#came to me when i had lost all hope and didn't expect anything at all

[mne-bolno]

//

[moonchildstyles]

pomegranate

pomegrante part one: harry and y/n are roommates and she doesn't want him to feel lonely

wordcount: 14.2k+

—————

Harry's brows knitted together as he lifted his eyes from the avocado he was slicing, eyes flitting to the television from where he stood at his kitchen island. Truthfully, he didn't know why he kept watching this show when he never agreed with any of the contestants' decisions. More often than not, he came away frustrated when he watched these singles fumble budding relationships in favor of the near-mythical 'something better' they were convinced was out there. He couldn't understand why they prioritized sex with someone they didn't even know existed yet over someone right in front of them, that was more than enough. 

Shaking his head when he saw another shirtless, spray-tanned man with a head of permed curls on the top of his head pull a beautiful girl to the side for a "chat",  Harry directed his attention back to the strokes of the knife under his hand. His sushi bake would be out of the oven soon and he needed to get all of his fix-ins in order before the timer ran out. 

Just as he stowed away his slices of avocado and started on the edamame pods he planned on salting and marinating, the humming of the garage door rolling up rumbled through the house. A slight smile touched at his cheeks, already anticipating the clicking of heels he would no doubt hear before the door leading from the garage to the kitchen would be swung open with a huff. 

(Y/N) had been on a date tonight, and there was no way it had gone well if she was already home. Only an hour away didn't make for a particularly fun night. 

As expected, only moments after the garage had been closed and he heard the slam of her car door, (Y/N) trudged in from the extension with a tired expression on her face. 

"Hey, H," she sighed, already bending over to take her shoes off despite barely making it onto the tile of the kitchen floor.

"Hi, (Y/N)," he greeted, turning around with his avocado slices left behind, "Bad night?" 

He didn't have to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes. 

"The worst." She stood up to her full height—sans high heels, of course—with a flick of her hair. "I should've just stayed home with you. I wouldn't have been bored to near tears with you." 

For a second, Harry felt his heart sitting in his throat. Did she have any idea what it did to him when she talked like that—joked like that? Years into this friendship with no shortage of her sweetened comments, he doubted she did. He just hoped that she didn't notice his cheeks reddening and the way his hands suddenly didn't know what to do. 

"'M sorry," he murmured, "Was he nice at least?" 

(Y/N) shrugged, the silk straps of her top shifting over her smooth shoulders. "Nice enough—he just likes talking about himself, I think." 

Harry's lips thinned at her comment. He couldn't imagine being anything but the best listener for (Y/N); who wouldn't want to hear everything that was going on in her head and the piles of stories, however mundane, she could share? 

"Well, unless you're too tired, we could watch our show? Dinner will be ready soon if y'were still hungry." 

It was the way she seemingly inflated, light in her eyes with her hands brought to her chest all to match the bubbly smile on her lips, that had his heart springing in his chest. 

"You'd share your dinner with me?" 

You can have everything of mine, as long as you keep looking at me like that.

A mild smile curled his lips in hopes of concealing everything bubbling underneath his skin. "Of course. 'S a salmon sushi bake, if that sounds any good to you." 

"That sounds so good, H. You're the best, thank you." 

Her smile was dazzling when she turned it on him. Thank god he had set his knife down, or he would have lost a couple of fingers at this point. 

This time, he couldn't shake the smile that bloomed over his lips, however sheepish it was. "Of course—um, thank you." 

A peal of laughter left her lips as she traipsed out of the kitchen, heels in hand. "You're so sweet. I'm gonna change, but I'll be right back!" 

As if in a swirl of cherry blossoms and white lace, (Y/N) was gone. Along with her went the sparks that flooded his bloodstream and tremors in his fingers. 

God, he'd have thought knowing her since university days he would be used to her at this point. It was as if becoming roommates those couple of months ago did the opposite of acclimating him to her presence. He wasn't sure there was anything about her—the way she looked, the way she acted, the way she talked—that didn't hold even a bit of magic in his eyes. 

The sound of the oven timer going off brought Harry back to real life. Now that he was planning on sharing this dinner with (Y/N), he wanted to ensure everything was perfect. One of his favorite things about living with her was being able to take care of her through simple things like cooking dinner or making coffee in the morning. Every night she went out on a date or took a night off to go out for a girls night, he was there to get the rundown of her time away and feed her toast and water to lessen the blow of the morning hangover as much as he could. He was there for any and everything—even if he wasn't necessarily in the mood to hear about her feelings for another. He would rather be on her side even if she was on someone else's arm, than not be there at all. 

All while (Y/N) was readying herself for a night in with Harry, he was focusing on his knife strokes and mixing the different sauces to be drizzled over the bake. By the time she emerged with a set of pajamas on and her hair twisted out of her face, Harry had crafted the perfect dinner to be shared over an episode of their tropic reality dating show. 

He didn't wait for her before he was putting together her plate, dressed the way he knew she liked, sheets of nori off to the side along with a pair of chopsticks he taught her how to use years ago. 

"There's extra in the kitchen if y'want more," he murmured as he passed the plate to her hands, taking the spot on the couch at her side. 

"This looks so good, H," she beamed, looking at him with something he liked to think of as affection in her eyes, "Thank you again, really. You're already making my night so much better." 

"Good," he swallowed, dropping his eyes to the tip of her nose, "'M glad I could—um—make y'happy."

He could have cringed at the sound of his fumbling words, but that was only cut off when (Y/N) shot him a beaming smile and gave him a hug in the form of wrapping her arm around his own and resting her head on his shoulder for a lingering moment. 

"Wait! Wasn't he paired with Amber an episode ago?"

(Y/N)'s bubbled outrage was the perfect cover to the way his heart had landed in his throat. This way, he could concentrate on anything but himself and the reactions he was having over someone who was supposed to be just his friend.

"Yeah," Harry murmured, wrapping a bite of crispy rice and marinated salmon on a sheet of nori, "He pulled Lissa over for a chat at the start of this one." 

"Of course, he did," (Y/N) grumbled. 

While he would never wish anything but pure joy on her, Harry couldn't help the way his own happiness sprouted in his chest. He would never pass on a night like this.

—————

"Can I lay on you?" 

Harry blinked back to earth at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice over the familiar episode of a long ended reality show they'd already watched hundreds of times. Looking to her end of the couch, she was already slouched into the corner cushion, eyes heavy and hair tucked not a mess away from her face. 

He didn't think before he nodded his head, uncurling his legs to allow her space to lay her head. She murmured her gratitude in a sleepy voice as she stretched across the cushions to rest her head on his thighs. 

It was a familiar move, something that (Y/N) had done many times even prior to their roommate situation coming to fruition. She'd spilled to him more than once that she was a cuddly person—touchy-feely, was the way she put it—taking and loving all of the physical affection she was able to collect. Including from Harry, who always seemed to take the whole thing entirely too seriously. It was cute, she'd said, cute enough she couldn't help but to laugh. 

Tonight, she was already heavy-eyed and loose-limbed by the time she settled against his legs. Her hands were tucked under her cheek, a small barrier between his thigh and her cheek though he could still feel every ray of her warmth no matter what. 

He did his absolute best to stay relaxed despite the instinct to straighten his spine and tense his muscles at the affectionate way she laid over him. He wanted to be the best pillow he could be for her, and that wouldn't be possible if he resembled a wooden plank more than a fluffed case of feathers. 

Harry's win came in the form of a languid sigh that left her lips, (Y/N) practically going boneless against him. 

"You're the best, H," she murmured, just barely audible over the club music sounding from the television. "Thank you." 

Swallowing, he allowed his eyes to glaze over her form without her own watchful gaze on him. Hearing those words attached to that mouth from this gorgeous girl, was going to make him burst. 

"You're welcome," he whispered, urging his eyes to move on from the sliver of her midriff on display from the ruched hem of her top. 

As expected, a breathy laugh came from (Y/N). "You can touch me, you know," she said, twisting just enough to look up at him through flared lashes, "You don't have to keep your hands up like that." 

He hadn't even realized he froze with his limbs hovering over her, resting away as if there were a barrier holding him back. "Oh," he sounded, blood burning behind his cheeks, "Sorry." 

Could he be any more pathetic? Embarrassment surged through his veins. Was there any other way he could make it that much more obvious just how nervous (Y/N) made him? 

In a set of cautious movements, his hands floated back down to her form. He gently settled his palm on the cuff of her shoulder while the other rested near her head, where strands of hair brushed the stretch of his fingers. 

"It's okay," she said, the smile evident in her voice despite Harry not seeing the curl, "You're so silly, H." 

It was the way her voice trailed off, taking on a deeper octave than before, that showed him just how close she was to finding the other side of her eyelids. He instinctively began running his thumb along the ball of her shoulder, a circuit that had him skimming her soft skin with the sleeve of her top pushed out of the way. 

There was something about seeing her skin being dented by his touch, a touch that wasn't particularly strong or even rough at all. She wondered if she was able to feel the whorls of his print, the creasing of his knuckle. It was an innocent enough feeling, his hand upon her arm, but he felt his heart beginning to thump. His throat was thick enough he felt his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

This was another facet that only took on a life of its own, the casual intimacy that had been sparked between them now that they shared a home. Laying her head on his shoulder in a passing hug, resting her head on his lap, practically asking him to put his hands on her as she was lulled to sleep. Logically, he was sure this was supposed to get easier as it went, the more it happened the magic was supposed to lessen. But, that just didn't happen.

His heart still thumped heavily. His stomach tightened and pitted and warmed. His...  well, other parts of him appreciate the touching too, even if he resented focusing on those parts of himself.

It felt more than wrong to acknowledge his baser interests in her, not when she was such a kind and loving friend to him. If that boundary between them was meant to be crossed, there were plenty of times both during their university days and the years that followed, that gave perfect opportunities for that line to be wiped away and crossed in favor of something new. Instead, they were still just friends—best friends, even. 

You're not supposed to get hard over your best friend. Not when she was doing nothing but falling asleep in his lap. Not when she was relaxing in her own home in comfortable pajamas—even if they were comprised of a soft t-shirt and pair of shorts just a touch too small that rolled up at the hem, giving more and more skin for his eyes to feast upon. Without a bra, of course. A fact evident in the way her nipples would peak against the material. 

No, he was not supposed to be hard over that. Not to mention the glaring fact that she spent nearly every weekend on a date with someone or going out with the express purpose of having fun and meeting other people. 

There was also, of course, the most prominent issue: he's a virgin. Even if he somehow managed to see more than just a friendship in him, he would have no idea how to take care of her. (Y/N) was someone who had experienced enough physical affection that she no doubt knew what she enjoyed and what she didn't; there was little to no appeal to teaching the one you're in bed with how to do the most basic of acts.

So he would keep his distance, even if the rest of his body refused to get on the same page. 

"Are you okay?" 

(Y/N)'s mumbled voice shook Harry from his thoughts. Blinking back to the real world, she was tipping her head up to look at him with sleepy eyes. 

"Hm?" he hummed, aware of the way his hand had gone still on her arm and his bones had grown stiff. 

"Do you want me to move or something?" she murmured, "So you can get comfortable? Sorry if I made your leg fall asleep." 

Harry's skin warmed to a flushing red. Of course, he would grow restless when she was on his mind. Taking stock of his body, at least he knew he wasn't that hard; any longer in his mind and he may have had a problem. 

"'S alright, 'm alright," he rushed out, "Jus' think 'm getting tired. Sorry." 

She smiled up at him, her hair haloing around her head in his lap. "It's okay," she laughed, "Do you want to go to bed? We can keep watching tomorrow instead." 

That was what he needed at the moment: distance. Some peace and quiet and a moment to get his head on straight. "Let's go to bed," he affirmed, mimicking her soft smile. 

Her movements were lethargic as she moved off of his lap. A curling stretch had her raising her arms above her head, the hem of her top lifting just enough to show a sliver of skin above the waistline of her shorts. Harry quickly retracted his eyes, settling his gaze to his feet instead. 

Turning to him, with eyes slightly hooded and limbs languid, (Y/N) gave him a smile. "Goodnight, H," she mumbled, "Thanks for making my night better."

Collecting him in her arms, Harry didn't have to think before he was reciprocating her hug. The scent of her perfume twisted around him, stray hairs tickling the tip of his nose. Her words echoed in his head. 

He made her night. She made his life. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," he crooned, melting into her hug for just a moment longer before unwrapping himself from her hold. "'M happy I could help." 

Her smile was sweet as she turned on her socked feet towards her bedroom. "See you in the morning." 

He watched as she pushed open her bedroom door, her eyes glanced over her shoulder at him. Her pretty, pretty eyes. 

"See you in the morning." 

With that, the night ended as she closed her bedroom door behind her. 

Though she stayed just where she was on Harry's mind. 

—————

Harry wiped his hands clean now that the sink was cleared of all dirty dishes. The clock on the stove detailed the time as eleven thirty-two, a half an hour longer than he meant to stay up tonight. But, he supposed that's what happened when he decided to take a nap instead of cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. 

Quiet voices sounded through the living room from the show running on the television though Harry didn't pay it any mind as he swept through the space. (Y/N) was out for a girls night, leaving it Harry's turn to take care of the common spaces to ensure neither of them would have to tidy anything in the morning. Plus, he didn't think it would be very nice of him to leave her stumbling over his pile of shoes when she came home after a night of drinking and crashing on a friend's couch. 

He could still see traces of her scattered about the space in the form of stray glitters from her outfit, a pair of loose hair ties left on the table by the door, right next to her usual handbag ransacked with only a few random items left in it from the essentials she pulled from it to take out on the town with her. He hoped she was having a fun night—she deserved it. 

After cleaning up and turning off the television and lights, Harry retired to his bedroom upstairs. Turning on some music through his headphones, he started on his nighttime routine. It was definitely less extensive than the one he'd seen (Y/N) do night after night, but there were a few serums and techniques he'd stolen from her—including the lavender room spray he was addicted to misting through his room before laying his head down. It turned his dreams decadently sweet, he thought. (Or it could be because he always fell asleep with (Y/N) on his mind, the lavender scent reminding him of her every night without fail).

But, this time, when he laid his head on his fluffed pillow, delicate music filtering through the space from his bluetooth speaker, Harry wasn't ready to go to bed. He had known the evening nap he took wasn't the smartest idea, leaving his limbs restless and eyes wide open. As soon as he knew (Y/N) was home safe in the morning, Harry planned on running all of the errands he'd pushed off this weekend, and a late wakeup time wasn't going to be the most productive move. 

There were only so many things he could think of doing to tire himself out. Scrolling on his phone was a no-go considering how he knew the blue-light would only urge him to stay awake, his book was too riveting to be a useful bedtime story, and going for a run this late wasn't the best option. He just needed to tire himself out. 

Fitting his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry figured there was another option. 

He wasn't quite in the mood at the moment, he could put himself there he figured. He doubted it would take much work, really. 

As if this were a laborious task, Harry kicked his comforter from his hips with a sigh. He reached for his phone on instinct, opening up a familiar application to help color his imagination. Without much ceremony, he pushed his sweats down just enough to fit his hand down his underwear. He would do this quickly, he decided; fast and hard, to put him to sleep sooner rather than later. 

It didn't take long to feel himself harden in his grasp, photos and videos of various couples wrapped around one another and those in solo situations fueling his head. His breathing grew heavy in his chest, mouth falling open as a particularly titillating video of a woman with her hands between her legs filled his screen. 

With the audio still playing, Harry's head fell back against the pillows. His eyes fell closed, a sigh leaving his lips. Pulling his hand from his length, he brought the appendage to his mouth before spitting against his palm. With his hand now slick, the wet pumps of his fist along his cock now filled the air. His toes curled in his sheets, free hand tightly gripping his phone. 

While it wasn't something he wanted to do, it was terribly easy to let his mind wander to the pretty girl that had left him home alone tonight. The fit of her dress had been hard enough to process when he was clear minded, now that was a nearly impossible task. 

The dress was new, a silky piece with embroidered flowers and thick straps cuffing her shoulders. It was tight along the bodice, cupping her breasts and curve of her waist before flaring out along her hips. The hem cut off at the mid of her thigh, leaving the length of her legs on display down to the comfortable shoes she chose for the night. (The high heels from the weekend prior had been shoved to the back of her closet for the time being, the blisters on her feet enough to have her avoiding them at the moment). 

It was a terrible, horrible, repulsive thought to have about his roommate, but Harry knew that all it would have taken was a bend of her hips and he would have seen the curve of her bottom. If he had been bold enough to look, he was sure he would have caught a glance down the bodice of her dress when she came to him to say goodbye for the night. 

His cock twitched at the reminder of her body pressed against him when she hugged him goodbye. If he was a different man and they were in a different situation, he would have grabbed her hips and held her close. He would have found the line of her panties through her dress, felt the curve of her bottom over the silk. 

He liked to imagine she would hold him back, that she would lean into the angles and muscles of his body. He could see her tipping her head, leaving him the room to drop his lips over the curve of her neck and shelf of her collarbone. 

He liked to imagine her wanting him back. That he would be able to satisfy her and take her expertly, tying her to him as he pushed his hand between her legs—or, god, his head—and brought her to the edge. What he wouldn't give to know what the melody of her voice sounded like when steeped in pleasure.

Harry pumped his hand that much harder along his length, the put of his stomach growing tight like the thick bands of muscles on his thighs. His breathing was harsh, wheezing out against his clenched teeth. 

"Fuck," he panted, hips bucking against his hand when he thought of what could have happened had he pushed (Y/N)'s dress up to her middle. Precum dribbled from his tip, streaking down to his shaft and mixing with the slick of his spit. 

He was going to cum, he could feel it. His muscles were bunched tight, eyes screwed shut with his own personal pornography projected against his eyelids. 

"Harry, are you awa—Oh! Oh my god, bye!" 

In a second, Harry snapped from the throes of pleasure just to see the tail-end of (Y/N)'s silken dress flashing out of his doorway. Behind her, his door slammed shut, cutting her words in half. 

She wasn't supposed to be home. She was supposed to be spending the night at Rue's house. What was she doing here? 

Oh, god—fuck—she's home. (Y/N) came home and saw him jerking himself off to the thought of her. Shit, fuck, shit.

His movements were fumbling and disjointed as he pulled his pants back up and attempted to wipe his hand of the evidence against a dirty t-shirt that should have been in his hamper. Jesus Christ, what the fuck was he thinking? He was so lost in his head, he didn't even hear the door open? Didn't hear her footsteps stomping up the stairs?

Was he supposed to talk to her? Or were they supposed to avoid each other until someone inevitably broke the lease and they never spoke to one another ever again? 

The latter option hurt his chest, but the former cast his body in a sweat. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, eyes trained on the floor beneath his feet. 

Why couldn't he have just gone to sleep? Why did he have to take that nap and leave him thinking he needed to tire himself out? Why did this have to happen?

Did she know he was thinking of her? He wasn't entirely mindful of his words, had he let out a call of her name? How long had she been home before she barged in?

Harry hung his head, shaking his head as he attempted to spool himself back in. If not for the fact that he was concerned about the fact she'd made her way home instead of staying with her friends, he's sure he would have spent the entire night hiding in his home. But, unfortunately, his heart still beat for her and he needed to know that she was okay, at the very least. 

Summoning the courage, Harry stood from his seat at the edge of her bed, his hands shaking before curling into fists. They were best friends—she'd seen him with his head hung over the toilet with chunks being hurled from his mouth, with greasy limp hair until he figured out the right products for his strands, the puffy-eyed, snot-nosed sobs he let out when he failed his first mid-term their entry year of university. There were few more embarrassing situations to be found in.

He was telling himself that, anyway. 

Steeling himself, Harry moved to push open his door and seek out (Y/N) only to be stopped in his tracks when he ran right into her. 

"Harry!" she bubbled, wobbling in her spot as she reached out to grab his arms. She steadied herself with the grip. "Are you okay? Sorry, I didn't know you were there." 

It was then that he noticed the slur to her words. Her eyes, ever pretty and with only remnants of mascara remaining, were glassy. More than being startled as she ran into him, she had reached for him to keep her steady on her feet. She smelled of perfume, a dark bar's worth of smoke and cologne, and the sting of alcohol. 

"'M alright," he mumbled, reaching for her arm across his chest as he scrutinized "Are you?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, blinking up at him, "Are you?" 

A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. She almost made it easy for him to forget what had happened just moments earlier. "'M alright," he repeated, "I didn't know y'were coming home tonight." 

"Oh yeah. I was supposed to," she sighed as if there was a length of story behind her words, "But, Rue got busy, so Kim said I could stay at hers, but honestly I just wanted to come back to you. I felt bad leaving you to have dinner by yourself, and I missed you so I just had her boyfriend drop me off here." 

God, had his blunder even happened? Hearing her say I missed you so flippantly all while clutching his arms and blinking right up at him was enough to bring him to his knees. She wasn't acting at all like she'd just walked in on his private moment. 

"Oh," he sounded, finding his words, "I hope I didn't make y'feel like y'needed to come back." 

She shook her head before he even finished talking. "No, no, no. I wanted to come home—I wanted to be with you. I wish you'd come out with us sometime, you'd have so much fun." 

While Harry was reeling over her words, the sentiments she was sharing so freely, (Y/N) traipsed past him. The ghost of her grip on his arms stuck around in the moments after she left him behind to approach his bed. He turned to face her with his lips rolled between his teeth in an effort to keep anything embarrassing from spilling off his tongue, only to see her slipping off her shoes. 

She left them in an unceremonious pile by his bed when she caught him looking. "What?" 

"What—um—what are you doing?" He hoped he didn't sound as rude as he did in his head. Truly, he didn't know what she was doing, beginning to shed the night while in his room.

Unabashedly, she looked up at him with a flutter of her lashes. "Can I stay here with you? Like a sleepover?" 

His heart stopped in his chest only to leap up to the base of his throat. "A sleepover?" 

"Yeah," she sighed, pulling at the hem of her dress, "Is that okay?" 

Logically, with how intoxicated she was, it was the safer option to keep her with him tonight. In case anything were to happen, of course. 

(There was everything else bubbling in his stomach, too. All the bubbles popping with whispers urging him on to keep her just where she was amongst all of his things, where he can take care of her.)

"Y'can stay," he murmured, offering a soft smile as he gazed at her. "Do y'want me to grab some clothes for you?" 

"Sure," she chirped, already blindly dealing with her hair, "Thank you, Harry." 

He gave her another smile before he left towards her bedroom a floor below. Somehow, within the confines of his home, fresh air entered his lungs and cleared his middled head. Being around her right now was making Harry feel just as drunk as she actually was. 

Maybe she hadn't seen what he was doing when she walked in? While he couldn't imagine he wasn't being completely obvious with his hand at his groin and head thrown back, she may have been too drunk to realize what he was doing. Otherwise, Harry just couldn't fathom how he was being so normal afterwards—asking if she could have a sleepover in his room, even. 

Pulling out a set of pajamas from the stack of laundry on the end of her bed, Harry tried not to dwell as he started back up the stairs to his bedroom. If she didn't want to talk about it, neither would he. (If he had any luck on his side, she might not even remember what she may or may not have seen. The memory might be one of the few that went fuzzy for her). 

Heading back into his bedroom, (Y/N) was sat crossed legged on his bed, eyes decidedly much heavier than when he had left her. Her hair was now tied up and out of the way of her face, shoes and socks in a messy pile on his floor. She perked up when he entered, eyes brightening though still glassy and tired. 

"You're back! You were gone for so long, I was scared you forgot I was home." 

Harry could only laugh at her declaration. How could he ever forget about her, let alone when she was asking to spend the night in his bed? 

"Couldn't forget about you," he admitted, his smile soft as he dropped his eyes from hers, "I hope these are alright to sleep in." 

He passed off the sleep clothes he picked for her, watching as she unfurled the pieces without even looking at them. "They're perfect, H. Thank you so much." 

Standing up from her spot on his bed, she didn't hesitate before wrapping him in a hug. Harry stood motionless for a brief moment, attempting to process the affection. All while clad in the tiny dress he had just been fantasizing about barely twenty minutes prior, the full of her soft body was pressed against his. 

Would he ever not react like a teenager with a crush when it came to her? How much longer would he feel with the racing heart and sweaty palms until his instincts caught up with the reality of her disinterest in him in that way?

Reciprocating her hold, Harry hugged (Y/N) to his chest. She all but melted into him, the effect of the alcohol in her system weighing her down (though he would like to imagine it was because she liked holding him as much as he did her). He was sure she could feel the rapid beat of his heart under her cheek—hopefully a distraction from the touch of his unsure hands hovering across her back. 

"You're so warm," she mumbled against the material of his shirt, the words slurred and nearly unintelligible. "You should've come out with me tonight; I forgot my jacket but I would have at least had you." 

Harry's fingers tensed over her back. The pumps of his heart throbbed down to his fingertips, his lashes fluttering in a blink. She had to stop talking like that; he was already well into losing his mind over her, there was no need to keep piling it on. 

"Sorry," he breathed, the word feeling lame as it fell from his tongue. 

He made no move to recoil from her until she did, making the first move to unwrap her arms from around his middle. His eyes followed her as she focused then on trudging to his bathroom and dressing for the night. She tossed a noncommittal promise to be right back over her shoulder before disappearing behind his bathroom door. 

Left alone, Harry sat on the edge of his bed. He looked at the floor to where her mess of discarded accessories lay in a rumpled pile, a visible cue of her presence. 

She'd never asked to stay in his bedroom like this before. Even on other nights where she clamored home with alcohol in her blood, she'd never stumbled into his room with the intention of having a "sleepover" with him. 

But, of course, the one night she does, is when she walks in on him with his hand down his pants.

