#just really wish i could get rid of my organs

[dooblez]

i’m tired

[breitzbachbea]

Fruk for the ship bingo?

Taking a break from reading Assmann to do this, thank you for asking!

Ship Opinion Bingo

I used to be so obsessed with them when I first joined the fandom. I basically roll dice whenever I see two characters being spicy enemies and there are two outcomes - they should fuck and marry about it or they should genuinely hate the each other more than plague. (Okay, often there is a middle ground of 'they should never date but they should fuck about their dislike.') FrUK is definitely the first one for me.

I also should have checked 'They're fucking the same guy', which I believe to be very true for the Hetaverse. However, I find England so supremely unsexy and unshipable that FrUK is really the only England ship I actively ship. Sorry Arthur </3.

I think they can't get away from each other, because despite all of their differences, they're so intrinsically tied to each other. It's the same pride they share at their core, they both operate with the same framework. Sure, the rules seem different, but there are rules. They both love to put on masks and hide behind ritual and make-belief, which also means they are the best to navigate through the other's mirage. They love each other at their worst and at their best, and what qualifies as such also depends on the situation. Awe of the strength of an Empire, something that from a modern framework they can look back and shudder at, still incites some of that violent excitement. Similiarly, it's nice to get scars from tending to roses and not to battlefields, so they appreciate the calmer and peaceful life they can live together now.

[wstviewvidal]

pas de deux- w. maximoff

summary: who knew a four year old could be your wingman

pairing: rich!wanda x r

a/n: hi beautiful ppl! second part of dc is here! i have nothing to say except we love valerie

dirty cash masterlist

minors do not interact

it’s been two weeks since the word spill incident— as your friend likes to call it. two weeks since wanda maximoff has occupied your mind like an uninvited guest you can’t get rid of. two weeks of face-palming yourself after replaying the conversation you two had at the bar.

your friend definitely hasn’t let you live it down either. you two were on a call a few days ago where she decided it was the perfect time to remind you that you were an idiot and how you practically told wanda that her organization was terrible and didn’t serve a true purpose— and she was right.

part of you wishes you could find a way to reach out to her to apologize and make amends, but the other part of you feels she’s already forgotten about you and your foolish remarks. maybe that was the truth— maybe wanda had already forgotten about you.

you shake off the overwhelming thoughts and take in a deep breath before you exit your car with the bouquet of pink flowers from the passenger seat. tonight wasn’t about you or your overthinking— it was about your niece. valerie had been begging you to come to her ballet recital for weeks, and how could you say no to the curly haired girl with big brown eyes and an overly convincing pout?

so, here you were for the little girl with a bouquet just about the same size as her.

you weren’t much of a ballet or theater kid growing up, but your niece had a true love for the stage— the dramatics of it all and who were you to not support her? her enthusiasm for the art had been unexpected, but you couldn’t help but admire her for it.

your niece is the light of your life and you often find yourself always agreeing to whatever she asks. she has you wrapped around her tiny finger, not that you mind.

the auditorium is buzzing with chatter and excitement as you get in line alongside parents to enter the theater. you glance around and smile softly while holding the flowers close— this isn’t your crowd, but the reminder that it’s for your niece is what pushes you through.

while the line inches forward, you put your phone on do not disturb. heels click behind you as you replay the last time you came to her performance. you don’t pay mind to the sound that’s getting closer until you feel a soft tap on your left shoulder.

you turn around and low and behold is the woman who’s lived in your mind for the past two weeks, wanda.

your eyes widen just the slightest bit and wanda grins at your surprised expression. “and here i was thinking i’d never see you again,” she says, light laughter filling the air between you two.

you blush almost instantly and smile widely at her, “wanda! hi, how are you? what are you doing here?”

wanda subtly looks you over, admiring your casually put together outfit, “i’m better now that i’m seeing you,” you try to hide an even deeper blush, “this is one of the schools that my company sponsors— we help out with the after school programs. i wanted to come out and see the recital.”

wanda speaks with pride, something you’ve grown to admire about her—her genuine love for what she does. maybe you were wrong in doubting her and her company.

wanda looks down to the flowers in your hands and tilts her head in curiosity, “do you always carry around bouquets this big or is there someone special here tonight?”

“my niece is performing, i promised her i’d be here. she’s the only one who can boss me around and get away with it.” you gesture to the pink flowers in your hand and laugh a bit.

nodding along with a warm grin, she admires the flowers, “that’s really sweet. not everyone gets an adult like that in their lives.”

nodding to her statement as the line moves forward into the seating area and you turn to wanda, “you could sit with me if you’d like.”

you try to extend an olive branch to the businesswoman, the soft look in your eyes is making it impossible for wanda to say no.

“if that’s alright with you,” she follows alongside you to a seat in the middle of the auditorium.

what wanda didn’t tell you is that she normally has a specific reserved spot during these events in case she has to leave earlier than expected.

but sitting with you seems much nicer.

as the house lights begin to dim, wanda leans over and gestures to the flowers. “here, let me hold them and i’ll hand them back when you need them.”

you smile gratefully and hand them over to wanda with a soft thank you.

the classical track plays on the speakers and you can see the small children with their tutus filing in stage. your niece isn’t hard to spot, fourth from the right. you beam with pride as she spots you in the audience after scanning up and down for her aunt. wanda gazes at you with a flicker of admiration as you clap and cheer for the little girl who is dancing.

“there she is. that one’s mine, valerie,” you point to the small brunette with the slightly crooked bun and impossibly large grin plastered on her face.

she follows your direction, then turning back to you. wanda’s gaze lingers— not on your niece, but on you. there’s something in the way you light up when you watch the little girl that catches wanda off guard.

“beautiful.” she murmurs, so low you barely catch what she says.

perhaps wanda was foolish to think that of you already. maybe this is the reason she always finds herself in relationships with people who never truly see her for who she is— just what she can bring to the table.

or maybe it’s the way you treat wanda like a person worth getting to know that has her gravitating towards you. the way you lit up for your niece caught wanda off guard. she couldn’t remember the last time her heart rate sped up that fast at the sight of someone’s smile.

as the show comes to a close, the small children bow and wave to their respective adults. you turn to wanda with a laugh, “those kids are so much more entertaining than an actual professional dancers.”

wanda nods along with a chuckle, standing up with the bouquet, “oh, i absolutely agree. should we go find her?”

you nod and stand up after wanda, “yes please,” you tilt your head with a subtle teasing grin at wanda, “would you like to meet her?”

wanda’s heart beats a bit faster and she finds herself agreeing before she can even consider saying no. the softness in your voice and the way you tilt your head makes it hard to decline. so you two stand in the foyer as she holds the flowers while you scan for your niece.

the little girl comes out with a grin that almost covers her whole face, “auntie!” the little girl jumps into your arms and hugs you.

wanda observes the scene in front of her with loving eyes, the scene rich. she’s holding the flowers with a firm grip, like someone would come by and snatch them from her. why is she nervous to meet a four year old?

she has no idea, but she does know that her heart is racing.

maybe she’s already found herself in too deep way too early.

the little girl turns to wanda with a shy expression, giving a nervous wave as you introduce wanda to her.

“this is wanda,” you gesture to the taller woman next to you, “she’s our friend.”

wanda crouches down to your niece’s height with a friendly smile, “hi miss valerie,” she says softly, “you did amazing! you were the true star of the show.”

that won your niece over. she giggles and begins blabbering to wanda about how much she practiced and enjoyed getting ready. wanda is actively listening and conversing with the small girl, giving her complete attention to the tiny ballerina. it surprises you how easily the two have fallen into a comfortable conversation.

wanda’s eyes meet yours for the briefest of moments and you two smile warmly. there’s something unspoken there— something warm and genuine that lingers between the two of you.

your niece grabs wanda’s hand, “are you coming with us to dinner?” her big brown eyes looking up at wanda with a small pleading expression.

wanda hesitates for a second and looks over to you with a nervous look, while you laugh at the scene in front of you. “i told you she’s hard to say no to.”

the three of you arrive to a italian restaurant and wanda holds the door open for you two, her hand on the small of your back as she ushers you two inside while you hold the tiny girl’s hand. you’re sat in a booth, wanda across from the two of you who is enjoying talking to your niece about her favorite class and four year old drama.

“she’s normally a super shy kid,” you whisper to wanda in awe as the little girl is momentarily distracted with a breadstick.

wanda watches the little girl with a warm look in her eye then turns to you, “she’s like her aunt, hard to resist.”

you chuckle and playfully roll your eyes, turning back to the little girl to fix the small curls that have popped out of her bun. the warmth in wanda’s words make your heart flutter.

you three eat over a family style italian meal and when the waitress comes back to ask if you’d like dessert, you go to say no— but wanda turns to valerie with a sneaky grin.

“val, you want some cake?” wanda has a playful smirk. valerie’s eyes light up and she nods enthusiastically, the fallen out curls moving with her.

you turn to wanda with mock seriousness, “wanda, you’re spoiling her.”

immediately and with an almost flirtatious tone, wanda quips, “only fair if i spoil you too, don’t you think?”

that stumps you. you blush slightly and try to play it off by looking elsewhere, but the teasing smirk on wanda’s face tells you that she noticed the flush.

after dessert, your niece falls asleep on your lap while you converse with wanda.

“she really likes you,” you say to wanda quietly as you look down to the brown haired girl in your lap, “i’m surprised she warmed up to you so quickly.”

a blush forms on wanda’s face, ever so faint that you almost miss it— almost.

“and her aunt? what about her?”

wanda’s low questioning tone brings a heat up to your cheeks that you so desperately wish wanda can’t see. the question catches you off guard, but you force yourself to meet wanda’s gaze, “maybe,” you say with a smirk, but your voice came out much softer thank intended.

there’s something in the way the two of you look at each other— something beyond whatever it is you two thought you had.

the waitress comes back with the check and you reach to your purse for your wallet, but wanda beats you to it and hands the check back to the waitress before you can even protest.

you look at wanda and speak with an exasperated sigh, “why did you pay? i was going to.” you partly feel guilty that wanda paid when it felt that you were the one who dragged her along.

wanda shrugs with nonchalance as she starts cleaning the table, “why not? you deserve a night out and so does the baby.”

wanda’s nonchalance and the way she’s taking charge surprises you, but you’re not hating it. there’s something comforting in the way she’s taking care of the two of you.

you still feel partly guilty and begin to help wanda pick up the table, “is there anything i can do to pay you back? i feel bad that we dragged you out with us, i’m sure you had other plans.”

wanda laughs and waves her hand dismissively, “you didn’t drag me, i chose to come with. and as for paying me back..”

wanda has a look in her eyes that only spells trouble and it makes you nervous, “my company is having a dinner next month. would you like to be my plus one?”

you’re caught off guard but just as you go to respond, the waitress comes back with the receipt.

“your daughter is the cutest thing, you two must be so proud. have a great night!” the waitress picks up the plates and moves on before you can ever correct her.

you look over at wanda and laugh a little bit, “sorry.” you pick up the sleeping girl in your arms and the two of you walk out to your respective cars.

wanda walks you to your car with a light hand behind your back, making sure you carry valerie safely as she checks the road for cars. the streetlights cast a soft glow over the parking lot, wanda’s protective instincts surprising you in the best way.

just as you two stop in front of your car, your niece wakes up and realizes it’s time to go.

“is auntie wanda leaving us now?” her tiny voice laced with tiredness as she reaches for wanda.

wanda is caught off guard with valerie’s words but works quickly to grab the little girl whose tiny hands are grabbing for her, “yeah, honey, i’m taking off. maybe if your auntie is sweet enough, we can go out to eat again.”

wanda takes a peek at you from behind valerie’s head with a playful pout. you nod softly to her silent request to see each other again. you admire the scene in front of you, the way wanda’s rocking the little girl in her arms and gazing at the four year old with pure joy.

wanda works quickly to get valerie in her car seat that is in the backseat of your car before she wakes up again.

she turns to you with a new look in her eyes, something comforting and touching. “she’s the sweetest thing, you know that? a lot like you.”

you giggle and roll your eyes, “whatever you say, wanda.”

you lean on your car and eye wanda as she pulls out her phone from her back pocket, “i meant what i said in there,” she gestures back to the restaurant, “i want you to come to the dinner with me. i promise it won’t be like the last time.”

at the mention of the past event, you groan as you put your phone number into her phone, “stop bringing it up.”

wanda laughs, a sound you are growing to love. “seriously though. i want you there with me.”

the way she says it, the way she looks at you with soft eyes, it all makes you giddy inside.

“i’ll see you,” wanda says as she puts her phone back into her pocket, giving you a warm smile before she turns back to begin walking to her car.

you watch wanda leave to her car from inside your own with a grin. just before you take off, you can hear your little girl from the back, “auntie, your girlfriend is really nice. i like her.”

you roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. you mentally thank valerie for convincing wanda to come to dinner with you two.

“she’s not my girlfriend, val,” you laugh at your niece’s assumption that you and wanda were dating.

she lets out a soft yawn and holds one of her stuffed animals close to her chest as she sits in your backseat, “but she could be.”

looking in your rear view mirror at your niece, you can’t help but be surprised at her words. how could a four year old possibly know about this stuff? you fight the urge to press your niece further about her knowledge, but decide against it.

arriving home, you carefully pull your niece out of her car seat and take her to your bed to sleep until her parents pick her up later. you press a small kiss to her forehead and let out a soft sigh at the memory of the conversation in the car.

staring at wanda’s contact as you sit on the couch, you can’t help but replay the day’s events over and over. the way she was gentle with valerie, the way she looked at you and took care of the both of you, and the small bashful smile she had when she asked you to be her plus one.

you type and erase several different messages until you decide on a fairly simple one to send to wanda.

thank you for tonight. valerie really likes you

you hit send and place your phone down before you choose to not send anything at all.

not even a whole minute passes before your phone buzzes with a new message.

she’s adorable.. just like her aunt

you bite your lip to keep from smiling like a fool at her text. her reply is short, but you can already hear her voice as if she was saying it out loud. she sends another text before you get the chance to type something out.

seriously, though. thank you for allowing me to tag along. i loved it. i really hope you’ll think about being my plus one next month

you mentally envision yourself with wanda, your stomach doing flips at the thought of you being by her all night. her gentle demeanor and hand guiding you through the night makes you smile foolishly.

i’ll think about it, i promise. goodnight, wanda

you type out the response and hit send quickly before you get the chance to talk yourself out of it.

goodnight, you

maybe your niece was onto something.

[elllisaaa]

Update! I’m back a legal adult now, as of yesterday as promised.😖🤞🏽 I missed you everyday babes😫🫶🏽, so I have a birthday request, how about Bangchan birthday sex?😵‍💫🤞🏽‼️

hiii lovely ! ngl i missed seeing you on my notifications too 😖 wishing you a big happy birthday even if i'm little late and i hope this will be enough of a present ! enjoy reading !

BIRTHDAY GIRL - BANGCHAN

-> pairing : softdom!chan x sub!reader

-> words count : 1.1k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : teasing, dirty talk, praising, body worship, use of 'good girl', oral (f. receiving), fingering

+ the way i'm depicting chan does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> masterlist | skz masterlist

Your birthday has never been too important to you. Sure you had little parties with your closest friends and family members, but not too much. But for Chan, it was way more than any other day of the year. He wanted to surprise you, to remind you how loved you were and how proud of you he was. So everytime he had a day off, he spent it planning this and organizing everything so that your friends and family could be there. 

And all these sleepless nights trying to make everything perfect were definitely worth it when Chan saw the tears of joy in your eyes, and the biggest smile he had ever seen stretching out your lips. As he watched you laugh and be happy the whole night, talking with everyone he had invited, he couldn’t wait for the moment he’ll have you all for himself, couldn’t wait for the moment he’ll take care of his birthday girl. 

When you closed the door of your shared apartment after your best friend finally left, you couldn’t help another smile from blossoming on your face. Chan was often away or busy with his work, but everytime he did things like this, you were remembered of how much he loved you, of how much he cared for you. You decided to leave the mess of the living room and the kitchen for tomorrow morning, walking to your bedroom to finally rest and have some time alone with your boyfriend. 

“- Baby ? Where are you ?”

You frowned while searching for him in the empty room but not seeing him anywhere. However, you noticed a neat, black box displayed on the sheets of your bed. You approached it slowly, untying the white bow that was holding it together, and opening it to discover a beautiful lingerie set. It was in your favorite color, in the perfect shape to compliment every one of your curves. 

“- Do you like it ?”

You turned around when hearing Chan’s voice, seeing him wearing only a pair of shorts and leaning against the doorframe. 

“- If I like it ? Channie, it’s beautiful ! But it looks so expensive…”

Chan approached you, leaning down so that he could kiss your lips, hands coming down to hold your waist. 

“- You know it doesn’t matter to me, I just want to spoil you baby.

- You really are too good for me…”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down so that you could kiss him back, softly at first, sweetly. But Chan had been holding back the whole night from letting his eyes wander all over your body, and now that he had you all for himself, he needed to feel you. Quickly the kiss got more and more heated, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to find their spot on your ass, and yours coming up to play with the strand of his hair, tongues dancing along with each other. 

“- You look amazing, couldn’t stop watching you all night.

- Yeah ? I wore that dress for you, know that you like it a lot. 

- Fuck… Yes, I do. But I want to get a look of what’s underneath, will you let me ?”

You only kissed him as an answer, sweeping the lingerie box away from the sheets and getting him down on top of you. Neither one of you was in a rush, wanting to savor the taste of your skins. Chan slowly got you rid of your little black dress that has been driving him crazy, kissing every inch of your body up and down, caressing the delicate skin with a feather-like touch. You surely did some more dirtiest things before, but to have your boyfriend worship you wasn’t too bad either. The slightest touch had you shivering and moaning quietly. Chan lazily marked your skin from your neck, to your breast that he spent a lot of time sucking and massaging, and finally down to face your now dripping cunt. 

“- You’re so wet baby, want me that much ?”

The pout forming on your face had Chan giggling but he listened to your unspoken request, diving in your cunt and practically making out with it. He knew you loved it, and he loved it just as much, loved feeling your hands pulling on his hair when the pleasure was too much, loved having to hold you down so you stopped squirming away, loved hearing your broken moans for more. 

“- Channie, feels so good…”

You could feel the proud grin on his lips as he sucked on your clit harder, one of his fingers entering as a reward for voicing your emotions. And also because he loved to be praised, loved to have you put into words how good he was making you feel. His tongue lapping at your juices paired with the now two fingers pumping in and out of you had you close to your orgasm already. 

“- I’m so close Channie, can I cum please ?”

Your eyes were watery, feeling on the verge of crying as the pleasure was building up quickly, heating up your whole body. Chan detached himself from your pussy, his chin and lips covered in your slick, his gaze soft despite the smirk on his face when he looked back at you. 

“- Such a good girl asking for permission… Go on baby, cum on my fingers.”

This was all you needed to let go, the knot in your stomach snapping, covering his hand in your release. The sight of your fucked out face and your loud moans resonating in the bedroom were enough for Chan’s cock to leak precum, and for making him crave more of you. But tonight was all about you, tonight was all about what you wanted and needed, tonight was all about satisfying you. Chan knew he was not always here when you needed him due to his packed schedule, but he intended on changing that right now by spoiling you and making it up for all the times he came home late and left you hanging on your own fingers and toys to cum. 

And the smile on his face was telling you just that as he came up to your face, kissing you hungrily as his hands roamed all around your body once again. Chan was convinced that he would never get enough of you, of your taste, of your lips, of your hands on him. But for now, it was his responsibility to satisfy you, not yours. So he pinned your hands to the mattress, watching you restrain the little whimpers that were about to slip past your lips. 

“- Tonight is all about you baby, let me make you feel good all night and relax, okay ?”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

skz taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@minnies-babie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls @caitlyn98s @sharonxdevi @skz1-4-3 @bbgnyx @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @iraisswiftie @puppy-minnie

[0nerd-at-heart0]

The Case Continues

A/N: Thank you for ALL the love and support on my latest fic!!!! ♥ After not writing for a year it felt weird to write again but y'all have been so sweet, so truly thank you to all of you. I just finished 2 of midterms and there was this guy behind me on one of my tests coughing like crazy so now I am sick. While I should take this opportunity to study for the LSATS now that I am stuck in bed, I just had to continue writing. As long as you all continue reading I am more than happy to continue writing. If you want to be added or taken out of the taglist please DM me :) 

P.S. : I used the stars to break down the sections for myself as I wrote and kept them in, if they are weird or unhelpful let me know so I can get rid of them and as always feedback is always welcomed

Taglist: @happy74827 @princessvader15 @hashcakes @malfoys-demigod @yiiiikesmish

Word Count: 5.5 k

Warnings: sexual harassment, cursing, pet name like sweetheart, mentions of food and eating (any more warnings that I missed please let me know)

There will be a part 3 after this one, still writing it but if you haven’t please check out the Part 1:  The Stress of a Case

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ

As you finished the last bite of your meal in Rachel’s office, a comfortable silence settled between you and Harvey.  Harvey leaned back in his chair, and a sense of relief seemed to wash over his face, "You did well today, Y/N. We'll get through the Jackson case. I promise. Whatever it takes.”

You offered a small, appreciative smile, acknowledging the sentiment. "Thanks, Harvey. It means a lot."

You stared at the clock and the realization that it was time to head home crept in. Harvey, ever the gentleman, offered you a ride, “Come on, I’ll take you home.” He stood up moving the desk back to how he found it and picked up the trash. 

However, your need for control and familiarity after the recent panic attack made you decline the ride, "Thanks for the offer, Harvey, but I think I'll take my own car tonight."

A small, almost imperceptible frown flashed across Harvey's face, quickly replaced by his usual composed expression. "Alright." was all he could stammer out. 

After parting ways, you walked towards the parking lot, keys in hand. As you drove home alone, a subtle sense of curiosity lingered. What if you had accepted Harvey's offer? What could have unfolded in the confined space of his car, free from the walls of the office? 

The thought nagged at you as you navigated the familiar streets, feeling your head cooling off. Rolling down the window to allow the fresh air to overflow your senses  There was a part of you that wished you knew the answer, a desire to unravel the mysteries that lay hidden beneath the surface of your professional relationship with the Harvey Specter.

The next few days went by pretty fast. All days felt the same . It was a routine of restless nights as your mind was clear yet foggy on your night with Harvey. Nervous yet excited on what the following days would bring. You woke up early every day to go to your favorite coffee spot. But every day you spent it at your desk going through Amir related emails and one day you spent the day researching organic cat food for Louis. You haven't even had the chance to really see or talk to Harvey, not that you were keeping track ( 3 times he has spoken to you). 

But about 10 days after the incident, here you were, standing in the elevator, expecting to be another calm day of going through Amir’s associates emails with Rachel.

But when the elevators dinged,  the beautiful face of  Donna Paulsen appeared as the door opened.  She stood there waiting for you and without saying a word she turned on her heel and gestured for you to follow her. And like a loyal puppy you followed Donna through the corridors, her signature click-clacking heels echoing in the hallways as you tried to keep you.

