domestic even. 

I guess you could say that's pretty obvious from the fact that we're living together but his subtle touches are welcomed and expected.

Things as simple as his hand on my lower back as he passes by or his arms wrapped around me from behind with his chin propped up on my shoulder or even a kiss on the forehead are all things that we've settled into and it makes me feel loved. 

Love is still a scary word for me to think about or even say aloud but it's something I feel towards him, deeply, hopelessly, painfully.

At times I remember that things could suddenly change without warning. That he could toss me out as soon as he gets fed up with waiting like Jared did. That he cou-. 

"Ow!" I cry out when he pinches my side, "What was that for?" I whine, the spot he abused already sore. "I've been calling your name for five minutes and you didn't respond so..." he chuckles and I hum, not having the energy to scold him further. 

He wraps his arms around my waist and props his chin on my shoulder just like I had been thinking about while spacing out, leaving me relaxing into him, the feeling of being in his arms taking away some of the anxiety that had started to build. 

"You okay?" he asks, placing a kiss on my cheek to which I hum again, nodding along with it. "You sure, because you've been stirring your coffee for the past seven minutes" he says, my hand stilling once he points it out. 

I take a drink of the completely cold beverage and sigh in defeat, realizing that his words are true. 

"I wanted it cold anyways" I mumble and turn to walk over to the freezer to add some ice, Jungkook letting go but still staying close. 

"Something's wrong" he says after observing me for another second or two, very used to reading my body language. "Nothing's wrong I'm just...tired" I reply and the truth is I am. 

"My internship has been kicking my ass and I don't know, I guess it's all starting to catch up to me" I relent and he takes a turn humming, knowing I'm not telling him the whole truth. 

"You know you can tell me anything right?" he says, coming closer and cradling my face in his hands, granting him a sad smile in return. 

"I know, but I promise I'm fine. It's just been a long week, that's all" he studies my features for a while and decides to take my word for it, seeing that I'm not ready to talk about it. He nods his head a tiny bit before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss on my lips, one that lasts but a moment before pulling away.

"You wanna watch something tonight?" he asks and I smile as my answer, making him chuckle. "I'll make the snacks if you wanna go choose" he offers and I nod, my face still cradled in his hands so he gives me one last kiss before letting go and leaving our source of entertainment up to me.

~~~~

As the movie we've already watched and fallen in love with plays Jungkook notices my absence even though I'm cuddled up next to him, my reactions being minimal to nonexistent.

The parts we always laugh at are met with the sounds of his enjoyment and not mine so he pauses it and waits for me to notice which I don't for a while leaving him even more worried. 

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Bunny? Did I do something wrong?" he asks and I sit up, needing him to know that he hasn't.

"No, no you've been wonderful, better than I deserve honestly" I say, mumbling the last part but of course he hears it loud and clear.

"I'm good to you because I love you and you do deserve it, that's all" he admits so freely that I almost don't catch it.

"You...what?" I ask, almost too scared to breathe. "I love you" he says with a crooked smile, clearly enjoying my practically speechless state.

I sit there for a minute, stunned into silence, not having expected that at all but he just laughs. "What? You didn't think I loved you?" he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair off of my face, letting his fingers trail down my neck before withdrawing his hand.

"No...I mean maybe? Isn't it a little too early for I love you's?" I ask, tentative to say it after I had been burned by...

"I don't think so. I mean it might be forward but I've loved you for a long time and I've cared about you even longer. You're someone that has been a constant in my life for many many years and the fact that you've given me permission to hold you, kiss you...well it's something that I don't think I can hold back anymore" he confesses, making me feel as though my heart might explode. 

"I-" "You don't have to say anything. Take your time and only say it if you truly mean it Darling. I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for" he says, chancing caressing my face again and rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. 

"Come here" he says and pulls me in, having me straddle him not for anything sexual but just for the need to hold me close. 

I burry my face in his neck and he rubs my back, knowing that I feel vulnerable since although he's not rushing me, I know he'll be waiting for an answer. 

"I'm scared" I mumble against his skin and he hums, understanding the situation honestly more than I wish he did.

He witnessed the ups and downs of the relationship between Jared and I and sat on the sidelines, knowing he could treat me better but caring about me too much to take away my right to make my own decisions and choose who I love even if it wasn't him. 

"Take your time Bun. You know I'll always be here for you, no matter how long it takes" he reassures me of what I knew, making me nod and wrap around him even tighter, taking his words as genuine but still terrified that this could all slip away at any moment. 

~~~~

A week goes by and I still haven't said it and it's killing me.

When he says goodbye he says it, whenever we've been intimate he says it, he even says it randomly just to try to make me smile but my mind won't truly let it sink in until I say it back.

"Baby?" he asks, knocking on my partially ajar door, seeing that I've been taking a little while longer to get out of bed this morning. 

I hum and let him come in, trying to assess the state I'm in before saying anything else as he comes and sits down on my side of the bed, looking down at me and placing his hand on my waist. I'm still laying down, not having made an effort to get up just yet which I know worries him as well but he doesn't push me too hard. 

"You not feeling well?" he asks, now going to check my temperature with the back of his hand but not noticing a fever of any sort making his theory very short lived.

"No, just tired" I say quietly, not having spoken a word since I woke up, my voice still raspy which I can tell he enjoys but doesn't comment on this time.

"You want me to make you something? It's already lunch time and you haven't eaten all day huh?" he asks, knowing the answer but still allowing me the chance to reply. "Yeah maybe something simple like a sandwich?" I request and he nods.

"Want me to get it from that sandwich place we love?" he suggests, rubbing small circles on my waist but I shake my head. "No I'm craving one of your sandwiches" I say making him smile, knowing one of his favorite forms of praise is compliments on his cooking. 

"Okay Bun, the usual?" he asks, knowing exactly what I want but asking just in case I'm feeling like something a little different today but I nod my head in approval making him lean down and place a kiss on my forehead before asking if I want him to bring it up here to which I decline. 

"I need to get out of bed at some point" I say and he shrugs, "You're allowed to have a lazy day every once in a while if you'd like. I could even come join you later on?" he proposes making me smile, in favor of his suggestion. 

"Can we take a nap after lunch?" I ask and he smirks a bit, testing the waters to see what I'm actually asking for. "Just a regular nap this time" I roll my eyes leaving him sighing dramatically before leaving, telling me he'll call me down when it's ready.

Once he's gone the doubt that has been plaguing my mind comes circling back.

'What if he's just saying that to take pity on me? What if he's saying it to rush me into something I'm not ready for? What if-' I groan, cutting off the spiral that I send myself down every time I'm alone and throw the blankets off before going into my bathroom and throwing cold water on my face, glaring at myself in the mirror, daring me to keep acting like this.

He loves me. He loves...me. Why am I so torn up about this? People say it all the time so it's not like it's the end of the world. It's just that...well next time I say it I want to mean it.

The next time I say it I want it to be real. 

I want to say it to the man that I'll promise to say it to forevermore. 