The reminder of the moment had a heavy sigh heaving his chest. He wished he was just as drunk as (Y/N), that way he had a chance of possibly forgetting the incident in the morning. Instead, he had a feeling he was going to be dwelling on it for at least another week, if not more. On the plus side, it didn't appear she had any intention of talking to him about it. 

In a clumsy string of movements, (Y/N) made her entrance back into his bedroom with a strong swing of the door. Her clothing was rumpled as she padded across the floor on bare feet. She only barely acknowledged him before she threw herself onto his bed. 

Harry let out a breathy laugh. "Do y'want anything to drink or eat before y'fall asleep?" 

"No," she moaned, wriggling her way into his bedding. "Tired." 

"Do y'need to take off your makeup?" he pressed, standing to help her adjust the layers of sheets and comforter over her form.

"I already did," she countered, tugging the bedding up to her chin as she gazed up at him. Truthfully, he couldn't tell if she really did remove her makeup given the shadows still around her eyes, but if that's the story she was going with, he wasn't arguing. 

"Alright," he sighed, knotting his hands together as he stood beside his bed as if it wasn't his own, "Y'really want to have a sleepover tonight?" 

(Y/N) didn't even blink before she was nodding her head. "Yeah. Your bed is bigger than mine." 

Harry hummed, now seeing the root of her new fascination with spending the night with him. "And y'want me to stay with you?" he asked, wanting to ensure they were both on the same page. 

"Duh," she laughed, turning until she was comfortable with her head on the pillow he'd just been laying against. "Lay down, we're supposed to talk before we fall asleep like a real sleepover." 

While he found humor in the whole situation, his hands still held a slight tremor as he turned down his side—his side—of the bed. 

Was this how he was supposed to do this? How did one share a bed? Other than true sleepovers as a kid, where he and friends would squeeze into beds too small after staying up way too late, there was never a time he'd shared a bed with another. Especially not so with someone he held... extra feelings for. Feelings that he hadn't quite shaken if the way his briefs were just a touch tighter than they should be was anything to go by. 

Working on autopilot, Harry slid into bed. He could feel the dip in the mattress from (Y/N)'s body, a certain warmth spreading across his sheets he'd never experienced before. The scent of her night still clung to her, though now the fragrance of fresh sheets and Harry's own cologne swirled between them. Sleepy blinks were offered to him as he stiffly laid among his bedding, (Y/N)'s tired eyes trained on him.

He swallowed, feeling the weight of her attention on him. "What are y'th—" 

His line of questioning was cut off when (Y/N) sloppily rolled towards him, lying flush against the line of his body. She molded herself to him with a sigh, her head snuggled into the cove underneath his chin. 

"What did you do tonight?" were her mumbled words, slurred and fuzzy against his neck. 

Harry, stunned for the moment, laid still. Those moments with her head laying on his lap or a press of their shoulders together could do nothing to prepare him for this. (Y/N)'s slight shuffle against him was enough to knock him back to earth, his limbs carefully laying around her in a delicate hold. 

"Um, what?" Harry asked, mind having been wiped of the last handful of minutes. 

"What did you do while I was gone?" 

"Oh," he sounded, aware of the way his arm fell across the curve of her waist and smooth planes of her back he could feel through her top, "Nothing really; jus' took a nap and cleaned the kitchen. Nothing exciting—not like you, it sounds like." 

(Y/N) hummed from her hiding place in his neck. "Nothing exciting at all?" she sang, a teasing lilt to her drunken voice. 

Harry swallowed. She wasn't hinting at anything in particular, right? 

"I mean, I started a new book before I took m'nap," he hedged, eyes stuck on the concert poster he had pasted to his wall. "But that's really it." 

She shifted in his hold, pulling out of his arms just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were still swimming and glossy, but she didn't shy away from his gaze. There was a small tick at the corner of her lips.

"Are we not going to talk about it? Because we don't have to, I just want to know." 

His muscles wound tight as he listened to her. She kept her voice decidedly quiet, as if there was anyone else around that could overhear. 

Were they going to talk about it? That wasn't really a decision Harry wanted to make, but he couldn't turn away the option now that it was served up to him. 

"Um," he fumbled, his mouth lagging behind his racing mind, "I—Uh—I... 'M sorry." 

Canting her head, (Y/N) blinked at him. "Sorry?" 

His throat bobbed, tongue suddenly too thick in his mouth. "'M sorry, I... I didn't know y'were coming home, I wouldn't have... you know. I didn't mean for you to see or... hear." 

Please god, he hoped she hadn't heard a thing—that he said or thought. 

(Y/N)'s features cracked into a smile when she finally processed what he'd said. It only took a moment for that smile to bloom into a peal of laughter. 

"Harry, it's not that serious," she got out in-between giggles, "You didn't do anything wrong—it's not like I don't think you do that kind of stuff. I just didn't know if we were going to ignore that I walked in or if we were going to laugh about it. You're not supposed to be sorry for anything; I should have knocked, anyway." 

Harry's mouth went dry. He wasn't sure what kind of reaction this was. Was this only because of the vodka in her system? Or was she really this comfortable with the events of the evening? If it were the other way around, Harry didn't think he would be able to speak let alone laugh at the situation for at least a whole week. 

(Though that could be entirely attributed to the fact that he had that thorny crush on her stuck to the chambers of his heart). 

The lump in his throat cracked and allowed a breathy laugh to come through after a heartbeat. Maybe she was right, it wasn't that serious. It's not like she could have known he was thinking about her. They were both adults, people who were more than able and accustomed to pleasuring their bodies—there was no reason to be weird about it if she wasn't going to be. 

"Jus', should have locked m'door at least," he laughed, joining her as he sagged into the mattress. 

"Yeah," she pressed, settling against him once more now that the seal was broken between them, "I always lock my door, you're too brave." 

He hoped she didn't notice the way his hands pulsed when she so casually brought up her own moments in her bedroom. He wasn't strong enough to broach that subject just yet. 

"Maybe," he agreed, "Sorry, anyway. Not the nicest thing to come home to, that's for sure." 

"I mean," (Y/N) started, her voice breathy as she sunk into his arms, "It wasn't that bad. More embarrassing for you than anything else, I bet." 

The laughter from his chest died down then. His brain caught on her words. "Not that bad?" he parroted, unsure of what or why he was even asking. 

"I mean, you're cute, H. You know that," she said oh-so casually. "I feel bad I walked in and scared you, but I can't act like it was the absolute worst moment of my life or something." She spoke with amusement, a touch of laughter carrying out her words as if this was all so easy. 

"Oh," Harry started, swallowing around his dry throat, "Y'think 'm cute?" 

She rolled into him, tucking herself against him once more. Harry didn't doubt that she was well acquainted with the pounding of his pulse at this point. "Of course I do, you know that. You're, like, the cutest guy I know. I mean," she sighed, voice slurring even more with the dredges of sleep tugging at her words, "you didn't have to stop earlier, if you didn't want to. I could've helped." 

Harry's body stopped working in that moment. Time was moving too fast around him while he was seemingly stuck in that moment. 

What? Is that a normal thing to say? Is this what happens when you share a bed with someone, even if they were only a friend?

His palms grew clammy. "What do you mean?" 

"You know," she yawned, "Just... I know you don't go on dates or bring anyone home or anything, so I could help you if you ever wanted. You're too cute to be by yourself, H." 

What the fuck? What was even happening at the moment? Was he delusional? Or dreaming so intensely he couldn't be sure if it was real or not? But he swore, crossing his heart and all, that this was real and completely happening all while (Y/N) was tucked in his arms with her mouth hovering by his throat. 

And she was offering to jerk him off sometime. Because he was too cute to do it by himself. 

What the fuck? 

"(Y/N)?" 

Harry received no answer. Her chest pressed against his and receded in even paces, puffs of air fanning across the slope of his neck. 

Staring once more at the poster on his wall, Harry didn't feel a single sleepy bone in his body. If he had thought he was restless before, there was no way he was getting any sleep tonight. 

—————

Exhaustion shackled his limbs as Harry moved through the kitchen. Just as he figured, there wasn't more than an hour of sleep in his system, his mind running too fast to allow him any kind of relaxation. Not when there was the extra presence in his bed. 

By the time the sun cracked through his curtains and (Y/N) had rolled to show her back to him, Harry forced himself out of bed. He doubted she was going to have an easy wakeup after the night she'd had, and he was already in shambles, making breakfast essential for the both of them to get through the morning hours. 

That didn't make it any easier, though. A large part of him wanted to stay tucked amongst his sheets, cozy and warm with the best view he could imagine available just before him. Despite that urge, a smaller part of him was still drenched in the complication that came with the slurred words she offered just before dozing off. 

First of all, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be embarrassed that she noticed he'd never really dated before and definitely never brought home anyone. It was bad enough that he was well aware of his lack of dating and sex life, he wasn't comforted at the idea of (Y/N) taking note. Second, what did it even mean to be too cute to be by himself? It brought a flush to his cheeks, the implication. But, was it really a compliment to be cute? He'd never heard (Y/N) describe any of the people she was interested in as cute; they were always pretty, and glowing, and handsome, and—of course—hot as fuck. 

Harry didn't want to know where he placed on her scale of attractiveness. 

Then, lest he forget, there was the whole offer of her taking care of him. If he ever wanted, of course. 

Even just the memory of her words was enough to have his limbs going robotic as he moved through the kitchen. He was going to burn his croissant if he wasn't careful. It was enough to even overshadow the moment she had walked in on him, it was that monumental to him.

But, Harry had a feeling that she wasn't going to remember much of the night before, let alone a throwaway comment right before falling asleep. And that was going to be better for the both of them.

Once he had twin plates of scrambled eggs with cheese, buttery croissants, and cut up fruit, he was daring to step back up the stairs to his bedroom. He felt like an intruder, knowing (Y/N) was still asleep, wrapped up in his bedding. Even if it was to wake her for breakfast, he felt reluctant to pull her from much needed rest.

Though, as soon as he pushed open the door, Harry realized he wasn't going to have to worry about waking her up. Not when she was already looking at him, blinking the sleep out of her eyes with the creases of his pillow etched in her cheek.

"Harry," she sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at her eye, "You're awake." 

"You're awake," he parroted, "I didn't think I'd see y'until this afternoon." 

She nodded absently, missing the amusement in his voice. "Me neither. Where did you go? I thought you'd left me here." 

It was the pout on her face and the downward lilting of her voice that had him taking a step towards his bed. "'M sorry," he murmured, feeling guilt pinch at his heart, "I was jus' downstairs making dinner. I was about to come get you and see if y'were hungry." 

"Breakfast?" she chirped, waking up that much more at the offer of food. 

"Eggs and those croissants," he confirmed, words coming out in a song as he tempted her with the offer. 

"That sounds so good, thank you," she muttered, voice genuinely warm as her gaze wrapped around him from across the room, "Will you come lay with me for a few more minutes, though? I don't want to get up yet." 

"I can bring your plate up here, if y'want," Harry offered, though they both saw him taking those quiet steps towards her.

(Y/N) simply shook her head. "Just you." 

Those two syllables launched him back to the night prior, where she couldn't continue her night without telling him just how much she had wanted only him through her night of bar hopping. Just him—the one on her mind, supposedly. He was too cute to be by himself.

Harry didn't respond before he was slipping into bed beside her, taking up the dented spot where his body had laid stiffly the night before. She took her spot against his form wordlessly, as if it were a part of the norm to snuggle up to him in the morning. 

"Thank you for letting me sleep in here last night," (Y/N) murmured, her chest expanding against his as she peered up at him through her lashes, "I know I was kind of a mess."

"No, no," he shook his head, "Y'were jus' fine. 'M happy y'came home instead of staying somewhere y'didn't want to." 

A small peal of laughter fanned across his skin. "I think everyone was getting annoyed anyway," she started, "I kept telling them that I shouldn't have left you home alone, so I think they were ready for me to just go back." 

Harry could feel his skin going warm. With his eyes closed, he attempted to keep his breathing from hitching. She was going to kill him one of these days. 

"Y'dont' have to worry about me when y'go out, (Y/N)," he insisted, voice as quiet as the grazing of his hands across her back. "'M fine, you go have fun." 

If not for the fact he was hyper aware of her body and just how close she was, he doubted he would have noticed the small shift she made across the sheets to land further in his arms. 

"You're just," she sighed, pausing between her words, "I don't want you to feel left behind or lonely. You're a good friend and you deserve to have fun and feel good." 

Her proposition that he had pushed to the back of his mind was suddenly roped right to the front. Of course, there was the damper of being such a good friend to her that she felt this way, but there was the rest of the statement to contend with first. 

"I—um—'M fine, (Y/N). Really. 'M actually pretty good company, if y'ask me." He had hoped she would join him when he let out a breathy laugh, but he made the only sound in the room. 

The pause lasted just long enough Harry wondered if (Y/N) had fallen asleep again before he heard her voice: 

"Like last night?" His heart all but stopped in his chest. For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, time seemed to stand still while everything in his body went into overdrive. 

She wasn't supposed to remember that. She was supposed to be too plastered to remember anything, let alone the one moment with her he's ever regretted. What was he supposed to say to her? Was she teasing him, was he disgusted now that she was sober enough to have an opinion, was this one big joke that he was going to hav—

"(Y/N), I—" He started unraveling himself from her before she popped up with wide eyes. 

"No, no, I'm sorry," she rushed out, "That wasn't—I'm not trying to—I'm not making fun of you or, I don't know. I just mean..." She looked at him with uncertain crinkles by her eyes, her lips pursed as if she wanted to speak but had to hold back. 

"'M fine," he started again, sitting up amongst the rumpled bedding, "'M sorry if I ma—" 

"Do you remember what I said last night?" 

As soon as the question tumbled from her lips, Harry swore the room became five degrees hotter. 

"Do you remember?" he attempted to joke, though neither of them cracked a smile. 

She gave a nod. "About... you know. I could... help, if you wanted. So you're not by yourself." 

His mouth ran dry. There was much more power to the offer in the light of the morning with (Y/N)'s clear eyes directed to him. There was no slur of alcohol to her voice or liquid to her bones. 

She was entirely serious. So serious, she was asking him again. 

"You don't have to do that, (Y/N)," he murmured, dropping his gaze from hers. This was too much, to have to decline her—decline her pity offer after walking in on him with his hand down his pants the night before. "Really, 'm alright. I have no problem being... by myself." 

(Y/N) looked away with her lips rolled between her teeth. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. You deserve someone to look after you the way you look after me." 

"I don't think I look after you quite like that, though," he tired again, his light-hearted tone attempting to ease the tension. (Y/N) didn't grab the lifeline. 

"At least let me set you up with someone then?" (Y/N) offered this time, "I want you to meet someone you care about, then. At the very least, then we could double date." 

"I really... I don't want anyone. I'm okay." Anyone, but her was the right thing to say, but that wasn't something he was willing to admit at the moment. 

"There's this girl I know, though," she chattered off, suddenly coming to life, "You would really get along with her, H. She's super pretty, she's tall, and I don't think she likes Italian food, but we could work on—"

 "'M really okay, ser—" 

"No, H, she always loves reading—it's actually kind of funny how much she talks about all these books and—" 

Harry felt his stomach beginning to twist and turn. She could be the nicest woman in the world, this friend of hers. But there were many reasons why he was never going to take (Y/N) up on this offer. 

Starting with the fact that the one girl he had his eye on was right in front of him, and ending with the glaring truth of his virginity. He doubted (Y/N) or any of her friends like her were going to be very invested in that.

"And, not to get gross, but she's super hot. Like her body, H, you have to see her—"

"I'm a virgin." 

A flush ran up his skin, blooming his veins and reddening his skin. Why did he say that? Why did he share that? Is he suddenly an idiot? Was he now lacking a verbal filter and had to say everything that came to mind?

At the very least, (Y/N) finally stopped. The many wonderful and hot attributes of her friend had stopped. There was only a blanket of silence floating between them now. 

His heartbeat sounded in his ears before (Y/N) had any kind of reaction

"Oh," was all that fell from her lips. 

Peeking through his lashes, he was waiting for her to recoil. To look at him a little funny—the way the few that had learned that information looked at him. That moment of questioning how someone could have avoided sex (as if that was what he was up to), then wondering if there was something wrong with him, if there was something hiding under his skin that he was unwilling to share. Most people tried to recover as quickly as they could, brightening and telling him that it was alright. Plenty of people were waiting until marriage, they couldn't blame him of course! 

It was an uncomfortable conversation, one Harry let the other party lead. He never really felt like getting into the why's and the moments that he decided to turn down a potential warm bed. Or why it wasn't within his capabilities to have sex outside of a relationship with trust in the mix, or the fact that he'd never been in a relationship that met those qualifications. 

But, (Y/N) didn't do that. She looked at him with appraising eyes, not in search of something wrong. She looked at him like there was so much to be seen, to the point she couldn't believe it just because he was... him. 

"I didn't know that," she muttered, canting her head, "I always just kind of figured that you weren't." Her eyes widened then. "Wait, I've said so many things, why did you never correct me?"

Harry shrugged, the sheets rustling around him. "I know 's not... normal, so I jus' don't really talk about it. 'S easier if I jus' let y'assume." 

Her expression fell a little then. "I hope I never made you feel like you couldn't tell me," her eyes were soft as she gazed at him, "You know it didn't change anything to me, right?" 

A small smile cracked his lips. "Thanks."

She relaxed a touch then, her muscles untensing from the tension he injected with his admission. "Is it weird to ask you why? Like, why you've waited and everything?" 

"I wouldn't really say I've waited," he clarified, "I jus'... I've met people I wanted to be with and all of that, and I've had opportunities but I didn't take them." He paused, rolling his lips between his teeth; this was one of the harder bits to admit. It sounded silly even to his own ears, even if it was something he believed in. "I've never had anyone I trusted enough to share that... experience with. So I've just never." 

(Y/N) listened intently, eyes clear with a cant to her head. God, even with the harsh beating of his heart as he exhumed his secrets, she really was the absolute prettiest. 

"I get it," she muttered, "It's easier to wait than to spend the rest of your life regretting it." 

"Exactly," he exaggeratedly murmured, "'S like y'live in m'head, (Y/N)." 

His attempt at joking was enough to pull a small laugh from her chest. (Y/N) relaxed further into his bed, carving a dent into his mattress just at his side. Finally, that comfortable silence he lived in with her returned. 

He couldn't believe he'd been so flighty about this whole thing. This wasn't one of the things he needed to be nervous about, not compared to what she had walked into last night. And even that incident was less earth shattering than he made it out to be. 

(Y/N)'s tone was much less trepidatious when she spoke again, a decided difference than even a moment before. "Have you done anything else, though? Or have you waited for the whole thing?" 

"Haven't done anything," he responded, with a heaving sigh, "'M waiting on the whole experience I guess." 

"With someone you trust." 

A small smile bloomed over his features. "With someone I trust." 

A beat of silence passed between them. (Y/N) fiddled with the comforter tangled at her waist. "Can I ask you one more thing?" 

Harry hummed an acknowledgement. He should have agreed to get back into bed with her, he was beginning to consider leaving breakfast for this afternoon in favor of a quick nap. 

"Do you trust me?" 

It was the way she said it less than the actual words she said that had a pang echoing through Harry's chest. Of course, he trusted her; she was his best friend. Though, Harry doubted that was what she was trying to get at.

He gave a small confirmation in the form of a quiet yes. 

(Y/N) twisted in the sheets, looking up at him with clear eyes. Her lips glistened, the tip of her tongue having grazed over the pillows. "I know you said you're waiting and everything, but if you wanted to... change that, and you trust me...we could do whatever you wanted." 

As startling as the proposition was last night, this one inspired a twist in his stomach. This wasn't a drunken idea gone rogue. She was looking at him with a steady gaze and lips worried between her teeth. She was serious. She wanted to "do whatever" he wanted. With him. 

Despite there being no visible traces of pity on (Y/N)'s face, he truly could barely fathom the idea of her offering herself up to him so willingly. Especially after learning that there would be little he could offer in return—his skills were more than lacking. 

"(Y/N), you don't want to do that," he started, "'M alright, I d—" 

"I do," she cut him off, the words tumbling from her mouth without thought, "I do want to, I mean. You know I care about you right, Harry?" 

His mouth ran dry. "I know." 

A small smile touched her mouth. "You don't have to, obviously. I just wanted you to know that if you ever don't want to wait or kind of just want to get the pressure out of the way, I'm here."

 Was Harry going to explode? Was he going to flick through the room like a balloon deflating of helium? Or was his stomach going to swallow him whole and leave behind only the sticky tar of his feelings? 

And she was being so casual about it. She offered it as if there was no gravity to her words. 

"You don't have to say anything, though. Just remember that," she said with a soft smile, sitting up in bed with eyes on the door, "You said break—" 

"I want to." 

As soon as the declaration choked out of his throat, Harry wanted to cringe. He wanted to retract every breath, every thought, every twist of his tongue against his teeth that brought him here. Sure, she was offering, but there was such a thing as being over eager.

(Y/N) paused, glancing back to him. A light graced the hue of her irises. 

"Really?" 

He didn't trust himself to say another word. Harry only nodded. 

"You don't want to wait, anymore?" she prodded, forgetting the cracked door and the food downstairs. 

Now wasn't the time to give her the full list of why this exact moment was a dream come true (just short of having her as his girlfriend and holding her hand as they went to the movies), but she had offered a few good points. 

"I mean," he started, swallowing as his eyes dropped to the tip of her nose in avoidance of her eyes, "I do trust you. If there's anyone I know I wouldn't regret sharing this with, 's you." 

"I suppose we are best friends," (Y/N) added, layering her voice with a smile, "But, you're sure?" 

"I am," he said without a moment of hesitation, "Maybe jus' not... everything? I think that might be a bit much for me." 

"Of course, of course," she rushed out, waving her hands as if to wipe the pressure out of the air, "We'll only do what you want." 

Maybe Harry was a bit too much of an open book, unable to truly hide whatever it was that was running through his head, but he couldn't help the way his eyes immediately dropped to her hands. 

Harry knew just how soft her hands were. He'd seen the hand creams she used every night, and felt the plush skin every time they grazed hands or she made the dangerous decision of just laying a hand on his arm every time he made her laugh just a little too much. There was even once, way back when they'd first started becoming friends, that she had him to compare hand sizes. Even now, he vividly remembered just how soft her palm was against his, the stretch of her fingers that didn't reach up to the tips of his own. It was a memory he held onto and one he couldn't get out of his head at that moment. 

He'd thought more than once what it would be like to have her hand on him instead of his own between the sheets. What the visual of her pretty manicured nails, digits of her fingers, the softness of her palm would look like fisted around his length. He didn't have to know to be certain he wouldn't last very long if he ever had the chance to find out. 

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the wide smile mold (Y/N)'s features. 

"Really?" she coyly asked, stretching out her fingers from the cover of her sleeves. 

"Hm?" he hummed, forcing his eyes back to her own. 

A peal of laughter fell from her lips as she crawled back to her spot at his side. "My hands. That's all you want?" 

His skin felt flush as he nodded, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth. "Only if you want." 

She hovered above him, the tips of her hair hanging around them like a curtain. She looked like a dream there, only slats of light working across her face. Shadows sliced over her cheekbones and the length of her lashes with the pretty color of her eyes gleaming in the sun and the curve of her lips highlighted. 

He must be dreaming, but he was never this anxious in his dreams. Especially not one so lovely. 

"No one's ever done that for you before?" she asked, taking up a spot on the mattress at his side with her eyes grazing over his features. 

"Never," he confirmed, feeling his stomach stir at the feel of the heat of her body at his side. 

God was this really about to happen? 

"You're okay with me being the first?" Her voice suddenly had dropped a few octaves, a murmur in the air between them. 

He didn't have to think before he nodded. "I want you to be the first." 

Her eyes were bright, sparkling in the slat of light shining through her hair. "Right now?"

"Right now." 

She looked entirely too gorgeous to be normal when she smiled at him. "Just show me what you like, then. I'm all yours." 

His stiffening cock jumped at her words. She needed to stop talking like that if she didn't want him to embarrass himself. 

With that, (Y/N) wiggled her hand under his own on his abdomen, amusement in her eyes. Harry felt his breathing hitch at the simple touch. Just as soft as he thought. 

In an effort to preserve some semblance of his sanity, he closed his eyes before wrapping the length of his fingers around her hand. It was a moment, a full heartbeat pounding through his ears, before he pulsed his hand around hers in an affectionate squeeze and traced her hand down his middle. 

He could feel the tense of his muscles under his shirt, his legs spreading just that much wider. The ghost of her touch was a stark reminder that he never finished the job last night. 

Amongst his rumpled bed sheets, Harry couldn't be sure that this was even real life. Not that he spent any specific amount of time picturing what this first time would be like, but he could admit that he never really thought it would be like this. Not in sweatpants that had a stain from the eggs he had scrambled only twenty minutes prior. Not with his hand being the guiding force down to the waist of his bottoms. Not with (Y/N).

His cock stirred when their joined hands reached the elastic band of his sweatpants. Despite not even feeling her bare skin on his, goosebumps were raised. Was he going to embarrass himself by finishing within seconds? Harry had a feeling that was going to be the scenario at hand. 

(Y/N) wiggled her hand out from under his, hooking her fingers in the waist under her own volition. "You're still alright? With all of this?" 

"Yeah," Harry breathed out, his voice a hair above a whisper in hopes of disguising the tremor. 

"Okay," she said, looking up at him for a brief moment with a reassuring smile, "If you don't want to anymore, though, just let me know. We'll have breakfast and pretend nothing happened." 