As you walked, Donna’s voice boomed,  efficiently providing a rundown of the latest developments in the Amir Jackson case. Apparently, Amir had signed a contract with his brother-in-law’s firm, and Harvey was currently breaking it down in his office to find any potential weaknesses or loopholes. You were confused but eager to understand your role in all this, so you did your best to keep up with Donna's brisk pace. The details of the case were important, but the question of why Donna was sharing them with you lingered in the back of your mind.

Donna approached Harvey's office, she shot you a sly smile and motioned for you to enter. The door creaked open, revealing Harvey Specter engrossed in his work. Donna whispered, "You wanted to be in the big leagues; well, here you go."

Harvey was seated at his desk, a stack of papers spread out before him. Mike Ross was leaning against the wall, and both turned their attention to you as you entered.

Donna, standing in the doorway, mouthed, "You got this."

It dawned on you—this wasn't just an update on the case. Donna had orchestrated this moment for a reason. You were being given a seat at the table, an opportunity to contribute to a high-stakes strategy session. The realization sent a surge of adrenaline through your veins. Harvey was keeping his word after all. 

 Harvey and Mike acknowledged your presence, you straightened your posture and mentally prepared to engage in the battle of wits that lay ahead.  You are ready to keep up and prove your worth beyond your typing skills. 

Mike walks up to you handing you a file, and you take a seat. Knowing the breakdown you take out your colorful pack of highlighter ready to color coordinate. Purple for potential loopholes, yellow for things to research, blue for important dates and green for  contacts. 

Harvey couldn't help but notice you being meticulously organized. With a smirk, he quipped, "Really, Y/N? Color-coordinated highlighters? Are we in kindergarten?"

You, shot back with a playful smile, "Well, Harvey, some of us appreciate a little order and aesthetic appeal. It's called professionalism."

Harvey raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the quick retort. "Professionalism, huh? I prefer the classic black and white approach. Simple and effective."

You without looking up from your file said, "Well, Harvey, sometimes a splash of color can make things more interesting. Maybe you should try it sometime.” Reaching down to your highlighter bag you pulled one out handing it to him, “Here, I think pink suits you”

He takes it from your hand, not backing down, “You know if your legal skills were as efficient as your highlighting skills we would be done with these files already”

You retorted, “Well, Harvey, if your people skills were as smooth as your hair, we'd have won the case yesterday."

Mike, who had been silently working, looked up with a bewildered expression, unsure of how the banter had suddenly transformed into a flirtatious exchange. He blinked, processing the unexpected turn of events.

Harvey  leaned against the table and raised an eyebrow. "Smooth hair, huh? You're just jealous, Y/N."

"Oh, please," you replied with a smirk, "I've seen smoother hair on a mannequin."

Mike, now thoroughly confused, looked between Harvey and you, trying to decipher when this banter became a new development. 

Before anything can go any further there is a knock at Harvey’s door, it was Rachel. After hearing from Mike about your little fainting incident, she was kind of overbearingly persistent on making sure you were eating and were okay no matter how much you told her you were fine.  Despite your reassurances that the incident of passing out was a one-time occurrence and that you were doing better, Rachel continued to express her care in thoughtful ways.

Today was no exception. Rachel asked to borrow you for a moment. Excusing yourself from your work, you followed Rachel outside the office. She had a warm smile on her face and a bagel in her hand, with your name on it.

"Hey, I know you said you're doing better, but I thought you might need a little pick-me-up," Rachel said, offering you the bagel.

You couldn't help but smile at Rachel's thoughtful gesture. "Thanks, Rachel. You really don't have to keep doing this, but I appreciate it."

Rachel chuckled, "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Consider it my way of making sure you stay fueled and ready to tackle anything."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

While you were outside having that conversation with Rachel, Mike couldn't help but seize the opportunity for a little teasing. Looking at Harvey with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he remarked, "What was that?"

Harvey, ever the master of composure, shot Mike a sharp look. "Shut up and focus, Mike," he retorted, trying to divert attention back to the files.

Mike, undeterred by Harvey's attempt to change the subject, leaned back with a playful grin. "Oh, you're definitely focused on something," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harvey rolled his eyes, realizing that he might have just opened himself up to a barrage of teasing from Mike. 

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You returned to the office with the bagel in hand, you tucked it away in your bag without giving it much thought. However, Harvey's raised eyebrow didn't go unnoticed. He questioned, "Aren't you going to eat that?"

Unbeknownst to you, the hesitation stemmed from a lingering unease about eating near files, especially in front of Harvey—thanks to the hot Cheeto incident. Harvey, catching on to your reluctance, decided to assertively intervene, "Eat."

You raised an eyebrow, teasing, "Bossy much, Harvey?"

Harvey quickly adds, “Well I am the boss”.

Mike, always quick to jump into the banter, chimed in, "Hey, wait a minute. Rachel didn't get me a bagel."

Harvey, in his usual deadpan manner, responded, "Deal with your relationship drama outside the office”

Mike mumbled to himself though directed at Harvey “you deal with your relationship drama outside the office” as he turned over to the next file. 

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Without hesitation you grabbed another file, opening it  up you saw on one of the clauses of the contract that it said,  “Keep an appropriate reputation”.

You spoke up, “Have we been able to contact his brother in law?”

“Louis is currently on that”, Harvey said nonchalantly.  

“Louis?!?!”, the shock in your voice was not hidden at all as your hand went to cover you mouth,

“See even she is shocked’’, Mike gestured towards you as he closed his file. 

“Mike you are  going to have a deposition with Amir in about an hour and I got to prep you. As much as I'd rather have you do it,” Harvey eyes quickly glance at you before returning to the file in his hand, “I don’t have time to walk you through it, plus Jessica said I have to throw Louis a bone”, Harvey mumbles the last bit. 

You nodded, understanding that you were too green to already start interviewing people without supervision. 

After an hour of underlining and highlighting things they may be able to use against him, Harvey dismissed you and Mike to prepare for meeting Amir. You gave Mike a questioning look as you exited the office.

The door closed and you could have sworn you heard music playing. 

“He has a whole routine when he has a stressful case”, Mike said as he handed Donna a piece of paper to fax. 

“Whoa, you are just going to share Harvey’s secrets like that”, Donna added. 

“She is part of the group now, she deserves, nay she needs to know”, Mike defensively argued

Donna playfully rolled her eyes and all you can do is laugh. 

“Imma go to the conference room and set everything up”, Mike then turned on his heels. 

“Why are you meeting with Amir?”, you couldn't help the question come out of your mouth.

“Jessica and Harvey believe he is trying to get in our heads”, Mike causally stated like this is somehow normal, “anyway see you afterwards”. 

You headed down to the bullpen with a couple of files in hand for you to review. The bullpen was empty, you saw a memo on your desk that Jessica was holding a mock trial for the associates. You believed she was doing this to boost morale. It's been 3 weeks since the Jackson case was first assigned and every day the stress of the case becomes more evident in not only the partners but everyone. 

ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

All that can be heard was the click-clack of your keyboard as you diligently worked on a memo at your cubicle in. A man walked it, he didn't go unnoticed as he leaned against the wall, a smirk playing on his face.

"Working hard or hardly working, sweetheart?" he said with a smug grin.

Startled by his words, you looked up to fully take in this strange man, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. 

"What can I do for you?", you let out an annoyed breath. 

He wasn't unattractive, tall, seemed to be built, his dark hair slicked back and his tan figure was highlighted with a beautifully tailored suit. 

He ignored your attempt to deflect his trashy pickup line  as he leaned in, invading your  personal space. "You know, I am here to see Mike Ross, but I would rather be seeing you. What do you say we grab a drink sometime?"

You noticed a wedding ring on his hand and that added to your discomfort which was palpable, and  you glanced around, searching for a way out of the situation. Amir Jackson was standing right before you in all his dirty lawyer glory. Before you could respond, the familiar sound of a door swinging opening  caught your attention. Harvey Specter stormed into view, his expression colder than the usual glacial demeanor he reserved. 

"Amir, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Harvey's tone was razor-sharp, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation.

Amir straightened up, his confident facade faltering in the face of Harvey's iciness. "Just trying to get to know the beautiful talent that sits before me" he replied, attempting to play it off.

Harvey's jaw clenched, and he stepped forward, his presence dominating the small cubicle. "This is not the time or the place for your personal agenda. We're here to work, not to entertain your attempts at charm.", emphasis on the word attempt. 

Amir chuckled nervously, realizing he had crossed a line. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble, Harvey. Just thought we could all use a break."

Harvey's stare could freeze time itself. "Save your charm for the courtroom, Amir. Now get lost before I decide to make this a legal matter."

Amir hastily retreated, leaving the cubicle, heading upstairs to interview Mike. 

As soon as he was out of earshot, Harvey's gaze softened ever so slightly as he turned to you. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, grateful for Harvey's intervention. "Thanks, Harvey. I didn't know how to get rid of him.” You left a pause before continuing, “Though he was cute”, it was your attempt to lightened the mood

But it seemed that you failed as you could have sworn that Harvey’s eyes darkened. 

“Don't tell me he is your type?” Harvey glares, trying to play it off as a playful intrigue. Though behind those words were sharp undertones of jealousy. 

Was your type arrogant lawyers? Oh god, you thought to yourself. 

“I mean if we are being honest”, you were already regretting the words coming of of your mouth, “I wouldn’t mind drinks with him, if you know he wasn't-”

“A dirty slimeball”, Harvey interrupted.

“I was going to say married but hey your  words not mine”, You shrugged as you smiled, tilting your head up to look at him. 

Like a switch any sign of a normal human being verison of Harvey goes back to a cold exterior Harvey ", Get back to work. We have a case to win."

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the silence. Louis Litt barged into the bullpen, a triumphant expression on his face. "I got it, I got it!" he declared, his voice echoing through the walls.

Harvey shot him a stern look. "What do you mean, Louis?"

Louis beamed, brimming with excitement. "I met with Amir’s brother in law and we have a plan"

"Louis, I don't like that look on your face. Well, actually, I don't like your face, period," Harvey retorted, his patience wearing thin but shot you a mischievous  look as you let out a small laugh. 

Just as Louis was about to unveil his plan, you received a text from Rachel, asking for assistance upstairs. Seizing the opportunity to excuse yourself , you made a quick exit, leaving Harvey to deal with Louis's eager revelation.

As you walked away, you overheard Louis saying, "Can I just tell you my plan?"

You missed Harvey's response that carried a tone of indifference, "Louis, I am a lawyer, not your babysitter. You don't need to run your ideas by me. Just do whatever it takes to win."

"Whatever it takes," Louis echoed, his enthusiasm undeterred as he practically skipped out of the room, eager to set his plan in motion. 

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The next day, as you were on your way to the copy room, Louis Litt beckoned you into his office. The air in the room felt different, an unusual tension hanging in the air. Louis, with a somewhat secretive smile, asked for your help with a deposition. He believed you were the perfect candidate to handle the client interview. He said he will be there to supervise it all. 

Despite the lingering suspicion about Louis's true intentions, you were eager to prove your skills and showcase your capabilities. With determination in your eyes, you took the file full of questions that Louis prepped for you into the conference room, ready to face the challenge. As you were coming round the conference room, Louis excused himself to the bathroom saying he was going to be right back and to start without him.

As you entered the room and set up the camera, you were met with the unexpected sight of Amir Jackson—the person you would be interviewing. Suppressing the internal alarm bells, you maintained a professional demeanor and focused on the task at hand.

"Good morning, Mr. Jackson. My name is Y/N, and I'll be conducting the deposition today. Please make yourself comfortable," you greeted, doing your best to project confidence.

Amir acknowledged you with a nod, “Oh trust me. I remember you.  I can't forget a face like that sweetheart”.

 You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this deposition than met the eye. As you pressed record on the camera, a pit forming in your stomach as you felt that you were part of a bigger scheme that Louis had formed. But you continued on. 

The questions came to an end and Louis was nowhere in sight. You think you did a good job but you really hoped you would have some help guiding you. You were reaching over to turn off the camera when Amir made his way around the table, invading your personal space as he placed his hand on your thigh.  You felt disgusting, but you gritted your teeth and tried to remove his hand. His grip just got tighter. 

“Mister Jackson, you are married and I am not interested so please let go”, you remained calm. 

"This isn't the first time I've given in to another woman's temptation," Amir whispered, his hand slowly making its way up higher. . The situation escalated, and you attempted to stand up, desperate to distance yourself from his unwarranted advances.

Just as the discomfort reached its peak, Louis Litt stepped into the room, 

 "We got you now, Amir," Louis declared, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Louis revealed  that the entire encounter had been captured on camera, since the little red button was still going and Louis left his dictaphone as well. There was enough proof of the man Amir really was

The revelation startled Amir, who looked like he was ready to erupt in anger at being caught.

But a last Amir stammered trying to get his words together. 

“I think you should make some calls”, Louis said, his smile not faltering. 

Amir, now furious, stormed off, leaving you alone in the aftermath of the orchestrated confrontation. 

Anger boiled within you. You were mad at Amir, you wished you had the strength to have slapped him or yelled at him but you froze, your mind was whirling running 100 mph before you can truly comprehend what was going on. Now that it was over you were a teapot full of steam. Ready to blow. The more you thought about it, the more your frustration became directed at  Louis. 

His dramatic reveal. His smirk. This was the plan all along and you were just his puppet. He knew this was going to happen, he wanted this to happen. 

"Why the hell did you put me in that situation?" you snapped, the intensity of your emotions evident.

Louis, unfazed, responded, "It was Harvey's idea. We had to win the case, and trust me this”, he gestured to you and the empty door, “ sealed the deal”

Your anger shifted, now directed at Harvey Specter, the architect of this manipulative plan. The lines between professional strategy and personal boundaries blurred, they have been blurring. But this, this felt like the lines were being drawn all over again, You took a deep breathe as you were left grappling with the aftermath of an uncomfortable encounter.

You stormed  out of the conference room.You were shaken and in desperate need of someone to confide in. As you walked down the hallway your bubbling emotions made every step a struggle. In your mind, the need to talk this out with Rachel outweighed any confrontation you might have had with Harvey.

Focused on reaching Rachel's office, you were determined to leave the unsettling incident behind. However, Mike Ross, perceptive as ever, intercepted your path, concern shown across his face.

"Hey, are you okay? What happened back there?" Mike inquired, his voice laced with genuine worry.

The overwhelming emotions made it difficult for you to articulate your feelings. When Mike reached out to grab your hand, hoping to offer some comfort, a reflexive flinch escaped you. The subtle gesture spoke volumes about the impact of the encounter.

"Don't ask like you don't know," you managed to utter, your tone heavy with frustration and disappointment.

Mike was left dumbfounded, his attempts to provide support met with an unexpected defensive response. As you stopped in your tracks, you turned to face him, meeting the bewilderment in his eyes.

"I was Louis’s bait but if this was Harvey's idea, lord knows you were right there beside him. Batman and freaking Robin," you added, the accusation hanging in the air.

Mike's expression shifted to curiosity as he raced down the hall to Harvey’s office, needing an explanation. What the hell did you do now Harvey, Mike thought to himself. 

ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You sought refuge in Rachel's office. Rachel offered a comforting presence. You recounted the events, finding solace in Rachel's understanding.

"I can't believe he used you like that. I'm so angry on your behalf," Rachel said, her support unwavering.

As Rachel provided a comforting presence for you, on the other side of the office, Mike Ross stormed into Harvey's office, his frustration evident. Ready to give Harvey a piece of his mind for giving Louis the idea to use you as bait, Mike's accusatory words were poised on the tip of his tongue.

But Harvey, surprised by the accusation, defended himself. "What are you talking about, Mike? I didn't allow Louis to do anything."

Before Mike could continue, Harvey's tone softened. "How is she, Mike? Is she okay?"

Mike hesitated, admitting, "She's shaken up, Harvey."

Without sparing another second, Harvey stood up, determination etched on his face. "I need to find her."

ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ

The atmosphere in Rachel's office was heavy as you sat there, still visibly shaken from the encounter with Amir Jackson. You found comfort in spinning your bracelet around your wrist.

Rachel, ever the empathetic friend, suggested a visit to the bakery you both loved, a subtle attempt to bring a touch of sweetness to the somber moment. As she left to fetch the cookies, you stayed seated at her desk chair, staring out of the window. 

Harvey stepped in to check on you. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken tension as you looked up, frustration written  across your face. You turned back to the window refusing to look at him. 

You couldn't hold back the surge of emotions that spilled out. "Fuck you"

You were always so poised, always so put together, Harvey couldnt and wouldnt lie that hearing your curse did something to him. But he scratched that out of his mind, returning to the matter at hand. 

Still taken aback by the force of your words,  he raised his hands defensively. "I had nothing to do with what Louis did. I wouldn't put you in that position."

But you weren't convinced. "Your motto is 'do whatever it takes to win,' right? I was just a pawn in your grand scheme of things. Last week, after the panic attack, I thought we were okay. I thought we were on good terms, but now I don't know what to believe."

Harvey's expression hardened as he tried to find the right words to reassure you. "You weren't a pawn, Y/N. I didn't know about Louis's plan, and I would never intentionally put you in a situation like that."

You scoffed, frustration and hurt evident in your voice. "Your actions speak louder than words, Harvey. I'm tired of being caught in the crossfire of your 'win at all costs' mentality.” 

Harvey, his usual composed demeanor faltering, tried to find the right words to reassure you. The weight of your accusations, was challenging the fragile trust that had started to rebuild between both of you. 

You continued to stare out of the window, refusing to meet Harvey's gaze. He could feel the tension escalating, and he knew he had to address the storm of emotions swirling within you.

"Look at me," Harvey said firmly, his voice cutting through the charged atmosphere.

You clenched your jaw, still refusing to comply. Unfazed, Harvey moved closer and he bent down  a little so he would be eye level with you and with a gentle touch, guided your head to face him. His touch ignited the fuel of your emotions, whether it be rage or something else entirely. There was a fire burning within you. 

"I don't like to repeat myself," Harvey stated, his eyes locking onto yours.

You met his gaze, still angry, a tempest of emotions brewing within you. He could see the fire in your eyes and sensed the need for an outlet. "Yell at me," he urged, guiding you to stand up.

You were now facing Harvey, an arm's length between both of you. You took this oppurtunity, you took a deep breath as you let it all out. 

"You are insufferably arrogant and stubborn. You're like a shark in a corporate sea, ruthless and cold-hearted. You wield your charisma like a weapon, and everyone else is just a pawn in your game. You  bend the rules until they are ALMOST at a breaking point", you go off on a mini rant. 

Harvey, with a measured tone, responded, "I don't disagree. The fact that I haven't interrupted you should tell you I take pride in who I am. But one thing you didn’t say and one thing I would never do is hurt the people I care about. Maybe I would occasionally push Mike in front of a slow-moving car, but that's as far as I'd go." 

You stifle a small laugh, trying not to give Harvey any satisfaction. But you nodded at him showing that you believed him.

His hand rested on your shoulder as his eyes looked at you with concern. "How are you?" he emphasized.

You shrugged, voicing your discomfort. "I feel kinda disgusting right now."

Harvey's jaw tightened as anger flared in his eyes. "I'm gonna kill Louis," he declared, ready to retaliate.

As he turned to leave you grabbed his arm. "Don't hurt him," you pleaded, your voice holding a mix of anger and compassion. Despite the hurt you felt, you couldn't bear the thought of Louis facing physical harm.

Harvey paused, looking down at your hand on his arm. "I can't promise that I won't give him a piece of my mind, but I won't hurt him physically."

You nodded, acknowledging the compromise.

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The celebratory feeling filled the air in Jessica's office as Harvey stormed in, anger etched across his face. Louis and Jessica stood there, clinking glasses in celebration of what they believed was a triumph in the Amir Jackson case.

"Join us, Harvey! Louis found a way for us to win this case. It's finally over" Jessica exclaimed, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within Harvey.

Harvey's eyes narrowed as he observed Louis making himself small under the intensity of his gaze. Unable to contain his fury any longer, Harvey erupted, "Louis, you pretentious fucker! How dare you do that to her?"

Jessica, puzzled, looked between Harvey and Louis. "Harvey, what happened? Why are you so angry?"

Ignoring Jessica's inquiry, Harvey continued his tirade, directing his fury solely at Louis. "You used Y/N. You put her in a bad situation with Amir. That's a new low, even for you."

Jessica's confusion shifted to anger as she slammed her glass down. "What?"

Louis, feeling the heat of Harvey's wrath, defended himself, "You said to do whatever it takes to win."

" One, you know how I feel about cheating. And two, you know what yeah this is my fault. For half a second there, I thought you would be a lawyer, not try to pimp out my associate," Harvey placing particular emphasis on the word "my."

“Here's the deal," Louis began to explain his plan. "Amir's brother-in-law allowed him to join his firm under one condition: he behaves and doesn't cheat on his sister. Now, Amir signed his contract promising to behave because Amir’s brother in law has a list of evidence that could easily get him disbarred, but his brother-in-law promised not to expose him as long as he kept his promise."

Louis sighed as he continued, "Y/n was the bait, Harvey. She is one of the more attractive associates that Amir couldn't resist. So I  let the pawns fall where they should fall and we got it all on camera. Amir's brother in law is going to the association to get him disbarred as we speak. "

Jessica chimed in, "Louis, why couldn’t you let it so Y/N in on the plan.”

Louis nodded, ‘’ I didn't think it would be a big deal”

The room collectively groaned. 

"The only reason you don't have a broken nose right now is because she asked me not to hurt you...physically," Harvey declared, his rage simmering beneath the surface.

Jessica, ever the professional, butted in, “Harvey the case with Amir is over now, let me handle Louis” giving Louis a dirty glare before opening the door to her office moving Harvey out the door, “Tell everyone to go home for the night”. 

Harvey followed suit, leaving Louis to face the wrath of Jessica. As he closed the door he could hear Jesscia yell, “What were you thinking”

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Harvey's footsteps echoed through the hallway as he made his way to Rachel's office, seeking you out. Upon entering, he found you surrounded by Mike and Rachel, laughing at something as Mike shoved his face with cookies. The look on your face seemed lighter, you appeared more at ease.

Harvey addressed everyone in the room, "Alright, pack it up. Time to go home."

As he spoke, ​​his eyes lingered on you, and he added pointedly, "Especially you. Y/N.  No arguments this time, I am taking you home."

Your colleagues exchanged knowing glances, and Rachel and Mike gathered their things to leave. Harvey's directive made it clear that there was no room for negotiation this time; he was taking you home.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The plush interior of Harvey's car surrounded you, and you couldn't help but feel a bit out of place in the luxurious vehicle. Harvey, however, seemed at ease as he turned to you and casually asked, "Put your location in the GPS."

You entered your apartment complex as the destination. The ride continued in relative quiet,

You were now three blocks away from your apartment complex, when Harvey abruptly took a sharp left. Confused, you turned to him with a puzzled expression, questioning his unexpected turn.

"Harvey, where the hell are you going?" you asked.

He glanced at you, a twinkle  in his eyes, and replied, "We both deserve to have some fun tonight."

You saw him pulling up to a bar, one that seemed too classy for you. You were too undressed for this. The doubt clouded your mind. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you couldn't help but ask, "A bar, Harvey, really?"

He looked over at you, the corner of his lips quirked up. "What do you say?" He was parked but hadn't turned off the engine, giving you an out.

You looked over at him and he had that stupid, handsome smug smirk on his.