Call me a hopeless romantic all you want but if I'm going to trust someone with my heart again I don't want to regret it...

~~~~

"Here you go Bunny" he says and places my sandwich in front of me. "I love you" I mumble, softer than I've ever said anything before but it makes his movements stutter. 

"What was that Darling?" he asks, sitting down in the seat next to me at the table. "I um...I said 'Thank you'" I chicken out and although he wants to call me out on it he doesn't.

"You're welcome baby" he says, his smile a little brighter when he realizes that I'm trying, that I want to say it too but I just don't have the confidence yet. 

"Anything for you" he finishes and caresses my cheek before getting up and grabbing his plate along with our drinks. 

"You sure you're feeling alright?" he asks, my silence through lunch palpable since whenever he tries to start up a conversation I give him short answers that make his efforts die in his throat. 

"I've just been feeling a little funky that's all" I say and he hums, contemplating his next words which surprise me.

"I'm sorry" he says, defeated and honestly quite vulnerable. "Why are you apologizing?" I ask, not thinking that he would have done anything that would require something like that. 

"I knew you weren't ready and I rushed things but I wanted to be able to say what I felt for you because it was eating me alive. Having to cut off my sentences and not being able to speak my mind fully, holding you as close to my heart as possible but not being able to tell you that you had it in the palm of your hand already I just...I couldn't do it anymore" he says, his whole demeanor shifted into an almost sorrowful state that I can't hold it back anymore.

I can't keep hurting him like this when all I want to do is scream it for all to hear, even if the thought terrifies me.

"I love you" I say making his head pop up from it's drooped state, then feeling guilty and looking at his lap again as a result. "You don't have to say it just because I did. I just wanted to apologize because I know that that's was why you've been feeling so off lately" he says but I shake my head. 

"The thought of giving my heart to someone again scares the shit out of me. After...well after going through all of that the thought of opening myself up again was not something I wanted to do. I will admit I sought you out out of lust at first but as our friendship and eventual relationship began to grow I realized that I cared about you a whole lot more that I should" I say, me now with my head turned down, not being able to keep the intense eye contact he's giving me, hanging on every word. 

"I didn't know if you were doing these things for me because you felt sorry or because you truly cared. I know now that doubting your motives was honestly my own self doubt getting the best of me. You've done nothing but love and care for me since the beginning and I haven't let myself fully process the fact that I'm..." I cut myself off and take a deep breath.

"The fact that I'm falling in love with you" and although he said those words first the admission alone has me feeling as though he hadn't, as if he would change his mind now that I reciprocated his confession but he does anything but that, further confirming his true intentions for me as he pulls me closer. 

He doesn't pull me in with a carnal passion in mind, he doesn't even pull me in for a kiss, he pulls me in and holds me close, telling me wordlessly that he's proud of me. That he's proud of me for taking that step, for trusting him with my heart, my mind, soul, fully consumed by him without abandon.

"Thank you" he whispers, his face being buried in my hair making me laugh at the ticklish feeling. "Don't make it weird" I say and poke his side making him flinch and hold me tighter. "How can I not? The woman I love loves me back" he chuckles and when I try to pull back he squeezes me tighter. 

"Just let me have my moment" he huffs making me sigh and return his crushing embrace. "I love you" he says making me burry my face into his neck, mumbling it against his skin in return. 

"Nah nah nah, say it like you mean it" he says, pushing me back just enough so he can look at me. "But I do mean it!" I roll my eyes, playing into his pouty act. "Come on, say it!" he says, pushing me back and forth, making me sway. 

"I already said it, why do you need to hear it again?" I chuckle when his pout gets deeper. "Okay fine" I give in making his brows raise at my quick defeat. "I love you" I whisper in his ear and then run away, his hold on me having loosened from pure shock of my honesty, knowing now that I truly truly mean it. 

"Get back here!" he scolds once he's come back down to earth, the surprise replaced with determination, his intentions being to not let me go til sunrise.  

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[tangylemonade]

NO ONE ELSE

Jeonghan x afab reader

(The reader wears feminine clothes and is referred to as pretty etc.)

18+ MINORS DNI (istg 🫵🏾 ಠ_ಠ if I catch you)

Word count: 9.7k

꧁ ☂︎ (angst) & ⚠︎ (smut) w/ a pinch of ☁︎ (fluff) ꧂

WARNING: unprotected sex (don't forget the casing before you stuff your sausage), kidnapping, cursing, description of abuse, Jeonghan smokes, Jeonghan’s in a gang, mentions of injuries, reader has toxic parents. Please let me know if I missed anything.

P.s. I am aware that it’s no longer recommended to wrap fractured ribs but my goodness let me have this （•‿•）

You were never a one night stand kind of person.

It felt too… vulnerable. Too scary.

You didn’t know how to just give yourself to someone you don’t even know. To trust them with a raw view of you. To trust them with something so intimate.

It had been a long week. A long month. A long year.

You were beyond exhausted and quite honestly ready for a change.

Falling asleep filled with that expensive bottle of wine you never felt special enough to drink you woke up with a fire in your heart. A spark that needed kindling.

And now on this tepid Wednesday morning while you laid in bed long past your alarm you felt more energized than ever.

Getting up you showered before finally checking your phone. Your boss called and you had a few text messages from your coworkers.

You lied about being up all night with fever and called out sick. You’d never done anything of the sorts before so no one even questioned it. One coworker even offered to bring you soup which you politely declined.

You did a face mask that claimed to plump your skin and after that you put on a little makeup. Standing in a lingerie set you bought at some point for a boyfriend you never even slept with, you tried on your only pair of heels.

No one would see you like this tonight except yourself but you didn’t mind at all. It still made you feel sexy, something you hardly thought about yourself.

Digging in the depths of your closet you found that one dress you kept tucked away for special occasions. Your heart did a little flip thinking that maybe it didn’t fit anymore but thankfully with a little shimmy as you pulled up the form fitting dress it still fit like a glove.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the way out the door you did a double take. The dress fit you perfectly, accentuating your every curve nicely. Your hair was done and all together with some makeup on you felt pretty. The prettiest you’d felt in a long long time.

You couldn’t help smiling.

Rasasy was a small restaurant that you’d often pass by but never went into. It always looked lovely and quaint and the scent would carry through the street making you hungry on your way home.

It was quiet with a few people enjoying their dinners while chatting away happily with their partners.

The food took its time coming as it was cooked upon order but it was completely worth it.

Taking another bite you looked around taking in the atmosphere. Soft piano music was playing quietly and the booth you were sitting in was warm and cozy.

You found yourself looking to see if you were the only person eating alone. In a beat your eyes locked with a man who must’ve been the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Sitting alone at the table to your right he took a sip of his red wine before giving you a disarming smile.

Without too much unnecessary thought you smiled at him and went back to your meal with your heart a flutter.

When you were finished you called the waitress to ask for the check. While you waited you glanced over at the beautiful man’s table but he was gone.

Your heart sank a bit and you shook your head laughing at yourself. What would you even say anyway?

“The bill was already paid for.” The waitress said with a smile.

“Paid for? Why? By who?” you said.

Somehow you already knew.

“The gentleman at table 3. He requested that you’d be given this note as well.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, feeling a little giddy.

The waiter simply smiled with a knowing twinkle in her eyes before heading away.

You waited until you got in your car, buckled in, started it, and took a deep breath before mustering the courage to unfold the note and read it.

-

Hello gorgeous

I didn't want to bother you because you looked so peaceful. I’d love to join you next time.

Jeonghan

+82-3-067-1005

-

The handwriting was a little sloppy yet had a unique elegance to it.

As you moved the paper you caught a whiff of a heavenly scent. Was that how he smelt?

Something regal…like an aromatic green tea and…. cigarettes. Not the cheap kind, the expensive ones that smelled sweet and warm.

“Oh who am I kidding.” You said to yourself with a wistful sigh before tucking the note into your bag. You often talked to yourself aloud to sort your thoughts.

“The lighting at the restaurant was very dim and romantic. Maybe he’s just drunk and lonely. Maybe he’s just playing a game. Maybe he has fun every night and I seemed like an easy target because I was alone and looked pitiful.”

But then a different thought popped into your head.

It came as a whisper.

‘Maybe… just maybe he wants to get to know me.’

The little thought echoed through your head silencing the others while turning your face vibrant with warmth.

Tomorrow. You’d call tomorrow.

☾

Pacing back and forth you couldn’t decide when the moment was right.

What if he thinks you’re a freak for calling so early? Maybe you should wait another day so you don’t seem desperate. Maybe you should’ve called last night and he doesn't even remember you. Maybe you could just text him? Maybe…

You hit call and squeezed your eyes shut while the phone rung.

“Hello?”

A voice filled your ear, soft and smooth

“Oh sorry Hi! Uhm this is Y/N. From last night. You gave me your number…” you heard yourself starting to ramble and wanted to die.

“Wow! I didn’t think you’d call.”

Your face fell in horror.

“Oh my I’m so sorry I-“

“I’m happy you did. I was sure you thought I was a weirdo or something. I felt so stupid but I figured you were worth the try.”

Your words caught in your throat while you tried to process everything.

“Hello? Are you still there?” He asked tentatively over the line.

“Yeah.”

Your words came out in a bit of a whisper.

“Perfect! So… do you want to get coffee or…”

“Yeah. Oh uhm yeah coffee would be- I could always drink coffee.”

“Are you busy? We could meet up today?”

“No, I'm off. How about Colvers? It’s new but I heard they make good coffee and the sandwiches aren’t half bad.”

“That sounds great! How does 2:30 sound?”

“Great!”

You caught yourself sounding a little too enthusiastic and tried to tone it down. “So.. I’ll uhm see you there?”

“See you.” He said with a light chuckle before hanging up.

A date. You have a date. A beautiful, gorgeous date.

“I’m gonna vomit!” you declared, collapsing on your bed with a groan.

You laid there for a little bit playing in your hair and suddenly giggling like a little school girl before hopping up and heading to the shower. You hummed the whole way through as you dolled yourself up and sorted through your things in an attempt to find the best and prettiest casual clothing you owned.

Checking the time you did your final touches before rushing out the door in fear of being late even though you were leaving early.

You arrived 30 minutes early and thanked god for your insight because it was a little busy but you still managed to find a good table.

You ordered their signature sandwich as a late breakfast, hoping you could finish it before he got there.

The sandwich took a little while to come but god was it worth it. You chewed with your eyes closed, savoring the warm and spicy goodness.

“Can I have a bite?”

You nearly choked as your eyes flew open at the sound of a smooth and sultry voice.

You quickly chewed and swallowed, taking a swig of your water. Your eyes pricked with tears as you forced the not fully masticated bite down.

“Have you considered filming a commercial? The way you’re eating makes that look really good.” He said with a smile that made you feel a little (a lot) hot around the collar.

“Sorry. I skipped breakfast.” You sort of mumbled as you self-consciously set your sandwich on your plate. “I don't drink coffee well on an empty stomach so I figured I’d eat before you got here.”

“Same. Can I have a bite?”

You blinked at him. “A bite?”

“Can’t I?” He did a head tilt that would’ve seemed innocent if not for that sparkle in his dark brown eyes.

You nodded slowly and slid the plate towards him with a hand that was now shaking a bit.

He picked up the sandwich, turning it around and looking at it before taking a bite right where you had.

Your mouth watered as you watched him chew.

Fighting yourself to look back at his eyes you saw something mischievous reflecting back at you that sent your skin fluttering with goosebumps.

He chewed slowly before swallowing and swiping the corner of his lips with his thumb.

“This really is good.”

“Yeah uhm.. do you want to order one…” you said, raising your hand to call the waiter.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it down to the table with a smile.

“Nah it’s okay. I’ll just steal more of yours, only if you don’t mind of course.”

He looked at you waiting for a response.

“Oh I don’t mind.” You said, not entirely sure why it didn’t bother you when you weren’t normally a big sharer. That was one of the reasons you were so lonely. It feels hard to give these days.

The waiter brought over an icy glass, setting it in front of Jeonghan and physically cutting the tension that was building as you watched him take another bite.

He sipped the cold glass of tea, his pink lips wrapping around the straw.

“What is it?” You asked as you picked up the sandwich and took a bite, your bite overlapping with his. You internally rolled your eyes as your heart did a little skip. What were you, in grade school?

But why did the sandwich taste even better this time?

“Iced green tea w/ honey and half cream. It’s good.” He said while pushing the glass towards you.

“Ohh sounds good.”

You weren’t sure if it really did sound good or if the thought of wrapping your own lips around his straw was clouding your common sense.

What in the world was this man doing to your dormant and CLEARLY desperate body?

You hesitated for a moment, looking up at him and catching his gaze again.

Without a second thought you put your lips around his straw taking a quick sip, the cool drink washing through your now hot body.

Jeonghan watched you for your reaction and you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flicker to your pursed lips.

“Oh it is good. Maybe I should order that instead of a coffee.” You said. The tea was not too sweet and pleasantly refreshing.

“I’m telling you. You have a future in advertising.” He said with a shake of his head and a dangerous smile. So charming it disarmed you and suddenly you were smiling too.

If you from a week ago saw you now she would have a heart attack.

You didn’t end up ordering your own tea. You shared his drink with him leaning in to take sips and exchange wistful conversation.

Here you were sitting with a complete stranger sharing spit before you even learned each other's last names.

☾

“So tell me more about yourself? What do you do for work?” He asked, walking alongside you, his hand gently brushing into yours as you stepped in sync.

It was a beautiful day and Jeonghan had suggested a park date. You went on a couple dates before but you always picked activities. Not as much talking time as there was physical bonding like pottery classes and movies. You two finished a quick picnic of sandwiches before going for the walk. It felt nice to talk with him in such a relaxed way as you strolled side by side along the sunny path.

“I work in banking.” You said with shrug

“Ohhh sounds fun.” He teased.

You laughed. “Ehh. It’s not bad and it pays well enough. What about you?”

You did a quick intake of the man walking beside you.

His shoulder length black hair was silky and smelled of a soft warm scent every time he turned his head to talk to you.

His slender stature was fitted in crisp yet simple black jeans and tee that you knew could only be from an expensive store.

“Family business. Nothing exciting like banking but hey.” He said with a chuckle.

“That’s nice! It's just me here so it can get pretty lonely.”

“Even with family it can also get pretty lonely. Do you have any close friends?”

You shrugged before awkwardly laughing “Do you count?”

Jeonghan playfully knocked his shoulder into yours. “Absolutely I do.”

You stopped and looked at him, smiling softly before shaking your head.

“What?” He said with his signature head tilt.

“What planet are you from Yoon Jeonghan?”

He laughed and turned his body fully towards you, leaning against a nearby tree. “What do you mean?”

“You’re just such…a- a.”

“Weirdo?”

You laughed. “What? No! You’re such a treat.”

His smile dropped a bit before quickly lifting into a smirk. You saw an indistinguishable emotion in his eyes that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Sorry. It’s just I- I’ve sortve been living in this weird little me bubble and the one day I suddenly decided to pop it you showed. It felt like fate… I mean you’re just so lovely…” Your voice trailed off. Your face was burning bright as Jeonghan's eyes watched you intently.

The breeze flittered his hair into his face as if it too couldn’t resist the desire to caress him.

“You’re trouble aren’t you?” He asked in an almost whisper.

“What? Me? Hardly. Besides, I’m not the one giving my phone number on flirty notes to strangers.” You smiled, playfully poked his arm as you spoke.

“Well a beauty like you is non-ignorable. I had no choice.”

“No choice huh.” You continued to quip in an attempt to distract your body from its desire to overheat in Jeonghan's intoxicating presence.

“What? Do you just hit on every pretty girl you see?”

He held your hand that you hadn't realized was still resting on his arm and pulled you closer to him.

“Oh! That reminds me…” he said, moving his right hand and puling something from his pocket.

It was a small blue box that he opened right away and showed you.

You gasped. “These are so beautiful Jeonghan. I can’t-“

“You most certainly can. And you can put them in right now.”

“No. I can’t except something so expensive.”

“It’s okay, I won them at a work raffle. I promise it’s okay.”

“Jeonghan…”

“Please. I wasn’t going to wear them anyway.” He said with a soft chuckle. “Besides, they would look too beautiful on you for anyone else to wear them.”

Carefully he placed the gift in your hands and rested his hands on your waist, holding you close.

You looked at the breathtakingly gorgeous emerald green studs a moment longer before carefully placing them in your ears. You didn’t own a single piece of jewelry. It was one of those luxuries you wouldn’t buy for yourself and no one had ever gifted you.

Emotions swelled in your heart as you looked into Jeonghan’s eyes.

His gaze was so intense you thought you might combust on sight.

The sun was setting, painting a heavenly glow against his smooth gorgeous skin.

You leaned in before he did your lips touching his. He pulled you even closer to his invitingly warm chest as he fell into your lips embrace. Pulling back he cradled your face and gazed at you for a moment. Again his lips devoured yours as the kisses quickly filled you with ecstasy.

Eventually you both had to take a moment to breathe, his soft breath tickling your nose as he rested his forehead to yours.

You lifted your hand to his cheek while your other hand's fingers laced through the silky hair at the nape of his neck, pulled him in for another delicious taste.

His kisses spread heat through your body leaving you feeling dizzy and thoughtless.

He was completely and totally intoxicating. Green tea and cigarettes mixed with a soft scent you now knew to be him.

The tickle of his tongue on your lips was a magic spell telling your body to open to him and you complied. You pressed into him craving more as his nimble fingers pushed patterns into your skin like a sinful tattoo.

“Wow.” You whispered breathlessly.

He laughed. “I agree.”

Jeonghan looked up at the dimming sky.

“When did it get so late?” He said, concern evident in his voice. “ Let me drive you home.”

“What about my car then? I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” You were still feeling loopy off of him and couldn’t stop smiling.

“Then let me walk you to your car.”

You nodded, grabbing his hand and walking alongside him with a smile still warming your face.

☾

Jeonghan would sometimes text you good morning messages that had you feeling all giddy throughout the day. You found yourself smiling so much your coworker giggled and whispered to you “Someone is getting laid huh?”

“Oh stop.” You said swatting her away from you as you blushed thinking about how good Jeonghan probably could make you feel if his kisses had you this buzzed.

A couple weeks blew by and you talked nearly every day, both of you being too busy to meet up.