His heartbeat sped up at her declaration. He knew he could trust her—with his body, with his delicate feelings, with his life, even. 

Harry didn't move his eyes from her even when she directed her attention to her hand. He watched her as she pushed his sweatpants down, the band falling just far enough down to hit the end of his boxer-briefs. His mouth fell open as he attempted to gain any insight into what she might be thinking, this being the first time he'd ever been this exposed to anyone before. Even with the layer of his underwear on, he'd never been in front of anyone in an undergarment like this. 

(Y/N) didn't give much away, only the cautious pace of her movements indicated the gravity of this moment. She skated her palm over the jut of his hip, easing him into the feel of her touch; he doubted she missed the way his cock jumped. His body reacted readily to each of her touches: goosebumps on his skin, bunched muscles in his abdomen, lungs squeezing in his chest, and the bruising hold of his teeth over his bottom lip. 

His hip was only the first step before she continued her path. She grazed the top of his thigh, nails denting into his skin in gentle pressures. His breath caught when she touched the lump of his cock, enough so that his chest shuddered. She lingered there, going so far as to give a slight squeeze, only causing him to harden more in her grip.

"I'm going to put my hand underneath, okay?" (Y/N) shared, voice quiet before he felt the first touch of her fingertips. 

"Okay," he answered involuntarily, tongue thick in his mouth. He was so gone for her in the moment, it was hard to think straight.

Harry lifted his hips to help her pull down his briefs, leaving them bunched at the mid of his thighs. His cock bobbed free, flushed and ruddy already. He doubted any other person in the world would have gained a reaction like this one. 

This time, he caught (Y/N)'s first real reaction. Her eyes widened, grazing over the length of him as she pulled her bottom lip between his teeth. She laid her hand on his abdomen for a beat, absently curling her fingers in the hem of his shirt she'd only pushed up and out of the way.  

Suddenly, she seemingly shook herself out of her head, looking up at Harry with a blink of her eyes. 

"Is it alright if I move a little?" she murmured, "I want to get more comfortable, if that's okay." 

She asked as if he had the power to deny her of anything, especially something so inconsequential. 

As soon as Harry nodded, she shifted at his side. Kicking the comforter off of her legs, she rolled to lay on her side next to him. He instinctively wrapped an arm underneath her, his palm landing just between her shoulder blades. The cuddling felt a little more inconsequential now that she had a hand traveling down his form, even if the feel of her chest pressed against him was enough to have his blood pumping faster. 

Now that she was settled, (Y/N) resumed her ministrations with both of their eyes trained on the movement of her hand. Harry swore it was just the fact that she was looking at him at all that had the blurt of precum seeping from his head, a pearl glistening in the morning light. 

"Just—um—if I do something you like, tell me and I'll try to keep doing it," she spoke distractedly, a slight rasp to her voice he hadn't anticipated in his fantasies. 

His mumble of okay was lost as soon as he saw her bring her hand to her mouth. He watched on as she dragged her tongue across her palm, slicking the skin before wrapping her fist around his base. 

"Oh, fuck," he let out, barely audible over the heavy sigh that carried out the words. He fought to keep his eyes open, spying the way (Y/N)'s features curled into a smile with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

She did a precursory drag of her hand over his length, the pacing slow and aching. Harry could feel every crease and pillow of her palm. God, she was just as soft as he imagined. 

His chest shuddered as he watched her pretty nails sparkling in the light. The pink polish seemingly mimicked the flush of his head, glimmering and sparkling like the slick of her spit over his shaft. If that wasn't bad enough, seeing the fact that her fingers didn't even connect around the girth of him was going to kill him. Were her hands that small or was he bigger than he thought? 

As if hearing his thoughts, a mutter came from (Y/N), "You're so big, H. I had no idea." 

He wanted to say something (was it corny to say "thank you" to something like that?), instead only a rumbling groan came from his chest. The pillows under his head were the perfect cushions when he couldn't handle keeping it up anymore. He was already flushed and warm, muscles too tight for comfort, and stomach tightening into a burn. And she'd barely even started. 

Hearing his reaction was enough to spur her on, dragging her fist over and over his length. Periodically, she swiped her thumb over his crown, spreading the pearls of precum he let out. The slick passes of her hand rang out through his bedroom, competing with the puffs of his heavy breathing as the most erotic sound filtering through his bedroom. 

"Ti-Tighter," he choked out, his arm around her back holding her flush to his side. 

(Y/N) didn't respond, but he immediately felt the vice of her hand tighten that much more around his length. Another string of curses fell from his lips, his throat thick. 

"Is this good?" she asked, turning until she was looking up at him with wide eyes. Her pupils were dilated, darkening the hue of her irises. 

Harry wasn't able to think as he looked at her. She was his dream, the ultimate fantasy. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, her manicured hand squeezing around his cock. And for the first time, he noticed she was rubbing her thighs together as she took care of him. His free hand clutched the mess of his sheets; he wouldn't be surprised if he found holes in the fabric later. 

"So good," Harry breathed, the words broken on his tongue, "So, so good, (Y/N)." 

The smile she gave him was devastating.

Was she crazy? Was she trying to send him over the edge this quickly? He was starting to think so. 

"I was going to ask if you wanted it tighter, but I think we've found it," she teased, entirely too light-hearted for one of the most monumental moments of his life. 

"Y-Yeah," he answered, feeling delirious, "(Y/N), I-I'm close. 'M sorry." 

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, a pinch appearing between her brows, "This is about you, you don't have to be sorry. Cum whenever you want—as long as you feel good, I don't care." 

Her pace was unrelenting, the slap of her hand hitting his base mimicking the beat of his heart. 

"Fuck, (Y/N)," he muttered, voice strained, "Let me—I don't want to make a m-mess on you, I can grab—" 

She shushed him, shaking her head against his chest. "I can handle a little mess, H, it's okay. Stop thinking about me, this is about you." 

Stop thinking about me, as if that were ever an option for him. 

Still the sentiment stuck the same, especially her willingness to allow him to leave any kind of mark on her, including one so primitive. 

He spared a glance down at her. Her features were mostly hidden give the angle and the wisps of her hair in the way, but he could still see the flutter of her lashes as she watched herself getting him off, he could see the pinch of her nose and the gape of her lips. He could see her thighs squeezed tightly together, the shirts covering her modesty turning tight and especially short around her hips. 

God, this was (Y/N) on him. That was her pretty, soft hand on his length. That was her chest pressed to his ribs, only layers away from feeling the heavy beating of his heart. That was her wrapped up in the sheets holding his scent and so eagerly and happily fisting his cock. 

"Shit," he moaned, his voice rumbling and deep as he threw his head back, "(Y/N), 'm cumming, love." 

There was a void in the pit of his stomach that tightened and popped in that moment, unraveling him from the inside out. His balls tightened at his base just before the first rope off is cum spurted from his tip. The mess he'd worried about came to life then, white ribbons projecting as far up to the chest of his top, others dripping down his length and further wetting (Y/N)'s hand. 

Guileless moans echoed from his chest, filling the room as he came for the first time at the hand of another. His body urged him to close his eyes, the visuals before him being too much for his fragile psyche. But Harry fought the instinct. There was no way he was missing even a single frame of this; there was likely never going to be another time he had the privilege of laying with (Y/N) like this, he wasn't going to let anything get in the way. Including his eyelids. 

She didn't slow down as she helped him through the throes, her own breathing turning rough and off-kilter. Her toes curled in her socks, thighs pressed tightly together. 

Harry could have been up in the stratosphere for hours with the way he slumped against the bed exhausted by the time the final drop of his release slithered down his cock. (Y/N) slowed, though she kept going until the final aftershock left his spine and Harry had to pull her hand away before he burst into flames. 

His breathing came in heavy puffs, lips parted and swollen. He didn't need to see himself to know that his cheeks were cherry red with a nose to match, his curls pasted to his temples with sweat, and his eyes just a bit wild. 

Despite pushing her hand out of the way, (Y/N) didn't think before she laced their fingers together. Her touch was a bit sticky now, but there was no way Harry was going to complain. He kept his arm aprons her back tight, fingers denting the soft plane between her shoulder blades. 

He could have laid there for days, feeling the warmth of (Y/N)'s body and her soft hand in his. If not for the fact his cum had begun to dry and go cold. At the very least he needed to clean (Y/N) up—he doubted it was good bedroom etiquette to leave her to clean up after his mess. 

Forcing his eyes open, Harry blindly reached for the tissue box he kept on his bedside table (truthfully, it was for the hay fever he always seemed to have, but the sheets definitely had their convenient uses. Uses he would never admit to, of course). Reluctantly, he peeled (Y/N)'s hand out of his, wiping the streak of his cum marring her palm. 

A breathy giggle fell from her lips. 

"What?" he asked, his voice bubbled and cracked. 

"Nothing," she smiled, "You're just sweet." 

For some odd reason, he flushed harder than he should at something so mundane. 

"Thank you," he peeped, cleaning the stray strings that reached up to her wrist. 

As soon as (Y/N) was free from the traces of him, he took care of his own thighs and the streaks that hit his shirt. The pile of tissues he had to take to the trash made a little mountain on his bedside table by the time he had himself tucked away and sweatpants laying against his hips once more. 

"Um," he started, unsure of what to say after an experience like that. What even qualified as pillow talk, and how did one start it with someone that was just his roommate? "I'll be right back," he settled on, reaching for the mess of tissues, "'M going to cl—" 

"Harry." 

He didn't think before he looked at her. Her eyes were still full of dilated pupils with swollen lips, but the way she looked at him held more tenderness than he thought capable in a moment like this. 

"Stay with me for a second," she requested, her voice a soft coo. 

There wasn't a second thought to be had as he listened to her command. If he thought he was gone for her before, that was nothing compared to the endorphins coursing through him every time she looked at him in that moment. 

(Y/N) didn't wait before she was rolling to wrap him in a hug. It was a bit awkward, the way she had to stretch up to loop her arms around his neck and the way their legs tangled in the sheets. But it was more than worth it. 

Harry had always pictured himself to be the kind of guy that would want a cuddle after sex, but he never could have imagined just how vital this kind of contact would be after something so intense. Despite this being levels below the real act, Harry still clung to her. 

Every time his chest inflated with a whiff of her hair and sullied perfume, she deflated with a breath that fanned across his neck. Kicking free of the sheets, (Y/N) opted instead to curl her legs between his in a welcome tangle. Her warmth radiated through the material of her shirt, a soothing heat that brought him back down to earth. 

He didn't think before the words were being whispered into her hair: "Thank you." 

The smile on her face was audible when she spoke, "You're welcome, Harry." 

He couldn't help but squeeze her that much harder. "I'm sorry I can't offer anything in return," he admitted, a frown etching its way onto her lips, "I-I could try, I jus' don't think I'll be very good or—" 

She shushed him with a press of her lips to his cheek. It was an act that took his already fragile breathing out of pace once more. The tip of her nose grazed his skin, the plush of her lips hitting right where he knew his dimple to be when he smiled. 

"Stop talking," she laughed when she finally—regretfully—pulled away. "This was all about you, Harry. I'm just happy that you felt good, and trusted me enough to let me do this with you. That's all I need." 

He could only hug her harder. 

Harry would have laid there for hours, happily so, even when he could feel the strength returning to his muscles and the beat of his heart leveling out, but (Y/N) was the first to pull away. She pressed another soft kiss to his cheek before she untangled herself from him. 

Her eyes practically glimmered as she looked down at him. "You said there was breakfast downstairs, right?" 

That was enough to get a full laugh echoing from his chest, his lungs squeezing in the best way possible. 

He was never, ever going to be free of this crush on her. Not now. 

—————

pomegranates, an ancient roman wedding gift; the fruit hades offered to persephone to keep her in the underworld. with him.

ahhhhhhh thanl u sm for reading! so sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas or anything please send them in!

[obxsummer]

leave me again // jj maybank

pairing: ex!jj maybank x routledge!reader

request: Routledge reader and JJ broke up during the 18 months and now she watches him with Kie? 🫢👀

summary: based on the song by kelsea ballerini; after two years together, you return to outer banks only to lose jj to kiara in a blink of an eye.

warnings: minor szn 4 spoilers, angst hehehe

navigation

--

You didn’t understand. You really didn’t. 

How could you go from such a beautiful relationship and one of the happiest times of your life to watching your best friend get together with your ex-boyfriend? It seemed like such a cruel joke to watch people who had been with you your entire life turn against you in this way. 

It took less than a week for JJ to cut things off after everyone came back from El Dorado, claiming he needed to reevaluate everything and take time for himself. Apparently, that didn’t last long, because three days later, you caught Kiara sharing his bed in Sarah’s rental condo, looking like the happiest he’d ever been.

"I can explain, just-"

The scene in front of you was sick. You'd heard JJ yell out in his sleep, something that was more common than not with his nightmares. Instincts had you in front of his door before you knew it, wanting to comfort him in case he needed someone. You didn't expect to find this.

JJ, shirtless, next to Kiara, of all people, who was wearing the boy's shirt. In bed. Together.

Whatever JJ wanted to say, you didn't give him a chance to hear it. Lips tucked in a thin line, you gave a nod. "Sorry for interrupting, hope everything's okay."

And with a smile on your face and no room for explanations, you closed the door.

“Are you still avoiding them?” Sarah’s voice came from behind as you watched JJ and Kie prep the boat for the upcoming dive. 

You huffed, “Do you blame me?”

She stopped to stand beside you, her eyes watching the duo on the boat move together. “There’s no chemistry.”

“Not a bit.”

Sarah watched you carefully as if she was waiting for the dam to break. In the almost three weeks JJ and Kie had been ‘together’, you hadn’t cried and you hadn’t lashed out. You’d told her the second you found them in bed and they started spewing excuses, you just apologized for interrupting and dismissed yourself with a smile.

John B was concerned. As your older brother, it was his job to defend you and watch out for you, no matter the circumstance. When the two of you first got together, John B made JJ swear that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, swearing there would be consequences. While you’d kept your cool, he did not and JJ managed to catch himself a black eye and swollen cheek as a result. 

“Has John B talked to them?”

“Has John B what?” Your brother interrupted your question as he joined the two of you in the shop, hauling a hefty backpack. He reached out to grab your shoulder and squeezed it lightly. “You okay?”

You nodded in response, clamping your mouth shut and looking back at the water. Kiara was going down on the dive with JJ, something about not leaving him alone which made your eyes roll. Pope and John B were going on the boat, leaving you, Sarah, and Cleo on shore to be lookout. 

“Are you lying to me?”

You’d lost so many pieces of yourself in the moments shared with JJ, allowing the vulnerability you had believed he would never take advantage of.  It was no surprise John B could see through the cracks you’d inevitably let form. You sighed, head dropping between your shoulder blades as you let out a steady breath. “I’m fine, Bee. Promise.”

John B was unconvinced by your words but didn’t push. He heard your almost silent crying at night. It was obvious you were hurting by the way you closed yourself off and hid in your skin. He hated that his so-called best friend was the one to treat you this way and cause you to feel like this. 

“You can take a break,” He reassured as his backpack dropped to the ground as he pulled you into a full hug and placed a kiss on your head. “Nobody would blame you.”

You hugged him back and fought off the tears that burned your eyes. There would be a point and time to talk about all of this, but it wasn’t here and now. If you were being honest, there was nothing you’d rather do than run away from Kildare right now, but it wouldn’t be the best option by any means.

“You guys ready up there?” JJ’s voice echoed around the morning air as he called out to John B. 

You hugged your brother tighter before letting go, forcing a smile on your lips. “Be careful, please?”

He rubbed your head lovingly, smiling when you tried to shove him away. “Always.”

You stepped away to give him time with Sarah and started to head back toward the house when someone called your name. JJ’s shoes stomped against the new wooden deck, the sound getting louder as he got closer. You froze in your spot as he rounded to stop you from walking away. “Can we talk?”

You stared at him for a moment, wondering how someone you loved so incredibly much could make you feel this way. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

When you moved to pass him, he grabbed your elbow gently to prevent it. “Please, I just want to get this out before… in case I don’t-”

“You’ll be back.” It was hard to avoid the instinct of reassuring him. He swallowed thickly and met your gaze. He would be back, you just didn't know if you'd be here to see it. The two of you hadn’t been alone since everything went down and there was plenty of awkwardness to show. 

“I just… I’m sorry. About everything. I should’ve told you, but it all happened so fast and-”

“Did you ever love me?” The question came out of your mouth before you could think about it. You wanted to ask it for a while, to find out exactly what went through his head when he let Kiara climb in bed with him that night.

The opening and closing of his mouth was enough of a response to shatter you. Tears formed faster than you liked as you nodded.

“Figured," You breathed out, "Goodbye, JJ.”

You left him on the dock and didn’t look back as you walked away. From him, from Kie, from the friends you considered family until they made you feel like anything but. You swore then and there that you would never fall for someone in that way again. 

After all, staying only made you get real good at pretend.

--

Coming back from the dive had been a mess of chaos. Kie and JJ were at the hospital recovering from nitrogen in their blood while the remainder of the group came back to the house with the amulet, hoping to figure out what was inscribed inside. 

John B called your name as he entered the house, practically bouncing in excitement to tell you what they’d found. You’d opted to stay back after speaking to JJ on the dock, which they didn’t fault you for, knowing you needed time alone.

When silence followed JB’s call, he frowned. Something wasn’t right. The main floor was empty, not a sign of you or your relative presence in the area. Room empty too, leaving John B to question where the hell you went. They had the Twinkie and the dirt bikes were outside which meant if you went anywhere it would be on your own two feet.

“John B.”

The tone in Sarah’s voice told him his intuition was right. She met him in the doorway of your room with a piece of paper in hand, holding it in his direction. He didn’t even need to read it to know the answer to his question.

You were gone. And you weren’t coming back any time soon.

--

part two here :)

a/n: i hate this i'm so sorry

navigation

[gold-onthe-inside]

contingency operations

n. def. - a situation requiring military operations in response to natural disasters, terrorists, subversives, or as otherwise directed by appropriate authority to protect US interests.

who? spencer reid (s7) x analyst!reader summary: when a former navy SEAL threatens your base of operations, your safety is the only thing on spencer's mind. content warnings: jealous and pining spencer, gun talk, spencer kind of manhandles you, spencer getting cockblocked by jj word count: 1.8k a/n: don't hate me, i didn't have his confession speech planned.

It’s not that far a stretch for you to be the first person he thinks of — while JJ’s negotiating with her DoD contacts to get them a look at a classified operation, he’s gone upstairs to look for you. Working in counterintelligence meant you had access to all kinds of information, whether that be domestic or international. Spencer carefully carried the cup of coffee, file pinned under his arm, aiming to find you at your cubicle, except you’re standing at another one, perched on the table while you talked to another person.

Spencer’s not the kind to get jealous, or so he thought, except the guy you’re talking to isn’t like the others who occupy the floor — he’s got broad shoulders and an easy smile, and at least if he was blond, he wouldn’t have been competition. He just had to be a brunet, charming to top it off. Spencer doesn’t know if he’s ever made you smile unless you were teasing him.

The longer he stands there, the more awkward he feels, and he eventually gets the nerve to knock on your desk and make you look up — an improvement to a year ago where he would have just pretended to look lost and leave. His stomach turns when he watches you place your hand on the guy’s shoulder, squeezing as you walk away.

“Is that a bribe I see?” you asked, the corner of your lip curling as you spied the coffee in his hand.

“Nope, it’s completely unrelated to the favor I came to ask,” Spencer said, earning a rueful look as you take it and sit in your chair.

“What do you need?” you asked, sipping the coffee that was made perfectly to your liking — he'd gotten to know your preferences better over the last year, spending more time together since the Doyle case. You'd been an escape from the suffocating emptiness of the bullpen, and he'd been good company when you had been barred from Penelope's lair for 6 months.

“Anything you might have on Dorado Falls,” Spencer said, his voice rising an octave in hope that you might help as you go through your files.

“And Pen can’t do this because?” you asked, pulling up your file directory.

“She doesn’t have clearance,” Spencer said, lacing his fingers together and twisting it in his nervousness. As expected, you turn your head to look at him.

“You want eyes on a classified op you don’t have the clearance for?” you asked, raising a brow at him.

“Yes?” He's got this puppy-eyed look, like when he asks if you have lunch plans, or if you want to see a 4-hour long sci-fi film that's only available in Russian.

“Reid,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your forehead. “I can’t just—”

“He killed 8 people in one day,” Spencer insisted in a hushed voice. “He’s got a U.S. General as a hostage, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” He watched your folded lips, your contemplative look, and he can finally take a breath when you turn your chair and acquiesce.

“You people are gonna get me fired one of these days,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer leaning over your shoulder as you find the file you’re looking for. “Navy SEAL operation, 2003, this what you’re looking for?” you asked, his breath fanning over your cheek, warm and coffee-tinged. If you turned your head, you could probably kiss his cheek — not that you would. But the thought crosses your mind as he nodded.

“That’s the one,” he said, and moved when you had to reach for the drawer, copying the file onto a clean flashdrive before ejecting it.

“I like my job, Reid,” you said, turning to look at him, which you could do forever with his coiffed hair and blue sleeves rolled to his elbows, paired with a grey vest. “If I get fired, you’re paying my rent,” you continued, pressing the flashdrive into his hand and his lips break into a smile.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he replied, closing his hand over the drive and leaving you to your work, and you watched him walk until he got to the glass doors, holding back a laugh as you watched him break into an awkward run for the elevators.

The next time he goes to your floor, he doesn’t bother waiting for the lift, running up stairs as fast as he can to get to you before the unsub does — even though it’s wholly unprofessional. He needs to be with his team, ready to talk down the unsub at a moment’s notice, but his focus shattered the moment he found out you hadn’t evacuated yet. Instead, you were focused on activating a failsafe program, in case anyone other than the members of your division moved to access the network on your floor.

“What are you still doing here?” Spencer yelled at you, almost skidding to your cubicle.

“Almost done, give me a second,” you said, gritting your teeth, fingers flying over your keyboard as you authenticate yourself. “Jesus Christ, I need to make this program faster,” you muttered and Spencer swears that if the unsub doesn’t kill you, he might.

“Really? There’s a Navy SEAL breaking into the building, and you’re thinking of more projects to work on?” he demanded, his hands pressed to his revolver.

“There’s a Navy SEAL on his way and you think a cowboy pistol’s gonna save you?” you retorted sharply.

“What do you have against my gun?” he asked, his voice rising in octave again.

“Uh, how about the reload for one,” you said. “What, do you carry around spare bullets in your pocket? Plus the recoil rules out rapid fire. What are you gonna do if you get pinned down?”

“I’m gonna keep you from getting killed,” he said, reaching out to grip your bicep. “You’re right, I don’t have the firepower of an uzi, what I can do is get us out of this room,” he finished, tugging your arm.

"Hold on, it's almost done," you muttered.

"No, I'm dragging you out of here now-" He said, but you just shrugged, still tapping away at the keys with only your left hand free.

"No, you can't," you said idly as you continued to work. "You haven't the strength to get me to move without cooperation, and I'm not leaving until I finish this."

“I-“ he opened his mouth, then closed it. What was he going to say? That you were being stubborn for the sake of it? That your life was more important than this task? That you should get up, and run with him? That he’d save you? He couldn’t voice any of those. You both knew them all anyway, and you’d be able to rebuff them with ease. “Just hurry, please.”

He leaned closer to you, trying to ignore the soft scent of your hair.

"Oh, well, now that you've told me to hurry," you responded dryly, turning your face to look at him, inches away from his. The proximity surprised him, but he barely had time to think about it before you were hitting return and taking your hand off the keys.

“Done,” you announced, standing up. “Time to run. Unless, of course, you want to argue about that too?”

"Can we?" he asked, pulling you along the corridor. "I do have a list of complaints about your recklessness."

"You have a list of complaints about everything," you retorted as he opened the fire escape door for you. You stepped through, Spencer closing the door behind you both.

"Your general attitude is up there," He admitted, running down the stairs and pulling you after him. "Your inability to keep yourself safe, your tendency to throw yourself into danger for the sake of a project—"

"Jesus Christ, Reid, if we find out a rogue operative is going to break in, you don't think we'd have a protocol for it?" you argued, frustrated.

"Yes, I believe the protocol is to evacuate," he reminded you, reaching the landing. He kept you close, though he'd never admit that it was to reassure himself.

"God, for a genius, you really are daft," you muttered, rounding the corner to another flight of stairs. "You think we'd just leave the entire network open for him?"

"No," he allowed, following your hurried footsteps. "But I don't think your life should be worth the risk. No data is worth you dying."

"Yeah, how about dozens of classified operations and cover identities that need to be kept under wraps?" you snapped at him. "I was doing my job, you're the one who came looking for me when you should be with your team."

"The team knows my priority is with you," he admitted, then immediately regretted it because that was information that he hadn't been planning to tell you.

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him. "What does that mean?"

His eyes widened and he backtracked. "The team knows that if you're threatened, the likelihood is I'll disregard protocol," he said. Well, it was the truth, even if it wasn't really what he'd meant. "We should keep moving," he said.

"No, you can't keep doing this," you demanded, pulling at his arm. "Every time, every time, you say this cryptic coded thing that I don't know what to do with. Just say what you mean, already!"

"I-I don't..." Spencer's heart was hammering in his chest, his eyes wide. The truth was, he wanted to tell you. He wanted you to know where you stood with him... but the fear of rejection would stop him every time. He was in love with you. He hadn't had the courage to admit it yet. His earpiece interrupts him, and for once in his life, Reid is almost glad to have his earpiece interrupt his thoughts.