Not wanting the "what ifs" to take over, you met his gaze and said, "I'm in."

[lavenlady]

Hai hello!

I really like your work and the way you present the characters ^^

Would you be interested in writing megatron or Optimus prime (whichever you prefer :3) x Organic/cybertronian reader? Maybe she was previously Sentinel's partner who he got as a gift for killing the rest of the primes? Maybe they knew her earlier as Orion pax or D-16?

I really like your work

I am happy that you liked it! I have decided to do both but more on D-16 side.

The reader will be a minicon - small but powerful!

Enjoy :3

✿Special Gift✿

D16/Megatron and Orion Pax/Optimus Prime

➤ You were 'taken in' by Sentinel Prime

➤ Forged a little after the betrayal so you do not know the truth, but found the perfect Prime suspicious - he was just too perfect

➤ You were a minicon and minicons posses the ability to power up cybertronians, so Sentinel saw usefulness in you and decided to let you keep your cog, even then you only reached the hip of a miner bot

➤ It was a win-win for Sentinel, he just kept getting more and more powerful after his successful 'promotion' - a special gift that made him more of an Icon in Iacon

➤ Oh how many times he showed off with your help and called you his partner

➤ You were usually by Sentinels side in Iacon but were always left behind when the Prime went searching for the Matrix of Leadership

➤ You couldn't really go anywhere, but after the Iacon 5000 race you were intrigued by those two miners - Orion Pax and D-16

➤ You probably saw how Darkwing threw them into Sub-level 50 and decided to follow them

" So you are the miners that took part in the race. I never knew I would see this in my entire onlining! "

➤ You accompanied them to the surface and finally got to know everyone better, mainly D-16 and Orion Pax

" You sneaked into the archives, nearly got beaten and was close to fall into the void?! On a daily basis?! And I thought I had an exciting life! "

" You are on top of the sector and use a steel bag to train?! You are so strong! I bet you could snap someone in half! "

➤ Then finally finding out the truth...

" Ha! I knew it! There was something fishy about him! "

➤ And others finally got their cogs and you got an upgrade, but couldn't really check as you had to run away

➤ Others had quite a difficulty in transforming and thus you decided in the end to cling to D-16

➤ Then High Guard takes you hostage and D-16 takes on Starscream, but you couldn't just sit there and watch

➤ So you jumped to help D-16, transforming into his fusion cannon, but quite more upgraded

➤ Now you can imagine how easier it was to find them when D-16 fired into the sky

➤ Then Sentinel's pawns capture you and you finally met Sentinel again

➤ All is the same, but as D-16 is about to be branded, you finally transform and jump at Sentinels face trying to buy others time

➤ In the end Sentinel breaks your knee joints to keep you in place and that fuels even more D-16's rage - or rather said fury

➤ His new friend used and forced to do as the false Prime says? Not gonna happen again

➤ Then the branding, the fight that you decided to take part in only wishing for the treachery of Sentinel to end, not expecting Orion's actions

➤ And finally Orion gets shot

➤ You and D-16 didn't want that to happen and especially didn't plan on killing their friend

➤ It was D-16 decision to drop down Orion into the void, but you couldn't really find the reason to leave him - you have to get rid of the false prime still, it was his fault after all

➤ You and now Megatron, after getting the Megatronus Prime's cog and a power up, plan to fix Iacon all together

➤ Then Optimus Prime comes and the battle followed by banishment

➤ You didn't know who to choose, you really liked both of your friends

➤ But at the same time....

➤ Not everything can be solved without violence, it was needed to be done and you will - for now - stand by it

➤ Feeling sad that you have lost some of your friends, but at least you still have D- Megatron left

➤ He promised a new, better future and you are going to help in achieving it, even if it ment to offline in process

□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■□

(anyway here is the height I imagine the reader having

The cybertronians in Tf One are huge so minicons have to be quite bigger to fit with proportions - at least i think)

(Master list)

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (2)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of illegal activities/mafia business/murder, strong reader, mentions of breeding/surrogate, wish for children, shady deals, shitty boyfriend, reader doesn’t take shit from no one, tension, sexy mobsters

A/N: We get to know what happened before the party.

Indecent Proposal (1)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

You look at Steve, holding his gaze, “I’ll be yours if you get rid of him…”

Three weeks before the party, …

“Sirs, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers,” Scott nervously tugs at the tie around his neck. He hates ties and suits. This can’t be helped. His goal is to get a better, more important, position within the organization. 

“Why are you wasting our time?” Bucky grumpily says. He slams a manila folder shut and sighs deeply. “We have better things to do than talking to one of our lower-rank minions…”

Steve stops his husband and partner before he can rip Scott apart.

“Please excuse my husband. He’s in a bad mood. The surrogates we interviewed so far didn’t reach our expectations.”

“Steve, he doesn’t need to know shit about our life,” Bucky huffs as his husband just spilled that they are trying to have a baby. 

“Surrogate, hmmm…I guess it’s hard to find the perfect woman. She can’t be too old or have a jealous man by her side. I never was jealous.” Scott babbles. “Shesh, I hope my girl doesn’t want children so soon.”

Bucky furrows his brows at Scott’s words. 

“I can tell, she’s a horny bitch every time she comes home after spending the day with her friend's kids. She begs me to breed her, and give her a baby,” Scott misses the look Steve and Bucky share.

“What?” Bucky questions. “Your girl wants a baby?” He tosses the manila folder into the bin. “Steve, a word…”

Scott waited patiently for the heads of the mob to call him in again. He steps back inside the room, eyes trained on the floor as Steve and Bucky watch him like hawks.

“Mr. Lang,” Steve clears his throat as his husband stares at the manila folder again. “We have something in mind you can help us with.”

“You do?” Scott excitedly says. “Yes. Of course! I’ll do anything!”

“It’s pretty easy,” Bucky sits on the plush sofa opposite the chair Scott occupies. “We are looking for a surrogate, and your girlfriend gets horny imagining having a baby.”

Scott dumbly stares at Bucky. He doesn’t understand a single word the mobster said. 

“What my husband tried to tell you is that we want your girl to become our surrogate,” the blonde casually says. “You will get a better position in our organization and more money than you could ever spend. In return, your girlfriend will become our surrogate.”

“Surrogate…” Scott licks his lips. “So…she will go to a doctor and stuff?”

Bucky smirks darkly. “Oh, no,” he shakes his head. “We are doing this the natural way. Your pretty girl will get to cum all over our cocks. We will breed her like the whore she’ll be for our cocks.”

“You want…oh,” shifting in his seat Scott considers his options. You are only together for a few months. He’s not in love but likes having someone to fuck around. You’re replaceable to him. If he plays his cards right, he’ll be a made man in no time. “I’ll talk to her, Sirs.”

Steve nods slowly while his husband grins wolfishly. “We need to check on her medical records first. Give us a few days. If she’s a match, we will give you a call.”

Three days later, …

“Mr. Rogers, Sir,” Scott tries to calm his racing heart. “She’s a match? Really? I mean, you want her to have your baby?”

Steve explains that you are compatible with them. He hides that you are perfect and that his husband can’t think of anything else than putting his hands on you since he got a glimpse of you some weeks ago.

“A party? Yes. That’s the perfect opportunity. I’ll talk to Y/N. She will love becoming your surrogate. And…uh…maybe we can talk about the new position too. You said something about money too.”

“You’ll get what you deserve,” Steve sarcastically says. He can’t believe Scott offers you on a silver plate to them. Not that he would complain. It’s easier this way. 

If you come to them on free terms, they can seduce you, and offer a better life to you instead of taking you with them by force.

Meanwhile, at Steve and Bucky’s mansion, …

“She’s perfect, Stevie,” Bucky swoons as he looks at the wall, plastered with pictures of you. “I think we found our girl.”

“Her medical records look good too. The doctor said she was a perfect match. In any way,” Steve looks at one of the pictures, licking his lips. Scott took it for them. You are only in your nightie and smile coyly at Scott. “We need to be quick before that idiot gets the chance to breed her.”

“We won’t give her back, right?” Bucky furrows his brows. “Right? She’s going to be our girl. I want to breed her more than once. I’ll always keep her full of our babies.”

Steve smirks at his husband. “Of course, we won’t give her back. She’s going to be ours, baby. No one will take her away from us. After she had our cocks for the first time, she will be addicted either way.” 

One week before the party, …

“A party? Scott,” you sigh deeply. “I told you that my friends invited me to a lady’s night. Why didn’t you tell me about the party earlier? I don’t have a dress for such a fancy event.”

“I got you a dress, shoes, and lingerie,” he points at a huge box on the bed. “You don’t need to take care of anything. Just look sexy and pretty as always.”

Your eyes widen at Scott’s thoughtfulness. Until today, you never thought he’d be more than a fling. Scott is cute, and you like his sense of humor. But he’s immature and selfish most of the time.

“Okay, then,” you softly say. “I’ll call my friends and cancel our plans.” You gasp when you open the box to see the most beautiful dress you have ever seen. “Scott, the dress looks so expensive.”

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he grins. Scott hides that Steve and Bucky chose the dress and paid for it. “Only the best for my girl.”

Now, Steve and Bucky’s office, …

“Babe, you don’t mean that,” Scott splutters. He raises his hands in surrender and pleadingly looks at you. “Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, we had a deal. I thought you always keep your word!”

“We do,” Bucky gets the gun out of his shoulder holster, “always. The problem is,” he unlocks his gun to press it to your now ex-boyfriend’s chest, “you lied to us.”

“The deal was that you talk to her and that she knows about the deal. You dared to put her in a situation like this. What did you expect? That we bend her over and take what we want?” Steve growls, making you whimper.

Their alpha behavior makes you hornier than it should. You press your legs together, fighting your arousal. “I’m not some whore you can offer to your buddies,” you mutter under your breath. “I can’t believe I canceled my lady’s night for you!”

“Babe, please…they are going to kill me. I’m sorry, okay,” he begs again. “We can talk things out. You only need to let them breed you once. For me…”

“Fuck you,” you throw your clutch at Scott. “I won’t ride dick only because you beg me to do so. I’ll fuck them to get off, not to help you make a career.”

“Doll, you need to calm down,” Steve purrs in your ear. He possessively slings one strong arm around your waistline to press your body to his. “We don’t want a quick fuck. You are going to be ours.”

“Forever,” Bucky adds. He looks over his shoulder to watch his husband grind into you. “Steve, slow down.”

“I only try to keep our sweet doll from hurting herself,” the blonde pecks your neck. “We are going to do all the dirty work for you from now on.”

“How do you want us to get rid of him?” Bucky pokes your ex-boyfriend’s chest with his gun, snickering as Scott wets himself. “Please tell me I can use one of my knives.”

You gently touched the arm around your body, patting it. “I want to get to know you better before we…” You lick your lips. “I’m not going to be only a hole you can fill.”

“Baby doll, you are going to be so much more,” Bucy turns around and places his gun on the desk. He steps toward you to cup your face and claim your lips in a soft kiss. “Steve and I will ruin you, sweetness.”

“Hands up, and do not move!” Scott took the chance and grabbed Bucky’s gun. He aims it toward you and Steve. His hands tremble, and he struggles to aim at Steve, not you.

Bucky smirks darkly. “I guess this means I can use my knives…”

Scott pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. He pulls it again, and again until Bucky slaps the gun out of his hands. “Did you honestly believe I'll use a gun in front of the future mother of our children?” He grunts. “You are dumber than I thought.”

“You idiot could’ve hit me!” You snarl in Scott’s direction. “What the fuck!” He stammers a meaningless apology. You know he only tried to save his ass. You ended up between a rock and a hard place because of him. “I want him gone until morning.”

“Consider it done,” Bucky purrs. “And after he’s gone, we will get to the fun part…”

Part 3

[notmorbid]

all-night pharmacy.

dialogue prompts from all-night pharmacy by ruth madievsky.

you're so alive, it's scary.

being a person doesn't come naturally for me.

what's the deal with this place?

you are my best and my worst friend.

are we horrible people?

i like the idea of having someone to come home to.

i can't tell if you're being cruel or if you're just dumb.

these aren't the decisions of a well-adjusted person.

the less you know about my life, the better.

everyone here is a liar and a cheat.

you deserve to have a life of your own.

a person can't be held responsible for what they don't know.

all relationships are transactional.

no one should have that much power over you.

it isn't too late to come back.

you're uninvited from my birthday party.

i love you, but you're such a cunt.

who do you think you are?

forced intimacy makes me lightheaded.

i know you're in there. let me in.

jesus. why do you have a knife?

what happened last night?

it was less embarrassing to pretend i didn't care.

maybe i'm not the mothering type.

i wish i could carry some of this pain for you.

i need a break from feeling so much all the time.

sometimes i can't tell if i'm asleep or awake.

whatever's going on, we'll figure it out.

i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared all the time.

this is the most i can imagine for myself.

if you're not asking yourself 'am i ruining my life?' at least once a day, you're not living at all.

you act like you're over it, but it's okay if you're not.

all my life, i've felt like a dead animal with its skin still on.

it's a virtue to rid yourself of anything that doesn't serve you.

i've never had a day of rest in my life.

i chase after you like a dog, leaving pieces of myself behind, and every time, you act like that's how it's supposed to be.

you don't take me seriously. i'm not a real person to you.

i can't play house anymore.

never say that name in front of me.

to you, other people are always the problem.

you can't reach a mutual understanding without spilling blood.

want to make fifty bucks?

the only way to really see a person is to lose everything you have in common.

you don't think we'll get caught?

our loyalty is to story, not reality.

just don't do anything that could result in a lawsuit or a tmz article, and you're fine.

i don't have the energy to keep up with your antics.

our most beloved delusion was that lying to each other was a kind of love.

speaking our fears aloud won't save us.

one day, the mask slipped. i haven't been able to wear it since.

i try not to think about my life at all.

a junkie can spot another junkie without a flashlight.

your voice reminds me of wool sweaters.

boundaries? i don't know her.

i'm just sick of doing the same goddamn thing every day.

you are obsessed with a projection that will never love you back.

think of me as a spiritually connected friend.

i know liars. you don't strike me as one.

you have iconically poor judgment.

has anyone ever told you about your past lives?

you're capable of tolerating a lot. frankly, more than you should.

friendship can be a slow burn. you don't have to consume it like a drink at last call.

i'll give you a clue. i work for myself.

you make me want to feel things again.

criticism is still a cousin of attention.

you don't have to pretend to like something just because i made it.

i know you crave being told what to do.

you don't have to settle for being a person things happen to.

you have desires. act on them.

bitch, does this look like an intro to philosophy seminar?

i thought i had quit you.

my favorite. how did you know?

i feel like my organs are cannibalizing each other.

how did i get here? that's not a rhetorical question. i'm actually asking.

i can't tell if i believe it, or if i'm making excuses for myself.

sometimes i wonder if it's healthy how much meaning you see in things.

you're always waiting for the universe to hurt you or to love you. usually in that order.

that's how it was in my family. reading the room was a survival skill.

where will all the animals go in the rapture?

a bunch of fuckups under one roof doesn't constitute a family.

my little saint.

time passes more slowly as a sober person.

you'd better not pull away from me now.

there's a russian proverb that goes, 'so much is ruined by saying it aloud'.

you wear your emotions like a name tag.

your resting face frightens me.

how are you both the most innocent and the most experienced person i've ever met?

i need you to just be here with me.

our dead deserve to see you happy.

i like the idea of being marked by you.

i don't know what i saw, but it was more than i wanted.

i know what i saw.

i can't tell which of the memories are real, if any.

i can't believe you're mine.

nobody warned me how terrifying it is to get what you want.

you're cute when you're freaked out.

sex is supposed to be unsettling.

there are things i need to atone for.

you can't go back like it's nothing.

i won't live in service of my dead's vision for me.

___ was a real person. a murder isn't a metaphor.

count five things you can see. four things you can touch. three things you can hear. two things you can smell. one thing you can taste.

banish one god, and you'll end up worshiping another.

i want to be with you, but i don't want to keep feeling like this.

you know everything about me, but you won't let me know you.

you aren't someone i can keep at a distance.

i've been reading about intergenerational curses.

resisting something isn't the same as not wanting it.

anything you say stays between us.

i can't decide if i like you.

most people only possess a third of the empathy they think they have.

will it get easier?

hope is a tricky thing: losing it is bad, but so is having too much.

i don't want the future to come. i have a bad feeling about it.

in cartoons, you don't start falling until you look down.

why are you here? where have you been?

how did you know i'd come looking for you?

you never asked what i was going through. you didn't want to know.

i didn't have the language for what was happening to me.

you were supposed to protect me.

there's a lot i don't remember. a lot i don't want to remember.

i wouldn't have looked for me, either.

we belong to ourselves now.

you know where i am, and i know where you are. maybe that's enough.

when i'm down, vigilante justice makes me feel better.

survival is provisional.

[narryffdreaming]

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — TWO

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART TWO: 14,9k words Please read: Part two explores a lot of Aurora's irrational thoughts and it shows how much she struggles to be herself after being married to someone who was emotionally abusive to her. From my perspective, it's a really important chapter to develop the relationship between Aurora and Harry, but I want people to be mindful of its content in case they don't feel comfortable reading about this, or in case it hits too close to them. Feel free to reach out if you want to skip something and you'd like me to fill you in. <3

PART ONE

Despite the line, getting through security would've taken Aurora hardly three minutes. That is, of course, if she hadn't had to wait for Harry for another ten. 

He doesn't look the least apologetic for the held back, though. Nor bothered in the slightest by the extra time he seemingly needed. Smiling at her and holding their shared tray as he tilts his chin to an empty table and leads the way towards it. 

Aurora follows him quietly, checking her watch just to make sure they won't run out of time. And she does it unconsciously, regretting every time she catches herself looking at her wrist. Because she knows they're early. She swears she knows. And she wishes she could relax and just enjoy things without that awful feeling rushing through her body. That feeling that turns into a voice and yells at her that she's constantly behind. 

Behind what, one could ask, and Aurora wouldn't be able to answer.

She's just… Behind. 

Behind, and watching her life go by.

All the damn time.

Harry stops by the table, and Aurora mimics him. She drops her bag and falls on one knee, pulling up the hem of her dress and uncovering her foot. The Nike sneakers she's wearing used to be white once, but now they are just old and dirty, and she loves them even more like this. She nibbles the flesh inside of her bottom lip while tying the shoelaces up, then changes to her other knee, and repeats the process. 

Once she's done, she stands up and pats her legs, getting rid of any airport floor dirt from her clothes. 

"You're fast," Harry says, putting his foot down from the edge of the table. 

Aurora pulls the fabric of her dress up her chest and furrows her brows. "I am?"

"Hm, yeah." He frowns with amusement and chuckles. "You sure are."

"Huh." She wiggles her eyebrows up and down, then quirks the corner of her mouth up. 

Maybe, she should point out that perhaps she isn't fast, but he is too slow. Or that, unlike him, she'd organized everything beforehand so she wouldn't waste any second longer than she absolutely needed to. But what good would that do? Besides, those thoughts don't even feel like hers. They don't sound like hers. 

So she says nothing, instead, and steps closer to where he stands. 

Harry gives the tray they're sharing a gentle push to her side, and puts his other foot up. 

Aurora promptly slides the tray closer to her and places it in front of her belly, next to her bag. 

Great. 

Saying nothing was a bad idea, because silence is awkward now. 

She licks her lips and keeps her attention on their belongings, not knowing exactly what to say. 

Time goes by, though, and the longer she waits, the more awkward it gets. 

So she decides to just say whatever, just to get them talking again. 

"Perks of being a mom, I guess." She blurts out, then grabs their passports and shrugs. "Being fast, I mean." 

Harry leans on his bent knee and looks at her over his shoulder, blindly tying up his own shoes. 

"Yeah? Why's that? You get any super speed powers when you're pregnant or something?"

Aurora freezes for a second, passports still in hand. She turns her head to the side, and narrows her eyes at him.

Harry's soft lips are pursed, his green eyes are twinkling with playfulness, and his cheeks are tinted with a boyish flush under his facial hair. He's clearly having fun with his own silly comment, and it causes Aurora to break into a short laugh — not because it's funny, but because she simply can't help it. 

She shakes her head, and looks back at the tray. 

"I rush to get ready so I can pay attention to Noah, okay?" she explains, grabbing the boarding passes and checking the names on them. She puts hers inside of her passport, and the other inside of Harry's. "It's not a big deal."

She'd never thought about it, but it's the truth — she is usually busy keeping an eye on Noah, even from a distance. The little monster can't stay still for too long, and no matter how much she adores how energetic he is or that she tries her best to let him explore things by himself, the truth is that he's still only four, and she can't leave him wandering around unattended.

Which is why she fought so hard to sign him up for preschool — it gave her time to slow down and do other things, too.

Okay. See? That — that right there — is Aurora's truth. That's a thought that feels and sounds like hers. A thought that she came up with on her own, based on her own experiences and her own mistakes. A thought that reveals how she's learned that taking care of Noah is her responsibility, and that if she doesn't pay attention to her son, nobody does. 

No matter how much she dreamed it would be different.

No matter how much she believed it should be different. 

"Ohhh," Harry says. "Ok, then."

She sticks her passport and boarding pass into the front pocket of her bag, maybe a little bit more forcefully than she needs to.

"Exactly. So don't judge me."

"What?!" Harry laughs, putting his foot down from the table. "I wasn't—" 

"I can't leave my son unattended, can I?"

"I—I know, yeah." His face falls, and he nods. "I get it. That's… It makes sense. Yes." 

"Right. Great." 

A second goes by, and then another one, and another one.

Silence settles again, but this time Aurora isn't worried about it being awkward or not. 

There's just… So much going on. 

Her heart is thumping loudly inside her chest, and her ears are buzzing. 

She shouldn't have snapped at him. 

She shouldn't have snapped at him.

It wasn't about him. 

It wasn't his fault. 

She pinches the tip of her nose and breathes in. Slowly, and steadily. 

One more time. 

Slowly.

And steadily.

And then, she moves again.

She holds Harry's things in her hand and leans on the table, reaching for his bag. Before she touches it, she looks at him over her shoulder and asks, "Do you mind if I open your bag?"

Harry doesn't answer, though. He's tilting his chin down and shaking his leg, making sure his pants are properly covering his ankles. 

Aurora purses her lips and straightens her back, then slides his bag across the table and pulls it closer to her body. 

Now everything's in front of her, the tray caged in between both duffel bags. 

She bites her bottom lip, but it's hard to stop her mouth from turning into a smile. 

Maybe the speed in which she moves isn't an inconvenience, after all. In fact, maybe it even comes in handy, because apparently if she doesn't move for both of them, someone will sooner or later shove them away. 

"Harry," she insists.

"Hm?" He looks up. A frown crinkles his face — his eyebrows are pulled together, his forehead is puckered, and his lips are curled downwards. As soon as he meets her eyes, though, his shoulders drop, and he shakes his head. "Sorry."

He scratches his jaw, dragging his nails over his stubble. 

Aurora stretches her arm, and pats her hand on the edge of the table, where his feet were a minute ago. "It's fine. I was just asking if it's okay to put your passport inside your bag."

"Oh! Yeah yeah, sure. Go ahead. Thanks."

"'Kay," she says, already unzipping the front pocket and putting things away. 