Holding your takeout in one hand and your bag and keys in the other you hummed while you tried to maneuver your house key into your hand.

A chilling breeze alerted your skin with goosebumps and you felt uneasy. Turning around you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary so you quickly and anxiously opened your door and ran inside. You locked both locks while trying to steady your pounding heart. Just then your phone rang causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

You checked the caller ID. Why was Jeonghan calling so late? He never called at this time.

“Jeonghan?” You said through the line.

“Are you okay?” He said quickly, his voice sounding quick and low.

“Yeah I’m okay. I just got home. About to eat dinner.”

“Can I see you?”

“Now!?”

“Is that okay?”

“Well…”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to inconvenience you. Just…you’re okay right?”

“Yeah I’m okay. Why? What’s going on?” You asked, your voice sounding as shaky as you were feeling.

“No reason. I’ll leave you to your dinner-“

“No! I mean- uhm…come over.”

“Are you sure?”

He sounded so exhausted and it made your heart pang.

“Of course. I’ll text you my address.”

It was more than just wanting to see him, you were still feeling scared and you couldn’t shake the uneasiness despite telling yourself that you were just being silly. You wanted Jeonghan to hold you and make everything okay.

You paced back and forth in your kitchen until you heard the *pling* *pling* of your doorbell. You rushed to check through the peephole, the pit in your stomach beginning to unknot at the sight of the beloved man standing outside, his hair blowing in the night air, obscuring his face .

You quickly opened the door with a smile on your face.

“Come in, it's freezing out.” You said pulling him in by his hand without another look.

He kicked off his shoes hurriedly as you pulled him all the way into your kitchen and ran to the pan you had heating on the stove.

“Sit down. Did you eat dinner? I got takeout. It’s nothing fancy but I was just about to eat. It’s probably cold now so I’m just gonna heat it up except my microwave is broken and so I have to use a pan which actually is better because then it tastes…”

You had your back to him while you rambled and you suddenly felt his slender arms wrap around you, cutting your words short as they fell back down your throat, transforming into butterflies in your stomach.

He rested his head on your shoulder and let out a sigh that sounded like he had the weight of the world crushing him.

“Jeonghan?” You held his hand and tried to turn around but he gently held you still.

Looking down you noticed his knuckles. They were bruised and bloodied!

“Are you okay?” You asked, worry flipping your heart and sending it pounding against your rib cage.

After turning off the stove you grabbed his arm and this time he didn’t resist as you lifted it, turning toward him.

A gasp fell from your lips at the sight of his beautiful face…battered and bruised. He licked his busted, swollen lip and smiled at you, wincing a bit from the pain.

“Oh my god! How did I not…Jeonghan what happened!” Your hands flew up to his face but only hovered, scared to hurt him any more than he already was. Jeonghan grabbed your hands, pulling them close and resting them on his chest, against his pounding heart.

“Family troubles.” He said with a crooked smile.

You sat him down at your table before quickly leaving to grab your first aid kit.

Opening the box you hesitated as you looked at the over-supplied kit your coworker bought you as a housewarming gift unsure what to even use.

“An ice pack would be great.” He said, helping you along with a humorous lilt to his voice that didn’t fit the situation.

“Right, sorry.”

You quickly rushed to your freezer and grabbed your ice pouch you bought at some point for your headaches and quickly tossed it to the back of your freezer when you realized it was of no help.

Gently you brought it to his cheek, pressing it slowly to gauge his pain.

“Sorry.” You said pulling back when he winced. “Does that hurt too much?”

“Not when you do it.”

He smiled again, gently holding on to your waist.

“Sorry. You’ll have to hold this while I clean your lip.”

He took the ice pack, his warm fingers playing with your now cold ones.

Grabbing ointment you put some on a cotton swab before leaning over and dabbing it gently on his pretty lips.

You looked up at Jeonghan, your eyes meeting his as he looked down at you.

In an attempt to catch your breath when you first arrived home you had unbuttoned a few buttons of your blouse. Right now he had a clean view down your shirt and into your barely there bralet that you wore on long days because bras drove you crazy and this one was comfortable. Comfortable and basically see through.

You didn’t mind at all and made no effort to move as you continued tending to his cuts.

“Anything else?” So asked softly.

You noticed a bruise peaking through the black silk of his shirt.

Jeonghan stared at you for a moment thinking through his next course of action. With a pensive expression he unbuttoned his shirt all the way, revealing litters of purple marks all over his upper torso.

“Oh m- Jeonghan, I'm not a doctor! You need to go to the hospital.” You felt tears stinging your eyes as the night's emotions already began to bubble over.

“No need. Nothing's broken. I’ll be fine.” He held your hand as he spoke, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You felt his warm body shiver as you delicately traced the injuries on his skin with cool fingers. Jeonghan rested his hand on your hips, tentatively pulling you closer.

“I feel better already.” Jeonghan whispered.

His low voice sent tingles through every fiber of your essence.

“Jeonghan. What happened? Please...”

His hands rushed to your face, cradling it and catching your falling tears with his thumb.

“There are things that need to be done. When they don’t get done it’s only natural to pay the price.”

“What does that mean Jeonghan?” Frustration twisted with worry in your voice. “Do you need help?”

He shook his head.

“It means that I will do everything within my power to keep you safe.”

“Jeonghan…You’re scaring me.”

“It’s gonna be okay y/n.”

He sweetly gazed up at you, stroking your cheek. You found yourself leaning closer, seeking the warmth and comfort you knew he could give you.

Your lips touched, not as a kiss but rather to simply feel each other, the emotions passing between you stronger than words could understand.

With a tilt of Jeoghans chin he kissed you softly at first against your trembling lips. His hands firmly pulled you closer, your body slotting between his legs as he deepened the kiss. Your tongue caressed his bottom lip and you tasted his blood in your mouth as he opened himself to you desperately.

His fingers hungrily wandered, leaving fire in their path.

Immediately undoing the rest of your buttons you slid your shirt off your shoulders, dropping it on the floor beside Jeoghans.

His hands squeezed your thighs encouraging you to straddle him.

“Are you..” you could barely speak as Jeonghan continued kissing you. “…sure it won’t…mhhh…hurt?

His only response was a moan against your lips before he pulled you into his lap, putting an end to your hesitation. Feeling worrisome about touching his injured body you laced your fingers through his hair.

Your hips took the lead pressing against the hardness that was growing in his slacks. He groaned into your neck where he had now begun to kiss and suck the sensitive skin, a moan vibrating against your throat.

Jeoghan placed your hands against his chest, letting you know that it was okay to touch him.

Your skirt was now lifted and sitting at your hips leaving only the thin barrier of your underwear now dampened with your arousal. Sliding down your bralette he littered your breast with licks and kisses.

Undoing the button of his pants your shaky hands struggled with the zipper before finally pulling his cock from the dreadfully difficult blockade that was his clothing.

“Fuck…” he breathed against your skin as you gently circled his tip, collecting the percum and stroking down his length.

His hands shot down to your aching core seeking to return the favor. He played with your swollen bud over damp underwear earning moans from you that had his cock twitching in your grasp. He slid your panties aside, slowly slipping two fingers into you.

Jeonghans hands were as nimble and graceful as they looked and you wondered if you would last much longer.

He pulled from inside leaving you aching with protest before you felt the tease of his tip to your dripping pussy lips. Standing to make it easier you watched as he guided his pretty pink cock into you, his length slowly disappearing until you were back flush against his lap.

With how long it had been since your last relation combined with his delicious size, you weren’t surprised by the pain of the stretch. Your eyebrows furrowed as you adjusted. Jeonghan kissed the corner of your lips, his hands massaging your hips while you breathed through the moment. Despite the twitch of his cock which you felt against your sensitive walls Jeonghan didn’t move, allowing you to take the lead.

He buried his face into your breasts, a string of swear words on his breath as your tight walls squeezed his throbbing cock.

When you began to rock he had to fight to steady his breathing before he blew it right then and there.

It truly had been too long for you. It didn’t take much more of his cock pressing all the right spaces in you before an orgasm came pulsing through your body. Jeonghan struggled to focus as he fought through the euphoric feeling of your fluttering pussy so that he could watch the scene that was you unraveling against him.

The beauty of your flushed face, kiss swollen lips, dazed eyes, and your softly furrowed brows had Jeonghan seeing stars.

You rested your head on his shoulder as you caught your breath.

Jeonghan waited until your heart calmed against him before he secured your hips in his hands and began lifting into you.

Shivers flittered down Jeonghan's spine as you moaned loud and clear in his ear.

Your feeling of overstimulation washed into the building of pleasure once again.

His hips began to stutter as he built closer to his release. You moved along with him and it wasn’t long before your walls were squeezing and pulsing around him again, this time pulling his orgasm into you in hot ropes. He rutted inside a few more times before wrapping his arms around your body and holding you close. You both began to settle from your high, the reality of the moments setting in.

Jeoghan was in your kitchen half naked and covered in bruises with his cock buried inside of you.

You must be going crazy because right now as you rested in his arms you felt safer than ever.

☾

You woke up to an empty bed despite falling asleep in Jeonghan's arms. The memory of you guys pulling off the rest of your clothes and stumbling to bed played through your mind.

Your stomach growled, reminding you that you skipped dinner.

You rolled over to see a note where Jeonghan had been.

~

Sorry I had a few things to handle.

There’s breakfast on the table.

I hope I didn’t make you late for work ^_^

~

You smiled not even caring that you were absolutely going to be late.

The bathroom mirror was still a bit fogged over when you looked in it. You touched your earring and smiled to yourself.

“I should’ve woken up earlier and showered with him.” You said to yourself regretfully, quickly showering so you could enjoy the breakfast he left to you. The towel he used was slightly damp and it smelled like him. You used it to dry off even though you had more than one and hurriedly lotioned and got dressed.

Jeonghan had left you a coffee that was still warm and a breakfast sandwich from Clovers. You thought your face would break from how much you were smiling but you couldn’t help that soaring feeling on your heart as you grabbed the food and headed out the door.

☾

The hairs on your neck stood up tall as you walked toward your house. It was the same stressed and scared feeling you felt the other night. The streets were being cleaned in the morning so you had to park farther down. You walked quickly as nerves began to set in halfway home. Glancing behind you you saw nothing but when you turned back around you crashed into a big tall man. You were unable to see his face before someone grabbed you from behind, holding a damp cloth over your nose until everything started to blur. You fought and fought with all your fading might, dropping your things on the ground before your body fell numb and everything went black.

Awakening to the ringing sound in your ears you squeezed your eyes tighter to gather your bearings. Examining yourself you found a bandage wrapped around your wrists and chest. It hurt as you breathed in. Your attempt to sit up was cut short by your body collapsing back on the bed, pain shooting throughout and settling into your head as a heinous migraine.

Cautious breaths were your anchor as you slowly looked around the dark room. Adjusting to the dark you noticed the faint orange glow of a cigarette burning by the window.

Fear ripped through your heart as every alarm fired off in your head.

You weren’t alone.

Using all of your strength you pushed your back against the headboard as you felt around for anything that could be used as a weapon. A gentle breeze from the open window blew through, bringing a familiar scent to greet your nose.

“J-Jeonghan?” Fear turned into confusion and then terror.

“You’re awake?” His voice came, soft and warm like a blanket covering you.

He stood up and stepped closer to you revealing the slouch of his tired frame. Bathed in blue light you could see fresh cuts and bruises on his face.

“Here, drink this.” He said offering you a water bottle.

You only just noticed how thirsty you were but you shook your head and pushed your body further away from him.

“Please, you must be thirsty. It’s unopened.” He said, switching on nightstand light and showing you the sealed bottle.

You took a moment to mull it over before tentatively accepting the drink. Your action was cut short as pain shot through, forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself.

Jeonghan rushed beside you, his hands instantly resting on your arms as his concerned eyes scanned your body. Save for the bandages around your chest and ribs your upper torso was bare, revealing the dark brushing that littered your upper torso.

“Let me help you.”

Jeaoghan opened the bottle and brought it to your mouth, his hand gently cradling your face carefully avoiding you painful bruise on your chin. Without hesitation you parted your lips allowing him to pour a few sips into your mouth. Your throat rejoiced at the relief while your stomach made you aware of its hollowness with a growl.

Jeonghan gazed down at you in his close proximity.

“What's going on?” You shakily whisper to him. “Everything hurts so…ugh…so much.”

A frown wrinkled Jeonghan’s beautiful face at your words and he looked away in shame.

“…Jeonghan?”

“You're safe. Rest here for a few days and then I’ll relocate you somewhere more comfortable. Kim will come later tonight.”

You blinked at him, no sound able to leave your mouth as you tried to process the moment.

With that Jeonghan stood up, grabbed his coat and headed for the door.

“Wait! Where are you going?” You asked, panic and distress filling you at the thought of him leaving you here alone.

“Don't leave me.” Your voice broke and you saw him hesitate, his hand frozen on the lock.

“Kim will be here soon.” He said quickly before slipping out, shutting the door airily behind him.

About an hour passed before a small slender woman possibly in her mid 40s walked in with a suitcase in tow behind her

“Hello.”

Her voice paired with her warm motherly smile felt gentle and sweet.

“You’re already looking better!”

She switched on the room light finally allowing you a clear view of the high end hotel room you apparently were staying in.

Kim went to the bathroom and came back with a basin of water.

“May I?” She asked, placing the bowl on the nightstand and ringing out the cloth.

You nodded and she began by wiping your face and then your hands. It felt soothing and the tension you felt from a stranger being in your presence began to fade.

“What’s goin-“

Kim shook her head, cutting you off without a word.

You looked at her with pleading eyes and her eyebrows tensed.

“Listen here now darling, it probably won’t make much sense but you helped save a lot of lives. A lot of innocent women and children.”

She looked at you with a soft smile. “The work that the Yoon family does isn’t very pretty and sometimes it’s down right awful. But there are people out there who are worse. And hopefully this group of worse people won’t be able to hurt any more good people.”

You were angry now. “That’s nice and all Kim but that doesn’t explain anything.” You frowned, speaking through gritted teeth as your brain struggled to sort things that just weren’t making sense.

Your heart was pounding, your ears ringing, and you were begging to feel nauseous.

“Come on doll, let’s get you washed up.

You wanted to be noncompliant but unfortunately you could really use a shower and you didn’t think you had the strength to get to the bathroom on your own.

You simply grumbled a thank you as Kim helped you to the shower and turned on the water for you. You didn't even mind when she helped you out of your clothes and bandages. She left you alone after that, only popping in to give you some toiletries and clothing.

You sunk to the floor of the tub in tears as your world crashed around you not even caring that your sobs were louder than the patter of the water against you.

You woke up to the shuffling sound of Kim’s footsteps. There was a bowl of savory smelling porridge steaming on the nightstand.

“Good! You're up!” Kim said cheerfully, making her way over to you.

You need to get something in that stomach of yours.

Kim had helped you with your hair last night by drying and plaiting it for you. You remembered Kim’s gentle hands tangling through your hair while you numbly sat on the cold floor. She had to practically drag you to bed but the moment your head hit the pillow you were out.

You pulled the covers around you. You were still naked save for the bandages Kim rewrapped for you and underwear you’d struggled to pull on. There was a t-shirt on the bed for you and you quickly pulled it on. Kim stirred the porridge and brought the spoon to her mouth checking the temperature as if you were a baby.

She set the tray down in front of you and placed the spoon in the bowl.

“Eat up. Please. You need your strength to heal.”

•••

They had you for two nights… maybe even three.

You were brought to a gaudy bedroom littered with alcohol bottles in every corner.. You were left there alone for a few hours before a woman, possibly in her late twenties, showed up.

She was concerningly skinny with a face that was pretty despite the bags under her eyes and the obvious drug use that bruised her body.

She took a moment to circle the pole you were chained to before scoffing.

“You’re not even that pretty.” She grumbled before landing a blow to your stomach, knocking the air from your lungs.

She would come in periodically to throw insults at you and hit you before eventually falling asleep on the bed. She was always inebriated, her words slurring together as she hissed at you with hot breath that reeked of liquor.

On the last night you heard the commotion of guns and yelling. She heard it as well and rage boiled in her eyes as she screamed and hit you harder than before. You felt the sickening crack of your ribs as you gasped for air and tried to stay awake.

When everything stopped you thought maybe you had died.

But you felt the warmth of a body, the familiar scent of green tea and cigarettes filling your bloodied nose. Once the chains were removed you fell into your savior's arms, unable to stand on your own.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you…”

•••

You finish the porridge and curl up in bed feeling exhausted even though you hadn't moved an inch. You turned your face into the pillow but you were too tired to even cry.

When you woke up this time it was dark out. Moonlight danced through the room caressing your bare skin. Your skin flitted with goose bumps and you shot up scanning the room, your eyes landing on the figure leaning against the windowsill.

You pulled yourself up and leaned against the headboard so you could face him while you spoke.

“I want to go home.” You said, your voice sounding shakier than you’d hoped.

Jeonghan sighed and out out his cigarette before walking towards the bed, sitting at the foot of it.

“It’s not safe.”

“And why is that Jeonghan?” This time your voice sounded just as venomous as you wanted it to, the rage finally stronger than your fear.

“You’ll need to lay low for a while until things calm down.” His eyes intently watched your glaring ones as he spoke.

“You won’t be able to go back to your job so I’ll help you find something new and until then your needs will be taken care of.”

You looked away first, cursing yourself for the way your body still fluttered under his gaze.

“Can I ask you something?” You said as you fiddled with the blanket, rage subsiding and nervousness taking over again.

Jeonghan nodded.

“Why me? Did you really even…”

By now you had figured that it was all some twisted game that only you were missing the rules to. That you were just…bait?

He sighed again and rubbed his face tiredly before answering.

“You seemed…lonely. Like no one would notice if you went missing. You’re also very pretty.” He listed the reasons matter factly as if it was as casual as telling you the weather.

You wanted to protest but it was true.

Your family wasn’t just physically far away.