“Reid, we’re seeing movement on the 7th floor, where are you?” JJ asked, her voice rushed.

"I'm in the stairwell with the most stubborn woman in the world," he said, looking pointedly at you as you scowled at him.

“Get back up here,” JJ replied. “We need all hands on deck.”

"I'm coming," he said, and looked at you. "So much for getting you out," he murmured. "If you run now, can I trust you won't go back to your desk?"

“Believe it or not, I have no interest in facing a 6 ft Navy SEAL,” you replied dryly.

"So that's a yes," he says, smiling despite his attempt to remain serious.

I'm in love with you, he thought, but he wasn't brave enough to say.

I don't want to lose you. He was even less willing to voice that.

"Don't stop running till you're out," he told you instead, his voice as firm as he could make it.

"Don't get killed by a SEAL," you replied, your sense of humor never failing you as you add, "Although, it would be a cool way to go out."

"I'm sure you'll be very smug about it at my funeral," he said, but neither of you were really smiling anymore. "I'll be okay," he promised you. "Get out of here."

You take one last lingering look at him, then started running down to the exit, leaving him behind.

It took him a full 5 seconds to start moving after you finally left, and the feeling of emptiness in his chest only grew with each step up the stairs.

He was in love with you, and he was determined to tell you.

Just not yet.

[lazilybeinglassie]

Silly Little Dummy (Shadow Milk x Reader)

CW: Hypnosis, possessiveness, bad ending

You get what you read and you read what you get, this is your only warning!

The halls were endless. Stairs with no beginning or end. You had no way of navigating the chaos. You were so certain you found a way out, only to be tricked by those minions of Shadow Milk.

Of course you had to screw up and find your way trapped in this hell hole. Why couldn't you have left with the others.

After a couple of turns however, you found yourself at a dead end. Frustrated, you hoped to turn around and try again. Only for a familiar face to appear in front of you.

"My my, what do we have here~?"

Reflexively, you stumble back, hitting the wall behind you. Fear crawling through your skin as you stare wide eyed at the beast. His expression delightful as though he were playing an innocent game.

"Another one of Silly Vanilly's buddies? Lost and alone? Strayed from the path?" Shadow Milk snickered darkly. "I will admit, amongst those on the list, I didn't expect you to show up. Ah well! That's what improve is for!"

Looking around for a way to slip away, you don't even notice the vines on the stone wall crawling out. In an instant they snag your limbs and hold you still as you struggle. You're growls of protest are not lost to the villain as he hovers closer.

"There's no need to fret. I'll give you such simple stage directions. All you need to do is listen and watch me."

His hand grabs your chin as he turns your face to look at him. Eyes making contact, you glare in defiance. As you watch him, you notice his bright eyes and how they seemed to be glowing. An intense, radiating glow that wasn't blinding, but it was distracting.

The pupils seemed to dilate a little, looking a little fuller than usual. Then they started to pulse. Rings of blue, white and black growing like ripples in water. At a steady beat, it continues on and on in a mesmerizing pattern. Ring after ring, you couldn't do anything aside from watching it continue.

Your heart beat slows, and your panic seems to diminish. What for? Aren't you in trouble? What was it that was calming you down?

Another pulse. You breathe calmly.

Shadow Milk hums. "There we are. No need for all that fuss. All that running just seemed to have worn you out, hasn't it?"

You stammered as you blinked. "Wh-No! I-"

He uses his other hand to shush you. "Shhhhhh. No more talking. Just listen and watch."

Another pulse. Your attention is drawn back to his eyes. The aura appearing bright and soft. You don't know why, but it's all so captivating in the moment. Blue, black and white, looping over and over and over.

Your body tenses when it feels something brush your cheek. "Listen closely. Listen to every word I say now. Focus on my voice and do not stray. Feel yourself drawn to my enchanting voice."

Another pulse. Your body relaxes. Shadow Milk's tone was gentle and sweet. Caressing your eardrums as you continue to stare. There was hardly anything else you felt like doing. Just staring into those eyes. Those captivating eyes.

Blue, black and white.

A small part of you tried to speak up. Not much came out. Stutters and noises. But hardly any words. "I- . . . uh, I . . . "

"Awwww, look at yourself. Trying to tell me something?"

"I . . . um . . . "

"Do you feel tired, perhaps? You've been running for a while now. So much running, so much worry. Doesn't it feel exhausting?"

The feeling of something holding your chin disappears. You don't look away from his entrancing stare. The beast's head nods, you mimic the movement. He giggles at that.

As that happens, the vines start to coil you more and more. Pulling you away from the wall as your wrapped in a cocoon of plants. Leaves start to fall off of them and scales start to grow. Changing into serpents that wrap around you from your shoulders to your feet.

Another pulse. You sigh as your body sinks into the cocoon.

"Just too many thoughts in that little head of yours. Crowding all that space up there." Shadow Milk places a hand on the top of your head. Then slowly strokes down the back soothingly. Once he pulls his hand away, he puts it back on top and repeats the motion. "Let them go for now. Little by little, piece by piece. Empty your mind for me."

Each stroke, you feel yourself settle and sigh. Your clouded mind, so fuzzy and blurry, starts to clear bits at a time. Parts where you were worried and scared start to fade away. Parts where you thought of escaping dim to nothing. Pure Vanilla. Gingerbrave. Strawberry. Wizard. White Lily. Those names slip from your consciousness one by one.

Shadow Milk grins as he tilts your face up. Looking deeper into his eyes, you feel as though the light had enveloped your vision. Endless ripples, colors bleeding into every direction. What once there were two pupils, now merged into one as they continue to captivate your mind.

Breaking eye contact, Shadow Milk floats genlty to your side. You remain focused in one direction as though he never left. But the beast leans close to your ear as he whispers to you softly.

"Nothing left in there now, huh?" You don't respond. "Why don't I take things from here? Does that sound nice?"

Absent mindedly, you whimper as though you want to say something. Whether it was a yes or a no, you couldn't tell.

"Oh I bet it sounds wonderful. You love hearing my voice, don't you?"

Another noise comes from your throat. "mmmmmhmmmmmm . . . "

"You don't mind my touch either. It makes you feel happy, right?"

Stroking your cheek, he looks to you for a reaction. You exhale and smile contently.

"There is nothing more you want to do that hear my voice and let me hold you close. Your mind is always open to me, and you always will obey my will. Because it's everything you could ever want."

Another pulse. Your will shatters.

It doesn't take long before your own eyes start to glow blue with their own ripples dancing inside. Looking dazed and empty, you stare at nothing as the colors claim what is left of you.

Shadow Milk grins in victory. "Much better, my dear."

The serpents slowly release you, placing your body standing up. You lean forward, slouching a bit, only to feel threads straighten you up.

"Now then, I believe we have an audience to appeal! You know your place, right?"

He strokes your chin. Leaning into the touch, you blush and melt. "Uh-huh."

Shadow Milk's grin widens. "Wonderful~!"

[antiquatedmagic]

tag drop.

[aperrywilliams]

Ocean (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer has shut you out for months, and you don’t know how to get to him. A new argument endures, and you think this might be your last chance to make him understand how deep your love for him is.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angst/hurt/comfort. Spencer doesn't want to see reasons. Reader and Spencer cry. Mention to Spencer’s time in Milburn.

A/N: It’s just another self-indulgent fic to tell our boy how great he is.

---------------

"Are you going to say something?"

Your voice is clipped, and you feel a whole storm bubbling inside of you. Spencer's silence doesn't help to ease your desperation—a last call for some hope in your already damaged relationship.

As he sits on the couch, his eyes are lost in the window of your shared apartment, tranced by the distant bustling of the streets below. It seems everything is better than looking at you right now.

‘How can someone stand so damn close

And feel like they're a world away?

I can see your sad story eyes

So how do you have no words to say?’

“Please, say something. Anything."

Your insistence sharply contrasts with the demanding tone with which you initiated this conversation—or fight, as Spencer accused you earlier.

Still standing in front of him, you only want him to look at you, to see in his eyes what he really wants.

“Do you want me to leave? That's it?”

You don't know what else to do or say. After bickering for a solid forty-five minutes, Spencer decided he didn't want to respond to your questions/accusations anymore. Coincidence? Hell no. He went silent just after you touched a nerve mentioning the tabu, the only thing Spencer decided must remain unspoken: the three months he was locked in Milbum.

You understood his reluctance at first. Of course you did. Putting in words the nightmare of his days there can’t be easy for anyone, and to Spencer, you bet your ass it was tougher. To lose control, to engage in a world he only knew from afar. Exposed. Vulnerable.

You understood why he didn't want you to visit him there. His pride and self were wounded. However, you would never resent him for it. You said it to him but respected his wishes so as not to put more pressure on his shoulders.

It didn't hurt less, but you were willing to take it.

Weeks followed, and the only news you had about your boyfriend were the messages and phone calls from his coworker, Penelope, and his boss, Emily.

The day he was released must have been the most chaotic you had in your life. And for Spencer, sure, it was worse: His mom was kidnapped by another psychopath, threatening her life.

As Spencer hugged Diana at the BAU, you stayed back, looking from afar, not wanting to disturb such an important moment.

Penelope hugged him after, and then JJ and Tara. The whole team welcomed him before you had the chance to.

When your time came, your eyes locked for the first time in months, and you knew. That man wasn’t the same Spencer you saw the night before he went to Mexico. And you were far from expecting he was, but something felt different with you compared to the reaction he had with the rest of the people there.

Not saying a word, Spencer enveloped you in a tight embrace. Hiding his face in the crook of your neck, he couldn't articulate anything to say. You were the one who reassured him, mumbling encouraging words.

‘Everything is going to be okay. You’re safe now.’

And you believed every word, even knowing the road would be hard. Knowing there would be bad days and not-so-bad ones. But you were determined to make it work because you loved Spencer, and he didn't deserve less from you.

All I want is to fall in deeper than I've ever been

Why won't you let me?

I can handle your heart, so help me.

But Spencer didn't open up to you the next day, nor the week that followed, or the month after. You were patient. You didn't take personally the prolonged silences, the avoidance, the eagerness he showed to go back to work.

At some point, you start to wonder what you have been doing wrong because there is definitely something wrong.

Waiting for him to confide you was the only thing you decided to do. He would come to you eventually. Instead of pushing him, you offered your solace and a safe space for him to be peaceful.

But after three months, things didn't get better; they were quite the opposite. Spencer frequently showed signs of irritability at home and started to snap at almost anything.

And that's when the arguments started. You were getting exhausted by his behavior and the null display of trust from him.

Today has been no different. After coming back from a case, Spencer barely acknowledged your presence, opting for lounging on the couch, too invested in a book to tell you he almost got hurt in the field, and you find it out from Penelope calling you to know how he was doing.

“Spencer-”

“You can leave if you want,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“That's not what I asked. I asked if you want me to leave.”

There is a lump in your throat, but it doesn't stop you from voicing your thoughts.

“And for once, be honest with me. Do you want to be alone? Do you want to sulk yourself for God knows how much time?”

There is a brief silence where you think Spencer is truly contemplating his response.

“Yes.”

He says it without looking at you, but his voice is firm enough for you to wonder if he’s lying or not. It hurts. But it hurts you more because he’s hurting and not for the pain he’s inflicting you with his words - or lack of.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

You get his attention this time. He wasn’t expecting you to ask him that.

“Why do you want to be alone?”

You can’t understand why he’s so determined to shut you out. Or maybe you do, but you’re not ready to accept it. Not when you love him more than anything in this world. Not when you are sure your love must count to something for him. Yeah, maybe you can’t ‘fix him,’ but you’re sure as hell you can help him to heal.

Spencer huffs in frustration. What can he say? The truth? It's too simple and yet too complicated to voice.

“I realized it’s better that way. There is no reason for you to stay.”

Is he turning his motives into altruistic ones? It's like he doesn't know you at all.

“There isn’t? You are not reason enough for me to stay?”

Spencer stands from his spot, running his hands through his hair.

“You don't get it? Do you?! Do you want me to throw the words on your face? Uh? I thought you were smart enough to realize by now I can’t love you anymore!”

It's the first time he has yelled that way to you in months. Years, maybe? All the last arguments you both had recently were more like ‘snappy-sassy Spencer’ and a ‘sassier you.’

He just said, ‘I can’t love you anymore,’ and not ‘I don’t love you anymore.’ You don’t miss the wording, and you’re praying right now not to be reading this wrong.

Maybe this is the crack you were waiting for to get to him. Carefully, you look at Spencer, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn't.

“Okay,” you mumble, sitting again on the couch, your feet planted on the floor and hands on your knees. Spencer raises an eyebrow, confused by your posture and response.

“Okay?”

You nod. “Yeah. Okay. You can’t love me anymore. I accept it. And I’m not happy with that, but okay. I can’t obligate you to feel in a certain way if you don’t.”

“But you should be hating me,” he refutes. “I failed you, and now I’m ending things.”

You take in his words. Spencer assumes he’s the one to hate, and even if you want to, you know you can’t.

With pursed lips and soft eyes, you gesture to the spot beside you on the couch, inviting him to sit. Spencer understands and, after a second of contemplation, slowly moves to sit there, curious about what you are thinking right now.

“Can I tell you something?” you start. “It's humanly impossible for me to hate you. And yeah, maybe I should, but I can’t. Maybe you can’t love me, and thank you for doing it at some point, by the way. But it doesn't mean I’ll stop caring about you. It doesn't mean I don't want to see you happy because, despite all the awful things you think about yourself, oh, flash news, you deserve to be happy.”

“Don’t-” he wants to refute, as always he does, but you have to make a point.

“Spence, please, let me say it.” Spencer stops and concedes at your request, even if he thinks it useless and that you shouldn’t put that effort into him.

“I know you think you disappointed people for what happened. You haven’t told me that much, but I know. And I can understand you are scared and that maybe I’m not the one you want to confide in. I respect it, really. But please, if at least a fraction of what I think matters to you, believe me, I have never doubted whatever you did in there; you did it to survive. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.”

It's a hard pill to swallow for Spencer. He never wanted to tell you what really happened when he was in jail. Granted, you are not a profiler, but you know him enough to see through him.

Here you are, next to me

So much beauty at my feet

All I wanna do is swim, but the waves keep crashin' in

No, I'm not afraid to drown

Take me out, take me down

I'm so tired of the shore

Let me in, baby

You're an ocean, beautiful and blue

I wanna swim in you

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. And I’ll leave if it's what you think I should do, but not before telling you how I see you. God, Spencer. You have no idea how great a human being you are. You always prefer to sell yourself short instead, but I know you. If the time we have known each other taught me something, it's how compassionate, understanding, and loving you are. Believe me when I tell you that to love you has been the best thing I have done in my life. And I would do anything for you, even if that means walking away from you.”

You don't know when the tears started to fall, but now you can feel them running down your cheeks and landing in your hands resting on your lap.

Spencer’s glassy eyes tell you he has heard everything you said, and you hope he believes you. At least you have tried pouring your heart into words. It isn’t easy for you to do. That’s something you have in common with Spencer. Your love language is acts of service more than words of affirmation, but you know this time, you need the words.

A tear makes his journey from Spencer’s eyes down his jaw. But he can’t say anything. He thinks if he says something, everything in him will crumble.

You wait, not so sure what, but wait. As Spencer keeps his silence, you think you have nothing more to do, so you break eye contact.

“Okay. That's what I needed to say. I guess that’s it.”

A shaky breath anticipates you getting up from the couch. You stroll to the bedroom to grab your go-bag.

Approaching the door and grabbing your keys from the bowl, you bit your lower lip because you don’t want to cry in front of him anymore.

Like a lighthouse, I've been shinin' bright

Through the dark for both of us

And I've done it outta love is not enough

But God, how I wish it was

And I don't wanna find out

How much lonely I can take before you lose me

Baby, look at me and swear you won't lose me

Determined to leave, you open the door, and before you cross the threshold, a heartbreaking sob paralyzes you in place. Then, a wail and Spencer's broken voice.

“Please, don’t leave!”

It is heartbreaking and comes to you like a prayer from the depths of his being. You stop in your tracks but refuse to look back at him.

“I know I don't deserve you, but please, I can’t - I can’t lose you.”

Wiping away his tears, Spencer gets up from the couch and quickly reaches the door. You still have the bag in one hand and the keys in the other, with your back to him.

“I love you more than you can imagine, and I was determined to let you go. I thought I had hurt you enough.”

“Did you were setting me free? From you?” you mumble, still not wanting to turn around, tears blurring your sight. Spencer sniffles.

“I thought it was the right thing to do. Why drag you to my shit once more? Fuck, you always have been there for me, and it is so unfair. How did I repay you?”

“Repay me?” You let the bag fall with a thud. This time, turning to face Spencer. “Do you think this is about repaying? Jesus, Spencer. I never had ask you that.”

“I know. I know,” he rushes to say. “But I feel like I’m not good enough. An ex-junk. An ex-convict. And a lot of baggage to carry.”

Your fingers fidget with the keys as you hear Spencer beating himself.

“Nothing of that has changed the way I see you. I’m not saying you have to be the same, nor do you have to keep still about it. I love you with all the scars you have and the ones that will come. And I want to help. You don't have to do this alone.”

“It's a lot. I don't even know where to start,” Spencer’s voice croaks, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“We can figure it out. Together. It won’t be easy, but I promise it will get better.”

Your soft eyes and hopeful words warm Spencer’s heart. He can’t conceive you are even real. He can’t fathom how you are still here in front of him after all. He can only conclude that your love is big enough to hold you two at this moment when his weakness consumes him.

Still sobbing, Spencer rushes to envelope you in a tight embrace. But unlike the hug you shared in the bullpen when he was released months ago, this time, he's the one telling you reassuring words.

“I love you. I couldn’t be more grateful for having you. I promise I’ll heal. I promise not to shut you out again. My love, my everything.”

As you cry with Spencer enveloped in his arms, your heart feels hopeful that you both will find a way to get through this. Together.

---------------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

[zyafics]

i love love love your writing<3

rq: rafe had came up to tanneyhill's balcony for some peace at his own party. though he didn’t expect reader to be there, looking utterly lost. he knows reader is new. seen you before, too, hanging out with sarah’s crowd; under a pogue’s arm whenever they see him around, telling you rafe isn't anything worth talking, or interacting with.

first off, i am so sorry it took me so long to get this done (as with a lot of my requests) but thank you so much for enjoying my writing!! 🩷 i hope i do this prompt justice (literally shaking in my boots as i post this 😭)

ANGRY GOD | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Series)

Pairing — S2!Rafe Cameron x (F)Reader

Content — fluff, angst, Rafe spiraling (S2 Canons), Enemies Tension, Rafe growing possessive of Reader.

Word Count — 3.2K.

Dedication — to @mintforadollar who listened to me rant about this plot a month ago, only for it to now be completed <3. Prompt credited to this on c.ai!

Rafe wants to be alone.

His mind is caught in a tailspin, muscles singing with ache from his latest altercation. It didn't help that the fucker managed to get some good swings in, ripples of pain spread from his jawline to his left eye. When he enters the second floor of Tannyhill, all he wants is to catch a breath of fresh air away from the party. His party.

He didn't expect to see you.

"Out." Rafe commands gruffly. You flinch at his abrupt command. "Second floor is off-limits."

He adds nothing else as he marches over to the edge of the balcony, digging his scraped palms into the smooth ridges of the handrails. He didn't want anyone here to witness the brunt of his frustration and disappointment, or how his mind swims with disoriented and incoherent thoughts. He wants to be alone.

But you won't let him.

Cautiously, you take a step forward—not in the direction of the exit, as he hoped—but towards Rafe instead. Lifting his head at the sound of your faint footsteps, agitation flushing through his expression at your proximity. "Didn't I tell you to get out?"

"You got into a fight." You mumble your observation, examining his hardened profile to discover the bruise that decorates his jawline, swelling with discoloration, the darkening under his left eye, and the split of open skin right above his brow.

He scoffs. "No shit."

"And you're bleeding."

He is? He didn't know that. All consumed by the adrenaline rushing through his system—that has yet to wind down—Rafe lifts his hand to run his fingers over the most prominent aches around his face. When he presses against something wet, he withdraws, finding a fresh coat of blood over his fingertips.

Rafe grimaces at the sight—not the blood, he's used to that—but the fact that his opponent succeeded in cutting him too.

Now, he definitely doesn't want you here. Before Rafe has the chance to kick you out the third time, you offer assistance. "I can help," you say meekly, messing with the hems of your top.

He didn't catch it over the loud thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. "What?"

"I can help," you repeat, louder this time, wincing at the projection of your own voice. You don't like the strain in your tone, the desperation seeping through. You'd do anything to avoid returning to the party. "I know how to patch up wounds. I'm training to be an EMT."

"I didn't ask for a life story." He snaps, a mechanical response to any aid. The idea of someone taking care of him is unheard of; unfamiliar and uncomfortable. He doesn't know how to react other than complete and utter rejection. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

Rafe assumes his harsh words would drive you away. The bite behind each syllable has been enough to scare off everyone else but you remain firm in your position. If anything, your expression softens, eyes washing over his rigid posture with a sympathetic look. He hates it.

"I know," you start slowly, eyes cascading down his face, carefully monitoring his reaction. "But... wouldn't it be nice if you didn't have to?"

His expression breaks.

Your kindness strikes directly to his chest and his heart clutches at the way you address him. With humanity. Even when he's been nothing but a complete asshole to you, demanding your departure, you respond with a sense of warmth. Rafe clenches down his jaw.

When he doesn't answer quickly enough, a sign of his contemplation, you add. "Please."

Reluctantly, Rafe gives in. "Fine."

Rafe moves from the balcony deck to reenter Tannyhill, not bothering to check if you're following behind. He heads straight to the ensuite connected to his bedroom, checking under the sink for his first aid kit, before throwing the box over the counter.

That's when he catches a glimpse of himself through the mirror, the ugly bruising that lines his face, the dried blood that stains his temple. His jaw tightens at the sight.

You enter shortly after, seeing him with his back to the mirror, his spine pressed against the rim of the porcelain sink. Your eyes do a quick sweep of your surroundings, before landing on Rafe and his rigid form, arms crossed over his chest, and a cold look on his face. He just wants to get this over with.

You glance outside, to his room, with its openness, before meeting his gaze. "Can we go to your bed?"

His answer is immediate. "No."

You frown but ask nothing more. Rafe's trying to make this difficult for you, refusing to cooperate because it's easier than submitting to your grace. Easier than admitting he'd like the help. You work around that.

Grabbing the antiseptics from the kit, you proceed to clean his wounds, softly massaging his flesh in the process. For a moment, it feels too good and Rafe fights the urge to lean into your hand before a sharp pain rips through him from the open cut and he hisses.

You immediately pull back, mumbling a quick apology.

His eyes squeeze shut, it takes a moment for the throb to cool down, and once it does, Rafe reconnects his gaze with yours to find the remorseful look behind your stare, the softening of your features met with utmost concern. You don't make another move to try again.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." He bites out, wanting to rid you of that look. He's not weak. Stop looking at him as if he is. Despite the reassurance, you have yet to continue. "You're not going to be a good doctor if you shy away every time your patient gets hurt."

"I feel bad." You admit, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Why? You didn't do this."

He's the one who got into the fight. The one who swung first. While he may have won in the end, having knocked out the guy in the middle of the yard, it doesn't neglect the damage done to him in the process. But, at the end of the day, it's his fault.

You don't see it that way. "Because you're hurting."

You're too soft. That's what Rafe determines. Every little moment, little sprouts of empathy, every inch of sensitivity, is going to hurt you in the end. It won't save anything.

"I don't need your pity," Rafe snaps, giving you the first taste of reality under his razor-sharp tongue. He could be considerate, and understanding, but he isn't. That's how he learned.

"It's not—" You sigh. You don't want to argue and relent against his jabs. Without further commentary, you continue forward with your duties: aiding in his treatment and biting through the humane urge to sympathize with his pain.

Rafe takes the silence to observe you while you work. He knows you grew quiet because of his rough manners, and he won't lie to himself and say he enjoys it. He doesn't. But it adds to the list of everything else he has done wrong in his life; his long string of failures that his father can't wait to remind him of.

In the quietness, Rafe recognizes something about you. It takes a moment, after all the aches and throbs, but the recognition dawns on him that you're new. You hang out with his sister, Sarah, and the rest of the filthy group of no-good Pogues on the other side of the island. There have even been occasions when he saw you under JJ's arm, slinging around red solo cups and a grim soak of southside.

"Where's your friends?" Rafe asks, surprising you with the roughness behind his voice.

You lift your gaze to his. "Hmm?"

"The Pogues. Don't you hang out with them?"

You swallow hard, feeling like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You hoped your newcomer status would be enough to shield yourself from Rafe's wraith, especially his hatred towards your selected group. "Why?"

Rafe immediately picks up on the shift in your demeanor, the rigidness in your shoulders that tells him exactly what he needs to know. "You've heard about me, haven't you?"

You hesitate to answer. Rafe presses on. "What'd they say?"

Your friends have told you many warnings about the notorious Rafe Cameron. It all comes down to one conclusion: he's dangerous. He's irrational, self-centered, and narcissistic. He isn't worth talking to because all he cares about is himself.

However, you like to find out for yourself.

Rafe leans forward, lowering himself to meet your height and his face is right in front of yours. An arrogant smirk rises to his lips, a challenge for you to answer. "Come on, princess, don't tell you came up here without doing a bit of research beforehand."

You recognize this as a facade, a way for him to hide his true feelings because it's easier to disturb others. To mess with people and not reflect on your own. You place a hand against the solid of his chest and gently push him back, forcing him to reinstate the safe distance established before. You continue back to your line of work.