Aurora rolls her shoulders at the same time Harry moves closer, and she unthinkingly snatches his belt from the tray and hands it to him. 

"Here."

"Oh," he murmurs, grabbing it from her fingers. "Thanks."

He steps away, but there's something in his voice that somehow catches her attention, and Aurora turns her head. 

She glances over her shoulder, and peeks at his face. 

Harry is looking down again, chin pressed against his chest while he takes the end of his belt and puts it into the first front loop of his beige pants. His movements are casual, but he's holding back a smile, and Aurora can tell his mind is working on something.

Something silly, to be more specific. 

She curls her mouth up, then raises her left eyebrow. "What?"

Harry tugs his belt, threading it through the second loop. 

"What?" he repeats, and his mouth finally turns into a grin. 

She turns her body towards him, then places one hand on her waist and the other spread open on the table, holding up her weight. "C'mon, out with it."

Harry laughs, slightly bending his knees and throwing his head back. "I didn't even say a word!"

"Well, you didn't have to!" She rolls her eyes and chuckles, backing away from the table to put both hands on her hips. "I can see you're thinking something."

He shakes his head, looking down and threading his belt through the next loop. 

"Harry…"

He peeks at her through the corner of his eyes, then focuses back on his belt. 

"You're aware you can leave me unattended, right?" he asks, keeping a bright smile on his face and the light tone on his voice.

"What?"

"I mean I don't mind." He shrugs, eyes still on his current task. "Gotta admit it's kinda cute to see you like this." 

"I don't—"

"My favorite part was probably when you cleaned up the table."

"I—" Aurora closes her mouth, and exhales through her nose. "You put your feet there, Harry."

"I did, yeah. And you cleaned it up."

"Well, someone has to clean up your mess, don't you think?"

Harry glances at her, and smirks as mischievous and suggestive as he can be. "Oh, I always clean up my mess, love, don't worry about it."

He winks, and Aurora gasps. 

"Oh my God!"

She turns to face the table, feelings her cheeks getting warm. 

Harry laughs, though, so she steps closer to his side and nudges him with her elbow. 

"Shut up."

"'Kay mum."

"Ughhh." She rolls her eyes, then shuts them tightly and takes a deep breath in. "You're so annoying." 

Harry's laughter only grows louder, and Aurora shakes her head, blinking her eyes open again. 

It only takes him a moment to calm down, but the smile is still obvious in his voice when he speaks again. 

"I know. I'm just teasing you, tho. I'll stop now. I promise."

Aurora snorts. "Yeah, right." 

She believes his words as much as she believes Noah when he promises he will eat his entire dinner if he gets to eat dessert first. 

The thought brings a smile to her face, and she bites her lip to hold it back. 

Peeking inside the tray one more time, she finds several rings, a bracelet, a watch, and three necklaces. Her mouth twitches, and her chest trembles with amusement — no wonder why Harry took so much longer than her to get through security.

She pulls the string of her necklace from the tray, takes each side to the back of her neck and quickly clasps it back to its everyday place. Next, she grabs her watch, and puts it on just as fast around her wrist. 

"Well,"  she starts, then looks at him. 

Harry is, once again, deeply focused on his task — his chin touches his chest, his eyebrows are pulled together, and he's biting his bottom lip. 

"All yours now," she adds. 

Harry peeps at her through the corner of his eyes, his hands still attached to his belt as he finally reaches the last loop. He darts his vision to the tray, then back at her, scanning her chest, her wrist, and her hands. "You sure? All of it?"

"Mhmm."

A group of people walks to their table, and Aurora takes a step aside to give them more room.

"Ok." He buckles his belt, then fixes his shirt. "We can go, then."

"Oh. I didn't mean to rush you."

He smiles, putting one hand inside the tray and carelessly collecting everything that's left inside. 

"You didn't." He closes his hand into a fist, then shoves everything inside of his pocket. "It's just getting crowded here. C'mon."

"Hey, was my joke inappropriate?"

Past security and turning right, the hallway is significantly less hectic than any other area Aurora has walked through in the last hour or so. 

It is probably one of the brightest, too. 

"Hm?" she asks, tilting her head to give Harry her full attention. "Sorry, what joke?"

"About… Y'know, cleaning up my mess."

"Ohhh." Aurora laughs, then waves him off. "Please, it's nothing any of you guys haven't joked about before." 

"I know, but… Things are different now, aren't they? Don't want to make you uncomfortable, or, well, don't want to be disrespectful to your hus—"

"You're fine," she says, cutting him off before she'll be forced to either correct him or say nothing, implicitly letting him believe there's still a husband in her life. "Don't worry about it. Let's stop here so you can put your rings back on, yeah?"

She points to one side of the hallway, and walks in front of him to guide the way. It only takes her a few steps, then she places her bag by her feet and turns around. 

When she looks at him, she finds him frowning. 

Frowning and frozen on the spot. 

"Harry, hey!" She raises one hand and wiggles her fingers. "C'mon. I'll help you."

Harry's face softens. He shakes his head, then walks towards her while putting his hand inside of his pocket. 

Leaning against the white wall, Aurora watches him come to a stop right in front of her, then drop all of his jewelry on top of her spread open palm.

"Thank you," he murmurs. 

She finds his sight again, and a smile blooms across her face. "Sure, no problem."

His lips curve into a smile, too, and he looks down. He shakes his head and pulls his hair back, then turns his attention back to the items on Aurora's palms. He seems meticulous about which ring goes where, fiddling with them and hunting for specific ones. Eventually, he grabs three at once, and puts them on his pinky, middle and index left fingers. 

Aurora raises her chin and rests the back of her head against the wall, comfortably watching his relaxed face as he towers over her. 

From what she remembers, jewelry was never Harry's thing. Long hair and skinny jeans? One hundred percent. But the necklaces, the rings, and the bracelets? Those were things she'd no idea he'd be into. Or maybe not to the point of making them part of his casual look to the airport.  

"So," she teases, easing her dry lips with her tongue then forcing her voice to sound exactly like she imagines a reporter would sound like, "Harry, would you say you enjoy wearing rings?" 

Harry darts his eyes to her, and the expression on his face never falters, holding a serious and unamused demeanor as he moves his lips to say, "Bloody hate them."

She presses her lips together, but then she snorts, taking her free hand to cover her mouth. 

Harry shakes his head and grins, changing hands and catching two more rings to put on his right fingers. 

"Why? What's wrong with my rings?" 

She sighs and shrugs, calming down from her brief moment of foolish, silly laughter. 

"Nothing. 'M just teasing you."

He places the last two, and pulls the two golden strings from her palm. 

"Hmm…" Harry nods. He fixes his eyes on the jewelry and frowns, eying the many tiny knots that had formed along the necklaces. "Great, then. Glad you're having fun at my expense."

Aurora drops her jaw.

"You were making fun of me two minutes ago!"

Harry chuckles, although he's distracted by his attempt to untangle his necklaces. "Guess I was, huh."

He shakes his head, and Aurora steps away from the wall, getting closer to him.

"Which wrist do you wear this one?" she asks, lifting her hand and his bracelet.

"Left—I mean, right," he answers, and although they don't look at each other's faces, they both smile at the same time. 

Harry remains focused on the knotted strings between his fingers, but stops moving when Aurora curls one hand around his right wrist and pulls it closer to her face. In one quick movement, she clasps the item around it, then taps his hand twice. 

"All done. Now gimme that." 

She snatches the necklaces from him, and observes carefully before undoing the mess. One of the golden strings is longer than hers, but they're both just as delicate, and instead of a disk, one holds a cross pendant, and the other a tiny, thin tag. She bites her lip and patiently fiddles with the pieces of jewelry, taking her time to unwrap the tiny knots.

Things are quiet. Time ticks without a hurry. And after a minute, or maybe two, or three, she grins proudly, and lifts her chin to look at him.

"Look!" she says, even though she doesn't have to — Harry's already looking at her, already watching her. "I've done it!"

He blinks a couple of times, then nods, slowly mimicking her smile and her excitement. "Y—You did, yeah! Thanks."

"You're welcome." She grabs the longest string, picking each side with one hand, and takes a step closer to him. "I find untangling necklaces weirdly therapeutic." 

Harry widens his eyes. "What are you doing?!" 

Aurora rolls her eyes, and chuckles. "Calm down. I'm not gonna kiss you, don't worry."

"Right. No, yeah, I know that." He chuckles, too. "Of course." 

She stops moving and tilts her head, then raises her hands. "I mean, can I?"

"Wha—" Harry takes a step back. "Kiss me?!"

"Harry!" Aurora shrieks, also taking a step back and away from him. "Oh my God, no!"

She looks at him for a moment, taking in his bulged eyes and raised eyebrows. He looks mortified, and there's so much going on at once that she can't help but burst into laughter — at the misunderstanding, at the look of his face, but also at the terror in his voice. 

She turns away from him, throwing her head back as laughter breaches from her chest. 

"This is… I can't…"

"Sorry," Harry says, "I just—"

Aurora shakes her head, feeling warmth radiating from her chest throughout her entire body. 

"Oh my… Oh my God." She places one hand on her stomach and brings the other to her face, fanning herself while taking a deep breath in through her nose. "You should've… You should've seen your face… Oh God… Harry… You panicked so hard, I just…"

She wipes a tear from under her eye, and takes another deep breath in, working to calm herself down.

"I never… I never thought the idea of kissing me could… Could be that terrifying for someone. Oh God."

Harry sighs. "Auri…"

She turns around, and looks at him with the biggest smile on her face, her body still shaking from laughing. 

Harry isn't happy, though. Or at least he doesn't seem to be. He's narrowing his eyes, and furrowing his brows. His lips are pressed into a hard line, and his forehead is puckered. 

And just like that, Aurora's laughter fades away. 

Shit. 

She's too familiar with that dynamic, so she clears her throat and shakes her head. 

"I'm sorry. I—I know it wasn't funny. I just… I think I haven't laughed this hard in a really long time, so I just… I got carried away, I guess. I'm sorry. But I shouldn't—Sorry." 

"Listen, I didn't—"

"Yeah, yeah. I know." 

Actually, Aurora doesn't know. Of course she doesn't know. She has absolutely no idea what he was about to say, but she doesn't want to talk about it. She's been there before. And she's been there before so many times that her mind and body don't even know how to react any other way. How not to anticipate the humiliation and shame that is about to follow. How not to completely shut off. 

Thankfully, Harry seems to get it, because he nods, grabbing his necklaces from her hand and putting them back inside of his pocket. 

And this time, Aurora doesn't say anything about it, grabbing her bag from the floor and feeling ready to move on.

"Do you mind if we take a look around some of the shops?" Aurora asks, pointing around the World Duty Free and breaking the silence that settled between them for the past few minutes. 

Harry moves slowly next to her, keeping his hands inside of his pockets. "'Course not."

"Thanks." She makes sure to curve her mouth into a smile, then stops at the first shop to take a look at the makeup. 

Things are quiet, but Harry stands right behind her all the time, keeping her company while she brings a lipstick closer to her face to check the color shade, and then following her steps when she moves to a different shelf. 

"Hey," Aurora says, looking over her shoulder, "what's your cologne?"

"Hm..." He scratches his jaw and shrugs. "Depends on the day, I guess."

She nods, then turns to face some nail polish, aiming for the brightest options. 

It's been a while since she's done her nails. She used to love looking at her hands and seeing them colorful and filled with rings, it used to make her feel beautiful and delicate. Feminine. 

Zack used to love it as well, though, and to be honest at some point she stopped doing a lot of things Zack liked. Just because.

"Which one are you wearing today, then?"

"Why?" 

She shrugs. His voice is right behind her, but Aurora doesn't turn around to look at him. 

"'Cause you smell really nice." 

Maybe she could do her nails in Italy… Maybe one of the girls brought something with them. 

Or maybe she could get something herself…

The orange shades look nice…

She sighs, and steps away from the shelf. 

She can't. She shouldn't spend her money like that. She needs to be more careful now, especially since she spent a lot of unplanned money on that trip to Italy. 

She turns her head, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "So…?" 

Harry clears his throat. "Uh… Well… It's Guerlain."

Aurora twirls, holding her bag close to her body as her hair and dress follow her brisk movement.

"Cool! Let's find it, then." 

She walks away, and Harry's low chuckle echoes behind her. 

Although she can't see him, she feels his presence all the time, following her pace.

"What for?" he asks. 

"I don't know." She shrugs, looking from one side to the other. Scanning all the tiny duty-free shops. "I'm bored, I'm tired… Oh! There it is!" 

Her pace quickens, and so does Harry's.

Aurora only stops when she's in front of the Guerlain shelves, and then she turns around, staring at him with a smile on her face and pointing her arm to the many colognes displayed behind her. 

"Which one is yours?"

He clears his throat, and— 

Wait, is he blushing? 

Aurora purses her lips, holding herself back from laughing.

"It's L'Homme Idéal Extrême."

"Hmmm." She wiggles her eyebrows, and pulls one corner of her mouth up in a smirk. "Sounds sexy…" 

"Jesus Christ," Harry grunts, hiding his face behind both of his hands and shaking his head. 

Aurora laughs at his reaction, tapping his shoulder twice before turning on her feet and looking for his cologne. 

"What happened to you in the States, huh?" She leans down, squinting to read the names. "Never thought I would see Harry Styles getting all shy in front of me."

It takes him a moment to answer, but eventually he mumbles, "I've always been shy in front of you."

Aurora pauses for a moment, replaying his words in her mind. Images of them hanging out together pop up immediately — at the pub, at someone's apartment, after class, over the weekend. His cheeky glances, touchy hands and bold comments are always present, one way or another. He always craved attention, and people had no problem granting his wishes. 

It never bothered her, because he was young and had just joined university, but it certainly didn't paint him as a shy and reserved person. 

A snort leaves her mouth. "Yeah, right." 

She stands, and puts her hands on her waist. "What was the sexy name again?"

"L'Homme—" He sighs. "It's this one."

Aurora turns around, only to find Harry standing in the same place they were a minute ago. The shelf next to him is filled with bottles of the same cologne. Apparently, his cologne.

She gasps. 

"Harry!" She walks towards him, and Harry shakes his head in soft laughter, scratching the back of his neck. "I was standing right next to it and you didn't tell me!"

"It's just a very common cologne, Auri." He laughs, again. It sounds kind of shaky, though, and she frowns, stopping on her track. "I don't… Why are we looking for it?"

Uh… 

Well… To be honest… She doesn't have an answer for that. 

She doesn't know why they're looking for it. She is just joking. She just wanted to pass the time because she is exhausted, and because the longer she spends around people, the more afraid she is of falling apart at any moment. She thought maybe she could try it on, see if his cologne would smell as well on her skin as it smelled on his… Who knows… She was just… She wasn't thinking, okay? She was just being her stupid self.

Harry, on the other hand, isn't just messing around. Harry looks actually nervous. 

Her jokes are making him nervous. 

She is making him uncomfortable. 

In the middle of an airport, filled with people. 

Shit.

And she's done it twice now. 

First with the necklace… Now with the cologne… 

Fuck.

How many more times till he reaches his breaking point? 

How many more times till she finally pushes him through the edge? 

How many more times till she puts him in a position where he won't be able to stop himself from snapping at her?

Her hands shake, and her stomach quivers. 

"Yeah, no, I mean…" She shakes her head and smiles at him, closing her hands into fists and placing them behind her back. "You're right. Sorry. I—I'm really sorry. Hm… I think I… I should get a coffee."

Harry flinches his head back. "Wait  what?"

"Coffee. It'll keep me awake." She walks around him, and Harry follows her movements. 

"Auri, but what… Hey! What about my cologne?"

She waves it off. "Yeah, I know. I was just being annoying." 

She moves towards the exit of the duty-free, where all the departure gates are, and another yawn breaks through her lips. 

"Yep." She chuckles. "Definitely need some coffee."

"Auri," Harry calls, catching up with her. "Hey, stop. C'mon. Something just happened."

"What do you mean?" Aurora laughs. 

She flexes her fingers, curling and uncurling them. Her eyes wander around the airport, looking for a coffee shop. 

A coffee shop. 

A coffee shop. 

She needs a coffee shop. She needs to get herself together. She needs to busy herself with something before she does something silly and stupid again. 

"I… I don't know. Why did you change your mind?"

Harry walks next to her, and she offers him a smile. 

"About what?"

"What do you mean about what? About my cologne, Auri!"

Aurora flinches.

"Sorry. Yeah, no, right. The cologne. Yeah. I just… I made you uncomfortable and I was being childish. Sorry."

"I wasn't uncomfortable, Auri, I just—"

"I know."

"Auri, no, listen—" 

"Harry." She turns around and smiles, then places one hand on his elbow. "It's fine. You don't need to explain yourself. I just… I really, really need a coffee right now. I haven't slept all night, so… Yeah. I'd just like to get a coffee. If you don't mind."

She lets go of his elbow, and Harry sighs. 

"Ok, yeah. Let's get you some coffee, then."

They walk forward, side to side, and Harry speaks again. 

"Do you still drink caramel coffee?"

Aurora widens her eyes. 

"Wow… That's back from… Well, a long time ago."

It's small, and kind of timid, but Harry smiles, and then shrugs. "Used to get you one at least once a week, didn't I?"

"You did, yeah." She smiles back at him and nods, then faces forward again. There's a coffee shop only three stores ahead, and it seems to be already open. Thank God. "To be honest I can't remember the last time I had one. I drink plain black coffee now."

Harry nods, and they both walk in silence, side by side — always side by side.

It shouldn't be uncomfortable, but Aurora's chest is heavy, and her mind seems foggy. 

Truth be told, she thought she would have more time before she started disappointing her friends, before letting them know how much she's changed and how uninteresting she's become.

Meeting Harry at the airport got in between her plans, though. And she could feel herself breaking little by little each second. Having to face the memories of someone she used to be, someone she liked to be, but also someone she isn't anymore. And someone she can't be anymore. 

Looking at her feet, she bites the inside of her lip. She was acting like a child at the duty-free, wasn't she? Jumping around, excited about his cologne… 

God. She hasn't even left the country yet, and she's already ruining things. 

She needs to control herself. 

She isn't a teenager anymore. She can't embarrass him. She doesn't want to embarrass him. 

"Do you want something to eat?" Harry asks, and she stops walking.

They're in front of the coffee shop, but Aurora wouldn't have realized if it weren't for him.

She shakes her head. "No, I'll just get myself a coffee."

"Let me get it for you."

What?

She takes a step back. "Absolutely not."

Harry's smile falters, but he doesn't give up. "C'mon… Like the old times! Yeah?"

"No, Harry. I mean, thanks, but no. I can pay for mine."

"I know you can pay for yours, I don't—"

"Please." She shakes her head and looks down to the floor. "It's just a silly coffee. I can get it for me. Okay?"

Harry frowns. 

"Ok? Yeah." 

Aurora nods, looks at the shop, then back to the floor. "Are you getting anything?"

"No, I'll just wait here."

"Okay," she whispers, forcing a smile before turning around and walking away.

It's crazy to see how much Harry has changed.

That's all Aurora can think about while she stands in line and watches him type on his phone. 

He's still outside, waiting for her, and seems deeply engaged with his conversation, frowning while his fingers move rapidly. 

No more black skinny jeans, no more vintage t-shirts or Chelsea boots. No more curls that are longer than her own hair. No more thin shoulders nor skinny arms. 

His baggy pants — wide legged, high-waisted — are beige, his cute shoes are yellow, and she still can't get over the flamingo shirt he's wearing.

He looks older, too. Brooding features, chiseled cheekbones, growing stubble. His face is perfectly carved, his traces have hardened, and there is something very manly about the way he stands there, focusing on typing on his phone. 

It isn't just his physical appearance, though. He acts like a grown-up, too. There's something about the way he simply exists that screams how much he's changed. You would never tell the man standing outside is the same boy who used to make stupid bets with his roommates from uni. But it's clear that Harry isn't a boy anymore, and that he's turned into a man.

And Aurora wasn't prepared to deal with that. 

Aurora lowers her chin and rubs her eyes.

She is being ridiculous. 

Why would she need to be prepared for that? 

Of course Harry grew up! How old is he now, anyway? 29? 30? Of course he isn't the same anymore. 

She should focus on how nice it is to see him again, not about stupid things. 

Who would've thought she would actually meet him at the airport? Who would've thought they'd end up sharing the flight? Standing in line with him, hopefully getting some seats next to each other… She should appreciate having a friend by her side. That's all. 

Aurora can't remember why he stopped hanging out with the group, though, and now she can't stop thinking about it. She has absolutely no idea about anything that could be going on with his life. It was as if Harry had grown more and more distant with time, until he wasn't there at all.

She's still pretty sure the last time she saw him was at her and Zack's wedding. She remembers someone telling her he'd moved to the United States, but why wasn't she at his graduation? It didn't make sense. Especially considering how, around a year later, he was kind enough to send them a basket when Noah was born.

They weren't the closest friends, and they were in very different stages of their lives when they met, sure, but they were part of the same group, and she used to have a soft spot for him. Just like she used to have a soft spot for Niall. 

Usually, when they were all at the pub, everyone would leave and the three of them would stay behind, chatting and laughing until Aurora felt her lids closing by themselves and they would walk her home. They both used to make her laugh all the time, and she actually loved spending those moments with them. 

Until she met Zack, of course, and then she started spending her nights with him. 

Maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn't about him. Maybe she had grown more and more distant, until she wasn't around anymore. At all.

She knows it's something she's done with everyone else, at least. The girls would knock on her door from time to time, though, and she couldn't run from everyone whilst living in the same city, but Harry flying overseas was a different situation. So it makes sense they didn't keep up with their friendship. 

It makes sense, but it still bothers her. 

It bothers her because she forgot how easy, and fun, and electrifying it was to be around him. She forgot how affectionate, attentive, kind, and friendly he was. She forgot how spontaneous and cheerful she used to be with him. She forgot how much she enjoyed his carefree and easygoing way of looking at life. She forgot… 

Well, to be honest, it's like she just forgot about him. 

And how could she forget about him?

Harry used to be such a great friend. 

Just like Niall. 

But somehow different. 

Because there's something about the way Harry looks at her that she never found in Niall's eyes. It has something to do with Harry's curiosity, probably. How much he cares about details. How he likes to know more about people, about things, about everything. 

"Next?" the lady behind the counter shouts.

Aurora shakes her head, and darts her eyes away from Harry. 

She has no idea how much time she just spent staring at him. She didn't even notice she was doing it, to be honest. And she can only hope he didn't notice, as well.

The woman behind her taps her shoulder.

"That's you, miss," she says. 

Aurora widens her eyes and steps forward.  "Oh, yes, sorry… Hi!" 

Their flight is delayed. 

Aurora laughs, and rubs her fingers on her forehead. 

"And I was worried I'd be late," she murmurs.

They've been hanging out by their gate for at least half an hour now. Harry sits next to her, their bags placed together on his opposite side. He's leaning back comfortably, arms crossed on top of his abdomen and legs spread open in front of him. 

He nudges her arm with his elbow, then asks, "What was that?"

She shakes her head and waves him off with one hand, then double taps her phone with the other, lighting up the screen. 

It's 6:30. 

Noah should be waking up by now. Or at least Zack should be trying to wake him up. 