Your relationship with your mother and father became strained when you told them you didn’t want to keep sending money just for your little brother's addiction. They claimed it was for his rehab but he never went. Once they found his body you knew it was over. They blamed you and it was easier to leave entirely than deal with their constant bilgerance. When your job had a transfer available you didn’t hesitate. Sometimes at night you were haunted by the anger in your mothers eyes. To her, you were a witch who had killed her beloved son with your greed.

“That night that we... Why- why did you come to me? If I was just…if it was just…”

You couldn’t go on as the tears swallowed your words.

“Because I wanted to.” Jeonghan said nonchalantly.

You looked back at him with furious eyes.

“Listen.” He continued with a sigh, his tone more serious now. “ what happened- you didn’t deserve to get wrapped up in this. I’m sorry. Once I started to- I wanted to find another way.”

Emotions stormed through you, leaving you feeling confused and tired. Jeonghan's words offered little clarity, only giving way to more questions.

As Jeonghan watched your shaking eyes he wondered.

At what point did everything start feeling…real? At what point did he allow such a distraction to pull him away. It was never meant to be this way…and yet he found himself only thinking about you.

“What now?” You said, suddenly pulling Jeonghan from his thoughts. Your voice was soft against his tired mind.

“Safe house. Just for a moment while things settle. There’s still some cleaning up to do.”

You sighed and buried your face into the blanket.

A moment passed before Jeonghan spoke again.

“I’m not going to let anyone else hurt you. And that's a promise.”

For a reason only god knew, Jeonghan's voice still felt like a warm hug swaddling you tightly.

“Fuck. You.”

Your voice was muffled in the blanket but his sigh told you he heard you loud and clear.

That was the last bit of fight you had left. You already knew that no matter how messed up the situation was, you believed his every word.

☾

The next morning you left for the safe house. The drive was long and the roads were whindy and yet you napped in the back seat while Jeonghan silently drove.

Jeonghan found himself peaking in the rear view mirror often to catch a glimpse of your peaceful face.

‘There’s a special place in hell for people like me.’ He thought to himself.

Not wanting to wake you or have you wake up alone, Jeonghan waited in the car despite having arrived 2 hours earlier.

Your eyelids fluttered awake as the sun beamed through the open car windows. Jeonghan was still in the driver's seat quietly speaking on the phone. His eyes shot to the rearview and he gave you a smile. Unfortunately it was just as charming as ever.

“Yeah I’ll call you back.” He said into the phone and hanging up before getting out of the car and opening the door for you.

You nearly tripped on your way out the car as you took in the view around you. The gorgeously quaint cottage house was surrounded by miles of luscious land. There were chickens clucking around and to your far left there was a horse grazing. It was beyond beautiful. It was dream-esque and… secluded?

“Did you bring me here to kill me?” You asked seriously.

He chuckled butterflies straight into your stomach and shook his head.

“If I wanted you dead, why would I bring you here? Why not just leave you with Stella?

All you could do was shrug.

“Stella? So that is the person I need to thank for the bruises.” You said with a forced laugh.

Jeonghan's lips tightened into a thin line, a flicker of anger crossing his elegant features at the sound of Stella's nasty name on your pretty lips. "Don’t concern yourself with that" he muttered, his voice dressed in bitterness and disgust. "She's...been dealt with."

With that he walked away, closing the conversation.

He opened the door for you, letting you walk in first before following and shutting the door behind you two. The house was lit beautifully golden with the sunsets glow.

You turned to him with your eyebrows furrowed.

"Dealt with?"

“The mouse pays for the cheese with it’s life.” He said with a nonchalant shrug as he walked to the kitchen

“Jeonghan!”

You raised your voice and crossed your arms feeling a bit like an indignant child.

“Hmm?” Jeonghan hummed back without even so much as looking at you. He was shuffling through the refrigerator.

“Did you use me as bait in some sort of twisted lovers spat?” You felt your blood boiling as your pulse quickened.

“Hardly.” Jeonghan said, his haphazard attitude now starting to tick you off.

“I’m already trapped in the middle of nowhere with you. The least you can do is look at me and give me a proper explanation!”

“Look.” He said suddenly slamming the refrigerator closed, walking towards you until he was so close you had to take a step back.

“Stella was never my lover or anything like that. She was some crazy bitch who we did trade with. The skank was fucking obsessed with me, always making advances. Anyway she was running some druggie club that took part in human trafficking and shit.”

He walked back to the kitchen now, angrily pulling things from the refrigerator while he spoke. You pulled yourself onto one of the counters and listened.

“You see it’s pretty well know that the Yoons don’t fuck with that kind of shit so we were obviously gonna be a problem. I guess her and a few other wannabes got together with a grand idea and put a hit on my family. To try and scare us off I suppose. We lost good men that night.”

He paused for a moment, his expression suddenly somber but he shook it off and continued.

“That was enough incentive to put an end to her shit but that rat was hard to find. Except I would get letters from her, sometimes super detailed with mentions of things that happened to me the night before. I had a little fun at Rosie’s House and the girl showed up the next day in bad shape. Told me I wasn’t welcome back anymore. That's when we got an idea.”

He stopped tossing out the old food from the refrigerator and turned to you before leaning against the counter, his arms on either side of your body.

Your breath hitch but you did your best to act unaffected by him.

“When I saw you at that restaurant I knew it would drive her crazy. You were absolutely stunning.” His eyes flickered across your body and your treacherous heart went leaping for him.

“It wasn't enough to sleep with you. She had to think I was really seeing you. That way she’d wanna snatch you up and figure out why, leading us right to her.”

He backed up and sighed. You took a few breaths, trying to steady your racing heart.

He leaned against the opposite counter, eyes still watching you as he thought over his next words.

“…She actually found you pretty early on. The night I’d shown up…the night we…Shit was supposed to go down that night but…anyway I couldn’t show up after screwing shit up so I…went to you..”

Jeonghan shrugged his shoulders. Looking down he began picking at a callous on his palm.

“How did you even find where she took me?”

He stood up straight and pointed to your ears before turning around and unpacking the new food he purchased during a pit stop on the way here.

“Are you hungry? There's some kimbap here if you’d like.”

You slowly touched your earrings as sadness pinched your heart..

“No thank you.” You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “ I’m gonna go and wash up.

“Oh right. Let me show you your room.”

Your room was cozy and spacious. Without waiting for him to leave you kicked off your shoes and pulled your sweaty shirt over your head, tossing it into the basket in a corner that said laundry on it.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Jeonghan said as he turned away to head out.

“Wait—“

He quickly turned back around, inquisition painting his face and he tried to rapid fire reasons in his brains as to why you’d ask him to stay while you pulled off your clothes.

“Can you help me wrap a new bandage?”

He nodded slowly. “Sure. Just call me when you’re done.”

You nodded and he left, closing the door behind him.

Did you really just ask him to wrap the bandage for you? You laid your face in your hands in exhaustion. ‘Whatever’ you told yourself as you pulled off the rest of your clothes. ‘Not like he hasn't seen them already.’

You reasoned with yourself and decided that shyness wasn’t worth losing sleep due to pain. Angrily you took out the earrings and tossed them somewhere on the floor.

You showered as quickly as you could with your sore body before drying off and lotioning as best as you could. You rummaged through the duffel bag of toiletries and clothes that Jeonghan had given you, putting on deodorant and slipping on a pair of panties and sweatpants. You wrapped your towel back around you and took a deep breath that you instantly regret when you felt the pain shoot through you. The pain was also a reminder to suck it up and go find Jeonghan.

You poked your head out of your door. “Jeonghan?” You called softly as you looked around the hallway.

When you didn’t get a response you walked towards the door across from yours and knocked. You heard movement inside the room and Jeonghan pulled open the door with a gentle smile on his face.

“Come in.”

He pulled open the door all the way and walked into the room. You hesitated for a moment and he looked back at you, amusement obvious in the twinkle of his eyes.

“Sit here.” He gestured to his bed where he had a first aid kit already open.

You scowled at him before shuffling into the room and sitting on the bed. You tried not to think about how pleasantly the room smelled of him.

Sitting next to you he faced you and waited. When you didn’t budge he lifted his hands towards your towel, stopping in front of your folded towel.

“May I?”

You nodded in response and set your arms down to your side.

He untucked the towel, letting it fall to your hips and revealing the tender skin underneath.

The room felt cold and your face burned hot.

When he bent down to pick up a jar of cream off of the floor you noticed the bright red of his ears.

He showed you the jar of medicinal cream before opening it and carefully scooping some with his fingers. “This will help with the pain, the healing, and the bruising. Kim makes it for me.”

You watched his hands move with careful elegance and he gingerly rubbed your bruises with the cooling cream. The strong medicinal smell was relaxing as he worked.

His movements were soft and graceful as he did his best to focus on his work and not your perked nipples or the soft rounds of your breast.

Unrolling the bandage he tenderly wrapped the stretchy material around your chest that now ached for more reasons than just bruises.

You couldn’t help exploring his face as he worked. His skin was smooth save for his chin that had a little light stubble on it. His warm brown eyes squinted as he focused on his task, long straight eyelashes fluttering with every movement. His pink lips pressed into a line while his nose would scrunch in concentration.

There was still an heinously undeniable connection that tethered you to him, an energy that left you feeling breathless and warm.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Jeonghan's eyes met yours, his gaze softening with emotions you felt all too intensely.

He was now working the bandage upward to your breast and you could feel his hands slow.

He continued wrapping, his calluses finger tips grazing against your nipples sending your nerves into a frenzy. You swallowed, keeping your eyes on everything except him until he was finished.

Already feeling hot and bothered you felt a sense of relief wash over you now that his careful ministrations were complete.

You went to stand and he stopped you with a hand on your arm. Opening the cream again he took more out and began rubbing it into the bruise on your arm.

His fingers felt heavenly against your skin as he rubbed more into another bruise on your shoulder.

“Turn around.”

You complied, turning on the bed and showing him your back. This time his touch made you shiver as his nimble fingers traced along your spine.

“Sorry, you must be cold. I’m almost done.”

You felt disappointment settled in as his fingers pulled away from your tender skin.

He stood up and went to his drawer, opened it and pulled out a shirt.

“Here. Lift your arms a bit.”

You complied and Jeonghan carefully guided your arms through each arm hole before pulling the shirt over your head.

Jeonghan sat down on the floor in front of you, pulling up your pant leg.

“What are you doing?” You asked but didn’t pull your foot away from his warm hand where he cradled it.

“I noticed you walk with a bit of a limp.” He replied softly as he rubbed the cream into your ankle before taking another bandage and wrapping the slightly swollen joint.

He closed the jar and handed it to you.

“If you find any more bruises, rub this on them.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t.” His voice was quiet and suddenly cold.

You looked down, meeting his heavy eyes. Your ankle still rested softly in his hands making for a tense atmosphere as he held your gaze.

The expression on his face was unreadable as he carefully let you go and stood up.

Grabbing your hand he pulled you towards him, his body pressed against yours, his face inches away, his other hand holding your waist firmly against him.

Unmoving you breathed in sync as if you both had finished a complicated dance together. You felt the pounding of his heart against the pounding of yours.

“Jeonghan…”

The way you called his name made his head spin.

He let you go and backed away.

“I put the food in the refrigerator.” He said heading for the door. “You are welcome to do whatever you want here.”

“Wait! Are you leaving?” Your voice came panicked as you followed him out of his room.

“I’ve got things to do. I’ll be back tonight.” He said as you trailed behind him down the stairs.

“But Jeonghan… please.” You pleaded. Feeling too vulnerable to finish the sentence.

He turned to you this time.

“It’s okay. I’ll be back-“

You cut him off with a kiss, your arms thrown around his neck. As his shock faded, he rested his hands on your face, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

Your lips were so soft against his and when you parted your lips he found your taste to be intoxicating.

Wrapped in the moment it took him a little bit to notice that suddenly your body was shaking.

Pulling back he saw the tears rolling down your face.

As you clung to Jeonghan with all your might you couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that spilled out. Even after everything that happened he still felt so warm against you. As his arms wrapped around and pulled you close. you felt like everything would be okay.

Jeonghan held you just like that as you cried out the last couple weeks events.

In his arms your world crumbled.

So why was there nowhere else you wanted to be?

No one else you wanted to be with.

WANT MORE FROM ME?

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PART 2

[avatar-anna]

i’ve been thinking about hockeyrry lately and then i see this…. now all i can think about is hockeyrry having an argument with yn and having to do promo after a game, when all he really wants to do is find his gf and make up with cuddles and kisses :(((

this turned out to be a lot longer and not the short/cute little blurb i initially planned. enjoy more shenanigans from hockey harry and skater reader!

Hockey player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

"So, Harry, what are your thoughts on the team's performance tonight?"

You watched the screen in front of you begrudgingly, sticking your spoon in your bowl of ice cream and eating it, perhaps a little too aggressively. But you didn't change the channel, not wanting to miss a moment of Harry on camera, no matter how much he drove you crazy sometimes.

The fight had been brief, but arguments were something you and Harry were rather good at, and this one was no different. Harry ended up leaving for his game in a huff as you rolled your eyes at his back, and even though you were more than slightly pissed off, you sat down to watch his game on TV anyway.

His team won, but barely. Harry's mind was clearly elsewhere—he took more penalties than necessary and even more checks against the boards, each slam of his body against the plexiglass making you tense up. He clearly had been in two places at once, and for that, you felt guilty. Your argument wasn't inconsequential, and you intended to finish it less intensely when he came home, but now that you'd simmered a bit you regretted fighting with Harry right before he left, as it clearly affected his performance on the ice tonight.

"Obviously, we didn't play our best," Harry said into the interviewer's microphone. "I'm certainly disappointed in myself. In more ways than one."

His poor eyes were tired, bags hanging beneath them, his nose red and irritated. And his voice was hoarse too, unlike the way it normally was when he first woke up in the morning. From that to his pale skin, you could've sworn Harry had gotten sick in the few hours he'd been gone.

"How do you unwind after a game that was tough both physically and mentally like tonight?"

Harry rubbed a tired hand over his entire face. He was polite, but you could tell a post-game interview was the last place he wanted to be. "Erm, just go home. Rest, meditate, I guess."

"Meditate? You meditate? Can you walk us through that process?"

"Uh..." You watched Harry visibly deflate on camera but stay where he was. With a sniffle, he continued. "There's not much to it. Just measured breathing, peace and quiet, and going to bed early."

"Well, we won't keep you from your post-game meditation, Harry. Just one last question!"

You watched the interview wrap up and the sports channel switch over to a broadcast of a different game. Waiting for him to come home, you began to prepare for bed. You set out Harry's softest sweats and favorite crew neck, put new essential oils in the diffuser by his bed, and a new box of tissues along with a steaming mug of tea. You were almost positive he was sick, and when Harry was sick...he became something of a little baby. But he was your baby to take care of, even if you had just been arguing a few hours ago.

A little while later, the lock clicked and the sound of shuffling feet echoed through the apartment. A cough and a sniffle followed, and you could already picture his curls flopping against Harry's forehead clumsily as he rubbed his hand against his nose, the green of his eyes bright against tired redness.

"Y/n?" he called. "I'm sorry about our fight earlier. I know we left things on a sour note, but can we press pause on it for now and pick it up on it in a few days? I'm not feeling—"

"It's fine, H," you said, appearing from your bedroom. Your eyes softened as you took in his rumpled suit, the jacket slung over his arm in a heap. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming down with something?"

Harry shrugged. "I didn't know I was. It was just a little throat scratch when I left here, and then—"

He stopped to cough, and you could see him wince as if it hurt his chest. Taking the jacket and duffle bag off his shoulder, you set it down and took his hand, squeezing it as the coughing fit ended. You pulled him down the hall toward your bedroom, ignoring his questions and protests until they stopped when you finally reached the threshold.

"What's all this?" Harry asked, hooded eyes sleepily scanning everything you'd set up.

"Change. Lie down. I'll bring dinner in a few minutes."

"For me?" he said, a little smirk stretching across his face. "You never cook."

"Don't get too excited, it's canned soup," you said, feeling flustered beneath his stare all of a sudden.

You did things for Harry, of course you did. Was it a bad thing that he seemed surprised that you wanted to take care of him? A few years ago, sure, but things were different now. It was only occasionally now that you found him irritating. He was only teasing you, and honestly, you would've done the same if the roles were reversed.

Leaving Harry to change, you got started on heating up his soup. He probably should've had something more substantial than soup from a can, but you hadn't completely ruled out him having the flu yet and wanted to air on the side of caution.

Once everything was set—hot soup, a cup of tea, and some medicine all arranged on a tray—you brought it to the bedroom and set it on Harry's lap. He smiled tiredly at you, mumbling his thanks before digging in. You watched him eat, unsure of what else you should do in the meantime. Harry had asked when he came home to press pause on the argument you'd had before his game, but now you didn't know what to say, argument or otherwise. You wondered if the silence between you and him was only awkward in your mind and not his, or if he was merely hiding his frustration from earlier with you while you doted on him. You didn't want to pick up where the two of you had left off before his game, but it didn't seem right to leave things unfinished, unresolved. Harry certainly didn't seem to notice or betray his own emotions as he sipped on his tea and sniffled between bites of his dinner.

"I'll get you some more blankets."

Before he could respond, you were off the bed, shuffling down the hallway toward the closet where the extra linens were kept.

You felt like you had to keep busy. You told Harry the argument was forgotten, but you couldn't help but feel as though there were words left unspoken between the two of you. And perhaps part of you felt guilty too. The argument started out as a heated discussion, but you let your temper get the best of you, so instead of getting to the bottom of things, you ended up yelling and taunting and refusing to listen. Harry hadn't been a saint in any of it either, you both had a competitive streak, and that extended to disagreements. But this was different. You were so caught up in your frustration you didn't even notice your boyfriend was sick.