Your little push surprises Rafe. It also intrigues him too.

"They said you weren't worth talking to," you say softly, avoiding eye contact as he follows your every move. "That you're dangerous."

He scoffs at the reveal, but it pinches his heart that his own sister would agree. He values her opinion more than he'd like to admit. Drawing out a noncommital shrug, pretending not to care, he declares. "They're right."

You hum. "Maybe."

He looks directly at you with a raised brow. "Maybe?"

Your eyes finally connect with his, "I'm still figuring that out." You pull back, setting the supplies back into his aid box. "Done."

You're about to take a step back when Rafe grabs your wrist, holding you in place. Your breath shortens, and you peer down at the place of your contact before raising your gaze to his.

"What do you mean by that?" He demands, his expression hardens but his eyes are pleading. That juxtaposition, between who he is and what he wants, is the exact thing you're trying to uncover.

You aren't afraid of him. Not like the others.

"I don't know," you answer truthfully, sweeping over his face, reading the conflict his features can't seem to contain. Rafe, you're slowly unraveling, is someone who puts his heart on his sleeves. He just hasn't had anyone who cares enough to look for it. "I just don't know if I truly believe that."

"Why not? The rest of the island does."

It's almost a spiral. An edge closer to it. You think it's because Rafe finally has someone who looks past his mask, his deception that the rest of the island gladly takes. They're afraid of him; he engineered that reputation by hand. But you've met your fair share of burnt souls to know they're all worth saving.

You answer him.

"Your eyes." You explain gently. "They say it's the windows to someone's soul."

"And?"

"And, Rafe Cameron, you're someone who isn't as heartless as you'd like the rest of the world to believe."

His grip loosens from your words and you take the opportunity to slip out of his grasp and settle your arms by your side. Rafe watches as you offer him a soft smile, one that reaches your eyes, and you're about to return to the balcony deck for some peace when he follows you into his bedroom.

"That's not fair." He denounces, halting your exit.

You turn around to face him. "What is?"

"You can't come in here and make those assumptions. You don't know shit about my life."

Rafe doesn't like to be read so clearly; to know that whatever he's trying to front isn't deluding you. For some reason, he needs to convince you that every rumor and gossip is true. That he is bad. The idea of it is embedded so deeply into the crevices of his self-worth, that he's having a hard time believing anything else.

Rafe expects your reaction to meet his fury, but the slope of your brows furrow together calmly. A delicate practice over years of training. "I never said I did."

"You're acting like you do."

You frown. "Now you're making assumptions about me," you refute, pointing out his hypocrisy, and a tinge of sharpness slips through. "You asked and I answered. You can't be mad because you don't like them."

"Then why?" He snaps, irritation spewing with his venom. "Who the fuck are you to make that judgment?"

"I thought you didn't want to hear my life story."

He huffs. Rafe finds himself at a crossroads. While you're standing there, with your collected composure, he feels like he's unraveling by the seams. There's something about you. The way you read through him like glass. He doesn't know if he likes it or not. If he needs it or not.

"Bitch," he mutters under his breath at your lack of compliance, and your breath hitches at the term, a flash of anger goes through you like a surge. He recognized that look; it was something he was all too familiar with.

You turn around, about to sprint for the exit once again when Rafe calls out. "Wait."

You don't want to turn around this time. Rafe had managed to make you break through your own facade, your own composure that you spent years trying to cultivate. Something about being in the same room as the eldest Cameron makes you regress into your formative years.

"Turn around."

Your jaw is slighted, but you try to hold it together. You loosen your features before you turn on your heel. You still don't think Rafe is the person he's trying to present to the world, and you doubt that he truly carries that much cruelty in one body, but that doesn't mean you have to be in the same room as him.

But something made you stay.

Rafe crosses the large space, standing just in front of you. His breath is hot against yours, his eyes sharp. You tilt your head, meeting his stare, but to contrast his intensity, your gaze is soft yet firm, your eyes unwavering. Just because you are kinder than he is doesn't mean you are weak.

"You know what it's like, don't you?" He murmurs gruffly, his voice straining at the exposure. This questioning also carries the weight of admission underneath; to bridge a kinship. "Or are you a liar?"

You're not. But no one's ever asked the questions Rafe is asking either. Not your friends back home or the new ones with the Pogues. They treasure your friendship but they don't understand your depth.

"No."

"No, what?"

"I'm not a liar," you bite out. Rafe's mouth curls into a satisfactory smile, and he gets a glimpse of your real character. The true you underneath all that dignity. It's like his own dirty secret. "I know."

You saw through Rafe because you understood him. You shared the same sentiments. You groomed the same callousness. Every act he performs, you went through first. You can't point at his reflection without looking at the mirror yourself.

But you're a bit different. You learn to control it. You discovered that all that anger was something else. Hurt, pain, injustice. You take it all and put it in a box, caged behind thick chains and hard locks. Never to be touched again. Rafe takes it out to the open, free to play. You may come from the same origin but you take two different routes.

However, Rafe sees you much clearer now. To know you can understand him, see through his perspective, and filter out his incoherent thoughts. That's something he'd never experienced before in his life.

"The voices, anger, and impulses?" His voice shrinks, eyes searching yours. You hesitate before nodding once. "You get that too?"

It comes out when you're most hurt. "I do."

He feels like can breathe for once, to not feel completely isolated from the rest of the world. Rafe always feels off, like something is wrong with him. Nothing can be explained; nothing is allowed to be explored. Even when he sought therapy, his father denied his request. He thought he‘d be forever alone in all this.

He steps forward, closing in the distance until there's only an inch of space separating you. But even that feels too big. Oxygen stuck in your throat, Rafe connects his gaze with yours to whisper. "You're like me, aren't you?"

You swallow hard. You didn't realize understanding someone could be a reflection of your own damning soul. You don't know if it's a good thing. "Yes."

His pupils are dilated and nearly pitch-black. His breathing shortens, and his gaze pools with desire. You feel it too. Your heart accelerates beneath your ribcage, your stomach knotting with want. When Rafe leans forward, about to capture your lips on his, you ready yourself to let it all in.

But you're a bit different.

You turn your head away at the last second, his contact coming to your cheek.

"I'm..." You exhale, squeezing your eyes shut. "I'm with JJ."

The world stills on its axis, and you feel the gravity of it beneath your feet. You slowly peel your eyes open, only to find Rafe having pulled back, his hand, midway through the air to hold your chin, closes into a tight fist.

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes swimming with regret.

The look on his face is heartbreaking because you know him in parallel, you know what he's feeling. You take a step back, for your sanity or his, it’s unclear. All you know is the distance was safe. Until it wasn't.

"I should go." You whisper.

Rafe says nothing as you pad your way across his room, slipping out of the door. He remains motionless in the same spot, his jaw set, his fists clenched by his side. The adrenaline pulses return through his veins.

Fuck.

It takes a minute to gather himself. Hearing nothing but the throbbing bass beneath him, pulsing through the floor. His heart is wretched, his stomach full of nausea.

Rafe returns to the balcony to pull away from his room, the place where you had been, and he steps closer to the ledge. Everything in his mind is too quiet; sterile and white-screeching. He doesn't know how to fathom this change.

His blue eyes search across the lawn and he easily picks you out of the crowd. He knows you well now. Those brief, fleeting moments attached to his soul are permanent memories.

You rejoined the party with Sarah and the rest of the Pogues, while JJ saunters over and throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close and whispering something in your ear. You smile and laugh, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes.

When you look up, you find Rafe already watching. His eyes are set on yours, unmoving, and the intimacy of his gaze strikes something deep. You had to turn away to preserve yourself.

Rafe slowly comes to his understanding on his own. He never had someone who understood him, much less in such a short time. You unravel him behind gentle stares and quiet observations. You knew him because you knew yourself, and he doesn't want to lose that. He doesn't want to lose you. He can’t. 

So, he decided.

You weren't his.

But he's taking you anyways.

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Navigation — Part 01 | Part 02

[crookedteethed]

18+ -mdni

ᥫ᭡. he'll come back, rafe always does.

warnings smut, infidelity, anal, angst, a-to-v (don't do this, unless you want a vag infection)

other woman masterlist | main masterlist(s) | taglist

"Does your wife ever let you fuck her in the ass?" you'd asked Rafe. 

"Shut up." Rafe had told you, stern face, steady body, and his hand slowly sticking his cock into your ass.

"Fuckkk." You melted as you felt his thick tip entering inside of you; inch by inch, you felt Rafe fill you up to the core. 

And when Rafe finally bottomed out inside you--his pelvis touching your asscheeks, he stayed in that position for a peculiarly long time before slowly dragging himself out of you, then pile-driving himself back into your ass--this time with much more force. 

Your ass hadn't even fully adjusted to his length before Rafe relentlessly pumped himself in you.

All you could do was cling onto the pillow that hosted you up, and drool, while Rafe wrecked you.

Fuck, did you miss this: after a long day of work, opening your phone and seeing a "can I see you?" text from Rafe.

You and Rafe hadn't been seeing each other as much ever since he wanted to "make things right with his family." Which meant he had to stop seeing you.

You hated anal, and you hated being Rafe's second pick, but if that's what all it took to be with him, then so be it.

"You were the first guy I let fuck me in my ass." you told Rafe once you adjusted to his length, the feeling starting to feel bittersweet.

Rafe said nothing, his eyes glued to your heart-shaped butt, his cock rutting into you on a mission.

"Does that mean nothing to you?" You asked him. "You were the first guy I'd done anal with, and what do I get? 'my wife, my wife, my wife.' You mocked, laughing.

Suddenly, you heard a low growl from Rafe, and then he stopped fucking you.

"Fuck this, Y/n." he said, pulling himself out of you. "This was a bad idea--"

"No." you pleaded. "Please don't stop fucking me." you looked at Rafe with puppy dog eyes--which never failed to fail with Rafe.

Rafe hesitated, his eyes conflicted as he looked at you. For a moment, you thought he might leave, but then he growled and roughly flipped you onto your back, and lined himself with your cunt.

"You want me to fuck you? Fine. But don't expect this to mean anything," he snarled, thrusting back into you forcefully.

You gasped at the sudden fullness, wrapping your legs around his waist. "I don't care what it means," you lied, clinging to him desperately. "Just don't stop."

Rafe set a punishing pace, his hips snapping against yours. You could see the struggle in his eyes - desire warring with guilt. But his body betrayed him, chasing pleasure relentlessly.

"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned. "Why do you do this to me?"

You didn't answer, too lost in the feeling of Rafe's deep penetration in your tight hole--gushing from Rafe's every thrust.

Rafe's fingers dug into your hips, surely leaving bruises. You arched your back, taking him even deeper. A strangled moan escaped your lips.

"That's it," Rafe panted. "Take all of me."

His thrusts grew erratic, his control slipping. You could feel him throbbing inside you, so close to the edge.

"I can't… I shouldn't…" Rafe's words were strained--which you didn't think was meant for your ears to hear. 

You clenched around him deliberately, drawing a sharp gasp from his lips. His resolve crumbled.

"Y/n!" Rafe cried out as he came undone, spilling himself inside you.

You followed moments later, waves of pleasure washing over you. As you both came down from your high, reality began to set in. Rafe pulled away, unable to meet your eyes.

"This can't happen again, y/n, I'm serious." Rafe said, quickly putting on his dress shirt and slacks.

You sat up slowly, pulling the sheet around yourself. "Rafe, wait," you pleaded softly. "We need to talk about this--you can't keep getting my hopes up."

He paused, his back to you as he buttoned his shirt with trembling fingers. "There's nothing to talk about. This was a mistake - one we can't repeat."

"And yet, you still do." you whispered.

Your soft, mournful words hung in the air like a heavy fog, lingering long after Rafe had left your apartment and was on his way home to see his beloved wife. The sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway.

a/n: I have a funny story about this fic. I wrote it back in August, and it's been sitting in my drafts until now. Haha, isn't that funny? 😐

[skzthelomlhehe]

Telling Changbin you want a baby~

And guess who's back agaaaaaiiiinnnnn!! Yup that's meeeeeee hahahahaha I just got heartbroken 😃 so I write smut!!! Why cry over men when I can dream about skz amirite? So hiya! Back to this lmaooo

Author from future: I'm still heartbroken while I finished this. And I'm still day dreaming about getting headlocked by changbin. (Live, laugh, love changbin 💪)

Warning: mentions of pregnancy, p in v, unprotective sex, Oral (f receiving), mentions of bruising {apologies if I missed anything.}

Changbin x F!reader // established relationships // MDNI

Masterlist Total masterlist Tag Reqs:@bluesungology @diabolicalkitkat @capricorn-girl0112 @daysofskz-ateez @neginktn

This is gonna be such a drabble omg

Smut under cut // Minors Do Not Interact

Changbin has been out for a few weeks now. Back to back business trips, work projects, a few side hustles. He wanted nothing more than to see the love of his life after all this hassle. He came back home, his phone brightened up. A picture of you and him proudly shining on his lock screen. The time was 11:07 pm.

He gently unlocked the door wanting to surprise you. Upon reaching further into the house, his face melted in an adoring smile. His heart swelling at the sight of you laying on the couch sleeping peacefully. Your chest heaving up and down in slow rhythms.

He placed his bag down as slowly as he could. His face practically the pleading emoji. He crouched down, tugging a few strands of your hair behind your ear before placing a soft peck on your forehead.

"Mm..." You groaned, awakening from your slumber. Your eyes fell on the beautiful man beside you and your face lit up immediately. "Hey binnie..." you giggled, seeing his peculiar expression. "Hello, bun. Did I wake you up?" He whispered. You shook your head, still smiling like a child. "Not at all! I do hope our baby didn't wake u-" you looked down to your belly, panic setting in.

"wa-wait! Where's my baby??" You jolted up, changbin looking at you with utter confusion. You held on to changbin, panic and desperation painting all your face. "B-binnie where.... Where's our baby???" You cried out. Tears started streaming down your face.

Changbin held on to your face, cupping your cheeks gently. "Babe! Calm down!" Concerned, he pulled you in to a tight hug, "calm down, love. What baby are you even talking about?" Having being pulled into that embrace, you finally calmed down. Reality settling in. It was all just a dream.

You let go, looking into his eyes still sniffling, "I... I had a dream where... We... We had a baby... So I was scared I lost my little one... Sorry if I scared you, binnie..." You looked down. Cheeks flushed red. You were so embarrassed.

Don't know how you expected him to react, but what you didn't expect was that Changbin would be cackling at your actions. He pulled you in to a hug again, placing soft kisses all over your face. "Honeeyyy~ you're so adorable!!" He squealed. You buried your face in his firm chest, groaning, "no I'm not." You mumbled. You peeked up from his chest, your eyes sparkling, "Can... Can you make a baby with me?" your lips puckered up in a pout, eyes pleading like a child asking for candy. Changbin chuckled, gently kissing your lips.

"If my lovely wife wants it, who am I to say no?" He picked you up, making you wrap your legs around him as he carried you to your bedroom. (Again, I have a strange obsession with carrying to the bed and I will NEVER stop writing about it.) He let you down softly, placing gentle loving kisses on your neck. You tilted your head to let him get more skin to kiss. He looked up at you, taking your hands in his and kissing the knuckles of your hand. "You're sure about this, right?" He asked, his eyes sparkling with a loving gaze.

You lifted your head to kiss his forehead, a pretty smile curling your lips, "of course, love. It's your child that'll be inside me... That's such a wonderful thing!" You giggled. He gave you another soft peck on your lips before getting up and throwing his shirt off.

You shuddered at the view, your left hand running down his well built torso. "Love the view, don't you?" He placed his hand on yours. "I'd be crazy not to... There's no way I'll never worship you." "Same goes for me." He bent down, kissing your collar bone, sliding his hand under your velvety pajama shirt.

you whimpered under his touch, your fingers threading in his hair as he unbuttoned your shirt, not leaving a single inch of your skin unkissed. Your skin burned wherever his lips met, heart thumped. It suddenly felt like this was your first time having sex even though you've had it countless times.

The very thought of being able to carry his baby made you even more eager. You flinched as you felt him kiss your lower abdome while pulling your pants down. "B-binniiee..." You whined. "Yes, honey?" His voice was deep and heavy, his lips busy kissing your thighs. Your core was now for show to him.

You mewled at him licking your clit, your desperate pussy throbbing for more. He chuckled, his voice rolling in that perfect wave. You could feel your ears burning. (Me rn) He gave you a couple more licks, teasing you knowing damn well how on edge you get because of it. "Binnie..!" You whined again, a bit louder this time. "Hehe sorry babyyy~" he laughed.

He let himself delve deep into your cunt. Licking, biting and absolutely devouring you. You let out a breathy moan as he covered the entirety of your folds with his mouth. It was warm already but now you felt like it was gonna melt.

He didn't even need to use his fingers. All he needed was his mouth. Penetrating your hole with his tongue and sucking you up. You could tell he was pussy drunk by the sloppy licks and bites. You pushed his head in knowing how much he likes it when you do that. He let out a pretty highpitched whine. (sorta like the last clip here lol just watch the video, get a good laugh, come back and get horny again lmao) it was a sign he liked it.

You found your climax nearing. You tried closing your legs around him only to be forced open by those sexy arms (i shit you not I started day dreaming) you couldn't hold it in. The stimulation was too much. He was way too good.

Before you knew it, you let loose all over him. Your body stiffening as you came and soon relaxed into a putty. Your chest heaved up and down as you struggled to catch your breath.

He got up, your essence dripping down his chin. Wiping himself clean, he used the remaining wetness as a lubricant. Slipping down his pants, his cock sprung out. He rubbed his length as he leaned down to kiss you. Tasting yourself on your tongue was something you considered would be disgusting before but after you got a taste of changbin? You would drink poison from this man's hands. He slowly rubbed the tip of his member on your entrace, looking at you with curious eyes one last time.

You nodded softly before pulling him into a kiss again. That was the approval he needed. Without another second wasted, he dived in. The stretch of your hole delicious. You moaned out, your nails digging into his back making him groan. "So tight... So pretty... Just for me..." He whispered in your ear, peppering you with soft kisses as he moved.

You wrapped your legs around him, eyes shut, back arched, head thrown back from the sensation. He bit your collarbone, then your breast, down to your tummy, leaving beautiful bite marks and hickeys.

He looked up at you, awe and love overflowing from his gaze. "You're so beautiful, bunny." He mumbled, making you blush harder. "St-stop.." you protested. Barely having the strength to form words further than that.

He chuckled at the sight, loving every moan, every touch, every protest and struggle. And he knew you loved it too. He got up, holding your hips and pulling you close, making you squeak. You could've sworn the way he held you would bruise you. And yet, amidst all that, there was tenderness. There was love. You didn't care if you had marks or bruises. You knew, in the end of the day, he loved you. And he would never hurt you.

You felt yourself coming close again. And the way changbin had his eyes shut and the way he groaned, it was clear he was too. Your hands that were clenching on the sheets now made their way to your lover. "B-binnie... M'gonna... Gonna cum..." You mustered up the strength to warn him.

"just a little longer, bunny. Im close too..." He groaned. A few more thrusts in, he was close. So very close. And so were you. "Go ahead, bun. Cum with me. Let's let loose together, yeah?" He huffed, leaning down again, pulling you into an embrace as both of you came undone. He painted your walls white while you held onto him tightly.

He fell limp on you, his weight ever so comforting. Both of you panting from the stimulation. He flopped down on the bed next to you. His member still inside making sure to seal his cum inside you.

You melted in his comfortable arms as he spooned you, snuggling closer to him. His arms were wrapped around your belly. You rubbed the back of his hand, a soft smile curving your lips. "Do you think I'll be a good mother?" You asked softly. "The best mom to ever exist." He nuzzled into your neck. "I hope I can be as good of a mom as yours." You chuckled. "And I'll make sure our little one will love you just as much as I love my mom if not more."

Both of you shared a laugh before finding solace in each other's embrace. Soon drifting off to sleep before you could realise.

{Fin}

Im writing this during my hiatus cuz I've been stressed out and needed some comforting smut Lolol hope you guys liked it! (Back to hiatus I go!)

Note: to get tagged, interact with this post.

[kaleldobrev]

Adventures in Babysitting

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader; Past William Butcher x F. Supe!Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, William Butcher, Soldier Boy/Ben & Hughie Campbell

Summary: The last thing you wanted was to babysit Soldier Boy — but here you are.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Cursing (23x), Offensive/Derogatory Language, Smut (P in V, Fingering, Unprotected Sex), Supe Shaming & Implied Drug Use

Authors Note: Even though I’m used to writing smut, I’m a little rusty, so apologies if this is not up to snuff with the other times I have written smut | I’ve been on such a Ben kick lately, hope y’all don’t mind! | MDNI — 18+ ONLY PLEASE | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

"Why am I the one that has to fucking babysit him?" You whispered yelled at Butcher, not trying to be remotely quiet in the process.

Butcher looked at you, and let out a small chuckle. "Cause Princess, you're the only one of us that, that Radioactive Cunt actually listens to. 'Sides, you're one of his kind."

You huffed. Like I had a fucking choice in the matter, you thought. "But you and Hughie are already going to be taking Temp V to go on your little suicide mission," you said, now raising your arms out of pure frustration. Your reaction and comment lead Butcher to just simply laugh.

"We ain't wastin' Temp V looking after him when you already got some in ya," he winked, giving your shoulder a little bump. "Sides, don't think your power is gonna be real useful for this."

It was now your turn to raise a brow and chuckle. "You don't think that my power of life draining people to the point of death isn't useful in this situation?"

"When I have laser eyes and Hughie can teleport? No. Our powers aren't hands on unlike yours," Butcher said.

"Now your power shaming me?" You scoffed, crossing your arms. "That's low Butch, especially after all the fucking times I've saved your British ass."

"Be mad at me all you want Princess, you're staying here," Butcher said, as he picked up his duffel bag. "I'll make it up to ya," he winked, and all you did was give him a disgusted look. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said, his tone a little bit more cheerful than it had been previously.

As Butcher walked out the door, you huffed. "Un-fucking-believable," you mumbled. You walked over to the couch and sat down, still keeping your arms folded as you slumped down and stared at the floor, slightly grinding your teeth.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ben asked, strolling into the room from the bathroom.

You glared at him, still with the look of death. "You. You're my fucking problem," your words coming off a lot harsher than you had intended them to sound. But you were pissed, and maybe a little bit jealous. Before Hughie came along, it was always the Y/N and Butcher Show, but now, it was the Hughie and Butcher Show. You felt slightly betrayed and felt like you had lost your best friend.

Ben looked at you with a confused look, his eye brows furrowed. "What the fuck did I do? I was in the fucking bathroom."

"You exist, that's why," you huffed, still with your arms crossed, barely looking at him as you answered.

"What's up with this fucking hot and cold shit uh? When I first met you, you were ready to hop on my cock, no questions asked, and now you wish I didn't exist?" Ben's reaction was one that you weren't expecting from him. You were expecting him to have some kind of sassy remark like 'Fuck you,' or 'Same here,' but not this time. This time, he almost seemed genuinely hurt that you told him that, even if you didn't really mean it.

In reality, you genuinely did like Ben; and really didn't have an actual problem with him. The only problem that you did have with him, was that he was too similar to you, and that honestly scared you sometimes.

"I'm just pissed okay?" You answered, your tone a little bit calmer now. You uncrossed your arms and let out a giant sigh.

Ben walked over to you, and sat next to you. "Do you...I can't believe I'm asking but...Do you want to...talk...about...it?" His words sounding almost as if he actually cared about what you had to say.

"No," your voice short. "I rather do something else," you continued. You finally looked him in the eyes now, and he looked at you with the same kind of confused look he had looked at you previously with.

"Yeah?" He asked, as you placed your hand on his thigh. He looked down at your hand, and then looked back up at you. "Don't start something you won't finish Sweetheart," he asked.

You didn't say anything but kept eye contact with him as you got up from the couch. "Where you goin' Sweetheart?" He asked, watching your every movement. But you remained silent; the only reaction you had was your facial expression. The death glare you had previously, was now replaced with that of slight lust.

As you stared at him, your fingers went on either side of your hips and went in the inside of your shorts. You started to slowly shimmy them down, maintaining eye contact with him as you did so. "Fucking tease," he mumbled. His comment caused you to smirk.

Once your shorts and underwear were completely off, they fell into a puddle at your feet, and you stepped out of them. You walked back to Ben and sat on his lap; your knees on either side of his legs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Without hesitation, his hands found your back and went inside of your shirt where they stopped mid-back. "No bra?" He smirked.

"I think they're rather inconvenient don't you think?" You asked in a whisper.

"I think so," he agreed. "You know what else is?"

"What?" You asked.

"This." In one swift movement, he lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it into the floor half-way across the room, leaving you completely naked on top of you — a sight that he's been dreaming about since the second he laid his eyes on you.

Once your shirt was off, you cupped his cheeks and pulled him in close to you, crashing your lips against his. You didn't mean to be so gentle with him, as you knew he could handle rough, but there was just something about him, about this situation that had wanted you to take things weirdly slow with him, instead of the usual rushed sex you were so used to having with Butcher.

Your body rocked against him, and his hands were squeezing your sides to the point that you could feel a slight amount of pain — the good kind of pain, and you let out a tiny moan. His lips moved to your neck, and you shut your eyes, loving the way his lips and tongue felt against your skin.

He nipped every so often on your skin, intending to leave bruises; but it would be a little hard to, given that you were also a Supe, but he was going to try nonetheless.

"Ben," you moaned, when he finally reached the space in-between your breasts. You felt him smirk against your skin. As if it were second nature, your hands found the back of his head, and you started almost massaging his scalp, twisting his hair between your fingers.