She unlocks her phone and opens up the app to text him. She takes a deep breath in, and her fingers hover the screen. She needs to be careful with her words, because she doesn't want him to think she doesn't trust him with Noah. That would be unfair with him. And it's not even about that. Of course it's not! She knows Noah's safe with his dad. She swears she never questioned him as a father. Whatever happened between them as a couple would never change the fact that Zack loves Noah to death. 

Aurora knows that. Really! The only reason why she wants to know how they're doing is because Noah has never woken up at his dad's new place, and because she knows what a long and emotional process it can be to wake him up. That's all. 

She bites her bottom lip, and types the same questions again and again, until she's happy with the way she's phrased them.

Hii! 

How are you guys doing?

How was Noah's first night over there? Did you guys have fun?

She sends the messages, and reads them over. And over, and over. 

That was good, wasn't it? She sounded friendly, right? She wasn't attacking him, right? He wouldn't be mad at her, right?

"I'll be right back," Harry says, getting up from his seat. He moves past her quickly, looking at his own hand and sliding his finger through the screen of his phone before taking it to his ear. "Hey… Yeah, I know… No, you listen to me…"

Harry doesn't sound happy — at all — and Aurora frowns. She watches him walk away, blending between people, then glances back to her phone.

No signs of Zack yet. Which is fine. Of course. It's not even been a minute. Actually, Aurora is usually so absorbed by Noah in the mornings that she doesn't check her phone until she drops him off at preschool. So it's fine. Really.

Hopefully he'll be able to make him have breakfast by 7:15, though. Otherwise they won't get there on time. Should she remind him of that? No, that's stupid. Zack is not stupid, and she always drives him insane for reminding him of the obvious little details. 

Maybe he won't even take him to preschool. Maybe he'll drive him over to his parents, instead. 

Or maybe she should just trust him. Maybe this would be the time he'd follow through with a promise he'd made.

Another yawn sneaks up on her. She slides down on her seat and rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands. 

Maybe she should accept Harry's offer and take a quick nap on his shoulder. She brushed the idea off minutes ago, but now she can't deny it sounds really tempting. 

God… How is she supposed to spend two days on a yacht? She's never been on one before. She also hasn't been around all her friends in a very long time… 

Is she going to be able to interact with them? Because if they're expecting her to act the same way she used to before getting married… Well, they'll be extremely disappointed.

The only thing about Aurora that'll resemble those old days are the clothes Maddie packed for her. 

Shit. Oh shit. Oh… Fuck! Her clothes. No, no, no. Shit! She is going to kill Madison. 

She can't wear all those clothes in front of Harry! There is no fucking way she'll walk in front of him in a bikini, or wearing those silk and backless dresses. There is absolutely no fucking way she's going to wear those tops that almost don't cover her breasts in front of him. 

Well, not just in front of him, of course…

She's thinking about Harry because he's the one with her right now, but she doesn't want to wear those clothes in front of anyone. Not just him. 

It isn't even about the people, really. It's about her body. A body that has changed a lot through the years. 

Oh, boy… She needs to sleep. She can't start spiraling about how unsexy she's been feeling for years. It's not the moment for that. It's not what the weekend is about. 

"Are you sleeping with your eyes open?" Harry's low and deep voice sounds right next to her ear, and Aurora jumps on her seat. 

Harry chuckles behind her, then makes his way around her seat. 

"Shit," she murmurs, taking her hand to her chest, but a shaky laugh still leaves her mouth. "You scared me."

He stops in front of her and furrows his brows, then tilts his head to the side and curves his mouth into a cheeky smile, narrowing his eyes to look at her. 

"What?" she asks. 

He doesn't move, though. 

And he also doesn't stop staring at her. 

Aurora shifts on her seat. 

But the staring still doesn't stop.

"Harry!" She chuckles, and looks away. 

And he still doesn't even flinch.

Oh, c'mon! That's ridiculous. 

It's like going back to university, honestly. He used to do the same when they were younger, usually at a pub or a club. He would stare at her like that until she stumbled over her own words, or until she forgot what she was about to do. He thought it was hilarious, but she never understood the point of it. 

"Knock it off, will ya?" She crosses her arms on top of her chest and rolls her eyes. "I was just thinking."

Harry (finally) laughs, face lighting up again — with dimples and wrinkles and almost fully-closed eyes.

He moves his arm, and puts a paper cup in front of her face. 

Aurora snaps her brows together.

"Sorry, love, I was just testing my skills," he says.

Aurora flinches her head back.

Why is he shoving that cup in her eyes? 

And also… "What skills?"

He shrugs. "Y'know, to rile you up just by looking at you." 

Harry presses his lips together, as if he can't wait to burst out laughing.

And Aurora knows that face, because Noah does the exact same thing. The cheeky little monster loves to surprise her, but he can never hold up a lie. He gives out the entire thing just by looking at her with the same excitement on his face. 

They honestly look the same. Except Noah is only four, and Harry a thirty-year-old man.

"Ha ha," she mocks him, looking away from his silly face. "You and my four-year-old son would be great friends."

"Aww!" Harry takes his seat next to her, chuckling and throwing an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to his side. "I'm sure we would." 

She rolls her eyes. 

Harry squeezes her cheek against his chest, and she's so close to his body that she can smell the soap and cologne emanating from his skin. He smells good. Like a fresh shower. It's a nice combination, something both strong and smooth at the same time.

Shit.

She pulls away, and shakes her head. 

"It wasn't a compliment," she murmurs. 

Harry chuckles.

"Yeah, I'm aware of that." He withdraws his arm from around her shoulders and takes it back to his side, then puts his hand back in front of her face. The one holding a paper cup. "Now, this is for you."

Aurora raises her eyebrows. 

"And what's this supposed to be, exactly?" 

"Just try it." 

She doesn't make any movement to acknowledge his request, but Harry also doesn't make any movement to hint he'll stop shoving the cup on her face. Eventually, she sighs, and her entire body falls. 

"Harry…" 

"Oh, c'mon! Just a sip. Amuse me, yeah?"

Aurora glances at his hand, then back at his face. She presses lips together, then finally uncrosses her arms and lifts one of them to reach the cup, curling her fingers around it. 

For the sake of not ruining her mood, she ignores the way he cheers, or how he grins proudly before leaning his back against the backrest of his seat. She simply clutches the cup between both hands, instead, and its warmth is a high contrast with her cold skin. She can't help but hum at the feeling, and then she shivers, even her chin trembling a little. 

A timid chuckle escapes from her mouth, and she closes her eyes. She brings the cup up to her face and puts her nose close to the lid, breathing the flavor in. 

And just like that, her chest tightens. 

The smell is unmistakable, a combination between coffee and caramel that she would recognize anywhere, anytime. 

She blinks her eyes open, and turns her head to look at him. 

Harry is watching her attentively, without any traces of amusement or playfulness surrounding him anymore.

Aurora blinks a couple of times, gathering enough strength to ask him, "Did you… Did you get me a caramel coffee?" 

He nods once, only one side of his mouth lifting up. "Yeah."

She looks back at the cup in her hands, and blinks again. 

"Why?"

"I don't know," he says, softly. "Intuition, maybe. I know you already had your black coffee, but I… I don't know. I felt like you needed it? I don't know. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, it sounds stupid. Is that okay? Hope I didn't—"

She nods rapidly — unable to speak, but also desperate for him to stop explaining himself. 

And thankfully, he does. 

Aurora doesn't know what to say about it, though. She doesn't even know if there's anything she can say about it. 

His words don't sound stupid to her. That's for sure. The thing is that Harry doesn't understand the meaning his gesture actually holds, which scares her. He was able to pick up on something she needed when she wasn't brave enough to admit it to herself in the first place. And it was something so trivial… It was just coffee. Coffee.

"Noah does that sometimes, y'know," Aurora murmurs, looking at the mass of people in front of them. She hunches down a bit, not bothering by her awful posture as she comforts herself with the hot beverage in between her hands. Changing the subject is the only way she knows how to answer him right now, so she keeps going. "Sleeping with his eyes half open. It freaks me out."

Harry hums.

"There's a name for that, isn't it?" 

His voice is as soft and calm as before, and Aurora nods.

"Yeah, nocturnal something… I don't know. I always forget the stupid word." She rolls her eyes, and a humorless laugh leaves her mouth, making her body shake. "How do people even choose these names, huh? Why bother naming it if it's gonna be some ridiculous word no-one can even pronounce?"

"That's… Yeah, I don't know. You have a point, though."

"Sorry," she whispers, looking down at her lap. "Zack drives me insane using all those terms all the time. Makes me feel stupid."

Harry doesn't say anything, but for once the silence between them doesn't feel uncomfortable. 

She exhales the frustration out of her body, taking the cup to her mouth and sipping carefully in case it burns her tongue. 

The coffee touches her lips, and its sweetness automatically invades all of her senses. Her tongue tastes the caramel, and there's something bitter behind it, but it is mostly mellow and buttery. Just like she remembers it. 

And just like that, she's remembering all of it. 

She's flooded with memories from the comfort of home, and about the fun of living. Memories with simpleminded thoughts and unpretentious actions. 

She's back to a place where she isn't scared of speaking her mind all the time, where she isn't afraid of letting people down by her silly behavior, where she isn't terrified of her personality being the embarrassment of those around her. She's back to a place where she knows her friends and family like her for who she is, and where she's proud of her because of that. 

She's full of affectionate touches, sincere words, and genuine feelings.

There's confidence inside her, and an entire world she's willing to find out. 

And when she finally gulps down the simplest sip of caramel coffee, warmth takes over her throat. It reverberates through every inch of her body, and she shivers — her body filling with goosebumps as she closes her eyes to the paradoxical feeling. 

A moment passes, and the weight of a soft textured fabric lands on her back.

"Before you say anything," Harry's deep voice murmurs next to her, and she opens her eyes to look at him. "I'm not wearing it. And it's driving me insane seeing you so cold, so please just wear it."

Aurora glances at her shoulders, finding Harry's checked jacket covering her skin. It feels good, and it feels warm. And she actually doesn't mind it. At all. But there's something about the way Harry has just talked to her that flies directly into Aurora's heart. 

Maybe it's the softness of his voice. Or maybe how worried he sounded. Or maybe the fact that he seems to pay attention to her. Or maybe just because he acts as if he knows her so well. Even after so many years without talking to her. Or seeing her.

Or maybe it's just because she's already on edge because of the damn caramel coffee he bought especially for her.

She doesn't know exactly what it is, but something in his words triggers her into instantly tearing up. She can't help the overreaction, and before she can figure out a way to hide it, the evidence of her crying falls down her cheek, and she's taking a hand up to wipe it off her.

"Auri, hey…" 

Harry's hand lands on her back. The last push she needs to turn into an emotional wreck. A sob bursts out of her chest, and she covers her mouth. Oh my God. 

"Auri, love, I'm sorry… Did I… I can get the jacket back, I didn't—"

She shakes her head and puts the coffee between her thighs, then takes both hands up to her face. She uses her palms to wipe down the tears from her cheeks, and a long and shaky sigh leaves her mouth. 

Harry takes the cup from between her legs, putting it down on the floor before shifting closer to her. His knees bump into the side of her thigh, and the hand that isn't on her back brushes softly her jaw, getting rid of another tear.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she whispers. "You're fine. You didn't… You didn't do anything wrong."

The last thing she wants is for him to see her like that. They haven't seen each other for so long… She doesn't want to welcome him back to her life with tears and drama. She also doesn't want him to feel guilty about something that has nothing to do with him. 

"Ok…" He sounds wary, and while one hand rubs circles on her back, the other grabs her hand. "What's going on, tho? What can I do to help?" 

Once again, Aurora shakes her head. "I'm… I'm fine. I think I'm just… I'm  just exhausted from not sleeping last night."

It isn't a lie, but it also isn't the truth. She doesn't want to admit how lonely she constantly feels, because she wants to learn how to be alone. It doesn't make sense to ask for help when all she wants is to learn how to not need help.

"Why didn't you sleep?" 

"It's nothing. Really… Don't worry about me, I'm just being dramatic right now."

He strokes his thumb up and down on the back of her hand, and Aurora sighs, leaning into the warmth of his jacket. 

Warmth. Apparently that's all she craves now. 

"Of course I worry about you, Auri. And I'm here if you need anything, ok?" 

She nods, but his care for her brings another wave of tears, and she hides behind one hand while the other holds tightly onto him. 

"C'mere," he murmurs, dragging the hand on her back to her shoulder and pulling her to his chest. 

She can't believe the amount of times she's been hugged by him in merely a couple of hours, but she doesn't fight him. In fact, she does quite the opposite: she snuggles into him and cries quietly. And when Harry squeezes her shoulders, she squeezes his fingers in response. 

"Talk to me, love, please. What's going on?"

She sniffs. "Nothing…"

He rubs her arm, softly and tenderly, then carefully adds, "I don't wanna force you, but I can tell something's up and I'm worried about you."

Aurora shakes her head, feeling the desperation in her body slip out of her mouth as she cries to him. "Please don't... I don't want… I don't wanna worry you, ok? I really don't. I don't want to bother you. I'm just… Overreacting. I'll be fine. I'll be—"

"Auri, that's not—"

"Yes. Yes it is. It's just—"

"Stop doing that," he says, squeezing her shoulder. "You keep shutting me off every time I try to explain myself."

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear. I'm sorry—"

"Auri—

"—I'm so sorry—"

"—It's okay—"

"—I really am—"

"Auri, hey!" He pulls back, grabbing her shoulders with both hands and forcing her to look at him. His eyes are warm and caring as he stares inside hers, but there's a frown all over his face that screams something different. Annoyance, perhaps? Or maybe… Frustration? "Listen to me. It's fine, ok? There's no need for you to apologize. It's fine."

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head. "No…"

"Yes, it's fine, Auri."

"It's not—"

"Yes—" 

"No!" Aurora opens her eyes, but tears quickly blurry her sight. She blinks, and before she knows it, she's fully sobbing and crying again. "It's not fine! Ok?! I'm not… I'm not fine, Harry. I'm not! I'm falling apart and I just… It's like I can't stop… And I just… I hate it, ok? I really do… I keep letting everyone down. And I… Fuck… I have no idea how… How am I supposed to spend the entire weekend…. The entire weekend pretending my life isn't a mess right now? I just… I can't… I can't pretend… I'm not… I can't…"

There's only a beat of silence before Harry pulls her into his chest again, squeezing her shoulders while he takes a long, deep, and heavy breath in. Then exhales loudly through his nose. 

"I don't know what's going on with your life right now," he says softly, resting his chin on the top of her head and closing his eyes while she sobs into his chest. "And I know I haven't been around, but I'm here for you, ok?" 

And just like before, Aurora melts into him. She hugs his waist, and leans against his body despite the uncomfortable and public position they're in. Crying all the tears she's been holding in so far. Silently sharing with him all the hurt, the doubts, and the insecurities she's been feeling. All the blaming, the questioning, and the yelling she's been hiding. Letting him absorb the wreck she is turned into after six years of marriage. All the failures. All the mistakes. All the countless "should've done better", and also "should've tried harder".  She lets it all out. With no hold backs, nor regrets.

"And you don't have to pretend, Auri," he adds. "At least not to me. Not even a little bit. Never… Why would you even pretend, huh? I can't be there for you if you don't let me know your life's a mess, and I want to be there for you. You know I do, yeah?"

Aurora can't answer him, not when her body's turning everything inside her into tears and sobbing, but he doesn't seem to be waiting for any words. Nor reactions. He rubs her back gently, while still holding her tightly, and then just keeps talking. 

"Besides, I don't expect anything from you, so—I mean, wait… That's not—Shit. That didn't sound good."

And despite everything, despite all the pain and all the tears and all the fears, a soft and low chuckle escapes from Aurora's chest. 

"That came out wrong… It's not—It's not what I wanted to say. Because of course I expect things from you, like… You're brilliant. You're amazing. You can do amazing things if you want to, ok? I know you can. What I meant is that—That there's no pressure, y'know? That's all. And that no matter what you do or what you say, nothing will change... I mean, I haven't been around, but you don't have to pretend things are good if they aren't, y'know? I'll be your friend even if… I don't know… Even if everything's falling apart… Actually, I want to be there especially when everything's falling apart, ok? So yeah, I just—Jesus Christ." He sighs. "Fuck. Auri please tell me you know what I'm trying to say here because I'm just freaking myself out right now."

Aurora's chuckle turns into laughter, and she nods against his chest, taking one hand up to her face to wipe off the last few tears. 

"I do, yes." She clears her throat, trying to get rid of some of the scratchiness. "Relax. I got it from the beginning." 

Harry smiles and sighs again, squeezing her shoulders. "Could've said something, huh? Stop me there. Save me the embarrassment, maybe?"

"You said I kept cutting you off when you tried to explain yourself, so…" Aurora shrugs. 

"Ohh, I see. Okay." Harry laughs. "We should work on your timing, then. Smartass."

She smiles, and sniffs. "My timing's perfect. It was cute, and I was having fun."

"Of course you were."

Although she can't see him, the smile is obvious in his voice, and she sighs. A long and heavy sigh. One that's strong enough to relax her entire body, and that makes her close her eyes and drop her shoulders. 

"Thank you," she murmurs, still into his chest.

"Yeah," he murmurs back. "Anytime, love." 

There's a pause between them. And then Harry speaks again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, to be honest… At least not right now."

"Ok…" 

Another pause, and then… 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

She takes a deep, long breath in, then exhales while snuggling into his chest.

"Can we just… Stay like this for another minute? Just… Y'know… In silence?"

"Hm… So you want me to shut up, is that it?"

Aurora chuckles. 

"Well, I wouldn't put it like that, but…"

Harry chuckles, too. 

"'S fine. I don't mind. We can stay like this for as long as you want."

And so they do. 

They hug for a while. In silence. A tight embrace that's simple, but that's also intense enough to let her know that he's there for her. 

Aurora can't remember the last time she's been held like this, with honest tenderness and affection. The kind of hug that she doesn't question, and that comes naturally. That feels natural. 

"This was supposed to be a fun weekend," she murmurs, curling a little bit more into him and closing her eyes to avoid facing the world. "Can't believe I'm seeing you for the first time in years and already bringing all this drama to you."

Harry chuckles lightly. 

"Don't be silly, ok? We've been over this already… We're friends and this is what friends are for." He kisses the top of her head, and then rests his cheek against the same place. "Besides, we didn't leave London yet. We can still have plenty of fun."

Aurora sighs. "God. I really need to have some fun. I miss having fun."

"I'll make sure you get more than some."

He squeezes her shoulder, and Aurora smiles.

Still with her eyes closed, and pressing her ear against his chest, she listens to his heartbeat, and to the way he breathes. He isn't calm, but he is steady, and somehow comfortable. So she focuses on him, and only him. As if mimicking his rhythm, or syncing with his pace, could make everything in her life feel better. 

Harry sighs against her, and when the thumping inside him gets faster, she pulls one arm from around his waist to rest her hand on the left side of his chest. She spreads her fingers open where his heart is, and breathes in and out slowly, hoping to calm him down again. 

He takes one hand to her neck, sliding it to the back of her head and tangling his fingers with her hair. 

As he scratches her scalp, Aurora can feel every muscle of her body fully relaxing. It's soothing. And it's safe. There's no other place she would rather be right now, and she's convinced that, as long as she's holding him and he's holding her, she'll finally relax and rest like she hasn't been able to in so long. 

"Have you always been such a great hugger?" she asks, her voice as soft and as slow as her body feels.

Harry clears his throat, then murmurs, "I don't know." 

Aurora hums. 

Another moment passes, until she breaks the silence again.

"I'm sorry for being a shitty friend."

"You're not a shitty friend."

"But I am, tho. I have no idea what's going on with your life… It's been so long and I… I never reached out."

Harry sighs, and shifts on his seat. 

Aurora follows his movements, making sure the hug doesn't end even when he seems to be pulling away. 

He doesn't, though — pull away. He simply leans back on his seat, pulling her along with him. And because she's still comfortable against his chest, she doesn't see the way his face falls, how he presses his lips together in a hard line, or glares at random people passing by.

"It's fine," he eventually says. 

And she's so focused on her own past behavior, that she also doesn't notice the slight change in his voice.

"It's not, though."

"I never reached out either, did I? And I should have… I just… I should have." 

She fidgets with the fabric of his shirt, and although it takes her a moment to answer, the words fly easily out of her mouth. "I'm not sure if it would've made any difference, to be honest… I've pushed everyone away, would've done the same to you." 

"There's no fucking way I would've let you."

"It wouldn't be up to you, tho."

A ding-ding-dong blares from the speakers in the lounge area. 

"Attention passengers on Ryanair flight 1832 to Naples, we are now ready for boarding at gate 56. Passengers on Ryanair flight 1832 to Naples, we are now ready for boarding at gate 56. Boarding is for business class and passengers with…"

The attendant's voice fades as Aurora stops paying attention to it. She blinks her eyes open and, against her wishes, pulls away from Harry's arms.

"Finally," she breathes out.

When she looks at him, she finds nothing but honesty and affection inside his eyes, and it's enough to make her heart skip a beat. 

She curves her lips into a smile, then brings her hands up to wipe the dry tears from her cheeks. "Thank you."

Harry smiles, too. "You've said that already."

"I know." She nods, dropping her hands back to her lap. "I just… Thank you, really. For now and… And for the coffee. Even though I forgot to drink it."

He takes one hand to her face, and puts some of her hair behind her ear.

"We'll have time for another one," he says, then stares into her eyes again. "Yeah?"

"Yeah…" She gulps down, captivated by his gaze. "I think… I think it'd be nice if we could catch up, right? I mean, there's so much about you that I don't know…" 

Harry smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes. 

"There isn't anything crazy to know about me."

Aurora furrows her brows. 

"Well I don't need crazy information, Harry," she scoffs, making sure the tone of her voice is carrying some playfulness while she rolls her eyes. "I just wanna know what's up with your life… Where do you live? Do you have any dogs, or cats? Where do you work? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you have any kids? Are you married? I don't know…"

Harry stares blankly at her for a moment, then looks away, reaching for their bags. 

"Those are too many questions, love."

Aurora shrugs. 

"Well, yeah…" She leans down and picks up her coffee. The cup feels cold, and although she's sad she didn't get to drink it, she wouldn't change anything about what happened in the last… Well, however long it's been since they got here. "I know. I'm curious. That's why I said it'd be nice to catch up."

She stands up and rearranges Harry's jacket, putting it on properly so it doesn't fall from her shoulders, then waits while he stands as well, picking their bags from the seat next to his.

"Ok, yeah. Sure. We can catch up." 

"Wow." She snorts and widens her eyes. "Calm down, now. Don't sound sooo excited, please."

Harry laughs. He puts his own bag on his shoulder, and she takes hers from his hand. 

"I'd love for us to catch up, Auri. I really would."

"Okay…" She narrows her eyes at him, putting her bag on her shoulder and walking towards the line. "Are you hiding something from me?"

Harry follows her, grabbing his boarding pass and passport from the front pocket of his bag. "Why would I hide something from you?"

"I don't know…" She throws the coffee cup away, then adds, "Maybe you're working with the FBI. Or, maybe you're married to someone who works for the FBI. Ohhhhh," — she widens her eyes, looking at him while he leads their way to the gate — "or maybe, you're married to someone who's being investigated by the FBI!"