Shaking your head, you grabbed the extra blankets and went back into the bedroom.

Not saying a word, you took the tray and set it on the nightstand on Harry's side of the bed. You wrapped him up with more blankets, piling them on until only his face peeked through. Harry grinned at you, his nose and cheeks rosy and eyes only slightly drooping from fatigue. You ignored him, making sure he was properly wrapped before pressing a hand to his forehead to check for fever.

"You're fussing," Harry said, his voice only slightly teasing. "You never fuss."

"Shut up," you muttered, turning around on your heel and taking the tray out of the room.

"Don't be long!" he called, and you could practically feel the grin as you walked away.

Harry was right, of course. You were fussing. Perhaps you were trying to make up for the things you said earlier, for picking a fight with him when you knew he had to leave for his game, though that had been precisely the problem.

Proud didn't even begin to cover how you felt regarding his career. Harry worked so hard, had come so far in such a short period. In what felt like a quick few years, he had become a superstar on the ice, taking the NHL by storm and absolutely dominating his competition. Harry deserved every bit of praise from reporters and journalists, every standing ovation from adoring fans, every interaction from young hockey players who looked up to him. No one deserved it more than Harry, but the bigger he became, the more famous he got, it seemed as though he had less and less time for you.

You knew that being in a relationship with him wouldn't be a walk in the park, you were familiar with the traveling and the long seasons and everything else that came with being in a semi-long distance relationship with an athlete. You and Harry had been together since college, you'd done it and survived it, but this...this was completely different.

The minor leagues were manageable. Harry had a busier schedule than he did in school, but the two of you made it work. When he made it to the NHL, you realized that busy didn't even begin to cover it. Press conferences before games, interviews after games, sponsorship deals, longer seasons, charity games, international tournaments—all of it was one big whirlwind that hit your relationship before you could blink. And you would've been able to withstand all of it if you could see him just a little bit more.

That had been the crux of your argument. You hadn't planned on fighting with Harry about it while he was on his way out to get to the arena, but he'd mentioned being home late to do a couple extra interviews, and you just couldn't hold it in anymore.

Returning to your bedroom, you started getting ready for bed. A freshly washed face, brushed teeth, and one of Harry's old university sweatshirts later, and you were sliding into your side, back facing Harry. You could feel him, feel the heat of all those blankets you'd wrapped around him. But you could feel the heavy weight of his stare too, as if he was wordlessly trying to get you to turn around.

"I'm sensing this is some form of punishment," he said. His voice didn't sound as scratchy as it had been when he came home, which you took as a good sign.

"What is?" you asked.

"You wrapping me like a burrito. I can't hold you like this."

You smiled, the image of him frowning down at the plethora of blankets you swaddled him in appearing in your mind.

"You were shivering."

"Was I? I can't recall," Harry said. "I feel like I'm in a furnace now, though."

"That's good. Your fever probably broke."

"You know, as much as I love talking to the back of your lovely head, I'd appreciate it a lot more if I could talk to your even lovelier face."

Taking your time, you rolled over, making sure he saw the amusement on your face. The grin on his own merely brightened, and you hoped he didn't notice you blush.

"Flattery won't get you out of those blankets, Styles," you finally said.

"No, but maybe it'll get you in them with me, soon-to-be-Styles."

Your hand went reflexively to your left hand to fiddle with your engagement ring. You hadn't had it long, but fiddling with it quickly became a habit you intended to keep. The proposal had been a surprise, but it felt right at the same time, as if without really needing to say it, you and Harry were both ready to take that next step. And you couldn't lie, Harry had done an immaculate job with the ring even though you'd never really mentioned what you might be interested in. It was emerald cut, a classic in your opinion, but a light green sapphire instead of a diamond in the middle. "I don't know, you mentioned something about blood diamonds a few months ago and thought you might appreciate something different," Harry had said by way of explanation.

You used to find it annoying—frustrating, even—how much Harry seemed to know you, but the night he proposed—at home after spending a whole afternoon together that he'd planned from start to finish—you thought he was nothing short of perfect.

"Are we okay?" you asked out of the blue, though not really. Thinking about the proposal, the wedding, made you realize that maybe you shouldn't go to bed with an unresolved argument with your fiance.

Harry sighed. "I hope so. I'm sorry. I should've realized how lonely you've been lately. I know this...lifestyle...isn't always the easiest to live with."

You shook your head. "I shouldn't have unloaded on you right before you left. I know how important it is to have a clear head before a game."

"You're important to me, Y/n," he said. Harry struggled for a moment as he tried to free an arm from his blanket cocoon, muttering to himself about your hidden talent for blanket wrapping. You let out a watery laugh as you watched him struggle, then helped him peel the blankets back until he was entirely free. Sitting up, Harry pulled you to him, his hand cupping your cheek. "Now, where were we?"

"Allegedly, I'm important to you," you said, the corner of your mouth tipping up.

"Glad you're in higher spirits," Harry murmured, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. His eyes flitted over your face as if he could read everything you weren't saying, and you were sure he did. He had a knack for that kind of thing. "I should know how much time I've been taking away from you. From us. I'm sorry."

"I know you don't have much control over your game schedule, but I just feel like never see you anymore. I just want—I just want more time with you, that's all. I'm sorry it came out the way it did."

Harry shook his head, used to your tendency to hold your feelings in until they barreled out of you. It was something you were working on, you were only thankful Harry stuck around long enough until you figured it out.

"I know you are. I'm glad you told me, though. Or yelled it at me."

Face flushing, you said, "Sorry. I'm...working on it."

"I know," Harry said, chuckling as he kissed your cheek. "But I don't mind. I love fighting with you."

"I'm so glad," you mumbled.

Laying Harry back down across the bed, you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his cheek and his neck, his skin warm but not feverish. The skin of his cheek was soft against your lips, making you nuzzle your nose deeper into him. Your legs tangled with his as Harry nestled deeper into your arms. Easing up just a little, you leaned back enough to run a hand through his hair, making sure your nails scratched against his scalp the way he liked it.

"Mm. This is almost better than makeup sex," he murmured.

Leaning forward, you nipped at the shell of Harry's ear. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Hey. I said almost."

You chuckled quietly in his ear before placing another little kiss to his temple. Nudging him with his nose one more time, you said, "Maybe after the playoff season is over, we can go somewhere. Somewhere warm. Maybe even tropical. You can take some time off once the season is officially over, right?"

"I do love seeing you in a bikini—Ow! What? You want me to lie?" Harry said, crying out when you pinched his side.

"You're such a guy sometimes, I swear," you grumbled.

Harry's face split into a grin, and you could feel it as you kept nuzzling his cheek. "So I find my fiance attractive. Since when is that a crime?"

"Someone's feeling better all of a sudden." You began to untangle yourself from Harry, but he held you in place. When you tried to wriggle away from him, he held you in place, wrapping around you like moss on a limb until he had you pinned to the mattress.

"Don't act like you don't like it," he said. "Or that you don't think the same things about me."

"Aren't you sick? Go to sleep!" you said, trying not to smile as he began to kiss you all over just like you'd been doing to him.

"Admit it or you're not getting a vacation," he taunted, his kisses along your neck becoming longer, more languid.

Oh, I'll be getting my vacation, you thought. Whether you played into Harry's hands tonight or not, you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

When Harry raised his head and his gaze finally met yours, you raised a single brow. "Oh, don't give me that look, princess. I don't scare that easily, you know that," he said, though when your brow arched just a little bit higher, he sighed and pressed one last kiss to your forehead. "Fine then. I guess I'll just have to live with the fact that I find you more attractive than you do me."

"Oh brother," you groaned as you leaned across Harry to turn the lamp on his nightstand off.

Harry's only response was a very pointed sniff into the dark, which made you roll your eyes.

It was quiet as the both of you settled down. It was clear Harry expended the little energy he had, as the sniffles and coughs came back a few minutes after you turned the lights off. Shuffling back over to him, you snuck a hand under his shirt and began running it gently up and down his back. Once again carding your other hand through his hair, you felt him relax a little.

You exhaled deeply, settling in close to Harry and cuddling into the warmth of his body. "Get some rest, H," you murmured, your hand still moving steadily along his back.

You stayed awake until Harry's breaths evened and slowed as he began to snore softly. Your own eyes began to droop, comforted by your fiance's closeness and the resolution you'd been seeking since he'd stormed out of the house earlier today.

It could be worse, you supposed. Of all the people in the world to argue with, you were happy Harry was the one. If this was the outcome every time—minus Harry's illness, of course—you couldn't help but look forward to the rest of your life with him.

[tickly-trashcan]

Rebuilding {Optimus Prime and Megatron}

A/N: GAAH I couldn't decide which continuity this was HAHA I've only watched tfone and tfp so far hehe so we can say this is a way later version of tfone maybe?? yeahhh tfone sounds good... i literally wrote this last night and finished it this morning bc Optimus was on my MINDDD i could not get him out so i decided to torment him instead! there is also def some hinted megaop but i didnt want to fully commit to it haha but its def megaop bc im trash ANYWAYS ENJOY

Summary: Megatron and Optimus Prime are finally working together again to rebuild Cybertron. However, Optimus is a little bit distracted by something, and it is slowly beginning to annoy Megatron.

Word Count: 1.7k (under the cut!)

“Prime, are you listening to me?” Megatron asked, putting a hand on his hip as Optimus Prime stared out the window of the ship.

“Hmm? Oh– Yes, I am,” Optimus replied quietly as he turned to face Megatron, still zoned out.

Megatron narrowed his optics at Optimus, but continued regardless. “As I was saying, now that we’re rebuilding, I think we should initially focus on– Prime.”

Optimus continued to stare out the window, not noticing Megatron. He soon picked up on the fact that Megatron was no longer talking and looked at him again, his finials dipping slightly as he became aware of Megatron’s annoyance.

“I– Sorry… My mind is in a lot of places…”

“It should be here. I’m not going to waste my breath talking if you aren’t going to listen.”

Optimus nodded, quickly glancing out the window once more before turning back to Megatron. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s just– It doesn’t feel real.”

Megatron raised his optical ridge. “What doesn’t? The fact that our war has finally ended, or the fact that we’re going to rebuild Cybertron?”

Optimus shook his helm and then chuckled. “Well, I suppose both of those don’t quite feel real either… But I was talking about you.”

Megatron hesitantly took the seat next to Optimus, waiting to see if he would shy away from him or if he would try to move. When he did neither, Megatron relaxed slightly into the seat, watching Optimus with earnestness as he waited for him to continue.

“It doesn’t feel real… finally being back with you. As friends, I mean…”

Optimus’ finials were dipping even more, as if Megatron’s silence was negating what he had said about their friendship.

Megatron sighed. “We used to be more than just friends, Prime. But… I will admit, it is strange having to rebuild more than just Cybertron.” Megatron leaned back, letting his arm settle across Optimus’ shoulders, making him stiffen. Megatron did not pull away. “We– I have so much more to rebuild. I have to rebuild myself, I have to rebuild your trust… I have to rebuild us.”

Optimus could not help when his finials perked up at Megatron mentioning the two of them. “I have plenty of rebuilding to do as well, Megatron. You won’t be the only one needing to rebuild things… And I promise I will be with you every step of the way.”

Megatron smiled at that. Optimus let himself relax in Megatron’s arm, his finials moving happily.

Megatron chuckled as he took notice of his dancing finials. “You never did change that habit, did you now? Even as a Prime, you’re still the same bot I knew all those cycles ago.”

Megatron traced Optimus’ finial gently, making him gasp sharply and flinch away from his touch. Optimus brought a servo up to his finial, his faceplate heating, and looked at Megatron with an embarrassed look on his face. Megatron did not move, as if he was afraid that he had hurt Optimus.

Optimus chuckled awkwardly, his laugh signifying that Megatron had not harmed him. “Sorry… My finials are– Well, they’re sensitive.”

Megatron nodded his helm slowly and looked down. A small grin began to creep up his face as he realized what Optimus had told him, however, and he turned his helm back to grin mischievously at Optimus.

“Prime…” Megatron started, looking at Optimus’ finials that were twitching slightly in anticipation of what was likely to come. “Can you tell me exactly what you mean by sensitive? If I recall, there was a certain… sensitivity that you had all those cycles ago, if I’m not mistaken.”

Optimus leaned back slightly, but did not have very much space to lean into. He was up against the window, the table in front of him, in the seat with Megatron beside him… There was nowhere he could go.

Optimus cleared his intake and sat up a bit, trying to hide his growing nervousness. “They’re just… a bit ticklish, is all. Now, what were you saying earlier about rebuilding?”

Megatron nodded his helm slowly and drew his servo up close to his face, as if he were inspecting his digits. “Ah, yes, rebuilding… We must begin by rebuilding Cybertron, and I think that we should begin by focusing on supplying energon.”

Optimus relaxed a bit, thinking that he had successfully diverted Megatron’s attention. Optimus felt Megatron’s arm shift behind him, but thought nothing of it until he felt another gentle swipe to his finial, making him jolt and gasp.

“Megatron!”

“Are you still not listening to me, Prime? I already told you, I’m not going to talk if you won’t listen.”

Despite his tone, Megatron has a sly grin on his face. Optimus knew he was messing with him, and he would not rise to the bait. Optimus folded his arms and leaned back in the seat, into Megatron’s arm, and motioned for him to continue.

As Megatron talked, Optimus did his best to listen, but the way Megatron would gesture with his servo made him constantly anticipate another ticklish sensation on his finial. He could not see Megatron’s other servo, so he did not know when he would do it, and it made it so much more difficult to retain what Megatron was saying.

Suddenly, there was another touch to his finial, but it did not go away after just one swipe. Optimus flinched at the initial touch, then began to fight back shaky giggles as the touch continued, light and ticklish. Megatron toyed with his finial gently, tracing up and down while Optimus shook with contained laughter.

Megatron raised his optical ridge. “Is something the matter, Prime?”

“N-noho…” Optimus barely managed to get out.

Megatron hummed. “Then would you mind repeating what I was just talking about? Paraphrase if you must…”

Optimus fidgeted slightly, trying to remember, but Megatron’s digit was still toying with his finial and Primus it tickled so bad and he could not recall any bit of what Megatron had said. Optimus let out a shaky breath and swatted Megatron’s servo away.

“I cahan’t– I can’t seem to recall,” Optimus said softly.

Megatron sighed, loudly and almost dramatically. “You are a truly terrible listener, Prime.”

Optimus huffed. He knew that Megatron was teasing him, but there was some part of him that was enjoying it. It felt like old times, and it made Optimus feel a strange sense of comfort. “Well, I wouldn’t be as distracted if someone wasn’t tickling me every five seconds.”

Megatron did not bother hiding his grin at this point. “Oh? Are you suggesting that I’m the cause of your distraction? Prime, I thought we were rebuilding our trust.”

Optimus rolled his optics and shook his helm. He was about to say something back, but Megatron was back to tickling his finial, cutting Optimus off as he fought back a laugh.

“Are you laughing at me now?”

“You’re tickling mehehe!”

“Am I now? I didn’t notice…” Megatron drawled, teasing Optimus’ finial with two digits as Optimus shook while trying to contain his giggles. “Hmm… I can’t help but wonder if you’re still as ticklish elsewhere…”

“Mehegatron, don’t you dahare–!”

Optimus hardly had a chance to do anything before Megatron was on him, prodding and scribbling his digits along Optimus’ chassis as he fell back in the seat, laughter almost instantly bubbling from his intake.

“Mehehehgatron! Nohoho, not thehehere!!” Optimus wailed, trying to push Megatron’s servos away from his hips.

Megatron laughed with Optimus, amused that his old friend was still just as ticklish as he remembered. “You really haven’t changed at all, have you?”

“Why wohohould I chahahange– WAhahaaa! Mehegatron, plehehease! Not thehehere!!”

Optimus was sent into a fit of frantic laughter when Megatron’s servos managed to creep up under his arms, finding the seams that he recalled drove Optimus up the wall. Megatron’s memory served him well, and he was met with the exact reaction he had anticipated as Optimus clamped his arms down as much as he could and kicked his pedes behind him.

“This is still your best spot, isn’t it? Although, I never knew about your finials back then… Maybe we should compare?”

“Mahahaybe we– Maybe we shohohouldn’t!!” Optimus wheezed, shaking his helm in an attempt to keep Megatron’s servos away. It worked slightly, but Megatron did still get a few swipes at his finials, making Optimus squeak whenever his digits made contact with them.

After a few more attempts, Megatron eventually retreated his servos back to the seams under Optimus’ arms, making him throw his helm back and laugh. He squeezed his optics shut, squirming uselessly beneath Megatron as he laughed.

Optimus gasped sharply when Megatron pulled one of his arms above him. Optimus shook his helm, his optics wide as he kept giggling.

Megatron grinned deviously. “Finials or seams?”

Optimus blinked. “Whahahat?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself again, Prime.” Optimus tried to tug his arm away and Megatron hummed. “Finials it is, then.”

“No!”

“No? Then you’d prefer the seams?”

Optimus stammered, his words coming out like static as he tried to form a coherent sentence. “I– No, I mean– Well–”

“If you don’t choose, I’ll choose for you…”

“I can’t choose!” Optimus nearly whined, shaking his helm.

Megatron raised his optical ridge and smirked. “You can’t, hmm? Well, then…” He leaned forward until he was just a few inches from Optimus’ face, making him giggle nervously. Megatron had a sly smirk on his face as he contemplated. “I think I’ll choose… both.”

“What–!”

Optimus could barely register what Megatron was planning before it was too late. He quickly dissolved into more bubbly laughter when Megatron skittered his digits along the seams under his arms, then gasped when he felt Megatron toy with his finials. He went back and forth, never letting Optimus fully get used to either sensation, and it made him a frantic, laughing mess by the time Megatron finally decided to let up.

“Y-you… That was– Ugh…” Optimus could not even formulate a proper insult or claim or anything. All that he ended up with was a few residual giggles and a tingly sensation that would not leave his seams or his finials as Megatron sat up.

“Fun? For me, it was indeed fun… I missed you, Orion.”

Optimus’ finials perked up at his old name. He had not been called that in so long, not ever since…

“I missed you too, Dee.”

Megatron smiled softly and held up his servo for Optimus, who sat up and hit it with his own. As soon as Optimus had seemingly recovered, Megatron continued his plan, and this time, Optimus found his mind could not wander to any thought other than the bot right in front of him.

[merrybloomwrites]

When The Wolves Come Out (Chapter 3)

Story Summary: When Y/N gets hired to play drums for One Direction, the last thing she expects is to find herself as part of their pack. Especially since it seems that they don’t want her there. Only time will tell if they’ll accept her, or if the omega will have to deal with rejection from the others.