His hands moved from behind your back, and you missed the feeling of that warmness against you. But you were more than happy with where they were currently going. Without looking down, and keeping his mouth on yours, a few of his fingertips brushed up against your clit, and your breath hitched. He was barely touching you, and yet, you felt yourself starting to form into a puddle.

Ben couldn't help but widen his smirk as he touched you. He loved how wet you were for him, and he had barely touched you. "You like Sweetheart?" He asked against your lips, as he slowly started to slip one of his fingers slowly inside of you. It was his turn to tease you now.

Your breath hitched again, and he knew he had you. He slipped another finger inside of you, and he pumped his two fingers slowly in and out of you, knowing that this felt like torture for you. It might of felt like torture for you, but he wanted to enjoy this, because he didn't know if he would ever have this chance again.

You were hot and cold with him. One minute you were flirting with him, and the next you were calling him an asshole. But in either scenario, he couldn't help but imagine what you sounded like moaning his name, or how you would look as he fucked you.

"So fucking wet for me," he mumbled against your jaw. His fingers not picking up the pace in the slightest. You loved and hated what he was doing.

"Only for you," you whispered; your voice sounding blissful. "Ben...please..." you begged.

"Please what?" He asked, nipping at your neck.

"Make me come," you said, still in that same blissful tone.

"Mm, with pleasure," he replied. Without a second thought, his two fingers started to pump in and out of you a bit faster than they had been previously. As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, you rocked against them, trying to add more pressure and trying to get that quick release that you had been longing for.

Within seconds, you found yourself coming against his fingers. Letting out a moan, it became muffled as his lips found yours again. You moaned into his mouth; and you could his cock started to getting harder, which caused you to start smirking against his lips now.

Once you rid out your orgasm, he removed his fingers from you, and stuck them into his mouth; smirking as he did so. "I'll never get tired of that," he said.

You were on your back now, your left leg over Ben's shoulder, and the tip of his cock lining up to your entrance. If you were being honest with yourself, you were slightly nervous, but you were also excited about the feeling. "You ready for me Sweetheart?" he grinned, and you nodded.

Without anymore hesitation, he started to press the tip of his cock inside of you. You were slightly surprised at how gentle and slow he was being, as it was something that you weren't expecting from someone like him.

The farther he pressed his cock inside of you, the fuller you started to feel; a feeling that you couldn't help but moan to. "Fuck," you breathed out.

"I've heard a lot of women moaning in my life, but yours...fuck, it's like music to my ears," he smirked. "The sweetest I've ever heard." His weird compliment oddly made you feel good.

Once he was fully inside of you, the look on his face was that of pure delight, and you couldn't help but slightly chuckle. "Is it everything you hoped for?" You slightly joked.

"Better," he grinned.

He started out slow and gentle like he had been, almost as if he was cherishing the feeling. There was a part of you that was enjoying it, as you weren't used to a slow and gentle kind of sex; but the other part of you wanted him to speed up, as you knew the both of you would be able to handle the slight roughness.

The sounds of soft moans and grunts filled the room, but every so often they were muffled when you or Ben kissed the other. "You have no fucking clue how long I've wanted to fuck you," he whispered against your lips.

"I think I have an idea," you whispered back. Probably just as long, or longer than I have, you wanted to say.

"You feel so fucking good Sweetheart," he whispered again. He started kissing down your jaw again, and stopped at your neck, nipping at the skin once more. Still no marks, he thought. Disappointing.

As he continued to move in and out of you, you started to feel the slight pressure building and building, and you knew you were close. You were excited for the release, but didn't want the closeness that you were currently feeling with Ben to end. "I'm so close," you said, your words slightly breathy sounding.

"Already?" He grinned. Good, he thought. With a few more quick pumps, you found yourself coming around his cock; pure bliss and pleasure leaving your body. You moaned loudly as you came, and you didn't have to open your eyes to look at Ben to know how much he was enjoying seeing you like this.

As you came down from your high, the short breather that you had was simply that — short, as Ben started coming inside of you, which only reignited your high.

Ben pulled himself out of you, and you removed your slightly limp leg from his shoulder. “Come here,” he said, and you furrowed your brow in confused. “I said come here,” he repeated, with outstretched arms.

Before you could move, he rolled his eyes and brought you to himself, not liking the slowness that you were currently doing. When he pulled you close to him, he brought you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you; your head tucked underneath his chin. “Would have never pegged you as a cuddler,” you teased.

“I spent almost forty fucking years without skin to skin contact, humor me,” he said.

He was touch starved, you thought, and you swore that your heart broke just a little bit.

Half A Day Later…

You and Ben were on the couch together, your legs in his lap while his hands were on your bare thighs; his fingertips mindlessly tracing circles on them. There was an almost empty bottle of Jack between you that you had been sharing, along with a joint. The scene looked both romantic and casual — it felt nice.

"You know, I never messed up any of my lines in this movie," Ben noted, pointing at the screen with the bottle of Jack. "Unlike fucking Gunpowder," he mumbled, sounding slightly annoyed.

"He was like what fourteen and it was his first movie? Is that supposed to impress me?" You asked, raising a brow.

"Well ye—" but his sentence was cut off when the motel door abruptly swung open.

"Evening Cunts," Butcher said, his face and clothes splattered in blood.

"How'd the mission go? I see neither one of you are dead," you said, once Hughie entered the room, he too was covered in blood.

"We won," Butcher grinned, tossing his duffel bag onto the floor which sounded a lot heavier than it had been previously when he left much earlier in the day.

"How'd it go here?" Hughie asked. "I'm sorry we didn't bring you," his statement sounding genuine.

"No worries," you replied, trying your best to keep the slight jealousy that you had from showing. "It went fine here."

"I'd say more than fine," Butcher said, his tone slightly teasing and a little jealous sounding in nature as he pointed at your neck.

Your eye brows furrowed, and you lifted up your phone, turning the camera toward you. "Son of a Bitch," you mumbled, as you saw a few purpleish bruises on your neck. Hickeys, great, you thought.

Ben turned toward you now, turning your head to face him so he could admire his handiwork that he worked so hard on. "Well look at that," he grinned, slightly impressed with himself. "Ever make those kind of marks on her?" He asked, smirking in Butcher's direction.

Tag List: @savagemickey03 | @deanbrainrotwritings | @rachiem4-blog | @syrma-sensei | @justletmereadfanfic | @deans-daydream | @midorimachisenpaii | @anamiad00msday | @k-slla | @mrlonelycat | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @ladysparkles78 | @jackles010378 | @zepskies | @roseblue373 | @mrsjenniferwinchester | @globetrotter28 | @missscarlettangel | @foxyjwls007 | @nancymcl | @jacklesbrainworms | @beansproutmafia | @uncle-eggy | @zombie-freak | @queenie32 | @grx-deanslovr | @livingordeadwhoknows | @ficmesideways | @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden

[itsvenera]

vi x readers first time? <3 reader is the inexperienced virgin

author's note: I don't have a lot of experience writing smut, so I was kind of nervous about this one, so I really hope you enjoy! Also, I wrote this as the reader's first time being intimate with a girl, but she is not a virgin (as I don't really know what it is like to lose your virginity to a female, so I didn't want to write nonsense). Anyway, thank you for requesting! <3

warnings: 18+ content, MINORS DNI (I will block you <3); fem x fem; fingering; mirror sex (kind of?);

"God, I can kiss you all day!", Vi muttered against your mouth, before pushing her tongue between your parted lips. One of her hands held both of your wrists tightly above your head, while the other one was gently gripping your chin, holding your face in place.

When you invited the pink-haired girl to join you for dinner with the Firelights, you didn't expect to end up pinned on the bed under her muscular form. Of course, you were not a stranger to her kisses - in fact, you two shared your very first kiss together years ago, when you were both shy and awkward teenagers.

But a long time has passed since then and the tension between you was... different. When you saw her a few days ago for the first time in eight years, you couldn't help but stare - she has changed. A lot. She still had a lean and fit physique, but now she was also taller and curvier. Different tattoos covered her face, neck, and arms, while her clothes clung perfectly to her big chest and round ass.

Much to your embarrassment, you were not as discreet as you hoped to be, and after meeting your gaze, she send you a wink with a small smirk.

A week has passed since your reunion and despite your busy schedule as Ekko's right hand, you found a way to spend at least a few hours every day with Vi. Usually, you hung out on random rooftops around Zaun, telling each other stories and catching up for the lost time. She described in detail what life behind bars was, while you explained what happened in the Undercity since she left.

While you tried to keep your eyes focused on her, rather than her body, the pink-haired woman felt no shame in checking you out and complimenting you every time she saw you. With a heavy blush on your cheeks, you always brushed her comments off - there was no doubt you were crazy attracted to her, but not knowing what her intentions were, and most importantly what her relationship with that enforcer was, you felt like pursuing anything with her would be innapropriate.

Vi, on the other hand, seemed to have her mind already set. So as soon as you proposed to her to go to your room after dinner, so you can relax before you escort her back, she is quick on her feet, eager to finally have some alone time with you. Once you entered, you didn't even have the chance to speak, before she smashed her lips against yours and pushed you down the bed.

"Tell me to stop", she mumbled once she pulled away, but despite her command, her head dipped down toward your neck, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on your already hot skin. Her teeth grazed your skin and once she heard you whimper when she touched one particular spot right under your ear, she wasted no time in biting down hard. Instinctively, you arched your back and tried to pull away, a sharp wince leaving your lips.

"Sorry!", she said sheepishly, before detaching herself from your skin, so she could look at you, "Couldn't control myself!"

The feeling of her breath mixing with yours caused shivers to run down your spine and you lifted yourself in an attempt to claim her lips once again, before her hand grabbed your chin once again, pinning you in place.

"I think maybe we should sto-"

"No!", the word left your mouth before she could even finish her sentence, "Don't stop now!"

If she was in any other situation with any other person, Vi would've pulled away. She didn't like rushing things, especially when it came to intimacy. But as you looked at her with big doe eyes, lips red and swollen from her kisses, how could she possibly say 'no'? You have been her crush since she was thirteen and despite all the years spent apart, her feelings for you were just as strong as they were back then.

"Are you sure?", her expression softened, "Have you ever done this before?"

Her question made you blush, but you still tried to hide your embarrassment by rolling your eyes at her.

"Is this really the time to discuss this? Yes, I've had sex before! "

"With a woman?", both of her brows rose high and you couldn't tell if she was surprised or just making sure. There was a slight twitch of her upper lip and before you could answer, she opened her mouth again:

"Who? Is it someone I know?"

The red colour on your cheeks intensified and soon it spread down your neck. Vi, on the other hand, seemed to be completely serious, as she seemed to watch you with a mix of curiosity and irritation. You pushed your tongue against your cheek, before letting out a huff.

"Vi, why does it matter-"

"I'm just curious", she interrupted, yet something in her look was telling you it was not an innocent curiosity, "Who was she?"

Letting out a sigh, you tried to move your hands, but her grip was still too tight.

"No, I've never had sex with a woman, okay? Only with men... but it can't be that different, right?"

Your answer seemed to satisfy her, as a small smirk formed on her face, before she caught your lips in a bruising kiss, her teeth clashing against yours, while her tongue found its way inside your mouth once again. The hand that was holding your chin slid down to your waist, softly gripping your side and after a minute, she pulled away once again.

"I am going to take care of you...", she promised, laying her forehead against yours, "But if you feel uncomfortable at any moment, you say stop and I stop, okay?"

With each second your body felt hotter and hotter, and you nodded your head at her words, eager for her to just shut up and continue. She kissed you again, this time softer, while she let go of your wrists, giving you the opportunity to wrap your arms around her neck. Her calloused fingers started to work on the button of your blouse, taking extra time unbuttoning each one.

You, however, were not impressed with her gentleness. The more she teased you, the damper your underwear was getting, sticking to your pussy lips, and taking things slow was definitely not what you wanted right now. With trembling fingers, you moved your hands between you, impatiently pulling the buttons till you could open your shirt wide.

Vi, who had her mouth open in order to offer a sarcastic comment about your impatience, found herself gawking at your chest once you had nothing on, but a red bra. Without moving her eyes from it, she moved her hands toward your boobs, softly kneading the soft flesh. She dragged one of her fingers across the edge of your bra, slowly following the line till she reached behind your back to unclasp it. Gently lifting the upper half of your body, she pushed the shirt off your arms, before pulling the straps of your bra down.

Without wasting even a second, her mouth latched onto your nipple, greedily sucking it, while her other hand started playing with your other breast. You let out a loud moan once you felt her tongue swirling around it and you arched your back, trying to get as close to her as possible. Small whimpers of pleasure fell past your lips, while she continued sucking, biting, and licking your nipple, till it was painfully hard.

"Fuck, Vi...", you muttered, trying your best to control the volume of your voice. After all, you had neighbours on both sides of your room, who, without a doubt, already knew what you two were doing. You ran your fingers through her pink locks, letting out a small whine once she released your nipple from her mouth with a loud 'pop'.

"Damn, muffin, are you sensitive or something?", she laughed, noticing how your eyes rolled back when the hot air from her breath hit your skin.

"Shut up...", you mumbled under your breath, avoiding answering. Vi did not press further and instead focused her attention on your other boob, giving it the same treatment. Your hands ran through her hair, your nails gently scratching her buzzcut. She moaned at the feeling and you gasped again, the vibration of her voice travelling all the way down your spine.

Moving your hands down, you tried to tug the ends of her shirt, but she quickly grabbed you, pinning both of your wrists above your head again. She pulled away from your chest, before gazing at your eyes.

"Tonight is about you...", her voice was now deeper and lower, and you felt more juices flowing out of your pussy at the sound of it, "Let me make you mine."

A loud moan escaped your lips at her words and you couldn't stop yourself from lifting your head and smashing your lips against hers. This time you were the one trying to assert dominance - you pushed your tongue inside her mouth, trying to battle hers while pressing your chest against hers. She returned the kiss with the same passion, squeezing your wrists just a bit tighter.

After a minute, she pulled back panting, her normally light blue eyes now a few shades darker. Without a further word, she released you and stood up from the bed, before grabbing the chair next to your desk and moving it in front of your dresser. You watched her with furrowed brows, confused at what exactly was she doing.

Once she sat down on the chair, she turned to you with a small smirk playing on her lips.

"Come here", the command was soft, yet you didn't need to be told twice before you stood up from the bed and made your way toward her. Once you were within an arm's length, she grabbed your waist, before turning you around and stilling you in place.

"Take them off", she said, hooking a finger under the belt loops of your trousers. With trembling hands, you started hurryingly unbuttoning them, eager to get out of the last piece of clothing on you and finally have Vi touch you. At this point, you were so wet, your panties were dripping with juices, which were also covering the top of your thighs. Despite not being a virgin, you couldn't think of a single time you felt so turned on.

You needed her. And you needed her now.

The pink-haired woman watched as you slid both your trousers and your underwear down your toned legs, bending slightly while removing them from your feet and giving her the perfect view of where she planned to bury her head soon enough. You were so submissive, following every direction she gave you, she almost felt like losing control.

Despite how badly she wanted to take you right now and here, she held herself back. If this was your first time with a girl, she didn't want to rush you.

As you threw the last bit of your clothing to the side, she grabbed your ass, squeezing both of your cheeks before pulling you down her lap. Her hands moved to your thighs, draping them over her own, before she spread them, exposing you fully to the large mirror sitting on the dresser in front of you. Vi grabbed your chin, gently moving it up till your eyes met in the reflection of the mirror.

"Don't look away", she whispered in your ear, her breath causing goosebumps on your skin. Her fingers danced on the skin of your legs and you shivered, your head almost falling back, if it wasn't for her holding your chin still. Moving slowly toward your center, she couldn't help but grin once she caught a glimpse of your glistering thighs.

"Look at you, sweet girl", she chuckled next to your ear, her eyes not moving away from the mess between your legs, "I haven't even touched you yet and you are dripping!"

A loud whimper left your lips and you squirmed in her grip, trying to get her to touch you already.

"Vi...", her name left your mouth as a breathy moan and she snapped her gaze to your face, quirking a brow.

"Hm?"

"Touch me already...", you said with a huff, squirming in her lap once again. She watched your face, a ghost of a smile on her lips, as her fingers grazed over your slit. She bit back a groan once she collected some of your juices on her fingers, before smearing them across your pussy lips.

Your whole body shivered once she brushed over your clit.

"Like this?", she asked with a low voice, eyes not moving from your face, "Is this how you want to be touched?"

Her fingers started to draw lazy circles, which slowly turned into the shape of the figure eight. Still forced to watch yourself in the mirror, you noticed how your legs trembled over hers, involuntarily moving closer together. Vi, however, adjusted her knees, moving your dangling feet even further apart.

"Don't!", she warned, her lips leaving small kisses on the base of your neck, "Relax, baby! Gosh, you are so tense!"

You opened your mouth to reply, but once she slipped two of her long fingers into you, the words got stuck in your throat and all that left your lips was an almost pornographic moan. If you could gather at least some of your thoughts, you would probably be embarrassed - you were never one to be vocal in the bedroom, especially since you were living with so many people in the base. On the other hand, no one has ever made you feel even remotely as good as Vi has right now.

The room was filled with the sound of your slick juices and your eyes rolled back, almost closing once Vi curled her fingers inside of you, dragging them against your g-spot. The fingers that were holding your chin lightly tapped your jaw, bringing your attention back to your reflection.

"Don't look away", she whispered in your ear, pumping her fingers faster, "I want you to watch as you come."

Maybe it was the way she said these words or the image of her fingers disappearing into your pussy, but your walls soon started to flutter, sucking her digits back in every time they pulled away from your wetness. You trembled in her embrace, your hand moving behind you so you could grab her neck and push her toward you. She started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder, softly sucking and marking the skin.

Your eyelids started to close and you had to put all the effort you could muster in keeping them open, eyes glued to the sight of her fingers moving in and out of you. Once her thumb started to circle your swollen clit you groaned loudly, a mix of moans and whimpers of her name leaving your lips. The hand that was holding your face moved down to your shaking thighs, trying to keep them open, while you desperately chased your orgasm.

"Cum."

This single word was enough for you to reach your peak and you came, yelling her name while trashing your head back against her shoulder. She held you close to her, whispering sweet words into your hair, which your mushy brain could not even comprehend right now. Her fingers slowed their movements but did not stop till you relaxed your back against her, breathing heavily.

There were a few minutes of silence between you, interrupted by your whimper once she dragged her dripping fingers out of your pussy.

"Vi?", you asked with a small voice, still trying to catch your breath and come back to your senses.

The woman only hummed in response, placing small kisses on your neck, which made you squirm in her arms. With a quiet chuckle, she met your eyes in the mirror, lifting a brow.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded your head, feeling too tired to even close your legs which were still dangling over her own. You both looked at the reflection of your glistering pussy, which was dripping with the juices of your release, covering both your skin and Vi's pants.

"When did you learn how to...", you stopped, trying to think of how to phrase your question without sounding too vulgar, "do that?"

Vi let out a loud snort, moving her head to the side, so she can look at your face.

"Muffin, I've been to prison", she pointed out with a small teasing smile on her face, the hand on your thigh gently squeezing the soft skin.

"So?"

Instead of answering, she laughed before shaking her head from the side. Before you can ask her what is so funny, she closes her legs, bringing your own knees together, before she turns you around, scooping you in her arms.

"You're cute", is all she says, before pushing her arms under your knees and back and standing up. She gently carries you to the bed, before laying you down, assuming her previous position on top of you.

"Let me make you mine now...", the words came out as a growl, as she removed her jacket.

You were in for a long, long night...

cc artwork: "Cyberpunk 2077" concept art

[organic-bloodbath]

thank you for the chishiya x pregnant!reader, it was so good!! i hadn’t finished the show when i sent my request, not knowing he was a doctor lol

if you’re still taking requests… how about after they wake up in the hospital, and reader has already delivered their baby? anything soft or fluffy💕 thank you!!

Child of Hearts - Part 2

Chishiya x Pregnant!Reader

This applies to two different requests:

"I just read your child of hearts shot it was so nice, so like after the borderlands, like when they are in hospital due to the meteorite and all.

So the child is born in the hospital and all are safe,  i want chishiya reaction to seeing his child for the first time. While being in the hospital bed along with the reader who was lucky to survive the crash"

- Anon

Part 1

Summary: You wake up in the hospital and get back home safely. Later, you finally deliver the baby, Chishiya by your side.

A/N: Second part for softie and fluffy Chishiya ♡ Thank you for everyone reading the first part, hope this is alright 🫶🏻

♤♡♧◇

You opened your eyes, confused where you were and what had just happened. At first, you saw only white all around you. White ceiling, white walls, and as you looked down, you were covered with a white blanket.

You were starting to panic. You had no memory what had led you to a hospital. This was a hospital, right? You were too paralyzed to even move at first.

Then, a few flashes came back into your mind. You were only crossing the street outside with Chishiya, a crowd of people surrounding you, until you noticed something bright in the sky. After that, no memory at all.

You didn't know how many minutes you stayed still and in your thoughts, but after a moment the door opened and a woman in a doctor's coat came in.

"Oh, you're finally awake!" she exclaimed and came to stand next to you. "Are you feeling alright, Ms. Tanaka?"

"Um, what happened?" you asked and instantly coughed, finding your voice a little raspy. "Can i get some water?"

"Of course, honey," the woman said and brought you a cup of water. "Do you remember anything?"

You shook your head.

"A meteorite hit Tokyo and people were taken to the hospital, you included," she explained.

"A meteorite?" you asked in shock, brows shot up close to your hairline. That wasn't at all what you had expected. It wouldn't have been even close to any guesses you might have had.

"It's a wonder, really, how little bruises and injuries your body suffered," she said. "Only your leg got a severe hit and you lost a lot of blood. We took you in for a surgery, and you'll be fine."

You glanced at your leg under the blanket and found your thigh wrapped in bandages.

"Is my baby..." You laid your hand protectively on your stomach, trying to find any movements but felt nothing.

"Your baby is alright," she smiled. "We examined her throughly and she's healthy and well."

"Her?" you whispered, eyes wide. You hadn't known the gender of the baby, you had wanted it to be a surprise when the baby would be born.

"Oh, you didn't know the gender?" the doctor asked, surprised. "I apologize for ruining the surprise."

Then, your eyes widened.

"Chishiya? Where's Chishiya?" you panicked. "Please, please don't tell me he's-"

"Mr. Shuntaro is alright," she calmed you down. "He's awake and well. I'll send him here soon, you shouldn't get up and walk yet."

You let out a breath of relief. Everything was fine. You were going to be fine. Nothing to worry about. Chishiya was okay. Your baby was okay. You were okay.

When you saw Chishiya approaching you not long after, tears started pouring down your cheeks before you even realized it.

"Y/N!" Chishiya breathed out and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He held you in silence for a while, and you let yourself cry against his shoulder. He planted a kiss on the top of your head. "When i woke up alone, for a second i thought i had lost you."

"I'm okay," you assured him. "And the baby is too."

You stayed like that for a few more minutes.

"Let's go outside for a bit," Chishiya suggested after a while. "It's good for you to get some fresh air."

He told you he'd get you a wheelchair if you were too weak to walk on your own but you weren't that much in pain. Although, when you put weight on your left leg, you did let out a short wince, making Chishiya force you to sit back down until he'd gotten you crutches to use.

On your way through the corridors, you saw many patients who had their arm or leg wrapped in bandages but were overall doing well. Some were on a wheelchair and some moved with the help of crutches, like you. You wondered how many people died in the accident and how many were left only injured, like you. Then, a fear in your chest rose if any of your friends or family had been around and gotten hurt. Right now, you recognised none of the patients. You wished you would have though, because that would mean atleast they weren't dead.

As you arrived outside, the sun shining bright on a cloudless sky, you and Chishiya sat on a bench together. You were both quiet for a moment, only enjoying the fresh air.

"Do you feel somehow... different after the accident?" Chishiya asked.

"I suppose, a little bit," you answered, furrowing your brows. "I can't really explain it."

"Me neither. It's like something inside me has changed, but i can't figure out what."

You did have an odd feeling. Like there was something missing, but you couldn't figure out what could mean.

"I haven't been in an accident as big as this before," you stated. "Does every victim, like us, feel this way? Like, as if you now have more will to live after almost dying."

"Well, technically we did die for 1 minute," he corrected.

"That's strange, isn't it?"

"Sure is," Chishiya agreed.

You were about to say something, when someone approached you.

"Y/N? Oh thank goodness, darling," an older woman rushed towards you and immediately put her arms around you, squeezing you so hard you were barely able to breathe.

"Mom, i'm fine," you mumbled against her blouse. "What are you doing here?"

"They called me, of course," she said. "I'm sorry, i would have come sooner but you know how it is at work."

You weren't so close to your mother anymore, you saw her very rarely. She had always put her work and career before you, sparing you the most minimal amount of time she could.

"Oh, and Chishiya," mom gasped, as if only now noticing his presence, and took him into a hug as well, startling him completely.

Mom had never hugged Chishiya before, so Chishiya only froze and didn't manage to hug her back, not really knowing what to do. You found the confused expression on his face amusing and couldn't help but smirk a little.

"What a miracle that the both of you survived that massive attack." She let go of Chishiya, looking down at your stomach. "Oh, i mean, the three of you, of course."

"Is everyone else alright?" you asked.

"Yes, as far as i know," she nodded. "I've asked all our family and friends and they were all okay."

♤♡♧◇

They kept you at the hospital for two more days to make sure everything was alright with you and the baby, doing a few tests, until they gave you the permission to go back home.