Harry chuckles through his nose. He sneaks his hands inside Aurora's bag, pulling her boarding pass and passport from it.

"There's no FBI involved, I promise," he says, handing her the items. 

"Hmmm…" She grabs her things from his hand, and nibbles her bottom lip before asking, "But you're married to someone?" 

"Nop." 

"Okay… Dating to someone?"

He shakes his head, and Aurora nods.

"Are relationships a touchy subject, maybe?"

Harry smirks, and that's more than enough to give Aurora an answer, but she still waits for him to say something. 

Anything.

"I broke up with someone not too long ago." He shrugs. "So I'm not in the mood for relationships right now, to be honest. And that includes talking about it." 

The line moves quickly, and they take a step forward. 

"Oh, sure. Yeah. I get it. Of course." Aurora nods. "I'm sorry, tho. Y'know, that it didn't work out."

He shrugs, and they walk again.

"'S fine." 

The shift in his behavior is loud and clear, and it bothers her. The idea of someone breaking Harry's heart deep enough for the pain to overshadow his excitement and dull the brightness of his smile doesn't feel right. So it bothers her. It really does. Whoever it was, he surely deserved someone much better. He surely deserves someone better.

A flight attendant welcomes them with a grin and a cheerful good morning. Aurora smiles back, and hands him her passport and boarding pass, then waits for him to return them. He wishes her a safe flight, and repeats the same process with Harry. 

Aurora waits for him in silence, and once they're both ready to walk through the airgate, she picks the conversation back on. 

"I'm sure you'll find someone, y'know? It won't be that hard. You're still young, and dating was never a problem for you, so…"

There's a pause, and then Harry snorts. "Dating was never a problem for me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Y'know… That's what you, Niall and Jayden used to do all the time, wasn't it? Dating and… Flirting and hooking up with everyone?"

Harry stops walking and turns to stare at her in silence, with widened eyes and flared nostrils. 

Aurora stops, too, biting her lip to hold back her amusement while waiting for him to say something. 

He doesn't, but he eventually laughs, throwing his head back and making her fully smile at him. He shakes his head, and starts walking again.

"Jeez, Auri, I'm so offended right now."

"Oh c'mon…" She chuckles, following his steps. "I meant it as a compliment, okay? Like… Girls were always into you, that's all."

"Not all girls, though."

"Fine." She shrugs. "Ninety-five percent of them, then."

He snorts again. "Ok."

"How old were you when we met? Twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Nineteen."

"Oh shit, really?"

"Yeah, it was my second year. Why?"

"Nothing. I think… For a moment I just forgot you're so much younger than me, that's all."

"C'mon, not so much, I'm almost thirty now."

"Well, yes, but I'm thirty-five."

"See? Same age."

She chuckles. "We're not the same age."

"Ok, but almost."

"Not even close, Harry."

"Oh c'mon! Then what are you now? Ancient? Should I call you grandma?"

She chuckles. "Well… I do feel ancient, to be honest."

He rolls his eyes. "This is ridiculous. You're just as young as I am."

She shakes her head. 

"Yeah, I mean, I know that… But I don't know… I mean, talking to you right now I don't feel like you're younger, y'know? Let alone that much. But also—"

"It's not that much."

"No, I know. But if you think about it, I already got married and I have a four-year-old at home, so like, I really am too old and—What?" Harry is frowning at her, and she tilts her head. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shrugs, then faces forward, away from her. "I'm trying to decide if I should kick your ass right now or just throw you into the ocean later."

She gasps, but then she chuckles. "What? Whyyy?"

Harry raises his eyebrows at her. "I'm only five years younger than you, Auri. Five. It's not even a big deal."

She sighs.

The line in front of them moves, and they move forward as well. 

"Sorry. You're right. Like I said, it doesn't feel like it right now, but I think… I don't know. When you were 19 and I was 24 it was different, yeah? I mean, we were in different stages of our lives. I was meeting Zack and you were—" 

"Yes, I know. I was there, remember?" 

She swallows down, and nods. 

"Sorry," she repeats, much softer this time. 

Aurora walks in silence, staring at the plane at the end of the hallway. 

She pretends to ignore the way Harry keeps glancing at her, or how he rubs the back of his neck, or how he rolls his shoulders. She knows she bothered him, and the idea of causing a scene when they're about to get into a plane feels terrifying. She should've kept her mouth shut, that way she wouldn't have them put them in that situation. Again.

It's like she's been riding on a rollercoaster she never knew she would get into in the first place. Going through multiple sudden changes of speed and directions. Slowly climbing a steep slope and painfully anticipating the fall before she actually drops directly into the ground. Holding herself during the unexpected tight turns and sharp curves, and gasping for air at every inverted loop. Experiencing the ups and downs of gravity as she's weightless and happy at the top of the hill, then all of a sudden her own personality is pushing her back down to reality. And by the end of it, the back of her throat hurts, her stomach feels funny, and there's just heaviness all over her body. 

"Hey," Harry calls. 

He shifts his bag from one shoulder to the other and puts his arm around her, pulling her closer even though they're still walking. He kisses the top of her head, and keeps his lips there as he speaks. "'M sorry. Shouldn't have cut you off like that."

Aurora shrugs. "It's fine." 

"It's not. We were just joking and I… I took it personally, 'm sorry."

He kisses her head, again, and her lashes flutter. 

She knows he's sorry, but she doesn't know what to say to him. She knows how easy it is for her to forgive when she shouldn't, and how many times in the last six years she believed in empty apologies. 

So although she knows, she isn't sure she can trust herself. 

She hasn't been trusting herself for a while now. 

A new flight attendant welcomes them into the plane, and they both pull away from each other.

Aurora walks in front of Harry, and she does her best to smile genuinely at the cheerful woman that's wishing them a good morning and a good flight. 

She holds the strap of her bag tightly on her shoulder, and walks through the narrow carpeted aisle, focusing on the numbers and letters above the seats as if she's looking for specific ones. She pauses here and there for other passengers that are getting settled, and it's only past the emergency door that Harry speaks again.

"Should we sit here?" he asks. He's pointing to the opposite side where she's facing, so she turns around, finding three empty seats.  

"Okay." 

She nods, and tilts her chin up to check the space to put her bag. Harry is quicker, though, because he is already closing his fingers around the strap on her shoulder and pushing it away from her arm.

"I'll put our bags together, yeah?" 

She doesn't want to fight him about it, so she simply thanks him with the best smile she can offer and allows him to easily grab her duffel bag. 

She slides through the two empty seats to reach the one by the window, not waiting any longer to secure the seat belt and make herself comfortable. Once she's settled, she clasps her hands together, and takes a deep breath in. Her chin trembles, and she looks down, biting the inside of her cheek. She doesn't want to cry again. She really doesn't want to cry again.

Also, she needs to sleep. She must get some sleep. There is absolutely no way she is going to handle spending the entire day awake, and if she doesn't sleep now, she'll only get an opportunity again at the yacht — meaning she won't get to spend any time with her friends. 

Harry sits next to her and puts his own belt on, then turns off his phone and shoves it into his pocket. Aurora doesn't look at him, but he turns sideways anyway, leaning his shoulder on the back of the seat and blocking them from any possible curious eyes. 

He grabs one of her hands from her lap and takes her fingers to his mouth, placing a long kiss to her knuckles before sighing. 

"Auri, love," his voice is soft, and a whisper for only them to hear, "I really am sorry." 

She nods, taking her free hand to wipe a tear before it could roll down her cheek.  

Shit.

"Please, don't cry."

"Mhm."

"Auri… Look at me, please."

She shakes her head, then. Because she knows that she'll fall apart all over again if she looks at him.

God, she's so tired.

"I didn't…" she murmurs, then takes a deep breath and tries again. "I didn't mean anything bad by the age thing… I promise."

"I know that, love. Of course I know," he says, pressing another kiss to her hand. "Fuck. I know. We were just joking. And I'm not mad about it, I promise. I mean, I was actually a stupid hormonal teenager back when we met, so yeah… You're right, things were different. But please, Auri, I hate that I made you cry just because I… Shit, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It wasn't about you, I promise."

She stares at her knees and nods, because she knows he is. And she also knows she can trust him, which is probably why she — finally — honestly blurts out, "I keep messing everything up, y'know? All the time."

He brushes his thumb on the back of her hand, then murmurs back to her, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just… I keep letting everyone down, and I hate it, but it's like I can't stop it. And I mean, to be honest I don't… I don't even recognize myself anymore. I used to have so much fun, and I felt so different about life… And I treated people around me so differently… And now I'm just… I don't know… I don't know why I say things, or why I do things. I don't know what I want, or what to do with my life… And I feel so… Lonely… All the damn time. But I get why I'm lonely, y'know? I mean it's true that I don't know how to be anything else besides being Noah's mum. And I'm so insensitive to other people because of that, and I keep saying things I shouldn't and I just… I look back and I realize how I pushed everyone away… How I… I don't know, I'm so tired of this. I'm just so tired of myself."

There is a pause between them, mostly because Harry's waiting for the people in front of them to settle and stop prying at their conversation. 

It's good, though, because it gives her time to catch her breath again.

And then, Harry leans deeper into his seat, still holding tightly to her hand.

"Is that how he made you feel?"

Aurora furrows her brows. "What—Who?"

"Zack. Is that how Zack made you feel?"

"I… No! Why—I mean, I'm just… I'm talking about myself." 

"Auri, c'mon… I know you're talking about yourself, but I can read between the lines."

She closes her eyes and takes her hand up to her face, rubbing her forehead while she prepares herself to just keep blurting out what her mind is begging her to tell him.

"I think…" she says, dropping her hand back to her lap and blinking. "I think he really messed me up, y'know?"

Harry sighs. 

It takes him a moment to say something. A moment that feels really, really long to her. 

And then… 

"Fuck." He puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her to his chest, murmuring while resting his cheek on the back of her head, "I'm sorry."

She shrugs, snuggling into him and searching for his heartbeat, just like before.

"'S not your fault."

"But I should've been there for you."

"You wouldn't have known." 

"Still… This isn't how it was supposed to be." 

God, she's so tired… 

Her entire body is heavy, and she doesn't even know what's happening around them anymore. She can't even make sense of their conversation anymore. 

Harry feels too cozy, though, and she knows she's about to have the comfiest sleep of her life — she can feel it.  

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"I got divorced six months ago."

Harry closes his eyes, then rearranges himself on his seat and pulls her closer to him.

"I know."

.

.

.

"You know? How?" 

"Niall."

"Oh. Okay?" 

"I texted him while you were getting your coffee."

She places her hands on his hips, holding her weight to pull away from him. 

Harry doesn't let her, though, squeezing her inside of his arms and locking her in. 

"Please stay," he murmurs. 

And Aurora doesn't fight him. She just relaxes again — she relaxes and listens to him. 

"You weren't wearing a ring… And I could tell something was up, so I… I asked him. That's all. Sorry if I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. I needed to know."

"Oh…" The concept of time is foggy inside her mind, but she's pretty sure a few seconds go by before she speaks again. "'S okay, I guess. I mean… Niall knows about the divorce, but he doesn't… He doesn't know the whole story. He doesn't know how bad it was."

"Does anyone know?"

"You?" She chuckles, but it's humorless, because she knows that not even Harry truly knows. "I just… I haven't been able to talk about it yet, or like… Process it, I think. I don't know. I keep justifying him a lot, which I'm learning it's something I shouldn't do."

He makes his cheek comfortable on top of her head, then takes one hand to play with her hair, scratching her scalp. "It can't be easy to go through something like this on your own, tho."

"I know…" She closes her eyes, appreciating his affectionate touch. "My mum's helping me a lot… She had to go back home now, but she spent over a month with me. Makes sure I don't skip therapy… Stuff like that."

"Hmm…" Harry says, and his voice echoes inside her body. "Always liked her. Smart one."

Aurora curls her mouth up. "Yeah…" 

Another moment goes by, and Aurora is filled with lightness as her body slowly drifts into sleep. 

"Thank you for telling me this, Auri."

"Mhmm… It's weird… To like, talk about it."

"I'll always listen. Whenever you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

"Thank you… 'M really tired, tho... And I think my brain is going to explode…"

Harry chuckles. "Get some sleep, yeah? I'll wake you up when we're about to land."

"'Mkay." She hugs his waist, and nuzzles against his chest. "Can't believe this all happened and we didn't even leave the country yet."

"Tell me about it."

"Mm… 'Kay… I'll sleep now… You're comfy… And I think… I feel drunk…"

Chuckling again, Harry presses a kiss on the top of her head, then slides down a bit on his seat, and she cuddles a little bit more into him.

"Ok love," he says. "You can relax now, I got you." 

And although Aurora doesn't answer, she knows he does. 

She doesn't need Harry to wake her up. 

Her brain drifts back to consciousness by itself, slowly making her aware of her surroundings way before the plane is even close to landing. 

She's warm, because of Harry's arms wrapped around her shoulders, but also because of his jacket covering her body. Her face is pressed against his shirt, and once again she's breathing from his skin. He still smells good — like a fresh shower — but now it's also mixed with a little bit of sweat, so it's somehow even better than before. 

It's hot. He's hot. Her insides feel hot.

She's also comfortable — so, so comfortable. It feels like she just took the best nap of her entire life. Like she's enveloped by a sense of calm and peace, a feeling that she doesn't want at all to end. Snuggled into his chest while his fingers keep playing with her hair, tracing random patterns on the back of her head. The movements are sweet, sweet enough to tempt her to go back to sleep. And she almost does. 

Except she can't. Not anymore. 

Because above all that, she can tell she's also kind of desperate. Clingy. Needy. Hugging his waist as if their flight landing in Italy depended on how tight her grip is. Both of her legs over his left thigh. His strong, firm thigh. She's holding onto him like a baby koala. A troubled one. A baby koala that's craving to be held by someone. Anyone. And as if she's terrified of the idea of being left behind while her mind shuts off from the real world. 

And maybe she is. Who knows.

She always liked to cuddle, and she hasn't properly cuddled in a really long time, so it's not a surprise. Still, it very quickly becomes embarrassing, and certainly not how Harry imagined things to go when, earlier in the airport, he offered his shoulder for her to take a quick nap. 

He offered his shoulder, not his entire body, for fucks sake!

So, against all wishes, Aurora stirs and groans — mostly because her mind is battling between sleeping for just two more minutes or acknowledging the reality of the world she's in — then pulls away from him. 

"Hmm…" She takes her hands up to her face, and rubs the last traces of sleepiness away from her puffy eyes, then sits back on her seat. "What time is it?" 

Next to her, Harry moves as well, withdrawing his arms from around her shoulders and placing his hands on his lap. 

"Must be around ten thirty now… Last time I checked was ten fifteen."

He sounds calm, so calm that she can't make any emotion out of his voice, so she turns her head to look at him.

Harry looks fully awake. Well rested. Peaceful. Soft. The only sign of him turning into her personal pillow are the wrinkles all over his shirt, but everything else looks… Perfect. Like heaven. He looks like heaven.   

"Hi…" He curls one side of his mouth up, and Aurora smiles, too.

"Hi…"

Only then it occurs to her that she's been staring at him, and she looks away, taking her hands to smooth out her hair then fix her dress.

"Did you sleep well?"

She nods, and takes his jacket off, instead using it like a blanket to cover her chest.

"Um, yeah… I did. Thanks. And thanks for… You know… Letting me crush on you? I mean, it probably wasn't comfortable for you, so… Yeah, thanks."

Harry scoffs, shuffling down on his seat and spreading his legs as wide open as he can. 

"Are you kidding me?" He takes both arms up and places his hands behind his head, resting on top of the palm of his hands. "You're a great cuddler. Went straight to my top five of all time."

The playfulness is clear in his words, which is why Aurora chuckles. Still, one question is loud and clear inside her mind: who are the other four great cuddlers? And most importantly, why isn't she his favorite one? 

The thoughts bring an uncomfortable feeling to her stomach, and she shifts on her seat. 

"That's kind of you to say, but you should see me during winter in the middle of the night… I'm like a baby koala and it's not a very pretty sight." 

"Huh." He smirks, and lifts his eyebrows. "Is that an offer?"

Aurora snorts and rolls her eyes, feeling her cheeks burn before she looks away. "Shut up."

Harry laughs, and just like that, everything between them goes back to normal. 

Getting into conversation with him is easy. Neither of them have seen their friends in a while, so they distract themselves by reminiscing old stories and laughing at silly things they used to do together. They also talk about Italy, about how neither of them have been to the country before, and how it's been a dream of both of them. They bond over small details, and find connections over silly things. And it's exactly what Aurora needs, as she finds out after minutes and minutes of light conversation and genuine giggles. 

It is only when they're about to land that her face falls again. 

Fully awake, the airplane movements become way more obvious than they did when taking off. And as soon as the belt sign goes on, and the pilot announces they're about to descend to Naples, Aurora's heartbeat speeds up.

She straightens up and leans her back fully against her seat, looking through the window at the bright sky. 

"Are you ok?" Harry asks. 

"Mhm…" She nods, and doesn't take her eyes off from the view. "Just… I don't like this part very much, that's all."

"Wanna hold my hand?" 

It is a nice offer, but one she doesn't think she should accept. So she doesn't. And as the plane gets closer and closer to land, every movement becomes even more clear. When it shakes, when it turns, when it's getting ready to touch the ground. 

She holds herself until the last minute. She holds herself tightly and firmly. Until it becomes too much, and one specific up and down of the airplane has her reaching for his hand.

It's like Harry is already waiting for her, to be honest, because she finds him quickly. Her sweaty and cold palm meets his warm one, and she turns her head to look at him. 

He's already watching her, and as soon as their eyes meet, his face lights up with a smile. 

Her belly quivers, and her chest tightens. 

"It'll be over in a minute," he says, squeezing her hand.

She nods, and swallows down, because it's the only thing she can do right now. She knows what he's talking about, and she knows it's true — they'll land, and everything will pass. 

Although something tells her that, whatever she's feeling right now, will not go away. It won't be over in a minute. It won't be over even when they're out and away from the plane. 

In fact, she's starting to believe that, as soon as Harry is next to her, looking at her like that, the fluttering in her stomach will never go away. 

if you've made it here, say caramel coffee :')

also, thank you for reading.

dani :)

PART THREE

[sqyyadina]

A JOINT PRAYER.

Pairing: Lorraine Warren X Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Tags: fluff, first kiss, period - typical homophobia.

Summary: You weren't raised to worship any God, but Lorraine Warren is starting to make you believe.

Author’s Note: I'd take a bullet for this woman. This is also on my AO3!

“We’d like to take you to the movies tonight. To thank you.”

Her voice is as honey as her perfectly curled hair, and as Lorraine hands you a porcelain cup of tea, you revel in the way your hands briefly ghost past each other.

Though you’ve worked as a secretary for the Warrens for well over a year now, you can’t help but feel intimidated as you sit on their plush couch, nursing your tea, the smiling couple sitting beside you. Their combined gaze is nearly suffocating, as if you are consumed by a demon of your own and they’re trying to rid you of it.

“Thank me? Whatever for?” You ask gently, head cocked to the side in question while you sip on the chamomile you’ve been offered.

“You’ve been a great help to us as of late.” Ed adds, a protective hand patting his wife’s thigh. You hate to admit it, you do, he’s truly a lovely man, but every time Ed begins to speak, you just wish he was out of the picture entirely. You wish that could have been your thumb rubbing circles into Lorraine’s plaid skirt; your lips pressing a kiss to her forehead wrinkle every time she got too focused on her Bible.

But it wasn’t you.

It was him, and it would always be him. You saw the way they looked at each other, the way he sang to her when he thought they were alone in the office. They were practically destined to be together. It’s cliché to say that it made you sick, but there genuinely were nights in which you felt feverish over the fact that Lorraine Warren would never be yours.

“Oh, you flatter me…” You hum back, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ears. “Really, all I do is organize files… how much of a help can that be?”

You’re much more sheepish than the two sitting across from you, and it shows. Lorraine, ever the investigator, the curious mind, always searching across the face of the person she’s speaking to as if it’s a map into their soul, picks up on your shyness immediately. She always does.

You know that Lorraine has a nurturing spirit, but you rarely expect her comforting gestures. That’s what makes it so special. That’s why it gives you pause when she leans forward to press a warm hand to your knee.

“Please, don’t deprecate yourself.” Her tone is stern, like she truly means to command you into being kinder to yourself, but her voice is so delicate and her smile so warm and inviting that you soften into her minimal touch and nod your head. “Really, you have no idea how having you around has improved our lives.”

You feel your face turn hot at that last sentence, and you fail to maintain eye contact with the older woman any longer. Gently bouncing you heeled foot against the ground, you giggle lightly, and bat a hand as if to dismiss what she’s said.

“You’re too kind…” You hum back, slowly lifting your head again to meet her gaze once again. At this point, you’ve all but forgotten that Ed is even present. “I’m not sure I believe you, but I’d love to go to the movies.”

It’s without pause that Ed claps his hands together and rises to his feet. He says something, quite loud, but you quickly forget what it is. It startles you, to say the least, and you jump back a bit, your tea threatening to slosh onto your blouse. You notice that Lorraine’s hand stays put on your thigh, though, and only leaves once it’s given you a few gentle pats to settle your nerves. She stands as well, always following her husband’s footsteps. You quickly join them, always following Lorraine’s.

“Let’s see something scary!” Ed grins, searching around the room for a newspaper that may have the local theater’s lineup.

“Oh, do you not get enough of a fright out of our daily lives?” Lorraine jokes with that tender laugh of hers, patting her husband on the back and looking at the paper over his shoulder.

“No, I don’t.” Ed replies simply, and plants a kiss on Lorraine’s cheek.

It makes your stomach turn.

“What would you like to see, dear?” You realize that she’s turned her attention back to you. You stumble forward, as if both of your legs had gone numb in the few moments that you had spent sitting on the couch.

You really do hate to agree with Ed, but most of the movies offered sound utterly boring. The thought did cross your mind that watching a horror film would allow you to look to Lorraine for comfort under the guise of fear, which immediately influenced your decision. Sufficed to say, the Warrens’ ghost stories had both satiated your hunger for fright, and completely desensitized you to it, yet you figured you could act scared enough to win a little more of Lorraine’s touch.

Your first few weeks, of course, you had been absolutely terrified of the previously haunted artifacts that your employers always brought home, but with the fervor of their exorcisms and the frequency of their jobs, there isn’t a whole lot that you hadn’t seen nor heard. You had become primarily neutral when it came to horror, but maybe that was because of Lorraine’s calming presence and Ed’s story-telling ability that made the murderous dolls much less terrifying.

“I think I’d like something scary. It is almost Halloween, after all.” You smile to the older woman before pointing to a certain line of text. “This one has the word ‘massacre’ in the title… I don’t believe you can get much scarier than that!”

Ed quickly makes his approval known, and Lorraine playfully rolls her eyes at him before giving his arm a light squeeze.

“I suppose that’s alright.” She hums, her eyes focusing on the page for a second longer. You’ve always known Lorraine to be the bookkeeper of their operation, and suspected she was always the one in charge of appointment dates and important phone numbers. When she rattled off a list of movie times, Ed already having moved to re-read the sports section, your suspicions were proven right.