Chapter Summary: Throughout rehearsals and the start of tour, the boys continue to keep their distance from Y/N, leading to her developing touch deprivation.

Previous chapters: One , Two

Word Count: 1.9K

Tags/CW: omega verse, omega reader, alpha Harry, alpha Zayn, alpha Louis, beta Niall, beta Liam, poly, cat calling, touch deprivation

AN: Normally I write longer chapters (like 3k-6K words) but I’m enjoying these shorter quicker chapters for this series. Feels like it works better, plus there’s less waiting time between posting, which I know I enjoy as a reader haha

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The beeping of your alarm slowly wakes you up, and you get ready hoping that today will be better than yesterday. It’s your first official rehearsal with the band, and you hope to win over the others by being able to show off your skill. If yesterday's meeting is anything to go by, you won’t be winning them over by your charming personality. Not when they’re apparently so determined to not let anyone get close to them. 

Just before leaving you pick up your bottle of scent neutralizers, about to methodically put them on before remembering the rules Simon had for you. He told you not to wear blockers, that they should always be able to pick up on your floral omega scent. You don’t really like this, as it makes you feel vulnerable, especially in a city you’re unfamiliar with, but you follow the rule anyway. 

The rehearsal space is a bit farther than the offices were, so you leave early to make sure you give yourself enough time to walk there. A wrong turn takes you down an alley that leads to a side street. Checking your map app shows this will get you where you need to be, so you follow it rather than turning around. 

The main street had been loud and filled with people, most probably on their morning commute. But this way is quiet, practically deserted. You nearly jump out of your skin when a voice shouts out, “Hey pretty thing!”

Turning around you see a man behind you. You can get just a whiff of his scent but it’s enough to know he’s an alpha. Internally cursing yourself for taking a back road, you start walking faster. 

The footsteps behind you grow louder, and you know that the man has picked up his pace to get closer to you. Now panicking, you start jogging down the road. You just need to get to the end of the street so you can turn back to the busier part of the city and you’ll be safe. 

Just as you get there he seems to admit defeat, and angrily shouts out, “You shouldn’t be wandering all alone with a sweet scent like that!” 

Doing your best to ignore that comment, you finish your walk and arrive at the rehearsal space. You try to compose yourself, but you’re still shaky, and you know your scent has probably turned a bit sour from the fear you’d just been feeling. 

After taking some deep breaths you walk into the room. Niall, Louis, Harry, Zayn, and Liam are all there, and they turn to look at you. After quick good mornings they go back to what they’d been doing. Not wanting to bother anyone, you head to the drums and take out the music you’d been sent. 

As you flip through the pages, you sense eyes on you. Looking up you see Louis staring your way, his eyes calculating, even a little bit worried. Like he can sense something is wrong. Maybe he does have some alpha instincts in him. But instead of coming over to check if you’re okay, he simply shrugs and goes to talk with Niall. 

Finally the rest of the band and the music director arrive and it’s time to actually get to work. It’s a bit chaotic at first, but it doesn’t take long for everyone to click. By the time you break for lunch, any negative feelings have gone away, replaced now by excitement. 

You grab food and sit at one of the tables, soon being joined by the boys. At first you think this is an improvement in your friendship with them. But then they start talking among themselves, barely acknowledging that you’re there. 

Rehearsals last a few more hours, and everyone’s ready to head home by the time you’re dismissed. As you head outside you’re surprised by Zayn saying, “Good work today.”

“Yea, you’re really talented,” Harry adds. 

“Glad you’re on the team,” Louis then says before all five of them get into their car. 

While walking home you think about that interaction. The words were nice, even if they seemed almost reluctant to say them. Sighing to yourself, you accept that for now, you’re looking at an amicable working relationship at best. 

You just hope Simon can accept that as well. 

Weeks pass in a flurry of planning, rehearsing, fittings, and numerous meetings to make sure everything is ready for the upcoming tour. 

A few days before setting out, Louis gets called in to meet with Simon once again. 

“Y/N will be joining you on your bus,” he states with no preamble. 

“Excuse me?” Louis says, shocked by this news. 

“She’s an omega. She’ll need to be close to alphas while touring.”

“She’s an omega. What if she slips into heat? Or one of us goes into rut? It’s not safe!”

“You know that won’t happen,” Simon answers. “You’re all on the best suppressants, not a chance you’ll fall into a cycle unexpectedly. You just don't want her around, and to be honest, I'm disappointed in you boys. You’ve rejected her since she got here, pushed her away, ostracized her.”

“We didn’t ask for her to be here. She’s a great drummer, and we respect her as a musician. But as we said before, she isn’t going to just push her way into our pack.”

“And as I’ve said before, you cannot be a pack without her. She will be on your bus. Maybe the time together will open your mind.”

Louis leaves that day feeling frustrated, like his words don’t matter. He gets home and shares the news with the rest. 

“I don’t like this,” Zayn says. 

“Seems like a bad idea,” Harry agrees. 

“What if having her around triggers one of your ruts?” Liam asks nervously. 

“I said that to Simon, he said it won’t happen cause of our meds,” Louis replies, clearly still agitated from the meeting. Niall moves close to him, tucking to the alphas side in an attempt to comfort and calm him. It helps, but Louis suddenly thinks that it might be nice to have the true calming pheromones of an omega when he’s upset. 

He shakes away the thought a moment later and instead enjoys a night with his pack. 

He manages to put the news of their bus mate out of his mind for the following days, but as they load up to get on the road there’s no denying it. 

“D’ya think you could wear some scent blockers?” Louis asks you the first night. 

“Not allowed,” you reply curtly. 

“What do you mean not allowed?” Harry asks. 

“I mean that Simon told me I can’t wear them. It’s one of my rules.”

“He’s such a wanker,” you hear Zayn say under his breath. 

Not wanting to cause any problems, you get into your bunk and try to sleep. Even with all the stress you’re feeling, the familiar lull of the bus driving down the highway helps you fall asleep in minutes. 

The next morning is tense, and you can feel the boys' annoyance at your presence. The logical human part of you knows it must be difficult to have someone new, especially someone with a strong scent, invade their bus. The omega part of you is less understanding. It’s on edge, upset at the rejection of the others. 

Luckily you arrive at the first venue, and you no longer have to worry about your dynamic with the others. Now it’s time to just worry about your job, about putting on a perfect show for the fans. 

And that’s just what all of you do. Opening night is a success, and everyone heads back to the bus on a high. You’re even invited to hang with them in the lounge as everyone comes down from the adrenaline of performing. 

For a little while, everything feels right. But then it shifts once more and you find yourself being pushed out of the conversation again. Not only that, but you watch as the boys huddle closer together. Liam rests his head on Louis’ chest, and Niall finds himself sandwiched between Zayn and Harry. The betas look perfectly content, and your omega cries out for that kind of affection. 

Not wanting to broadcast your feelings to the others, you rush out a good night and head to your bunk. You spray scent neutralizers on the curtain that separates you from the rest of the bus, hoping it will block your scent from getting out. 

More than that, you don’t want the boys knowing about the scented clothes from your former pack mates. You still have a couple from both Kevin and Joe, and you pull out one shirt from each of them. You place them by your pillow so their scent will be close to you. It’s a sad imitation of a nest, but it’s the best you can do. 

As weeks pass you start feeling drained. You write it off as exhaustion from the constant work and travel. But then you start to get shaky, cold, itchy, not to mention the headaches that seem to get worse daily. 

The European leg of tour ends, and you all spend a few weeks in South America for a run of shows there. After the first few days you finally admit that you’re experiencing touch deprivation. It shocks you, since you’re constantly surrounded by alphas. Their scents around you should be enough to keep this all at bay. 

But their constant rejection of you must be distressing your omega more than you’d realized. It’s never that they did anything major. They were never mean, or rude. They included you at mealtimes, would check in and see how you were doing. But it was always them just being polite. 

You’d also learned the dynamic between the five of them was deeper than you originally thought. On numerous occasions you’d walked in on them being physically intimate with each other. You’d seen duos, trios, even walked in on all five of them on the floor together sharing kisses. 

Even though you hadn’t expected that, it didn’t bother you. Part of you was happy for them, glad they had one another, and that they all seemed to have a healthy relationship. 

The part that did bother you was the jealousy you felt. You wanted that type of intimacy as well. Every time you watched the alphas dote on Niall or Liam, you’d feel another pang of jealousy rip through you. It’s not like you were looking for a relationship, but seeing how happy they were, it felt like they were rubbing it in your face. 

Plus the pheromones. They were overwhelming. Especially whenever the boys would get intimate. That always led to you hiding in your bunk and breaking the no scent blockers rule. Anything to prevent the others from picking up on the sweet smell of your slick. 

As the symptoms of touch deprivation worsen, you count down the days until your first US show. It’s at MetLife Stadium, and you consider it your hometown show. Your family and previous pack members will be there to support you. If you can just make it to New Jersey, you can spend time with Kevin and Joe. Hopefully being around the alphas will help with the depri. 

And hopefully your bandmates will accept you as one of their own before it’s too late.

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AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one should see the dynamic between reader and the band starting to shift, which I’m excited for!

[purplekiwis]

𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆

Summary: While they're on opposite ends of the social spectrum, Y/N and Harry have been the closest of friends for years. But could it be that an all-night working session for a science project helps them break out of the friendzone?

Genre: Friends to Lovers | Nerd!Harry x Badgirl!Y/N

Warnings: SMUT | Self-Deprication | This is coming-of-age story. There's no mention of their age but both characters are in their last year of high school (just a heads up in case someone doesn't want to read because of that)

Wordcount: 10k

A/N: ok y'all, so i have made a mistake.

i was like 99% sure there was a request in my inbox asking for a blurb where harry was nerdy? i found it interesting so i started working on it... only to realize halfway into things that that was not in fact what was written in the request 😅

i figured i might as well post it anyways since i wrote it but yeah... i'm sorry, anon! i (now) know you wanted subby!harry, but all i have to give you is nerd!harry (don't worry, i made him a lil subby just for you 🤫)

also, before y'all flood my inbox with asks about the non finished fics (rightfully so) i hear you and i'm very, very sorry for the lack of updates. i had to take a break because i kept feeling like the texts i could come up with weren't good enough for the stories i wanted to tell. i still partly feel that way, but i'm hoping the lack of real harry content will inspire me to write more in the near future. thank you for reading my dumb little stories, i love you 💖

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Harry was never too fond of grocery shopping.

He really didn’t like the whole “put things inside the cart, remove things from the cart at the cashier, bag them, put them back into the cart, get them in the car, take them out of the car, bring them inside and put them away” process.

It was extremely inconvenient to him.

It was also very time-consuming, though Harry believed this particular belief of his was directly influenced by having to grocery shop with his grandparents every other day.

Naturally, they were slower than he was, so he'd just drag his feet behind them, push the cart and wait for them to ask him to grab something from the shelves that their aging pains no longer allowed them to reach.

That part was fine, what bore him the most was how easily they got sidetracked by trinkets that weren’t on the shopping list. Oh! And how they always managed to locate a random old person they knew from God knows where who engaged them in talks that appeared to stretch for hours.

Harry would try and make up reasons not to go with them sometimes, but he always felt a little guilty about it afterwards. After all, it was a very small favor for him to help his grandparents with their groceries, considering they had been the ones to provide him with a loving home after his parents failed to do so.

People always seemed to feel sorry for him when they found out he'd grown up without his “real parents” around, but he'd never had reasons to complain, really. Unlike his parents, Joe and Martha had always treated him nicely and made him feel genuinely loved.

They were a little overprotective at times, but like Y/N always said, that was probably because they watched too much TV.

Speaking of Y/N, Harry didn't hate grocery shopping with her so much. He even kind of enjoyed it as long as the space wasn't too crowded. That day it wasn’t, which he was extremely thankful for because it reduced the chances of them bumping into any familiar faces who might ask about his grandparents, or if the girl he was with was his girlfriend.

That’s another thing he detested about running into people his grandparents were friends with - they loved to pester him with indiscreet questions about his love life that made him go red-faced. It was even worse when he happened to be with Y/N during those times; fortunately, she was always a bit clueless about it. Harry guessed that the reason for that was that she was so comfortable with their friendship that she wasn't even aware of what was going on… even if she thought it a little odd that he kept introducing her as his neighbor even though they weren't neighbors anymore.

Despite the fact that they no longer lived next door to each other, Y/N was still a frequent visitor at Harry’s house. Ever since his family relocated to a different area of the city, it had become custom for her to spend the night whenever the two had group projects to do.

Their journey was always the same. As they got off the bus from school, they would head to the supermarket to stock up on frozen pizzas and late-night goodies to help them through the long hours they’d be spending working on their computers.

That day was no different. They'd just grabbed their pizzas, and were now wandering around the drinks aisle looking at the options.

“Do you think your grandma would notice if we hid one of these in your backpack?” Asked the ex-neighbor, Y/N. The smile on her face got him figuring she was up to no good… even before he noticed the bottle of whatever alcoholic beverage she was holding.

The idea startled him a little more than he'd like to admit. “Don’t start! And put it back before anyone sees you.”

The way his body jumped made Y/N laugh as she set the bottle back on its shelf. “Relax, okay? I was only messing with you... I knew you'd be too chicken to do it. But just so you know, they don't even ask for an ID most times.”

He replied to her with a headshake. “You're not as cool as you think just because you get drunk with your friends every once in a while.” She didn’t seem too pleased by his remark, but Harry figured that by now she ought to know he didn't mean most of what he said when he was annoyed. “You can get an iced tea… or a pepsi… or that weird-flavored soda you like.”

“Fine.”

Harry noticed that even after he allowed her to pick her favorite drink, Y/N still didn't seem particularly happy with him. She trailed behind him in silence while he pushed the cart around and didn't even appear to care when they walked past the shelf where her usual go-to snack was.

“Did you know that statistically, people who start drinking in their teens have a 5 times higher likelihood of becoming alcoholics than those who only start later?” Harry knew it probably wasn't the best conversation topic to get her to talk to him, but it was the only thing that came to his mind in the moment.

“Did you know that stating facts like that makes you look 1000 times more of a nerd than you already are?”

Harry snorted at her retort. “You didn't seem to mind me being a nerd when you asked me to work on the paper with you.”

“I do every paper with you, why should this be any different?”

He smirked at that. It was true. He and Y/N had attended every academic year together since they first met in elementary school, and they had managed to enroll in almost all of the same classes each time. They were currently in their senior year of high school, and their friendship was still pretty solid despite their different personalities and social interests.

Y/N was in the midst of a rebellious phase. In the beginning it all had been quite harmless, with her obsession with dyeing the ends of her hair crazy colors and pairing fishnets with knee socks. That somehow led her into starting to hang out with people Harry considered to be a little unnerving.

He wasn't sure what exactly made him annoyed about them... Maybe it was because he was a little resentful over having to “compete” for Y/N's attention and feared he would one day completely lose her to them, given that they were undoubtedly the cooler part of the equation. Perhaps part of it was also because those people reminded him of the kind who used to bully him for being a dork when he was younger. Thankfully, he wasn't being bullied as much anymore, but he still didn't have many friends.

He also barely interacted with girls, as one might expect. There were times he had crushes, but he was always afraid to talk to them, so things never really went anywhere. Thus, Y/N was really Harry's only female friend.

He confesses sometimes he was surprised she still wanted to hang out with him as much as she did. When she became popular, Harry naturally assumed she would ditch him for social status reasons, but that never happened, which was a big relief to him since he liked having her around.

They were both geeky, so they watched a lot of movies and played video games together... but when it came to other things, they were a little different. Y/N had a much better sense of style, was much more social, and enjoyed doing dumb things like smoking weed and getting drunk behind her parents’ backs.

Harry had never really understood the appeal of it. In fact, his lack of interest in participating in that stuff sometimes worried him a bit, but again... it wasn’t like he wasn’t curious.

There were a few times when he thought it would be cool if he could hang out with Y/N and her friends, go out drinking, dance, and maybe, just maybe, if he was very very lucky, even get to kiss someone on the mouth.

But then he always ended up reasoning that people like him weren't welcome at parties and that if he ever dared to step foot into one he'd probably end up being the butt of everyone’s jokes.

Even knowing so, he couldn't help fantasizing about it… especially the last part. Yes, Harry definitely thought about intimacy a lot more than he'd ever be willing to admit… and he also pondered a lot about how being practically invisible to girls sucked… and about how much he wished one would give him a chance.

He was aware of his issues, however. He knew he wasn’t exactly the hottest guy around. His haircut and clothing were out of style, mostly because he lacked the confidence to mess with his looks and follow the trends the way other people did. He’d buy new t-shirts sometimes; the only thing was that they almost always had gaming-related designs which obviously didn't do his style much good.

But it wasn’t all bad. Harry knew he had nice eyes… he just couldn't get the girls to come close enough to notice them. He figured the way he stared at the floor when he walked, along with the thick glasses he had been wearing since childhood had also taken part in preventing people from noticing how green his eyes were.

He thought Y/N had nice eyes as well, and he liked the way she accentuated them with make-up… even when her eyeliner turned out a little uneven or got smudgy because she forgot she had it on and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.

She'd been doing that a lot in the last hour they'd been working on their paper, which was making Harry feel a little bad.