Your father, who had moved to Korea after his new wife seven years ago, called you for the first time in five years as well. You had let him know of your pregnancy, but he hadn't cared to be involved in your life very much. So his call was a complete surprise, but it was a nice gesture to see that his daughter didn't die.

As you got back home, slowly you and Chishiya settled back to your normal daily routine and tried to continue your life as before.

♤♡♧◇

♡ 6 WEEKS LATER ♡

You and Chishiya were at a restaurant, having a dinner together. You hadn't gone out in a long time, so it was nice to have a fancier meal for once. Right now, you were in the bathroom, leaving Chishiya to sit at the table by himself and wait for the bill.

While washing your hands, you felt your underwear become wet. Your eyes widened as you looked down to your feet and right then you felt pain in your stomach.

"Oh, fuck," you whispered. "No, no, no."

"Hey, you oka-" a girl came to you from one of the stalls right at that moment, but her words stuck in her throat when she looked down as well. "Oh. Oh." She put her hand on your shoulder. "Come on, i'll help you."

You gasped after another cramp.

"Are you alone here or with someone?"

"I'm w-with my boyfriend."

"Okay, i'll help you to him, it'll be okay."

You didn't know this woman but you were thankful for her help, anyway. You clung on her elbow as she walked you towards Chishiya. He turned to look at you, confused at first why you were dragging a stranger with you, but soon realized what was happening.

Chishiya was immediately right by your side, holding you up by his hand on your arm and other around your back.

"Okay, we'll need to get to the hospital," Chishiya said. He didn't show it, but inside he was freaking out a little. He knew this day could come any moment by now and had mentally prepared himself for that, but it still came as a surprise since you were in a public place.

"I can drive you," the girl offered. "It'll be faster than ordering a taxi."

You and Chishiya shortly exchanged glances.

"Okay, okay thank you, i-" you started but your words were interrupted by a gasp of pain.

Chishiya and the girl helped you to the backseat of her car, Chishiya sitting right next to you.

"I'm Kuina, by the way," the girl said, glancing over her shoulder after she had put her seatbelt on.

The entire car ride, which didn't last more than 15 minutes, Chishiya held your hand and tried to make you stay calm.

"So, you know if it's a boy or girl yet?" Kuina asked.

"Girl," you answered when the car stopped at traffick lights. "It's a girl."

Kuina smiled. "I'm sure she's going to be a very beautiful child."

♤♡♧◇

"Chishiya, i can't do this," you muttered on the hospital bed. "Please, don't make me do this, i want to go home. Can't we do this tomorrow or next week or-"

Chishiya cupped your face in his hands, stopping your panicked rambling. "I'll be with you the entire time, don't worry."

"I can't-"

"Yes, you can," he assured you while you were crying. "You're one of the strongest people i know. It'll be over sooner than you realize."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

♤♡♧◇

Hours later, after finally delivering the baby, which had been the most exhausting, painful and terrifying experience in your life, the baby had been taken away shortly.

You were only lying on the bed, your body feeling heavier than ever before. Chishiya sat next to you on a chair, his hand resting on yours. You had squeezed his right hand so hard during the delivery that he could have easily twisted his fingers into wrong positions.

"You did well," Chishiya said with a soft voice. "They'll be back any minute."

"I'm so tired," you mumbled.

Chishiya brushed your hair with his fingers. Your forehead was still sweaty. "I know."

After around 15 minutes, Chishiya left to go to the bathroom. Just a moment after, a doctor came inside, holding something in her arms and a wide smile on her lips.

"Here she is," she announced and gave the baby to you, wrapped tightly in a white blanket.

As you held her in your arms and looked at her sweet little face, your eyes started to water immediately and in just a few seconds you were crying.

She was so beautiful with her big dark eyes and toothless smile. She was so tiny and fragile that you were almost scared to hold her too tight.

"Hi, honey," you chuckled through the tears. You wiped your thumb gently on her cheek and right when you were about to pull your hand away, she grabbed your thumb with her little hand, looking into your eyes.

Soon, the door opened again and Chishiya stepped back inside, stopping on his tracks when he saw you and your child. Your cheeks were wet from the tears as you lifted your head to look towards him.

"Shiya," you breathed out. "Come here."

He walked towards you slowly, as if afraid that this was all a dream and if he took one wrong step, he'd wake up back to a much darker reality.

He stopped right by your side and looked at the baby, locking eyes with her. He was speechless and couldn't find any words to say.

"Do you want to hold him?" you offered.

You gave the baby to him and he carefully took her into his arms, being as careful with her as you had been too, scared to drop and break her.

Chishiya only looked at his daughter for a while in awe. He took her small hand in his and flinched, when the baby let out a little laugh. It immediately made a smile spread on his face, and you could see his eyes starting to water a little bit, but he forced to keep the tears inside. You didn't think you had ever seen him cry in front of you.

"She's beautiful," Chishiya whispered, then turning to you. "Like her mother."

You chuckled, cheeks warming up - even after these few years, the compliments Chishiya gave to you still made you blush and your heart flutter. You couldn't believe that all three of you had survived a meteorite attack with only a few scratches and were now here together.

Chishiya gave her back to you, and you moved yourself a little to the left so that Chishiya could sit on the edge of the bed with you. He put his arm around you, gently squeezing your shoulder and pressing a kiss on the top of your head. He let his head lean against yours as you both just looked at your child together.

"Shiya?" you whispered.

"Hm?"

"What should we name her?"

"Don't mothers always have a list of ideas what to name their kids?"

"I did have, but none of them seem good enough now," you said and let your thoughts wander around your mind for a moment, until it catched one of idea. "I think... Akane."

"Akane," he tried, tasting it in his mouth first a little bit and looking at your daughter in your arms who had eyes on you the entire time. "She does look like an Akane."

"Where have i heard that name before?" you wondered. "It sounds familiar."

Chishiya thought about it for a moment. "It does, doesn't it? But it's a beautiful name nevertheless."

"Y/N, Chishiya and Akane," you smiled and looked into Chishiya's eyes. "I like that."

Chishiya smiled back and kissed you gently on your lips. "Me too."

♤♡♧◇

A/N: i hope you liked this, let me know what you think 🫶🏻

[strangersteddierthings]

Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 7)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Author's note: I already had this chapter prepared that's why I'm posting it. The next ones are gonna be the much longer, so probably will take a little more to be posted! I hope you enjoy it and once again thank you for you support on Second Best 💜

“Y/n? Wooow. I didn’t expect to see you here. Are you okay? Saw you a little nervous back there, came to ask if you needed anything. Didn't know it was actually you” it took her a while to be able to speak again but managed to say something.

“No, I’m good. I mean I was with my friend but lost sight of her and now I can’t find her and I'm losing my mind because I don’t know where I am or how I’ll get back to the chalet we’re in and ----” she rambled, making Tae be even more confused.  

“Hey, calm down. Sewoon really doesn’t change. I’m sure she didn’t see you weren’t following her tracks. Do you wanna drink something and catch up? I heard hot chocolate here is fantastic.” 

“Hmmm... I- I'm not here with Sewoon.. It’s Lisa, do you remember her? I saw her one night I went out with Sewoon and Jun--” y/n stops and tries to rephrase her words hoping Taehyung didn’t catch it. “Anyways, yeah, I’m here with Lisa. Girls trip actually, first day and I'm already lost." she laughs about her luck (or lack thereof). 

“It wouldn't be you if you didn't have anything contradictory to say about your adventures to be very honest. So what do you say? You, me and hot chocolate? Maybe you’ll see Lisa around there. If not I’ll help you look for her I promise.” Taehyung says with his charming smile. You remember Sewoon’s constant bragging about his smile, it was always her favourite trait of his. That and how good he treated her. She got really devastated when they broke things off. You felt really bad and tried to help her the best way you could, but she never gave you any information about their break up. You always suspected it, but never pushed it. “Let’s go then. You pay anyway so I’m not backing up.” Y/n says with a genuine smile. Tae was right, she could find Lisa on the way there and besides that she knew him for years now and he was someone she could trust.  

She really didn't want to be alone anyway, maybe it would be good. Y/n remembers that the only person she kept in touch with was Sewoon and she never realized why she didn't continue to get in touch with her old friends.  Was she so focused on her friendship with Sewoon, being grateful for everything they've been through together that she forgot to appreciate the little things and people in her life?

Y/n didn't understand why she was thinking about all of this right now, she was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't realize they were arriving at the cafe close to where they were before. He opened the door for her and she thanked him silently, nodding her head and walking in ahead of him, sitting at the nearest table. It was strange, but all that silence between her and Tae wasn't uncomfortable at all. Y/n remembers that before he and Sewoon started dating, they were very close, maybe that was why she was so relaxed, despite the circumstances. The waitress came to get their order and while they were waiting Tae started talking  

“This place is fantastic, isn't it? I've been here a few times and I never get tired of this view.” he said looking outside. “The first time I came was when I broke up with Sewoon, you know? Speakig of I saw her a few months ago when I returned to visit my parents, I ran into her in a restaurant, we exchanged a few words but nothing more. Are you still friends? I never heard anything from you again. What have you been up to?” They were interrupted by the waitress delivering their orders, thanked her and both tried the region's famous hot chocolate. It really was wonderful 

“Yes, I'm still friends with her. I- my god Tae, how long has it been since we last saw each other? she laughed. “So much happened between the lines after we all separated. I mean, I'm still in the same place. I rented an apartment for myself, work in a coffee shop relatively close to home too, you know how it is, I've always been very reserved, my life remains the same. I haven't changed much since we were younger" She said smiling

“You never change Y/n. That was always what caught my attention the most, always so dedicated and focused on your goals, always so... You. I'm glad to see you're still like this. And boys? Do you have someone special in your life?” At this Y/n chokes on her hot chocolate. She wasn’t expecting this question, at all. She cleared her throat. “Yes. I mean no. There's not much to say about it. You know me, I'm weird when it comes to guys Tae." She laughs, trying to lighten the mood and make the subject disappear. Why was she always so nervous about this kind of topic? Deep down she knew why but didn't want to think about it just as she didn't want anyone to know that at 23 years old she never had a real boyfriend or experienced anything related to guys besides kissing. A shame, she knows. 

“Weird why? Have you ever taken a good look at yourself? Y/n you were always beautiful and time only continued to be generous with you. It wasn't for nothing that I had a massive crush on you when in highschool. I still feel hurt that you didn't give me a chance”. Tae laughs like it was the most natural thing in the world while Y/n looked at him with a confused expression. Crush? Chance? What the hell did was he talking about? Taehyung must have noticed because seconds later he stopped laughing and looked at her seriously. “It looks like you've seen a ghost Y/n. Is everything okay? I'm just kidding, I know how to handle rejection, don't worry, I was never upset. Life went on” 

“It's not that, it's just... What rejection? I never rejected you Tae. I didn't even know you had a crush on me, you caught me off guard."

“What do you mean? That was the reason why I approached you at school in the first place. Don't act like you don't know, you even responded to the letter I sent you.” Damn he was really offended by your lack of memory.  

Y/n looked at him sternly. "Tae I'm telling you I didn't know anything about this, I didn't respond to any letter, I don't know what you're talking about. Stop making fun of me” Now she was getting mad. Why would she lie about this. Tae's face fell and if before his skin was glowing by the European sun now he could be confused with the wall of the cafe they were at. He was white as snow. Literally 

“Sophmore. It was the year I started hanging out with you more, I got closer little by little until the three of us spent a lot of time together. At that time I had a huge crush on you. Sewoon knew, I asked her to help me. I was always asking her things about you, what you liked, what your favorite color was, that sort of thing that kids do when they want to win someone over, but you never paid attention to me so I decided to write you a letter that, by the way, was the most beautiful thing I ever wrote. Sewoon said she would make sure the letter reached you. A few days later I received a letter saying that you were sorry but didn't feel the same way about me and that we could be friends but nothing more and you didn't want to make things awkward between us, so I dropped the subject. At the time I was really sad but I understood your reasons. Sewoon was fantastic duringt my heartbreak. She supported me a lot and as time passed, she ended up telling me she had feelings for me and one thing led to another and we ended up dating, as you know. The rest is history” 

Y/n was completely in shock, she had no words, no reaction, nothing. Her brain was working too fast and she couldn't keep up. When she was finally going to say something, someone called her name. "Y/n. Ohh Y/n. I've been looking for you like a fool, I never saw you again, I thought you were stuck in an alley and I wouldn't find you in all this snow. God I’m so thankful I found you but also wanna kill you for disappearing like this." 

“"I... first of all it wasn't me who ran off, it was you! When I looked to the side you were no longer there and I started to panic. Luckily I found an old friend around here too, you remember Tae right?” Lisa looked at where he was sitting 

“Tae? Sewoon's Tae? is it really you? Damn, you look different. Finally managed to grow a beard I see and you also got buff. Your old self must be very proud right now” Lisa teases. How does she manage to have these comments at the most inopportune moments? 

“Thank you for taking care of y/n in my absence. We just got here and she’s already making trouble, bad habits never die" she says winking at him and teasing Y/n while she sighs, rolling her eyes 

“The pleasure was mine. I'm very happy to see you, despite the situation." His gaze passes from one to the other "how long are you going to stay here?" Y/n responds an "I don't know" while Lisa says "a whole week". They look at each other and Lisa makes a face "don't tell me you're already changing your mind! Y/n you promised me." She didn't say anything, instead she picked up the hot chocolate and drank it all. Everywhere she went it seemed like trouble was always behind her. She wanted to shout, grabLisa and leave but she knew Tae wasn't guilty of anything and she felt ashamed of doing it, as if she was capable anyway. She knew Tae felt the discomfort in the air because he got up, left two bills on the table, straightened up and spoke 

"I'm glad you've already found each other. I have to get going, but I'll see you around. Lisa, order something for yourself, this is on me. Enjoy the rest of your day and please stay out of trouble” He said laughing while putting on his coat. He started heading towards the exit but looked back one last time, put his hands in his pockets and left. Only then did Y/n manage to let go of all the air she had been holding in.

“Did I interrumpt something here? I’m sorry I didn’t even ask, but I was so worried about you. Y/n?- Y/n?” Lisa started to get worried. After Tae left she got so pale and apathic. Y/n puts her elbows on the table and her hands on her head and begged "I need to get some air. I can't breathe. Please Lisa, no more questions, let’s get out of here. Please.” Lisa didn't say anything else, picked her up and helped her go outside where they stayed for a while until Y/n started to feel a bit better. Lisa didn’t say anything else and just waited for her friend to say something. 

“Sorry Lisa, I don't know what happened. I'm just... This was supposed to be an amazing time for us and I’m just ruining it, I’m so sorry" She hugged Lisa and started crying. She had so much accumulated from the last few days and now this bombshell dropped on her. She didn't understand. She always saw Tae and Sewoon together back in school. This didn't add up. 

“What happened back there Y/n?”  

“We were just talking about how we were doing right now, then he asked me if I had anyone in my life and I got nervous. Then he revealed to me that he had a huge crush on me at highschool and I was super quiet, I wasn't expecting it. He said that Sewoon helped him and everything, that he wrote me a letter to which I responded. Lisa I swear I never knew about anything. Tae's feelings, the letter, nothing, the only thing I know is that since Tae approached us, Sewoon has always been interested in him and that things were going well between them.” 

"Y/n there is something you have to understand. Just because you think Sewoon is a good person, doesn't mean it corresponds to reality. Why do you think I never joined you when she was present? Honestly, I never understood what good you saw in her. Deep down she was always like that, bad and conceited. I think you were always too good to realize that she was always jealous of you. I really thought there would be a time where you would open your eyes but not even with the situation that happened with Jungkook did you stay away from her. She was mean! She knows it, you know it and everyone knows it! It wasn't cool, period! You need to open your eyes” 

“But why Lisa, why?! I never did anything to upset her, I was always in my corner. You all know that I've always been very shy and reserved, I never cared about that kind of things. There is no comparison between me and her, I don't understand why she acts like that. I never gave her reasons” Y/n was extremely affected by today’s events. 

“Exactly Y/n, you have no comparison and she knows it! You are calm, focused, respectful, you help everyone around you without looking back, you don't go hurt anyone to get what you want. And she is the opposite of you, she knows that. You attract attention with your simplicity. She's eccentric and lucky to be pretty, but it's all superficial. Why do you think nothing lasts for her? Think Y/n, be smart!” 

Y/n didn't say anything else and started walking to the chalet. Although she didn't want to admit it Lisa was right. No good friend would do what Sewoon has done to her. She knew Y/n had feelings for Jungkook and at still went for him, she didn't think twice. Y/n would never do that to her. Her parents were not that present in her life but the values they instilled in her were always the best, perhaps it was time to put them into practice.

As soon as they arrived Lisa started to prepare something for them to eat and Y/n went to take a shower. It was exactly what she needed, a long, hot bath to relax her body and her mind. But instead she started thinking about Jungkook and how much she missed him, his smell, his hugs, the way he makes her feel alive. She never turned on her phone again, she should at least tell him she was fine.  

They've never gone this long without talking. Everything was eating her up. She was being unfair to Jungkook, he wasn't to blame for what she was feeling. He didn't know anything, because she never told him, nor hinted. Sewoon knew, as she knew that Tae liked her and was never honest about it. Things were slowly coming together in her brain, but will things get fixed when she returns home? 

She gets out of the shower, takes her bathrobe and wraps herself in it, does her skin care and leaves the bathroom heading to the living room to find Lisa sitting by the table with everything ready and several bottles of wine.   

“ I'm sorry for everything. I have been such a terrible friend and have neither helped to lighten the mood nor making this a fun time for us.” Lisa doesn't say anything, just motions for Y/n to sit next to her, pouring her a glass of wine. She sits down next to her and drinks a little.  

“I know how you feel Y/n. Even if it doesn't seem like it, I've been in your shoes before, where Sewoon played her part. It's not something I like or want to talk about, but maybe it explains why I withdrawn myself. I can’t take her seriously and just to see she keeps doing it makes me want to punch her in the face. I’m here for you but you need to change something about how you view things and face it when you know they’re wrong. I did. Let's just enjoy another day or two here. Whatever you decide next you tell me. We will have lots of opportunities to come back here and honestly I prefer that you resolve everything that bothers you first so that you can enjoy things as you deserve. And now let's stop talking about sad things for a while, let's eat, drink and listen to music. I won’t say for us to break something because then my father will annoy my ass. There was one time someone called my dad and told him I was making too much noise everyday, he appeared here and caught me and the boy I was having a fling with at the time in the middle of sex, you can imagine how that went.” 

Y/n laughed out loud. "and you say I’m the one who always has the most embarassing moments. I can imagine your dad’s face, dude how gross.” Y/n said making a disgusted face 

“Hands down to that. It was the worst experience of my life, for real. This happened when I was 21 tho, was he expecting me to be a nun?” Lisa laughs and takes a sip of wine. Y/n stays quiet for a moment, but then blurts out  

“I never had sex” Lisa looked at her and smiled “So? Everyone has their own time Y/n. If you feel good about your decision that’s all that matters” 

“Sewoon would always mock me about it. She said I wasn’t normal for waiting so long to have intercourse. She would tell me all about her adventures with guys, she even tried to tell me about her and Jungkook. She would make me feel really bad, there was one time when she came to my house, drunk as hell and told me about an adventure she had with Tae in the bathroom of a club and then she turned to me and said I was a freak for not wanting to sleep with anyone and that it wasn't normal at my age to not be curious about it. I was so upset with her that the next day I ignored her completely, but it didn’t last long” 

“You’re really dumb when you want to, y’know? If it was me I would have kicked her ass and show her a real deal” Y/n nods with Lisa's statement “I know Lisa, I know. I was dumb, I see that now. The thing is Sewoon was my comfort zone. I grew up with her my whole life, although there were some times her attitude would upset me a little, but she was the only there for me, maybe that's why I always ignored the bad things she would do, now looking back I know that her intentions were not the greatest.

“Total bitchy. So you never had a boyfriend? You never did anything? 0?” Y/n looked at her mad “No I’m sorry I was just-- That's not what you're thinking, calm down. I was just trying to understand what level we are at. I'm not judging Y/n, as I said, we have to respect others choices, but why? I mean you're amazing, I'm sure there was someone who has shown interest and made a move” 

“I did have a boyfriend but nothing special, we were very young and immature. I wasn’t ready for that and I’m sure he wasn’t either. So maybe that doesn’t count? My shyness always stopped me from doing a lot of things and with Sewoon by my side I saw everyone paying attention to her and I was always left behind, it kinda made me think I wasn't good enough for anyone to pay attention to, so I ended up taking refuge in my studies. Even when there was someone showing interest in me I thought they were taking advantage of my naivety. I never had anything to offer, why would they pay attention to me when they had her. All of this changed when I met Jungkook, he made me feel seen. For the first time I felt like I could be myself without being afraid of being judged.  

“Do you miss him?”  

“I do. I miss him so much and he is not to blame for what is happening. He doesn't know my feelings. I've been to blame for something he has no idea about. I've been trying not to pick up the cell phone and talk to him, apologize for my actions and explain him everything but if I do I'm afraid of ruining our friendship, though it's already damaged after that night at the club.” talking about Jungkook made her heart hurt as she felt tears prick her eyes. She was so in love with him, only if she had built the courage to speak up.

Lisa gets up and goes to the small closet with a drawer near her, grabbing a cell phone and giving it to y/n. "Call him or text him, whatever eases your anxiety a little, or don't do anything at all but don't stop enjoying the moment you're in now just because you can't let go of the past. Go get some rest I'll clean today, make sure to sleep well tonight because tomorrow we’re gonna have fun and the past will be just that. Goodnight babe. If you need anything I’m just a knock away” 

Y/n cleans her tears, grabs her phone and hugs Lisa, appreaciating everything she has done for her. She doesn't know if it's the wine taking effect or the anxiety growing inside her but a huge urge to vomit appears as soon as she turns on her cell phone. Sitting on the edge of the bed she starts seeing the notifications pop up. Unanswered texts and calls from Jungkook, begging her to say if she's okay, questioning why she left and didn't tell him anything. She knows he’s hurt. She hurt him.  

A wave of courage washes over her and she writes a text, but suddenly runs to the bathroom and vomits her soul out, ending up staying there for a while and when she returns the courage fades away, as she starts to thinks if it's a nice idea to talk to him. She comes to the conclusion that things are better to stay as they are. When she has the opportunity to talk to him, it's either the end or start of a cycle. After a few minutes she deletes the text she wrote and turns off her cell phone again, putting it on the bedside table.

She wasn't ready for it, not just yet 

-----------------

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @jk97bam @11thenightwemet11 @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv @imagine-this-motherfucker @jk-190811

Next

[angelsuecult]

gold dust woman | s. crosby

“and is it over now, do you know how?

pick up the pieces and go home”

warnings: sexual content, implied (f) masturbation, thigh-riding, MDNI, 18+, nsfw, strong language, controversial? age gap, father’s friend, infidelity

summary: Sid has a nice encounter with a daughter (22) who’s existence he hadn’t know about, your father, a childhood friend who hes only just reconnected with.

request description: age gap sid, immediate strong tension, meeting sidney for the first time.

wordcount: 6.9k

song: gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

a/n: hi guys i hope you enjoy this request i tried to do it justice so if u requested it, don't hesitate to let me know how i did. anyways i really enjoyed writing this one so i hope you guys enjoy reading it too. i'm currently planning on releasing two more soon maybe tonight maybe tomorrow so i hope you guys will like those too! okay, enjoy reading!

___

Sidney hadn’t seen your dad in what felt like forever, one of those people he’d lost touch with as life and hockey pulled him in different directions. So, when the invite came through for a summer get-together, it felt like the perfect opportunity to reconnect. He’d been looking forward to catching up with some old friends, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what greeted him when the door swung open.

He wasn’t sure who he expected to open the door, but it definitely wasn’t you.

The moment you opened the door, he was caught off guard. He’d expected someone, but not you. Not someone who looked like that-who carried that kind of presence, the kind that immediately knocked the air out of him.

Standing there, framed by the soft summer sunlight, you looked like you didn’t belong to this world. He took you in all at once, a tidal wave of feeling that knocked the air out of his chest. You were–Jesus, you were stunning. Maybe it was your pretty face, the soft curve of your lips, or the way your half-lidded eyes lazily flicked up to meet his with the kind of confidence that left him instantly, completely whipped. His gaze trailed down, unable to stop itself from following the smooth lines of your body, your legs impossibly long in those fitted jeans that hugged you just right as if they'd been made specifically for you, and that small t-shirt that barely covered the soft lines of your waist. But what did him in, what completely took over his brain for a solid few seconds, were your hands. They rested at your sides, fingers delicate and perfect, the kind of hands that could bring a man to his knees if you wanted. His mind ran wild thinking about what they'd feel like against his skin before he could even stop himself. He tried not to stare, tried to keep it casual. But the way your lips curled slightly as you took him in made his heart skip a beat or two.

It was like you had walked straight out of a dream he didn't know he had.

The moment stretched between you both, thick and charged, until you spoke first, your voice low and teasing, like you knew exactly what he was thinking. It took everything in Sidney not to close the distance between you.

“Hey, you must be Sidney,” you said, stepping back to let him in, your gaze never leaving his. There was something in the way you looked at him, something that had his pulse jumping in his throat. It was too much. Too soon. He hardly knew you, yet he wanted you in a way that felt raw, primal. But he forced himself to keep his cool, to not let it show just how much you were already affecting him.