‘How about eight?” you muse, looking down at your wrinkled dress and chipping nail polish. “It will give me time to change. And fix my hair… and my nails…” You had expected the weather to be bearable this time of year, but you had been burdened by particularly warm weather that caused your hair to frizz uncontrollably. You certainly shouldn’t have chanced long sleeves.

Lorraine, leaving her husband to his muttering about the Yankees, took the half step closer to place her hand on your shoulder. It was shockingly warm, but not at all a warm that you disliked. A comforting warm, that you could enjoy even on a day as sweltering as this one.

“You look beautiful.” She hums, nearly whispering it, as if she doesn’t want anyone else in the world to hear. “As always.” Lorraine adds before disappearing behind your back. She’s picked up your now empty teacup and makes her way to living room door. “We’ll pick you up at seven thirty.” She winks in your direction before exiting the room.

Your knees feel numb, and you try your hardest to wipe the dumb smile off of your face, but it doesn’t disappear, even as you crawl into your car and turn on the radio that just happens to be playing some cheesy love song.

The honking from outside startles you. That’s easy to say; there’s not a lot that doesn’t startle you. You just hadn’t expected them to be so punctual.

You had been sitting in front of your mirror for a little over an hour now, staring at every little detail of your visage to make sure everything was just right, even down to the placement of your beauty marks. It was honestly quite hard to focus, what with Lorraine’s compliment ringing in your ears. You didn’t even need to apply any rouge to your cheeks, they were still so hot.

Now donning a shorter sleeved blouse and a much lighter weight skirt, hair re-curled and nails painted perfectly, you cheerfully snatched your bag and raced out the front door.

Wiggling into the back seat of their fancy new Chevy that Ed couldn’t stop bragging on, you shoot a smile at Lorraine, who returns it through the rearview mirror. You quickly look away after that, yet you can still feel her eyes bore into you. You might just be making that up, but you’re far too scared to glance back up and check.

The drive is primarily quiet, save for Ed’s singing along to the radio, and you even find yourself enjoying his presence for once. He really does sound like Elvis when he tries hard enough.

By the time you arrive at the theater, your heart is racing. Something about sitting in Lorraine’s presence for more than ten minutes at a time causes you a great deal of panic. Despite knowing the woman all this time, you still find her completely enthralling, yet endlessly terrifying.

When she exits the car first to open your door with a playful smile, you feel your pounding heart drop to your stomach. You felt like you were on a date, except your date had brought her husband along. Plus, there’s simply no reality in which said date reciprocates the ways in which you are feeling for her. It’s a very hard pill for you to swallow, but you’ll need to keep reminding yourself that you in fact are not going steady with this woman, but are in fact her employee, and should be furiously professional tonight, no matter what.

It's when you step out of the car that you deeply regret your outfit decision for the second time today. The day had quickly turned to night before you had realized, and the evening’s chill was starting to settle in. You hug yourself tightly as the three of you enter the theater, trying desperately to distract yourself from the cold by figuring out what you’d like to eat.

Your unease must’ve been immediately noticed by the woman that notices absolutely everything that happens around her, because it’s within seconds that you feel a sweater draped over your shoulders. You perk up and whip your head to the side only to catch Lorraine smoothing down your collar.

“I brought an extra, just in case.” She winks at you again, a knowing smirk on her lips. She must’ve picked up on how haphazardly you tend to make decisions, and you appreciated it more than Lorraine could ever know. It wasn’t often that people remembered much about you, so for her to be so prepared for you made your chest swell.

Lorraine sweater is just heavy enough to feel like a hug, and it smells heavenly. Just like her. You don’t want to seem like a weirdo, but you’d be perfectly content to spend the next hour with your nose buried in the soft material, surrounded by the warm vanilla scent of whatever expensive perfume Lorraine wears. Or maybe she just naturally smells that good. You wouldn’t put it past her.

Your attention turns back to the giant menu board as you pull your arms through the sleeves of the sweater, and right away you could feel your brain go silent. It was impossibly difficult for you to decide, especially when there were so many options. That, paired with the steep prices and the very lackluster salary you make as the Warrens’ glorified secretary, make your brain completely stop its functioning for a second. Your worry makes its way into your hands, which fiddle with the sleeves of the sweater that are just an inch too long for your arms.

Lorraine, yet again magically anticipating your every need, places a firm hand on the small of your back, lowering herself to practically purr into your ear.

“Do you need help choosing?” She’s just close enough that her voice, as low as it is, drowns out all of the madness of the bustling theater, and the commotion inside your mind. `

You nod up to her, chewing on your lower lip as the two of you glance over the menu together.

“I can’t decide…” you begin, eyebrows furrowed as you dart over the row of boxes of candy before you. “… between chocolate or popcorn.”  You’re getting dangerously close to the front of the line now, and it’s really beginning to wear on your nerves, but Lorraine’s ringed fingers lightly rubbing into your back is calming you tenfold.

The taller woman laughs gently, and you wince a little in fear that she’s making fun of you for having difficulty with something so simple, but you’ve never known Lorraine to be a cruel woman, so the thought is easily dismissed.

“Silly girl.” She says gingerly, giving you a light pat before dropping her hand. “Get both. I’ll make sure Ed pays for it.”

Your cheeks burn once again, and while you yearn for the feeling of her hand to replace itself anywhere on you, you find that Lorraine is already a gift from God and there’s no use praying for any more from the woman.

“Thank you!” you giggle softly, returning the clairvoyant’s playful smile with one of your own as you step forward to the concession counter.

Ed begins rattling off all the things that he wants, and it’s yet again that you remember he’s even there. You figure that if a man as boisterous as Ed Warren can be so easily forgotten in your mind by the likes of his wife, you must truly be under a spell. You shyly give your order when Lorraine ushers you in front of her, hands fiddling with your sleeves again. When you begin to reach for your purse, a hand lightly swats at your own. You really don’t find it necessary for the people that already pay your living wage to give you anymore, and yet you don’t deem it possible that Lorraine will let you pay for anything yourself.

With treats and tickets in hand the three of you make your way into the theater, Ed taking the exact seats that you would have chosen yourself. It’s by a miracle— or rather very careful planning on your behalf— that you’re sitting next to Lorraine, with Ed on her other side. You silently cheer yourself on for what you believe to be such careful maneuvering, because there is just no way in the world that you would spend the next two hours sitting next to someone who will probably talk over the entire movie anyway.

You settle in as the opening credits of the film begin, and right away you feel anxious. Even in a room full of people and the ever so comforting presence of your favorite demonologist by your side, it’s hard not to be scared in a dark room watching a movie about a psycho killer. Your leg begins to bounce nervously as you begin shoveling popcorn in your mouth, anticipating the many scares that are soon to come your way.

And they do come, in multitudes. You’re jumping out of your seat nearly every minute that goes by. The Warrens, as cemented in their occupations as they are, jump a few times as well, which comes as quite the comfort. You had seen them frightened before, when assessing houses for possible spirits, but neither seemed to be as much of a scaredy cat as you.

You’re granted the solace of Lorraine’s hand when she offers it to you about halfway through the movie. It’s after you jump at the sudden sound of a chainsaw revving up, and she must take pity on you, but you don’t care about the implication because you take the hand as quickly as it’s offered. As you’re sitting to her left, you notice that she’s come to the theater with her signature rosary wrapped around her hand. The cool beads do give you a bit of alarm when you first feel them, but then you realize that it only comes as added protection. You’re not sure what the power of the Spirit can do for you in this moment, but you’re very happy that Lorraine is always prepared against whatever dark forces she’s prepared against.

Sitting next to her, hand-in-hand, Lorraine’s gravitational pull is so strong that eventually you find yourself fully leaned against her arm, gripping her hand for dear life. It doesn’t seem to bother her one bit, and if the lights were any brighter, you’d be able to notice a smile planted firmly on her rosy lips.

Just as you feel yourself in a safe position, completely relaxed and feeling entirely safe (or as safe as you can feel during a movie like this), the movie’s third act kicks into gear and you feel your heart start to beat about a million beats a second. You feel a wave of panic wash over you, and it came out of absolutely nowhere. You swallow hard a few times, looking around the theater to keep yourself calm, to remind yourself that there’s not really a chainsaw wielding maniac running around the place, but it doesn’t do much to settle your nerves.

Before you even notice the stinging in your eyes, before you can stop from embarrassing yourself, your cheeks are wet with tears. You swipe at them a few times with your free hand, hoping to not draw too much attention to yourself as you begrudgingly pull yourself from Lorraine’s grasp.

“I… I’ll be right back.” You whisper next to her ear, praying to God that she didn’t notice the crack in your voice.

You can hear her whisper something back, but not well enough to register it, because you’re already out of your seat and rushing to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, you assess the damage to your makeup.

Your mascara has run down to your neck, and your lips are all smudged from your nervous popcorn eating.

… And you had left your purse, with all of your extra makeup and tissues, beneath your seat.

You felt on the verge of a breakdown, but the very last thing you wanted to do right now was to sit on the floor of this horribly rotten bathroom and cry until your eyes gave out.

You had been staring at yourself in the mirror between broken sobs for God knows how long until you heard someone else enter. Deeply ashamed of your appearance, you turned your back to the door, using a damp towel to try and clean up your makeup.

Then you heard a lock click.

But it was unlike the lock of a stall door.

Then the echoing tap of a pair of kitten heels.

You tense up, too scared of embarrassment to turn around to face whatever movie attendee, or, as you now feared, possible murderer, you were now trapped in this bathroom with.

That’s when you felt the hand press against your back.

“Are you alright?”

That voice was too kind to belong to a murderer.

“Lorraine!” You nearly scream, tossing a hand over your heart to clutch the imaginary pearls that you couldn’t even afford if you tried. “My goodness, you startled me!” You laugh softly, sniffling while you turn to a sink to wash your hands. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She hums, voice barely above a whisper. She’s standing right behind you now.

You’re awfully embarrassed to find that there are no more paper towels in the bathroom, and you have to wipe your hands on your skirt, but Lorraine doesn’t seem to notice.

No, her attention is solely on your face.

Her hand lifts up to push a wayward curl behind your ear.  It lingers there for a moment, smoothing down the rest of your hair. Her other hand sneaks its way around your waist, resting just below your belt.

“I just wanted to check on you.” She flashes you that oh-so very endearing smile in the mirror, and lightly runs her thumb below your eyes, wiping away the last remnants of your tears.

You swallow hard, chancing a glance up to her only to miss the woman’s gaze, as her eyes are now glued to your cheek, then your neck. She’s petting your hair, and each stroke is sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh no, no…  I’m alright…” you manage to mumble out, your voice a mere breathe that hitches when Lorraine’s hands maneuver you to turn to face her.

“Good.” She purrs, leaning in until your foreheads nearly meet. “I wouldn’t want my baby to get too scared.”

Dear God.

You didn’t often take His name in vain, but this felt an appropriate time to do so.

Your heart is beating so hard that you’re worried you may pass out. 

She called you her baby. You were hers.

Your body betraying you, you practically melt into the taller woman, your hands finding themselves on her hips, holding onto the material of her skirt for dear life.

Lorraine calculates, as is her way, but only for a moment, before her hand slides down to gently grasp your cheek and pull you closer into her.

You gasp into her, her lips latching onto your own before you can even remind yourself that you were meant to remain professional tonight. It seems you’re well past the concept of professionalism by now.

It takes you a moment, a very brief moment, to soften into her kiss. You’re like putty in her hands, molding into the curve of her chest and pressed so hard against her that you’re sure you’ve become one being.

But you haven’t, and before you know it, she’s pulled away.

It takes everything within you to not whine and fuss at her for being so rude as to pull herself away from you.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” She says rigidly, fixing her hair in the mirror with one hand, the other still latched onto your hip. “But you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to.” She laughs a little, finally turning back to meet your gaze.

“I…” You’re at a loss for words. Never in a million years would you have expected for Lorraine Warren to waltz in and kiss you out of the blue like that. You must have truly racked up your good karma with the Lord, because this was enough to be considered a miracle. “I… I’ve also… wanted to… with you.” You stutter out, brain just barely conscious enough to put together a string of words.

Lorraine laughs her beautiful laugh again, her hand returning to caress your cheek.

You shut your eyes tight, laying all your weight into her hands. A thought crosses your mind – that she very well may be testing you – trying to sniff you out for being a freak – that there very well be someone right outside that door ready to ship you off to the loony bin –

That thought disappears almost immediately once Lorraine leans down to press her lips to yours again, this time much more confidently.

Her hands wander down to your hips once again, and yours are gripping into her skirt so hard that you’re sure you’ve left permanent wrinkles in the fabric. It’s impossible for you to be any closer to her now, and yet she’s still pulling you tighter, lips coaxing small whimpers from your own.

You’ve gone completely lightheaded now, the lack of oxygen making you a bit dizzy on your feet. Luckily, you’re so sustained by Lorraine’s embrace that there’s just no chance of you falling over.

Her hands threaten lower, her kisses become sloppier, her thigh situating itself between your legs so that you can press your weight there and feel a shock through your entire system unlike you’ve ever experienced before. Lorraine’s whispering some string of messy whispers. Maybe a prayer, much like the one you’re reciting in your own head for someone, anyone, to make this moment last until your dying breath.

Your joint prayer comes to a halt when you’re so rudely interrupted by an angry knock on the door. Lorraine quickly pulls away from you and immediately begins wiping her smudged makeup in the mirror.

You’re stuck in space, stood blinking, mouth hanging open, feet unsure of where to take you.

“Go get in a stall.” Lorraine commands, a gentle finger wiping at your tongue to collect all of the saliva that you had produced in the midst of your affair. She flashes you a sickeningly sweet look before turning you around and patting you towards the stall, where you quickly hide, being able to take her command even though you’re sure your brain can’t conjure any other actions.

Lorraine’s heels tap towards the door, and where she exclaims how sorry she is, how silly she must be for locking the door behind her. Her voice is so pure, so normal. You’re shocked that she can find herself so calm after an event that had nearly introduced you to your maker.

When you hear a stall door click shut, you make your escape, checking your appearance in the mirror just in case. You certainly look bewildered, a little frazzled, but nothing you can’t excuse under the guise of a scary movie.

When you return to your seat, Lorraine is sat with her hand in Ed’s, her eyes glued to the screen. You sit reluctantly, reaching for your popcorn.

It’s less than a minute before she has removed her hand from her husband’s and has given it back to you.

You’re smiling much too brightly, and you can tell that your clairvoyant is smiling just the same. You’re too focused on the way that her hand feels in your own to pay any attention to the God-forsaken movie playing in front of you.

[heartfullofleeches]

yes please dear god smile reader is baby

[Very baby. Here's how Yan Scientist and their slime formally met]

"Subject 43? Payment for yesterday's efforts."

"An apple....but you said I could go home."

Feeding day - as if their headache couldn't get any worse. Like common livestock, their possessions squealed and whined about the most senseless things. Pleading for testing to cease; begging to be returned to their families when it was their love ones who sold them to begin with. The scientist would sooner snip out their tongues if it meant a moment of peace, but they were not a tyrant - plus verbal records of their subjects experiences was easier to stomach at night than written. The audio logs had lulled them to sleep better than any pill or liquid could.

"I said it was a possibility - if you did what I asked properly. You may have killed your cellmate, but you did not bring me their eyes. A shame really. I took the time out of my day to prepare your meal by hand. Ah - well, there's someone who will appreciate my efforts more. Tell me, tuna or ham?"

A wet gurgle sounds from the scientist's pocket."

"Both? You greedy devil. I suppose you do deserve something special for putting up with the same pains that I do."

The scientist picks up two sandwiches and smushes them together as the mass in their pocket becomes denser; gooey tendrils slithering up the length of their coat and crawling onto their shoulder as they lift their hand. The blob sucks up the sandwiches into its gelatinous body, wiggling with delight as they're broken down and absorbed into its structure. The scientist pats the gel with one finger causing it to vibrate more violently resulting in a breathy laugh from its owner.

"Alright, we have more subjects to feed. Come on, You - you too."

The scientist snaps their fingers at the Henchman wheeling the cart who closes the cell door as they both exit. The slime creeps down their shirt and through their sleeve as they walk, resting in the scientist's palm. A marvel their little companion was. They wished they had the honor of creating it, but it's origins were a mystery even to them. The scientist found the creature munching away on the undissolved bones of a past test subject. From numerous experiments, the scientist discovered their new lab partner could not only breakdown organic compounds, but most non living object too and had a choice on what it consumed. It made for the perfect little helper to get rid of all the dead bodies and those who oppose them. The best part about the slime was that it had no mouth and therefore the most tolerable member of the team.

The scientist's smile melts as they enter the next cell. The stress that had fled them by the usage of their slime as a stress toy skyrocketed seeing the act of utter betrayal pointed at them. A lackey, standing over a motionless subject - gun raised at their employer. The scientist sighs.

"Please remove your mask."

The Henchman does as told. Figures - there was only one other person the scientist trusted with the codes. They supposed trying to make this a family business was a poor decision.

"Emery - this has got to stop."

A chuckle. "Does it really?"

"You won, just let him go. I know you didn't have the best upbringing, but he still your -"

Emery grits their teeth, squirming the slime so hard it slithers out of their grip. "You don't know shit. If it makes you feel any better, I haven't actually done anything to him - yet. Just locked him down here, with all the others nobody would care to miss. There is no persuading me on this. If you have nothing else to say - do it."

Their Henchman reaches for his gun, Emery rests their hand over his. Through clouded view and reasoning, the figure steadies their gun. They look away, unable to look as they pull the trigger on the once innocent child they knew. Emery doesn't flinch as it fires - a teal web covering the entirety of their chest and dissolving the bullet as soon as it hits. Their attacker looks on in horror, but before they can do anything Emery takes their henchman's gun as their own and fires back, bullet piercing their heart. Emery's head falls, expressionless eyes gazing out at the person left alive - mouthing two words.

"Your fault."

Emery exhales, placing a hand over their chest and gathering the slime into one ball. "One thing after another. Now I have to fire a new head. Eat your meal and return to me when you're done."

They lower the slime to the ground who plops out on the smooth surface - spitting an apple out that rolls at the scientist feet. They pick it up as they walk off, wiping away tears.

-

A picture frame shatters.

"Why would you choose him and not me. Why!?"

The picture holds a smiling, bucktooth child in the arms of their butler as they show off their award for the camera and all to see. The person who taught them everything, the only one there when they had no one. Emery throws an empty bottle at the image, sinking down at the foot of their bed - cradling their arms to their chest.

"why....."

The sound of wet suction weaves into their cries as the slime wrigglies itself beneath the crack in their bedroom door. It inches towards them, shaking violently before spitting up as locket on the floor. Emery goes to grab it, but as they do the smile shoots up their arm and spreads out, and puffs up over their shoulder like a makeshift pillow. Emery cards their fingers their hair, climbing to their feet and pocketing the trinket.

"I guess I do need some rest. Thank you, You. You seem to be the only one I can't trust."

More gurgles.

"I guess I should give you an actual name eventually." They sight - broken body collapsible on their bed and crawling under their blankets with the help of their aid. The slime hops up on their pillow as they raise their head - solidifying as they rest. "Goodnight, You."

That night - Emery had the worse night's rest they ever had in their twenty-seven years of living.

"You are my sunshine. My only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray~"

Is someone ... singing?

"You'll never know, dear. How much I love you-"

The voice sounds so familiar....no... There's more than one. It's hard to remember something so sweet - when all those voices ever did was beg you to stop.

"Please don't take - my sunshine away."

Emery shoots up like a lightning bolt. Their hands search the bed for their glasses which had fallen - finding a squishy, but very real feeling hand beneath their grasp. Emery locates their glasses as the body's see through eyelids peel back.

"Goodnight, You!"

Emery screams - rolling out of the bed in a tanglement of their blankets and obscenities. The interior in the bed sits up, puzzled; bubbles floating through their translucent body as their anxiety peaks.

"Emery.....this you?" The figure points, noting the odd number of fingers on its hand as it looks at theirs. "Mmm wrong...."

Emery's eyes widen as the slime's sixth finger merges into the fifth. "Y-you?...."

The slime chirps. "Emery!"

Emery looks strength in their knees. "What? How?..."

"Ahhh.... You - eat meal... gr...ow better at shape. Too much at one time - hard to understand. Able to single out things Emery say - Emery is... the only one I can trust."

Emery clutches their head. "Ngh..."

"Help?" The slime lunges foward, reverting to its natural state as it crashes into the floor and forming back into its humanoid shell as it catches them before they stumble. It was hard to notice with half of them hanging off the bed, but the slime was massive - size their size if they had to estimate. They bury their face into their hands. "This can't be happy.

The smlie's droppy smile falters. "Wrong? Wanted to make you happy. I..will go back if it makes you happy. Sad Emery...makes me sad too."

Emery looks up at the slime. They raise out their hand, stroking the slime's cold cheek. It hums with a full body shutter - leaning into their palm until their fingers poke through the membrane. Emery retracts their hand, sliding it into their now empty pocket.

"It's fine. I guess we really need to pick a name for you now."

"Mm I pick?"

"Do you have something in mind?"

"Y/n!"

"Where'd you pick up that one?"

The slime points to their head. "Memories. I... like it the most out of them."

"I see... Y/n, it's cute. Alright, Y/n - let's go get some breakfast."

The slime spits a small bag from its stomach contents onto its hand, giving the trail mix too them. That's much more alarming when it's coming out a real mouth and tongue.

"Breakfast!"

Emery takes it with two fingers, holding the dripping bag away from their face. "Thank you, Y/n......at least I have you by my side."

[cherrywhite]

TSV Fan Favorite Survey Results

Last week I made a small TSV survey for the heck of it and ended up getting way more results than I originally expected!! Wanted to share the results.

When I'm in a "Who's your favorite TSV main character" competition and my opponent is Carpenter 🤯 (Okay but.. is anyone surprised?)

Fun fact: for a while Hayward had only one or two votes and idk why that surprised me so much. Though I'm shocked he got more than Faulkner overall

Top 5 minor characters, as voted: Val > Shrue > Sibling Rane > Gage > Sid Wright

Also unsurprising! Though I regret that I didn't word the question as "Pick up to 5" instead of top 5. Val almost got 100% of the votes in this category... off by 4.. I respect you but also who are you 4 I just want to know

Top 5 side characters, as voted: Acantha > Nana Glass / Greve > Charity / Elgin > The Homesick Corpse > Chuck Harm (though Cross came very close to tying!!)

Acantha at the top is also unsurprising! Though.. looking at the top one.. looks like we all have a thing for old ladies, huh? Definitely my mistake in that I didn't add Em and Vaughn in there to begin with💦 Shoutout to the one person who voted Helen. Also, we love to see that Daggler got 0 votes.

Favorite God, as voted: Th Cairn Maiden > The Many Below > The Trawlerman > The Watcher in the Wings > The Saint Electric

The Beast that Stalks in the Long Grass and The Last Word each got one vote. Also, The Chitterling got a vote. Henge, the god Hayward mentions in s1, the one that takes things people wish to lose, got two votes! :D Idk why, but it's such an unexpected pull to me, it makes me happy to see it was remembered!