Normally, by that time in the evening Y/N would already be working on her part, but as they'd started later than usual, she wasn't. Also, being the control freak he was, Harry always wanted to be the one in charge of the research portion of any papers they worked on. Leaving the final task of writing and flourishing to Y/N.

So the poor girl had been sitting next to him for hours, watching him go through articles on his laptop.

Harry could tell by the increased frequency of her yawns that her battery was running low, so he wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard her hesitantly ask, “Are you planning on staying up much longer? Aren’t you getting tired?”

“Um… not really. I found this really cool essay and want to make sure we gather all of their data.” He was so preoccupied with copying and pasting that he didn't even look away from the screen as he replied to the question. “It's a shame we don’t have any hot springs nearby... wouldn't it be cool if we could collect samples of these microbes and study them in the school lab?”

“Are you for real?” She looked at him like he was crazy as she let her back slide halfway down the bedframe. “Do you really find these stupid water microbes that interesting?”

“Not all of them, it’s just that I’d never considered that there could be some growing and thriving in actual boiling water… since, you know, that’s what’s supposed to kill them.” Due to the silence that followed, Harry realized that despite Y/N's efforts to keep him company, she was moments away from falling asleep. “Should I go get the air mattress to make your bed?”

“I can't sleep. I haven't done my part yet.”

“It's fine; we still have the entire day tomorrow to finish.”

“Don't bother with me if you’re focused on the paper. I just need to close my eyes for a bit, but I won’t fall asleep.” She promised, but Harry knew better than to believe her. “Do you mind if use your covers? Your room’s a bit chilly.”

“No, not at all.” He didn't mind it, in fact, he even found it a little exciting. Not in a pervy way, but it felt good to know that a good looking girl would be using his bed and leaving her girly scent on it. Harry tried not to dwell on those kinds of thoughts over Y/N too much, but of course he thought she was hot. He wasn’t that blind.

He hadn't always felt that way. For a long while Harry just thought of her as his best friend, but she'd grown into her curves in the last couple of years and he would be lying if he said his eyes and mind didn't occasionally wander. He felt a little bad about it, but it wasn't like he was ever going to do anything other than fantasize, so he supposed it was alright… as long as she didn’t catch on.

Truth be told, he’d always liked Y/N’s personality, but as of recently her looks and the way she dressed had also made her the type of girl he was attracted to on the outside. Yes, it was always the girls who wore alternative clothing and scowled a lot that caught his eye.

He was aware that his preference sounded extremely stereotypical coming from a shy loser like him, but it wasn’t like he could help what he was keen on.

“Is the entire chapter on Volcanic Islands really necessary?” She asked, leaning further into him so she could see the laptop screen despite being laid down.

“I'm not sure if it's necessary, but I thought we should at least mention these two islands since they keep coming up.” He could feel her sigh of defeat on his arm. “It’s already halfway done. I've already gotten all the info about Iceland… now all that's left is this tiny archipelago in Portugal.” With that, he rushed to type the final location on the Google search bar but was taken aback by Y/N's chuckling. “What are you laughing at?”

“Do you not know how to delete your browsing history?” She asked him, still laughing.

Harry's brows furrowed slightly, but he smiled along. “Huh, why? Seriously random that.”

“Random, really? I may only be half awake, but I can still see.”

“See what?”

“See Pornhub come up on your suggestions when you started typing Portugal.” Harry's face dropped instantly. Then, with a harsh slam, he shut his laptop lid. He could feel his entire body tensing up as a burning wave swept across his face, hotter than he'd ever felt before. “Harry, relax!” Y/N remarked when she saw him like that. She seemed rather worried about it as she clung to his arm and shook it. “Hey, look at me, this isn’t a bad thing. You don't have to-”

Before she could say anything else, Harry covered his face with his sheets and muttered, “Yes it is. It’s embarrassing.” Honestly, even that felt like a tame word to describe how he was feeling. This was, hands down, one of the most awkward circumstances he’d ever been in. He wasn't prepared to deal with it, so he chose to remain hidden and avoid further conversation.

He knew he'd have to come out at some point, but he couldn’t bear the thought of facing Y/N knowing that she knew he watched porn and wanked. It was making him feel all kinds of yucky, which was why he was a bit shocked by what happened right after.

Y/N ventured under the sheets after him, and eventually nestled into his side. The warmth felt nice, but being so close to her was weird. He liked it, but it also made him feel worse at the same time, given that she'd been the catalyst for his breakdown in the first place and all that. Plus, he still couldn't wrap his head around why she wanted to touch him when he felt so icky.

Despite the fact that they were right next to each other, it took a while for one of them to venture breaking the silence. By the time Harry tried, he had a dry mouth, so he had to swallow first. “I know it’s not your fault, but I'd honestly rather you hadn't said anything because knowing you saw is making me feel like shit.”

His faltering whispers seemed to stun Y/N a little, as if she'd already accepted that they wouldn't be talking for the rest of the night. “There's no need for you to feel that way… especially with me.” She returned his hushed words. “I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you'd get like this. I was just joking.”

“I know, but it still bothers me.” Harry was a little surprised by how at ease he felt speaking in quiet whispers while hiding under his covers. For some reason, talking to Y/N in this setting wasn’t as mortifying as he'd anticipated. “And just to be clear, I have no idea how that ended up in my suggestions. I always use incognito mode for that stuff.”

He couldn't see her, but he could feel her shrug. “You must have forgotten to open a new tab. It has happened to me before.”

“Oh. So. You watch it too?”

“Doesn't everybody, at least once in a while?”

“I don’t know… I suppose they must, yeah.” They both fell quiet for a bit, but not for longer than a few breaths as Harry felt the urge to clarify something. “I don't want you to think I'm a perv, though. I don't watch it all that often… not the kind of stuff that you’re probably thinking I watch, anyway.”

“What do you think I think you watch?”

“I don’t know, like… cringy, scripted porn… you know, the usual “oh no, I’m stuck!” stuff that shows up on the main page.”

“Um… I’ll be honest, you’ve always came across as more of a Hentai guy to me. And before you say anything, this isn't just me calling you a weeaboo. I've watched my share too and overall, I think it's much better than that other stuff you were talking about.”

“Yeah, fine... I'll admit that I like Hentai, but it’s not all I watch.” Harry wasn't sure why he felt so keen on sharing all of a sudden, but weirdly, he was kind of enjoying their conversation. He found the topic interesting, and he'd never had the chance to discuss it with anybody in person before so… it was fun. And, on top of that, Y/N was disclosing a bit too and he liked that he was getting to know this part of her as well. “Do you know what audio porn is?” She hummed and nodded yes. “Cool, so, there’s this category called ‘guided masturbation’ that’s basically just girls talking and like... telling you what to do. There’s no visual content really, but it has a very real feel to it that I like... almost as if you're on the phone with someone.”

“That's interesting, actually. I always thought that audio porn mostly for women, since, you know... everyone says men are visual creatures.” She shifted her weight slightly, turning towards him. “But you still find naked girls hot, right? the sight of them?”

“Well, of course. I’d be worried if that wasn’t the case.” Her question struck Harry a little, but he liked that she was acting curious and asking him things. “Honestly, I think the reason why I don't watch more regular porn is because I can't picture myself living out the fantasies. I don’t know, it’s weird to explain.”

“You can’t picture yourself in a sexy plumber costume ready to unclog a hot milf’s pipes?”

Harry snorted. “You're joking, but that's pretty much what it is.”

She hummed as she drew closer to him on the bed. This time her, placing her head into the crook of his arm. Her mouth was closer to Harry's ear in this position, although he wasn't aware of this until he heard, and felt, her whisper again. “Is that why you like to hear girls telling you what to do? because you're a bit unexperienced?”

Harry wasn't usually one to cuss, but shit. Hearing her whisper that somewhat snarky question so close to his ear struck a chord with him. It was freaking hot and kind of reminded him a bit of the audios he liked. Obviously, it wasn't as explicit, but it was better in many ways. A huge downside to the experience, however, was that it was extremely difficult to concentrate afterward. In fact, in the midst of his thoughts, Harry almost forgot to reply. “Um… I guess? I’m sorry, I kind of forgot what the question was.”

“No, it’s all good. I’m sure you must be getting tired.” With that, Y/N crawled out from under the covers. As she did so, her hand stumbled onto Harry’s toppled over laptop. “Oh, I didn’t even notice this was here. We should probably turn it off, right? Assuming you don't want to keep working after this.”

Harry also came out from hiding and sat up in a position similar to hers, with his legs partially covered by the covers. As his eyes re-acclimated to the brightness of the room, he massaged them a little. “Sure. I’ll just need a moment to, uh… make sure the file got saved properly, if that’s okay.”

Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, Y/N snatched his pillow from his side of the bed. She tucked it under herself and slid back under the sheets. “I've got a comfy bed right here so… feel free to take as much time as you need.”

He smiled at her antics as he readjusted the laptop over his legs and opened it. Turns out the file had been autosaved, but Harry still saved it once more before switching off his computer and setting it over his desk. “Yeah, that's fine. I don’t mind giving you my bed for the night and sleeping on the air mattress for a change.”

“Or you could spare yourself and sleep right there instead of worrying about which one of us will be sleeping on the floor.”

Her offer caused his eyebrows to rise, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing to do. He liked the idea of it but was a little concerned about accidentally doing something embarrassing in the middle of the night. What if he made a toot? Or worse, had a wet dream? He hadn't had any recently, but one never knew when it might start happening again. In any case, he'd probably wake up with a stupid morning wood as usual, which was something that he could typically make go away before he got up when Y/N was around… but if she was going to sleep next to him, wasn’t there a chance she could tell? That prospect made him terrified. “Um… I'm not sure that I'm a good sleep partner; grandma says I used to move a lot in my sleep when I was small.”

“Oh. I don’t mind. I just don't feel like sleeping by myself tonight for some reason.” Y/N shrugged, leaving him unsure of what to say next. It was already difficult to say no when it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it became nearly impossible when he looked at her and met her begging eyes.

Well then, if she was being so casual about it, he figured it must not be that common for people to do humiliating things in their sleep, contrary to what he had previously been led to believe by his insecurities. The other factor that was pushing him to say yes was that having to get up to grab the air mattress from the attic and make Y/N a bed sounded a little too demanding for how lazy he was feeling. His bed wasn't even tiny either, so they'd have plenty of room to spread out without troubling one another throughout the night. “Ok, alright. But don't grumble tomorrow about having trouble falling asleep because of me. This was entirely your idea.”  

“I don’t grumble.” He made sure to let her see his eyeroll before turning off the lights and getting into bed with a second pillow for himself. No one said anything for a bit, they were just adjusting their positions in search for the most comfortable one. Harry was still wide-awake, but he believed it wouldn't be long until Y/N fell asleep. She was already close to when they were working on the paper, so it shouldn't take long at all.

She proved him wrong, though, when she blurted out something after minutes of being quiet. “I have another question for you...”

“Oh. What’s that?”

Harry saw a shadow that he believed to be her head poking up from the pillow, propped on what should be her arm. Her voice sounded quite chirpy too, which meant he’d probably underestimated how awake and willing to chat his friend actually was. “Have you ever… like, kissed anyone?”

“That’s so random.” It was during times like these that Harry wished he could travel back in time. If he could go back and pretend to be asleep two seconds ago when Y/N asked if she could ask him a question, he wouldn’t even hesitate. Heck, he'd even pretend to snore if it meant not having to respond but alas, since Harry didn’t have any time travel abilities, that wasn’t an option. She knew he was awake and was anxiously awaiting his response. “You're quite random sometimes, Y/N...”

Her voice was hushed, yet a little taunting. “That’s not an answer.”

Harry sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let him off the hook until he participated in the discussion she wanted to have. “Alright, then… define kissing... does something like a peck qualify?”

“No, Harry. I'm talking about actual kissing. Tongue and all.”

“Oh um. I knew that, obviously.”

“And did you do it or not?”

“Yeah I, uh. I've kissed...” His words stumbled slightly. They didn't come out as cool or confident as he’d hoped, but he did try to make his statement sound plausible. “But it wasn’t with a lot of tongue... just like, a little bit.”

Y/N let out a snort at his unconvincing answer. “You’re a shit liar, but fine. I used to lie about it too when people asked me.” Rather than defending himself, Harry didn't say anything, which told his friend all she needed to know. “Is it something you think about, though? would you like to do it?”

“Well, yeah… of course I’d like to. Even some of the guys I hang out with have done it... and you’ve seen them.” Harry felt a bit mean making that remark about his friends' looks. Obviously, he wanted them to have someone who liked them, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had much going in terms of physical appeal. “I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I know I’m the problem and that the reason why I haven’t kissed yet is because I’m not a kissable person. My only hope is that things will change once we start college. I don't know if I ever told you before, but I've been thinking about switching to contacts. I was also thinking it could be nice to exercise a bit just so clothes would fit me better. What do you think? It should help, right?”

Even in total darkness, Harry could tell that Y/N's eyebrows were deeply furrowed by her tone of voice. “Who was it that told you you weren't kissable?”

“Nobody needed to tell me. I see myself every time I look in the mirror. I dress like my grandpa and have a bit of a hunch like him too.”

“I think you're mistaking being unattractive for wearing clothes that aren’t particularly flattering. It's very different.” Harry knew she couldn't see it, but he was kissing his teeth at what she’d said. “If the reason why you want to make those changes is to feel better about yourself, then you have my full support… I do, however, have a feeling that’s not all it is, so I hope you realize that you don’t have to bend over backwards to be likable or kissable, or anything else. You already are all of those things exactly as you are.”

“I appreciate you sugarcoating things to make me feel better but if what you are saying were true, and I was fine the way I am, I wouldn't have this much trouble finding someone who saw that in me.” He sighed, a little annoyed by her efforts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard for me to believe you’ll ever understand what it feels like to be me. You’re like... the coolest, most kissable girl ever.”

There was a slight click, and suddenly the room got soaked in an orange light that caused Harry to squint despite his familiarity with it. His bedside table lamp was on, and Y/N was staring at him in awe. “You think I’m kissable?”

Crap. Had he really blurted it out that way? He couldn't recall the precise words he had used, but it seemed unlikely that Y/N was asking him that for no reason. She looked very taken aback by what she’d heard, and Harry, who still hadn't a clue how he’d managed to put his foot in it yet again, felt his face turn red and his tongue stutter once more. “Not in a weird way! Maybe I phrased it in a way that made it seem like I was being weird, but it was just a form of expression. Not that what I said isn’t true, but I would never say it like that. Even if I wanted to kiss you, which has never crossed my mind, really.”

“Hm.” Y/N’s gaze was drawn to her hands as he finished. Harry observed that she was picking at her nail polish, which was rather unusual for her unless she was nervous. “Is it really that ridiculous? I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind...”

His forehead wrinkled. “Why? Because you feel sorry for me?”

“No Harry, because I'd like to.”

“Me? You’d like to kiss me? Why?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” Her tone was a little hesitant, but she carried on. “Aff, okay… screw it. I might as well tell you since we’re talking about it. So, I, uh. I have a bit of a thing for you. I’ve had it for a while, but it was never serious… since well, I never really felt like there was a real possibility that it could be reciprocated. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner, that and because I wasn't sure how things would turn out if you rejected me so… I figured it would be best not to say anything.” She shrugged once more, as a small smile formed on her lips. “You’ve also never mentioned having any crushes or being into anyone, so I thought maybe you weren't interested in that type of stuff much.”

“Yeah, right.” Harry rolled over in bed, facing away from her. It wasn’t unusual of Y/N to play practical jokes on him from time to time, but this one did not go over well with him. It seriously screwed with his self-esteem and since it was her, he could have easily been tricked into admitting something he'd end up regretting. “I know you’re taking the piss and I don't think it's funny, like, at all.”

“Why would I be taking the piss? Do you really think I'd joke about something like this? And look at me when I'm speaking to you!” She pulled on his shoulder, compelling him to lie onto his back so she could at least see his face.

Harry complied with her, but not without a groan. “I'm serious Y/N. If you’re trolling, this is your one chance to say so ‘cause If I find out later that you were doing this to see me make a fool of myself or to get me flustered, I'm going to get really, really angry at you.”

“I may play a lot of dumb jokes, but I don't play with people's feelings like that… let alone my friends' feelings. I'm dead serious, Harry. It's really not that hard to see it if you think a little.” She huffed, upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She'd guessed he’d act a little wary at first but hadn't expected him to think she was pulling a prank on him. How could he have missed that she had a thing for him anyway, with how touchy she was when they were alone together? With her acting so eager to be his first kiss? She'd been shit at hiding it for years. It was so clear. “Do you remember when we were kids... my parents took us to a fancy playground by a lake and... there was a girl there who had a Nintendo but wouldn't let me play with it, she would only let you, so I snatched it away?”

"Yeah, I remember.” As he replied, Harry was unable to stop himself from letting out small laugh at the memory. “And then you threw it in the water because you'd heard from someone that Nintendo’s were waterproof. Your parents got so mad, and she wouldn't stop crying. It was awful.”

“Yeah, that. Except, I never really thought that they were waterproof. I did it because she was nasty... and it made me upset that you’d left me to play on the slide alone.” Y/N admitted, also laughing and shaking her head a bit at her childish antics. “I didn't know back then what being jealous was, but I think about that day sometimes... it makes me feel embarrassed obviously, but it also makes me realize that I've always been really possessive of you. I think if you'd turn out to have many girlfriends I would have realized much sooner that my feelings for you weren't just friendly ones.”

“Wow. Was that really what that was?” Harry was stupefied and Y/N couldn't not giggle at his open mouthed reaction. “I’m sorry, it’s just… this whole thing is really confusing. My head is spinning a bit and... being completely honest, part of me still thinks that you’re joking but at the same time, you seem serious enough so I’m gonna choose to believe you. Even if I have no idea why you'd like me that way, other than maybe ‘cause I'm tall.