Your voice. God, it did something to him��a soft, smoky tone that hit his ears like honey. Sidney cleared his throat, feeling suddenly out of his element.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he replied, his voice somehow steady, though his heart was anything but. He walked inside, giving you a smile that he hoped looked casual, but when his eyes met yours again, it was anything but. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop the way his gaze roamed over you again, slower this time, dragging over every inch of your body. “Guess your dad hasn’t told me much about you,” he said, a lazy attempt at teasing, but it felt stiff.

You closed the door behind him, turning smoothly, effortlessly, like you were made for it, made for moving in a way that left him unable to focus on anything but you. Sidney had never been so thrown off his game so quickly. You weren’t just beautiful; you were dangerous. The kind of girl who could walk into any room and leave it spinning in her wake.

Your eyes scanned him slowly, taking your time before answering, “I’m full of surprises.” You led him into the house, your walk slow and confident, hips swaying slightly in a way that felt entirely too intentional. Sid clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes forward, pretending he wasn't completely aware of every single move you made. “My dad’s in the backyard. He’ll be in soon.”

Sidney nodded, his brain still catching up to the fact that you were his old friend’s daughter. That this wasn’t some random woman he could flirt with without consequences. Your dad was a good guy, and Sidney respected him, but damn, it was hard to keep that in mind when you were looking at him like you were right now—like you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse loud in his ears. He could feel the warmth creeping up his neck, the heat pooling low in his stomach, and for a split second, he wondered if you could feel it too–this magnetic pull between you. Could you feel the tensions between you two? Because it was damn near suffocating him. The way you looked at him, like you were daring him to make a move, was driving him crazy. He didn't know if it was your face, your lips, or the way your body seemed to make him drive him wild. Probably all of it. But he needed to keep his cool, needed to act like this wasn't affecting him, like he wasn't already thinking about what it would be like to have your legs wrapped around him. He couldn’t let himself go there, not with you. Not with the daughter of an old friend.

Before Sidney could say anything more, your dad’s voice called from the backyard, breaking the spell. Your dad stepped into the room through the sliding door. But you didn't miss the way Sidney’s eyes flickered toward you, the briefest moment of hunger before his expression shifted to something more casual. It was subtle, but the heat between you two was undeniable.

He shook your dad’s hand as if the world hadn’t shifted the second you opened the door. The man clapped him on the shoulder, grinning ear to ear, before excusing himself to the bathroom. “Be right back, Sid–make yourself at home.”

And suddenly it was just the two of you again, the tension simmering between you like an unspoken agreement that neither of you acknowledged outright.

You stood there, leaning slightly against the counter, your eyes flicking to him again. He could feel your gaze tracking him as he took a few steps deeper into the house, pretending to admire the space. But truthfully, he was trying to ground himself, trying to avoid looking directly at you because every glance sent his mind spinning. The way you looked at him wasn't like the usual attention he got, the way people looked at Sidney Crosby. No, this was different. This felt like you saw right through him. And fuck if it didnt make him want you more.

You haven't said much, but everything in your body language screams control–like you knew exactly what you were doing, exactly how to play this game. And Sidney, despite years of keeping his cool under pressure, was starting to feel like he was on the losing end.

He shifted his weight, trying to focus on something else–anything else–but his eyes kept drifting back to you. He couldn't help it. There was something about you that was utterly unattainable, like everyone else wanted you too, but you were just out of reach, untouchable.

And he wanted you.

Fuck, he wanted you.

But he wasn’t the kind of guy to act on impulse, especially not when it was someone as connected to his past as you were. He had to keep it together. Play it cool. You were young, probably just out of college, while he was–well, definitely not in his twenties anymore. But that didn't stop the way his heart kicked up a notch every time you moved or how his body reacted everytime your gaze lingered on him for just a second too long.

Before either of you could say anything else, your dad returned, oblivious to the tension simmering in the room. You straightened up, the teasing glint in your eye softening just a bit, but Sideny felt it, the crackling energy. You flashed at last glance at him, something playful and almost wicked, before you excused yourself to your room.

As you walked away, Sidney found himself watching the sway of your hips, the way your jeans hugged your endless legs, and just as you disappeared down the hallway, you looked back at him. He knew it wasn’t an accident. That look over your shoulder was deliberate, calculated, and he couldn’t help himself.

Sidney caught himself glancing back at you not once, but twice as you disappeared down the hallway, feeling like an idiot for doing it, but unable to stop himself. The second time, though, he was sure you’d noticed. He couldn’t help himself, he had to look, just to be sure he hadn't imagined it. That tiny smirk was there again, teasing, knowing. You didn’t say anything; you didn’t have to. You already had him hooked.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the way his body reacted to you. He needed to pull himself together. This was ridiculous. He was a grown man, an experienced one at that, but he felt like a kid with a schoolboy crush. All from one glance. One smirk. One little flicker of something between you. He was here to catch up with your dad, not this. Not whatever this was. But the way you moved, the way you looked at him, it was impossible not to want more.

Goddamn, he thought. He was in trouble. He knew that for sure now.

He felt like he'd been thrown into a game he didn't know the rules to, but he wasn't about to shy away. Not when the stakes were this high.

Sidney’s heart pounded in his chest as he turned his attention back to your dad, who was rambling about the backyard, the old crew, and how it’d be like old times again.

But it wasn’t like old times. Not anymore. Not with you there.

“Let's head out back,” your dad said, breaking Sidney’s thoughts. But as they walked through the house and into the backyard, his mind stayed on you, replaying every glance, every tiny shit of your body, wondering what might make him do next.

And somehow, he had a feeling that this was just the beginning.

The backyard was lively, filled with people Sidney hadn’t seen in years, friends of your father, most of whom he recognized from his childhood. Conversations blended into a background hum of laughter, catching up, and the occasional clinking of glasses, but Sidney’s attention was somewhere else entirely.

It was on you.

No matter where he stood, who he talked to, his eyes were constantly searching for you—across the yard, near the fire pit, sitting at one of the tables. And every time he found you, he swore you were looking right back at him. It wasn’t just the occasional glance either. It was a magnetism, a pull, one he couldn’t escape. Whenever you locked eyes, the rest of the world seemed to disappear, like you were the only two people in the crowd.

He tried to focus on conversations, genuinely wanting to reconnect with some of the old friends milling around, but it was impossible to get through more than a sentence or two without wondering where you were. And when you weren’t nearby, he found himself scanning the yard, hoping to catch another glimpse of those half-lidded eyes watching him.

And every single time, you didn’t disappoint.

The tension between you was palpable. When you were close, it was unbearable. And when you were across the yard, it lingered in the space between you, thick like the summer heat. Everyone else was completely oblivious, laughing and chatting like nothing was amiss, like they didn’t feel that electric charge in the air.

Even your dumbass boyfriend didn’t notice. Sidney hadn’t seen you get within arm’s length of the guy all night. Not that he was complaining. Actually, it made him feel a little smug. The way you barely acknowledged him, how you avoided his touch, how you actually looked annoyed every time he tried to get close—Sidney noticed every bit of it.

In fact, your disinterest in your boyfriend became the clearest when everyone had gathered around, embracing him like some long-lost hero. Sidney could feel the weight of your gaze from the edge of the group, the way you hung back while everyone else threw their arms around him, exchanged jokes, and reminisced. You stayed away, distant, cool, those pretty eyes of yours watching him with an intensity that made his stomach tighten.

It wasn’t lost on him either how much you tilted your head when you watched him, like you were studying him, trying to figure out what made him tick. It drove him crazy. He wanted to know if you were thinking the same thing he was. Did you want him like he wanted you? Was your pulse racing every time your eyes met his, or was that just wishful thinking on his part?

He wanted so badly to know what was going through your head.

And then there were the moments when you got close—too close.

Whenever you passed him, whether it was reaching for a drink or moving around the yard, your hand would graze his ever so slightly. Just enough to send a jolt of heat straight through him. He wondered if you knew what you were doing or if it was just coincidence, but after the third or fourth time, he had a feeling it was no accident.

At one point, you brushed by him to grab something off the picnic table, your fingers trailing just barely against his arm. Sidney’s breath caught, and he could feel his skin tingle where you touched him, like a burn that wouldn’t go away. His eyes flicked to yours, and for a split second, the world stopped again. The air between you crackled, heavy and charged. Your lips curved into the smallest smirk, and Sidney had to force himself to tear his gaze away before he did something reckless, like reach out and grab your wrist just to see if that same spark would shoot up his arm.

He shifted his weight, trying to keep himself grounded. His head was spinning, but he couldn’t let it show. Not here, not now. He had to play it cool, even though all he could think about was the way you looked at him with those pretty eyes, your lips slightly parted, as if waiting for him to make the first move. He imagined what it would be like to close the gap, to feel your mouth on his, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the taste of you on his tongue.

But every time the thought crossed his mind, your boyfriend would appear—clueless and completely unaware. The guy didn’t even seem to realize that you were avoiding him, that you were never affectionate, never close. And honestly, Sidney couldn’t help but feel a little smug about it. It wasn’t his fault the guy didn’t notice how your attention was elsewhere.

Sidney’s eyes followed you again as you moved across the yard, your hand brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your fingers grazing the side of your neck. His mouth went dry. He tried to focus on the conversation happening around him, but he couldn’t keep his mind from wandering, from picturing you pressed up against him, your breath warm on his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair.

He needed to get a grip.

Your dad called out to him from across the yard, pulling him back into the moment. Sidney plastered on a smile, lifting his beer in acknowledgment, but his thoughts were still tangled up in you, still replaying every look, every touch.

As the evening wore on, the tension between you only seemed to build. Even though you weren’t constantly in the same group, there was an undeniable pull that kept dragging his attention back to you. Every time he caught you glancing at him from across the yard, every time your hand brushed against him, it felt like another layer of control peeled away.

By the time the sun started to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and gold, Sidney was practically buzzing with need. He was worked up, his mind racing with thoughts he shouldn’t be having, thoughts that would get him into trouble.

But all he could think about was you—about the way your body would feel pressed up against his, the way your lips would taste, the way you’d sigh his name if he touched you the way he wanted to.

It took everything in him not to cross the yard and find a way to get you alone. And from the way you kept glancing at him, he had a feeling you wouldn’t exactly mind if he did.

The night hadn’t ended as he hoped. Sidney's fingers tapped absentmindedly against the steering wheel as he sat in his car, parked in front of your house. His mind was running in circles, replaying every moment of the evening in agonizing detail—the way your eyes lingered on him, the brush of your hand against his arm, the subtle smirk that curved your lips whenever you caught him looking at you.

You were impossible to forget.

The way you had smiled so sweetly, just for him, your fingers brushing against his arm as you whispered, “Goodnight, Sidney,” made his pulse race. But then you had dragged your boyfriend—whom it was so clear you hated—into the house. That should have been his cue to go. It was. He’d told himself there was no point in sticking around when everything was so painfully out of reach.

And yet here he was, still sitting in his car, parked in front of your dad’s house like an idiot, his heart thudding in his chest. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, replaying the way you looked at him, the way your lips had quirked into that teasing little smile. And the worst part? He didn’t want to leave.

He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair, trying to shake the thought of you from his mind. But it was useless. You were everywhere—on his skin, in his thoughts, making him feel like he was going to explode. He needed to get himself together.

Just as he started to gather himself, he heard the passenger door click open. His heart stopped for a second, and when he turned, there you were.

You didn’t say a word as you slid into the car, freshly showered, smelling faintly of soap and shampoo. Your legs, bare beneath those tiny boxer shorts, brushed against the center console, and your top left almost nothing to the imagination. Sidney’s breath hitched, his chest tightening at the sight of you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was low, raspy, barely above a whisper. He wasn’t sure if he was asking you or himself.

The tension that had been building all night, the unspoken pull between you, snapped the moment you settled into the seat beside him. Without even thinking, Sidney reached for you, and you leaned over the center console, your lips crashing into his with an intensity that stole his breath.

The kiss was desperate, hungry, like neither of you could get enough. Sidney’s hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you made a sound—a soft, breathless sigh that sent a rush of heat straight through him. God, you tasted sweet, sweeter than he could’ve imagined, and he couldn’t get enough.

Your lips moved against his, feverish and demanding, and Sidney was lost in you. His other hand slid down your side, feeling the soft, bare skin beneath his fingertips, and you shivered under his touch. Your lips parted, and he didn’t hesitate, his tongue sliding into your mouth, tasting you, exploring every inch. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, but it was perfect—so perfect it made his head spin.

He broke away just long enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard, your lips swollen and red.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough and thick with desire. “You’re so—”

You didn’t let him finish. Your hands were on him, fingers curling into his shirt as you pulled him back in, your lips crashing into his again. Sidney groaned into your mouth, his hand slipping under the hem of your top, sliding up the smooth expanse of your back, desperate to touch more of you.

Your hands moved, fingers curling into the length of his hair as you leaned over the console, practically climbing into his lap. He kissed you like a man starved, each touch, each stroke of his tongue against yours making it harder to remember why this was a bad idea.

“Sidney,” you breathed, your voice a soft, breathy plea that made his blood run hot.

He groaned, his hands sliding down to your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin as he guided you closer. “Come here, baby,” he muttered, pulling you fully onto his lap.

You shifted, and suddenly you were climbing over the center console, straddling his lap, your knees pressing into the seat. Sidney’s hands instinctively found your hips, holding you in place as you settled onto him. The moment you sat down, you both gasped, the heat between you sparking like a live wire.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours before trailing down your jaw to your neck.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access, and he didn’t hesitate, his lips and teeth grazing your skin, eliciting a soft gasp from you. “Fuck,” you sighed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed a path down to your collarbone.

He couldn’t stop the low growl that escaped him as you rolled your hips against him, the friction making him grip you even tighter.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look at you. Your lips were swollen, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes were dark and full of want. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

You smiled, a teasing, almost wicked smile, as you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, it was slower, deeper, your lips moving against his in a way that had him completely unraveling.

“I think I have some idea,” you murmured, your voice full of that quiet confidence that had been driving him insane all night.

“Jesus,” he breathed, his voice low and strained, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he fought to catch his breath. He could feel the warmth of you through your shorts, pressed against his thigh, and it was driving him absolutely wild.

You rocked your hips, testing the waters, and Sidney’s grip tightened on your waist, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

A soft, breathless laugh escaped your lips, and Sidney couldn’t help but smile against your skin. But then you moved again, this time slower, more deliberate, grinding your hips against his thigh, and all traces of humor disappeared.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head tilting back against the headrest, his hands guiding your movements. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “You like that?” you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

Sidney’s hands slid up your back, tangling in your hair as he pulled you down for another kiss. This one was slower, but no less intense. Your lips moved against his in a lazy, sensual rhythm, your hips still grinding against his thigh, sending wave after wave of pleasure through him. His tongue slipped into your mouth again, tasting you, exploring every inch, and you moaned softly into the kiss, the sound making his blood boil.

“Sidney,” you murmured, your voice soft but full of need.

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing gently.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

“Never,” he promised, his voice low and rough as he kissed you again, his hands gripping you tightly as he guided your movements against him.

You leaned forward, your lips finding his neck as you pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to his skin. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as you sucked gently, leaving a faint mark just below his jaw.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his head falling back against the headrest as you continued your assault on his neck.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his as you smiled, that teasing, confident smile that had been driving him crazy all night.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” Sidney murmured against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, guiding you as you moved. “So damn sweet.”

You bit down on his bottom lip, tugging it gently between your teeth, and Sidney groaned, his hands tightening on your waist. “God, you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice rough and desperate. “So perfect.”

Your hands were in his hair, tugging gently as you kissed him, slow and sloppy, your lips swollen and red. Sidney’s hands moved down, gripping your hips as he guided you against his thigh, feeling the heat of you through your shorts.

He pulled away just enough to look at you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “I need you. I need you so bad.”

Your lips curved into a slow, teasing smile, and you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Then take me,” you whispered, your voice soft and sweet, but full of promise.

Sidney didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, his lips crashing into yours once more. The kiss was hot and messy, full of tongue and teeth, and neither of you cared. All that mattered was the feel of you in his arms, the taste of you on his lips, the heat of your body pressed against his.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, his voice rough with desire as his hands slid down to your hips again, pulling you harder against his thigh. “I’ve been wanting this all fucking night.”

Sidney couldn’t remember the last time he felt this out of control. Every kiss, every movement of your hips against him had him feeling like he was seconds away from losing it entirely. You were perched on his lap, legs spread over his thighs, and the way you rocked against him, the heat of you soaking through the fabric of your little boxer shorts—it was intoxicating. His hands were on your waist, guiding your movements slowly, deliberately, just enough to feel the friction but not enough to give you what you so clearly wanted.

Your lips were swollen, a little bruised from how hungrily you had been kissing him, but you didn’t stop. Neither of you did. The taste of you was addictive, and Sidney couldn’t help but groan into your mouth when you kissed him again, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. Your breathless sighs and quiet moans sent shivers down his spine, each sound like music to his ears, pushing him closer to the edge. He felt like a teenager again, like this was his first time sneaking around and making out in the front seat of his car.

But this was so much more intense, so much more desperate.

“Shit,” Sidney muttered, his voice hoarse as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His hands were gripping your hips tightly, guiding you slowly against his thigh, but he could feel the tremble in your legs, the way you were growing more and more restless beneath his touch. You wanted more—he could feel it.

Your head tipped back, lips parted as a soft moan slipped out, and Sidney swore it was the prettiest sound he’d ever heard. He shifted beneath you, the friction of your body against him sending sparks of pleasure coursing through his veins. He wanted to touch you everywhere, to feel every inch of you, but he was holding himself back, trying to maintain just an ounce of control.

But when you started to get impatient, your body grinding harder against his thigh, his restraint started to slip.

“God, you’re driving me nuts,” he breathed, his voice low and rough as his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your back. He could feel the warmth of you through the thin fabric of your shorts, and it was taking everything in him not to just lose it right here in the front seat of his car.

You whimpered softly, your fingers tightening in his hair as you rocked against him harder, chasing the friction, needing more. Sidney’s lips found your neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, feeling you shiver against him.

"Please, Sid," you whispered, your voice soft and needy, the sound sending a jolt of heat straight through him. You tilted your hips, trying to guide his hands lower, to where you really wanted him, but he resisted, keeping his touch light and teasing.

“Not yet,” he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing against your collarbone as his hands gripped your hips tighter, holding you in place. “I want to take my time with you.”

A frustrated moan escaped your lips, and Sidney could feel the tension in your body, the way your breath came in short, shallow gasps as you rocked harder against him, trying to find release on your own. He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips tightly, guiding your movements against his thigh as you ground down, your breath hitching with each movement.

You were so close—he could feel it.

And so was he.

Sidney’s hands wandered beneath your shirt, exploring the soft curves of your body, but still, he didn’t touch you where you wanted him to. He was drawing it out, making you work for it, and the more he held back, the needier you became.

He could feel the heat of you through your shorts, the dampness pooling between your thighs as you pressed harder against him. The thought of you so worked up, so desperate for him, was enough to drive him insane.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Sidney muttered, his voice thick with desire as his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your shorts, brushing against your bare skin. You gasped softly, your body trembling beneath his touch, but he didn’t give you what you wanted, not yet.

"Sid, please," you whimpered, your voice breaking as you grabbed his hand, trying to guide it lower. But instead, he pulled his hand away, his lips curving into a slow, teasing smile.

“Uh-uh,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he kissed your neck again. “You’re gonna have to work for it, sweetheart.”

You groaned softly in frustration, but instead of protesting, you did exactly that. Your hands gripped his shoulders for balance as you started to rock your hips against his thigh, faster, more desperate this time. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure washing over you, and Sidney could feel the way your breath hitched with each grind of your hips. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your head tipping back as you let out a soft, breathless moan.

Sidney’s grip tightened on your hips, guiding you, helping you chase that high you were so desperate for. He was losing control, too—his breathing ragged, his skin flushed, and every moan that escaped your lips was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel so good,” Sidney muttered, his voice rough as he kissed your neck again, his hands sliding down to your ass, squeezing gently as he guided your movements. “So fucking good.”

You whimpered softly, your body trembling as you ground against him harder, faster. Sidney groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly, pulling you down harder against his thigh, feeling the heat of you through the thin fabric of your shorts. He was so close to losing it, so close to just taking you right here in the front seat of his car.

But then you moved your hand between your legs, pressing your fingers against the slick fabric of your shorts, and Sidney’s breath caught in his throat. You were so needy, so desperate for him, and he could feel it in every strained sound you made, every trembling movement of your body.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he watched you, his heart pounding in his chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you touched yourself, your fingers moving in slow circles over your soaked shorts. Sidney groaned, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer as he kissed you again, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

He should stop you—he knew that. He should tell you that this was wrong, that someone could walk by at any moment and see what you were doing. But you didn’t care, so why should he?

Sidney’s hands slipped beneath your shirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back as he kissed you harder, deeper. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, the way you trembled beneath his touch, and it was driving him insane.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” Sidney muttered against your lips, his voice thick with desire as he kissed you again, his hands wandering beneath your clothes.

You let out a soft laugh, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “Who gives a shit?”

Sidney chuckled, his breath hitching as you ground against him again, harder this time. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he pulled you down against him, feeling the heat of you through your shorts. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You smiled, your lips curving into a teasing smirk as you kissed him again, slow and lazy, your fingers tangled in his hair. “You love it,” you whispered, your breath hot against his lips.

Sidney groaned softly, his hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing gently as he pulled you closer. “Yeah, I fucking do,” he muttered, his lips brushing against yours.

The air inside the car was growing thick with heat and tension, and Sidney could barely think straight. The windows were starting to fog up, the outside world slowly disappearing from view as if the two of you were in your own little bubble. Each kiss was deeper, messier, and more desperate than the last, your breath mingling with his as your lips moved together in a rhythm that neither of you wanted to break.

Sidney’s hands were everywhere—on your hips, your thighs, slipping beneath your shirt, exploring every inch of your body. He could feel how soaked you were through your shorts, how your body trembled with need, and it was driving him wild. You were grinding against his thigh, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your little moans making it almost impossible for him to hold back.

The tension between you was unbearable, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, ready to snap at any second. Sidney knew that if you stayed like this any longer, he was going to lose control completely. And the thought of taking it further—of giving you exactly what you wanted—was tempting, so damn tempting. But there were people just a few feet away. One wrong move, one sound, and the entire night would unravel. As much as Sidney wanted you, as much as he ached to take things to the next level, he couldn’t risk it.

You were breathless, your body trembling as you rocked against him, your fingers still pressing between your legs, and Sidney’s mind was a blur of need. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the pulse of desire thrumming through his veins, but he couldn’t help the small voice in the back of his head reminding him of the reality of the situation. If you two didn’t stop now, someone would notice.

The windows were fogging up more and more, a telltale sign of what was happening inside the car, and Sidney knew it was only a matter of time before someone got suspicious. You must have sensed it too because your movements slowed, your breath coming in soft, shallow gasps as you kissed him again, a little slower this time, but just as needy.

Sidney muttered against your lips, his voice rough as he broke the kiss for a second, his forehead pressed against yours. “We’re gonna get caught.”

You didn’t seem to care, your lips moving to his neck, kissing and nipping at his skin as you ground against his thigh one last time. “I don’t give a shit,” you whispered, your voice hushed, but full of need, your breath hot against his skin.

Sidney groaned, his hands tightening on your hips as he tried to hold back, tried to be the voice of reason, but you were making it so damn hard. “I know, but—fuck, we need to stop. Just for now,” he whispered, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

Reluctantly, you pulled back, your lips leaving his neck, your eyes heavy with lust as you met his gaze. Your body was still pressed against his, and the heat between you was almost unbearable. Sidney swallowed hard, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to regain some semblance of control.

But you didn’t make it easy for him.

With a slow, deliberate movement, you pulled your fingers from between your legs, slipping your hand out from beneath your shorts, your fingers glistening in the low light. Sidney’s eyes darkened as he watched you, his breath catching in his throat as you brought your fingers to your lips, giving him a taste of yourself with a slow, teasing lick.

His head fell back against the seat, a low, desperate groan escaping his lips as he watched you, his skin buzzing with the need to pull you back into him, to kiss you until you were both out of breath again. But you were already shifting off his lap, your body moving away from him, leaving a trail of heat in your wake as you settled back into the passenger seat.

“This isn’t over,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry as you leaned in one last time, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Next time, you’re gonna give me what I fucking want.”

Sidney’s chest tightened at your words, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched you, his mind already racing with the possibilities of what next time might bring. “You think I won’t?” he murmured, his voice deep and full of promise. “You have no idea.”

Your eyes flickered with amusement, a teasing smile on your lips as you leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “I’m counting on it.”

Sidney let out a low, rumbling laugh, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, trying to cool down. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but there was no mistaking the anticipation in his voice, the thrill of knowing that this wasn’t over—that next time, you would both cross the line you were dancing so dangerously close to tonight.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment longer, the tension still heavy between you, but there was an unspoken agreement now. You couldn’t push it further, not here, not tonight. But Sidney was already counting down the minutes until the next time he could get you alone, until the next time he could finally give you everything you wanted—everything you both wanted.

You slipped out of the car, your body moving with an easy grace that had Sidney’s eyes following your every movement. You glanced back at him one last time, a knowing smile on your lips before you turned and disappeared into the house.

Sidney watched you go, his mind still reeling from everything that had just happened. His skin was buzzing, his heart racing, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you felt against him, the way you tasted, the way you sounded when you said his name.

He leaned back in the driver’s seat, letting out a shaky breath as he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against the fogged-up window. He was already imagining the next time, the way he would pull you close, the way he’d kiss you until neither of you could think straight, and this time, he wouldn’t hold back.

Next time, you were going to get exactly what you wanted.

And Sidney couldn’t fucking wait.