Top 5 s1 episodes, as voted: Chapter 4 > Chapter 7 & Chapter 15 > Chapter 1 > Chapter 13 > Chapter 3, 8, 11, & 12 (tied with 3 votes)

Fun fact: of season 1 episodes, only 4/15 episodes weren't picked as someone's favorite!!

Top 5 s2 episodes, as voted: Chapter 24 > Chapter 29 > Chapter 19 > Chapter 17 > Chapter 23

Also not surprised because chapter 24 is also my favorite (probably my most relistened to episode and it still makes me cry). Though, I will say, I was surprised chapter 20 didn't have more votes since that one also seems to be a favorite writing wise!

Fun fact: of all s2 episodes, only 1 episode wasn't picked as someone's favorite! (okay, idk why it's important to me to point out, I just think it's interesting!! Though I can admit I could probably phrase it better. I think the fave episodes are spread out pretty evenly for each season though, which is really neat in my opinion.)

Top 5 s3 episodes, as voted: Chapter 46 > Chapter 38 > Chapter 37 > Chapter 36 (we are not immune to a good tragic love story, I see) & Chapter 43 > Chapter 44

For a while, Chapter 38 had the most votes which I thought was.. idk how to better phrase it, but.. sweet. Because Carpenter's returning home episode was the fave of s2 and if Faulkner's returning home episode had also been the fave... something something we sure do love these terrible siblings, huh? But! Unsurprisingly the finale is the big fave of the season. How many of us have recovered from it??

Fun fact: Of season 3, only 3 episodes weren't chosen!

Boooo I shouldn't have given y'all the option to abstain from picking!! "Don't make me choose," you cowards!! /lh

mandatory link to this recommendation

Favorite episode title:

Hi. So, um. I'm an idiot. And didn't realize that Google Form automatically turns short answers into a bar graph. So unfortunately, the results for this one is..well

And half of these are the exact same title with slightly different phrasing 🙃

BUT I'm nothing if not determined so I went through and organized everything though I didn't make a pie chart. Needless to say. I think we all know the favorite episode title (care to make a guess?)

Favorite episode title: But We'll Never Be Rid of Each Other (25%)

Its Wrath Shall Scald the Sun came second with only 9% of the vote. We sure do love our doomed siblings, huh?

[dominimoonbeam]

To The Edge - 28

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: scifi romance, hijinks in space, rogues learning to trust, violence, blood, guns, death, explicit language, so much kidnapping, explicit sex

Works organized and easily found over on the patreon. <3

TO THE EDGE - CHAPTER 28.

Stardust woke up in his bed, under the glow of space, watching stars slide by the large window. The ship had a low hum of systems, of movement, of air, and the body pressed against theirs spread warmth into their body. His breath rolled against the back of their neck, his arm flexing around their middle as he too woke.

This was perfect, they thought. This moment. They wished they could pause everything else and stretch this out forever.

He took a deep breath and let it out, giving them another squeeze before stretching out and rolling onto his back beside them.

Stardust reached up with one arm to tap fingers against the window. “So, I can’t help but notice the differences in our accommodations on this ship…” they remarked. “I’ve got a cot and no window while you…”

He snorted. “Of course, my room has a window and a real bed.”

They turned their head away from the view to shoot him a raised eyebrow.

Cosmic grinned. “Your room is a cargo hold when I’m not transporting…well, human cargo.” He laughed. “I guess it’s still a cargo hold. That’s why all the meal bars and protein shakes are in there. Did you think I put them there just for you? That room belongs to them! You’re the guest.”

Stardust laughed despite their efforts to hold it back. “You’re such an asshole…”

He shrugged, sitting up. “Hm…” He tapped their naked hip. “Roll over again? I want to get another look at that map.”

They didn’t move just yet. “How do I know you’re not up to something?”

He laughed again, the sound deep in his morning voice. “Why would I be tricking you? You’re already in my bed. I’ve already seen everything…”

Stardust pretended to think it over before shrugging and rolling onto their stomach, folding their arms under their cheek and watching him over their shoulder.

Cosmic rolled onto his knees and leaned over them. His warm hand slid up their back, so careful against those hidden scars. He nodded at whatever he saw there in the ink. “Hm… Yeah, the map has moved a little more. It’s getting closer to the destination. I wonder what it’ll look like when we get there. It’s moving ink, so why not give us little fireworks or something when we reach the treasure?”

They frowned back at him. “It’s not—”

“Knock it off, you know it’s treasure.” He leaned forward and kissed their shoulder. “Even if there isn’t an X and we don’t have to dig it up, it doesn’t make it not treasure. I don’t know why you refuse to call it what it is. Loot. Bounty. Booty.” He grinned against their skin, his face so close to theirs.

“Any chance it’ll go away when we get there?”

He stopped kissing their shoulder, lashes lifting to meet their gaze. “You mean, will it disappear after we find it?” They knew the answer by the way he worked the question for time. “I don’t think so, Stardust… I’ve never known any moving ink to vanish on its own. If it bothers you, we could try to find someone to get rid of it. Once the treasure is already found, you won’t have to worry about someone trying to use it to get there.”

They sighed. “A map is a map. Would you believe someone if they said there was nothing there anymore?”

Cosmic sat upright, frowning. “…No, you’re right. They wouldn’t necessarily believe us that we’d already found it.”

Stardust sighed and closed their eyes, once again in life trying to make peace with the piece on their skin.

“It’s not a bad tattoo,” he said, as though he knew. “It’s beautiful work.”

“Is it?” they asked, eyes still shut and body relaxing. Was it really beautiful? They’d only ever seen it as something unwanted—something dangerous.

“Stardust…” he called softly, his voice low and shaped by a smile. “Are you falling asleep?”

They hummed in reply before realizing they might need to use words. “Can I stay?” they mumbled.

“Yeah. You can sleep here if you want. I mean…tonight. Not like, every night. Don’t try to steal my room,” he said, settling back down at their side. His fingers touched the back of their head, combing through their hair in slow motions.

The ship hummed, his heart beat, and they both just breathed.

“You know this doesn’t change anything, right?” Cosmic whispered, no more smile cutting his words. He was using that serious voice of his—not the fun angry one, but the sad one.

“You’re still telling yourself that?” Stardust smiled against their arm, his hand still stroking their hair and his legs tangled with theirs. “So, we’re just partners then?”

“No. And we were not partners before we slept together. We’re not partners.”

They wondered if he believed it more or less every time he had to say it to himself.

“We’re just… working together for the time being.”

“You like me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

“Nope.” There was the smile again, they could hear it pressed tightly into the corner of his mouth. “I meant what I said.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You say a bunch of dumb things. You don’t mean it.”

“I—” he started and then groaned, his hand going still in their hair. “Stop it! How do you turn everything into a petty argument?”

They cracked a lid to sneak a peek at him when they said, “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you—” he cut himself off and shot them a glare. “You’re evil.”

Stardust shrugged, watching his gaze drift over them.

His mouth twitched. “And how do you still have paint in your hair? I thought we got it all out…”

“We got distracted a few times,” they reminded. “How did you end up being a mercenary?”

His gaze found theirs in a flash of surprise. “Hm? Why do you want to know that?”

“I’m sleepy. Humor me?”

He beamed, using one arm to prop up his head. “Are you trying to say that my life story is sure to be so boring that it’ll knock you out?”

They shrugged. “Were your parents mercenaries?”

His smile softened, not completely vanishing but losing the vivid details. “No. They weren’t. The only time my parents were ever on a spaceship was when they were being shipped out to the edge to colonize a new mining settlement. They used to say that I was born looking up…” he said softly, his gaze flicking past them to the window for a second before coming back. “I think they just said that because they’d realized I’d have to go eventually. So, they told me I’d always wanted to be an adventurer and eventually I believed it.”

Stardust wasn’t falling asleep anymore. They watched him, barely breathing, to get those details. A mining planet. They struggled to imagine Cosmic as a boy in a colony.

“The mines dried up sooner than the corporations expected. They stopped prioritizing the settlement. We’re far out, you know? It was close to the edge and that costs to maintain. When they finally decided it wasn’t worth it, they just stopped coming—stopped paying the mercenaries to guard the colony.” His teeth dragged over his lip before he shrugged, like it had all been inevitable—a story told a hundred times. “Pirates and worse started to set up shop real quick after that. It’s still there, the last planetary settlement before the deep.”

“So, your family had to leave?”

“Hm?” he seemed surprised by the idea, his thoughts having to return to the question. “Oh, no, it was just me by then. I got on the first ship that would take me. Scariest ride of my life. That ship was a wreck, barely holding together, and we were packed standing inside it for hours. I can still remember the way it creaked and shook, like it was going to come apart and we’d all just be flushed out into space.” He smiled, his words whispered like he was telling them a bedtime story.

“We made it to the nearest station. The captain we’d all paid, tried to double-cross us by selling us to a skin ship. I was lucky that some of the others were armed and would rather go down shooting then get on that other vessel. It turned into a firefight right there in the station and we scattered. I stowed away on a big cargo ship and got out of there.”

They wanted to ask about his family—about how he was the only one to get off the planet—but they pressed those questions aside. Another time, maybe. “The cargo ship didn’t catch on that you were there?”

The stars outside the window flickered in his eyes. “Oh, I definitely got caught, but by then we were away from the station and those cargo ships can’t waste time turning back. I guess they could have jettisoned my ass but the captain felt bad for me. I was barely more than a kid. He said he was short-handed so I could work for my food and board.”

They nodded, wondering how old he had been but asking, “Where were you going?”

“I was trying to get to the prime.” He huffed a small laugh. “I’m probably lucky I never made it. What would I have done there? They probably would have put my ass back on a ship running cargo out here.”

He was right, only they would have managed to tack on a ton of debt while they set him up and sent him out again. They smiled up at him. “Well, lucky for me you didn’t become a cargo runner.”

“…Yeah.” He smiled. “You’re right. If I’d gotten myself one of those legit long-haul jobs, who would have been out here to save you from those pirates?”

“I mean, I would have managed eventually. I might have even thrown in with a crew of mercs. You know, I was really close to talking me way out of that trunk you found me in…”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“They had more guns… and a faster ship…”

He laughed, ruffling their hair. “Shut up and fall asleep already.”

[toxic3mmy]

prompt: alex is your new and annoying step brother

guys i redid itttt

ps it’s a little sad cozzzz im a little sad

(vvvvvvv sad actually)

anyway ENJOY MEOWWW

Part Three

it was a few hours later when the two of you were in your rooms. both of you thinking about confronting the other.

the house was eerily quiet. you could hear your own soft breathing

as you laid restlessly in the dark, you could hear a buzz from so much silence and it was freaking you out

you decided to get up and see if by any chance that alex was awake. you walked slowly to the door of his bedroom trying to collect your thoughts. you held up your hand to begin to knock when the door opened in front of you.

“um… hey, i was just wondering if you were still awake”

he said nothing and yet in the pitch black of the house, you still saw his almost angry face. he then grabbed your arm and pulled you into his room, closing the door behind the two of you.

as he practically slammed you against his closed door, you took a second to look around his room. he had a dim lamp lighting up the room slightly from his bedside table. he had dark furniture. the whole room was quite tidy and organized to your surprise. he had a few band posters up along with a collection of nerdy trinkets.

“y/n.. you… you shouldn’t have been doing that earlier! you-you should have locked the god damn door and-and.. fuck”

you jumped at his sudden raise of voice and he pinned your arms above your head against his door roughly

“listen to me very clearly when i tell you this because i’m only going to say it once and that’s it, you got it?” he growled in your face

you nodded and winced as alex’s grip on your arms tightened purposely

“good. first, this is my house so what i say goes. secondly, you don’t ask your mom for permission or even my dad. you ask me because until i can figure out how to get rid of you, you’re my responsibility. never snoop. not in my room or anywhere else in the house. and lastly, you lock every door you’re behind because you can’t—you’re just—ugh! you know what i’m saying.. if you decide not to abide by my rules, you’re gonna wish you never met me. do you understand me, little girl?”

again, you nodded silently as he finally calmed down a bit but still stayed close to your face

“nothing smart to say, huh?” he continued,

“you know, you’re kinda pretty when your big mouth doesn’t get in the way…” he smirked, leaning so close that your lips almost touched

your held your breath in anticipation before whispering,

“and you’re kinda sweet when your personality isn’t showing”

you closed your eyes and were almost pursing your lips for him

your eyes immediately opened in shock as you heard alex chuckling softly. he let go of you and stood back from you

“you didn’t think i’d really kiss you, did you? you’re such an idiot, sweetheart”

you didn’t waste any time at all as you left his bedroom with tears silently streaming down your face.

—

the two of you had been avoiding each other like the god damn plague. it’s been an entire week since the um… incident.

you were frustrated with the way alex could completely ignore you. you hated the way you would constantly catch him looking at you and pretend like he wasn’t.

you were completely embarrassed from the rejection and it was killing you that alex was acting all pissy towards you.

at least now you had something to distract you from him.

apparently, a close friend of your soon to be stepdad had gifted them a honeymoon trip but the catch was that it had to be at the end of the month. why was this even a thing? who knows. still, your parents decided to marry by the end of the week and leave for their honeymoon to paris right afterwards. it was the middle of the month, after all.

and so, the whole time you were trying to get alex alone so that you could confront him about that night, your mom was making you try on dresses and help her find the perfect dress and the perfect flowers, etc etc.

it was a real handful but you wanted your mom to be happy. the good thing was that the wedding reception would take place at your new house. so that meant that you didn’t need to worry about running around and picking things up, everything would be sent to your house.

throughout the whole week you’re probably wondering where alex was. well, he was keeping himself busy, too. he was doing some planning but mostly, he just kinda stayed away from the house.

or maybe he was staying away from you.

you were starting to think you did something wrong.

did he find you disgusting for doing what you were doing in the bath?

was the image of you naked so mortifying to him that he couldn’t even look you in the eye anymore?

was he planning on telling everyone about this at the wedding?

no, he wouldn’t dare ruin something this important… or would he? he was quite the asshole so it could be a possibility.

“y/n! did you even hear a word i said?”

“oh.. um, sorry. i kinda zoned out. what did you say?”

“i said, help me zip this dress dammit! if i had more arms i would” your mom sighed and pinched her nose in frustration

“hey, mom? is everything okay?” you grabbed her hand in yours to help ground her

“im sorry mija, im just stressed but this dress is the one. it took us long enough, huh?” she smiled softly

“yeah, but you look amazing mom”

“thank you y/n, for everything. now let’s get back home. your father and i need to host our practice dinner and i need you and alexis to pick up a few things for me while we’re out”

you groaned exaggeratedly “please don’t make me”

“y/n, you and your brother need to get along. come on, i’ll drop you off at home”

“he’s not my brother” you mumbled as the two of you left the dress boutique and headed home

~

your parents had already left for their dinner rehearsal

you hesitantly decided to look for alexis to mention the last minute errands you needed to get done. you took the time to actually get a good look at the house.

it really was huge and beautiful. it had way too many rooms and yet all you wanted to do was be in his room…

stop that. stop pacing around his bedroom door. stop wanting his attention.

you decided that you wanted to just avoid him and so you went downstairs to call a cab and get the errands done on your own but you paused as you walked into the dining room. all the last minute things were already there. he probably beat you to it.

so you shrugged and made your way to your room. you wanted to just clear your head so you got the idea of going swimming. you hadn’t even gotten the chance to use the really nice pool yet and so now was a good time.

you changed into a simple bikini and some flip flops. you went outside and closed the door behind you. you put down your towel and slid off your sandals.

you first just sat at the edge of the pool with your feet in the water and you thought about everything.

you were trying so hard to be happy or at least pretend for your mom but it was hard. alex made it hard.

you were so alone and it wasn’t easy at all. you couldn’t really remember a time in your life when you didn’t feel like this. but you had food in your belly and clothes on your back so you never complained. nobody knew how you felt.

you wanted a friend. that was all. but you were too shy, too quiet, and too scared.

so you were alone. sitting by the pool alone and you looked up at the sky after feeling droplets on your face. the sky was clear.

you touched your face and didn’t even realize that you were crying. tears were streaming down your face and yet, you were still alone.

you wiped your face and submerged yourself fully into the pool. you laid face up and floating peacefully in the water.

your mind couldn’t help but wander to the same dark thoughts you had been fighting for years.

what would it feel like to disappear?

“y/n… mind if i join you?”

you stood up in the water and quickly wiped away your running mascara from the crying. you looked over to see alex standing nearby with a soft smile on his face and you didn’t know if you could say no to him.

so you nodded and he joined you.

the two of you stood there in silence until alex spoke softly

“im sorry y/n. i didn’t mean to hurt you—“

before he could even finish apologizing, you were already sobbing in his chest and holding him tightly to you. you had held too much in and you were just drowning in your own feelings at this point.

“would you care if i disappeared? i mean… would anyone?” you said in a small voice

“don’t say that y/n. don’t ever say that”

and he held you until you had no more tears left to shed

[astral-disastral-catastral]

Headcanon Time!!!!

✧ He has multiple extra limbs and organs excluding eyes [.e.g. 3 arms and 3 hands, 3 hearts, 2 brains 1 extra layer of dough which the average cookie does not have that he doesn't always display] which are all functional! He likes to scare others with it.

✧ His bones don't have nearly as much sugar as most cookies [what makes cookie bones hard and sturdy] so he's concerningly flexible hence all the 90° head cocking and odd bodily positions aswell as being hypermobile [but it doesn't often cause him pain]. Funfact: he could turn his head 360° if he wanted to.

✧ When he falls asleep, the eyes on his head are closed like his actual eyes so they look like they're not there.

✧ Has a habit of biting other cookies near him that he finds hard to control/stop doing.

✧ Has purposefully eaten more than 1 cookie and very much derived joy from doing so [he thought they tasted good. Or atleast some of them did… he just killed the ones he didn't like or used them for something else].

✧ If you were to chop off any of his limbs, .e.g. his arms or legs or hands, they would regenerate quickly or he would just re-attatch them and say something like “ow” very nonchalantly.

✧ Regularly shapeshifts into things that aren't him .e.g. animals and other cookies like the ancients [mainly PV] for the fun of it, if he's bored, or to taunt and trick others.

✧ The weird looking sonic’s quills on his head is a hat!! His actual hair is light blue and white, flows majestically, is long enough to touch the ground if he decides to stop floating around all the time for once, and is very liquidy but doesn't feel wet at all [it's more soft and fluffy and smooth to the touch if anything…]. He doesn't like his hair that way and is insecure about it and it makes him angrier than he wishes to be so he always keeps his hat on. Or is it a wig or something??

✧ Is extremely touchy with PV and absolutely does not give a care in the world about boundaries. Refuses to leave him alone 80% of the time [he legit always less than 30cm away from him].

✧ The sorest loser in the world he WILL throw a fit if he cannot win something and will go out of his way to win no matter what, whether it's cheating, killing, you name it!

✧ For any cookie that isn't a beast or unconventionally massive, he's practically a giant but out of all the beasts, he's the shortest one.

✧ Sprawls out the most uncalled unwanted unnecessary unasked unfiltered comments whenever and wherever blatantly [sometimes he does it intentionally and sometimes he doesn't even get it's the wrong time or wrong at all].

✧ Really likes puppets [like a lot oh my lord]

↑ Has possessed/controlled PV various times on various occasions and has no regrets doing so.

✧ Mythomania/Pseudologia Fantastica.

✧ Enjoys drawing, scribbling, doodling and the taste/smell of crayons [regularly uses them].

✧ Acts like a 5 year old having a sugar rush 90% of the time and complains non-stop if he becomes bored and will do too much to find something to entertain himself to no longer be bored, whatever that may be…

✧ Funfact: i love him to an unhealthy extent he's my son i love him oh my god my gallery of him is almost at 2000+ images.

✧ Has weird patterns all over his body [it's a part of his dough and he cannot get rid of it anymore].

✧ His hair is completely sentient for some strange reason [he could move individual strands if he wanted to like they're extra arms and hands].

✧ Can probably play the Accordion perfectly [referencing circus of shadows…]

[wholegrainvore]

heres a silly valentin drabble

By the time the dusty old house was cleared, Valentin had crammed eight gnomes, six fairies, and a fluffy down his gullet. The fluffy was a pleasant dessert to his hunt; the small creatures were always so tasty and docile, and this one barely struggled at all as he gulped it down greedily. 

“Ah, mercy,” he groaned, rolling his knuckles against his bulging gut. “Gotta — mmm… show my work to the nice lady. You all calm down in there.”

He gave his middle a pat and made his way to the front door, stepping out into the afternoon sun.

“Oh! Young man, you’ve finished with those pests?”

Valentin belched into his fist, shooting the witch a charming smile. “All taken care of, ma’am. Not one left.” His stomach gave a gentle groan, the creatures inside thrashing about to try and escape, and he hiccuped.

“Wonderful,” she praised, reaching into her apron and pulling out a tiny pouch of gold coins.

He received them gratefully, rubbing his gurgling stomach with his free hand as it worked hard to begin churning up its cargo. It was nice to be able to get a meal and pay in one fell swoop. 

*

“Mister! If you let me out, I’ll grant you a wish! Anything your heart desires!”

“Aww, precious,” Valentin chuckled, grinding his hand into the fatty flesh of his gut. Most of his hunt had been churned away, except for this one stubborn fairy that didn’t seem to want to digest.

“I’m —“ He started, before cutting himself off with a meaty belch. “Ah,” he purred, licking his lips. “Excuse me, love — I’m flattered, really, but all I wish is that you would start digesting nicely. I need to make room for tonight’s job, you see; I’m a busy man. Now, shhh…” He pushed insistently at his stomach, trying to stimulate the organ to work harder.

The fairy pouted and gave the wall of his belly a firm kick. “You must want something! To be a mighty sorcerer, or a king… Come on, mister! Let me go!”

Valentin leaned back in his chair, the wooden frame giving a slight creak of protest from his weight, and stroked his hand over the slope of his stomach soothingly.  “Come now, my dear. I get rid of little pests like you for a nominal fee. My clients trust me to thin out your populations; if I were to let you little things go afterwards, I wouldn’t really be doing my job, would I?”

The fairy harrumphed and sulked in the depths of his gut, and Valentin patted his belly fondly. “Don’t be so disappointed, little one… All of your friends have already succumbed to my gut; isn’t it nice and warm in there? Don’t you want to join them? Just — urp — get comfortable and quit squirming. Accept that you're only food to me.”

The fairy grumbled but eventually stopped struggling, and Valentin gave a satisfied sigh. “That’s a good girl," he said through a yawn, stretching grandly in his chair. His hand came down to rest over his stomach, and he marvelled for a moment about how large he'd become. When he’d first gotten into the extermination business, he'd been ... not exactly trim, but at least he had a bit of definition to his frame. Now, he'd become a mountain of a man. He'd gained enough fat and muscle to become quite the imposing figure; huge, strong arms and shoulders, a gut that could hold two or three grown men, a soft and impressive chest - and he was still growing.

 Valentin let out another yawn, his eyelids growing heavy. A nap before his next job sounded very nice; a young paladin had sought him out to clear out a sacred forest of imps and wood-sprites. He dreaded the task when he already felt so nicely sated and sleepy, but he wasn’t too averse to the idea of being paid to stuff himself silly.