“The hair too. Don't forget your fluffy hair.” She added playfully. “No but, even though I like those things, they aren’t the reason why I like you. I just do. There’s no logical explanation for it.”

“Yeah, um. That makes sense. I mean, not really but I think I understand that feeling you were describing and… I can kind of relate to it too since I've kind of had a small crush too since last year… or well, I've realized last year... back when you were dating that Joshua guy. It made me jealous. I’ve always thought it was silly though, so I tried not to think about it too much.” Harry acknowledged, albeit doing it with more trepidation and delay than Y/N had. “I've had other crushes too, but they were on girls I never talked to so... they didn’t last too long.”

“Wait so… you’ve had a crush too? since that long?”

“I- uh.. I have. Yeah.”

“You must be really good at hiding your feelings then, because I never noticed anything that suggested that, much less that you were jealous. Trust me, if I had any inkling I would’ve had this conversation with you last year instead of doing what I did. I didn’t even like Joshua much… I just wanted to have someone.” She pursed her lips in a mournful smile before reaching out for Harry's hand. It wasn’t the first time that their hands had brushed, but this time something in Harry's chest was sparked by her touch, making him feel both ecstatic and stiff at the same time. “It's nice that you've had other crushes, though. I think I'd be more upset if I found out you'd been caught up on me all this time and I'd just been completely unaware of it. With that said, I don't want you thinking about other girls now. Only me.”

“Yeah, okay. Just you. I like how that sounds a lot.” Harry had no idea what had possessed him, but he felt compelled to bring her hand to his mouth and kiss it. His gesture made her giggle, but he got somewhat self-conscious afterwards. “Was that lame? Probably, right?”

“No, it was cute. I liked it.” She reciprocated by lifting his hand to her mouth and placing a kiss over his knuckles. “Is there anywhere else you’d like me to kiss?”

With a tentative smile, he gave her a direct glance before nodding. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him but as they got closer, Harry's body tightened a little. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, yet the sight of the rosy, fluffy cushions was giving him pause. “I’m sorry if I’m not… uh… if I don’t know how to...”

She gave his cheek a comforting caress. “That’s fine, but are you okay? You’re shaking a bit.”

Harry laughed, feeling rather frustrated with himself. “Yeah, um… sorry about that. I'm just really nervous.”

“It can wait if you're not ready.” Y/N made a point of assuring him, even though she had a feeling that waiting wasn't what Harry wanted. He was just nervous, which was totally normal for someone who was about to get their first kiss. The most she could do was try to make him a bit calmer. “Is there anything specific that you're worried about?”

“No, I’m ready. It's just a bit overwhelming. This is all so alien to me… it’s a lot for my nervous system to handle.” Y/N couldn’t not frown a bit at how adorable he was as she listened. “I- I'm also a little in over my head, thinking I probably won’t be as good as the boys you've kissed before.”

“You don't have to worry about that, really. Trying stuff until you figure out what makes the other person melt is the most fun part.” She assured, before giving his hand another kiss. “We’ll learn that from one another, okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Upon his approval, Y/N pulled herself closer and higher, until her face was barely above his. They both smiled as she rubbed her nose against his... once, twice, and then it happened. She dropped her head just enough for their lips to touch.

Her tenderness and Harry's stomach-bursting butterflies were in stark contrast, making for a bizarre, yet fascinating combination of sensations.

They weren't quite in time with one another's lips but their kiss was free flowing. And it felt flawless, akin to a Vivaldi concerto or a Michelangelo masterpiece. There was something alarming about it too, however. Suddenly, Harry could feel the relatively insignificant seed of love that Y/N had planted in his heart blossom into a giant sequoia tree. And he couldn't, for the life of him, fathom the possibility of having shared a moment as nice with anyone else.

He was truly loving whatever love spell she was casting on his body with her kissing, which is why he couldn't help but let out a low whimper when he felt their lips unglue from her pulling away. “Why did you- why did you stop?”

“Your glasses are getting in the way.” She explained as she carefully started pulling them off his face. “Here, much better.” As soon as she was done placing his glasses over the nightstand, she raised her leg and straddled him. Well, sort of. It was more of an embrace; except she was laying on top of him. “This is okay, right? Not too much pressure?”

“Mh-mm. Better. Thank you.” Harry's face was flushed, and he couldn't stop smiling as he stared at her. She was so pretty, and her body over his felt so cozy. It was still hard to believe he had kissed her, but the tingle on his lips confirmed it was real, despite how uncanny it all felt. “I like this a lot, being this close to you.”

“Me too.” She ran her fingertips across his blushing skin. “You're so cute like this. I should’ve kissed you way sooner. You seem to like it too, don't you?”

“Mh-mm. I really do.” Harry desperately wanted more kisses from her, but he was still a little too unsure of himself to initiate. Besides, he’d really liked when she took initiative earlier and led the way so that’s what he wanted to happen again. “I’d like to do it some more, if that’s okay...”

Y/N smiled at his request, but wasted no time before she leaned in to taste his lips again.

It was mostly just smooches that they were trading, but that didn’t keep her from taking a nibble here and there. Harry was very responsive to her nibbles, which she appreciated. She’d never been with a boy who got whimpery and breathy just from making out before, but she found it to be incredibly encouraging and arousing.

What made it extra hot was knowing he wasn't doing it on purpose because he knew girls liked stuff like that. It was just how his body was reacting to her. She was also well aware that her kisses had gotten him bricked up instantaneously. His warm stiffness was palpable between her thighs, despite being covered by his pajama bottoms.

If it had been any of the boys she’d kissed before, the erection would have freaked her out a bit, but as it was Harry she thought it was cute that he was so excited. He wasn't the only one feeling this way though. The damp panties she had on served as a casual reminder that she was getting quite excited as well.

Despite her wants, Y/N had been doing a great job of controlling herself… only that task became much more challenging when Harry started getting more comfortable, more intuitive, and by default, touchier. At some point in the course of their kissing, he’d started sliding his hands up her back and, on occasion, giving her hips a squeeze. He'd noticed she was pleased by this, so he worked up the nerve to lower his hands to her bum and squeeze her there too.

“Not feeling so shy anymore, are you?” Y/N playfully teased, to which Harry responded by smiling and hiding his face by pulling her in for a hug. It hadn't been her intention to rub up on him, but he’d drew her in so close that their bellies were flush together, so when she shifted next he felt it on his crotch… and moaned, all deep and throaty. They stared at each other, until Y/N turned her mouth to Harry's ear and asked, “Do you want this? want me to do it again?”

His nodding was quick. “Just don't go too fast, ‘cause uh... might feel too good.”

“Okay, got it.” She said, then held onto the pillow under Harry’s head, nails digging into fabric as she began to move slowly on top of him. Rolling her hips to press down on the bulge in his pants. The pressure on her clit was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it was a relief to finally have a way to sooth some of the built-up tension, but on the other, it made her yearn for more friction.

She could feel his heavy, strained breathing against her skin. “Mm, it's too much, feels… too good. Ah-” He moaned again, once her fingers gripped at the roots of his hair.

“Shh, quiet.” Y/N covered his mouth and smiled. “I love your moans, but we have to keep it quiet.” She said, before removing her hand from his mouth and putting her lips in its place.

“I know, sorry.” Harry replied once she broke their kiss. “If I get loud again, you can repeat that hand thing if you want… it was hot.”

“Hmm, was it?” She returned her hand to his lips, but this time she allowed two fingers to go inside and prod into his mouth, that he was keeping slightly ajar for her. “That’s good, Harry. You're a natural at this, I think.” She had been straddling him with her body leaning over his, but she sat upright for a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked with her fingers in his mouth from farther away. As soon as he saw her eyes fixed on him, his lips encircled her fingers, and his tongue began to softly wriggle between them. “Mh-m... that's it. Just like that.”

As she started moving her hips again, Harry's hands shot to her waist, to hold her as she rutted against him. This gave her more balance, so she ramped up the pace, rubbing harder and faster to create the desired friction for her. The change caught up with Harry quickly, who began groan restlessly into her fingers in response. She pulled them off to let him speak. “S-slow... please go slower. If you don't, I'll-”

“Make a mess. I know. Give me your hands.” As per Y/N’s request, Harry slid his hands away from her waist and held them up between their bodies. Y/N took them, entwined their fingers together and then without warning, allowed her weight to fall forward, successfully pinning him to the bed. “I know you want to, but you're ashamed about doing it in your underwear. So, I was thinking… if I keep you like this and force it out of you, maybe you won't feel so bad about wanting it anymore. What do you say?”

“I just don't want to get you dirty, that's all. I thought I could keep it under control a little better, but I can't. It feels so much better than my hand.” Harry acknowledged, smiling shyly. “That sounds hot, though… the idea of you forcing it.”

“I know but don't worry about getting me dirty. I brought extra pjs.” She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hands. “So…you want to do it, then? Since you think it’s hot…”

A delaying groan rumbled in his throat before his lips parted into a broad smile, the kind of smile you make when you’re on the verge of breaking into laugher. “I’m going be so embarrassed about this tomorrow, but yeah. I want to.”

Y/N shook her head at him, grinning. “Don't. I've always wanted to do this. It's a bit of a fantasy of mine, I guess.” She didn’t give him a chance to react to her confession, as she started rutting against his cock again. This time she wasn’t being gentle or avoiding any harsh friction. Her movements were quicker and jerkier than they had been before, and she tightened her hold on his hands as well. She had a hunch Harry liked the feeling of being held down and used, so that's what she was doing.

He was shivering beneath her, taking fast breaths through his mouth as he looked her in the eyes. The poor baby couldn’t stay quiet for the life of him, either. His whimpers and groans were unrelenting, so she was bound to muffle him once more.

His now-free hand joined hers over his mouth, but it didn’t linger there for long since he took hold of her wrist and started guiding it downward. “My neck,” He pleaded lowly, his voice trembling. “…want your hand on my neck.”

She gave him a devilish smirk before grabbing his throat. She only needed to hold him still; there was no need to squeeze or do anything else. “And I want your cum,” she told him, hoping that slipping in a few dirty words in combination with her movements would make him snap. “…want to get all wet from it.”

Harry’s legs jerked beneath her. “Close,” He warned, a little startled. “So, so close…” The fact that she could not only hear him but also feel his words on his throat as he spoke was incredibly arousing. “Please…” He pled sweetly, what triggered a sudden desire in Y/N's chest to be closer. She released her hold on his throat and hugged him tight as she drove her hips into his, rutting violently to make him orgasm.

It worked.

Between her thighs, Y/N could feel his warm juices seeping through the material of their pajamas. So she kept rutting, wanting to make sure she had extracted every last drop of them.

Harry returned her tight hug all the way through his climax, and he didn’t let go after either. They remained in that position for a while, holding each other close regardless of the slightly unpleasant wetness that was binding them together. “We should probably change right?” Y/N asked after a beat, despite her lack of want to wrest away from him.

“M-hm. I’m all gross and sticky.” Harry laughed. “I’m gonna need another shower in the morning, but for now, I think I'll just wipe it off and put on new boxers. I mean if you don't mind that I don't wear pants to bed…”

“No, I don't mind. I'm gonna take mine off too.”

“Oh. That's a great idea. Sounds perfect to me.” Harry playfully quipped, before he got out of bed and started opening drawers. “Also, um… I don't know how to ask without being weird, but could you close your eyes for a moment? so I can take care of myself real quick?” Y/N said yes and turned away to give him privacy while he cleaned himself and changed. She was a tiny bit surprised that he hadn't wanted to use the restroom for that, but she figured that since it was closer to his grandparents' bedroom at the end of the corridor, he probably didn't want to risk going and waking them up. “Okay… you can look now.”

When Y/N looked at him next, the first thing she noticed was that he had on a pair of tight, black boxers. The next thing she noticed was that Harry was looking at her legs, since, as he’d probably seen when he turned, she had also stripped off her pants in the interim, leaving just her grey panties on. “What?” He smiled in response to her curious gaze.

She wouldn’t bring it up, but she could see he had grown a little hard in his boxers just from seeing her sprawled in bed with no pants on. “Nothing, you’re cute.”

Harry snorted at that. “Thanks, but you're much cuter.” He wandered across the room to where the supermarket bags were. “Are you thirsty? Do you want water or a snack? ”

“Hmm, just water if that’s okay.”

Harry handed her the water bottle and sat down on the bed next to her while she drank from it. “You didn’t cum…” he pointed out after a moment of pause.

“Oh um… yeah. I didn’t. It’s okay though.” Y/N laughed, shrugged, and took another sip of her water.

“Hmm.” Harry hummed, before scooting a little closer to her. “It must be a bit of an unpleasant feeling, no? and hard to sleep like that.”

“It is a little until it goes away but nothing that I can't handle.”

“Hm.” He hummed again, before Y/N cocked her head to kiss his lips. She’d only meant to give him a peck, but Harry changed her plans when he leaned in to kiss her deeper. He seemed really eager to continue kissing and well, she wasn't about to say no to him. Especially when he went so far as to nibble on her lip, which he hadn’t done before. He was also getting handsy with her, and she loved it. He was touching her more and focusing on the spots he'd learned she liked.

“That,” She blurted, as she paused to catch her breath. “That feels really nice.”

“M-hm.” He murmured against her lips as he kissed her again. His hand continued to grab at her as they kissed, to the point where Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She hadn’t meant to but ended up moving her knees apart out of desperation. Being so blatant almost made her feel ashamed, but she didn't because she felt Harry's palm wrap over her crotch. In response to his touch, she moaned into his mouth, and he moaned back, surprised at how her moisture had soaked through her panties. “Teach me.” He asked, softly. “I want to learn. I- um, want to make you go to sleep happy.”

“That’s so nice, Harry, really. I, um-” She smiled while wiping the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m already happy.” She didn’t know what was making her so overwhelmed with joy all of sudden. She’d always known Harry was boyfriend material, but it was still nice to see how much he gave thought to her needs and happiness. And she was happy. So, so happy to finally have him like this, all to herself. “Do you want me to show you how to touch?”

“Yes please. To make you feel good.”

“Okay.” She placed her hand on top of his. “Here,” she explained once she’d guided his fingers to the spot of her panties right above her clit. “Circular motions with your fingers feel really nice, so does pressure. You don't have to focus on just that spot though… the nicest feeling is when you rub there but also all over.” She glanced at him, then bit her lip and asked, “Wanna try?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry responded, adjusting his position slightly so that Y/N could get more comfortable. They decided to have her sit between his legs, facing away from him since that would make it easier for her to lead him. Once they’d both settled, Harry began to touch her in the way she had showed him, moving his hand broadly enough to reach a little bit everywhere in between her legs. “Am I doing it right?”

“Mm-hmm, you're doing really good.” Y/N was still holding his hand while he touched her, and she was fascinated by the size difference between their hands. “Your hands are really big, which... makes it feel extra good.”

“Really? That’s nice. I'm definitely grateful for that.” He said while looking down as well. “Should I put more pressure, or is it okay as it is?”

“It’s fine but I wouldn’t mind a little more...” She could tell he was afraid of hurting her, and that’s why he was being so careful and gentle in his touching. She wasn’t planning on rushing him or constantly give him directions though, so instead she simply relaxed against his chest and let him probe at his own pace. Because, after all, even though he was playing safe, she was still thoroughly enjoying herself.

It took Harry a few minutes to figure out how much pressure and speed he should be using, but eventually he pressed and swirled his fingers around her sensitive nub in a way that felt just right. When Y/N’s breath faltered he glanced at her worriedly, what made her chuckle. “No, don't worry. You didn't hurt me. Keep going like that.”

Harry smiled at that. He’d had a feeling he was starting to get the hang of it due to the way Y/N’s breathing had become more erratic and she'd begun to quiver against him on occasion but hearing it from her mouth that he was doing a good job was much, much better. He was really looking forward to making her cum. She looked so good like this, flushed and a little out of breath. She'd been staring at his face a lot from over her shoulder in the last couple of minutes, biting her lip and letting out little gasps of pleasure to let him know he was making her feel good.

“Like that. Don’t stop.” Those quiet, whispered words snapped him out of his reverie. He knew what they meant, even before she told him, “I’m really, really close.”

He'd learnt from a meme he saw once that when girls said that, boys weren't meant to speed up or change what they were doing in the slightest. So he merely focused on adding a bit more pressure, since that was something he knew she liked, and trying to keep his hand's tempo.

Despite how hot he found it, Harry wasn't very comfortable with dirty talk, but seeing her like this and recalling the perfect, filthy words she'd said to him just before making him cum, he felt compelled to give it a shot. “I can feel how wet your panties are, it’s so hot.” He whispered into her hair. “I can smell it too and it makes me want to eat you so bad. I've never done it before, but I can't stop thinking about doing it to you.” Rather than trying to sound hot, he was simply stating facts about how she was making him feel, and somehow it was working. “I wanna make you cum like this first though. From rubbing it this way, like you taught me to.”

Harry's words, paired with the precise movements of his fingertips around her pussy got Y/N right at the edge. She trembled, clutched his wrist, and strained to keep her legs open.

“Please, please, please...” She started begging out loud right before the warm pleasure bubble on her belly popped, so Harry did the same thing she’d done to him and muffled her by putting his free hand over her mouth.

He hadn't anticipated being able to feel when a girl orgasmed, but he was. He could feel the strong pulse under his fingers as soon as Y/N started to cum, and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. He could also feel the damp spot on her panties becoming even wetter as he rubbed her through it and God, the smell… it was making his mouth water.

If she didn’t look so exhausted, Harry would have begged her to let him take off her panties and lick her clean, but those puffy, glossy eyes didn't permit his mind to stray any further. If there was one thing Harry understood about Y/N, it was how she looked just before falling asleep, and that was exactly how she was getting.

So he helped her into bed and laid down beside her, but his heart wouldn't let him fall asleep before he asked, “You’re staying for the entire weekend, right?” and his ears picked up a faint “M-hm” in return.

This was going to be the best weekend ever.

**